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princesssarisa · 2 years ago

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Character ask: Hades and Persephone

I'll give my answers for the mythical characters, and in Hades' case, for Disney's Hercules. I'm not familiar with Hadestown despite it's popularity, so I have nothing to say about those versions of Hades and Persephone, or any other modern reimaginings.

Hades

Favorite thing about them: In classical mythology, I like the fact that, while stern and grim, he's a just god and not cruel, and has fewer stories of petty or sadistic deeds attached to him than most of the other gods and goddesses. It's too bad that modern Western culture tends to conflate him with the Christian Satan and portray him as the token evil god, because to the Greeks he wasn't.

In Disney's Hercules, even though he's a classic example of a demonized, Satan-conflated Hades, he's still one of the best Disney villains: a funny one with a witty "used car salesman" personality, yet imposing when he needs to be, and easy to "love to hate."

Least favorite thing about them: In mythology, the kidnapping of Persephone. In Disney's Hercules, the fact that he's a villain who tries to kill Hercules, imprison the other gods and goddesses, and take over Olympus.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I have dark hair, as he's traditionally described.

*I don't leave my home very often.

*Like Disney's Hades, I have a temper. (Though I don't literally blaze with fire.)

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm female.

*I'm not a deity of the Underworld.

*I would never kidnap anyone.

Favorite line:

From The Homeric Hymn to Demeter:

"Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart towards me: be not so exceedingly cast down; for I shall be no unfitting husband for you among the deathless gods, that am own brother to father Zeus. And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore."

From Disney's Hercules:

"So is this an audience or a mosaic?"

"Memo to me: maim you after my meeting,"

"I've got twenty-four hours to get rid of this bozo, or the entire scheme I've been setting up for eighteen years goes up in smoke, and you are wearing his merchandise!!!"

"We dance, we kiss, we schmooze, we carry on, we go home happy. What do you say? Come on."

brOTP: His divine brothers and sisters, when they're not pitted against each other.

OTP: Persephone, in the versions of the myth where their marriage is ultimately happy.

nOTP: In Disney's Hercules, Meg. In mythology, well... I hope no one ever ships him with Cerberus!

Random headcanon: For Disney's Hercules: Even though the ending implies that he'll be trapped in the depths of the River Styx forever, I think he'll eventually get out. He can't drown, after all, he's immortal, and even if it takes him a few centuries, he'll eventually get out and cause trouble again. But he'll always be defeated in the end.

Unpopular opinion: While I agree that it's unfair to constantly demonize him, I also think it's fair to portray him as the antagonist of the Persephone myth and not romanticize her kidnapping. That said, I don't think retellings that romanticize their marriage are inherently bad and problematic either – it all depends on how the story is told. But either way, I do think it's high time that mythology adaptations stop portraying him as the single dark, cruel god in contrast to the benevolent, shining Olympians. That's distorting the myths through a Christian lens. Zeus and most of the other Olympians also chased and kidnapped unwilling love interests, and did many even worse deeds too. They're all morally gray.

Song I associate with them: None in particular.

Favorite picture of them:

These ancient statues:

This Italian statue from 1588:

Gian Lorenzo Bernini's statue The Abduction of Proserpina, from the 1620s:

And in a drastic change from the elegance above, these pictures from Disney's Hercules:

Persephone

Favorite thing about them: Her status as a nature goddess who embodies the changing seasons makes her a fascinating character. Not only does she split her time between the upper world and the Underworld, but as a result she has a dual personality – the gentle, sunny goddess of spring, and the stern, feared queen of the dead – which makes her unique among the Greek deities.

Least favorite thing about them: The fact that in some versions of the story of Minthe (the nymph who became the first mint plant after her death), she brutally kills the poor nymph out of jealousy of Hades' affair with her. Fortunately, not all versions of the myth go this way – in another version, it's Demeter who kills Minthe for boasting that she's more beautiful than Persephone.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I have both a light side and a dark side.

*I'm close to my mother.

*I like pomegranates.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not married.

*I've never been kidnapped.

*I'm not a goddess.

Favorite line:

Her account of her kidnapping from The Homeric Hymn to Demeter:

"We were playing and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy; but the earth parted beneath, and there the strong lord, the Host of Many, sprang forth and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all unwilling, beneath the earth: then I cried with a shrill cry. All this is true, sore though it grieves me to tell the tale."

brOTP: Her mother Demeter (in traditional versions of the myth where they have a warm, loving bond, not the versions where Demeter is controlling and Persephone is glad to escape from her), and the nymphs with whom she plays and picks flowers just before Hades kidnaps her.

OTP: Hades, in the versions of the myth where their marriage is ultimately happy.

nOTP: Her father Zeus. Brother/sister incest and uncle/niece or aunt/nephew incest might be normal for Greek gods and goddesses, but not parental incest!

Random headcanon: This isn't a headcanon so much as "which of the different versions of her myth I like best." I prefer the Homeric Hymn to Demeter's claim that Persephone spends just four months each year with Hades, and eight months with Demeter, to Ovid's claim that she spends six months with each. In versions where she's happily married to Hades, then I can accept the equal time split, but if we take the traditional view that she was kidnapped and married against her will, then I prefer for her to spend most of the year on earth and only a small amount of time in the Underworld. Besides, in my experience at least (though I know climates vary), autumn is a pleasant time, with comfortable weather and with so many fruits and vegetables at their best. It makes more sense to me that Persephone should still be with Demeter then.

Unpopular opinion: I'm open to different interpretations of her story. There's no such thing as "one true meaning" of any myth. I can accept versions where Hades is sympathetic, where Persephone falls truly in love with him (whether she starts out as his prisoner but then is slowly drawn to to him, a la Beauty and the Beast, or whether she goes with him willingly from the start), where she comes into her own power as his queen, and where she willingly eats the pomegranate seeds, knowing full well that they'll bind her to Hades, because she wants to stay. I see the appeal of taking Persephone's traditional story of helpless victimhood and making it empowering instead – which is valid, because she's always portrayed as a powerful queen in the myths of the Underworld set after her marriage. I see the appeal of not demonizing Hades either, and of telling a romantic love story rather than a story of a miserable forced marriage. But I also see the value of versions where Hades is the villain, where Persephone is brutally kidnapped and just as unhappy in the Underworld as Demeter is on earth without her daughter, where she's either forced to eat the pomegranate seeds or naïvely eats them without knowing what the result will be, and where the ending is bittersweet, as she divides each year between happy months with her mother and sad months in the Underworld. It is valid to read the myth as an allegory for the pain of a mother and daughter separated by the daughter's loveless arranged marriage, and/or for a young girl's death and her mother's grief. Myths can be retold in many ways, with many possible meanings. I'm open to them all.

Song I associate with them: None in particular.

Favorite picture of them:

This ancient statue:

Bernini's statue:

Dante Gabriel Rosetti's 1874 painting:

Frederic Leighton's painting The Return of Persephone, 1891:

From Disney's Silly Symphony The Goddess of Spring, 1934 (her movements are sometimes laughable, but her character design itself is pretty):

And from D'Aulaures' Book of Greek Myths:

#character ask #greek mythology #hades #persephone #ask game #fictional characters

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heyyyharry · 4 years ago

Text

Double Date

(a blurb from the Flatmate series)

…in which “I don’t want whoever I end up dating to feel second to you.”

Word count: 2.4k

This is inspired by the song ’gold rush’ from Taylor’s new album ‘evermore’. This song reminds me so much of the flatmate babiesssss.

Harry didn’t believe in his own ears.

His flatmate?

Going on a date?

No way.

But why would she lie about that? And he knew she hadn’t made that shit up, because the guy existed, and Harry had spoken to him and seen Y/N have a conversation with him several times before. However, never would Harry have thought that the two of them would go on a date. He couldn’t even imagine them holding hands. It was just bizarre. Also, Y/N never went out, and she hated people. Did she know that ‘dating’ required being around a person all the time? It would never work.

“You’re going on a date?” Harry asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

“No,” she answered flatly.

“Okay, then can I come with?”

“No!” cried Y/N as she shoved him aside to get to the fridge.

Harry huffed like an angry child as he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “If he’s just a friend, why can’t I come with you?”

“Because it’d be weird! You don’t know my friend.”

“Not true. I had two classes with him last semester.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

Harry’s mouth froze as he opened it and realised he didn’t know the answer. Y/N shut the fridge door and started drinking her milk slowly with an eyebrow raised, waiting for the answer that he didn’t have.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. “Who the fuck cares what his name is? It’s shady that you don’t want me to hang out with him.”

“He didn’t invite you.”

“But he wouldn’t mind if you did because we’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t comment and just brushed right past him. Harry knew it was her way of ending the conversation, so he hurriedly followed her out of the kitchen. She flopped down onto the couch and he came to sit beside her. She grabbed the remote to turn the telly on. He snatched it away, forcing her to stay in the conversation. He wasn’t going to let this end so easily. His need to win all the time was his most toxic trait, according to Layla. But oh well, nobody’s perfect. He had to have at least one flaw.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” Y/N scrunched up her face and reached for the remote. Harry immediately sat on it. “Hey!”

He ignored her reaction. “Then why don’t you want me to go with you and your ‘friend’ to this concert?”

“It’s not a concert. It’s an acoustic night at a cafe.”

“I still wanna go.”

“You’re annoying.” Y/N aggressively hugged a pillow to her chest and turned away from him.

Harry felt guilty. He might have said too much. If he was aware of him being annoying, it must be worse for her. And he never wished to upset her. He just didn’t want her to go on this ‘not really a date’ date.

“What if I bring someone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N glared at him. “Like...a girl?”

“Or Niall.” He shrugged. “Depends.”

He expected her to be jealous or at least showed that she was jealous. To his disappointment, she gave a nonchalant shrug and said, “Okay.”

“Okay I can go if I bring someone?”

“Sure, then you’ll have someone else to annoy.”

Harry chuckled as he looked at her while she looked somewhere else. “You could be so mean sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a smirk. “Thank you.”

