#it's so sad it's so tragic he RAISED him he was turned into a caretaker so young he can never detatch that part of himself

[gwasgy]

Just remembered about sam n dean. Brb gotta go cry about them

[therealvinelle]

Hey, @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin sent me to you for some spicy opinions. Have you read the hunger games? Do you have any headcanons? Any thoughts on main characters that is different from the way the author meant to portray? I really enjoyed your thoughts on Twilight and I’ll admit I disliked Twilight but not because of the characters being too flat and boring (I don’t agree with that) but just because of the writing style and the framing of the relationships. It really annoyed me. But your headcanons made me realize that there were some hidden gems in there. So thanks for sharing your thoughts.

I like that my life has gotten to a point where I’m the Muffin’s referral point for spicy opinions. And I’m very glad you enjoy my Twilight metas!

When it comes to my spicy hunger games opinions, I don’t actually know how spicy they are. They’re definitely very spicy considering what Hollywood tried to do, but I think I’m actually pretty much in tune with Susanne Collins. Tumblr certainly agrees with me, which is very rare but quite nice. The Muffin and I don’t actually want to have spicy opinions, it’s just that we’ll say shit like “Luke’s not a real jedi” and expect it to be obvious but nope, turns out the entire Star Wars fandom begs to differ. So, I think I agree with Collins on what she wrote, which is great, but I honestly can’t tell anymore what the authors want me to think so who knows.

So, first of, there is no love triangle in those books. And I’m not simply saying that the love triangle wasn’t the focus of the books, I’m saying that the love triangle did not exist.

Katniss and Gale were close friends and if it hadn’t been for the hunger games then yeah, they would probably have ended up together. However, the hunger games happened, and Katniss was a very changed person after that. Gale was still the same, and more, he did not get it, at all. He didn’t understand the person Katniss had become and wanted the old one back. They continued to hang out because they’d grown up together, but at this point it was only the memory of their old friendship holding them together and not the real thing.

Then we get into the third book, in which Gale grows enamored with weaponry and the quest for revenge against the Capitol, proudly displaying to Katniss his sadistic device that’ll later kill Prim. Katniss is horrified, and as usual Gale doesn’t get it. Their relationship with violence are polar opposites: Katniss has been forced to kill to protect herself, Gale takes pride in designing devices that’ll kill as many civilians as possible.

On to Katniss. The first big mistake Hollywood made with her was casting Jennifer Lawrence. Katniss of the books is an impoverished and starving child. Lawrence has the wrong body type for that, and more, she has the completely wrong presence. It’s like casting Timothee Chalamet for Thor. 

Then we have Katniss herself.

Katniss, as I see her, is not a hero at all, and she’s not supposed to be. A hero is too positive a word, as heroes get to choose their own destiny. St. George chooses to go slay the dragon. Katniss is thrown into an arena and told to kill children. She has nobility, grace, and kindness, she is indubitably brave and selfless. It’s not her character I’m questioning. But to call her a hero is to play into the narrative that there’s anything glorious or inspiring about her story, and there isn’t. She’s a traumatized child who’s propped up by powerful people to be a symbol. At first it’s the Capitol making her and Peeta star-crossed lovers, and then we have the resistance making her their rallying point. Katniss has no control over any of this. The hunger games is not the inspiring story of a girl who rallies the forces of good against the evil empire, but rather the story of a child who is grossly taken advantage of by both sides.

Then there’s the fact that even before the Capitol happened, Katniss had been forced to grow up too early. Her mother failed to be a mother, and so Katniss became the family caretaker, raising Prim like a daughter rather than a sister and keeping the family alive. Her childhood died with her father, and it is an unusually jaded and sad child who enters that arena. This doesn’t make her better suited for what she endures over the course of the trilogy, but less. Katniss has had no one to rely on, comes to rely too much on Peeta, which in turn makes her crumble like a house of cards when she loses him.

Going slightly back to the love triangle debacle, Katniss ends up with Peeta not so much because they’re the star-crossed lovers the Capitol wanted, but because after the arena Katniss is really only able to connect with people who know exactly what it’s like. Peeta, Finnick, Haymitch - these three all become deeply precious to her, there is a bond forged between victors because no one else can ever truly understand. Peeta/Katniss wouldn’t have happened in a timeline where they weren’t reaped, but they were, and now they’re each other’s only real option.

Not to mention that as victors they’ll live lives the rest of their district can’t really relate to. They have nice houses and a pension, which is alienating enough, but they’ll also be forever entangled with the Capitol, either as prostitutes, mentors, or both. Gale likes Katniss, but he could never have a wife like that.

By the end of the trilogy, Katniss is a traumatized mess of a girl, and so is Peeta. They choose to have kids anyway, something I have mixed feelings about. I see what Collins wanted with that. Katniss makes it clear early on in the series that she never wanted children, because those kids might get reaped. And, to my recollection, it was also that she just thought the world was a too cruel place. The fact that she still chooses to have kids can only be seen as a sign of healing, that Katniss now feels safe enough in this world to bring others into it.  Which is nice. Except I think that losing Prim is what made the real difference to Katniss. Prim was her daughter, and having children is the closest she’ll get to getting Prim back. I’m also slightly worried Peeta will one day snap and strangle them. There’s also the fact that I really don’t think Katniss and Peeta are parent material by the time those books are through. It’s bad enough that Katniss had to be her mother’s therapy animal, she shouldn’t repeat the cycle. But maybe I should have more faith in Katniss. And damnit, I want to be happy for her. In other words, I have mixed feelings on those kids. This all being said, I’ve heard people think it’s out of character for Katniss to have kids, and I disagree with that. I think it’s a very Katniss thing to do. The question is whether becoming a mother was a good decision.

(Since your ask pretty much put a coin in the ramble box, I’ll ramble some more: the whole “children are healing” thing in the epilogue happens through Annie Cresta as well. The girl is more traumatized than anybody after her hunger games, and codependent with her lover, Finnick Odair. Finnick dies tragically, luckily it turns out Annie was pregnant so now she gets a baby too. I question her ability to raise a child on her own, but the fact that both Katniss and Annie get to have kids points to those children symbolizing healing and happiness.)

[james-joyces-right-eyeball]

Absolute Favorite Books I’d Recommend to Anyone

This is a list of my top-tier favorite books that I would recommend/talk about endlessly to pretty much anyone (in no particular order). I know people probably don’t care but I just like talking about books I love so here we are.

Beloved - Toni Morrison

~ Based off the real story of Margaret Garner, a slave woman who escaped slavery and when captured killed her child in order to prevent them from ever being enslaved again, Beloved tells the story of a mother named Sethe, born in slavery who eventually escaped and is haunted by the figurative demons of her trauma and the literal (arguably) ghost of her dead daughter, who she herself killed. It is an excellent exploration of the horrors of slavery and of the haunting legacy of the institution for those who were subjected to it.

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

~ If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, you probably know what Lolita is. The story of the predatory Humbert Humbert who lusts after, rapes, and kidnaps the “nymphet” Dolores Haze. An excellent construction of how predators, unreliable narrators in their own right, hide behind fabrications, almost-believable excuses, and pretty words to make their actions seem maybe not so bad. In the words of the book itself, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”

Ulysses - James Joyce

~ Notoriously one of the most difficult books in the English language, Ulysses lifts its structure from Homer’s Odyssey to tell the story of a common man, Leopold Bloom, as he goes about his day. Yes, this book takes place over the course of only one day. We follow Bloom as well as Joyce’s literary counterpart Stephen Daedalus through their thoughts and actions, gathering details of their lives previous throughout. It’s a book that, in my own words, “is life”. It is sad, funny, strange, vulgar, disgusting, beautiful, revelatory, sensual, and nonsensical all at once. Joyce aimed to create a reflection of life through his stream-of-consciousness style which some people might find confusing, but I personally find absolutely beautiful and honest and realistic. The prose is also gorgeous, but that could be applied to everything Joyce wrote. 

Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

~ The classic gothic book that tells the tale of Heathcliff and his ultimately destructive love of Catherine Earnshaw, whose eventual marriage to someone else and the general mistreatment of him by her family drives Heathcliff insane and he spends the rest of his life trying to take revenge by abusing and torturing the next Earnshaw and Linton (the family into which Catherine marries) generations. If I’m being honest, I like this book mostly because of how wild and dark it is, but the writing is also genius and beautiful. I think the book also carries an interesting view of the destructive nature of revenge, overzealous love, and othering.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

~ A coming-of-age story at the turn of the century that tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young bookish girl growing up in a lower class family in New York City. It tells about her father’s struggles with alcoholism as well as her mother’s struggles to deal with that and at the same time raise Francie and her brother. Francie is confronted with a strange, uncertain world as a young girl, but tries to face it with bravery throughout childhood

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

~ Another coming-of-age story, this time about four young sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March. You are probably familiar with this book already; it’s had more movie adaptations then I can possibly remember off the top of my head. It’s the story of four sisters as they try to navigate growing up, love, and loss during the mid to late 1800s.

