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cup-o-stars · 4 months ago

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Relativity Falls Lore Concept- The Oracle and Bill

The Oracle:

I was initially inspired by the Twitter user @SUwu159's depiction of the Oracle in their take on Relativity Falls, and made my own adaptation as I learned about her in canon.

(Assume she can change colors because I couldn't pick what I liked most)

This version of The Oracle isn't malicious per se, and does not desire the same conquest or chaos sought out by Bill. But she likes universes to be organized and quaint (or answers to another high power that demands it), and finds fulfillment in achieving these goals through any means necessary.

The Oracle and Dipper:

(Sorry if this dialogue tastes like a corndog in your mouth. I just needed to write a semi-resolution to Dipper's side of the relationship, ha.)

Getting into the real struggle with the Pines family. Dipper and Mabel don't fight and hold grudges like the Stans (that we've seen of), so my opinion is that they drifted apart in their late teens and twenties, both feeling pressured to be less attached at the hip. My current belief (though I'm very willing to rewrite this section) is that Mabel and Dipper both poured a lot of energy into pretty niche fields, and being very busy meant very short and rare windows to reach out. Both assumed the other was doing bigger and better things and felt self conscious / childish for wanting eachother's company.

I'm still considering Mabel's backstory, since I think she probably hit lower points than Dipper. You know. Starving artist, lol. But Dipper entered into paranormal investigation, pest control, etc. before his ghost + monster catching went far enough for his name to gain some notoriety. Hell, maybe Pacifica's family reached out to him to take care of "rats" that were actually ghosts, cementing his interest in Gravity Falls and giving him a window inter supernatural work.

Dipper was taken on as something of an apprentice to the Oracle 30ish years before canon as word of his good and dangerous deeds spread. However, what was at first a personal dream come true (saving lives with nerd magic) soon became a personal hell as the Oracle began to overwhelm Dipper with knowledge of various futures and universes where everything he cared about could be destroyed. He's always been over prepared and incredibly paranoid, and became obsessed with protecting the world by acting as a partner to the Oracle.

He ends up doing- or not doing- a lot of morally ambiguous things and gaining a lot of enemies. He is too ashamed to face his family- especially Mabel- with what he's done and burden them, giving the Oracle more to use against him to keep him working for her. Basically "you've already done all this and risked it all, there's nowhere to go if you stop now." Eventually this ends in her seeing him fit for her work and convincing him to hide out in and save other universes, which he gets trapped doing for the next three decades.

Little throw away idea: Pacifica could have been an investor or partner, but left as they uncovered secrets about the Northwest family. Maybe she wanted to undo something (debating making any of the Oracle's powers time related just because I hate time travel) or stop a current show of corruption, but Dipper had to stop her for the "greater good."

In the main universe, Mabel goes to Gravity Falls upon news of her brother's disappearance, searching for any loose end to trace back to him.

I love that in canon, Dipper is willing to do anything for Mabel, and Mabel gives it back. Dipper here spends all of his life keeping as many versions of her as safe as he can, and she spends all her life trying go seek him out- maybe even dropping a larger opportunity outside of Gravity Falls for her art and settling on business at the shack. Dipper wants Mabel alive, Mabel wants them both happy. I like the idea that it's Dipper and Mable vs. The Future but the future is a demon, alien thing.

Which leads me to...

Bill Cipher:

I'm actually gonna cover a couple versions of Bill I think are fitting for this AU, because I initially wasn't sure if I wanted him here at all.

Child Bill:

Pretty straight forward. Bill as a baby, child thing is tempting and this is the au where he'd exist. Personally though, I think Ford's friendship with Fidds would be more enriching to his growth, and Bill's personality is so close to Stan's they would likely be competing to fill very similiar roles. (If Bill behaves differenty as kid, I don't know about it.) Honestly, Bill is super similiar to Ford and Stan, and works better as a kind of foil or antagonist because of that (imo). I do find the mental image of Ford carrying Bill around funny. I do not enjoy human bill like, conceptually, so I'm probably never gonna design one as an adult or child, lol.

It would be cool to see a world where Bill didn't accidentally kill his parents though.

Bill - Reincarnated Original

Technically I guess they could all be reincarneted (especially baby Bill), but this version of Bill experienced and holds memories of the original canon events in GF. Beings like Bill and the Oracle can remember recent/soon approaching lives, and catch glimpses of more distant cycles as well.

What I like about Bill's recent role as an antagonist to Ford and Stan is that he constantly describes them in the terms of their worst traits, and sees them through the lens of the roles the world placed on them. In this AU, Bill is the epitome of the past (in this case a past life) coming back to bite the twins. He rattles their progress in communication as well as their sense of inner peace by bringing old Glass Shard Beach issues into Gravity Falls.

(Depicted here-> moments after Ford summons Bill using the same ritual as Gideon.)

The drawback to this is that it feels a lot like covering old ground.

Simply Bill:

This is pretty much just regular old Bill with the same fresh perspective as everyone else, and also the one I'm going with. He tried and failed to get Dipper's trust in the past and had to lay low at the arrival of the Oracle. Once they left, Bill targeted Mabel. I think it could be very interesting for Mabel and Bill to either have a fresh relationship wherein Bill is actively taking advantage of her desperation to find Dipper, or for Bill to be an old betrayal (not romantic, but not dissimilar to the opportunistic exes Stan and Ford have to be wary of and beat back under the rug regardless).

Either he shows himself to Mable early on, or decides that Gravity Falls is both Oracle-free and worth the time after either Ford or Mable summon him. Afterall, 30 years isn't much to him.

Maybe he exists in the background like he's always done, or the kids (being snoopy and disrespectful of Mabel's secrets) discover what Mabel's doing and run into him on their own.

Whether Bill is aware of the original series or not, I think he could be neat to stick in between Stan and Ford again for conflict. My favorite aspect about Relativity Falls is the prospects of the Stans having a larger support system and better tools to help themselves with. Beating Bill faster and better would be the ultimate testament to Mabel and Dipper's skills as functioning role models, even if Mabel is currently blinded by her focus on Dipper.

Stan and Ford will fight and they will make up, but this time maybe they can overcome it on their own.

I also think a good idea is having Ford and Stan's issues be completely Bill free (outside of like an episode or two's worth of relevance, unless he put them into a particularly stinging situation). It would feel fresher and also streamline the plot, lol.

Overview:

- Dipper is stuck travelling the multiverse with the Oracle and keeps himself sane by thinking of Mabel and protecting various versions of her.

- Mabel is investigating his disappearance in Gravity Falls and is working on a portal/portal equivalent with Bill to bring him back.

- The kids may or may not be aware of this.

Looking at the main series of events, I think it'd be neat go back to the apprenticeship conflict, where Ford could be approached by the Oracle (or something else that makes sense) with the promise of being a "hero," but knows better now because of Dipper and his experiences with Bill. It's kind of a more convoluted version of Ford's proposal to Dipper in canon, and they basically learn the same thing, lol. You can hang out with ghosts if you want, but demons are gonna get you. Maybe being a child with siblings is all you need.

(Stan could also be offered this, given the Oracle already knew he- or at least someone with his face- would beat Bill, but I think it's well established he isn't very interested in doing anything without family.)

All in all, things might be a bit crowded with two antagonists. But I do like the concept of Bill's arrival and subsequent chaos triggering Dipper and the Oracle's return to Mabel's dimension. I also love the idea of Bill, the Oracle, and some secret third thing all trying to pull the Pines family apart, and it's like a Man vs. God turned into a Family vs. Destiny thing, idk. Just trying to make it feel bigger.

Thank you for reading all this. It was a lot to draw. Next time I do anything for Relativity Falls, I'm gonna go back to the smaller things like Mabel bonding with the kids and stuff like that.

#fanart #drawing #gravity falls #relativity falls #relativity au #bill cipher #the oracle #oracle #dipper pines #mabel pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #i'm tired #long post #you don't have to read it #but pretty please look at the shitty drawings #they took my a long time collectively

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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 month ago

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🌷Pick a Picture: 💐🌷Blessings Coming to You in 2025🌷💐

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

🪷Hello! I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year! I hope all your wishes come true this new year. I also want to thank every person that support me and my page this year, that took a little bit of their time to check into my blog🫶 From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much! I hope we can navigate this new year together again🪷 with love, Kat 🧡💐

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💐Masterlist💐

🦚Pile 1: The Sun, The Empress, The Six of Cups.

This pile has a very vibrant and positive energy. If you've been waiting for a glow-up, this is your year! With The Sun, the blessings coming are of joy, success, and self-confidence. This card symbolizes sort of a new light in your life, both physically and emotionally. You may experience an external transformation that makes you feel more confident about yourself, it could be through changes in your style, self-care, or a new energy that will attract people. This glow-up will likely also allow you to connect more with your passions and what truly makes you happy. In 2025, you may feel very connected to your self and your needs. This card also suggests a new love, especially if you feel like you've been waiting for the right time to open your heart. There's a great chance of a healthy and good relationship, based on mutual respect and kindness. If you're looking for love, 2025 could be the year you find someone who values you the same way you value yourself. Something from the past comes back to bring a sense of happiness or reconciliation, i feel like you will be connecting with a past friend or family member. It could be the perfect time to close cycles and heal old emotional wounds.

🦚Song:

🌸Pile 2: Death, The Chariot, The Three of Wands.

This pile has a transformative and powerful energy. The Death card, speaks of a change that brings with it new beginnings, a transformation. This shift could be related to a major emotional release, where you let go of old patterns, toxic relationships, or limiting beliefs that no longer serve you. You're ready for a new version of yourself, and this process could be liberating and healing. Through this transformation, you're likely to feel stronger and clearer about what you really want in your life. Once you make that shift, you'll take full control of your destiny. You could experience a major boost in your professional or personal life, where obstacles that once seemed unattainable now fade away at your will. The Chariot also symbolizes travel or commuting, so you could have the opportunity to move to a new place or even start a job that involves travel or expansion. If you're looking for a new job, this could be the year where you finally manage to move forward and obtain a position that offers you greater opportunities and growth. In your professional life, this could be a year where doors open for you, especially if you've been working on your long-term goals. The Three of Wands can also mean that the efforts you've been making are finally starting to bear fruit. You may also receive support from others who believe in your vision.

🌸Song:

🐬Pile 3: The Lovers, The Two of Cups, The Nine of Cups.

This pile is completely focused on love, relationships, and emotional fulfillment. If you've been looking for a meaningful relationship or a life partner, 2025 could be the year that everything falls into place. The Lovers indicates that a great love is about to enter your life, and it will not only be romantic, but also deeply meaningful in general, in friendship and family connections too. You may find someone with whom you share an intense and genuine connection, a relationship that makes you feel complete and happy. This could be the kind of relationship where you both support each other, grow together, and understand each other without words. If you are already in a relationship, this is an excellent time to strengthen that bond, deepening the relationship and sharing open and loving communication.

I feel like 2025 will be a year in which not only are your romantic desires fulfilled, but you will also feel fulfilled and satisfied with your life in general. You may finally achieve that balance between your personal desires and your achievements, feeling like you are in the right place both in love and in your personal development.

🐬Song:

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goblinontour · 1 month ago

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For Him

it’s all for him

warnings: explicit love

word count: 6k

Love doesn’t even begin to cover it. Love — the all-encompassing, all-consuming, above-all-else feeling. Love doesn’t feel adequate. Love doesn’t even come near enough to describe it. To describe what this is, what you feel, what he is to you. Love is a shallow word, a placeholder, a stand-in for something bigger, something you can’t name and never will. Will not be able to.

It was there, though. Love was there. From the first moment you felt him. The moment you touched him, and you wished, in the quiet, echoing depths of your soul, that you’d met him earlier. Earlier, because there will never be enough of him.

And maybe if you’d had another year, you could have settled for love. Another month, and maybe it would have been enough to fill the spaces he’s carved out of you. Another day, and maybe you wouldn’t be here, aching, wanting, needing more. Another minute, and maybe the hollowness wouldn’t ache so much. Another second, and you might have been fuller.

Fuller of him.

Because every second he doesn’t fill feels empty — even when they’re crowded with the thoughts of him. Those haunting thoughts of him. They are heavy. They linger. They never leave. Because you won’t let them. Because you can’t bear to let them go, even when they so desperately fight to dissolve. To let him go, even in your mind, feels unbearable. Because you can’t miss any more of him. You won’t allow it. It would hurt more than hanging onto those desperate thoughts.

And the thought of goodbye? Nothing’s worse than saying goodbye. Saying goodbye to him, even the him you keep stored away in your head. It feels a little bit like dying.

It feels worse than dying.

You don’t miss him. You can’t. He’s here. His body beside you, his warmth in the bed. But you still long for him, as if there’s a piece of him somewhere else, just out of reach. A part of him you’ll never touch.

If love’s not enough — will never be enough — then why? Why do you love him? Why do you love him so much that it splits you open and spills you out to make more room for him? Why do you love him when it hurts more often than it doesn’t?

But then, he stirs. A faint, lazy shift beside you, and your heart lurches toward him. His hair is mussed, dark locks curling over his forehead, and you can feel the warmth of his skin before you even touch it. His breathing slows, evens, and your chest tightens. You lean in, closer than close, lips grazing the shell of his ear.

There is nothing to be afraid of.

“I love you.”

The words come quiet, soft. You whisper them because saying them too loudly would only make it feel like acknowledging their insufficiency. Like shining a light on the void that still exists, even in love. So you keep them quiet and hope — hope — hope that they’re enough. At least for him. Enough for him to understand a fraction of what you mean. Of what it truly is.

Because it’s more than love. It’s greater than affection. Beyond. Beyond the hugs and beyond the words or the way you hold him. More. More than the way he holds you back, like the two of you are all that’s keeping the world from breaking apart. Because you’d fall apart without each other there. Holding it all together, together. Yourselves and the other.

“I think you’re supposed to say, ‘Happy Birthday.’” he murmurs, his voice slow and drowsy, still thick with sleep even though the sun hangs high in the sky.

Almost noon.

You glance up at him, his eyelids heavy, his lips curling into the faintest trace of a smile. The kind of smile that’s more reflex than effort, born out of his teasing rather than true amusement.

He doesn’t sleep well at night. He never has. He calls it wasting time, lying awake in the dark, restless, as if sleep itself is a thief robbing him of moments he’ll never get back. Time. Precious time. He treats it like gold dust, hoarded and spent with care, but never wasted.

And yet, come morning — or afternoon — he always regrets it. Always drags himself out of bed with a sigh, muttering about the hours he’s lost. Same guilt, same cycle. A war between the time he holds too tightly and the time that slips away.

Precious, precious time.

You smile faintly against his skin. “I don’t want to remind you you’re getting old.”

“You don’t want to remind yourself.” he corrects, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk. He’s always right, even when you don’t want him to be. Especially when you don’t want him to be. He’s always right.

“It’s okay, little love.” he says, and his voice wraps around you like a blanket never could, soft and warm but never suffocating. “I don’t mind it. But don’t worry too much. You’re making it sound like I’m eighty.”

“Sorry.” you whisper, and you don’t know why you’re apologising, but you do it anyway. You shift closer, nuzzling into his chest, inhaling the faint, musky warmth of him. Now that he’s awake, you don’t have to be so careful. No tiptoeing so as not to disturb. You can disturb him now, without feeling as guilty. He won’t mind.

