#give it to myself. will be cruel. will be tough. think it holds less pain still.

[fionnaskyborn]

wish i could stop losing stuff irretrievably. some hardware error emptied out my recycle bin a couple days earlier. just to shit on a day i'd spent being genuinely happy about the art i create. i guess. i'm tired of compromises, sick of lying that "it wasn't that important anyway", and throwing up at "oh well, can't be helped".

and yet. and yet. despite every pain, both major and minor, the love is there. the love is still there. guess i've just somehow miraculously hit that point (or gone past it a long time ago) where every grievance beyond a certain amount hurts an unspeakable amount more than it should. and it stacks. probably went overboard a while back. don't know when.

still, i adore my project. still got someone in whose arms i feel safe. hope i'll get out someday. hope i'll get a win.

[khaleesiofalicante]

There are so many things happening that these are my reactions in a nutshell:

Me: Coming back from a trip all relaxed and happy

University: Here are 5 assignments you have to start on immediately

Dani: Here is a 10k one shot of TLND!Mavid angst

This was a gift and I thank you for your service, the Mavid angst was great motivation (I miss Mavid so much you have no idea🥹)

I also have soooo many thoughts about it that I can't analyse but:

1) Either way, this isn’t David’s burden to carry. It’s his own. And he’ll find a way to work through it.

Max is wrong in my opinion, his insecurity about David? It's not his to deal with, he needs to share it with his partner. Not just the David leaving with the kids part but him loving the kids more than Max and their dynamic sifting. Is it David's job to solve it for Max? No. But he can understand his husband's feelings better, he can be more empathetic towards him, can reassure him if the need arises and can control his reactions (for example if he knew of Max's insecurities then he would have proposed going back to France in a better way, maybe give Max more context, be less adamant about it, reassure him that it is difficult to be without him etc).

2) The difference between someone willingly going to therapy and someone forced to go (TLND!Max/ IALS!Max) was so obvious here. How deep Max reached, how he understood where it was all coming from, how healthy he handled the conversation after his realisations. It's a beautiful thing really. I recently had a conversation with my mum (who doesn't believe in therapy but doesn't know I see a therapist) and I realized how wrong people can view therapy sometimes, or how worthless they consider it. My mum thinks that a therapist tells you you're always right and I tried to explain it to her but she didn't get it. Yet the difference is clear to me, I even see it in myself sometimes and I definitely saw it in the way you wrote Max here. So different from every other version. Not because he doesn't yell or say cruel things. But in the way he handles the aftermath. The way he expresses himself. Especially his conversation with Malec. It's so hard to hold your parents responsible for their misgivings when you love them and admire them so much. I can not see LBAF or even IALS Max admitting their fear or pain to David/Malec like that. Or recognising their insecurities in such a healthy way.

3) Doctor Hassan needs to be a canon event for Max I swear, just get Doctor Hassan in LBAF I'm begging you! Look how nicely Max told David about his fears here! Let him express himself please😭

4) “Yeah,” Lance nods eagerly. “Papa is always sad when you’re away.”

This line got me good and created a little scene in my head. I can totally see Arthur and Lance coming up with a plan to convince Max and David that they shouldn't go back to France without Max. Like they enter Mavid's bedroom all serious and having a whiteboard and presenting reasons why that was a silly plan. And Lance going all serious and saying:

Number one: Arthur needs daddy to sleep (like how Max checked Arthur's room for monsters in LDV)

Number two: Lance needs daddy to eat (this just came to me I don't know why, like what if Lance had trouble eating after the accident because he couldn't see what he was putting in his mouth and would only eat when Max told these elaborate stories that Lance got engrossed in and would eat without realising?)

Number three: Papa needs daddy to smile

And Mavid melting right then and there and resolved the fighting and everything. I love Mavid family shenanigans!

4) “That’s a tough one,” David says. “No amount of time you spend with me is ever enough.”

I just love obsessed David💛

5)Dad’s expression darkens. “Do you want me to fight that French piece of shit? Because I will.”

This was so funny to me, Alec always ready to take Max's side and fight David, I love to see it😂

6) “I can’t get divorced right now,” Max says quietly. “Lance just found a school he loves, and Arthur starts next year. It would be too much for them.”

The IALS trauma is real and it's never going away. Dani Mavid can never get divorced again it's against the laws of the universe please don't do this to us again😭 (Not me saying that while being absolutely obsessed with IALS)

See I said I wouldn't analyse and then I did, I can't help it.

And then of course we have your book.

Me: I don't have time to go to start exercising

Also me: spends an hour going through the wwdc tag and writing down all the information, collecting them posts like they're infinity gems🤷‍♀️

You created a whole country and you sketched it too and it's simply brilliant! We feed on the crumbs you give us I hope you know that🩷

Also me: reading OFRI in one sitting and loving it.

The last chapter, oh it hit me so hard. I'm a little hoe for angst sue me🥰

I have a feeling the way Magnus is reacting and all the things he said to Alec during dinner... is the aftermath of Camille? I could be wrong and I hope I am but all those things about cheating and getting over the love of your life? It just fits somehow.

All in all, I'm super excited and happy for you following a direction that fulfils you, please be proud of yourself for doing something so brave🥰💛

Me when I wake up and find Vicky has sent me an essay

I'm glad the Mavid angst helped(??) lmao. Angst is truly a good motivator, I agree.

I agree with you wholeheartedly about the first point. Max is definitely wrong. His therapist did tell him to talk to David about the insecurity - not just about David leaving but Max feeling he has been deprioritized. These kinds of feelings can be harmful if they are not addressed, so I do hope (Even though we didn't see it) Dr. H brings it up with Max, and Max talks to David about it. This theme is very relevant for LBAF - especially for Other Max because we know he kind of got left out in the aftermath of everything :(

I loooooved your analysis of Max and therapy. It's very true. Just the mere fact that he was struggling and realized he needed to talk to his therapist is a big deal - especially after we know what he was like in TLND about opening up to people. I can see IALS (older) Max eventually getting there, but definitely not LBAF Max rip.

Dr. H is unfortunately not a canon event 😔

I LOVED THIS AHHH. I can also see them doing a small skit or play to act out what will happen. Elyaas will direct it of course.

Obsessed David, my beloved 💙

Alec hating on David is a canon event

Divorce fics truly hit different, huh. Hard same.

I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying the WWCF crumbs. I am so excited for it and more than that, it's just so much to build a whole world of your fun (and so difficult looool). Thank you for the love 🧡

Welcome to the OFRI world! It's not super angsty, unfortunately. But we're currently in the angsty station. The train will leave soon, I promise!!

Sending you lots of love and energy to get through this semester ❤️

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e2 hello, cruel world (w. ben edlund)

HALLUCIFER Right. You think this fruit-bat fever dream is reality? You come back, I'm sorry, with no soul like some peppy American Psycho, till Saint Dean glues you back together again by buying you some magic amnesia. You’re real. I’m very real. Everything between is what we call set dressing.

heart is breaking for sam already

HALLUCIFER You’re still in my cell. You’re my bunkmate, buddy. You’re my little bitch, in every sense of the term.

in general i am overly literal and what i see is what i get when it comes to show canon but i'm trying so hard to hold tight to the illusion in my mind that hell-torture for sam and dean didn't involve rape but they're making it really fucking hard. there's been other references, i think one in the last ep no less. just keep thinking to myself "gloss over it, they're just being edgy, they don't actually mean it". i start to get real upset if i think about it so yeah.

i know i'm wearing the wincest goggles but again i feel like i am capable of picking up what a show is putting down regardless of a ship i might be invested in, but i feel like i'm losing it with cas and dean's relationship level. i feel like we have seen so little of cas in general, that they keep TALKING about how they're all close but we've seen so little of it?? i'd think with 22 episodes a season they'd have room to establish this onscreen 🥴 but here's dean crying over presumed-dead cas. i guess i'm just gonna have to go with it and stop complaining about sHoW doN't TeLL

god what is this weird music transition into the doobie brothers black water - just because the lyrics work does not mean the music does :P hard left turn after mushy dead cas scene. i fear i have slipped into overly critical mode

short and gruff version of hannibal tending will graham's wounded hands post-tier

i get that dean's freaked out and scared but he's being such an asshole to sam

what an exceptionally cruel hallucination they're giving sam. i might need to look up how long he deals with this before it gets fixed because.....

DEAN Yeah, well. I’m not Sam, okay? I keep my marbles in a lead friggin' box. I’m fine. Really.

big fat fuck you, dean. you can't out tough psychosis.

BOBBY Of course. Yeah. You just lost one of the best friends you ever had, your brother’s in the bell jar, and Purgatory’s most wanted are surfing the sewer lines, but yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re – you're fine.

one of the best friends you ever had. ok. O K. (nevermind how depressingly in-the-basement-low the bar is being the number of people he could call friends he's had)

looks like bobby's computer got an upgrade! seems untitled 1 and 2 desktop has made it to the actual desktop 😂

s6e4 weekend at bobby's his 3.1 desktop LOL

okay so hell politics, heaven politics, the clear next step is purgatory politics. who is the boss of the leviathans *pulls out the org chart* (god i just don't care)

sam's hallucinating dean now, great. do not like

DEAN This is real. Not a year ago, not in Hell, now. I was with you when you cut it, I sewed it up! Look!

little gift to wincest kink writers everywhere, dean helping sam by inflicting pain

DEAN Hey. I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay? I’m the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time. You got away. We got you out, Sammy. DEAN Believe in that! Believe me, okay? You gotta believe me. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it. You understand? SAM Yeah. Yeah, okay.

dean looks like he might fall over he's so relieved.

DEAN (on phone) You cannot be in that crater back there. I can’t… If you’re gone, I swear, I am going to strap my Beautiful Mind brother into the car and I’m gonna drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing? Well, not good! Now you said you’d be here. Where are you?

well this is awful. first hallucifer encouraging sam to kill himself repeatedly and now dean saying this. also do not like.

(also very serious things happening and then that cheesy ass special effects on the leviathan's face -_-)

the winchesters getting an ambulance and going to the hospital for an injury, wonders never cease.

[ink-on-the-brink]

Okay yes sorry for like putting in another but my goodness you’re great!! I hope it’s okay if I ask another but like, what would happen if the guys of your choice saw their partner hurt? Platonic or romantic up to you (:

No problem at all! Ideas are always welcome. Especially since I've had a bit of time on my hands! (aka I'm procrastinating on my other stories but shh)

Anyway! Here's Engie, Scout, and Soldier when their S/O is hurt because I put names onto a wheel and they popped up so yeah.

These are gonna be general headcannons that can be taken as either romatic or platonic.

Engie

If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity

Chances are you were messing around with a machine he told you not to touch.

If it's a small injury he'll scold you, telling you to listen to him next time. He won't help you. You have to learn your lesson somehow and if that means you have to drag your way to Medic, embarrassing yourself in the process, then so be it.

If it's a rather big injury he'll be rightfully angry. He's picking you up and carrying you to Medic with a string of mumbled curses at how stupid you had been and that you're lucky he was watching otherwise you might be dead. Even though he's angry you can still see the very clear concern on his face. Once you're all fixed up he's not letting you into his workshop for a while and becomes rather paranoid every time you have to.

He just doesn't want to see you hurt over a machine he built. He would probably never forgive himself if that's the way you ended up dying.

If Hurt By Something Else

Probably while helping him. Grabbing tools, maybe fixing up some wires if you're experienced enough.

Small injuries happen all the time. I mean you're messing around with electric wires and sharp objects here, it isn't exactly the safest thing. He always has an extra medkit in the room and won't hesitate to help you with a small cut or electric burn.

Larger injuries are an entirely different story. He goes blank, immediately carrying you to Medic. He won't leave until he knows you're 100% fine and afterward he'll be deathly quiet. You can see rather clearly that he blamed himself for you getting hurt and that he wasn't about to just forgive himself for it. Afterward he has a hard time letting you help again and finds excuses for you to do something else.

It might just be better if you stick to smaller ways of helping, not just for your own sake, but his.

If Hurt In Battle

If he sees it happen he knows it's better to ignore it. That's what happens in battle and at least during battle you guys have respawn. He'll most likely move his dispenser to where you are to help you out as best he can. He likely won't think twice about what happened...

That is unless whoever hurt you did so in a rather cruel way, enjoying seeing you in pain rather than working to complete an objective.

If that happens the person who harmed you becomes his main target. He won't compromise the battle with the urgency to kill them but it's pretty obvious that given the choice between them and killing anyone else, he'll choose them.

If he were to get close enough, and no one else is around, he'd hurt them and then just kinda sit there, letting them be in pain a moment while he maybe sets up one of his machines. If caught doing this he has about a hundred likely excuses. It was a Spy and he didn't want to deal with his dead ringer, he thought they were dead, another person came along that he had to deal with, pretty much never getting caught for doing it. Basically one of the only things that keeps him calm when he sees you hurt is the thought that he's going to make them suffer later.

Engie's a calm man but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to dish out revenge or hold grudges.

If Hurt By Someone On The Team

Ooooh boy, this isn't going to end well.

It was most likely not meant to be you who got hurt. Being Engies right hand(or left hand rather)meant you always helped him to de-escalate fights. Which meant you were probably only hurt in the crossfire.

That, however, does not stop the anger flowing through Engies veins.

A small thing is enough to get him angry. He rarely yells but in that case he will, silencing everyone immediately before going on an absolute tirade about how stupid they were all being. At this point people would be shocked enough to stop, meaning the goal was achieved but not without some sacrifice.

If you get really harmed though...

Engie's a calm man but he has limits. That just so happens to be one of them. He won't even stop the fight. He's immediately taking you to get fixed up. It's afterward that the consequences come.

He will talk to whoever was involved alone. No one's sure what happens but no matter who ends up seeing that side of Engie they always come out a bit shaken up and not willing to talk about it, though seemingly unharmed.

It's likely to never happen but if it does everyone will become just a little bit more cautious when around him or you.

Scout

If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity

You were trying to toss a baseball as high as you could into the air and catch it to try and impress him.

If it only managed to hit just a little bit of sense into you, aka your throw is weak, then he'll most definitely laugh, telling you to leave it up to the professionals.

If you managed to knock yourself out because your toss was godly but your catch was dogshit then he'd burst out laughing for a good five minutes. It's only after his laughing fit that he thought to help you. You'd have to give him a matching bump to keep his mouth shut about it.

If Hurt By Something Else

You two were probably setting up a prank and something went wrong along the way.

If only a little hurt he'd hold in a laugh and ask if you were alright, to which you'd glare at his hidden grin and say you were fine.

If you were actually hurt he'd go into a bit of a panic, quickly bringing you to Medic. The two of you most defiantly had to lie to get away with what you two had been doing. Unfortunately you were both really bad liars. Medic wasn't convinced but he also didn't care, thankfully.

You'd often bring up how scared he looked when you got hurt every time he tried to act like he didn't care about you that much. It never failed to get his tongue stumbling.

If Hurt In Battle

He's not one to care about a few bumps and scratches. He'll likely tell you to try to be as tough as him(he saids as he calls for medic over a splinter). He sees his job more as a game then a battle so it's rare he holds a grudge against anyone. He's maybe a bit more competitive from that point foward but not obsessively so.

Larger injuries and he's quick (litteraly) to dive into the heat of battle to help. More than often he ends up dead beside you but when he does manage to save you he's super macho about it. He'll say stuff about how much you needed him and how you'd never survive a day without him Even though most of the times you're the one pulling him out of those situations...

Just let him have his moment.

If Hurt By Someone On The Team

It was most definitely because you had annoyed someone, most likely Soldier or Heavy. This happens quite often.

If it looks like you're winning the fight he'll cheer you on. No need for him to get involved if you've got it handled.

If something really starts to go down though, he's on your side. There isn't a time where only one of you was beaten to shit, it always had to be the both of you.

Soldier

If Hurt By Your Own Stupidity

You were trying to rocket jump.

Literally just...Why did you think you could do that?

A small injury and Soldier won't even acknowledge it. Be that a bloody nose or a sprained ankle he's going to act as if you were perfectly fine, mostly because he seldom felt pain anymore and he had a hard time trying to recognize it in other people.

If severely hurt he's most likely going to explain to you everything you did wrong and you'll have to either scream for Medic or wait until he carries you there after his lecture.

You do dumb shit you deal with the consequences.

If Hurt By Something Else

Likely a sparring match that got out of hand or possibly a malfunction of a rather precariosly built weapon.

A small injury and he isn't going to care. If you make a big deal out of it he'll tell you to 'man up' and deal with it though it's more so in good fun rather than antagonism.

A large injury though and he's quick to help. He's calling for Medic and asking you to count how many fingers he's holding up. You'll say three, he'll begin to panic, saying that you must have broken your eyes.

He was, in fact, holding up three fingers...

Just don't question it

If Hurt In Battle

Small injuries are victories to him. If you're not at least a little banged up then are you really in a war?

If you for some reason can't walk though he's the first person at your side. Doesn't matter how many bullets he takes as long as you're brought to safety. He'll say something to the effect of 'don't die on me soldier! No, I am not talking to myself!'

After you're taken care of it's revenge time. He's gonna rack up a killing streak, your injury giving him the last bit of encouragement to win the round most of the time.

If Hurt By Someone On The Team

Defending honor! Whether it's yours or his, you are there to defend it and if that means getting a bit rough in the process then so be it.

