#if I’m too much of a coward to ask for comfort I’ll do it myself.

[eternallynamelessvoid]

I think I’m getting carried away with my characters again. Just a little obsessed. I mean, why bother telling your friends you want to die when you can tell your mental-besties?

At least They want me alive. Maybe I should make a list of them- well their abbreviated names. Wouldn’t want IRL people to find this. I Do Not wish to get sent to a mental hospital, I think I would actually just die.

Anyways, Lists. [What I’m naming characters below]

STB - 1a

NOA - 2a

RBN - 3a

CTH - 4a

SHO - 1b

CDR - 2b

SAP - 3b

CLN - 4b

IRI - 1c

HTH - 2c

ANM - 3c

[no fourth]

Maybe later I’ll add what they are for me, like what they do.

[Also I think it’s important to note that this is not me having DID, I am NOT a system. These characters are glorified chat-boxes.

The difference is that people in Plural-Systems are real, my characters, no matter what, won’t be fully real.]

[msfantasy-anime]

Something Stupid

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: Izuku and Y/n finally make it official

Final Part

A/n: this was my first series started on this blog and it was never finished </3 anyway a rushed ending for the sake of closure.

Well there was no denying it.

You were head over heels for that bloody broccoli coloured hero.

God, how did you let this happen? How does one not notice when they’re falling in love?!

All questions that swim laps around your spinning mind as you try to make sense at the sudden shift in your heart.

Izuku Midorya, Japans number one hero, Deku, was the man who stole your heart. More so, he ardently admitted his love for you, and what did you do in return? Run away like the bloody coward you were.

This was just meant to be fun.

Feeling far too fragile in that moment to having your feelings returned. The prospect at a happily ever after in arms reach, it’s too frightening to give in. Besides your rational thoughts, continue to tear away at your optimistic thoughts.

Your a villain, plain and simple. He cannot be with someone who engages in illegal activity, it’ll ruin him.

His fan base will not tolerate someone who isn’t Uravity, he’ll loose his supporters.

It’ll ruin his career.

You’ll distract him from his duties as a hero, you might ruin his growth.

Your thoughts continue to spin erratically, abruptly stopping at the feeling of Izuku’s hand.

“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry for putting you in that awkward position. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.” Izuku said his hand caressing your own.

You quickly pull your palm away, feeling your nerves complain at the loss of comfort. Izuku only looked down at your hand glumly, sadden at your retreat.

“I cannot be with you Deku, it’ll ruin you. I cannot do that to you.” A small sad smile plays at his lips.

“I’m grateful that you are concerned about me, but seriously, you really don’t need to be so worried about my marketing, there are ways around it.” You begin to shake your head.

“No, Izuku, you are just confused. You’re in lust, not love.” You explain. To which Izuku looked firmly into your eyes.

“I know the difference, and I am in love with you Y/n.” Your cheeks burn at the declaration. Your mind reels away, coming up with a ‘real’ explanation. There is no way he can ‘love’ you, he barely knows you. “There are many things to love about you, and many more things to learn about you, but, the thing I love most about you is your unyielding compassion for others.” It was as if his words blew your dark world away. “Your whole career is centred around returning stolen mementos to those who cannot retrieve their rightful property. Your empathy for my friends- just you care so much about others. Even now, your telling me you don’t want to be with me because your concerned about how it would effect my career. But at no point have you admitted that you don’t love me.”

You bite down on your quivering lip.

“I-I can’t.” You whisper painfully. But Izuku’s face remains stern.

“Tell me why you can’t and I’ll leave you alone. Do you not like me?” You shake your head.

“… n-no…” The corner of his mouth tugs.

“Do you not want to be with me?” He asks, making your heart clench.

“No! I-I do but-“

“But what?!” He asks firmly, you continue to squirm under the uncomfortable confrontation of having to openly admit your true feelings.

“I’m just not good enough for you.” You finally admit, half expecting Izuku to accept your answer and agree. But instead he continues to press on.

“Why?” Your thoughts come to a stuttering halt.

“I… don’t know.” But Izuku stares at you unsatisfied in your response, so you continue. “I’m just … scared.” You whisper, making Izuku hunch into the table and grabbing your hand tightly.

“I’m scared too.” He whispers making your heart thud. “I’m scared I won’t get a chance to love you the way you should be- that you’ll reject me and I’ll go home alone. I’m scared that even if I put myself out there and we get together. You’ll just stop liking me one day and it’ll all end.” But you begin shaking your head.

In what world would you just stop loving Izuku?

“Fuck it. You’re right. I-I do want to be with you but can we take it slow? Figure out out footing first before we tell our friends?”

“Deal.” Izuku agrees, leaning over and planting a lip lock kiss.

[offbrandkyoya]

[21]

m.list next

In all honesty, Kageyama didn’t want to do this.

He felt horrible for letting this situation stretch, but he feared that his crush would hate him if they found out. I guess Kageyama is a huge coward. He already made things worse by getting milk chans class wrong.

He sighs, hitting the back of his head against the wall. As a cue, Milk Chan walks out of the classroom, wanting to investigate the noise Kageyama made. “Oh! It looks like you got my class right this time.” They smile, and Kageyama awkwardly nods. “Uh yeah.”

“What’s that?” Milk Chan asks, pointing at the bag he’s holding. Kageyama straightens up and hands it over to them. “Meat buns. I bought you some.” They blush and gratefully take it. “Thank you so much. You didn’t have to.” “But I did.” There’s a bit of silence before Kageyama clears his throat.

“I was going to write your name on the bag,” he starts. “But… I don’t know how to spell your name. Milk changed their head. “You don’t know how to spell my name?” He shakes his head. “Did you sound it out?” “Yeah, but I didn’t want to be wrong.” He pauses. “And make a fool of myself.”

They simply smile. “Aw, that’s okay. I’ll write it down for you. Let me go back inside and get-“ “Wait.” Kageyama interrupts, which startles them a bit. “Is everything okay? It really isn’t a big deal.” They say, but Kageyama sighs. “I don’t actually know your name.” They blink in confusion. “Excuse me?” Kageyama looks down.

“I never knew your name from the beginning. I was going to ask, but you knew mine, and I felt terrible. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because, in reality, I wasn’t sure who you were. That doesn’t change how I feel about you, though!” Kageyama's face turns red. “I still care about you because you’re my friend! We started getting closer, and I tried to find out on my own, but I couldn’t. I felt like a terrible person lying to you for this long. I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Slowly, he looks at his crush. They stand there in disbelief, clutching the bag like it was going to vanish soon. Kageyama could tell that he had ruined what they had. Kageyama looks down again in shame. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“L/n.” He looks back at them in shock. They were smiling, and it was rather comforting. “L/n Y/n, but you can call me Y/n.” Kageyama blinks, then positions himself properly. “You’re not mad at me?” They laugh, “No, I’m not. Disappointed? A little, but I’m glad that you cleared it up. I admire your honesty.”

Kageyama blushes and scratches his head. “T-Thank you.” They laugh again. “Do you have any social media?” They ask, and he instantly responds with a yes. They exchange account information and even their numbers. Y/N smiles even more. “I have to go back now. Thank you again for the meat buns, Kageyama.”

He smiles too and nods. “You’re welcome, Y/n.” It felt so nice saying their name, and seeing how delighted they were to hear it just made his stomach bubble. “Bye.” They waved, and he waved back. “Bye.”

YIPPEE YN

fucking finally tired of calling yall milk chan

jk rip milk chan 😢😢💔💔💔💔💔

@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll @asp7n @hrkdlsjz @lucky-chars @azharyy @gigiiiiislife @ahnneyong @rouzuchan @bakarinnie @djmoyolehuani @rinheartshyunlix @weirdowithaphone @luvvmae @diorzs @stefnarda @ilovecandys2010 @samvagejkflxhrt @fishrene @goldenchildee @empress-pug-pug @muskratlove @krak-jj @romyoia @yukii-1 @lovingvi

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Act two

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort but not really, Ophelia is trash, Larissa is bbygirl, lesbians being lesbians, awkward

Pt1: Andromeda

Larissa awaited as the parents rolled in, she greeted each with a smile before she saw Andromeda and Wednesday walking. Her breath caught in her throat you were still just as gorgeous as you had been during your time at Nevermore.