“I love you too, just so you know.” he says, his voice soft, almost shy.

You press your ear to his chest, to feel, and listen, and then feel some more. His skin is warm and sticky, still, from sleep. Sticky enough that your ear almost gets suctioned on there and you can hear the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your cheek more than his voice.

Thumping.

B-dum. B-dum. B-dum.

“I know.” you say. Barely audible. You don’t want to risk drowning out that sound. Of his heartbeat. You close your eyes and let it fill you, every hollow, aching part of you.

B-dum. B-dum. B-dum.

Time feels cruel. You don’t say it, but you feel it. Time that keeps slipping through your fingers, dragging you both forward. But for now, there’s this.

For now, it’s enough.

It has to be.

“I didn’t get you anything.” you whisper again, even quieter this time, as though saying it aloud might further cement your failure.

Your breath feels shallow, as though the confession has siphoned all the air from your lungs. You can feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, his warmth enveloping you, but it’s not enough to quiet the churn of guilt in your stomach. Your hands fidget against the hollow in the middle, that perfect slope that you imagine deepens every time you lay on it, tracing patterns in the heat of his skin.

You didn’t. You didn’t get him anything because nothing felt like enough. If love wasn’t enough, how could a thing — a mere object, bought and wrapped and handed over — ever suffice? How could you trust that a trinket, something so tangible and small and fleeting, could carry the weight of everything you wanted him to know? What you needed him to feel? Everything you couldn’t say. If love wasn’t enough, how could you put your faith in anything else?

If love wasn’t enough, how could anything be?

“That’s fine.” he says. He’s impressively calm, unbothered, compared to your chronic restlessness. His fingers brush over your arm in slow, lazy strokes, as if to soothe you. He shifts slightly beneath you, adjusting his arm around your back. His fingertips trail lightly against your spine.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

But his reassurance doesn’t land. You can’t stop. You can’t stop the words from spilling out, your voice trembling, faster now, desperate to explain, disjointed and raw. “I just-” You swallow hard. Your throat tightens. You press your cheek harder against his chest. “You already have it all. I didn’t know what to get you that you couldn’t just…get yourself. And I- I ran out of time…time. I thought about it too long, and then I woke up today, and it was too late.”

“Sweetie…”

Your hands press against him, fingers curling slightly, clinging to the safety of his presence. You can’t look at him. You can’t risk it. You can’t risk seeing the disappointment that might linger in his eyes. The possibility of it burning in there would undo you completely, and you’re already teetering on the edge.

You keep your gaze fixed on his collarbone, unable to look up.

You can’t risk it.

“Sweetie, stop.” he says. He’s firm. The words slice through your spiralling thoughts.

You hear the barely there hiss of his breath, a flicker of frustration. And in that moment, your chest tightens, and the guilt surges forward. You fucked up. He exhales a soft huff that brushes against the crown of your head. You feel the faintest shift in his chest. You’ve said too much, and now you’ve ruined something.

Everything.

But then his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. He wraps himself around you like armor. Firm, his hands warm against your back, his hold so secure that it feels like the world outside of him doesn’t exist. He wraps himself around you so completely. The kind of embrace that makes you feel small and safe, protected in a way that nothing else does.

He holds you tighter, tighter still, until the edges of you blur into him. He holds you so tightly you know you’d have to fight to escape. Until you know that escape is impossible.

Not that you’d ever try. You’d never want to.

“Sorry.” you murmur against his chest.

“No.” he says, sharp and immediate with an insistence that leaves no room for doubt. His hands move, one slipping up to the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, the other splaying wide across your back. “No, no. You were right.” His voice softens and drops into something gentler.

You hesitate, confused, and your body tenses slightly against him. He must feel it, because his hand on your back begins to move in slow, soothing circles, the friction of his palm against your shirt creating a faint warmth.

“I have everything.” he continues.

He pauses, and the silence stretches out. And again, all you can hear is the steady thrum of his heart beneath your ear.

Beating.

B-dum. B-dum. B-dum.

The rhythmic pulse of life. It’s almost enough to drown out the self-doubt still clinging to you.

“Right ‘ere.” he finally says, his voice breaking just slightly on the words.

And then he inhales, so deep you feel the tremor in him, the slow expansion of his chest pressing into yours, the way he seems to pull the air in as if it might just be the thing holding him together. He holds it in. Exhales slowly. Like he’s releasing something, letting it go into the space between you.

“I have you ‘ere.” he whispers. “That’s enough.”

You don’t move. You don’t speak. You just lie there, your body pressed against his, your hands gripping him. His words feel warmer and heavier than his body, sinking into your skin, and for the first time in hours — maybe days — it begins to ease.

Slowly, cautiously, you lift your head. You finally look up at him, chin resting on his chest — right in that special spot. When your eyes finally meet his, you see nothing but softness. There’s no disappointment there. No frustration. Just him. Just Alex, looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

And for a moment, the ache eases.

You search his face, your gaze tracing the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the messy curls that fall across his forehead. He doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink. He just watches you, patient and steady, like he’s willing you to understand.

You do.

You let yourself believe him.

For a moment, you let yourself believe that you are enough.

So you watch.

You look, and you study, and you wish — desperately — that your eyes were fitted with tiny microscopes so you wouldn’t miss a thing. You don’t want to miss a thing. You want to memorise every detail, every imperfection, every fleeting expression that might escape you if you look away too soon.

Your gaze drifts to the corners of his eyes, to the faint wrinkles that fan out like delicate etchings. You start counting them, one by one, as you always do, wondering if there are more than last year, or even yesterday. You always count, and yet you never remember the last number.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Your eyes move to his forehead, and you study the lines there, the ones that seem a little deeper than they used to. They’re there constantly now, carved into his skin like tiny scars from years of raising his eyebrows just so. He says it’s to soften his expression, to make himself look less unapproachable to the outside world.

You think it’s ridiculous.

You’ve told him that before — how silly he looks when he does it, like he’s trying to imitate some wide-eyed, overly eager version of himself. You’ve teased him for it, and he’s laughed, but still, he does it.

He says his face falls weird when he’s neutral, and this, apparently, is the fix. You think it’s unnecessary. You like his face as it is — neutral, serious, tired, upset. Whatever he is, it’s fine.

Because it’s him.

It’s him, and it’s real, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

Your hand moves instinctively, your fingertips brushing against the faint lines there, on his forehead. You trace them gently, lightly, and harder as you’re trying to memorise their shape. He doesn’t flinch or pull away. He just watches you, patient as ever, his dark eyes soft and steady, as always.

“You’re staring again.” he says. There’s no real reproach in it. He doesn’t mind the spotlight when that spotlight is you.

“I know.” you murmur, not bothering to deny it.

He raises an eyebrow slightly, and there’s that look again — that playful tilt of his lips, the one that’s almost imperceptible, like he’s fighting the urge to smile.

“Am I passing inspection?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

You huff out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You always do.”

His expression softens further, the teasing edge fading. His hand comes up to rest over yours, his fingers curling gently around your wrist, holding you there against him.

“You don’t have to, you know.” he says quietly.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Look so hard. It’s like…like you’re afraid I’ll disappear if you don’t.”

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Your hand stills against his forehead, and your breath hitches slightly, your chest tightening.

“I just…” you start, your voice trailing off as you search for the right words. “I just don’t want to miss anything.”

“You won’t.” he says simply, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

You nod, but that ache in your chest doesn’t fully subside. Because time doesn’t care about promises, and no matter how tightly you hold on, it always finds a way to slip through your fingers.

“You’re struggling to breathe.” he announces, his steady voice pulling you back to yourself.

You hadn’t noticed until now, hadn’t realised how shallow your breaths had become, how your lungs felt heavy, like they were carrying too much. The moment he says it, the awareness hits you — harder and harder, a wave crashing over you, dragging you under.

Your chest tightens, and the sting in your nose starts to surface, hot and sharp. Your eyes feel like they’re being pressed from the inside, the pressure swelling until you can’t ignore it anymore.

“Don’t cry, my baby.” he whispers, a plea as much as an attempt at comfort.

But it’s too late.

The cracks in you deepen, widening into fissures that can’t be held together anymore. The tears come, spilling over before you can stop them, before you can even think to try.

He tries. He always tries.

He wipes at your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, murmuring soft reassurances, holding you closer, tighter, like he can somehow stop the flow through sheer force of will.

But it doesn’t work. He knows it won’t work.

So, finally, he lets it happen. He lets you break, lets the tears fall freely, lets the overwhelming weight of it all pour out of you. Because it’s too much.

It’s too much love, too little time.

And when love feels like this, when it swells so big it aches, clothing is just another barrier. A suggestion, for that reason, never an imposition.

He breaks it down with clumsy hands, fumbling with the neckline of your shirt, pulling it over your head in a movement that’s more desperate than it could ever be classed as graceful. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t hesitate, just keeps going until there’s nothing between you but skin.

The moment you feel him — him — warm and solid, the familiar press of his chest against yours — it hurts a little less.

You press yourself against him, a wet cheek against his shoulder, hands clutching at his back because you’re still afraid he might slip away. His arms wrap around you again, this time even tighter, to the point it almost hurts. It hurts. But not as much as not having him hold you. His hands spread across your bare skin like he’s trying to hold you together, to keep the fissures from splitting into something irreparable.

He doesn’t speak now. There’s nothing left to say. He just holds you, lets you cry into him, lets the warmth of his body seep into yours, lets the moment stretch out until the edges of your pain start to dull.

And in his silence, you feel it. The unspoken truth. The promise that doesn’t need words.

The fissures won’t turn into holes. Not with him here. Not with the way he holds you, the way he keeps you from falling apart completely.

You can breathe again.

And you can breathe him in again.

Ah, there it is. That sweetness. It clings to him, a scent that feels like home. It soothes. It’s calming you.

But now…now, he’s restless.

You feel it first in the subtle fidgeting of his fingers against your skin, then in the shifting of his limbs, the tightening and untightening of muscles as he tries — and fails — to settle. The closeness that was comforting moments ago has turned into a puzzle, the edges too tight, the pieces overlapping awkwardly.

“Oh.” you gasp softly. He’s restless all over, his body betraying him.

“Sorry, girl.” he mumbles, his voice tinged with embarrassment. His hands move hesitantly, unsure whether to pull you closer or let you go. “I didn’t mean to. It- it’s just… you’re naked. Almost. It just…”

“It’s…” you start, but you trail off.

“I’m sorry.” he repeats, firmer this time, like he needs you to believe him.

Why would he be sorry?

It’s only…natural.

“Who are you?” you ask suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

He blinks, startled, but before he can answer, you lean in again, pressing a kiss to the dip in his collarbone.

“Just me.” he says with a nervous giggle. His cheeks flush, the color creeping up his neck, and you feel his chest rise sharply beneath your palms.

He’s so fucking cute when he’s like this.

“I don’t know you.” you tease.

You’re purring.

Up now, your knees bracketing his sides, your hands splayed across his chest. His breathing quickens further, his flush deepening as he looks up at you. From his point of view, there’s something there. A spark, a shift, something playful. But your eyes are still red, rimmed with the remnants of tears.

And yet, he can’t help it.

Not when you’re like this, pressing up against him, leaning over him, commanding his attention so effortlessly. His eyes flicker over you, wide and unblinking, like headlights catching something fragile in the dark. He knows he should look away, should steady himself, but he can’t.

He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

A palm reaches out, hesitant at first, then bold. It cups you, warm and engulfing, his fingers splaying instinctively, mapping every inch of you. The other joins.

“Security! Security!” you call out dramatically, a breathless laughter.

The corners of your eyes crunch as you smile, betraying any hint of real fear. The peaks of your skin, hot beneath his squeezing fingertips, send a rush of heat between you both, and you feel his hand falter for a split second before tightening its hold.

The act of innocence.

“I don’t mean to…” he says, his voice dipping low, a rasp threading through his words. He tilts his head back against the pillow, his eyes half-lidded, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m just a tortured artist, baby.”

“Yeah?” you challenge, shifting your hips, enough to feel the friction between you both.

“Yeah.” he breathes.

Hips roll.

Heat intensifies.

The wetness that once blurred your vision now pools low, deep, undeniable. It seeps into the space between you, pulling you both into its gravity.

He groans softly. And…God! It’s so beautiful…his grip on you tightening as his body moves in sync with yours. His gaze never leaves you, even as his lips part, his breath hitching with every shift, every roll, every press of your skin against his.

You smile, a wicked, knowing smile, and lean down until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Tortured?” you murmur.

“Always.” he whispers, his words swallowed by the heat between you as his hands guide you closer, closer, until there’s no space left at all.

“Is that solely a bad thing?”

It strikes him harder than you intended. His body stills, his breath catching as he processes what you’ve just said. He doesn’t answer right away, his silence stretching out, heavy and charged, while you wait.

You’re hesitant in your approach, your fingers hovering, dancing lightly across his skin.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A rhythm that mirrors the beat of your heart. You’re waiting, always waiting, for his sign.

And then it comes.

A nod. Another squeeze of his hands on your breasts.

Green light.

You move, reaching in just barely, your fingers brushing against the warmth of him. He’s sticky already.

“I think��that…suffering is necessary.” he says, his voice uneven, halting. His legs twitch beneath you, begging to squeeze together, to curl inward, but he can’t. You’re holding him down without even trying, just by being there, your weight and presence enough to pin him in place.

“In order to- to access the high levels of feeling- fuck-” His voice cuts off, his words swallowed by a sharp intake of breath.

He can’t.

His right hand quits its job of squeezing, abandoning your chest to join yours below. His fingers wrap around yours, warm and insistent, guiding you, begging you, leading you.

“Of love.” he finally concludes, his voice trembling.

Love.

It echoes in your mind, that single word reverberating.

“Profound…” you start, leaving the word open, unfinished, unsure of how to follow it.

Your hips shift, your body moving instinctively, rubbing yourself against his thigh in time with the rhythm of your holding hands. The sensation sends sparks shooting through you, but your focus stays on him, on the way his breath hitches, on the way his fingers grip yours tighter.

He’s soft there, on his thighs. The skin is plush and fluffy in a way he rarely shows to anyone but you. It’s intimate, that softness, a vulnerability he keeps hidden from the world but offers to you without hesitation.

“…ness.” he completes.

Profoundness.

It feels bigger than the moment, bigger than the two of you, and yet it’s tethered here, grounded in the heat and closeness of your bodies.

His hand tightens over yours, guiding you with more urgency now, his movements less controlled, more desperate. His eyes lock on yours, wide and glistening, and you can see everything in them — his need, his fear, his devotion.

And love. Always love.

You lean forward, lips brushing against his ear, and whisper, “Show me?”

A command, a plea, a promise all wrapped into one. And he does.

“I can count this as my present…if it makes you feel better.”

His fingers toy with the bow on your panties, that delicate little detail that always seems to fuck with his head. It’s so small, so dainty, so perfectly out of place between the rough pads of his fingertips. His hands aren’t particularly big, but somehow, you make them feel enormous. You make him feel enormous.

Almost…wrong.

You nod, your breath catching, and the sight of you offering yourself like that — open, willing, waiting — pulls a groan from deep in his chest.

“God…” he breathes, the word dragged out.

