#I spent so long on this I can’t believe it

[nomnomnamsworld]

VOID SUCESS STORY

I KNOW I SAID IM TAKING A BREAK BUT WTF I JUST INDUCED PURE CONSIOUSNESS I ENETERED THE VOID AWARE😭💞

IT HAD BEEN MORE THAN A FUCKING YEAR!

i spent months crying, struggling having panic attacks😭😭

i am literally so proud of myself for doing this..

but at the same time i feel stupid for complicating this 😭

i’ll enter it again now because i didn’t get to affirm 🌚 i was confused and was trying to figure out if this is the void or not🌚

i have been here for more than a year, i have had so many mental breakdowns 😭 i can’t believe this happened 😭😭

i genuinely don’t know what to say.

the process:

affirmed “i am” casually through out the day (idk if this step is important)

now while attempting don’t day dream. instead focus on your breath.

only your breath. how it touched your nose and how is leaves your nose.

then remember how you’re just a soul ok? you’re not the body, when you DIE YOU LEAVE THE BODY. i remembered my mom saying how she saw my grandmas breathe stopping.. this hit me so hard just now.

it didn’t even take long. put all your focus on your breth. then you’ll feel everything getting white. like you’re in a white room.

ignore that and continue FOCUSING ON YOUR BREATH.

you’ll feel so fucking weird after that. like you’re not breathing anymore. you’ll realise you can’t feel anything. LIKE SO FREAKING WEIRD.

this is my biggest success till date. because i felt it so hard

idk if i affirmed in the state or after exiting tho

BUT THE VOID IS REAL YALLL

FOCUS ON THE BREATH NOTHING ELSE. and relax.

I CANT BELIEVE IM WROTING THIS.

major thanks to all the bloggers.

@gorgeouslypink for introducing me to this(i saw her post)

@adambja for being kind enough to help me during such a rough fuckinv time. i was so depressed and desperate at that time but she reached out to and helped me so much. im crying as i write this

@b4ddprincess and @luvmanifesting for emphasing on pure consciousness and relaxing

@beesfairlyland and @blackbutterfly0309 for being my friends in this journey and helping me so much. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH.

im half asleep right now. i’ll wake up and share more🤞

[sanemistar]

⋅˚₊‧ ᡣ𐭩 every part of me is in love with you

contains ★ choso x fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 0.4k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event. event m.list ★ jjk m.list

“my wife, my dear and lovely wife.” choso finds himself unable to stop smiling whenever he calls you his wife, his head can’t wrap itself around the concept of being married to him. he’s still trying to believe that you’re finally his to keep for as long as he lives.

the word ‘my wife’ rolls off his lips repeatedly, and you can’t help but giggle fondly. your stomach flutters as he calls you his wife ever so endearingly. your cheeks turn into a lovely shade of rose and you flash your husband a tender smile as you clasp his hand in yours tightly. your thumb gently stroking the back of his hand, wedding rings bumping against one another. you lift your head up to meet his loving, affectionate gaze, and you stare at his beautiful face as if it’s the only thing you can see.

“every part of me is in love with you.” choso coos gently, his tender voice echoes through the walls of your shared bedroom, ringing inside your ears like a serenade. you feel a spark starts igniting inside your heart upon hearing the sweet declaration of love from your beloved husband.

it’s not the first time choso tells you that he loves you, he has already told you so multiple times throughout the years that you’ve spent together. it’s no news that he’s infatuated with you, but every time he does it feels exactly like the first time. your heart races like crazy as if it’s about to burst out of your ribcage and butterflies form all over your stomach. no matter how many times he expresses his love for you, you’ll simply never get tired of hearing it.

being with choso, your heart has never once felt empty, not even for a split moment. he never fails to fill you up with overflowing feelings of love and adoration.

in a moment full of affection and intimacy, you two stand before each other as you share mutual promises to spend your upcoming days, weeks, months and years together.

