#which leads to some interesting dreams that i remember. i used to live and work on a boat for some time

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

I'm a mix of Damian and Tim. There has been times when I thought a good dream was an actual event that happened. Multiple times.

On the plus side I get free happy memories

(staying up>nightmares>working memory)

The batfam ranked on their ability to recall dreams - Least to Most

Damian - Doesn’t dream besides nightmares

Jason - also doesn’t really dream, mostly just replay of memories so technically higher then Damian

Dick - Mostly remembers the feeling of a dream rather then the dream itself whether good or bad

Cass - remembers the people in her dreams, but not what was happing

Steph - either can’t remember at all, or remembers nearly all of it

Duke - opposite of Cass, can remember most things except for faces

Bruce - Easy to recall nightmares, but similar to Dick can remember the feeling of good dreams

Tim - Dreams so vivid and realistic he just fully believes they’re actually memories. This has served as an issue

[marstons-angel]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[barrenclan]

Chonny Jash's cover of The Moss seems very patfw-core to me. I think someone's brought it up before but I'd like to specifically point out some of the new/changed lyrics that I think fit

But everything you see isn't everything that is

Every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss

The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give

Well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive

^ Cats like Pinepaw and Rainhaze's curiosity about what's beyond Barrenclan territory, how cats like Cootstorm try to discourage that type of thinking and how their actions unintentionally lead them to their fates. Also very cyclecore

And every thing will live, just as every thing will die

Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny

Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye

Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide

^ In my head I'm picturing an amv/pmv and for this part I'm very much imagining a sort of slideshow section about contrasts and various events: Barrenclan/Defiance, Rainhaze and Ranger/Rainhaze and Asphodelpaw, Pinepaw and Saturn/Pinepaw and Wild Rose, Slugpelt and Cashew/Slugpelt and Dustfeather. Idk if that makes sense

Well, legend has it that we're all just doomed

And we've ruined our society

Well, legend has it that we dug our tomb

Which we'll lie in for all eternity

^ Barrenclan's whole staying as punishment for their cowardice ideology

Well legend has it that, the world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens

Well legend has it that, our corpses lie a foundation of insincerity

^ what Barrenclan's territory used to be - blue and green - and what it is now - on a foundation of corpses

*Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz—

I've seen a lot of people in the server talking about Chonny Jash, he seems pretty fun. But if I'm honest, I'm more of a Johnny Cash fan. :P

Ooh, yes! You've targeted me with a TMBG suggestion, I actually went ahead and added "Don't Let's Start" to the playlist but I love this song too.

Even when you're out of work you still have a job to do Even when you don't know what it is Your job knows what it is What it is is it's coming to get you

And when you wake up you can feel your hair grow Crawl out of your cave and you can watch your shadow Creep across the ground until the day is done All the while the planet circles 'round the sun

Haha, that is funny irony. But I agree with you! Isn't it interesting how despite being named that way, "Defiance" doesn't allow any of its members to defy Deepdark?

Compliance We just need your compliance You will feel no pain anymore No more defiance

Fall into line, you will do as you're told No choice fatigue, your blood is running cold We lose control, the world will fall apart Love of your life will mend your broken heart

Will Wood is ever-popular, of course, though I never got really into him. I can see this is as a Pinepaw song!

All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming They say that beauty's just skin deep So naturally, please show me your

Bones, bones, bones, let me see your bones Well, I don't wanna know if the feeling follows home Bones, bones, bones, hell, we're all alone If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

They say that beauty's just skin deep So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her

Oh... Rainhaze and Slugpelt song.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'? Are you dead or are you sleepin'? God, I sure hope you are dead

Well, you disappeared so often like you dissolved into coffee Are you here right now, or are there probably fossils under your meat?

Defiance song! Spefically, I could see it as from Ranger/broader Defiance's perspective as he navigates the group.

We're at a revolution And we're baying for your blood We're laying down the law And your name's mud

Cause you say you fight for us Cross your heart and hope to die You're the bully in the playground and we'll hang you out to dry

Oh yeah, I remember this song from the IncuriousCat PMV. I like it! "Nowhere King" is also a Deepdark song, so that creepy children's song-esque music does fit with the series. If anyone wanted to edit together a trailer it'd be cool!

Perfect. No notes.

Actually, someone's already made a PMV to the comic with the song! You can check it out here.

I don't think it's been suggested yet! It's a Pinepaw song, of course.

I'll cut my hair (Ooh) to make you stare (Ooh) I'll hide my chest And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

I can't really think right now and this place Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

[animeomegas]

HA I must disagree with everyone saying naruto and sasuke are the worst patients. Sasuke grumbles and growls sure, and Naruto is whiny about feeling bad, but I think Shikamaru would be the worst.

Being sick is not the same as resting. The recurrent aches and pains either waking him up or preventing him from falling asleep make him cranky. Fever dreams, even when you can't remember them, make sleep unrestful, he hates waking up overheated or when his feet and hands are chilly or worse yet having all three happen at once.

He's not a picky eater to begin with, but growing up with Chouji and his own mother's cooking, he knows what good food is and suddenly everything tastes wrong? Blasphemous, horrific, having to eat plain food that tastes like nothing? It takes a lot of coaxing and hand feeding to get him to eat something and there's a 50/50 chance he's glaring at you the whole time.

On top of that, it's one thing to scive off work, but suddenly falling ill and ruining his whole productivity plan (with the purpose of bringing the bare minimum at home work smarter not harder lol) stresses him out and Nara HATE being stressed. He dreads having to catch up on things (read working 9 hour days for a week, same). If he can feel himself getting sick, he actually tries to get as much as he can done before he actually has to stay home, which means a really cranky lead up and a horrible first day or two of illness.

Of course, this is not to say that Sasuke in particular is a peach. No, he's also glaring and cranky, but it's not as bad somehow. He will grudgingly allow himself to be taken care of and embrace the excuse for being babied with only nominal protest. He doesn't mind asking for what he wants (with some coaxing) while he's sick which takes some stress off of caring for him. He's also more used to rough living and doing what has to be done to get well again, so somehow I just don't think he'd be as offended as Shikamaru is.

They both hate being sick, but I think Shikamaru is taking it more personally.

Ooooh, an alternate opinion! Shikamaru... interesting.

You are so right that he's cranky though. Shikamaru is always in a FOUL mood when he's sick. He probably goes into work, scowling at everyone. He'd be stomping around if it didn't hurt his head.

And yes, he would for sure just stop eating, that's such a him thing to do. (Although part of me thinks it would be so cute to spoon feed a scowling Shikamaru haha.)

And the workload thing... that's kind of sad, but I think you're right. Shikamaru is so important and does so much work, so he has to catch up once he's better, and having that hanging over him just makes him feel worse. This wouldn't happen to Sasuke because he doesn't give a fuck lol.

While I think Sasuke would be a massive bitch when sick, this was certainly well argued. Shikamaru is certainly a contender for the competition haha.

Thanks for the ask ;) @ikemenomegas

[bleue-flora]

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.

To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.

Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.

For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.

But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.

Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.

This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.

Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.

Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”

Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Schlatt’s Limbo in the Las Nevadas stream?…

[pawsometoons]

Dream BBQ Countdown!

Day 15: PiX and KiDD (Unusual ShENAnigans)

(Reference: I Depend On You)

PiX and KiDD are both inspired by two different versions of the CD ROM art studio game known as KidPix! PiX was based off of an older version of the program, that being Kid Pix Studio. Meanwhile, KiDD was based off of a later version, that being Kid Pix Deluxe 3D. The two are siblings if it wasn't obvious already.

PiX was one of Michael/YinYang's early middle school friends. Her real name being Penny. She was usually known for being very quiet and independent most of the time, hyperfocused on her art. Michael usually showed interest in that art and is what inspired him to get into it too! Even if he wasn't as good at it.

Penny spoke about having an older brother that Michael had rarely ever gotten to see. He was usually all over the place. Tagging his art in dark corners of their town. He was a street artist to put it lightly. Others called him a vandal, but Penny was always inspired by how he expressed his art. That older brother being KiDD, Though his real world name was Ken.

Although Penny was very quiet, she was also far too trusting. One day while staying behind in her art class during lunch time to get some extra work done on her art projects, another girl had entered the classroom and offered to show her a better drawing spot. Penny was fine where she was already, but she couldn't help but be curious. So she followed the other girl into the hallways of the school. Only problem was, the two were walking into a part of the school that was unused at the time and was completely desolate. Penny was getting worried, but the other girl assured her they were getting close... That was until the girl turned on Penny, tackled her to the ground and snatched the pencil that was in her hand to begin stabbing her in the side of the neck repeatedly with it. Killing her nearly instantly. The girl then sprinted off, showing fake tears as she tells the teachers that there's been a murder within the school. Unfortunately, she did a poor job at covering her tracks. There was security camera footage of the girl leading Penny down the empty parts of the hallways, and she had left the pencil she used to kill Penny with inside of her neck which still had her DNA... The girl was soon detained, being taken away with her yelling profanities at everyone. Later on, a memorial plaque was made in memory of Penny. But to Michael, it was only a permanent reminder that people never do anything until someone loses a life...

Penny now lives as PiX in her own little meadow that she can use her creative abilities to alter in any way she'd like. As for Ken, now being KiDD, he's been stuck within the farther reaches of this imaginary world, where more incomplete memories go. It's unknown if Ken/KiDD is still alive in the real world. Yet, in Michael's mind, he couldn't let PiX be all alone without someone she trusted. That being her brother. So he tried to make what he could remember of PiX's brother, and manifest him in his mind just so PiX would be safe.

[violetstormms]

FNAF Sun/Moon x Reader MerMay Fics

 MerMay DCA x yn fic list

With Mermay coming to a close I decide to make a list of all the fun fish filled fics I have found so far. Remember to look at the tags and read at your own discretion.

Call of the Abyss by Buligete

archiveofourown.org/works/41191230/chapters/103261704

It was probably all very silly, considering the precarious situation I found myself in, but it really was all I could think about.

Could you really blame me? I never expected to find myself in this kind of a mess. I was not some big shot, thrill seeking space explorer. I was no seasoned freight worker. No avid alien world survivalist. Not even a simple cruise liner flight attendant.

I was a gardener. My feet belonged firmly planted in the soil of a garden world. I had spent my entire life up to now solidly anchored on Earth, and never dreaming of leaving the safety of gravity and atmosphere, despite the increasingly uncomfortable quality of life on the crowded homeworld. Sure, I dreamed of greener pastures. Of fresh air and fertile land. But frontier life and adventures in the big expanse of space? Not quite.

---

A FNAF x Subnautica crossover, about the challenges of survival, surprise friendships with quirky software and alien merfolk, man made horrors beyond our comprehension and unexpected mysteries to be uncovered within the depths.

Below The Surface by Justaduck6432

archiveofourown.org/works/46186750/chapters/116275786#workskin

You aren't what people would call friendly. No. You're not even polite. Much like the salty old sailor who raised you, you're short-tempered and not too social. And that's how you like it.

One day, a dirty-rotten fish steals something important to you. You know better than to tangle with a creature so large and dangerous. But you have little to lose and, by the gods, you're not about to let that smug fish keep what's yours.

Dive into this chaotic tale of merciless mers and our hot-headed protag who has to wrangle them!

Growing Pains by Celticwolfie

archiveofourown.org/works/46891666/chapters/118117984

It was going to be a normal fishing trip. Just a normal hike to the secluded river beach and maybe relax while listening to the forest waking up around you. However, that isn't how things go for you and now you managed to gain the attention of a legendary creature. Now everything seems to be turned on its head. Hopefully, you can adapt to it quickly enough and help these living legends out as their world is starting to shrink around them.

Free Space by omenofthevoid

archiveofourown.org/works/46904299/chapters/118150342

As a Leviathan, you aren't meant for the shallow water which inhibits your growth and keeps you small. You finally move to the Dead Zone, where you hope to be able to grow.

