#and my curiosity causes me to make the choices on a scrap save that I throw out after

[clemsimunch]

*THE LAST OF US PART 1 & 2 SPOILERS*

I got the game when I was 13. I received it for free with the ps3 I had just bought. This was my first non Nintendo console, so I was stepping into an entire new world and gender of games.

Being that young and that inexperienced with shooting games or even realistic games, I didn't get far. I remember being too scared to attack my first clickers and turning off the game.

To this day, it resides on my shelf along with a couple of kingdom hearts games and beyond two souls that I only finished thru letting my friends play it for me.

Now we're in 2023, and everyone on the Internet is talking about the HBO show, so by pure curiosity of all the hype, I decided to watch episodes 1 & 2 with some friends.

I knew the beginning of the game. But revisiting the story now as an adult and confronting the disturbing and frightening sight of the clickers through a mature lense made the experience so much better.

It didn't surprise me that I became obsessed with the game and show, and so, in a very short time, I binged part 1 of the videogame.

The end of part 1 is good, but it leaves you a bit conflicted. What Joel did was morally wrong, but after spending so much time with Ellie and him, you totally understand why he did it. Killing people is never a good action, even if it's to save your daughter. Joel knows this ence why he lies to Ellie about it, but she is smart and knows he is not telling the truth but decides not to question him.

That's how it ends. Them trying to live a normal life in an apocalyptic world. Knowing there's nothing they can do to help.

I didn't want to watch part 2.

Part 1 finished in a satisfying bitter sweet ending with an open ending that led to so many possibilities we could imagine. And I liked to be able to imagine what life Joel and Ellie would live after. How Joel would have to tell her what he did one day and how Ellie would learn to accept his actions and accept that she can't save everyone.

In a way, that's exactly what part 2 did. I just hated the way they did it. (it wasn't poorly done it just broke my heart and stepped on it)

I started part 2 with high hopes and so much love for the father daughter relationship the two main characters had built in the first game. To me that what was the core of the last of us. This found family in the chaos of life.

Of course we can't have nice things.

I had a panick attack as a reaction to Joel's death. The whole scene made me want to throw up, and I was sobbing for hours after the fact.

I had to FORCE myself to continue part 2, and even then, I skipped most of Abbys' story because I couldn't bear it ( I'm weak, ok ). With every memory Joel Ellie presented us with, came the tears of my broken heart.

I'm very sensitive, and when I watch a show, I always feel what the character feels. So I felt like I had gained an amazing father figure, and someone brutally murdered him in front of me to then just remember how the last couple times we interacted weren't the best.

The scene where Joel finally tells Ellie the truth and their very last conversation where Ellie tells him how she doesn't think she'll ever forgive him but she wants to try and you can hear with Joel's broken voice how relieved and happy that made him feel.

Then IT happens, and the rest of the game is Ellie making very questionable choices. I'd even go as far as saying she does way worse than Joel in this game. Joel killed to save his daughter, by necessity. Ellie killed for revenge for her own cause. And that does not lead her to a great path...

Overall, part 1 is a masterpiece, and I have a lot of conflicting feelings about part 2. I dont like how it's just Ellies revenge and not her fighting for a cause or something like they did in the first one (mostly). The second one feels selfish. I guess it makes her human.

Then, there's my brain wanting to find solutions.

1 WISHFULL

Scrap part 2 and just write "they lived happily ever after" after the first part....

2 REASON

The morally right thing that should have been done at the end of part 1 ( not only by Joel but by any other person in that damn hospital ) would have been to wake Ellie up and tell her the situation and let her choose. I'm sure she would have chosen self-sacrifice, and Joel would've been really sad, but he wouldn't kill everyone knowing it was HER choice.

3 LOGIC

Ok, I'm no doctor and I don't claim to be all knowing so if I say anything totally wrong please correct me but, at least in the HBO series, they tell us AGAIN AND AGAIN that nothing can cure the fungus infection. There's no medicine. No vaccine. EXPERTS in the field say so. But then come Ellie, who is immune. I'm gonna take a guess here and say she got a mutated dna gene that made her immune. That's my guess. Then this doctor comes here and tells Marlene he can make a vaccine.... last I check, you can't really alter the gene of an already entirely made person. You can't change your blond hair gene to black etc etc. Soooo how exactly would they have done it ? This is not a bacteria it takes control of you. You can't really fight it. The only "cure" I see is just Ellie passing her genes thru her children. That's how humanity is probably the only way TLOU humanity would survive. Survival of the fittest. Only the ones with the mutated immune gene would survive. Yes, that means you can't heal or prevent the people not immune from getting sick, but that's the whole point.

Again I'm no doctor but my logical brain is convinced of this HC and just thinks Joel's action or Ellie non sacrifice or whatever. There was no cure. There never was they never will be so they should not feels guilty of not "saving the world" I know only Ellie has that issue ( but she is the only one alive in the end sooooo) but I wish she could know that her surviving didn't doom the humans more than they already were.

Overall, TLOU is a beautiful story about what it is to be human in the worst conditions, but I think I'll only watch season 1 for my own mental health. Part 2 did give me 2 fully blown panick attacks, and I dont think I can watch Bella scream at Pedro being beaten to death in HD without going thru another one.

#the last of us #tlou #my thoughts and headcanons #i cried so much i looked HORRIBLE #legit cried for like 2 hours after i finished part 2 #imma do what i do with all my trauma and prentend it never happened #part 2 ? i dont know her

[krabmeat]

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

 - enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

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

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work. 

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time. 

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different." 

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger. 

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice. 

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak. 

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine. 

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up. 

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white. 

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier. 

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back. 

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

#krabs kreates #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #philza x reader #philza x y/n #philza x you #techno x reader #techno x y/n #techno x you

[darthkruge]

heyy Megan, I'm trying to do a character study on Anakin but im finding very limited information online. what do you think are some of his worst and best traits? his personality, humor and like his values? thank you so much,, hope you have a good day/night

omg hi!! thank you for asking me!!

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it 

anakin skywalker character analysis

best traits:

intelligence, overall skill, curiosity 

anakin was building droids from scraps when he was a child. he spoke huttese and basic from a young age, as well. he’s an insane battle strategist, wonderfully skilled in battle/with a lightsaber, and incredible pilot! he can pick up new skills quickly, as well. i’m just gonna link this post by @chokemeanakin bc it just sums it up real nice.. but yes smart boy love him

compassion, capacity for emotions, empathy, understanding

anakin feels things deeply. i’ve talked about this a lot before lol. but yeah he is frequently in conflict over the sheer weight of the emotions he carries. further, as a jedi, this is not something his peers could relate to. but he always tries to be there for his friends and would do anything to ease their pain. and i think that anakin seeks to understand others. he’s spent so much of his life feeling alone and like no one related to him; he wants to know how other people work, feel, and think.

loyalty, friendship, caring

anakin is so fucking loyal to those he loves. and, tying into my previous point, he loves deeply. he cares, he always has. he treats droids as humans and forms attachments, even though they may be forbidden. he held onto that need for love, for connection even after he joined the order. and he would defend those he loves til the very end... 

selflessness, protectiveness, bravery

anakin would literally dive headfirst into danger to save someone he loves. he doesn’t care about hurting himself or honestly whatever happens to him, as long as those he cares for are safe. 

worst traits:

impulsivity, recklessness

i think we’ve all seen anakin be a bit impulsive at times... sometimes, he just doesn’t think everything through. this is especially clear when someone he loves is in danger. anakin’s lost so many people that when he’s faced with the threat of losing another, his judgment can become clouded. 

insecurity, jealousy, fear

anakin is frequently jealous, which stems from his insecurities. he was probably conflicted a lot; brought into the order as a young child and told he was the chosen one. the weight of the galaxy was placed on his shoulders and, yet, he was held back in classes as a padawan, he didn’t make rank (canonically). i think these things are what allowed palpatine to manipulate him; palpatine knew anakin was afraid, insecure, and, yet, arrogant (my next point dw). he tapped into this and because anakin and the council did not have much mutual trust (aside from like obi-wan), it was easier to get to him. especially because palpatine used anakin’s fear of losing padme and his unborn children to do so. fuck palpatine bro- 

arrogance

yes, anakin was insecure. yes, he was also arrogant. let me explain myself. he occassionally rushes into things without thinking, thinking he can handle them. i think a lot of this stems from being told he was the chosen one from such a young age. that title combined with his skill?! it makes sense he’d internalize it. i am now going to stop myself before i rant about how the gifted education system is a fuckfest. this is coming from someone who spent years in that program. anyway-

personality/overall rant about his life/motivations:

i think i summed up a lot of his personality within the best and worst traits because i got ahead of myself but im going to say some more!! i think a lot of anakin’s personality is dependent on his deep capacity for emotions. you can see that throughout ROTS, he was conflicted almost all the time. he grew up as a slave and all he wanted was to protect his mother. he built droids to help her and competed in podraces to tryand get them anything that could help. 

then, he was taken to the order. suddenly, all these amazing traits he has make sense!! but then the person who’s supposed to train him (qui-gon) dies after anakin’s only known him for a short period of time. anakin’s attachment issues are abundant (i don’t think i need to explain that one) so of course he grows close to obi-wan! but obi-wan was trying to be strong for anakin. even though obi-wan struggled himself with attachment, he tried to be strong and put up a front as a “good” jedi for anakin to look up to. while this was helpful, anakin probably just felt more conflicted, as no one in his life could relate to the bredth of emotions he felt. this caused him to be more introverted and withdrawn (i talk about that in this post)

then, he loses his mother, she dies in his arms. the only person he’d wanted to protect from a young age, who he left to join the jedi, dies in his arms. he blames himself for this, thinking he should have gotten there faster, should have done something more. he probably also blamed the jedi, to at least some extent. why do these powers matter if they can’t save the people he loves? i believe he acted out of anger, killing the tuskens, because (at least to some degree) of the jedi. instead of teaching him how to express his emotions (pain, fear, loss, grief, etc.), they train him. to some degree, he might think all he’s good for is these skills. so he acts out of anger, slaughtering them. 

and then finally he finds someone who loves him in the way he wants to be loved. padme stays by his side, even after he killed the tuskens. she sees the good in him and treats him as a man, not a prophecy. but once again, this motif of fear remains! he has to hide this love, one of the only pure and good things in his life! he has to live in fear every second of every day because, if the council finds out that he found happiness and love, everything is ruined. 

but then he starts getting the vision’s that padme will die. and not just padme, now his unborn children could die, too. the one thing he has that is good and purely his could now be ripped away. he knew he was helpless, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it by himself. the council isn’t that helpful, telling him to learn to let it go with the force. while that might help any other jedi, it just pushed anakin away. he would never be able to just surrender and let go to the force, not when the life of his entire family is at risk! 

