#This is largely supernatural’s fault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

traegorn · 6 months

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Okay. So I got a super long ask that is... a lot. And it's anon, so I can't respond privately -- but I want to address it.

Y'see, sometimes I get asks which I'm pretty sure get sent to me just because I'm a witch who happens to publicly exist on the internet. Like the person sending it to me doesn't seem to be someone who's familiar with the kind of stuff I say -- or else they probably wouldn't have sent it to me to begin with. And they ask me for advice or help though. So I feel like I want to give it still.

But it's probably not the advice they think they want.

Let's see how this one starts:

So this is how it starts. Now the first thing you might be asking yourself is "When has Trae ever talked about 'demons' online?"

The answer is never. This is not a thing Trae talks about. Frankly, I don't even like the word, because it frames the supernatural world in a very Christo-centric viewpoint. Like I believe in noncorporeal things and "energy-shit," and I believe those things can be malevolent -- but calling them "demons" invites a framework I literally do not believe exists.

(You can think whatever you want -- I'm not in charge of you. I do think plenty of witches need to unpack their Christian upbringings though)

The other problem with the "which demon" line is that it implies some sort of authoritative list exists that wasn't just some jackass occultist writing down everything he could think of to piss off some Christians -- or some Christian pissed at some non-Christians trying to other and villainize them. These two kinds of people are largely where 99% of those lists come from.

If a noncorporeal being exists, and if it's malevolent, and if it's "attached" to someone... it's just some guy, y'know? This isn't some grand story. When someone gets mauled by a bear, we don't say "But it was Lord Ursus! King of all Bears!"

Nah. It's just "that bear over there ate Bob's face." We might name it then -- "That Face-Eater" -- but it's not special.

Anyways. That's just the first paragraph. There's so much more, I'm going to put in a cut.

Okay. So... The person "Dabbles." You know I'm a witch, right? And that I literally promote people dabbling? Like I want folks to try stuff out. And like when y---wait, SUCCUBUS? I read that, right? You think she's a literal succubus.

Can she shape shift like in that Piers Anthony book?

This is where I kind of immediately fell off. Like, no ma'am -- she is not a succubus. She might be a shitty or manipulative person, I don't know - I just have your account of things, but she's not a literal succubus.

Human being. She is a human being. I don't even know what "creates deceit and deception" is supposed to mean. Are you saying she lies to them? Or are you saying she makes them want to lie? Because those are very different. If it's the former, okay -- liars lie. Got it. If it's the latter... nah. That is not happening. If they're lying, then it's their own damned fault.

And like... I don't want to dismiss the concept that a malevolent being can't attach itself to someone, because I've... seen shit I don't talk about. But, like, they don't make people do shit. People do shit all on their own.

If you're to be believed, it just sounds like you're dealing with a manipulative jackass. No external paranormal shit required.

But we continue:

So I dated this person for a while, and she was great when we were the only people in the room. Like when it was me and her, the person she acted like made me fall in love with her.

But the moment a third person entered the room, she would become someone else. She was sharper, meaner, and more defensive. She wasn't the same person.

We broke up for a lot of reasons, but this certainly made it easier.

You're right, this isn't DID. This is just normal, human shit. We become different people at different times. And sometimes the better version we think we see in someone else isn't the true version of them at all, or at least it's only a part of them.

And sometimes when someone changes in a way you don't like in a different context, it's not always the context's fault.

You need to define "portal." Different people use that word for different stuff.

And I see we're moralizing drug addiction. Great. Awesome. Horse is preeeeeeetty high there for someone going to random witches on the internet for advice.

And, like, ma'am (I've been assuming you use she/her from the context of this -- but I'm sorry if I'm wrong), you're asking a witch this and bringing up tarot and talking to spirits and... like... that stuff's normal for like 80% of the people I talk to on a daily basis. None of those people have "demons" attached to them.

It's a weird thing to bring up as "proof."

I feel like you've forgotten what community you've come to with your issue.

So, nothing affects them. Could it be, and I want you to consider this, that it's because nothing supernatural is happening.

There are so many details that I'm missing here, so I can't be sure of the actual dynamics at play, but what you're describing to me sounds like an incredibly mundane, human scenario.

Like, it literally just sounds like you're describing an incredibly unhealthy home -- and I'm not even sure if that's true since I just have your version of events. I don't even know the ages of the people involved. You have given zero indications of anything out of the ordinary happening that isn't explained by "one or more manipulative people are somehow involved in this story and it's unclear which ones they are."

This is not a "demon." What you've described is just dysfunction.

#witch #witchcraft #witchblr

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

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some smallishsona social links i've thought up:

XIII (DEATH): zombiecleo. i know this is the obvious choice but also i'm not immune to obvious choices. cleo is a "florist" that joe knows. florist is in the world's biggest scare quotes; between the fact they're the one who's willing to give the team weapons and fence stuff they got from the other world, and also the conspicuous full-body burn scars, joel is VERY willing to bet that cleo is not, in fact, a florist. he's not stupid though. he's not about to like, ask if she's in the yakuza or something. because then they would kill him. he is ALREADY unwillingly at constant risk of death by shadow monster, he doesn't need yakuza coming after him, thanks.

cleo's social link starts out about their begrudging willingness to do joe a favor by handing high-schoolers various weaponry, but also their continued attempts to explain that they're making a mistake. (joel KNOWS okay it's not HIS fault there's a demon in his head and his life is full of tarot cards now, give him a break.) however, as the social link continues, it reveals details of cleo's life, the story of how they ended up with those burn scars, and how they can move past the tragedies of their past.

V (HIEROPHANT) xisuma. this one feels a little obvious, went back and forth on whether this should be tfc instead but landed on xisuma. a man joel meets in a tea shop who is very concerned about joel's mental state, considering how joel came to town in the first place. joel thinks this is extremely rude, thanks, especially since if it hadn't been for the fact it was tea, not alcohol, joel would be half-convinced xisuma had been trying to drink his problems away.

the social link focuses on xisuma trying to mentor joel very badly, and also the reveal that part of why xisuma is so concerned for joel is that he wants to make up for his failures to take care of his younger brother. at the end of the social link, xisuma starts to reconcile with his brother and family, and joel maybe reluctantly admits it's nice to have an adult with nothing supernatural going on with them that's somewhat concerned for him. not that he needs supervision or anything, but...

XVI (TOWER): doc. was going through the suggestions people gave me and was surprised to realize just how UBIQUITOUS this was as a suggestion. however, yeah, this fits his character archetype to a t. doc is a disgraced scientist who is willing to give joel his inventions to test; joel's courage social stat needs to be like a 4 before he can even initiate this social link, and joel first finds out about doc from rumors in town about a madman scientist who got someone killed in a lab accident. the inventions provide various perks in battle, though, and frankly by the point in the story joel has high enough courage to start this one his attitude is starting to become "fuck it we ball", so.

doc's social link starts with doc leaning into his terrifying reputation. however, as the social link continues, it becomes clear doc is actually trying to make a working version of his clean fuel generator that couldn't possibly ever cause an explosion like the one he faced again. in the end, it's revealed the original design was sabotaged, and there was nothing doc could have done to prevent the tragedy--except, maybe, be willing to share his plans with others to catch the sabotage, because joel helps doc figure that out.

this social link MAYBE has some thematic relevance. don't worry about it.

I (MAGICIAN): scar. one of joel's earliest social links and teammates, i'm debating if he was one of the people who was teamed with grian before joel arrived. scar himself has a largely magic-based garu persona. he's also the party's early healer, although he later gets supplanted in this role when impulse joins as the actual party healer, and his build is actually more focused on heavy-hitting magic and status effects. (think ann, or reload mitsuru). i think if i go with my current theme for the team's personas (mythological lovers/mythological figures related to love or bonds), i might make his persona majnun?

anyway, he's very VERY scar, a fast-talking, smooth-playing, optimistic kind of guy, who DEFINITELY won't end up having a mid-story breakdown about whether or not he's wanted or needed on the team, absolutely not, no way, it's not like that's the magician's role in a persona game or anything. as a social link i think scar's social link is about him dragging joel into his school black market schemes and the two of them hitting it off during this, but also, a bit, about scar confiding his loneliness and feelings of inadequacy as something more than the comic relief. he's one of the earliest available social links, second only to skizz, and ends up being one of joel's closest links, magical tarot powers be damned.

VII (CHARIOT): skizzleman. joel's earliest social link, who develops a persona thanks to joel having to rescue him from the other world. a cheerful, friendly guy with a slight sense of distance under the surface, skizz works to keep himself strong and the people around him happy, sometimes to the point of excluding his own emotions. he's an agi user, although his persona is largely focused on physical skills rather than magic (he's the team's physical heavy-hitter), and i might make his persona patrolcus? (all of these personas are things you can argue with me, btw.)

skizz's social link is about him trying to find ways to lighten the moods of the other people in joel and skizz's apartment building who were moved in there because they didn't have elsewhere to stay, and his ability to remain cheerful despite often being rejected in this. it's also a social link about digging more into the history that lead to skizz feeling alone enough to be Vanished and in need of rescue. because he's so plot-central in that way, though, his actual SOCIAL LINK is more lighthearted shenanigans about the various schemes skizz comes up with to try to get other people to cheer up, and eventually ends with joel and the others turning it around to give skizz that same cheerful stuff.

anyway these are the guys i've definitively assigned to what social link now i am having SO MUCH FUN with this au,

#smallishsona au #you'll note some of these guys are more thematically relevant to the plot than actually plot relevant. yep! that's how persona works.#doc and x serve as 'these guys help hammer in the themes'#cleo... is actually plot relevant.#and skizz and scar are about the typical party-member arcs for those specific arcana.