If you're less injured than whoever you're fighting then, like Scout, He's cheering you on with probably a few insults to the other person as well.

If it looks more like you're losing he's still not going to intervene. He believes in you! You've got this!

If you end up knocked out though he's going to beat the shit out of whoever it was that defeated you. For your honor! (And because he just likes a reason to beat people up)

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

[bellamyblakru]

recently followed and have been reading all your fics- can I request the bad things bingo “reopening an old wound” with Arthur being too tough to stay in bed like gaius said and Merlin taking care of him 🥺

HELLO OMG. this is so kind🥺thank you for following and reading my fics!! it truly means a lot to me🥺💞 i hope this doesn’t disappoint!! (also you sent this like over a week ago ajsmaja im so sorry it took me so long. i wrote this instead of sleeping tonight just for you😌🙌🏻)

here it is on ao3 and down below!! thank you so much again🥺

Merlin was going to strap Arthur to his bed—and not in the fun way. The dollophead was just so adamant in joining this stupid tournament he was hosting for the dignitaries that came from Nemeth.

“Merlin,” Arthur drawled out in that totally-not-endearing-way he does, “we’ve been over this! I must participate. I am King for a reason! I cannot back down. How would I look to them? Cowardly?” He scoffed at Merlin, who was scowling at the fireplace to refrain from magicking the king to another land for the entirety of the tournament.

“Stop that.” Arthur demanded, coming to sit down next to Merlin.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur huffed, “You’re thinking about doing something illegal to get me out of this.”

Merlin frowned, “No. I wasn’t.”

“Hmhmm,” Arthur sang in disbelief, “I’m sure.”

Merlin sighed in defeat, “Arthur, you just started healing from the hunting accident and you know Gaius will be crossed that you directly went against his advice to stay in bed.”

Arthur folded his arms against his chest, “I’m not scared of going against Gaius, Merlin.”

Merlin smirked, “Now who’s lying?”

Arthur slumped against the front of the chair, “Alright, Gaius can be scary. But I’ve already made up my mind. And if anything does happen to me, you’ll be there anyways, right? What’s to worry about?”

Merlin conceded to that, “Fine, but just know I’ll be mad the entire time.”

Arthur let out a light laugh, placing his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “I can live with that.”

Merlin fake scowled at him, making Arthur laugh again, so, just because he could, he magicked a pillow to hit the King’s face—this led to a very dignified pillow fight that both will profusely refuse happened later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur wouldn’t say he regretted participating per se, but when his shoulder started pounding and, if he looked at it for longer than three seconds, blood may be seeping through his tunic, he can’t really say he was happy with his early choices.

Not that he would tell Merlin this, of course, who was giving him a waterskin with narrowed eyes.

“Arthur.”

“Hmm?” Arthur was staring at the two men fighting in the arena, each wielding quarterstaffs, who were amateur fighters at best.

“You’re favoring your right side, did you know that?”

Arthur’s head snapped to Merlin, “What? No I’m not.”

Merlin scowled at him, “You’re lying!”

Arthur pouted, “No I’m not.”

Merlin gasped, pointing a finger in his chest, “You’re doing it again! Arthur, you have some tells, you know.”

Arthur swatted away the finger, “No I don’t.”

Merlin, the idiot, laughed, “No? You always raise your eyebrows a bit when you lie, sire , and I know this for a fact.”

Arthur frowned, he thought he grew out of that, “No one can ever tell! I have to lie all the time in court and no one ever calls me out!”

Merlin sighed, rather dramatically, “Arthur, they also didn’t spend every godforsaken second for years memorizing your emotions as I did.”

Arthur tilted his head, contemplating that, “Why did you do that?”

That took Merlin off guard, which Arthur had hoped for, giving his servant a sly smile, as Merlin went violently red, a flush coming up from his neck to his ears, “What else was I supposed to do? I look at your face for the majority of the day, Arthur. I’m sure you know all my tells as well.”

Arthur hummed nonchalantly, “Whatever you say, Merlin.”

He did know all of Merlin’s mannerisms and what they meant, but he wasn’t going to say that nor was that his goal here.

Merlin shook his head, the momentarily forgotten anger returning, “That wasn’t the point! You’re hurt!”

At the same time Arthur opened his mouth to lie again, he was called out for his next match. That was his goal—to distract the mother hen of a servant until it was too late.

With a what can you do? shrug, that made Merlin frown more, Arthur quickly spun and walked onto the field, ignoring the burning stare of his worried warlock at his back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Merlin groaned as Arthur won the match, again. The idiot was hurting himself. Merlin could tell by the subtle weight changes to his right side, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes, the way he paled slightly when Gwaine slapped him on the shoulder in congratulations.

He couldn’t believe this was the man he fell in love with. Destiny was a cruel thing indeed.

Merlin watched as Arthur let himself be manhandled by his knights, and Merlin couldn’t help but realize that put the entire gaggle of men in armor between them. Merlin narrowed his eyes at the rather clever tactic by his king.

As if sensing his disappointing glare, Arthur’s eyes found his. At least this time Arthur looked marginally apologetic, but not enough for Merlin’s taste. Was it really so bad that Merlin actually cared for Arthur’s well-being more than a stupid tournament?

He couldn’t fathom this. How was hitting people worth the pain Arthur must be in? Merlin grimaced when Leon slung his arm over the king, who imperceptibly winced at the movement.

When the next round called up, Merlin wanted to slam his head against the fence. Arthur was going against a sorcerer this round, because apparently the Merlin didn’t have enough to worry about as it was.

The sorcerer bounced on her heels, smiling at the king. Arthur smiled back, if not a little perplexed at the bubbly nature of the woman, and they shook hands.

Maybe this won’t go horribly wrong?

But when it began, Merlin recanted his statement vehemently. Of course it would go horribly wrong, it was Arthur he was talking about.

When the woman swung her quarterstaff at Arthur’s injured shoulder with her eyes glowing, Merlin jumped out of his seat. He ran into the field the second the staff hit its mark: Arthur went even more pale, and with a loud pained gasp, let go of his sword, landing roughly on his knees, grasping his shoulder.

Merlin didn’t hesitate. He took a stance between his king and the sorcerer, making Arthur’s blade fly into his own hand.

“Sorry, this ends now,” and with a swing of his sword, his eyes glowing the deepest golden, he attacked. Relentless, hurried, and cursing, Merlin had the woman at sword point in the matter of seconds—without breaking a sweat.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sword, hastily backing away with “I yield, my lord.”

Merlin wasn’t a lord, but he didn’t care to correct her as he handed the sword to Lance and went to Arthur’s side.

“That was a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” Arthur sighed out, pain clearly seen on his face, trying to make eye contact with Merlin.

Merlin grumbled, “Not remotely enough.”

Arthur let out a breathless, and delirious, laugh, “I think I’m bleeding out.”

And before anyone came closer, Merlin’s magic flared up.

The second he looked up, he realized that his magic brought them to Arthur’s chambers. With a small sigh of relief, Merlin made all the armor fall off and lifted Arthur’s tunic from over his head gently—hissing at the reopened wound pouring out blood.

“Arthur! You should have said something,” Merlin scolded, placing his hands of the opening and imagining the skin stitching itself back together—this would hold until Gaius came up and fixed Arthur himself.

Arthur looked at Merlin through clouded eyes, smiling softly, “Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

Merlin couldn’t help but soften at the look on Arthur’s face, “Careful, sire, keep looking at me like that and one could think you were besotted.”

Arthur murmured, “Indeed.”

Merlin was about to say something, not knowing what it would be, when Gaius crashed through the room with his healing bag in tow.

“Thank gods,” Merlin pushed himself out of the way as Gaius worked, helping him move Arthur to his bed when he was all patched up once more.

Arthur was lightly sleeping when Gaius made Merlin swear to magic the king down if he tried to move at all, and when Merlin swore his life on it, the old healer left them to their own devices.

An hour or two later, Merlin still hadn’t left Arthur’s chambers. He was currently sitting besides the king, placing a cool cloth to Arthur’s forehead, running his fingers through the golden sweat-soaked hair.

Merlin was singing softly when Arthur slowly opened his eyes.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur! How do you feel?”

Arthur groaned a little, trying to sit up, as he answered, “Not too good, I have to say.”

Merlin snorted, “Well serves you right. I told you that this was an idiotic plan. Why did you even do it? You have nothing to prove.”

Arthur was quiet for a minute as Merlin placed more pillows under him to make the king more comfortable, “I have everything to prove.”

Merlin sat back, confused, “To who? Camelot already adores you Arthur, and you’ve only been king for less than a year!”

Arthur sighed, leaning his head back, “To you, to myself, to my knights.”

At Merlin’s continued confused silence, Arthur made himself look at him, “To my knights, to show them that I can persevere. To myself, since this was the first tournament as King. And, to you, to show you that your devotion was worth it. That I was worth it.”

Merlin gaped, “Arthur! You have nothing to prove to me. Ever.” but when Arthur scoffed and looked away, Merlin lightly grabbed Arthur’s face and turned it to make Arthur see the truth written in Merlin’s eyes.

“Arthur, you are my king, now and always. I chose you because I knew that you are everything beautiful in this world. I give you my magic, my heart, and my life, because I know, in my soul, that you are the best person I will ever know. I never doubt my devotion to you because you prove time and time again how worthy you are of every title you bear. You are not only the best King to grace this land, but you are the very best of us. I know you, Arthur Pendragon, inside and out—so, please, never doubt your worth to me.”

Merlin lightly rubbed the tear off Arthur’s face that had slipped out, and Merlin muttered, “And if you ever try to fight with a recently closed wound again, after I specifically tell you not to, then I will find a way to strap you here and never let you leave my sight again.”

Arthur let out a small wet laugh at that, grabbing Merlin’s wrist. And while rubbing small circles there, that had Merlin’s pulse quickening, “I don’t know,” Arthur whispered, “when you defended me like that on the field, it was quite attractive. I would have appreciated it more if I hadn’t been bleeding out and delirious.”

Merlin laughed under his breath, “I should apologize to her, huh?”

Arthur shrugged his good shoulder, “You can after.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow, “After what?”

Arthur gave a playful smile as he pulled Merlin into a kiss by his neckerchief. Merlin gasped, quickly reciprocating, a small smile forming at his lips.

And when they pulled back, foreheads resting on each other, Arthur quietly breathed out, “I love you too.”

[fairycosmos]

chloe what do you do when you feel really suicidal? but like not like before- but NOW that you are grieving such a painful loss? dont need to answer but i read your a. to the anon that felt trapped and like they couldnt leave now bc their sibling died too and like you and that anon i feel the same. im so so suicidal chloe. i cry every day and night and i feel despertate but my parents just lost their child so. how do you cope... as much as its possible. what do we do? fuck.

dude i am so sorry you're in the same position as me and you are going to hate me for saying it but there is no satisfactory answer 😔 it's a cruel joke. we're in the worst pain we've ever been in, and our instinct is to want to make that stop. but we can't because now we're obligated to stay alive, where all the hurt is, because we're one of the only ones left. and we dont want to cause more of this feeling by ending it all. it's like a contract you didn't agree to and are now trapped in for the foreseeable. grief is the absolute heaviest thing a person can carry, it's a fucking nightmare. it doesn't make any sense, it doesn't have a cure and it's disorienting as fuck. it's ok to be exhausted by it. reality has been irreparably  worsened and it's an absolute tragedy,  it's completely unfair. personally i'm more suicidal than i've ever been, but like you, i know i'm not going to do anything.  and in moments of great pain, where i want to act on those thoughts, i find myself coming back to that fact. i watch the idea of suicide run its course through my head and then i acknowledge the reality of things, that i can't leave. that it doesn't matter how sad i am and how tired i am, because i'm still here, and processing these emotions is a part of that. the urge to kill myself is there, but the actual act of suicide has never been less of an option than it is right now. so i can feel whatever i need to feel, but there's no point leaning into it or daydreaming about it. because it's not going to happen. sometimes i'm screaming and crying to myself in absolute agony while this is all going on, and sometimes i'm just sitting staring at my phone, numb. the desperation is very real, and i understand that. but it is not as urgent as it feels in the moment. no matter how many times i think i'm at my limit, i know that there's going to be tomorrow. and at the moment that sounds like a really bad thing. but i know that by waking up my parents aren't getting a call saying i'm dead, which for now is kind of the whole point. i am living to minimize their trauma, i am living for them, and an optimist would have hope that that could keep me alive long enough until i get to the point where i can eventually live for myself again. i could definitely see that for your future, even if you can't. the thing is you don't have to know what to do and you dont have to look for ways to fill the void that has been left behind by your sibling. you just have to learn to exist alongside it, and i do mean just exist. as awful as it is. waking up, putting one foot in front of the other, crying and crying and crying. that is good enough. i know it doesn't feel like much of a life, but. it's the short term answer, or so it seems to me. another thing i remind myself of is how it all comes in waves. waves are the nature of both grief, and strong suicidal urges. maybe they're always running in the background, but the moments of pure despair where you feel like you're bursting at the seams, they're so strong and harsh that they flare out faster than you realize. and they feel unbearable, and i know those moments are very frequent when you're in our position, but it's good to remember that the intensity of their nature makes them temporary.  especially if the grief is fresh, every little thing triggers an avalanche of hopelessness.  but some part of me believes these experiences will either a. become less persistent with time or b. become a part of us we learn how to navigate.  at the moment, the simple act of being completely broken by these episodes means you're surviving them. i think it's not a matter of knowing how to cope, but knowing that if you're here to ask these questions - what do i do, how do i go on, etc - then that is proof you have been coping. and it probably doesn't feel like you have been. i think there's a common misconception that coping is thriving, letting go, having positive memories. and sure that's a part of it. but there is a lot of darkness and absolute horror to work through before that. additionally,  there is no rule book on how exactly to work through it. theres just time, experience, learning what works for you and hanging on. i'm trying to hold my own hand through it, i'm trying to look at the present moment i'm in and just think about what i need at that very second.  not what i'm going to do tomorrow, not what i should've done yesterday, but what i have to do right now to make it through.  a lot of the time the answer is nothing, and i just sit and stare or cry, because like i said, ultimately nothing can fix it. theres no epiphany that can change what happened. 

as far as practical things you can to do combat suicidal thoughts goes, i have a few suggestions that i really hope you consider as viable choices: talk to your doctor/therapist - idk where you live or what your financial situation is like, but if it's at all an option i would really urge you to seek professional help. at least let your GP know what you're dealing with so maybe they can refer you to a therapist, or give you some mental health resources. grief counselling is also a step in the right direction. having someone to talk to and implementing positive coping mechanisms into your day to day life, even if it's the last thing on earth you want to do, can work wonders. understanding your own suicidal thoughts, why you react the way you do and what you can do about it, can really come in handy when you're breaking down. it's ok to reach out. it's ok to visit different counsellors until you find one that fits you. it's ok to treat your emotional turmoil as seriously as you'd treat any physical disease. there is always support and treatment options available in some form, and it is always worth looking into.

call a (grief or suicide) hotline - i've had the hotline number open in my browser for days. if you are in a moment of crisis, it can absolutely help to have someone talk you through your emotions, listen to your pain, and then give you some gentle recommendations as to what you should do next or where to go from here. you don't have to tell them your name, you don't have to say anything you don't want to say. you're in control of the call and they care about keeping you going. you're not alone. theres also online grief support groups - i'm in a sibling loss group on fb.  it's absolutely crazy how many people are in this position. 

talk to your parents/family/friends - i know saying 'this is a tough one' is a giant understatement.  idk if it's the same for you, but i've been isolating to cope and i don't want to tell anyone what i'm thinking because they're already having such a hard time grieving my sister. but if there's anyone you trust, i just want you to know it's alright to lean on them. it's up to you how much you open up, but the urge to keep to yourself leads nowhere. those around you can relate (to an extent) with your grief, and sharing it, talking about memories and crying together - it's fucking awful, god it's the worst thing ever, but it's necessary. and i don't want to say it helps, but a shared burden is always better than trying to shoulder it alone. you deserve to be listened to and supported. and if you think you're being an inconvenience to your loved ones, that's your inner self hatred talking. they would likely rather be there for you when you need it, than have you harm yourself because you kept it all pent up. it's a lot easier said than done, but it's important to keep in mind that it's an option.

try to create a safe space - try to remove things from your living space you could use to harm yourself with, and make the environment as comforting as possible. refer back to safe coping mechanisms/ distractions that have worked in the past - this can be as simple as going for a walk, watching stupid shit on your phone, meditation, having a crying session, writing to your sibling or just about how you feel in general. these are not suggestions that will solve anything or cure mental illness by any stretch of the imagination.  they just get you out of your head. that can really make a difference. 

create a crisis plan and learn what triggers you - this is a bit of a process but that's alright. being able to identify what sets you off, and being able to recognize your own toxic thinking patterns/behaviours, is the first step towards combatting them. another idea is, if you do end up talking to a loved one or a mental health professional, come up with a plan with them regarding what they should do when you're suicidal and your judgement is impaired. you can even start by just making one for yourself, like writing down a few suggestions as to what you should do when you're in a crisis, what your other options besides suicide are. 

i think that's all i've got right now. i'm sorry this got so long, especially when i know nothing truly helps. i just know what it's like having all this useless life in front of you that you're going to have to fight through without the one person who always should've been there. i keep thinking about what she'd say to me if she could see me, and i know she'd be livid if i threw my life away, but. that doesn't change the fact that she didn't get to live hers, and that i miss her so so much it aches. i keep coming back to the idea that our relationship will continue to grow beyond  death. i can still talk to her, reminisce  with her, understand her, love her. so much of this reality was shaped by her. it's not the same as when she was here, but it's not total absence  either.  anyway, i'm so so sorry for your loss and i hope you can just focus on taking care of yourself, love. because your life still has so much worth and you deserve to see your own future even if you cant stand the thought. moments of happiness and peace are still 100% possible. it's just never going to feel like it did before. and it's ok if you spend the rest of your life struggling to come to terms with that fact, because at least you got to live the rest of your life. i'm sending so much love to you and i'll be here if you need a friend. one day at a time.