and he finds palpatine, someonoe who has spent years trying to manipulate him. but palpatine is smart, he’s cunning. anakin didn’t know what the real intentions were and, truly, he probably didn’t want to know. he was blinded by his fear and if anything could save padme, he would do it. then the council try to get him to spy on palpatine. again, conflict. anakin’s loyalty is repeatedly questioned and pushed and prodded, he was probably so confused! he didn’t know who to trust. but, when you combine the current situation with his backstory with who he is and what he cares about, it makes sense why it all happened. 

this is what i mean when i say conflict. he was pulled in a million directions constantly. and we all know how his story ends and i don’t want to cry so i’m not gonna detail it...

also: i’m not saying any of this excuses all of his choices, but it does explain them.  

humor:

lowkey a dork

he is. and i love that about him. you can see this in the way he flirts with padme sometimes... like floating the pear to her and the whole “i don’t like sand” thing. he’s a fucking dork. can’t exactly blame him nor do i hold it against him! he didn’t have many close friends growing up and he was like pining for padme for years so it’s not like he spent that time creating a playbook

he’s also witty!

i think this comes with his intelligence; he’s witty and he’s quick. example: “general grievous, you’re shorter than i expected.” i mean he’s no sass-king obi-wan kenobi but anakin definitely can hold his own in a verbal sparring match! 

also i headcanon him as having horrible puns but loving them!

values:

love, friendship, connections

at his core, anakin just wants to find someone who understands him and his emotions. who can relate to him. he wants those connections; in fact, he actively seeks them out. love is a key part of his identity. i talk about this in this post about his love languages so imma just link it there!

success, validation

tying into his determination, anakin wants to do well! he pushes himself and i think he’s a perfectionist, too. you can see this in the way he holds himself as a general; he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t not care. he understands the responsibility he has in that role and he takes it seriously! and just in his overall skill level, even though he was a bit of a child-prodigy, he clearly spent a long time training. he probably also had some imposter syndrome going on and was constantly trying to prove his worth. 

----

uhh yeah i think i got everything?? yes?? he’s so complex and i legit love him immensely. doing character analysis for anakin is my favorite thing in the entire universe! if anyone has anything they want to add, please feel free!!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker character analysis #anakin character analysis #this is a rant i apologize #anakin thoughts #character analysis

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

Burning Question

"No, it's fine, you were just curious. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I disallowed curiosity?"

-

aka i got sick of seeing fics abt any of the mercs being trans that were also super fetishistic so :V some soft stuff ft pining engie

-

It was only after an experiment gone wrong had caused Medic's shirt to catch fire that Engie had ever seen him shirtless.

Not that he was actually itching to see him so, just that it kind of amused him when he ran to get the fire extinguisher he kept in the corner of the room only to turn around and see that Medic had practically thrown his shirt off and was stomping at the flames until they'd all gone out.

They both took a moment to stare at the smoking heap of what used to be a slightly crumpled dress shirt before Engie sprayed at it anyways for comedic effect, eliciting a giggle out of his lab partner and making Engie smile in turn.

He had to admit, Medic was rather.... attractive under all those layers he wore.

Muscular but not in a body builder way, more so for.... practicality. Which was always something Engie could appreciate, in more ways than one. He was also starting to go soft around the middle in a way that, for lack of other coherent thought, really made him want to give him a squeeze.

His eyes were also drawn to all the scars that covered his body. All the mercs had their fair share (respawn wasn't Perfect after all) but it wasn't much of a surprise that Medic would have more than the rest of them considering he was a prime target for getting murdered.

What he really noticed, though, was the two somewhat faded scars that ran on either side of his chest and towards his back, ones he clearly hadn't gotten from any sort of battle encounter.

Medic eventually noticed him staring, squinting slightly as he tried to decipher what exactly Engie was looking at. When he realized he seemed sort of... self conscious, suddenly clasping his hands together in order to get his attention.

Engie blinked.

"Shucks, Doc, I- I'm sorry-"

"It's fine, I'll be. Uhm. Back," Medic said hurriedly, picking up the remnants of his shirt and his vest and tie before making his way out of the workshop and towards his quarters before Engie had any sort of time to object.

Engie sighed before swearing under his breath.

He turned back to what was their shared workspace, scratching the back of his neck before moving to start cleaning up the mess they'd made.

It was after several minutes that he'd noticed Medic had returned, having come back after changing into a t-shirt and pajama pants. He'd been sort of waiting in the doorframe, Engie beckoning him in as he closed up his tool box.

It was a little while before either of them spoke, both of them wordlessly moving around to put various things away.

Engie cleared his throat.

"So uh. You're trans?"

"...Yes, yes I am."

"How come you never said anything? You know I am too."

"I know, I just don't- ahem. Like. People. Knowing things about me," Medic stumbled out, still avoiding Engie's gaze as he separated their notes into two different piles, one of rejects to be shredded and the other of things to save for later.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't've stared-"

"No, it's fine, you were just curious. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I disallowed curiosity?" Medic chuckled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.

"Yeah but if you don't want to talk about it then I shouldn't make you talk about it," Engie frowned as he flipped through the shred pile to make sure nothing salvageable had made its way in there.

"I've noticed you're kinda private about stuff. If being trans is something you don't wanna share with other people then I shouldn't have made a big deal out of it."

"But you didn't. I'm the one who made a big deal out of it, literally all you did was look which is, to my knowledge, not a crime."

Engie tried to open his mouth again to argue but Medic quickly pinched his lips shut and gave him a Look signifying that he wanted to drop it.

He held his hands up.

"Ok, ok, I give."

"Thank you."

The two of them returned to their silence as Medic took back the shred pile and opened Engie's desk drawer of other stuff that needed to be shredded, Engie himself clearing off all the scrap metal and putting them into the large container he kept them in. It was only after they'd finished cleaning that either of them had spoken, the both of them sort of awkwardly standing next to each other for a while.

"Hey Doc, I uh..."

"Yes?"

"I really am sorry, even if you think I have nothing to be sorry for. If you ever want to talk about stuff, know that I'm here for you but if you don't, then that's fine too. You're my friend. And I care about you," He said softly.

Medic pursed his lips as he mulled over what to say.

"...Thank you, Herr Engineer. I think I'll uhm. Be on my way now," Was what he ended up deciding on. Engie bowed his head slightly and nodded, about to turn and leave himself.

However, he was dissuaded by the feeling of two strong arms suddenly wrapping around him, having to take a moment to process that he was being hugged before he reciprocated.

The two of then admittedly stayed like that for a little longer than either expected but even when Medic had pulled away, it still didn't feel like long enough. He ended up hesitating before leaning down and softly head bumping him, Engie letting out an amused huff as he did so.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest soon or I'll hit you so hard you won't have a choice but to," He started gently, corners of his mouth turning upwards as he mockingly threatened him. Engie chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Ok, ok, I will. Sleep well, Doc. See you tomorrow," He smiled, waving as Medic made his way out again.

When he was sure he was out of earshot, Engie let out a sigh, rubbing his face as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys to the workshop door and walked over to the lights to turn them off.

With all the thoughts swimming in his head, he wasn't exactly sure if he'd be getting any sleep that night. But he had to admit, lying awake in bed for hours and thinking about his unfortunately growing affections for his questionably qualified teammate wasn't exactly the worse option in the world.

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 science party #medic x engineer #fic #am #c's writing #will cross post this in a bit

[galadrieljones]

Some Biblical Symbolism in TWD 10c (Team Delusional)

Okay so I am VERY behind on the times, due to a ton of family engagements lately; however, now I’m trying to catch up and in doing so, I’m just going to make posts looking at all my recent, random notes from 10c and beyond.

This post starts by looking at the symbolism in the Bible verse that’s referenced in 10.19 “One More.”  This one verse in particular lead me down a lot of other Biblical rabbit holes, and I’ll try to talk about how they pertain to existing Team Delusional arguments, plus some other stuff!!

David and King Saul

The Bible verse I took down in my notes for the episode is 1 Samuel 16, specifically 16:21. This chapter is about God sending Samuel to anoint a new King of Israel after Saul basically pisses him off. Samuel chooses David, a young shepherd and son of Jesse, who is also a wonderful musician. He plays the lyre.

I remember reading about David when I was looking into Daryl/Biblical imagery. Initially I took Daryl’s fight w Beta in season 10 up in that tower to be a David vs. Goliath fight, but after reading more deeply into it, I scrapped the comparison. I read more into David and was actually more taken with him as relatable to Beth. More on that and how this impacts TD in a minute.

In 1 Samuel, King Saul of the Israelites is being tormented by demons (sent by god ofc) and sends his servant to bring him a musician to soothe his brain. The servant suggests David who comes to play the lyre for him and befriends his son. Anyway, consumed with fear that David is going to oust him, Saul tries to kill David, so David goes on the run, as a fugitive, basically until Saul and his son are killed, and then David returns and takes his place as King of the Israelites.

Anytime Gabriel is in the scene, there’s Biblical shit. So I was on top of "One More.” I didn’t really know what to make of the story with Saul and David and why it’s featured in this episode, so I talked to my husband who doesn’t watch the show (which is good because he’s coming at my questions unbiased) but he knows the Old Testament super well. I asked him whether Saul was supposed to be a “villain,” or merely a tortured king. My husband said Saul is not a villain, but a king who is meant to symbolize the unique plight of kings and leaders often characterized as the Sword of Damocles, ie: the sword always hanging over their head, and how the constant threat of death and/or usurpation can push them to great fear, madness, paranoia, and hasty decisions.

As the de facto leader of Alexandria, Gabriel is now in the same exact unique bind for which he sold out Rick to Deanna in season 5. He is potentially becoming a Saul figure, with the pressures of leadership causing him to turn away from his faith. This is a MAJOR shift in character dynamics for the show, as well as a big reference to Season 5 (an important season for TD, obviously). Season 5 Rick is also a very good Saul, as we see him falling to madness, hubris, and fear, and on the clear path to losing his people and his throne. I think we’re witnessing Gabriel now in a similar scenario in which his actions have finally begun to bear the weight of his responsibilities as a leader. He kills Mays because Mays is a killer and unhinged. It’s why Rick wants to and eventually does kill Pete in season 5. Gabriel killing Mays startles Aaron, and it isn’t pretty, but to him, it’s the right thing to do, even as it belies his cloth and belies his faith to do so. 

With his eyes, one light/one dark, as well as his priesthood, Gabriel is a perfect canvas for this sort of Saul struggle, especially now, as Michonne is gone, and Siddiq is dead, and he is not only the leader of Alexandria but now a father to a child, and this only further complicates his motivations. I also think this whole thing, ie: Gabriel as Saul might be another purposeful recycling of seasons 5, which 10c has been doing a lot. As has already been pointed out by @twdmusicboxmystery​, “One More” also rehashes a lot of themes and scenarios from “Still.” The entirety of 10c is consumed with cycles.