AJ. That was Y/N’s date’s name.

Why would anyone want to name their child AJ? It was like his parents didn’t even try. Harry hated to be an arsehole. Well, not really. But yeah, he fucking hated this dude.

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” Layla mumbled and shot Harry a glare as they followed AJ and Y/N to their table.

“It’d be embarrassing if I’d gone with Niall,” Harry whispered to Layla as they took their seats facing the other two, who were too caught up in their conversation to pay attention to all this shady whispering.

“Just pick another one from your long list of hoes,” Layla said.

“Well, I don’t want to make anyone think I’m taking them on a date.” He flashed her a smile. “So I picked you.”

Layla rolled her eyes and picked up the menu. “Wait. They don’t have anything with alcohol?” she asked aloud.

“Try this vanilla drink. So you wouldn’t be so fucking bitter all the time.”

Layla smacked Harry on the arm for his comment. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Y/N holding back a laugh by biting her lip. If only she knew how cute she looked tonight wearing that babydoll dress and her hair up in a ponytail. He wanted to tell her, but it’d be weird, wouldn’t it? They never complimented each other. And knowing how anxious he’d get, he’d probably say some dumb shit like comparing her to a ghost or something.

“The drinks aren’t the best,” AJ said after the waiter had left with their orders. “But the music is great. My favourite band is playing tonight.”

“Oh, what’s the band’s name?” Y/N asked.

“The Muse.”

“Never heard of them,” Harry said nonchalantly and received a glare from Y/N. He gave her a subtle shrug.

“Well, they’re a small band. But they’re great,” AJ said, smiling.

Layla tapped Harry on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper to him, “He’s handsome and respectful. You don’t stand a chance.”

“You don’t think I’m handsome and respectful?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Layla scoffed. “Handsome, yes. But you’re a hoe.”

Harry was so used to Layla’s sense of humour, he didn’t find these comments offensive at all, just funny, and kinda true. He was far from a saint. “Is that coming from a certified hoe?” he jokingly asked.

Layla smirked and pushed his face away. “Shut the fuck up.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. When he looked up, he caught Y/N staring. She turned away as quickly as she could but was unable to hide her blushing. Had she been checking him out? He wasn’t complaining. It was flattering, to say the least. With her date sitting right there.

“Stop.”

He flinched and turned back to Layla. “What?”

“Stop looking at AJ like he murdered your cat. You’re being embarrassing right now.”

“We’re not actually on a date, Layla.”

“I know.” Layla sighed. “That’s why I’m tolerating you.”

Their drinks were served just in time the opening act - a lady singing Taylor Swift songs - ended, and the main act arrived. Four men stepped on the stage and started setting up their instruments. The main singer introduced themselves as The Muse, and the first song they were going to sing had some weird symbolistic name that Harry forgot as soon as he’d heard it. He was too busy watching Y/N. AJ whispered something into her ear, making her giggle and Harry’s blood boil.

He was most familiar with that laugh. He’d made her laugh like that all the time. Well, yes, it was kinda weird to be gatekeeping someone’s laugh. But the fact that Y/N found this boring bloke funny made Harry’s skin crawl.

Suddenly, Harry caught Layla’s warning stare, so he swallowed his jealousy and took a sip of his coffee, which had already got cold.

The Muse sang two or three songs in a row and interacted with the audience in between little breaks. Meanwhile, AJ entertained Harry, Y/N, and Layla with his boring stories about his academic achievements. Also, he kept bragging about him being able to cook. We get it, Ratatouille, Harry thought. Go open a restaurant in Paris or something!

What Harry found more annoying than this guy having all the qualities a woman would look for in her future husband, was the fact that Y/N was completely infatuated. If she was just being nice, she should win an Oscar for Best Actress.

“Question,” Layla whispered to Harry when AJ and Y/N were lost in their own world again. “Will I be your plus one to their wedding?”

“Shut up,” he scoffed.

Layla shrugged. “I hear wedding bells ringing. Don’t you?”

Fuck bells. Fuck weddings. Fuck AJ. Fuck Layla. Harry wanted to say fuck Y/N, too. But he had a crush on her so he couldn’t hate her. Fuck this whole place. Fuck everyone except for his Y/N.

“Would any of you like to come on stage and perform with us?” asked the lead singer of The Muse.

“Ooooh, this is my favourite part!” AJ said, his green eyes twinkling.

Fuck this dude, Harry thought bitterly, for being handsome.

“You’re gonna sing?” Y/N asked AJ.

“Nah, I suck at singing,” AJ said. “I play the drums, though.”

“I bet you do,” Harry muttered, but it seemed like everyone had heard him. He responded to Y/N’s questioning look with an awkward grin.

“What about you, Harry?” Layla suggested, obviously wanting to start some shit as always. “Would you like to sing?”

“Harry can’t sing,” Y/N said quickly.

Harry blinked at her in surprise. “Hey, I can sing. It’s just I don’t want to.”

“Oh, it’d be fun.”

“No, thank you, AJ,” Harry said between gritted teeth.

AJ looked quite offended. Fortunately, Layla came for the rescue. “I’ll do it,” she shouted with her hand raised. Everyone broke into applause as she got up and made her way to the stage.

“Can she sing?” Y/N asked Harry.

He sighed and lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “We could only hope.”

Layla strutted up the steps and waved at Harry, Y/N, and AJ. Suddenly, her heel was caught by a wire, and she tripped, falling headfirst into the lead singer. She knocked them both right off the stage against one of the tables and had the drinks spilt all over them.

Harry was frozen in shock until Layla’s cries snapped him out of it and sent him to his feet as he rushed up to help her.

“You got drunk on vanilla?” Harry asked while trying his best not to laugh at Layla being covered in strawberry smoothies.

“Shut the fuck up!” she cried. “I wanna go home!”

“Is she okay?” Y/N asked.

“No, bitch. Do I look okay to you?!”

“I’ll take her home,” Harry said, helping Layla up and receiving angry looks from the other band members, who were checking up on their friend. The lead singer didn’t break any bones. Thank God. Sighing, Harry turned back to Y/N and AJ. “You two...stay. Carry on with your date. Don’t worry about us.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but AJ didn’t let her. “No, we can’t just stay when Layla’s hurt,” he said, eyeing Layla up and down in concern. “You live in the dorm, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So do I. I’ll take you home.” To Y/N, AJ said, “I’m sorry, Y/N. Next time?”

Y/N pressed her lips into a smile. “Sure. Drive safe, all right?”

“He seems nice,” Harry said as he walked home with Y/N. She’d been so quiet since they’d left the cafe, he was afraid she was mad at him or something.

She gave a nod. To his surprise, she said, “I’m sorry about Layla.”

He gave a dismissive wave. “She’ll be fine. That was probably karma for pushing Liam off the stairs.”

Y/N looked horrified. “On purpose?”

Harry shrugged. “We don’t know. Possibly. I mean, it’s Layla.”

They both laughed together and suddenly went quiet.

“I’m kind of mad at you, though,” Y/N said after another moment.

“Why?” Harry chuckled.

“You shouldn’t have asked to come with us.”

“You said I could if I brought someone.”

“Yes, I didn’t think you’d bring Layla,” she said and rolled her eyes. “Are you two like...hooking up?”

“Ew no, she’s like a sister to me. An awful one.” He laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “Why? Are you jealous?”

She glared at him. “No. But you two are both attractive. It’s weird that you don’t find each other attractive.”

“You think I’m attractive?” Harry smirked, loving how quickly her face turned red.

“I mean, conventionally attractive.” She cleared her throat, refusing to look at him as they spoke. “Your hair’s always so nice. It falls into place like...dominoes…”

“Dominoes?” Harry chuckled. “Aww, someone’s flustered. Just say you have a crush on me.”

“No,” Y/N said timidly, as if she was unsure. “But...you should stop teasing me like this.”

“Why? It’s fun. I like teasing you.”

“People would think I have a crush on you for real.”

Harry maintained his nonchalant expression, but the butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. “You don’t?” he asked with mock surprise. “And what’s wrong with people thinking you have a crush on me? Everyone has a crush on me.”

That was meant to be a joke. Harry didn’t expect a serious answer from Y/N.

“I don’t want whoever I end up dating to feel like they’re second to you. Because sometimes I–” Her mouth clamped shut. She squeezed the strap of her handbag and walked a bit further away from him.

Harry found it amusing. “You what?”

“No.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say something and never finish it.”

Y/N gave him a glance, biting her lip. “Sometimes I feel like...I care about you too much. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Why’s caring about me makes you uncomfortable?” He smiled, unable to hold it anymore.

She said nothing and only walked faster to get ahead of him. Harry sped up and fell into steps beside her again as he cleared his throat into his fist. “Just so you know,” he said slowly. “I care about you a lot, too. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t look at him, but he could see her cheeks turning red. He loved it. Her shyness when she was around him made his heart swell. Maybe that was why he enjoyed teasing her. He wanted proof that he could make her feel something, no matter how insignificant it was.

“Okay,” was all she said.

It made him laugh. “You’re being mean.”

“Only to you,” she replied.

“Good,” he said, hoping she’d heard him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #flatmate!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #flatmate series

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 4 years ago

Text

A god's key to victory | Fyodor x Reader |

I got this idea whilst talking with another Fyodor simp. May mercy be spared on me for this piece.

A god's key to victory | Fyodor x reality-warping reader |

Disclaimers/ Warnings: Definitely a ton of mental manipulation. Obsessive themes. Depictions of abuse, controlling actions, violence, dystopia.

The moon shone elegantly, glimmering through the glass pane of your room. Off in the distance, there was life. Outside the glimmering stone walls of this cell-like room. The golden ring on your finger brought nothing but torment. At one point this choice had been easy. He’d finally broken you into submission. Even as the world submitted to his views, there lay a single person who could undo everything. If he touched you with a single finger, all of this would be gone. Fyodor had no room for the human emotion of love. Even though he did love you in his twisted way. He gave you everything, from jewels to fine silks. He teaches you his language and lets you see his rare moments of compassion.