The Color Purple - Alice Walker

~ A novel that tells the story of Celie, a young black woman who is raped and then married young to a man who will go on to use and abuse her, through her letters to God. Throughout the novel she meets Shug Avery, a woman with whom she eventually falls in love and begins a relationship with. Through this and her eventual freedom from her abusive husband, she is able to gain at last her own sense of self and take back control over her life, a life no longer ruled by the abusive men around her.

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

~ The tragic story of young black girl Pecola Breedlove, who wants nothing more than to have blonde hair and blue eyes just like the women she sees in the movies. Both a deconstruction of the whiteness of beauty standards as well as how these standards can utterly destroy vulnerable young girls, it is also an exploration of the people who allow these sorts of things to happen, including Pecola’s mother and father. The Bluest Eye, I think, showcases one of the aspects of Toni Morrison that I like the most, that I aspire to the most: her ability to enter the minds of all people, even people who you might despise at first. Her characters, especially Cholly in The Bluest Eye, are ones you might not entirely sympathize with, but they will always be ones you understand.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

~ Based off of the author’s own experiences as a young college student, The Bell Jar tells the story of Esther Greenwood, whose depression over her place as a woman in a patriarchal society as well as her inability to choose a life path for herself leads to a suicide attempt and a subsequent stay in a mental hospital. A very nuanced portrayal of mental illness, especially anxiety and depression, The Bell Jar is an extremely moving and relatable story for me and clearly is as well for others. It is a classic for a reason.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

~ A memoir of Angelou’s childhood, this book tells the story of her experiences living as a black girl in the south with her grandmother and brother as well as her later years living with her mother. It also tells of how she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was around eight or nine, and how she struggled to live with that and find her voice, both literally and figuratively. A wonderful book about overcoming struggles and the power of words and literature in such times.

Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison

~ Ellison’s novel tells the story of a young black man, never getting a name in the text, and his feelings of invisibility and his struggles to find a place in society to belong. His struggles only lead him further into despair, until he decides to “become invisible” as people seem not to see him as a person anyway. Invisible Man is an exploration of American mid-century racism and the isolation it causes to those subjected to it. Not only that, but it is surprisingly relevant to our times now, especially on the subject of police violence. (Personal anecdote: When I first read this book, when I got to the aforementioned police violence part it was right in the middle of the BLM resurgence last summer and I cried for a good twenty minutes while reading that chapter over how nothing had changed and it still hurts me to think about it. Embarrassingly, my dad walked in on me while I was crying, and I had to quickly explain it away.)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - James Joyce

~ The title basically says it all lol. This book tells of the coming-of-age of Stephen Daedalus (the same one from the later-written Ulysses). His sensitive childhood, his awkward and lustful adolescence, his feelings of Irish nationality and Catholic guilt, and his struggles to fully realize himself, both as an artist and a human being. It is a very hopeful story, and one that I love mostly because I relate so much to Stephen Daedalus as an artist and as a person.

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

~ A magical-realist intergenerational family drama, Marquez’s book traces the various lives and loves of the Buendia family over the course of (you guessed it!) one hundred years. A beautifully written, at times extremely emotionally moving and chilling masterpiece, Marquez in a way retells the history of Colombia, of its colonization and exploitation.  

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

~ A classic Russian novel of society and love, Tolstoy tells the story of Anna Karenina, married, wealthy woman with a child she adores. However, she falls in love with another man, Count Vronsky, and comes to a tragic end for her love. The parallel story of the novel is that of Konstantin Levin, a wealthy landowner who also struggles to find fulfillment in his life and understand his place in society.

The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner

~ A novel that features an entire family of unreliable narrators, The Sound and the Fury details the fall of a once-prominent southern Compson family and always-present place of the past. There are four different narratives: Benjy Compson, a mentally disabled man who is unsure of his surroundings and of time and only knows that he misses his older sister Caddy; Quintin Compson, the eldest son and a Harvard man both obsessed with his sister retaining her “purity” and the fact that she failed to do so and had a baby out of wedlock, going as far to claim it is his baby in an attempt to preserve something of the family reputation; Jason Compson, who is the caretaker of Caddy’s daughter and believes her to be going down her mother’s “sinful” path; and Dilsey, the black maid of the Compson’s who unlike the people she cares for is not weighed down by their history. The narratives take place in different time periods and is in a stream-of-consciousness style. It’s a deeply dark and disturbing novel about the haunting nature of the past, a common theme in Faulkner’s work (see Absalom, Absalom! for more of this).

Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison

~ It is the story of Milkman Dead, a young black man growing up in the south and his relationship with his very complicated family. To say anymore would be to spoil the novel, but I will say that it is an excellent book about family, self-fulfillment in a world that tries to deny you that, and, like The Bluest Eye, exhibits Morrison’s excellent character work.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof - Tennessee Williams

~ A play which takes place on the patriarch of a family’s birthday in the oppressive heat of the midsummer south, Williams’ play explores lies, secrets, and how repression only results in anger, frustration, and sadness. It’s a tragic but brilliant play that I think was very ahead of its time. If you’ve read it (or do read it) then you know what I mean.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

~ This book tells the story of a young man and his love of another man named Giovanni while he is in Paris. It is a book about love, queer guilt, and has what I would call an ambiguous ending. There is uncertainty at the end, but there does seem to be some kind of acceptance. It is a bit of a coming-out story, but more than that it is a story of personal acceptance and at the same time a sad, tragic love story.

HERmione - H.D.

~ An underrated modernist masterpiece, HERmione is a somewhat fictionalized account of the author, Hilda Doolittle’s, experience as a young aspiring poet dating another poet (in real life Ezra Pound in this book named George Lowndes) who is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It explores her own mental state, as she considers herself a failure and falls in love with a woman for the first time (Fayne Rabb in the book, Frances Gregg in real life). 

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

~ People think about going to a lighthouse. They do not. A couple years and a war passes then they do. That may seem like a boring plot, and you may be right. However, To the Lighthouse is not much about plot. It is more about the inner lives of its characters, a family and their friends, on two different occasions of their lives: one before WWI and one after WWI. Woolf explores in this novel the trauma that results from such a massive loss of life and security. Not only that, she also explores the nature of art (especially in female artists) in the character of Lily Briscoe and her struggles to complete a painting. It’s a short novel, but it contains so much about life, love, and loss within these few pages.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

~ A southern gothic novel about isolation and loneliness in a small town. Every character has something to separate them from wider society, and often find solace and companionship in a deaf man, John Singer, who himself experiences a loneliness that they cannot understand. There are various forms of social isolation explored in this novel: by race, disability, age, gender, etc. A wonderful, heart-wrenching book about loneliness and the depths it can potentially drag people to.

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

~ A modernist masterpiece of a poem, Eliot describes feeling emptiness and isolation. The brilliance of it can only be shown by an excerpt:

“Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. “

(My personal favorite line from this poem is, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”)

The Trial - Franz Kafka

~ The protagonist of the novel, Josef K., wakes up one morning to find that he has been placed under arrest for reasons that are kept from him. Kafka creates throughout the novel a scathing satire of bureaucracy, as K. tries to find out more about his case, more about his trial, but only becomes more confused as he digs deeper. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the world he lives in, and the more tries to explain it the further the more that proves to be the case. An excellently constructed novel and a great one to read if you would like to be depressed about the state of the world because, though Kafka’s work is a satire, like a lot of his other work, it manages to strike a strangely real note.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

~ An absurdist play that is a retelling of Shakespeare’s Hamlet from the perspective of minor characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who in the broad overview of the original play, do not matter. Throughout the play, they question their existence and the purpose of it and through that Stoppard dissects not only the absurdity of life, but how fiction and theater reflect that absurdity inadvertently.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner

~ The novel details the journey the Bundren family makes after the death of the family matriarch, Addie, to bury her. Each chapter offers a different narrative from the family members and those who surround them, revealing some ulterior motives to them “going to town” to bury Addie. The patriarch Anse desires a pair of false teeth, and the daughter Dewey Dell is pregnant and needs an abortion, as there is no way for her or her family to support it. It’s about the powerlessness of people in the impoverished south. The Bundrens are constantly subject to forces beyond their control, struggles which would be easily solved if they had the money to spare for it. There is more to the book, but that is my favorite reading of it, that of class. Faulkner’s ability to create distinct voices for every one of his characters shines through here.

And, last but not least:

The Collected Poems - Sylvia Plath

~ All the poems Plath wrote during her tragically short lifetime. The best way to demonstrate or summarize the book’s brilliance is just to show you. This is her poem “Edge”, which appears in the book:

“The woman is perfected.   Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment,   The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga,   Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,   One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty.   She has folded Them back into her body as petals   Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about,   Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! HAPPY READING TO ALL!

[atinytokki]

My Way

iv. Best Case Scenario

There was no point in trying to sneak back into the Hall. 

