╬═ 𝕺ne Winged Angel ,

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ a fragrance of memories 。﹚

[soullusts]

𓊈 𝕿HE REUNION IS NOTHING TO FEAR 𓊉

❛ 🎱 he—wrapped in lace, etched in

reverence—haunts my dreams; a sweet

daydream, yet a deadly nightmare. ❜

ꪆ⠀⠀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 🐈‍⬛ ... severely haunting, otherworldly, a fallen angel—heavenly or hellish? perhaps hellish, prophetic, holy, and devilish all at once. a pomegranate stained divine being. ୧ (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

︵†︵︵◝ ♱ ◜︵︵†︵

📼 𝖌uardian 𝖆ngel❜𝖘 𝖇ible ♱

𝖍oly 𝖌rail. ✶ 𝖘criptures. ✶ 𝖆ngelology.

꒰𓏼´ `𓏼 ྀིᥩ 𝖕rophet 𝖔f 𝖒yself 🪄

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

[soullusts]

╬═ 𝕺, The dragon will have three heads:

Maggie to be a monarch, with her striking green eyes that forces people to marvel, and powerful words that will carry compassion. A crown of justice will sit atop her head with conviction, heavy, threatening to weigh her down, but she will remain steadfast. A pillar of certainty, security, and conviction, she will lead a community with fairness. She will be feared by the wicked, and admired by the innocent.

Beth to be a poet, with a voice crafted from the softest of silks, and a presence that calms even the deadliest of storms. Her words will drift like a flower from the sky, landing softly into a lush forest, sweet enough to entrance even the strongest. A pillar of care, softness, and delicacy, she will stand strong alongside those she cares about. She will be cherished by the strongest, and loved by the weakest. Nevertheless, she will meet a fate worse than heartbreak.

And Amalthea to be an executioner, with her gaze filled with coldness and intuition, and the quiet thrum of immunity sliding through her veins. Her judgement will be final, as her voice fills the space without a shout, and a sword sits at the ready on her hip like a silent threat. A pillar of calm, silence, and vengeance, she will lead alongside Maggie with a mystery that intrigues. She will be etched into history, remembered for her strength.

I. AMALTHEA KALLOS SELINOFOTO ╱ the executioner. ꫂ᭪ the group’s negotiator, bullshit detector, & babysitter. the calm before the storm & the storm itself. like father, like daughter. rick grimes’ girl & his advisor. the embodiment of vengeance—quick, sharp, silent, lethal. both death & the maiden. “you believe me like a god, i’ll betray you like a man.”

♱ AN INNOCENT ╱ YOUNG ╱ THROAT CUTTER. 𓏲

[soullusts]

scripting for my twd dr like this is a novel. why is scripting in 3rd person WAY easier???? i feel like a fanfic writer rn.

[soullusts]

rewriting ALL my drs currently...

[soullusts]

The day I choose to be active is the day a$ap drops. Truly the height of my day

[soullusts]

percy jackson dr, but it also flows into heroes of olympus. im hades & persephone's youngest child, but im not old as shit. think, instead of being born during like.. the bcs, im born during the same era as percy, but not really born??? just plopped from a flower. not at all hated by any of the campers, but instead beloved for my distant, yet charming nature. im not a female or a male, im nonbinary because i adore giving gender confusion in every reality.

[soullusts]

did I awake from my hibernation to randomly compliment people? oh, absolutely. I swear I'll make a comeback .... one day.

[visualcve]

ㅤㅤִ𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐀𝐆𝐎 ♱ 𝐃. 𝕽EALITYㅤঌㅤ𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌ㅤ𝗈𝖿ㅤ𝗍𝗁𝖾 ─── 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.

[soullusts]

I am, truthfully speaking, so in love with this. You somehow incapsulate the exact vibe the name “Aerith” exudes. Like yes, give flower girl who's absolutely ethereal but is in love with the most loser boy imaginable in the best way.

[soullusts]

if you see me keep redoing my pinterest ...... No you don't.

[soullusts]

gulp.... hello! hi. uhm, comeback in december. okay? okay.