This world was perfect, yet here you were broken. When had it happened? When had he stripped you of your free will? Your joy? Your liveliness? The smile he had no explanation for loving? The fight that made him fall evermore for you? He was a god now, a true god who dictated the crime and the punishment of this city. That had been it, hadn't it? The moment you used your ability so widely. The day he stripped this world of its filth. The day you became the goddess by his side. He had strained you too far. You seemed so numb now. Yet, it didn’t stop him from holding you on his lap and leaving pecks around your neck. You were all he needed in this world. If somebody touched you, he'd simply kill them. There were moments where your light returned, moments where he saw that glimmer of fight and joy.

It had started years ago, when you were naive and worked alongside the scum of this world. He’d met you in a cafe. He found the meeting rather... cliche. You had to work multiple jobs to pay for your place and support your life. He’d watched the way you avoided eye-contact with others. The way you so easily switched between personalities dependent on whom you were serving. You read through people so easily it was interesting to him. Nobody else seemed to notice that it wasn’t the real you. When you get to his table your eyes fell cold and distant. He had given you a mere smirk. You only needed one look to know how to warp his view. Your ability allowed you to push what you wanted onto anybody else. It warped the very fabric of the space you were around. He understood that within moments. He was after all a highly intelligent man.

When you begin to act smug and cold just how he was, he could only chuckle. You amused him. That alone was a dangerous feat; Gaining the interest of a man who thought of himself as a god. From then on he became a regular. He memorized what days you worked and the time. He’d sit there until your shift ended. With each of those passing days, he would find a way to talk to you. He observed the way you acted. Your eyes were the giveaway to it all. To almost everybody, you could pass for anybody. Yet, when he looked into your eyes, he found the light of a scared and naive child. He found it a fun game to change what he wanted each day. The confusion that passed your face, even if it only lasted a tenth of a second, filled his pride. You stumbled over what facade to act on.

It took a month for him to completely figure you out. When that happened you were doomed. He would begin his manipulation. He wanted you on his side. The things your ability could do for him were too enticing to pass up. He whispered soft words filled with false emotions. At least, that was what he called them at first. He never admitted it to himself, and so that’s what it was. It was all just a facade to gain your trust and snatch you away. To him, you were not a sinner like the others. You were something pure and unaware of the world's terror.

When he found you worked with the very agency that continued to stunt his plans, he became agitated. It was a minor setback. The one person he knows rivals his intelligence sat among that agency. His name was Dazai and to his luck, the two of you seemed rather… close. He would joke around with you a lot. That pink tint he had grown accustomed to forcing onto your cheeks would pass at his words. It grew an emotion he hated. This emotion wanted you for himself.

So, the next time he saw you, he began to ask you about your views on this world. Just as he had predicted you were nothing but innocent. You never noticed how you showed the real version of yourself to him. Laughing after work hours. He had started as a stranger, but now you trusted him enough to go drinking. You held up a glass with a rather bright smile. Still, unaware of his complex. He’d watch you drink and memorize your reactions to every little movement he made. “What do you think about the world?” he would need this sliver of information before he began his little game of cat and mouse. How far would he have to change your views to align with his?

��My views? Huh, I guess I haven't thought about it before.” you would laugh looking over to him. It was the first time you made real eye-contact. It felt so warm despite how cold his eyes looked. It sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It shouted he was dangerous, yet you didn’t look away and continued to answer him. “I guess, I see the world as a scale. A world with evil and good? I think as the world is now. The scale is tipped in the darkness.” Fyodor would nod as if he were agreeing with you. Even if he didn’t, he wanted to make you feel safe and comfortable in his arms.

People are easier to control when they trust the person who is trying to gain control. If you opened up, he could sway and twist your own words to fit his own needs. “Then what is your ideal world?” he would often ask this question.

You would think for a moment before smiling with a hopeful glint in your eyes. “A world without suffering and pain! A world that’s just a bit less violent. It would be even on the scale. Enough evil to keep order but enough good to keep the peace. Things like the seven sins would be needed but, things like violence would be less frequent. People would feel safe walking in the night. Murders would be 1 in a million of chance. I want a peaceful world.” you would answer him honestly, and he’d hide his smirk. It would be so easy to twist your thoughts. The Armed Detective Agency stood in his way though. You believed being there would help the world; Even though that agency was filled with vile scum.

He’d begun to show you the truth, his truth. At first, he’d only suggest it. The suggestion that this violence was brought on by ability users. At first, you'd stick your tongue out and point out how you were one. When he made the assumption it was too early to begin that part of his mind game, he set his sights on bringing you closer. He wanted a step up from friends. He wanted to be able to touch you. So he slowly began to make his role in your life more prominent. “Your work, do you have a thing for anybody?” he would not be subtle with this.

When you told him you appreciate your friends there but, found you could never really love them because nobody else knew this you. He had thought you acted like this around your co-workers. Dazai could see through your ability, but it appeared that was not enough. You didn’t need an ability to pretend. That pulled his interest more. By now there was no going back. He had you in his grasp, and he would never let you go. “I don’t like anybody in that way.” when those words left your lips he would wrap his arms around you and lift your chin with a smug smirk. He’d let go immediately to watch your confusion. He would leave the bar to make sure that the moment kept its hold on you.

Just as he predicted you were distracted at work. And within the next two months, you began to trust him. Your co-workers knew nothing about this man. He had asked you to keep him from people he didn’t know. He lied about what he did for a living. He told you his work involved the government and telling anybody you knew him put himself and you in danger. So you were vague when your friends called you out on daydreaming or letting your attention drift. They asked, but you shrugged it off. When it got too much you simply came out with it. “I think I fell in love.” These words shocked even yourself. The faces of your coworkers were distant as you smiled to yourself.

He would only smirk, waiting for you that night at the bar, as if he knew nothing. He’d tease you. His body growing too close for comfort. He’d wrap strands of your hair in his fingers. Whisper little things that made you question yourself and your relationship with him. It took two months before he noticed even the smallest eye-contact would turn your face into that beautiful shade of rose. He’d lean down and finally give you what you had been wishing for. A soft peck on the lips. When you squealed in response he would snicker. “Something wrong, little mouse?” he would ask you the question waiting for your reaction. When you grew more embarrassed and attempted to hide your face, his dominance slipped from the facade he had been using around you. The glow of his eyes shaking you to your core. “It’s only natural to be so… adoring over a god.” That was the first time you had heard Fyodor call himself a god. If he did that in the start you'd have completely tossed him aside. Yet it was hypnotizing now that you had already fallen into his grasps. He always got what he wanted. Right now that was you and your ability.

The next step began in hints and murmurs. He would bring up your ideal world and put the question into your head. “What do you think makes that scale tip into evil?” when you respond with violence he’d nod and act like he was thinking. He was tricking you with terrifying ease. “This violence? Who causes it?” you would tilt your head before the answer peeked in. The one time he had mentioned abilities being at fault consuming your reason. You would argue in your mind until the answer you normally went for came to you.

“Violence is made from suffering.” you would smile and shift in your seat. You never initiated contact with him. You were too nervous too. He would hold back his agitation and nod understandingly. His hand cupping your chin to pull you to his lips. He was always rough with you; He knew how it affected you.

You kept it a secret from the agency for a while. Dazai eventually figured it out and asked if you were seeing somebody. You had only nodded and walked out to leave for the night.

It took a handful of weeks, but he did crack your mind eventually. It took some nudges, but he got you to start taking in his views. He would run a thumb over your hand and whisper things about the mafia. Like how if they didn’t have the powerful ability users they had, the crimes they committed would be punished. It would drive you to rethink your views. “So without abilities violence would be less? No, violence would be punished easier? That would lead to a decrease in crime from fear of being caught.” you would mumble your thoughts aloud unknowingly. He got pleasure from seeing you drift towards what he believed.

The next obstacle came ripping you from your current living style. You hadn’t noticed how your every free hour was spent by him. He did his work with you so sneakily, you didn’t see how you no longer had control of your life. He could get you to stay from work with a simple strand of words. He pulled you to his home one night. It was rather large compared to what you had thought. He began to show you sides of himself you haven't noticed. The sides that would have repulsed you now dragged you into him. Once you made a permanent residence in his home he began to talk about his views. You took them in and listened. Your chats were normally short. You took care of him. He smirked at how your dependence on him began to grow. You came home exhausted, and he’d plant you on his lap. His hand massaging your tired muscles.

He had to work rather hard to get you to leave the agency, but it happened. Now that you viewed ability users in the same light he did, all he had to do was show you the darker sides of your friends. Dazai’s past seemed to shatter you. You were betrayed and hurt. Fyodor did not waste a moment, he rebuilt your shattered heart around himself. He whispered how you only needed him and nobody else. You fell, trapped in that web.

At some point, you began to see him as your savior. He was the only person you trusted and didn't feel revolted by. You had stopped interacting with the outside world. There were times when you got annoyed with him and would scold him for forgetting to take meds, or stay warm. You found yourself smiling and laughing at his side. He showed you his co-workers eventually. When he had to go on trips he made sure they kept an eye on you. You could always call him if you felt down without him.

A year into this he made the move to make you permanently his. A ring on your finger. Something that made you smile with joy whenever you looked down at it. He began calling you his goddess from then on. You felt like you meant something to this world. For the first time, you were yourself without any insecurities.

He would never admit it, but that smile sent an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. He never laid a hand on you, but his words did enough. He so easily controlled you. If you displeased him he only needed to ignore you or give you a stern and cold glare. Those actions would have you on your knees, tears falling, and pleas for forgiveness leaving your lips. You never noticed how abusive this was. It may not be physically abusive, but this thing you had with your husband was most definitely mental abuse. Yet, you turned a blind eye. You never noticed. You were so starved for his love. You did anything for him.

