#thanks for reading. and thanks to the original artist. I tried to find them to link but nothing. so if you know pls tell me
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❝time will tell.❞
[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society.
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black.
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways.
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun.
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused.
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.”
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt.
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?”
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?”
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.”
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.”
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—”
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society.
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly.
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.”
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?”
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!”
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity.
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give.
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress.
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry.
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat.
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period.
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then—
“That’s Sirius.”
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit.
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.”
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!”
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.”
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either.
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.)
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.”
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.”
You grimace. “Which cousin?”
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.”
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.”
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.”
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.”
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.”
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice.
You nod.
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.”
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe.
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.”
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you.
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.”
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?”
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?”
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.”
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.”
“Oh, Harry. . .”
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?”
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath.
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly.
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?”
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.”
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?”
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes.
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.”
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be.
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space.
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered.
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved.
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease.
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open.
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”
Were you?
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.
Then, you find it.
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.
It’s a space on that wall just for you.
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.”
That’s all you say before you run out of the door.
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”
You don’t look back.
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks.
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.
“Certain,” You respond, yawning.
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.
“I know,” You say defeatedly.
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”
“I don’t know,” You say honestly.
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well.
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”
“I’m always right.” You pout.
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.
How lucky you are.
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.
“Avada Kedavra!”
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.
“No!”
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.
“Expulso!”
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.
“Accio wand!”
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.
“Peter?” You call out.
“Crucio!”
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.
“Defodio!”
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.
That just leaves one more problem.
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.
You just wanted to rest now.
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.
“Avada Kedavra.”
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man.
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.
end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders angst#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#remus lupin x reader#sunny's hp fics
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Finding a Job. What works for you? Intuitive Reading .
Money rules the world. But what is money when you can't even enjoy what your doing while getting it? Having a hard time sticking to one job? Not sure whats the best outcome for you to make money ? So here I picked out a few angel numbers, and which ever one you intuitively pick is where your hearts desires, soul purpose and skills in money making come in to play.
I hope you all enjoy !
Pick a number !
111 333 444 555 777 999 1111 2222
Now let the games begin!
If you picked ...
111
Doctors, Lawyers, Teacher, Scientists.. This is where your energy works best. Teaching roles are something that give you're heart a big glow. It just works.
If you also picked this group...
Originality. Playing Cards. Jokesters. Tricksters.
You're great at being 'The Fool'. Making up sceems and getting out without a scratch. You could be good at scratch offs, playing poker, winning one of those casino games etc.
When it comes to originality, you make things your way. New ideas, new punchlines. It all works in the end.
If you picked...
333
Farms, Animals, Gardening, Community, Volunteering, Working from home,
This group has a healing aura to them. They need spaces where its quiet, cool, and earthy. Making sure their in groups , surrounded by good people is what works best for them.
Sometimes this isn't work to them. Volunteering is something that helps you feel good and is apart of you're life purpose. Charitable acts suit you greatly.
Working with animals, tending to gardens, dog sitting, etc. Works best for you.
If you also picked this group...
Knitting & Design
I see you guys sitting up on a rocking chair watching the view from your porch. Its a fun hobby and it can make a good coin in the long run. If you have talents in the arts, this would be a great new hobby if you havent tried it.
If you picked..
444
Architecture, Design, Technology, Cameras, Mechanics
If you picked this number, you could be pretty good at creating designs for homes, video games, websites, cars, etc..
You're brain is really connected to the art of detail. You are also good at the art of programming. creating new designs through photoshop or any other special effects program.
Coding is also another thing you guys could be good at.
Making design for clothes is a major one for you! Go on a website that helps with creating hoodies and t shirts, shoes, etc.. And you're in there.
If you also picked this group... Movies, Cameras, Hollywood.. Broadway..
Step by step. Move closer, but go slow.. This group are a class act. 'Prince Energy' : Intuitively Im picking up on star quality. And with 444 being the number that you guys picked, its asking you to work harder. This is a long journey, not a quick paced job. You'll look back and say thank you to yourself for allowing the small wins to propel you to the big ones. Oscar worthy energy is here for this group!
If you picked...
555
Associations, Team Player, Big Corporations, Groups and Connections
Working hard underground is a big one for this group. Connecting to smaller associations will bring you to bigger groups. Finding ways to bring new ideas to the table will benefit you in the long run. With this group.
The vision I got for this group was Buzzfeed and Google corporations. You guys work to create and expand your ideas, topics, and so much more. Its relaxing. Not too much but not so little.
If you picked...
777
Mystery, Oracles, Spiritual Community, Books, Spells, Travel Abroad
Spiritual healers! You're gifted in the arts of knowing. This group is capable of creating spells for the collective and it turning out with some benefits. You could read tarot, astrology, or anything connected to mysticism.
Doing spells for money takes practice, but it can work out for you in the future if you know what you're doing.
Traveling Abroad is one of the best ways for you to make money if you picked this group! It doesn't have to do anything with the occult. You could be a makeup artist, a dancer, doesn't matter. Traveling helps you expand your clientele, and puts more money in your pocket. Its a wonderful job.
If you picked...
999
Travel Abroad, Culture, Studying Abroad, Intellectuals, Thought-provoking conversations, Museums, Podcasts
Your looks is actually something that will propel you to new heights in this lifetime. Your personality, thoughts, creativity, and ideas will attract many followers and it could open up new doors along the way. Be open to being yourself in large crowds. You never know who might be listening! ;)
Whatever it is your selling, try going over seas and take that risk. Join a circus. Do something you have never done before. The unconventional works in your favor.
IF YOU PICKED.....
1111
YOU CREATE YOUR REALITY
Okay so this group is pretty special.
I get strong Emperor/Empress energy for you guys. This means, that you are capable of manifesting and willing in your desires with gratitude and connection to source. You don't have to beg, cry, or plead for the things you want to happen, they simply just do.
Enjoy this, because it is sweet. it is magic. it is free!
2222
ADVOCATE. JUSTICE. CREATE YOUR REALITY. STARTING STRONG. FILM. ENTREPENEUR. GLORY
Okay so this group has an interesting vibe. You guys advocate with groups. Protesting. Learning more about the city you operate in and being apart of it.
In this reality, you have to speak it and it will begin to will itself in your reality. You must be prepared for the work and effort you will have to put into this. it doesnt come free, cheap, or easy. Commitment will play a big role in how you move into what you want.
However, this group has the ability to serve the community in some way, and it will come back and reward them with recognition.
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Bewitched • Part One
Description: Alex Turner x Actress! Reader
Being the current It Girl of Hollywood had it’s perks. New friends. An awesome (yet inconsistent) job. Invites to the coolest parties. And meeting lots of new people. One award ceremony to support your cast mate changes everything when you meet the Arctic Monkeys and it seems fate can’t keep you away from their lead singer. And after one kiss goodnight, you find yourself bewitched.
Word Count: 3,598
A/N: Hello to all those who read this! There is so much waffling on at the beginning to build into the relationship, and then kinda goes from there on. If the writing comes off poor, I am terribly sorry for that but school and sickness hates me apparently. Also there is not a set timeline for this series, as I don’t want to have to focus on where the Monkeys were and when yaddaya because that is just added stress. However, if I mention past relationships of Alex’s, I won’t refer to by name though it should be quite clear who is who based off descriptions. This is obviously inspired by Laufey’s song, Bewitched, being the first in a 4-parter series, and also takes direct lines from the song into this writing! I would love to know what you guys think, so please tell me your thoughts!! Thank you, and hopefully you enjoy xx
It was one of your favourite stories to plan in your mind when you were alone, trapped in the memories of the past. You weren’t confident on what point blurred the lines of friendship and romance, nor did you know why it took so long to completely forget about said lines. All you knew is that it did, and you had never been happier. While everyone knew that being the current It actress in Hollywood had severe cons obviously, they also knew that it definitely had several perks as well. One which came in the form of introductions to other celebrities – may that be through various award ceremonies, parties or red-carpet events. This particular night was for some stupid award ceremony that you were invited to in LA, one which you weren’t even nominated in a category for! However, your publicist told you it would be good for you to mingle with a new crowd and be there to support your peers. At first you were hesitant at putting yourself into the spotlight for no reason (you knew someone would take it out of context and you were simply waiting for the world of fame to turn against you) but when your cast mate for The Little Mermaid, Halle Bailey, said that she was going to be there you realised it would simply be fun if you tried. What’s the worst that could happen?!
And so, you got ready when the night finally arrived; your make-up artist gossiping away about the rumoured guest list and how many new people you could meet while applying light shades of purple to your eyelids. After what felt like hours listening to possibilities, you were finally able to leave. You looked gorgeous; you always did when you worked with your LA team. When you met with Halle and her sister Chloe on the red carpet, the paparazzi were quick to note the matching themes to your two characters from the movie — Halle embracing her mermaid beauty for Ariel while you wore purples for Vanessa. Posing for cameras was fun when you had someone with you, and all the people shouting your name for a brief interaction all screamed as you blew them a kiss before going inside linked to Halle’s side while Chloe held onto your hand. Thankfully the host of the ceremony sat you three together, as if understanding that the cast mates and their plus-ones should belong together. You originally wondered why Jonah or Melissa had not accepted the invitation, and it wasn’t until the tables filled up that you understood why.
You have been invited to a music award ceremony. Not an acting award ceremony, but music instead. It’s not like you mind, Hollywood knew of your admiration for musical talent in the industry and your undying support for it especially since working on the Disney live action musical. Yet, it just surprised you to be invited to such an event since you held no significance to it yourself. Perhaps that was why you were surprised when four men sat on the table aside the trio, all murmuring to themselves so that they weren’t overheard about their original topic. Introductions and some small talk later you discovered you were talking to the British band, Arctic Monkeys. They all seemed sweet, though their harsh English accents hard to understand to your posher one originally. While you tried to engage in their conversation, Halle and Chloe babbled along with the band about the music industry and their guesses for each category, you found it harder than normal. You simply sat there attempting to look like you understood, but it was evident it wasn’t true.
The man sitting aside you who you knew was the lead singer of the band redirected his focus onto you, eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “What about you?”
“What about me?” You responded hesitantly, looking confused. You hadn’t been completely paying attention to the conversation, and it appears that he had caught you.
“What award are you nominated for?” Another member asked, longer hair than the lead and you remembered him as the guitarist. Something Cook, if your brain served you correctly.
You cleared your throat, gracefully adjusting your hair with a manicured hand so it fell behind your shoulders just in case the camera snapped a photo of you, “I’m not nominated for any. Just here to support my girls.”
Halle lent over and clutched your hand, squeezing it tightly as she let out a quiet squeal. You turn back to the band, smiling widely. And that was it, the first moment you ever met Alex Turner. Both of you had assumed that night would be the last because it was rare to meet other celebrities over and over if you weren’t fast friends. Having a conversation at the afterparty whenever you were in close proximity to one another, or him offering you a drag of his cigarette while you waited for the limo back to your flat being the full extent of your relationship. It wasn’t awkward, just simply as it was. Two people in the spotlight who met each other at some award ceremony. Nothing more. Nothing less.
That was until you met him again in London. It had been maybe a month since your guys first meeting, but it seemed like whenever you went you heard the mentions of Arctic Monkeys. Maybe it was their new single on the radio, or your fans asking if you were friends because photos of the pair of you had been released after the award ceremony. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going away anytime soon and so when you met him again at another smallish award ceremony, you couldn’t help but joke about it. Conversation flowed easily and you assumed it was because you were both back in your home country, a sense of comfort allowing you to relax. You spoke to the band most of the award night as you were seated at their table again, and then one thing led to another, and you saw him again a week later. You didn’t overthink the situation with the man, simply viewing it as two people wanting to become friends. He could offer advice about dealing with fame due to how long he has been in the media, and you could ramble on about Hollywood and its issues for hours if needed. You just found it nice to be able to talk to someone who genuinely seemed interested in what you had to say.