Hongjoong had left the familiar comfort of his former home behind, scared out of reading his mother’s diary by a group of strangers who had been arriving to cart away their belongings, auctioning them off to who knows where.

It was all he needed to know his relatives had gone through with selling the cottage.

So he hid the book in the floorboards, walking back to Jangwon on tired feet, nowhere else to go, and took the verbal beating he knew to expect for running off like he had.

Except it wasn’t just Aunt Minkyung. It was Aunt Ajung, and Aunt Sohee, and even Sohee’s son Myungsoo and his fiancée Bora.

Hongjoong sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation, slowing to a stop in front of them.

It looked like they would be causing a scene in the entryway. One Hongjoong should’ve expected. 

“Where have you been all night?” Minkyung snapped. Hongjoong didn’t even get a chance to answer.

“And the night before the funeral, no less!” Aunt Ajung muttered, clearly more upset about the inconvenience than anything else.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were? We thought we’d have to send a search party—” Sohee began but was interrupted by Aunt Minkyung again.

“You could’ve died, do you realise that?”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Hongjoong finally shot back, trying to get around the imposing gaggle of relations.

Scandalised gasps went up all around him but he kept walking.

The pair of gardeners tending the front lawn were wide-eyed and whispering to each other.

Suddenly someone yanked on Hongjoong’s arm, pulling him back. He was confronted with Aunt Minkyung’s incredibly red face, arm raised as if to deliver a slap.

“How dare you show such disrespect, you ungrateful—”

“Let me through!” Cousin Seyong’s voice broke through the chaos as he pushed past the crowd and pulled Hongjoong out of his mother’s firm grip. “No time, he needs to get ready.”

Confused but grateful to be whisked away from the confrontation, Hongjoong followed Seyong into the private wing occupied by the master of the hall and his immediate family, where Hongjoong had spent the night previously.

Yujung was there waiting and shushed Hongjoong before he could ask anything, scanning him up and down.

“Look at you, you’re filthy.”

He had nothing to say on the matter, so he let himself be scrubbed, washed, rinsed, and dressed. He had to admit as he stood in his best clothes and let Yujung wrangle his hair into something presentable, that it felt kind of nice. Something he had missed.

“You’re taking care of me.”

It sounded like a statement but underneath the emotionless exterior it was a question.

“Well, nothing’s decided. Not until this evening.”

They still had a funeral to get through. 

Hongjoong nodded quickly and steeled himself. There was no guarantee of anything anymore. He knew that the moment the storm split their boat in two.

...

The sky was grey. No sunshine, and no rain. Just another average overcast day.

Everyone was assembled behind Jangwon on a hill facing east, the highest point in the town.

They were there, bathed in incense and dressed in grave clothes. They had already been bound in shrouds and waited to be lowered into the ground, with a final nail driven into the coffin lid symbolising the finality of their departure from this world. Those bodies weren’t Hongjoong’s parents anymore.

Uncle Ryeowook was reading off a speech about them, their achievements and contributions to Panhang, their dedication to their family and community, and most of all their tragic reminder to be cautious on the sea.

He said nothing about their kindness or their sense of humour. He wouldn’t remember them by their patience as teachers or their example of bravery. He didn’t know those things about them.

One by one, visitors came up and bowed twice to pay their respects. Hongjoong recognised nearly everyone, and tried not to make eye contact with his former friends and classmates. 

His old neighbour Bosung placed a hand on his shoulder silently but left without saying anything else. Hongjoong was glad for it- the fewer awkward conversations, the better. Who knew what would become of those relationships, cut off and fizzled into nothingness once he became prisoner at his family’s behest. 

Tuning out the loud wails of the women and turning away from the solemn faces of the men, Hongjoong’s eyes went to the ocean, imagining his parents waiting for him to hurry up and get on the boat so they could set sail and start their day.

When the guests dispersed to drink and stuff their faces with ceremonial food, Hongjoong lingered to bow one last time.

It was deep and long and full of emotions and apologies. The tears he kept at bay.

As he stood, he pictured them casting off without him, leaving him behind to explore fairer shores.

But it was alright, he could be patient.

He’d join them when it was time.

He wasn’t overwhelmed with sadness anymore; he was quietly but fiercely angry. 

Nothing Mother and Father needed to know about.

... 

“I know about the gossip.”

An embarrassed Yujung turned from where she had been scolding a whispering servant and faced Hongjoong.

He kept talking, mindlessly slicing into pieces of fruit but neglecting to eat them.

“They throw the word orphan around, they say I’ll never inherit anything. That I’m no better than a servant in my own home.”

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” Yujung insisted, shooing away the servants before they could do anymore harm and sitting down across from him, grabbing his arm with conviction.

The action shocked him into slicing himself, flinching at the small trickle of blood coming from his hand. The wound barely registered as Yujung hurriedly snatched up a handkerchief and pressed it to the cut. Hongjoong simply shook his head and went on, “But it’s true. In the best case scenario, I’ll be granted some form of independence until I can escape and take care of myself.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Yujung scolded quietly, with a lot less vigour than anyone else in the Hall would’ve. “We want what’s best for you.”

“Maybe you want what’s best for me,” Hongjoong chuckled dryly. “No one else in this house does.”

He had been snacking on leftover fruit from the funeral all afternoon while his aunts and uncles entertained their guests and then shut the study door again so they could discuss his future living arrangements.

Eventually even Yujung had to leave and give them her opinion. Hongjoong didn’t have much hope in her ability to better his situation, not after what happened last time.

One of the servants came and called him to the room at half past six.

Now was the part when they stopped talking about him behind his back and invited him to the face to face conversation.

Uncle Ryeowook beckoned him forward around the side of the desk and so he went, ignoring the eyes he could feel on him.

“Assuming you don’t want to be sent to an orphanage, we’ve come up with a solution, Hongjoong.” 

He said it like he should be grateful for such merciful intervention.

“We think you’ll like it,” Aunt Minkyung added from behind her husband. “Very much in fact.”

Aunt Ajung got straight to the point, reading from the legal document the assembled family members had drafted up. “Technically, you’ll be in the custody of the master of the hall, that’s Ryeowook, but Seyong and Yujung will be your primary caretakers until they have children of their own, as Ryeowook and Minkyung have little time and patience for another child.”

Well, that was a relief.

“Your education will continue under the family tutor, but at your age we’ll be expecting you to work for your keep. In the fields, or the mines, or the kitchens— wherever you’re needed. It will depend on the day.”

It was bare minimum provision, with the slight advantage that he’d be in the care of the least abhorrent of his relatives, but bare minimum nonetheless.

Aunt Minkyung smiled a tight smile at him like she was confused why he wasn’t on his knees thanking them. “It’ll be useful to have someone so flexible helping to run Jangwon!” She explained cheerfully.

Hongjoong knew what they were playing at.

He was old enough to take on responsibility but young enough not to be granted freedom.

He was well bred enough to be taught social graces but low enough on the ladder to work for free.

So he simply bowed to each of his superiors, extra deeply to Seyong and Yujung, and padded upstairs silently like the outcast he was.

Minutes or hours later- he couldn’t be sure- his new guardians came to find him sitting by the window watching the sun shrink behind the clouds.

The mysterious stranger’s prediction had been right. The second storm was arriving after all.

Cousin Seyong cleared his throat uncomfortably and tried to offer some condolence. “I’m sorry, it’s the best we could do...”

“But I did push for them to give you more time,” Yujung broke in. “Time to, you know, grieve and... and integrate with the routine here... all of that.”

Hongjoong turned to face them and forced a smile. “Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. The meeting could’ve turned out a lot worse. “Is there any way I’ll be allowed out on my own from now on?”

The couple glanced at each other indecisively. They’d never been parents, they hadn’t the first clue how to proceed with respects to a boy already approaching his teens.

“Well, you’ve run away once, I wouldn’t put it past you to do so again,” Seyong sighed honestly. “Perhaps as long as you stay away from the cliffside and the beach...”

“Provided you tell us when and where,” Yujung amended quickly. “And you’re always encouraged to bring someone with you.”

“Not that you’ll have much time for wandering anyway,” Cousin Seyong pointed out, pulling the curtains shut, blocking Hongjoong’s view of the coast, and preparing to leave the room. “You’ll be busy with lessons and work and such.”

Keeping him occupied so he couldn’t cause trouble. That was the plan.

Hongjoong nodded his acceptance of the conditions and bade both of them goodnight. 

They were worried about him, he could see that, but things were off to such a clumsy start, Hongjoong didn’t put much on their ability to control him.

Not when he already had a destination in mind.

For most of the day he’d sat alone while chaos ensued around him. There would be a small window of time for him to get away unseen but he knew the road well.

As he lay awake, he thought of the family moving into his cottage tomorrow morning. They would have no idea what it had once been like. Maybe they would even move the furniture or change the decorations.

It wouldn’t hurt to simply observe the proceedings from a safe distance, he decided. 

Rain was falling on the windows, and his pillow had grown wet, but only from his own tears. 