So, when the fateful day came you pushed yourself just to achieve that perfect world. You were the key to his ascension. The key to a perfect world. The people who you once called friends came into your home threatening to take away the life that made you happy. They called you a traitor, yet Dazai took pity on how easily you had been manipulated. He could have prevented this had he seen through you. It was too late now and you’d need to be in rehab once they caught Fyodor. When those sounds reached your ears you could only panic.

Your heart raced as you ran to Fyodor. You clung onto him like a life-line. When they saw this everybody shook their heads in a clear disappointment. With riffles targeting you, Fyodor could only smirk. He looked down at you, leaning down, he kissed your cheek and whispered. “Warp this city to paradise. Can you do that for me, my little goddess?” he spoke with a false softness in his voice.

You looked to Dazai with fear, but when you blinked he saw no difference. The aim lights that had been on you and your husband shifted onto the agency. You had used your ability. Dazai knew he had to touch you to fix this. Fyodor also knew that so, he placed you behind him. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he merely smirked. “How do you plan to get over here Dazai?” he taunted before warning shots echoed and the agency members dropped to their knees. “We win.” he gave a final kick to dazai’s face. When they were cuffed and pulled away, Fyodor finally turned back to you.

You shook with fear and confusion, but the moment he wrapped you in his arms you were safe. You held onto him snuggling into his chest.

It took you two days to completely envelope Yokohama in your ability. Anybody who entered would fall victim. When you were done you fell, exhausted.

Even as the realization of what you had done enveloped you, there was no reaction. Fyodor found it upsetting at times. You were numb so often yet, in those fleeting moments where life poked in, he adored it.

This world looked perfect even though it was far from it. If anything this paradise you had made was a nightmare. There was peace and comfort; People were safe and pure. The only true evil that balanced the good of this scale were Fyodor, the demon, and his fallen angel; The god and goddess of this new paradise. He had most of the ability users wiped out, but the few who had held positions before your ability was used were kept alive.

“Look at our world, isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, whilst holding you on his lap. You merely nodded a soft, joyful glimmer appearing in your eyes before it left, just as suddenly as it appeared.

“I love you.” you would whisper the words, hoping to hear it back from his lips.

This once he thought, he’d say it just this once. “I love you too, my little mouse turned goddess.” that brought a smile to your lips. A real smile, one he hadn’t seen in ages.

#fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bsd fyodor #x reader #angst

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professionalfangirl24601 · 3 years ago

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I know not everything has to have a deep meaning or a reason behind it, but I was wondering why Andrew hated Exy when Neil and Kevin were obsessed with it so much.

At first, I didn't get why they loved it so much. I thought since Neil, Kevin, and Riko were all ridiculously obsessed with it and they had played together at Evermore, the reasons for it must have been the same thing. Like Tetsuji used magic or something lol. I realize now that although some aspects of why Kevin and Neil had latched onto it and how they used it are pretty similar, they are two different cases.

CW: mentions of Drake and self harm

Ok, here's Neil's explanation of his love for exy: "This is how I stay alive. When I'm playing, I feel like I have control over something. I feel like I have the power to change things. I feel more real out there than I do anywhere else. The court doesn't care what my name is or where I'm from or where I'll be tomorrow. It lets me exist as I am."

He also said that the only times he had seen his mother smile was when she was watching him play in little league games.

He could survive without playing exy, but he couldn't live without it. It was after his mother's death that he couldn't resist playing anymore. It was the only thing he associated happiness with and after moving around, changing his appearance and personality, he needed something permanent in his life. Since his mother couldn't fill that space anymore, he turned to exy.

Kevin grew up in the nest. He was told his entire life that his only purpose was playing exy. After Riko broke his hand it must have been very hard for him, besides the obvious. He wasn't sure if the Moriyamas would let him live, because he had no purpose, in their eyes. He pushed himself harder than anyone else. I think a part of the reason for this was because in the nest injuries weren't a good enough reason to stop playing. They had to do it, or else.

So exy was a very important tool for Kevin's survival. It was what he was raised for and he was good at it too. So logically speaking, it makes sense that he would like it.

But the reason he's so obsessed with it is because of his mother. Kayleigh was a co-inventor of the sport and he used it to feel closer to her.

Riko's obsession is different. He didn't love the game as much as what being good at it would get him. He believed that if he'd be good enough at it, his father would notice him and pay attention to him. He also liked controlling and hurting people and being the captain of the ravens put him in a convenient (for him ofc) position to do that.

Even though Jean didn't share their sentiment towards the sport he still had his native language, French, that he refused to stop using, no matter how hard Riko tried, because it would mean losing himself completely and giving up.

So why does it seem that Andrew doesn't have anything like that at the beginning of the series? Obviously, he cares about his family, he has promises and deals, and he's not afraid to die because of them. But the thing is, they keep him alive but don't make him WANT to live.

He created a purpose for his life when he couldn't find one, by making himself useful, like, promising Aaron his protection. But it clearly wasn't enough for him because he made a deal with Kevin, that if he stood between him and Riko, Kevin would give him something to build his life around (Andrew didn't believe Kevin could keep it).

he also denies his close relationships with people (Like Renee, Kevin, Neil...) because then people will know his weaknesses and use them against him. Partly he does it because of his deal with Aaron but it's obvious Andrew has problems with letting people in and trusting them.

He thinks that either someone can mean everything or nothing to him. A very good example of this is his relationship with Aaron. Their deal made it seem like they would be everything to each other, but in reality, aside from protecting him, Andrew pretty much ignored him.

I think the reason Andrew doesn't let anyone, (or even exy) too close to him, before Neil, is because he learned how dangerous it was to live for another person or thing because it could easily destroy you. Maybe not deliberately, but it was too risky. He learned it the hard way. A loving mother was so wanted by him that he was willing to put up with drake just to keep Cass. This led him to self-harm. He would continue living like this for who knows how long if not for Aaron's safety.

Andrew started playing exy in juvie. So by that time he already knew how dangerous depending on only one thing to keep you alive was.

The reason Kevin fulfills his end of the deal isn't that Neil becomes the person Andrew lives for, but because he teaches him that it doesn't have to be all or nothing. He's not obsessed with Neil, but he loves him and doesn't deny the thing between them is a something at the end of the series. We also know from the extra content that eventually he starts enjoying exy.

He starts opening up and letting things in because he has people in his life he trusts, and knows they will not use his vulnerability to hurt him. He doesn't choose one thing and start wanting to live because of it. He lets himself grow and heal with Neil by his side and finds many things in life that are worth living for.

#aftg #andrew minyard #andreil #neil josten #kevin day #riko moriyama #all for the game #jean moreau #I find this very interesting #idk if everyone already knows this but #even though i had a vague idea about it #i still didn't know the exact answer before writing this post #I guess it's hard to realize some things until you put them into words and sort of organize the jumbled mess in your head

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morganas-pendragons · 4 years ago

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No Body, No Crime | a.s.

As soon as I heard No Body, No Crime from Evermore, I had to write this with him. This is my first test of writing for Anakin - please be gentle. If you enjoy, let me know! I intend to make most of Evermore into a growing series for different SW characters! The first of them is below!

i may have played with the lyrics for a bit

long story short, i survived - din

***

He did it.

Your eyes flicker out to the awning in which Padmé Amidala stands. The cool air of Coruscant is tinged with something out of place tonight, something that makes the hairs on your nape stand to attention, and your watchful gaze flickers out to the skyline where you can usually spot the Jedi Temple in all its majesty.

The image of the skyline is tainted by the sound of screaming and the sight of fire encompassing the spires that usually stand so proud against the Coruscanti sky.

From where she stands beside you, Padmé Amidala bursts into tears and wraps her arms around the growing swell of her stomach. Part of you wants to say you aren’t jealous, that you don’t wish that was you carrying the child of Anakin Skywalker, but the part of you which desires - Jedi don’t desire, they don’t have wants or needs, they simply ARE - buries that feeling deep down and dredges the rage back up to the surface.

It’s so hard to believe that the same man who left you in charge of his pregnant wife, who was not so defenseless as he thought her to be, to return to the Temple - the same place you were both raised, the same place that saw the way you looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention - and inevitably be the reason it is now on fire.

Or so you think.

Padmé’s a friend of mine

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

Before the war, you were a Jedi Knight who had great influence with many of the Senators in the Senate. It had been how you’d met Padmé Amidala to begin with - at the tender age of fourteen when you had not been much older then she was - and had orchestrated the protection she’d received from Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.

Known for your sharp tongue and even more clever mind. Maybe that’s why Anakin took an interest in you.

Padmé’s been losing sleep

Her husband’s acting different

And it smells like infidelity

Anakin Skywalker had not been much younger then you when you met. Still a Padawan himself, he only had the eyes for Amidala and often reminded his Master of that. You’d spent many a nights with Obi-Wan Kenobi on the terraces of the Temple in deep conversation about his struggles training such a head-strong Padawan.

Then the war had come, and so had Anakin’s padawan. Starry eyed Ahsoka Tano who was barely thirteen years old and having a difficult time believing she was the apprentice to the Chosen One.

You’d never called him that. It made him too prideful, too arrogant. It was unfortunate that he was so often the topic of your dreams when it was clearly obvious he was tightly wound around Padmé Amidala.

To you, he was the same boy you’d met all those years ago before a woman and the war had changed him beyond repair.

Still, you never spoke of it. Never spoke of the way you’d watch him train his padawan in the salles, never about the way he commanded an entire army with just his fierce devotion and loyalty to the clones, never about the way you felt when he made you laugh, never about how he made such a reputation for himself that the galaxy began calling him The Hero With No Fear.

And here you were, having been one of the people who made him, just another Jedi General fighting on the front lines of a war that seemed to be going on forever.

“Master? Can I ask you something?” It had been Ahsoka to bring it up one day late on the fronts of Felucia, a mission that you’d been assigned to accompany Anakin and the 501st to with your own battalion of clones. You were among the best Jedi General with the lowest casualty rates besides Anakin and Obi-Wan and he’d advocated specifically for you to join him and the rest of the 501st.

