#life has been hell Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[oldworldghost]

theres this memorable line of Carlo during the beach flashbacks when he tells Romeo to "grab her" like wtf.....guys got desperate

They can grab me anytime

[leenfiend]

what’s ur type first < prev next > full comic

[kryaaas]

Never getting over the fact that Harry can literally solve all the case by himself but if he doesnt have Kim or Cuno to back him up (or have "Waste Land of Reality" thought internalised) his precinct just abandones him :(

[cruelplatonic]

my personal headcanon is the vees were unremarkable nobodies when they were alive. i just love it as a thematic throughline for them. they love to let the public of hell speculate on them being famed and acclaimed since before death, but the the truth is they were a d-list failed influencer that got by on cheap controversey and scamming, a broke junkie who burned every shaky bridge he ever had, and a worn-out broadcast production assistant with more rejected auditions and tossed out script pitches than he could count. nobody missed them when they were gone, nobody cared who they were until they were dead.

[camellia-thea]

okay. just rambling here, but, i think armand took more than just the end of the interview away from daniel.

we got that little moment about that night, saying 'you asked me to' to louis. 'you asked me to take this from you, you could not live with it,' leading into, 'i look after you when you cannot look after yourself, i make those choices for you.'

we know that during the chase and devil's minion era, daniel was an addict, who was, by his own admission, slowly killing himself. he was also addicted to blood.

it's really not too far to make the jump, if devil's minion occurred, that armand made the choice to step in, in his own mind, for daniel's best interests. i know this isn't a unique jump to make, but; again with armand's "i look after him when he cannot look after himself" continual reiteration, i think it's a fair assumption.

he can also replace and blur memories, which makes the discussion of alice and paris -- why the dessert from that night? -- and how immediate and sincere his answer of "she wanted to say yes, but she didn't trust you. you hadn't given her a reason to." this could be the night he took them away, replaced himself with alice, planted something similar for her to start the relationship, then step back and watch it fall. and i think the thing that stands out there is just how tender he is while saying it. there's an undercurrent of something else entirely underneath, it isn't a dig at daniel in the moment, despite the pushing earlier in the scene.

and then in s1, when louis say to daniel, "i'd give it to you now." and the cut to armand, still in disguise, and his micro-expression of horror, the way he stiffens and looks away... and the little moment of what i read as conflict when daniel says no. his jump to "may i be excused?" i can't tell in the moment, if he's horrified about the offer itself, the fact that it is louis offering to turn daniel rather than himself, or the fact that daniel denies it. because i don't think armand could actually let daniel die if this was the case.

the disguise itself-- why pretend to be rashid? i think part of it is to try and hide behind a human persona to keep those memories at bay; especially given the little moments of flashback that got triggered by little mannerisms. i can't decide whether they're intentional pushes or not, whether armand wanted/wants daniel to remember on his own, or wants to keep it under wraps. i think, even if he believes he doesn't want it to come forward, he truly does deep down.

and once he's revealed himself as armand, the way he gazes at daniel, his beautiful boy. the continued "our boy", from both he and louis, the "he's still in there, somewhere..."

and i think "our boy" is also really interesting, because why would daniel be armand's boy, based solely on the moments that louis initially remembered? armand didn't really have any emotional connection to daniel that night, sure, he saved him, but that doesn't really mean anything; he saved daniel for louis, not for daniel's sake.

and, jumping back "our boy,[...] he's still in there somewhere"... there's implication that louis might know about it? again, i don't think this is related to the original interview, or at least, limited to it? i don't have anything concrete here, just vibes, but again, why is armand's boy still in there somewhere?

and sure, some of these are reaches and i don't think i'm necessarily right, but god it would be deliciously awful if i was.

[clonedchaos]

Replaying Dark Revival for the first time in months for the Halloween overlay and I forgot how creepy the elevator scene is. Like WILSON if you don’t stop your YAPPING I’m going to backhand you to the shadow realm. You’re making my girl uncomfortable! >:(

Wilson: “It’s beautiful out. Just… gorgeous.”