“and i love you… i love you so much, my one and only love, my husband.” you utter your vows to him, declaring your pure, absolute devotion to him and him only. this man before you is the only man you’ve ever really loved, and the man you’ll gladly spend the rest of your life with side by side forever.

you stand on your tippy toes and press a quick, tender peck on his lips. you pull away, but your faces remain close to one another’s. your noses bump gently and he smiles against your lips before he presses another long kiss on your soft lips.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @itoshivy @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @17020 @kalsplace

[baphometsss]

On Solas's romantic history

Okay. I know what the consensus is. That he’s way too smooth in Inquisition to be inexperienced but... (and I’m fully prepared to get shat on for this lmao don’t kill me)

When he kisses Lavellan, that doesn’t read to me like he’s super suave and seductive. It reads more like—endeared by them trying to run away after kissing him, then being so surprised by how good the kiss felt, that he grabs Lavellan, kisses them again, pulls back with a surprised look on his face, and then goes in for more. It’s touch-starved, desperate, hungry. It’s not really all that smooth because he’s literally bending them over backwards lmao like Solas can you chill maybe

He is very smooth when flirting with Lavellan, but he's also an absolute gobshite who's spent thousands of years sassing the hell out of wannabe gods so that's not a surprise. He's witty af and enjoys some back and forth.

Solas is a very lonely man. He keeps everyone at arm’s length because he’s seen what getting close to people can do to him. His biggest fear is dying alone, and he almost gives into that because it’s what he believes he deserves for all he’s done. His life has been so stressful for so long that he's almost totally unable to consider anything else but his battles. He even says explicitly that he's tired.

That doesn’t make me think of someone who was out there in Ancient Elvhenan sleeping around all those years. No doubt he considered it, but he likely didn't pursue much with anyone physical; he enjoyed spending as much time as possible in the Fade. (The banter with Blackwall doesn't count to me personally since Solas himself thinks the whole idea is preposterous, which speaks for itself really.) Especially after being a slave/servant to Mythal seems to have voided him of his agency for some time. Then he led a rebellion and fought for thousands of years against brutal tyrants. Any one of the people he was close to could’ve been trying to kill him. Lavellan, however, has no reason to do so, so he can flirt with them freely. In all that time, it seems as though the only people he allowed to get close to the real him were Felassan and Mythal. I don’t think he slept with either, because the relationship was familial. Felassan was also loyal to Mythal, but didn’t burn his vallaslin off. (Is this a right hand/left hand of the Divine parallel again? Two brothers and their mother? Idk, I need to think about that one). For creatures with bodies made from the blood of Titans, they don’t have blood families. They would’ve had to forge their own, which is what Solas did with Mythal and Felassan.

And then there’s his ‘it has been a long time’. Most have taken this to mean that it’s been a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, but given what we know now and that he spent thousands of years in the Fade while his body was in uthenera… I wonder if he’s actually saying-- ‘it has been a long time since I lived in a body’-- ie. ‘it has been a long time since I felt physical drives, a long time since I have felt so physically real’. To me, this makes a lot more sense than the ‘he’s thousands of years old he can’t possibly be a virgin/inexperienced’ take bc like... My friends. It probably didn’t feel like thousands of years to him bc he’s essentially always existed. Time is different for spirits. It’s not like he’s gonna go: ‘well I’m nearly 4000y/o, better lose my v-card’. Time is no object when you are a timeless being. Then, given the path his life took, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for him to be that experienced given how hard it is for him to trust.

I also personally headcanon him as heavily demisexual/demiromantic too. His true nature is so non-physical that the idea of him being very promiscuous or something just doesn’t fit his character. He needs a mental connection, to feel something, before sharing much of himself, or allowing himself the vulnerability intimacy brings, something he clearly feels with Lavellan based on how shaken up by it he is.

And it’s also canon that Solas has never been in love before meeting Lavellan. So. If he went however many millennia without falling in love, it’s also possible he went without intimacy for a long time too.

To be clear I’m not trying to say that this is the correct conclusion. My opinion has just changed a little since Veilguard (I used to think he was being smooth etc bc he's old af/v experienced, but with confirmation of former spirit Solas it’s changed my perspective somewhat)

Also:

‘Things have always been easier for me in the Fade’

‘I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams’ my man is shooketh guys SHOOKETH

[hazelira]

rope to nowhere

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You had always known Jay carried a quiet sadness with him. It was there in the way he looked at the sunset, a distant longing in his eyes as if he were searching for something that had slipped through his fingers. You should’ve seen it coming, but you convinced yourself otherwise, hoping that the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his words were enough to make him stay.