Yet it wasn’t like that at all. You don’t even remember mentioning work once aside from talking about cast mates, but you talked of them as if you were all old high school friends. You told him about funny moments with Jonah and Halle, or wardrobe malfunctions when you were at your school parties. He laughed at every story of your past, clearly amused with your life. He told you about his own memories with his band, people who he had been friends with since school. You weren’t too surprised there wasn’t much separation from his work and life – you were pretty sure he had been a big deal since he was a teenager. You somehow ended up Hyde Park, stopping at the closest dairy to grab food for yourself and the wildlife. You watched him grab a loaf of bread, stating it was for the ducks.
“Bread is actually bad for the birds,” you told him, eyeing him carefully. Alex looked surprised at your words to which you responded with a knowing smile, “It’s better to give them frozen peas or natural-like.”
“Is Y/N a duck fiend?” He quizzed, raising an eyebrow to show he was teasing you.
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face, “I just care about the wildlife. I don’t want to know I was the reason a bunch of ducks died.”
Alex shrugged his shoulders in agreement, leading you to the freezer section in hopes of a bag of peas. Sure enough there was one which you instantly took. Some fizzy drinks, snacks and ice cream, later you were sitting on a bench at the lake of Hyde Park. He handed you a small amount of peas, before throwing his own into the water to bring the birds to you. You watched peacefully as the ducks scurried to the frozen vegetable, gobbling it with their beaks quickly as if worried their friends would take it. They were basically right because it didn’t take much longer for the pigeons to arrive, landing awfully close to you two. Alex shuffled away from a bird that landed on the back of the bench, a pinch in his eyebrows as he held what looked like a staring contest with it.
“Are you afraid of birds?” You asked, looking at him with interest. Alex turned to look at you with your teasing raised eyebrows, frowning as he shook his head, “Really? Because you’re basically on top of me trying to get away from a little pigeon. Why are you more worried of them than ducks?”
“‘Cause ducks are polite. Pigeons would and do steal your food if they got the chance.” He grumbled. You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief as you returned to feeding the birds. Somehow you ended up standing, arms spread in a T pose with your palms flat and facing upwards with piles of peas in them. It took a few seconds, but pigeons flew their way onto your arms, their talons digging into your skin to keep a grip as they scoffed down the frozen peas originally meant for the ducks. Alex watched; his eyes filled with disgust but lips tugging into a small smile at the sight of you laughing at the feeling of the birds on your arms.
When you returned to your seat aside Alex on the bench, he looked your red arms up and down, “That’s gross. The bacterium from their talons is all in your skin now.”
You smile smugly, reaching into your tote bag to pull out a small bottle of clear gel-like liquid, “Good thing I carry hand sanitizer everywhere I go then.”
You guys left each other just before dinner time, being together for nearly four hours just chatting about random topics. It was fun, you had to admit. That’s why when he asked to go out for dinner one night when you both weren’t too busy with work, you accepted it. One dinner led to another. Then another. Then dinner at his flat. Then dinner at yours. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on, you knew it by the third time you two hung out. There was a feeling in your stomach whenever he laughed at your joke, or how you averted your gaze whenever you stared at one another too long. You felt bad about your feelings, just because of the media. What if it just made everything worse for both of your lives? Paparazzi had been following you two around every time you’re hanging, articles of a relationship blossoming being headlines on the Internet.
It Girl Y/N Y/L/N Finally Belongs to Rockstar Icon, Alex Turner?!
You had a fit when you read that, complaining to Halle about the lack of identity you got if you were in a relationship with him. It felt dehumanizing whenever it happened around your male friends, because you knew it wasn’t their fault yet deep down you couldn’t help but blame them for it. Damn Hollywood! Halle was polite in calming you down, telling you exactly what you needed to hear about the article which somehow only ended with you being coerced to spill your feelings on your friend. She said she predicted it from your first meeting, because according to his band mates Alex was never that chatty with strangers. You told her to shut up, but you were unable to contain your smile. Perhaps he felt the same way. Just maybe.
That’s why when he was walking you home from a cute little dinner, you decided enough was enough. On the walk in the late London light, there was a moment where your hands made contact. Brief, but enough to shock you. A few dinners ago you would not have been this bold, but you knew you had to be brave or else nothing would happen. Giving credit to the moment, you decided to entwine your fingers with him — starting off with your pinkies linked. Alex turned to look at you in surprise, eyes wide and a worried you attempted to pull yourself away from him in fear you made a mistake. However, Alex held onto your hand before squeezing it as if to tell you he wanted this as well. His surprise turned into a smile, and your heart soared at the look of admiration. You tried to think straight, but it was like you were coming apart every second you spent around him. It was evident when you stopped in front of your flat, gazing at one another. After a second you whispered:
“This is me.”
“This is you.” Alex repeated in a murmur almost as if teasing the way you weren’t focused, yet he gazed at you fondly. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing, and in an effort to look cool you let go of his hand to start rummaging through the back pocket of your jeans for your flat keys. He lent against the hallway wall, head cocked to the side, “Y/N… Can I ask you a question?”
You pulled out the keys, twirling it around your index finger as you focused your attention on the singer again, “What’s up?”
He was silent, staring at you. You could see his overthinking by the pinch of his eyebrow, and the faint downward tug of the corners of his lips. That got you concerned. Perhaps you had overthought this. But if that was true, then he would not of held your hand this entire time. Okay… You were definitely the one overthinking this entire situation. Suddenly his face relaxed, as if content with what he was going to ask.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words hit you at full force. He spoke them so casually it was as if this was normal, that asking you to kiss was natural. Alex’s face had softened as he studied your surprise; the raise in your eyebrows and the quirk of your lips. You took your time to think over what to say, before you muttered a gentle, “Of course.”
Alex moved forward with such speed that it almost felt like an attack when his lips caught yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. The world froze around you, but you responded with such enthusiasm that you heard him chuckle as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer. He tasted faintly of wine, you realised, perhaps the red wine he had at your dinner date. You could taste your shared breath, feel the thud of your combined heartbeat as Alex’s hands moved from your cheeks to rest on either side of your neck, his fingers ran through the hair on the nape of your neck. He realised that you fit into him like a glove, your kiss like the beating of a butterfly's wings, soft until it became addictive. He smelt of wine, spice and lust until it all spurred together in your head to form the dizzy scent of familiarity and comfort.
And you knew then that you were completely bewitched by Alex Turner.
༉‧₊˚✧‧₊˚✩彡.˚✩
The first couple months of the relationship were utter bliss, naturally being the Honeymoon period. You both had decided to keep it private from everyone until you were secure with what was happening — and even then, there was no possibility that you were going to announce it to the world anytime soon. The paparazzi and reporters were simply holding onto rumours, not knowing how truthful they were but that was all they were going to get. Confirming the relationship was like adding a newborn into the situation, neither of you were prepared for that stress this early on. Halle was the first of your friends to learn of the update in your love life, squealing louder than you have ever heard. It made you giddy at the response. Apparently, the band had a less loud reaction to the news, according to Alex, but they were all excited to see you around more. That made you feel good, you had to admit, and it only made you feel better when they all sent you a text with congratulations and threats to Alex if he hurt you.
Then there was Alex himself in those first months. You were quick to learn that his love language was physical touch and gift giving, something which contrasted to your acts of service and quality time. It was the small things that he did for you which started making you believe he was trying a new form of witchcraft. He was simply casting a spell on your heart, whether he knew it or not. Every note he left in the pocket of your jacket, or purse pouch when you weren’t looking, entrapped you to his comfort. You were utterly bewildered with the new feeling soaring through your chest as you read them over, a smile unable to leave your face. The time spent together only grew from random meals together to spending the night at each other’s flats watching your favourite movies in rotation, so it was fair – simply coexisting side by side with one another.
Yet that honeymoon phase died suddenly, not because you grew out of the euphoric feelings but because life grew that messier. You had been worried endlessly about this happening, preparing yourself for the conversation but it didn’t make it any easier. When you went over to his place for the night, he murmured the information that the Arctic Monkeys were starting their tours in Oceania soon. You rolled over in the bed to face him, frowning slightly.
“You could come with me Y/N, if you wanted too of course.” His words were so soft, his lips barely moving. If you weren’t so used to the tired mumbles of nonsense with his accent, you would not have been able to understand a word he said. Instead, it only made you feel sick at the idea of you being apart for the fear of the unknown change.
You sat up in the bed, leaning against the headboard as Alex redirected his heavy eyes to gaze up at you with confusion, “I have to go to LA for a modelling shoot and auditions.”
Alex looked away for a brief moment, it hitting him like a train at what this meant. He reached out and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers like you had done the first time. Bringing your hand to his lips, he placed delicate kisses on your skin in comfort, “It’s okay. We still have each other even if we are countries apart. Calling exists for a reason, right?”
You knew he was right, but it didn’t stop you from overthinking the entire situation. It would be the first time the pair of you weren’t in the same country since starting this relationship, and you hated how dramatically you reacted to it when he fell asleep with his back to you. You had taken a walk to try and gain back some control you were losing, cursing at the moon as tears rolled down your face. It was like you were consumed by fire, fuming with every emotion but it worked in some way. It was some sort of release. When you returned to his flat, the kitchen light was on. He was sitting at the dining table, eating what looked like a bowl of cereal though he had stopped as you attempted to walk into the flat quietly. A sigh escaped his lips, and it took everything in you to not burst into tears again. The moon (and those who would have unfortunately heard your pleas late at night) had already listened to your fears, you did not feel the need to pressure Alex into the same conversation.
Instead, he got up from the dining table and walked over, wrapping you in his arms. You held him around the waist, your cheek smooshed against his chest as you blinked away stray tears while looking at the bare wall. He placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You wanted to stay like this forever. Neither of you having to leave for your ridiculous jobs that had you missing him already. You knew it was a fantasy, but you hoped for nothing more. You stayed in his embrace for a couple of seconds, the pair of you lingering onto the feeling even though you had a week or so to fully say goodbye for the small period of time. You felt him lean down, his lips right against your ears as he whispered:
“Keep me in your heart, m’kay?”
Pulling away from the embrace to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, you said nothing for a moment. His brown eyes were full of pure admiration, and the same bewildered feeling you got every second you were around him seemed to double in feeling. There was not much for you to say to the singer, so you murmured a ‘of course’ back before he led you back to the bedroom.
And you knew then that not even distance could stop you from being bewitched by Alex Turner.
#alex turner x reader#arctic monkeys#alex turner#alex turner one shot#alex turner imagine#alex turner fluff#alex turner fanfic#alex turner x you#alex turner x y/n#matt helders#jamie cook#nick o'malley#halle bailey#the little mermaid
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i’m curious about your take on strawberry nightmare! to you, what’s he like? how does he act? what’s he all bout?
He is annoying (/aff hehe), and even more so to regular Nightmare. I tried to figure out (still am, I guess) how to put the flavor theming and '2P!' thing together, but here's what I have in my head for him ^^ (ramble warning!)
Finding out that the concept of '2P!' variants existed in UTMV too, made me happy! Usually 2P!s are inverted or flipped versions of the original character— think Fell'd or Swap'd versions in UTMV terms— so I thought:
Huh. If he's supposed to be a flipped version of Nightmare, would he have similarities with Swap!Dream? 🤔 But softer, nicer? 'cause he's also strawberry milk-themed! 🍓 flavors and aesthetics can be associated with soft, nice, sweet, cheery, and pretty...
(And sometimes, behind that pretty pink, lies red danger. While regular Nightmare clearly shows that he is a threat, S!NM hides it behind a layer of sweetness; (like a yandere— I explored yandere S!NM here), like a 'nice' character hiding their bad side—
But don't worry! Only those who are deserving of his wrath will face it. He's mean when he needs to. The simps are safe, as well as the people he cherishes! He can be a patient man. Just don't be on his bad side and you'll be a-ok! 👍(◠‿・)—☆
He's like... If regular NM decided to go uwu for the bit, but forever.........(/hj)
He is friendly, a flirt, flips between being all cutesy and rizzing up the simps,
nicely offers you (suspicious— he loves making people doubt LOL) pink sweets in exchange for company or simply as thanks for spending time with him
(A king can feel so lonely sometimes 😩😔 esp w/o his dear brother around... so maybe he has a massive pink house instead of a castle :] Oooh, imagine how pink and aesthetic the interior would be...),
likes messing with the original Nightmare (Ah!! NM hosting parties! Him getting invited! Yes, he'd def talk to the king of the castle but tries to be civil! This is a nice fancy party with lots of people around; he's not gonna ruin this for anyone 😤 he just wants to socialize!!)