Me: “If you don’t shut the heck up I’m about to make your pronouns “L + ratio/ R.I.P. bozo”, old man.”

I MISSED THIS GAME SO MUCH, YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!!

[wayfinderships]

Auhgh my beloved! How I love you so,,,,💙

[lunarharp]

wanted to adapt the google search results a gay woman got in a japanese drama "tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna" which is good btw.

[spaciebabie]

does any other demiromantic (or arosepc doesnt rlly matter) feel like. extremely awful when they experience romantic attraction or is that just me.

[clannfearrunt]

A slightly edited writeup stitched together from discord ramblings, about Rill vs his adoptive families. Lol. It’s long

Fathom and Mariana are an international and interracial couple, and they’re the same morph*. There are actual layers of bigotry they’ve faced while trying to get married. However, they are also very much pampered kids from generationally wealthy families. They do consider themselves very socially progressive, but this is true only relative to their immediate social circles. They have this Image of themselves as Good People and don’t have the self-awareness to recognize and unlearn the bigotry they do very much still hold, mainly towards other species. This has been a constant source of headache for Rill, who has to live with them and interact with their families.

(*Fish have a system of distinct “morphs” in addition to sex that informs the gender politics of their various cultures. The two morphs are referred to as drakes and hens in this language. I swear I will get into details on a different post. The particular ways the intersection of sex and morph is handled varies a lot by culture, but across most of them people are expected to be attracted to the opposite sex and morph. Relationships between the same morph can face more scrutiny than same sex ones in many places, as morphs are much easier to determine than sex at a glance.)

The big concession the couple made in order to gain their family’s approval was that they wouldn’t have biological children. So of course they went to adopt. But. The reaction of the extended family towards Fathom and Mariana's adoption of Rill, an Inkling, was mostly confusion. Like, most of them didn't exactly disapprove, but were definitely like, "? what the fuck?? why".

Rill himself consistently gets the impression that they chose to adopt him to reinforce their image of being Good Progressive People. When he was younger he definitely got paraded around at social events and occasionally ended up on gossip publications, and he only recently managed to weasel out of ending up on his parents’ social media posts all of the time. He’s a goddamn publicity stunt. It’s sickening. Unlike what Rill believes, it’s not an intentional Thing on his parents’ minds though. It’s definitely there, but it’s subconscious. Anyways.

The Nykur family initially reacted to Rill with an air of condescending curiosity; their view of Inklings is very colored by longstanding stereotypes of them being simple, frivolous, and lazy, and they had met very few Inklings in person to remotely challenge this view. They've warmed up quite a bit to Rill as he quickly adapted and showed himself to be a bright, well-spoken young man. They mildly pity him for not being able to speak their mother tongue (it is physiologically very difficult for Inklings), but he can respond in either an extremely restrictive selection of words he can manage to pronounce, Peixe (a more globally common Fish Language), or in writing, which is just absolutely phenomenal from an Inkling wowww way to go boy! Even now that they’ve grown to mostly like him, though, Rill consistently gets the vibe of being treated more like a talking animal than a family member, let alone a person.

Mariana's family, the Poecilias, were a little bit more familiar with Inklings, as her country’s warm and humid climate allowed a thriving minority population of Inkfish to establish itself there in the past century or so. They were expecting a boisterous, flamboyantly outgoing boy as per local stereotypes but have been pleasantly surprised by Rill's more reserved and shy demeanor. Some of them might like him a little more than they do Mariana lol, she's definitely the problem child of the family. They don't visit this side of the family as much due to the slightly strained relation Mariana has with them, but they do tell her to bring Rill when she does. Rill... doesn’t dislike them as vehemently as he does the Nykurs, but he finds them very draining to deal with regardless. He’s mostly kind of wearily disinterested in them for now.