You find him in the kitchen tonight, staring into the cup of coffee he’s cradling between his hands. The dim light casts a shadow across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the curve of his lips—lips that once smiled at you like you were the only one in his world. But now, there’s an emptiness, a hollow look you can’t ignore.

“Jay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the refrigerator's hum. He looks up, startled as if he hadn’t noticed you standing there.

You take a step closer, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. “Are you still thinking about her?”

He freezes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. You see it in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, and the lingering affection he’s tried so hard to bury but never reasonably could. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He doesn’t need to say it. You already know.

“She still has your heart, doesn’t she?” you ask, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. It’s a question you’ve been too afraid to ask, but the silence between you is enough to answer.

Jay’s shoulders slump, and he looks away, his knuckles turning white as he grips the cup. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, breaking the fragile hope you’ve clung to. “I thought I could move on—I wanted to—but…”

“But you can’t,” you finish for him, your voice cracking. The tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not when he’s already miles away, lost in memories of a love never yours.

He sets the cup down and reaches for you, but you step back. “Don’t,” you choke out, shaking your head. “I can’t—Jay, I can’t be her replacement. I can’t keep pretending I’m enough when I know you’re still in love with her.”

He looks stricken, his hands falling to his sides. “You are enough,” he says desperately, but even he doesn’t believe his words. It’s there in his eyes—the guilt, the regret, and the shadow of a love he can’t let go of.

You swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile. “If I were enough, you wouldn’t still be thinking about her.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. It’s the final nail in the coffin, confirming everything you feared. You take a shaky breath and turn away, leaving the room before the tears spill over.

Behind you, Jay doesn’t call out. He doesn’t stop you. And that, more than anything, tells you everything you need to know.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You find yourself standing in the hallway, gripping the edge of the doorframe as if it’s the only thing holding you up. The familiar ache settles in your chest, spreading like wildfire, burning through the remnants of your hope. It feels like a final goodbye, even though no words have been said. You can hear Jay’s soft, uneven breaths behind you, but neither of you moves. Neither of you dares to speak.

The memories come rushing back—nights spent laughing under shared blankets, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the room, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheek as if you were something precious. You realize it was all borrowed time, a fleeting moment where you were allowed to pretend he was yours.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to turn back and face him one last time. He’s still standing by the counter, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed. The sight of him like this, broken and lost, would have once made you want to rush over and hold him close. But now, it only makes your heart shatter more because you know his sadness isn’t for you. It never was.

“Did you ever love me?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You don’t want to know the answer to it, but you need to hear it. You need to know if there was ever a time, even for a moment, when you were more than a replacement, more than a temporary comfort.

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide and filled with a pain you’d never seen before. He looks at you like he’s drowning and searching for the right words to say, but there’s nothing he can offer to make this better. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, his voice trembling when he finally speaks. “I… I wanted to love you,” he admits, and it’s like a punch to the gut. You almost double over from its force.

You let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “Wanted,” you echo, the word hanging heavy in the air. “But you didn’t. Not really.”

He steps forward, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, shaking your head. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

His hand drops to his side, and the look of defeat on his face makes your heart clench. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and you hate how sincere he sounds. You hate how much you want to believe him, to tell yourself that this isn’t his fault, that he never meant to hurt you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less accurate. It doesn’t change that you’re standing here, pouring your heart out to someone who can’t love you.

“I thought I could be enough,” you say, barely more than a broken whisper. “I thought if I just tried harder, loved you more… that you’d look at me the way you looked at her.”

Jay’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw clenching as he struggles to keep himself together. “You are enough,” he insists, his voice raw and desperate. “You’re more than enough. This isn’t about you. It’s me—I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“Then why?” you demand, your voice rising, the words spilling out like a torrent you can’t stop. “Why did you let me fall in love with you? Why did you make me believe we could have something real when you were never truly here?”

His eyes snap open, and for a moment, you see it—a flicker of something like regret, like he wishes he could take it all back. “I thought I could move on,” he says, his voice breaking. “I thought I could be the person you deserved. But every time I try… she’s still there. In my head. In my heart.”

Your breath hitches, the final confirmation tearing you apart. It hurts in a way you never imagined. It could be like you’re being split open from the inside out. You nod slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I guess this is it, then,” you say, your voice hollow. “Nothing left for me to hold onto, is there?”