[whitrcbbit]

ANASTASIA'S WAY TO WONDERLAND ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 🐇 ㅤ ㅤ #3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✿ welcome to mad hatter's tea party!!! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ hosted by anastasia rembrandt

୭ MY MANIFESTING ADVICE .ᐟ

hey babes!!! since i'm a master manifester now and it shows in my 3d i'm gonna post you my loa advice that helped me or what did i do to finally be where i am after six years. remember that this is advice from MY journey and it does not have to be yours, however, i'm glad to provide you babes with advice.

⭑ trust yourself. it's quite literally the best you can do. loa and shifting are individual matter, so listen to yourself. maybe sit down on your bed with piece of paper and a pen. analyze what do you feel you've been doing wrong so far, what didn't let you manifest/shift. write it down, it'll help you visualize what's the problem for you and what do you need to work on.

⭑ before you fall asleep focus on the blackness in front of your eyes and visualise your manifestation. chose what do you want to manifest. feel it, affirm it, whatever suits you. set your goal clear. i do it once every night and then just forget about it, think of something diffrent, focus on my before sleep scenario with my crush etc.

⭑ focus on one manifestation at once. i have adhd so i have milion thoughts per second, i give up easily. but you need to chose one you want the most at the time. once 3d shows it, then start manifesting next thing.

⭑ manifest that everything that goes in a way of your manifestation is irrelevant and doesn't matter. how? affirm, persist, make dialogue with yourself. eg. annoying doubt comes up, what do you do? tell yourself that it's okay because it doesn't matter anyway. why? anything that goes against your goal isn't manifesting. it's just a thought with no value.

⭑ your first manifestation: you're a master manifester. affirm that once you decide something, 3d follows instantly. that you're in charge. that nothing is impossible. that you're a god. you know the drill.

⭑ PERSIST!!! i know you read this in every post about shifting or loa but it really is a key. don't give up if you can't see your desire. it already happened. you have it. believe it.

© whitrcbbit 2025. all rights reserved.

🏷️ @soapyfairie @starsdrz @miainbetween @inthenao @literallygoldrush

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

[soullusts]

Oh, babe, this is so tea. I actually really needed to see this advice,,, you have the most impeccable timing.

[soullusts]

Detroit Become Human dr?

Where I let the storyline go on based on every choice and consequence......

Making reed900 canon, I love them so much. Markimon ..... Hm. I don't know yet.

DBH dr....

[soullusts]

Everytime I come on this fuckass app there's some new drama ... Why are the people I LITERALLY FOLLOW beefing ????? over drama from DISCORD????? oh my days bruh. God forbid I come online to get some motivation 💔

[soullusts]

YES, the post is still coming. ..... I've just been revamping my pin boards and getting fixated on TWD ... AGAIN. I have been soo preoccupied with school ..... I haven't finished 2 assignments, and they aren't being finished anytime soon. ☺️

[soullusts]

wait wait what... WHAT am I missing, why is my homepage talking about a racist shifter ?????? HUH??? Bro I only disappeared for like a week and a half, what could've possibly happened within that time frame. 😭 No, I haven't forgotten about you guys (hi moots ily), and yes, I'm cooking up something.

[soullusts]

I am alive . Ish . Partially. I AM ALIVE.

[moonyskarma-deactivated20251025]

IT STICKS TO YOUR FINGERS & CLOTHES . . . memories that keep me up at night in my twd reality

⌖ we stopped on I-278 due to the amount of traffic. my sister, elizabeth, sat on the hood of the car and waved to other cars. she was only nine. mamma stayed in the car and tried to reach my father — they'd been separated since i was ten , but she wanted to make sure he was okay. that's just the kind of person she was. an older woman , probably in her early fifties , approached our car. she was followed by women and children. she told me she was taking any and all women and children to a military safe zone, somewhere they'd be safe. i thought to myself, "what is this, the titanic?" and then realized — yes. it was either escape now , or go down with the ship.