You smiled softly once you caught sight of the blonde, the girls rolling their eyes Larissa was quick to make an appearance. “Y/n, It’s been forever but I’m so glad to see you again” her eyes sparkled never once dimming with Morticia’s side comments.

“Likewise Larissa” your voice was soft as your hands rested on the girl’s shoulders “It’s been too long” it was becoming awkward. Morticia cleared her throat “moving along with the pleasantries the girls had something they wanted to show us”.

Gomez nodded like a lost dog, “well I guess I’ll see you later” you nodded before Andromeda had dragged you off in tow of Wednesday. Larissa was surprised not to have Ophelia with you but she noted the wedding rings on your necklace.

-

You didn’t see much of the blonde during the day until after dark, you stood on the dock where you both would once sit watching the stars. “I see you kept your promise” Larissa called as she neared closer, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I wasn’t going to name Andy that at first but Ophelia insisted it” you sighed not turning around “you never came to the wedding”. Larissa’s brows furrowed “Wedding? Y/n/n I was never invited to a wedding” she spoke softly as stood by your side “I wrote out the invitations and Ophelia sent them out” .

“I’m telling you that I never got an invite but maybe it’s best I hadn’t gone” she breathed out looking down at you “why’s that?” You asked almost sadly. “I probably would’ve tried to stop the wedding” Larissa shrugged, you didn’t know how to feel before the blonde pulled you to sit with her.

“You couldn’t have Morticia so would go after Ophelia?” You scoffed you were angry but you weren’t understanding the underlining of Larissa’s words. “It was never about them Y/n” her hand found your thigh “sure I had chased after Morticia at one stage but she wasn’t as gorgeous as you, she didn’t make my breath catch and words disappear she wasn’t you”.

You turned to face the woman “I was in love with you but I knew I would never stand a chance, I never stood a chance with Tish either but… it was you who I had wanted. Ophelia knew that hell everyone besides you knew, but I was a coward then and the night I asked you to the Raven I knew it was a loss and I was too late”

“Ophelia had won the girl we were both fighting for, while I took lessons from Morticia she buttered you up. I was scared of rejection because who in their right mind would even date me” she laughed but it wasn’t humorous. “Me” you stated looking at her with tears in her eyes “Larissa I had loved you and I told you that night but it wasn’t the same anymore, I thought I was- that you wanted Morticia because oh god” you cried. “I had hated myself and you were so gorgeous and Tish was stunning but now my life has fallen to shit Lissa” you sobbed breaking the blondes heart.

“What do you do when pretty isn’t pretty enough?”

“Ophelia didn’t love me at first but we made it work after we had Andy, we fell in and out of love for many years until she passed” Larissa pulled you into her side “I’m sorry for your loss” she whispered kissing your head. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for rambling” you blinked tears away “it’s nothing really” Larissa smiled before her eyes glimmered.

You both sat silently for a moment “would you like to go to the wethervane tomorrow? I believe I still owe you that date” you nodded softly as you leaned into her warmth.

The next day you both delved deeper into your lives from since you had left Nevermore, Ophelia had been a doctor and you were now a writer. While Larissa had gone to Cambridge and then set a new start at Nevermore, you had gotta married young and had Andromeda not long after. Larissa never married or had children, that was a life she only saw with you she told herself what a dream to come home every day to a family and you more so.

Larissa’s gaze never wavered the entire morning as you spoke “would you do it again?” She asked softly “I wouldn’t have Andromeda otherwise” you shrugged with a sad smile. “She’s everything to me, the good and bad. I wouldn’t know a life without her she’s my girl”.

The blonde nodded along “although I did often wonder what it would have been like if I never married Ophelia. If I accepted your request to the Raven would I still have Andy I was so hurt, Lissy. You really hurt me and I let you willingly carve my heart like it was clay, I love you Larissa I really do- did but it didn’t stop my fantasies”

"I often wondered too, if I had swallowed my fears and asked you from the start would we be here? sitting so closely at the wethervane as if the years hadn't passed us. would we have children of our own or would you become that famous ballerina you had dreamed of being, I paid attention even when you thought I wasn't like when you changed from glasses to contacts. I prefer the glasses they seemed more natural and I got to see your hands more as they adjusted them. I listened to every career choice you had over the years and although I want to change the outlook of normies and outcasts a very selfish part of me"

Larissa swallowed hard "Made me stay at Nevermore hoping that you would have a child it didn't matter who with as long as I would get to see you one last time". You looked at her with tears in your eyes but a goofy grin "You're the principal Larissa, you could've just held a reunion but you truly are the sweetest soul I have ever met and I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out my geeky girl".

"Do you think we could ever try again?" she asked with a light blush as she ducked her head slightly "Slowly but surely"

[ragingbookdragon]

The Soul's Tethers

Kotallo x Reader

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: I FUCKING LOVE THIS MAN SO GODDAMN MUCH. -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The Nora had come through the window of her shelter before she’d even realized what was happening, and it was only until the two were in the floor, split lips and busted eyebrows that the two understood that they weren’t each other’s enemy—especially when the horde of stalkers rushed down below the trees. They’d assisted the other in taking them out and when they were reveling in their spoils, she invited the Noran back up until the rain had stopped.

She handed the girl, Aloy, a bowl of stew and tossed a log into the fire, sitting down beside her. “You’re quite a ways from Noran lands, Aloy.”

Aloy huffed sardonically. “I tell myself that every day.” As she ate, she couldn’t help but gaze curiously at the woman. “What tribe do you belong to?”

“I was once a part of the Sky Clan, though I claim it no longer.” Her expression soured. “My uncle…he betrayed me.”

“Who’s your uncle?”

“Tekotteh.”

Aloy blinked and looked at the fire, muttering, “I feel bad for you.”

“I appreciate that,” she replied, sharpening her knife, gazing towards the sky. “He was different when I was a child and younger woman. But power changed him. He is no longer the man I once respected.”

“How…did he betray you?”

Her gaze turned almost sad as she answered, “I fell in love with one of the boys he was mentoring. We…grew up together and were always close. But as he got older, and stronger, my love grew, and my uncle saw that I was loyal to him more. He sent my love away to become a marshal for Hekarro.” Her hands moved absentmindedly along the metal. “I saw through Tekotteh’s reasoning. And when Tekotteh told me he was killed at the embassy, I spoke out against him. Called him a coward and a traitor to our people. He banished me for disloyalty to the clan.” She shifted, taking the empty bowl from Aloy. “I’ve been here ever since in grieving. Away from my people. On my own…it’s…comforting somehow.”

Aloy frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Her expression turned solemn. “I was there, y’know? At the embassy? I tried my best to get as many out as I could.” She sighed. “I wish I could’ve saved your lover. What was his name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Kotallo,” she said, a sad smile playing her lips. “His name was Kotallo.”

Aloy froze, not even blinking as the Tenakth continued to talk about him, then she blurted out, “Did you just say Kotallo?”

“I did?” her brows drew together. “Why?”

“Kotallo’s not—he’s—” Aloy shook her head. “Kotallo’s alive.”

Shock bled into her posture and face as she gaped at the Noran. “What?”

“Kotallo survived the Embassy Massacre. He’s still alive.”

“He—he is?” she started rising. “Can you take me to him? I—I want to see him. Please, Aloy, take me to Kotallo.”

Aloy was already grabbing her bow and spear, rising too. “Yeah, absolutely, c’mon.” she paused and looked back at her. “Tekotteh told you that Kotallo was killed?”