Saul and David through the Team Delusional Lens

ON THAT NOTE: Beth is an interesting David figure, since David’s main role before he becomes king is as a musician. You probably remember mention of David in the Leonard Cohen song “Hallelujah,” which references both David’s music as well as his later affair with Bathsheba. David’s music soothes the king, and we could say the same thing about Beth in seasons 3 and 4. Further, Dawn in season 5 is another Saul figure who has lost control of her kingdom due to weakness, fear, and selfishness. Beth, like David, is taken into her service (where she DOES sing, and where she calmly professes, “I still sing”), befriends another of Dawn’s young orderlies (such as David befriending Saul’s son), and then when she becomes a threat, Dawn *attempts* to kill her. Ofc in the Bible David just goes on the lam until Saul is killed by the Philistines, and then David becomes king of the Israelites. In TWD, Beth “dies.”

So by this allusion, if applied in template fashion, after Dawn (Saul) is killed, Beth (David) would return to Grady and become its new leader, something I think TD has discussed before.

Other Biblical Allusions and Curiosities:

Jesse and Samuel: Characters from 5b-6a. Samuel of the Bible is a child prophet, and Samuel of TWD is a “sensitive” child who, in the opening of 6.8, is surrounded by a lot of prophetic imagery, including a drawing of a blond person tied to a tree while surrounded by walkers, a toy firetruck, as well as the ants, breaching the window and swarming a cookie, which predicts or mirrors the walkers breaching the wall. This scene is full of TD imagery, which I’m sure other theorists have already rehashed, ie: the tree trunk, the number 8, even a cyclops (one-eyed) action figure on the dresser. Jesse is Samuel’s mother in 5b, and until I read more into Samuel, I didn’t realize that Jesse was a Bible character as well, and that he was David’s father, while Samuel is the prophet who anoints David as king. These are mostly minor characters, but as is a lot of stuff in season 5, they pack a lot of symbolic punch.This is also just me pointing to the fact that TWD has used more direct symbolism involving Samuel and David before, as well as indirect symbolism, and just general allusion. Samuel is also connected to key imagery that appears again and again.

^ (This is not the first blond we’ve seen tied to a tree in TWD.)

Gabriel the Archangel: Gabriel the archangel is a very interesting character in the Bible, as he is seen as not only a fierce defender of the Israelites, but per Christian tradition, he is also the angel who visits the Virgin Mary and foretells the birth of Jesus Christ. I know that TD has discussed Father Gabriel as a Beth “proxy” or as symbolically juxtaposed with Beth, often referencing him as a Sirius symbol, post-partial-blindness, echoing the one-eyed dog from “Still.” The Biblical imagery is consistent with this argument, especially when combined with argument that Beth is a Christ figure to be resurrected, ie: Gabriel is here to “herald” Beth’s return. Ofc, this could be applied to Rick as a Christ figure as well (who sacrifices himself to save his people); however, we know that Rick is not dead, which is inconsistent with the crucifixion, ie: Jesus literally “died” (or was perceived to have died) and came back to life. Further, in Christian tradition as well as in John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Gabriel is credited as the angel blowing the trumpet that signals the return of Christ to the living (Gabriel’s horn). What I’m saying is, Gabriel is a herald. He heralds both the birth of and the return of Christ to the land of the living. It again does not feel like coincidence that Gabriel is introduced during season 4, at the very beginning of Beth’s arc.

Dark vs. Light: Does anyone else find it extremely fishy that Gabriel, Beth, and Daryl are all shown with prominent costume/features that juxtapose dark/light? What I mean is: Gabriel’s eyes, Daryl’s ankle coverings, and Beth’s shoelaces at Grady--all feature one dark, one light. Tbh I am not sure how this is even a Biblical thing (other than the overt good vs. evil connotations), but it just strikes me as further credence for how these characters must be connected. Gabriel as a reference to the one-eyed dog is more evidence tying them all together, further, the light/left dark/right arrangement is the same on Beth and Gabriel, whereas it is reversed on Daryl. I have always found the choice for Beth’s shoelaces to be strange, obviously correlated to Daryl’s ankle coverings, but I’m not sure why. I do know that this kind of visual imagery is not happening by mistake, though I don’t have a good hypothesis for what this means beyond the connection itself. Or, not yet at least. Give me time lol.

Anyway, I think this is all I have for now! If anyone has any thoughts or additions, please let me know. ^_^

#the walking dead #episode 10.19 #one more #bethyl #team delusional #beth greene #beth greene lives on

[spn-is-baee]

Lydia’s Legacy

Author: Me

Info: This is a story i am working on that’s none important and I wanna post the first chapter draft here to see what tips I can receive. Overall the story is based off a horribly vivid dream I had regarding a young witch and the coven elders/supremes.  

So, here’s my chapter one. 

Lydia rode the train from Amber Court to Lilac Lane. She didn’t know why but her familiar brought a note addressed back to here. The familiar sat around her neck, judgingly. She felt powerful with her partner around her neck; Dermon, the familiar, was large and a powerful serpent. He protected Lydia from danger or led her to new and exciting adventures her coven may disapprove of. This time it was more frightening.

Traveling wasn’t Lydia's favorite, but when Dermon brought a note from an anonymous source simply stating “Only you can,” it definitely sparked some interest into the young girl's mind. Though she knows she mustn’t travel without some kind of communication, she goes without those means. She feels the aura radiating off the note; the feeling of plea and desperation. Something about it should be secret. 

Hours on the train and still two stops to make. If it wasn’t forbidden in her coven she’d teleport to this place, she’d lose her means of power for life and be banished to mortal worlds. Something about this trip was anxiety ridden. Something was going to get her in trouble with the coven but she couldn’t figure out what. She had found a small pamphlet on her coven. This place wasn’t like others. Her coven was a large community of maybe upwards of 15,000 witches and warlocks. Her father and mother are high leveled witches working alongside the elders in top secret bunkers where only they would know where. Being in this coven meant giving up a normal mortal life and swearing your soul to the god and goddess of Wicca. This swearing gives people powers they couldn’t ever imagine, but there are laws and if broken there are some EXTREME consequences to ignorance. 

Lydia had scraps with the Elders, for mostly using small spells to attack her bullies or using her familiar to put fear into those who crossed her. Familiars must also be summoned with certain precautions. Most of which Lydia ignored. Her parents have begged the Elders multiple times that they’d get her under control and was only given minor slaps on the wrist. Lydia promised them the last sixteen times she’d stop doing such reckless things, but where’s the fun in being a good witch?

Watching out the window, one stop away from her destination. She wondered what her parents may think of her disappearance. The trees sag as the air blows by them from the train. Leaves thrashing around when picked up off the ground. The sky was dark though, maybe a storm was coming that Lydia wasn’t informed of? She ignores that thought and her eyes wander to a figure in the middle of a field they pass now. It gave such strong negative energy which caused Lydia to peer out the window closer, she watches as this figure raises its small petite hands. The fingers of this decrepit hand form and move into a spell, only used by outlawed or banned witches who avoided power removal.

This spell sent off a powerful blast of energy coming straight for Lydia's part of the train. Dermon slithers off her into his humanoid figure to cover Lydia as this energy crashes into the steel car. Lydia braces herself while being held protectively by Dermon. The energy tho wasn’t to destroy the car but it seeped through the cracks of the car and made their way to Dermon and Lydia. 

She moves past Dermon, his long arms reach for her to keep her from this entity. They grasp her arm and pull her to him, “S~stay.” 

“What is it?” Lydia’s smaller frame turns toward him, her face full of worry and wonder.

“S~something that s~shouldn’t be here,” Dermon hates to admit it but he didn’t know what it is, but something within him said to keep her away. His only job was to protect her and he couldn’t mess that up. 

“Dermon, let me see it.” She looks curious and strict, she wanted answers and if risking her life meant to figure it out, she would take the chance every time. Dermon simply shackles his head in disapproval. 

“Absolutely not, Mis~stress,” Lydia was annoyed with this answer and cast a simple protection spell over herself. She pushes Dermon gently to the side and goes toward this energy swirling around, “Lydia, no.”

She didn’t listen and continued to reach out to this entity. Almost instantaneously the energy hits her hand and swallows her whole.  The entity becomes black in color and Dermon rushes to get her out but is blasted backward into the adjacent wall. A groan escapes his lips and now he begins panicking. He knew he had no power to save Lydia, he may have just lost the only person he cared about. 

Lydia watches her familiar from inside the entity. She felt her heart drop with fear as her friend was thrown away from her. “What do you want from me?” She pleads.

No response. 

Suddenly a rush of power surges through her. Something she has never felt before. Her head flies back as her eyes light with a purple hue. Her body felt such pain right when she realized the power intensity. She lets out a scream so bloodcurdling, she thought her voice box may explode from the stress. Dermon hears her cries and yells for the entity to stop, though he knew they wouldn’t yield. 

As fast as it happened and as fast as they tried to move, the entity disappears without a trace. Lydia was unaware of her body being lifted into the air, her body felt paralyized. Once the entity dissipated her body fell to the floor of the train. Dermon rushes to her side.

“Lydia? Please respond to me, my s~sweet,” His voice cracked in fear, he loved Lydia so much and couldn’t bear being masterless. 

“I’m fine, Dermon. I’m alive.” Her voice was weak and she moved as though her bones were as stiff as stone, “Don’t sweat about me, I saw the entity throw you. Are you alright?”

“Miss~s, I am fine. I didn’t get engulfed by such a negative force. Are you feeling well? Shall we go return home?”

“No, I think the note had to do with whatever just happened.” 

“That’s ridiculous~ss,” Dermon looked at Lydia with anger, but Lydia saw fear in his eyes. 

“Dermon, who sent me that letter, you know it and won’t tell me?” Lydia sits up, her thick thighs bring her body up. She waits for Dermon's response but instead a horn and the abrupt stop of the train pulls her attention. She grabs her bag and races for the door, Dermon simply follows her out. She reaches a hand out back away from her toward Dermon. She doesn’t look to him, only creates this sad gesture to ask him silently to go back to his serpent form. He sighs but obliges to her request. He gently grabs her hand and kisses it gently as he turns back into his dangerous form. Slithering himself up and around her neck to rest while they travel.

Lydia's alternative style clashes with the cottage-core vibes of the village she arrives in. It evokes looks from everyone, not one of menace but curiosity. Most smile and move about their day. These witches were a part of her coven of course, though she knows the different separations of the powers happens. Her family's power relies on the energies and darker arts. Those from these more light and flower-ish communities are nature reliant. She always wanted her powers to be based on nature, but those who receive can’t choose. 