Galaxies, Lost in Ice by StarvingMe

archiveofourown.org/works/45778489/chapters/115203013

(Subnautica/Subnautica: Below Zero AU)

Sun went hunting, and he's been gone for a few days, and so it's up to Moon to drag Sun's Human Scientist Best Friend out into the ocean to find him.

(Leads into romance with aliens, no spice, that'll be a separate work that won't be necessary to enjoy this)

Abyssal Lights by PhoenixDaNeko

archiveofourown.org/works/46600771/chapters/117353191

You used to be powerful. Feared. Vicious. A man-killer. You were one of the most fearsome myths in the sea.

Then, despite everything, you were caught. Stolen from the depths of your home. Your older siblings had always cautioned against going too close to the surface. You wished you'd listened. Captured, placed into barely big enough tanks, traded between rich bastards and unethical scientists. Losing weight, power, sanity, you're beginning to give up, when a mysterious 4 armed... Person (?) comes by.

Who is this metal man, and why is he so interested in you?

My Lungs are Full of You by Xmimi89eR

archiveofourown.org/works/47111743/chapters/118694248

You didn't like the ocean.

The water felt like it would burn (and it does). Your lungs would give out sooner than others and you didn't even know how to swim!

You never asked for this trip, never asked to be here. Yet, here you are, stuck all alone and waiting for rescue that probably would never come.

Or, well, not really alone. The burning gaze of something in the water wouldn't leave you alone.

There Are Many Benefits (To Rethinking This Career Path)  by moonliched

archiveofourown.org/works/47449438/chapters/119573569#workskin

Life is cushy, working on a subterranean research facility on an underexplored ocean planet. As the resident handyman, most of your work takes place underwater - lucky for you, cave diving is your passion. With the building between bi-annual research teams, and the next lot yet to arrive, you find yourself with an excess of free time. All you have to do is fulfil your weekly duties, prepare the facility for the next team of researchers, and relax. Oh, and track down the net that went missing some time ago.

And then you find it.

In a submerged cave.

Trapping a mermaid.

You really wish this wasn't your responsibility.

(Moon thinks he should have listened to Sun and stuck to hunting in warmer waters. Why does this bizarre two-tailed mermaid keep coming at him with sharp instruments?)

Song of the Sea by TheDreamerFae

archiveofourown.org/works/38958630/chapters/97435890

You always loved the tales of Mermaids, of Selkies and of Sirens, of people who lived in the ocean as a child. You remember vividly seeing merfolk, but chalked it up your imagination. But then a boating accident with your grandpa had left you scarred, and you no longer wanted any association with the sea. But life has other plans

INSPIRED BY BAMSARA’S FIC god I love Celestial Omens.

Unusual  by  BlueMoon_13_31

archiveofourown.org/works/47008036/chapters/118422505

Your love for the ocean has sent you all around the world. However, the beaches of your coastal home have always been your favorite. Returning to the cloudy skies along the Pacific, the last thing you expected was to run into two creatures far from their natural habitat.

The Sea Has Always Known Your Name by CleverButDevastating

archiveofourown.org/works/47410663/chapters/119469997

Everyone is so caught up in your expulsion from the ship that they don’t see the pair of dark, sinuous shapes that slip up through the water only half a dozen yards away. No one notices the flashes of vivid yellow and luminous blue, or the intelligent eyes that take in the human spectacle with inhuman curiosity.

No one except you.

Clownfishing by Sujithe2DWaifu

archiveofourown.org/works/47314285/chapters/119220796

A night fishing trip lends itself to a chance encounter with a siren. After unknowingly showing it some kindness, your life is derailed in an extremely bizarre way.

Special thank you to Bug, who puts up with me, and Tobi(@Glambots on Tumblr)-This was originally a short story written in their ask box. While the first chapter will be short, they will get longer, just so you know what you're getting into. ;) Please also remember that I’m still learning and this is my first time posting on Ao3 specifically. I apologize in advance for any formatting issues.

Also warnings for this chapter and future chapters of thalassophobia, megalohydrothalassophobia, ososphobia, injury, body horror, animal death, offscreen minor character death, and something at bare minimum reminiscent of drugging. While these may be removed during the editing process as it currently stands these will apply at some point.

Turquoise Love by Wcat03blu

archiveofourown.org/works/47208670/chapters/118947625#workskin

You finally visit the aquarium by your college and fall absolutely head-over-heels for some celestial mermaids. Then you chill with them a lot :)

Leviathan Storms by TheDreamerFae

archiveofourown.org/works/47008924/chapters/118518967#workskin

Moving back to your old home rims has brought with you a sense of nostalgia of being. Sure most of the time it was cold and rainy but it didn’t make the scene any less beautiful. But a song keeps making itself known to you, and you must find it.

But who would’ve guessed Mers existed?

Bubbly by Robin_Green

archiveofourown.org/works/47513692/chapters/119741380

A little waterlily mer guppy is trapped, home destroyed, and taken to a pet store to be sold. After spending some time living in a fish bowl, our little guppy is saved and moved to a tank that has been dubbed the daycare by the human tending to it. The daycare tank is set up to rehabilitate fish before they are released back into their natural habitats. There our guppy meets Sun and Moon, two fish that live full time in this tank taking care their healing guests.

Sun and Moon and our guppy fall in love and then shit goes down.

Pearl Eye by NaffEclipse

archiveofourown.org/works/47400922

Movement. A mer swims overhead, speaking to someone, blocking out the starlight. The interloper lays a hand on the rim of the entrance but doesn’t look down just yet, and doesn’t see you, red-handed.

Your gut clenches with the urge to flee, your strength already spent in the fight moments earlier, and you heed the warning.

A Sleuth Jesters MerMay Fic

The Sea Jesters are Real Science by MatosaurusRex and sixty_nine13

archiveofourown.org/works/38833821/chapters/97107810

You stare into the glass. At first you see nothing, just a greenish-blue landscape, peaceful and ordinary. There is nothing special about it... Or so you think. As the seconds pass, two figures become more and more visible, slowly growing from two distant dots to two large figures, easily two metres tall. The two creatures stare at you, and you raise your hand, slapping it against the cold glass that holds the creatures trapped. These two beings, which until now had been considered to be legends, raise their hands to clasp yours as well. The most wonderful living beings in the world stand before you, separated by thick glass, suffering every day at the hands of greedy people.

How long will they resist this?

 ((This fic was inspired by Tumblr shenanigans and merMAY! Thank you all for inspiring us to create this <3))

And the Sea Swallowed My Screams by Burnt_Chicken_Lookin_Ass

archiveofourown.org/works/39115788/chapters/97855353#workskin

"Thalassophobia is the persistent and intense fear of deep bodies of water such as the sea, oceans, pools, lakes. [...] Thalassophobia can include fear of being in deep bodies of water, fear of the vast emptiness of the sea, of sea waves, aquatic creatures, and fear of distance from land."

You are a freelance diver. You are hired to perform difficult dives for item retrieval, research, and/or maintenance checks in less than safe underwater environments. Rule of thumb is to never dive alone; you live by that religiously. Hardly will you ever do a job without your diving partner: Iris. You have a deep seated fear of the open ocean, so if you cant see the bottom of a given body of water, then you simply wont go in.

One day, you receive a job from Fazbear inc. to retrieve the body of an employee at the request of their family. They had drowned when a company ship they worked on had spontaneously combusted and subsequently sank. The company is willing to pay big hush money to keep both the family and your retrieval team from mentioning the wreckage for some reason.

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Looking for more stories? I have a list of DCA stories sorted by type here https://www.tumblr.com/violetstormms/710457016218435584/sunmoon-fnaf-fanfic-recommendation-list   (or my pinned comment if you don’t like clicking links)

Also if you have any recommendations please leave a comment, its always fun finding new fics. :)

[platinumrosetail]

Yandere Seth x fem reader.Warning: Seth was devastated after witnessing his wedding to a fem reader. They kill her in front of him. Later that day, Seth ends up being killed anyway. Horus regrets that he could not save his sister and uncle from Osiris. He himself buries their bodies. Some time later, the reincarnated fem reader meets Seth's reincarnation again at college and meets him again years after finishing college. Both without remembering their past lives, they do not know who the other was to them. Afterwards they continue meeting again and in the end they fall in love as in their past life. But the reader, who began to remember her past life, decides to walk away, because she knows that they ended up dying because of her. In addition to possibly repeating that ending if she continues with it, she leaves one night and breaks up with Seth via text. What the fem reader does not know is that Seth began to remember his past life, which leads him to search for her. So much so that when he finds her, he chases her throughout a shopping center. She tries to escape by taking a train, but Seth ends up catching up to her in the end. However, after a few days, Seth would see her die again.

Another scenario taken from Korean kdramas, like a stairway to heaven. Sorry if the protagonist becomes Horus' sister again and ends up dying and abandoning Seth, I have a lot of trauma with protagonists like that. I'll look forward to it.

Ooooh interesting, I’ll try my best! 😁

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere romantic character, and others.

Character: Seth.

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

Your and Seth’s wedding was going great as it has everything you two wanted for it until when you were walking down the isles of the alter. You were killed by flora going straight through your body some even sprouting out of your body and around like it’s trying to encase you and make you disappear.

Seth was devastated to see who was supposed to be his wife minutes later die right in front of his eyes, he immediately knew who it was from what killed you. Seth did all that he could to possibly bring you back but sadly what he did never worked he even tried remaking you from bits of his life force plus the life forces that was still in your body but it ended with him using too much and dying in the end.

Horus ended up having to bury both of you after you both had passed, he made the tomb just for you out of the powers of king of Egypt so that you two could always be together even after death. He knew that it was all his fathers fault that you and Seth had died and made the big decision of taking care of Osiris for both of you, but before he did that he intertwined you and Seth’s fate so that you two could meet and have a better life together than this one without the interference of Osiris and his obsession with Seth.

You had reincarnated into the modern time without any of your past life’s memories so you never knew that you were previously a god. You were a college student when you met a red hair gentleman that also went to your college.

You two crossed each other a few times after that until you graduated from college with the degree you wanted and after that you haven’t seen him since then.

You started getting strange memories after meeting him afterwards, at first you thought it was just silly dreams but the more it happened the more you started to think it was something like memories rather than dreams, you’ve decided to write down your dreams to see if there’s any meaning behind them and such.

Seth; the red haired man you met while you were in college, had the same dream as you but in another perspective, he realized sooner that these were memories especially after seeing you in them as well.

You two met again while at a cafe , apparently getting the same thing and thought that one of the orders was yours. You two finally decided to start staying in contact since you two always seem to run into each other, soon enough you two started dating but that’s were the dreams kept coming in constantly before a repeat of the same dream started happening.

The dream was where you were in the wedding dress and walking down a wedding alter but before you could get to it you’ve kept getting killed by flora that shot up from the ground, there was always the same people along with Seth who was at the end of the alter he always seem to be the most affected by what was happening to you each time you look at the guests at your supposed ‘wedding’.

You started to distance yourself once you got the full picture of what had happened in your previous life, your paranoia had began making scenarios if you kept seeing Seth so you decided to break it off after a month of you two being together over text as you wanted to leave without feeling even more guilty than you already do.

Seth didn’t know what to think when he got your text about breaking up with him but he knew that he needs to go after you so that you don’t get hurt or killed again. Thankfully he made it in time to catch you before you leave, he made a whole scene that you felt pressured to agree to get back with him which caused everyone there to applaud not knowing that they shouldn’t have done that if they knew and believed in the situation you’re in.

Sadly that ended real soon when while eating a salad together, flora began to grow out of you from your mouth before it covered you entirely. You both immediately knew who had done this before you died in Seth’s arms once more.