Anger drew along her, nostrils flaring in rage as she spat, “I’ll kill him.”

“Get in line.”

***

She was quite baffled by the technology that Aloy’s base contained, but nevertheless, she was grateful for the new Focus, beginning to understand a little of the mission that the Noran had explained to her along the way. The companions that Aloy kept were pleasant enough, but she hadn’t yet seen Kotallo; it was only when Zo explained that the man had gone to hunt that she somewhat relaxed, sitting in the common room, waiting nervously for the man she hadn’t seen in almost two years.

Zo sat down beside her and handed her a cup. “Here, some tea for your nerves.”

“I’m not nervous,” she retorted, but took the cup anyway. “I’m fine.”

The Utaru smiled knowingly. “Drink.”

She did as Zo said and took a few sips, the warmth bleeding down her throat. “I haven’t seen Kotallo in almost two years. I…don’t know how to greet him.”

“Aloy said your uncle told you he had died.”

“I assume it was to somehow relieve me of my love and force me to marry someone else.”

“Yet you did not.”

She glared into the cup. “I saw through his manipulations when he sent Kotallo away to become a Marshal.”

“You never forgot.”

“And I will never forgive either,” she added, looking up when the door opened and a man’s voice she recognized so well echoed through.

“Erend, I do believe you owe me a drink because I in fact found not one, but two stags.”

The Oseram groaned and dropped his head on the table as the Tenakth warrior came around the corner, looking around the common room, but his eyes stopped on her.

She rose to her feet, hands pressed to her chest as her throat tightened, tears filling her eyes; she didn’t know what to say as he stepped in, his own eyes wide, mouth parted in shock.

“You—you’re here,” he breathed, and she nodded wordlessly, unable to fight the tears dropping down her cheeks.

“He told me you were killed at the embassy,” she managed through a clenched throat. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I—” she crossed the floor to him in slow steps, reaching up to touch his chest. “But you’re here…alive.” Her eyes dropped to his left arm, and he frowned.

“No, I did not die…but I did not walk away unscathed.” He looked back at her. “In my state…I do not know if you wish to be with me. I…am not as worthy a warrior as I once was.”

Her hands were soft against the roughness of his dried paint, cupping his face, thumbs brushing over his scars and cheekbones, pulling them until their foreheads touched. “My Kotallo,” she whispered, nuzzling their noses like traditional lovers did in their culture. “My tether.”

He tipped his head to the side. “There is someone worthy of you. Please, do not waste your love on me.”

“The only man worthy of my soul is you.” She pulled away enough to see into his eyes, wiping the tears that had grown in his. “You are my tether, Kotallo. My soul is yours. It always has been. It always will be. And no amount of limbs lost will ever change such.” She smiled through her tears. “I have missed you so, my tether.”

Kotallo let out a breath and shut his eyes, voice soft, but so strong as he replied, “And I have missed you, my soul.”

[cookiecomics]

Anonymous Coward asked: sometimes it’s not even just whiteness (referring to a tweet of yours) but just like how pervasive every part of it can be. ignorance of culture, policing and harassment of others, assumptions about what everyone else’ experience should be. Like sometimes it isn’t even visible but you can just… tell???? how much a space is affected by whiteness as a concept (idk if im making sense. anyways)

No, you get it lol. It isn't something you can see if you're not outside of that bubble, but you can feel it and at times it's very unbearable. White people a lot of the times do not notice how white a space is and how it trickles down to accepted idea, accepted faces, perceived kindness and grace. But I also cannot understate how people don’t find it odd how hard it is to find black folks in the same fandom spaces as everyone despite us being huge nerds just like everyone else and folks don’t think about why that is you know? They don’t see a server and ask if it’s safe for black folks, they don’t wonder these things because they feel comfortable and that’s what matters. Honestly, being in fandom feels like that time I went to a karaoke party and I was the only black person there and everyone was playing songs I had never heard in my life.

 I couldn’t relate, I couldn’t engage, I had to smile the whole time because I need to be having fun right? Even when given the power to pick a song, to play a song I know that no one else can relate to would kill the vibe. There’s always this element of ‘you compromise not us’. At that same party a song with slurs was put on and there were yt folks singing at the top of their lungs. The other half were not or skipping the slurs when they show up and they thought that was enough. They thought not being racist themselves was enough. No one asked how I was doing because I have to be fine lmao. Anyways, that’s what it’s like to be in fandom where you can hardly find people that look like you or understand you experiences while everyone else is having fun. I’ve been sitting here wishing I could talk about specifics (I do have them) but unfortunately, I do not think that’s a good idea and the last thing I want is negative attention rn, so I’ll try to be as vague as possible. 

Plus people would hella disagree with me lmao. The safest example I can talk about isn’t even p5 specific, but I spoke about this with a friend on why Geto isn’t one of my favourite characters or more broadly why I don’t ship satosugu. I like Geto just fine mind you! I think he’s cool. And I think Satosugu is a great ship. However. I invite you whoever is reading this to imagine why I, a black person, may not exactly jive with a character whose favourite insult and dehumanizing phrasing is to call people he sees as beneath him as a monkey. I’ve never even touched satosugu fic lmfao because dear lord, I couldn’t in the manga and I wouldn’t willingly subject myself to that. 

Not saying it happens, but to be in character, I imagine it would lmao. And the same goes for Morgana! I saw a tweet the other day like “I don’t trust people who don’t like Morgana.” And I see this tweet like twice a week, (different people mind u) And every time I’m like, I simply did not enjoy Morgana calling Ryuji a monkey. It made me uncomfortable, (it’s not gonna make every black person uncomfortable but I know Plum was at least taken back by it) but to open up that discussion would make me look aggressive wouldn’t it? ESPECIALLY again, Ryuji is very black coded but I’m not touching that topic with a ten foot pole. People don’t really think too hard outside of their experiences and it’s alienating. Not to mention when I brought up a conversation about experiencing micro aggressions the overall response despite having a larger account at the time was silence and disappointment, by people I thought I was closer with than that too. 

It was a wake up call and I haven’t been able to feel right in the fandom since. Absolutely nothing would happen or something minor would happen (like Hazbin releasing a fucking Slurs shirt which thanks Viz. And this is coming from someone who laughed at the joke in the show because it was *just* the show) and it would dredge all this pain up all over again. Anyways, that’s my ramble, it sucks fandom is like this but I don’t see that ever changing because as I told Plum, bringing up race in their spaces is something yt folks do not like to do so

(https://retrospring.net/@CookieComics/a/112944476253264310)

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (final) preview

series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 1.4k

dear y/n,

i am finally writing this letter. i’ve sat down many times attempting to do so, sometimes barely able to get through the first line and sometimes i’ll read the first paragraph i wrote only to throw it away, completely unsatisfied. but it’s been four years–at least at the time that i’m writing this–that i’ve last seen you. four years since we saw each other and we probably won’t for a very long time, if ever.

it would be a miracle for me if i was to ever cross paths with you even just one more time, but it would be a tragedy for you because i’d like to think fate wouldn’t be so cruel to put you through that. so i write this letter with the thought that you would most likely never see it, but i did promise myself that if fate really is that cruel and we were to cross paths again, i would give it to you. it’s a bit selfish of me, but it’s because i know the chance of ever seeing you again is close to none. but it’s also everything i’ve ever wanted to tell you; say to you. i want to apologize sincerely, even though it’s a little too late. in a way, this letter is also an outlet for me and my thoughts.

it’s been about a year since i’ve graduated and around this time of the year, i always get a little sentimental. could be because i’m so far away from home so it’s only natural, but i know it’s because it’s summer and i tend to associate the season with you. we did a lot together and you opened some parts of me i couldn’t say or admit at the time.