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onyourowndaisymae · 8 months

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an unofficial pact mark

content + warnings: fluff, implied romantic simeon x reader but can be read as platonic, minor mentions of jealousy, mc has visible pact marks, mc is tattooed, simeon and mc decide that simeon needs a pact mark too

word count: ~ 800

an angel's wings were always a sight to behold.

there's a fluffiness to an angel's wings that a demon could never quite have. not even lucifer, birdlike as the remnants of his fallen angelhood were, could compare to the sheer weightless charm of the fluttering appendages.

simeon's boyish giggle rang through the open field. a breeze blew through the celestial realm, rustling grass and clothes alike. his cloak was draped over your shoulders, ornamental jewelry clanking like windchimes as your chest shuddered with laughs. the two of you shifted again to put his back to the breeze.

"oh dear, this wind certainly isn't helping."

"don't worry! we'll get the photo!"

you lift the camera up to your eye again. like a sunset or twinkling stars through stacked lenses, the camera can't ever truly capture the radiance of his wings.

they're large, much bigger than you anticipated, fitting for an archangel like him with it's imposing wingspan casting an equally impressive shadow among the wildflowers. rows of fluffy feathers stack on top of one another to create a bountiful expanse of pure white beauty. they rustle unconsciously against the wind. they are such a graceful extension of the angel you loved-- although he was a little bashful to have such interest for a part of himself he usually kept tucked away, simeon lets you gawk as much as you wanted between attempts to get the perfect reference shot.

but back to the issue at hand.

it became apparent to you somewhere along the line that simeon was a bit jealous of your pact marks. something about the brothers having a sort of claim over you made the angel frown, gaze tracing over the visible marks with displeasure when you sat together watching movies at purgatory hall. it was even longer before he voiced this to you. it wasn't so much that he didn't want you to be close to the others-- although sometimes maybe it was like that, even if he didn't say it-- simeon was jealous of the way they all got to leave their mark on you without him. angels didn't make pacts like demons, so there was no physical proof of simeon's devotion to you.

seems unfair. he'd never complain to you about it, though, because there wasn't anything you could do about it. ... right?

silly supernatural creatures. their minds always went to extraordinary solutions of magic and sorcery. never once did they consider some of the more "primitive" solutions to their dilemmas, but that's what you were there for.

click!

the shutter snaps loudly. you pull back and glance at the screen. it's blurry, like all the others, but that's not anyone's fault. the radiance of his supernatural features is hard to capture on film, magical or not-- there was simply no way you'd get a clear shot... but the one you got was pretty cute.

he's grinning, hand up to cover his eyes from the sunlight permeating each inch of the heavenly realm. his wings are outstretched into the empty field, blurred by angelic magic on the camera, but clear enough to recognize as his own. you can't help but smile. it's a good picture. you can already picture your tattoo artist filling in the blanks with delicate shading and shapely linework.

"i think we've got it."

simeon wades through the field to curl up against your side, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"it's a little blurry... will that be good enough?"

"we'll make it work."

a call, a wad of cash, that blurry reference photo, and a quick visit to the human world later-- you had a makeshift pact mark to show your favorite angel.

the pain of the needles had long since ceased, leaving your skin to heal through time and various unscented lotions. the pain was not new to you, yet each new tattoo always drew "ooo"s and "ahh"s from those closest to you. this time, it's simeon gawking over you, gloved hands carefully holding your arm and grinning at the delicate lines embedded in your skin.

"gorgeous," he murmurs.

the tattoo didn't capture the full grandeur of his wings. that wasn't the artist's fault-- nothing could replicate the vision of seeing his beautiful wings in person. but the inked image on your inner bicep clearly pleased the angel next to you.

"now i always have you with me, too," you coo quietly, not wanting to interrupt how deeply he's admiring the art on your skin.

"did it hurt?" he asks.

"a little. but nothing i can't handle."

his thumb rubs against the nearby skin. the grin on his face is contagious-- now you're smiling, too.

"thank you for this," he murmurs, eyes glittering in the warm light of your room. "i can't tell you how much it means to me."

you can't help but press a soft kiss against his temple and nuzzle in close, rubbing your nose against his cheekbone to make him laugh.

"anything for my favorite angel."

#the simeon brainrot is starting to chip away at me #he deserves the world and i intend to give it to him #i just love wholesome simeon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me fluff #otome

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brummiereader · 11 months

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We have come to the end of Y/N and Tommy's whirlwind of a love story. I want to thank each and every one of you for your likes, comments and reblogs, i have been overwhelmed by the support you have given this series. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you enjoyed the last part, if it ended how you thought it would, etc. Thank you once again, you are all truly amazing!

PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART TEN)

Summary: Both in their separate times Tommy and the reader come to terms with being apart. Will they ever find happiness again? Will they ever find eachother again?

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes, suicidal thoughts

Authors note: The letter to Y/N is heavily influenced by the song "Francesca" by Hozier. A song I listened to nonstop while writing this final part.

I could do it, he thought to himself as he stood in his office looking out the window. Right here, right now. She'd find me in the abandoned building, then we could be together, reunited, just like before. He imagined to himself as he turned around to look at the gun lying on his wooden desk, he was so tempted. It had been exactly thirty days since he last saw you, thirty days since he broke your heart along with his own. He was alive yes, but he felt dead, incomplete, empty, more than he ever had. Grazing his hand over the barrel of the gun he breathed in sharply, closing his eyes only to see your face staring back at him, haunting him.

"Y/N..." he said quietly, as he began to pick up the gun.

"Thomas Shelby!" Polly shouted as she barged through his office doors, anger on her face. Dropping the gun, Tommy turned around away from her.

"Tommy, you need to stop this!" she said approaching him. " You can't do that to her" she added as she walked around his desk.

" What difference does it make? She's not here Polly" he tried to make sense to her as he grabbed his coat, storming off out of his office. Watching her nephew walk out the door she took the gun from his desk emptying the chamber as she watched the bullets fall one by one onto the floor below her.

" Not yet" she said as she placed the gun back into his desk draw, only to see a letter addressed to you in Tommy's hand writing. A small smile formed on her lips as she adjusted her coat. What had Polly not told Tommy that night?

Sitting in the large chair by your bedroom window, you looked out at the view. Closing your eyes, you wondered what Tommy was doing, was he moving on? Was he even thinking about you? Your life was falling apart, you had dropped out of Uni, you and your roommate were barely talking, you hadn't visited any family in weeks. The only thing you did do, was go to work and come back. That was your new routine, you hadn't even gone back to the abandoned building nor had you visited the old lady. Covering your mouth with your hand you bolted up, running to the toilet. This was the fifth time this had happened in three days. You leaned into the toilet as you threw up for the second time that morning. " This is all your fucking fault Tommy" you said under you breath as you stood up, walking over to the sink to wash your hands. Splashing your face with cold water you looked up at your reflection, you looked a mess. Hair unkempt, dark bags, swollen eyes. Drying your hands, you then threw the small towel at your reflection in the mirror, a satisfied huff leaving your mouth as you walked back to the chair to sit In front of the window once again.

Thirty days, Thirty days since you had last seen him, your heart ached just thinking about it. Clutching the locket around your neck, you closed your eyes as you thought about him, longing for him. He didn't love you, he said it himself right there in that cemetery, cold and heartless he broke your heart in two, and like everything else that had been going wrong, here you was six weeks pregnant, carrying his child. Oh yes, you had forgotten about that part in the throes of passion as Tommy brought you to your high. Too consumed in his own pleasure, Tommy forgot to do one thing...pull out. You almost fainted when you took the test a week ago, you didn't think it was possible. Clearly, even time travel didn't interfere with the unavoidable result of unprotected sex, how could you have been so stupid? Burying your head into your hands you sobbed at the situation you had found yourself in, your life was a mess, alone and pregnant, desperately longing for a man that didn't love you back.

"Fuck!" You shouted as you stood up trying to recompose yourself, " I need to get out of here" you said aloud as you began to dress yourself.

"Tommy" John said as he handed him the book with the weeks takings.

"Leave it there" he said turning to look at his brother as he drank a glass of whiskey. Standing around, John watched as his brother poured himself another.

" You can go" Tommy motioned with his hand to the door as he slammed the bottle down onto the desk .

" Tom..." John said sighing as he walked closer to him. " Why don't you just go make things right with her" he asked his brother.

" Can't do that John, can I now. She's gone far away, far far away " he said as he downed his second glass of whiskey.

" Never seen anyone look at someone the way Y/N did with you" he said as he headed for the door, turning the tooth pick in his mouth.