Jay’s eyes are wide, panicked. “Wait,” he breathes out, taking a shaky step toward you. “Don’t go—please. I can’t lose you too.”

You let out a shuddering breath, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “You already have,” you say quietly. “You lost me the moment you couldn’t let her go.”

You turn and walk away, your heart breaking with every step you take. He doesn’t call after you this time. He doesn’t try to stop you. And somehow, that hurts more than anything else.

The door closes behind you, and the silence that follows is deafening. It feels like the end of a chapter, the closing of a book never yours. And as you walk into the night, the cold air biting at your cheeks, you finally let the sobs wrack your body, your hands clutched to your chest as if that could hold together the pieces of your shattered heart.

You loved him with everything you had, but it was never enough. The truth is, you were never the one he was in love with, and maybe you never would be.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

The days that follow blur together in a haze of quiet loneliness. You bury yourself in work, in books, in anything that keeps your mind busy, hoping to silence the echo of Jay’s words. But they linger, a ghost haunting you in every corner of your thoughts. I wanted to love you. You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, but it doesn’t make the pain any less raw. You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that the love he offered, however fractured, was real. But now, all you feel is the hollow ache of unfulfilled promises.

You haven’t heard from him for a few days. The silence between you stretches out as if the space between you has become a chasm neither of you knows how to cross. Every time your phone vibrates, your heart races—until you see it’s not him. Memories flood your mind when you pass by places you used to go together. His laugh, his warm gaze, the way he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, telling you everything would be okay.

You keep your distance, not because you want to punish him, but because you must protect yourself now. You can’t keep pretending you’re okay when every fibre of your being aches for something that isn’t coming. You told him you couldn’t be her replacement, but the truth is, you were never meant to replace her.

You weren’t supposed to have to fight for a love that was already spoken for.

A week later, you’re sitting on the couch, reading a book that doesn’t hold your attention, when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You glance at it—Jay’s name flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, your heart frozen in place. Then, with trembling hands, you pick it up, your thumb hovering over the message.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t know what you expect, but the message feels like a dagger to your chest. You stare at it, your chest tightening with every passing second. You’ve spent the last week telling yourself that you were done and couldn’t go back to someone who couldn’t give you what you needed. But here it is—his message, the bridge to the conversation you’ve dreaded.

You don’t respond right away. You let the minutes into hours until you’re sitting with a cold cup of tea, staring at the message as though it holds the answer to everything. You wonder if, deep down, you’re hoping for something—a spark, a sign that maybe he’s finally ready to choose you.

But deep down, you know it’s a lie. You know that whatever he has to say, it won’t change the truth. You were never meant to be his.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you type a response.

“What is it, Jay?”

The message sits on your screen for what feels like an eternity before the three dots appear—his response coming slowly as if he’s trying to find the words. You can feel your stomach twist in anticipation, in dread.

“I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I never should’ve let you get so close if I couldn’t let go of her.”

You close your eyes, the pain hitting you in waves as you read his words. The apology doesn’t feel like enough—not after everything. He can’t undo the past. He can’t erase the fact that you loved him with everything you had, only to watch him look at someone else with the same love you once craved.

“I understand.” You type, and your fingers are cold against the screen. “But you can’t keep apologizing for something you’re unwilling to change.”

You don’t know why you sent it. Maybe it’s because you’re tired of the back-and-forth. Perhaps it’s because you finally realize you’re worth more than this. The phone buzzes again.

“I wish I could be the person you deserve.”

Those words strike you with the force of a freight train. You let the tears fall, but they don’t feel like weakness this time. They feel like release. You’ve been holding on for so long, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would turn around, but the truth is clear now: He’s not the person you deserve, either. You deserve someone who can love you without hesitation, someone who doesn’t keep their heart tethered to the past.

You don’t respond. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it aside, the weight of the silence now oddly comforting. You know it’s time to let go.

Later that night, you stand by your window, looking at the city lights, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. You allow yourself to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. You didn’t get the love you wanted from Jay, but you’re learning to let go, to finally stop clinging to something that was never meant to be.