Her eyes caught those of another young witch, her age. The young woman's skin tan, not from the sun. She was naturally glowing a carmel color off her cheek bones. The girl's hair was bobbed and blonde. The ladies eyes were a fierce and electric blue. Lydia glazed at the outfit, Her shoes were elegant loafers that were perfectly rounded to fit her feet. The socks she wore were cuffed and edged with lace. The dress reached right below her knees, and the color of a dark denim. underneath this denim dress sat a puffy armed shirt in white to collide with her socks more flowingly. The girl smiled shyly at Lydia with a small look of flirtation. Lydia had never been one to initiate a pick up line, but this girl drew her in. 

She walked up to the girl with a small amount of confidence. Right when she stops in front of the girl, a small feline crosses between the two. All black, usually a sign of negative forthcoming, but Lydia never saw it as that. 

“Apologies for my familiar. He happens to be protective over me.” Her voice was soft and created this warm happiness in Lydia’s heart. Something she wasn’t used to. 

“No worries, darling. Very handsome familiar you have,” Lydia's longer hair falls in her face a bit as she gives a smug smirk toward the girl. She pushes the hair back and sees the girl give her a once over. Lydia follows the girl's eyes down her own body seeing her outfit. She felt straight out of a fan-fiction with her black ripped jeans, more rough ripped than most she sees on morals. Hers are self created. Then her over-sized black sweater hung low on her body as one shoulder slid down her arm to flash her very bright red bralette. 

Their coven community was very mortal styled. They weren’t in the 1800’s so they kept up with the style choices of modern times. Elders believed being dressed similar to morals created a safer hiding when they built up their communities. This helped keep moral witch hunters at bay.  

“Your style is very dark core, huh?” The girl laughed softly as Lydia seemed distressed over her outfit choices now, “You’re cute,” the honesty and bravery intrigued Lydia. 

“What’s your name?” Lydia stands up straighter and smiles at the girl warmingly. 

“My parents are kind of a wild card when it comes to name. I have what most people would refer to as ‘quirky,’” the girl giggles and looks around a minute almost as if to summon courage, “I’m Persephone, most call me Steph because it’s less flashy,” she seemed embarrassed by her name. It was perfect for her, she embodied the overall presence of the goddess. The story of Persephone and how she reacts or acts about things almost aline so far with what Lydia had seen so far. 

“I’m Lydia, keep my digits cutie,” Lydia hands the girl a slip of paper and winks. Steph smiles and nods. 

“I will, Lydia,” Steph turns and walks away disappearing from Lydia’s vision. She watched her leave with curiosity, something about that girl made her heart beat faster. 

“Don’t go around giving random people things~ss, Lyd,” the serpent hissed at her. 

“Quiet,” She silenced Dermon with one simple word. Had he hurt her enough to make her hate him now?

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #witchcraft #witch #witchy #warlock #coven #cottage witch #altar #modern witch #witches #grunge #lesbians #pagen #greek gods #persephone #hades

[danseru-kun]

Ancient and Android - Chapter 3

FFVII and DBH crossover fanfic (Aerith x Connor)

Ao3 link: Ancient and Android

Ffnet 

Genre: Friendship, Drama, Romance (?)

Rating: Teens and Up

Chapters: 3/7 (tentative)

Summary: At first it bothered Aerith how humanlike Connor was in appearance.

Chapter 3 - Social Integration

Aerith knew that Connor was following her the next morning. He kept a distance, and despite his best efforts to be invisible, he stuck like a sore thumb in the slums. A blue jacket, black tie, and leather shoes - he looked like someone that would belong in Sector 8's business district.

Normally, Aerith would have taught stalkers a lesson or two but she knew Connor wasn't ordinary. Especially after the events of last night.

I am not alive. Please, do not worry about me.

It became a little game - how good was Connor in chasing? Aerith delivered all the requested flowers within an hour to her customers, but it could have been achieved half the time if she didn't take unnecessary paths. Aerith amused herself climbing on top of the scrap heaps, navigating through the maze of towering metal. In luckier days there were spare parts she could pick up for some extra gil.

The android trailed behind. Aerith caught him flipping and tossing a coin whenever he stopped. One time she caught him staring blankly at nothing, as motionless as a statue.

Aerith seized the chance the next time Connor took out his coin to play. All it took for her was to squeeze between some boxes, duck under a pipe or two, and climb above a small, abandoned shanty to sneak behind Connor's back. The woman jumped on the android. "Gotcha!"

"Hello, Aerith." Connor didn't jolt or showed any physical reaction to Aerith's surprise.

"Happy to see me again?" Aerith crossed her arms and grinned at him. She was tempted to ask again about last night but waited for him to bring up the topic if it was his intent. He seemed okay outwardly, Aerith mused. Last night he was covered in mud, clothes crumpled and his LED glowing red. Now Connor's ring was back to blue, shirt perfectly ironed. He smelled strongly of laundry detergent.

Connor tilted his head slightly, keeping a neutral expression. "I wanted to talk to you but I was thinking of the best approach. I apologize for following you around, but you just move around so fast."

Aerith hummed, Connor seemed sincere. "And now we're talking. See? It wasn't so hard."

"Are you busy today?" Connor asked and Aerith shook her head.

"Whatever it is, I'll make time for you." The woman winked.

The android fixed his tie and gave her a gentle smile. "My internal clock says it's now 8:42 AM. If you're free later noon, would you like to join me for lunch?"

"Lunch?" Aerith blinked. "What a very tempting offer, I wonder..?" She would have said yes in a heartbeat, but she wanted to see how Connor would react. He looked confident, not breaking eye contact.

"It'll be my treat, consider it as a thank you for yesterday." He leaned closer. "So, what do you say?"

-------

Aerith could hardly believe it when she arrived at Jimmy's Cafe. She had to double-check if she got the location correct, as she had never ventured near Sector 5's gated Shinra communities. A server by the door greeted her and confirmed a reservation. Scented, cool air filled her mixed with the sugary smells of cakes displayed by the counter. "How middle class," she murmured.

Her lunch "date" sat in a perfect posture, hands folded on his lap, staring blankly at the flowers on the table, plastic ones to be precise. It was reminiscent of Aerith's first day at a daycare when she was told to wait and behave until an adult arrives. "And there is Connor, sitting at the corner." Aerith flashed him a wide smile.

"Hello, Aerith." Connor's greeting was delayed. His ring glowed yellow as he slightly tilted his head. "You look lovely."

"Thank you for the compliment, Connor." Aerith sat down and straightened her skirt. "But, I'd like you to elaborate." She leaned forward, chin resting on her palm, watching how his blue lights shifted again to yellow. It was nice to figure out his body language.

"I really like your dress. I think the floral embroidery reflects you as a person, and they're very colorful." He said each word like they were a product of intense contemplation, and he was proud of himself. Connor was just so sincere. "Did you make it yourself?

Aerith held back grinning and just nodded. The server handed her the menu and everything in it was just beautiful. "Whoah," she breathed. Everything looked so good - burger, pasta, pizza, shakes, that she could hear her stomach growl. Her excitement stopped temporarily upon seeing the prices. One dish in the cafe cost as much as three days' worth of allowance for food.

"You can order anything, don't worry about the price." Connor explained he received funds for his social integration program, and he was putting it to good use. There was nothing else to spend it on except for getting his clothes washed. How convenient would it be to never need food, water, shelter, or sleep? The menu set in front of Connor lay untouched.

"I want the extra-large bovine burger. Add roasted mushrooms and melted cheese, please. Oh, make it double layered. Then... I'll have the strawberry shake too. I'll order dessert later." Aerith made sure she picked the priciest burger. She would have ordered a salad, which was the most expensive item on the menu, but half of the ingredients weren't available.

The server named Chloe nodded then handed them a flyer. "Strawberry shake is a great choice ma'am and with just an extra 500 gil you can upgrade it to natural. We just received a fresh delivery of strawberries from Kalm, so we're discounting it ten percent for the rest of the week."

"Have you ever tried real strawberries, Aerith?" Connor asked and Aerith shook her head. "I supposed it's better than artificial flavors." He turned to Chloe, "we'll take the upgrade, please."

"I can't wait to try," Aerith clapped and bounced on her soft, cushioned seat.

Connor didn't order anything. Chloe was confused initially, but the android whispered something that caused the server to nod and leave and process their order. With eight minutes for food preparation, there was a lot to cover to fill the silence.

"Thank you for last night Aerith. If you didn't intervene, I would have sustained more damage."

"No problem, what matters is that you're okay. Are you?"

"I have self repaired and now my hardware is in optimal condition." Connor tapped the table with his finger and averted his gaze. Yellow lights. "It shouldn't have happened. I miscalculated, I should have found a more effective means of escape or self-defense."

The way he talked about the experience was a lot softer, uncertain of himself. Aerith remembered seeing fear in him the night before, which he never admitted. You're in denial. She leaned forward, looked straight into his brown eyes, and gave him a light squeeze on his shoulder. "Hey, don't beat yourself over it. It's not your fault. Repeat that. 'It's not my fault.'"

"It was. I failed my objectives." His tone shifted into something more neutral, colder.

"Say it: Not my fault." She insisted.

Connor's lights remained yellow. "It's probably accurate to say it's not one hundred percent."

Aerith frowned, then sat back and sighed. Oh well. "They're not just wererats, they're criminals and they ambushed you I presumed. You're outnumbered and they had a taser." Connor still appeared frustrated, her words having no effect. "You really have the right to be upset. Being chased by a group of men and getting tasered sucks! I hate it when it happens."

His LED glowed red for a second before his brows furrowed and his jaw tensed. "How often does this happen? How do you manage to escape?"

"Oh Connor, it's not literal. I didn't really happen like that, people say that when-" Aerith sighed. Explaining language and literature was never her strength, and it's not like she ever needed to. She laughed awkwardly as Connor stared at her with confusion. "Sorry about that. But! It can and I'm prepared for it. I'll also save you if you need me again," she winked and the food arrived, faster than expected.

The two-layered burger arrived steaming, filling the woman's nose with blissful aroma. The melted cheese spilled over to the wooden board the meal was served on, while the mushrooms hardly fit inside the bun held together by a tiny toothpick. She flashed a smile to Connor out of gratitude before taking the piece of art between her hands.

Aerith's sank her teeth onto the soft bun, the hot, creamy cheese, and the juicy patty that was salted and peppered so perfectly. She never tasted meat so pure and natural. She could only close her eyes as she savored her first few bites. "This is… so good…"

When she opened her eyes again, Connor was watching her with utmost concentration, hands clasped together on the table. He seemed fascinated and was content watching her for a few minutes. Aerith decided it's time to give it a nickname: the Connor Tilt. It's similar to how puppies react when you talk to them- the slight angling of the head and intense curiosity. Connor also had the same warm, innocent eyes and Aerith liked them very much.