*no pressure to read all this you can just refer back to it whenever you feel the need

[generouscoffeelove]

THE UNASSEMBLED WORDS

Things not always go your way they never even stay the same but you can make your mind to go with the flow u can make yourself to work within the things but sometimes it's hard to face the reality sometimes you are not ready to accept the situation, we all are never mature enough that we cant cry crying makes your mind healthy but overthinking only leads to depression and stress. People will say whatever will come in their mind but it's not always necessary to carefully listen to their opinions. 

When you are determined to achieve something and deep down you know that the path you chose is right for you then no one can divert our mind from those guts. People will depress you, they will tell you that u r wrong and their opinions are right bcz they can't see a person becoming more successful than they themselves. Nowadays no one is more sincere to you than your parents, not even your relatives.

Sometimes I think about the day when I will achieve my dreams but then what if I have no more plans to move on ? what if i get the person i love but what after that ? as i will be near to it i will forget the hurdles and all the things i lost on the path towards my goal. Man is greedy, his requirements can never be completed bcz he wants more & more. If u want to get to ur dreams u have to listen to yourself only u dont care about the people and even if u hurt them u have no problem but then comes the deceiving part where u think that following your dreams might separate your family from u this fear of losing someone really special in ur life makes ur way turn back. I think it's the law of life u cant live happily if the people around u r sad. A person like me sometimes thinks that leave everything and go get whatever u want but in the end u have to come back. U will never forget where u belong and thats how u feel the existence of love.

 The first love relations with you are of the same blood. But how can u fall for someone so badly ? How can you love someone out there in this world more than those people who raised you ? This love can be of two types. The love relation with Allah and secondly the other with one of his people. How weird it is to think that we pray to get someone else in our lives instead of praying to get Allah’s affection. To be honest, pray for it and you will get the things you love automatically even if you love someone so badly. First put this in your mind that excess of everything is bad. It's only Allah who will give u everything and will never upset u but the people around u can love u the most but can also give u the pain that u cant bear. 

Everything happens for good. Maybe someone in your past who deceived you was there by Allah’s choice to make you strong and to make you prepared that nobody is there with you forever. People will always stay in search to get ur weak points but staying close to Allah will hide all of those mistakes on ur side which u made unexpectedly or even if u knew u should pray to be forgave and he will forgive u try to pray from the core of your heart. Nothing is more peaceful than crying in sujood bcz that is the moment when u feel hopeless and u dont have words to describe the society around u that how u feel. I faced a lot of times when i was compared and i was insulted but all i used to do was to stay silent and secretly in the heart say “ Ya Allah u should answer them”. Sometimes its good to stay quiet bcz the silence makes the people go crazy. The silence is breaked automatically by Allah. He himself shows the people that u were wrong.

 Not always u have to stay silent but when u r being doubted for a wrong reason or the person saying is crossing the limits listen 3 times but the 4th time smack his face. Bcz they deserve it. From my perspective rules should be for everyone, and the strictness u faced should also be embossed on the coming kids. It's not right to scold or insult someone in the middle where everyone is sitting bcz it makes you stressed and this is the fact where suicidal thoughts start to enclave even a young mind. I dont why im even writing this but the point is that i really don't want anyone to interfere in our lives and not even to scold us bcz they dont live with us they don't face the things we are facing right now, they cant live a week with us but after all they are right and they will never like to meet a person with empty pockets. To every individual on this planet earth, money is everything and money can buy happiness even. People will embrace you till the day u have money but the day u fall a little they will not even ask that are u ok or do u need any help. 

Life will change so will the people but the real face of people can only be seen when you stand in a tough time and they turn their backs away from you. We lived a great past life, we went to restaurants, we ate mcdonalds and shopped etc. so what everybody does when they have money. People should really look into themselves and then say a word to other people. At the end i would like to share a small verse with huge meaning from Quran that:

 In surah alam nashra

            “Beshak har mushkil ke baad asani hai”

            “Indeed after every hard time there’s good time”

People will stay with you till you are useful to them. the day u fall in need of help, some will help u only those who were sincere to u maybe it can be those people whom u never even noticed or they were not even in priority but they stand with u, they come into your life as angels. Because you wanted them and they were to be in your life by the grace of Allah. 

As you grow up u learn through experiences u learn to stand after crawling but not at once u fall u cry and then u get up, u stand at ur own. As a kid, u are learning actually u are learning throughout your life; from people and mistakes. U are not living until u fail.

 U learn to live through love and failures. Love is the road which can give u the best memories to laugh and cry on, but the bumps can give u those bruises and wounds which will heal but the pain will last forever. The time is cruel after u lose someone u love, and even more when the loved one becomes part of your routine. U cannot live without food as well as love. It's easy to console the broken person but it's not possible to feel the pain as that person is feeling. During this time the emotions are at level best of depression and stress if u cant be nice to them then better stay away bcz they can even harm themselves.

Love is very important in life. If u love someone but can’t tell bcz of some fear.

The fear can be of being rejected or it can be the matter of pride. The matter of our reputation is very sensitive, especially for a girl. A small mistake can break the entire reputation which was made from long and hard work. But people will only bring up the flaws bcz they need a topic to talk on. More importantly,the thing that matters is peace with the reputation u hold, if u have reputation and money but u still feel alone u are not fine. 

The hardest part in life is to live without the person whom you cry for days and nights but you can't tell bcz u are afraid of losing the reputation u hold. It's not wrong but it's killing u deep inside. U keep smiling but its only breaking you. It's funny cuz u are ruining yourself. Less to be worried bcz u are being destroyed by love. The part that hits hard and it's all about fate. Being compared to a less experienced person is bad bcz u know that the person hasn't faced any of the circumstances as u did.

“A dream is a wish that your heart makes”

For loving someone you don't have to be perfect. U dont have to change yourself bcz u know that person will accept u no matter what. This is the belief that love brings into our soul. Love happens; it never asks you who I should be with. It's the beauty and the magic of eyes which makes u staring. A fact says that if a person misses you they appear in your dream and if you think about someone alot it means that person was thinking about you first. I believe a lot in these facts bcz they happen a lot. The real fun and peace in love is by burning in the fire of awareness. U keep waiting for the other person to make a move but what to do if the other person is waiting for u. 

Okay, I know I'm talking rubbish right now. It's currently 3:14 a.m. and I'm unable to sleep. I'm not in the mood to write in my diary so it's better to keep on writing to keep yourself busy. Life is not in the mood to study all i want to do is to explode up and cry i know why but tears seem to be dried and i no longer have emotions my mind just wants to fall into midnight in a deep conversation with myself or with a trustworthy my heart seems to beat for some reasons that keep giving me the same tensions which i want to remove. It feels like my soul is whirling like a storm. I don't know what to do to scream or to cry or to stay awake or sleep. Sometimes i just want to stay up and think about my future and the choices I'm making but i don't have leisure time. 

Hard times will not stay with you forever but at every point of ur life they will make u realize that don't forget where u belong and what u survived in ur past. U can never forget your past bcz ur weakness makes u strong. It's better not to expect alot from people. They can bring u disappointment only or a bit of what u were expecting. U cant eat when ur hands are tied u have to make a move to eat and feed your hunger nobody else is going to do this for you.

 Be independent. It's an easy sentence with two words to say but it requires all of your life to be courageous enough to face the coming hurdles. U are going to face many challenges .

“if ur life got harder congratulations !! u just leveled up”.

 Smile even if there are 1000 reasons not too but this time during these days it seems to me as if I'm the shining star alone in the sky where clouds are trying to dull my spark but i keep shining the clouds hide me but then i come back. The mechanism of nature also teaches you many lessons of life. If you think deeply, the sun teaches you that after every dusk there is dawn. The sky can't show the glitter of stars without night. The moon tells you it's good to go through phases. The black clouds teach u that when u are loaded after going through many stages its ok to let everything pour out through tears. The average rain can bring happiness to the beings on earth they will feel calm but if it rains more than normal it destroys the belongings of human.Similarly, if we cry normally it freshens our mind but the excess of it leads to depression and damage of internal conditions and peace.

“Excess of everything is bad”

I don't know when girls felt peaceful in their lives, enjoyed and cherished the most beautiful moments of their lives. All the time they have to worry about something even if it's health,dressing,family,friends or some sort of harassment. She cant feel free to live. Talking to a male about life and studies is a crime and is considered something related to flirting and to be feel ashamed on. Something for which the parents can't speak on if they want to. The people thinking in this way for someone's daughter should think that in future they will also have daughters and what if this will happen to them. If today you consider someone else your daughter or sister honestly u have a peaceful and beautiful future.

But if u see girls as some material to be used and thrown u were born to be wrong then even if u say urself muslim or human look at ur habits and inner person it is more worse than animal. You have to change yourself first to change the people around you.

[rpmemes-galore]

Rupi Kaur  . . .  sentence starters

“ to be soft is to be powerful. “

“ never feel guilty for starting, again. “

“ and here you are, living despite it all. “

“ what i miss most is how you loved me. “

“ when my heart is broken, i don't grieve. “

“ i have survived far too much to go quietly. “

“ people go,  but how they left always stays. ”

“ do not question whether you were enough. “

“ ... ’cause people have not been kind to me. “

“ it's about how honest you are with yourself. “

“ at the end of the day, all this means nothing. “

“ you must never trade honesty for relatability. “

“ love will hurt you, but love will never mean to. “

“ this rage is the one thing i get from my father. “

“ how is it so easy for you to be kind to people? “

“ you teach her to confuse anger with kindness. “

“ it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations. “

“ you are every hope i've ever had in human form. “

“ you're everywhere except right here... and it hurts. “

“ stay strong through your pain. grow flowers from it. ”

“ i am a museum full of art, but you had your eyes shut. “

“ he didn't call me beautiful first. he called me exquisite. “

“ our backs tell stories no books have the spine to carry. “

“ you have sadness living in places sadness shouldn’t live. “

“ loneliness is a sign you are in desperate need of yourself.”

“ do not look for healing at the feet of those who broke you. “

“ i was not made with a fire in my belly so i could be put out. “

“ how you love yourself is how you teach others to love you. “

“ why is it that when the story ends, we begin to feel all of it? “

“ i used to dream of being so strong nothing could shake me. “

“ you must want to spend the rest of your life with yourself first. “

“ i don't blame you for not knowing how to remain soft with me. “

“ the thing about writing is: I can't tell if it's healing or destroying. “

“ i hardened under the last loss. it took something human out of me. “

“ i am water... soft enough to offer life, tough enough to drown it away. “

“ you tell me to quiet down cause my opinions make me less beautiful. “

“ you do not just wake up and become the butterfly. growth is a process. “

“ now, i am so strong that nothing shakes me. and all i dream is to soften. “

“ you cannot leave and have me, too. i cannot exist in two places at once. “

“ i am hopelessly a lover and a dreamer... and that will be the death of me. “

“ the kindest words my father said to me: ‘ women like you drown oceans ‘. “

“ you give and give ‘til they pull everything out of you and leave you empty. “

“ the world gives you so much pain and, here you are, making gold out of it. “

“ i have what i have and i am happy. i’ve lost what i’ve lost and i am still happy. “

“ your body is a museum of natural disasters. can you grasp how stunning that is? “

“ i do not want to have you to fill the empty parts of me. i want to be full on my own. “

“ if you were born with the weakness to fall, you were born with the strength to rise. “

“ what is stronger than the human heart which shatters over and over and still lives? “

“ you don't see the person they are, you see the person they have the potential to be. “

“ do not bother holding onto that thing that does not want you. you cannot make it stay. “

“ so bloom beautifully, dangerously, loudly. bloom softly, however you need. just bloom. ”

“ despite knowing they won’t be here for long, they still choose to live their brightest lives. “

“ isn’t it such a tragic thing? when you can see it so clearly, but the other person doesn’t? “

“ i was made heavy, half blade and half silk, difficult to forget and not easy for the mind to follow. “

“ a lot of times we are angry at other people for not doing what we should have done for ourselves. “

“ that is the thing about selfish people: they gamble entire beings, entire souls, to please their own. “

“ i didn't leave because i stopped loving you, i left because the longer i stayed, the less i loved myself.”

“ i didn't know why i split myself open for others, knowing sewing myself up hurts this much afterward... “

“ i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautiful before i’ve called them intelligent or brave. “

“ you might not have been my first love, but you were the love that made all other loves seem irrelevant. “

“ i am sorry i made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is all you have to be proud of. ”

“ i don’t know what living a balanced life feels like. when i am sad i don’t cry, i pour. when i am happy i don’t smile, i glow. when i am angry i don’t yell, i burn. “

“ for you to see beauty here does not mean there is beauty in me. it means there is beauty rooted so deep within you, you can't help but see it everywhere. “

“ from now on, i will say things like you are resilient, or you are extraordinary... not because i don’t think you’re beautiful, but because i need you to know you are more than that. “

“ nothing even matters except love and human connection. who you loved and how deeply you loved them,  how you touched the people around you and how much you gave them.”

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 4: To exist (Part 6)

Warnings: mention of drugs

Author notes: debate about how I depicted Yōko’s condition in the 4th part is opened! More seriously, this is one long part, but I hope you’ll like it. To be honest, that part was the one which made me so nervous about the chapter... Don’t hesitate to give me your opinion! Also, I realised I liked reblogs too! ^^

It was night when I woke up. The first thing I noticed in the darkness was the thing pressed onto my face. An oxygen mask. It was not there before. Had my body tried to give up on me again? After all, I was not supposed to be alive... And Lord was I thirsty. The tips of my fingers moved and I looked for the pager to call the nurse, who fortunately was never far from the infirmary. She turned on a small light and came to the side of my bed. I pointed to the breathing machine.

"Your oxygen saturation suddenly dropped while you were sleeping… Your body still needs to recover from the overdose, after all... Not to mention that nasty pneumonia… Hopefully, you are fine." She explained.

"I..." My voice was husky, but I could talk "What…?"

Morphine overdose…? Pneumonia…? What about my ability…?

"I'll bring you some water." She smiled "You are recovering just fine. Your body is trying to hold on."

I requested to sit up by myself, and slowly raised my back from the mattress to take the cup of water in my shaking hands. Feebly, I brought it to my mouth, and drank, absolutely relishing in the sensation of hydration.

"That's good." She complimented me "You should have some rest now."

"Wait…" I still had some trouble breathing "What exactly… What exactly killed me…?"

"Although it is clear your ability made you suffer, Ogawa-san, the thing that almost took your life today was morphine…" She sighed "And I even told you to be careful…"

"I don't understand…"

"It caused a severe respiratory depression." She explained "It means you could not breathe anymore, which made your oxygen saturation drop tremendously…"

"But… My headache… My fatigue… The pain… The coughing, even…!"

"Muscle pains and intracranial hypertension — your headache — are after effects of morphine. The fact you could not sleep first caused your headache, of course, but also made you weak, which is why you somehow caught pneumonia. That explains the coughing. As I said, we can't deny your ability was highly involved, but all that pain was increased by the drug." She explained "Only, you were never diagnosed because… You would never come for anything other than being stitched up like a ragged cloth…"

"... I see…" I looked down "I see…"

"Ogawa-san…" She took my hand into her "It isn't your fault…"

"No, indeed… I… I was just stupid… I caused this… I'm such a fool…"

Tears fell onto the sheets but I did not mind. All that pain… I had inflicted it myself.

"And… Dazai-san..." I exhaled "Is he... Is he alright...?"

The few words and reactions I could have witnessed when being awake had clearly indicated he did feel some guilt, inside. I did not want him to think it was his fault I was dying; it was all just a mistake I had committed.

"That stubborn child refused to leave..." She sighed "He constantly kept an eye on you and was the first one to notice the drop of your saturation. I... Think this accident made him reflect on himself."

"I don't know..." I looked down, only to finally notice he was still there, asleep with his head on the bed.

"That's only my opinion..." The nurse shrugged "He never let go of you, fearing you would wake up if his ability did not cancel yours."

"It's untrue..." I refused to believe it "He... He doesn't care... He is just putting on an act... As soon as I get better, he will... Again..."

Just imagining him beating me up again was enough to stress me out, and the monitor's rhythm increased with my heartbeat. Waking him up.

"Nurse, there is a —"

He saw me, and did not finish his sentence.

"You must calm down..." The nurse advised, laying me back "We will talk it out after your recovery. For now, you must not be anxious about anything."

"What's the point in recovering if I have to come back after...?" I murmured.

"What's going on...?" My superior looked at the nurse.