In the quiet, you find peace—not because you have all the answers, but because you’ve finally let go of the question.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

As you stand there, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, you realize you’ve been holding onto him like a drowning person clings to a lifeline that was never meant to save them. The rope, frayed and weak, slips through your fingers, but you keep gripping it, believing, somehow, that it will pull you to safety.

But in the end, it only drags you deeper into the water.

And now, as you finally let go, you feel yourself sinking, not into darkness, but into an ocean of cold, endless silence—where the only thing left to hear is the echo of your heart breaking.

[legionofshaza]

The emissary's choice

Lucien week day 6 @lucienweekofficial

🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱🔱⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️🔱

Lucien strode through the streets of Velaris, his steps measured.The City of Starlight was aglow with twilight, its sky shimmering with colors of dusk. But tonight, none of it reached Lucien’s eyes. His mind was focused, braced for what was to come.

There was a time when Lucien had been welcome here—trusted, even. The emissary of the Night Court had earned a precarious respect. But now, after the wars, after the betrayals, he walked these streets with an invisible weight pressing down on his shoulders.

He felt their stares. He heard the whispers.

Lucien Vanserra. Traitor. Spy. Outsider.

It was a reputation he could not escape.

"He's no better than his father," someone had once spat behind his back. The words had cut deeper than a sword. The name Vanserra carried a legacy of cruelty, one Lucien had spent his entire life trying to distance himself from. And yet, here he was, in Velaris—no longer trusted, no longer the man they had once believed him to be. Tamlin's lackey, Beron’s son, unfit to be at Feyre’s court.

Despite everything he had done for this city, for his friends, his loyalty still hung in the balance.

Lucien halted at the edge of the Sidra, the river’s waters glittering like liquid starlight. For a long moment, he stared out at the view, letting the cool night air settle around him. He knew he had only one place left to go. The House of Wind stood tall and imposing above him, a reminder of where he belonged. If Feyre and Rhys still had a shred of belief in him, they were his last chance.

His thoughts scattered as a voice interrupted him. "I didn’t think you’d actually show up."

Lucien didn’t need to turn to recognize the voice. Cassian. His tone was neutral, but there was something simmering beneath it. It was as if Cassian, too, was weighing Lucien's worth in his mind.

"I gave my word," Lucien replied, keeping his eyes on the river. "And when I give my word, I keep it."

Cassian stepped closer, folding his arms as he stood beside him. “That’s what they say. But not everyone here believes that anymore.”

Lucien clenched his jaw. “Because of what happened with Tamlin?”

“Because of a lot of things.” Cassian’s hazel eyes flickered over him, sharp and assessing. “There’s a lot of history between you and this court. Some of it good. Some of it... less so.”

Lucien turned to meet his gaze, his copper eye gleaming in the fading light. “Do you think I betrayed them?”

Cassian’s stare was unreadable for a moment, but then he sighed. “It’s not about what I think. You know how this works, Lucien. Trust isn’t something that comes back easily once it’s broken.”

“And yet I never broke it.” Lucien’s voice was low, hard. “I did everything Feyre and Rhysand asked of me. I went back to the Spring Court, I dealt with Tamlin. I bled for this city—”

“And still, people question your loyalty,” Cassian cut him off, his tone quiet but firm. “Because they don’t know where you stand. You’ve got a foot in too many places. The Spring Court, the Autumn Court, now this... People don’t trust what they can’t define.”

Lucien’s shoulders tensed, the weight of his name—his reputation—pressing down like a vise. He had tried so hard to prove himself. But it seemed like no matter where he went, he was always the outsider.

“I don’t belong anywhere, do I?” Lucien said, his voice almost a whisper.

Cassian tilted his head, his eyes softening slightly. “That’s not true. You just haven’t decided where you belong yet.”

The words sank deep, but they didn’t soothe the ache in Lucien’s chest. He had been drifting for so long—between courts, between loyalties—that he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.

“I don’t want to be my father’s son,” Lucien muttered. “And I don’t want to be Tamlin’s shadow.”

Cassian nodded, leaning against the railing as he looked out over the Sidra. “Then stop letting them define you. Make your own name, Lucien. Build a reputation that’s yours.”

Lucien felt something stir within him at Cassian’s words. The truth of it. For too long, he had allowed others to write his story—to cast him in roles that didn’t fit. But he wasn’t Beron’s cruel heir, nor was he the lost emissary of the Spring Court. He was more than that.