"I assumed you liked the food?"

"Of course!" Aerith nodded, then Connor went silent again. "Are ye jealous, Connor? Why don't you buy your own burger?" She asked after swallowing a mouthful.

"No, I'm fine. It's just that... " He blinked and briefly looked away, hesitating."I did some calculations. I never thought you can consume a meal of that size."

Aerith laughed. "You have no idea what I can fit inside my mouth." Wait. That might have sounded wrong. Her cheeks flushed and she resisted the temptation to expand the conversation with more innuendos. She sipped on her strawberry shake the first time - sweetness and sourness, balanced by milk. It tasted so familiar, but also something new and amazing that she couldn't describe in words. This is the real thing.

"Aerith?"

"Yes?"

Connor locked his fingers together. "Another reason why I invited you over is that I'd like to propose a partnership."

Ah that was the real reason. Aerith slowed down and gave Connor full attention. "Partnership? That's interesting. Go on."

"Your ability to navigate through Sector 5 is superior to mine. I wish to be effective in performing my tasks and it's necessary to improve my efficiency in covering distance."

"Oh yes, I'm super good." Aerith raised her chin and twirled her curls with her finger.

"I determined that the best approach is to learn from you. If you are willing to help me, you don't need to change your routine. I'll just follow you and help with your flower business if needed."

If Connor was an ordinary guy, Aerith would have taken it as an excuse to spend time with her. "Just curious, why not ask help from one of the army people? They can shoot their way through the monsters and you can scan your power grids in peace."

"I'm a prototype for a line of androids that Shinra envisions, designed to integrate harmoniously with humans and also operate independently. To incite fear is against the purpose of my creation." He quickly looked around, leaned closer, and whispered, "Just between the two of us, every day Shinra receives an average of 13 requests to rescue lost army grunts."

"Oh, I didn't know they're that helpless." It's normal to get lost in Sector 5 without a guide. Sometimes Aerith wondered if trash heaps were alive, they just seem to move every day. Her childhood was filled by horror stories of garbage giants that eat cats and kidnap children. Certainly, they weren't enough to keep Aerith inside the house. In fact, she wanted to see one and disappointed that they weren't real. "What do you have to offer in exchange?"

"I can treat you for lunch or dinner. How about a meal every two kilometers covered?"

Aerith could laugh again. Instead, the woman held back and just bit her lip, watching the android's reaction. Two kilometers? There was nothing wrong with the offer, but Connor was just so determined. He meant every word. Before giving her final answer, she called Chloe back and ordered dessert. "Connor?"

"Yes?

"It's a definite yes for me. I'll show you around, not just Sector 5, but all the places in Midgar I know."

Connor gave her a warm smile. "I'm pleased with your answer. I'm looking forward to working with you."

"However, I'll have to say no to the free meals for now. I'll decide on something but not today. Don't worry Connor, I'll be fair." The second time, Aerith winked at the android.

"Of course, that's understandable." Connor nodded attentively. "I would prefer to know as early as possible, but adapting to unpredictability is one of my features."

Dessert arrived finally: palm-sized chocobo egg flan. Two spoons were provided as Aerith had requested. "I'll help with 'social integration' as well." She lifted the plate to Connor's eye level, bringing the flan closer to his face, shaking it slightly. "Wiggle, wiggle, wobble, wobble, see that? You should be like this and loosen up a little."

"Got it. I will adopt a more casual approach." The android's lights went from blue to yellow briefly.

Aerith tasted a spoonful and relished the flavor. "I assume this is the first time you asked someone out for lunch?"

"Yes, the first experience," Connor revealed he was only activated three weeks prior. As he didn't require sleep, he worked around twenty hours every day, only cooling off his parts every five hours.

"You're doing great," Aerith flashed him a smile. "Connor, I can tell that you worry so much. I want you to know that I'm enjoying this lunch. I'm having a lot of fun right now." He didn't answer. She scooped a small portion of the flan with the other spoon and brought it close to Connor's lips. "Come on, try it. I wanna see how you eat. You can eat right?"

"Just small samples. For analysis." Connor's eyes went back and forth from the flan to Aerith. With a sigh, he gave in and took the spoon. He ate very slowly, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Goat milk, brown sugar, chocobo eggs, vanilla," he said and licked his lips. He took another bite in the same, elaborate manner. "Minimal bacteria, generally safe for consumption. The food is prepared according to standards."

Aerith giggled and leaned closer. She could order more to keep this all day.

#fanfiction #crossover #Aerith Gainsborough #Connor #RK800 #DBH #Connor x Aerith #crackship

[peachesandfiction]

Blazing Love

Pairing: Chaeyoung x Female Witch (healer) Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

The sky turned red as another blaze of fire was shot towards the village. You and Chaeyoung were surrounded by your fallen team, fighting to shield each other as death grew closer, it’s cold hands reaching for your ankles from the ground below.

You were exhausted as your magic was used so much to only end in death.

Quiet fell over the battlefield as the enemy grew closer and closer, their army a dark color against the now orange sky. You could feel the fear seeping into your bones like the tea leaves in the hot, steaming water that had fallen off the table this morning when the first explosion shook what felt like the entire universe.

You remember rushing to the bed room where you pushed Chaeyoung out of the way of a falling book shelf, papers and books flying everywhere.

Your voice had been panicked, almost squeaking as you asked, “are you alright?”

Chaeyoung had just nodded before the two of you hurried out of the house to see what was going on.

The village had broken out in terror.

Your sad eyes scanned the field now, there was no village to even be terrified. Just the two of you. You let your eyes fall onto Chaeyoung, hers were wide, but her jaw was set. It was almost as if she were ready to take on this army alone. Your hand slipped into her’s, squeezing in reassurance before pulling her further into the woods.

She stopped you for a moment, pulling her hand out of yours, “what are you doing?”

“Saving us, Chae. Look around you, we can’t take them on. I don’t want you to die.”

“So we are just going to leave,” Chaeyoung asked, her voice rising in a wave of confusion and determination.

Instead of answering her right away, you pressed your lips against hers. The taste of smoke and battle filled your lungs as you pulled away, “I don’t want to leave either, but we really need to Chae. There’s no other choice, we will just die and then there will be nothing left of the village to even save.”  

“I can stay here. Stall them,” She suggested, her tone desperate.

You shook your head, “no, Chae-” A bright ball came out of the sky, landing onto Chae’s back. Her screams filled your ears as you quickly took her into your arms, landing into the bushes near-by. Your hands pressed against the hot skin of her back, not even wanting to look as you pushed the last of your magic onto her, healing the wound as quickly as you could before you let the darkness that had begun to shadow over your sight take over.

When Chaeyoung awoke, there was the sound of wood scrapping against metal and the smell of broth filled her nose. She looked around. The room was small as a thin cloth was draped over her torn clothes. There was still a faint burning smell drafting off of them under a small open window. The scenery outside was beautiful as green bushes and colorful flowers rested under the light blue sky, “where am I,” she mumbled but then the wooden door slammed open.

A small, old lady stepped in, carrying a tray with a small bowl and cup on it. Her eyes widened at the sight of Chaeyoung awake, “good morning! You’ve been out for a long time now.”

“Who are you,” Chaeyoung asked, her instincts pushing her towards the open window, ready to escape danger, but the old woman just set the tray lightly down on the table near the bed.

She nodded, “I can see why she chose you. I am Y/N’s old master, Wander.”

“Old mater…” Chaeyoung was struck with curiosity because you had kept so much of your life hidden from her.

Wander laughed, “I guess she never talked about me. She always did keep more to herself. I told her that might end up her down fall, but I think she might have found something else that can do more damage than that.”

“What?” Ignoring Chaeyoung, Wander turned to leave, but she was stopped, “where is Y/N?”

“Follow me,” the old woman exited the room, the short train of her robe pulling behind her. The hallway was small and crowded with shelves full of bottles and colored liquids. Chaeyoung found herself trying to shrink, worried about touching any of the potions as Wander stopped in front of a blue wooden door, “here she is.”

Wander stepped out of the way, scooting past Chaeyoung and back towards the front. Chaeyoung stood in front of the door, her hand pressed against it as she took in a deep breath. She worried about what she might see.

Letting her shoulders fall, she pressed against the door, letting it gently squeal open.

Inside was a room that was similar to hers, but it was full of shelves. Some had bottles of similar colored liquids to those outside, others had jars full of unimaginable things. Chaeyoung kept her eyes off of them, looking over at your slumped figure. Your body laid haphazardly sprawled on the straw mattress, her eyes watched your chest rise and fall. She didn’t remember or even feel her body walk over to your form, her arms wrapped around you as tears covered her cheeks.

She woke up again, the sun now set, the sky dark. Her eyes felt as if they pulsed along with her heart while her head hurt. She put pressure onto her head with the palm of her hand as the other still lay on top of you, feeling your heart beat.

When the pain ceased, she rested her head on your chest, watching you, “I’m so happy you are alive.”

“I don’t know if she will be alive for much longer,” Wander’s voice came from the open door.

“What do you mean,” Chaeyoung asked, sitting up.

“When a witch, especially one that is a healer, uses up her power. She basically ceases to exist. That’s why she has been asleep this entire time. I’m sure her body is basically hibernating until her power is restored,” Wander walked more into the room, a bowl of water swooshing in her hands before she places it on a stand near-by, water splashing over the edge of it.

“I knew that she needed to rest after she exhausted her power, but I always thought it was limitless,” Chaeyoung said, playing with your hand unconsciously. Suddenly her grip tightened on your hand, “I’m sure she will wake up just fine. My girl is strong.”

“Having trained her myself, I can’t disagree with you. Y/N has been one of the most powerful witches I have ever seen, even more powerful than the duchess herself.”

Wander reached up to the shelf above her, pulling down a green and orange potion before making her way over to one of the jars across the room. She plucked out what looked like a part of a dead rat from one of them. She dropped them all into the bowl, a brilliant chartreuse colored smoke blowing from it. Wander sighed, picking up the bowl and bringing it over, but Chaeyoung stopped her, “what is that?”

“It’s to help speed up the process of her power..” she paused, “at least I hope it does, I never had to use it before.”

Chaeyoung watched as the liquid was poured between your lips. Wander didn’t say anything as she turned to walk out, but Chaeyoung called out quietly, “thank you.”

“it’s no problem dear,” Wander said, “it would be a shame to lose her.”

It was hours later when Chaeyoung finally emerged from your room and made her way over to the kitchen. Wander was bustling about, tossing potatoes up and Chaeyoung watched in wonder as they peeled on their own before floating over to the huge pot. The same happened for carrots and green onions that chopped within the air as well.

Wander, with her back still turned to Chaeyoung, asked, “are you hungry? The stew should almost be finished.”

Chaeyoung nodded, before clearing her throat, “yes, please.”