The way you give yourself to him. Every time. All the time. It feels so wrong.

It feels like the only thing that’s ever been right.

His hand dips lower, and he rubs the tip of himself over the fabric that clings to you, already damp, already sticking to every curve and dip of your shape. Now it sticks to him too, and the friction of it, the teasing pressure, makes his jaw clench.

You shiver, your body trembles as you try to hold yourself steady, but it’s too much.

And yet, not enough.

Your legs weaken, and you drop back down onto him, pressing yourself against his lap with a need that borders on desperation. The heat of him, the solidity, the sheer realness of him, makes your breath stutter.

It’s too much-

It’s not enough.

He exhales sharply, his hands flying to your hips to hold you steady, to keep you from sliding away, but his grip isn’t tight enough to stop you from moving. It never is. You grind against him, the thin barrier of fabric doing nothing to dull the sensation, and his head falls back against the pillow with a muffled curse.

“Fuck, baby…” His voice is strained now, thick with the weight of everything he feels but can’t quite say.

The bow beneath his fingertips feels almost absurd in contrast to the heat between you, but it grounds him somehow. He tugs at it gently, watching it stretch and twist, and the sight of it makes his head spin. It’s delicate, almost too delicate.

Like you.

He knows better. You aren’t fragile. You just let him treat you like you are. It ruins him every time.

You both need more.

His hand slips lower, finding the edge of the fabric, and with a slow movement, he pushes it to the side. The wetness there makes him shiver, his breath catching as he lets his fingers toy with you for a moment, drawing soft, stuttering sounds from your lips.

And then, finally, he pushes himself in.

Slowly.

You wince, your body tensing, and the ache is back. That familiar, consuming ache — the one that feels like it starts in your chest and radiates outward, like it’s eating you alive.

The closest of closeness.

The most you could possibly get.

And you still feel so utterly empty.

He notices, of course he notices. He always notices.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s ‘kay…shhh.” he whispers, like he’s trying to soothe a wild animal — you feel like one. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pressing you gently into the curve of his neck. “I don’t like to think of people…of…I don’t want to think of you suffering. But then you do.”

His hips roll, slow and measured, and the stretch of him inside you makes your breath hitch. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and you don’t know how to reconcile the two.

“You breathe at such a rate that you’re bound to suffer, sweetie.” he murmurs, his words almost lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“I…I don’t know if it’s pain or pleasure.” you choke out, your voice muffled against his shoulder. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, and you sniffle, clinging to him, to the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

His pace is so slow, so tender, that it hurts in its kindness. Every thrust feels like a question, every withdrawal like an apology.

“Reality is pain,” he says, his voice breaking slightly, “but we bring out the pleasure, in each other, with each other.”

You can feel it in the way his hands roam your body, always searching, always reassuring. But even as he speaks, you can tell he’s fighting his own demons. His mind flickers through the darker corners of himself, the parts he tries to keep hidden. He wonders if he’s hurting you more than helping you, if his presence in your life is a blessing or a curse.

You, meanwhile, can’t stop cataloging him.

The way his jaw clenches and unclenches with every thrust. The beads of sweat gathering at his temple. The soft, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice when he whispers your name.

You wonder if he feels it too — that emptiness. If he’s trying to fill it the same way you are, with this act, with this closeness.

You wonder if it’s working for him.

Because for you, it’s both too much and not enough.

You press your lips to his shoulder, kissing the damp skin there, tasting salt of sweat and tears, and heat, and him.

“Do you feel it?”

His movements slow even further, his body stilling for a moment.

“I feel everything.” he finally says. His hands tighten on you, pulling you closer, as if that’s even possible. “You make me feel everything.”

So you kept offering yourself to him. Because it was the only thing that made sense. Because in those moments, when words failed him, when he avoided eye contact like the answers were buried somewhere else, he’d offer you the deeper meaning of his touch.

He was avoidant, yes. Could be classed an asshole, if you wanted to simplify it. He wouldn’t talk. Not too often, not too much.

Unless he did.

When he thought you needed it so desperately that you wouldn’t make it out without the explicitness, without the explanations. He’d relent. He’d offer you a sliver of his mind, a glimpse into that labyrinth of thoughts he kept so well-guarded.

And sometimes, those words would only make it worse.

It’s hard to overstate. The impact he had.

Has.

The chokehold.

“Tighter.” Your voice is a rasp, your breath already unsteady, but you say it anyway. His hand rests on your throat, not pressing yet, just holding, and you arch into the weight of it. “Tighter.”

His gaze sharpens. There’s something unreadable in his eyes. A pause. A moment of hesitation. Then his grip tightens, and the air between you seems to still.

He turns pain into something beautiful.

“Take me.” you whisper, your voice a low, almost imperceptible plead. His fingers begin to move.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Against your neck, as if testing the rhythm of your pulse.

Intuitive. Always.

Then he takes.

His free hand finds your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip until your mouth falls open. He’s watching you, watching the way your body responds to him, the way your chest rises and falls in its shallowness.

Knuckles knock against your teeth as he slides his fingers inside, pads pressing against your tastebuds, filling the space until you’re choking on him. Nails scrape against the back of your throat, and you gag, tears springing to your eyes.

Impactful.

“Good girl.” he murmurs. Like velvet over steel. The praise is quiet, but it ignites something primal in you. You whimper around his fingers, and he groans, barely holding himself together.

He watches the tears spill over, watches the way your lips stretch around him, and something in him snaps. His hand tightens further on your throat, cutting off just enough air to make you feel weightless. To make you float in that space between pleasure and pain. Until you can’t tell them apart. Until you can’t settle on either one.

You grab at his wrist, not to pull him away but to anchor yourself to him. Because…he’s everything. Your air, your gravity, your entire world condensed into the roughness of his touch and the way he looks at you.

“Breathe, baby.” he says. His hand loosens slightly, giving you just enough to draw in a shaky breath around his fingers. “I’ve got you. Always.”

You believe him.

You have to.

He is your only salvation from this pain. The doer and undoer. Cause and effect. The wound and the salve.

And the aura of him remains, remains…

Remains.

“Oh-”

“Fuck-”

The words tear from both of you in unison. A tangled cry. You’re unravelling together. And it feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him. And yet…it still isn’t enough.

His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers pressing into your flesh. He thrusts deep, every movement a combination of tenderness and force, as though he’s pouring everything he can into you, trying to fill the empty spaces you both know he never fully can.

At this moment, it feels like he could.

He drags against every nerve inside you, heavy and thick, and you feel the way he throbs, the heat of him building, threatening to spill over. It’s overwhelming, the way he stretches you, the way every inch of him feels. He moves with an unsteady rhythm now, hips stuttering, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

You’re both trembling. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins.

“Shit…” he gasps, voice strained, breaking, as his pace falters. He’s so deep now, the tip of him brushing places that make you cry out.

Again. And again. And again.

That make your body tighten around him, pulling him even closer. It’s messy now, desperate. He’s losing himself inside you.

“Fuck, baby, I-” His voice catches, and then he’s gone.

You feel him twitch inside you, sharp and insistent, and then he’s spilling, warmth flooding you in waves. It’s a slow, pulsating release, and you feel every surge of it, every shudder that wracks his body as he empties himself into you. He presses as deep as he can go, burying himself completely, as if he could carve a place for himself inside you, as if he could leave a part of himself that will never fade.

He’s soothing from the inside. A plea for forgiveness he can’t bring himself to ask for aloud. He gives you little pieces of himself — small, fragmented traces of his love, his essence, his everything.

And it’s insufficient.

It will always be insufficient for the vastness of your longing, for the endless craving that gnaws at the edges of your soul. He feels it too. You can tell by the way his hands tighten on your waist, by the way his forehead presses against yours, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together.

He knows.

He can’t help but feel that way, that what he gives you will never be enough. But what more can he offer than this? Than himself?

The peak caves slowly, unbearably, and it’s not just pleasure — it’s everything. It’s love and desperation and grief for the moments that slip through your fingers.

It’s heartbreaking.

So you smile.

You don’t mean to do it. You don’t even realise you’re doing it until you see the reflection of it in his eyes. But it’s there — a soft, almost involuntary curve of your lips that speaks to something deeper than words.

You don’t have to keep smiling.

But you do.

Because this is the best thing.

The best he can give you. The best you can take. The best the two of you can be in a world that feels like it’s always working against you.

And when the peak finally crests, when your body shatters around him, you don’t stop smiling.

Even as the tears spill over. Even as the ache in your chest sharpens. Even as the world starts to creep back in, threatening to pull him away from you.

You smile, because for this fleeting, fragile moment, he’s yours…

Yours. Yours. Yours.

…Completely.

He gives you a great desire to love.

a/n: Happy Birthday, Al.

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x oc #alex turner angst #alex turner fluff #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #goblinontour

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admiringlove · 4 months ago

Text

falling stars. the sixth part of @angstober is here! i really loved writing this one, ugh. anyways, happy reading <3 masterlist of the event can be found here.

being immortal was both a blessing and a curse.

zhongli had always been the god of contracts. it was the essence of his existence, a purpose etched into the very marrow of his being. he wasn’t always the composed, reserved man who carried the weight of centuries with quiet dignity, his gaze heavy with the nostalgia of eras long past. no, once, he had been sharp and unyielding—a man who lived and breathed duty. his loyalty to liyue was unshakable. liyue came first. always.

duty was his creed, his unwavering religion. the god of stone and earth, as immovable as the mountains he shaped. whenever his focus wavered, that mantra echoed in his mind: liyue comes first. duty comes first. it was an unrelenting rhythm that kept his soul in check.

but then, somehow, you happened.

you were the anomaly, the gentle rain that smoothed his jagged edges. he never quite understood how you slipped past the walls he’d spent millennia building. the god of contracts, once as steadfast as the stone he commanded, found himself softened—worn down not by time but by your presence. you were like the tide, subtle yet persistent, shaping him with a patience he didn’t know could exist. his rigid mountains melted into quiet hills, his soul drenched in the warmth of your laughter, the soft glow of fireworks, and a nostalgia he had never allowed himself to feel.

and now, for the first time, zhongli questioned where duty ended and where you began. you weren’t just a fleeting moment in his never-ending timeline. no, you were something far greater. you held his entire existence in your hands, like magic woven into your fingertips. you weren’t just his past��you were his present, his future, everything all at once.

and he hates that he’s slowly forgetting you. hates that he's still here, living, while it’s been eons since he last heard your voice, since the scent of you clung to his memory.

your scent. it was the first to fade, slipping through his grasp as the years stretched on. he remembers fragments—how you always smelled of the river, like the waters of qingce village clung to you. you loved the water, always said it felt like home. he’d once joked that you should have been born in fontaine, where the tides ruled, but you loved him long before you knew who he truly was.

you loved your god, and your devotion to rex lapis was so pure, so sacred, that it unsettled even him. most revered him with fear, with trembling awe, but you—no, you loved him as effortlessly as breathing. it's how he'd found you, standing before his statue, lighting incense in the stillness of prayer. he approached as zhongli, hands behind his back, watching as you offered your quiet supplications.

"did you know he's the eldest of the seven?" he murmured, his gaze lifting to the likeness of himself carved in stone. there was something serene in your posture, a calmness that baffled him. most would pray with reverence or dread, but you. you smiled softly as you waved the incense in the air, placing it at the statue’s base.

"everyone knows he's the eldest," you replied, casting him a sideways glance, "but most people don’t realize that barbatos is the second eldest."

zhongli blinked, a flicker of surprise playing at his lips. it was true—his old friend, the carefree anemo god, was the second oldest, though few knew this because of barbatos’ lighthearted demeanor.

"you seem well-versed in the ways of the gods," he remarked, curiosity piqued as he watched you. you chuckled, the sound light and warm. "my father’s a priest. i suppose that’s why. but i think rex lapis is different from the others."

zhongli’s interest deepened. he tilted his head. "how so?"

"you’ll laugh if i tell you," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips before you looked back at the statue, "but i think he’s a romantic. being the eldest must come with so much responsibility. i imagine he’s tired, weary from the weight of it all. from all of us."

zhongli frowned, something in your words striking a strange chord within him. "but that is his duty, is it not?" he asked, his brow furrowing, unsettled by the way your insight crawled beneath his skin.

you simply shook your head, smiling to yourself. "duty and purpose don’t always align, you know. rex lapis is a magnificent god, strong and wise. but i like to think he’s also present in the small moments, like an old friend. sometimes, i talk to him about my day."

zhongli’s gaze sharpened, a mix of amusement and suspicion in his eyes. "do you now?" he asked, voice low. "then perhaps he’s listening."

"if only," you laughed softly, the sound like wind brushing through leaves. "gods are mysterious creatures. i doubt they have the time to listen to a priest’s child ramble on about their mundane life."

if only you had known how closely he listened, how deeply your words had taken root within him, like seeds planted in the fertile soil of his heart. you were like water—gentle yet unyielding—flowing into the spaces between his thoughts, shaping him without him even realizing. after that day, you became something he could never quite shake, lingering like the soft glow of a lantern after dark—an ever-present warmth, like coming home after centuries spent wandering.

he finds you again, unexpectedly, sitting alone by the harbor in liyue city. there’s a heaviness to your expression, your brow furrowed as your eyes gaze out at the endless stretch of the sea, as if seeking solace in its waves. the wind tugs at your hair, carrying the salt of the ocean in the air, and you sigh—a quiet, resigned sound that makes something tighten in his chest. he watches you for a moment longer before making his way toward you.

"it’s you," he murmurs, his voice soft as the breeze, "from qingce village."

your head lifts slowly, and at first, your gaze holds no recognition, dulled by the weight of your troubles. but then, your eyes widen, lighting up with sudden relief. "you! by rex lapis, am i glad to see you."

his amber eyes, with their distinct diamond-shaped pupils, flicker in surprise. he hadn’t expected that reaction. you press on, your words tumbling out with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "this city is impossible. my father sent me here to assist a doctor with medicinal herbs, but i’m completely lost. and not one statue of morax inside the city! not one! where am i supposed to go every morning to pray?"

a small chuckle escapes him, low and warm, and he tilts his head slightly. "that is true. the nearest statue is just beyond the city’s borders, but it can be a dangerous journey. perhaps... you could join me for tea each morning instead. madame ping brews the finest oolong, and we often sit together in the high grounds before i start my day. you might even find your doctor there."

"really?" your face lights up, like the skies of liyue igniting during lantern rite, a spark of hope rekindled in your eyes. "you’d do that for me? include me in your routine, even though you barely know me?"

he smiles softly, settling onto the bench beside you. "you’re fond of rex lapis, aren’t you? so is madame ping. and so am i. i believe you’d make for good company."

