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#i feel so at peace listening to this song
mysticheathenn · 2 days
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Reassuring Messages From The Universe
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about messages reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. I felt called to do this reading, hopefully, this reading gives you some sort of solace, peace, and hope.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: The Chariot, 6 of Swords (Clarified by 2 of Swords, reversed), 4 of Pentacles (Clarified by 4 of Pentacles), The High Priestess, King of Wands.
Some of you may be dealing with depression, anxiety, or in general, your mental space has not been in the greatest of shape lately. Something is going to give you your spark back to help you trust and lead you on your way towards victory. You've been in your shell long enough holding onto the reality around you. For some of you, this is by choice but for the majority of you, this is because of your circumstances. You could be dealing with financial struggles or whatnot, either way, I see you finally walking down the path of where you want to go with no fear as to what will or can happen because you are trusting more in the universe (God, Allah, etc) that everything will work out. You're walking away from what could be a job, relationship, friends/family, or even just no longer letting your mental health and mindset get the best of you anymore and finally deciding enough is enough. If not you the universe will show you that enough is enough, this doesn't feel like a thrust into your new direction like a tower moment but more so of a gentle hand. Similar to how an animal is scared or nervous in their new home and you are gently letting them feel the lay of the land and giving them pets here and there of encouragement that everything is fine and that they are safe. This next chapter feels like safety, reassurance, and guidance from the divine. You may still be scared and may sometimes even revert back to what you know best but it will be more so of a quick mindset switch before you continue on this new path. I'm hearing where you are is no longer serving. Trust that you are being led to victory and not another lesson, financial bankrupt, etc. Lead with passion, lead by your passions, and live your life passionately. Be Bold and stop shrinking.
Extra Messages: Tea Trea Oracle: Strong emotion passionate love or hate. November. A period of ill health/Depression. Do not lower your standards. The key to the outcome of your problems. Involvement with the law (contracts or winning a legal battle). Obstacles you will overcome. Happiness.
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Pile ll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Wands, Strength (reverse), 10 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
Weirdly "Hit Me Baby One More Time" came to mind but not in the sense of what the song is about but more so that you are constantly being knocked down by life's challenges and most of you aren't sure if you can get up again. "Knock me down 9 times but I get up 10" - Cardi B (Get Up 10). Your strength is weary but something in you still has that hope and faith that something better is coming and you are right. With the 9 of pentacles and 10 of cups card something better is coming. Because everyone's desires and goals are different whatever this is that you have been dreaming, manifesting, praying, or just working your ass off for is finally coming into fruition. You just need to not give up before the finish line, you're almost there. "I'm almost there" - Tianna, Princess and the Frog movie. Your story might be similar to Tiana's or you may have a deep admiration for her for how she worked hard and finally got her dream of owning a restaurant. Tiana is you, you are Tiana in this reading. She went through some tough times and even thought about giving up a time or two but something in her just like yourself is holding on to that thread of hope that everything will pay off, you just need a sign. This is that sign. Keep hanging on, hold on to your guides/Universe/Ancestors/etc hand during this process when you feel you need that extra push to keep going. I am hearing some of you a fast may help give you more clarity or bring this to fruition faster. Some of you may have been thinking about fasting. Fasting can be anything. It can be not eating from 8am to 8pm, not eating breakfast and lunch, sustaining from social media or sex, etc etc. Whatever it is fast may give you the clarity and strength you need. Fasting is only for some of you
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: October. January. Good Fortune. Protected from negative forces beyond your control. A sincere wish will be granted. Period of frustration, lessons to be learned. The most difficult part is over. Major challenges to overcome. Something important, such as a new job or raise.
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Pile lll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, 7 of Swords (reversed), The Hermit, 4 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
There are two different messages for this pile. For some of you, you are dealing with someone in your life that is causing you a great deal of emotional and mental turmoil. You may even daily try to pray and wish this person away because you don't have the strength to do it yourself, while others of you are in hermit mode because you are tired of receiving people in your life that does nothing but make you hate people, wish you never met them, or just not want to connect with others in general. Either way, the main gist of it all is people are stressing you out and have not been treating you well forcing you to rethink everything in life. Some of you might even question your existence as if you are here to be a punching bag for those who have not healed their inner wounds. For those still dealing with toxic people I am seeing you going into a period of isolation. Your prayers, manifestions, cord cutting rituals are being answered. I'm hearing be careful what you wish for. So for some of you, this isolation is exactly what the doctor ordered while some of you will like it in the beginning but slowly realize exactly what this period of isolation may mean. You may be the type that doesn't do well alone or not always surrounded by people and this isolation it will teach you not only how to see your self-worth and what truly matters in your life (what you want and not allow people to treat you). Others who are in a period of isolation already may have been working on something if not you will receive an idea something that will bring you the emotional and financial fulfillment that you have been desiring for a while. Either way, at the end of both periods of isolation blessings, emotional, and financial blessings are to be found. Take this period of self-reflection as a blessing and utilize it to the best of your abilities to explore yourself. I get a sense that you don't know yourself pile lll. Some of you may have an idea of who you are, what you stand for, and your morals/integrity.....but do you really know yourself..the real you and not the one you put on as a facade. Do not be afraid of what is to come. Do not be afraid of peace and quiet. Embrace the silence. Embrace the change and shift in the current.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Honor and respect will come to you. Changes in your life. Sorrow over a loss. Financial Pinch. Happiness. Peace and Harmony. Deep personal strength and peace that assures success (period of isolation).