you would always used to tell me to just try whenever i didn’t see the worth in doing something and i honestly just dismissed it because it sounded silly and quite cliche. i thought it was ironic coming from someone so shy and timid who always looked at the world with so much fear in her eyes. now, i’m starting to understand the amount of courage it must've taken you to even go out of your comfort zone. i realized, i was so much of a coward in comparison despite thinking i was the hottest shit at the time.

i always ran, but you never did. i was so scared of anything new and unfamiliar but you always faced them even when there's a likely chance of failure. i treated you like shit and you still wanted to love me. i think about it often... why are you this way? but i won't ever know because i never put in the efforts to get to know you beyond what you could offer me. you always asked about me but i never did the same in return.

if i could redo everything, i would want to hear your story. i would love to read anything you write. i said i would, but i never did.

i'm in the states, i'm sure somewhat and somehow you probably already know that (or you probably don't because you don't care anymore, which is fair). i left right before the start of the second semester during sophomore year. it was a big decision for sure, but i needed the change. things were already getting stale and repetitive, and you know me... i am not one to stick in one place for too long. i will always run, and so i ran to the states to live with my sister.

other than the fact i was born there and half of my family resides there, at that point, there was nothing left for me in korea. i didn't have much to lose if i were to fly across an ocean and start anew.

wooyoung had already cut contact with me by then and any friends close to genuine i've ever had were all from associations with him. soon after, i realized anyone i still talked to were all phonies who i only hung around during parties and stupid rendezvous, with the exception of jongho. he got into yonsei, by the way. if you didn't see him pestering you on campus, you probably already picked that up. he sent me a message a few months ago to come back and attend his graduation but i told him to fuck off because he didn't attend mine either. good for him, though. he's a smart kid.

but yeah. wooyoung's a good person even if he grew up privileged. it's what makes him such a people magnet. he was the most genuine friend i've ever had and the one who stuck by me for the longest. i really took him for granted and it only hit me when i lost him.

you are fortunate to have someone like mingi and yunho who seems very protective. i was a little scared when wooyoung warned me about mingi because he threatened to knock me out if he ever sees me. he's much taller than me, so i don't doubt it.

i know i sound miserable so far, but i am actually doing pretty okay... unfortunately. you probably don't want to hear that and wish i was suffering, but i've suffered for maybe two and a half years before i finally felt somewhat content and okay, if that will make you feel any better.

the states is different and the people are as well. i've got to experience a lot of new things for a change.

when i transferred, i still didn't know what to do. the clock was ticking and there was only so little time before i had to pick a field. i ended up going into dance performance, and of course i thought of you. when i found a passion for it again, i thought of you. and when i graduated last year with a fine arts degree, i thought of you... all because i knew you would be the happiest to hear about it.

whenever anyone asked me why i don't want to come back home, i would always tell them what i told you: because there's nothing left there for me. but one of the biggest reasons why i didn't want to come back was because it reminded me of you too much. that, coupled with other factors, just makes it so much harder for me to want to return. it feels like reopening old emotional wounds that i have no one else to blame for but myself.

but my junior year, i met someone named yeonjun because we shared the same major. i get nostalgic sometimes because he often reminded me of wooyoung. speaking of wooyoung again, i sent him a similar letter but in email form a while ago, though not as long, and he said he was happy to hear from me again. i wasn't sure if he was going to reply at all because it was an old email and i assumed he probably wanted nothing to do with me and that was official. but he replied pretty fast and said if i ever returned to korea, he doesn't mind catching up. he went into business and said it's something he actually really enjoys.

yeonjun is cool though, and like a less annoying version of wooyoung. he was also a transfer but had been here longer than i have. he met his girlfriend online who's living in south korea and so after he graduated, he went back right away and said he was going to attempt to open his own studio. just about a month ago, he called me and said it's almost done and he would be recruiting. he wants me to come back and help him and i've been giving it some consideration because i'm not doing much here back at the states either.

i was hesitant at first, of course. all for the reasons i've already stated, but all i ever do i run and even i'm growing tired of it. no matter how many bad memories the place holds, it is still home and my motherland after all.

anyways, i apologize for rambling. the letter is getting way too long, but my point is, i might've started liking you at one point. not in the casual way that our relationship was, but actually really like you. i don't know. now that i'm older, it's true that the love you've given me was something i was not ready for at that time and age. and now, it's everything i wish i have. funny how time really does change a person.

i hope you are doing good for yourself, and i'm so sorry if you ever get the chance to read this letter.

-- choi san

[pweewee]

i see that requests are open so in that case... can i get some genji fluff? i have nothing specific to ask for, im just in dire need of genji lmao

YESYESYES OFCCC <333

genji fluff!!

Gender neutral reader

warnings: none <3!

NOT PROOFREAD ‼️

Genji fluff headcanons

- Genji tends too hold a movie night for the both of you, with your favorite snacks and drinks.

- he always tries to make a pillow fort but, he instead ends up getting stuck in the blankets. He has to wait for you to help him.

- he ALWAYS puts on disney movies. Its a must <3

- you guys have watched The little mermaid 6 times now…

- if he catches you sleeping during the movie, he’ll do the classic feather and shaving cream prank.

- he’ll feel bad after so he cuddles with you <3

It was 1 in the morning and you were getting ready to go to sleep, when you got an unexpected call “who the hell is calling me at this ungodly hour...?”, you groaned. You wearily picked up the phone and a familiar name popped up ‘green cyborg ninja dude’ you immediately perked up and answered it.

“hellooo.”

‘Hey.’

“Is everything ok?”

‘Yeah I’m ok’

he pauses.

‘Except this one tiny thing.’

“And that is?”

‘I may or may not have been trying to build a pillow fort for movie night but have gotten stuck in the blankets.’

“Again?”

‘Yeah..’

“It’s ok I’ll come over and get you out.

‘Thanks, I love you.’

“love you too idiot.”

You hung up the phone and got ready “Why is he setting up a movie night right now?”, you wonder. As soon as you arrived, you opened the door and saw Genji rolled up in a purple blanket next to an unfinished pillow fort, “Finally you’re here!” he let out a sigh of relief.

You chuckle to yourself and roll him to the other side, “Heyyy what are you doing?” Genji mumbles. “Making sure you stay in that blanket forever, I’m gonna watch The little mermaid all by myself” you teased. “Noo please!” he pouts, “fine, but only this one time”. You roll him out of the violet blanket, and he hugs you. “Thank you i thought you were gonna leave me in there all night” he fake cries, you feel a smile forming on your face “you know I never would do that Genji”.

“Yeah you love me too much”, he grins, you roll your eyes, “Now can you help me finish building the pillow fort, I wanna watch tangled with you.” you agree instantly. After a long 15 minutes of struggling and confusion, the fort was completely set up, it had both of your favorite snacks, drinks, pizza and some stuffed toys, “Finally we can relax” he crawls into the fort and sits down, you follow along and sit next to him, laying your head in his shoulder. He eagerly opens up the movie and moves closer to you with your hand in his.

As the movie went on you slowly drifted into sleep and of course, genji noticed, he decided this was the best time to take revenge on you for teasing him. He carefully placed you onto the stuffed toys and began to initiate his “brilliant” plan, he came back with a feather and shaving cream from his room. Genji sprayed shaving cream onto your hand and tickled your cheek with the feather. “what is that”, you mumble, half asleep, but you continued to disregard it anyway. He tickled your face even more until you couldn’t ignore it anymore and scratched your face, only to be met with a weird foamy texture. “What the hell genji!”, you yelped with the shaving cream now covering half your face. Genji bursted out laughing when he saw the look on your face while you glared at him, “You have to admit it was funny!”, he smiled, handing you a towel. you snatch the towel away from him and wipe your face. “You’re a coward and history will forget you.”, you huffed. “I’m sorryy!” he said, kissing your forehead, “I’ll give you cuddles to make up for it.” Genji said, making him self comfortable in the blankets. “I would like that…” you said, in a tired tone. he kisses you again and wraps his arm around you, pulling you under the covers, falling asleep with you as the movie kept playing.