"Nothing you should care about for the moment. But, understand her nervousness... And I share her concern. Why are you suddenly nice toward Ogawa-san?" She frowned "It is not my business, but the bruises I wrapped up for her speak for themselves."

"... My hand must have slipped while I was dozing off..." He dodged the matter "I'll cancel your ability again, Ogawa-kun."

"Why...?" I avoided his touch "Why now? Why are you even here? What are you trying to make me believe?"

"... Is that how you see me? A liar...?" He looked upset.

"Not a liar. A puppeteer." I confessed, sincerely terrified "I can't understand what you think... I can only think about your ulterior motives, always, always... I am afraid of being played with..."

"I've never tried to manipulate your feelings to gain your loyalty..." He defended.

"Stop this nonsense, please… Manipulating… You do that all too well…! You do that all the time…"

"Ogawa-kun… Not with you…"

"Why did you praise me so randomly once, just to beat the crap out of me the next day, then?" I started sobbing "I don't understand... Do you just hate me...?"

"I don't hate you...! Obviously I don't hate you..."

"Then, am I too weak...?"

"That's not it..."

The nurse had left, most certainly to let us talk alone.

"What is it, then? Are you just bipolar...?! Or am I insane...?"

"I just wanted to train you... I wanted to make you stronger so you did not die... I honestly never noticed I was the one killing you." Dazai-san lowered his head "It's embarrassing, but I did not know about your pain, about your addiction... Until yesterday. Am I not a useless executive...? Had I done something… Had I done something, perhaps you never would have ended in such a state."

"... Right now..." I gripped onto the sheets "I am not sure whether you are acting or being sincere... I'm sorry, Dazai-san..."

"I don't want you to die!" He said, more willingly "I don't want you to die... Being tough and merciless was the actual act... I wanted you to grow accustomed to the Mafia... I wanted you to cast away your emotions, not to be morally struggling with decisions... I wanted to toughen you up, so you would resist against the enemies, so you would be mentally strong... But the only thing I managed to create was a machine, expert in torture and assassination, who does the job without a glance behind, who sheds blood with no hesitation, who looks down on pain... In a way, I obtained what I wanted, but... It isn't you. It isn't the girl who cried for attention that I first met. When I look at you and see fear, hatred, disgust and resentment in your eyes, I can't help thinking I did something wrong... But I could not understand what... Until you told me you wanted me to kill you. At this moment, I knew that nothing I had attempted with you would work. I've recently come to realise I was only hurting you... Forcefully making you face such violence, trying to mould you into the perfect subordinate... I have to admit it was a mistake. I can't believe I am the one who turned off that flickering yet bright flame of life in your eyes, whereas... Whereas it shone so warmly..."

It was understandable that someone who yearned to end his life would be fascinated by someone willing to live. That I was the one he was drawn to, however, was surprising. His words made me doubt as well. Indeed, since when had I become such a cold-hearted person? Since when had I killed without even a thought for the victim? Since when had I looked so eagerly for the worst methods of torture? I suddenly remembered how reluctant I had been to join the Port Mafia, how I had pretended to prefer dying... Since when had I lost my will to stay alive?

"You always repeat that the weak must die… I am weak, then why won't you let me leave? I questioned, curtly.

"Because... Because I want you to fetch me a cup of coffee, I want you to classify the paperwork for me...!" He sounded like a child about to throw a tantrum "The office... It felt less empty with you inside..."

"Now, you're just being difficult…" I looked away "I want to believe you, Dazai-san, I really want to. However… You've so often changed your mind and I am tired. I can't afford to be deceived anymore… I don't want to be disappointed in someone anymore…"

"... I know..." Dazai-san's eyes focused on his feet "I understand... It leaves an empty hole in your chest, you don't know what to think anymore... I know that... I didn't think I would make you feel that way, nonetheless..."

"You... You understand my point...?" I frowned.

"Of course... People are never what they seem. You, for example, look strong, determined, yet you are so sick you could die at any moment. People tell sweet lies in front of you, yet curse you when you are not looking. I know that..." He chuckled bitterly "Perhaps the problem comes from me... Perhaps am I a failure of a human being, tired of living, but mostly —"

"Afraid of your fellows…" I stared at him, finally understanding "You're afraid of us… And you don't know how to behave around me… That's why you seem so lunatic…"

"Do you hate me for that...? No, such a question... It is obvious you would hate me..."

"I've already told you… There are many people who do that better than me…" I paused to catch my breath "I don't hate you, Dazai-san. In fact, I pity you… And I feel… A bit stupid…"

I had believed Dazai-san was purposely rough and contemptuous toward me, because he did not like me, because I was too weak, because I was worthless. In fact... In fact, whereas he did not like me, he did not loathe me either, and that alone was enough to appease me. There was some place for me by his side, as a subordinate. I could keep serving him, obeying his commands, and he would not mind. If only I would not die... I could have strived to understand the pain gnawing at him from the inside, I could have tried to comprehend his feelings, instead of detesting him as I had done. At the very least, toughening me up had permitted me to survive in the cruel world of darkness the Port Mafia belonged to.

"What you did was undeniably wrong… You can't teach one if you use violence… Hitting me, abusing me, harassing me… Nothing can ever erase this fact… If I cannot forget, then, at least, I can try to forgive. You are the reason I survived so far, and for that I am grateful."

"You shouldn't be grateful that I treated you so brutally..."

"To be honest…" I recalled my time by his side, not without a tinge of bitterness "I really wanted to strive, to be a proper subordinate, worthy of being the protege of the infamous Demon Prodigy's… I guess I wanted to be useful, somehow, for once in my life. I wanted to exist, to be acknowledged as a human being. You did that, though… You treated me as a human being, although it was not ideal. You did not ignore me, at least. Thank you, Dazai-san, for making me feel alive, even if it was short."

"I don't deserve your thanks… But you're welcome…" He avoided my look.

"What are you afraid of? From me, I mean?"

"Huh…?"

"What could I do to harm you? What could I say to hurt you? Scheming against you? You would find out immediately. Talking behind your back? Many people do that. Besides, I've always been honest about you; I can't stand you. Well, I couldn't…" I mumbled "So… Why?"

"Why, indeed… It's not just about you…"

"I know… I'm not asking you to trust me… I just want to know that, if you need a loyal subordinate, you have one."

"Ogawa-kun… You can't mean it, not after everything I've done…"

"Oh but I do mean it. It is my way to redeem myself, too."

"... What do you mean…?"

I avoided his eyes for a moment, strangely unable to face the inquisitive and somewhat hopeful expression he wore. Why did he have to look so childish? So harmless? Although… He had not always acted like a cold adult man… All the times he had bickered with Nakahara-san, all the times he had dropped the mask of toughness to smile at me, even faintly, and that one time he had sounded relieved when I had recovered from the wounds inflicted by Gustavo Cosola… In fact, I had never paid attention to him, despite the warning Oda-san had given me. I did not understand him, nor did I know him. Dazai-san had troubles and I had forgotten that under the armour of the Demon Prodigy was hidden a small, terrified sixteen years old child, who strangely resembled me. Behind a wall of mercilessness, we were just teenagers who had grown up too quickly and had been thrown without concern in a world of adults, forced to become adults ourselves and to carry the immense burden of death upon our shoulders.

"I was too selfish…" I muttered "Too centered on myself. I did not see that it wasn't easy for you either…"

"Ogawa-kun…" He sighed "I have to confess something, since you're honest with me; everything I did was to train you… But I would lie if I said I never took my frustration out on you. On bad days, or only to hide my weakness, I beat you up without caring about your improvement. The light that shone in your eyes… Yes, there were times I wanted to turn it off. How dared you hold onto life? How could you believe in tomorrow? Break, cry, fall into despair or die being worthless, these were my actual thoughts."

"What do you hope to achieve by telling this to me?" I asked simply.

"I wanted to see if you would loathe me, now."

"Dazai-san… I knew all that. I mean, it was obvious you had some stress to let out." I tilted my head "The only thing I really resent you for is not teaching me to control my ability properly… For the rest… Now that I am going to die, anyway, there is no point in holding a grudge against you. I'd rather leave peacefully…"

"But I don't want you to leave…" A sort of pout formed on his lips "I don't want to lose you…"

"Losing me…?" I huffed, amused "I am not a toy for you to play with… I can't be lost. Besides, you merely need me to serve as furniture for your office. I may have given you my loyalty, Dazai-san, but I haven't given up on my pride as a human being. Do remember that, please."

He sighed. Heavily. Was he annoyed? Was he tired of me?

"I am ready to take my responsibilities. Weak people die, but you don't belong to them. You are my subordinate and you know I don't allow my men to be weak." He stood up, crossing his arms "You won't die, because I decided so."

"My body is in no state to fight…" I argued "I have pneumonia and I am a morphine addict. I can't sleep and my immune system has already collapsed a long time ago. What do you expect me to do? Besides, you have another protege… From what I heard, he is much more useful than me."

"I expect you to recover." He faced me, the usual Port Mafia executive replacing the distressed child "And, about Akutagawa-kun… He has no idea what his ability is made for, don't compare the two of you. You two have different strengths."

"But he succeeds where I am powerless." I stated "He —"

"He is a blade without a sheath. I need to control him in order to make him the most powerful ability user of the Port Mafia. When that day comes, he will be, without a doubt, the organisation's greatest asset. For now, however, he is nothing but an untamed dog."

"Dazai-san… You hate dogs…" I remarked, feeling sorry for Akutagawa-kun.

"What you lack in physical strength, you compensate with that." He pressed a finger to my forehead without paying attention to my words "You learnt what I taught you, what I could never teach him. That is why you are a valuable subordinate in my squadron, because I can trust your wit, because I know that you are able to replace me."

"I could never, Dazai-san…!" I protested "I am nowhere near you…!"

"That's right. But you are above the others, and that is all that matters. You can lead in my stead if needed. Mmh, it's actually better to keep you alive." He seemed to think aloud "There are more pros than cons…"

"I am not a tool…" I reminded him, vexed.

"No, you are my subordinate." He agreed.

In his mouth, it did not sound too different…

"Oh~ It could be interesting, giving you Yamada-san's seat…~" He mumbled, walking around the bed in deep thought "But then you couldn't be on the field anymore… What to do~? I want to see that idiot's disappointed face…~"

"What does it matter, anyway? Can I even fight again with that body? Just give me paperwork if all you need is my brain…" I groaned.

"You will fight again." He declared "Why couldn't you? Just rest and take your treatment. It is a matter of time before you are physically back on your feet, anyway. And give up on morphine; I'll grant you sleep from now on."

"Dazai-san!" I burst, unable to hold it in any longer "Did… Did you even pay attention when we were talking…? Were you even sincere…?!"

His fist hit the wall, suddenly, and I jumped in fear. I had given him my loyalty, I had been honest with him… Had he manipulated me again…? He did not move. His back was toward me. I was about to say something when a small detail caught my attention. His hand, the one that had punched the wall, was trembling. He let it fall to his side.

"You must be useful…" He hissed between his teeth "I have to find some use in you, even while you are recovering…"

The bandage covering his skin was slowly reddening as he muttered incoherent words and I sighed. I understood, although too late again.

"There is… There is a position I can occupy, even in this bed…" I spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence "If my presence serves a purpose, the Port Mafia won't need to get rid of me."

"What is it…?" He slowly turned around.

"I believe a lieutenant is still missing in your squadron, Dazai-san. Until I recover, I could lead the men from afar and take care of lower missions for you. Then, once I am better and able to fight, I can accompany them directly." I suggested "Besides, it will drastically decrease your paperwork… Which is at your advantage, isn't it?"

I cracked a small smile and waited for his response. He really did not want me to die, that I was sure of. However, the organisation did not care about damaged goods. If I did not prove myself to be more than a disposable pawn, an order to abandon me would be given, forcing my superior to either eliminate me or let me rot somewhere. In both cases, I would die.

"A lieutenant… It is true that I don't have that." He held his chin a second "Very well, I shall promote you. After all, I never got to reward you properly for your contribution to the fight against the Sicilian Mafia."

He gave me an understanding smirk, and I nodded, accepting the offer.

"Thank you, Dazai-san. I will strive not to disappoint you."

"Good. Take a week off for your initial recovery, then I will send the first piles of paperwork to you."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Also… Odasaku may or may not visit you later… I remember he knows a cheap yet clean place not far from the headquarters." He added, heading toward the door "Ask him about it, I'm sure he'll be glad to answer you. Dust is bad for your lungs."

I chuckled once he exited the infirmary, and laid back on the bed. There I was, alive, already impatient to discover the paperwork he had promised. It was a good feeling, breathing, even if I still felt uncomfortable. I did not want to die anymore. There were still things I needed to do and a superior somehow counting on me. I could not let him down… And I wanted to see the sun set on Yokohama once again.

It was wonderful to exist again.

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[sneyrwrites]

|6| Ace| Levi Ackerman x Reader

✘ Ace: Separation ✘

|Wordcount: 5897 | |Ch.1: ✘ | |Previous: ✘  

Almost six months had passed since Maria fell. We left 845 behind, and 846 begun.

The government had transferred most of the refugees into farms to harvest resources, and luckily for me I had to move to the same place than the kids and Armin’s grandfather.

Mikasa, Eren and Armin got really close to me, and the same happened to me. I had no doubt in my heart that I would give y life to ensure they were safe. Which was kinda hard given the fact that they still wanted to enlist, Eren was almost counting the days, Mikasa and Armin ready to follow his lead. In my eyes they were still babies, on the verge of turning  11 years old. So, How could they possibly understand the dangers they were going to face head on?

Hoping they changed their mind was as dumb as it was selfish. They were certain about their decisions, and even though I could sleep reassured, knowing they were alive behind those wall, trying to force them into not going to the surveys and stay inside the concrete cell was too cruel.

The days were relatively peaceful. I woke up early, before sunrise, and prepared breakfast for the five of us. After that the kids cleaned while we, the grown-ups , went to work on the fields for a few hours. Later in the evenings when they replaced me I could go ahead behind the barn where we store the wheat and use the rest of the dim daylight to train.

I never thought I would miss the suffocating scorching air of the basement, but as I delivered blows into the tree’s hard barks I couldn’t stop myself from longing for simpler times. 

Eren and Mikasa quickly took an interest in my hobbies and kept me company, sitting in a pile of old crates just watching me practice drills and keeping my stamina up, their legs swinging back and forth, but barely, they would grow tall in no time, taller than me for sure, and maybe even taller than Ivo.

“Can you teach me?” Mikasa inquired one late night as I was trying to remember Annton’s favorite punches combination. She took me by surprise. 

“Me too!” Eren jumped down from his usual sitting spot and ran to me, the excitement in his body was almost palpable. 

“Maybe tomorrow, it’s getting late already”  I objected, sweat and the icy breeze of night wasn’t a good combination for someone’s health.

That ‘maybe tomorrow��� turned in a week because they tasked me with one of the most tedious and arduous thing I had to do in my life, weeding the crops. Armin’s grandpa skipped it because he had back pain, and since the only one strong enough to do the job efficiently was me, I had to spend six days hunched over digging my nails in the dirt. By the time I could finish for the day, my wrists ached from the constant pulling and the only thing I wanted to do was passing out in the closest thing i could find, chair, table, couch, bed. Anything worked for my tired body.

One would’ve thought the kids would understand, but of course they didn’t. Eren whined like a baby, begging me to get up, and I just laughed at him. He was crazy if he tough my legs could work normally after seven hours of cramps and aches.

“Please (Y/N)! We might need to know he basics for when we enlist!”  Eren whined.

He had a point there, but that didn’t magically cured my sore muscles.

“When I finish the weeding, I’ll take my day off and properly teach you.” He pouted at my response, but there wasn’t really much we could do about the workload the military police demanded from us.

I woke up the next day to find the crops free from the annoying green sprouts. And to an almost passed out Eren on the kitchen. With one look at the cuts in his fingers, I knew the culprit. Did he spend all night in the corps? With the freezing air? I would give him a lecture after my heart finished turning into goo from how adorable he was. Sighing, I picked him up and carried him to his bed. His cuts were clean, and I remembered his dad was a doctor. Probably watching after injuries was something he took from his progenitor.

Eren slept for the rest of the day. So I postponed the training another day.

When the sun peaked through the walls, I woke the three sleeping children and dragged them outside where I had prepared a few sacks filled with the weeds we recollected as punching bags.

Their droopy eyes filled with excitement the moment they understood what we were doing. 

Mikasa and Eren where on board, Armin was a little less convinced, but he agreed anyway.

“Okay Rascals, let’s see what you got.” I said.

And they surprised me. 

Mikasa handled my ass in no time. Her reflexes and strength weren’t normal in a kid, when she trained for real the little girl would be lethal. After two failed tries she managed to throw me over her shoulder with a decent amount of force, the impact of my shoulder against the grass making me wince. 

Eren on the other hand trained with passion, but thing were a little more complicated for him. His movements were rushed and unprecised. He reminded of me when dad tried to teach me for the first time. It also didn’t help that he got frustrated when Mikasa got the hang of it faster than him.

“I don’t like this anymore” He said, not even getting up after I made him lose his balance. Frustrated tears misted over his eyes. 

Mikasa just sat next to Armin, who was watching us intently, but without involving in the exercises

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t get this on the first try, it takes practice Eren.” I laid down on him, watching the clouds above us.