His aunts always told him not to cry, but they weren’t around to admonish him.

For once, he was happy to be alone.

...

A/N: Another sombre update from me :,) Forgive me if the chapters are sparser because of school. Don’t forget to like and rb <3

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[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Heracles Human (s/o) Relationship?

Heracles Human (s/o) Relationship?

I have nothing to say for myself. it's kinda short because I doubt that Heracles had visited the human world often, and even if he did the reader might have already died 

You both met when you were still kids. Befriending him and castor. Helping Heracles get stronger 

"So you don't see much of an improvement when doing push-ups anymore?..."

"Yes"

"And you want me to sit on your back?"

"Exactly"

"Are you conscious about the fact that having one person in your back is quite heavy. Aren't you?"

"Don't worry! I already did this with castor! I just thought that you would be heavier"

"..."

"..."

"Please don't talk to me again"

"D':"

Everything was the same routine until ares attacked Thebes and Heracles gave up on his humanity to keep castor and you safe. 

"Even if this is our last day together. I like you. I like like you (y/n). Castor please look after them" he raised a fist "my last favor."

And he left before you could say a single word. You grow into your golden age, your prime if you must, but a sickness befalls you, no doctor knew what you had bringing you to your tragic end, leaving behind friend like castor who feels like he failed the last wish of his friend. 

All you feel is cold and all you can see is dark. Suddenly it all snapped into a loud and shiny room. a gremlin looking thing starts yelling from a tall plataform in the middle of the room " okey you dirty humans, you have the privilege of having me today as your coordinator. I will be naming all of you and you will sit in the stadium chairs as I say" it unfolds a long list before coughing" ok! First one! 00000000000002, Eve, there you go…" the lists seemed to be never ending. After what it felt like decades and all the person that in the room left leaving only the gremlini and you in the room

"Excuse me, you didn't call my name"

"Eh?, Then tell me your name"

"(Y/N) (L/N)"

"Ah… you are the one who Heracles wanted to see. Follow me."

You follow him for long hallways and tall doorframes. Stoping in front of one with the shape of a Lion's head in its knocker.

"Heraaaaacles!"

"I don't care it's my turn! I won't fight till I meet them"

"Here you have your beloved-"

 The door suddenly opens up letting see the tall Heracles whose face lights up at your sight. grabbing you by your arm and dragging you inside cutting the gremling in the middle of its speech.

"Little (y/n)! Now your name is really befitting I have to look down to see you! You are going to make me have stiff neck!" Said Heracles hugging you tight against his chest when suddenly he jumps away from you " stop you remember me, don't you?"

"Are you the dim witted boy who said I was heavier than a boy? I won't forget you"

"Little (Y/n)!" You swear you can feel him crying again your shoulder when he hugs you again.

"(Y/N) do you know what is happening right now?" You shake your head " the gods decides to eliminate the humankind. But sister Brun stood up for them, for you. I know it sounds strange but it's true. We have fixed fight against humanity's strongest men I will be fighting as one of the gods representants  against one of the most strong human. Do you remember  what I said when I left? I still feel the same for you, I don't care if you feel the same or if you don't but I want you to know that if I lose my live there I will be happy because my death will keep you a step away from death"  

" Heracles I like like you too! I just got to be with you again don't leave me alone now" 

"I promise, as long as I have breath in me I will make it here where we can start again"

Heracles: I said that. But then I died!  :D

You stayed there. Looking at the fight trough a screen Heracles had. You saw everything, from the moment hos hand got cut off to the moment he died

Heracles: even if I die I love humanity. Because it gave me the person I love the most. Good bye (Y/N) sorry for dying. Sorry for letting you down. Please hate me, it will make it all feel better

You felt your tears pool in your eyes. Even if you were sad you could hate him for dying for mankind sake. You kept crying until something tug your hair. Turning around you found a baby with the same characteristical red hair of Heracles, that baby also had his same eyes, same face, same everything.  Some maids rushed in the room as soon as they could stoping in their tracks as soon as they saw you, looking at each other as they left you with some baby necessities.

Was this little baby the big Heracles you knew? How do you take care of a god baby? When I run out this who I ask for more? Question ate you away. Only stoping to the doors sound, finding a skeletony old man and a butler like man at his side

" Aw, I see Heracles found himself a caretaker."

"If I'm not wrong they should be (Y/N) (L/N)" 

" Aah, the young love ~"

You are Explained the situation by the butler man who called himself Hermes. Heracles will grow into the same the only thing he needed was time like any normal human child.

" I think you should stay as his caretaker. Heracles seems a bit fond of you"

You try teaching him at the best of your ability  about fairness and justice. But one day when Heracles is 14 he falls down to the floor, burning a fever. What should you do, let him burn his sickness out?, call Hermes?, ask someone to make something to make a remedy for him? You aren't sure. Running around the hallways you find Hermes talking to a lower god you couldn't care less, Heracles was sick,he was in pain. 

Even if it relaxed you to know that nothing will happen to Heracles it still hurt to know that he was in pain, the only thing you could do was hug him tightly. When you felt him hugging you back and relaxing you let yourself sleep for once after days of forcing yourself to stay up. 

"Ptsss, (y/n) are you up?"

" Mhmjvcb 10 minutes more pleasee"

"Ok... you know (y/n)? I think I don't only like like I think I love you, my little (y/n)" 

"I love you too, my big lion"

[tinmunky]

I generally find it distasteful to complain about my own life. Everyone has struggles and bad luck or whatever. But I also think it’s important to document things that happen in your life. Positive or negative, so that when you look back in 5-10-15 years you have a point of reference for how far you’ve come.

I haven’t been overly creative since February. I’ve written nothing, drawing nothing and sewing nothing but face masks. I’ve put that energy to other endeavors like plants and baking. My garden looks fabulous and I can now bake a delightful sourdough bread, but they’ve felt like distractions from the stress of COVID and the empathy for BLM and the desire for just some damn justice and compassion in this fucked up country.

Since I’ve posted anything personal a lot has happened. All of this was just in the last month

- I turned 38. No big deal but it was very small since we’re all quarantined. My husband made me surf and turf so we could pretend like we were at a steakhouse

- My company severely downsized their personnel the week later. I was partially furloughed and my pay was cut 60%. This fucking sucks. We’re okay, but I need to either find a new job or get more hours because I won’t be okay indefinitely.

- A week after that my 98 year old grandfather, who helped raise me because my mother is a disaster passed away. He had a heart attack and could not recover. My husband and I went to Florida to be there. My mother, who was his caretaker for his last 5 years was not exactly the most compassionate during his final years and said some flat out nasty things to me and some less than kind things about him at his literal deathbed. She’s always been very selfish, jealous, petty and exhibits a lot of the symptoms of BPD and I almost didn’t go down because I can’t stand to be around her. Thankfully he was not conscious for her sourness and my husband and I stayed with him until the end. After he passed we drove the 6 hours home.

- My grandfather left his 8 year old dog behind. She’s a super sweet dog but my mother doesnt’ really care about animals. The dog needs special medication (because she has bad hips and is grossly overweight and my mother did nothing to keep my dementia suffering grandfather from feeding her constantly. Once her bill came due for meds my mother called me and said it would be cheaper to euthanize the dog than to buy her medication. So I either had to drive 12 hours round trip for a dog that wouldn’t do well in my stair ladden home or she was going to drop her off at the pound or have her euthanized. This was two days after he passed. She’s tried this kind of emotional manipulation with me when I was a child with my pets and I saw red. I dumped my mom off my facebook, blocked her and sent out an APB for rescues in Florida that would be able to help. We found one in Orlando that would take Taffie and place her immediately in a foster home. My mother bitched about driving her two hours to the rescue, but she’s safe now and with a sweet little boy who will help her lose weight. I’m at the point where if my mother wants to be a part of my life, she’s going to have to address her behavioral problems.

- My husband turned 40 in quarantine and I’m super sad we couldn’t make it a big celebration or go somewhere to make his day special.

- Last Sunday someone on a rental boat with a bunch of people drown in our cove of the lake. It was tragic and they still haven’t found the victim’s body. His family and friends came to search the shores and it was heartbreaking. They didn’t think it was an accident and that things were sketchy. I really hope they find out what happened to him.

And that pretty much brings me to today. All this happened in a month. I’m tired. I’m cranky and I just want a fucking nap and for 2020 to calm the fuck down.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Hello~! My name is Fuu! I am here looking for something else this time! My hobbies include writing, cooking, reading, cosplay, crying over fictional characters, crying in general, video games, drawing, and talking to my cats. I work part time at a library. I am 21+. I'm about as intimidating as a pink butterfly stuck on a marshmallow. I'm an absolute chatter box, if I go on a tangent, just reel me back in.

☆○o。RP Preferences 。o○☆ ✦Writing I write in 3rd person format, multi/semi-para. I seek partners who do the same.