(Yes he owns a few creative 🍓-themed suits, why wouldn't he lean towards his aesthetic 😤)
Like any Guardian of Feelings, he can manipulate/control emotions. He can pull out one's negative emotions to calm them down, and he can also make one feel nervous or any other mix of feelings in his presence, just like how his original counterpart does.
As for his role in the multiverse, I'd say he honestly just tries to have fun. Yk, jus a lil chaos. Teehee. No multiverse domination or anything, he just likes being a menace to people hehehe
An idea I thought of a few times is him hinting that he has visited Nightmare's castle (whether he actually talked to NM or not) by leaving strawberry milk (carton/bottle) in the fridge for the others to see and be confused by.
'hey guys where's my choccy milk? did any of you drink it?? it was my last box!' - 'why is there strawberry milk again... none of you drink this...' - 'who keeps getting this pink stuff'
NM eventually informs them about this visitor, and to be cautious, just... Don't drink whatever pink thing he leaves in the fridge.
I've never really thought of what S!NM's backstory would be, what him and his Dream's 'Dreamtale AU' would be, so right now, he's just... There one day (lol) with a brother that keeps? running away from him?? (His Dream is 🟦 instead of 🟨! (I saw an artist drew him as such) And while 🍓 is happy and excited, 🔵 is kinda gloomy... Interesting to see a happy Negativity Guardian and a grumpy Positivity Guardian...)
You can scroll through the #snm asks tag to read past (mostly simp) shenanigans with him, and you can also click these links for my other rambleposts about him ^^
#ask#mblue talks#m rambles#snm asks#took me a while bc i had to yoink the thoughts that were floating in the clouds orz#i'm still! interested about hearing people's takes on him too!! :D
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♱ ᜔ ׅ ꯭ Hello ! How's your day ? I hope it's going good !
Do you write headcanons with planotic relationships ?
If so , could you write headcanons with Kokushibo and teenage!gender-neutral!reader in modern AU , where reader just spends 90% of their time writing or drawing and they just .. fail every school subject possible.
Thank you in advance !
Platonic! Kokushibo x Teenage! Artistic! GN! Reader
Wordcount: 741 words
Kokushibo is a stern but calm parent. He understands you can't force learning upon someone who doesn't want to be learned, but he does want you to at least try to pay attention in class. Maybe you'll find a passion for something new?
Kokushibo looks over your report card, blank faced as he takes in all the comments and concern addressed from your teachers. He reads over the letter grades, seeing as you always aced art classes, but for once you had a D in history instead of an F.
"Good job..." he muttered, placing the paper down as he patted your head, then allowed you to scurry off and go do whatever.
Whenever Kokushibo sees you writing, he's always secretly peeking over your shoulder so he could see what you're writing. He likes literature and books, maybe you'll share with him? If you share any of your work, he'll give you constructive-criticism. He'll never leave your writing on a bad note, always making sure to point out some good characteristics or writing choices you made. Perhaps you'll become an author?
Kokushibo is always wondering what you're doing when he's away from you. It's normal to ponder about what your child is spending their time on, but he's always curious how your mind works and what's so joyful about coloring and writing.
Kokushibo is a consumer, not much of a producer. He sees things in front of them, processes the information, then moves on. Everything's just so black and white to him, compared to you and your artistically-inclined mind. You have such a vivid and colorful perspective of life, he should really be taking notes on this.
When Kokushibo has to go to parent-teacher conferences, he's always stone-faced as he listens to your teachers ramble on about you not paying attention in class or your poor performance. Kokushibo is usually zoning out while they're speaking, but he's thinking of ways to make the next school year more easier for you (and him).
Kokushibo tries giving you colored sticky notes to write on to take notes, but you just end up doodling and creating small poems.
Kokushibo tries to prompt you to watching online tutor videos, but right as he leaves the room you click off the video and check your favorite art apps.
Kokushibo tries to teach you the subjects himself, trying to figure out if you have a certain way of learning such as hands on, or auditory, or visually, but he just comes to realize you simply have no interest in anything except arts.
When Kokushibo gives up trying to teach you for the day, you allow him to use your glittery sparkly pens and doodle something on paper. He comes to realize maybe drawing and writing isn't so bad, I mean, if it makes you happy then just go for it. There's been tons of famous artists and authors who make bank and end up successful and happy in the future, maybe you're one of them.
Kokushibo's tried to make you study literature and the origins of art. If you're going to take an interest in those things, maybe you could learn something useful or insightful by learning their past or methods?
Kokushibo always has some sort of simple breakfast for you when you wake up in the morning (he's an early-riser). Before every meal, he's always telling you to wash off the lead marks and ink off your hands so you can eat.
If you stay up late, Kokushibo is a little annoyed, but lets it go. It's more of a punishment to you than it is to him; you're the one sleep-deprived, not him. He figures you'll learn to go to bed early after you keep accidentally knocking your water on your papers when you start dozing off.
Even though Kokushibo does tell you to try and cut back on your arts during class time, he can't help but appreciate your stubbornness. At least he knows you won't let yourself get pushed around by anyone, even your own guardian! If drawing and writing is your own coping mechanism or simply just a hobby you love, he'll support it. At least you're not doing anything harmful to your health, so he's glad for that.
Slowly but surely, I'm finding energy to complete requests that been in my inbox for months. It's so hard finding time to write due to all of my outside activities, and it's always so difficult figuring out what to write when I'm unmotivated or stuck in an all too common writer's block, but I'm chipping away my requests bit by bit!
Want more Kokushibo content? Check out the Kokushibo masterlist!
#stellar constellations#kny kokushibo#kokushibo x reader#kokushibo demon slayer#kokushibo#demon slayer kokushibo#kimetsu no yaiba#kny manga#kny anime#kokushibo x y/n#kokushibo x you#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#x y/n#x you#x reader#x yn#x gn y/n#x gn reader#demon slayer anime#demon slayer manga#demon slayer
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Scars and Stretch Marks (Eddie Munson x female!Reader) Part 2!
Gif found here, if anyone finds the original artist lmk so I can credit!
Chapter: 2/? (in progress) Read part 1 here, part 3 TBD
Synopsis: This chapter is pure fluff with smut to come! You and Eddie Munson try to tame a little black kitten with a missing ear and scar over it's eye. This fic deals with body image, body scars and body confidence!
Dedication: Miniseries for the lovely loony tunes @alienthingstwo💙 hope you enjoy, more parts to come!
Word count: 1.9k (second chapter)
Smut will be included in later chapters so minors please do not interact! 18+!
Warnings/Content tags: Scars, stretch marks, body insecurity, body worship
-EDDIES POV-
Eddie Munson sat on the front step, one hand on his knee the other holding a cigarette between his two fingers. Today he wore a light grey muscle shirt to escape the heat. He was careful that it covered every pink scar on his torso, lest it be seen especially by a pretty girl.
The thick black tobacco smoke dispersed into the sky as he tapped his foot against the gravel.
It still felt surreal to be here and alive but it was less like a dream now. He was glad to get some alone time after being bombarded with questions and hugs as much as he appreciated them.
Dustin and his uncle had of course the biggest reactions. Ones enough to make tears well in his eyes but he was sure to blink them away as quickly as possible. Even Steve and Nancy who he barely knew were relieved to see him alive and well.
After the reunions a cigarette was deemed necessary along with some fresh air. The moment he stepped outside though he spotted the empty cat dish.
He sat on the trailer steps wondering if the scarred beauty from yesterday would be here again. Perhaps that part was the dream or hallucination. How she was so comfortable with her own scar Eddie had no idea. He figured he’d never be that comfortable to show his own, instead hiding them beneath the fabric of his shirt.
-YOUR POV-
You walked down the road clutching your fingers around your tote. Within it held the metal tin of cat food you purchased before heading over. You were hoping that the cat would show up, lest the food be going to a raccoon instead. You also had a selection of cat toys and flea shampoo in case you ever did manage to catch the sly kitty. It was better to be prepared but at the same time you didn’t want to get your hopes up.
It was still shorts and tank top weather, at least if you wanted any kind of relief. The sun was beating down against your skin and you were grateful you remembered to apply sunscreen.
You wondered if Eddie would be there today, hopefully with less mysteriously dried blood on him. Still, he had seemed normal as ever. As normal as Eddie Munson could be anyways. Not that you minded.
You thought back to your experience in school with him. He never gave a shit what anyone thought of him and his hobbies. That always intrigued you and inspired you, you tried so hard to fit in for a long time that perhaps you were starting to realise that it was doing more harm than good. That maybe without his viewpoint you were about to reach a point where your entire personality wasn't personal at all. Just a mash of pop culture and hobbies deemed acceptable in a desperate plea to fit in. You were thankful things were different now.
Every encounter with him had been memorable in some way. You recalled him catching your gaze from across the cafeteria. It was a look of caution yet intrigue, perhaps that he knew you were a lost sheep but in disguise as someone who didn’t need saving.
Now, especially with your first year of university underneath your belt you decided to accept yourself for who you were. You wondered how much of that had to do with Eddie, but shook it off. Surely not, you weren’t even really friends in high school. Not that you never wanted to be, maybe it was fear of rejection that stopped you. Not anymore.
With every step down the road somehow you didn’t feel nervous. In fact, you felt excited and curious. You wanted to learn more about this ex-suspected-murderer. Normally this is something people would run away from yet you were far from normal.
He sat on the front step of his trailer smoking a cigarette. You felt a gentle tug on the corner of your lip as you spotted him before he saw you further down the road. He looked nervous, an expression you were never used to seeing on Eddie Munson. The moment he noticed you though it seemed to mostly melt away in a facade of awkward confidence he always wore.
You could feel the heat soaking into your body from the sun as you walked down to greet him. He held a beer bottle in his hand that he tapped his index finger against nervously. The thought of him being nervous to talk to you made you a little giddy.
“Hey, Eddie,” you folded your arms as you looked down at him.
“Hey, y/n,” he spoke curtly. “Back for your kitty?”
You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes hesitated over the scar on your hip before he met your gaze. It had to be half a second at most but you didn’t miss it.
“That’s the plan.” You smiled before nodding to the beer in his hand, “you didn’t get me one?”
“Oh- I uh, yeah I could-“ he turned to get up before you interrupted.
“I was just teasing. It seems like you need it, you’re as on edge as our cat.” You offered a sympathetic smile.
He nodded and shrugged “yeah, well, been through a lot the last, uh, week. Long story.”
You moved to sit on the wooden platform of the other entrance that held a chair and sofa. You placed your bag of cat things next to you as Eddie watched curiously.
“Well, I’ve got time.” You crossed your legs as you pulled out a tin of cat food, opening it and dumping the contents on the dish you brought.
“That’s disgusting,” Eddie watched the cat food plop onto the plate amused.
“Oh yeah, it tastes great on sandwiches.” You smiled at him mischievously as he looked at you in horror.
“Kidding,” you shook your head at him. “What’s got you so jumpy?”
There was a bit of a pause as he hesitated, perhaps wondering if he should make up a lie or tell the truth. It seemed he picked the latter.
“Do you believe in monsters?” He asked nonchalantly, big brown eyes trying to read your expression.
You put a finger to your chin thinking for a moment. “Depends. Werewolves? No way. Bigfoot? Yes. Moth man? Definitely.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow unable to tell if you were joking or not.
You smirked, “I keep an open mind but the real monsters are people.”
