#But this is My Fault. I have done this to myself.

[torlibram]

Let me tell you something. You know, while I have your attention, what with the chains and everything. And before you start planning your escape: yes, I have a tendency to monologue, and yes, I am still very much alive and well, and yes, those are the desiccated bones of the previous set of heroes to try what you did. So hush a minute and listen.

Have you ever thought about why I set myself up like this? About what my eventual goal is? I'm not Evil with a capital E, I'm just painted that way by those with a vested interest in the status quo. Seriously. The big wigs at the Ministry want me gone because I am a challenge to their rigid thinking and blinkered mindset.

It was all my parents fault, really. They had it in their heads that I was going to be the greatest wizard ever, head of the Ministry by the age of twenty-five, all that nonsense. So they had me reading runes before I could read ordinary Westling. I could conjure air spirits at the age of five, if you can believe it. Oh, mock all you like, I could do it.

They tucked bits and pieces of regular education in around the magic stuff wherever I had a spare minute. Nine, sometimes ten hours a day, six days a week from the moment I was old enough to hold a wand.

I never knew any different, of course. I never had time to go out and meet kids my age. I never knew what it was like to be normal. It was memorising spells and learning techniques and practicing gestures and fifteen uses for newt livers in everything from poisons to phantasmal conjurations. It got to me, I won't lie. All I ever wanted back then was to make them proud.

It ended when they wanted to do the grand unveiling. Revealing their protégé to the unsuspecting world. Sending me off to the Invisible College to wow the staff there and start my ascent to greatness.

It all backfired when I met my fellow students. They were just starting out. They couldn't have summoned a wet fart after a big curry. I didn't believe it at first. How could they have gotten a place at IC without the merest cantrip to their name?

Some time in the library showed me what my parents had done to me. To my life. The rage that gripped me when I realised that everything had just been for their benefit: so they could be the gracious, smiling, loving parents who had helped their darling boy achieve the greatness for which he was so clearly destined.

I stuck it out for one semester. Used that time to get everything I could from the library, every advanced technique and spell that the undergrads aren't supposed to know even exists. I picked the brains of my tutors, too. Oh, don't look at me like that, I don't mean literally. I asked some leading questions and learned where to focus my research is all.

Then I left. My parents got all upset about their son disappearing and there were searches by the King's men, but I was well away to the north.

I got my start with a troll. One of the old fashioned lads from up in the mountains. He jumped out from under his bridge and demanded a toll. I offered him a few castings of a sculpting spell I knew, help repair the bridge a bit, and before I knew it, I had an actual friend. First one in my life and it was a troll! Talking to old Belag, I saw the rough deal that he and his people got and I thought "I could really stick it to dear old mum and dad if I start championing the little guys, the underdogs."

So that's what I did. After Belag and his bridge, there was an orc tribe going through a constitutional crisis that I happened across at the right time to get myself installed as the new chief's adviser. From there it was straightforward to nudge the tribe into better trade relations with neighbouring tribes, better treatment for the slaves that did the agriculture (which meant better crop yields and less lashing-to-deaths) and so on.

King Knob-Cheese, excuse me, King Nhobesh, the orcish turn of phrase does tend to rub off on you, was against all this, of course and so sent out adventurers to end the "orcish threat". My magic saw them off before they had their swords out. The next lot managed to get half a sentence of self-righteous declamation in before the acid storm took them, but I saw the way things were going. I advised the chief to pack up and move north of the mountains to make it harder for the King's men to find us. Took a lot of arguing, but I got him to agree in the end. He finally admitted he didn't want to end up with his head on a pike and rallied the tribe to move out.

Setting up this side of the mountains was tricky. The local tribes didn't fancy a bunch of southerners moving in, so I had to crack a few heads by levitating damn great boulders over them before their deputies saw sense.

After that, it was plain sailing. The northern tribes got the hang of things quite quickly and evolved into socialist communes inside a decade. Belag had a word with his cousins, who talked to their friends the stone giants and we had this place blocking the major pass to the north practically before the King knew there was anything going on. I was kind of specific in the design of this fortress. Yes, we want to keep the men of the south out, I said, but we should keep the option to open the way wide to them if they ever grow up. And so grew the tower of Broad Door.