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Pile lV:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Cups, Awakening, The Hermit, Queen of Wands (reversed), King of Wands
Similar to pile lll, but different. Instead of this being about others causing yourself turmoil this is mostly about you not feeling confident in yourself or your abilities to do anything right especially regarding goals, talents, etc. For some of you, this idea was implanted by someone you once looked up to but for most of you, this has more to do with either perfectionism or just comparing yourself to someone else. You aren't realizing that the reason the grass is greener on the other side is because that person too had to put in the work to make it in such a state. They didn't just wake up with green grass but they nurtured it, fed it nutrients, and kept unwanted and negative pests or harmful animals away from it. You need to do the same for yourself as well. You are the grass that needs to be nurtured, loved, and spoken to with such kindness. Anything else that does not give you the feeling of growth, happiness, and peace has no room in your life pile lV. As mentioned before, in pile lll you may either be in isolation or in need of isolation to help clear your mind. Either way in this isolation, you will be finding yourself again. Some of you may even look up things on Tumblr, Pinterest, etc on how to be "That girl/boy/person", Cottage Core, or whatever aesthetic or vibe that you have been wanting to do either way you want to become more tapped into who you are without caring what others may think. You are stepping into your power and becoming happy with life and possibly even trying to romanticize your life more. Some of you may even want to start a YouTube channel to help romanticize your life with edits and so forth. Weirdly I am feeling the vibe of slow-living content (only a few of you.) If not slow living waking up at 5 or 6am in the morning type of routine. Either way, this message is to reassure you that you are and will be coming back to yourself. It may take some time, trial, and error but when you listen to only yourself and not others, you will flourish beyond belief. Take this time to document your journey so you can see your growth as to when you become the person you are meant to be. Being yourself is the key to your financial abundance. That's all I hear. I don't know what they may mean for you either way being and finding yourself is the key. This could be like I mentioned YouTube, this could be giving into your desires to knit or crochet weird things or even making figurines and selling them on Etsy...whatever the thing is, being authentic is the key.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Someone or something is trying to come between you and something you want. Recognition, Reward for merit. Chain of events that will affect your life. Career. March. News of a birth or new business opportunity. Happiness. Money will be coming to you. A goal-oriented person.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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rooksamoris · 2 days
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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.
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💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.
💞 — jamil viper x reader
💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)
💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.
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Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.
And I walk through countries, a vagabond.
Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless. 
All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon). 
You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.
“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”
Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.
He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.
Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?
Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.
He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.
Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).
He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.
You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”
“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”
You swallowed and nodded.
The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.
Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with. 
Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.
He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.” 
“The tea is great.”
“Thanks.”
There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.
You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.
Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”
That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.
“Jamil…” you trailed off.
He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.
Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.
You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.
Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.
Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.
He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.
Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.
One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan. 
He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja��Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his. 
Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.
He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.
“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,” 
Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now. 
He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.
“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.
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zeroeightzeroone · 3 days
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Hiyaa,
I have a request?
Producer!Bang chan x reader
Established relationship
Angst/comfort
Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.
The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.
Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.
Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺
And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after
creative differences - bang chan
genre: angst, comfort, eventual fluff
pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader
warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity
notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words
wc ~4.3 | moodboard
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
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since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.
the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.
bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.
currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.
letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.
at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.
with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"
he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.
"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.
"which ones?" changbin questions.
han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"
"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."
"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."
"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."
"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.
"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"
chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."
the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.
"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.
"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.
at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."
changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"
han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.
"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."
han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.
"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."
a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.
"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."
"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"
chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."
"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."
"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.
"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.
"that's what i'm hearing!"
"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."
"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."
"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"
the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.
"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."
han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.
"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.
"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."
"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.
"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."
"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.
"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."
chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.
meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.
when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.
"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"
they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.
"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."
"we?"
changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."
your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"
not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.
"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."
you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.
you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.
chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.
"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"
when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.
when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."
"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"
you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."
chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.
"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"
"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.
"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.
"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.
"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."
you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."
chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:
"yeah? sure."
the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.
"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.
chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.
moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.
meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.
"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.
you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"
chan shrugs, "for this. being here."
you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."
you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.
"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"
the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.
you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.
you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."
"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."
chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."
your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.
"thank you," chan repeats.
this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"
"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."
you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."
chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.
in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."
you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.
"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"
you nod.
"really? you're not just saying that?"
you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."
chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.
"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."
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scorpioriesling · 2 days
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I Look In People's Windows
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Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: angst
Summary: It's been years... years since the breakup. He is no longer yours. He never really was, always keeping you at a distance. But, there were some good times. Maybe that's why you keep hoping to see him again, anywhere. Just one more time.
SR’s Note: Cannot get this song out of my head, and yes I am doing an Eris story! I love writing him. This one ends happy, just trust.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
The day he left was the day you'd changed.
He'd tried to reason with you, to make you see why you couldn't be together anymore; it was the day his father killed his younger brother's lover.
Perhaps, he changed on that day too.
"You have to go," he'd said. "You have to get out of here. Now." You remembered it like it was yesterday; there was no option for questioning or changing his mind this time. You'd already started crying, before the argument began.
"I don't care, Eris! I love you, I can't just leave..." You could still feel the way your heart broke, split right in two. Eris had been frenzied, frantically gathering your things and packing them in a backpack.
"And I love you! Don't you see that? I mean, really -- don't you get it?" He threw the backpack on the bed, and you'd watched from the doorway, water dripping from your chin and onto the expensive oak flooring.
"I know you're afraid, but-" He charged over to you, taking your wrists in his hands.
"I am not afraid. Of nothing. Of no one." He said, so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You narrowed your watery eyes at him.
"You are." Is all you said. He dropped your hands, returning to the bed and snatching up the backpack. His back had still been turned to you when he said:
"I won't have you end up dead like Jesminda." Another silent sob racked your body, and you tried hard to keep from shaking.
"You know I'd love you to the ends of Prythian, Y/N." He said, voice quieter now as he approached you and slipped your arms into the staps of the pack. "I would do anything for you." A tear slipped past his eyeline. "Hell, I would jump into the cauldron for you-"
"I don't need anyone jumping into anything," you say, brushing your thumb over his tear-stained cheek. "I just need you. Me. I don't want to not know you anymore." The last part came out shakily. "Does it feel alright to not know me?"
His hands pulled your waist close, and he wrapped his arms around you one more time. You remembered feeling his shoulders shaking, your tears staining his mahogony jacket as you buried your face in his chest. You inhaled deep, smelling his campfire and cinnamon scent one more time...
And now here you were, still addicted to the "if only"s. If only he'd let you stay. If only he'd run with you. If only he was still yours...