✦Replies I am able to reply frequently and I prefer to write with people that can do the same. I won't rush or badger anyone to reply. Take your time! Just not like a month, without warning. I lose muse/forget threads if they're left untouched for 2+ weeks. ✦Communication I enjoy making friends of my rp partners. It really helps me throw ideas/build ships/build stories if we're compatible.  ✦Plotting I highly value plotted threads over unplotted threads. Considering this ad is looking for a specific genre/plot, all I’m looking for is someone who wants to build onto it.  ✦Shipping The ship idea I’m seeking is not entirely romantic or platonic, if that makes sense. It can be either/or/in the middle, to be honest.  ✦Limits I am very squeamish, I can't handle things regarding gore, excessive swearing, excessive vulgarity, etc. very well.

☆○o。What Am I Looking For 。o○☆

I will pose a question. Do you like 70s style anime? That retro, water color, and everyone has a sparkly, floral background? Do you like tragedy with a sprinkling of possible edgy themes? Now, do you wish it had more fairies in it?

No? Just me? Understandable, have a nice day.

Before I give up at turn this into a fanfiction, I wanted to see if I could get some interesting variety through rp! I had discovered this old anime/manga called Kaze to ki no Uta. It has a full manga available online, and an hour long OVA that covers a good 1/3 of the manga, in that beautiful retro, harpsichord filled fashion. 

Now before I go any further, this story specifically has quite a bit of a chip on its shoulder in regards to how edgy it can go. Take a pot of edgy sauce and reduce it down to a sludge and that’s what you have left with this story masquerading as a tragic romance. 

I forgot where I was going with this, point is, it has some dark themes in it (not that I’m seeking those dark themes for writing but it does form a basis as to how I added fairies into the story.. If you want to see a suspension of belief, girl who believes she's part fairy get thrown into the mix of this story, then continue reading!)

This plot as two options Canon or Original. I’m mostly seeking the canon version because that’s how the plot developed in my head, but I did manage to weave a version purely for original basis. Or we can use the canon plot as a basis! Canon would be taking characters and themes from the story. The ‘fairy’ in question is this one. She looks kinda like this but a little older. A walking doll basically. Or this, right from the manga itself. A song that heavily inspires this character is this.  I got nothin' for an excuse besides I thought up a plot and can't get rid of it now. I'm actually not seeking romance (exactly?) from this one. I will say it’s probably 18+ because it has some dark themes in the story.  Canon This part turned into a giant wall of text so to give you the almost shorter version, it’s basically inserting the fairy-like character into a canon characters background and changing some stuff up a bit. If you know the canon story, it’s going to start in Volume 4 of the manga. If you have a general idea of the canon story, we can either follow it or like I said, go with an original, similar idea.

The gist of the story is a boy raised in poor circumstance becomes enchanted by a girl who believes she’s part fairy. It’s so much easier to explain if you know the canon story, so if you’re interested in this, hmu and I can go into further detail. 

The pairing concept, and bear with me cause it's probably going to sound weird, is a boy who never had a mothers love, finding it in a rather twisted way with a girl who very much enjoys taking care of 'things'. She's genuine in her feelings for him, but there's a reason why both characters end up getting drawn to one another. 

What unfolds in the story is a friendship that happens purely by chance, and the strange ways the new person must deal with this supposed demi-fairy girl. Her name is Clarabelle. 

Original Playboy Brat x Demi-Fairy Girl or Goody Two Shoes x Demi Fairy Girl Whether you want to use the 'canon' story line or go with something original is entirely up for us to decide and work on! This plot/set up should work with most character personality types, though I had one or two in mind; brat or goody-two-shoes.

This is a story set in the 19th century, or the general 1800's, in a small town I've yet to think up a name for. This town is very quaint but it's an otherwise quiet place. The idea I had in mind takes place in a sort of... suspended belief of reality, but not so much that fantasy is a part of the story.  There is a house in the more suburban area of the town, where it has its own property, including a garden in both the front and back, and it's covered in all sorts of greenery from flowers, floral bushes, to vines of ivy and trees. It's a very pretty house, but a very quiet one. A woman lives there. Beautiful, rich, sought after by all manner of men and she's quite the social butterfly - it's clear she's the owner of the house. Yet, there is a second inhabitant - a younger, more fair girl.  This story would be focused on the girl and her befriending, or being befriended by a newcomer. What they discover, however they met, is that the person living in this house is a girl not much older than they are (I picture they're about middle to late teens). She seems quite enigmatic, despite having such a social caretaker. The older woman is her aunt, her brother - Clara’s father - is a Duke. When asked who her mother was, she simply replies her mother was a fairy. This is where a mild suspension of belief is asked. For the sake of her enigmatic nature, it's never really confirmed or denied if what she says is true. Strange things seem to happen when she's around though. The house is covered in beautiful flowers and the garden is breathtaking, yet they give it very little care. People seem drawn to the girl when they see her. Her singing can lull even the most alert of people. She attracts the fireflies in the garden at night. Her appearance always seemed heralded by a butterfly, even in the dead of winter. She seems all together other worldly. What unfolds in the story is a friendship that happens purely by chance, and the strange ways the new person must deal with this supposed demi-fairy girl. Her name is Clarabelle. Now, you're probably wondering 'where does the character personality come into play in all this?' Since I created this plot using the canon content, I based the 'newcomer friend' on the personalities of the boys in Kaze; Gilbert and Serge. In this case, Gilbert, the blond one, is the one I originally picked out. He's a brat and she won't be manipulated by him.  I also mentioned the other boy, Serge, has a personality that would also work. Only in this case, he isn't a brat but exactly the opposite. An honest, goodey-two-shoes sort of kid.  How sad their background might be will be entirely dependent on the partner, should they choose to play this sort of character. (I like to think something like two broken people become friends and find themselves whole again after a while)

If you find that any of this has somehow managed to tickle your fancy, you can reach me on gaia at x_panko_x. Obv not everyone uses it so since this is posted on Tumblr, you can reach me OOC wise at whiterosemilktea for further discussion then we can decide where we'll write it out. As far as discord goes, it is also open for rping this genre and I will provide if you are interested. Honestly though, if you even recognize this genre or have seen this manga/anime I would love to talk to at least one other person who has.

[shima-draws]

Here it is...the AU I’ve been hinting at lately!!

It’s called Tied Dimensions! I’d give you a basic summary but it’s all already written out below, so you can just read that and get the gist :’) I just think the whole concept is super exciting so.

Read and enjoy!! (It’s from Keef’s POV btw)

My world ended about two hundred and fifty years ago.

We call it World’s Terminus. An unexplained phenomena that plunged the world into darkness and terror, without any prior warning. Nobody saw it coming. Therefore, nobody was prepared. There isn’t much one can do when the world begins to fall apart around them, except run and cower and hide—that is, if you can even make it that far.

I’m what comes after World’s Terminus—what remains of humanity from our planet’s collapse. Billions of people were wiped out from the incident, and the rest were left to rebuild society and start anew. Not that it was easy, considering everything important had been destroyed in the turmoil.

The one really sad thing about my existence is that, even though the world’s population is alarmingly low and needs all the life it can get, I was abandoned. Cast out. Not needed.

I live at a dingy old orphanage on the edge of a broken town, along with the rest of humanity’s unwanted. We’re a gang of angry, depressed misfits who curse what our world has come to, and wonder where it all went wrong. Not that we’d be able to change the outcome, anyway. It’s way too late for that.

This world no longer has any color, not that anybody alive remembers what having color is like. Everything green died, the sky turned a murky gray and all life seemed to be sucked out of the ground like a vacuum. There are still a few artifacts left behind of the world that was before World’s Terminus—but I’ve never seen them. They’re kept in the highest places in society, where the rich and elite live clinging on to the edges of their sanity. Old photographs, paintings and images from the past, the only things left in this world that still have color.

Not that everything has turned completely monotone, of course not. But anything that was once vibrant has none of that brilliance anymore, leaving us in a town full of grays, blacks and browns, and not much else. I have no idea what the color red looks like. Isn’t that utterly tragic?

I spend my days ostracized by the bullies of the orphanage, and ordered around by our so-called caretakers. None of them are kind people, so I’ve learned to do what I’m told without complaint or face beatings.

Any hope I might have had towards escaping this godforsaken place vanished years and years ago. People don’t want to adopt children, they’re too busy figuring out how to survive, how to keep their heads straight on a planet that hasn’t seen the sun in over two-hundred years. Our skies are always gray now, our whole lives are gray. What a boring, dull color.

I’m almost eighteen now. In a few months, I’ll finally be able to break free and cast off, off to some place that doesn’t reek of death and sadness, and at least try to find a place for myself in this world. I’ll no longer have to bow down to the obligations of the people who have raised me, and I won’t have to ever see the twisted, ugly faces of my peers who think they’re everything, when they’re actually nothing.

On the days where I feel more alone and angry than ever, I sneak out the back window and go exploring through the ruins of World’s Terminus.