The extended Nykur family has been more overtly shit towards Rill. Wether it’s because they’re “more” bigoted towards Inklings or if it’s just that they’ve had more opportunities to show themselves he doesn’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that the reason Inklings have a hard time with a bulk of their language is because it falls outside of their range of hearing, and they’ve said some heinous shit in earshot. Rill doesn’t... really know what the best course of action is for him here, so he’s been just been quietly seething. When he visits them he mostly just tries his best to stick close to his parents or Nobils, the butler, and not end up alone with the rest of the family. In all fairness I don’t think most of them would intentionally hurt him, but Rill doesn’t really want to find out.

TO Fathom’s credit also I do think he has told off his family over the really overt shit. He's not malicious, he's just clueless (if occasionally dangerously so), and there is a threshold where it's obvious enough that he's gonna know it's Getting Bad. And he does, technically, actually like his son. So Fathom will intervene, but most of the time it's not like. Serious/stern enough. It's very "hey let's not talk politics at the dinner table"-core... You know that vibe of "ohh don't get so mad at your horrifically racist/queerphobic/insert bigotry here uncle it's thanksgiving dinnerrrr let's not ruin thanksgiving dinner 🥺”. Rill gets a lot of this. He hates Fathom so much. Defend him or don’t, make up your goddamn mind.

Rill is genuinely terrified that if he acts out too much he'd just be unceremoniously disowned. It's much less of a hassle for his "family" to distance themselves from him than it would have been if he was their biological child, or even at least the same species. If this happens he has literally no one else to turn to for support. This fear is a central force shaping his Behaviors. I do think it's a significant bit less likely than he's convinced himself it is? Like, his parents are probably not actually going to drop him like a hot potato the moment he even slightly talks back at them. He's not wrong that they could, and on some level it's not impossible that they would, but it is more unlikely than he's convinced himself it is. With a lot of things I have to have this preface of like. Yes Rill's fears are very much rooted in reality. But he's also very much prone to paranoia and blowing up the risk factors of some things. Important to remember both things are true.

Nobils, the butler, is definitely the main thing keeping Rill from imploding prior to meeting Thresher. When Rill was adopted, he saw The Situation and quickly stepped up as his actual main caretaker. Unlike his employers, Nobils was firmly aware of the gaps in his knowledge regarding Inklings and how to care for them, and worked very hard to fill those gaps and give Rill the best physical and emotional care possible. Rill was at one point extremely close to him, as he was the only safe adult in his life. Nobils also helped raise Fathom, so his failure to be a good father to Rill has been a source of deep sadness and frustration. Unlike an actual parent/child relationship, he's very limited in his ability to confront Fathom, since he's his employer.

Nobils cares deeply for Rill, and sees him as something fairly close to a grandchild. His biggest regret was reminding Rill that he was a well compensated employee in a bid to reassure him that he wasn't being a burden to him. This would have been fine for someone like Fathom, but Rill took it very poorly. He’s retreated into himself since then. Rill puts up an awkward pretense of professionalism between them now that Nobils can clearly see hurts him very deeply... But he recognizes he has no idea how to repair his trust, and has resigned himself to supporting Rill as best as he can while respecting this distance.

Rill does still love Nobils deeply, but he's been trying very hard not to. The realization that Nobils is a servant, doing a job came way after he had grown heavily emotionally reliant on him. It was devastating and embarrassing. Rill wasn't quite old enough or idk. Stable enough? to process that "Nobils is here because it is his job" and "Nobils genuinely loves and cares about him" can be true at the same time. Nowadays this is kind of stewing in the back of his mind but he's too stubborn/scared/mysterious set of emotions to allow himself to admit that it's true. There's a complex and deep well of bitterness and longing. He's never going to forgive Nobils for... being an employee? But if he ever quits he'll never forgive him for that either. He's starved for affection, as much as he'll never admit it, and he's infinitely bitter that any he receives from Nobils is irreversibly tainted in his eyes by their financial ties. Rill is also Not Acknowledging how old this guy is. We are not going to think about the passage of time and mortality or anything. Don't worry about it. Nobils will live forever 👍 It’s his job. He’s very good at his job. He would never leave him.