And it was time the world saw it.

“What if it’s too late?” Lucien asked, though he already knew the answer.

Cassian smiled slightly, the first hint of warmth in his expression. “It’s never too late. But you’ve got to earn it. Reputation isn’t built in a day, and it’s not restored with just words. It’s action.”

Lucien’s hand curled into a fist at his side. He had done enough watching, enough playing the part others expected of him. Now, it was time to act.

He turned to Cassian, his golden-red eye gleaming with new resolve. “Then I suppose I have work to do.”

Cassian clapped him on the shoulder, a grin breaking through the tension. “Good. Because I have a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get soon.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Is that a recruitment pitch, General?”

“Maybe,” Cassian said, his grin widening. “Velaris could use someone with your... talents.”

Lucien let out a dry chuckle. "We'll see. But don’t think I’m just going to be a soldier at your beck and call.”

Cassian laughed, stepping away as he started back toward the House of Wind. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just try not to burn down anything before you’ve built your new reputation.”

Lucien watched him go, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Perhaps his reputation wasn’t set in stone. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could be more than what the world saw.

As the last light of day faded from the sky, Lucien took a deep breath and followed Cassian up the path. His past may have shaped him, but it didn’t have to define him.

From this moment on, he would decide what Lucien Vanserra stood for. And he would make sure the world knew it.

📜End📜

[bluestsdays]

devon can’t stop the memories that flood her mind as they stand here together, in a home that was once theirs. can’t help but remember how it felt to come home with him after a long night out, tired and far too drunk, his arms wrapped around her as their laughter bounced off the walls, stumbling to their room to help each other carefully peel their clothes off before sliding comfortably into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. or how they would make breakfast together on slow weekend mornings, drinking coffee in bed and spilling half of it on the sheets, or evenings spent listening to him read to her, staying up too late talking about anything and everything. maybe that’s why she couldn’t fathom leaving this place, despite his absence— so much good happened here. there was so much love embedded in these walls, in each creak of the floorboards, in every piece of furniture they picked out together. and now she could almost trick herself into believing they had gone back in time, that this was just another one of those nights, where she could just lead him to their bedroom, kissing all the way there, but it wasn’t. or at least, it shouldn’t be. despite how her lips tingle to kiss him again and again, she knows they’ve already crossed a line. but hearing him echo just how much he missed her, too, blurs it even further in her mind. that always happened with him, didn’t it ? he was the exception to every rule, the only person she would do absolutely anything for, if he asked, no matter the consequences. it’s intoxicating, being this close, kissing him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his body against her own one more time. even if he wasn’t technically hers anymore, god, was she so fucking lucky to have him at all. remains close as she smiles up at him, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “ feels real to me, too, ” she whispers, so real that it’s almost visceral— her senses were overrun, her brain filled only with thoughts of them and the life they once shared, her heart overwhelmed with love and care. and it’s enough, just being here with him like this, but she can’t ignore that desire for more, even though she’s desperately trying to shove it down, to remind herself that there had to be some sort of boundary, that there were two other people to think about. it’s hard, though, when he’s kissing her, or looking at her like that, or when he reaches down to intertwine their fingers together so easily. fuck. “ me too. i've almost called you so many times, ” it’s followed with a squeeze of his hand, then, as her nose nudges against his own, tempted to close the gap and kiss him again, but she tries to hold onto any shred of self control she has left, just for good measure. even then, she doesn’t pull away. “ do you want to ? talk, i mean, ” she breathes, voice coarse. “ because we can. we should, probably, ” the words are a little shakier, now, as her free hand slides up to rest against his chest, curling against the material of his shirt as she leans in closer, lips skating against his. “ because i… i’m afraid that if i keep kissing you, i won’t be able to stop, and i’ll do something really fucking stupid, that i know i shouldn’t but that i can’t help because it’s you. ” — “ does that make me a terrible person, you think ? ”