"that’s... incredibly kind of you," you murmur, fingers loosening their tight grip on the straps of your bag, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice. "i never got your name, though."

he turns to face you, his gaze steady, the sunlight catching the red liner beneath his amber eyes, making them glow with a soft, almost ethereal light. "zhongli," he replies, watching you carefully, as though gauging your reaction.

you take in a slow breath, your eyes widening slightly as you look at him, something shifting in the air between you, fragile and significant all at once. "you know," you say, your voice a little softer now, "zhongli, you have a very familiar face."

he chuckles, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the quiet of the harbor. "do i, now?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

and so, the friendship between you and, unbeknownst to you, rex lapis began. you spoke of him in the way a devout follower might speak of their deity, yet with a warmth, a familiarity, that zhongli couldn’t quite grasp. it was as if, in your heart, rex lapis was not a distant god ruling from on high, but a cherished friend; someone you could confide in without fear. and that comforted him in a way nothing else had. for once, someone revered him not out of awe or terror, but out of love. someone placed rex lapis on a pedestal for reasons beyond his power, beyond his duty. simply because they cared for him, deeply, genuinely.

perhaps that was why fate had woven your paths together. to teach him that he was more than his role, more than the weight of his eternal duty. to remind him that his purpose did not need to be solely bound to protecting liyue until the end of time. there could be more—there was more.

"i don’t think i can love anyone as much as i love the god of geo," you once confessed, after finally mastering the confusing streets of liyue harbor. the two of you were descending the stone steps after your usual morning tea with auntie ping—though now, you had grown fond enough of her to call her that. zhongli’s brow raised at your words, his steps slowing to match your pace, for you were always a little slower, always taking your time. "what do you mean by that?"

"i don’t know," you sighed, your gaze flickering to the distant horizon, "i have this... strange relationship with rex lapis. i love him. i idolize him. i think of him as an old friend, someone i can share my burdens with. but i also feel that... if someone were to love me, it would be hard for me to return the same intensity. i think it would pale in comparison to the way i love him." your voice trailed off, quieter, more uncertain. "it’s strange. like i said, a strange feeling to have. i don’t even know why i’m telling you this."

zhongli’s eyes softened as he watched you, his lips curving into a gentle, knowing smile. "i believe the word you’re searching for is sacred," he said quietly.

you blinked, surprised by his response, and for a brief moment, you narrowed your eyes at him as if trying to figure something out. because that familiar feeling tugged at you again—like a jigsaw falling into place, though you couldn’t quite see the whole picture yet. the way he smiled at you, the way he seemed to understand. it made your heart skip, just a little.

and, without realizing it, you began to favor a certain funeral parlor consultant over the god you once idolized.

he made you smile wider than you ever had, more than you ever did for rex lapis. zhongli had quietly woven himself into the fabric of your life, so seamlessly that it left you baffled, wondering when it all began. your days started to revolve around him—sometimes even your nights. he would tell you stories of liyue’s ancient history as if he had witnessed every moment himself, painting vivid pictures of a time long past. it left you in awe, admiring him more with every tale, until the realization struck like a wave crashing against the shore.

you had come to love zhongli more than rex lapis.

the thought gripped you with quiet terror. the way his eyes would crinkle with a knowing smile, the way his soft chuckles echoed in the silence after you mentioned your god—it all made your heart stumble, beat after beat. he was hiding something, you knew it. and it wasn’t just you who noticed. even auntie ping, with her ageless wisdom, seemed in on the secret. zhongli had once called her an old friend, but just how old, you couldn’t quite tell.

"how did you meet auntie ping?" you asked one evening, crossing the bridge near the funeral parlor, heading towards dinner. he paused, a flicker of hesitation passing through his amber eyes. "i don’t quite remember anymore," he said quietly, "we’ve simply been friends for a very long time. there was another once, but... she’s gone now. her name was guizhong."

"was she beautiful?" the question left your lips before you could stop yourself. "was she clever?"

his soft laugh carried through the evening air. "immensely," he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "we miss her, every now and then."

"did she..." your voice faltered as you stopped in your tracks. "did she pass away?"

he nodded, a touch of sadness lingering in his expression before he resumed walking. you remained rooted in place, pieces of a larger puzzle scattering through your mind. but it was as if your thoughts grew foggy whenever you were near him—like familiarity slipping through your fingers, just beyond reach. zhongli glanced back at you, tilting his head ever so slightly. "aren’t you coming?"

you murmured a soft “yes” and quickened your steps to catch up, brushing away the weight of your thoughts. "how did morax befriend cloud retainer?" you asked, steering the conversation back to familiar ground. he seemed to know so much more about your god than even your father, things lost to time.

and with every answer he gave, you found yourself more bewildered than before.

your curiosity always brought a quiet joy to zhongli, a chance for him to indulge in your questions, your wonder. at first, he thought nothing of it, simply an opportunity to share the knowledge he had gathered over centuries. but slowly, he found himself captivated, drawn to you in ways that puzzled even him. he started accompanying you outside the city, watching you in silence as you lit incense and knelt before the statue of rex lapis. but today, something was different. your expression had shifted, lips set in a thin, guilty line. like a river running cold, your posture stiffened as if weighed by an unspoken burden.

"is something troubling you?" his voice was gentle, though there was a faint edge of concern as he watched you stare up at the stone likeness of the god. you blinked, shaken from your daze, shaking your head with a quiet denial. but zhongli had known you long enough to see through the facade. "you’re different today. while you pray."

your throat tightened, words tangling within you. how could you admit that the man beside you, the one you’d come to know for mere months, had taken up more space in your heart than the god you had worshipped all your life? it was a storm within you, like water crashing through the valleys of your soul, eroding the bedrock of belief you had built.

"i can’t tell you," you murmured, turning your back to him. "this is between me and rex lapis."

"am i not your friend?" his voice was soft, almost too soft. "am i not as close to you as rex lapis is?"

he faltered then, realizing the weight of his words. what had he just revealed? he hoped the slip of his tongue wouldn’t shatter the delicate line he had walked all this time. you were clever—more clever than anyone he’d known—but perhaps your heart would refuse to see the truth.

yet why had he even said it? he was rex lapis, wasn’t he? so why did it matter that zhongli, the mortal, had become more important to you than the god? why did he feel envy, for his own self?

"you are not him," you whispered, a note of disturbance in your voice. "you are mortal. he is my god."

"he is your friend," zhongli replied quietly, searching your face, "and so am i. if something troubles you, something that disturbs your prayer, why not tell me? i don’t want to see you unhappy like this."

"i can’t," you insisted, your shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "why don’t you understand-"

"but why not?"

"because i’m in love with you!" the words bursted from you, raw and trembling in the space between you both. your voice did not crack with tears, but the defeat in your eyes spoke of an agony deeper than tears could show. "and you’ve taken up more space in my life than my god. and that... that breaks me."

the confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, as if the world itself had stilled in the wake of your words.

"oh," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "i am sorry."

he watched as your face twisted in thought, a realization settling behind your eyes, something heavy and final. "i know," you murmured, turning away, your voice distant. "we should head back into the city before it gets dark."

"wait, i must tell you-"

"no, zhongli." you shook your head, your defeat palpable. "i know you don’t feel the same. it’s alright. i shouldn’t feel this way either. i’m supposed to love him more."

"but i do feel the same," he said, his voice suddenly firm, cutting through your words with a softness that startled you. "i feel the same, so why shouldn’t you?"

your mind went blank. his words left you utterly speechless, like the world had tipped sideways. you blinked up at him, confusion written across your furrowed brows, eyes glassy as you struggled to make sense of what he had just said. it felt almost sacrilegious. zhongli stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder with the familiarity of an old friend. "it is why i want to spend every moment of my life with you. why i want you to stay by my side until my last breath. is that not fair?"

you stared at him, blinking rapidly, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. how could this be real? how could the man who had become your constant, your guide, feel the same way you did? he spoke again, his voice steady and warm, as though wrapping you in a promise. "if you love morax so much, then let’s draw a contract between us. that you will love me with the same intensity as you love him. and in return, i’ll help you love him more. i will tell you stories about him, i will show you more of liyue harbor, i will take you to the temples, and pray alongside you until your last breath—if that is what keeps you content."

his words washed over you like a tide, a promise carved from stone and time. you felt the weight of it, the gravity of his offer. this man, this mortal, who had unknowingly become the center of your world, was offering himself wholly to you—not in opposition to the god you revered, but alongside him, like two halves of the same whole. it was a contract, a binding of hearts, one that felt as sacred as the prayers you had once whispered at the foot of the statue.

and so another chapter of zhongli’s infinitely long life began. but you were not infinite—you were fleeting, a moment in time that would fade. you aged like the finest wines of mondstadt, while he remained the same: tall, revered, handsome. your hair greyed, lines formed at the corners of your eyes, and soon, you grew older than auntie ping. and then, just like that, you were gone.

the scent of you vanished with the passing breeze, the smell of the rivers from qingce village where you grew up, the fragrance of old history books you lovingly stored, cleaned, and kept in your home. all of it—gone.

but zhongli remembers. he remembers every lantern rite spent by your side, watching the fireworks burst in the sky, but always, always watching you instead. the way your eyes lit up in awe at the colors that painted the night sky—he treasures it more than any celebration. and even after you were gone, liyue continued to bustle, unchanged. and zhongli stayed the same.

he lived on, because immortality was both a blessing and a curse. every year, he would stand on the high grounds, watching the fireworks bloom in the heavens with a weight in his chest that only grew heavier with time. and every year, he thought of you—your boundless curiosity, your devotion that never wavered.

he remembers the day he found your letter, tucked away like a relic, jagged edges and all. the curiosity that once led you to him now led him to unfold that paper with trembling hands. your words were simple, but they cut deep.

you had told him to live a long life—how ironic. as if he could do anything but. to eat well, as if you were still there, cooking for him each morning and night. to drink tea with ping, because you knew the weight of his loneliness. and you told him you loved him, as if he didn't already know, as if he couldn’t feel it in the way you breathed life into everything around you.

and then, what struck him most, what lingered in the back of his mind even after centuries passed, was how you signed it.

"thank you for everything, rex lapis. i leave you with love."

it was the last thing he had from you, and yet it was more than enough to keep your memory alive—because in the end, you had known. you had always known.

in his long life, he had done countless great things, and shall do countless more still. as they say: the waters change course, but the mountains move not.

so zhongli continues to live. carrying your love with him like an echo in his heart, as eternal as he was.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #rex lapis x reader #rex lapis #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact zhongli #angstober #genshin impact fluff

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dawndelion-winery · 11 months ago

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I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice

Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless

Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley

[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]

Childe:

You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax

And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1

Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain

You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him

And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater

And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him

Anything for your Ajax

And when he finally debuts...

Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on

You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him

Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?

That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV

You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it

Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning

Holding your breath, choking and flailing

It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all

And once he's converted you into a fan?

He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times

And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss

Furina:

The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage

Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled

It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising

Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews

She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find

So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true

And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask

It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest

Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?

And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress

And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive

So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again

And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was

It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her

Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath

Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way

Kaveh:

Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports

And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team

And frankly, a very charming face

Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)

He's really raking in the viewers

Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races

Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous

"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."

As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?

He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp

He is speed on the track

And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself

So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking

You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything

Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it

Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")

Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement

Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses

But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end

Scaramouche(Wanderer):

You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?

The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him

You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you

"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."

"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."

The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you

Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows

It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works

Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being

Which left you ever curious

Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions

Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece

Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face

Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him

He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly

And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not

You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty

"You're oddly silent today," he notes.

"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."

"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."

Wriothesley:

Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle

A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)

Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job

The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team

The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-

He's built like a tank and plays like one too

So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy

And he is

He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed

So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?

Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?

Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers

But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart

And oh so very vulnerable to affection

For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?

Boy was he at a loss

He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice

But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet

Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss

He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you

So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away

Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows

The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling

Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier

And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating

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megtrns · 2 months ago

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imagine. megatron / human!reader. she/her used. sfw

Thinking about a scenario where the Lost Light has a human liaison who carries herself with the kind of deluded self-confidence that caused mechs like Tarn to form the DJD. And it usually got her what she wanted. She knows she's beautiful, smart, and charming — why else was she chosen as the best candidate for this extremely delicate interspecies diplomatic operation? So the minute she boards the ship and sets her eyes on the co-captain, only to get turned down the second she attempts to flirt with him, she nearly has to be carried into the medbay.

( She tells Ratchet she feels deathly sick and the medic had flatly told her there was an undisputably greater chance that this was the first time she didn't get what she wanted rather than any terminal illness.)

And Megatron definitely did not do it on purpose to wipe the smug look on her face (and because nothing good ever comes out of taking a chance on him). But he failed to consider that rejection only made her more persistent. If anything, it has turned into months of her pursuing him: the one-sided flirting, the free drinks during the rare moments he joins one of Rodimus' get togethers, the coincidental meetings in the hallways (where she'd always just so happen to be all dressed up).

" Fancy seeing you here Megatron," She'd hum playfully, twirling a hair in her hand, " I was just going to grab a midnight snack."

" In high heels?" He'd deadpan.

( "What do you know about human customs?")

And he wasn't the only one who noticed, the others were more amused than disturbed to stop her little charade. If anything, it made everyone more at ease, knowing that their human liaison was more than happy to bother Megatron for free. Apparently, every time the ex-warlord suffers, an Autobot recharges better at night.

( At some point during one of Ultra Magnus's meetings, she had chosen to sit on the other side of the room, across Megatron, so she could blow kisses at him the entire lecture. That was the first time in Autobot history did the Tyrest Accord officer ended one of his meetings early, visibly distracted by the sight of Megatron slowly trying to block her from his peripheral vision. )

But someone pointed out that if Megatron was truly bothered by it, the ill-tempered mech would've put a stop to it by now. And it was true, because, in the late hours of the night when he's not constantly scrutinized by hundreds of bots, he would sit on the edge of his berth to read the minuscule sticky note she would leave on the door of his hab suite every other day; trying to not give in and smile at her terrible 'pick-up lines.'

Oh, but it was still torture. Because he is not the mech who can afford to fall head first, eyes closed for her. And she is oblivious to the fact that she doesn't even need to try. One night, when it was just Rodimus and Co, drinking without their liaison, Swerve had pointed out that when she's not looking, Megatron's always stealing glances at her when he thinks no one's around to notice. The next day someone said they had walked in on Megatron flipping tables at Swerves.

#megatron #transformers #mtmte #megatron x reader #the lost light

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fihyn · 1 month ago

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listen. wyll is good. wyll is earnestly and deliberately good. and I think people are inclined to think he’s somehow boring because he doesn’t appear to struggle to remain good in his heart despite everything that’s thrown at him. and I understand that internal conflict can often be what is most compelling in a character.

but I think the conflict in wyll is just more complex and maybe people aren’t looking closely enough to understand it. I really, honestly believe that being so earnestly good is wyll’s coping mechanism for the horrors rather than something that wars with those horrors within him. like a faith you fall back on again and again because without community or comfort or any other form of support, eventually all you have to hold onto is a desperate prayer. wyll clings to what is “good” and “right” (and sometimes “traditional”) because it is all he feels he has.

he talks a lot about his certainty. he speaks in a very assured and composed way about his ideals and his beliefs in true goodness and heroics. and I do believe he himself has just a depthlessly good heart. but. But. I do think there is some notable repetition in how often he revisits the same ideals if there’s someone around to listen. this repetition, to me, hints at some underlying doubts (NOT doubts about if goodness is worth it or not, just some simmering awareness that the systems that taught him goodness may not be infallible), not to mention an almost frightening martyrdom when it comes to himself.

and. AND. when wyll is struggling the most with these doubts, he turns to classical stories and traditional fables to comfort himself. he molds himself after the qualities of the heroes in his stories and takes very little time to consider what he wants within himself or who he might be outside of those stories. who among us hasn’t turned to fiction for comfort and guidance, when we have so little understanding from other people that we have nowhere else to turn? who of us - maybe especially when we were children - molded ourselves to be just like our favorite characters because we felt inherently unworthy to be ourselves? this is such a deeply compelling aspect of wyll’s character to me.