Not much has happened to our planet after it came to an abrupt end, so things have stayed in tact quite well over the centuries. Old buildings from years and years ago still stand, and it’s in these buildings I like to poke around and see what I can find. The place I frequent most often is the old school building, a couple miles away from the orphanage.

Whenever I walk through the dusty halls and abandoned classrooms I feel this strange sense of nostalgia wash over me, and I desperately wish I could have had a normal life, attending school and making actual friends. My “brothers” and “sisters” at the orphanage don’t count. I’m not sure what having friends is like, but whatever relationship we happen to share is definitely not that.

It’s on one of these days when I come back from my adventures that everything I knew gets turned upside down. Literally.

There’s a visitor at the orphanage, which rarely ever happens at all. That’s the first sign that something is up. Secondly, and much to my immense shock, this stranger is dressed in the strangest clothing I’ve ever seen, and—there’s color. Some weird hue I’ve never seen before, except maybe reflected in the shadows of my eyes. Purple…that’s what I’ve been told what color my eyes are. Or, at least, dark purple.

The stranger’s eyes light up upon seeing me, and I only have moments to take in his short black hair and healthy skin tone before he grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“You’re Keith, right? Keith Kogane.”

He tells me he wants me to participate in a special project with him. Doesn’t really give any more details than that, even when I ask him who he is or where he comes from. The only thing I manage to get is his name—Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, but his friends call him Shiro. So this guy has friends…

Needless to say I’m skeptical, I mean, who wouldn’t be? This isn’t some sort of fairy tale where I’m the chosen hero who gets tossed into a grand adventure trying to save a princess or some bullshit. This world doesn’t work that way. It’s too dreary and lifeless for something that magical to happen to me of all people.

In the end, though, my curiosity wins over my suspicions, so I eventually decide to go with him.

If this turns out to be some sort of plot to lure me out and kill me, fine. It’s not like I have much to live for, anyway. I’ve just been biding my time until something happens—either I die from some tragic accident or finally get out of that hell house of an orphanage and try to make it on my own.

To my confusion, Shiro takes me to the old school building. A sense of apprehension builds up in my gut, telling me that this might be a murder attempt after all. Should I make a run for it?

“I’ve chosen you because you’re special, Keith,” Shiro explains as we weave our way through the halls, kicking up dust as we go. Oh, great. Not this bullshit again.

“You have an ability that not many other people have. That’s why…” He pauses to let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’ll see in a bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you right away.”

We reach the door to the courtyard, where we come to a halt. I gaze at the taller man curiously, with his sharp eyes and strong jaw, and wonder who the hell he is. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s some elite bastard who went off the rails and decided to abduct a teenager to play games with him.

Shiro grabs the handle of the door and pulls, which is obviously stupid because these doors open outward, so you have to push them—

A weird click sounds. Shiro jiggles the door handle and, suddenly, slides the door to the right.

What. The fuck? Since when did it ever do that?

“Alright, here goes.” He gives me a smile and with a final tug, pulls it open.

I step out onto the other side of the courtyard door. What I find there is something that immediately brings me to tears.

More colors than I’ve ever seen before in my life greet my eyes. They bloom and blossom and explode in such a vibrancy that it makes me dizzy, crowding in all around and putting pressure on my skull.

The courtyard is teeming with life—grass sways in the wind, there’s the sound of laughter coming from somewhere off in the distance, and an enormous tree rustles above my head, scattering leaves here and there. I look up and see the sun for the first time, blinding and dazzling, so very bright.

It all sort of happens too quickly for me to process, so after instantaneously bursting into tears, I have to crouch down and bury my face in my knees. It’s too much. Too much information, too many colors I don’t know, it’s so vibrant and beautiful—

“Is that Shiro’s pet project?”

“Hey, n—what did you do to him, Shiro?”

Shiro sounds apologetic and slightly panicked. “I didn’t think—he’s overwhelmed. It’s too much for him to process. I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Aw, the poor thing!”

“Well yeah, if you bring him in from a world with no color to this he’s gonna freak out, dude. Sensory overload, you know?”

“Matt’s gonna kick your ass for this.”

“Keith, are you alright?”

My head is pounding and the world as I know it is swaying in front of my eyes, but I nod. Yes. I’m more than alright, I just—

“Hey, take it easy there, man. It’s a lot to take in, right?”

A voice sounds right next to my ear, melodical and soft. I can’t help but peek through my fingers a little.

Sitting in front of me is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And maybe that’s biased, coming from me, but it’s the truth. Sun-kissed skin and dark brown hair, a mischievous expression and lanky but strong limbs, and once again the weirdest clothing I’ve ever seen are what makes up this mysterious yet beautiful boy that has come into my midst. And the most astonishing thing of all are his eyes, a couple shades darker than the sky. I don’t know what color they are, but I think it’s my favorite now.

The boy tilts his head and beams at me, flashing a pair of pearly white teeth. Around him his friends all smile down at me, bursting, bursting with color. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more breathtaking.

This is…this is…

“Welcome to our world, Keith!”

This is World’s Variegation.

AND THAT’S IT!! TIED DIMENSIONS :’)

To sum things up: Keith lives in a world after the apocalypse, where there is no life, no meaning, and no color. One day Shiro shows up to the orphanage he lives at and takes him into an alternate dimension through the courtyard door that is teeming with life and color, things Keith’s never seen before, so he sorta has a breakdown and gets suuuuper overwhelmed. Like Lance said. Sensory overload it’s too much for his brain (which usually only sees dark colors and shades of gray) to take haha Keith learns that he is a Traverser, someone who can travel between dimensions, or rather what he calls World’s Terminus and World’s Variegation (I know the definition usually refers to plants, but I mean the definition as in “diversity of colors” so yeah haha). Shiro has chosen him to take part in the TDP, Tied Dimensions Project, which serves as a basis for research on both worlds and their connection to each other. However!! Like all of my AUs there’s a big secret behind the research and exactly why Shiro brought Keith to the other world. Throughout all of this Keith jumps back and forth between the dimensions every day, since he legally still belongs to the orphanage and has to go back. He starts to discover what LIVING really means with the help of all of Shiro’s friends, and starts falling in love with Lance. He gets to experience what the world could have been like if World’s Terminus never happened, and does all these amazing things he would have never even thought to dream of before...

Anyway yeah that’s the AU!! It’s really fun to think about and have Keith experience all these new and exciting things and just get overwhelmed about it all the time but his friends are like “It’s okay, we get it, just take a second to sit down and relax and chill” and it’s. NICE

SO YEAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED //JAZZ HANDS 

[asaricciardi-blog]

A Story About Tom the Sheep

Once there was a sheep named Tom.

Tom was raised like a dog — like a pet.

He came when called and enjoyed scratches and belly rubs. He had great spunk, personality and was much loved all around.

What a sweet, happy sheep was Tom. Tom followed his people wherever they went and was a great help on the farm.

Tom didn’t have his manly bits, if you know what I mean, so he was used as a teaser sheep.

Put Tom in with the ewes and in a few months — wham-o! Everyone’s ovulating in sync. Tom heads home and a “real” ram replaces him. Ram does his job, if you know what I mean, and lo and behold — spring lambs.

Lovely story right? I would love to have a Tom sheep trotting in my kitchen. (Forget the fact that I don’t have a kitchen because I’ve been nomading for two years.)

Two years ago in Argentina, I met Oscar the lamb. He was just 6 months old and a fan of dog food. Dog food is very, very bad for sheep by the way. It causes all sorts of itchy, raw, terrible skin reactions.

Oscar was the lone sheep on a horse ranch I was volunteering on. I really loved Oscar. He was a funny lamb, very enthusiastic, very chatty, very attached to people. Not in the least bit concerned with the 10+ dogs on the property yapping at him through honeycombed fences.

Oscar was just so content to munch his clover.

Sheep are simple creatures, but I guess when given enough attention and human interaction, as opposed to a constant flock mentality, they can turn out right smart like.

Like Tom.

But one day, Tom wasn’t so smart.

Tom was keeping a flock company on the day the big truck came to escort the sheep to the slaughterhouse.

Tom was just happy to be part of the group. Go where they go. Do what they do. Tom jumped onto the truck.

Nobody noticed he was missing until it was too late.

I hate this story.

I never met Tom but I feel immeasurably sad all the same. Our Kiwi host family (we were volunteering on a Scottish Highland cattle hobby farm) knew the couple who raised Tom, and they were all very distraught for weeks after this tragic accident.

It’s rather like The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, isn’t it?

It makes me wonder though — why it is so tragic for Tom but not the other sheep?

We think and rightly so, “Well, Tom’s different. Tom’s loved. Tom’s smart. Like a dog, and we wouldn’t eat a dog.”

Maybe all sheep could be loved.

Maybe all sheep could be smart.

Tom was only different because he was pulled apart for a different way of life and so he learned a different way of being.

I know sheep are raised for food and milk and wool and it’s all a cycle of life and healthy and normal. Seemingly healthy if raised and slaughtered humanely that is.