Nobils is so relieved to see Rill finally hanging out with someone his age he seems to actually like (Thresher). Even if he appears to also be imploding about it. This is an improvement. Can we get this boy a support structure! Can anyone help his boy. Please

[skillzissue]

Going feral here’s a sketch about a Crack AU idea

He’s the only one left in his dimension bc everyone died to the Kraang <3

He Travels to other dimensions trying to remember his past but mostly he just kind of shows up to places and gives everyone therapy and then leaves

[noir-ish-bee]

oh wait classes start tomorrow . What :(

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[thebirdandhersong]

Okay y'all it is over it is done the conversation has been had he knows I love him we are still friends I have cried my eyes out properly I have laughed again my heart will keep on hurting for a while but it is FINISHED

[starchildghost]

every word I say is kindling (but the smoke clears when you're around) - a Laudna/Imogen au, chapter 3/3: may your peace walk on with you for a while. also on ao3.

/

It takes time - longer than you had thought, so much so that you grow a bit fearful, a decidedly mortal emotion you had thought deadened inside of you - for either of them to notice.

It’s Laudna, of course, who does first. Her threads are all blue and the once-black of Delilah that chokes her; red is a color she hasn’t associated with since the last of it bled out of Matilda’s hands as she wrenched herself from the Sun Tree. It’s natural that she’s startled by the wave of red that hits her - red tether, red moon, red fury, red end. She’s used to only two voices in her head (three, if you count her ratbird) - she startles at the new, overwhelming one.

Startles, and feels revulsion creep in. You have put so much on the woman’s shoulders; she grows tired of it. Tired of fate.

Laudna, still biding her time on her airship, does not react to the affront on her consciousness; she waits for whatever lies on the other side to make its move.

/ 

Imogen’s dwellings within her mother’s domain aren’t humble by any means; she is a Temult, their savior, and her abode must reflect that. The Ruby Vanguard, however, dealing in secrets and keeping themselves from drawing too much attention, doesn’t allow for too much luxury. Imogen did have herself a rare luxury amongst them: a mirror in her private chambers, an object usually reserved for group areas. Mirrors are fragile and difficult to obtain, so far from bustling markets and the prying eyes of the commonfolk - it’s only because she’s a Temult that she’s been allowed one of her own.

Imogen’s attitude towards it shifted as she did - her purple sparks were beautiful - her itching skin that cracked apart with that same pulsing power was hideous - the hair that damns her, marks her as a Temult, makes her look so much like Liliana is horrific, and so is the mirror.

On this occasion, however, the mirror is a curiosity. Imogen rises for her morning tasks and nearly misses it - has no reason to linger on the mirror and so she doesn’t, until something catches the corner of her eye.

A portion of the mirror is much darker than any part of her own room is - it’s not a reflection at all, but a look at something.

At someone.

A woman sits curled up amongst some crates, using magic to propel a tiny husk of a rat (with a bird’s skull) along in front of her. She is speaking - or perhaps singing? - to herself, to the corpse, Imogen can’t hear. The scene is dark, and the woman and her magic are too, other than her deathly pale skin. “Hello?” Imogen asks aloud, stretching her hand towards the mirror before she can think of anything more logical to do.

The woman looks up, alarmed, and- the connection cuts out, leaving Imogen’s hand to touch its own reflection instead.

But Imogen Temult has more than one way to communicate. Who are you? She thinks, her eyes boring holes into the mirror, seeking the woman she’s sure she didn’t invent.

There is no response, and the only thoughts for Imogen to read are the buzzing drivel from the Ruby Vanguard.

The days pass like this, at first - a reflection of a woman she can’t reach in the mirror - a dead rat with a bird’s skull dancing in the reflection of a puddle - a song in a woman’s voice whose melody shakes her soul but whose words she can’t quite make out.