" And I went and fucked it all up" Tommy mumbled under his breath as he leaned back into his chair, another glass of whiskey in his hand, as he pressed the other to his forehead, the unavoidable heachache beginning to pound in his temples.

Walking aimlessly along the path, your eyes spent of tears, with no destination in mind you walked and walked. Loud trucks passing by caught your attention as you finally looked up. "ROAD BLOCK, DEMOLITION" in capital letters were written across a large triangular panel in front of you. Great, you thought to yourself as you tried to figure out where you was. Continuing down the street you suddenly realised...you was back, back at the abandoned building. You watched as construction men secured the area as a large truck with a bulldozer drove down the road. Panic rising in your body, you climbed over the small plastic fence, racing over to the building.

" No no no, NO!!. What are you doing?" You shouted at the workmen as you ran to the metal gates.

" You need to leave the area love, it's coming down" a man approached you with a clipboard.

" Wha..what!? No you can't do that" you shouted at him in desperation.

" Only following orders" he said as he whistled for the truck to come forward. " We're ready!" he shouted to the driver. " Come on love, you gotta go" he said as he guided you away from the fences. Without thinking you turned around pushing him out the way as you raced to the wooden doors.

" Oi! You can't do that, someone fucking go get her!" the man shouted to his colleagues in frustration.

Sprinting up the old wooden stairs you hurried to Tommy's office closing the door behind you. Running over to his desk, you stopped as you pressed both your palms onto the old rotting wood. "Tommy..." You cried as you called out his name. Walking around his desk you held onto your stomach, tears streaming down your face, as you sat down in his leather chair. Resting your arms on the wooden frame you looked around the room waiting, wishing that at any moment Tommy would appear and hold you in his arms once more. Wiping away your tears you looked down at the desk in front of you, noticing one of the draws slightly agape, you opened it further as you furrowed your brow. Lying there in the old wooden draw was a letter, a letter addressed to you. Picking it up, you sniffed back your tears as you rubbed your blurry eyes. Gasping you brought the letter closer to your face as you suddenly recognised the hand writing. With your heart rapidly beating in your chest, you frantically opened the letter.

" My dearest Y/N,

I write this letter in hope that one day you will read it. Until that day, it will stay here in this draw waiting for you. I never meant what I said that night, I do love you, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. I wanted you to live, and in desperation I said the unthinkable, breaking both our hearts. I pray you forgive me for my cruel and bitter words, I never wanted to hurt you. I remember you once asked me why I wouldn't move on, what it was I was waiting for. I was never waiting for something Y/N, I was waiting for someone, and that someone was you, it has always been you. I would do it all over again for you, If I could hold you for just one more minute darling, I'd go through it all again. I Love you Y/N, and one day I will find you again and hold you in my arms forever, finally. Until that day, I wish you nothing but happiness and that all your hopes and dreams are answered,

Yours always, Tommy x"

Clutching the letter to your heart, you stood up as tears stung your cheeks. Opening the office door you was met with with the same construction worker you had pushed past.

"Right out" he said annoyed "We could call the fucking cops, you know" he continued as he ushered you out the building.

Stepping out onto the road you walked across to the other side of the street in a daze at the words you had just read.

"Y/N?" you heard someone say beside you, as you turned your head.

" Its you!" you said as you approached the old lady, wrapping your arms around her in a tight embrace as you sobbed into her shoulder.

" They're knocking it down" you said as you pointed back to the abandoned building.

" I know dear, come on, come with me, you shouldn't be here in your condition" She said as she walked you along the path to the bus stop.

Twenty minutes later, you was sitting on her sofa with a warm cup of tea in your hand.

"Why are you knocking the building down?" You asked her, scared that the only place left that you felt close to Tommy, about to be destroyed.

" It's time for the next chapter dear" she said looking at you with sympathy.

" But Tommy..." You said, desperately looking at her.

"Tommy's no longer there" She replied, concern in her eyes at your distraught state.

"But he left me this letter in his desk draw, it had been there all this time" you said handing it to her as you sniffed back your tears. Opening it, she smiled as she read Tommy's loving words.

" Why didn't it work, why did I have to leave?" You questioned her as she handed the letter back to you.

" It did work my dear, only it was not completed" she said knowing you could only be talking about one thing.

" But I did everything the way you told me to" you said looking at her confused.

" I know" she smiled as she patted your hand. " You traveled only as a visitor Y/N, I wanted to give you a choice my dear, wanted you to be able to come back, to know what you truly want, with no influence from anyone" she added as she looked into your eyes.

" I..I wanted to stay" you cried, as the elderly lady moved closer to you, wrapping you in her arms. " I need to go back" you said as you wiped your eyes. Holding you in front of her, she tucked your hair behind your ear as she gently nodded her head.

" And that you will" she said, smiling softly to you. " You won't be able to return Y/N" she added, as she looked at you for confirmation. "Once blood is given, it's a binding seal" she said turning your hand over as she traced a line down your palm." Your life line" she said as she pointed it out. "Once you cut through that line, your life in this time ceases to exist, it can't be reversed. It's a choice you need to make with great thought" she explained as she looked at you, anticipating your response

" I'm not living anymore, I feel like a passenger just passing through, not feeling anything, just going through the motions of life" you cried, at the realisation of how empty you felt. " And now there's this letter... I need to go back, back to Tommy, I...I need him to be there, for us" you said as you rested your hand on your stomach. Smiling to you she placed her hand over yours.

"You and your daughter will be with Tommy" she said as a tear formed in the corner of her eye. Tilting your head at her words, she let out a small chuckle.

" Oh my dear, you still don't know who I am, do you?" she said as she reached her hand out to your locket, opening the once jammed necklace with ease as she turned it around to face you.

" My grandfather she said as she pointed at Tommy in the small black and white picture, my mother she said as she pointed at the baby in his arms...my grandmother she said pointing at the woman beside him. Eyes wide you took a closer look at the old photo. There you was looking down at the small baby nestled in Tommy's arms, as he lovingly smiled at you.

"Oh my god .." you said as you looked up at the elderly lady in front of you, tears trickling down her cheeks.

" ...I've known you my whole life" she said with a tearful shaky voice. Reaching out you gently pulled her into your arms.

"' I see it now" you said as you placed your hand on the side of her face. " You have his eyes, and my face, how could I have not noticed" you said shaking your head.

" We often dont notice the things right In front of us" she answered placing her hand over yours. You told me the stories when I was a child. I believed you, I always did. I would have a role in bringing you and Tommy together. I waited for you, for you to go to that antique market. I knew you would be there, because you told me. Aunt Polly taught me the rest, she gave me this necklace before she died" She said as she held onto the black Madonna around her neck.

"She was there at the cemetery, when I went to Tommy" you said looking at her amazed, now understanding how everything had come full circle, all the little pieces fitting together perfectly like a puzzle, everything happening exactly when it was supposed to.

" Yes, in spirit she was there, guiding you forward" she smiled, as she held tightly onto your hand.

" She knew I was coming?"

" Ohh" she chuckled as she looked over to her cupboard full of pictures. " She would do, I told her" she giggled like she was a young child again. " Look" she said as she pointed to one of the photo frames on the old wooden furniture. Standing up you walked over to it.

" It's me and Tommy... on our wedding day" you said as you brought it over to the sofa sitting back down beside her. "This is the photo you put away when I first came here" you said as you looked down at it, your fingers brushing over Tommy face.

" Well, I think that would have been too much of a shock if you would have seen that, don't you?" she smiled, chuckling.

" Nothing shocks me anymore" you laughed along with her. "You know, you have never told me your name?" you queried, as you placed the photo frame down onto the coffee table.

" It's Y/N, after you" she replied as she placed a hand on your knee.

"Y/N" you said smiling to her. "God... this is crazy! " you laughed grinning from ear to ear.

" Us Shelby's never do anything the easy way, we like to complicate our lives" she chuckled as she looked down at the picture frame on her coffee table.

" Come with me" you asked her as you placed your hand on her arm.

" I can't my dear, I have lived my life I can't go back. But yours, yours has only just begun"

For the rest of the night you stayed with the old lady in her Watery Lane home. She told you stories of her childhood, of her mother, of you and Tommy as you both sat there laughing and crying, enjoying your time together as a family. She insisted on going with you the next morning to the cemetery, to say goodbye for one last time or as she put it, to say hello again two decades later. That night as the elderly lady slept you sat at the kitchen table with a pen in your hand. You was going back, but first you needed to say goodbye. You wrote one letter to your boss, one to your friend and the final to your family. You couldn't bring yourself to say goodbye in person and with the full moon beaming over the night sky, you had little time left .You explained in each one that you would be going away indefinitely. You couldn't for obvious reasons explain where you would be going, and why, but you tried with great struggle to write the words you needed to say in hopes that it would comfort them after your departure. Exhausted you went up to Tommy's old bedroom. Laying down on the bed you looked up at the ceiling as you placed a hand on your stomach, gently caressing it.

" Tommy, we're coming to you" you said, eyes slowly closing as you drifted off to sleep.