Few people do the humane part and the sheep farms I’ve seen out east in Colorado near where I grew up, are very depressing and completely disgusting.

Anyway, I have these nagging thoughts about the cycle of life.

Just because something has been a cycle, does that mean it must stay a cycle?

We are, after all, evolving.

I am not a vegetarian, but I think about vegetarianism often.

I don’t have full answers and won’t be putting away my steak knife just yet.

Here’s what I’m wrestling with:

If I — or we as a collective whole of evolving people with new options available for nutrition that weren’t a good option ever before in history — if we have the option to be meat free…shouldn’t we be?

If we can healthily and readily be come vegetarians and choose not to kill, is that not a higher road?

I am playing the devil’s advocate in a way. I have arguments for and against that question.

I am trying to confront both the discomfort I feel at watching life and breath taken from an innocent, defenseless animal and the desire to consume a fragrantly roasted leg of lamb that was marinated in wine and rosemary, olive oil and sea salt.

We eat living things to live. I know.

It’s been happening for millions of years and I get that some animals cannot survive as herbivores. They will continue to be predators it seems, at least until prey is scarce, and then they will die off, or they will evolve to be able to survive on plants, nuts, or other forms of food.

But humans actually can survive and thrive on a vegetarian and even vegan diet.

Not necessarily in all areas of the world of course. Veganism seems to be another form of white privilege. However, I am a proponent for eating close to the earth and at times that means to eat — meat.

In Greenland, whale and seal and narwhal are common fare.

You just can’t grow much in the way of green things up there, and the fat in the sea animals is full of good nutrients and essential vitamins and trace minerals. Those people should continue to eat sea life especially because it is part of the native history, heritage, and culture.

It would be absurd to endanger narwhals anymore though and ship them around the world for consumption.

So it’s a dilemma. And I have not yet found peace with it in my soul.

I do think the U.S. consumes an inordinate and unnecessary amount of meat.

That people are obsessed with, say, bacon because it has become a sort of identity and source of pride.

“You’re a real woman if you like bacon! More men will want to date you!”

Seriously? Where did this message come from?

Bacon band-aids. Bacon Christmas ornaments. Bacon wrapped bacon.

Advertising makes us obsessive.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I like bacon. But I don’t eat it every day. I don’t even eat it every week.

And this is where I think we as a nation, as a people, as humans, can and must show more restraint and moderation.

Too many of us are way out of sync with the way the world works.

Chicken comes in a package at a grocery store. We never see the feathers. We never even see the dirt or the poop on the eggs that were most definitely there at one point.

We live separated from nature, animals, and this cycle of birth and death.

We all too readily avoid death at any cost.

We don’t confront the uncomfortable.

This is not a strength, but a deficit. It is unfortunate.

We have made meat-eating an identity and I think that’s dangerous.

We should not take so much pride in this. We should respect the life we consume.

If we had more awareness of what it takes to raise and kill an animal, we would not eat so much of it.

But it is very easy to forget this in a supermarket.

The older I get, the more sensitive I feel about life. All life.

I don’t kill spiders. I don’t take pleasure in crushing ants. I’m sad for the pigeons swept up in car wheels.

I didn’t use to be this way. I didn’t use to think about these creatures. I lived from a gut reaction. I suppose I lived with little awareness and in response to patterns I learned from my family, community, and world at large.

In the end, I still struggle with eating meat and yet I still eat meat because I’m not sure foregoing meat is actually the answer or the answer I am looking for.

Maybe I am simply looking for more respect of life, more awareness of how connected we are to each other, and more self-control/awareness when it comes to how we treat our bodies and the bodies of creatures around us.

The meat industry is not a pretty business. It is not sustainable and it is not kind.

Eat local. Buy from farmers you trust, from farms you’ve visited. That’s a pretty good practice when possible.

I challenge you to think about how many times you eat animal products in a week. I bet you think it’s not a meal unless there is a meat protein. That’s propaganda. That’s false advertising. You don’t need to eat meat to get enough protein in your diet.

So why not cut back a bit? Get creative in vegetarian meal planning. For some reason, people think eating vegetarian means it’s boring and there’s no flavor. My god…use some spices people!

At home, I mainly eat vegetarian meals and never think twice about it. I haven’t reached a place where I want to impose my diet on other people though. I will eat anything anyone puts in front of me when I am a guest in their home, and I will eat it in gratitude.

I remember the night our New Zealand hosts cooked up corned beef from one of their highland cattle. It was incredible. Absolutely delicious. I was so thankful for that meal. It was hard though because I’d bonded with those cattle, but I also knew they had a good, good life and their lives were not taken in vain. The family ate from their organic garden 90% of the time.

The next weekend the family cooked up some sausages from their pigs who use to walk the orchards but had been in the freezer for a few months by the time I arrived.

Pigs are pretty smart too you know. People keep them for pets. What makes it OK to eat some animals and not others?

Now that is another can of worms for another blog.

In the meantime, let’s be uncomfortable together.

It’s OK to consider and discuss these things. But let’s take identity out of the issue for once. And by that I mean the stereotypes and judgments we place on what “kind of person” a vegetarian is, or a vegan is, or a meat-eater is.

And instead, let’s just talk about what being a good caretaker of the earth is.

Cheers,

Aša Ricciardi

[princelucivaryaslana]

I need to rant about my D&D character because a lot of heavy shit was revealed to me by the DM last night because even tho we are only 2 sessions in, pure luck and die rolls have accelerated the plot very quickly and i’m dying, it’s very long and i don’t expect anyone to read it, i just love my character and his brother and i’m DYING

So my character is a pink tiefling named Valafar Nemonis, but he goes by Mercy, right. He’s the firstborn of a fallen aasimar named Lillith “Lila” Nemonis and her tiefling husband Barnabas “Carrion” Nemonis, who also happens to be the head of the largest criminal organization in literally the whole continent and is also a VERY powerful politician. Valafar was his dad’s best assassin for YEARS, was deliberately groomed to be such, and he was a force to behold. 

There’s a lot of backstory backstory ‘cause this game’s taking place in the same universe that our old campaign took place in, but essentially there are these big amorphous gems that represent and contain the power of each plane of existence, and at one point due to Old Plot Reasons they shattered and now exist as thousands of small shards, which people have found and used for many purposes. 

Valafar’s dad, specifically, is in the business of finding as many of these shards as he can because of the power they contain. In order to make Valafar the heartless killer he desired him to be so as to achieve this end, he deliberately groomed Valafar to think himself superior to all but his father and drove a MASSIVE wedge between Valafar and his little brother Iari (who is the spitting image of his grandfather, Barnabas’s abusive dad; it’s tragic), to the point where Iari was moved to the servants’ quarters to separate them physically and was often used as a literal punching bag by both Valafar and Barnabas in Barnabas’s attempts to separate them emotionally, to reasonable success. (This is especially tragic because Valafar and Iari loved each other to the point where a 10-year-old Valafar got his mother’s help in creating a small heart-shaped dangley earring for his 4-year-old brother while their father was absent on business, simply because Iari had come home from an outing with their mother and excitedly told him about “a rose-colored tiefling woman who looked just like you! She was so pretty and had the most beautiful earrings!” He still has the earring. I’m dying inside.) 

The problem was, near the end of this training, Barnabas wanted to make sure his son was truly ruthless, and he did so by giving Valafar a puppy to raise, with a name and everything, and then ordered him to kill it a few months later. This trauma, plus the fact that Valafar couldn’t crush the pity he held in his heart for his brother no matter how much his father beat them both over it, led him to make the decision that rewrote his entire everything.

Valafar was sent to complete a botched mission that a few of his father’s underlings had failed to accomplish some weeks before, wherein they not only managed to kill the wife of the man they were after and not the man himself, but also failed to acquisition the piece of the Faewild shard they were sent to take from him. The man was, of course, on his guard this time, and he was able to arm himself with the sword that held the piece of the shard Valafar was after and fight back. 

Unfortunately, as providence would have it, three things happened at once: the man’s very young son entered the room upon hearing a racket; Valafar saw the little boy, about whom he had been previously unaware, and immediately realized he didn’t want to kill the man and orphan the child; and the man took Valafar’s hesitation as an opening and chopped Valafar’s shoulder with the sword. The green shard in the sword reacted to the magic that resided thick in Valafar’s blood, and the resulting explosion of green light killed the man, knocked the child unconscious, and bleached Valafar’s once solid-black eyes a fair mint bluegreen and rewired his brain a considerable amount (aka turned him from a lvl 10 assassin rogue into a lvl 1 druid and lowered his Intelligence to 10 in favor of boosting his Charisma).

Panicked, confused, and filled with a resolve he had previously found lacking, Valafar took the unconscious boy to a family in town to raise, stressing very heavily that he needed to leave and that he was relying on them to protect the boy. Then he took to the woods and lived alone for a few years, becoming acquainted with his new abilities, taking on the name Mercy, and desperately formulating a plan to save his brother from their father before it was too late. 