“But Mikasa...” He objected, but I shut him up before he could even finish the idea. Those negative thought would take him nowhere. It wasn’t healthy for anyone to compare their skill level with someone else, specially when they were just starting 

“Mikasa is another case... We’re focusing on you now, and what she can and cannot do has nothing to do with you, Okay? So don’t go there.” I turned to him and flicked his forehead to get my point across. “I didn’t master this with only  training for a day Eren, It’s up to you if you want to put the effort or not.” 

His gaze drifted to the sky, and he stayed silent for a while. 

“Okay, let’s go” Getting  up he dusted off the dirt on his pants and got on position again.

“That’s the spirit Kiddo.”

By the time the sun set he could almost throw me, and during the next week he mastered the technic, and it never failed to amuse me when he and Mikasa practiced behind the barn where I could see Eren’s attempt at throwing her off balance.

Those times where I could just be with them and see their growth were cherished. Hale and Ivo visiting as much as they could without being suspicious, to keep me updated with Lord’s Reiss movements, who apparently knew how to hold a grudge, keeping an exorbitant price for delivering me alive to him. 

“Ivo!” Eren’s cheerful voice filled the air every time he saw the cart in the road that lead to the house.  

“What’s up, brat? Missed me?” Ivo’s relationship with the kids had developed into a friendship, with the constant hours they had to spend together because of me. “Where are the other two runt? I brought Armin a new book, I’m sure he finished the last one already” 

He was good with kids, and he had a soft spot for the trio.

With the three kids distracted with the new literary piece in their possession on top of the kitchen table, Ivo approached me as I was trying to cook dinner. 

“Hey, I got news about the recruitment” A small apologetic smile in his face told me he knew how I felt.

Part of me wished I could just stay there in the farm with the kids and Armin’s grand father forever, but it was impossible with the constant flow of guards and military policemen coming and going around collecting the harvest. I couldn’t live forever covered by a cape.

“What about it?” I asked, not really because I wanted to know but because I had to. 

“So, they start in a month. You should start getting ready...” My heart crushed, I was not ready, and a month wasn’t enough. Ivo noticed my distressed and clasped my shoulders as I was cutting some onions. I attributed the sting in my eyes to them and not the idea of leaving the kids behind. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll keep an eye on them.” If he hoped he could make me feel better, he was wrong. His heart was in a good place, but I was convinced only me and Armin’s grandfather could take good care of them. 

“You don’t have to worry about us (Y/n)” Mikasa’s voice broke my little pity party. “It’s only going to be a year, we already decided to enlist when we turn 12.” That didn’t help either. I barely knew how to tie my shoes at twelve years old. 

“Yeah! Just wait for us in the Survey corps! We’ll kill all the titans and then see the ocean together, remember?” Eren reminded me of the promise we had. 

“Maybe I Can wait another year and then join with them... I can hide like I’ve been doing until now.” I tried to convince Ivo, but he just deadpanned at me.

“I think you’ve been lucky until now, but the chances of you keeping the cover for another year is really dim. It’s better if you enlist now.” Armin reasoned, but it still didn’t sit well in my stomach. 

“Yeah listen to the kids, who apparently have more common sense than you do.” I threw a piece of potato to his head and hit his eye. “Auch! Goddamit, that hurts (Y/n)!” The kids giggled and the tension in the room dissipated a little, but it still remained thick in my body. “It’s better to stick to the plan (Y/n), and you know it. They’ll be fine.” I turned to the kids, and they nodded in agreement. I sighed, giving up on my excuses and accepted the finality of the situation. Everything would be fine after all, right?

Wrong. 

Tragedy struck once again the day after Ivo left. A letter reached us and it tore Armin’s grandfather from us. They selected him for the suicide mission to reconquer Maria. I plead him not to go, stating that it was a crazy plan, but he refused to listen to my pathetic sobs. 

“If I don’t go, they might rataliete against the kids, besides you’re just assuming we’re going to die,” He smiled sadly at me “It might surprise you, but these old bones can still fight!” I saw the doubt in his eyes and I knew he was sacrificing himself for us to have a better chance at surviving.

A week later he was off into the horizon, his last words etched in my heart.

“Take care of Armin for me okay?”

Obviously the mission failed in record time.

Armin’s tears couldn’t stop falling for days as he clutched his grandfather’s hat close to his heaving chest. The only thing I could do was hug him at night, trying to soothe the heartache I knew was unbearable.

His hopes were cruelly snatched from him by pigs who were safe in their castles, filling their bellies like there weren’t thousands of starving people pleading for food outside of Sina’s walls. Thinking that sending the poor section of the population to a horrible and certain death was the solution. Armin’s feeling of  safety with his grandfather was gone, lost because of a negligent government.

If I didn’t want to leave them before,  now it was impossible.

I would wait another year, no matter what they said or did. So when Ivo came back at the end of the month with Hale, I delivered the news to them, fully aware they would chew my butt, but I was sure of my decision .

The usual cheerful greeting between the kids and my friends didn’t lift my mood like it always did. When the three of us were inside of the house I finally found my voice.

“I’m staying until next year” I concluded, not caring about the shocked and angry looks I got from them. 

“What do you mean?” Hale said, who recomposed almost immediately to my news. Ivo just stared at us. I could feel Eren’s angry stare in the side of my head, but I ignored it, kknowing full well he would scream at me. 

“I won’t leave them alone Hale.” I explained, and she seemed to understand what I implied. 

“You do realize it’s suicide, right?” Ivo stepped forward, towering above me, looking straight at my eyes. “Are you aware of the risks for you and for them too, I imagine?” His opinion implied behind his words.

I knew they were worried about me and my safety, and it was valid, but my concern for Mikasa Eren and Armin was too. 

“I won’t leave them alone in here.” I repeated, crossing my arms. “I’l be careful, like I’ve been until now.”

“I don’t like it (Y/N)”  Ivo’s hand went to his hair, pulling his fringe a little in frustration. “You’re risking too much...”

“You don’t need to like it. Just accept it.” My decision was final. “I’ll join with them next year, and we’ll see from there. Ivo, I can’t leave them alone, they’re still ki..” something hard collided with my temple and Eren’s shoe fell to my feet. Did he really just threw his shoe at my head? I would’ve laugh if it wasn’t for the current mood in the room.

The three of us turned to the kids, and my cold ran cold. 

Eren’s eyes were ignited with rage, as Mikasa retained him by his shirt, trying to keep him out of our conversation. She was frowning at me tho, not happy about what I was trying to do. 

“Are you serious!?” He said when he noticed my attention on him, the words died in my mouth. “You’re willing to die in vain!?” He shoved Mikasa aside and came barreling to me, his fist colliding with my hips repeatedly. I didn’t expect them to understand, and I knew they were going to be upset, but I wasn’t ready for this intensity.

“Eren!” Mikasa whined and tried to take him away from me. Ivo grabbed him from under the arms and lifted him in the air, holding him in his arms, Mikasa positioned herself next to them showing me who she was siding in the discussion.

“(y/n)... think about it please, we’ll talk in the morning. I’ll postpone the trip to tomorrow’s evening.” 

Ivo Hale and the two kids left the room.

I flopped on the couch, next to Armin, who had been quiet the whole time. We stayed like that for a while, the only sound interrupting the peacefulness was the eventual sniffing from me, as I’d cried.

“You know... They have a point.” He pondered.  “The chances of you remaining unnoticed until we can actually enroll are pretty slim… " His eyes were foucused in the table in front of us. "I heard a few guards already talking about the way you act, they’re curious.” Fuck, Armin’s words weren’t helping. “I know you’re worried about our safety, but you can’t really help us if you’re already dead” Getting up he left the room, leaving me alone to think about my decisions.

Armin was smart, and a little manipulative too. He knew how to strike in the right place to have the reaction he wanted. 

And he succeeded. Armin’s short and consise speech took the blindfold away from my eyes. The rest of the night went by in a few moments, and the sun’s first rays warmed my face through the windows. Knowing it would be the last time for a long time, I got up from the couch and went to prepare breakfast for all of us.

Tears prickled my eyes as I heated some water for a cup of tea, the dark gray clouds in the sky matching my mood, the constant threat of a downpour above our heads. When the first raindrops fell the light footsteps of the kids signaled them entering the room.

Looking over my shoulder, I noticed the three of them sitting at the table, Eren’s and Mikasa’s eyes stuck to the scratched surface while Armin stole glances at me from time to time, trying to determine if I had thought about what he told me.

I smiled at him, as I tried to memorize their features, because the next time I saw them they would be different, considering the fast pace they were growing. Eren was slowly starting to lose the baby fat surrounding his face. By the time they joined he would look like a teen, and I was going to miss the process.

Sighing, I filled my cup with the steaming black liquid, hoping it would help with my distress. I poured three more and left them on the table right in front of them.

Even though it was subtle, Eren flinched at the sound of the porcelain against the table. I could see the tension in his shoulders, but I didn’t know if it was because he was still mad at me for last night’s incident or if he had slept in an awful position.

Mikasa’s eyes found mine for a brief moment when she reached for the cup, but they adverted as a quiet “thank you” slipped past her lips. Armin’s hand reached for his cup and he did a Mikasa.

Eren lifted his head, locking eyes with me, and I froze, a breath stuck in my throat. His green eyes were full of tears, his bottom lip trembling slightly. He bit it, trying to stop the quivers looking to the side. My heart clenched at the sight of the broken boy. Was he so visibly upset because of my attempt to stay? Did I fuck up with suggesting it? His ego was surely bruised because of my doubt over them staying safe for a year alone. Regret and guilt mixed in my gut.

I opened my mouth to speak, but in a heartbeat he was no longer sitting in front of me. Moving fast as thunder he suddenly appeared next to me, circling my with his arms and holding tight, the pressure of his arms around my waist hurting a little, but I didn’t mention it, relieved by his actions.

“I’m sorry” He said,  hiding his face in my shirt. I could feel the tears staining it and the ones I was holding back all morning spilled.

I hugged him back, squeezing even harder, trying to imprint the feeling of his hug in my memory. Another two bodies collided against us, and I knew Mikasa and Armin joined our hug. I circled them too with my arms.

I cleared my throat, catching their attention. Mikasa lifted her face to look at me. Her eyes were dry, but they now held an uncharacteristic sadness in them.

“Okay, listen up you three...” I began, trying to hide the pain I was feeling. “You are the only good thing that came out of a shitty year,” Mikasa’s frown deepened at the curse word, but she said nothing. It wasn’t like me to give speeches, but it was a special occasion.  “And I hope you stay as united as you are forever. I’ll leave today only if you accept that condition, and if you promise to write, because I’ll miss you guys.“ I said. Eren’s arms tightened even more .

“You don’t need to worry, Ivo and Hale will check on us every now and then. We need you to survive.” Armin spoke, Mikasa nodding in agreement. ”And we promise to stick together, but you have to promise you won’t forget us while you’re away.” His insecurity flashed again.

These three little kids have lost so many loved ones and I could see behind his words and actions that they cared about me. Which meant I was doing something right with them if they were concerned about me. I sniffled and laughed brokenly.

“That’s ridiculous. How could I forget about the kid who showed me the wonderful world behind these walls?” Armin smiled at me with eyes glazed over. “Or the girl that can throw someone the double of her age effortlessly... I still got the marks of that time, Mikasa.” She snorted, and I squeezed her a little more. Even tho she kept her emotions under control all the time she was one of the most caring persons i’ve ever met. “And Eren, we’ll go outside together, so keep training until then. I’ll wait for you in the surveys.” Or at least I hoped I could survive until then.

A potential death in the hands of a titan was better than a certain death because of Reiss orders.

The rest of the day is a hazy mess in my memory. Most of it went by packing the few belonging I had. Hale and Ivo announced it was time to go when I finished tying the knot in my bag.

Observing how Ivo carried it into the cart, I could only feel the regret in my decision, just how angry would the kids be if I suddenly locked myself into the room until Ivo and Hale left?

Speaking of the devil, Hale’s hand clasped my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, almost as if she knew what I was thinking.

“Don’t worry, it will be fine... It’s your best chance Ace.” She said, but I still doubted.

I tried to dissipate my second thoughts. Ivo whistle for us to get into the cart, and Hale said goodbye to the kids, promising to come back as soon as she could. Palming my back, she left me alone with the kids to say goodbye for real.

Sighing I crouched down and hugged them one last time, their fingers clutching the fabric of my hood. I tried not to cry, reminding me that it would only be for a year, we were going to keep in touch with the letters and Hale and Ivo would look after them, but the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to spend time with them was tightening my chest.

“You better write me... I’ll miss you rascals.” I got up, and Mikasa searched for something in her pocket.

She extended a small black rock to me without a word. It was flat and shiny and in one of its faces, it had their names engraved into it.

“We know it’s not much...” Eren begun, Mikasa nodding in agreement.

“But this way you can keep us with you.” Armin finished the sentence.

I looked back at Hale and Ivo in search for something to say, as they were in earshot, but they were not helpful. Ivo was weeping like a baby while Hale was trying to console him, rubbing his back in comforting circles. He was a crybaby sometimes, but it was okay, as I was about to cry too. 

“This is the best thing you three could’ve got me kids.” They were making the whole “not crying anymore” thing difficult-

“(Y/N)... It’s time to go, the cart is fully loaded now.” Hale announced. The heaviness falling into my shoulders at her words.

Suddenly I wanted to beg for more time together, as it wasn’t enough. My time in the tiny house with them wasn’t perfect, but it was the closes thing I could think of, and it was hard to let go and walk away.

I hugged them one last time and I get inside the cart, the hood protecting me from the cold droplets that were falling from the sky.

The cramped space felt cold without the kid’s presence, and as it advanced, I looked back into the house where the three of them were waving me goodbye from the door. Hale Ivo and I imitated them until the small farmhouse was only a dot in the distance.

“Come on (Y/n)... We’ll keep them safe.” Hale’s hand squeezed mine, and I nodded vagely, my focus on everything that could go horribly wrong in the year I would be away.

“You know... They remind me of us in a sense...” Said Ivo, and I could see it too.

“Yeah... Mikasa is as scary as Hale when she gets mad.” I joked, the tears trailing down my cheeks “Last week she could beat me in only a minute dude, she’s talented. And Eren is one of the bravest persons in the world. And god, Armin makes me feel so fucking dumb when he speaks. Can you guys believe he gets bored with the books he reads because he guesses the ends?”

Most of the trip consisted of them listening to my rambling about the brats.

One year. I repeated those two words in my head over and over, needing to believe them for my own sanity.

The trip to the training camp took longer than what i expected, as we had to stop in the city to unload the crates and bags filled with the farm’s harvest. We left Hale behind and Ivo and continued in another cart that was conveniently going to the training corps to restock its inventory to prepare for the newcomers.

I did not understand how the whole inscription paperwork functioned, and Ivo had barely given me the overall description of what could I expect. Not mentioning where it was or what was I supposed to do. The only thing he asked for was my birth certificate, explaining he would take care of the rest, which only incremented my anxiety.

When we got to our destination, the sight made me want to crawl in a hole. The depressing brown hills that surrounded the camp were already making me feel trapped, and I noticed that everything was, indeed, a sad shade of brown, from the soil to the cabins, the only thing that sliced through the muddy scenery was a dash of green from a forest, Where I assumed we would train .

We got down from our transportation and Ivo left me all alone to sign me in into the administrative building. I stood there for a couple of minutes, like an idiot, just waiting and observing my new environment like a fish out of water. A couple of instructors parade in front of me, talking in hushed tones as they looked me up and down. Intimidated by their higher ranks, I focused my attention into my dirty and mud covered boots. My father’s advice still fresh in my memory.

“In the military, respect is above everything else (Y/N). Be humble of your position and you should be fine.” He said the morning I delivered the news to him .

The men and women in charge of our training had earned their positions with hard work and determination through years of their life and I wasn’t about to disrespect their efforts with a bratty attitude... Or at least that’s what my dad told me to do.

Ivo came back after a few more minutes, a bald man by his side.

His wrinkled face seemed like one of someone who had seen horrible things, his skin tanned because of the amount of hours he spent under the scorching sun’s rays. Once they got to Where I was, I straightened my posture, hands behind my back. He stepped in front of me, nodding in acknowledgment, a sour expression on his face.

“Are you (Y/n) Müller?” He asked, his voice harsh and blunt, just like his appearance.

“Yes, sir.” I responded, intimidated by him. I tried to ignore Ivo’s amused smile behind the soldier.

“I’ve met your father... a dedicated and brave man, I expect nothing less from you cadet. It’ll be my pleasure to have you in the recruits unit number one hundred and three.” His welcoming was sincere, as he had no reason or need to greet me personally. It seemed like my father was an appreciated man by some. The thought warmed my heart. “I’m chief instructor Kieth Shadis and I’ll be supervising your training for the three years you’ll be with us. Welcome.” He inclined his head and left me muttering a welcome to his retreating back.

Ivo palmed my arm and I relaxed.

“Welcome to the army Ace.” He said, the smile clear in his voice. “Make us proud.”

I hoped I could do it. Apparently now I had people expecting me to do well in the training, while the only thing I knew how to do was throw some punches and then dodge a few, fighting titans was a whole different thing.

I just hoped not to die during my training.