(A/n: ok i know the ending was weird but i felt walking in nature might’ve been cliche plus i didn’t know what else besides eating sunflower seeds. Anyway hoped y’all liked it! And hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Seven

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~4,800

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

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The church was as she remembered it. Brick building. Lots of stairs. Big steeple reaching towards the sky. Lilah slouched in the back seat of Seth’s car, hoping that no one would recognize her. The brothers were less worried. Richie’s arm hung out the passenger side window, cigarette held between two fingers while Seth leaned his seat back and stared at the church.

The night was clear and cool. Lilah could feel a gentle breeze coming in from the open window. It carried with it the smell of earth and nicotine. The street was mostly empty, save for a pair of lovers walking side by side in a lazy stroll. Their steps brought the women in and out of the streetlights above, illuminating the adoring upturned gaze of the shorter of the two. She grinned at her partner while holding onto their arm, trusting them to lead her safely along. The taller woman’s expression was half hidden by the wide brim of a hat, but Lilah thought she could see an answering smile on her face. The sight of them sauntering past the car was wonderfully incongruous.

Lilah tapped the screen of her phone. Brasa hadn’t responded to her comments about the hotels. She read her message again, just in case she’d been too critical. No. No, she hadn’t. While the all inclusive resort was enticing, she didn’t think they needed that many amenities. It was just going to be a few days filled with really, really good sex. No need for a personal concierge or unlimited access to a spa. All Lilah required was a hot shower and a comfortable place to lay down. She kept imagining waking up in a really nice bed, eating something other than gas station food or the greasy offerings from the bar. She imagined lazy naps on sunny balconies. And Brasa. She thought a lot about Brasa. The first time they were intimate, Lilah was too overwhelmed by the venom to really appreciate what was happening. In the dream they shared, she got to feel every touch of his hand. Every kiss was potent. Lilah could still remember how it felt to have him inside her, demanding that she promise to see him. A promise she was keen to fulfill as soon as possible.

“What’s our window?”

Lilah blinked back to attention, “Uh, the morning services won’t start for a few hours.”

Seth looked over his shoulder at her, “That’s a wide window.”

She hummed, “For a job that’s going to take two minutes, tops.”

“If its still where you stashed it.”

Lilah shot him a baleful glance, “In all the months I cased that place, they never once cleaned under the stage. Its still there.”

Seth and Richie were silent. Lilah looked from one to the other, waiting for some kind of response. When one wasn’t forthcoming, she settled deeper into the seat and looked at her phone. Still no message. Lilah resisted the urge to send another text. Brasa was as busy as she was and she should really be focusing on the job. The faster she got it over with, the faster she could take her little vacation.

Eager to get started, Lilah tucked her phone away and sat forward, “Should we go in?”

Seth shook his head, “Not yet. There’s a lot of traffic right now.”

“Its two in the morning.” Lilah replied easily. “There’s no one outside.”

“So? People are leaving the bars right about now,” Seth shot back. “We’ll wait.”

Richie flicked his cigarette away, “Be patient. You still got the keys?”

She nodded, “I do.”

Her hand rested on the clutch containing Antonio’s key ring and various other items she’d picked up. It would be nothing to walk right up to the church doors and unlock them. Then, head down the aisle and snag that staff from beneath the stage. Lilah was fairly confident that this would be the shortest, and easiest, job she’d ever pulled. The easiest job with the highest stakes.

The project of finding all the relics Amaru needed to open the door was almost finished. They were now in possession of the book, the cup, and would be in possession of the staff very soon. All that was left was the knife. Lilah had no idea where it had gone. There was no documentation in either of the books about who had it last or if it had been stolen or sold. There wasn’t even a picture, just a crude drawing of a small blade with a jeweled hilt. She did some searching in a few reliable archives, but came up short where the location was concerned. The silver lining was, if Lilah couldn’t find the knife, it was unlikely that Amaru could find it, either. Besides, three out of four wasn’t a bad outcome. Especially since all four relics were needed to complete the ritual.

Leaning against the door, Lilah stared out of the window. Down the road was her old apartment. She could just barely see the building from where they were parked. Her rental car was still sitting in the lot. Months had gone by and no one had touched it. She was surprised by that. When they were done with getting the staff, she was going to run over there and get some of her stuff from the trunk. Lilah wanted her laptop and her favorite pair of jeans back.

Time passed slowly, until dawn was not more than forty five minutes away. Lilah leaned forward and reminded Seth that his brother wasn’t going to do too hot in sunlight, which seemed to spur him into action. She stepped out of the car behind Richie, who tossed yet another cigarette to the ground. The three of them walked across the street and into the parking lot at a measured pace. Lilah cast furtive glances all around, noting that the three of them were alone in the silence of the night. As far as she was concerned, this was as good as they could expect for privacy.

Lilah climbed the stairs ahead of Richie and behind Seth. Both of them had their hands tucked into the material of their jackets and the knowledge that they were armed was a comfort. She stuck the key into the deadbolt. It turned with a soft ‘click’. Lilah let out a breath, relieved that they hadn’t changed the locks in her absence.

Inside, it was just as dark as it was outside. The room was draped in shadows and the occasional slash of color from the stained glass. Nothing had changed, not even the faintly musty smell of the cushioned pews. Lilah hesitated only a moment to ensure the sanctuary was, indeed, empty. Then, she walked right up the center aisle towards the stage. There, she knelt and reached into the darkness beneath.

It was right where she left it. Lilah grasped the cool metal of the staff and held it up to the limited light. She felt the knot of anxiety she hadn’t even known was there loosen. Three relics down. One to go.

Richie walked up to her, “That it?”

Lilah stood, “Yep.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Seth moved closer, “You never told us who paid you to steal it in the first place.”

“I did,” came a voice from near the door.

Three heads swiveled around to find six or seven men blocking their exit. Flashlights lit the aisle atop semi automatic rifles that were pointed right at them. In the middle stood a middle aged man in a very expensive suit. His soft gray hair was swept away from his brow in a way that was meant to look careless, but couldn’t be accomplished without pomade, a round brush, and a hair dryer.

“Who the fuck are you?” Seth asked. His voice was much more polite than his words and he’d taken a step towards the men to put himself between them and his brother.

Lilah didn’t have to ask the question. She recognized the voice. She also didn’t have to ask what he was doing here. Mr. Pickerelle must have been watching the little town the whole time, waiting for Lilah to come back for her prize. She shifted the staff to hide it behind her thigh, as if that would do any good. Fear wandered around in her body, pumping adrenaline into her system. She widened her stance, not sure how this was going to play out. In her back pocket, her phone rang. Lilah ignored it. Whatever it was, it would wait until she wasn’t in mortal danger.

“I am Mr. Pickerelle. Who are you?”

“Seth Gecko. Nice to meet you. What do you want?”

Mr. Pickerelle moved in the shadow of his men. The lights above the sanctuary flickered on, illuminating the danger of the situation. It wasn’t six or seven men. It was closer to fifteen. All armed. All pointing their guns in their direction. Lilah’s heart kicked up a notch while her phone rang again. She kept ignoring it. There was no way in hell she was going to move an inch right now.

“All I want,” Mr. Pickerelle said amiably. “is your partner over there. You give me Ms. McNamara and our business if finished.”

Seth turned to look at her, “What’d you do to piss him off?”

She shrugged, “I walked out on the job.”

“Walked out?”

“Was dragged out,” Lilah amended. “by Brasa.”

“Ah. Not your fault, then.”

“Not really. And, I did call Mr. Pickerelle to let him know I couldn’t deliver.”

“Very professional of you.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“If you are finished,” Mr. Pickerelle interrupted. He waited for Seth to pay attention to him, then said, “Hand her over. You walk free.”

Seth’s chin dropped, “If we don’t?”

Lilah recognized the look on his face. Half challenge, half anger. Seth was raring for a fight and the odds against them didn’t matter. She stepped back and over so that she was half hidden by the pew. The wood wouldn’t last very long, but Lilah thought she could duck down for cover and scuttle out the back door fairly easily. From there, she would have to cross the courtyard to climb the wall into the alley behind the church and haul ass as far and fast as she could. All of that was predicated on not getting shot.

Where are you?

The words drifted through her mind softly at first. A rush of warmth came along with them. Heat suffused her temples, running along the sides of her head to the base of her neck. When the question was repeated, it was with much more force. Brasa’s voice demanded an answer. Her phone rang a third time. Lilah’s hand twitched to answer it. She squeezed her fingers into her fist to keep herself to reaching for her pocket. While Seth had Mr. Pickerelle distracted, Lilah focused on the image of Brasa and showed him a mental picture of where she was. The church, the church, the church.

I am coming.

Lilah sucked in a relieved gasp. The heat lifted from her neck, leaving her with only Brasa’s promise. She didn’t know how long it would take, but she was absolutely sure that Brasa would be there soon. Very soon. Even now, she could feel him moving with inhuman speed, closing the distance. Her attention returned to the room and Mr. Pickerelle’s smug face. He had no idea what was coming for him.

“If you don’t,” he said. “I’ll fill this whole room with lead and leave you to bleed out.”

For the first time, Richie spoke, “You’re assuming we won’t kill you first.”

Mr. Pickerelle laughed, “You know, I’ve heard of you—the Gecko brothers. I’ve heard you’re ballsy men. I’m so glad the rumors are true.” His expression sobered, “Don’t let your ballsy nature get you killed, gentlemen. I assure you, she isn’t worth it.”

Seth took a step forward, “I think you’re underestimating us. And her.”

“Couldn’t have said it better, brother,” Richie chimed in. She couldn’t see his face, but Lilah knew he was wearing that shit eating grin he wore whenever he knew he had the upper hand.

Lilah let a small smile cross her lips. As new as their partnership was, and as rocky as it had been, she was gratified to hear that Seth actually liked her. Richie, too. For once, Lilah wasn’t going to be forced to act alone in order to protect herself.

“You can’t honestly be willing to die for her,” Mr. Pickerelle asserted. “Just so we’re clear, that is exactly what is going to happen if you don’t hand her over.”

“Oh, you were clear,” Richie said. He was moving steadily closer and there was a dangerous cant to his shoulders.

Mr. Pickerelle nodded. “Alright. You know the terms. What is your answer?”

Seth rolled his eyes, “The fuck do you think?”

“Well,” Mr. Pickerelle sighed, “I guess I can’t fault you for loyalty. No matter how ill placed.” He turned to walk out of the sanctuary, “Good bye gentleman.” His hand lifted in her direction, “Lilah.”

The room was quiet as Mr. Pickerelle walked away with a few of his guards. Lilah readied herself to dive beneath the pews. It didn’t matter that there weren’t quite so many people pointing guns at them. They were still outnumbered. Why hadn’t she brought the pistol Seth gave her? She’d left it laying beneath her bed along with the cash she took from the casino job.

“How many can you get to?” Seth asked in a conversational tone.

“About three. Maybe four.” Richie was still moving towards the gunmen.

“Still leaves six or seven to me.”

Richie tossed his brother a look, “You’re complaining?”

A shrug, “Its just a little uneven.”

One of the guards stepped forward, gun raised. He was probably in his mid forties and he held his weapon like he knew what to do with it. The others followed him at a distance, most of them baby faced and hesitant. That would work in their favor. Lilah spared them half a second of empathy. None of them were going to make it out of this room alive. They might get in a few good shots, but Richie was going to be so much fast and so much deadlier.

“Listen,” the guard said, “I don’t want to have to do this. Just give us the woman and walk away.”

Seth glared at him, “I think we already said no.”

“I will kill you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t. You can still walk away.”

“So can you,” Seth retorted angrily. “Lower your weapons and head out. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

“I can’t do t—“

His head was rolling on the floor before Lilah even registered that Richie moved. She stared at it in wide eyed horror while a scream slowly built up in her throat. The noise of it was overshadowed by bullets being fired by the guards that remained. Richie zipped right along the line of them and, true to his word, ripped the throats out of the first four in succession. Seth had his gun out and covered him with the occasional shot, but it didn’t look like Richie really needed it. He was just too fast.