“Take a seat then darling.”

Chaeyoung sat down at the small wooden table, watching the wooden spoon in the pot turn on it own as the fire turned green. The smell of it all filling up the room and causing Chaeyoung stomach to grumble in impatience.

Distracted by her want to eat, she hadn’t even noticed Wander sitting across from her now. Chaeyoung lightly smiled at her, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Wander said nonchalantly as she snapped her fingers, and two bowls full of the stew floated over to them.

“How did you get us here? How did you find us?”

“The two of you appeared on my doorstep. I guess Y/N not only used the last of her magic to somewhat heal your back, but also teleport the two of you to safety.” Wander suddenly got up, feeling Chaeyoung’s back, “how are you feeling by the way?”

“I hardly notice the pain, Y/N is in a worse spot than I am.”

“If you saw your back, you would think otherwise. I did my best to replace skin, but I can’t do anything about the scarring that occurred.”

“I just want Y/N to wake up, I could care less about scars.”

Wander nodded as the two of them finished their soup in silence.

In the darkness of the room, Chaeyoung felt movement next to her and a groan. Her eyes fluttered open against the sleep as she looked over at you. You were shaking, your arms twitching as your head twisted from side to side. Then the shouts came, “no! Stop! Give her back! Stop! Never!”

Chaeyoung was quick to throw herself at you, running her hands down your face and along your body, “baby. My love, wake up. You’re alright.”

Your eyes shot open, falling upon the beauty of your girlfriend before your sight began to blur from tears, “Chae.”

Chaeyoung began to shush as she whispered, “you’re okay. I’m here… Wander! Hurry!”

“How do you kno-”

“I’ll tell you later. I need to know you are alright and going to stay awake.”

There was a slam and then suddenly the face of your old master was before you, her eyes searching yours. A sharp nod, “she’s alright Chaeyoung. I’ll fix her up another potion quickly.”

Chaeyoung’s body slumped as she held your hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. Your arm weakly reached up, wiping a few away before you couldn’t hold it there anymore. Chaeyoung had found her way to the crook of your neck, nuzzling into it as she whispered, “you’re okay. You’re okay.” over and over.

“Of course I am okay,” you joked, your voice weak and straining from lack of use.

“Chaeyoung, move,” your old master’s commanding voice called and then a slimy texture was crawling down your throat as you did your best to force it down. She nodded before patting your shoulder, “good.” She then turned to Chaeyoung, “keep her awake for the next twenty four hours.”

“I will. Thank you,” Chaeyoung said before pulling you up from the pillows and into her arms. “Don’t you dare ever scare me like this again.”

“Scare you,” you laughed weakly, “sure miss. I want to stall an entire army.”

Chaeyoung couldn’t even be mad as she looked into your eyes, amazed and joyful to see their beautiful color once again. She didn’t even say anything and instead, she just pressed her lips against yours, a hunger moving them as she pressed you back onto the mattress, her body reacting to your hands slowly moving over it. Her stomach as full of excited butterflies, happy that you were alive, but nervous that something can happen again. Even when she felt you try to deepen the kiss, the potion helping build strength back up into you, she pulled away. The two of you were breathing hard as she looked at you, her stare hidden to the outside world by the curtain of her hair. A grin spread across her face, “I love you.”

You answered back with a kiss, it becoming sloppy as you tried to say, “I love you” in between her lips, wanting to breath the words into her.

For the rest of the night, restless hands roamed as awakening laughs were exchanged. The joy of the two of you being alive, even if the weight of the destroyed village rested on your shoulders, for the moment you were just enjoying that the love of you life was alive and right there. That’s how you were determined to keep her, no matter what.

[sexy-orc-singles]

Erandur tries to ask more personal questions. The trip up to the Nightcaller Temple ends with the Dragonborn full of conflict. The source of the Nightmares is about to be revealed.

Chapter 2/?, 1.4k words - 1 / 2

“I have to wonder if your coming to Dawnstar was a coincidence, Dragonborn...“

The trek up to the Nightcaller Temple was certainly a cold one, and the Dragonborn was tired of having to wipe snowflakes off the mesh covering his eyes. But even if it was the warmest part of Skyrim, he didn’t think that would help any with the goosebumps he had over his arms. They were unable to be seen of course, but he sure as hell felt them. The cold wasn’t what brought them though- instead it was an uncomfortable twisting in his stomach that warned him of the tower the pair headed up towards. It was definitely a smart choice to have left Rayya behind- he had a feeling that death would be plenty in this tower. He hoped the priest wouldn’t be included in it.

When Erandur spoke his wonders, the helmet turned to face him, encouraging him to continue. The Dark elf chuckled softly.

“That helmet makes it hard to know what you’re thinking.“ He told him good naturedly. “By that, I just mean that I have been seeking spiritual guidance from Mara for quite some time now. I have to wonder if She has sent you here, or at least influenced you.“

“I came because I heard about Dawnstar’s nightmares.“

“And I wonder if you hearing about them was Her answering my prayers.“ The priest explained. “The tower on that hill is our destination. People around here call it the Tower of the Dawn. I'm not familiar with the tower's history, but it was deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established inside.“ Erandur let out a low sigh, reaching up to pull his hood closer around his head. Even he was feeling the chill it seemed. “The temple's been abandoned for decades now. Ironic isn't it... a ruin within a ruin?”

“It’s certainly something to think about. I’m sure some would claim it’s a curse.“ The Dragonborn replied. “Or others who would claim a punishment for daedric worship.“

“Perhaps,“ He noted. “Regardless, it feels good to finally be able to help the people of Dawnstar. I... helplessly watching them suffer has been hard on me. I’ve been trying to keep their faith in Mara, but perhaps only so much can be done by the Gods.“

The dragonborn let out a low chuckle. “I learned long ago that if I wanted something done, I had to do it myself.”

“Well, don’t think you’re by yourself now. I need to help these people.“ There was definitely something behind those words, but the Dragonborn couldn’t comment further. He was hiding too much himself to question anyone else.

Though it seemed like the Dragonborn’s thoughts had almost been read. The Dunmer turned to him as they walked up to the tower, a look of concern on his face. “My son... you have much stressing you right now, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?“

“Well... you had your housecarl speak first for you. And you don’t exactly seem comfortable talking much period. A man your size could easily speak with a much louder voice.“

“I’m just quiet, that’s all.“

“And the heavy metal armour? Even when safely inside and warming up by the fire, you didn’t remove your helmet. There’s not a scrap of any recognizable features on you.“

The dragonborn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just being protected.”

Erandur shot him a concerned look, but didn't pry further. "Whatever you say, my son. But if there's something on your mind..."

He let the rest sit unsaid between them. The Dragonborn just awkwardly nodded to him.

As they came up to the entrance of the tower, the priest stopped him. "I need to warn you... Years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge. They were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar."

The helmet tilted slightly in curiosity. "...alright." He replied simply. What would that have to do with what they were doing now?

"Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call "The Miasma," putting everyone to sleep." Erandur quickly clarified, realizing the other man probably wasn't sure where this was going. "The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process."

He knew exactly where this was going. "And since it's a gas, opening up the temple might air it all out, causing everyone to wake up." The Dragonborn added once the priest had finished. "So we're going to have to deal with some very drugged up orcs and priests."

Erandur gave him a somber nod. "Exactly so. The longer an individual is exposed to the Miasma, the more the mind can become damaged. Those who've been under the effect of it for extended periods of time have been known to lose their minds entirely. So not only will we be dealing with, er, "drugged up" orcs and priests..."

"They're going to be pretty crazy on top of it." He finished. "So we're not going to be getting through this without blood on our hands."

Erandur turned to look at the door. "Unfortunately so, my son. It hurts me to think about it, but we don't have a choice. We have to destroy the source of the nightmares found within if we want any hope of helping the people of Dawnstar."

The Dragonborn, still with a feeling that he was missing something, nodded and adjusted his stance somewhat. His shield was lifted, and a deadly sharp ebony axe was held tightly in his hand. It was better to be prepared then not, though the look Erandur gave him after made it clear that the was jumping the gun somewhat.

"The interior is sealed off. The entry hall is fortunately safe- I have set up a shrine of Mara within." Erandur explained to him. "Though, I don't blame you for your quick judgement, I should have said something. But I can assure you, there won't be any danger upon first entry. Unless you consider a single priest and his shrine a danger." This was said with a small smile, and it earned a chuckle from the Dragonborn. It certainly reassured him. He set his axe back by his side.

Erandur led the way inside. “Just a moment- I’ve set up an enchanted barrier, just in case anyone wandered in for whatever reason.” He explained.

The Dragonborn nodded to him, then made his way over to the shrine of Mara against the wall. He felt... conflicted, almost, as he stared down at the peaceful face in the center. Did he pray? Were any gods even paying attention to him? Did they ever?

His head began to swirl as the worries kept coming. Did Akatosh pay attention to His Dragonborn? Was he chosen because of faith the god had in him, perfectly designed to beat Alduin? Or... was it the opposite? Had what he believed to be a ‘loophole’ untrue, that he could fall at any time, and he was chosen for that purpose? Was his insecurities about people knowing who he was actually something the god chose for him- so he could be easily replaced? It wouldn’t be hard for a god to find someone else, to make them don the armour he wore and to make them save the world if he fell. Was he chosen not for his abilities, but for the fact that he could be easily exchanged for someone better?

Would he ever get an answer?

His trailing thoughts were interrupted by a hand being placed on his shoulder. He jumped and looked to the priest as a faint smell began to fill the air. He assumed it was the Miasma- he could see the obstruction blocking the opening had been removed.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your prayer,“ Erandur said softly. Of course he would assume that. The Dragonborn removed his hand from the shrine. “But we should get this done as quickly as we can. Come- I need to show you the source of the nightmares.“

“Lead the way.“ Replied the armoured man, trying to keep the weakness he felt out of his voice.

#Erandur #oc: Dragonborn #Skyrim #The Elder Scrolls #my writing

[hotcocosharing]

Double Troubles - the reunion. Part 8

Recap or familiarize with what happened click here

Picking up a little further ahead than where it was left off; the cast of Glory Days 20 years later have come back together for a college reunion; with life experiences, maturity (we hope) and are all hoping, for the least to have a good time. Let the magic unfold.

OC Eriko Sato & Midori Katayani

Voltage Canons Yukihisa Maki, Shunichiro Tachibana, Toshiakia, Shinichi Kagari & Rikiya

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

OC Eriko Sato & Midori Katayani

Voltage Canons Yukihisa Maki, Shunichiro Tachibana, Toshiakia, Shinichi Kagari & Rikiya

Midori’s POV

“Mommy! Pancakes! Plllleaaaease?”

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“Well then can we watch a movie? Frozen?”

“Alright. Pancakes it is!”