The real reason why you’d said yes was because he said he missed you.

“Absolutely, Ahsoka.”

“You know... The Jedi has taught me my entire life that we’re not supposed to have attachments. We’re not supposed to love. I’m not sure how to do that.” Ahsoka wrung her hands in her lap and lifted her eyes to where Anakin sat on the opposite side of the fire with Fives and Hardcase, mouth stuffed with ration bars and fingers pointed at you. He was probably telling some confounded story about the three missions the two of you had taken together. One of them had ended up with you nearly stuck with a Gundark and her mate, but that’s a story for another time. “How long have you?”

You still marvel at the fact that she was that intuitive.

“Have I what?”

‘’Been attached to Master Skywalker?”

That question had struck you so hard that you hadn’t quite been able to answer her the way she’d wanted. When had you accepted the fact that you were just a leech on Anakin Skywalker’s back - someone who he’d never see because his gaze was always on Padmé - desperate for his affection that he was never going to return? What the point of running after someone who’d never chase you just as recklessly?

“I guess I always run to the people who aren’t willing to run back to me.”

From that point onward, you’d vowed to bury your feelings for Anakin Skywalker as deep as they could possibly go. There was no point in entertaining a fantasy. That’s all it was. A fantasy.

This moment, however, is anything but.

When Anakin comes back to the apartment at 500 Republica, Padmé rushes out to meet him. You’re perched in the sitting room that is swathed with shadow as you keenly watch their short lived reunion. The Force is ringing with alarm. Like it’s trying to tell you something.

“Are you alright?” Padmé asks, concern laced in her tone as she grasps his arms like her life depends on it, gaze sweeping across his face as she scans him for any injury he may have obtained. “I heard there was an attack on the Jedi Temple, you can see the smoke from here!”

I think he did it

But I just can’t prove it

I think he did it but I just can’t prove it

You’ve never had a hard time being able to read Anakin. He was always so bright and receptive to both the Force and other Force sensitive people, always tuned into the feelings of people he cared about most - and victim to the destruction of his own heart that so often got him into trouble - and now as he stands mere feet in front of you, you find it akin to staring at a wall.

It’s blank. All of him is blank. All those micro-details that had fabricated the very existence known as Anakin Skywalker is as bare as the skies above Coruscant, now filled with smoke and screams.

No, no body no crime

But I aint letting up until the day I die

“What’s happening?”

“The Jedi have tried to overthrow The Republic.” Your breath catches in your throat at what is so very obviously a lie, and your heart immediately reaches out for the presence of dear Obi-Wan Kenobi who happened to be off-world in the midst of the destruction.

The Force had spared him. You.. however... you remain unaware on whether or not it’ll spare you from what inevitably comes next.

I think he did it

People who aren’t quite sure of who they’re supposed to be are so very easily manipulated.

“I can’t believe that-” Padmé argues, ever the intelligent, and shook her head at her husband’s accusation.

“I saw Master Windu try to assassinate the Chancellor myself,” Anakin replies. Blue eyes swept into the sitting room undoubtedly in search of your form to ensure someone he trusted was still looking out for his beloved. “Are they still here?”

Padmé nods. Your devotion and loyalty to both the safety of her and her child reminded her so fondly of Sabé - her Queen’s Shadow from her time sitting on the throne on Naboo - and she desperately hoped that would not end with either of you in a grave.

“You trusted the right person with our secret, Anakin.” Padmé murmured. It was rather unfortunate that he happened to choose the same person who was trying to fight the way they felt about him. Padmé ached for you. She’d been in that very same position once. “But what are you going to do?”

“I will not betray The Republic. My loyalties lie with The Chancellor, with the Senate, and with you.” The lack of your name should alarm you. It doesn’t. Given what’s currently occurring at the Jedi Temple, which is where you should be, you are not surprised that he’s forgotten your presence. Forgotten you.

Anakin’s eyes fall on the sitting room. Just as he tells Padmé of the next phase of his plan, the darkness he is growing so accustomed to feeling is lit with the sight of a glaring emerald lightsaber.

“What about them?”

You emerge from the room to stand upon the landing platform. Padmé’s lips are poised to call out your name, to beg you not to hurt him, but the very fact remains: This thing standing in front of you is not The Hero With No Fear. He’s something else entirely. Something dark, something fake.

And darkness goes against everything you have ever stood for.

“I don’t know who you think you are.” Your voice is laced with anger as you move forward, not a drop of fear in your aspect, all while keeping your blade trained at Anakin’s chest. Your mind is screaming at you - this is anakin, he’s been broken, stop stop stop stop stop you LOVE him! - but you’re too concerned about the darkness that curls around his bones and makes its home within him to listen to your heart. “But if the Jedi who are currently screaming right now are dead at your hands, I will come back and find you. I will be your end.”

You press your hand against Padmé’s. Her eyes widen at the feel of a blaster against her palm, nearly the same as the one Saché had hidden within the throne during her first year as Queen. She hears your voice clear in your mind, be careful.

Anakin has one last thing to say to you before you depart. “If you return to the Temple to save the Jedi,” He calls out, voice monotone and lacking any of the depth and warmth he so often reserved for you and Padmé and Ahsoka. “You will be marked a traitor, and I will find you.”

Your fingers curl so tightly around your lightsaber that your knuckles turn white. Your stomach threatens to drop as reality finally catches up with you: This thing currently inhabiting the body of Anakin Skywalker is far from the same boy you’d harbored feelings for. Far from the man you’d wished he could’ve become.

“I’d like to see you try.”

The last time Padmé Amidala-Skywalker sees you is the night of Operation Knightfall. She’s more then aware of the way you look at her husband, but your love for Anakin is not her concern. It’s how he could never love you back.

The last time Anakin Skywalker sees you is before he loses himself to the Dark, gives into his thirst for power, and becomes Darth Vader.

I think he did it.

***

Padmé wasn’t there

Tuesday night at her apartment

At her job

Or anywhere

Somehow, someway, Sabé contacts you. She seems to be aware of your relationship with Padmé prior to the fall of The Republic and so presses you on the details she has been deprived of - seeing as how she’s been with Tanaka for months by that point - and how she had just... died. With no warning, no logical reason, the woman she had dedicated her life to serving was dead.

Your memory still haunts you with the sights that you’d been greeted with upon landing on Mustafar. Her half-dead body carelessly tossed on the landing platform, head lolling on her shoulder, eyes fluttering as she fought consciousness.

It had been you who had given her solace aboard her starship, and it had been you to hold her daughter.

“You were the closest to my Lady and Skywalker!” Sabé snaps over the holo, and you wince at the bite in her voice. It’s been weeks of sleepless nights and living nightmares. You’re not sure you aren’t hallucinating this entire conversation anyway. “You are truly telling me you are unaware of how she died?”

She thinks I did but I just can’t prove it

You have theories. Theories with no evidence to make them facts.

No... no body no crime

“I don’t know how she died, but she did.” Your hardened gaze lands on the former handmaiden. “And now it’s up to you to protect her legacy, Sabé.”

“Amidalans.” Sabé nods gravely at the moniker and hangs her head. “That is what we will call those who guard our Lady’s tomb. Amidalans.”

“She told me about you all the time. We are brave, your Highness.” You feign a warm smile as she meets your eyes. “There’s never been a better time to be brave for your Lady then now, Sabé.”

That is the last the former Handmaiden of Amidala hears from you. She will go on to form the Amidalans, the guardians of Padmé Amidala’s tomb upon Naboo, and will even live to survive Darth Vader.

***

The Force had spared you. Until today. Today you stand on the ground of a planet you never thought you’d find yourself apart of, today you stand in the ruins of a Sith Temple with two survivors of Order 66 and the youngest Force sensitive you have seen since the genocide of the Jedi.

Today, your soul knows what is coming. The inevitable.

I wasn’t letting up until the day he...

The name you had given Kanan and Ezra was not your real one, even despite what Ahsoka had claimed about knowing you. She knew you well. After the brief argument that had occurred in light of that news, you’d taken her aside to disclose that you’d briefly joined the Empire and had been an Inquisitor under their ranks after you had been found. Among the best of them.

You don’t tell her about how they broke you. About how he broke you with the way he towered over you, the way his fingers danced across your cheek and the way his lightsaber had burned itself into your arm. His kyber crystals had called out to you. Had weeped for reprieve.

Neither of you found it. In front of you, The Sith Temple is alight with emerald and white light.

No, no body no crime

I wasn’t letting up until the day he...

We are brave, Your Highness.

No, no body no crime

“I always said I would be the one to end you.” You call out. Planted in place by Ahsoka, you disengage your saber in favor of both you and his former Padawan using your words to beckon to the person who laid within the suit. “I still fully intend to keep that promise. You’re not-” Tears prick your eyes as you turn your head away from Vader. “You are not the man I would’ve ripped the galaxy apart for.”

“Anakin Skywalker was weak. I destroyed him.” Vader tilts his head. He’s clearly proud of himself for something. “And I destroyed you as well. What a shame. You were among the Empire’s best.”

I wasn’t letting up until the day he...

“Yeah, you did destroy me.” Ezra watches in awe as both you and Ahsoka engage your sabers, a blinding flurry of green and white light, and take your defensive stances against the Sith Lord. “And now we will destroy you, in honor of him. In honor of Anakin.”

You launch yourself right at the ghost of Anakin Skywalker. He is a mirage, a fake, a shell of darkness that once housed a being you could have sworn was made of pure starlight. Of love.

So much for fantasies.

died.

#Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker x Reader #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots #Darth Vader #Ahsoka Tano #Kanan Jarrus

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castilium · 3 years ago

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Kama/Mara (III/L)

Chaldea’s story was one of hope and love.