Look, is all this history boring you? Because we can go back to the injecting molten lead into the marrow of your bones if you like? That's more the Ministry's sort of speed, isn't it? No? Ok, tell you what: you seem to have a halfway sensible head on your shoulders, unlike some of your erstwhile comrades. The northern collectives can always use a sensible head with a good sword arm. I'll turn you over to our recruiting department and they can show how much better life is this side of the mountains, what do you say?

Why? Because there is no better revenge, nothing, than knowing that my dearest mummsy and daddikins have to disavow all knowledge of their son, that my every act will shame them in the eyes of their peers, that I have subverted so many alleged heroes to my cause by just common sense and social justice. When I think of the ulcers I must be causing them because they can't bring themselves to admit the Dark Lord of the North is their fault, why it warms my heart on the coldest of nights.

Learning magic is an arduous journey, requiring sacrifice and dedication. Your parents made you give up your childhood to study magic—only after completing your studies do you learn that most other mages actually choose to start in adulthood.

[elene78-blog]

Jeremy and Renee bump into each other in the Foxes Tower lobby after the match. They both look at each other with wide smiles and tense muscles until, in a friendly way, they simultaneously extend their hands.

"Hi, you're Renee Walker. It's nice to meet you. Jean's told us so much about you," Jeremy says, his smile so wide his jaw hurts.

"And you're Jeremy. I know you don't like being called by your last name because Jean told me so. I've heard so much about you too."

"I'm sure not as much as we do," Jeremy says.

"I'm sure it's not like that," Renee says with a bright smile. There's a tense and awkward silence for two such friendly people, and it's Renee who breaks it by loosening her smile. "To be honest, I'm a little jealous of how much Jean talks about you."

Jeremy's eyes widen.

"You, jealous? When you hugged before and after the game, I almost burst into tears. You look so great together. You… you pulled him out of there. You saved him."

Renee shakes her hand, shocked.

"No! You were the one who helped him out of that hole. When I saw him this morning, I barely recognized him. He's alive and happy, and it's all thanks to you!"

"Not at all, really. He did it all! We just supported him. You're the amazing person who worked the miracle."

Renee tilts her head slightly, pouting.

"Thanks, but I'm not that nice of a person."

Now it's Jeremy's turn to bow his head.

"Me neither. You're giving me credit I don't deserve."

"I'm just a bad person trying to be a good person," Renee says, deeply affected.

Jeremy puts his hand to his chest.

"Me too! I did something horrible. I was a cocaine addict, and my brother committed suicide because of me. I'll never forgive myself for that."

Renee hugs Jeremy, who's practically sobbing.

"Oh, Jeremy, I'm sure it wasn't your fault," she comforts him, and Renee starts to cry too. "I killed a man!"

The two of them continue crying until Jeremy realizes what Renee said. His eyes, still brimming with tears, widen, but he decides it doesn't matter and hugs Renee back.

"He would have done something wrong!"

As the two of them cry, Jean, Cat, and Laila watch them from a corner, stunned.

"This isn't how I thought things would turn out," Laila says.

Jean tilts his head slowly, at first surprised and slightly relieved to see Jeremy and Renee hugging and comforting each other between sobs. Then…

Cat sighs.

"Really, honey? We have to find a way for you to let out those raging hormones."

Jean purses his lips… but he keeps staring.

[selfaware-promise-au]

The hurricane was going through Astral Express.

Hurricane named Akivili.

Pom-Pom's little legs were moving as fast as possible, trying to keep up with Aeon.

"HOW COULD THEY?! HOW COULD THEY DO THIS?!"

They were in Akivili's private Astral Express car. Among personal belongings and knick-knacks from trailblazing expeditions, you could find the images of Creator. The current one. But now all the tapestries and statues were destroyed.

Like a hurricane, Akivili trashed every image of Alaric.

"THEY... THEY PROMISED TO SAVE PEOPLE! THEY PROMISED THEY WOULD DESTROY THE CULT! THEY..."

Akivili froze in the middle of the cabin. THEY slump down, falling on their knees. THEIR body was rocking with sobs.

"They will destroy everything. Take away freedom. And it's all my fault!"