Lilah watched all of this from what felt like an ocean of distance. People were killing and dying in front of her and she was just standing there. At least, she was just standing there until a bullet whizzed by and clipped her in the side. Her knees gave out and she felt to the carpet with a cry. The pain was so sharp that tears welled up in her eyes, temporarily blurring her vision.

She’d never been shot before. Kicked and tackled and punched, sure. But, not shot. It hurt more than she expected it to. Like someone holding a white hot poker against her skin. Leaning into the pain only seemed to make it worse. She rotated slowly on her hip and tugged up the material of her shirt. The wound wasn’t very deep, but it fucking hurt. It was also bleeding heavily. Blood that looked too red soaked her shirt and fell down into the waistband of her jeans. Lilah clamped a hand over it to stem the flow while she struggled to get her legs beneath her. By the time she peeked out from the top of the pew, the room had gone silent. Only two people were left standing.

“Someone will have heard that,” Richie announced.

Seth wiped his brow, “Yeah. We should jet. Lilah?”

“Over here,” she called out. “I’m hit.”

With a loud oath, Seth hustled over to her, “Where?”

“Side,” Lilah answered. “Its a flesh wound, but I’m losing a lot of blood.”

Seth checked the wound, “That’s gonna leave a nasty scar. Let’s get you outside. I’ve got a first aid kit in the trunk.”

“¿Hola?”

Lilah froze, “Oh no.”

Standing at the door was Señora Abascal. The little old woman held her purse in front of her while she studied the many bodies littering the floor. Richie, who was still standing in the aisle, turned and grinned, “Go home, ma’am. This isn’t for you.”

Bless her, Señora Abascal held her ground, “No. You kill?”

He nodded, “I kill.”

Another round of screams filtered in from the parking lot. In her pain, Lilah could not feel how close Brasa had come. She didn’t have a single doubt as to what was happening to Mr. Pickerelle and the rest of his men. The screams continued for a long minute, followed by the sound of an engine roaring away.

Señora Abascal stared into the darkness, pacing slowly backwards. She nearly tripped over a fallen body before grabbing the end of a pew and righting herself. Lilah could see that her thin, frail fram was shaking, but the woman stood tall. She was proud of her. The scene outside the church was guaranteed to scar her for life, but the Gecko brothers weren’t the only people in the room that were ballsy.

Dizzy and a little bit nauseous, Lilah let her weight fall until she sat on the floor. Her entire side and the carpet beneath her were soaked in blood. She looked at the gash again with a pained wince. It was going to take more than a few stitches to close it up. She could feel how cold and clammy her skin was becoming and she knew she needed to get to a hospital.

Seth leaned over from where he was crouched beside her and said, “You’re late.”

Brasa’s voice was so very, very welcome, “Where is she?”

“Here,” Seth replied in a low voice. “She’s been, uh, shot. A little.”

The air moved and Brasa was suddenly kneeling next to Lilah. His expression was all concern as he touched her face. The cool leather was a balm against her cheek. Lilah leaned into his palm, “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he muttered. “But, you will be.”

In a smooth, practiced movement, Brasa shrugged off his heavy coat. He was wearing a navy sweater beneath that accentuated the strength of his body. Lilah very much wanted to press into that body for comfort, but the sweater looked pretty expensive and she was covered in blood.

Brasa pushed up his sleeve and took a knife from his pocket, “You’re not going to argue with me.”

Knowing what he meant, Lilah simply nodded, “No argument here.”

“Good. Drink.”

As his forearm lifted towards her mouth, Lilah heard Seth scoff above them. She looked up at him to find that he was walking away. There wasn’t much time to think about his reaction. Brasa’s blood was pouring into her mouth. Hot and sweet. Lilah whined as she drank deeply, her hands holding his arm to her lips. Like most things where Brasa was concerned, his blood sent little frissons of pleasure all over. The pain in her side waned to a dull ache and her nausea faded away. It was better than any painkiller she’d ever taken.

Brasa pulled his arm away. Lilah reluctantly let him. She ran a hand over her mouth to catch a few errant drops and sucked them from her fingers. Brasa’s hand at the back of her head tightened and he groaned low. Lilah caught his eyes. In them, there was concern for her well being. Behind that, however, was a fire that she recognized. One that she shared.

“We gotta go!” Seth yelled. “Police’ll be here soon.”

Lilah tried to stand, wincing all the way. Brasa let her try once, twice, three times, before he leaned down and scooped her up into a bridal carry. Lilah hissed when the movement pulled on her wound, earning a soft apology from Brasa. He cradled her against his chest and moved carefully down the aisle. Even with the support of Brasa’s blood, Lilah struggled to withhold the little whimpers of pain.

Seth and Richie were standing next to each other. Both of them were watching Brasa as he moved closer. Too tired to provide any kind of explanation to them, Lilah laid her head on Brasa’s shoulder and tried to relax. Every step he took sent sharp pain into her side. She gripped his sweater and breathed through it.

“You need to get her to a hospital,” Seth asserted firmly. Beside him, Richie lit a cigarette and nodded in agreement.

Brasa paused, “I’ll take care of her.”

“You better.” Seth crossed his arms and stepped aside, leaving a path open to the door.

Señora Abascal was still there, sitting in the pew, watching the whole thing. She had taken a seat and Lilah saw her rosary beads hanging from one hand. As Brasa walked closer, she crossed herself. Lilah thought she could hear an Our Father come whispering from her lips.

Brasa slowed his step as he went by, “Señora...go home. Forget this.”

She said nothing and crossed herself again. Lilah didn’t know what the old woman might be thinking. Likely, she was as shell shocked and bewildered at Lilah had been the night Brasa first revealed himself to her. She hoped that Señora Abascal would go home, find some sleep, and wake up in the sunlight thinking this was all a bad dream.

The trip down the steps was so excruciating that Lilah barely noticed the bodies strewn across the pavement. Every movement pulled on the gash in her side until it overcame the power of Brasa’s blood. She bit down on a cry of pain, “We have to stop. I can’t. It hurts too much.”

Brasa stopped, “I have to carry you somewhere to heal.”

“I know you didn’t bring a car,” she wheezed. “and you can’t run with me. I won’t make it.” Lilah breathed deep, “Put me down.”

“Lilah…”

“Put me down. I have keys to a car parked at my apartment. Silver sedan. Go get it. Bring it here. Take me somewhere in that.”

He hesitated, but eventually put her down. Lilah handed him the keys and waved him off. While she waited for him to come back, Lilah leaned her weight on her elbows and listened to the footsteps walking down the steps towards her. Richie and Seth appeared on either side of her.

“You gonna be okay?” Richie asked between drags on the stick in his hand.

“I think so,” she answered. “Gonna hurt for a bit.”

Seth started walking down the steps again. “You call us if you need anything. Don’t forget, we still have another job to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she drawled. Then, to Richie, “Sun’s coming up. You need to get underground.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mocked, but he followed his brother, anyways.

Brasa returned with her car, pulling it so close to the stairs that she thought he might drive it straight up to her. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was lifting her into his arms. He set her gingerly into the passenger’s seat and closed the door. Through the front windshield, Lilah saw Seth and Richie in their own car, watching. They waited until Brasa dropped into the driver’s seat before the engine turned over and the car sped away. Lilah sent them an affectionate wave.

The drive into the desert was a blur of slowly growing sunlight. Lilah went in and out of consciousness, holding her side all the way. It wasn’t until Brasa put the car in park that she realized where he’d taken her. The massive boulder looked much the same—totally and indescribably nondescript.

Brasa opened the passenger’s side door and reached for her. Lilah held up a hand, telling him that she could do it. He looked doubtful, but let her try. She managed to get herself to standing, but had to lean against the car when her head began to swim. Brasa, having reached the end of his patience, picked her up again and carried her to the hidden door. She rolled her eyes when he opened it with one hand, thinking that he was showing off even when she was injured. Inside, there was a significant change.

“You put an elevator in.”

“I did.”

“Did it take two weeks?”

Brasa smiled, “A little longer than that.”

The doors opened and he stepped inside. They closed again and the carriage hummed as it began to descend. They opened to a dark, familiar hall. Brasa stepped out in to the darkness and turned left. In the home he was making for them, Lilah noticed more changes. Lighting had been installed and the rough walls were now smooth. There were more rooms now, hidden behind dark holes in the rock. Brasa moved swiftly down a tunnel on the far wall. He took a turn and entered a room that Lilah recognized from one of their shared dreams. A large room with a bed that should have been, but wasn’t, lit by candles.

Instead of placing her on the bed, Brasa took another turn into an adjacent room. He set her on the counter and reached over to turn on the light. Lilah passed a hand over her face and looked around blearily. “How did you get plumbing down here?”

Brasa shot her a confused look, “That’s your question?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“We had plumbing before.”

“Oh. Right. Forget I said anything. Blame it on the blood loss.”

He shook his head, “Let me look at it.”

Lilah lifted an arm so that he could pull her shirt up, “Its not that bad.”

“Its a gunshot wound,” Brasa said. “It doesn’t have to be bad to kill you.”

He wasn’t wrong. It definitely could have been worse, especially given the number of bullets that were flying around the sanctuary at the time. Lilah could have ended out with her brains splattered all over the carpet.

“Lucky for me that you’re here to make me feel better.”

Brasa’s expression didn’t change as he examined the gash, “You’re healing already.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You haven’t had an infusion of my blood in a while. I wasn’t certain how long it would take to close.”

Lilah touched his arm, “I know. Thank you for being there.”

He met her eyes briefly, then grabbed the hem of her shirt, “Up.”

She let him undress her down to her underwear and bra. Then, she let him use a soft cloth to clean away the blood. His touch was gentle, but persistent. Not a drop of red missed his notice. When he was done, he helped her down from the counter and walked with her back into the bedroom.

“Can I get something to wear?” Lilah asked. “I don’t want to get blood all over if the wound hasn’t fully closed.”

Brasa nodded solemnly and brought her a t shirt from the dresser against the wall. She took it and pulled it carefully over her body. The pain from the stretch on her side was less than it had been an hour or so before—further evidence of the power of Brasa’s blood. Once she had the shirt on, Lilah performed the age-old magic trick of taking off her bra through the sleeve, tossing it onto the pile of bloody clothing on the bathroom floor. She did the same with her underwear. When she returned her attention to Brasa, he was holding back a grin.

Lilah cocked her head to the side, “What?”

The grin began to pull harder at his lips, “You were naked underneath me days ago and you’re suddenly shy?”

She paused, “Uh. Yeah. I guess. Its a habit.”

“You’ve been undressing in front of other people lately?”

Lilah sensed the danger in his words, “No. Not lately, at least.”

Brasa walked forward and curled a finger under her chin, “Just me, from now on. Yes?”

Her agreeable nod was interrupted by a yawn. He chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss her lightly. A hand at her back led her to the bed and Lilah climbed into the sheets. It didn’t matter that the sun was shining through the skylight above. She’d been up all night and she was too tired to care. Lilah curled up and fell into a much need sleep.

[kaycrouse13]

(Updated) My Shifting Journey + Other Things.

❘༻༺❘Intro:❘༻༺❘

I am Kay Crouse. 'Crouse' is pronounced as 'Cruise'. I am a FTM bigender person, and my pronouns are He/They. I am an adult. I have shifted over 75+ times since the 19th of September 2020. This is my journey leading up to me shifting so many times:

❘༻༺❘Methods:❘༻༺❘

These are the methods that I mainly use to shift with.

Intend/Intention Method.

Pillow/Pillow Holding/Pillow Cuddling Method.

Lucid Dreaming Method.

❘༻༺❘Methods that I have tried:❘༻༺❘

•Raven Method: Ughhh, I felt uncomfy laying on my back, and my limbs hurt a lot. So this isn't the method for me. I have gotten a lot of symptoms using it, though. I do think I've shifted with it before, too.

•Eye Method: The very first method that I Mini-shifted at school during a test with. It was really disorienting and unexpected. It was quite shocking and was the starting point of me believing that shifting was indeed possible.