You hadn't realized you'd wandered out of your neighborhood, and into the town square. The sky was gray and dull; reflecting how you'd felt inside. When was the last time you'd truly seen the sunshine?
On the last day you'd spent with your love.
Meandering through the Autumn court streets was usually peaceful, not many people being out this time of year as the air had turned a bit chilly. You would constantly check inside shops, the big windows highlighting the guests inside. You don't know what you'd do if you saw him now; its been years since he told you to leave. You'd listened, and stayed away; but that didn't help your mind playing tricks on you. Thinking you'd seen him boarding a train; seeing him at the tables of Christmas parties you couldn't bring yourself to attend.
You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the conversations around you, growing more and more as you'd ventured further into the square.
"I heard his kid did it."
"I can't believe the High Lord is actually dead."
"I was told that the oldest son slayed him, out of pure hatred."
What were they talking about? Certainly if they were discussing Lord Beron, you would have heard the news by now. If what they were saying was true and he was really dead, that would mean...
"Ahh, thank you Mariella. You always know exactly why I've come!"
Your body freezes, the whisper of sound drifting from an open doorway to a bakery on your left. You'd recognize that honey-dripped voice anywhere.
You break into a sprint, right for the bakery.
You knew you weren't decieving yourself this time.
Peering in through the storefront, you catch sight of his radiant curls, piled on his head. His genuine smile exposes his perfect canines; a smile you hadn't seen in so long. One you'd never thought you'd see again. He looked almost the exact same, just how you remembered him from all those years ago.
Your breath fogged up the glass, and you wiped it with your sleeve. The small squeak that came from the action caused Eris and the cashier to both peer out at you, and you felt an electricity bolt shoot through you when your eyes met his one more time.
He murnured something quickly to the woman, and raced out of the store. When he cleared the entry way, he stared at you in silence for a few beats, utter shock on his face like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He took one small step towards you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist and twirling you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled back and met those whiskey orbs, solely focused on you. You didn't care who was staring. You didn't care what people said. You only cared about the male in front of you.
"Eris, what... what happened?" You asked, voice breaking as you tried to contain the happy tears running down your face. He only smiled back at you longingly, taking one hand in yours and placing the other in your hair, finally feeling your wispy tendrils he missed so much.
"I feel as though I've waited forever for this," he admits, pulling you in closer. When his lips meet yours, the sweet apple taste is back. One you'd missed for so long. He continues kissing you for a few moments, relishing in the fact that you were finally back in his arms.
"And," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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tipsyleaf · 1 day
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I think I genuinely found the perfect song for Leon and his wife as like "their song".
(Yes ik it's the song from Twilight but it's fitting!!!)
Now, when I think about them getting married I don't think they did a big wedding. They got married on a whim because Leon had vacation time coming up. They got married by a justice of the peace at a courthouse in front of everyone they cared about and rented a party room at a nice restaurant they really love just to have a good meal and be with everyone who matters.
They didn't have a cake, no flower toss, no first dance. But you did get to dress up, everyone did. Just shared their happiness with everyone. You had a honeymoon for sure though. 2 blissful weeks in Italy together, the vacation they'd planned on taking together. Just to have a romantic get away.
You promised each other that you'd do something special for your first anniversary but you got pregnant and Violet was barely 3 months old on your wedding anniversary that the thought slipped both your minds.
But one afternoon Leon's heading home from a particularly grueling case. Everything that could have gone wrong almost did. And of course he's sitting in traffic when all he wants is to go home an see his wife and daughter. The only thing sounds are the engine and occasional honks from idiot drivers. So he turns on the radio to fill the silence. He catches the ending of some other song. The radio dj coming on and talking for a bit, he reaches for the dial when piano keys fill the car. He just goes back to waiting, sitting back in his seat as he does so.
And my God does he get emotional... He doesn't know if it's the stress he's under or if it's that he can't stop thinking about how relevant everything feels.
He knows his life is hard, It's been hard since that night in Raccoon City and everything that's happened to him. All the people he's seen suffer and the awful things he's seen. But once he met you he finally had something good. Something that gave him hope.
His life changed so much in the past 5 years of being together. You loved him. You married him. You gave him the family he's always wanted and his life is barely over a quarter of the way through. He gets to come home to you and the beautiful baby girl he loves so much.
How could he not finally be thankful for being alive?
Because he gets to live not to just be a weapon anymore. He's got something to look forward to.
Your anniversary rolls around. It's almost midnight and you're prepping your lunch for the next day at work. As Leon walks into the kitchen. Doing his usual schtick of wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Giving you the usual kisses with a tight squeeze so you can't escape his love as you squeal for mercy. He eventually stops his torturing affection and looks at the stove clock as you zip you're lunchbox closed.
Soon you're lifted from the floor being carried by the waist out of the kitchen.
"Leon! I'm not done yet!"
"It's our anniversary now so I get to do what I please."
"That's not how this works!"
He sets you on the floor, standing as you playfully glare at him. He hustles over to the stereo, plugging his phone in and turning it up, not loud enough to wake the baby.
"What're you doing?" You question, hearing the piano fill the living room as he hustles around the couch.
"What we should of done last year. Our first dance. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
"Leon, we've danced since we got married."
"Yes, but we never picked a song! So just, dance with me and listen. Please? Pleeeease?" He bounces on place till you sigh and wrap your arms around him.
You just stare into each other's eyes while you slow dance. Swaying gently to the music as you listen. Both of you getting emotional by the end of the song. Tears streaming down both your faces. Still smiling as you hug him tight.
"Being with you was one of the best choices I've ever made. I love you so much."
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kuonjiarincrow · 1 day
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Obey Me! Song Units I know will probably never come out but by darn I'll still die on this hill waiting for them:
(But considering All The Feels came out on a new YouTube channel named Triworlds instead of the Obey Me Official maybe it's not so far off? 👀)
The Fantastic Three:
Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos
(Nothing more needs to be said here.)
Purgatory Hall:
Simeon, Solomon, and Luke
(I really hope this one comes out. They're adorable. I love them sm I need more Simeon)
Cat:
Satan and Solomon
(Levi would also work here since the three of them get along well surprisingly. Belphie's voice would probably match really well with them too. Book worms unite!)