Ritsuka had always carried the mantle of hope. Roman had always embodied the notion of love itself. They had each paid a terrible price. It had been natural that the culmination of the Grand Order would see those two on the stage facing Goetia. Mashu had no regrets that she had expired too soon. Well... one. But she had said her goodbyes to Roman prior to their dispatch, even if meant for him to emerge the survivor. Ritsuka hadn’t. To encroach on that opportunity, it would be unjust. She had paid such a heavy toll up until that moment, and the price stacked higher each day since.

Ritsuka was hope, and the world had pushed all its dependence on her, demanded so much that a solitary human could never bear the brunt. Her bones snapped, her skin split and bled, her heart crushed, her mind breaking evermore. Roman was love, and that sentiment tortured him each and every single day for more than a decade. It encirlced him with the beastial gnawing fangs of fear, dread, despair, doubt, failure, their snarls which kept him up at night, and pushed him far further than a solitary human could bear.

In that time, Mashu had been neither.

Roman’s passing left her an inheritance — Mashu would become love.

The journey had been hers and Ritsuka’s from beginning to end, whatever that end may be. From the beginning, Roman had entrusted Chaldea’s Master with a flame, a tiny ember. A spark that grew and spread, so that by the time Romani Archaman left the stage, his successor could pick up where he left off. At the end of the journey, Ritsuka had already expressed her intent on doing the same.

“And then, I’ll pass the baton to her because I know she’ll carry it to the end.”

For seven months, Mashu Kyrielite had lived without hope inside of her. The hardships of morality had tested her, and on too many occasion had she failed. It must have only brought pain and frustration to those who bore witness to her, not least the woman who entrusted her with that gift and the Beast whom had been the audience to her conviction.

Love and hope were much a coin each, warped into a curse when a flip landed them on tails.

“What you reside in is none a human body, but that created by Beast’s Magic"/

“Despite what you may think and what everything seems to suggest, you are not turning into Beast IV.”

She wasn’t a Beast, but she was love. The same kind of love that birthed such creature. She understood Goetia much more with time — that boundless love for humanity, that desire to protect and watch it flourish. She knew love hurt. She had seen it many times.

Through the Beasts. And on the other side of that lightning strike.

Tonelico loved. She loved so much that the Fae crafted a weapon out of it and tortured her all the same. They beat her love. They mangled her love. They burned her love. They pushed and pushed until her love grew cold as winter ice. And then the story was rewritten, painting her as the villain, like the Beasts.

She had spared Mashu the horrors through measures taken to see her survival through millennia. Much like how Pepe spared her, Ritsuka and Arturia those inflicted curses. How he urged Ritsuka to take Mashu and run, to leave him — one at death’s door — behind to perish, protect her as a Master would.

That love, that endless love from avenues infinite. That was Roman. That was Mashu.

That love she had for her Master which tormented her like Roman and Tonelico before at the imagined vision of Fujimaru Ritsuka, humanity’s saviour, dead. The fruits of her labour toppled from the cold palm of her hand. The shadow of two years that would loom over her male twin from which he would never emerge. Humanity’s hope, leaving behind a gift for their successor. The last price they would be troubled to pay.

Hope and love would converge in one entity: humanity’s testament, but not its saviour. The story of hope and love was authored by hands of others, she was merely the storyteller. Romani Archaman. Fujimaru Ritsuka. Their story. Their story... concluded.

Hope and love. Hope and love. Hope and love.

At a distance from the festival’s offerings, they had taken to the Sky-Strewn Isles, beneath the stars. Watching them, Mashu’s thoughts of the Time Temple came to ease her frayed nerves. At the culmination of a tremendous journey, there had been something wondrous in that final push — a magic in the air alight with the blessing of so many Servants converged into the same battlefield. On the other side of the seventh Lostbelt, she anticipated no such miracle. She could hardly imagine such a thrilling conclusion, something breath-taking that exceeded the trepidation of what failure would permit reality. She was not that pure girl who held her head high, even as the end of the world blazed above their heads.

“I thought about it a lot. Even when I died, Senpai kept going. It must have been tremendously painful — her body was at its limits, and she had dreaded seeing me go — but she kept going. She kept summoning Servants even though doing so put an enormous strain on herself, because she couldn’t afford to give up”.

You were dying even then, weren’t you, Senpai? You were dying when you limped back towards Chaldea all by yourself.

“The legend says you knew about your death the moment before you pulled the Sword of Selection, and yet you did it. You pulled it and sacrificed yourself for a cause far greater”.

“Yes.

Merlin enacted one final evaluation to test my resolution. I surrendered my humanity in that moment and accepted the end, whatever may come. Ritsuka did the same, but that is where the similarities end. Not a country, but the world was asked of her, and all while human. Whether she has written herself off as one too steeped in sin to be worth the title, the fact remains she is human”.

Among those lights, Saber had not been one to tread the Time Temple. Why King Arthur herself would not appear among humanity’s greatest army, to fight for its future... there had never been any reasonable explanation. The Lion King and her knights, the Round Table, they had been the representatives. The stoic manner in which she carried herself, it wasn’t unfamiliar to Chaldeans, but something had changed. She’d hardened herself to bear the weight of demands made upon Chaldea, the way Mashu had tried, the way Ritsuka had to.

“When she fought Goetia, I wonder how far off she was from now? When she was so worn down and her spirit alone kept her moving. What went through her mind. What burned brightest in her.

I began to think about if the ending that waits beyond the Lostbelts would demand the same, when she’s already falling apart. That maybe I could do it in her place, just one more time, and not leave everything to her like we have all this time. Maybe I could fight with rage in my eyes, teeth grit with fury, a dedication to fight the entire world for her, a resolution to have her last long enough to see even a second more, maybe even enough anger that I would think to burn the world that wasn’t worth it if it meant getting her back.

If it meant sharing her pain, her scars".

Saber’s eyes closed briefly. Familiar notions had driven her charge previously; that of phenomenal determination against all odds. “Mashu. I cannot begin to help Ritsuka, not if she won’t allow it. None of us can. It’s a fact that feasts without satisfaction. You and the Count are no doubt overcome by the same, yet he maintains his composure. As one inexperienced, you’ve heard numerous interpretations on the matter, each accompanied by beliefs. Nothing I can say will be new or comforting.

It is quiet infuriating... to suspect she will not survive and witness what was salvaged by her sacrifice. For there to be no apparent means to overturn that outcome, in spite of everything she has given. always". As a Servant, who could do naught for her Master. It had nothing to do with the echo of Arthur’s death; Ritsuka was human. Whether she had accepted that ending or not, she was hope. She was the brightest light in the world. Moreso than any Servant, any star. Without her, the whole world went dark. Without meaning. Like those brief lives they fought for — Mashu’s wish was not eternity for the brightest of Chaldea’s stars, but milliseconds more on that fleeting blink that was a human lifespan.

Hope and love. Hope and love.

“After all the pain she’s suffered, and all the deaths she’s witnessed... yet how she carried herself, then and now. I’ve disliked so much how weak I’ve been these past months. I haven’t held my ground and rebelled against how everything is so unfair. I folded in and my heart grew weak. If faced against something as powerful as Goetia’s Noble Phantasm, I wouldn’t hold up, and everything would have been for nothing. Everything she endured, but still stood up after. I thought about turning my heart to stone and try to close out the pain”.

Their eyes met. A silent acknowledgement. Saber didn’t reply.

“But I can’t. Doctor Roman gave me so much, and I have to carry it on in his stead. I don’t want to disappoint him

Senpai treats herself like a martyr the way you did, and I would gladly sacrifice myself again for her. But I can’t. I have to live because it’s what she wants. The way I want so much for her to. If it came down to a decision, we’d choose each other to carry on. I would give her love, she would give me hope. We’re as bad as each other, but that’s the price of Doctor Roman’s gift. I don’t regret carrying it for him, but I do feel unworthy. How I feel so unworthy of hers.

Some days, I feel as though the tenacity she always has, and just how brilliantly it shone for no-one to see, is enough to climb over the hurdle and cope with an ending she doesn’t get to see. I feel pride swell in my chest and feel inspired to do the same, and that would be the legacy of her memory I would carry. But they’re just temporary, like everything else”.

Momentary peace descended, the noise of skiers a distant hum. “I can’t make peace with it yet. When she came back from the Time Temple, I thought we’d lost her, and never wanted to feel that again. But now it’s every day, and nothing has happened. I can’t save her, like you couldn’t save Britain. Holding her final gift but unable to hold her hand scares me. But Doctor Roman was scared. Senpai is scared. And they did what they had to, they didn’t close in on themselves. I want to be strong again, so they can rest assured their mantles would be in safe hands, and they can watch without fear when I fight the way they did, beyond the border of human and wielding impossible”. They would speak pride of her no matter what, but she wanted to be the Mashu Kyrielite who could believe and feel the same. Their champion as they were hers and Chaldea’s.

Hope and love.

#LORE.#gently slides 2k words of solomon still fucking me up #and shiny new time temple icons #oh and canon point update that too

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alrighttevans · 4 years ago

Text

evermore

but if the world was ending you’d hold me, right?

inspired by this prompt

Ao3 link

The tight grip over her heart was no stranger to Ladybug.

In fact, as much as she loathed the fact, it had grown into a very much familiar sensation for her. When she was Marinette, she felt it when she was on the verge of an anxiety crisis. When she was Ladybug, she felt it every time she watched an akuma take her partner from her right before her eyes.

On a few occasions, it was a spell she could manage to break. More often than not, it was some kind of possession that would turn him against her until she managed to capture the akuma. Yet, sometimes — too many times, for her displeasure —, it was murder, what took Chat Noir from her.

She felt deeply distressed every single time she lost her Chaton in battle, even though it had happened several times already — the stupid cat always had to put himself between her and any dangerous threat, being the great foolish hero that he was —, it always brought a sharp and incessant pain into her chest, like it was the first. At the pace that a little corner on her mind that archived the multiple occasions in which Chat had heroically and selflessly and kindly sacrificed himself for her had only grown larger, so had the hurt that each event left on her. She was not ready, when Timebreaker had taken him from her, back when they were still very young. She was not ready, when he had jumped from the gameboard, back at the time they fought against Gamer for a second time. She was not ready now, when the Polished Avenger had erased him from existence, so she could now control who was anybody and who wasn’t.