[rosesnink]

The Damned Daughter, Part 1: Me and My Broken Heart

A/N: This is a prequel that will explain the world that I’ve created, how everything works and how Joanna has become the woman she is as we know her. This goes before The Cursed Heiress and will have a certain order to read. Some chapters will be before the happenings, some will narrate another point of view on the chapter (obviously published). 

Summary: The Circle is now on edge with the birth of Joanna and Mary struggles with being a mother after centuries being on her own / Months later, we see how Mary manages being a mother of the most expected child in centuries / A witch-hunt has started and Mary and Joanna must take measures to avoid being caught / Mary makes a decision that could change the course of her undercover life in Grovershire that will mark Joanna forever. 

Word Count: 3712 

November 1795

The old man slammed a fist on the table, his long beard showing “This is a scam! The girl had one job, the easiest one, and she failed!” He roared.

The male crowd chanted in agreement “She didn’t just got humiliated by a mortal and got pregnant of him without any of his aid, she gave birth to a girl!”.

The males roared angrily as some looked at him with despite and disgust. The man tried to calm the situation “Gentlemen, I understand your concern—”.

“We should have done it The Circle style! These mortals are very complex and meek.”

The room started to chant angrily, the control once lost. Uzaric Crochane felt now helpless, looking how these men called his beloved Odessa -who called herself among mortals Mary- every nasty things.

He tried to hold them off, but failed miserably.

“ENOUGH!” A loud, feminine voice called. Who else than his beloved wife and big matriarch, Vivian Whitmore. All the men stopped, now silent and intimidated by the matriarch, her tall, slim and old figure showing. She was 1005 years old, the oldest witch ever. The strongest and most powerful, she who brought five of the strongest warriors alive: Niklaus, Lucien, Nya, Nene and Odessa. Buried three other stillborn children, lost in childhood other two. If the world wasn’t so cruel, the Crochane dynasty would have ten heirs, but instead it had three “I can scarcely believe we are behaving like those who we promised to never be like. Judging a woman for not one, but three things she never asked for? Risking the Peace Treaty because the awaited child is a girl? What are we, chromes?” Her voice wasn’t as loud, but it was commanding “Over the centuries we’ve seen women thrive and save us all without a man’s guide, and now you think that you have the right to shun the poor girl? For giving birth to another girl?”.

“She should have killed that Robert guy and his wife, even that Henrietta and taken over the estate! Odessa has become weak since she became mortal!” A man scoffed “The Odessa I know had killed men over less than that.”

“Rupert Foredale will be taken care of, Wazax, I assure you, just as everyone he cares for. And Vincent Foredale… well, as much as I’d enjoy kill him myself, needs to be alive until Feyre grows up. He is the key to the prophecy and total transformation of our Feyre, who’ll evolve to Vunera.” The men nodded as she recited the last and most important part of the prophecy “After the death of the weakest patriarch, the six-bred will evolve to full Goddess, accepted and welcomed as Vunera, the Goddess of the Peace and Tranquillity, bringing the realms the desired peace until the end of times.” She looked at the men “Do not test a woman’s power because of her sex. After all, all of you gentlemen are witnesses of what it will be the most powerful creature that has ever lived since the tribids, which one of them is my dear Amatis.”

Some shuddered at the mention of Amatis, a rather bloody-thirsty and deadly warrior who was someone you shall not enrage. She was a witch as her father, half a vampire and half banshee, like her mother. She was dangerous, for she could tear you apart and was able to see when someone was about to die and had magic at her hands. She was feared and many people quivered at the mention of her name. She was redheaded, like her father, with green mischievous eyes and the Crochane smirk. Her twin sister, Freya, was a hybrid: half witch, half banshee. The only one who was any of these rare kinds was Mikael, a very well-respected warlock who was awfully supportive over his sisters.

“This is what we’ll do: you will accept the child just as you accepted my dear Lucien’s children and will call upon the races in war against us, offering a strong woman who will grow to be our biggest, most powerful creation ever. Let’s start with summoning the Kings of the strongest species…”.

Nya found herself calming down her sister, the strongest of them all, wailing and screaming of pain, and not exactly because of the baby, but of the deep despair and heartbreak she was going through. Nya thought that giving birth would help her through, but made it worse instead. She knew childbirth was traumatic and even scary -and yet those poor mortal women gave birth with high possibilities of dying because their duty was to become mothers. Sigh, mortal logic is the dumbest logic- but she didn’t know that it’d change a woman forever. Her shape changed: her breasts grew, so did her thighs and she became a whole other person during the process; emotional, sensible, vulnerable, weak, meek.

The Odessa she knew had died in that bed: one that once never quivered or wavered, always with her head high, one that earned respect everywhere she went, a true leader now shattered. She begged her little Fenris to ask a physician about what was happening to her: they called it postpartum depression. She was always in bed, crying silently while the little girl cried to be fed and attended while Odessa would scream to make her stop, but the baby wouldn’t budge. Nya told nobody, but sometimes, when Odessa wouldn’t move, she breastfed the little girl herself. She had to ask a midwife’s guidance and it was a very eye-opening experience. What made worth all that pain, all the struggles, the restless nights.

She had become fond of the girl: she had the Crochane blue eyes, some speculating that she could inherit her red hair. Watching the girl sleep, satisfied with the attention, happy, fed, loved…

“Odessa… I know what you went though was tough and painful, but right now, we need you… your daughter needs you. You need to heal, go back to that village and complete your mission—”.

“You don’t understand, Nya! I cannot do it!” She wailed.

“Why? Surely—”.

“I’M GOING TO DIE.” She screamed on the top of her lungs, thing that woke up the little princess, who was again crying.

Odessa grunted while jabbing her palms on her head. Nya had enough of this foolish behaviour and cradled the girl and made Odessa cradle her “Look at her! Look at her well! Get your shit together, Minerva!”.

Odessa looked at her shocked. No one since the 1200s called her by her middle name, Minerva. She nodded as she looked at the girl: she had chubby cheeks, big blue eyes and milky skin, the same tone as her Vincent. She started to rock her, calming the poor soul who was guilty of nothing but being caught at the wrong situation.

“Shh, my girl, shh.” She saw how the girl cooed at her and reached to her and she smiled, kissing the top of her head. She looked at Nya and smirked “Back at the village, when I gave birth to the girl, I didn’t name her Feyre as mother planned.”

“What’s her name then?”.

“Joanna. Joanna Feyre Crochane.”

January 1796

“May I present… Grand Duchess Odessa and the heiress of the house, Duchess Feyre Crochane!” The herald roared and the crowd went wild!

Everyone gathered around to celebrate the first year of the heiress to the house and if Odessa played her cards well, the throne. Many girls swooned over her baby cheeks and small, chubby figure, beaming and cooing happily. Nya and Nene were in another float. They paraded all over the Circle as people yelled how much they loved the small Duchess already. There was a moment where her little Joanna sneezed and the crowd melted over such an adorable sound, thing that made her beam and move her small legs and arms. She was only three months old, but she aspired to be smart. She was a very brave baby who laughed when her dragon, Jaskier, growled at her or when even the Devil came to see her and she threw him at the face her food, thing that he did not appreciate.

It was hard work because she always cried just when she was heading to bed and she did not appreciate it, but once she saw her chubby face crying, she could not resist. Auburn hair started to grow slowly and every time she raged, the whole ground shook.

There were some tranquil nights were she just observed her little princess sleep, licking her thumb and have dreams. Some nights, she could even still feel Vincent’s arms around her, beaming at their little girl, then kissing her cheek and asking her to come back to bed, but it was just an illusion. What he did to her was the worst humiliation possible over her 775 years of life. Betrayed, alone, abandoned… too many emotions for just a woman like her. For centuries she had suffered many betrayals: she had been ratted out for being a witch, chained in the Tower Of London, a mutiny of her lover when she was a pirate, almost burned because of those fucking Christians, casted out of England for neglecting Henry’s VIII affections during Katherine of Aragon’s second pregnancy, tortured by Hernán Cortes, kidnapped by her grandfather because he was hexed… she was so terrified of what he could do to her, yet she had never cried so much just as she cried when Vincent abandoned her for some blondie who was tasteless and desperate. It was like she had a million cuts all over her heart and her soul was beaten up and she felt so hurt, so angry, so betrayed, so abandoned…

She screamed into the void, thinking it’d become better, but then she saw how happy he was for his newly pregnant wife. She thought of writing him, telling him about her little princess, but then she remembered that he did. He wasn’t deserving of her. Her beautiful eyes, full of light and life, her laugh that filled the void of her heart and restored her soul the moment she cradled her, her soft expression every time she called her name…

The parade stopped and she had to finish the party, so put a smile on her face and lifted Joanna to the sky, where the ancestors could observe her and it poured petal pink rain: it meant that her path would be rough, difficult and uncertain, but that if she played her cards well, she could thrive. Everyone sacrificed animals, thing that made Joanna cry.

Everyone was at her door, awaiting to see the baby and shower her in presents and adoration. She waved at them and Joanna beamed, making the whole crowd swoon.

An hour after, it was time that Joanna had her sleep and she kissed her head, making her yawn and sleep.

“Seems like this time it wasn’t so hard.” A familiar voice smirked.

She turned around to see Elias, on his usual attire from the 1600s and his long, white hair and his deep green eyes, tall as ever. She smiled at him and greeted him.

“It’s been a while. How about if we go for a walk?”.

“… I’d like that.”

May 1807

It had been three months since Joanna received the last power before start transitioning and getting used to the power she held inside her. She had tried to tell her daughter about her true condition, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She feared for her. She was out of control, too much power on such a small child. Ever since, Elias had been there, holding down the forte until she could find a steady anchor. Briar didn’t seemed an enough one, for she always encouraged her to do naughty things. Every time they argued, the floor ended up trembling. Odessa was hopeless, while Elias would never lose hope. There had to be someone out there who could help her. People started to talk about a dark force among them, one that would be their downfall. They started to question people.

Well, more like young girls, Joanna’s age. Odessa feared for her life, because if she didn’t die, she would unleash chaos and she wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not when she received a letter saying that by the year 1816, the world would be full of old dark forces looking for her downfall. The witches’ downfall.

“Miss Mills? Scotland Yard, open the door.”

She straightened herself and opened the door, looking at them impassive. One of them was smoking a big cigar, while the other had a cruel smirk on his face.

“Is your daughter home? We’d like to ask some friendly questions.”

She nodded as she offered them tea and the best seats for them as she called upon her daughter, who was reading a book. She spoke into her mind

Joanna, my dearest, you must lie to these men, for they cannot know we exist. Tell them you have a very bad temper and you’re working on it. Don’t look threatening. Be calm. Do not give them power over your emotions. Lay your head low, don’t talk back, be polite. Don’t you ever tremble or hesitate, for these men are very dangerous, butchers.

“Joanna, my beautiful girl, there are some nice men who want to talk to you.”

“Of course, Mama.”

She bowed her head in signal of respect and stood there, showing no emotions, like she was taught.

“Miss Mills… have you felt anything different in you?”.

“My Mama told me that at this age I shall find some differences in my body and voice, perhaps my behaviour.”

“Have you noticed anything… out of place in this town?”.

“I wouldn’t know, sir. I just do my chores and help Mama out, I don’t pay attention to these things.”

The man chuckled “An obedient, good girl, eh? That’s good, lass. Do you believe in witches, young lady?”.

“No, sir. I believe, just as Mama does, that is an old wives’ tale. A mere myth to scare us.”

The man with the cigar got up, examining young Joanna. He smiled like a predator and Odessa held back to trick him to get his hands off her daughter, for the tension was already palpable.

“Did you know that redheads are ought to be well hidden witches?”.

“I may have heard, but I find it preposterous. I am a normal, young lass, sir, who works to get a living and find a fitting husband.”

The man chuckled, some smoke getting in Joanna’s face, but she never wavered. He patted her shoulder “That’d be all, lass. It’s your lucky day, no charges.” He looked at Mary and smirked “Have a good day, Miss Mills.”

They both bowed “You too, Detective.”

They waited until the men were far away before sighing of relief. Odessa hugged her daughter, kissing her temple “You did well, my girl. We are no longer suspects. Now go, Elias waits for you and your lesson. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Yes, Mama.”

1810

Odessa was talking to her newest, rather amiable friend Mrs. Coleman as she giggled about Mr. Gibbs’s son making heart eyes at Miss Daly, her dear Pavarti’s daughter, wondering if she’d feel the same or she’d break his heart, adding it to her list. Odessa chuckled as she shook her head, amused by her wonderings.

“Did you also noticed how happier your Joanna has been ever since she and my eldest boy started to court? My boy won’t shut up about how happy he is beside her, getting to know her. I think he’s more than smitten. He might be in love!”.

“He seems to be absolutely whipped about my dear Jo, indeed. It almost reminds me of her father’s gaze… unwavering, unyielding and completely enamoured. Sometimes I swear I can see him, smiling at me… but he is in fact buried and I cannot do nothing to reverse it.”

Mrs. Coleman was about to question her when Thomas himself stormed into the room, eyes wide, nervous and stuttering some nonsense. Mrs. Coleman scolded him for his poor manners and he cleared his throat, gaining his composure again “Ms. Mills, may I have a word?” He looked at his mother “Alone. Tis a private matter.”

Mrs. Coleman nodded, now seeing her son’s game and beaming, winking at Odessa to then close the door shut, leaving utter privacy to them.

“How can I help you, boy? Come, I won’t bite you.”

“Yes, I know, I just thing this occasion I must be on my feet.” He cleared his throat and Odessa observed he had put on his Sunday clothes. Something was going on, indeed “It is no secret that you daughter Joanna Mills has captivated me completely ever since the moment I saw her and I am honoured that you allowed me to court her. I’d like to think that she and I are a match made in Heaven, for I haven’t met someone who I feel so coordinated, intelligent, capable, strong and positively charming as Joanna.” He took a deep breath as he knelt down to her “That’s why, miss, I beg of you to concede me the honour to… propose to your daughter this Friday, after the governor’s speech.”

Odessa’s eyes went wide as she chuckled, not believing her eyes “These are joyous news, but… are you certain, boy? You are but 18!”.

“I’ve never been so certain in my life, Ms. Mills.”

She was about to give her answer when she remembered the Elders and their schemes. She frowned as she thought of an excuse to make him wait a bit longer. What if they tried to kill the poor boy?

“Thomas… I’d love to give you an answer, but there are some things about her education and womanly matters I’d like to discuss with the family. It doesn’t mean that it’s a no… but neither a yes. Can you wait until Thursday?”.

“I’ve been waiting for your daughter for 10 years, I think I can manage three days.”

Odessa placed a comforting hand on his shoulder “You are a great boy, Thomas. Never doubt that.”

Nya gasped “Proposal? Like, marriage proposal?!”.

“Ye—”.

“Ridiculous. They’re too young to be engaged! I have never been engaged and I’m 800 years old. I think Feyre can live without a man just fine.”

“I mean… I have lived without a man just fine.”

“It’s different, Nya. You are a sapphic, you aren’t even attracted to the men.”

“I’m actually—”.

“Odessa, the Elders have spoken.”  

She nodded as she went to that charming yet scary chamber of theirs. Many ghosts were there, looking at her and she curtsied in signal of respect “I take you’ve made your decision?”.

“Yes, indeed. It wasn’t easy, Minerva, but we’ve reached an agreement.”

Another Elder spoke “You know we are the only ones who can see millions of lives lived and endings and possibilities and after consulting our Gods, we’ve reached a decision.”

“We have decided that…” Odessa held her breath “we shall accept this engagement of Feyre with the Coleman boy as much as it can last until she reaches the age of 20, for she’ll have to meet sooner or later the Earl for—”.

“I am dying and my hex is inevitable, I know.” She frowned “Any leads about who could have done that?”.

“Not yet, but soon, trust us.”

“I shall deliver the news back to Earth.”

Friday night

Everyone was speaking about the annual speech of the governor, always so proper and stiff. Thomas couldn’t stop staring at Joanna, who was beside her mother and listening to Briar’s gossip about the governor’s mistress in Manchester, a married woman with three children she declared.

Thomas saw that everyone was gathered in the room when he shyly climbed to the fountain and gathered everyone’s attention “First of all, congratulations to our governor’s eloquent and inspiring speech. Second of all, I’d like to say a few words to a certain girl who is present tonight.” His eyes fell on a very confused Joanna “Joanna, when you first came to this town, I couldn’t believe my eyes. So young, yet so wise and educated, strong and open minded, I was awe-struck with you. During these years and especially these months I’ve never met someone who I could be myself around without feeling embarrassed or thinking about if I was making a fool of myself. I have found someone who has such an inspiring insight of the world, how many possibilities are in the world and that there’s more than meets the eye.” He smiled at her as Briar and her mother encouraged her to meet him and she realized what was going on. “I love you, Joanna Feyre Mills. Ever since the moment I saw you, I was. And I’d like to prove everyone that I am enough for you.”

He jumped off the fountain and dropped on one knee, his face beaming on the moonlight “Joanna… will you make me the happiest, luckiest and most complete man and marry me?”.

“Thomas… Tommy…” A few tears came to her glistened eyes. She got him up and smiled as wide as she could “Yes!!! Yes, a thousand times yes!!!”.