The Angels:
Simeon and Luke
(Simeon is best dad. No doubt on that. But I've also got this itch due to Hazbin Hotel since Sera and Emily remind me so much of them. The whole "I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder. You have to listen, it was such a hard decision. I wanted to save you the anguish it takes to do what was required." It would be nice to get a bit of foreshadowing under all the cute light they bring)
The Royals:
Diavolo and Barbatos
(I know I'm not ready for this one but I want it sm. Their vocals are deep so I feel this one would have more of a dark and brass-y type kinda like Trigger or Choose Me with maybe more guitar. Alternative: It's a one for one exactly like To Be A Princess from Barbie pun intended)
Sweets Masters / Gourmet Club:
Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub, and/or Luke
(This one could be them literally just naming different foods and I wouldn't even be mad tbh)
Invocatio:
Solomon, Barbatos, and Asmodeus
(Solomon and his Demons. I can already hear the back handed comments and snarky retaliations. Good shit.)
Speaking of back handed comments
Tea Demons / Brothers No More
Barbatos, Lucifer, and/or Simeon (ft. Satan and Mammon)
(These two are put together for they serve the same purpose. To get on Lucifer's nerves. JK but one can't deny that Barbatos and Simeon get a kick from Lucifer's reactions. Much like a certain cat lover and gambling addict. Belphegor and Solomon could also go here...at this point everyone is trying to turn Lucifer's hair white from stress. I just think it'd make for a fun song.)
Diabolus (?):
Diavolo and Solomon/Simeon
(This one is a bit tricky to put into words. It'd be nice if we could maybe get like a sort of The Other Side from The Greatest Showman mix with They're Only Human from the Death Note Musical of Diavolo and either Simeon or Solomon (or both) discussing their views on the three worlds and the best way to bring peace between them. If it's even possible. Again, it's a weird concept I find intriguing that could be a pretty good bop but most certainly won't happen.)
Venting Time:
Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos
(Literally just more of them tbh)
Royals and Brothers:
Diavolo and Lucifer, and Barbatos and Mammon
(It'd be nice to get a song with Diavolo and Lucifer since they're such good friends. The April Fool's video also left me wanting more Barbatos vs Mammon tbh)
Honorable Mentions:
These are mostly songs that I wish existed too but the ones above mostly focused on the Dateables rather than the brothers. But since one just can't get enough of them,
1. Big Brothers (Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan. Honestly, Levi needs more songs. Rock On!! Is one of the best unit songs, can't argue with that. But they're still the big three and Levi gets left out a lot :()
2. No Big Brothers Allowed (Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor. I love Satan and Asmodeus' relationship, I'm surprised there isn't more of them considering they're such good singers. And speaking of good singers, more twins pls)
3. Brothers Under a Pact (Mammon, Leviathan, and Beelzebub. I personally feel robbed that we don't have a song for them.)
4. Team Party (Mammon and Asmodeus. They're so full of energy they'd sing the best bop to play at the club.)
5. Where's My Money (Mammon and Leviathan. These tsunderes are so much more a like than they care to admit. There's potential for musical parallels)
8. I'm so thankful for all the hard work Solmare and the Boys do for us. They've definitely gotten better and more confident in their skills and it really shows. Spooky Night Parade, Magic Moment, Anniversary, and now All The Feels were all amazingly beautiful. Truly, I have no words for how much I love all these songs. They mean so much and I'm thankful for anything they bless us with. I can only hope they continue making incredible music.
6. 345 (Leviathan, Satan, and Asmodeus. Again, all three are great singers, it'd be cool to have a unit song for them.)
7. My Favorite (Lucifer and Belphegor. Big Bro vs Little Bro. The tension would be high here but their underlying love for each other is what does it for me.)
This post is really just wishful thinking on my part, the songs we have are so good I can't help but want more. Each instrument and lyrics have been given so much thought and I think they did such an amazing job at really capturing each character with their respective songs. Maybe I'll make a post dissecting each song. Or maybe I'm reading too much into them.
Regardless, thank you for the music❤️
If you managed to read to the bottom, thank you for reading my word vomit! It's 3 am and I need to stop procrastinating on sleep. Have a lovely day!
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 17 hours
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I Belong to You
Warnings: fluff, a bit of language, barely suggestive
I belong to you, you
Don't come my way
If you ain't here for love, don't you dare stay
A/N: Incredibly loosely based on a song, it just gave me the idea lol
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Before he met you, the first thing Jack did when he woke up was check his phone. He knew that after a couple hours of sleep there were text messages and emails waiting for his response, so rather than delay the inevitable, he got the day started.
Now, the first thing he does when he wakes up is look over at you. For just a moment, he feels like he's still dreaming, gently running his calloused fingers across the delicate skin of your thigh, watching your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, your eyelashes fluttering as you sleep. You reach over for him, a reflex, your hand landing on his bare chest, and it takes everything in him to turn off his phone for the day and stay in bed with you.
He isn't sure how he got so lucky, to wake up next to you every morning, and honestly, he isn't interested in pushing his luck by trying to find out.
He'd stay here forever with you if he didn't have a career he deeply cared about, or a dog that needed to go potty first thing in the morning. ****
The sun is just starting to rise as he decides to finally start his day. If he’s lucky, he can get some work done before you wake up and the two of you can spend an uninterrupted day together. You barely stir as he carefully lifts himself off the bed, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He slips an old hoodie over his head and grabs his journal from the nightstand drawer. He gets one more look at you before he leaves the room, a smile forming on his face as he takes in how peaceful you look, the leather-bound book underneath his arm, and Lou-Lou eagerly running at his heels.
Your eyelids flutter open as the morning sun streaming through the window warms your face. You turn over expecting to have a sleeping puppy and boyfriend to your right, but to your surprise, the bed is empty. You take your time getting up, lingering against the warm sheets before finally getting up, grabbing one of Jack’s flannels from the closet to cover up your naked form, and heading out to the living room.
At first the house is peacefully quiet, a perk of having elderly neighbors and living in the penthouse, but its not long until you hear a voice, sweetly struggling to get through lyrics of a song under his breath.