Laying on his bed Tommy couldn't sleep, his guilt was consuming him. Why did he have to say what he said that night? Leave you thinking he didn't love you, that he didn't want you to stay? Had you found his letter, did you forgive him? He closed his eyes only to see your face once again, memories flooding back to him of how you would smile at him, how your eyes lit up when you would make him laugh, how your lips felt when he softly embraced you, how you felt under his body as he slowly brought you both to your highs. You was to torture him for the rest of his life, never letting him forget, never letting him move on, no matter where he looked he would see you, forever there, a punishment for what he did. Sitting up he brushed his hands through his hair.

"Fuck" he said standing up, as he walked over to his coat and hat. Walking out his Watery Lane home, out into the cold crisp air of the night, with no where to go he walked endlessly through Small Heath, with only one thing on his mind, you.

"This should fit you perfectly" the elderly lady said as she pulled out a long sleeved cream dress that buttoned up all the way to the collar bone, tailored to fit as it delicately flowed down to the knee. "Some shoes" she said pulling out a pair of small black kittens heels. " These used to be my clothes" she added, handing them to you a smile on her face.

" They're perfect "you said as you left her bedroom, heading to the bathroom to get dressed. Brushing your hands down the dress, you stood there in front of the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Could you really do this, leave this life forever?

" Oh my, don't you look beautiful" she smiled as you walked down the stairs into the front room. " Come, we must hurry we don't have much time" she added, handing you a light brown coat she had found. As you was walking out the door you turned around, looking back at the three letters sitting on the kitchen table. Your heart felt heavy with guilt. You was about to leave everything and everyone you had ever known, you prayed they would only understand.

Holding onto your arm, you both walked up the old cemetery path. Memory's of that night flooding back to you as you tried to hold back your tears. Looking around the old cemetery, you made your way up to the top. It was nearly spring, small flowers had started to cover the once empty grass, a thick fog laid low to the ground, obscuring you view as birds chirped happily, welcoming the new season. Each step you took, nerves built up in you stomach, you was scared, scared to do this alone, forever binding yourself to 1922, never to come back.

"Are you sure you cannot come with me?" you asked as you turned to face the elderly lady at the top of the path.

"No my dear, It is only you that can go back. Go to him Y/N, he needs you, he always has" she said as she pulled out a small pearl handled knife, whilst you took out Tommy's pocket watch from your coat. " Do you remember the words I told you last night" she asked as she handed you the knife.

"Yes" you said as a tear started to fall down your cheek. " I'm going to miss you" you said as you held her one last time.

" It's only goodbye for now, only for a little while" she said as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. " Go to him " she said letting go of you, as you stepped away. Wiping your eyes you looked down at the pocket watch, turning the knob back one last time to 19h22. With the knife in your hand you slowly cut the inside of your palm cutting the life line in half, wincing at the sting of the pain. Facing the old lady you smiled to her once last time as she stood there, tears falling down her cheeks. Smiling back, she held onto the black Madonna around her neck, blowing you a loving kiss, she said goodbye. Closing your eyes you thought of Tommy and said the words.

"Send me back I choose this life, I've shed my blood with this pearl handled knife.

I've traveled already through time and space, my haven back in my loves embrace.

Now here my words as I end this spell, I love you all but I must say farewell "

With that a flash of light separated you and the elderly lady as you fell back onto the ground. A force swept through you as you felt the ground spinning beneath you sucking you in as you lost consciousness. Mere seconds later you bolted up from the ground, grasping your throat, breathing heavily as you tried to steady yourself. Standing up you looked around the cemetery, as the morning fog began part. And there is was, Small Heath 1922 sitting there like it always had, like it had never left. You was back. Grabbing the pocket watch from the ground you placed it in your coat pocket as you ran down the cemetery path, sprinting as fast as you could to Watery lane.

Frantically banging on the door next to the betting shop, you called out Tommy's name.

"Tommy! Tommy..."

" Y/N...what the fuck?" John said as he opened the door in just his briefs.

" Tommy, where's Tommy?" You said urgently as you looked behind him into the living room.

" His not here" he said half awake as he rubbed his eyes in confusion.

"Well where is he?" You said as you looked up and down the street panicked.

" I dunno, he left in the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" sighing you put your hands to your face as you began to cry.

" Y/N" Polly said pushing her nephew out the way as she grabbed onto your hand taking it away from you face. " His down by the cut, near the boats" she said urgently ." Hurry" she added letting go of your hand as you ran in that direction.

" How the bloody hell do you know that ?" John asked as he turned to his Aunt. Folding her arms a knowing smile on her lips, she walked away with a small chuckle.

Sitting on an old wooden crate by the canal, a cigarette in his mouth, your black ribbon from you hair in his hand, Tommy laced it around his fingers, holding it tight as he enclosed it into his hand. It had been in his pocket everyday ever since, the only thing he had of yours to remember you by.

Taking a drag of his cigarette he heard a voice in the distance, ever so quietly approaching him with every second. Squinting down the path, he tried to look through the thick fog, then he heard it again.

"Tommy..." his heart quickened at the sound of your voice. Turning away he threw the cigarette onto the ground. How long would you torment him, his mind constantly playing tricks on him. You was gone, never coming back.

" Tommy..."

He heard again only closer. Standing up he looked through the smog once again.

"Tommy!" It was you, your voice right here, right now.

" Y/N!" He shouted back as he ran through the smoke as fast as he could . And then as if he eyes were playing tricks on him, he saw you, running towards him clear as day as you collided into his arms, crying as you held onto him. His heart just about ready to explode, his emotions too much, he buried his head into your neck as he cried along with you.

" I came back" you said as you let go of him, tears streaming down your face. "Your letter" you sobbed as you held onto his arms.

" You did" Tommy cried as he cupped your cheeks. " Y/N, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry" he said as he placed his lips onto yours, his tears falling onto your cheeks. Was this real? Was this happening? He thought to himself as he pulled away, to see your face smiling back at him.

" Fuck" he said as he sniffed back his tears pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapped around you as he held you tightly against his body.

" Never thought I'd see the day Thomas Shelby would cry " you laughed as you wiped your tears away.

" Well" he said as he cleared his throat " You've had me feeling all types of things sweetheart" he said with a small laugh as he let go of you holding you at arms length, soaking in your face.

"You really came back " he said looking at you brushing your tears away with his thumb.

" We came back" you said as you took his hand placing it over your stomach.

"We?" He said confused, only for his eyes to quickly widen at your confession.

" Fucking Hell" he laughed in astonishment as he caressed your stomach. " Life's coming at me fast" he joked, as you placed your hand over his.

" Would you have it any other way?" you said smiling up to him.

" No" he said shaking his head as he cupped your cheeks. The whirlwind that came rocketing into his life, never giving up on him, was now here beside him forever, finally. " I love you Y/N Y/L/N" he said gazing into your eyes.

" I love you Tommy" you replied as he lowered his head down to your face, pressing his lips softly to yours. Content in each others arms, finally together, you stood there by the water as one at last.

Twenty one years later...

"Tommy hurry up" you called out to your husband as you frantically put your shoes on.

" I'm ready Y/N, been ready for an hour " he said looking down at his pocket watch giving you a cheeky smile. Walking over, he held you In front of him. " They're not going anywhere, love" he said staring into your eyes as he pressed a kiss to you lips. " Come on grandma" he said taking your hand as he led you out of the house to the car.

"My darling" you said sobbing as you approached your daughter, laying in the large bed of her home, her newborn child bundled up in a white embroidered blanket, peacefully asleep in her arms.

"Oh my goodness, Tommy look" you said reaching for your husband's hand as he greeted his son in-law.

" Well would you look at that " he said holding the small of your back as he smiled down at the small baby in his daughter's arms. Taking the newborn into your embrace, you gently rocked the small bundle as tears welled in your eyes.

" We named her after you" your daughter said as you gently cupped your granddaughters cheek.

" Baby Y/N..." Tommy said smiling to you, as he watched the joy spread across your face. Walking over to the large bedroom window, your first grandchild safely in your arms, you looked out at the gardens In front of you.

"Feel like I've met her before " Tommy said approaching you from behind, as he stroked the small baby's head.

" Thomas Shelby..." You said rolling your eyes at your husband's obliviousness. If he wasn't going to make the connection now he never would. Kissing your cheek, a gentle stroke to your hip, he walked back over to his daughter as you looked down at the little baby in your arms.

" My sweet girl, I have waited so long to see you again " you said quietly as tears fell onto your cheeks. " It was you that brought me and your grandad together, you alone" you smiled as she held onto your finger.

" A love story that defied all things. And you my darling girl, you were the leading lady"

The end.

Tag list: @theshelbyclan @babayaga67 @sysymei @nataliewalker93 @cherryslyce @globetrotter28 @jyessaminereads @meowtastick @kathrinemelissa @casa-boiardi @ohmygodsebastianstan @ultimatreality

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #a ghost of a man #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

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bonefall · 7 months

Text

Better Bones: CW List

Can't believe I have to make this disclaimer, but here we are

Better Bones is not a project that aims to fix canon by making the Clans wholesome and unproblematic. Though there can be fun and kindness in it and my philosophy is an optimistic one, It's not an escapist fantasy. It is a story about semi-realistic cats of human intelligence in a violent, war-obsessed theocratic dictatorship, and how they attempt to change it over the years.