mamma had seen the woman approaching and joined me and elizabeth outside the car. i told her what the woman had said. at first , she refused. told me she wouldn't leave me. "i'm not leaving you, bambino, i'm not leaving my baby boy," were her exact words. i shook my head — pulled the duffle bag full of her and elizabeth's stuff out of the trunk of the car and handed it to her. pulled off my bomber jacket — a hand me down from my father — and draped it around elizabeth's shoulders. mamma hugged me — she knew i wasn't going to let her and elizabeth stay with me , not when there was a chance at safety. at survival. tears in her eyes , she kissed me on the cheek and told me to always be safe. that she'll always be with me.

elizabeth slid off the hood of the car. the look on her face will haunt me forever — her eyes , exactly like mine , full of tears. i told her it was time for her to go , to go be safe with mamma , and she started sobbing. her little hands clenched into fists around the fabric of my jeans , and she refused to let go. "no, charlie, i'm not leaving you. i'm not leaving, don't make me." she was begging me. begging for me to let her stay. how do you explain to a nine year old that it's not her fault? that she didn't do anything wrong? that i'm not sending her away as a punishment, but for her own survival? mamma had to help me pry her off my legs. i promised her i'd find her again , that this wasn't the end. it didn't change her mind , or ease her sobs. tucking her hair behind her ear , i knelt down and hugged her. "promise me you'll be good for mamma, okay? promise me you'll always listen to her." i'd said , and she nodded against my shoulder.

i watched my mother adjust the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder and take my sisters hand — watched them walk away , elizabeth looking back at me every few steps until they were out of sight. i still have nightmares about that night.

⌖ we'd been in the prison for a few weeks at this point. the tension between me and daryl was practically unbearable. it'd been getting worse and worse since the night we kissed , back on the farm. he avoided me for a week after that kiss , then drifted back into my orbit. and then he was drifting away again. i could never understand him , could never make sense of the emotional whiplash he gave me every time he looked at me. until that night. the night he took it further than just a kiss. the night in a prison cell , the rest of our group outside cooking and telling stories around a bonfire. the night we disappeared , the night the rest of the world ceased to exist.

he thought i'd fallen asleep afterwards. i wasn't. i felt the dip of the mattress as he shifted onto his side. i lay on my stomach , my head faced away from him. i felt the warmth of his hand hovering above my skin , felt the hesitation in his careful movements. when his calloused fingers brushed my back, feather-light, i had to stifle a sigh. to witness a man whom among others portrayed such a cold demeanor exhibit such softness as this was breathtaking. the tip of his finger trailed up my spine and to the center of my tattoo. i'd gotten it on my eighteenth birthday — angel wings on either side of a hanging balance. he was the first of our group to see any of my tattoos. he traced the wings. the balance. back to the wings. a barely-there touch at first, hesitant and careful, then bolder. i've never told him i was awake that night — i couldn't take that away from him. he'd always been a bit like a feral dog — he'd run if you got too close.

⌖ we weren't doing well. glenn and abraham were dead. daryl might as well be — nobody knew if he was dead or alive. until negan showed up at alexandria. i was playing guitar for judith to help her nap, when someone yelled that the saviors were here. i left judith with olivia , tucked my gun in my waistband , and headed down to the gate. and that's when i saw him. pale, dirty, with a black eye and split knuckles. i felt my heart drop out of my ass. everything around me faded to a blur until it was just... him. him and his tear-filled blue eyes. he met my eyes for a moment and then looked away.

i called for him. the fact that negan was about five feet away from me meant nothing as i said his name — until negan stepped between daryl and me , his expression smug. "no. nope. he's the help. you don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and i don't make rick here chop anything off of him." he said. i ignored him. called for daryl again, and immediately afterward the bite of lucille's barber wire pressed into my chest. pushed me backwards, away from daryl. i retreated — only for a little while. later, when negan wandered around alexandria with daryl trailing behind like a dog, i tried again. called his name. negan actually laughed, cold and hard. "well, well... look who just can’t keep their hands off ol’ daryl. can't leave him alone, can you? little pet, always crawling back to him." i felt my stomach twist. saw daryl's hands clench into fists. i felt anger burn white hot through me — he can't be allowed to get away with this. i moved without thinking, and the next thing i knew i was flat on my ass , looking up at negan, who now had a gun — my gun that he took from my waistband — against daryl's head. all the air in my lungs left me in a sharp exhale. rick tried to intervene but negan told him to shut up. he pressed the barrel harder into the side of daryl's head. "you see this? this is what happens when you don't listen." he said, like some kind of fucked up schoolteacher.