“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger"
You find Jack in his office, hovering over his desk as he repeats the only words of the song that managed to get stuck in his head after you forced him to listen to it so many times. You were able to sneak in without him noticing, and you stifle a laugh as you lean against the threshold, watching your boyfriend bop his head to no music. His gruff morning voice hits the high notes surprisingly well, and even you could admit you were impressed. Jack was a musical prowess, but there was a reason he went into rap music.
"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso"
You were so sure you were going to get a full performance of the song, but Lou-Lou broke your cover, barking when she saw you standing in the door, scrambling over to you so you could pick her up. Jack’s eyes went wide as he turned around and saw who was behind him, his face growing beet red as you received kisses from the puppy.
“How much of that did you hear?”, he asked, scratching at the back of his neck nervously.
“Baby, you’ve been singing the song all week.” You gently place Lou-Lou on the ground, and she sprints off to her toy. “I’m just surprised you know more than one lyric.”
Jack chuckles, giving you a weak smirk. You give him a soft smile, and he immediately forgets why he was even embarrassed in front of you in the first place. As soon as you’re close enough, he pulls you into his lap wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your chest. You both sit in silence for a moment as Jack pulls you closer, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his curls.
“What are you working on?”, you ask as you look over a Jack’s workspace, his journal open, random notes jotted down on the pages. He quickly closes it just as you make out the first couple of words, shifting you around on his lap so you don’t have a good view of the notebook anymore.
I Belong To You
You were surprised by his actions, so quick to hide what he was working on, but you brush it off, thinking its something for work. He doesn’t let people into his writing process until he’s ready and you don’t want to push him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. Still, you can’t help but wonder what those words meant.
“I was thinking I’d grab us some breakfast and then we can just watch movies today?” You looked down at Jack’s crystal blue eyes, his smile making you weak in the knees.
“Sounds amazing. I’m gonna take a shower while you’re gone.” Jack gave you a quick kiss on the lips and a swift pat on the butt as you made your way out of the room. You got one more look at his journal before you headed to the bathroom.
What could he possibly be hiding? Was it something good or bad?
Was he working on a new song?
Why didn’t he want you to see it?
“Pancakes, right?” You were so lost in thought, the sound of Jack’s voice made you jump. You could feel your heart beating in your temples as you came back to reality.
“Yes, pancakes. With ham, no sausage please!” You called after him as he slipped his shoes on and headed out the door.
You shook your head, knocking away all of the thoughts that were telling you to snoop. You looked down at the sound of Lou-Lou’s wine, as if she could tell you were up to no good.
“Come on, Lou. Have more faith in me. I’m not gonna look at your daddy’s journal.” You swept her up in your arms and walked to the bedroom.
After a long hot shower, most of the time spent chastising yourself for even thinking about looking at the notebook, you checked your phone for a text from Jack. He still wasn’t back, the line at your favorite breakfast place, Highland Morning, was long, and even being a Louisville icon couldn’t get him the food any faster.
Hair wet and in a pair of comfy sweats, you started cleaning up around the place, making your way though each room so neither of you had to worry about it after your movie marathon. You queued up a couple of your favorite flicks in the theater room and gave Lou-Lou a treat before you came across it again.
Jack’s office was always meticulously clean. He always said his head was a messy jumble of lyrics and beats, he needed the space he worked in to be the opposite. There wasn’t even a reason for you to be in the office, but you felt drawn to it. You walked over to the desk, your eyes never leaving the 8x10 inch binding of papers.
You weren't sure what came over you.
It wasn't like you to snoop through Jack's things; there was a level of trust between the two of you that took months to build, mostly on your end, because Jack had trust issues from being in the industry, but as soon as you knew the coast was clear, you pounced on his journal.
You gently ran your fingers over the gold embossed lettering that read "JOURNAL" in a beautiful calligraphy. The book was leather bound, the pages slightly worn as if it had been loved and cherished more than used and abused. The voice in your head was loud and righteous, in a way that annoyed the shit out of you.
I really shouldn't do this. If he wanted me to know what was inside, he would show me.
Right?
Your finger slipped against the first pages as you opened the journal. You immediately recognized some of the lyrics on the page from his first songs. River Road was one of your favorite songs Jack had written, and to see the lyrics on the page, as Jack first wrote them brought tears to your eyes.
Still working
Still waking up looking for real purpose
Still trying to figure out what it's gon' take
Still trying to find connection with some real surface level types…
You got lost through hundreds of pages of lyrics and notes, it was as if you had a look into Jack’s mind, and it gave you a new appreciation for how hard he works and how much he puts into his music.
Minutes or hours could have passed, you weren’t sure, as you tucked your legs underneath you in Jack’s large leather desk chair and read every scribble you came across. You were so lost in the words, any mention of guilt for snooping having left you long ago, you didn’t even here Jack’s footsteps as he walked into the room.
“Mhm”, he cleared his throat loud enough to get your attention, slamming the cover of the book over your hand. “What are you doing?”, he asked in a deadpan tone. Jack’s face was a mixture of confusion and alarm, and while you were fully expecting him to be angry with you, surprisingly, there was not a ounce of anger in his voice.
You thought about giving him the puppy dog eyes you knew made him week, or maybe even letting a tear or two roll down your cheek, but in the end, you knew it was best to come clean.
“I-I was prying.” You let out a sigh, slumping down into the chair. Jack sat down on the couch across from you as you continued. “I was being nosy and was just wondering what you could possibly be writing down in here. I didn’t even know people still wrote in journals in this digital age.” You let out a guilty giggle, Jack scratching at his beard and giving you no relief from the weight on your chest.
“Are you mad?” You finally squeaked out against the silence in the room.
“Depends”, Jack stood up, reaching for the journal, but you pushed it away, much to his annoyance. “Depends on what?”
“What you saw in there.” He motioned for you to stand up, and you obliged, waiting for him to take a seat before you plopped down on his lap. Your hands naturally tangled with the curls at the nape of his neck as you watched him flip through the pages, landing on a couple of lyrics you immediately recognized, and others you knew never saw the light of day.