even when things were different between them, when things weren’t laced with uncertainty and misunderstanding, miller was never quite able to grasp the inexplainable connection they shared, the power she had over him. and if he couldn’t explain it then, he definitely can’t now, as he finds himself wrapped up in her, kissing her in the familiar way that he does, the outside world fading to a quiet blur, when they’re in each other’s embraces. despite its openness, the display of love itself, it’s an intimate act between them, as if they’re the only two in existence, right now. he doesn’t shy away from it, from her, like he has done with someone else; uncaring as to who witnesses such a grand public display of affection. the world moving around them slowly comes back, as they part, lips buzzing, heart racing, hands shaking. he tucks them away, as he follows her to the front door, as if he could quell that need, desire. not for anything further, but just to… do that again, and again. until they’ve both run out of air and they’re turning blue in the face. god, how has he ever gone so long without something like that? because it’s love, he understands now, that still circulates between them, bringing them together again and again— how could he be so stupid, to try and convince himself that he could survive without it? heart beats a steady pattern in his chest, echoing in the cage of his ribs, as she unlocks the door, taken back in time to when this was their normal routine. when he would stand behind her, distracting as always, lips pressed to her neck or shoulders, his laughter against her skin, fingers against her waist, her hip. despite how much he may want to do that, now, he forces himself to hold back, as if to not overstep, to maintain some resemblance of a boundary, after what they’d just shared outside. that all goes out the window once they’re past the threshold of the door, his arms wrapping around her waist once she’s back against him. “ missed you, ” he echos back. “ so fucking much. ” and it’s one of his most vulnerable confessions of all, thinking back to those nights he’s spent alone, thoughts drifting to her, to wishing that she could be here with him. he transmits that into the kiss they share, here, in the apartment they used to share— the walls whispering memories of laughter, of tears, of late night conversations, early morning goodbyes before they went about their day. it’s dirty coffee mugs in the sink, and books against the wall, paint splattered on the floorboards. it’s the two of them sharing a breath, a life, a home. and it’s still present, in the kiss they share, in the smile chiseled into his features as they part for air, a quiet chuckle departing his lips. “ no, well… i also wanted to see what you’ve done with the place, ” he teases, gaze of endearment, as he looks down at her, lips tingling for more. “ i hope this is real, though. that it isn’t a dream— it feels real to me, ” but then again, she always has. and he can’t accept the alternative; that he was halfway across the country, merely thinking of her, dreaming of her, of this, of the love that still clearly flowed between them, held them together. “ but, i… i don’t have any expectations, coming up here, you know? ” he wants to clarify. “ i mean, we can just talk, if you want, ” somehow, that feels like it exposes a lot, how it’s an absent piece of the puzzle in his life. disguising it with a soft chuckle, he allows his hand to find her own, intertwining their fingers. “ i’ve really missed talking to you. ”

[timethehobo]

Manfred when [fill in your own scenario].

[formulanni]

Parley!

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo

(Please lmk if u don’t want to be tagged in my non f1 art!)

[zehl0w]

Zenitsu agatsuma has got to be the biggest egg I have ever seen in my entire life

[moog-enthusiast]

flower & basil baking with granny

[mothsartart]

happy disability wrath month. this has been sitting in my head for weeks now, and i finally was able to do something with it

[lepeltge]

Hopefully this uploads with good quality bc this was a BEHEMOTH of a piece (mainly bc I made my file size too big lol). Anyways, here’s my rendition of @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere ‘s pirate/mer ateez au!!! I REALLY enjoyed their fic and highly suggest it!!

Admittedly, I got a bit carried away with this and have wayyyy too many pirate pictures saved to Pinterest and my phone, but alas! I will never escape my love for historical clothing (with some anachronisms for aesthetics of course).

I thought way too long about colors and outfits, but it just goes to show you how in depth N’s writing is (thanks for the extra answered questions)! I kept on finding myself having so much fun thinking about the why behind the outfits lol.

Lastly, this is my first fanart in a while, and moreso, my first fanart of Ateez ever!!! I tried to do them justice but if you can’t tell who’s who, well… my bad 😅 Hope y’all enjoy bc I know I sure did!!

[masamuneskitchen]

He couldn’t forget even a moment he had spent with her. She was breathtaking and wild and so much of everything that he wanted.

“The one where we talked until the sun came up? Yeah, I remember. Hideyoshi was absolutely certain I’d lured you into my clutches but he couldn’t find us to put a stop to my wiley ways.” He chuckles.

“Aru… don’t apologize to me please? I don’t see how I would have done anything differently were I in your shoes.”