For the first time in many years, Imogen Temult feels excitement. She tells no one - she has always been told she’s been destined for important things and that others won’t understand, and she’s decided that “others” includes the Ruby Vanguard as well as the commonfolk. Liliana, well, Liliana just seems glad that Imogen returned back to the encampment, and largely leaves her alone to chase wisps of a woman who might not exist.

If it’s her psyche breaking, well, Imogen’s just glad it’s happening in a way that can make her happy.

For her part, the woman doesn’t seem surprised to see her after that first morning. Imogen doesn’t see her smile often, unless the rat is at the forefront of her attention, but her expression when she’s alone seems to always be calculating, judging. Imogen’s certain that the woman is sizing her up - which must mean their connection goes both ways.

The Ruby Vanguard does not have an extensive library, and what they have does not mention you. You are, after all, the opposite of what they strive for. Imogen devours every book, every manuscript, every scrap of information she can get her hands on (or her mind into), but nothing conclusively leads her towards what this connection might actually be.

It matters not; she knows she hasn’t reached a dead end, because she sees the woman more and more frequently, a ghost in her vision as your tether truly takes root. It’s so taut neither can move in a way that matters without the other feeling it, and Imogen, so used to tuning others out, is extremely aware of the other woman’s presence.

Where she showed to Laudna as a wall of red, red, red, Laudna’s presence in Imogen’s mind is much softer; she is a symphony without words, a gentle and soothing lullaby against the buzzing and droning that other people’s minds fill Imogen up with.

Imogen reaches her mind out to that music constantly, but has yet to receive any response.

Until, that is, Laudna softens. It isn’t intentional on the warlock’s nor her patron’s end; rather, the two are caught - literally - sleeping. It’s unclear to Laudna and to yourself, really, just how entwined Delilah’s consciousness is with hers - perhaps Delilah knew Imogen was coming and allowed her to see, or Laudna’s exhaustion became her patron’s and they were equally powerless in the face of this new bond.

Imogen began her day as had become customary to her - she reached her mind along the tether, aching to see the woman she’s decided means her destiny is taking hold - and, to her surprise, her whole world jolts into that cramped, dark storage space she’d seen that first day.

The woman is not alone.

It’s not the dead ratbird, who rests on her lap, clearly drifted from her grasp as she fell asleep. No - Imogen sees a shadow on the woman that she hasn’t been able to before.

The woman leans against a dark, wooden wall, and by all rights there shouldn’t be a shadow at all - it’s not bright enough where she is. Nonetheless, a much bigger woman is outlined behind her - Imogen can’t glean too much from only a silhouette, but as her eyes frantically take in the scene (already she feels her grasp on the tether slipping, already she knows she will be forced away) they can’t help but trail to where the shadow’s hands seem to rest - dark fingers compressing around the woman’s throat even as she begins to shake out of her slumber.

“Hello,” she rasps, meeting Imogen’s gaze with a crooked smile, seemingly amused at what she sees (Imogen can only imagine what face she must be making - any attempt to fix her expression proves futile, however: a messiah is not trained in how to school her expression) as she just tips into alertness. The storage space is already fading around Imogen, dark wood and crates giving way to sunlight streaming through a window, but Imogen can just make out the woman’s next words- “I think we’re each other’s fates.”

/ 

Things spiral from there, just as you hoped they would. Imogen has begun to realize that you have taken the thread of her fate in your hands and twisted it from her - you have wrenched what Liliana had created for her and twisted, twisted, twisted, reshaped it into something else.

It’s little things, adding up to make a clear picture in Imogen’s mind. A member of the Ruby Vanguard reaches out to stop her, thoughtlessly, forgetting those whom she touches burn - and when their hand reaches her shoulder they remember to flinch away but not before making the briefest of contact - it should have run them through, would have done so just a week before, but instead it’s the briefest zap. Imogen hears the sound, continues pushing through to her mother. It’s the buzzing of the thoughts of the Ruby Vanguard - she pushes them away, sometimes physically pushes them away, gives herself space; finds she can’t compel them anymore, her feelings to them merely a whispered suggestion now.