“I got this journal from my grandpa when I was in high school, and I just started writing down lyrics or ideas in here anytime something comes to me. Now I always keep it with me, even when I travel.” You could feel the breath of relief he let out, as if he’d been holding something in for such a long time.
“I’m sorry. I never should have touched your things without asking”, you apologized, Jack’s hand affectionately squeezing your thigh to let you know he understood and accepted your apology. “Its not that I didn’t want to share this part of me with you, its just I don’t think everything I write down is good, and I want you to think the best of me.”
You tipped Jack’s chin to look up at you with your finger. His gazed roamed your face, landing on your lips. “I always think the best of you, Jack, because you’re an amazing person. Not because of the music you create or the money you bring in. I could never think anything but the best of you, okay?” Jack nodded, craning his neck for a kiss until you met him the rest of the way. He was gentle, kissing your top lip, your mouth separating just enough to let out a breath before he latched on, deepening the kiss, taking your breath away.
You could feel your face heating up as you broke away, a lazy smile forming on Jack’s face as he leaned back in the chair. “If I knew I could get a kiss like that, I would have shown you this journal a long time ago. He flipped through a couple more pages before landing on a mostly blank page with only a title written at the top.
I Belong To You was written in big letters, signifying their importance.
“What’s this? Something you haven’t finished?” You asked, running a finger over the page. Jack let out a sharp breath as he raked his hand through his brunette mop.
“Something I haven’t started actually.” Jack gently pushed you up and walked over to the bookshelf that was framed by the large windows in the room. He walked back over with a couple of notebooks, handing one to you.
one to you.
You quickly flipped through to see the same title on almost all of the pages, some filled with lyrics, some filled with aggressively crossed out black boxes, and others blank. “What is this?”
“When we started dating, I had this idea for a song.” Jack took back the notebook and haphazardly tossed all that was in his hands on the desk. “I have been trying to write the song for the last two years, and I just can’t do it.”
Your heart swelled with love at Jack’s confession. The fact that he was even thinking about you when he was doing something he was so passionate about was enough for you, but to also be trying to write a song, you couldn’t have been more flattered.
“You know I don’t need a song, baby.” You grabbed his hand, massaging the knuckles as he tensed up against you. “Honestly, its okay.” You could tell he was defeated in a way that had bothered him for such a long time, and you wanted him to let that all go.
“I don’t know what the hang up is. Every time I go to write, its like I can’t fit everything that you mean to me into a couple of sentences, and believe me I’ve tried”, Jack nervously bit at his fingernails as he thought of all the nights he stayed up trying to put down a verse and being unable to get out a single word.
You stood, wrapped your arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him in tight so he was forced to focus on you.
“Listen to me, baby, I appreciate more than you’ll ever know that you want to write a song about me, and our relationship, our love together, but if it comes to you, it comes to you, and if it doesn’t, I’ll know we had something that was too amazing to put down on paper in two verses and a chorus, and honestly that’s okay with me.” You kissed again, this time, allowing your lips to linger together, as Jack held the back of your head, giving him full control of the kiss.
“I love you”, he mumbled out, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too, Jack.”
Moments passed, and you could tell he didn’t want to move from the spot you were both in.
“Jackman.”
“Hmm?”, he answered barely above a whisper, his eyes closed.
“We still have a movie marathon to get to.” You both chuckled as Jack straightened up, giving you one last kiss on the forehead before moving to the theater room. You picked up his journals and placed them in the top drawer of his desk, where they would be out of sight, out of mind for you in any future snooping endeavors.
Jack was already snuggled in on the couch, digging into his omelet when you settled down next to him.  “You know I had a guy in high school who wrote a song about me?” Jack gave you a disbelieving look, making you scoff, a mouth full of pancakes.
“Unless he’s grammy nominated, babe, I’m not worried”, Jack chuckled, and you could see the remark didn’t bother him a bit. You just liked to dig at his ego sometimes for fun.
“Oh, no, definitely not grammy nominated. His name was Tripp, and I don’t think his band ever left his parents garage.”
Jack let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Tripp with the Garage band? What a joke.” You had to admit, hearing it out loud did sound funny. “How did the song go?” Jack was elbowing your ego just as much, thoroughly enjoying it.
“Oh it was so long ago, I can’t remember much but I think it was something like…”
“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer
Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger
The look on Jack’s face made you bellow with laughter, almost choking on your breakfast.
“I know you think that’s funny, babe, but its not.” He scowled at you before giving you a quick smile and turning back to the first of many movies you’d watch today.
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gotholdladywithadhd · 13 hours
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Good Omens Song of the Day
I know Aziraphale had to go but this is Crowley in grieving 😭😭😭
You are far When I could have been your star You listened to people Who scared you to death and from my heart Strange that I was wrong enough To think you'd love me too I guess you were kissing a fool You must have been kissing a fool
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Lyrics
You are far When I could have been your star You listened to people Who scared you to death and from my heart Strange that you were strong enough To even make a start But you'll never find Peace of mind Til you listen to your heart
People You can never change the way they feel Better let them do just what they will For they will If you let them Steal your heart from you People Will always make a lover feel a fool But you knew I loved you We could have shown them all We should have seen love through
Fooled me with the tears in your eyes Covered me with kisses and lies So goodbye But please don't take my heart
You are far I'm never gonna be your star I'll pick up the pieces And mend my heart Maybe I'll be strong enough I don't know where to start But I'll never find Peace of mind While I listen to my heart
People You can never change the way they feel Better let them do just what they will For they will If you let them Steal your heart
And people Will always make a lover feel a fool But you knew I loved you We could have shown them all
But remember this Every other kiss That you ever give Long as we both live When you need the hand of another man One you really can surrender with I will wait for you Like I always do There's something there That can't compare with any other
You are far When I could have been your star You listened to people Who scared you to death and from my heart Strange that I was wrong enough To think you'd love me too I guess you were kissing a fool You must have been kissing a fool
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kayann9 · 3 days
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The Darkest Night
Thank you again to everyone :) This is pure fluff. I always believed that Gale and Tav definitely know they have some feelings for each other before the 'Big Confession' and this is one of those moments. I have a sort of second part to this too.