“I underestimated how Shingen would react to “us.” I thought his happiness would make him happy for your your happiness. I should have left telling him in your hands alone. I’m the one who should apologize.”

He listened carefully as she struggled to put their relationship into words. He finally leaned next to her and took her hand. When she was quiet he said, “Can’t we play around… and still be in love? Can’t we be irresponsible… and yet still be serious about each other?”

“I’m in love with you Arundhati. I’m serious about you. Still I know things are complicated for you. Accepting that is part of being with you. Just like accepting that I might lose my head in the next battle is part of being with me.”

“I also realize that I don’t know everything about you. Which I’m okay discovering new and different parts of you. Emotionally as well as physically.” He teased bumping his shoulder against hers.

“So let’s keep playing? Hmm? While we figure this out together?”

He sighed, “but we may want to figure out how to smooth things over with big daddy Shingen though. My intention was not to start a war with the Takeda.”

————

Akira shakes her head slowly. Not sure how else to convince Shingen of the kind of danger she was putting the Takeda in just by being here.

Masamune hadn’t believed her either. Not for a very long time. Who could really believe the monstrous story that was her life while serving Iga unless they witnessed her work? But then… the monster always made sure there were no witnesses.

Perhaps she didn’t need Shingen to believe her. What she needed was to protect him. To protect the Takeda.

“Shingen, it is my professional opinion as a ninja that I failed you tonight. Nearly drawing down on an ally in the middle of a personal discussion was not safe. I would like to request that you relieve me from my work as a mitsumono, please? Until I come to terms with what really happened tonight.”

Maybe it would be enough to let him know she was serious about this? Even if he didn’t discover the depth of her fear.

“The beast is still you,” he had said. If that was true then the woman he knew was just the shell of what she wanted to be. And the beast was who she truly was. She knew both could not exist at the same time… and she was afraid that Shingen’s theory was more true than she wanted to believe.

He had described her as a brilliant person. But was she even worthy of Shingen’s light? She doubted it.

Masamune shows up for the evening meal. He finds plenty of skeptical expressions when the one-eyed dragon waltzed in to Kai. But assuring them he was simply looking for a ninja named Akira seemed to sooth them a little.

It was a little unexpected, however, to find Akira sitting next to Lord Shingen Takeda himself. It really wasn’t very ninja-like behavior. And neither was her red faced reaction when she noticed he entered the room.

@masamuneskitchen

Shingen’s eyes narrow was the one-eyes dragon of Oshu stepped into the hall where dinner for the Takeda forces had been arranged. His arm instantly tightened around Akira.

Curious about why the man was here and eager to cut to the chase, he called out.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Date Masamune?”

[seagull-scribbles]

By unpopular demand, 💕 Val

[satindregs]

Merlin s05e13 spoilers

“But here’s what no one says—when it’s your child, a part of you, a very tiny but nonetheless unignorable part of you, also feels relief. Because finally, the moment you have been expecting, been dreading, been preparing yourself for since the day you became a parent, has come.

Ah, you tell yourself, it’s arrived. Here it is.

And after that, you have nothing to fear again.”

So that quote is from Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life. It’s kinda self-explanatory, but I left out some context soo…

A father is talking abt mourning a kid and when they die you feel some relief bc the day you’ve dreaded since before they were born has finally come and it isn’t gonna happen twice (to the same kid lol.)

Now that we’re all on the same page, I just wanna mention something.

Merthur.

All throughout the show Merlin is told time and time again what he’s destined to do and how they’re counting on him to keep Arthur’s little butt on the throne and bring magic back to the land. Then surprise, surprise, the Once and Future King dies.

And yk obviously Merlin is… distraught. but do yall think j a tiny, tiny part of him just… relaxed?

Ik u have to make some jumps for this hc (?? ig?) to work but this is my post and i’ll do what i want. also ya they’re not father and son so… get to jumping

[periwenkle]

Save me MizuMafu save me

I <3 when pink/purple ships who understand each other’s issues a bit too perfectly share the same motif with different meanings

This was a gift for a friend and I couldn’t be prouder tbh

Process + dresses under the cut

Without effects + lineart only (because I’m rly proud of how it turned out tbh)

Sketch

And the dresses :]