Clan Culture is flawed, that is on purpose. Addressing and changing this is what the story is about.

I am very disappointed I have to state this because it should be obvious from my main post where I explicitly say that my goal is to "Address (Canon's) Problematic Elements." Not remove.

If you cannot handle themes or depictions of;

Physical and emotional abuse; Domestic, authoritative, and familial

Child abuse and inter-generational trauma

Somewhat graphic medical discussion, such as abortion, wound infection, and the use of leeches and maggots

The killing and processing of small animals into food, including tanning and butchery

Semi-realistic cat behaviors, specifically marking things with urine

Ableism; both externalized and internalized, Clan culture treats disabled cats poorly and this is something several characters struggle with

Xenophobia; to a violent degree, including stochastic terrorism, hate crime, and discrimination

^^^ read that one again. Consider that on this list twice.

Politics; Authoritarianism, fascism, and liberalism as an enemy, discussion of dog whistles and ideology

"Redemption arcs" of people who did bad things

Cosmic horror and supernatural curses

Graphic violence, including against innocent bystanders, through assault, poisoning, drowning, falling, and even being eaten alive by large fish and demigods.

Animal abuse; Human beings harming cats on purpose and Clan cats generally being terrified of all humans, even kind and loving ones

Clan cats, both villainous and culturally mislead, glorifying these things in-universe, not immediately staring at the camera and breaking character to tell you "This Is A Bad Thing!"

Then Better Bones may not be for you. I would at minimum rate this project as PG-13, but PG-16 would be a more accurate bet.

I have sympathy for you if these are not topics you can handle. My project tackles very upsetting real-world issues and not everyone is looking for something challenging; that's understandable and there's no fault in that. I try to tag appropriately but can't promise to catch everything, so please keep yourself safe.

There are other, softer projects out there run by cool people if this is not for you, and you can add #Better Bones AU to your tag filters and this project will not show up!

But, I'm not responsible for your comfort with my art. If you followed me under the assumption that BB is "Warriors without any ableism/xenophobia/violence" you were mistaken. If you don't have the maturity to act responsibly when something upsets you, or DO have the malice to read a disabled person's work with the most bad faith interpretations you can muster, LEAVE.

#It's better bones not Brand New Bones #better bones au #cw list #masterpost #I'm dead serious get the fuck out. I don't want people like that here #I'm not writing this for the people who couldn't handle steven fucking universe #This is NOT a feelgood happy story with distant lackadaisical problems #A guy gets gutted on-screen and then they sing a song about how cathartic his gruesome death was #Because they all watched him equally gruesomely kill a bunch of innocent people including kids #Bumbs was going to get MURDERED before ThunderStorm bowled in #Really can't believe I'm saying this but guys there are some fucking People out there #Hi! I'm a random weirdo who doesn't follow you type shit #Clans are XENOPHOBIC.#THEY TREAT FOREIGNERS BAD #There is going to be a WHOLE THING about Berry the Evil Educator and how she uses 'proper grammar' to shame and demonize Heart's guardians #christ

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secret-smut-sideblog · 4 months

Text

(sooo thought I should probably masterlist these so here you go, have fuuun) nsfw in red, pg-13 in ourple

Oneshots

Devourer - (astarion x f! reader) Your beloved vampire has gotten very comfortable with you. But you wonder of he's been holding back some of his more supernatural tendencies...

Bloodlust - (astarion x f! tav) Tav invites her bloodthirsty friend out for some late night reconnaissance, both of their cravings being fed...

Lay on Hands - (astarion x f! tav) In the early hours of the morning someone cant keep their hands to themselves...

Pulling Strings - (astarion x f! tav) Tav has caught on that her favorite vampire doesn't enjoy touching or being touched by others. But she has a suggestion to possibly help that piques his interest...

Satiated - (astarion x f! dark urge) With Astarion starving in the Underdark his bloodthirsty friend sees his hunger, knows it quite well. And with a promised death in their future, seeks to help him sate himself...

Night Wandering - (gale x f! tav) After Tav's little magic lesson from her favorite wizard and the heat momentarily shared between them, she's feeling pent up. If only his tent wasn't directly next to hers...

Cold Comfort - (astarion x f! dark urge) Finally reaching Moonrise Towers, she finds her urge overtaking her, taking an innocent life. Astarion seeks to keep her company through the long night...

Nose to the Grindstone - (gale x f! tav, named) Aurum and Gale fucking in the dirt. They were left alone at camp, it's not their fault. Smh.

Black Out Days - (gale x f! tav) Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Warm Company (halsin x f! tav) With her crush on the vampire tearing her heart, a large kind druid seeks to make her feel wanted...

You Know Me Too Well (gortash x f! dark urge) After the coronation, she can't get the familiarity he showed her out of her mind. She needs answers, and the Archduke is more than happy to indulge her...

Eyes on Fire (gortash x f! dark urge) The visage of the Archduke won't leave her, and itching for blood, his favorite assassin is about to pay the Lord a very welcome visit...

Miniseries

Pillow Talk (1/2) Tav innocently offered to help Astarion with his morning routine. But things get very close, and Astarion is shocked how her sweet face belies the sinful mouth she has...

Lover, Please Stay (2/2) Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Warm Water (gale x f! tav) 1/3 With one of Tav's love languages being physical affection, Gale tries to keep his touch hungry skin from her. The sirens call of her arms could overwhelm him, but he's far from the only one heeding her soft song...

Warm Honey (gale / halsin x f! tav) 2/3 Both druid and wizard seeking out her warmth, Gale makes a plan to win her affections. Yet both scent and sound could conspire to be his undoing...

Warm Blood (gale / astarion x f! tav) 3/3 With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...

Girl Talk Series

(astarion x f! tav, short and sweet smut, completed)

Girl Talk - One late night Astarion turned their conversation to a more sensual topic and was delighted to discover Tav lacked experience with men. Naturally he was more than happy to lend a hand...

It Will Come Back - Their shared night has been tormenting him, after staking his claim he found himself needing to be near her. And after a night of drinking, seeing her with someone else, he had to have her again...

Heat Signature - (karlach x tav) After nearly freezing to death Tav needs Karlach near. Very near, it seems...

Unpunishable - After Karlach spent the night with Tav, Astarion is feeling very normal about it. So normal that he needs her in his tent all night. Just to feed, he swears...

Child Of Dawn series

(gale x f! tav, slow burn, ongoing)

Nightcall

Non Believer

Dream Girl Evil

Let Me Follow

To Build A Home

Bedroom Hymns

Listen Before I Go

Many Hands

Faith Consuming Hope

the girlypop... (aurum, my tav)

The Tav in question... (for reference)

AA Break Up Series

(ascended astarion x f! tav, drama and smut, completed)

We The Drowned

Take Me Back To Eden (shadowheart × f! tav)

Like Real People Do (halsin x f! tav)

I Should Hate You

Chokehold

What Kind Of Man (gale x f! tav)

Seven Devils

All I Wanted

The Moon Will Sing

Strawberry Wine (gale x f! tav)

As It Was

Astarion x Dark Urge

(astarion x f! durge, tenderness and smut, completed)

Dark Signs

Bite The Hand

Prey Drive

A Dangerous Thing

My Love Is A Dagger

Bloodcall

Little Miss Murder herself (my durge)

Distance

(astarion x f! plus fized tav, tenderness and smut, completed)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

First Light (Prologue)

The Drow (indulgent prologue chapter)

My Portrait of Tav (I do be drawing..)

Tav Headcanons (being indulgent)

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v3nusxsky · 2 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing, and I have a request;

Larissa x teacher,fem!reader and they’ve been together for a few years and then Wednesday arrives to Nevermore and things start going downhill, the murders start and all that, so just about Larissa being overly overprotective over reader when those things happen, not letting reader out of her sight and constantly having to know where reader is because she doesn’t want reader in danger/to lose her. Reader is a bit stubborn and too independent and sometimes (for example) goes for a walk in the woods where the hyde is even though larissa told her not to bc its dangerous.

Basically fluff, larissa being overprotective, and possibly angst too!

You don’t have to write this if you don’t like the idea, also take your time!

Thank you <3

Temptations and Confessions

*Authors note~ the first instalment of my you are my world (YAMW) series and I must say I adore my Larissa Weems. Some themes may be a bit tricky so always read the warnings and check the rating love yall. Sorry to the anon for changing a few details to fit in with the series I hope that’s okay*

Trigger warnings~ Nevermore supernatural usual drama overprotective Larissa due to past trauma

Prompt~ see ask^^^

Tag list

Empathy. Often as children, we get told to have more empathy for others. But for you that’s not the case. No. You were labelled the overly sensitive child. The one who seemed to be nicknamed the cry baby. It wasn’t your fault really. Being born into two Normie parents who didn’t understand you wasn’t going to help your situation. I’m fact your ability became a curse rather quickly. It became a weakness. Others could now use this against you and it resulted in you curling in on yourself, speaking less and less, isolating yourself completely and building walls so high that they would rival the Eiffel Tower. All until you stumbled into Nevermore. Literally.