(quick note that I understand that he does sometimes do what he wants to pursue his own happiness - he is truly the biggest dork ever and loves being The Blade - but this still partially suffers from being what he wants within the framework that he feels he’s even allowed to have wants inside of.)

I think a lot of people think it is ridiculous or even foolish for him to not be angry with his dad. but I believe in the wake of what happened, wyll couldn’t bear to be angry with his dad, because it would mean giving up on the idea that his father is adhering to what is “good.” he’s willing to accept that his father is flawed or misguided in sending him away, but I don’t think he ever allowed himself to think on the reverse, to wonder, “why couldn’t he believe that I was good too? even if I did something that to his eyes, looked like it might have been bad?” because it was too painful to imagine his father as less than good. because wyll learned his ideals of being good from his father - and it is too much for him to let that be threatened. thus the pattern begins - even if it is painful, even if it hurts wyll deeply, it is better to stick to your ideals above all else because it’s just not tenable to give up being good.

and he clearly does not think this way in regards to anyone else other than himself. he accepts people like vampire astarion and sharran shadowheart and militaristic lae’zel as his friends because he’s willing to give everyone a chance other than himself. everyone else in the world deserves the opportunity to live and thrive and see who they’re meant to be and it’s wrong to cast them out or harm them on the basis that their existence goes against some pre-established ideal… but not wyll. wyll’s wellbeing and happiness never comes above the greater good. he believes that so deeply. listen no one has ever loved this man for who he is beneath the heroics and it hurts but he believes that.

wyll not getting his own choice (apart from the player character’s ideas) in the act 3 mizora scene is frustrating, but maybe. maybe it hints at him feeling completely lost - coming up against this brick wall of a choice that either forces him to once again turn away from his father’s ideals to work with a devil to save that which he loves most (repeat what drove him away from his beloved father years ago) OR. face the idea that all this pain he’s feeling in regards to (seemingly) giving up his father in order to be “good” is something that maybe his father should have shown for wyll as well. ulder ravengard didn’t even appear to be conflicted in sending wyll away, and wyll is facing this terrible choice, possibly for the very first time letting himself wonder if his father was really as matter-of-fact about it as it felt from wyll’s perspective. maybe that’s why he doesn’t choose for himself.

in any case, I do think we lost something as a natural consequence of having wyll’s character arc rewritten so late in development because it would have been REALLY rewarding to see some more act 3 wyll character arc in the form of “sometimes hard moral choices can’t always be solved just by sacrificing yourself” because I would have loved dearly to see him both come to realize he’s worth fighting for too, and that sometimes there isn’t an obvious “good” answer. not that I think wyll is naive, but I do think he’s come to associate “difficult” choices with the idea that “one of these choices will be painful for me but it’s more important to strive to be good than to strive to be happy” and has grappled less with “none of these choices feel right or good but I still have to make a choice.”

as a final note I do believe ulder ravengard loves wyll but he is deeply flawed in his relationship to him. he does the exact same thing - wyll learned it from him - “what is ‘good’ and ‘right’ must be followed above all else even if it is deeply painful for me.” and I do believe sending wyll away was deeply painful for him. but he wasn’t even willing to show hesitation, and wyll learned that from him too. wyll never sounds like he’s even questioning his ideals, because his father never did, never showed wyll it was okay to struggle with them. not even when it was wyll himself on the line. also, due to his position as duke, ulder has naturally had to align his ideals with general civilian law, instead of doing what many of us would (what wyll does, when he’s out on his own), and understanding a certain loyalty to your own is maybe more important than perfect righteousness.

#wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll analysis #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll my beloved #he deserved better than act 3 gave him truly

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cybsoo2 · 9 months ago

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yandere bts profile

╰┈➤ synopsis — Stories of seven men living their yandere lives.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — murder, yandere behavior, stalker behavior, manipulative behavior, graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, suicide, self-harm, vomiting, invasion of privacy, talk of religion

—Kim Seokjin

yandere type — manipulative and overprotective

watch out for! — overprotection, isolating, self-imposing, monitoring, spy cams, invasion of privacy

Seokjin speaks sweet lies

He’s such a good liar that he’s even begun to deceive himself

He’ll tell himself these selfish sins are for the greater good

Misleading you and manipulating others is one of his many skills

Although he holds no affection for anyone else and is inclined to ruin their lives through manipulation, he doesn’t dare try it on you

Although the fate of your friends and foes is different, He’d never hurt you, wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless you asked

He doesn’t want your love to be a lie, to become warped and wrecked into images unknown

Instead, he leads you astray when you step too close to his sinful secrets

When a coworker with a crush comes too close for his liking, he’ll whisper the words, “He’s not good enough for you sweetheart.”

Your friends offer an invitation to get drunk one dark night, “It’s too dangerous to drink this late at night, stay inside with me instead.”

And maybe one morning, a slithering suspicion sits still in your mind

You ask him why he’s so protective, so passionate, so possessive, and he’ll tell you, “I love you like no other.”

Jin cares about your safety

He wishes you’d be healthy and happy all the time

Although, his methods of achieving this dream can have some consequences

He’ll worm his way into your life

He looms over you with a loving presence

But if he’s not careful enough, his ‘love’ can be suffocating

He monitors your actions, not stalking, but spying on you through other methods

He’ll set up cameras to make sure you don’t get hurt

Of course a fragile fawn like you needs him in order to survive

He takes the truth from your friends to figure out how you’ve been doing

He’ll read your messages to find the deviant souls that might harm you

He gives biased advice (Though you don't know it) in order to keep you close to him

Misleading your crushes by telling them that you’re already taken

He keeps you away from everyone else, so much so that some friends become distant and disturbed at the sight of him

Jin is willing to be whatever you what so long as he can stay by your side

He’ll be your friend, a brother, a lover

He’s perfect for you, if it weren’t from the looming sense of danger that falls in his shadow

—Min Yoongi

yandere type — obsessive and possessive

watch out for! — murder, codependency, self-containment

Yoongi hides his true nature behind longing looks and a distant friendship

He keeps calm underneath a cold exterior

Yoongi stays to himself and watches you from afar

He may murder any pests that cross your path, but he wouldn’t dream of hurting you

You’d never assume he mutilates men and women while you sleep

He brings you glory through each slash and stab of scarlet

Yoongi just might be a cruel killer, but the worst types of killers are those who’ve become self aware

He holds a court of immoral justice in his head

Killing based off bias, yet he can’t find himself to care

You’ve made him into a merciless man, which is why he can’t stop once he’s set his mind on something

He’ll put on a plaster face, he’ll be kind, and quiet, and normal

Yet even if his body stays at shore, a selfish need sings him out to sea

Yoongi believes in codependency, you need him and he needs you

He may put himself in a position that demands him to be close to you

He could be a coworker, a classmate, or perhaps a neighbour

But you can bet that you’ve met him before

Yoongi is too dependent on the normality you two have to act on his obsession

He understands his sick self and knows the consequences if he confesses

Yoongi knows that he won’t be able to hide the horrors of who he truly is, so he doesn’t even take the chance

He believes in a loyal love and couldn’t lie to you if you had a real romance

He’ll take what he can get and make sure no one else can get in the way

His obsession is closed away in the corner of his heart (But that’s not exactly true since his whole heart belongs to you)

His passion is put on the shelf to collect dust in the dark

A distant dream that had no hope of really happening

It rots away in his ribcage, tearing him apart from the inside out

His sickness is a symptom of this strange fixation

He throws up three times a day

The bile burns through his throat and now drops of blood join the rest of his lost lunch

A running list of other side-effects include: sleep loss, hypersomnia, depression, loss of appetite, etc.

Yoongi is always wanting the dream that waits

Sometimes, he sees a sliver of it in his sleep

A feverish fantasy where you embrace like lovers and kiss without consequences

But then he wakes up to reality and wishes this illness had never infected him

Your love is like a leech, bleeding him to the bone and testing his tenacity

But then tomorrow arrives and he sees the smile he’s so lost in love with

His inertia is eternal and he’ll never give up what he has for his unlikely odds

Your life remains pretty much the same except for the missing men and women that hurt you many months ago

You would never suspect that the sweet, yet shy Yoongi has his heart in your hold

—Jung Hoseok

yandere type — clingy, obsessive, and delusional

watch out for! — self-harm, suicide, dependency, delusion, mixing fantasy with reality, insecurity

Despite how intense his love can be, he never acts as more than desperate and delusional when it involves you

There’s no need to worry about mysterious murders when it comes to Hoseok

He doesn’t have the patience, planning, or guts to kill anyone

He’d rather reap his worries and run away from the issue

He’s comes crying to you at the slightest inconvenience

You’re the savior of his soul who soothes all his sorrows

Such a saint you are, putting up with someone as pathetic and plain as this broken boy

Even when the roles are reversed and your upset under a burden of blue, Hobi will be your crying companion

He can’t help it, seeing you so sad evokes excruciating emotions

Someone as sweet as yourself doesn’t deserve to be depressed, which is why he’ll do anything it takes to be your sunshine in the storm

Hoseok is someone that clings close to you

Always following you around wherever you go and sticking by your side

Hoseok desperately depends on you, he may be your sunshine but you’re his hope

You’re the reason he’s like this after all

You gave him a glimpse of happiness, a unique thing in this large universe

He sees you as his angel, always right and a savior to the lovesick

Your kindness and compassion are what immediately intrigued him

But what made him unable to shake this obsession is how special you made him feel

You look into his eyes and you see him as an individual

You see his soul for all it’s crimson colours and still accept him

That’s when his delusion begins to distort the realm of reality

He truly believes you love him like he loves you

Why else would you take pity on a poor soul like him

His insecurities suffocate him, telling him he isn’t good enough for you

Yet you still stay, never once have you thought of the boy as a burden

This twisted love ties into his dreams

He dreams of the distant future: tangled in each others embrace, whispering your carmine confessions, and living out the rest of your lives as lovers

These fantasies feel so real that sometimes Hoseok swears they actually happened

That kiss you shared in the shadows last week? Totally real!

You falling asleep in his arms after crying out your confessions? Definitely happened according to Hoseok!

But when these fairy tales fizzle out, Hobi is left with lost dreams and a broken heart

Falling down from heaven, he’s struck by the hard-hitting truth

You don’t love him and even if you did he wouldn’t deserve it

He cries and tries to cut himself clean

Emptying out the red as it runs down the drain

He lets out the pain on his pinkening flesh

One day he may fall too far

Running the red blade over his arteries until all he can see is black blood

But he’s hopeful for now, this imaginary event would only happen if you turned to hate him

Screaming that he’s a psycho and a sinner

Crying cause you can never be alone, him always at your side

Telling him how much you hate him

Saying you wish to never see him again

It would take a lot for Hoseok to fully lose his heart

And the loss of your love is the one thing that would sink his sorrows

Without your light to guide him, it would send him overboard into the black abyss

—Kim Namjoon

yandere type — manipulative and devotee

watch out for! — collector, murder, manipulation, worship, extreme obsession

Namjoon worships the water you walk on

Yet this twisted type of religion isn’t right, it isn’t even real

In his mind, you’re an angel of purity and perfection

You’re the cause of every good event that happens to him

You single handedly uplift his life and give him guidance

And he’s just happy to be the devotee to his one and only divine

As aforementioned, Namjoon is a collector

His entire home is a museum of memories

Tiny trinkets are stacked on shelves, and useless objects are crowded into of the corners of his room

But every piece has a purpose, each and every object leads back to you

Outsiders may say he’s a hoarder, but Namjoon remembers why so many red bottles are shoved under his bed

You endorsed a beauty brand and he bought out the entire stock

Now every time he does his nightly routine, he can sense the faint feeling of your skin on his

Shoved in his drawers is the jewelry you just wore

Replicas of bronze bracelets or ruby rings

He wears noir necklaces like a noose around his neck

Chained up under your control, you decide his destiny

When he wears copies of your clothes, sometimes he feels slightly closer to you

Like he can hear you whispering right from wrong in his ear

Telling him what to do and how to do it

Namjoon doesn’t think for himself

His emotions are almost artificial, only responding with empathy when it relates to you

He’s lost interest in the social scene, but still goes out to keep connections

He talks to people only to take their trust and ask for favours in the future

It’s common knowledge to anyone that Namjoon is easily infatuated with you

He doesn’t try to hide it and uses peoples intrigue to gain intelligence

But the occasional onlooker will sometimes sense that this isn’t just a common crush

They might’ve found out about his stash of souvenirs stuffed up in his attic

Perhaps it was how obviously anxious Namjoon gets when you’re not near

Or maybe they noticed the lovesick looks he wishes your way

But when Namjoon finds out he’s got a follower, he knows what he has to do

He’s not big fan of murder, it takes up too much time and it’s a mess to keep hidden, he’d rather it be fast and efficient

So he sends his sins out to sea

He has no time for torture and no desire to drag this out

Namjoon ties up his victim in twine ropes

The ropes wrap around the writhing fool

Tether twisting around their throat and cutting off their cries

The rope scratches scarlet off the skin, leaving long lines that bruise purple and pink

Namjoon ties a brick to their ankles, bringing them back down to the dark

It’s the murder of a man who knew too much, sinking out in the open ocean with all their knowledge never to be known

The weight of Namjoon’s actions never wrestles with his heart

Uncaring and callous, he never stops to consider that these heinous acts hurt his humanity

Because in his brown eyes, this is all your doing

You told him to get rid of the fool that fell too close to your godly grace

You can do no wrong so this must be the new morality

Namjoon will protect your perfection by never letting any noble men come too close

Your sweet love must be kept a secret, no other weakling worthy enough for it but him

And even though dark doubts still taint his thoughts, Namjoon will spend the rest of his worship proving he’s your lovesick slave

—Park Jimin

yandere type — clingy and psychotic

watch out for! — isolating, self-harm, murder, suicide, dependency, jealousy, hysteria, insecurity, kidnapping

The gods gave Jimin a gift

A double wielded sword weighted with the opposite ends of emotion

His feelings are feverish and burn with a bright intensity

It’s all a sliding scale for him, switching out his soul for whatever worth

All-consuming emotions are what drives him

Day by day, Jimin is mostly described as empathetic and enthusiastic

And while Jimin is an awestruck soul, he also hides his more dark desires

Your love sets him alight

Melting away his walls to reveal the real monster

Violent thoughts flow thoughts his veins

It’s like a venom, monopolizing his mind and evoking his red wrath

Jimin isn’t an apathetic man, he cares too much about the things that make him tick and the love he lusts after

He’s incapable of indifference, always so engrossed in his emotions and their outcomes

Loving him would be like locking yourself in with a lion

Jimin worships you like you no other and makes you feel like you’re alone in ardent

But the burning candle that controls his heart will always end up blinding you

He’s too dependant, always running after you and following like a poor puppy

He’s too jealous, scared you’ll be stolen away by any other man

He’s overly enthusiastic, lovesickness so suffocating you have to beg to break free from his hugs

Jimin takes you two to solitude, liking to rest in your warmth without any else’s eyes on you

While the long list of turmoil may taunt you, it’ll only get worse when he’s upset

Jimin has widespread worries that you’ll leave him like everyone else

Insecurities lay intimate in his mind and he’ll only ever speak them to his soulmate

He’ll spend countless days crying and trying to seek your sweet reassurance

When these dark doubts are ripe and rip his heart apart, you better not set him off or else the consequences are grave

When he’s like this, clinging to you and crying his heart out, it’s best to shush his sorrows and hold him to your heart

He’ll bawl his eyes out into your blue sweatshirt, white knuckles wrapped around the familiar fabric

He’ll try to hide the hiccups in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed for his emotional outburst

Jimin lies limply in your lap, tired out from all the tears but too vulnerable to let go

He chases away the cold in your warm embrace

You speak lovely lies of how you love him

If this is all insanity and you truly don’t love him, then this outcome would be very different

Was it a rash rejection? Or careless cruelty too much for his heart to handle?