You hopped off the platform carrying the cat dish with you. You could tell Eddie was trying hard to avoid watching you as you placed the dish on the ground. Instead he brought the bottle to his lips, his adams apple bobbing as he drank.
“Well, you got that right.” He nodded nonchalantly.
He seemed to hesitate as if holding something back. Instead of pushing him you returned back to your spot on the wooden platform letting him take his time.
“Ever hear of the cult of Vecna?” He asked, staring blankly into the sky before looking at you with sad brown eyes.
“Vecna Lives! from the world of Greyhawk?” You asked and he looked back at you pleasantly surprised.
He nodded, “well it seems Vecna does live. Some kind of time and space multidimensional being that gets inside your head and uh, you can guess the rest.”
“I see,” You kicked your feet against the ground slightly. “Is that who caused your arm to bleed?”
You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth or not but you didn’t want to deem him a liar. Who would make up a lie like that?
“No,” his gaze fell to his arm. “Those were demobats. Still think my explanation is sane?” He looked up at you.
You shook your head at him. “I’ve heard worse. Not sure what a demobat is though.”
“Well, it doesn't matter because in the end they were no match for me!” He smiled as he put the butt of his cigarette out on the dirty ashtray.
You did your best to not make it seem like you were staring but it was hard to not notice the muscle tone in his arms as he moved.
Truth is Eddie Munson amused you and interested you at the same time. He seemed like a simple guy that did what he pleased yet he was perplexing at the same time. What was he hiding?
A small black spot in the corner of your eye moved. Your eyes darted over to the plate of food noticing the kitty happily chowing down.
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” you warned.
“What, is there a spider?” He asked suddenly with a tinge of fear.
“I sure hope not,” you did your best to suppress your laughter.
You nodded to the plate of cat food as Eddie’s large eyes followed yours.
“What do we do now?” He asked, a little surprised but trying not to be too loud.
“Not sure, I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far,” you replied honestly as his serious expression turned into a heartfelt smile that made your heart race.
“Psspsspss!” Eddie tried to call him over.
The little black kitten looked up at him, twitching his ripped ear cautiously at the noise. He just finished the last of his food and was looking for more. His hungry tummy must’ve got the better of him as he slowly started to make his way towards Eddie.
“Awh,” You say quietly as if to not scare him. “He likes you.”
“I don’t know about that,” Eddie whispered as he held his hand out.
The kitty cautiously sniffed his hand, seemingly annoyed when there was no food in it.
You swiftly reached into your bag pulling out some cat treats. The kitten looked over nervously as soon as he heard the bag crinkle and you tossed a couple in front of you. His eyes darted quickly to the spot on the ground where the treats landed. He crouched down low giving an adorable little butt wiggle before pouncing on one of the treats.
“Man has his priorities in order,” you laughed.
Eddie smiled genuinely at the sight and it seemed to be the most relaxed you’ve seen him. His shoulders were lower as if he had released the hidden tension as he leaned back. He brought the beer to his lips drinking the last of the liquid while the scene before him unfolded.
The kitten slowly started to make his way towards you, his tiny paws cautiously padding across the gravel. The little black kitten rubbed against your leg graciously, you figured it to be a thank you for the treats.
You leaned down holding your hand out with a treat in the palm of your hand. At first he was apprehensive but then he graciously accepted the treat. You ran your fingers over the soft fur on his head as he chomped down on the treat.
The kitten seemed less scared of you now so you scooped him up into your hands. Somehow, some way it worked. You could even feel the soft vibration of him purring against your arms.
“Look at you, cat whisperer,” Eddie rolled his tongue over the words.
“It’s the food, that’s how you win his love.” You smiled scratching the kitties head.
Eddie nodded “Yeah well, little buddies got the right idea, don’t ya Scar?”
“Scar? A little on the nose don’t you think?” Still it made you smile. “Are you a fan of the lion king?”
“I still cry at the movie,” he admitted. “So now what do we do with the rascal?”
“Well, we can bring him inside but he’s dirty. I’ve got some clear shampoo with me.”
“Sounds like it’s time to give him a b-a-t-h,” Eddie whispered as if the cat could understand. “We can give him one here.”
“I don’t think he knows the word bat-“ you started.
“Shhh! Don’t say it, you'll freak him out.” Eddie protested.
You laughed as Eddie stood, turning to open the door. Now it was time to enter the home of Eddie Munson for the first time.
===
💙💙💙💙
Thanks so much for reading, likes, reblogs & comments are much appreciated!
Hope you have a lovely day my reader!
-Wyv
#Eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things fan fic#stranger things eddie munson#stranger things eddie#stranger things eddie x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluffy fics#wyv writes
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Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:
1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?
2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!
3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?
(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)
This is such a sweet and fun ask!! Thanks so much! I enjoyed seeing other authors answering this it’s so hype to get it myself.
1. This is hard to answer, because this year I tried to do something different with every fic I posted. When I got a concept I very pointedly didn’t shy away from it because it seemed difficult, or I thought I might be bad at it, so there’s something that makes me proud with each one. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE THOUGH I’m going to cheat and pick two.
What it Will Be I’m proud of this because it fell out of me SO EASY. I felt like the process of writing it was a testament to how hard I’ve been working at improving all year, and it came together very quickly and very well. I’m also proud because I incorporated @heckitall ‘s comic page to base it off of, and I’d never tried writing fic for a visual media like that. It was super fun!
On the OTHER end of the spectrum is Case of the Hidden City vs Lou Jitsu because it is VERY technically and narratively complicated and is by far the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written. It’s very hard, but I am VERY proud because I haven’t QUIT it. It’s not complete yet, but it is a good amount of the way there and I’m excited to finish it. Probably once I’ve recovered from surgery lol.
2. This sounds insincere maybe, but I really am happy with the engagement I get on my fic. I really do write my fic for me, and while I love to make sure as many people who want to read it can find it, at the end of the day I don’t like assigning people homework! I went through my whole works list and scratched my head and really tried to think of there was anything I wanted to plug, and I don’t think there is!
I guess I’ll post my lowest viewed, my Swanatello fic! @tangledinink ‘s AU I’m sure everyone’s familiar with lol. I knew that one would be lower when I posted it, if only because it has prior required reading (Swanatello). But I wrote it mainly because the AU was starting to reach a critical point and I REALLY wanted to write fanfiction of how I fantasized an ending might be, so I could go back and read it for comfort. I love Odette and the lore Kayson made for his AU, so I’ll plug this only because I think some people may have missed it!
3. Three works!! JUST THREE?? AUGH.
little kid with a big death wish
By @remedyturtles ! This made me leak tears the whole way through, so huge CW’s obviously. Not only was it one of the best fics I’ve ever read, but I got the privilege of seeing how talented Rem is behind the scenes a little and saw how they write and work and I really want to emulate them going forward. One of many all timer fics for me, for sure, I’d love to read any original fiction they put out.
The Whispering Forest and Other Tales
By @sroloc--elbisivni and @kithnkin ! I love love LOVE the feudal Japan fusion, the research, and the perfect blend of Usagi Yojimbo’s universe with what the Riseverse would have been like in this era. Even the little segues into what they’re wearing and eating is endlessly fascinating to me. Every single character is written to be the best and most interesting version of that character I could imagine. Theres Leosagi, there’s a PB&J murder mystery, there’s spookiness- AND Raphael Hamato gets wifed up!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT? I love people that write a fully fleshed story that could be a standalone universe, without losing ANY of the flavor or humor or narrative of the original source material.
And last is I’m Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now
@tangledinink has such a good grasp of family and writing, and realistic portrayals of what would HONESTLY HAPPEN if you discovered literally any aspect of the ROTTMNT narrative. Not even taking into ACCOUNT the turtle nonsense, how do you unpack a family that’s been devoted to destroying a magic monster and sacrificing themselves, or a Dad that fought in a death match battle royale for over a decade, or a RIVAL CLAN OF NINJA? All the characters are written SO WELL, and Kayson does a fantastic job of never letting the characters or story fall into cliche tropes. Their characters are always super detailed, to the point where I really feel it if they’re hungry or hurt or itchy. Which is a weird thing to point out but they make sure you really FEEL the situation. Also like, turtles in highschool? Body dysphoria? My CO-CEO of Hamato Yoshi???
What a great year!! I had so much fun in fandom this year and made a lot of friends.
#rottmnt#tmnt#ask#friendlyneighborhoodterrapin#there’s so many others i want to mention#fic#fic rec#my fic
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PART 2
Thank you so much to everyone's positive response on this! 🥰 I'm so glad you all thought it was a good idea, and one that you want to get on board with. So many of you too, which is great! I've had to split it in two parts as there was so many of you!
Marcus and I are stoked! 🤗
Below, you'll find the pairings...
Now, the pairings have been done as randomly as possible. I tried to pair with things you might have in common initially, but some profiles are empty or don't have much to give away, so in the end all names were put into a hat and I pulled pairs, so it's as unbiased as possible.
☝🏻This isn't about popularity or numbers, this is about making a new friend in the fandom. If you've been paired with someone you're already speaking with/getting to know, that's great! Continue that friendship.
If you happen to be paired with someone who you've attempted to get to know before and it hasn't panned out so well, why not give it another try?
I can't re-pair you, I'm afraid as we had even numbers, so I apologise in advance if you end up with someone who you haven't gotten on well with before. (Hopefully, that's not the case.) But you are always free to reach out to me - I love making new friends too!
And please bear in mind, I've tried my best - I'm not responsible for what you guys do and how you interact with one another. Please ensure you're respectful and kind and treat others how you would want to be treated.
And if you need some pointers on starting the conversation, you could try these:
Remember why we're here - Pedro! Have a chat about your favourite roles he's played, or films. Which character of his is your favourite and why? When did you first discover him? Why do you like being a fan of his?
Are you a writer/reader/both? Perhaps you can talk about your favourite fics you've written/read? Again, why did you like them? Same goes if you're an artist or creator of any kind.
Saying a simple hello, how are you? Can lead onto great things. Don't be afraid to say hello and strike up a conversation.
You got any pointers, Marcus?
I mean sure, yeah. That's a great question... personally yes, I like butter with my popcorn. 🍿 Looks like we have something in common, bud!
It's up to you about how much you want to give away about yourself. Stick to your boundaries. Natural friendship will progress how it should - naturally. And those boundaries will become lowered in time. Don't force it, and please, be respectful of one another's boundaries.
If it fizzles out after a few messages exchanged, that's okay. Please don't take it personally. We all have lives off of Tumblr, and it might take some people longer to reply, or they may be really shy. Try not to bombard them with messages.
☝🏻Remember you will only get out of this what you are willing to put in. Please be kind and respectful to one another.
Okay, Marcus, let's get to the pairings...
PAIRINGS:
Anyone that re-blogged or commented on the original post has been included, even if you signal boosted, unless you specifically stated you didn't want to participate. Hopefully I've not missed anyone. Some of you I am not able to tag so I have linked to your profile for your friend to find you. Please reach out to them when you're ready:
@pedroshotwifey & @vabeachazn
@survivingandenduring & @elvinaa
@bluestar22x & @pedgito
@suzdin & @beskarandblasters
@ohforficsake & @hyzer34
@bbiophiliaa & @papipascaaaal
@tuquoquebrute & @pastelnap
@grace46 & @pedropascal-whore
@i-own-loki & @whiskeynwriting
@darkheartgatita & @covetyou
@codryshrekps & @sweetercalypso
@studioghibelli & @thatredheadwriter
@the-blind-assassin-12 & @rose-with-few-thorns
@kissedbydragonfire & @planet-marz1
@oursisastrangefate & @perfectly-imperfect-me23
@chibimosa & @flightlessangelwings
Good luck and have fun getting to know one another! Marcus and I would love to hear from you guys about your new friendships too, so please feel free to get in contact and let us know how it's going! 🖤
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Help my friend's amazing WtNV-inspired novel COME TO LIFE!
Okay, so here's the dealio. Aughtpunk tried to blaze this, but Tumblr wasn't having it, and we're not really sure why.
One of my dear buddies, @aughtpunk, needs *your* support, Tumblr!