Feeling your own emotions deeply was manageable but feeling others on top of your own made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been. Your own nerves bubbled in your lower stomach uncontrollably as you made your way to the gates of Nevermore. That’s why you didn’t see it. Overwhelmed with not only your emotions but those of the whole school as well made your head spin, eyes blurring round the corners causing you to trip over a obnoxiously large stone and fall face first down to the ground. What a great impression that is.

That day led you to the current moment in time, you’ve been teaching at Nevermore for a year now, dating Larissa for a few months. Larissa’s aura immediately drew you in, a stunning mixture of gold, pink, green and light blue and slight speckles of red all swirling together in a pattern that is so uniquely hers. You adore how each colour simply is woven into each other yet still remaining visible to your eye. It is nothing short of gorgeous and even now you know you’ll never stop being stunned by the woman.

Over the past two weeks your girlfriend has had exhaustion and irritation rolling off her aura in brutal waves due to the newest student of Nevermore. In fact, you felt like you’d hardly seen her since Wednesday had arrived at Nevermore. And whenever you did, she was drained. Wherever an Addams goes, trouble and darkness will always follow, a rumour you’d heard but not had evidence of till now. The young Addams radiates black and indigo in her aura, it’s practically dripping like blood as her emotions of disinterest and annoyance seeped through. Despite not seeing the principal, you’d received many texts apologising for her lack of presence these days, reminding you she cares for you and to stay safe. Things would settle down soon. You both hoped for that. But a niggly feeling deep in your soul told you that that was simply wishful thinking.

Emotions constantly consumed you, the fear of the students impact your ability to remain neutral, to the point you were having near consistent headaches. New rules being implemented for staff and students due to what some believe is bears. Bears in the woods were believable but perhaps it was paranoia of the students effecting you or Wednesdays constant insistence over there being a monster In the woods killing people. Whatever the reason was you couldn’t do the constant headaches, anxiety hitting you like tidal waves every time you left your room, even altering your dreams now. This couldn’t go on much longer, it’s draining everyone, especially the poor Principal. Truthfully you weren’t sure what emotions were your own these day.

Shooting a quick text off to Larissa you found your shoes and jacket and got ready to leave the grounds in search of a break. Only to be stopped by a frantic round of knocks on the door of your private chambers spooked you. Instantly tapping into your ability, you knew your girlfriend was stood on the other side of the door riddled with panic causing you to make quick work of letting the woman in.

“Isa?” You puzzled, stepping back away from her slightly as the full force of her emotions hit you. “Darling! You shouldn’t leave the grounds. I can’t protect you there my love! Please don’t risk your health. I can’t imagine what would happen if-“ her own sobs choked the final words of her pleas. Tears forming in her cyan blue eyes, “I don’t like this darling girl” you couldn’t help but mumbled sadly “I need a break Isa. It’s too painful. Maybe if I can prove there’s nothing abnormal the students won’t be so paranoid. I have to try Larissa! Please for my sake let me go” you stated with the stubbornness she knew you held. Especially when it involved someone you care for. “I- I don’t like it” she whispered as her emotions clouded every word. As much as she didn’t like this, she doesn’t want you in pain either.

Warm slender fingers came to cradle your cheek as she attempted to persuade you otherwise. The blondes heart clenching with fear as you squared your jaw and pushed calming emotions into her. “I’ll be fine Isa. I promise. Just need fifteen minutes to myself away from all the madness. Larissa you must know I respect you but I need this. I’ll be back soon love” you stated before slipping under the shifters form that was blocking the doorway. You didn’t dare look back, knowing your heart would shatter into millions of tiny pieces at the hurt and anguish she was being drowned in.

One thing about Larissa Weems is she protects those within Nevermore and those who she holds dear with every fibre of her being. To see you go into the unknown alone most definitely shouldn’t be happening on her watch. But, she’d the let fear of losing you paralyse her, moments trapped in her own mind as it drew up the worst case scenarios.

The ticking sound escaping the grandfather clock seemed to be only adding to the blondes fears. You’d said fifteen minutes, by minute three she had moved back to her office and began rapidly passing the floor. A desperate attempt to calm herself was failing as she glanced again at the clock for at least the hundredth time. By minute eight, every emotion was clawing its way through the shifter inhibiting her from forming a plan. To save you from the unknown.

By minute fifteen, tears caressed pale cheeks as her chest heaved in attempt of getting enough air to fill them. You’d left. And she’d let you. Failing you in the first few months of your blossoming relationship wouldn’t booded well with her desire to love and protect you till her last breath. A lapse in her judgment that wouldn’t happen again.

As you made your way back to the grounds, shaken and sore you were immediately hit with your lovers emotions. Self hatred, solitude, love, panic, confusion and an overwhelming sadness were swirling inside of her like a mini tornado. So much so it practically made you feel more nauseous than you previously did. As you crawled into Nevermore the only thought you had was that she was right. If only you’d listened to her.

Not even bothering to knock you let yourself into the office panting slightly through the pain which caught her attention. “Are you hurt? Darling? Let me see. Are you okay? Gods don’t ever do that again! I could’ve lost you. Do you know how incredibly dangerous that is. Is that blood?” She rambled as her eyes frantically ran over your from. She immediately noted that you seemed to hold your right heel off the floor and a deep crimson stained your cheeks and left arm. Almost as if you’d been scratched by something.

“Isa” you groaned, “yes. I’m sorry. You were right” you mumbled as you tried to focus on anything but the swirling emotions that were brewing inside of you. “Stay” was all she offered as she let her long beautiful legs carry her to fetch what could only be a medical kit. Sure enough that’s exactly what she was clinging to as she moved to kneel by your saw body. “I’m sorry darling. I need to clean this up love” she murmured softly to you as she set to work on her task. A peace offering of painkillers and some bottled water to help with the physical pain. Praise flowing as she carfully cleaned and patch up the deep cuts before wrapping your ankle to help with the pain.

“Feel sick” you whimpered as she cleaned off the blood staining your cheeks. “I’ll just” she trailed off as you cut her off with a desperate plea to stay. “Please! Isa I need you here! Don’t leave me! I’m sorry, don’t go” only to be hushed and gently scooped into her arms and carried to her private quarters. From there she joined you on the bed, extra cautious of your sore body. “Okay.”

Okay. You were okay. But hurt. Alive. She reminded her self as you clung to her. She had no clue what had happened and it wasn’t her right to pry, you’d speak when you felt ready. In an effort to help with your nausea she tried to pour all her love and calming energy into you as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. You could’ve died. Left. Gone. She wouldn’t have been able to tell you she loved you. Although you knew that, she wanted the first time admitting it out loud to be perfect.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again” she mumbled dropping a sweet kiss to your head. You’d been silent for a while, chest rising and falling slowly with your eyes screwed shut as you hid yourself into her. Only natural she thought you’d been asleep. “I’m sorry I’ve let you down my darling. I can’t lose you. From here and now I’m going to make sure that you are safe. Better protection for you from emotions. Anything to keep you safe and happy. I- i- oh heavens how will I tell you when you are awake if i can’t say it now?’ I love you sweet girl. Always will.” She managed to stumble out before dropping another round of sweet kisses to the crown of your head. No verbal answer was given, but the onslaught of love forcing its way into her body was all that she needed to know.

You’d get through this together. She hadn’t lost you. And wouldn’t ever again. Stubbornly, you mumbled telling her she was protective of you. Only to be reminded that to Larissa Weems you are her whole world. Nothing is more important than your safety and happiness. Nothing. She’d deal with your stubbornness if you accepted her need to protect someone as precious as yourself from such a cruel world. Her love. Her life. Hopefully her wife. One day.

Word count ~ 2005

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #larissa #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader #principleweemsxreader #principal weems x you #principal larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #weems #v3nusxsky you are my world series #v3nusxsky

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gunebuggiesprompts · 10 months

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Word of the Day dpxdc Prompt #11

July 15: Salvo

The GIW successfully bombed the Ghost Zone after working with Walker to lock up Danny in the Ghost Zone where he "belongs". Anyways, with the Ghost Zone practically nuked, it not only destroyed Danny's universe but many others. Because the people in Danny's dimension did this, many ghosts blame Danny and tell Walker to sentence him for an eternity of being frozen (kinda like Pariah Dark). Danny is traumatized and is currently grieving for his lost universe and family/friends, so he doesn't really put up a fight and accept it. He has extreme survivor's guilt and often blames himself for what happened.

Frostbite and his people, who largely died from the bomb, break him out after thousands of years being frozen. Though, since Danny was frozen the entire time, he doesn't know anything that has happened recently and still in the mind of his 14-16 year old self, still grieving as to him they only died that day.

Frostbite doesn't really acknowledge this, as the main reason he broke out Danny is because there is an multidimensional war going on since the bombing and he believes the only one who could solve this is the "Great One", who he also believes is the strongest for defeating Pariah Dark. So he sends Danny, who should really not be fighting in a war, to a universe known for having great warriors that may be able to help, aka DC universe. Danny is all up for this because he feels like this may be a way to redeem himself and fix part of the mess he believes he made (even though it was not his fault).

He goes there planning to create an army and is surprised by how many heroes and people with supernatural abilities (apparently this is semi-normal and called meta-humans). He finds a whole league of them and goes to ask them to employ them first.