Either way Jimin would explode in a case of confusing emotions

He’d swipe the silver blade down to the bone, bleeding out all over the bathroom tile and trying to tell you how much he loves you

“I’m nothing without you and I won’t let you leave.”

“I’d kill to keep you, I’d die if you don’t love me.”

The universe is always against your relationship and if a situation where to arise where he can’t keep you, he may just kidnap you instead

A much more morbid scenario might even involve suicide

You escape and Jimin must now spend eternity alone

He’d wake up at death’s door with pills pouring out his mouth

A terrible taste lays on his lips and his stomach is swimming in poison

A life without his love is a life not worth living

—Kim Taehyung

yandere type — devotee and stalker

watch out for! — murder, stalking, invasion of privacy, voyeurism, collector, murder-suicide, insecurity, monitoring , worship

Taehyung is a cruel romantic

His thirst for your entirety is insatiable

This growing greed is what makes him so bold

He takes risks none of the other boys would dare to dream of

Of course, he didn’t always act so impatient

This restlessness for your red romance had started small before it spiraled into disarray

Subtle acts of stalking or stealing is how it all began

He just wanted to feel close to you, whether that be through physicality or by objects tainted with your touch

Taehyung is a collector of lost possessions and missing moral

But it didn’t take much time before he grew tired of absent objects and started stealing glances of you instead

He watches as you wander under the moonlight

Your features burning like fire in his brain

You’re so memorable under the moon that he can’t help himself from painting 10,000 pictures of your perfection

Taehyung sees himself as an artist and you his muse

His drawings dictate your every move, illustrate your emotions, and reflect your beauty

The days spent drawing last from dusk to dawn, and although he could never be bored of staring at your face and flesh, an emptiness begins to claw at his chest

It creeps in from the corners of the room, a cold wind that washes over him and makes him shiver

It takes hold of your image in his mind, making each brushstroke dull and distorted

Your pretty portraits lack your warmth, as does our poor Tae

He’s persistent in his pursuit of lifelong love, and he won’t stop waiting until your his to take

If Taehyung were to actually take part in your life, you’d live an endless eternity of claustrophobia and catastrophe

It may take some time, but you’ll begin to see the signs of your impending downfall before you can stop it

Taehyung’s love is tender and touching

It’s make anyone awe at the sight, but they don’t understand what goes on in the shadows

You’re an inspiration for his art, so much so that your home starts to look like a house of mirrors

Every element of your eternity must be captured, from the bare bones down to trailing patterns at your fingertips

He studies you like a statue

Staring at you all day, swearing at himself whenever he has to blink

Taehyung believes that your bare beauty is an eternal enigma

Your one in a billion and must be treated as such

He tries to show you his distorted devotion everyday, and this may be the only amount of pure peace you get

He makes you feel special, a divine entity the deserves everything you ask for

You were crafted by the gods themselves just for his sweet satisfaction

You were made for each other and nothing can change that… until it does

Taehyung’s always had a hunch that men and women all over the earth were jealous of your relationship

They try to tear you apart, saying your tainted by his toxic touch

He’s running out of time, slipping through the sands of the hourglass

Lost in their lies, he takes you to the one place where no one can separate your souls, heaven

Taehyung likes to think it’s romantic even, like star-crossed lovers born to be destroyed

He doesn’t flinch in the face of death

He’s so lost in his sick sense of delusion that he honestly believes you two are tied between the stars

Tangled up in each other, meant to meet in every timeline and be lovers once again

Both your sad sorrow would soak the bed he holds you in

He calms your cries with a hand held up to your trembling lips

The shivering steel of the gun touches your temple

He says that death will not be dark with him to guide you

You won’t feel the Reapers cold caress when he’s here to hold you

Taehyung gives your lips one last quiet kiss

Breaking apart only to breathe and whisper the words,

“I love you in every universe.”

“Till’ we meet again my dearest divine.”

His last moment with you is a memory of red redemption

With his thumb triggering the gunshot, he blows your brains out on the back wall

You’re head snaps back from the force and lays limply on your shoulder

Blood bleeds down and begins to soak the sheets

Taehyung chokes back his cries with his hand still holding the steel

He takes your cold corpse in his tender embrace and readies himself for a restful end

He lays down dark kisses to the bullet wound that tore open your temple

He weeps away his heinous actions and with you still held close to his heart, he puts the last bullet in his brain

—Jeon Jungkook

yandere type — impulsive and delusional

watch out for! — murder, suicide, dependency, kidnapping, delusion, hysteria, impulsion

Jungkook is just a boy with a broken heart

Still learning the differences between desire and devotion

He twists the two into one, his passion is painful and his innocent intentions begin to wither away

That fiery fondness that once burned so bright now sends smoke signals of death and destruction

But what really matters is what moment of massacre you met him

Was it when he was still a shy soul? Susceptible to sin but also ready for redemption

Or was it when he was a man? Matured into murder and wrapped up in wrath

If you arrived early in the timeline of terror, then you’d probably be childhood friends

Playing pretend in a world without worries

Lost in a little kids imagination, you play house, yourself as the wife and him as the husband

This is when his kindergarten crush would begin to grow

As a child you’d call yourselves soulmates, but an adult eye would sense that someone was seriously wrong

Jungkook would throw tantrums whenever you left to leave, and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d turn to violence

He’d begin to grow dependant on his only friend

Playdates would pursue sleepovers which would then turn to him refusing to ever leave your side

Scared that you’d be snatched away if his attention fell too far

And as you grew up, got to know more about the horrors and hormones of the future, you’d eventually find yourselves as high-school sweethearts

Jungkook just like his old self, only better at hiding the bloodshed

The obsession would only grow as you get older

More things threaten your relationship and his anger and anxiety amplify

But your impression of the innocent boy still stays the same

Sure he may be more dependant and delusional then most men, but he’s still your sweet boy

If an artist were to paint a portrayal of a lost lover, it would be Jungkook

Every day is a dream, you drink in his devotion and bathe in bliss

He washes away all your worries and takes on all life's labours

Your life would look pretty normal only because Jungkook’s good at burying all the bodies and biting back his paranoia

But when you bottle up your emotions for years on end, it’ll eventually explode in your face

Jungkook has always been impulsive, acting on his anger and making irrational decisions

His rage causes him to run on a rampage, killing anyone that could come too close

His fear tells him to hide you in the house and cut ties with the outside world

Jungkook is determined to obtain the life and love he obsesses over

Which is why when things don’t go his way, his has a fit of hysteria

His tempers turns up to 100 and he may try to kidnap you

He’s abandoned all rationality and is recklessly driving your relationship off a cliff

His thoughts are so stubborn and he won’t stop once he’s set on a solution

No planning or preparation is taken in advance

He’s in a fit of frantic fear and reality is slowly slipping

Illusion is in his lungs, he can’t understand that he’s undoing all his progress thus far

So set on the end goal, he can’t see the death and decay until he holds it in his arms

It’s a sudden slaughter and he’s doesn’t processes your passing until you’re pale and purple

After a rainy night spent sobbing and still clutching your cold corpse, he comes to a conclusion

He can’t live with his actions, he’s a monster in a man’s body

He feels sick in his skin, he tries to scratch it off

Peeling off the pink to reveal the red undertones

His hands are still sore from the force he gripped your throat with, he tries to take those off too

He’s disturbed by what he’s just done

Jungkook gathers your blue body in his arms and takes you to the bathtub

He dies by your side, drowning in devastation

most to least dangerous — jungkook, taehyung, jimin, hoseok, namjoon, jin, yoongi

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months ago

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Politely affectionately agressively begging for more Furina fics you write her AMAZINGLYYYYY PLEASEEE and it's so rare to see my girl get any fics YOU A REAL ONE FR FR 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

(Genshin Impact) Furina watching an emotional movie with her S/O

*Imperial Guardsmen Voice* IF SUCH IS THE EMPEROR'S WILL! Also, you can imagine this as an Isekai S/O or Fontaine somehow developed movies, idk you can work the imagination on how movies exist in Tevyat, I'm just here to give you the funny/cute.

Furina's lips trill in boredom as she sits down on the couch, an hand underneath her chin.

Dinner had already been finished, dessert promptly followed but the night was still young.

Her S/O was in front of the couch, rustling coming from a box they were searching through.

She got up from her seat and knelt next to them, curious as to what they were looking for.

(Furina) "S/O?"

(S/O) "Hang on, just looking for something we can watch...ah!"

S/O pulled out a box containing a small CD. Furina couldn't help but flinch instinctually.

(S/O) "Before you ask, no it's not a horror movie."

With a sigh of relief, she grabbed the box and raised an eyebrow.

(Furina) "Oh thank goodness!...A-Ahem, so, what is this?"

(S/O) "It's from Inazuma. It's a super cheesy story about a man and female meka falling in love."

They put a finger to their chin as Furina scoffed as she crossed her arms.

(Furina) "Oh please, I've seen far worse premises in my stage plays, S/O!"

(S/O) "True, but this one might make you cry."

Furina's smirk grows bigger hearing their lack of faith.

(Furina) "Psh! Me? Cry at a love story probably told a thousand times? Please! Put it on S/O! I'll prove you otherwise!"

ONE HOUR LATER...

S/O and Furina were sitting quietly, nearing the end of the film's duration.

The man's head was resting on the meka's lap as he was nearing the end of his life, though the mood was very bittersweet.

With a beautiful piano tune playing in the background, the Meka looked up to the sky, finally getting a revelation for the human it fell in love with.

[Mekaigis] "Not everything needs to be for some greater purpose. Just caring for someone can be enough. That's all we need to give our lives meaning. As for me, I've found my path. And that's to protect you with my life..."

S/O's heart strings tugged at the touching dialogue. Blinking away a few tears, S/O turned to Furina.

(S/O) Furina's been really quiet. I wonder if she's not as affected as-

S/O's thoughts were interrupted the moment they actually glanced at their girlfriend.

Furina reached for her box of tissues, which was already halfway gone, and blew violently into it.

She proceeded to wipe away her tears with her hands while her lips trembled, eyes locked onto the screen the entire time.

(S/O) ...Okay yeah, she's doing as good as I thought she would.

S/O moved in closer to hold her hand and at least give her some comfort for this admittedly tear-inducing scene.

Only for their hand to be almost hurt from her grip strength as she held on with all of her passion, Furina's attention daring not to even turn away.

S/O almost yelped out in pain, but kept strong for the sake of their girlfriend's immersion.

And with the man finally closing his eyes, the movie finally came to a close, with the music's lyrics riding the scene out.

[Movie] "kaze no koe hikari no tsubu madoromu kimi ni sosogu-"

Furina stood up from her chair, pointing to the screen with tears still fresh in her eyes.

(Furina) "T-THE MOVIE ENDS RIGHT THERE?! BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR! HE AND MEKAIGIS FOUGHT TO SAVE THE WORLD, THEY SHOULD BE HAPPY TOGETHER!"

S/O couldn't contain their soft laughter, getting up and attempting to calm her down by gently wiping her tears away.

(S/O) "I agree, but it's a rather beautiful ending to such a tragic story. But what did you think of it?"

Furina pouted at their laughter, crossing her arms and huffing.

(Furina) "I'd rather have watched a horror movie, something like that is way too sad!"

(S/O) "I thought you said you wouldn't cry-"

(Furina) "I-I was simply crying at their performances! They did an amazing job acting out a horrid script, as a performer I couldn't just ignore their handiwork!"

S/O playfully rolled their eyes as they sat Furina back down, quickly joining her on the couch.

(S/O) "Is that right? Anyways, there's a followup sequel where it follows Mekaigis after the events of this movie called the Answ-"

(Furina) "PUT IT ON RIGHT NOW! I HAVE TO FIND OUT RIGHT NOW!"

Her voice cracked as she pointed at the screen, making S/O laugh and comply.

(S/O) "Yes, ma'am."

Furina's leg bounced anxiously as she watched S/O painfully put the next film in slowly, getting immersed again immediately.

===

Author's note:

This isn't actually anything related to the post besides the obvious reference, I just have to get it out of my system because I was listening to the soundtrack of said reference. Ahem. AAALLLL THE JOURNEYS START SOMEWHERE WITH A FIRST STEEEEEEEP NO ONE'S SURE WHAT LIES AHEAD BE BOLD AND BRAAAAAAAAAAAAVE (STAND UP!) ROADS MAY BEEEEEE ROUGH AND TOOUUUUUUGH THOUGH IT WILL LEAD SOMEWHEEEERE (NOTHING EASY GET UP AND GO GET IT GO) SOMETIMES IT'S JOURNEY ITSELF THAT TEACHEEEES A LOT ABOUT THE DESTINATION NOT AWARE OOOOOF NO MATTER HOW FAAAAAR (NO MATTER HOW FAR) HOW YOU GOOOOOOOO (HOW YOU GO HOW YOU GO) HOW LONG IT MAY LAAAAAST (CARPE DIEM NO TIME TO WASTE) VENTURE LIFE, BURN YOUR DREEEAAAAD! (YOU GOTTA VENTURE LIFE GO GET IT BURN YOUR DREAD)

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #furina x reader #furina genshin impact #furina x you #furina x y/n #furina genshin

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ahl-e-dil · 5 months ago

Text

(The Sweetness of Salah)

Always keep in mind that Salah isn't just obligatory it is food for our souls. Our soul needs prayer, it's to purify it, it's to beautify it and it's to nourish our souls. Just like how all of us are busy taking care of our bodies and appearances, we need to take care of our soul aswell, which is through, salah, getting closer to Allah everyday, seeking his forgiveness, thanking him for everything and remembering Him often.

Remember, your body will remain 6 feet under the ground and your soul will rise up and travel to Allah. Hence, in order to have a healthy soul, you need to take care of it, don't deprive it of it's food which is salah, just like you wouldn't deprive your body from it's food and exercise.

Never abandon your salah no matter what you're going through and no matter what situation you're in. Salah is what separates you from a kaffir, it's what makes us a Muslim. When you neglect your salah your neglecting your soul as well and it's final destination will be to Allah.

Disobeying Allah just to fulfill your own desires will never be worth it. It will only lead to consequence after consequence. In return it will only leave a hole in your soul, for everytime you miss a prayer it will cause that hole to become bigger and bigger until you become soulless.