Everyone cheered for the couple as some guys grunted, damning the stupid Coleman boy for having her first and now until they were husband and wife. Joanna grabbed Thomas’s face and kissed him passionately, making the elders chuckle as Odessa shook her head. She had never been so happy for Joanna… not since her Vincent proposed to her.

Briar ran towards them, squealing and asking for details as Pavarti and Mrs. Coleman spoke of the wedding, how it’d be and many, many awful details.

That night everyone celebrated the newest engagement, dancing around and eating Mrs. Daly’s delicious delicacies as Thomas and Joanna giggled, their eyes and hands on each other.

Odessa knew that this wouldn’t last, but that was a conversation that she’d have later.

“For now, let her be happy.” She said, looking at the moon, the same moon that made certain that she and her Vincent weren’t so far from each other. 

[homogrimoire-archive]

The Remnant Branches

CH. 6 - The Woe of the Wretched

Part 3: A Sibling's Love

Having completed his mission for Oz already, James returns to Jakob to deliver some unfortunate news. After, he begins his peaceful quest to search for any astronomical information this world may hold. This first takes him to the library in the nearby village.

AO3 Link

The elevator reached the surface with the sound of its old doors creaking open. Ironwood was feeling ambivalent, however. On one hand, his mission was complete, and he had five days left to do as he pleased. On the other hand, reviewing the video tapes revealed that the mother had perished in the factory while running away from her children with a man. It is only human to want to be free from burden too. Ironwood knew he had to at least tell Jakob that harsh truth.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. You were in there for a while.” said Jakob as James entered the door.

“Yes, I’m fine, but, there’s no easy way to say this.” From the look on Jakob’s face, Ironwood could tell he already knew what was coming.

“It’s my mom, huh? It’s alright. Nier already told me. He said he found her on his way back, and brought me back some of her perfume.” he said sadly.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’ll be alright. And Gideon will come around eventually. … I just-” he let out a sigh. “I just don’t know what to feel now. It hurts that she left us, but I know this was all too much for her. She just wanted to be happy, and her happiness didn’t involve us, but I still love her. We had some good times, and she did try for a time, and she is my mom. I just can’t bring myself to hate her. I feel like I should be stronger, and not even cry for her. Is that bad?” he asked, eyes watery and voice on the verge of cracking. Ironwood thought for a moment.

“I will be honest, I can’t understand how you feel, so take this as a grain of salt: I don't think you’re wrong for wanting that. Ultimately, she hurt you, her child. But understand this,” James got down on a knee to be eye level with him, “you are strong. From all my years, I’ve learned that it's easier for people to hate than it is to love. It takes a lot of strength to love, especially after what she did. And look around you!” James got up and motioned him to look at the shop around him. “Despite everything, you’ve managed to run this shop and become an excellent blacksmith, all while taking care of your brother all on your own. That is no small feat, especially for someone your age. This is a tough time for you, but you will get through it. You are strong.”

“Thanks mister Ironwood.” Jakob sniffed. “I needed that. It's gonna be hard, but things will be alright. I think she would want us to be alright too. And besides, I still have Gideon.”

“I’m glad. Oh, and here’s some junk I collected on the way. I figured you could use it.” Ironwood tossed a bag full of scrap onto the counter.

“Sweet! Thanks!” he exclaimed happily.

“No problem Jakob. … It looks like I’ll be on my way now.”

“Alright, stay safe now. There are a lot more shades out there than here in the Junk Heap.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve faced all sorts of monsters before.” With a final wave goodbye, James closed the door behind him and made his way to the exit. He was never the best at goodbyes or any sort of closing remarks.

As he walked, he thought about how Jakob could still love his mother after what she did. However, he knew he would have to be content in knowing that he would never understand it. A child’s love for their parent was a powerful thing.

He rememberd that Nier told him that there was a library in his village just across the plains. He hoped he could get lucky and find some old star charts or any sort of astronomical information. While Remnant was overall more technologically advanced, this world had traveled into space, well beyond their atmosphere.

From the information stored at the factory, he learned that this world had sent people to their unbroken moon, set artificial satellites in orbit around their planet, and sent machines to study planets billions of miles away. It amazed Ironwood so, and he intended to learn as whatever he could from this world’s knowledge on outer space. It was about time he treated himself to enjoying his little hobby.

Astronomy was something that always interested him. So much of it was unknown. There was a sense of serenity in that. It was a place free of the chaos of a cruel world. He considered that space could be chaotic too, but in its own ways, ways much less cruel. Space is an exotic, previously unknown beauty to him. He dreams that it is a place free of duty and worry, where people are safe, and will never have to worry about the cruelest cruelties of life. Salem, Grimm, murder, and needless suffering are absent there in his dream.

However, more than that, much more than that, a part of him believes something. It is the part of him where his last shred of innocence exists, the part where he holds onto hope for a merciless and unforgiving world. It believes that there, he can finally love.

-

After about half an hour fighting aggressive shades across the plain, James finally arrived at the gates of the village. He knocked on the large door, and waited. Looking up, he saw a man looking down on him over the side of the top of the gate, and disappeared from view, shouting an ‘okay’ that led to the gate opening. A guard gave a grunt of acknowledgement as he passed. It was a quiet place, and nothing like Atlas. By the fountain, he noticed a woman at a fountain singing a song. It helped calm him after the heavy, heart racing, fighting.

Ku ata

Tsu no-o va-lai

Tzud-e jei

Fo-aul ae kai

She seemed like she could help him.

“Excuse me, miss, would you happen to know where the library is?” he asked her.

“Do I look like a tourist guide to you?” she said curtly. Ironwood didn’t know what to say. “I’m just joking with ya.” she laughed. “It’s that building at the top of the hill.” she pointed out. “I’m Devola, and if you need any help finding something, ask my sister Popola. She’ll be in the room on the second floor to the right.”

“Alright, thank you.” he waved as she resumed her song. He just hoped his encounter with the other sister wouldn’t be like that.

The library had all its books stacked up its walls, leaving it a rather open space. At first, he aimlessly wandered around, scanning the spines of the books he passed. So far, he hadn’t found what he was looking for, and decided to give Popola a visit. At a shelf next to the base of the stairs was a little girl struggling to reach a book. Her hair was a silvery white, akin to Nier’s. He noted that similarity. He reached for the book and handed it to her.

“Here you are.”

“Thank you mister!” she said with a bright smile. She took a seat at the stair’s first step and began to read the simple book. Aside from her pale skin, which could be attributed to a lack of sunlight, odd considering the eternal sun, she did not look sick to him. Once at the top of the stairs, he turned right and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” she shouted, and Ironwood entered. “Oh, a new face. Not often you see one of those. How can I help you?” she said, looking up from the paperwork on her desk.

“I’m looking for books on astronomy, or any information you have on it really.” he said.

“Hmm… Astronomy… I don’t recall there being any books on that here, but-”

“DEVOLA, HURRY, QUICK!” screamed a voice downstairs.

“Crap, crap, crap!” she fearfully repeated as she leaped over her desk and bounded downstairs. James made sure to get out of her way, and looked downstairs once she had past him.

At the bottom of the stairs was the girl from earlier. She was curled up, wincing in pain as a darkness enveloped her arms and legs. There seemed to be some lettering in it. It had almost seemed familiar to James, but it faded before he could more clearly see it.

However, he knew for sure that this was Nier’s daughter, Yonah, with her silver-white hair and some sickness that could only be the Black Scrawl. It was unlike any kind of sickness he had seen before. He saw Devola scoop her up in her arms and leave the library.

He made his way down the stairs and picked up the book she dropped, A picture book titled The Wizard of Oz. Amused at the title, but otherwise uninterested in it, he placed it back on the shelf. Aesop’s Fables, Red Riding Hood, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, and Goldilocks and the Three Bears were among the selection of books with colored pictures and big fonts.

Realizing he was the children’s section, he went back upstairs to browse another random section. He managed to find what he assumed was the philosophy section, based on the titles. It was filled with names unknown to him, Friedrich Engels, Karl Marx, Karl Grün, Simone de Beauvoir, Georg Hegel, Zhuangzi, Mozi, and many more.

He picked up a book by Karl Marx and flipped through it. Interestingly, none of its words were capitalized. He assumed it was a printing error. Once he saw that it concerned economics as well, and he quickly put it back. He dealt with enough economics back home, and had no desire to read about it on his little vacation. He owed himself that much, even if he was starting to feel guilty for taking such a long break from his work. He managed to find the romance section, but quickly found that none of it was to his taste. Romance as a genre was he never really understood the appeal of anyways.

Eventually, he settled on a titleless book that was at the top of a first floor shelf. It seemed mysterious, and therefore interesting.

There was an android who was set to oversee a small village. Her name was Skald, and embedded in her was the incredible power of an ancient song from another world. The song allowed her to help and manage her village in incredible ways, but, it soon corrupted her and the villagers. As a result, her creators had her and the village destroyed.

Learning from their failure, the scientist removed the magical power of the song. Despite having less power than before, she still ran and oversaw the village well enough. Her creators were pleased and began to make plans for mass production. While her creators did that, she had grown close to another woman in her village. They did lots together, so much so that many began to believe they were sisters. And soon, they began to refer to themselves as sisters. The scientist saw that there was an increase in her performance during this time.

However, the woman died in an unfortunate and sudden accident, leaving Skald all alone. Her performance decreased greatly as a result, and she was eventually decommissioned. She was not saddened at the revelation of her fate. In fact, she seemed grateful. However, the scientists were saddened by their creation. They created something near immortal that could love, and would more often than not have that love ripped away from them eventually.

In honor of their creation, they learned from their cruel mistake. Skald was renamed Popola, the nickname given to her by the woman and villagers, and she would have a twin to be by her side. Her name would be Devola, after the woman who loved Skald as a sister. “Together, they could sing a song that would calm and heal the heart. Together, they would face an otherwise lonely existence. Together, love would allow them to survive a cruel world.” was the ending of the short story.

Ironwood wasn’t sure what to exactly think of the story. He wondered why someone would write such a preposterous backstory about their village leaders. But then his thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. In came the younger sister, Devola, who went to meet him.

“Good, you’re still here. Sorry about earlier.”

“It’s alright, things happen. Will she be alright?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine, she just needs some rest and medicine. She’ll be back here tomorrow I’m sure, unless Nier gets back soon. But Popola wanted me to pass a message. She said that you should try the Lighthouse at the Seafront south of here, or the desert civilization east of here. There's a store there where you might find what you’re looking for.” She pointed in the directions he should go.

“Alright, thank you.” James said happily. “Oh, and before I forget and you might want to check out this book.” he said, handing her the book he read earlier. ‘“I can’t imagine why anyone would write something like this, and I think you wouldn’t want it in here.” Curiously, she took the book and glanced at the cover and its back, and quickly flipped through its pages.

“Ha! This is a strange little book. Thanks for catching it. Here, take this to keep it between us.” she tossed him a small sack that rattled. James opened it to find coins in it.

“Are you sure? I don’t think you need to give me this. It-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” she calmly interrupted. “You just go and have your fun.”

“Well, alright. Thank you then.”

As he walked to the eastern gate, he wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. However, he simply just could not imagine it. A sibling’s love was something he never felt, and would never feel. He wondered if he should feel sad about that or not.

-

We give the finality of death. Iron skin draws out fear and terror, and is bathed in flesh. We are satisfied by the snatching of life. We realize our purpose through the crushing of the bodies. In our delight, we spread death far and wide. We are the iron will. We kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

This interloper knows what he does as he slashes the blade on the way to his destination.

He knows there is blood on his hands, and accepts it readily, for he knows he must.

What he does is as just as it is unjust.

He knows this, and slashes again.

It must be done, so he believes.

Anyone can do this, so long as they think they are right.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Girl Who Cried Witchcraft

Everything hurt.

Well, everything always hurt, but it hurts more than usual at this very moment. Mary can barely force her eyelids open; it’s like they’re sewn together. She thinks she’s standing up, but it feels like she’s falling down. And, holy mother of God, did her neck hurt.

She thinks shock has finally worn off. She can feel every stab of pain, every pinprick is agony that needles her body. The lashes streaked across her back hurt more than usual, rubbing uncomfortably against her dirt-caked dress. Frays of fabric bite into the scabs, chafing until they break it back open and itch the interior of her flesh. Her knees are darker than a ripe eggplant in the fall and she thinks the burns on her neck are peeling again. Her feet ache from old lashings on the soles, her head is killing her, her fingernails are chipped and broken and some are missing from hard labor, cracks crusted in dark red, and blood has been dribbling out in persistent streams from her nose a little while ago- she can’t remember why. Maybe Mercy or Abigail threw a rock at her? They never did like her.... And why did her neck hurt so much? It feels like someone is pressing down on her airways, strangling her.

But it was fine! Everything was fine! She managed to survive in Salem with all of these wounds. If open injuries were going to get badly infected anywhere, it would be the unsanitary 17th-century.

But she was okay.

You see, now she’s...- well, she can’t quite remember. Her head hurts too much. So does her neck. The tightness and pressure keeps increasing and increasing and-

Geez, though, who turned on the lights? She’s barely opening her eyes and she already feels like she’s being blinded. Burning white light stabs into her retinas; how can candles or lanterns make such a glare?

And what was that sound? Was someone...washing their hands? Better yet: when did she go into a washroom? She would have noticed...

Wait, what the hell? This mirror is cleaner compared to the one in the Proctor house. It’s also hung up on the wall- who hung up their mirrors? And what were those doors in the reflection? (“Bathroom stalls,” A knowledgeable voice whispered in her mind with wisdom she didn’t know she had.) And who in the ever loving hell is that woman washing her hands next to her? And why was her hair not tied up and covered by a bonnet?!

Wait-

Mary does a double take. She inhales a sharp breath and slowly cranes her head around to look at the stranger. Her face drains of all color as the dark-skinned woman’s mouth fell agape in equal shock. They both stare at each other for a long time before Mary bolts towards the door. She stumbles into an unfamiliar hallway (no buildings had hallways like this!!) with even more unfamiliar people. They seem to recognize her as an unknown alien to this place and turned to stare. It didn’t help that she was breathing heavily and looked like she was in serious need of a hospital.

She took two steps back, only to get herself into a wall. She narrowly dodges someone coming at her and- was there a pitchfork or sickle around here she could use? (“No,” Said the voice, “You aren’t there anymore.”)

Mary swerved away from the lady walking towards her and sprints into a tiny room filled with bottles and cleaning tools (“Janitor’s closet,” Said the voice, “A janitor is someone who cleans places for a living. Not like a servant or maid, though. It’s different.”), pressing up against the door to keep it shut once she’s inside. She slumps to the ground, trying to catch her breath and process what exactly was happening.

She could hear talking out in the hallway. It was muffled through the wall, but it would only take a little common sense to realize they were talking about her. Because of course they were.

  “...I don’t know. I just blinked and there she was!”

  “...That’s so weird. I’ve never seen her here before. Maybe she’s a new crew member?”

  “...We would have known by now.”

  “...True.”

  “...Plus, she looked so young! Maybe sixteen?”

  “...Joan, Katherine, and Maggie are young, too.”

  “...Oh yeah.”

Mary holds her breath and prays to God that they’ll go away. They don’t. The Lord must still be angry with her.

There’s a knock on the door that sends Mary hauling herself into the opposite wall. She collides with a shelf full of cleaning supplies and she feels her scarred back and aching neck throb disagreement. She grits her teeth and waits for the pain to subside, which causes her to miss what’s being said to her for the first few seconds.

  “..Hello? Hello? Are you okay in there?” Asked a first voice, which had a very weird accent to it. Nobody in Salem sounded like that.

  “What kind of drugs are you on, kid?” Piped up a second.

  “...Anne!”

  “...What? It’s a good question. You aren’t thinking it?”

  “...Definitely not.”

It takes a moment for Mary to register that words are being spoken to her. Words of concern; not ones that are screaming religious sacraments or witchery and accusations or cruel words directed specifically towards her. These people sounded genuinely worried about her. That didn’t stop her from putting up a tough front, though.

  “Wh-what? I’m- I’m not- not-!”

(“Drugs are...well, bad things in this world. They change your attitude and perception. People get addicted to them.” Explained the voice.)

Or, well, she tried to sound tough.

  “Poor thing must be so scared...” Murmured the first voice.

Oh, she definitely was.

  “Where am I?” Mary asked fearfully, her voice shaking more than she would like to admit.

  “London. In a theater.” The second voice answers without missing a beat, then added softly to their friend, “...See, I told you she wasn’t from here.”

London? Where- (“London is the capital of England.” Informed the voice.)

England...

Mary’s face paled. She couldn’t possibly be in England! How did she get at the sight of so much sin? How was she no longer in Salem? What-

A sudden pain in her neck halted Mary’s panic attack. She hissed in pain between her gritted teeth and raised a hand to clutch tightly at her throat. When her fingers brushed across the skin, she felt roughness and tenderness, as her flesh stung intensely when touched. She whimpered this time.

  “Kid?” A few knocks on the door, but Mary doesn’t really hear them or the person. She was too focused on the wound lancing across her neck. Upon inspection, she finds that it goes all the way around her neck.

...Had she been hung?

No. No, she definitely wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. So how-

Mary’s stomach dropped.

She remembered being at the execution of Rebecca Nurse, Martha Corey, and John Proctor. Most of the other afflicted girls were gone, like Abigail and Mercy, who had run off to a boat. The hanging was the worst of them all for Mary. She was already struggling with the guilty and grief and trauma from the court experience, but this...it drove her over the edge.