Whenever a random superhuman teen somehow breaks into the Watchtower asking for the Justice League to help fight in a war that could very well be the end to all reality, they had no clue what to think.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp au #fic prompt #writing prompt #word of the day prompt #dpxdc word of the day prompt 11 #mine

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aurevell · 6 months

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Returning the Favor Sterek | 5k | T

Stiles pays a nighttime visit to his boyfriend in secret, or so he thinks. Unfortunately, the Hale family has keener ears than he realizes.

It’s late when Derek hears the noise at the side of the house. A creak of siding that cuts through the backdrop of cricket song. Just one lone sound, but there’s something cautious about it. Probing.

He lowers the book he’s reading, but no other sounds follow. Derek has been lying sprawled across his bed, drowsy and warm and comfortable, sweatpant-clad legs resting against the wall—but now that he’s conscious of the sound, his focus sharpening, he thinks he’s been hearing quiet noises grow nearer for some time without quite comprehending them. A wild animal outside, maybe, creeping slowly around the foundation of the house. Something large enough that the mulch in the flower bed crunches beneath its weight.

It’s not often that a solitary animal grows bold enough to venture this close to a werewolf pack—the scent always scares them off first. They don’t even get raccoons out here, especially not with the cold this time of year. It could always be their cousin Warren, who’s always thought it funny to startle his relatives with unexpected visits in the dead of night. Or any one of the nasty things in Uncle Peter’s wild stories, supernatural things that creep into the house come dark.

Derek glances at the window, book still resting on his chest, but the house is still.

Maybe it’s gone. That’s just as well: he’s too comfortable to drag himself over to the window to look.

And then another sound comes, an unmistakable creak. Heavy weight settling into place.

Downstairs, his mother sighs. “What was that?” she demands, her voice faint with distance. She and his dad are likely out on the porch swing at this time of evening, even though it’s nearly winter, lunatics that they are. “If Laura and Cora are at it again—”

“I’m sure they aren’t, Tal,” Derek’s father replies, sounding amused. “You put the fear of god in them.”

Mom scoffs. “If we have to repair another door, it’s coming out of their pockets.”

“Not everything is my fault, Mom,” Cora mutters pointedly from down the hall. There’s heavy metal coming from the vicinity of Laura’s bedroom, just low enough to be blasting from her headphones, and she doesn’t pipe up to defend herself.

The thing hasn’t gone away. Metal squeaks a moment later, and then the scrabbling returns, punctuated by a thump and a muffled grunt.

Annoyed, Derek tosses the book aside and clambers to his feet, crossing over to the window. When he hoists up the sash, letting the night chill waft in, he peers down into the dark and finds that the source is worse than anything he could have imagined.

It’s his boyfriend, scaling the side of the house like some deranged cat burglar.

Stiles is hanging onto the drainpipe, having managed to hoist himself several feet off the ground. He’s leaning against the metal awning over the kitchen window, one foot atop the shutter and the other scrabbling for purchase against the siding. At the clatter of Derek’s opening window, he looks up, startled, and nearly loses his balance.

“What are you doing here?” Derek hisses.

“Just returning the favor.” With a moment to catch himself against the awning, Stiles gets his bearing and grins. “What? Don’t make that face. C’mon, you can show up at all hours of the night, but turnabout isn’t fair play?”

With that, he sticks his tongue between his teeth, which he sometimes does unconsciously when something demands his full attention. And the perilous task of climbing should get his full attention, given how often he stumbles when both of his feet are on the ground. God, Derek is about to witness his idiot boyfriend fall to his death or something.

Stiles heaves himself mostly onto the awning, clawing for purchase with a grunt. When he reaches for the window, he loses his grip, nearly sliding backward onto the grass; in a flash of panic, Derek grabs him by his shirt and yanks him forward.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demands, aware of their volume and even more aware of their audience.

The awning rattles as Stiles draws up his long legs to slip inside the window feet first, ducking under the sash. He’s panting a little as he pulls himself upright, though he bats his eyes sweetly in the face of Derek’s scowl. “Oh, please. I knew you’d catch me. ‘My hero,’ and all that.”

“Should have let you fall and die,” Derek retorts, shutting the window.

“Probably. Oh man, that was so athletic. Sometimes, I amaze myself.”

Derek doesn’t have anything smart to say to that. He’s only half paying attention, too busy bracing for the discussion sure to follow.

He and Stiles may as well have stomped up and down the stairs blowing air horns as far as the rest of the house goes. Everyone will have heard. Derek is absolutely sure because you can hear a pin drop, like no one’s even moving, like everyone’s waiting with bated breath—either gleeful or judgmental or both—to hear what comes next. Even Laura’s deafening headphones have gone silent. Fuck.

Worst of all…Stiles doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t yet know about the secret the Hale family hides, or how keenly they can hear, or that every word he says will be seized up and cheerfully dissected and gossiped about in real time.

Read the rest on AO3

#sterek #sterek fic #mine #vaguely inspired by a tumblr post i have been unable to find after multiple searches in the month+ it took me to write this #i think it was a pic of two cats falling off a roof??#and whoever posted it was basically like 'haha this is stiles-coded after he tries to climb derek's window and pulls derek down with him'#i'm pretty sure i even reblogged it and yet where is it??#if you know what i'm talking about let me know lmao #anyway #this is only a little bit about stiles struggling through the window #mostly it's about how i think werewolf hearing would upgrade the sibling-on-sibling crime possibilities in any given household #and the fact that you could not get away with ANYTHING noisy without every other person in the house knowing about it #so having blabbermouth stiles stilinski pop into said household while being totally ignorant of the existence of werewolves...#let's just say 'poor derek' and leave it at that lmao

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thesaltwateremu · 4 months

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with less than two weeks left till protocol, I think it’s time for me to share my insane, probably incorrect theory

I call it “How Agnes Montague Can Still Win”

To start, I think it’d be really interesting if protocol was centered around a different entity instead of the eye. This would actually make sense since the institute was burned down, meaning the eye no longer has its main place of power. There’s two main reasons why I think tmp could be desolation focused:

1) the green used in tma is heavily associated with the eye. The logo for tmp is red, the opposite of green. The desolation is associated with red (though it’s not the only entity) and while it’s not the complete opposite of the eye, I think it still fits. The eye watches, but does not interfere. The whole point of the desolation is to interfere through destruction. Also in tma, the eye and the desolation were enemies. Continuing with the color theory nonsense, red and green are complementary colors. Agnes and Gertrude’s dynamic feels very similar to this: neither chose to be an avatar, and they could have gotten along had circumstances been different, but the eye was largely at fault for Agnes’ death. Opposites that complement one another very much describes the eye and the desolation.

2) The institute burned down. Seems pretty desolation to me. (Keeping this reason short and sweet, there’s really not much else to say) (Although I will take this time to say: Gertrude desolation avatar? Her two main methods of dealing with the supernatural was to burn it or blow it up)

So, where does Agnes come in to this? In a qna, Jonny said that Agnes was a character he’d have liked to have explored more in tma (paraphrasing, I don’t remember the exact wording) What if he uses protocol to explore Agnes’ story more and give her a more satisfying ending?

So that’s my insane theory! Protocol will be centered around the desolation with Agnes montague returning as a character

#If you’re reading this after protocol comes out #Shut up about how incredibly wrong it is #yes i’m delusional #agnes is my wife I need to hear her voice #how agnes montague can still win #tmp #the magnus protocol #tma #the magnus archives #agnes tma #agnes montague #the desolation #tmp theory #if this actually right I think I’ll explode

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furiarossa · 2 months

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You got back into Danny Phantom too, huh? (Me, I've been reading fanfiction.) So, do you think being around ectoplasm affects the rest of the Fentons in any way?

He hey! We're not "back" into Danny Phantom, this is the first time we enjoy it, we didn't know about this show before!

But finally we discovered it, and, of course, its infinite worldbuilding opportunities! Y'know, we ourselves are a bit like the Fentons: we like to research about ghosts. To study and to create.

What do we think about the way ectoplasm affects the rest of the Fentons? Hmm... let's see...

Today we talk about:

ECTOCONTAMINATION

Ectocontamination is defined as the "fusion" between organic materials and ectoplasm. Generally, ectocontamination occurs due to prolonged contact, but there may be other causes, including forced ectocontamination.

Etiology

Ectocontamination in humans manifests itself in the form of a prolonged syndrome, which depending on the resistance of the subject's body can develop different symptoms.

Ectoplasm does not normally tend towards a natural connection with living tissues, being the solidification on the material plane of the body of spirits, and therefore being connected to them; however, there is some non-encoded ectoplasm (not part of a living spirit, long incapable of self-replicating and without information within it), usually leftovers from the meals of large spirits or simply material detached from the original creature through fault of mechanical damage: it is this non-codified ectoplasm that can "attach" to the bodies of living beings, accumulating in them and modifying their characteristics. In low-density tissues (such as adipose tissue), ectoplasm can accumulate in large quantities more easily, saturating the space between cells, while it is more difficult for it to accumulate in bones and cartilage. The brain (and in general the entire area inside the skull and filled with cerebrospinal fluid) is particularly sensitive to the accumulation of ectoplasm.