When Ladybug hadn’t been quick enough to dodge the akuma’s attack and Chat Noir refused to let her pay the price for that mistake.

She was not ready.

Ladybug still found herself shaking, as she ran for her life, unwilling to allow her partner’s sacrifice to go to waste. She still felt her whole person being filled with a mixture of both fear and despair, as she gasped for air, leaning back on one of the walls of the narrow alley she had converted into her current hiding spot. She still had a growing overwhelming need inside her telling her to sit in a corner and cry, as she attempted to stop the tears that threatened to fall off her bluebell hurt eyes.

It was not supposed to happen, him being taken.

They were Ladybug and Chat Noir! They were complements of each other! There was no creation without destruction! She became unbalanced without him; lost, even, to a certain extent — even though you wouldn’t hear her admitting to that —, because she wasn’t supposed to do this without him! She didn’t want to do this without him, but she had to, if she ever wished to see him again.

No, Ladybug couldn’t allow herself to drown in the sorrowful taste that rose through her throat. She couldn’t give herself the benefit of the doubt; Paris depended on her, her sanity depended on her, her kitty depended on her and she had only one chance to capture the akuma and make things right again — one misstep and she would be doomed.

So she ordered herself to stop stalling and do her fucking job, because the clock was ticking and she couldn’t fail. Keep yourself together, she chastised, as she wiped her tears away and blinked a few times, trying to regain the focus she needed to think clearly and win this battle — and bring him back —, even if the weight over her shoulders kept pulling her from her objective.

Just… Why did he keep doing that? Didn’t he realise what a mess she became once he was gone? She loved him for all the qualities that made Chat Noir who he was, yet she still hated him for it, since those same qualities were the ones driving him into taking a hit for her again and again. Had he no sense of self preservation? Honestly. The boy could use some.

She tugged her pigtails, sliding her fingers through her long dark locks.

Focus, Ladybug.

Throwing her hand upwards, she called for her lucky charm, hoping her luck wouldn't abandon her, and a red and black candy apple fell into her hands.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” She frowned, before carefully poking her head out of her safe area to see if she could find something that would snap the solution to all of her problems in her mind. Ladybug’s eyes ran through the perimeter and she was able to see the Polished Avenger searching for her, calling for that “pesky bug”, as the akuma so kindly nicknamed her; an idea forming in her head.

Feeling the ever so familiar adrenaline of a risky fight taking charge of her, Ladybug dashed back to the battlefield, only daring to go as close to the akuma as her plan demanded to. “Looking for me?” She called, before a frown took place in her face. Polished Avenger wasn’t there. Where had she gone to? Oh, no. Her frown was replaced by wide eyes at the realisation; it was a trap.

Panic ran through her veins, as she looked around her, alarmed to find her opponent coming from only God knows where and jumping on her. She gave a last minute back flip, that prevented her from disappearing right that second and quickly occupied herself with putting as much distance as she could from the akuma. She couldn’t afford sloppy tactics, otherwise she would lose, lose him. She couldn’t let his faith in her to be misplaced.

As she watched the Polished Avenger getting closer and closer from the corner of her eye, trying to touch her with her bloody duster, she threw her yoyo on the balcony of a nearby building and pulled herself out of the akuma’s way.

“You can’t run forever, you annoying little pest.” The akumatized woman snarled, watching her carefully.

“Trust me, I don’t plan to.” Ladybug replied, more to herself than to her opponent, and threw her yoyo onto a farther building, one in which would give her enough time to land on the ground without being hit at the pace that the akuma chased her on foot.

The Polished Avenger was just a few yards away when Ladybug prayed that her aim wouldn’t betray her and threw the candy apple in her opponent’s direction, as she held her breath. The akuma caught the sweet in the air, before it could hit her, and stretched her hand open to toss off the candy as she followed her way, only to stop when she noticed the apple candy was still on her hand. The woman tried to shake her hand like a loon, glaring at the offending sweet and sneer in frustration, but she couldn’t get rid of the apple candy. Lastly, she let go of the duster to try and remove it with her other hand, and Ladybug wasted no time and snatched the duster with her yoyo. When the akuma realised what she was doing, it was already too late; she broke the object and freed the familiar black butterfly from it. Quicky, Ladybug captured the akuma and cleansed it.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly.” She said, as she dashed to the very confused woman standing before her and took the apple candy from her hands, without either a ‘please’ or a comforting comment to her; Ladybug was yet too exhausted, too shaken, too anxious to think about anybody else. She had won, it would have to do for now. “Miraculous Ladybug!” She called while she threw the candy into the air, feeling the bittersweet taste of her victory on her tongue.

Chat Noir blinked, feeling the familiar sensation of time loss and confusion after an akuma possession flow through him, trying to evaluate as much as he could from his surroundings, however, he couldn’t assess much, for the first thing he put his eyes on was the red and black blur that was Ladybug running in his direction and throwing herself in his arms.

Even though his eyes widened, his arms immediately found her back and held her, just as tight as she pressed herself to him. It took Chat a second to realise the soft, subtle sound of his lady sobbing, as he felt shock run through his body.

“My lady?” He called, as quietly as he could when he was full with concern.

She didn’t answer, at first, but buried her head in the crook of his neck and kept shedding her tears, and the only thing Chat could do was to hug her close, as she took her time and his heart filled with fright with whatever had got Ladybug this distressed.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Her question came as a whisper, one in which he wouldn’t have caught, if it wasn’t for his heightened senses, causing his brows to meet in a frown.

“That what?”

“Dying for me.” Ladybug’s voice broke with her answer, and his jaw dropped.

She was crying because of him?

He was the mindless prat that had made her cry?

“I… I can’t help it. The thought of you—” Chat shook his head, refusing to verbalize that dreadful thought that haunted him every time his lady was caught in imminent danger, and it was his duty to prevent it from happening. “The world doesn’t end when I get hit by an akuma.”

“Mine does.” He felt his heart break as she pulled her face away from his neck, allowing him to see the painful watery gaze on her pale blue eyes. He was hurting her, and he couldn’t bear to see her heart break.

“It’s okay.” His hands found her face, as he cupped her cheeks, and Chat, touching her softly, carefully wiped her falling tears, that led a melancholic thread behind them. “I’m okay. It’s just temporary, everything always goes back into place.”

“What if someday I can’t fix everything?” Ladybug prodded, “What if I lose you forever?” She whispered, as if she was afraid that, if she spoke too loud, some superior force would listen and shape her nightmare into reality.

It was like having a knife being continuously stabbed into his chest, to watch Ladybug drowning herself in the ocean of guilt about his safety. She shouldn’t have the weight of his actions making her sink faster. Couldn’t she see that it was all for the best? For if she was the one that was gone, Chat Noir would break. He wouldn’t be able to think clearly and come up with a smart solution, as she did every time. He wouldn’t be able to focus on studying the akuma’s weaknesses, but instead he would fall into a deep cliff of despair and nothing and no-one would have the power to bring him back. Paris would be doomed; stuck with a hero too unstable to do his job. However, even if he managed to overcome his distress, he didn’t have a Miraculous Ladybug Cure to make it all right again — he would never be able to recover from losing her forever. How could she fathom the idea of him not preventing this catastrophe from happening?

Well, he wasn’t the one that was going to ask her that.

One task at the time, and the present worry was to take that sorrowful expression off of her lovely features.

“Do you really think you can get rid of me that easily?” He inquired, with a cocky smile, hoping his light comment would bring a smile to her lips. “I’ve told you, my lady, you have a life sentence to serve for stealing my heart.”

“Chat! This is serious!” She chastised, hesitantly removing her arms from his neck to cross them over her chest. She still was a bit worried he’d vanish again if she ever let go of him.“You-you have to stop it. I can't watch you disappear before me, because of me ever again.”

“It's okay, Ladybug. It'll always be okay.”

“No, it’s not! Promise me you won't do it again.” She was inflexible; Ladybug had always been stubborn, but this, oh, she definitely was not backing down from this argument. He could see it on her eyes — they burnt with determination and fury. In usual circumstances, he would be intimidated by the glare she was throwing his way. Normally, he would soon agree with her, for she generally was right, especially concerning serious matters. She was a brilliant girl, after all. He would be a fool not to listen to her. But this? This wasn’t something he could give her. He would rather be forever gone than to live in a world where she didn’t. “Please.” Her tone was somewhere between demanding and begging.

“I can't, my lady. I'm sorry.”

“Stupid cat.” She scolded, before burying herself on his chest again and his arms immediately wrapped her close — it seemed that they never were close enough, even though the space between their bodies was none.

They remained there, in silence, longing for more of something they couldn’t name, until the sound of her earrings beeping was what broke them apart and both their eyes grew wide with the realisation of what that meant. Chat Noir sighed, feeling a sudden exhaustion and all the weight that came with his duty settling over his shoulders. They could stay hours, days, years, there, in each other's arms, if it wasn’t for the alarm that dreadly announced the end of their timed moment together — the curse of desire and responsibility that kept chasing Chat, despite his best efforts.

He was the first to let go, knowing all too well that if he dared to wait for a few more minutes, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do so. As soon as she felt the absence of his hands on the small of her back, Ladybug slowly untangled herself from him. Her pale blue eyes shone with the words that were stuck on her throat, as she raised her fist to him, with a bittersweet smile on her face.

Chat bumped into her fist with his own, without ever taking his gaze away from hers, as he wondered if she could read the I love you he tried to communicate to her with his cat-like eyes.

However, “Pound it.” was the only thing they both said, in unison, before forcibly parting ways.

#evermore #mari writes miraculous #mari writes something #ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #love square #chat noir #ladybug #ml love square #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #mlb fanfic #ml #mlb

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shortqueershakespeare · 4 years ago

Text

ask set number 2

for u anon, thank u for showing consistent interest.