•Alice in Wonderland Method: Felt extremely close and could visualize everything extremely well.

•Heartbeat Method: Felt a hand on my head, playing with my hair. I believe it to have been Natsu Dragneel from the anime Fairytail as that was the very first place that I wanted to shift to when I found out about shifting. I also swear that my pillow was moving and breathing at some points.

•Julia Method: Not much happened, I just got into a deep state of meditation, which felt strange.

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My Shifting Journey is a strange one. This post just explains more about my life and what struggles I had to go through to get where I am now, and it has some educational things as well. Feel free to ask questions, and I will try my best to answer. I am new to Tumblr, however, and also get overwhelmed easily, so please keep that in mind if I don't answer.

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❘༻༺❘Back story❘༻༺❘

《I feel like everything in my life have led up to me learning about Reality Shifting.》

《Remember that this is MY PERSONAL experiences.》

•Ever since I was young, I have always loved fantasy and all things considered magical. I was so mesmerized by magic and powers. When I first found out about subliminals, my whole life had changed. I used almost every subliminal I could find, and many of them worked really well! I experimented with a lot of things. I used eye color changing subs, physical appearance subs, magical ability subs, manifesting subs, grow wings or fangs subs, even go to fictional world subs before I even knew about shifting or I tried to manifest fictional characters here, etc... Basically, whatever I thought was interesting, I used.

•I don't really use subliminals much anymore, though. I found that I don't need them. And when I do listen to subliminals, I do so during the day when I'm not shifting, like while I play video games or do chores or eat. Lately, I've been listening to mha related shifting subliminals. I realize that I prefer subliminals that are more musically inclined rather than rain or static sounds. I like listening to music in subliminals as it helps me connect to my DRs(Desired Realities) better.

•I also had many paranormal encounters in my life. My house is kind of haunted. I am the type of person who has to see things in order to believe them. I ended up roaming the internet and finding out about spirituality, the paranormal, magical abilities, manifesting, law of attraction, psychic things, and many more. I live in house number 13 for anyone who's superstitious. Also, 13 is my favorite number, and Friday the 13th is my favorite day. I also adore Halloween.

•I was so interested in all of these things that I made it my lifelong goal to learn as much of it as I possibly can. I had to study and research it in secret, because of my family not really supporting such things, my mother did have some books I might have "stolen" about certain topics I was interested in, Like: dreams, Tarot, Mediums, Psychics, Spirituality. I have tarot cards, but I don't know how to use them or what they mean just yet. Although I don't feel as motivated as I used to be about all of these things.

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•Then I found out about Lucid dreaming, I watched so many videos about it, and it took me like a week of doing constant reality checks each day to have my very first Lucid dream. I had a great time learning about Lucid Dreaming. A few months pass, and I learn how to control my dreams so much better and make them last longer.

•Each time that I Lucid dreamt, I learned more and more about it and myself. I would get better at many things in the dream, and it was like I was practicing doing things in my dream. What I mean by that is the very first Lucid dream that I had. I tried to fly, and I struggled to do so a lot at first. Now, when I have a Lucid Dream, though, I can fly really well because I actually practiced flying a lot in my dreams. It is like I improved over the months/years. And now I just believe I my ability to do certain things in lusid dreams and even in my regular dreams I have gained more confident in my abilities.

•Then I took a break, for a really long time and I forgot about everything. Until I rediscovered this magical life again. I first found out about shifting on tiktok, I still remember the tiktoker who talked about it. I was so intrigued and confused and started researching it. I clicked on every video that I could and then went to Amino after some time.

•I have been looking for a way to go to different realities by using subliminals before I even knew about shifting. After I had the basic idea of what reality shifting was, I promised myself that I will Never Give Up. I am just a really stubborn person, and even if there was just a slight chance of going to the places I yearned to go to for so many years, I was going to take it. And when I make a promise to myself, I take it extremely seriously.

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•Then I practiced and experimented. I never gave up. I did sleep and awake methods, I meditated, although I sucked at it, and I'm not sure it was actual meditation most times. I drank a lot of water, which was really helpful for my health in general, although not at all necessary as I later discovered. I have unfortunately been a victim of 2020 shifttok misinformation for the longest time. My first full shift happened 18 days after I found out about reality shifting, I found out about it on the 19th of September 2020. I did have a mini-shifting experience a few days before that, however. That first shift set my journey in motion. I then began to obsess over shifting, and I counted every single day that passed that I would do something shifting related. I would be like, " Day 179 of my shifting journey, today I did this and this' in my shifting journals, and it was so overwhelming. I heard about taking a break and took a break for a week or so, and that helped me a lot. Ever since I took that break, I started to shift a lot more often. Taking breaks does not set you back in your progress at all. It actually helps a whole lot! I definitely recommend taking breaks.

•I have been documenting each and every little thing in my shifting journey. I type everything in a custom notes app on my phone and write it down in my many shifting journals that I own. (A Shifting Journal is just a normal journal I write Shifting related things in, this includes my scripts, experiences, methods and just overall shifting information, I also use it like a diary in a way. I have rebranded the title of these journals to 'Whatever Journals' now.)

•Having a shifting journal is not necessary, I just use it because it helps me organize everything, and I enjoy using it. I began to experience so many amazing things in these realities that I was shifting to, and I learned a lot that I wanted to document for myself and to potentially post about one day, which I guess I'm doing now again.

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•But everything isn't always perfect. I have cried a lot over my DR's/WR's and I got extremely frustrated multiple times. Many of my shifts were spaced out by a few days to even weeks when I first started, but recently it's been months in-between my shifts, which frustrated me a lot, however I am a lot more calm about everything now and I learned to take everything one step at a time and not to worry about how long it was taking me. I am going to shift regardless, inevitably anyway. Time doesn't matter.

•I also got traumatized in some of these realities that I have shifted to, and that sucks. I have maladaptive daydreaming disorder as well, I feel like this aided me with visualization, though. I absolutely enjoy visualizing a lot and find it quite easy to do so. I use visualization often during shifting attempts.

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•I honestly don't even feel like a Master Shifter, even though so many people have said that I am one and that I motivate them a lot and that I inspire them. That's really great, I'm truly so grateful for everything this community has done for me. I just feel like I am still too inexperienced to be called a Master Shifter even though I have shifted so many times already. However, I understand that I AM a Master Shifter, and I'm accepting it more now. It just feels weird sometimes.

•In truth, I still struggle going to specific realities, and I struggle to stay for long periods of time in these realities. I am getting a lot better at it, though, and that's really great! I'm making amazing progress. I have started to have more of a 'say' in everything, I guess, I now choose when I shift back, and that is a huge achievement for me!

•Usually when I would shift and think about my CR too much I ended up shifting back, now that I practiced and experimented with a lot of things I only shift back when I intend to do so now! Most times, oof. I also learned that even if you just think about your Safe Word, you won't Shift back if you don't have the intention to do so. Which I knew already. But it was cool to solidify that belief.

•What I'm working on now is going to specific places because my subconscious got so used to going to random realities (on purpose sometimes) that I feel like it's hard for me to go to specific realities now, even though I know it's not hard at all, I still have this limiting believe. I guess I should just reprogram my subconscious mind then. However, I don't really want to as I don't feel like I need to. I know that I can shift wherever I want whenever I want.

•I am also working on staying longer than 3 days, seeing as that is the longest time I have spent in a reality so far. I am still on this journey and have a lot left to learn. I will Never Give Up, these are the words I live by. I am a bit uncertain about one reality I may have potentially shifted to that could have been about a month DR time, but I think I was mostly jsut drugged or something and everything is such a hazy memory of an underground basement. So I don't know much about that, but I did think of it as a shift at the time.

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•I adore helping people and one of my reasons why I am shifting back here is to tell my stories and experiences and share my knowledge with as many people as I can. Also-shocker- I actually like my CR and plan on living here to see what happens.

•When I started my Journey I didn't have that many doubts, I did still have some doubts, but because of my past experiences I was extremely open minded. I didn't really question how it was possible, I was just happy that something like Shifting existed and that I finally had a way to go to the places I always wanted to go to.

•I tried finding all of the correct information and I wanted to learn as much as I possibly could about Shifting and all of its sub-categories so that I could teach more people about it and answer almost any questions that they had. I don't know all of the answers to every question, though. Many people have asked me some really creative questions already, and those really amazed me and helped me think more out of the box.

•I have helped a lot of people and taught them how to shift and gave them tips and so much information. I became the person I wished I had when learning about reality shifting. A downside I have is that I do get overwhelmed and tired when I help too many people at one time. I feel drained and have to recharge for a few days to be able to help people again. Which really sucks.

•I had to research everything on my own, I didn't really have anyone I could count on. When I was a 'baby shifter' and I asked a question, I didn't get an answer. So I got the answers all on my own and promised never to let someone go through what I had to go through to get the information. So now I try my best to help everyone get correct, reliable information. Although I'm only human, at least in this reality, I'm not human in most places that I have shifted to, so I do make mistakes.

•I gave people info that took me months to gather, I answered their questions when no one else would. Because I knew what that felt like. Also, I would consider myself really good at manifesting as well. I have manifested quite a lot of things already.

•I have manifested almost my entire life at this point. I have manifested: money, clothes, love, food, etc... And I get so many Lucid dreams more often now, too. I can also talk to my subconscious mind through Lucid Dreaming, and that taught me a lot as well about myself and confused me even more, haha.

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❘༻༺❘My view on Shifting now:❘༻༺❘

•I feel like a lot of people are making shifting this big, unachievable thing when it is actually normal and effortless and a natural part of our existence. I don't think people should make shifting this super amazing thing that is put on a pedestal and treat it as something normal.

❘༻༺❘Shifting isn't above you. You are above Shifting.❘༻༺❘

❘༻༺❘NORMALIZE SHIFTING.❘༻༺❘

•I get it though, I thought shifting was this incredible thing at first, and I still think it's great, but after actually doing it for so long it's like I'm just telling stories about my normal life, I find it strange, It's really complicated. Shifting just feels normal to me now. View Shifting like something that just naturally happens to you, which it does!

•I love helping people a lot, I share my experiences to motivate others and to help them get answers to questions that they have. However, I do get overwhelmed and drained easily when I help people for really long periods of time, and I don't take the time to take care of myself as often as I should. Although I have been trying to get better in that regard.

•I have been working on self care a lot and have gotten so much better already. My self-concept is decent enough, and my advice would be to treat yourself like royalty. I treat myself like a king and realize my self-worth, and I gained so much more confidence in myself and my ability to shift. Trust yourself.

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❘༻༺❘"The Final Push".❘༻༺❘

Many people asked me what I did to finally shift. Some people argue about what the final push really is. I think it is letting go, not like giving up, but just when you are at the edge of shifting relax as much as you can and have that feeling of sinking/relaxing into your DR overcome you. Don't force yourself into it. Steadily sink into the feeling of being in your DR and BEING your DR self. Merge with yourself, I guess.

•Also don't keep count of how long it's taking you to shift. That is irrelevant. You will shift eventually anyway, you have your entire lifetime, so relax and enjoy the journey. Everyone is different, and each person has something that works for them while that might not work for others. Find what works best for you and stick with it. Keep experimenting and practicing with different things. Everyone's journey will be different, make yours fun.

•For me, I just go with the flow, I usually use sleep methods, but I also used some awake methods too and shifted that way before. It feels like the world is physically transitioning around me sometimes. it's like when people say you can feel your surroundings changing. That does actually happen sometimes, and it's so weird when you are not prepared for it. Although that has only happened to me around 2 or 3 times.