AAA THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A REQUEST. hope i did well <3 and i certainly hope this meets your standards!! Ty for requesting.

(so sorry if theres any punctuational errors or grammatical errors <\3)

[acatalystrising]

hi eliza! song for writing prompt: infrunami by steve lacy

Hi hi!!

Thanks so much for the ask, and the lovely song! I had to write this with Daimyo Boba because, well, the song simply demands it! I hope you enjoy!

Even from a distance, you looked like pure starlight.

The blinding heat of the desert had faded away - burning sands and bloodied suns replaced with softer hues of lilac and turquoise, painting the sky unlike any artist could ever hope to capture. Lively music from inside the palace floated in the cool breeze that played coyly with the edges of your dress. It curled against your calves and trailed behind you like wings.

To put it simply, it took Boba’s breath away. And for the fifth time in one evening alone, he mentally cursed his aloof ignorance.

“If you keep sulking in the shadows, boss,” Fennec slid beside him with a knowing grin, arms crossed, “I’ll make a move on her myself.”

Boba grunted, his narrowed eyes and near possessive expression hidden behind his helmet.

“Didn’t know that’s how she felt.” When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, even more gravelly than usual. “Wouldn’t have done. Kriff, wouldn’t have said…”

“Mistakes happen. In our profession, they’re usually lethal.” Fennec lifted an angled brow, gesturing at you with a jerk of her chin. “This won’t kill you.”

For once, Boba wondered if she was wrong.

“Take a chance.” She pushed herself off the wall and turned to go back inside. “If you want her, show her.”

Karking hell, he felt more comfortable with disintegrating people than talking to them, much less wooing one. And after the blunder he’d made…

He was moving forward before he could stop, much less control, the action. Damn, what had gotten into him? His heart was pounding like a drum, mirroring every footstep that drew him closer to you. He was on the balcony too quickly, his thoughts still a jumbled mess, even as you turned, the sharp downturn of your lip quirking further.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” You looked out to the dunes, frown settling like stone. He noticed your fingers grip the railing tighter, the twitch of your cheek. You weren’t afraid, you were hurt. “Please…leave me alone.”

Boba hated that everything in him instantly withered. The urge to slip away to the safety of Slave 1 was so tempting, but…

“If that’s what you wish,” he took a careful step backward, forcing a softness to his tone that he remembered his father using. “I…wanted to apologize.”

Your brow flew up at that. Clearly, it wasn’t something you’d expected.

“But...” Boba gave you a nod before turning to walk away. “Won’t trouble you any further.”

“Wait,” your voice was both harsh and soft, like shards of glass swaying in the ocean, ready to cut, or to wash away - all depending on what happened next. “I…should apologize too. I was…foolish. Foolish to think that you actually would…”

A forlorn shadow flitted in your gaze, swallowing the light in your eyes. It crushed Boba to see it, even more so knowing that he’d caused it.

“I shouldn’t have entertained the thought. So I’m sorry for getting upset over something stupid.” A stray tear slipped down your cheek, which you quickly brushed away with a casual swipe of your finger, but not before he noticed. “You’re our Daimyo. A powerful hunter. You could have anyone you want, it was silly of me to think that I stood a-“

“Mesh’la.” Boba took a tentative step forward, heart breaking a million times over when you looked up at him, those beautiful eyes glassy with tears. You tried so hard to be stoic, to be brave, even as he stopped before you. “Never should have said those things. It’s not your fault. I was afraid…”

“You, afraid?” You raised a brow, too curious now to back away. “Of letting me down? Of worrying I wouldn’t take it well?”

“No. Quite the opposite.” He sighed, lifting his hands to his helmet. The last thing he needed to be now was a coward, and he couldn’t keep hiding. Once it was removed, he met your probing gaze. “I do want you, little one. Was afraid you wouldn’t be interested. Figured I’d encourage you to pursue someone younger. But I didn’t know…”

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stars, this wasn’t easy. He flinched when he felt a warm hand rest over his own. When he opened his eyes, you were beside him, watching him with something he swore could be interpreted as hope.

“Didn’t know what?” Your voice had taken a gentler tone, the fire dimming, replaced with a soft yearning.

“If you’d want me.” Boba watched you closely, waiting for you to pull away, but you didn’t. In fact, you leaned in closer. “Was afraid, princess. But everything I’ve ever wanted was right there, all along, and I’d been too blind to see.”

Silence fell, save for the wind that whipped through your hair and the music that gradually faded away. You watched him, the shadows fleeing, and your frown slowly, every so slowly, curved into a shy smile.

“You mean that?” Your voice was shaky, a blush flushing your cheeks when he brushed a thumb over your chin, lifting your face to meet his.

“I do.” He met your gaze with a smile of his own. “Could we…start over? Give this another shot?”

“I…” your gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Yes, Boba. I’d like that, so much…”

“Good,” he smiled fully this time, stepping beside you as you both shifted to face the dunes. “If you were wondering, mesh’la, of everyone in that palace, I only ever wanted you.”

[macabremoons]

Midas' Prologue

TW: Grimoire being himself, sicko for sicko romance, possessive behavior, anxiety, and general dark themes.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: "Wow, Moon," you ask with sweet innocence, "you're four concept stories in. Are you closer to understanding this wip?" No. No, I'm not. Honestly while I like this I still haven't untapped Grimoire's true insanity. One day, truly. Oh! Sabelina's name has been changed to Annabella <3 Anyway enjoy!!

Rain taps on outside of my tent. I try my best to relax to the sound, but the smell of petrichor takes my mind right back to where it was running from. 

The sword shifts from more to less than an itch away from my face. Cassander smiles down at me, and my mind is flown back to my father. All this effort, and he regards me with the same causal power. 

I bite the inside of my cheek. I can afford this time to recoup, but I can not afford to be consumed by fear. I still have to find a way to get out of Cassander’s hands. I’ve escaped them temporarily, but he will be back, even madder than before now that Grimoire has killed so many of his men. I’ve steeled myself through many things on this trip. Corpses, infected wounds, screaming soldiers. This matter is not different. Rather, I refuse it to be.

The tent flap goes up, and I go deathly still. I resist the urge to cover the tear marks on my face, but then I see who it is and sigh.

“Grimoire, you still need to announce yourself before walking into my tent.” To my delight, my voice doesn’t waver.

“My deepest apologies, my lady. I am a bit tired, so it must have slipped my mind.” 

“Tired? You?”

Grimoire laughs softly, flopping onto his side of the tent.  “Yes, me; tired. As violent by nature might I be, too much of it is still exhausting.”

My eyes dart away. He wouldn’t be so tired if he hadn’t had to save me from Cassander. It strings—seeing my exact failure stare back at me. Worst yet, Grimoire has been very obedient lately, and said obedience allowed me to make mistakes. His resistance before had felt like a curse, but now feels like a blessing in disguise.

“We’ll take a break then. I have many things to do,” I say. He doesn’t reply. He’s drifting off, but he looks tense. “Wait, Grimoire.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Sleep in my bed tonight. The floor is not enough for proper rest.”

Grimoire opens his eyes, staring into mine. His eyes stake through me completely, but I stand my ground. I must look ridiculous, but if I want respect, I must demand it in any circumstance. A king that can not be mocked by his jester is a coward, after all.

He wordlessly gets up and slides into my bed with me, face down. He’s quite close to my thighs. Too close, even. Though there is only so much space in the bed for him to be comfortable. I’ll just bear through it. 

“Might I ask one question?” Grimoire whispers. 

A single question in a lifetime of servitude. “I don’t see why not.”

“Does the taste of violence satisfy you?”

I begin to regret my kindness immediately. “I’m not sure I understand.”