She remembered stepping up onto the scaffolding late at night, tying up her beloved cloak, and-

  “Are you okay in there?”

Mary swears softly to herself. She wants to scream and pull her hair out, but that hasn’t done any good before. Besides, she doesn’t want to add anymore pain to her already throbbing head.

  “Do you mind coming out here? So we can talk face-to-face? Maybe we can help you?” Requested the first voice.

Mary was this close to just saying “That’s it! I’m killing myself!” and then guzzling down the cleaning chemicals in the room with her (the voice in her head said they were very toxic), but, this time, she stamps down that urge. Instead, stands up very slowly, half because of her hesitancy and half because of her wounds. She arms herself with a mop and opens the door begrudgingly.

Two completely normal looking people stared in at her, trying to seem as less threatening as possible, which she kind of appreciated.

Both of them were taller than her, most people were, and appeared to be a lot older. However, their clothes...one of them, a pale white lady, was clad in a shiny green dress of sorts, which was way too short for a woman to wear, and the dark-skinned person she had seen in the bathroom was wearing a sparkly blue outfit. It wasn’t a dress, rather something closer to men’s attire, and they both had their hair weird and weren’t wearing a bonnet.

  “Hi,” The dark-skinned woman said with a small smile, “I’m Catherine Parr. That’s Anne Boleyn. What’s your name?”

Mary looked both women up and down again, drinking in their appearance further. Were they witches? Surely that had to be. What normal person wouldn’t cover their head and would wear clothes like that? They must have teleported her to this sinful country or something! And...revived her? Because she definitely had died. (“Welcome to the 21st-century.”)

  “Mary,” She finally said softly. Her throat hurts when she talks.

Cathy and Anne exchange looks, with some kind of recognition flashing in their eyes, and for a moment Mary worried that she’ll have to accuse witchcraft on them if they know about her and her history. Then, they smile in a friendly way that eases her up a little. Not enough to pry her hand loose from the mop handle, though.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mary.” Anne said, “So I take it that you’re not from around here, huh? You must be real confused.”

Mary is only partially listening. She’s gone temporarily deaf in one ear and the other is constantly ringing, so she can’t hear much.

  “Yes...I am.” She said slowly.

  “Do you have any idea how you got here?” Cathy asked.

Mary shook her head. Really, that’s the truth. Being transported to another country entirely has never happened to her before.

  “That’s okay,” Anne said, “We’re not strangers to weird and unexplainable occurrences.”

Mary is actually curious about that and and the grins Anne and Cathy give each other, and really wants to question them, but her conscious starts to waver. She blinks several times, but black spots continue to rage across her vision. Through the dark blizzard, she sees Cathy turn back to her.

  “Mary?”

Arms on her shoulders. Mary stiffens, spine arching and causing a horrible sensation to ripple through her back.

  “Holy shit, is that blood?!”

  “Oh my god- her back...”

Warmth starts to spread across Mary’s back. Something is running down her waist and legs. Pain turns to numbness.

  “Anne, call 999-”

  “No!”

Raising the mop, Mary hits Cathy in the stomach as hard as she could, winding the woman and causing her to stumble to the wide while clutching at her midsection. She notices anger flash in Anne’s eyes.

  “What the fuck is-”

Mary swings again, nailing Anne in the shoulder.

  “Witch!” She shrieked and doesn’t miss the way the green-clad woman pales, “Get away from me, you witch! Get away!!”

The screaming draws people to the hallway and Mary backs away, shakily pointing the mop at them like it was the legendary sword Excalibur. (She only knows what that is because the Knowledge Voice in her head told her.) Among them is another dark-skinned woman, this one older than Cathy and clad in golden clothes that were even more revealing that Anne’s. She’s the one who charges forward and, in response, Mary scampers back into the storage closet.

  “What is going on?!” The woman yelled, “Who is that child?!”

  “She said her name was Mary,” Cathy wheezed out, tenderly massaging the place where she was hit, “She appeared-”

  “Mary?”

The pretty golden lady’s eyes are really wide.

  “My daughter?”

The mop dropped from Mary’s hands. That catches the woman’s attention and she turns to look at where she’s peeking fearfully out of the janitor’s closet.

  “Catherine-”

  “Mary...” The woman, also Catherine, ignored Cathy. She steps towards Mary, who backs away with a whimper. “Shh, shh,” She shushed softly, “It’s me, darling. It’s your mother.”

  “Mother?” Mary squeaked.

She never knew her parents. Everyone in the village said she was an orphan. And, although their skin tones didn’t match, the Knowledge Voice said that a colored woman could have a white child if her husband was also white. Sometimes even if they were both colored! So...maybe this was her mother. Maybe they were both revived due to witchery for the sole purpose of reuniting!

Mary didn’t care about how crazy that sounded, she vaulted herself into Catherine’s arms, clinging tightly.

  “Mom...” She whispered.

If that set off alarm bells in Catherine’s brain, she didn’t show it.

[sellmedoves]

my college experience

College. I started college in 2016. I was excited that whole summer because I got to have a fresh start and leave high school behind me. I moved into a dorm with 3 girls I didn’t know. I chose to live with random girls that year because I wanted to meet new people. I rushed a sorority at the beginning of the school year, and I met a lot of fun and kind people throughout that week. I got into a seemingly great sorority at the end of rush week and then class began the following week. I really liked my schedule; I didn’t have any 8am classes and I didn’t have any classes at all on Friday’s. It felt like I was finally moving on and starting a new, positive chapter of my life. There was always something in the back of my mind that I felt like was holding me back, though…

I was extremely homesick. My school was only about 30 minutes away from my hometown, but I’m so close to my family, especially my mom, so it was hard for me. I have 3 half siblings, but I grew up as an only child, so it was a difficult transition from always having privacy and my own space to having to share my space with 3 other girls, random girls at that. They were sweet and I actually feel lucky that I got paired with normal people, but it was still hard regardless. I began coming home on weekends and then going back to my dorm during the week. As the first semester went on, I began to isolate myself more and I didn’t have as much ambition and excitement as I used to. By the time I came back from Christmas break and started the second semester, I lost touch with most of the friends that I made, and I felt as if I was the loneliest person in the world. I ended up leaving my sorority right before spring break, isolating myself even further.

Aside from being homesick and lonely, something else I was struggling with was a fear of gaining weight. I was terrified of gaining the “freshman fifteen” that year. I feel like I’ve always had a warped perception of what my body looks like. I’m not sure why that is. Anyways, because of this fear, I barely ate. And by barely ate, I mean I would eat one of those “on the go” sized cups of Cheerios during the day, and that would be it except for when I would go home on the weekends where I’d eat real food with my family. I would look in the mirror and I was never satisfied. I don’t want to say I had an eating disorder as I feel like it’d be disrespectful to people who struggle with life-altering eating disorders for years, but I think it was a result of genuine misery and extremely deep depression. I lost almost 20 pounds that year.

I finally made it through the year and summer began. I was able to move back home, and I got a job. I loved that summer because I was finally free from my freshman year shackles. I began to see a therapist to talk through what I went through mentally and emotionally in the past year and it seemed to have helped me for the time being. I also got diagnosed with ADD that summer which makes...too much sense. I’ve struggled in school my whole life and because of the diagnosis, I now understand why. I have over-focused ADD with OCD tendencies. I tend to obsess over and hang on to things well after others have moved on from it. I’ve been that way my whole life, and now I had an answer as to why. It also causes me to experience mood swings but the Adderall (a God send) I was prescribed helped me to control them, Anyways summer passed by quickly, and I ended up moving into an apartment with 3 girls I was friends with from high school. Sophomore year started and it was great. I was so happy, and it felt like my horrific freshman year was a lifetime ago. There are no “buts” coming about this year. It truly was a wonderful year in my life and it’s something I’ll always cherish when I look back on my hellish college experience as a whole. The next year, though, is a different story.

It’s a story I’m not going to get into. It’s personal and it involves others besides myself, but I respect their privacy and lives since we’ve moved on, so I won’t be going into detail. What I will say is that I have many regrets from this year. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of and would give anything to go back and change them. I didn’t like the person I was that year looking back, and I still don’t understand why I began to revert back to my misery, maybe it never truly went away like I thought it did. Instead of taking it out on myself like my freshman year, I took it out on others. I now take full responsibility for what I did and the people I hurt as a result and that’s something that I feel like took me a long time to do. It was cruel and it’s something I don’t and won’t try to justify anymore. I’m proud to say that I learned from that experience and the person I was then, isn’t who I am now.

After my junior year, I got an internship working at a consulting company. I LOVED this job. I loved the people I met there and made more friends there than what felt like I had in the entirety of my college experience. Real friendships where we could actually bond over something other than just being in the same class like at school. I realized that I was much happier working in a professional environment than I had ever been at school which made me even more excited to graduate. At the end of the summer, the company offered to extend my internship throughout the school year, and I was THRILLED. I was so happy that I was going to be able to leave school and go somewhere where I actually wanted to be during the week.

My senior year started soon after this and it was just…fine. Not bad but not great either. Just fine. Like I said, I was just grateful to be able to have somewhere to go after class that wasn’t just my apartment or somewhere on campus because of my job. My job began to be where I was the happiest, but, of course, school had to FUCK me over one more time. My class schedule for the second semester was Hitler on paper. I had signed up for the maximum amount of classes my school allows students to take, and just looking at it was overwhelming. I wanted to graduate on time in May and this was the only way to do it. I was forced to quit my job that I loved, and I was devastated. I continued to work there all of Christmas break up until the very last weekend before school started. I hugged my friends at work goodbye and began what would be the hardest semester of my entire life.

When I say this is the hardest semester of my life, I don’t mean it’s been hard like my freshman year was hard. I mean that my entire life is consumed with CLASSES. I feel like I never get a break and I’m always dreading tomorrow. I miss my job, and I miss when my thoughts weren’t filled with overwhelming amounts of assignments and due dates. I guess I should say I MISSED these things actually considering that all of my classes have been converted to online because of the virus terrorizing our planet. As sick as this may sound, if I could choose any semester for something like this to happen, I’m glad it was this one. I hate that a virus that is affecting so many people had to be the reason though. I’m typing this THESIS the day after my school announced it was converting to online classes and it feels like a 10,000-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It felt like I was two assignments away from having a legitimate breakdown. This wasn’t at all how I imagined my last day on campus would be like, but…I’m (kinda) done with college. At least in person. Wow. 

I’m not exactly sure what prompted me to write this. I think I wanted to do it for myself as a way to finally let go of the of pain and anger I’ve experienced through college. I want to move on with my life now that I’m less than two months away from graduation and stop hanging on to things from the past and regrets that I’ve had that I just can’t change. I tend to act like I have a tough exterior, but behind that, there’s been a lot of pain and insecurity. Some of which I’ve kept to myself. Sometimes, I look back at that 18 year old girl who was burdened with so much sadness and cry. However, I want to let go of all of it. I have to. I also wanted people to know that not every college experience is the same and they’re not always going to be like what people tell you they are or what you see in the movies. I wish someone would’ve told me that. The lows I’ve felt throughout my time in college are things I wouldn’t wish on anyone especially young people experiencing their freedom and independence for the first time. I hope anyone that might read this who hasn’t started college or who is already in college make the most of their time there. Don’t compare yourself to others and don’t allow yourself to wallow and fall so deep into a hole that you feel like you can’t get out. Get help if you need it, there’s never any shame in doing so. I’m proud of myself for pushing through and I’m ready to start the life I’ve always wanted for myself. Thank you for making it through a 2 and a half page paper of my woes. 

Xo,

Dani

[mysticalmindblog]

The challenges you face today could well be your victories tomorrow, but in order to tackle the issues at hand you need to have the clear intention of being mindful to know how to wade through the minefield of the EGO to get to the other side.

So many of us are swept up in our own self-importance that when troubles or challenges come, we go scurrying quickly into safe-spaces and comfort zones whining. We live in the Age of the Ego; of the Selfie, of the hot Social Media profile, of the Likes, and Followers. Narcissism is ritualized and celebrated in every form of media and entertainment. We want to be better than anyone else, even if it means stepping on others, or we have to fake it to make it.

Does your Ego make you feel good about yourself?

How important are you, to you..?

An awkward question to contemplate, and answer, right..?

For the greater majority of people, if asked this question, an instinctive mental answer would arise out of the ego and say, "I am the most important thing to me." However, I wonder for how many people a deeper part of the pure mind would interfere in that reply actually being spoken out loud.

Humility, and a deeper - often overlooked sense of understanding where the evils of ego are concerned, are present in all of us; and fortunately can be triggered into blocking us from making embarrassing blunders when conversations go a certain way in social situations.

The reality though, is that we humans to all intents and purposes appear to be creatures driven and motivated by insatiable desires, expectations, and self-importance. We are on this planet for a very brief time, and we spend so much of that time trying to prove to everyone else our value and worth, while having no clue about our real identity or purpose.

And yet, for all we think about ourselves, our ego, our gutsy desires, our wildly exaggerated social media profiles, and self-marketing - for the majority, we really are nothing more than temporary consumers on this planet.

We are so distracted with seeking the next best comfort item, escapism, comfort food, and comfortable environment, apathetically being lectured each and every day by the commercial advertising thrown at us in practically every aspect of our lives - only to consume, and consume, and consume some more, and keep consuming, and want to consume more, and on and on it goes.

Do you think I am being a bit harsh and narrow minded with the above statement..?

If you do, please read on, to understand this angle of perception.

You, I, and every other individual, are nothing more than a potential revenue source, a consumer who needs to be told what they need to consume in order to be happy, in the eyes of every business, company, and corporation. We are simply a means to an end - and that is to generate revenue, make profits, provide finance for others to live from. The care is only for the bottom line, and whatever it takes to ensure the bottom line is fruitful.

And then there is us, the customer, the consumer. For us, wherever we think the grass is greener (the price is cheaper) we will inevitably always run. And why not, right..? After all, everyone wants a great deal and a super bargain, get more for less, or maybe get stuff for free - even better! Whoever likes to make a dash towards anything that takes away from your pleasure center, and instead gives suffering and hardships..?

Nobody. It's all about the comforts and pleasures.

So, what has all this got to do with the Image Quote theme for this blog entry..?

Everything to do with it, actually.  I myself am a firsthand witness that when you get completely and utterly frustrated by a situation or a bundle of challenges in life, you 'can' learn the most important lessons of your life.

It really has to be clear that when suffering occurs and painful choices and procrastination are concerned, a lack of due diligence will return the human psyche into a repeating cycle of "I am hurt, I need sympathy and comforting because it's all so unfair'.

The potential to grow, and retain enlightening information to be able to pass on to others, is inherent in every challenge you will ever encounter. This is a fact of life. Nobody is exempted from this potential for so long as they have breath in their body.

If you notice I highlighted the word 'can' in the above paragraph. The reason being is that a typical knee-jerk response to a tough life challenge is to experience a surge of emotion, giving rise to instant anxiety and a sudden quest to find the nearest comfortable looking 'safe-space', whether physical or mental; from calling someone for help, to rushing to obtain escapism through alcohol or narcotics. This is another tragic set of statistics, alcohol and drug abuse as a result of individuals falling into despair after being afflicted by a severe life trauma or negative series of events. Challenge after issue after trauma after problem, can stack up in a literal heartbeat - and with the demands and constraints of modern society, it is all too easy to fall down, and fall hard.

The Fortunate Few

Some are fortunate enough to have supportive and caring families, or friends, while others invariably end up alone, forgotten, ignored.

There is so much sadness and suffering in the world related directly to our inadequate understanding of our true potential for overcoming the pain that life brings via those life-changing challenges that everyone will endure regardless of age, race, gender, or social status.

So, how do we discover and realize our true potential..?

How do we achieve a real state of peace of mind..?

How is it possible to rise above the pain and suffering that affects us, and undoubtedly will again and again..?

How do we interpret life's challenges as great lessons to make us wiser and stronger individuals..?

LESS ATTACHMENTS.

LESS DISTRACTIONS.

LESS WORRYING ABOUT THINGS WE CANNOT CONTROL.

MORE ACCEPTANCE.

MORE SELF CONTEMPLATION.

MORE LIVING IN THE MOMENT YOU ARE IN.

MORE COMPASSION.

Please, for a moment or two, imagine the above 7 points are titles for sections of a typical college course syllabus.

Now, imagine the course syllabus is called "My Life".

The first semester begins on the day you are born.

The last semester ends on the day you die.

Do you see the proper context now..? Is your perspective changing yet..?

Compassionate

The best way to learn in life is through hands on experience. There are things that hold true regardless of whether you are religious or not, irrespective of your beliefs - in life, that sculpt you and shape you. When you see by looking back over your life how you have been educated by the most tumultuous times and harshest challenges, you'll realize that by embracing those things that normally cause you anxiety, you can not only overcome those issues, and learn a great deal from them, but also in fact speed them right along to their conclusion - all the while maintaining a warm and compassionate heart - especially for others who you know are going through the same challenges.

Believe in yourself. The pure YOU beneath all those layers that the cold, cruel world sees daily. Cast off those layers, embrace the lessons life is teaching, and pay-it-forward by taking your hard earned wisdom to others who are suffering needlessly.