Ectocontamination is not contagious and only affects living beings that have been directly exposed to non-coded ectoplasm for a long time. Typically, it takes three to seven years to start showing symptoms of ectocontamination.

(So, yeah, this is the case for the Fenton family!)

Clinic

The exposure period necessary to develop ectocontamination varies from 3 to 7 years, provided that the amount of ectoplasm with which the body comes into contact exceeds an individual's natural tolerance threshold.

The tolerance threshold is different from person to person, and varies from a few micrograms per day up to almost half a kilo of ectoplasm. The most sensitive individuals develop the symptoms of ectocontamination just by regularly touching spirits with bare skin, absorbing the ectoplasm that these creatures sometimes lose naturally; however, this is an extremely rare occurrence: such sensitivity affects less than 0.3% of the population.

The syndrome normally begins with a maculopapular skin rash, accompanied by moderate fever, itching, general malaise, sometimes with headache, asthenia, loss of appetite. The main characteristic of the skin picture is the complete asynchrony of the lesions. In fact, several lesions are often found in various developmental stages, identifying the so-called "starry sky effect".

Although this is the most common onset of symptoms, they are not always present: sometimes contaminated people never develop a skin rash, itching or fever.

After the first phase of ectocontamination, the one in which effects similar to a skin disease are visible, the body seems to recover from the latter, but begins to show a series of symptoms that are often defined as "supernatural".

Signs and symptoms

An adult ectocontaminated individual, in whom ectoplasm has become established within the body, will exhibit a variety of symptoms unique to the individual, which may include:

Superior physical strength: the presence of ectoplasm between the fibers increases its performance, two to seven times compared to that of a normal human being. The density of the muscle, thanks to the infracellular presence of the ectoplasmic material, appears to be much higher than the occupied mass.

Obsession: due to the neo-coding (or para-coding) of the ectoplasm, which interacts directly with the nervous system of the host body, the ectocontaminated individual develops a typical characteristic of lemurs and other spirits, namely specific obsession or "purpose". The obsession becomes the first and most important thought of the individual, who focuses on it and tends to get bored easily when the topic is not being talked about. Humans with superior willpower can tone down this symptom, but the thought of obsession still remains with them always.

Resistance to Spirit Possession: Since the body of ectocontaminated individuals is already partially saturated with ectoplasm, it is much more difficult for a spirit to possess it.

Resistance to Mind Control: The brains of ectocontaminated people are modified by neo-coding and often work synergically with ectoplasm; Because of this, a normal psychic attack cannot hit him, because it targets a normal human brain, which has completely different neural connections.

Sensitivity to light: The retina of ectocontaminated individuals is particularly sensitive to sunlight. Often, these individuals wear sunglasses (or other protective devices) even when they are inside buildings. If their eyes are subjected to sunlight during the brightest hours of the day, ectocontaminated people tend to behave in a confused manner, like nocturnal animals awakened by a headlight. Although it is less common, it is possible to develop a skin sensitivity to light, which leads the person to cover themselves completely, from the neck to the shoes.

Depigmentation: The skin, mucous membranes and irises of an ectocontaminated individual may lose melanin, leaving the individual with a "ghostly" and washed-out appearance. This can unfortunately lead to a number of medical complications, such as reduced visual acuity.

So:

Maddie developed superior physical strength, resistance to mind control/spirit possession (we never see her overshadowed by a ghost!) and sensitivity to light (she often wears shaded goggles, even indoor).

Jack developed superior physical strength, an obsession (he's absolutely obsessed with ghosts, he doesn't really care about anything else), a slight resistence to spirit possession (we see him resisting Vlad's overshadowing, not completely, but enough to have the time to warn Maddie), and a partial sensitivity to light (in particular his skin, which must always be covered by the jumpsuit).

Jazz developed an obsession (for psychology, not extreme as the obsession that her dad has for ghosts, but a symptom none the less), and a light resistance to spirit possession. She was less exposed to ectoplasm than her parents. But it doesn't mean that she won't show other symptoms in the future!

And Danny, as we all know, is an half-ghost... that probably is an extra stage of the "normal" ectocontamination. But this is not the place to talk about it ;)

And that's what we think about the Fenton's ectocontamination! We hope it was enough, but... if you have any other question, maybe more specific... we would gladly, with joy, answer it!

And of course this applies to all of you! Help us build our lore with your questions!

All the ghost worldbuilding posts!

The "Ask us about ghost worldbuilding" post

Our ask is open!

#danny phantom #worldbuilding #ghost worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #answer #the way of legends #2023 #spirits #lemures #ectoplasm #my danny phantom #jack fenton

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billsfangearring · 1 year

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11 Good Omens Fic Favorites

a.k.a. I was going to choose my personal top ten but was too indecisive

One of my fandom resolutions for 2023 is to get back into reccing, so here’s a very casual GO rec list to kick things off! Fics are ordered longest to shortest.

As with any rec list, please read the warnings and tags on ao3 and make whatever decisions are best for you. I hope you enjoy!

the bucket list by darcylindbergh (@forineffablereasons)

There was a certain look that Aziraphale wore occasionally—a pinched sort of moue that looked like he’d just taken a very large mouthful of cinnamon—which meant he thought Crowley was being ridiculous. He had put it on. “Hang on,” he had said. “You want us to do human things?” * If you're going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

absolutely stunning, I wanted to take breaks while reading to really let it all sink in, I felt ALL THE EMOTIONS (44k, incomplete, E)

Your Mirror by equestrianstatue (@justlikeeddie)

I'll be your mirror; reflect what you are, in case you don't know. Crowley drummed his fingers briefly against his mug, and then sat back a little in his chair. He gave Aziraphale a long, appraising glance, and then seemed to come to some decision. “Listen, angel,” he said, “let me pitch you something.” Lulled by the familiar patter of Crowley’s voice as he was, Aziraphale still recognised this to be vaguely dangerous territory. He swallowed. “Go on,” he said.

one of the best-executed non-linear narrative fics I've ever read—just masterful, really peels back the layers in their relationship (28k, E)

This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault. Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap. When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks. Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

sad, tender, funny, and romantic with beautiful prose, really just everything you want, so many quotable lines (22k, E)

Lay me down in Eden by caricari (@heycaricari)

Two supernatural entities go for a walk and Crowley gets more than he bargained for.

SO ROMANTIC OH MY GOD in the dialogue, interior monologue, and actions, excellent characterization, so pure (then explicit lol) (17k, E)

You've Got Kudos by curtaincall (@fremulon)

Aziraphale and Crowley both write fanfiction. As it happens, they both write Good Omens fanfiction. Of course, neither of them would ever admit this to the other. (A love story told primarily in AO3 comments)

this is the most meta thing ever lmao, really impressive skins for the ao3 look—pay attention to all the little details like usernames, etc. (4k, M)

build me a city, call it jerusalem by gyzym (@gyzym)

Man begets man begets The Tales of Men, and there's nothing godly in that; Those Above and Them Below haven't any need for the stories humans have been hungry for since the snake and the Angel with the flaming sword.

pre-show fic written in 2012, leans heavily into religious themes and Biblical references, melancholic, spare but beautiful writing style (3k, T)

The Gift by entanglednow (@entanglednow)

In which there is a little wooden elephant, and a long overdue confession.

simple yet checks all the boxes, very very soft and sweet, the DEVOTION, more biblical settings, truly just lovely (3k, T)

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by TheOldAquarian (@darkpurpledawn)

What are you supposed to do when you've been fired from your sweet job in Hell for thwarting the schemes of Satan, you've got a swanky flat in Mayfair, and you're looking for an excuse to spend all your time in someone else's bookshop? Obviously, you turn to the dubious world of short-term vacation rentals. The resulting Airbnb property has been variously described as "an instagram trap," "a vampire den but make it botanical," and "the weirdest bed and breakfast in the shared history of beds and breakfasting."

a highly entertaining series of Airbnb reviews of Crowley’s flat—every single one kills me, as do our ineffable duo’s cameos (3k, G)

Kissing, Accidentally. by skybound2 (@skybound2)

Crowley doesn’t mean to kiss him, really. It just sort of…happens. An…automatic response, if you will. An unintended automatic response. Unexpected, even. It’s not planned, that’s what he’s trying to say. ~~~ Or the one where Crowley gives in and kisses Aziraphale while he has him pinned against a wall.

winner of best use of footnotes, hilarious, Crowley is WHIPPED and an absolute disaster of a demon, just delightful (2k, G)

Too Generous by rfsmiley (@redfacesmiley)

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” Or: what happened after the [ we all got hit by a ] bus scene (aka "you could stay at my place, if you like")….

the TENSION, the PINING, ahh my heart was in my throat, excellent dialogue, and multiple P&P references (1.5k, T)

Interwoven Footsteps by skybound2 (@skybound2)

It takes them a while to get there. Six thousand years, give or take. But they get there.

criminally underappreciated (probably because it's super short), gorgeous, lush, sweet, their whole story in under 1k words (700, T)

#good omens fic recs #good omens #ineffable spouses #bfe fic recs #fic recs #long post

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