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I hope that this cleared some things up and that it made sense. I feel like a few things don't make sense.😅💀This post is also all over the place, but oh well.🤷‍♀️ Anyway, Happy shifting!😄 You CAN and WILL shift! I believe in each and every one of you!💖

《111 333 777 999 222 444 888》

XOXO Kay

[foster-the-world]

Such different ideas

I follow Rebecca of Fosterhood on Twitter. I assume I am not the only one who remembers her? She was the single foster mom who adopted two girls very close in age from foster care. When I was looking into foster care I was pretty obsessed with her post. One of the adoptions took seven years and it sounds like their agency was especially terrible/invasive. Although she didn’t always come off great in all of her stories but who does??

Anyway they are on a fancy vacation in the Cayman Islands. She posted a picture of them sitting on a terrace eating a fancy breakfast. She said something about how she would worry about spoiling them but because they are foster to adopt kids they deserve a soft life. Interesting concept but nothing I’ve ever thought. I know her older daughter was more traumatized by foster care because she had visits and uncertainity for seven years. My kids were both three when adopted. They never had to deal with any uncertainties. Foster care was annoying for us as parents but not hard on my kids day to day life. Anyway maybe that’s the difference.

I do worry about spoiling my children - they have things I could never have dreamed of as a kid. Our financial situation is better then my parents so that trickles down to the kids. I love traveling so my kids have done more trips then a vast majority of adults. I travel hack and we prioritize over other things but still can only do it because we are very privileged. We have decided the benefits of travel out weigh the downsides of “spoiling” them. We’ve actively avoided the schools where the student population is very well off because they are never diverse but also because we want economic diversity. And again privileged to have another public school option. We don’t want our kids to think everyone is rich and white/asian - which is a nyc problem because the economic disparity is so high. So we worry about spoiling them and in some ways do but its unrelated to their adoption status. I would never think well it’s okay if Bee/baby boy gets something fancy but not Rebel.

We totally acknowledge the loss of adoption. That loss is multiplied when you are adopted outside of your culture. We will do what we can (therapy, relationships with bio family, living in diverse areas) to help them through those things. And also I think recognize there is no “getting through” such a big loss. Our kids can have wonderful lives and still always have to live with what it means to lose your birth parents. They will have to grapple with that and decide what it means to them. That’s not something a fancy vacation is going to make up for. Obviously Fosterhood wasn’t implying it would but still didnt sit right with me. I also don’t think of my adopted kids as victims that deserve repayment. It’s something they will have to deal with but everyone has something they have to work with. The loss that comes with adoption is a big one, no doubt, but they aren’t the only ones who have to deal with big loss. Anyway guess I’m just grappling myself with balancing recognizing my children’s loss without making it define them. In the end I mostly know it has nothing to do with what I think. As they grow they will decide what being adopted means to them and we will follow their lead.

[justlarkin]

Continuation: The reason why Monomasa wanted to talk to MC was because he was hoping that they'd be able to convince Drovain to absorb the rest of him because Drovain will die if he doesn't. MC isn't really down with this request because their job is to observe heroes' dreams and Drovain's dream is for Monomasa to be able to come out and finally live his life without being controlled by others. Asking Drovain to give up on his dream would go against their job and, quite frankly, Drovain seems to care more about Monomasa's wellbeing than his own, so he wouldn't be down with it regardless. Monomasa and Drovain are both eventually going to be screwed if this doesn't happen though, unless MC pulls some shenanigans, so MC has some stuff to think about.

Danzo was actually listening to their conversation, so in the morning when he sees MC internally stressing about the situation, he decides to distract them from it by being obnoxious, which is nice of him imho.

Galvo finally ends up remembering that he's actually heard about an observer named MC from Exio. About them being a Unique, bringing back Mt. Fuji, that their power and skill are a mess, but they're on their way to becoming something... which shouldn't be possible since that all occurred in the present world and MC should be the only MC present. Exio would also tell Galvo that he couldn't meet MC when he asked about it. Exio was telling others about how based and OP MC is, ain't that sweet? Or ominous? Why not both? It's interesting how much he divulged to Galvo since he's usually so secretive, even around Seiichiro and his gang. MC wasn't even something he would have to mention at any point since Galvo didn't know about them, it was unprompted. Maybe Exio feels comfortable mentioning the things going on in the present world to him because he figured that it was a separate world and nothing would come from it if he knew. I'm choosing to believe he just uses Galvo to vent and traumadump on because he doesn't want to pay for therapy.

So anyways, the gang comes to the conclusion that Galvo's Exio and their Exio are most likely the same guy and bro has been using his power to world hop or that Galvo's Exio and their Exio have been communicating. According to Monomasa, this seems to line up with Exio making random schedule changes as if he knew the future, which would be possible if he already experienced these events in other worlds or if he's getting a heads up from someone.

The current objective is to flip Exio's bricks and get back to their own world, and by extension Danzo can back to his master. MC starts getting the feeling that Seiichiro's order for Danzo to protect MC might be getting in Danzo's way, which seems to be true since he seems to be hindered in battle while protecting them. MC can finally understand what Monomasa meant by Drovain being incomplete and weaker while he's around.

MC ends up talking about feeling bad for getting in Danzo's way, which Danzo "nuh uhs", and this leads to a conversation about the relationship and trust between heroes and operators, trust being a two-way street for them. Galvo asks MC who is that ideal hero that they can put their trust in and the game makes you choose between Akashi, Mokdai, and Sui. As you can see, it's red, so this option is important and the game WILL REMEMBER it for later. I would've picked Sui, but went with Akashi since I know that from a narrative point, Akashi is the one who desires MC's trust and faith the most.

Galvo requests that MC put the same trust they'd put in that chosen hero in all of them for now and work together. Monomasa seems to take his words into consideration, so maybe they'll work things out between Drovain and Monomasa at some point with a collaboration of some sort. Galvo then suggests that MC just order Danzo around, so they won't feel like a hindrance to him and, you know, teamwork, which both of them go along with.

They get to the place Exio and Galvo crashed, so that MC can try to open up a path to their world, but they discover that the area is too unstable to do so. Danzo shows them that the facility stats Grigory showed them earlier are waaay over what they should be and ominously says something that can be summarized as "we're probs boned" before the screen statics out.

[tinylongwing]

For the top 5/top 10 meme: top character arcs!

Oh jeez! Okay this is awesome, let me dig deep into my brain. Also there's no way I remember every character arc I've ever witnessed so this is just gonna be the first good ones that come to mind, haha.

For my Lord Huron folks, I'm going with Lee Green as one answer. Girl!! You champion! Takes off on her own to try and make a career work for herself in the big city of Los Angeles after bailing on 1960s Detroit and her loser boyfriend. Winds up hooked on vide noir while in the clutches of Z'Oiseau who basically just collects pretty girls as temporary trophies because he's some fucking cosmic horror creep I guess, but somehow she gets out of that? Kicks her addiction, takes back her stage name and releases multiple albums and lives her dreams. Lee, how did you manage this when basically every other character winds up dead or suffering or missing. Good heavens.

And no okay I can't resist, I'm putting another LH-er in here because my boy Johnnie Redmayne is too ridiculous. Is this even a character arc? Yes. Kid lives a life of joyous violence and hedonism in a gang, risk-taking coupled with a need to support his friends and family monetarily leads to his kidnapping and murder, but then he's like fuck that, death sucks! I don't want to die, that's boring and also getting murdered via cosmic horror drug overdose is a real big nightmare which probably unlocked some really terrible secrets he'd rather not reflect on. Nope, better to just come back, now undead, out of sheer stubborn refusal to accept death! That's way cooler. Party on, haunting desert travelers forever. Child, you're doing great and I support you.

Okay, One Piece is also like ridiculously chock full of amazing characters with the world's most unnecessarily fleshed out and traumatizing backstories, and everyone who knows me knows that I'm very much here for Trafalgar Law. Yeah yeah, and Rosinante, but look, Law is the actual major character here who grows so much as he sees his whole world burning down around him as a child, goes from self-destructive and nihilistic to learning to trust and love people again to the point where he will always put himself in harm's way before even letting anyone touch a hair on his crew's heads. Such a wholesome goth. So much found family.

Having relatively recently watched Twin Peaks (FINALLY I know) I have to put Dale Cooper in here. This is not a positive character arc, this is a man whose joy and brilliance and successes against some really dark forces led him to thinking he was capable of anything in the pursuit of justice and truth. Turns out that was probably wrong! Whoops! And now he's possibly doomed? Look, the ending of Twin Peaks is massively open-ended but Cooper is very much a deeply tragic character and I'm kind of obsessed with tragedy and bad endings.

And I'm going to stop at five or I'll never get any work done, so fifth here will be.... hm. You know what, Seo-bi from Netflix's Kingdom. I can't get enough of characters in a scientific or medical sort of role in period dramas, I think that's very very good (and Goodsir from The Terror was a very near fifth choice here for some similar reasons). But I love Seo-bi in particular because she has knowledge, she uses it, she perseveres despite so many challenges including politics and also literal zombies, and the show continually throws a couple of characters at her that look like they're supposed to be love interests and she's always like NO! Fuck off! I'm doing important medical work here, I have no time for kissing!!! And that's very powerful of her and I love that for her so much. I'm sad that this series appears to be on hold maybe forever now.

[huellitaa]

ྀི ୨ embarrassment ୧ ྀི

...is a social construct designed to make us feel bad by those who cant handle their own mistakes & or shortcomings.

seriously. like. it baffles me how people are still living in the mindset where they let embarrassment become anything more for them than a concept.

୨୧ embarrassment

- a feeling of self-consciousness, shame, or awkwardness.

embarrassment is perfectly normal. it happens to everyone because we all make mistakes. but some people let embarrassment and the fear of embarrassment consume them and the choices they make far too much, far too often.

♡ which leads me onto my first point; it is completely normal. everybody makes mistakes. this is our first time in this life and we are all learning & growing with our every choice, every action, every decision <3 remember that the next time youre panicking and freaking out because you made a mistake.

♡ its never that deep. i like to try be gentle w this stuff but lemme tell u straight no one actually cares . im serious,, like babes no one gives a shit honestly 😭😭 and your mentality should be the same. people remember this stuff n laugh for 5 mins and then theyre back to their life. and if they hang on to it for longer then theyre the one who should be embarrassed.. get a life pls??

♡ similar to what i said a moment ago , its. never. that. deep. laugh it off !!!!! giggle !!!!!! laugh about it !!!!!!!! nobody cares !!!!!! this shows that it doesnt faze you and this shows how confident you are within yourself that you dont let silly little mistakes bother you because they do not matter.

♡ when it comes to your interests, please never be embarrassed about these. this is something ive struggled with since i was little but never never never be embarassed of the things that bring you joy. if they arent hurting anyone and are perfectly okay you should never be embarrassed ab that. it makes you happy. why should you be ashamed of that for someone else???🩷

♡ has someone ever said something to you? made u doubt urself? then you get embarrassed ab it???? dont. do not even go there. i ws so insecure before (i know😭😭) and couldnt hold a single opinion for myself but when you know who tf you are you wont be doubting yourself for anyone ml.

♡ so... you wanna pursue your dreams but ur too embarrassed. ur too embarrassed and worried "what if this doesnt work" "what if it doesnt happen" n whatever other dumb shit ur worried abt and scared to outgrow your surroundings and evolve. wow. you know how silly that sounds? so.. like.. let me get this straight... youre telling me... that youre not doing what you love... for the sake of someone else or some silly little doubts????wow. you get one life n youre doing that. GET IT TOGETHER BABES. GET REAL. WHY WOULD U SABOTAGE URSELF LIKE THAT????? YOURE WORTH SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT LIKE 😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷

♡ understand that peoples perceptions of you are often reflections of themselves just like your perceptions of others are often reflections of yourself. they think its embarrassing because they know for a fact deep down that theyd be too embarrassed and self conscious to do it themselves.