Remember, when you stop praying, it's not you who has stopped praying, Allah is the One who has taken away the privilege to pray to Him from you.

Without salah you'll feel miserable, lost, empty and nothing in this dunya will truly ever satisfy you until your soul is fed. We will always feel like somethings is missing. We are nothing without salah, our life is nothing and it will seem pointless without salah.

Ask yourself this question, do I really want to get lost in this cruel dunya, which isn't even our real home and it will grant us nothing but disappointment. As you grow older you realize that this dunya is literally a prison for us believers and paradise for the disbelievers.

We need to keep in mind that salah is where your soul can heal and find comfort from this dunya which is nothing but filled with problems and chaos. It's to purify our hearts and fill it with peace and tranquility. It's to remind us of our purpose and worth, it's to show us who we truly are.

Remember, true happiness and peace only comes from remembering Allah, which you will never get from this dunya.

Always remember, that we're having a private and intimate conversation with our Creator five times a day, it's truly a blessing. When we recite surah Fatiha, Allah responds after each ayah we recite.

The moment you raise your hands and say 'Allahu Akbar', you're pushing all your problems and desires away, because Allah is greater than everything, anything and the dunya itself.

When you go in ruku, the weight of your sins fall off from your head and shoulders. The moment your forehead touches the ground, your heard in the highest heavens. In sujud your closest to Allah, so pour your heart and soul out to Him. Let it all out. SubhanAllah. How beautiful is salah.

Allah (ʿazza wa jall) has made the Hell-fire ḥarām for the face which prostrates itself to Him. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said, “Hell-fire will consume all of the son of Ādam except the mark of prostration. Allah has forbidden the Fire to consume the mark of prostration.”

-Ibn Mājah

#muslim #islam #muslimah #deenoverdunya #islamic #islam daily #islamic posts #islamic reminders #islamic quotes #deen #reminder #spilled words #spilled ink #salah #namaz

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

Text

My Love, Mine all mine -Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Based on a request:

"Broken men know who to love, but not how to love. Broken women know how to love, but not who to love." This is so Simon related 🥺🥺

---- F!Reader, fluff ----

A/N: Because he isn't always some tough masked solider, he is a man with wounds and a life beyond the battle field

It wasn't a shared feeling, he knew that well. You and he had stayed up and talked about a future like you had a clue. He knew your issues, love isn't what you want at times, you miss it, want it, but sometimes just at times, you can't give in to it, in fear of something greater that you don't know about. The smoke of his cigarette gave his not-so-secret hiding spot away. "Better not ask for my jumper again, doll," he knew you were there, knew those steps all too well. You chuckle, "You have to be some superhero," you sit beside him. He shrugs, "Just a mere mortal," he smiles. Silence between you two, speaking the words lips fail to say.

Simon knew you he was meant to love you, but not ever meant to show it. And just as he was about to speak, you rested your head on his shoulder. Classic way to ask for his jumper because you once again forgot your own. "No, not this time, I'm sick today," he excuses. "What if I get sick?" you ask and he chuckles. "You can never get sick darling, remember New Year's Day last year?"

It was cold, wind and snow surrounded you and he walked to you. The night died down rather quickly, lovers kissing inside as you walked in the snow. Thirteen years of knowing the other, he knew you too well, you want to avoid the romance, avoid the cliche and have something different, but not all can be unique. You know well, he knows too, you turn around, "Go back inside, Si, you'll get sick." He shakes his head. "What, you're telling me you won't take care of me, love?" He gets closer to you, a little pout as he gives you his puppy eyes. "Don't do that, Simon." He smirks. "Doing what, all I'm saying is, why not let me be here with you and just shit-talk all those people who might invite us to their baby showers?" You laugh. "I'm wearing blue," you comment he rolls his eyes. "No way you'll make me wear pink," he shakes his head. You ignore it, knowing a baby shower would come within nine to ten months from your friends.

He knows you. He just doesn't know if he can ever love you. In this world, a man like him isn't guaranteed a happy ending. Maybe a cut to the throat, death in a dark place, bullets blazing as his body takes its last breaths, that is a guaranteed end. Nothing in this world belongs to him, not even the knife he carries. "I almost got sick," you recall. "Keyword is almost," he looks at the skyline. "So, what is new?" he looks over to you. "Same old story." It was mad, to know he can be the man who loves you unconditionally. You could stab him in the back a million times and a million times he would thank you for doing it. Love works in different ways, his love is dark and deep but real. You could break his heart, expose him to the world, turn him into his enemy, kill him over and over, and each time, he would say he loves you.

It's a dark and twisted fairy tale to love him, but it's love that no one can take from him. He can tell you he loves you over and over, but you would still ask him if it was true. You can kiss him, care for him, hug him in days or nights when he is the most vulnerable, burn the world and watch it fall apart for him, only to have him think it's all foolery. One hug, one kiss, and he would still question what love is. The meaning displayed in your eyes, the feeling displayed in his gaze but neither are too brilliant to take a step and claim what the poets oh so need to see. You are conflicted, getting your heart broken over and over by many lovers, asking and crying to the starry nights what is so wrong with you.

Do you love too much, do you care too much? What if it's you and not them? What then? Simon, the cold stare to the passers and the soft gaze to you. R/N, the confused lover with issues and questions that one man's lips hold the answers to. One New Year's Day, one whisper of a truthful 'I love you,' two hearts, one bed, tears and promises. What makes love is not what others perceive it as. Not for a soldier, not for a civilian who questions all her love. At dinner with friends, questions were asked of when either would settle down like the others did, not knowing the answer was right at that table. Simon and R/N, are two complicated hearts that beat for one reason. To live. But those two words can be more than just a basic meaning.

One stormy night, knock on the door and he opens, shirtless and with hope. "Hi," your hoarse voice is too soft. He opens his arms and you run to them. Antidote, what a soldier like him found in that night when he promised he would be more than just a soldier but a man who loves a woman. A woman who cries in his arms as she gets heartbroken again. Boyfriends, thinking they are better than a true woman who all she wants to do is love and care. Something a soldier like him looks for in the dark. "They don't know what they lost, dear," he kisses the top of your head as he holds you close to him. He is done trying to find reasons to not love you.

You are tired of not finding enough excuses to call him home. Your home. His home. An embrace of a man who all he wants to do is protect the last thing on this earth to love him. It was a shared feeling, you both know that well. It is believed that since the creation of our universe, our galaxy, the dust that made us, always tries to find a way back to its other half. And, as he holds you close, two hearts, under one roof, he finds home, and you find home too. It's not about what piece is broken but what is still there. It's not about love or who or how to love.

Sometimes, love is not just a kiss, sex and a caress. Love is sometimes about waking up late morning, hair all messy, bodies tangled with the sheets and a burst of lazy laughter as you realise your lipstick is all over his face. Love is respect, honesty, trust, happiness, fun, and him, holding you near as he watches you cry over something small. Love is about being imperfect, flawed, broken and having the one you care for sit down, love you a little extra that day and watch as you fix yourself with his hand holding yours.

Tags:

@ghostslillady @queen-ilmaree @jnsmeyv @madamemelancholysstuff @kit-kats06 @ghostslittlegf @trulyunknownone @rogerfxckingtaylor @cripitique @sinners-sins

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sunflowerandstrawberryspice · 5 months ago

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CARMEN SANDIEGO? In 2024? It's more likely thank you think! Please excuse the shit quality for some reason I wasn't allowed to upload the normal pdf and I had to upload a fucking screenshot???

So my friend convinced me to watch Carmen Sandiego and since he's watching ALL of Ninjago for me I thought it was the least I could do to watch four season of a show with a pretty decent concept but uh... yeesh, don't get me wrong the show is really fun but lord have mercy does it have problems especially the last two seasons which were just so wildly disappointing to me. It went from a show with an interesting look on morals to pure pro-cop and mostly black and white thinking so quick (that not mentioning the breaking up a found family full of people with abandonment issues) it was honestly just so disappointing so me and the friend who introduced it to me decided to rewrite it! (I will not be animating nor do I plan on doing more than MAYBE a comic or art piece here and there because my chronic pain ridden ass can not handle that much lol)

The main goals are to:

1) Flesh out characters that aren't Carmen and actually give them reactions based on their lived experiences and how they might realistically react instead of what the show needed to move the plot along

2) Having characters other than Carmen be actually relevant to the plot the main one being Chase Devineaux who we're gonna kind of have as a parallel to Carmen (trust me yall) as kind of a "What if Carmen didn't have her friends/family to ground her and fall back on" but for all the Chase fans out there (gods I hope there's some other than me) he will be getting a happy ending but bro is getting put through the RINGER first

3) Have both A.C.M.E (now standing for Administration for Containing and Monitoring Evil) and V.I.L.E be the bad guys. Also just as an extra bit of fun we're making VILE a full blown cult, they were very cult like in the show so we're just gonna make it one. Both are going to be very morally questionable and while it'll take a bit longer for ACME to show it's true colors don't you worry they definitely will ;)

4) We're doing canonical lgbtq+ rep, I know the show teased a lot of relationships and really only gave yall background gays not to say thats bad but we can do better than just a brief shot of a damn taco truck. I mean like come on in a story about a young woman going against the government for the greater good why not put some rep into it ya know!

5) We're making it light sci-fi, not like SUPER high tech but definitely beyond what we've got currently, as shown with Carmen's prosthetic, and don't worry I'm doing my research as a disabled person I know how it feels to be misrepresented or ignored so I want to make sure I'm being realistic

6) PLAYER ISN'T GOING TO BE A CHILD! I don't know if this bothered anybody else but to me it was really weird that this 16 year old's only friends were in their 20s!

Alright I think that's what I'm gonna say for now, I'd love it if yall tuned in for updates if your curious since this is a passion project for me and my friend and we're having a blast writing it!

As always I am still working on stuff for Ninjago cause I could never abandon my one true love, currently there's a Pixal drawing in progress (it's giving me hell T-T) something for Cole and Geo, and something of Sora MAYBE even Euphrasia if I'm feeling up to it.

Having said that I hope yall have a great day/night and PEACE OUT!

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandeigo fanart #redraw #rewrite #character design #Lowkey kind of an original piece of art at this point but OH WELL #lesbian #gay #lgbtqia #carmen sandiego ivy #carmen sandiego zack #chase devineaux #julia argent #We're changing a few surname/giving characters surnames btw #disability #art #digital art

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sensualnoiree · 1 year ago

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astro notes: jupiter through the houses pt.4

Symbolizing wisdom, luck, and spiritual growth, Jupiter guides us through journeys of abundance and higher learning. As it rules Sagittarius and Pisces, and co-rules Pisces with Neptune, its reach extends to philosophical pursuits, foreign travel, and spiritual exploration. From its exaltation in Cancer to its debilitation in Capricorn, Jupiter's placement illuminates our beliefs, aspirations, and sense of justice. Throughout this exploration of Jupiter's journey through the houses, we unravel its transformative power and guiding light, embracing its blessings of prosperity, abundance, and divine guidance.

Jupiter in the 10th House:

With Jupiter gracing your tenth house of career and public recognition, you are blessed with a strong sense of purpose and a deep desire to make a positive impact in the world. Your leadership abilities are strong, and you may find that you are drawn to positions of authority or influence where you can inspire and empower others.

Success in your career is likely with Jupiter in the tenth house, especially in fields such as education, law, or spirituality. You may find that you are respected and admired by your peers, and that you are able to achieve your goals with relative ease. Your optimism and self-confidence are infectious, and you may find that you are able to inspire others to believe in themselves and reach for their dreams.

However, it's important to guard against the tendency to become overly ambitious or power-hungry in your pursuit of success. With Jupiter's influence here, there may be a temptation to prioritize external recognition and material wealth over more meaningful measures of fulfillment and happiness. Remember to stay true to your values and principles, and to use your influence and resources for the greater good.

Overall, Jupiter in the tenth house blesses you with success, prosperity, and recognition in the public sphere. Embrace the blessings of leadership and achievement, and use them to create a positive impact in your community and beyond.

Jupiter in the 11th House:

With Jupiter gracing your eleventh house of social connections and community involvement, you are blessed with a wide network of friends and acquaintances who support and inspire you on your journey. Your social circle is diverse and eclectic, and you may find that you are drawn to people from all walks of life who share your ideals and values.

Your ability to connect with others and build meaningful relationships is one of your greatest strengths. You may find that you are a natural leader within your social group, and that you are able to rally others around common goals and aspirations. Your optimism and enthusiasm are infectious, and you may find that you are able to inspire others to join you in making a positive difference in the world.

Community involvement is especially favored with Jupiter in the eleventh house, and you may find that you are drawn to causes and organizations that promote social justice and equality. Your generosity knows no bounds, and you may find fulfillment in giving back to your community and making a difference in the lives of others.

However, it's important to guard against the tendency to become overly idealistic or unrealistic in your expectations of others. With Jupiter's influence here, there may be a temptation to believe that everyone shares your vision and values, and to become disillusioned when reality falls short of your expectations. Remember to celebrate the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist within your social circle, and to embrace the opportunities for growth and learning that come from engaging with people who are different from yourself.

Overall, Jupiter in the eleventh house blesses you with a rich tapestry of social connections, community involvement, and opportunities for growth and expansion. Embrace the blessings of friendship and collaboration, and use them to create a brighter, more inclusive world for yourself and those around you.

Jupiter in the 12th House:

With Jupiter gracing your twelfth house of spirituality and transcendence, you are blessed with a deep sense of inner peace and a profound connection to the divine. Your spiritual journey is one of profound depth and significance, leading you to explore the mysteries of existence and the nature of the soul.

Your intuition is strong, and you may find that you are able to tap into hidden realms of wisdom and insight that lie beyond the realm of ordinary perception. Your dreams are vivid and prophetic, offering guidance and illumination on your path to self-discovery and enlightenment.

Charity and compassion are central to your sense of purpose, and you may find fulfillment in acts of selfless service and devotion to others. Your empathy knows no bounds, and you may find that you are drawn to support those who are suffering or marginalized in society. Your ability to offer comfort and solace to others is a gift that brings light and healing to the world.

However, it's important to guard against the tendency to become overly escapist or avoidant in your approach to life. With Jupiter's influence here, there may be a temptation to retreat into fantasy or illusion as a means of avoiding the harsh realities of existence. Remember to stay grounded in reality and to face your fears and challenges with courage and determination.