Pom-Pom carefully approached Akivili. THEIR eyes focused on Conductor. THEIR fingers go through Pom-Pom's fur.

"Pom-Pom... It's all my fault. All poor souls tortured by the cult members... People who died from Tyrant's experiments... The upcoming mind control... It's all my fault. I brought it to our homes."

Pom-Pom hugged THEIR arm.

"No! It's not your fault! It's only Alaric's and no one else. We... We will fix it! We will save everyone!"

Akivili shook THEIR head.

"But I am also to blame. I should have done something else. I shouldn't have been asking Alaric for help."

A look of determination flashed on THEIR face.

"I will send Trailblazers away. And I will crash the Express with me on board. If I die, my path will become stagnated. Travels between worlds will disappear. It should stop Alaric and The Cult. At least in death I will redeem myself."

Pom-Pom hit THEIR arm with their small hands.

"No! It's not your fault! P-Please, Akivili... Let's remain hopeful! We will fix it!"

Akivili stayed silent. THEY just looked at Pom-Pom. THEY stand up.

"I need to meet with the others. Maybe we could think about something."

There was supposed to be some hope in THEIR words. If only light of hope reached THEIR eyes.

-----

There were discussions. There was help. There was Terminus's prophecy that returned the light of hope in Akivili's eyes.

Akivili's Hope. A person who are yet to be born or return to their world. But they already were Hope.

There was Rebellion.

There was holy fire, roaring through Akivili's private Astral Express car.

There were Akivili fighting with Tyrant's soldiers among the flames.

Fire hugged them.

And only ashes remained.

_____

One day, Express crashed.

One day, it was repaired.

Pom-Pom awoke in the world of mind-controlled people.

Aeons were losing hope. But still they waited for Akivili's Hope's arrival.

There was nothing they could do to help the Astral Express Crew to get back control over their minds and actions.

Pom-Pom could only pray and believe in Akivili's Hope.

______

There was something strange in the air. The World felt... right. Like it was before. When Akivili were around.

Then Pom-Pom saw Welt and Himeko. They were aware of what was going on. Of what Tyrant's spell was doing to them.

Dan Heng and March were aware of what was going on. Of what Tyrant's spell was doing to them.

There were three new passengers on Express.

Pom-Pom were waiting for their first meeting.

A pair of similar gray-haired people. Pom-Pom greeted them.

The third passenger walked into the Cabin.

Pom-Pom were ready to greet them.

But words stuck in their throat.

For ages, they were just a picture. For ages, they were Akivili's Hope.

You stumbled when Pom-Pom hugged your leg. They were sobbing.

"It's you... It's really you! You are here! Akivili's Hope are finally home!"

For that one moment, nothing else mattered. Akivili's Hope were here. The World will become right again. Tyrant will fall.

Pom-Pom were sure of it.

[iamthepulta]

i did it u_u

[hinamie]

spins him around trying to understand the pink mop he calls hair

[choccy-milky]

another batch of MCs as thanks for drawing clora🥹💖💖 once i start working on something i cant rest until i get it done so ive legit been working on these nonstop for the past 2 days from when i wake up till i go to bed.......i can finally rest 🧎‍♀️........THANK YALL AGAIN💖💖💖🙏🙏🙏 MC's in order: @moonstruckmoony @syaolaurant @dwightschrute11 @boxdstars @versailles-black @ccelicaa @ethniee @wrongcog @ashiori-chan @tamayula-hl @celestinawarlock @serpensortiamaxima @silvyadrakkon @jadepalaceyaya @zorro-d-t

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

[bixels]

While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.

Bye.

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

whenever dan and phil say words i remember misha collins coming out as straight and think, maybe if we’re really good, that could be dnp too 🙏

[simcardiac-arrested]

never volunteer for anything university related man. also go listen to this

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Not having senioritis about my dissertation but I AM having it about writing tutoring

[straycalamities]

i hate hate hate hate hate so much when people take you forgetting things as caring less about them or whatever it is you forgot not having meaning to you "enough" to remember

i forget things that mean the world to me all the fucking time like i'm sorry i'm just like this

[venomouslilith]

.

[iamthepulta]

There is a woodpecker hammering at the side of the house and it's a bold take for 10:30 am, bird.

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days