what happened next was probably the most humiliating thing i've ever done. i didn't stand up. i didn't fight back. i got on my knees and begged. tears in my eyes, looking up at negan, i begged for him to let daryl go — to take me instead. rick looked away. daryl tried to — negan, without saying anything, nudged his head back to look at me with the barrel of the gun. i begged. and begged. and begged some more. after a few moments , negan started laughing. handed the gun to one of the saviors and told me to get the hell up. i did. he put his arm around me and thanked me for my "valiant effort", before gesturing for one of the saviors to take daryl away. i didn't see him again for weeks.

⌖ unbeknownst to me , daryl had escaped the sanctuary and was hiding out in the hilltop. rick had asked me to come along to the hilltop to discuss things with gregory , and i agreed — but he didn't tell me daryl was there. he didn't tell me daryl was safe. i'd been living the last few weeks in my own personal hell , not knowing if daryl was alive or not.

when we arrived at the hilltop , i walked right into maggie's arms. she'd been somewhat of a maternal figure in my life since i met her , even though she was only a few years older than me. and then i saw daryl appear from behind one of the buildings. the fading black eye. the tears he tried to hide that dripped down his cheeks. i couldn't breathe. for weeks, the darkest corners of my mind had tried to convince me that my humiliating act back in alexandria had sentenced daryl to death — and here he was. in front of me. i took a step forward. then another. watched the way his head hung low, the way he moved forward without thinking. only inches apart, his head dropped onto my shoulder and i wept. for everything that negan had withheld from me for so long, for sleepless nights looking up at the moon and begging the powers that be to return him to me, i wept. my hand on the back of his neck, his around me — like they're meant to be. like we're meant to be.

⌖ i was at the hilltop again. i'd been visiting as much as i could, just to see daryl, but it was difficult — especially with the saviors tracking our every move. but i risked it, often under the cover of darkness , because the reward was worth the risk. nights with him became my haven , my eye of the hurricane , my moment of calm. watching the stars , talking , or just sitting with him was my favorite thing ever. he seemed to be healing as well — at least around me. in the quietest moments of the night , he often said i was the one thing to ever bring him solace. we moved on, we healed.

i'd always been the musician of the group. the one with the guitar i salvaged from a walker-infested music shop because it was "too pretty to leave behind." the one who sang judith (and everyone else, apparently) to sleep in the prison when she wouldn't stop crying, the one who sang old songs to remind us of the good old days. often i'd pull my guitar out and just mess around, creating melodies i'd probably forget within the hour.

and then came the day i'd been messing around for some of the children of the hilltop and a melody popped into my head , so i excused myself and found daryl behind the trailers, excited to show him my new tune. i hadn't played more than a few notes of a tune i later found out to be from 'easy street' by the collapsable hearts club when my guitar clattered to the ground and i found myself slammed against the side of a trailer, daryl's forearm against my throat, his eyes dark — unseeing. he didn't see me. he'd told me the saviors used a song to condition him, but he wouldn't tell me what the song was. i guess it was this one. i called his name , voice low , like calming a feral dog. he didn't hear me. didn't see me. i called his name again. reached for him, let him feel my hand, gentle on his cheek. only when i started to see stars did he stumble backwards like he'd been electrocuted, eyes wide. i didn't see him for three days after that.

[soullusts]

OH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ... my poor sweet babies, oh no :(((( now I'm. Crying. HAPPY ENDING! HAPPY ENDING! HAPPY ENDING!!! I am now CEO of you & Papa D getting a happy ending.