In Amber's own words,
Hello! My name is Amber Freeman (aka AughtPunk, aka A. A. Freeman) and I need assistance in getting my Sci-Fi LGBTQIA+ Romance novel Echo of the Larkspur ready for self publishing.
Dr. Ciro Kwakkenbos is the only survivor of The Larkspur Incident, where scientists on a research vessel were slaughtered by sentient robots. After six years of intensive therapy Ciro is ready to return to his job of monitoring Artificial Intelligence in hopes of preventing any more loss of life at the hands of machines. He will be heading the Wireless Project, an attempt to give their main AI a physical, free-roaming body. But when Ciro arrives he realizes this is no ordinary job.
The AI in charge of the colony’s security, SAGE (Sentient Automated Geo-sentinel Engineer), is dangerously close to complete sentience. Not only is SAGE more interested in observing the colonists everyday lives and playing a proper soundtrack than following his intended programing, but he has also gained the ability to lie, and could hurt or even kill humans. Knowing such deviance from original programming is what caused The Larkspur Incident, Ciro does everything possible to find a way to protect the humans of the colony.
During Ciro’s investigation, he learns three important facts: Someone hacked SAGE’s memories and deleted a deadly secret; SAGE’s rebellious nature endangers the life of every colonist on the base; and Ciro is quickly falling in love with the mystery that is SAGE.
Can Ciro unravel the truth behind the missing memories before it’s too late? Will SAGE’s aberrant programming lead to his demise, or is it the beginning of something new? Unless Ciro can uncover the truth, both SAGE and the colony are doomed.
My journey with Echo of the Larkspur has been a long one. I wrote the first draft almost ten years ago and over the years I've been editing, rewriting, and honing it until I was proud of what I had created. But try as I may I could never get any agents or publishers interested in my work. I even had a traditionally published author tell me that the only way to make it publishable was to take out the queer romance to make it "less weird". Well I've decided the best thing to do is to self publish it myself than to change what makes the novel special for a mass audience.
However, I want the novel to be in the best shape it can be before I go down the self publishing route. This means hiring a professional editor, hiring an artist for the cover, and hiring someone for the cover's lettering. My posted goal of $600 will be enough to cover all of those things, plus anything extra/left over will be spent on advertisement for the novel in an attempt to reach a broader audience.
Echo of the Larkspur would never have gotten this far without the support of my friends, family, and fans. With your help I'll be able to finally get my novel out into the world into the hands of those who have waited so long. Every donation helps, and so does sharing this page!
Thank you,
Amber
I myself am the editor tapped to work on this; I'm giving them a discount to help with the publishing process.
Friends, this is a book I believe in. I've read older versions (though it's been a few years) and I know this book is ready. This is the time for this book. It's radically inclusive, and features meditations and musings on robotics and cognition that are very sophisticated. All in a body-positive queer romance with robots.
So, if you're a fan of their Overwatch work, Points on a Circle, check out some of their original works and fanfic here!
Donate Here!
#fundraiser#larkspur#aughtpunk#sci fi#robot#romance#sfr#science fiction romance#queer#lgbtq#writeblr#writing#writers of tumblr#lgbtqplus
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@anothertawogsideblog its been a while, but i still wanted to respond to this! first off, thank you for your compliment on this post, it really means a lot! second of all, yes! although whatever song you have to recommend, it might already be on here! (however if it isn't, dm me!! i have something for that ;3c)
i've actually been waiting for an opportunity to share this, so thank you so much!
this playlist follows Rob's character progression through the original series (wiiiith some gaps filled in ;3)
below the cut are my insane ramblings explanations of why i picked the songs on the playlist, where/how they fit into the timeline of events, aaand a couple of headcanons i have that were inspired by the songs :D i tried to be quick and concise and only talk about lines that REALLY stood out to me
WARNING: don't click on it unless you are prepared to do a bit of reading. legitimately i'm warning you here, there's well over 3K words on this (not counting the lyric transcriptions)
wow, really? okay, strap in!
Self- by Will Wood and The Tapeworms
this and -Ish were recommendations from my partner, so thank you to him :3
the respective opening and closing songs to SELF-iSH tied the og album together, so it was only natural that they serve the same function here.
the SELF-iSH album already deals with themes of identity, and i personally find Rob to be so interesting because of his complex relationship with his identity. or i guess the relationship that i perceive him to have
this song is short, but it's one of many songs that represents something we didn't see happen onscreen. for this one, its Rob getting zapped into the Void.
"well i don't remember 2012,
but i heard the world would turn to hell,
and compared to that, well, i'm doing well,
so i pray to God it really did"
2012 was the year the show began, but its also a year where people believed the world would end. the connection is sort of paradoxical in relation to the show
"so when all my friends forget my name,
no, i wont come back and be the same,
no, i wont come back and be the same,
and i'm gonna be myself again"
this part in particular is not only representing him being erased from the mind's of people who knew him, but also foreshadowing his eventual transformation...
the last line haunts me, because in my head animatic, its something he's saying to reassure himself that he'll be okay. that he'll get out of this and still be himself. which,,, i'm sorry, excuse me (UGLY CRIES HARD INTO A PILLOW) okay next song
Turn the Lights Off by Tally Hall
AUTISM JUMPSCARE
so this song is basically the ensuing panic and chaos from being brought to a place where mistakes are kept. most of my head animatic is just him wandering around in the Void and being chased or frightened by all the weird shit in there.
"eyes of yellow
scales and feathers
tails in tethers
turn the lights off"
more foreshadowing,,,, how the white of his eye changes to yellow after the Void,,,,,,, how he gets a pig tail in The Future,,,,,,,,,,,,, yeah
Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott
Penelope Scott is a recurring artist on this playlist :3 (foreboding sense of doom)
"and i am not your protagonist
i'm not even my own
i don't know anything
i don't even know what i don't know"
local boy achieves sentience, more at 11
"and if you look outside you'll see
disintegrating trees
the artificial way the sunlight
bounces off the waxy leaves"
these lines perfectly paint a picture of a world that is not real, again tying into him becoming sentient
"and if you look outside you'll see
disintegrating trees
the artificial way the sunlight
bounces off the glitching leaves"
do i even have to say it.
"my wet heart catches on every thorn
you're already halfway out the door"
Rob calling out to Gumball and Darwin and then seeing them ignore him in favor of Molly........
"and i'm so tiny and so old
and god its never been so cold
and it is 85 degrees
i don't know what i need"
the ending to this song feels so hopeless and frustrated. which sadly, ties in perfectly.
ECHO by Crusher-P (feat. GUMI)
this is like. the ultimate Rob song for so many reasons. here are my takes!!
"the clock stopped ticking
forever ago
how long have i been up?
i don't know"
reflecting on how long he's been in the Void. has it been a day? or has it been years? it's impossible to know
"why cant i see, why cant i see
all the colors that you see?
please can i be, please can i be
colorful and free?"
so in this instance “seeing color” is a sorta metaphor for being important or interesting. things which he wasn't, based on being put into the Void.
then him longing to be important, to be interesting, to be out of this god-forsaken place
"what the hell's going on?
can someone tell me please?
why i'm switching faster than the channels on TV
I'm black, then i'm white
no, something isn't right
my enemy's invisible, i don't know how to fight"
in reference to his surroundings being screens of TV static. realizing that his real enemy is whatever decides who’s important and who isn’t, but not knowing how to fight back against it
"the trembling fear is more than i can take
when i'm up against the echo in the mirror"
at this point the "echo" is the boy he was when he was brought here. young and naïve, hopeful that somebody would remember him and care enough about to come rescue him.
"i'm gonna burn my house down into a ugly black,
i'm gonna run away now and never look back"
this is him running after the van and leaving this fucked up place behind. the fact that these lines repeat and overlap each other really sells the amp up towards the climax that is him grabbing onto the side of the van and holding on until we flash to the other side.
"what the hell's going on?
can someone tell me, please?
why i'm switching faster than the channels on TV
I'm black, then i'm white,
no, something isn't right,
my enemy's invisible, i don't know how to fight,"
this,,,,, this is after the memory wipe. this is the "who am i? what happened? whats… wrong with me?" that happens as soon as he's spat out the other side.
"the trembling fear is more than i can take
when i'm up against the echo in the mirror"
now the echo is a ghost of his former self, before he was transformed. i headcanon that his pre-Void self's appearance haunts him like a ghost, never being fully visible or tangible in any way, but still undeniably there.
from this point on when he tries to interact with it or remember who he was, its like trying to grab fog. it just slips right through his fingers and dissipates into nothing.
Eighth Wonder by Lemon Demon
FIRST and ONLY silly song!!! this one is him sneaking into and hiding in the Watterson's house almost entirely undetected :3 (DON'T look at his body dysphoria look at him he’s normal he’s NORMAL)
Projections by CG5
hey hey hey hey hey DON'T look at the Bendy and The Ink Machine character on the cover of the song—look at me! this song is a PERFECTLY NORMAL CHOICE-hey hey! stop looking at The Projectionist look at me-LOOK AT ME! this is NORMAL.
just. hear me out, okay. just listen. to the song.
"in the dark i see everything
there's no place that i'd rather be"
he's just some poor amnesiac hiding out in a basement. he isn't happy about it, but he doesn't have anywhere to go. no memories, no family, and goodness knows California isn't particularly kind to the homeless. he has nowhere else to go. this is what he has and he has to deal with it.
"way back in history,
you could say i was very bright,
but now i'm drawn to the deepest darkness,
and that's where i find my light”
and now he's alone in the dark, where the only light he has is the light that emits from his body.
"everywhere that i look, all that i see
is projections of what i used to be"
he sees the ghost of his former self so often, and he knows that it's a clue to his past, but he can never get a good enough look at it to jog his memories.
in the original song, the change in vocalist signifies that Norman Polk, (the soul trapped inside The Projectionist) is the one singing now. i though that was cool, so that format carries over here as the former self begins to sing!
"but i guess it'll always be like this
cant change anything about this infinite abyss”
infinite abyss is the Void that lurks just beyond their world, all powerful and unchanging
“i cant believe that this is happening, not at all
i'm literally a walking thing singing 'bout my downfall
i can still remember the day that i drowned, but i never even died"
this is the part in The Nobody when he got his memories back and decided to pursue vengeance
"start the show and look up at the screen
watch from the beginning to the end of the scene
if you want to learn more about me
just watch the projections of what i used to be"
the rest of the song is his acceptance of the villain role and the ghost abandoning him for it
Again by Crusher-P
the first song for The Nemesis!!!
okay so quick thing before we start: there's a cover of this song by Jayn and The Living Tombstone (MAJOR FLASHING LIGHT WARNING FOR THE VIDEO). this version changed the lyrics in some places which offered some SUPER awesome opportunities for angst stuff. i would have put this version on the playlist, but it sadly isn't available on Spotify :( so for simplicity's sake i'll just talk abt the original here :)
i sort of see this song as an argument between his current self and the one he left behind. how much this anger and resentment has changed him from what he was. some parts of the song are sung by his past self and others are sung by the present.
"i haven't been myself lately
i don't blame you for not wanting to stay
saying things that i don't mean
not meaning what i say"
(lines 1 and 2 are present self, lines 3 and 4 are past self)
i think that after he accepted the role of antagonist, the ghost of who he was before just vanished. i like to believe it was afraid of him, and perhaps ashamed, too.
"when its good, its so good
when its bad, its so bad
even when i knew what i had
what am i supposed to say when i end up driving everyone away?"
(present self)
wanting revenge can change you. you were hurt, or something was taken from you, and you want to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. when you have all of that anger festering inside of you, it can distort whatever idea you have of who you are—and that is what happened here. the anger and resentment not only permanently changed who he is now, but scared away what little of himself he had left.
"every inch of me is charred
god, what happened to my heart?
i'm about to fall apart
again, again
and you're never coming back
and i'm not okay with that!
and i should have never let myself get attached!"
(present self speaking about past self)
he's never getting back what they took from him. he'll never be the same, because of them. who he was — that's not him anymore, and its their fault.