Set just before Shadow Curse Lands.
Pairing: Gale X F! Tav (Serena)
Words: 1047
Rating: T (a lot of fluff)
The shadows around them seemed to grow heavier than anyone would have thought possible and they hadn’t even arrived there yet. Serena hated the dark. She’d never told anyone that. Her tent was always adorned with a flickering light, just enough to offer her some warmth against the unforgiving gloom. She had long since accepted that darkness was part of her life, part of what she needed, but each time the sun set and the midnight darkness shrouded her like the embrace of Shar, she could not help but feel lost and afraid.
She hid it well.
Always walking straight; always talking; always stepping ahead of the others, but each time a wayward patch of night caught her eye, a shiver erupted up her spine and the helplessness she’d known as a youngster flooded back into thoughts.
The Shadowcursed Lands loomed ahead, and this pervasive sense of dread loomed right along with it.
When they set up camp, it took all of her effort not to listen to her limbs urging her back up towards the Mountain Pass and the glowing vista they were leaving behind. No more lush greenery and bright flowers; no more sunsets and sunrises with the multi-faceted colours of a glowing sky. Serena had never wanted to go to a place less than the next step of their journey.
She rubbed her hands over her face before wandering over to her favourite companion’s tent hoping for some kind of distraction from her impending worry.
“What’re you doing?”
Gale smiled at her. He knew that tone well. The same tone she’d used before they’d traversed the Underdark. Her sing-song curiosity of the things he did made his soul smile.
“Perhaps you should come and find out.” He laughed and made room for her on his bedroll. She’d been in here a few times; enough times for him to make sure it was always kept orderly just in case she visited. Over the last couple of months, he’d tried convincing himself that he was making a fool of himself, but now he was facing down eternity, he could not bring himself to care as much. Instead, he soaked up her attention like the roots of a starving flower desperate to soak up moisture from the rain. 
One evening, not long after the fated visit from Elminster, she’d fallen asleep in there as they’d sat and read together. Ever since, he’d spent nights hoping it would happen again.
As she seemingly liked doing, she perched next to him, her chin resting on his shoulder and her eyes looking at the book he held. The kind of physical touch that was typical of lovers. The kind he’d not had in so long. It was difficult not to indulge in and now that he’d made peace with his destructive condition, it seemed silly not to indulge in it for who knew how long he would have left to enjoy it.
Selfish, maybe? Needed, certainly.
Gale had long since concluded that whatever her story was, she needed it as much as he did.
“This is like another language.” He could hear the squint on her face.
“Because it is another language. I found it in the temple. It is Githyanki. I think I have worked out a few of the key terms such as Queen but I am still trying to work out the narrative.”
“Why not just ask Lae’zel?”
Gale turned, his face only an inch from hers as she looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Well, if I were to simply ask Lae’zel, then she would be able to translate this simple passage for me, but I would not have learnt how to translate the myriads of passages encapsulated in those crypts. Imagine the knowledge trapped in these texts. If I can work out the terminology in this one, then I can do it for the others. Of course, the plan is Lae’zel can check that I am correct while we have her here.”
Serena scrunched up her nose and chuckled. “I like watching you learn. Can I stay whilst you uncover the great mysteries of the Githyanki?”
“Of course, you can. You needn’t ever ask permission sit with me.”
Serena did not need a second invitation, especially with the gravity of what hid on the horizon for them. Instead, made herself comfortable leaning against him taking in his warmth like he was the sunshine she was leaving behind.
How she loved watching him as he read and studied; he was so far removed from the people she usually encountered that she had been almost captivated with him from their first meeting. His stories and how he told them with his whole body, his graceful manners misaligned with occasional clumsiness, his over-confidence and uncertainty co-existing oddly together; all of it made her feel lighter. Dare she say, happy? He was her own little slice of daylight amongst an oncoming storm.
“Thunder or perhaps clouds?” The low hum of his voice broke through her daydream.
His brow creased as he grabbed the quill and scribbled on a stray piece of parchment.
She closed her eyes at the scratching on the paper and curled up next to him, tucking her feet underneath her. She stifled a yawn as she leaned into the softness of his side, breathing in the scent of the autumncrocus he’d spent the day collecting. His shirt was soft and without a second thought, she wrapped an arm around his middle before letting her drowsiness claim her.
Gale stilled at the movement but after one look at her peaceful face, the face he’d decided he definitely loved, he relaxed and let his arm drape around her in the same way, his fingers stroking her hair.
“You are more captivating than any language that could ever be spoken.” He whispered into the air, part of him hoping she was asleep but an ever-growing part of him wishing she had heard. “Whatever is causing you the worry you feel, I will make sure I do my best to shield you from it.” He pressed his lips gently to the top of her head.
Carefully, he put the text down, trying his best not to wake her and instead decided to study the subject he was most fascinated by: Serena Tavarnos.
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fwoopersongs · 8 months
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晚风 - Evening Wind
youtube
A version of me [1], high up, looks afar [2]; there is a cloud that has stopped. Planning a stealthy capture, to the Night, Dusk now belongs [3].
Within the dense forest, lights flicker resolutely, flying along. And the drifting heart? Suspended. ‘Til the curtain of the night envelops.
The night has grown deep, stars lighting the colours of the way back home [4].
Summer's evening wind - it blows. Like someone’s embrace, there’s… lingering warmth. Take all the tender stories, knead them in ‘til they are one with the night, and with that distance [5], forgotten.
People pass by each other and parting ways, scatter.
The evening wind this night - it blows. Like our inhale, exhale, there’s… lingering warmth. And our story, from our first meeting it fades, ‘til distance separates [6] us again; we had thought ourselves in love.
We pass by each other. A goodbye, and we’ve parted.
The evening wind this night - it blows. Like our inhale, exhale, there’s… lingering warmth. And our story, from our first meeting it fades, ‘til distance separates us again; we had thought ourselves in love.
We pass by each other. A goodbye, and we’ve parted.
...............................................................................................