He turns to look at me. “Violence is blood, and blood is life essence, at least for me. For you it’s power, no? But power at the hands of violence is an acquired taste. Do you like it?”

My fingers curl around the blanket. “I’m not scared of violence.”

“Mhm? I didn’t think so.” His lips ghost my skin, but I am too angered to be embarrassed by it. “No, no. You’ve been in too many battles to be scared of violence. I just don’t see that you enjoy it.”

“It’s a means to an end.”

“So you don’t enjoy it?”

“I am not sadist, Grimoire. Of course I do not enjoy violence.”

“But you enjoy the power it brings?”

Is he of all people suggesting pacifism to me? Grimoire reeks of blood.. He’s washed of it now, but you can see it in his very soul. Or the nook it used to be in. Nothing I could do would compare to him.

“Ah,” Grimoire hums. “That is more than one question. No pressure to answer, my love.”

A way out of this conversation. An easy solution, I do not take those anymore. Grimoire’s words could be excused with exhaustion, or it could be that exhaustion is letting him say what he really feels about me. If so, I need to know this. Grimoire is my greatest ally, and therefore my greatest enemy.

“I do enjoy the power it brings. Words can only get one so far. Or, perhaps ,they could get a different person farther, but I am not in a position to be propelled far by them. You know I had to fight just to be here.”

“Verbally, but yes.”

“We wouldn’t still be here if I did not resort to violence.”

“We wouldn’t be, no.”

The format of his words irk me. “You have more to say.”

Grimoire sighs. “Wouldn’t it be better if you were in the bed, like I am? You deserve rest too, you know. We are not in a battlefield, my lady, no need to be so tense.”

I should deny him, but I am tired. I sink into the bed. A sparkle goes through Grimoire’s eyes, but his expression does not change. Something, too, goes through me. Grimoire is my familiar, but he is still a man. This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with one. 

"Well?" I press.

"Time takes most things despite how tough they are. Maybe I just worry it will take the fire you have with it.”  Grimoire gives another soft laugh. “Or maybe it’s not my place to say at all. Yet, your desire is so warm. Ah, I’d miss it.”

Warm? The rain has me frigid cold, and I can’t stop shivering from fear. Grimoire thinks too highly of me. I wonder if it’s delusion from living for so long or another part of his… charm.

His words make me even colder. He’s slightly right. I find myself not missing the men lost in battle until I have to send letters home. It’s easy to have poison testers until they find poison. Does this make life not worth living? Does this mean that my dreams should not be achieved just because I might feel differently about them years later? An easy answer comes to mind.

“Maybe I’ll puke on the taste of bloody luxury later, but I am certain that starvation kills. I do not have the hindsight to tell you you’re wrong, but—” Words catch in my throat. They scramble away from me, leaving only the truth that lets me sleep at night. “I have to become more than my father’s daughter.”

Grimoire stares into my soul one last time before smiling wide enough I can almost see his fangs. “We will have to find out together then, mhm? I am excited to see it. Whether you like your Midas’ touch or not, I’ll stick with you. High heaven or low hells—they’re all the same to me, my lady.”

“Such is the life of a familiar,” I murmur. My tiredness is catching up to me, but I force myself to stay awake. 

Grimoire leans in closer. “Sleep. No one will harm you by my side.”

As I drift off, I call back to my own thoughts: greatest ally, greatest enemy.

Taglist (ask to be added!!): @anonymousfoz, @stesierra, @leisoree, @immortaladrien, @lyra-brie

[cloudsourcing]

omg to be honest…sometimes I do feel like I must be delusional to think my school crush could be into me, but then I’m like…wait is that real or am I just bullying myself into thinking that I’m imagining things?? … cus I’m pretty realistic and good at picking up on vibes, so I can’t be too off base with what’s happening there. I don’t think that my school crush likes me and I don’t know if I like him, but at the very least I think we’re intrigued by one another, which is so exciting to me lol i feel like the tension and attraction is pretty palpable whenever we’re both in class! Except I’m too much of a coward and can never look whatever/whomever I desire right in the eye. But also one important thing that happened was that in the third or fourth week of the semester, the guy who usually sits next to me in class wasn’t there so my crush sat there instead of his regular seat. So we worked together on this project and he said something really nice to me and I remember how comfortable and safe I felt sitting next to him…not excited or anxious but that feeling of being exactly where I needed to be. Nothing felt out of place. Anyway, I feel so dumb bc that was definitely the moment I should’ve asked for his name or made more of an attempt to flirt or whatever but again, I’m a coward!!! He’s too nice and literally so cool that I just can’t look at him or even bring myself to approach him! Ahhhh okay that’s enough I just get anxious because we are half way through the semester and I wonder if maybe I should try to talk to him or let the cards fall where they may…(except I’m a Leo and if I don’t take control of a situation or at least make an effort, then I’ll go nuts idk)

[untamedyouth]

12/16/23

3 AM

How ironic is it that I wrote an entry less than 24 hours ago saying how so many things have happened— good, bad, everything in between, but I was too tired to discuss all of it.

Tonight, right before going to bed, I started to debrief with my mom.

I asked her how she had her day planned for tomorrow, and then I began to tell her mine.

After saying all that I intended to do; my dad suggests I take my dog Talulah for a walk.

I completely understand my dad meant no hard in this suggestion, but because I have felt pressured to be active in the past due to my weight and laziness.

I wanted to explain to him how that suggestion makes me uncomfortable for that reason BUT I know he doesn’t mean it maliciously, I only wanted to talk about how it made me feel…. Especially knowing that he meant no harm. I know it wasn’t necessary to tell him, but I am trying to create a bond between he and I where we understand each other… and the only way to do that is by talking about our feelings.

But upon trying to tell him, I didn’t make it past “daddy, it kinda makes me uncomfortable when..” before he threw his hands up in the air out of obvious frustration. Upon that reaction, I react hurt and angrily “seriously? I can’t even communicate with you??”

I tried to be so gentle, I wasn’t angry or upset, I tried my best to ease into what I was about to say but that still wasn’t good enough.

They say they want to talk to me, but when I try to talk to them it seems as though I’m trying to start an argument.

Mom intervenes and we all agree to stop the fight.

Still feeling very upset, I go upstairs to my mother and I ask for validation that that just happened.

I started to complain about daddy, too cruelly I will admit. … It’s only because I love him so much. I wish I was born a boy so then both of my parents would like me.

I took my complaining too far, I should have known better. Here I am bad mouthing her husband.

It turns volatile. Screaming ensues, threats, sobbing, cruel things said between all three of us, but ultimately I take the brunt of it.

I’m not trying to live in the past… I only wanted to communicate and explain, It wasn’t an attack, because I was well aware that he didn’t mean it badly. It wasn’t until his reaction triggered my reaction to him.

I should have known better. I am the one in therapy, not them.

As I sit sobbing in the corner of my parents bedroom, I am told that; they are bending over backwards for me, they’re taking care of my chores for me, they are doing everything they can to change for me, and yet I still continue to attack them even though they’re doing everything they best they can.

But I know that already… I just wanted to talk..

Once I realized that it doesn’t matter how I perceived the interaction, I was wrong no matter what; thus I forced myself to get up and allow them to comfort me.

That was the hardest thing in the world. After hearing about all the responsibilities I am neglecting because I am so mentally ill, only to be hugged, comforted, and told “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it, I was just angry”

I realized that the only way I’ll be a good girl in the eyes of my parents is I maintain a happy, pleasant persona, and bottle up any and all emotions to appear appropriate.

This realization made me spiral even further into my darkness. If I’m unable to make my parents happy, why am I even here? Why was I born. To be a burden on my parents?

I tried to kill myself in the shower with a broken razor. I was too much of a coward to press deep enough to actually draw blood.

I am left now only with evidence of the attempt.

My mom was furious when she saw I attempted and immediately began angrily telling me to get my shit and that we’re going to the hospital.