Meanwhile, Iari had made massive progress towards becoming a top-class assassin in his attempts to garner his father’s approval and become like his brother his whole life, but with Mercy on the run, his father’s approval still didn’t come; in fact, all he was given were assignments paid for by a new-money noble family across the continent and the overarching assignment to “Bring my son back to me, dead or alive. Do not fail me as you have your whole life.” His despair at his father’s hatred of him paired with his brother’s final abandonment of him unlocked the magic in HIS blood and expedited his growth as a top-tier killer. Now known as The Lavender Death, Iari is the most feared assassin in the entire world, and he is coming after Mercy.

Mercy was given the warning by a messenger from his father’s organization under Iari’s orders and is currently on the run to avoid “running into that little shit until I’m old and ready to die,” now teamed up with a goliath barbarian, a warforged wizard, and a baby silver dragon who recently lost its caretaker (the guy was playing a dragon trainer ranger and quit two sessions in lmao). 

Now, the reason that the plot has been accelerated very quickly is because, in an attempt to get out of the city and muddle any trail his brother might use to find him, Mercy asked the warforged’s creator to opened a portal to a random location for him and the goliath, who is also a target of The Lavender Death because he’s the escaped slave and murderer of a few of the members of the new-money noble family Mercy’s dad has contracts with (he’s also the son of a giant slave and a human woman from said noble family, it’s complicated and sad), and where should we be teleported by the luck of the dice

than to Mercy’s home country, three miles away from his home city, near enough that Iari could sense him via their mutual connection to the positive energy plane and begin his game of cat and mouse about three or four LEVELS early

So now we have a level 10 Iari after our little level 4 party of three (and a half) and i’m very scared and very tired and very Emotional and one of three things is gonna happen:

1) Iari is going to kill Mercy and then himself (he goes by the name Parricide, which the DM told me means “to kill someone dear to you” and i’m fuckin dying he still wears the earring Mercy made him 16 years ago the DM’s so cruel) 2) Mercy is going to have to kill Iari and deal with the trauma of watching his baby brother die in his arms because he failed to save him 3) By some power of luck and providence, Mercy will manage to stave off the deaths of his party and Iari long enough to make peace with Iari and become his ally and brother again

If Iari and/or Mercy die, their mother is going to finally get fed up with their father and leave him and take his eye out with Inflict Wounds (oh yeah me mommy is a DEATH CLERIC btw) when he inevitably tries to stop her

If Mercy lives, regardless of Iari’s fate, Mercy’s gonna build up his power and then D E S T R O Y his father 

I’M AN EMOTIONAL MESS

TL;DR: My character’s brother is a better assassin than my character was before my character’s levels were replaced with druid levels and now there’s a lot of complicated and heartbreaking plot underway and i’m very emotional about it because I am also irl a shitty favored older sibling who engaged in the mistreatment of my younger sibling and it’s amazing how much life imitates art

[goldfistgirl]

adderall really helps me stay functioning and not depressed and not having these invasive constant thoughts. i’m actually impressed. sad thoughts still occur to me, but they feel manageable every time and sometimes, when i’m lucky, they’re even fleeting. that hasn’t been the case in probably a year and a half. i’m so thankful, and i need to sort out medical care for that.

i also need to meditate on parts of my life that i can’t change. i need to work on accepting them. i have historically been brilliant at this (low income, father not in my life, etc). i have even been understanding of things like my dad not raising me or not being able to be driven places during high school (like tennis matches). gg’s loss even felt inevitable and ok to me. somehow i managed to accept and handle her loss with relative ease because i knew it was inevitable. the hardest parts of that were dealing with suzanne’s cruel wish for gg to “just die already” and the way my family absorbed her finances for their selfish gain, rather than allowing me to become her caretaker and use that money to actually take care of her. we could have stayed in the apartment she likes, i could have bought a car, and i could have driven her to the places she needed to go. i really wish that is how it would have gone. i learned i need to take initiative rather than allow others to take control and patronize me. i still remember crying so much when we drove gg to mt rainier and she got sick in the car and threw up. what a miserable several hours for her to suffer. i just hated it. it makes me so so so so sad. her end was so painful, and i just... i think there’s so little dignity in the way she passed, and it hurts my heart, because she truly deserved better. a woman so fucking strong, so fucking stubborn, so self-assured, and so invested in the lives of the people around her... it’s cruel that she ended up alone. she liked being alone, but it was wrong that she was condemned to that, because even people who love being alone that much shouldn’t constantly be isolated. it’s bad for our mental health. sigh. tragic. 

 i really only recently lost the ability to cope with certain things. i couldn’t handle last february when those girls bullied me online. that fucked me up. i spent my entire mexico vacation depressed. i couldn’t cope with how ugly i felt in my clothes and body. i am glad i am investing more in my appearance because it makes me feel like i’m taking initiative over how i look. i want to continue to take care of my body and appearance. i want to tan my legs, lose weight, wear fitted and stylish clothing, and practice makeup. i want to get my gouache-like tattoos (rather than watercolor, i should say, since i dont want drippy looking stuff, just faded/blended colors that are kind of “wet” but not like it was painted on a wet canvas). sometimes i get scared that these desires are because i want a man’s approval, but actually a lot of these feelings existed prior to any interest in a man. interest in a man simply exasperated this issue.

other things i couldn’t handle were my shitty job changes, failing at interviews, feeling unloved by josh (which always comes in waves, it’s so bizarre, and now i feel more confident in his love for me, but why? i never used to feel like it before... more just like he won’t leave because he has settled on me), and then of course all the drama with KJosh. That was so toxic from the beginning. I cannot BELIEVE I allowed my self to be involved with him like that in a way that dissatisfied me. And then now again sigh. 

i am also glad i took initiative to talk to a doctor about depression. i am glad i tried medication. i need to continue that path because it will help me cope, i think. adderall or prozac or something. i need to continue to use the gym to relax and watch tv and move my body. i need to gain the courage to try weights. i need to eat good food in the day, hydrate all day, and limit late day eating.

i need to take initiative to make things the way i want them. i feel bad about. if i want to see josh, i need to say, “do you want to hang out?” you know? i mean, i did try to take initiative like that in january, and it flopped. he turned me down so many times, mostly so he could be with girls (or alone because he was exhausted from those girls). he even made copl jokes then, so it’s important to remind myself that his inside jokes and callbacks to stuff are just how he interacts with women. he likes to be close to women on a girlfriend/boyfriend level without actually dating them because for him, dating = path to marriage, and that looms over him. he doesn’t understand that what he wants from a female friendship is literally a girlfriend lol. that creates a strange sort of demand of intimacy from women in his life without him actually caring about that kind of intimacy on an equal level. like for sure he’s weird. he doesn’t even acknowledge that we are currently casually dating. but i am not gonna push it because it will just depress me to hear him say shitty things about whatever.

what i do need to do is, again, meditate on the fact that i can’t control his feelings toward me. i need to constantly remind myself that he does not love me nor does he ever, ever want a long term relationship. his personality cannot work with LTR because he quickly becomes bored and needs new people in his life. he is not familiar with how to maintain long term friendships, even. i am happy to try to show him what that looks like, but it is possible that his personality is not compatable with ltr. personalities change, but i am not in control of that, and if he does not change, it is not a reflection on me. it does not mean that i am not “good enough” to motivate him to want to be around a person for a long time. i can potentially avoid “burning him out” by giving him space, and i like space too, and since i feel more secure in his at least friendly interest in me, i do not feel threatened by staying away. i dont feel like i need to be near him to show off my awesomeness. it is somewhat healthier now, and hopefully i can be down to earth and accept it if it becomes unhealthy and i need to leave. i need to remind myself that it is ok to become fed up with waiting and toxic mentalities. it is sad to leave, but i need to be realistic. meditate on this shit, jenn! daily reminders so i don’t fall into some emotional please-love-me trap!

see, even when he was using me last year, there were still opportunities for me to have a good time with him, like go to some destination with him in jenny’s car. i just needed to actually literally ask. he would have potentially said yes back then. january was a bad time because he was so Over me. damn, he got over me before he even dumped me. hell, he was never under/into me! 

i’m still worried i’ll take it personally if he doesn’t see me on the weekends, so i need to like... brainwash myself into being ok with it. i mean, ffs, i have my own fucking life and interests. i should do my own god damn shit. i literally WANT to do my own stuff again, too, which is a nice refreshing feeling. last year i had lost interest and motivation for my own things, like a fucking shit depressing cycle. 

i need to take initiative to enjoy the time i do have with him because it’s temporary. i had that mentality before--that i needed to enjoy what i could before it came to its inevitable end--but i need to for sure be more active now. ask him to do things, go places. i dont want the whole “go to mt rainier” thing to be just talk. i wanna DO that with him. and i also wanna do chill things like have him over to my house. i wanna learn to cook with him. just all that shit. 

when i think about being his girlfriend, i actually don’t like it. but i do know i like what we are doing now. and that i selfishly want him to want to be with me for the ego boost smh.