As darling as she can be - Sakura’s fascination with that Disney movie is really one I wish she didn’t have. Curiosity and inquisitive are both traits of hers I think are wonderful - yet if I (just as every other other in the world) has to hear ‘Let it go’ one more time, I might just scream. Batter into the bowl and pan on the stove. It doesn’t take long once we’re home and in a semi-regular routine for things to just feel /normal/ right. They say home is where the heart is - but for me, it’s anywhere in the world with my little girl. Flipping a few pancakes in the air and topping them with jam, berries, icecream and cream; it’s an unexpected knock at the door this late at night that catches both of our attention and causes my heart to skip a beat. Not in lust or love or possibility - yet in fear of what’s behind the door waiting for me.

“You stay here ok? Mommy will be back in a minute.”

The wide toothed smile framed by pancake filled cheeks pulls a chuckle from between my lips as I head over; knocking still occurring and begin to un-clip my earrings - dropping them into box on the hallway table, feet starting to sore as I wish whilst scratching my neck that I’d taken the shoes off earlier - the heels, my defeat. “I’m coming!”, I call tentatively getting up to the door; twisting the lock to the left and pulling it open - not bothered to check through the peephole although unsure of who was on the other side. Breath caught in my throat and eyes unable to shift from the man who stands before me, I smile and lean my weight against the frame.

“I thought you’d still be at the party. Come in…”, voice low, words short, mind churning a million and one alternative possibilities as to why he’s here, I figure that an impromptu introduction is in the cards - or so I felt until someone else is doing it for me.

“Hello! My name’s Sakura. Are you a friend of my Mommy’s? She’s making me pancakes. Do you want some? They’re my favorite. What’s your name? Why are you wearing a funny bowtie? Oh wow… you’re really tall. Can you pick me up so that I can reach the sky?”

Toshiaki’s POV

Taking Eri’s wrist without a second thought; it’s time to find some alone time and scrap up a little privacy as whilst she’s at face value, seeming to keep everything together - a sixth sense; jut feeling, just tells me this not so somber, lost little girl on the inside is about to cry. Closing the door behind us both in an equipment room - I fold my arms across my chest and wait in silence for the strike of conversation or at least, to what I’ve done, a reply. Not getting anything; I feel obliged - well no, like it’s a duty of care - for me to get to the bottom or at least help solve what is happening tonight.

“He can be a real dick - I know, but Eriko c'mon; you shouldn’t let a boy make you cry.” Cupping her face in between my hands; it’s a gentle swipe to brush away single rolling tears which threaten to stain her cheeks and hopefully make her smile. “So… nice jacket. Do I dare ask who it belongs to?”

Alright - so perhaps they weren’t exactly ideal words of choice, but the conversation is now flowing and converging; and through some kind of muffled out-pour of emotion and veiled fable, I manage to understand enough of what’s happening and well, has been. Maki - Eri - those two names enough linked up together; even this long after they’ve been in the vicinity of one another just lewd trouble. The jacket belongs to a guy she knows and from the name sounds familiar though I’d rather not jump to conclusions…. yet.

“You’re an intelligent, strong, able woman. I know that most guys are absolutely terrified by you and thus they revert to adolescent behavior but… heck… I think if you gave some people a chance you’d see that they’ve changed since college.”

The advice is obviously easier said than done - but I can tell it’s not enough. “As face value - I don’t think anyone was expecting you to show up tonight; and sometimes it’s hard to open up and allow something in that you spent years and years shutting out for one reason or another, but… the beauty of life is what we all get second chances. Or third, or fourth if we’re lucky enough - and I think, a girl like you Eriko just needs to be ok with that idea. That effort and purpose make changes, not pot luck. So c'mon… make those tears stop and then we’re going…”

'To where?’ I hear her manage out with a choke; a girl who made me see life for better rather than worse, take my hand as I offer to lead her out and away from this place of memories it’s time each and everyone one of us put behind us but not forget.

“Maki’s. It’s like a 20 minute drive from here…. and then… Midori’s.”

Shunichiro Tachibana’s POV

Eyes fixed on the glowing green eyes from the little human with one hand wrap around Midori’s leg while the other is waving a half finished pancake in the air. It isn’t exactly shocking to picture my ex girlfriend as a motherly figure since she has always wanted a family of her own- a desire I could not fulfill during our time together. But the puzzling question of the father’s whereabouts or her home that looks rather like a showroom from magazine than an actual home weigh over my shoulders- who is the father? Is there a man in the picture? Why did Midori invite me for a trip to Paris? Yet the curious gazes rising from below seems to be top priority now.

“Ummm yes, my name is Shun and wow pancakes. Oh I wouldn’t miss it for the world, your mother makes the best pancake, doesn’t she?” Feet hanging from the stool with lips covered in cream and maple sauces, I envy how carefree this little soul who has zero troubles on her mind but her favorite food and all the love from her mother.

“I came to drop this off.” Sliding the envelope alongside the table top, unsure of what appropriate facial expression I should be making. “You don’t have to come but it’ll be nice to see you.”

Eriko Sato’s POV

“That ass face is the last thing I wanna see right now. As for Midori, she pretended to be my friend, she’s afraid to tell what’s really on her mind cuz I was a trust fund kid! So she could think whatever the fuck she wants because I’m obviously dead to her. And if you EVER try to convince me otherwise, I swear, Toshiaki this will be the last time we see each other!”

Be fair, play nice, don’t take it out on Toshi. Telling myself that repeatedly only makes my blood boil more, angry at myself- how could I let some history and bickering get into my head?! Who cares what they think of me? Midori, Maki, Shunichiro, Rikiya, and Shinichi haven’t stayed in touch or showed the slightest interest about my life in the past two decades so why does it hurt so damn much? They searched for me? How moronic could that doctor be? He knew I was going away but he never shows! I left him my contact with Toshiaki! Sweat begins to run down my face, yet the shivering chills make it hard to breathe as well as the few tears threatening to spill out for the second time.

A light tap is soon followed by a head popping through the door and my eyes couldn’t roll any further. Great, another guy, expecting his one on one time. “Awesome Shinichi, you’d take me home. Let’s take this reunion elsewhere.”

Shinichi Kagari’s POV

Streetlights hum along the empty streets, soft yellow glow of lights illuminating the apartment complex and closed stores nearly by. The emptiness seems right, matching the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach while I drive along, stealing a few glances at Eriko every now and then, a bittersweet smile keeps curling from the corner of my lips. Satisfied at the unexpected outcome- leaving a reunion that isn’t even mine to begin with but having just the person I wish to see all to myself.

The breathtaking Tokyo evening view is nothing compared to the tall lonely femme fatale whose heart I’ve once captured and let go through my fingertips.

“Quite a view you’ve there.” The elegant turn around could easily set my cold heart on fire but the wave of sadness from her red puffy eyes does the opposite.

“You should have seen the bedroom.” She shrugs nonchalantly, lips forming an alluring grin that I have always found it impossible to resist.

“I don’t want to be a fool and assume,” a long overdue apology chocking in the middle of my throat as I blur out some lame excuse. “so do you prefer a warm cup of milk or a glass of wine before bed?” In hope to hear a witty remark about not going to sleep or some sort of kinky sex preferences might be her bedtime story, it’s a struggle of taking a step to join her or turn my back again. The sound of doorbell is yet to be determined as saving grace or distraction, nonetheless, the goddess of mischief heads towards the door and unfold whatever mess is waiting for us.

#glory days #double troubles #shinichi kagari #rikiya mononobe #voltage oc #voltageocrp #irresistible mistakes #after school affairs #eriko sato #yukihisa maki #toshiaki kijima #midori katayani

[thatparkinsongirl]

WORLDS.

Friends. No one ever told you life was gonna be this way. The apartment complex has seen better days but it’s a roof over your head and that’s more than enough to be grateful about. There’s a pitch-perfect coffee shop on the corner and the people on your hall are actually fantastic.

Disaster. It’s the end of the world. Everything in ruins. You’re running, running, just trying to survive these last days. You sleep fitfully, even then still alert, one hand tangled with theirs and the other gripped around a gun/wand. Or alternately, you’re the crackpot science team that first discovered something was wrong. You’ve all been locked up behind miles of reinforced steel in the CDC? NSA? Area 51? trying to solve this disaster. You were pulled away from your families, not able to save them, not able to take anything. Coffee, coffee, MRE meals. Microscopes, slides, formulas scribbled across white boards trying not to give in to the impending doom.

Inversion. This is not the world you know. Here, Headmaster Riddle pats a young boy on the shoulder and gives some much needed advice. Here, Grindewald and Dumbledore strike fear in the hearts of all the muggleborns. Here, everything and everyone is just a little off center. Your choices define you. (Borrowed from here)

Darkest. Dark magic thrums through your veins, slick and oily. You crave it, live for it. The forbidden section has been your second home ever since the first time you snuck in second year. You are something to be feared. The magic you play with is going to change the world. It’s not about hurting people (sometimes an unfortunate side effect) or taking over the world necessarily (though that is a goal), it’s about this sickly curiosity in magic. How far can you can go? How many lines can you cross? LOOsely off this in which the golden trio go somewhat dark, https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334630/chapters/14514247. Particularly there’s a whole thing in which they bond themselves to each other in a fit of codependency which just yessssss.

Rich as fuck. Money, money, money. Money is the anthem of success. Fast life, shiny diamonds, the best clothes. Speeding too, too fast down the highway, hand out the window. Cops won’t pull you over; they know better. Your lives are a never-ending party. Super Rich kids by Frank Ocean.

Roadtrip bitches. It’s the summer before university. The last hurrah before you all go your separate ways. Long, too deep conversations around a fire while you all smoke. Roadtrip mix blaring through the speakers. Seeing every weird roadside attraction you can. Talking about growing up, childhood, fears, change. About how you could go a year without speaking to someone but they’re still, always gonna be your best friend.

Political. Is it the west wing or house of cards?? Are they corrupt as fuck, bribing and killing and manipulating their way or they earnest and honest as possible, hearts brimming with desire to make the world something worth living in.

PUnk. idk. Hip hop. DJs. Raves. Tattoo artists. Lighters. Smoke rising up into the sky. Motorcycles and a shit ton of leather. Graffiti in the alleyway behind the bar you own.

Therapy. Post-war, and it’s rough. The physical scars are easy enough to ignore. It’s several months before you break down and join the therapy group at St. Mungos. You all swear you’re only there for the free coffee and doughnuts. Phobias, triggers, panic attacks. Recovery. Late night phone calls cause you had the nightmare again.

Olympics. Fencing? Swimming? Hockey? Gymnastics? Ice skating? Or, I mean, alternately, they could be in the Quidditch world cup. Competitors who like mock each other but also hardcore root for each other. It’s a small community and you all have known each other your entire life. It’s been a fight but here you are on the olympic team, favorites for the gold. 