I did not want to go. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be abandoned again at the hospital, only to come home 48 hours later because I was behaving perfectly normal in the hospital.

My triggers, are at home.

My mom tells me that she can’t live like this anymore, worrying about me constantly. Whatever remains of my heart, that statement alone shattered into it another million pieces.

Partly because I hurt my mama so much, and partly because I don’t want to live like this either. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be like this. I never wanted to hurt anyone.

Without my family, I would be nothing. If I am so bad that I need to be put in a residential, then I will cut all contact. The last thing I want to be is both a financial burden and a disappointment as a daughter.

I wish I was never born.

M.R

[deadlysickinthehead]

It’s a couple of things that keeps me going in this pitiful world… my son, my only love, my only reason to live if it wasn’t for him. I’m sorry lord, I just could not continue to survive any longer. I thought I was discovering self love until I allowed to myself to stop practicing to be dragged down by family, friends, too depressed to go to work and a selfish entitled self absorbed, coward of a being (boyfriend). he for surely carries traits or narcissism it’s so scary. Gets upset about it to even notice or is lowkey/highkey offended once you call him out on his bs bc he’s a terrible liar it’s vomiting to watch someone looking nervous bc they forgot they told you the truth and they are searching for a lie. I’m the dumbass entertaining it and cried more than happy in this relationship. His excuse was “I really liked you too though” “what was I suppose to tell you that so you can leave”(yes this is all the words from a 34 year old man…)Making it clear because of just that.. he was never going to stop unless I ended it that’s why he asked “why are you with me” bc he even knows he’s lair, if he wasn’t no one will take being question. He’s insecure man, I can tell. He even aware how much better I can do that’s why he gaslights/manipulates. How are you so comfortable going to bed at night knowing you’re fake af &children are involved. It seems sociopathic. If someone cup is filled enough they won’t leave you. Unless, you aren’t filling their cup with love respect, boundaries so they can live inpeace. It’s proven the main reason a woman cheat or leave is bc something is lacking in the relationship from their (lovers). They start craving to get it where they can take it. I’m sick of being depressed, I’m sick of humans adding on to my depression to make themselves feel good. I’m not Jesus for fuck sakes. All I did was cry, be confused, doubt myself, if I don’t have faith in my instincts how can I protect myself and be a good mom?too sick to go to work bc I’m always having anxiety bc I feel stuck .. family-less and shitty friends. So, now I have to go to work&school, survive to see the sunshine the next day broken/depressed. I can’t give up it hurts for now but I’ll make up for it. I might have to do it on my own. Thank you Ashton, I won’t stop until I give my baby a house, a trust fund that he will never at least struggle& hustle in ways I had to be fucked up to do. I will teach you abt morals& not allow someone to ignore your boundaries, even if you know you’ll be alone again. Love doesn’t hurt. Being alone in a new state is better than being mis treated. We forget we are the teachers of the next generation but some continue to be shitty bc they think it’’s not towards their children. Not aware children’s are always listening or even reading text?!That’s why it hurt so bad on sad days/being left by your ex. The universe knew you could hurt someone just as bad. It gave you the pain you deserved. Then, after I step back you use those moments to cheat instead of feeling bad?I know it wasn’t just that one person in May. Entire summer of sleeping on your phone, entire summer of being sneaky, entire summer of begging someone with insomnia to go to bed so you won’t feel too bad bc you never felt bad. You’re just ashamed you got caught& cant even handle my pain, my healing and lack of empathy as 2 years of torture was easy to take? You didn’t care so you cheated infront of me. 10/4/24 Your heart was out of your chest as I tried to sneak your phone. If it was just that one time in may you wouldn’t have stated maybe July bc it happen many times you cannot pinpoint. That’s huge gap may-June-July? All those months on your phone even in October?coward. I might dumb myself down but I would never be a coward like you. Everything is so depressing I never been beyond upset with I. Then I remember.. for a split. I always have a reason to smile for once. It’s my son’s face I’ll never put myself in this position again I’ll love me again. It’s so hard sometimes but thank you so much for making it bareable🧘🏼

[soopissoopnotsoup]

Always Running

My feet hit the floor, and I started running. I knew too much. Too much to stay alive. But fuck it, I would not go quietly. They could take me kicking and screaming. If i was lucky and made enough noise, i would be martyred, all I did wouldn’t be for nothing.

How did I even get here? I was never supposed to be a part of this, never supposed to be a hero. The truth is, I’m a coward. I was content sitting by. Of course, I knew it was all terrible, but it wasn’t affecting me. My family was safe. That was what mattered. And honestly? It all felt fake. Those girls, and what happened to them, it was a tragedy, but it was just a horror story to me. A warning tale. They were never real people.

But now I find myself in the same position. Risking my life. Not for a better future, not to help others, but for myself. It was always for myself. That's what they don’t tell you about heroes. We never set out to be. I am a selfish, entitled, coward. I don’t deserve to be put on a pedestal. But hell, part of me enjoys it. Part of me is filled with pride because, well, look at me. I’m doing something with my life. I actually have a purpose, and sure, I’m not doing this ‘for the greater good’, but how will anyone know? They won’t. I’ll go down as a hero. What more can I ask for?

-

-

-

I’m still running. What from? I no longer know. The danger is gone. We defeated them. We took back our life. Made the future ours. I know this is terrible for me to say, to even think, but I miss those days. When I had a purpose. When I was doing something good. I no longer know what I’m doing anymore. Back then, I felt powerful. Despite the constant fighting, the struggle to stay alive, I at least had control of my life. Now? I have nothing. Oh sure, it may look like I do. I may have this lavish house, a constant source of entertainment, and I should definitely be grateful but I can’t. After all, the second I fall out of the public's favor, this is all gone. I’ve seen it happen before, to all of my fellow fighters. 

At first we celebrated, and I liked it. I had achieved what I wanted, but then they put us in charge. I never understood why. Isn’t this what we just freed ourselves from? Was all our sacrifice, all our pain, all the death, was it all just for this? I miss when I was no one, when I could rely blindly on others to take care of the situation. Now I am that other. And that is terrifying. 

-

-

-

I am running again. Now, I run from the past. Hide myself behind a bottle. It was all my fault. Always my  fault. I understand it all now. I wish I had abandoned ship when I had the chance. I wish I joined Zariah. She’s dead now. Hanged as a traitor to the New County. I would be too, if I hadn’t been so blind. She was our leader, the symbol for hope. Bet she knew what I now do. That’s why she turned. I wish I could, but still, I am a coward. And tired. I already toppled one government, and. Well. This new one benefits me. I may hate myself for the lies I tell, but I always did. Sure the reason changed, but the hatred has always been there. Burning fiercely, consuming me in every silent moment. At least now, I am comfortable. I have a nice house, and people who worship me as the New Deity. I may be alone, truly alone, but was there ever anyone who I could trust? Who would let me be me, just for a second? I don’t think so.

-

-

-

I’m so tired of running. But I still do it. I can not face myself, can’t look at all the blood i spilt, and walk away sane. One day, I will stop running, I tell myself. One day. I pray for that day to come. I could stop the system. Share what I know. But that wouldn’t change everything. Loris tried. He and I were the last of them. Now it’s only me. It’s always me. Always meant to be me. I wish I could die. I wish I never accepted the Crown. Maybe the deaths would still happen, maybe everything would still be hateful, and terrible, but at least it wouldn’t be my fault. I could be one of them, bitter and hating the system, instead of controlling it. 

This is the price I pay. For selling every aspect of myself for my fifteen seconds of fame. I doubt anyone still remembers what happens. It’s been so long. I caught my reflection yesterday. Gone is the girl with short hair and a scar filled face. Now I am porcelain, every feature shifting to be beautiful. No one can know the pain I went through. There can not be a single crack. Orai cracked. Drowned by guilt. The porcelain melted.