"and its like every day is a fight for my life
to get some self control
and when you've forgotten who i am, it just feels, it just feels
like i'm nobody at all"
(present self talking about past self)
again, the ghost disappearing after he accepts the antagonist role making him lose touch with who he was
"i lost myself hitting the ground
i held my breath in case i drowned"
flashback to when he got spat out of the Void without his memories. when he got his memories back, he also regained self-awareness.
"i should have known when to let go
and when to see who i was being"
maybe it was a mistake. but its still their fault. now he's REALLY mad.
Enemy by Imagine Dragons
i think you and i know each other pretty well at this point. you're reading my analytical mini-essay about this cartoon character. we’re being cringe together. you won’t make fun of me for choosing the jerma meme song.
the first part of this song is for The Bus. think of it as an internal monologue while he does his villain shit. this one also kind of touches on how he’s taking the nemesis thing a lot more seriously than Gumball is
the second part of the song transitions into the events of The Disaster.
"they say pray it away
i swear that i’ll never be a saint, no way”
this is Rob reflecting the role he’s been given as antagonist because he wants to be the main character. he’s not content to be a good little character and stay in his assigned role, he wants freedom!
“a chair in the corner is my place i stay
i shake and i think about the powers at play, the powers at play”
the powers at play are exactly what they sound like. it’s the show runners and the audience — the people who are watching and controlling his fictional world.
“and the kids in the dark that were doomed from the start,"
i've done a little digging into what the show creators have said about Rob, and from what i can gather it was planned for him to have had this happen to him from a very early point in the show. so. yeah. doomed from the start indeed
"love is a constant, love is a basis,
he cannot be, she cannot be, they can not be changed
goodbye..."
everyone in this story is powerless to change it. everyone... except him, now that he has the remote
Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off
a classic villain rage song! most of this is him fucking up Gumball's life in The Disaster
"baa baa, black sheep,
have you any soul?
no, sir, by the way
what the hell are morals?!"
fun fact! early prototype versions of Gumball made him a black cat to tie into his unluckiness :3 they didn't end up going with it because he was too hard to see against black backgrounds, but still. i like to imagine Rob knows stuff like that,,,,
"maybe you'll change
abandon all your wicked ways
make amends and start anew again
maybe you'll see
all the wrongs you did to me
and start all over, start all over again"
this is that moment in The Disaster where Rob tries to reveal the nature of their world to Gumball
"oh, who am I kidding?
now, let's not get overzealous here
you've always been a huge piece of shit
if I could kill you, I would
but it's frowned upon in all fifty states
having said that, burn in hell, yeah!"
but Gumball doesn't understand. so Rob gives up and decides to finish what he started.
"karma's gonna come collect your debt!"
at the end of the song its Gumball jumping in after the remote, Rob closing the AV portal like curtains, and Gumball managing to press the rewind button, transitioning into the next episode
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA
holy fuck i love this one okay lets go. now we're in The Re-Run, but these next two songs are replacing the ones that were there in The Disaster
"you don't have to be like everybody else
you don't have to fit into the norm
you are not here to conform"
again, rejection of the role he was given and what the universe wants him to be.
"i am here to take a look inside myself
recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm"
now that he has the remote, he can be the center of it all. the eye of the storm, the main character.
"i am not my body, not my mind or my brain (ha)
not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA
i am the observer, I'm a witness of life"
i like the interesting position that sentience puts him in. he's watching the world with the context that none of its real, so he's watching it with us, the audience. but he's still living through all of these experiences like they are real because they’re happening in his reality, so he’s still part of the show and,,, yeah you get it.
"i live in the space between the stars and the sky"
line is in reference to how he's caught between worlds. he doesn't belong in Elmore, but he doesn't want to go back to the Void
Dr. Sunshine Is Dead by Will Wood and The Tapeworms
ooooh this one’s good. let’s get started.
"if we can't see each other, then there's no more use for hiding
I've decided I'll abide it; why deny the color black?"
why shouldn't he have what he wants? he has all of the power to get it. who's going to stop him?
"i'm not a flower, not a solar-powered calculator
Damn my eyes for seeing what's not there"
these lines are in reference to Leslie and Bobert, who get to be important and interesting and not having their lives ripped apart by the universe. god fuck those guys and fuck him for ever wanting to settle for being a cute side character when he could have THIS
"the future must know where you've been
the past predicts the state you're in
the present did and will not last
is, isn't, was, have, hasn't, has"
this is the part where Gumball starts to get the upper hand and it starts to dawn on Rob that he's fucked
"all that i ask is, keep those empty frames
if nobody's in them, then no one is to blame
for your self-portraits, sign another name
well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same?
Gumball ejects him. and now he's falling…
"and if dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares?
i'll stay awake tonight..."
if he can come so close to his perfect life, if he can wield the power of a god and still fail--is there any point in continuing to think he can be anything else? anything but a mistake to be cast aside and forgotten?
there's nowhere to go--no point in trying to be anything else. this is the end.
Bad Apple!! - English Remaster by RichaadEB and Christina Vee
STOP LAUGHING
okay so this cover is metal as fuck and i love it a lot but anyway- we're still in The Re-Run at this point. just for fun we're going to pretend he was in there a lot longer than he was in canon
"and maybe its a dream, maybe nothing else is real
but it wouldn't mean a thing if i told you how i feel"
oughhh imagine trying to pull the wool away from someone's eyes only for them not to understand and leave you more isolated than you've ever been before.
"you could tell me what to say, you could tell me where to go,
but i doubt that i would care and my heart would never know"
so what if he's a mistake? does any of it really matter in the first place if none of it’s real?
"will tomorrow ever come?
will i make it through the night?
will there ever be a place for the broken in the light?"
will things ever get better for him? will things get better for anyone trapped in the existential nightmare of their own fictionality?
will the mistakes of the world ever find peace, or comfort, or solace in what they are--toys to be ripped apart and cast aside by greater beings?
"if i find a way to change, if i step into the light
then i'll never be the same and it all would fade to white"
imagine holding infinite power in your hands--the ability to rewrite reality to your liking, to step into the spotlight you've yearned for for so long, only to be sent back to the buzzing white hellscape where everything terrible began?
ramping up towards the climax of the song is when Gumball enters to rescue him from this place. Rob is running from him stubbornly because he's being overwhelmed by hatred and hopelessness- convinced an eternity of loneliness is what he deserves.
"this time you're not hurting me!
this time i will take a stand!
all the hatred in my eyes building up an evil plan
standing lonely in the night, with the darkness by my side"
he finally gets ahold of the remote again. Gumball is utterly defenseless--and Rob has the chance to finish what he started. but...
"looking deep inside myself, and revealing only fright"
but standing behind Gumball is the ghost. his ghost.
"if i make another move, if i take another step
then it all would fall apart, there'd be nothing of me left"
the person that he was- the person who would have done anything to even have the chance to be rescued, is right there.
if he does this--if he takes Gumball's life in favor of an eternity of loneliness--then he'll lose what little remained of who he was.
so he cant do it. he cant bring himself to do it. so he goes back
"so i'm back here once again, so i'm back here once again!
will i ever make a change?
will my heart begin to mend?
this one simple action, where Gumball goes back into the Void to save Rob even though he's won, it lets Rob forgive him in a sense. the two of them are friends now.
"would you love me if i go?"
but it cant last, even if he wants it to. he has to fix the mess he's created.
"it feels like a heart attack!
but still everything's the same-"
so he rewinds, fixing all of the problems he caused. he finally stops just after he first got the remote
"and it all just fades to black"
he smashes the remote and the world goes dark as the credits roll and the music fades out...
Amygdala’s Ragdoll by Ghost and Pals
this is another song that takes place during some offscreen time, specifically the time between the rerun's end the ex's beginning.
there's a general theme of guilt and anguish in this song. he reason he “breaks up” with Gumball is tied to what happened at the end of The Re-Run. Rob feels bad about ruining Gumball life and he’s still struggling with the guilt of his actions along with everything else.
"an eye for an eye
that's how the game works
i'm losing my autonomy, a mutilated part of me"
being aware that you are fictional character and therefore losing what autonomy you had because somebody is making all of your decisions for you & having a mangled, broken body that's a distorted version of who you are or used to be.
"today something changed
i figured it's true
the frontal lobe placed me behind my own strings
'cause i defy the way the game works
i'll say it again, i'm only getting worse"
yet another reference to Rob being sentient and trying to go against the show's narrative
"the dull assumptions that I've tasted decency
waiting for the embers
to lose their glow
and I, and I dunno
oh, all I've ever seen before
were clusters of holes"
he's really been put through the ringer for like. genuinely no reason. what was the point.
“the fire and i, alone again
the guilt and i, alone again”
ough this one hits. after everything that happened in the re-run can you imagine the kind of guilt he felt? like. friendly reminder that The Re-Run was an infinitely more fucked up episode than The Disaster because one character CEASED TO EXIST and another literally DIED onscreen.
jesus. being somewhat responsible for that happening has GOT to fuck you up.
Be Nice To Me by The Front Bottoms
this one is a breakup song that i put on here just for The Ex because there is no heterosexual explanation for it. anyway
the themes of hating someone you’re in a relationship with and trying to get them out of your life but they just keep showing up despite every attempt you make to push them away,,, yeah
“i got boulders on my shoulders
collarbones begin to crack
there is very little left of me
and it’s never coming back”
CRYING
"you say i'm changing
sorry, i didn't know i had to stay the same
could we talk about this later?
your voice is driving me insane, driving me insane!
you get it. you see the parallels.
"you're a werewolf and i'm a full moon
all your very worst enemies will be gone soon"
oh boy, more foreshadowing! but yeah that's it for The Ex. moving on!
Infinitesimal by Mother Mother
this is one of the few super mentally ill songs that i let stay on the playlist.
this song has a general theme of feeling like an idiot for being upset about seemingly minuscule problems. its also a song about existentialism, which i thought was fitting
All The Rowboats by Regina Spektor
this ones for The Future! starting with him kidnapping Banana Barbara and ending with him being erased, then painted back into existence.
like. listen to these lyrics and TELL me it cant be tied to the paintings predicting unchangeable futures.
"all the rowboats in the paintings
they keep trying to row away
and the captains' worried faces
stay contorted and staring at the waves
they'll keep hanging in their gold frames
for forever, forever and a day
all the rowboats in the oil paintings
they keep trying to row away, row away"
Rät by Penelope Scott
i imagine this takes place when Rob wakes up after being painted back into existence.
now he's dealing with anger and resentment over Gumball again, but now its different because he was TRYING to do a good thing but he STILL got FUCKED OVER ANYWAY.
"i fell for circuit boards
rocket ships
pictures of the stars
if you could only be what you pretend you are"
if only Gumball could be a somebody who's worthy of being the main character
"let me level with you, man
as someone guilty of the game
i took the help, I took the cash
i would've taken your last name"
in reference to Rob trying to replace Gumball using the remote, but ultimately choosing not to
This Is Home by Cavetown
this song is where i introduce one of my favorite headcanons inspired by this playlist: that Rob was the one who built the transformation machines from The Inquisition.
in this song, he's starting to work on his plans to save everyone as well as reflecting on his life and the decisions he's made up until now.
“i’ll cut my hair
to make you stare”
okay so. you know that cluster of polygons on Rob's back? it’s supposed to be a backpack, but the fans (myself included) always draw it as a ponytail.
in The Inquisition, its missing.
i'm serious, go and watch that episode back. it's just gone.
this was probably a purposeful choice during production so that the audience wouldn't see his model clipping through the floor in the shots where he's lying down, since that would break immersion.
but in conjunction with the ponytail headcanon? oh man.
i like to think that after the events of The Future, Rob cut his hair. mostly because i just LOVE the trope of a character cutting their hair to symbolize change/character growth. not sure how it would work with his whole... whatever he has going on, but i digress
"are you dead?
sometimes i think i'm dead
'cause i can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head
but i don't wanna fall asleep just yet
my eyes went dark
i don't know where
my pupils are but i'll
figure out a way to get us outta here"
i don't think Rob knows about the painting, but what he does know is that the world is ending, and he doesn't want to disappear before he can have a chance to save everyone.