‘taylor swift’ album asks

tim mcgraw: what song would you like to be associated with?

candlelight by relient k

picture to burn: are you a good driver? wlw, don’t even lie.

good god no

teardrops on my guitar: tell us something interesting you often think about at night.

something interesting? I often write poetry when I’m trying to fall asleep which is probably the most interesting things but I also go through the states of america in alphbetical order to try and fall asleep lol.

a place in this world: where on earth do you feel most at home?

In my bed or on the sofa in the kitchen at my dad’s.

cold as you: do you enjoy the rain or wish it away?

Both, but I actually love going for a walk in the rain as long as i’m not going anywhere.

the outside: tag someone you have a friend crush on.

@oneoveroneisone

tied together with a smile: you see a penny on the ground, heads up. do you pick it up? do you believe it’s lucky? do you pocket it or spend it?

I probably wouldn’t pay attention to it tbh.

stay beautiful: what do you picture in your mind to make you feel better on a rainy day?

Sitting in a warm corner with hot chocolate reading a book.

should’ve said no: what are your thoughts on cheating? can it be forgiven?

i think it’s really hard to make blanket judgements on stuff like this, i think in general cheating is shit, but obviously nothing is black and white and there are situations where it can be forgiven but i think it also depends on if you have the same definition of cheating as someone else. I think that’s definitely something you have to agree on in a relationship or it can lead to crossed wires.

mary’s song (oh my my my): did you have a childhood best friend (romantic or not)? if so, tell us about them and describe a happy memory you two shared.

Let’s go with Horatio, as kids we shared an obsession with rabbits and used to bring in our toy rabbits to play with and I remember him buying me one for my birthday, it was very cute and I still have the bunny somewhere.

our song: without giving a name, post a song you’d like to dedicate to someone.

Rocket Man - Elton John.

i’m only me when i’m with you: tag some friends that mean a lot to you.

I actually don’t have many tumblr friends!

invisible: name your top 3 celebrity crushes

Liv Hewson, Andrew Scott, Ben Platt.

perfectly good heart: briefly explain your first love (the experience, not them as a person).

Falling in love for the first time was just how it’s described, a whirlwind, throwing yourself headfirst into love for another person. I’m lucky that my first love stuck around for three years - after all, you only get your first love once. It was a good love to have.

teardrops on my guitar (pop version): what would you wish for if you spotted a shooting star?

Motivation.

evermore asks

1. willow 🌿 whats a song you can't get out of your head?

Sword from the Stone - Passenger.

2. champagne problems 🥂 what's something that's troubling you right now?

I really need a bath tbh.

3. gold rush 🥇 what makes you feel insecure in a relationship or friendship?

Being told they aren’t interested in something I’m saying.

4. tis the damn season 🎄 what's your favorite holiday tradition?

All my family being in one place.

5. tolerate it 🎨 what makes you feel loved and celebrated?

Using masc terms to describe me, giving me casual masc compliments.

6. no body, no crime 🛥 what's your relationship with your best friend like?

An absolute mess because that’s what we both are but I love her to pieces.

7. happiness 😊 what makes you feel happy?

My family, my friends, sunlight, sunsets, snow, a nice cup of tea.

8. dorothea 🛻 what's your favorite thing or memory about your hometown?

Most of my memories that aren’t tied to v specific locations like school/theatre/tennis club are just memories of me walking places, and I love that because I’ve walked all over my city from when I was little to now and it’s nice to have that coherence, listening to playlists through the years, walking from school to home and walking to meet my first boyfriend, walking home after taking care of my grandma, walking around the downs with a drink at sunset, walking through the city with my friends, getting to experience the city on my own terms.

9. coney island 🎡 where's somewhere that you go to reflect and think? what made you choose there?

I generally like reflecting at nighttime, in this flat it’s either my bed/windowsill or the little corner with two chairs in the living room. I like to walk around outside so those places are the closest I can get to being outdoors. At home I walk around my garden or lie under the apple trees and look at the stars.

10. ivy 🍃 have you ever had an affair or dated multiple people at once without them knowing?

Not an affair no, and not dated multiple people without them knowing.

11. cowboy like me 🤠 what do you pride yourself on? what qualities do you love most about yourself?

I’m compassionate and forgiving and fiercely loving. I’m pragmatic and efficient when I need to be.

12. long story short 👠 what's one thing you wish everyone knew about you?

I guess how hard I’ve fought against depression, because from the outside it often looks like I’m lazy but I’m really trying.

13. marjorie 🧑‍🦳 what's one lesson you learned from a loved one who has passed?

To work hard and practically - how to build stuff and be self-sufficient.

14. closure ✉ do you have a situation that requires closure? what would you to say to gain closure, if you could?

Yeah I think so. I’d say I wish I’d never let it happen a second time but I’m grateful that it pushed me to the breakup. I felt wanted by you but after that I felt used and like you never actually gave a shit about me and I’m sorry that we lost our friendship. I hope you’re okay and I hope you did actually care about me.

15. evermore 🌊 what helps you hold onto hope when you're going through hard times?

The knowledge that I’ve got through this before and that it’s not going to be forever.

16. right where you left me ⌛ if you had to spend a year in one place, where would it be?

Cambridge or Vienna. If we’re talking spending a year in a specific moment, it’s a choice of three, drinking on a dog walk with Hannah in the pouring rain and coming home to dad standing there with dinner ready and towels for us to get dry, halloween of this year with my friends in Vienna, or my last glitterbomb pres, drinks and laughter and stories from when we were sixteen.

17. it's time to go 🕒 where do you most want to travel to when this pandemic is over?

Home. Other than that I’d honestly like to just come back to Vienna.

#personal #personal post #personal posts #ask game #ask games #anons #answering questions

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 8 years ago

Photo

24th May >> Mass Readings (except USA)

for

Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Eastertide

Solemnity of Our Lady, Help of Christians (Australia & New Zealand)

Blessed Louis-Zépherin Moreau, Bishop (Canada).

Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White) First Reading

Acts of the Apostles 17:15,22-18:1

Paul’s escort took him as far as Athens, and went back with instructions for Silas and Timothy to rejoin Paul as soon as they could.

So Paul stood before the whole Council of the Areopagus and made this speech: ‘Men of Athens, I have seen for myself how extremely scrupulous you are in all religious matters, because I noticed, as I strolled round admiring your sacred monuments, that you had an altar inscribed: To An Unknown God. Well, the God whom I proclaim is in fact the one whom you already worship without knowing it.

‘Since the God who made the world and everything in it is himself Lord of heaven and earth, he does not make his home in shrines made by human hands. Nor is he dependent on anything that human hands can do for him, since he can never be in need of anything; on the contrary, it is he who gives everything – including life and breath – to everyone. From one single stock he not only created the whole human race so that they could occupy the entire earth, but he decreed how long each nation should flourish and what the boundaries of its territory should be. And he did this so that all nations might seek the deity and, by feeling their way towards him, succeed in finding him. Yet in fact he is not far from any of us, since it is in him that we live, and move, and exist, as indeed some of your own writers have said: “We are all his children.” ‘Since we are the children of God, we have no excuse for thinking that the deity looks like anything in gold, silver or stone that has been carved and designed by a man.

‘God overlooked that sort of thing when men were ignorant, but now he is telling everyone everywhere that they must repent, because he has fixed a day when the whole world will be judged, and judged in righteousness, and he has appointed a man to be the judge. And God has publicly proved this by raising this man from the dead.’

At this mention of rising from the dead, some of them burst out laughing; others said, ‘We would like to hear you talk about this again.’ After that Paul left them, but there were some who attached themselves to him and became believers, among them Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman called Damaris, and others besides. After this, Paul left Athens and went to Corinth.

The Word of the Lord.

R/ Thanks be to God. Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 148:1-2,11-14

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth.

R/ Alleluia!

Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise him in the heights.Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his host.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth.

R/ Alleluia!

All earth’s kings and peoples, earth’s princes and rulers,young men and maidens, old men together with children.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth.

R/ Alleluia!

Let them praise the name of the Lord for he alone is exalted.The splendour of his name reaches beyond heaven and earth.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth.

R/ Alleluia!

He exalts the strength of his people. He is the praise of all his saints,of the sons of Israel, of the people to whom he comes close.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth.

R/ Alleluia! Gospel Acclamation

Colossians 3:1

Alleluia, alleluia!

Since you have been brought back to true life with Christ,you must look for the things that are in heaven, where Christ is,sitting at God’s right hand.

Alleluia! Or

John 14:16

Alleluia, alleluia!

I shall ask the Father,and he will give you another Advocate to be with you for ever.

Alleluia! Gospel

John 16:12-15

Jesus said: ‘I still have many things to say to you but they would be too much for you now.But when the Spirit of truth comes he will lead you to the complete truth,since he will not be speaking as from himself but will say only what he has learnt;and he will tell you of the things to come.He will glorify me,since all he tells you will be taken from what is mine.Everything the Father has is mine;that is why I said:All he tells you will be taken from what is mine.’

The Gospel of the Lord.

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ. ---------------------------------------------------------------------

Solemnity of Our Lady, Help of Christians (Australia)

(Liturgical Colour: White) First Reading

Ecclesiasticus 4:12-21 Wisdom brings up her own sons, and cares for those who seek her.Whoever loves her loves life, those who wait on her early will be filled with happiness.Whoever holds her close will inherit honour, and wherever he walks the Lord will bless him.Those who serve her minister to the Holy One, and the Lord loves those who love her.Whoever obeys her judges aright, and whoever pays attention to her dwells secure.If he trusts himself to her he will inherit her, and his descendants will remain in possession of her;for though she takes him at first through winding ways, bringing fear and faintness on him,plaguing him with her discipline until she can trust him, and testing him with her ordeals,in the end she will lead him back to the straight road and reveal her secrets to him.

The Word of the Lord.

R/ Thanks be to God. Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 112(113):1-8