♡ and then watch the way they'll all come crawling back apologising and grovelling the moment you're rich and successful and got everything you ever wanted.. all because you had the confidence to trust in yourself and pursue what you wanted without listening to their self doubts. <3

♡ reverse psychology. "why r u doing that" "thats so cringey" why r u so wrapped up in my business? thats so cringey

♡ overall, confidence, strong self concept & trusting in your ability to bounce back from anything are the three main things that will never let you wallow in this silly little emotion again. embarrassment is like a pitiful, more insignificant, ridiculous version of fear. if ur gonna be scared then b scared of something worth ur time babe ur more than that <33

[littlest-bugz]

is it possible to split from being over tired..? found a new guy but we cant pinpoint why he exists?

Hey Nonny!! I’m here to help you o7

While I will preface with the fact that I’m not a medical professional, I do have plenty of experience with alters splitting for seemingly unexplainable reasons.

First things first, and short answer ; It is under my non-medical belief that alters can split due to high fatigue.

Long answer,,,, Im giving you some questions to ask yourself to see if you can pinpoint something that can lead to an increase in fatigue or that may be particularly stressful. It is also under my non-medical belief that every alter splits for a reason- some are just more obvious than others.

If you’re more interested in my thoughts on splitting from fatigue, Ive made it obvious where the questions start and end.

— QUESTIONS BELOW —

All of these questions are based off of assumptions so take what you need and leave what you don’t. Oh, and dont send in any answers- not because I don’t necessarily care, but I feel as if Im kind of,,, beating around the bush to find the bee’s nest, iykwim? It’s all just food for thought- get cogs working.

Starting off with fatigue and sleep,,, is there an easily explainable reason for being overly tired? As in, has something been keeping up (pos, neu or neg)? Or are you having a chronic fatigue flare up?

If you’re staying up for more positive reasons, ask yourself why you’ve adjusted your sleep schedule. Is there a reason why you cant do whatever you might be doing during daytime hours? Like did work hours increase? have you been finding yourself more busy generally? Or are you just getting really hyperfocused on reading/watching something? More importantly ; are you using whatever you’re doing as an escape from stressors in your life (assuming that something positive is keeping you up)? It’s very easy to accidentally stay up when you’re trying to avoid your life.

And now Im going to assume that it is something negative is keeping you up… is it something easily pointed out? Like are you ruminating on thoughts, have you been getting nightmares/bad dreams that you are trying to avoid (which u can have nightmares without remembering their context. U just wake up fucked up for no reason- that may or may not be the case dependent on other answers). I would ask more specific, trauma related questions, but Im not your therapist. Just a guy who yaps on the interwebs.

Now… we’re going to assume you have a stressor that is not obvious, since it seems like you can’t find a reason why you might have split.

If you work : Have your hours increased? Did you get a new coworker that you dont like (or have u been working with one you dont like)? Did something happen at work recently that stressed you out (maybe an increase in responsibilities or, if u work in customer service, maybe a bad customer experience)? Are you worried about losing your jobs or a decrease in hours? Are you worried your hours might increase? Is your boss a prick?

Those kinds of things are good things to ask yourself if you work bc those are really easily overlooked stressors. For most people who work, a job can significantly increase stress, which also leads to sleep disturbances.

If you do not work (hello fellow unemployed person), I have questions too.

If you have friends ; Is there drama going on rn? Whether it be messy or justified. Did a particular friend trigger something? Whether it be trauma, RSD- just anything. Did a friend distance themself in some way? Did someone say something that put you off?

If you have pets ; Did one go through something recently? Did one of them pass away? Are they all good?

If you have family that you are in contact with ; Did any of them do something that bugged you? If you live with them, do any of their habits stress you out?

I honestly have so many more questions you could ask yourself, but I would have written a post TOO long.

— QUESTIONS END —

My thoughts on splitting from fatigue…. More than likely. A lot of reasons why fatigue may be higher point back to daily life stressors. An increase of daily life stressors can eventually add up and effect your sleep and ability to further deal with stress. Bc,,, keep in mind- fatigue and disturbances in your sleep makes your stress tolerance lower, which in turns makes daily life stressors even less tolerable than they usually might be. So someone could split for “non-trauma” reasons (which it is debatable to call stress non-traumatic, but thats a separate post).

Now,,, I don’t know your system, Nonny, but from the sounds of it, your system is polyfrag in nature. Polyfrag systems split more fragments due to a lack of easy to access, non-dissociative coping mechanisms for ANY stress. So if u are polyfrag- It makes even more sense why you would split someone due to an increase in fatigue.

Ill stop yapping now!! Godspeed, Nonny! I hope i helped u o7

[animatorweirdo]

When the dragons fly

You reminisce about the past, which leads you to an awkward predicament. Aelon is frightened as his dreams seem to become a reality.

Chapter 7

Warnings: mentions of loss of childhood, some PTSD moments, social awkwardness, disappearances, hypnosis, violence, blood, kidnapping, and falling.

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

You walk up to the balcony of the tavern. You leaned your arms against the wooden railing and looked down upon the people below you. Elves, humans, and dwarves crossed the streets. The city was small and diverse. It nearly reminded you of King’s Landing, except without the elves and dwarves. 

You look over to the mountains, thinking about a moment you once had with your father when you were a young little girl who recently bonded with a dragon. 

You remember your father taking you to the garden where you could almost see the whole city and hear the soldiers training in the courtyard. You were curious back then as you looked down on the soldiers and guards. 

“(Name),” Your father said. 

“As you can see, the training will be difficult. I will not go easy on you because you are my daughter. You will need to train as hard as them because one day, they will follow your orders on the battlefield,” your father stood beside you. 

“They might doubt you and look down on you because you are a girl. They have been taught from a young age that girls and women do not belong on the battlefield, but I do not believe in such a thing. I think you have the potential to become an excellent commander, so prove them wrong and work hard to earn their respect,” he explained. “I will father!” you looked up to him in admiration.  

“I will be the best commander you have ever seen!” You said with excitement, making him smile. “I hope so too, but we’ll have to wait till you’re older. You’re still young, so enjoy it while you still can,” he said as you began to walk through the garden. 

“I can’t wait! When I get big, will we fight the bad guys and save people from trouble? Oh, Can I get to save a prince from a tower?” you asked enthusiastically. 

“A prince from a tower? Now, where have you heard such a thing like that?” your father looked at you perplexed. “Well– you always hear about princesses getting kidnapped and taken to a tower as a hostage, so don’t you think it would be nice if a prince gets kidnapped this time?” you asked. He burst into laughter. 

“That… would be interesting, and what then, you get happily married?” he asked. “Maybe— I don't want anyone to pick my prince for me. I want to find my own prince!” you firmly stated. 

“We’ll see when you get older. You will be busy with the training, so your search for a prince might have to wait,” your father chuckled, patting your head. “That’s okay. I’m in no rush. I can always find him later. Do you think Baleria would like him?” you asked. “Who knows? It will depend on Baleria alone if she likes your prince or not,” your father explained. 

“Are you certain I can become a commander? Mother doesn’t seem to like the idea,” you asked as you began leaving the garden. 

“She’s just worried like always. You will be fine. I’ll make sure you will be strong enough to handle everything that comes your way in life,” he said. “Everything?” you looked at him curiously. “Everything— you will be strong enough to survive even the most violent of wars,” he said as you left the garden to join your mother for dinner. 

You came back to reality and continued staring at the people below you. Oh, how naive you used to be back then. You almost miss it — being innocent and living in blissful ignorance. 

Your battles with the bad guys were simply the eradication of rebels and people who sought to strike down the Targaryen house, and you barely helped people out of trouble because your family members did not want you to make them look soft. And you never got to save a prince from a tower, which was a shame. 

All these things were just empty words to hide the brutal reality. It made you wonder if your father truly wanted you to become a commander and take his place once he was gone or if he just wanted Baleria on the battlefield. 

You wished you could ask him, but that was beyond your capabilities. You might have survived the horrible ordeal to come to Middle Earth, but bringing someone back from the dead required more than simple luck. 

You heard something ramble inside the tavern. There were heavy thuds and yelling of angry men. You stood up and made your way down from the balcony. Whatever your father would have said. It didn’t matter anymore. But you should check on Helena and her brother since he tends to get himself into trouble. 

You opened the door, looked inside, and then walked over to the bar table where Helena was seated as men laughed and yelled in the tavern with the smell of alcohol lingering in the air. 

You sat down next to Helena. “Is your brother up to something again?” you asked as you both observed Mika playing a game with other men, drinking and laughing. “Just being an idiot like usual. I swear if I have to drag him back home drunk. I’m going to make him sleep in the stables,” Helena uttered in annoyance, making you chuckle at the thought. 

“Oh,” Helena stood up when you two saw Mika starting up some racket. “I knew it! We should have brought someone else because my brother is just too useless to be of any help,” She said, then went quickly after her brother to calm down a possible tavern fight. 

You observed, your mind returning to the days when you ended up in some tavern fights thanks to your men and position as a woman. Some men in Westeros always had a problem with you being a woman and a commander, so you got challenged fairly often whenever you traveled or just wanted a break. 

Life wasn’t easy in Westeros, especially if you were a woman. 

Your mind wandered deep as you remembered those violent times when you had to fight for your safety and honor. You could almost hear the sounds of men screaming and the swords clashing with each other. It left you thoughtless of everything around you. 

The door of the tavern opened. Three elves walked inside, two of them wearing tired and grim expressions while following the silver-haired elf.  “Come now, brother. One little drink hurts nobody, especially after a successful hunt,” he started with a grin. 

"I wouldn't mind if this place wasn't filled with so many humans. You know I prefer to be at home drinking than come to a tavern in a rundown city," one of them said. "Oh, don't be such a brood. If you're bored, how about talking with some lovely maidens?" the silver head spoke. "I doubt anyone would be interested in talking with you, Tyelko," the third one of the group stated. 

"Wanna bet, dear little Carnistir? For your knowledge, I can be very charming when it comes to lonely maidens,” the silver head said confidently. "I pity the maiden you decide to bother," Carnistir said.  

The blond-haired elf looked around till his eyes fell upon your figure, sitting at the bar table alone. “Ah ha, now watch and see,” he said before approaching you, making his two brothers roll their eyes. 

You were still so deep in thought that you did not notice him approach you from behind. Your mind was still thinking about your old days of wars and survival. “Hello there-!” Tyelko gently touched your shoulder, and your mind flashed to a memory where you nearly got killed by an assassin who attempted to slice your neck from behind.  

Out of reflective instinct, you swiped your healthy arm behind his head and smashed his face against the table. A loud bang echoed through the tavern, gaining people’s attention while you kept a tight grip on the stranger’s face. It took you a moment to realize the situation. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you pulled your hands away in panic. “I wasn’t paying attention, and you– you startled me,” you almost stuttered in your words as the silver-haired elf picked himself up from the table, rubbing his swelling face. 

“No worries, but – my, you sure have a strong grip, my lady,” he groaned painfully, then looked at you. “And you’re a human maid, I see. I apologize,” he said and walked away. You looked at him before turning back and feeling your face burn with embarrassment.  

The two that waited at the door looked at the silverhead as he returned with a bruise on his face. “So much being a charmer,” one of them said while Carnistir snickered after witnessing the whole thing. “Yeah, yeah, let us just go. I changed my mind. The wine at home is far better than the liquor here,” he said. “Yeah, right,” the two rolled their eyes while following him out of the tavern. 

A red-haired elf was waiting outside, petting his horse. He looked up when he saw the door open and noticed his companions walk out. “What happened to you?” he asked after noticing a bruise on the silver head’s face.

“Tyelko over here thought it would be a good idea to ‘charm’ a maiden. Only to have his face pushed on the table after scaring one,” one of them explained as they climbed back on their horses. 

“That’s new,” he said, looking at the silver head with amused eyes. 

Tyelko groaned. “Let us just go. It was surprising that she was a human, though. I thought she was an elf maiden with that kind of appearance,” he said while his companions only shook their heads at him. They clicked their heels and rode away from the tavern. 