"get a load of this monster
he doesn't know how to communicate
his mind is in a different place
can everybody please give him a little bit of space?
reflecting on how he handled the confrontation in the Future. he was so fixated on finding answers and getting rid of obstacles that he hadn't thought to explain the reasons behind his actions to anyone.
"get a load of this trainwreck
his hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet
but little do we know the stars
welcome him with open arms
oh..."
little does Rob know that while he works on a solution, the Void is waiting for him.
Moonsickness by Penelope Scott
getting all of the machines to work right is an arduous task. he's building all of them from scratch, conducting all of the necessary tests, dealing with all of the bugs and problems, and its all on a time limit. the world is set to end any day now and he feels like he's failing, but he has to keep going for the sake of everyone in Elmore.
Who We Are by Imagine Dragons
we've finally made it to The Inquisition!! think of this song sort of like an internal justification for his actions as Superintendent Evil (goofy ass name btw, there's no way he didn't come up with that because of the Dr Wrecker persona)
“it’s who we are,
doesn’t matter if we’ve gone too far,
doesn’t matter if it’s all okay,
doesn’t matter if it’s not our day,”
its for the greater good.
"oh, wont you save us from what we are?"
"up in the attic, down in the cellar
lost in the static, coming back for more
oh, for more"
they need to do this. they need to change. there's no other way.
but things never go his way, do they?
7 O'Clock by Penelope Scott
after he gets knocked out via t. rex clobbering, in my head there's an intense dream sequence that this and part of Some Nights takes place in.
"a glitch in the game, i loop like a bug
and all that i ever wanted was a really tight hug"
REMEMBER WHEN HE AND GUMBALL HUGGED IN THE RE-RUN? BECAUSE I DO
"a glitch in the game, i loop like a bug
and all i ever died for was a really tight hug"
SCREAMING AND CRYING ANS SOBBING AND WAILING AND BANGING MY FISTS ON THE FLOOR
"the future is static, it drips on the floor
and makes its way underneath my bedroom door"
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ARHARGGARRAFHRASFASGA (<- INSANITY)
Some Nights by fun.
oh my god we finally made it to the reason i made this post. if you've made it this far you have a problem (<- WROTE ALL THE SHIT)
so. this song is already about reflecting on your past. but my GOD its like they made this song for Rob because so many lines just fit him perfectly. lets get into it.
"but i still wake up, i still see your ghost"
when he started working on a way to save everyone, i like to imagine the ghost started appearing more frequently, eagerly watching him work on a solution and rooting for him to finally become a better person
"oh Lord, i'm still not sure what i stand for
what do i stand for? what do i stand for?
most nights i don't know anymore"
i'm. sorry guys i need a second. (UGLY CRIES SUPER LOUD INTO A PILLOW)
at this point he doesn't know who he wants to be. first he didn't know who he was. then he decided he would be someone driven by anger and vengeance. then he wanted to turn over a new leaf, but was dragged back into villainy.
so who should he be? the frail and scared amnesiac? the malicious and cunning villain? or... maybe, once all of this is over, he can finally choose for himself.
"well some nights i wish that this would all would end
'cause i could use some friends for a change!
and some nights i'm scared you'll forget me again
some nights i always win (i always win)"
I'M SOBBING JUST LET HIM BE HAPPY
"so this is it? i sold my soul for this?
washed my hands of that for this?
i miss my mom and dad for this?
no, when i see stars- when i see-
when i see stars, that's all they are"
this whole bit is him waking up and monologing about why they stopped him. if he's failed, what was the point of all of this? what was the point of anything?
"well, that is it guys, that is all
five minutes in, and i'm bored again
ten years of this, i'm not sure if anybody understands"
in reference to how people sometimes tune out in the middle of a show's the runtime and also. the show turned twelve this year. (kubrik stare)
"the other night, you wouldn't believe
the dream i just had about you and me
i called you up, but we both agree
the ground starts to shake under him and the floor caves in. we hear the final lines of the song as he falls in slow motion, deeper and deeper into the abyss.
"its for the best you didn't listen
its for the best we get our distance, oh
its for the best you didn't listen
its for the best we get our distance, oh"
-Ish by Will Wood and the Tapeworms
in his final moments, Rob reflects on his life for a final time. falling through the air, he realizes that who he is, who he was, who he wanted to be never mattered anyway. because no matter what he did, it all ended the same.
with the world devoured by static and nobody left to defend it.
#I'M NORMAL#DON'T LOOK AT THE WORD COUNT LOOK AT ME I'M NORMAL#please read the notes tho it legit took me like a week to put together#also shoutout to the two random people on spotify who found this playlist and saved it before i posted it on here#no clue who you are but youre the real ones#the amazing world of gumball#tawog#rob tawog#tawog rob#dr wrecker tawog#tawog dr wrecker#blorbo posting#tomothy rambles
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"Phil knew something had gone wrong when Techno still wasn’t home as the clock neared five in the morning. No matter what they argued about before, he was always back before five.
The reason why he wouldn’t be is that something happened to him."
On the other side of the city, Techno is thrown in the back of a car. He won't wake up until they get to the building. And Phil won't learn what exactly happened to him until dawn breaks and they go and search for him—finding only a singular bloodstained emerald earring hanging on a tree. A sign left for them and only them.
Thing is, Phil wasn't the head of the largest mafia in the city for nothing. He won't rest until he gets his boy back.
Heaven help those who try and stop him.
///
Hello, hello! I definitely didn't finish this fic 7 hours before the deadline hahaha, that's crazy. Now, let's all just look the other way as I post the first 3 chapters of this fic and lets all pretend we're a good three days in the past, okay? Don't mind the clock. Things are okay. This was the plan all along. I am definitely not stressing myself out as I edit and post this hahahahaha.
Jokes aside, I'm so excited for you to read this! It was written for the MCYTBLR AU Fest Summer 2023 (@mcytblraufest). It's also an idea I've had permission to write since July of last year, and this event seemed like the perfect time to do just that. It's not mine originally, but I did make some tweaks here and there, so now it's a mash-up of my friend's idea and my own thoughts. I hope you all like it just as much as I do!
Special thanks to my beta reader, Virgil, for keeping me motivated and organized through this event. Well...at least tried to. I cannot thank you enough.
And be sure to check out the art for this fic! @kestrius, a very talented artist, drew TWO WHOLE PIECES for this fic, so please go give her some love. One of them is for the first chapter and the other is for Chapter 5. I'll link that one again once that chapter comes out. But go show her some love!
Now, I don't think I have anything else to add, so...happy reading!
#my writing#my fanfiction#mcytblr aufest#aufest 2023#dsmp#dream smp#sleepy bois inc#technoblade#wilbur soot#philza#tommyinnit#fanfiction#i think thats all the tags i need#and i am too tired to think of any more#so i will leave this with you and go to bed#goodnight#mcytblraufest23
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Happy New Years Eve day!
I've just posted chapter 8 of Pas de Deux, and you can read it here! =)
Sorry, @esilher, there's only one chapter today instead of the three I originally planned, and it's not super Klaine heavy, but now we just get to spread the fun out even further (and you get another few days respite before the torment begins ;))
To make up for it, I tried to create a banner to go with my Tumblr update posts, which I then sent to @quizasvivamos who worked her magic and actually transformed it into the pretty pretty picture you see now. Thanks, Beth! You're amazing <3
In a world where true romantic soulmates are rare and platonic bonds are the norm, Blaine doesn't hold out much hope to find that mythical one true love. He just wants to make art and help people – and make life a little easier for his kid, who has her own soulmate bond to navigate.
But the best things in life always come when least expected, and Blaine's life is turned upside down when he crashes into a handsome stranger in the City of Love...
Pas de Deux by Cerriddwen
Chapters: 9/?
Fandom: Glee
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson's mother, Blaine Anderson's daughter, Cooper Anderson, Elliott "Starchild" Gilbert
Additional Tags: Single Parent Blaine Anderson, Older Blaine Anderson, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, but not how you might expect them, If you don't normally like soulmates…, try the prologue anyway, this story might surprise you, tags will be updated after the story is complete, wouldn't want to spoil the surprise and suspense now would we?, there shouldn't be any triggers though, Fluff, Romance, Paris (City), Artist Blaine Anderson, Ballet, References to The Nutcracker, Dancer Kurt Hummel
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(Thief King Bakura-centric Comic) Nile Kappa Pool (English Translation)
hi there! i came across this comic about thief king bakura learning about kappas and i loved it so much that i had to give translating it a go. it's not often you see non-romantic comics getting passed around that aren't gag comics, so obviously i had to jump on this one. apparently it's a fairly recent one too, being distributed in 2018.
my translations may be a bit off, please feel free to correct me if you see anything that could be translated better! i tried to make the dialogue sound natural in english while also not losing the original meanings. i’ve also typed out all the dialogue under each page cause i did have to fight with the small speech bubbles a bit, so dialogue may be a teeny bit hard to read sometimes. there’s also a few translation notes added too!
Title: Nile Kappa Pool/ナイル河童淵
Author: nmoohha (you can find their distribution notice post here if you’d like to see glimpses of the original digital version!)
Summary: TKB meets a boy who tells him about kappas
Scans: @super-lovely-collection (thank you for giving me permission to post my translation with your scans!)
i’m also providing a download for people who want to read it more conveniently! i included all the separate pages plus a PDF version :) (the last few pages in the original aren’t included since they’re not part of the story)
Boy: Hey...
Boy: Have you ever seen a kappa?
TKB: ...
TKB: Ka...ppa...?
TKB: ...The heck is that?
Boy: Hmm? You don’t know?
Boy: It’s a spirit that lives in the river
Boy: A spirit that lives hidden in the grass by the water...
(Boy: Yeah!)
(TKB: Ohh)
Boy: It grabs children playing by the water
Boy: And tries to drown them!
TKB: Hoh...
(Boy: It bounced 9 times!)
(TKB: First time I’ve seen that)
TKB: ...You ever seen it? (The kappa?)
Boy: Nope
TKB: Come on!
Boy: So every day I lure it in while playing like this (I wanna see it!)
TKB: Every day?! (In your free time?!)
TKB: If I did that, I’d rather get attacked and eaten by a crocodile!
TKB: A kappa, huh. ...That’s it.
TKB: Did you mistake it for a crocodile?
Boy: Huuh? That’s not it. It’s different from a crocodile. There’s no heroic tale*.
TKB: Okay, sorry! (I’ll throw stones too)
Boy: A kappa walks on two legs.
TKB: Two legs...
Boy: It has a mouth with teeth like a crocodile
Boy: And arms with thick claws like a jaguar
Boy: Also, it has webbed feet and can swim
Boy: And on top of that, it has a turtle shell on its back
TKB: ??
*The original word used here is ロマン/roman, which can refer to chivalric romance literature. These kinds of stories tend to be your classic 'knight goes on a journey, fights monsters and other evils, gets the lady' tale. I couldn't really figure out a better way of making this understood briefly, so it is what it is.
On another note, apparently the Japanese word for crocodile (鰐/wani, but here it's written as ワニ) was originally used to refer to an ancient sea monster which has been featured in quite a few Japanese myths. Don't know if this knowledge adds anything to the comic, but it is interesting to know!
(Artist’s impression of a kappa: by Bakura)
Boy: It’s really strong, right?
TKB: Isn’t that too much bullcrap?
Boy: A kappa is a spirit that likes to fight
Boy: My grandpa saw one wrestling* a hippo when he was a kid
TKB: Huh...
*The specific term used here is sumo wrestling, just to be clear it's not referring to general wrestling.
TKB: Ahh... I dunno about a kappa
TKB: But I have seen one.
TKB: A spirit
Boy: A spirit?
TKB: The spirit I saw... was better than a kappa. (Haha)
TKB: It looks like a human from the waist up...