Overall, Jupiter in the twelfth house blesses you with spiritual insight, inner peace, and a deep sense of compassion for all beings. Embrace the blessings of transcendence and enlightenment, and use them to bring light and healing to yourself and the world around you.

follow for more astro insights like this and support me over on instagram @sensualnoire or yt @quenysefields

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astrobei · 1 year ago

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hi i love your fics and I was wondering if you had any byler fic recs

thanks

hello there! in all honesty, i have not had the time to read a lot of byler fic as of late, but it’s been a while since i posted some recs so i’ll drop a few that i’ve enjoyed recently! as always, i do endorse every fic in my bookmarks to the highest possible degree, so always feel free to look through those for new reading as well <3

say it with your hands by pseudologia (@hellfiremike) — will is a new employee at the movie theater mike works at, and mike starts thirsting over will’s hands to a degree that’s downright detrimental to his employment status

GOD. this fic. i gushed in their dms immediately after finishing it because this might be my favorite modern will characterization of all time, and this is coming from someone who has a million and one takes on modern era will byers. this fic just checked all of my boxes — from the summertime romance to mike’s painfully in-character teenage angsting to will being a frequenter of star wars reddit threads and an enjoyer of sufjan stevens. and the TENSION. oh god the tension. i’ve read all their fics probably three times over each, and i also highly recommend like i am home again, a college au set during a halloween party which made me stare at my phone refreshing ao3 hourly until it updated, and can this be a real thing (can it?) wherein mike and will reunite in a gay bar. enough said

landslide by chamb3rs — the party’s senior year of high school

i don’t often reach for chaptered fics since i usually have such limited reading time, but i’m sooo so so happy i stumbled across this one. there have just been very few fics that have touched me like this one did. i blew through this in one sitting a few weekends ago and subsequently experienced the full range of human emotions (and then some) all in the span of a few hours. everything about this was perfect — the will pov, the weird liminality of transitional periods, the party and byhop family dynamics, down to my favorite portrayal of theeeee jennifer hayes in any fic ever. on top of all of that, this fic perfectly captures the heartbreaking euphoria of being in love with your best friend, and all the ups and downs that come with it. i crawled out of the ao3 tab covered in blood and my chest was hurting and i was shaking and i had damn near chewed my own arm off — and then i sent the link to my friend 10 minutes later and watched her experience the same exact thing like a train wreck in slow-mo HAHAHA

what a time to be alive by passerine_in_jade (@newlesbianprideflag) — will disappears and haunts mike from the upside down

i’m forever a total sucker for a good haunting metaphor, so it’s absolutely not a surprise that this fic is appearing on this list. the premise for this was so so so cool and interesting, and it’s another chaptered fic i’m glad i had a little extra time to read. the way the author had me rooting for mike and will the whole time even though half of the pairing was offscreen for a large majority of the fic is a highly commendable feat. mike’s unyielding loyalty to will and will’s constant faith in him felt so true to their canon selves, and there were so many moments that were so quiet and intimate and tender that i really felt like i was intruding on something. good good stuff

that’s what you get for falling in love by harriet_vane — will gets his first boyfriend in college, and mike, ever the ally, has very normal feelings about it

i want to preface this by saying that this fic is rated m, mostly just for mentions/allusions to sex, and one largely non-explicit portion of a scene in the last chapter. if that’s not your cup of tea, it’s easy to tell when it’s coming up and to skip past it without detracting from the plot, but i think it would be a greater detriment to not rec this fic at all, because it has quickly made the list of my favorite byler fics of all time. something about this take on jealous mike especially resonated with me — his inner monologue is simultaneously hilarious and depressing, and his obliviousness regarding his feelings for will feels so true to life without being overdone or cartoonish. you can tell just how much they really care for each other, and the conflict in this actually made me start crying because it felt so visceral and so fundamentally them. you can tell this author really understands their characters, and the love put into this fic is soooo palpable. it’s the kind of fic where you want to bonk their heads together to knock some sense into them, but you are helpless to do anything but hold on as you’re swung along for the ride.

finally, i try not to just rec fics written by my friends, but my recent reading list would be incomplete without these two wonderful additions:

the way you love me by strangeswift (@strangeswift) — byler exes (absolutely heartwrenching edition)

i’ve been hearing abby talk about her ideas for this fic for the better part of a year as she worked on it, and she actually edited and posted the first two chapters while i was visiting her! and by god is this world a better place with her byler exes concept in it, because if you want angst, you’ll never have to look further than her ao3 page. something about the way she writes will in this fic just makes my heart shrivel up and die in my chest — his quiet resignation, the bitterness (always love a good bitter will byers moment) and the Longing that never quite went away. mike’s characterization is also top notch, and you can really feel the chemistry between them during every interaction. at the time of me posting this list, chapter 4 is not yet up, but trust me when i tell you guys it’s going to soooooo be worth it. :-)

the end is here by bookinit (@bookinit02) — a speculative byler-centric season 5

if you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that haven’s canon rewrite series is hands-down my favorite series across any pairing and fandom. her creativity with her season 5 concepts never fails to astound me — from the scripts she’s been working on as an alternative to the episodes she rewrote for s1-4, to her ideas for possible plot lines, and just incredible writing all around. i’ve had the privilege of reading through her scripts before she posts them to her blog (definitely go check them out) but special privilege bias aside, it takes soooo much skill to create such a visually powerful story in a medium that allows for such little narration, and the corresponding chapters just totally pushes it over the edge. pre-s5 required reading for every byler, and 100000% my new canon if the show doesn’t pan out

this definitely is not an exhaustive list because i have a million and one fics on my to-read, and one day i will get around to reading them all, but i hope there is something on this list that strikes your fancy!!

#mutuals specifically there are so many fics i need to catch up on im sorry #once i’m done w school im coming for you all truly #anyways i hope there are some here you guys like! sorry it’s not the longest list and sorry i babbled #actually no i’m not #i have a lot of feelings abt fics i like.#these r all fics that likeeeeee. make me want to Write #which is the highest compliment i can personally bestow #byler #byler fic rec #suni reads

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theeternalwombtarot · 2 years ago

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what will your marriage be like 💍

I’d been thinking about how much humans fight and disagree but the one thing we have in common is the love we share for things around us. For people in our lives. We have wars, we fall into different categories politically, we have different souls purposes, we have different needs, different desires. But most often, what we do share, what we all desire is to love and to be loved. So anyways, here’s the reading for today. I’m working on trying to crimp out two readings a day or within the week.

***

channelled music 🎵:

There Is Something on Your Mind- Big Jay McNeely

Misty- Ella Fitzgerald

At Last- Beyoncé’s cover from the Cadillac record’s soundtrack

I Wonder Why- Dion & The Belmonts

Stormy Weather- Etta James

A Sunday Kind Of Love- Etta James

Channeled locations 📍: Vancouver, New Orleans, San Francisco, New York city, Maine, South Carolina, Seattle

I see this being a marriage with someone you knew in the past whom you had a true love with that you may have had to walk away from or put down for a while in the name of growth or internal alignment. Like right person wrong time. Of course that doesn’t exist spiritually because all the time is the right time, divine timing is always right but you know what I mean. I see happiness and genuine joy within this marriage with this person. I see two people celebrating their marriage and their love and what it took to get them there every single day of their lives together like you know that drake song where he says “it might not mean nothing to y’all, but understand nothing was done for me, so I don’t plan on stopping at all, I want this sh*t forever.” The two of you put a lot of work in for yourselves for this connection, this connection was divinely orchestrated. All the pain, all the hardship, all the separation was for the greater good so you guys can grow and have the divine love you wanted.

Everyone’s gonna be looking at the two of you. I see you guys glowing, I see the two of you rising to success in each-others love and in each-others presence. There’s so much self love and confidence between the two of you. It’s giving power couple, it’s giving when two people in a connection are very attractive and have a lot going for themselves. Everyone wants to look at them, everyone wants in on their connection and the love they share, everyone aspires to have that one day. I’m hearing Beyoncé, “so many people that I know, they just tryna touch ya. Kiss up, and rub up, and feel up on ya. Give you some time to prove that I can trust you again I’m gonna kiss up, and rub up, and feel up, kiss up, and rub up and feel up on ya”

I get heavy feminine energy within this group. Some of you are involved with a masculine or this masculine from your past is someone who is very desired or that people will desire even more when you guys come together and wed. This masculine could’ve been someone who clung to romantic/sexual company in his past for some time out of insecurity with me getting something from Beyoncé’s lyrics about getting time to prove she can trust someone again so she can really love on them and I think that’s kind of the energy of this connection. The two of you rising out of karmic cycles and habits and finally growing up and coming out of the storm to be the people you two need for each other and being able to share the most divine love and forgive the past and have peace.

Yea, the king of cups is coming out, this is my favorite masculine in tarot. This is a masculine whose caring and compassionate and loving. Emotionally in tune, in connection with his own inner feminine. He’s the embodiment of a healed water sign masc lover in my opinion. Some of you could want a water sign partner or have water in your own chart and need someone who can appeal to your needs in that way. And this is going to be the relationship, open, caring, gentle, and supportive and this person will be that as well. I see this marriage or this union being a personal celebration for you pile one, maybe even for your significant other as well. You guys have worked so hard and this is your reward or your personal idea of success and fulfillment to be with this person and share a life with eachother.

All the stagnancy, all the pain, will be gone from your lives and from this connection. You guys struggled individually and as a collective and I hear spirit saying that now you deserve someone to be happy and abundant with. This person is gonna be really good in bed as well, their going to keep you over the top satisfied. I see you guys having very passionate and loving s*x lives and maybe even potentially creating a large family together. Like if you’ve ever seen queen Charlotte where she’s telling her kids that her and George created all the many children they had all by themselves without any help. You guys give queen Charlotte and king George vibes. Love is so deep and real and unconditional despite obstacles or obvious flaws within one another. You love eachother through it all. Regardless of it all and that’s all that matters. Go watch queen Charlotte on Netflix if you haven’t man. Ugh. It’s so good.

Yess, this ten of Pentacles upright here speaking of wealth, long term success, and family !!! I see you guys becoming very wealthy together as well, being able to give your children and yourselves good, long, prosperous lives. So beautiful. You and this person may end up having a lot of children together as well. I see you guys getting to work. Someone carries the energy of the empress, or the divine mother here. You could have a cancer moon or some prominent cancer placements in your chart. This person is gonna load you up, keep you pregnant like clock work. Everyone is gonna be tired of y’all like damn do you really need another baby shower this year too.

Overall success and abundance with this ace of pentacles proud and upright. Very good.

***

ii.

channeled music 🎵:

Drunk In Love- Beyoncé

Adorn- Miguel

Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton

Ooo Baby Baby- Smokey Robinson & the miracles

channeled locations 📍: Texas, Little Rock Arkansas, California, Alabama, Connecticut, North Dakota, New Hampshire, Georgia, Philadelphia, Country sides and suburbs,, Canada

You may meet this person at a rough time in your life or at a time where you may have isolated yourself from others or stepped into some sort of hermit mode. This could be after some sort of heart break or some type of significant life experience that causes a lot of insecurity and self limiting beliefs to come to the surface to be purged or be removed. A dark night of the soul or some sort of right of passage towards your ascension with this eight of swords upright speaking of negative thoughts and imposed restriction here. I’m getting this pain or this isolation and hurt may be caused by your spouse or your significant other. But there’s a lot of change and transformation here with the death card upright. Cycles ending. There’s a lot of mixed energy here for this part of the collective. I’m getting some of you may be coming out of rough relationships and being burned repeatedly in love and mistreated and pushed into a path of learning and healing and some of you may end up marrying someone or are married to someone who doesn’t have good intentions towards you and that you may separate from and grow into yourselves because of.

You may have an astrology placements that indicate complications and love and long term relationships. You could potentially get married early and get divorced due to turbulence or general just lack of happiness and harmony within your marriage. But whatever this downfall is or whatever this drama or turbulence is will lead you down the path of releasing limiting self beliefs and embarking on your own personal spiritual journey and path to self love which will bring in a greater love and a true love for you later in life when the time is right here. This person that you’ll find yourself married or committed to in the beginning, some type of truth will come out about them that will lead to this not working out.

But, this new love that blossom and come from your ending in your first connection or marriage will further propel you into soul searching and really finding out who you are and becoming secure in yourself here. This is going to be someone whose going to benefit you, whose going to compliment you and push you to be a better person and continue to heal and improve. You could have similar chart placements as Ariana grande or relate to her love life in some way. She’s known for having somewhat of a turbulent love life or to have issues within her personal relationships.

***

iii.

channeled music 🎵:

Valerie - Amy winehouse

Beggin’ - Maneskin

Hey ya - outkast

Milk - Kings of Leon

Creep - Radiohead

Cherry wine - Hozier

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

channeled locations 📍: Brooklyn, Chicago, San Diego, San Francisco, Colorado, Oregon, St. Helens Oregon, Washington, New York City, Long Beach California

I’m getting that some of your are masculine energies, masculine energy dominant or are literally men lol. I keep hearing over and over the opening lyrics to Hey ya by OutKast.

The song Hey Ya is a really chaotic and high energy song we all know that but there’s an artist on TikTok who has a beautiful soft cover of the song and i feel like it really captures the energy I’m getting from these lyrics. Link to her TikTok.

You could marry someone you feel really anxious or worried about your connection with. I hear someone worried about losing their person or losing this person in particular. Many of you will marry someone you know already or someone who plays a massive part in your life or who shaped what love means and what love meant for you. Spirit is telling me that this person and this connection was given to you to to you to test your strength and push you to become the person you were meant to be become all along because this person inspires you to grow and go the extra mile in life.

This person gives you hope, you may feel as though your purpose in life is to love this person because they inspire you so heavily. This person may trigger some sort of spiritual awakening for you or lead you down a journey of self discovery and soul searching as well. I see this person teaching you and allowing you to release your fears and open up your heart. Someone’s heart chakra could be blocked or has been closed off for a long time due to trauma and other issues. This marriage with this person will be full of clear communication, in depth conversations, and clear and healthy boundaries and ideas. This person could create a safe space for you or a safe environment. I see you and this person becoming an example of what a harmonious and healthy relationship is meant to look like. You out of anybody knows what it feels like to be in unhealthy relationships or have a turbulent and draining relationship dynamic with someone I’m hearing and this is not that. This relationship will be a breath of fresh air for you.

I see you being someone who is anxious in energy or is prone to pessimistic ideas or thinking due to your anxiety as well. Like the second something positive happens with this person especially if you know this person already your mind finds a way to push you away from them out of fear of becoming too comfortable or too vulnerable and then leaving you or pulling away from you but I don’t see this with this person with the four of wands upright. This person loves you unconditionally, you can’t lose something that’s unconditionally. That’s gentle and that doesn’t judge you or intend to hurt you the way that people may have in the past.

I’m hearing it took someone a while to come forward and take the leap of faith to pursue this relationship because they couldn’t decide if they were worth this persons love and time or if they were strong enough to handle this person rejecting you or walking away from you because you felt that they would and that they would wake up one day and realize that they don’t want you anymore or feel burdened by you. But I see you looking at this connection when you guys are married and the rough part of the push and pull that you feel in regards to this person blows over and you being proud and abundant because this relationship is long term, steady, and giving.

This person is made for you, your relationship and connection is very divinely protected and orchestrated pile three. And all of this will be revealed to you more and more as years progress within this marriage here. You and this person are incredibly connected on an intuitive and spiritual level you share so much love and compassion for one another as well. You think yourself less than this person or someone who doesn’t deserve this persons love and presence and that’s simply not true. I hear spirit saying if anyone deserves this person, if anyone is made for this person, if anyone deserves a love or connection like this it’s you.

That’s it, lol I might take a break from love readings for a moment because the collective is very steady and my readings can often be repetitive but many of people within the collective are about to get married or be in the most divine love within their life. A good amount of the collective is still learning what love means and it may take them a while to find that but otherwise everyone is exactly where they’re meant to be. 💕

#self love #self care #self improvement #self discovery #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine collective #love reading #love tarot reading #marriage love reading #tarot readers of tumblr #tarot readers of instagram #tarot readers of TikTok #pick a pile #pick a card

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