Doctors. Late night hours. 12 hr shifts. Narcissism. The ultimate god complex. Shitty coffee. Stress. Lost a patient today, saved a patient tomorrow. Fighting over who gets to be second on the awesome heart surgery. A quickie in the on call room because damn your ass looks fine in those scrubs. Quizzing each other over a quick lunch. Complaining about your attending at the bar on your first night off in ages.

Unspeakables. They died, struck down during the war and none of you could bear to survive without them. The plan is put together in the early hours of the morning, feverish. It’s stupid, selfish; all this to save one life. You all join the Unspeakables because the rumor is they’ve been working on creating new time turners. None of you care who suffers for this as long as you can get them back.

How to Get Away With Murder/I Know What You Did Last Summer. You’re tied together by an awful, terrible secret. None of you can risk turning on each other. You’ve made sure of that. Toxic people. Guilt. There’s a body in the morgue with your names on it. It was an accident truly but the covering it up that was deliberate. Maybe some unknown person knows and is blackmailing you all or maybe, maybe they’re just trying to get away with it.

Spaceeeee. Inspired by the Wolf 359 and the Strange Case of Starship Iris. Science. Space. Discovery. Futuristic. Bonding because you’re trapped together in a tiny space ship. Conspiracy. Suicide missions. Technology betraying you. The fate of the entire human race resting on your shoulders. 

Parks&Rec/Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Any job-lawyers, firefighters, coffee-shop. It doesn’t matter because they’ve become a tight-knit family. Work hijinks, skinny love probably, I broke your email after I sent you 20 cat memes in a row. office parties. a hint of danger and risk (ok i admit it i like the firefighter one best). My very first day I was driving around trying to find the staff parking and a car honked, whizzed past me, yelling something crude out the window. It turned out to be my new boss.

Dark Post War. With Voldemort dead, Death Eaters being rounded up left, and peace returned to Wizarding London for the first time in more than a decade, it’s easy to believe that all is well. (The problem is that there is no length that people won’t go to protect their peace once they get it back.) Conscription into the Aurors for eligible wizards is enacted to ensure a strong standing against any lingering Voldemort supporters. A man in a black robe is murdered in the street one night because a young, nervous Auror thought he was a Death Eater. Incredibly harsh sentences handed down for any war crime. When Hogwarts finally reopens its doors over a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, it’s to the complete eradication of the Slytherin house (there are rumors about what happens to the children that the Sorting Hat would’ve sorted into Slytherin) and the addition of core classes. It is not a school but a training ground. Certain shops in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade are shut down for “sedition” and “miscreant behavior”, most notably Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Known war hero, Hermione Granger, is tossed in a Ministry cell for two months for sedition, after she attempts to prevent the arrest of a werewolf. Released war prisoners, people like the Zabini family who did not bear the Dark Mark but who were afflicted with Dark families, and “potential dark wixen” are branded by the Ministry as a warning to the public. All the while, the Ministry reports capturing dangerous Death Eaters, spotting war criminals in Hogsmeade, about danger lurking everywhere. The official statement is that they are trying to right mistakes made after the defeat of Grindewald, if they’d taken a stronger offense then Voldemort never would have happened. What it boils down to though is fear and vengeance and the shifting tide of power. 

Darkest Minds. So I’m finally reading this series since the movie’s coming out soon. I’m only 6 chapters in thus far but yes! this plot! would! definitely! want!

Dark Academia. The Secret History!!! Probably, definitely a secret society!! Mystery! The most pretentious assholes you will ever meet. Arguments over classic literature. Speaking latin to each other so no one else knows what they’re saying. Tweed jackets. Fall in New England. Tea. No i don’t own a tv I believe they’re corrupting the youths’ minds. Insomnia. A 40 page treatise on the Odyssey. 

Alternate Fifth Year. In a world where the young slytherin fifth years spend the summer of between fourth and fifth year, watching their parents with disgust and trepidation. They are ambitious, devoted to self-preservation and they are smart enough to see that following the Dark Lord is a road to ruin. Lucius Malfoy comes back from Death Eater meetings, shaken, Mr. Nott Senior with a long cut down his face. No, the slytherins have no interest in a life like that. It’s too bad then that they’re not even being taught Defense in school. It’s luck that they hear about the group of students that have started practical magic in secret. Canon divergent fifth year where the slytherins join Dumbledore’s Army. Can start after fifth year too but like that’s where it diverges. 

Back Home*. When they say you can’t ever go home again, they mean it, because home isn’t a static location, it’s a word full of extra connotation. It’s tied to a specific time and emotion and feeling. A group of friends return to their small hometown for the first time in eight years for the funeral of a mutual friend. Some of them have vaguely kept in touch but for the most part despite how close they were growing up they’ve all drifted apart. A story about loss, growing up, nostalgia, fear, and friendship. You won’t ever the same kind of friends you had when you were young. 

Shadow Children (Margaret Peterson Haddix). Futuristic, dystopian. Every family is allowed ONLY 2 children yet secret 3rd children do exist, living in the shadows and scraps. Some are lucky enough to get a fake identity and freedom. So I read this series when I was like 11 or something and they’ve kind of haunted me ever since. I’d probably wind up disappointed if I ever tried to reread them but whatever.  Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the first book lately, in regards to all the school kids protesting gun violence and the people in power just looking away as more children die, and just viscerely reminds of the horror I had reading the end of the first book in which (SPOILER) one of the main characters goes to a protest on the front lawn of the white house esque government building, convinced that if enough them protest, if they demand justice, they can get it. Each and every person at the protest is gunned down. For   young me who had largely only read books where everything wound up happy as long as you were brave and honest and full of spirit, this was an enormous shock. Idk how this would work but yes!

CONNECTIONS. 

Bodyguard. Mighty, mighty need for this. You’re the ambassador or president or queen or minister’s kid and your parents hire a bodyguard. You resent their protection. Ruining your semblance of a normal life. Judging you. You can’t help slipping their protection. Heart to hearts. Shared truths. Grudging respect and whatever. Ugh and the sexual tension, more alive than a power line. The attack comes out of left field and it’s a mess. (This. So down to play this out as whatever characters in any world)

Death. Straight up angst here. Final battle death scene. One second they’re right there and the next there’s a flash. You hold your hands over the gaping wound, screaming for a healer but you both know it’s over. Tears mixing with blood. Maybe they become a Hogwarts ghost. (Any character, any sort of relationship-married, dating, siblings, best friends, we shouldve dated but now your dying my arms)

Toxic. Do I feel guilty about having a thing for fictional toxic relationships? Yes, yes I do. But does that change anything? no. “Oh, we broke ages ago.” But everyone rolls their eyes when you say it. Because neither of you can stop and everyone knows. A couple of drinks in and you can’t keep your hands off each other. There’s still jealousy and toxicness and protectiveness and posssesiveness. There’s a dent in the wall from the time you threw a lamp at them. And god, if you could just make it work but love just isn’t enough sometimes. I’d tattoo your name on my arm but i wouldn’t marry you(Any characters)

Married in Vegas. You two hate each other’s guts. You’re constantly trying to one up each other in front of the boss. And you both always have a different way of approaching a problem. You steal candy bars out of their desk and they keep getting you locked out of your computer somehow. But your both the best so of course your selected for the Vegas conference work is holding. What happens next?? well?? a lot of alcohol, you know that. Neither of you quite remember but those rings on your fingers might mean something.

Romeo and juliet. Mob vs. cops or Death eaters vs. Order.  Forbidden romance. Secret meetings. My uncle killed your father. You have a body count that would make them blush. Maybe you’ll turn states evidence for them. Maybe they’re just using you. (any)

Softsoftsoftsoft. Bakery and coffee shop across from each other. Skinny love. A lot of Troye Sivan and Hayley Kiyoko playing. Longing stares, blushing, awkwardness. All your friends say they are definitely into you but??? Or alternately, you co-own the bakery coffee shop and you’ve been dating since third year and your friends all want to kill you. Because ughhh noone should still be that in love. Some serious codependency and domesticity here. Like if anyone’s seen How I Met Your Mother-Lily and Marshall. (any)

Misunderstandings. Classic trope. Of course, you thought they were dating. They live together, steal food from each others plates, share sweaters, tease each other relentlessly, constantly physically affectionate. Really what were you supposed to think. Cue the miscommunication and needless pining and hilarity. (any)

Bonnie and Clyde. Gringotts robbers? Who knows but you’re criminals and you’re good at it. Three steps ahead of the aurors. Careless laughter, drunk on adrenaline. Drive it like you stole it by the Glitch Mob!! and End Credits by Eden!! (any)

Siblings. I’m sorry that all the others are relationship plots because I really do high key love a good best friends/siblings plot. Real siblings or we grew up together and i would murder someone for you siblings. They know each other better than the backs of their hands. Secrets are for other people. Soft plot-just them taking care of each other after a tragedy. Tough love-you fucked off to Paris because you couldn’t deal with your life and they dragged your ass back because when you were kids they promised not to let you make any irreversible mistakes. protective-just. they keep doing dangerous shit and risking their life and you have to knock some sense into their thick skull. Ridiculous-they are everyone’s worst nightmare, stuck together like glue, always causing trouble. Spitting gum down at people from the astronomy tower. Finding ways to beat the anti-cheating quills. Actually helping your sibling get rid of a body. (any)

Best friends/Squad. You all meet at the bar religiously after work. Got each other’s back still, always, forever. Growing up doesn’t mean you have to lose them. (all; I watched the whole first season of golden girls last night so I’ve got a lotta squad feelings. )

Parent and child. Honestly just this song. Heirloom by Sleeping at last!!!! You’re both trying your best but there’s always going to be this tension, these mistakes on both sides. Regrets, nostalgia, angst, softness, forgiveness. (any, but this song always gives me Draco-Scorpius and Harry-Albus vibes)

Eighth Year Partners. PostWar. After a review of Hogwarts’ records, it’s decided that the school year of 97-98 will have to be repeated for all students. In an effort to bring the students of all houses together to promote healing and unity, a random buddy system is set up. A Ravenclaw sixth year paired with a Gryffindor fifth year. A Hufflepuff and Slytherin second year paired. So on and so forth. Though Headmaster McGonagall believed it was a good opportunity, she was loathe to force any student into something they didn’t want, certainly not after the past few years. Thus her only fast rule for the partnerships was sitting together for two meals a week. Some took full advantage of the system, studying together, attending each other’s quidditch games. Others sat in stony silence during the required time only.

@ginevraxweasleyy @marcusflvnt @occlumensism

#my dears my darling ones i made a thing #by no means a comprhensive list im down to do literally anything in any plot in any world but this a few ideas i guess to jumpstart things #cries a few ideas #lollollol #plots