I heard the first line in the two minute version of this song subbed by @halfxin on twitter and dived for youtube for the full thing, then ended up listening to it on a loop for the longest time. So, here's an impulse translation from me xD
Have also since watched her subbed MV lyric video and it is so lovely <3 I really like her interpretation and phrasing for the song. Special shoutout to 'while the fluttering heart remains unsettled until the dusk closes around it' and 'blending our sweet story thoroughly into the colors of the night to be set aside and forgotten' - it makes them so vivid!
[1] 某个我 (mǒu gè wǒ) - Literally, a certain 'me'. I heard this and was immediately 100% invested. Is it a version of yourself across possibilities, or a past, present, future self?
[2] 眺望 (tiào wàng) - Being high up and looking still further. It feels like freedom, it feels like peace. Someone said, the last cloud drifting idly by will not stay. But this one stayed!
[3] 夜幕把日落拥有 - I have always had the biggest soft spot for anthropomorphizing nature, and this is so so so cute? The curtain of night taking the sunset as its own.
[4] 归途 (guī tú) - Literally, return journey, doesn't actually specify that the return must be 'home'. But there is only one place I would say I 归 to. And that's home. So this is a personal choice.
[5] 疏离 (shū lí) - Not just 'distance'. It feels like isolating, like emotional detachment.
[6] 隔阂 (Gé'hé) - Now this is emotional detachment that leads to barriers in emotions and communication.
某个我 眺望着 有片云朵停驻了 计划秘密地捕捉 夜幕把日落拥有
密林里闪烁执着 飞着 飘着的心呢 悬着 到暮色四合
夜晚更深了 星星点亮着 归途的颜色
夏夜的晚风 吹着 像谁的拥抱 余热 把温柔的故事全部都揉进了夜色 疏离地忘了
人们从身边经过 再各自散了
今夜的晚风 吹着 像彼此呼吸 余热 而我们的故事相遇再褪回到隔阂 自以为爱着
我们从身旁经过 一别就散了
今夜的晚风 吹着 像彼此呼吸 余热 而我们的故事相遇再褪回到隔阂 自以为爱着
我们从身旁经过 一别就散了
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the alcott - the national, taylor swift
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hooked-on-elvis · 4 months
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Some of my favorite pictures of EP and two cute ballads. ♥
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picspammer · 7 months
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Dave Gahan in One Night In Paris
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chirpsythismorning · 1 year
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The ST5 time jump is rumored to be set in 1988. Listen To Your Heart by Roxette came out in 1988. I don't think that is a coincidence.
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weepynymph · 1 year
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I'm so afraid of what you'll say.
I'd like to know if you'd be open to starting over from scratch?
I'd like to know if you'd be open to giving me a second chance?
[Scratch, Kendall Payne / Rory & Jess]
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cornerful · 1 month
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Sméagol and the Gift
'Now!' said Sam. 'At last I can deal with you!' He leaped forward with drawn blade ready for battle. But Gollum did not spring. He fell flat upon the ground and whimpered.
'Don't kill us,' he wept. 'Don't hurt us with nassty cruel steel! Let us live, yes, live just a little longer. Lost lost! We're lost. And when Precious goes we'll die, yes, die into the dust.'
Devastated by this. Just a little longer, he begs. Even though his existence is a torment. Even though the will that holds him to life is barely his own anymore. He has long outlived his time but it's such a cruelty that now the only freedom for him is in death. I'm glad Sam didn't kill him but the whole scenario is awful.
When a mortal keeps a ring of power he does not gain more life, he continues, denied natural mortality as the fear of death is amplified and twisted into fear of separation, nothing matters anymore but the keeping, the continuing. In that miserable existence there is no peace, and at its end there is no graceful goodbye to life, there is only dust. Sudden, empty, and final.
It would take murder to spare him that. Or falling with the ring into the fire.
Bilbo let it go in time (did he feel anything when it was destroyed?) Frodo is freed of it now, though the toll it extracted for the separation was at very least a finger. It was too late for Gollum for the price to be anything other than it was, and that's brutal.
If you live long enough, death is no longer the enemy. What Sauron did to Gollum ensured that it would always be the enemy, to be feared and avoided for ever, once time and the ring had fashioned it into the only escape left. Evil.
#lotr newsletter#suicide mention in tags#haunted by the au in which gollum goes into the fire with the ring On Purpose#bc he still couldnt separate himself from it but frodo's compassion had somewhat released him from its evil#in a way an honor to frodo's quest and in a way an act of mercy to be able to give up the self-torment#which gives me shrimp feelings bc of the everything but also back to the original point that it is so tragic that death is all that awaits#bc death is natural and that was taken from him. what is the will to live in the absence of natural death?#smth deeply horrible about that#matt bugg screaming we'll be dust. so famous and rent free#lotrn325#damn it im having more thoughts#wraiths vs gollum: discuss#the nature of the ring kept affects the nature of its possession no? those rings were made FOR thralldom#sauron has power over gollum but not That Much and his own ring is all abt the domination#what would a 2000 year old gollum even be like ._.#the wraiths are probably even more tragic bc at this point they're like...undead. even death isn't freedom#on that topic what happened to the witch-king's spirit fr#I'm pretty sure he isn't ever actually called that in the book but it's epic and gender and way snappier than lord of the nazgul#anyway shoutout to i think yambits for breaking the lore and giving them peace that was sick#where's my gollum rehab fic#i know he's a horrible little man who is constantly trying to murder my boys but i love him so#the au...gollum gaining the willpower to destroy himself because he was given trust and kindness and companionship for once. FUCKED UP.#fucked up horrible i need a minute. being shown compassion and then becoming more self-compassionate. epic#that compassion entailing seeking the freedom of death your soul was denied bc this is fantasy and somehow the exact#arc that usually leads to fighting to live is now flipped. HUH.#yeah jirt alluded to his motivation being For Frodo but i maintain that the willingness to die is HUGE there and extremely relevant#me and my red string keeping me company#ugh tag championships i win i think but at what cost#who wants to spin around miserably in a pool like franknfurter with me as we listen to gollum's song#tam you're already invited i have a floaty for u
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