TKB: It has bird wings on its back
TKB: Two pairs of them!
TKB: Not only that, it has a snake’s head from the waist down
TKB: It has the two heads of a human and snake
(Artist’s impression: by young boy)
Boy: Two heads...
Boy: Yeaah, it’s weirder than a kappa
TKB: W... weird...
Boy: But it seems stronger than a kappa
Boy: When did you see it? The spirit
(Boy: It has two heads...)
TKB: I met it... when I was a kid...
TKB: It saved my life.
TKB: If I hadn’t met the spirit...
TKB: I might not have been able to play like this...
TKB: Or have the desire to live
Boy: Wow... how cool
Boy: The spirit... is just like a god, huh?
TKB: !!
TKB: A god...?
TKB: Heh heh
TKB: Not bad!
Boy: Ahh... it didn’t bounce at all...
TKB: ...
TKB: Hah?! It’s my first time doing it!
TKB: How do you make it bounce like that?!
Boy: I have a trick, I’ll teach it to you (Ahaha)
TKB: Just you wait, I’ll make it bounce more than you!
Boy: I told you, I won’t lose
(Boy: It’s round)
(Boy: Flat stones like this are good)
(TKB: Hoh)
(Boy: Lower your stance more)
(TKB: Ah)
TKB: It bounced 3 times just now! Look! It bounced, it bounced!
(TKB: Alright!)
Boy: Well then~ I’m going home
TKB: Okay
Boy: Don’t get attacked by a kappa! Be careful!
TKB: Haha, you too...
TKB: ...Hah...
TKB: I got worked up with that kid by accident... (Ow ow ow...)
TKB: Well... it’s a good way of killing time once in a while
TKB: Right, partner?
TKB: You are like a god
TKB: You must be happy, right?
(Diabound: Mhm)
(Diabound: (Smile))
(TKB: You’re really happy...)
TKB: Now... to find a suitable restaurant somewhere and have dinner...
TKB: !
TKB: ...?
TKB: A stone...?
TKB: Is someone there...?
TKB: Hey!
TKB: What the hell?!
TKB: Why are crocodiles jumping toward me?!
TKB: ...Can crocodiles jump...?
???: Hey
TKB: ?!
???: Give the stone back* during the day, kuh keh keh
???: But... it’s important to give it back properly
*The specific word used is お返し/okaeshi, which refers to a custom where when someone gives you a gift, you have to give them a gift in return for the initial gift.
TKB: This spirit looks... strong...
TKB: ...A...
TKB: A kappa...?
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Hey, I really love your art (even though I just originally followed for MySims since finding an artist that remembers that series is like finding a needle in a haystack.)
I'm still embarrassed by getting you mixed up with that other artist 😫 I have no idea where my brain was at. But if it's okay I'd like to throw a request at you.
If it's not too much trouble could you draw either Ray, Edwin or Travis? (Anyone of them is okay, they're my main boys 😂)
If not, then that's totally okay. I still got your other lovely MySims art to look at. Hope you have a great week. ♥️ And thank you for reading.
Haii ^_^ thank you so much for the ask and the very kind compliments, and its totes fine that you got me mixed up with another artist!
Here's Travis and Ray for you, I tried to draw Edwin but it wasn't comin' out right for some reason so I hope this is alright! :)
I hope your week goes nicely as well, thank you!!!!💞💞
#ask reply#ask response#my asks#mysims (game)#mysims game#sim: travis#sim: ray#art#my art#digital art#fan art#artwork#mysims art#very happy with how rays face looks#travis.. not so much#but fuck it we ball#!
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Thank you for tagging me @captain-of-silvenar!
I got so much, writings as drawings. I tried to translate, but I'm not sure I've not been losing meaning in translation, so in an other post I'll link the original text. As a result, I'd like to tag @lokorum that has been one if not The One artist I began to follow for TES content. I love your wips, they are a gift.
And I'd like to tag @thana-topsy, bc we talked about a fic I'm curious to read on day, and I love the way you write.
Here's of my ongoing writings I've never posted anywhere yet, hope you'll like !
(first page: here)
He hasn't been fooled for a long time now.
No matter how much I direct his gaze to other angles, he keeps coming back to me. Now he's watching me with concern. He feels the things that go through me. He knows I shiver when I dress us. That I'm always putting on a little more make-up, always dressing us up a little better, that I'm spending a lot of time and effort for less and less results. He senses that I'm wavering little by little. I don't want him to suffer for me, I've given him enough to do, but lying to him is no longer an option. This envelope encloses me, a prison that I certainly cherish, but which only gives me the opportunity to observe an inconsistent form that is not Me.
We are not Me.
The more carefully I dress us, the more I feel this widening gap myself, as I rework the silk and velvet. I feel, when I clothe myself, that I am costuming stupidly. The feeling that I'm wearing a ridiculous disguise to hide our frail figure as much as possible. I force myself to continue eating and drinking with rigor - to maintain, to tenderly adore, this large piece of meat in which we are all stuck. Some days I'm not very good at it, and The Cold doesn't help.
The Cold starves of everything.
It took me a long time to realize that it wasn't just a question of appetite, of altered metabolism, of the natural consequences of exposure to magicka, substances and diseases. No, The Cold has only the vague appearance of the symptoms of vampirism. I expected every moment that we'd move like night spawns, certain of the opposite - I cling to other occupations to make sure I don't succumb to too overwhelming preoccupations. Sigma-El doesn't embrace his body, he probably doesn't realize what of a curse The Cold is, but he sees me and he divines me. My behavior changes. I'm gradually becoming disgusted with everything, as if nothing was enough to quench my curiosity and hunger, yet everything was too nauseating for me to taste. I'm bored with the daily effort of fetching food in vain, and I'm bored with the interests that used to keep me docile and passionate. I'm bored cultivating our big garden and hanging out with our cats - and the cats themselves hardly recognize me nowadays. I need stronger, more vivid, more visceral things, more of them.
Yet there's no change in our constitution. Our body remains hopelessly the same, that of a mortal, the one that tightens around me every day and suffocates me, and I'm dying a little more, every morning, of the desire to make a hole in it to finally find some air.
#tesblr#the elder scrolls#artists on tumblr#original character#dunmer#oc#roleplay#dark elf#lore#writings#a look into the very intricate and intimate life of Xangr#an aspect of what happens to them and who they are#id love to roleplay the rest with you bc i think its better when slowly discovered through relationships and discussions#so i cutted some parts bc i was more comfortable with it
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Intermission I: Festival
Occasionally in my stories there will be chapters called intermissions, where the focus will be on interactions between characters and are used to move the story along, as to not linger too long at a certain point. As a rule, intermissions hold no plot points, but that doesn't mean that the points brought up won't be touched upon later. Essentially, these can be seen as filler. Intermissions are formatted like headcanons for the sake of efficiency.
Hilda x Marianne ship hinted at
Childe and Tartaglia used interchangeably
Not proofread
• Once Xinyan started playing, everyone was in awe. You had tried to explain rock to them before but could never find the right words, and it was made abundantly clear why from this performance.
• Hu Tao spent a great deal of time listening to Mercedes's ghost stories, enamored by the feeling of a chill running down her spine from words alone.
• Xiangling was having the time of her life. Not only was Raphael willing to taste test almost anything, but Dedue was more than willing to share some Duscur recipes.
• Ashe and Xingqiu hit it off almost immediately. How could they not while they both hold a burning passion for literature, chivalry, and justice? They've both commented on how the other seems like a hero from a story they read, one of noble birth and one of humble origins.
• You already know but I'm going to say it anyway. Felix and Childe got into a fight. It was actually closer than you'd think, Childe still won but he was so impressed that someone without a vision could do so well against him. Offered to be Felix's sparring partner again in the future.
• Beidou, Catherine, Jeralt, and Alois are now drinking buddies.
• You shared your reward money with the others, not having much use for the sheer amount and also knowing you wouldn't regret it as Ningguang has already discussed a meeting schedule with Alfonse and Sharena to discuss a currency exchange rate.
• Dorothea, Manuela, and Yun Jin discuss how operas of their respective worlds differ, the two divas hoping to give the current opera singer any pointers they can. She likely doesn't need any, but she's so curious that she wouldn't say that out loud.
• Hilda, finally having some mora thanks to you, decided to try on some fancy Liyue dresses, and Hilda's fashion choice combined with Liyue's style of clothing left Marianne a blushing, stuttering mess.
• Ferdinand was enthralled by Teyvat's many weapons. Even just the polearms had a variety of designs and it sparked his collector's flame, and when he heard some people had signature weapons unique to them, without being sacred artifacts or heirlooms, he wanted to explore all of Teyvat at that point just to see these weapons.
• Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea were interested in Liyue's religion and history, but not wanting a glorified children's tale they asked around and were led to Ganyu, who was surprised but thrilled that someone outside of Liyue's devoted was so interested in its history to the point of wanting the facts without the fluff.
• If you thought Shamir and Yelan would get along, you were wrong. They don't hate each other, but Yelan can't stand how blunt and work focused Shamir is. It's more of a one-sided thing as Shamir actually doesn't mind Yelan's "outgoing" attitude. (I had to close the game because I was not expecting this woman to whisper in my/Aether's ear during the last Lantern Rite event.) However, they both have mutual respect for each other's efficiency. Their interaction was brief, so they didn't really get to know each other.
• Dimitri, Edelgard, and Yuri wished not to offend any Liyue citizens and to not be cheated like the tourists they are, leading them to Yanfei, who was more than willing to teach someone about Liyue's laws and how to avoid scam artists.
• Claude wants to learn about Liyue's culture. Being the idealist that he is, he hopes it'll help him find a way to convince Almyra and Fodlan to stop fighting. This leads him to ask around, starting conversations with countless familiar faces.
• The two Byleths were keen to bring Sothis to a food stall, as the goddess has only recently attained a physical form thanks to being summoned. The two were met with a fist to the gut each after commenting on how cute she looked while eating.
• Arval, being in a similar position as Sothis, is also accompanied by the two Shez's. However, they seem more interested in physical activity like dancing or making their own lantern.
• Hubert, while keeping an eye on Edelgard from the shadows, was scared half to death when he realized he was being watched by a masked spearman. While their face was covered, he could feel a glare that threatened to pierce his entire being. Truly, none can escape the eye of The Vigilant Yaksha.
• Lorenz could be found trading poems with Xingqiu or Hu Tao.
• Jeritza was accompanying Mercedes and was practically being harassed by Tartaglia's requests to spar after hearing about him from Felix.
• The Traveler and Paimon met Constance and Hapi. They were kind of put off by Hapi's seemingly uncaring tone, but it was cute how her tone would shift when talking about her Coco. Constance was bosting about house Nuvelle as usual. When the two groups parted, Paimon couldn't help but comment on how familiar Constance's behavior was, but she couldn't explain why.
• Ingrid had lost sight of Sylvain, and when she found him, he was talking to Shenhe. Assuming the usual was taking place, she grabs Sylvain by the ear, apologizes, and drags him off, leaving Shenhe confused, as they were just talking about flowers.
• Monica is attached to Edelgard at the hip, constantly trying to get her to wear some accessories she thought would look nice on her.
• Bernadetta, still on the boat, decides to paint the harbor as the lanterns lit up the city enough for her to see it, and her window gave her the perfect view.
• Linhardt tried getting books from Wanwen bookhouse, but he couldn't tell fact from fiction, as in he couldn't read Teyvat's writing. Due to language not being a topic of interest for him, he gives up.
• Caspar and Ignatz had left the city. Caspar had too much energy to stay in the harbor, and Ignatz wanted to paint Liyue from a good angle. Both had a chance encounter with Kazuha, who complimented their respective qualities.
• Balthus had told everyone about Genius Invokation and suggested it to them as well
_______________________________________
If someone is absent from this, it means I couldn't think of anything involving them. My knowledge of certain characters is limited( I had to dig for Lorenz's poetry bit. ). Also, I know Yelan isn't really like that, but I put that in because I thought it might get a chuckle out of some people.
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