You hear horses outside the tavern, so you guessed the blond elf and his companions left. It gave you some relief since most men in Westeros did not like having their pride hurt and would come back for a payback. You were glad since you preferred to avoid conflict, but it did not save you from the embarrassment since you did slam someone’s face on the table out of nowhere. 

It was so dreadful that you had to order a drink to ease the embarrassment. You groaned against your hand. This was not how you had planned your visit to go.

Helena returned to you, holding Mika’s ear after pulling him out of trouble. “And stay put!” she forced him to sit on a stool before looking at your slouched-down form. “What happened? I noticed your face slammed someone on the table?” she questioned. 

“Please. Do not ask,” you groaned while considering your life choices. 

Aelon tosses around on his bed. His brows and nose frown and squint while frightful yelps escape his mouth. His mind wanders into a familiar dreamscape. 

He was back in the forbidden forest, standing in the middle of the opening with nothing but crows and ravens flying above him, cawing and making noises that sounded like laughter. He was shaking as he stared at them with fright. 

Familiar music filled the air. Aelon gasped and looked around for the source. The strange melody tried to calm down his nerves, but ever since he saw the face of the warg, he was always filled with uncontrollable unease. 

He stood back when he saw the familiar dark figure playing the flute. “Go away!” he yelled, fearing to see its face again. “Please—!” he begged. 

Shrieks suddenly filled the air. Aelon jolted and then saw his dragon flying above him. His dragon was frantically flapping his wings, screaming at him in fright and worry. 

“Falconer, what’s wrong?!” Aelon yelled. 

He then turned around and found the dark figure standing right in front of him again. His breath was stuck in his throat as he looked into those familiar white eyes. He screamed when the figure grabbed him. 

He jolted from his bed, gasping and feeling beads of sweat running down his skin. He looked outside and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Everything looked normal. 

He thought about his recurring nightmare. It had been two days now. He didn’t know why he kept dreaming about the forest, the terrifying figure, and the song that kept playing inside his mind. He didn’t know what to make of it and why it felt more real than it looked. 

The only different thing that happened was Falconer appearing in the dream. 

You once told him dreams could hold strong meanings and even be signs of the future, but he didn’t feel like it was showing him anything. It felt more like a punishment for his misbehavior. 

He sighed and tossed the blanket away, getting up to prepare for the day. 

The hairy part of the broom sweeps across the wooden porch, pushing away the yellow dust and leaves that flew with the wind. Aelon jolts when he sees the village’s watchmen yell and move around in panic. 

They were yelling something and ordering each other to find more people. It was so sudden, and the frustration in their voice nearly startled him.  He had never seen them act like this before. He then noticed Eweniel running up to him. 

“Ae! Have you heard?” she questioned with a worried tone. “Heard what? What has happened?” Aelon asked, confused and concerned. “It's Samuel. He has gone missing,” she replied. Aelon’s eyes widened.  

“Missing? How did that happen?” he asked. Eweniel shrugged her shoulders. “No one knows. He was with Ramuel, then poof. He was gone,” she explained while flailing her hands in an example. “No traces of him. He just vanished in the air,” she added. 

“His parents are not letting Ramuel leave the house. They’re afraid he’s gonna go missing too,” she said while Aelon wondered about his friend. “But how?” Aelon muttered. “I don’t know, but Ramuel said he heard some kind of music before Samuel disappeared,” Eweniel answered. Aelon paled when she mentioned the music. 

“I sneaked here to see you so I could warn you. Be careful and do not go into the woods,” Eweniel left before Aelon could ask more about the music. 

He thought about the music he had been hearing and how he was always enchanted to follow it in his dreams. It led him to the forest and then to the monster, and then the nightmare usually ends. Did it happen to Samuel? Was this happening outside his dream? 

“What’s the matter, little Targ?” Dwenn’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. Aelon looked at the older man.  “You look troubled. Is there something on your mind?” Dwenn asked. “Is Samuel really missing?” Aelon asked, hoping it was just a mere conscience. 

“I’m afraid so –” Dwenn answered with a pitiful look.  “His parents are fearful to let Ramuel go outside. They fear he will vanish as well, especially when he mentioned something about music he heard before his brother’s disappearance,” he explained. 

“Say… Aelon. Didn’t you once mention hearing something the day when (Name) left?” Dwenn asked. Aelon hesitated to answer. He wasn’t certain if he should tell about it, but he didn’t want to lie either. “I don’t know…” he uttered. “What did the music sound like?” he questioned. “No one knows. Ramuel described it as beautiful and loud, but no one else could hear it,” Dwenn described. “We better get some more wood and call it a day. Samuel’s parents have asked everyone to participate in the search,” Dwenn walked toward the chopping place. 

Aelon felt dread since the chopping place was near the woods, where he heard the music and nearly got tempted to go there. “Can we not go there today?” he quickly asked. “What if I vanish next?” he questioned fearfully. 

“It should be fine. We only need a couple of blocks,” Dwenn said, trying to comfort him. “I keep a careful eye on you, then escort you back to Helena’s family,” he patted Aelon’s shoulder. “Does that sound good?” he asked.

Aelon wanted to say no– but couldn’t bring himself to utter the word, so he nodded and walked with Dwenn to the chopping place. 

“Unbelievable,  first the wells dry up, you get attacked by a warg, and now children are going missing,” Dwenn started as they walked. Aelon thought about the creature from his dream. “What if someone is doing this?” he asked. “What if someone is playing music to lure us away?” he added. “That... would make sense, but who would do such a thing?” Dwenn asked. “Maybe a foul spirit of sorts?” Aelon suggested. “Perhaps, but we need to be careful,” Dwenn said as they arrived to the chopping place. 

“We just need a couple of things. Help me gather some planks and stay in my sight,” Dwenn said strictly. “Okay…” Aelon nodded and began helping gather the planks. He glanced toward the forest that wasn’t too far from him. He felt unease, and his imagination only made him wait for something to come out, like a warg or the creature from his dreams. 

But when something didn’t come out and a few minutes passed, Aelon shook his head and tried to stop thinking. His imagination was making him paranoid. Perhaps there wasn’t a flute-playing monster. Perhaps Samuel’s disappearance was just a coincidence. He will see once he carries the planks back to Dwenn’s shop and spends the day inside Helena's home. 

Aelon relaxed himself and tried to continue helping Dwenn. 

Something then filled his ears. Aelon gasped and covered his ears when he realized it was the music of the flute.  He was ready to call out to Dwenn, but something within his mind held him back like he didn’t have to do anything. 

The peaceful tune softly calmed down his racing heart. The fear in his mind vanished, and an odd sense of longing filled his heart.  The longing to find and hear the music. 

Aelon tried to resist when he remembered all the nightmares, but then the music’s tone turned softer and assuring. It was a new tone. He began to feel like he had nothing to be afraid of. 

He looked toward the forest, and his longing and desire to find the music became more stronger. His mind fell into a daze. The wooden planks dropped from his hands as he could no longer resist and slowly walked toward the forest. 

“Aelon?” Dwenn questioned when he heard something fall. He looked around, finding no sight of the blond-haired boy. “Aelon?” he called out again. “Little Targ?” he called out louder. “Aelon!” he yelled in a rising worry. 

Aelon’s shoes stepped across the mossy ground. Crows and ravens flew above him, watching him as the flute’s song led him through the forest. 

Aelon couldn’t think of anything. Everything was blank and empty. All he could think about was the soft, beautiful music that filled his ears, deafening everything around him. It sounded so wonderful. 

The song led him to a familiar clearing. He saw someone sitting on the rock, wearing a cloak and playing the flute. He stared at them in a daze as they continued playing. 

They looked similar to the monster from his dream, yet nothing alike. They wore a familiar cloak but did not have antlers or claws. Their hands were pale yet normal. 

Aelon stopped before them and stared at them with wonder. They were playing the silver flute beautifully, and the music allured his very being. There was a strange feeling in his mind, like a voice telling him to stop and run away, but the music was beautiful, so he ignored it. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear more. 

The strange person stopped playing when they noticed him. The music still echoed in Aelon’s ears as he looked at the person who stood up and hovered over him like a tree. He saw red eyes look down on him and sharp teeth that formed into a toothy grin as the person held their hand above him. 

Aelon didn’t do anything as the hand approached his face till someone shouted. 

“Get away from the boy, you fiend!” Dwenn tried to strike the person with the hatchet. The hooded figure quickly avoided the older man, and Aelon was snapped out of his trance by the sudden intrusion. 

“Dwenn?” Aelon questioned as the older man stood in front of him, keeping a protective hand over him. His heart began to race when he saw the hooded strange crouch on the stone, silently hissing at them. 

“Get back to the village, Aelon! Run!” Dwenn threw the hatchet around, making the hooded figure back away with a hiss. 

Aelon backed away, fear taking over his every thought. “Run, Aelon! Run!” Dwenn yelled as the hooded stranger’s body suddenly sprouted wings and separated into a swarm of giant bats. The creatures attacked Dwenn, clawing and biting his skin.

Dwenn screamed as one of the bats latched onto his face, plunging its fangs into his eye. Aelon gasped in horror when he saw blood gush from the older man’s eye.

“Go!” Dwenn yelled while trying to fight off the bats. 

Aelon hesitated but then turned around and tried to run back toward the village – only to be grabbed from behind and picked up. “No! Dwenn!” Aelon screamed, trying to struggle out of his taker’s arms. 

“No!” Dwenn yelled when he saw Aelon taken by another hooded figure. He fought and tried to run after, but the bats then pushed him down.  He screamed and struggled as the swarm tore his skin open, dressing the moss in his blood. Aelon screamed in terror when he saw the horrific scene happen. 

“Someone help! Please help us! Help!” Aelon struggled, kicked, and cried as the person behind him took him deeper into the forest. 

Falconer snapped open his eyes and picked up his head from the ground. He cried, sensing immense fear and distress. He shrieked in fright and stomped toward the entrance of the cave. 

Baleria picks up her head and growls at the younger dragon, preventing him from going any further. Falconer screamed back at her, groaning and chirping in distress. Low crumbles left Baleria as the two stared at each other. 

In the forest, Aelon yelled and tried to kick himself free from his captor’s arms, crying in fear, anger, and sorrow for Dwenn’s fate. The memory of Dwenn’s blood painting the ground and his screams of pain haunting his mind. 

“Stop moving around, brat!” A rough voice shouted in his ear, and he felt his hair pulled harshly. Aelon cried in pain from the sharp pain in his scalp. He then heard shrieks in the sky and looked up. 

His beloved dragon was flying above them, roaring and keeping his eyes on them. 

“Falconer!” Aelon called out. He felt hopeful but also worried since the sight of his dragon reminded him of his dream.

Falconer screamed back in return, trying to follow him and his captor. 

Aelon watched as his dragon flew above the trees. The forest was too dense for Falconer to fly down and try to attack since he could get caught by the branches. Aelon did not want to see his dragon to get injured, but neither did he want to end up where his captor was taking him. 

Aelon’s captor made twists and turns, trying to lose Falconer. Aelon felt sick from being carried and tossed around so much, but he felt comforted his dragon managed to keep up despite the trees keeping them apart. 

Falconer flew ahead and then swooped down after finding an opening and a chance to stop his rider’s captor. 

Aelon’s captor stopped in their tracks when Falconer flew in front of them, his claws ready to grab them, but then Aelon’s captor grabbed someone from their pouch and threw it right into Falconer’s face. 

Falconer shrieked by the sudden attack to his eyes and missed Aelon’s captor and Aelon by an inch. Aelon watched as his dragon crashed against some trees and fell to the ground. 

“No! Falconer!” Aelon yelled, trying to get himself free. The rough-voiced creature only held a tighter grip on the boy and continued the run, taking him away. 

Falconer chirped and croaked painfully after standing up from the crash. He groaned and tried to smudge off the dark matter from his eyes. The white dragon shrieked in anger and panic, unable to continue the chase and save his rider.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn ​ @kimnamnu @thatrandomidiot182