-

-

-

My body runs.My soul has fallen out. My joy has left. I steal others. I am cold, I am bitter, I am the world. I hear talk of another rebellion. I hope it succeeds. I hope they win where I fail, but hope is a dull thing. The situation will repeat. Again, and Again. This is the only Future. The only Past. I wonder, who is the unlucky soul who will be me? Start out by accident. End up the only Original. Not by moral means, but because they are the most willing to surrender. 

Who will be Zariah? So filled with hope, longing for a better future, and A passion to actually fulfill it, The first to realize the truth, and the first to die. Who will be Morin? The bravest, the coldest, most calculated. I was so sure he would last. He had the most determination, to be better. The second to leave. He ran away. At least he got out.  Who will be Orai? So kind, so compassionate, so likely to have been the first, but lasted till the third, when she realized the truth. I think that’s why she survived so long. She was too naive to realize the truth until it was too late.  And who will be Loris? Who only stayed as he had a hope that we could change, that we could be better. That blind faith could only carry him for so long. When he realized, he really did try, to help, to fix it. He disappeared before he could release it all. It's a shame. History always has to repeat.

-

-

-

I’ve stopped running. Finally, My feet have given out. I’m at the end of the road. And I could not be more glad. Oh, I have no doubt things will continue. Nothing will change. But it’s no longer my fault. I am not the cause, nor a passive bystander. The guilt will pass on to the next, and the next, and the next, but it will no longer be mine. She raises a sword to my  throat. I smile, one full of pity. I am sorry she has to take my burden, but not enough to stop her. “Thank you,”I whisper.”for freeing me.” She looks so bright, like she believes she can bring change. I’m sure she does. But I’ve seen this happen before. And I was in her position. She is confused by my statement, naturally  but does not hesitate to slice my throat. That ruthlessness, no question attitude will serve her well. Or prolong her suffering. Whichever way you view it. My body shakes, and I heave my final breath. “I’m sorry.”

[stiltonbasket]

NHS would absolutely consider asking lxc to ghost-marry nmj? Thoughts?

After Lan Wangji’s sentencing and Nie Mingjue’s death, the obligations of filial duty—namely, those to do with marriage—were very far from Lan Xichen’s mind.

He had no desire to hear about anything related to marriage, much less when the prospective union being spoken of was his own. Lan Xichen’s blood ran quiet and still, untouched by the maidens people insisted on putting before him at banquets and conferences, and the man who held his heart was dead; so what could one such as him have to do with marriage, when no part of it would bring him happiness?

"Marriage?" Lan Xichen said coolly, when the elder he most disliked dared to mention the subject during a sect meeting. "What need do I have of marriage? Wangji has an heir of his own blood, and we have no shortage of children born to the disciples from my generation.”

“You know nothing of Lan Yuan’s mother. If she were even remotely suited to marry the heir of a great sect, Wangji would have brought her home and wed her decently,” Lan Yanjian returned. “And you must marry. Should you not be the one to set the example for those who follow you?”

Lan Xichen smiled. It was not a false smile, because false smiles were forbidden; but because it was not false, it was not very pleasant, either.

“I will consider it,” he said: which did break the sect precepts, because it was a lie.

He spent the rest of the day wandering around the Cloud Recesses, trying to find a comfortable place to meditate; but the elders and a couple of his distant uncles kept following him, and entreating him to meet with some lady or other to see if he might like one of them, so he sent himself a message talisman emblazoned with the crest of the Nie sect and used it as an excuse to run away to Qinghe.

“I hear you’re having marriage troubles,” was the first thing Nie Huaisang said, when Lan Xichen went into his office to greet him. “Er-ge, you know I don’t really understand these things, but I might be able to help you this time.”

“Thank you, A-Sang, but I’ll manage on my own. I won’t give in, no matter what they say, so why don’t we have some t—”

“I will be able to help you,” Huaisang persisted, “because I’m having the same trouble myself.”

Lan Xichen blinked. “Why?”

"The trouble is that I can’t get married. It would be unfilial for a younger brother to wed before his xiongzhang, and da-ge never got married,” Nie Huaisang muttered, mopping his temples with a handkerchief. “My aunts are afraid that if I marry now, without ever having paid my respects to a sister-in-law, my married life will be full of tribulations. My wife might even die early, they said, and then what would I do!?”

He sounded truly sorrowful. “You know I don’t need a wife, Er-ge, but that won’t stop my clan from worrying about it. Every day, it’s nothing but if only our Nie-zongzhu was married before he died, and won’t poor Er-gongzi be too frightened to marry even if he likes someone, and then Second Young Master Nie has no business getting married anyway, because he’s such a coward...but I think that was the time Jin Zixing came here to discuss the Moling trade route with San-ge. He’s as horrible as his brother, Xichen-ge, really.”

Jin Zixing had died that very week of some kind of disfiguring pox, so Lan Xichen reminded himself that it was a sin to speak ill of the dead and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

“But you and I are trapped in different mires this time,” he pointed out. “You’re not trying to avoid marriage at all. ”

“Not so! Not so,” Nie Huaisang cried, opening his fan so forcefully that it blew a lock of Lan Xichen’s hair back over his shoulders. “You are as close as my own blood brother, so I’ll get straight to the point. If I arranged a minghun for you and Da-ge, it would put an end to both our troubles at once. Will you do it?”

Lan Xichen nodded, stricken nearly dumb. “But Huaisang, you—”

“You’ll have to marry into the Nie sect, though,” Huaisang mused, “because you are the living party, and you can’t marry again. If Da-ge marries into your family, you’ll be at liberty to take a second spouse, and that won’t solve anything.”

“A-Sang—”

“And, if you married Da-ge, you could have children of your own without disinheriting Lan Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said triumphantly. “There! What do you think of that?”

“How could I have children of my own?” Lan Xichen asked. “I don’t want to.”

Nie Huaisang looked at him over the top of his white fan. “Da-ge told me what you two were planning before he died. If you still want to—to go ahead without him, I will consider your children my brother’s sons and daughters, and they will be his in the eyes of our clan laws. You wouldn’t need to break your wedding vows, and I wouldn’t need to raise my own child or wear myself out by educating an adopted one.”

“You want my children as your heirs?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I—you would take a child born to the master of another sect as the heir to yours?”

Huaisang smiled. It was a small, sad smile, more pitiful than any tantrum or hunger strike he ever had in the past, and Lan Xichen nearly began to weep at the sight of it.

“I always thought my nieces and nephews would be your children,” he whispered, “and I would rather have them than not. Because if Da-ge had lived, and you married someone else, he would have spent the rest of his life wishing your children were his, too.”

And just like that, the thing was settled. Lan Xichen was married the next time he journeyed to Qinghe, before the elders noticed that his parents’ tablets were missing from the ancestral hall; but when he bowed to the rooster that was meant to stand in for his bridegroom, the bird choked, paralyzed with what seemed like fear, and gaped at him in disbelief before crumpling onto the floor.

“It’s just stunned,” Huaisang announced, when he came over to inspect it. “Oh, look! It’s coming around. You can take it back to the kitchens now, Zonghui—but make sure to paint the tips of its wings, so the cooks know to leave it alone. We can’t make the poor creature into soup now that he’s been part of the wedding.”

Suddenly, Lan Xichen felt incredibly heavy. He could scarcely move, for his limbs felt like lead, and it was all he could do to straighten up and go change his clothes for the wedding banquet.

He awoke in a stupor much later that night, unable to make any sense of where he was; and when he staggered over to the nearest mirror, he was certain that someone else was looking back at him.

The face in the mirror seemed confused, too. It was his, without a doubt, but the will that walked him across the room to the dressing table was not.

That will took command of his lips, making them tremble and gasp with yearning; and then his hand crept up his side, unbidden, and cupped the soft curve of his own white cheek.

“What’s going on?” his lips cry, bewildered. “Xichen, why am I you?”