The Vanguard accept this with reverence; their messiah is settling in, affirming herself to their purpose. She isn’t the child they had grown to fear; no, she returns their love, look at how she’s begun to care for them.

Imogen thinks her spark has begun to dim, and she knows just who to blame.

 /

In the end, Imogen Temult and Laudna meet just the once. Imogen stands at the edge of her world, looking at the mountain that makes up her horizon, and she feels the approach of that symphony that’s been drowning out her powers since the other woman opened up to their connection.

She should be seething, she thinks. She should muster so much of the storm that the woman will fry where she stands. The world of the Ruby Vanguard should be marked by two graves struck by lightning; she, their messiah, should facilitate it.

Instead, she stands in the middle of the destruction she had wrought not too long ago, a circle of crisp, dead plants, in a field full of flowers blowing in a breeze, and she watches the approach of the woman whose shadow eclipses more of the world than it has any right to.

“It’s you,” Imogen can’t speak above a whisper, finds herself choked up by the woman’s presence - afraid of what it means. Imogen had spent years crippling anyone who approached, spent years crippled herself by their presence - this woman brings only music with her. There’s no headache on either side, no words to drown out.

“It is.” Laudna agrees. She isn’t afraid. She smiles at Imogen, and there are more teeth in that smile than Imogen has ever seen before. Laudna ghosts her hand over Imogen’s cheekbone; there is no electricity to stop her. Imogen has never had someone so close to her, and her breath catches.

Imogen wishes she could immolate her on the spot; she knows she could not draw the power to do so even if she wished to. Laudna’s eyes twinkle.

“Why did you do this?” Imogen asks even as she leans into the other woman’s touch. “Why are you interrupting my destiny?”

“Destiny?” She echoes, with a laugh. “Sweet girl, it was no more your destiny to bring about the apocalypse than it is mine to be the hero. People should be kinder than the gods that eat them. We are both vessels for people much worse than us. The difference,” she angles her face down towards Imogen’s, whispers has if telling her a secret, “is that I’ve come to the conclusion I can empty you of yours.”

Imogen tenses and reaches for Laudna’s chest, bunches the fabric of her dress in her fists, unsure what she even intends to do. Laudna’s hands close around her wrists. “Is that such a bad thing?” Laudna rasps, her whisper barely coming out around her broken vocal chords, head tilted toward Imogen but cocked on the angle that was the end of Matilda. “Why should the godeater’s outcomes for you be natural, and the path you forge on your own obscene?” Her grip tightens, and Imogen wills her power forward, taking the effort to muster up what was once unavoidable for her, sparks flying through her cracked skin into the other woman. Laudna continues speaking as if she doesn’t feel a thing, ranting at her patron, at Imogen’s, at you - “Do you intend to let them have every part of you, Imogen Temult? To take all that was good and all that was rotten and every ounce of potential in you and eat you up? To let them keep whispering to you that you’re right on the verge of realizing something, gaining something real and true, walking on a path that is not yours and that you did not choose, a baited fucking lure to a godsdamned noose-” she releases Imogen’s wrists, turns away from the woman, looks towards the heavens, screams to Delilah, to you, to Predathos, any who may hear - “doesn’t that make you ashamed? To scavenge off our lives, when they’re all we have?”

Her chest heaves with the effort of shouting, and she slowly turns towards Imogen, who had reached for her once more. Imogen’s fingers, still glowing with the pulsing power that marked her as a savior, lightly skim over the dead woman’s jaw. Imogen Temult, who had long since thought she would never be able to be close to another human being, leans into the woman whom she cannot shock, and before she can stop to think, she kisses her.

Laudna is not fast to react, but when she does, it is with need, with hunger that has defined her existence. She deepens the kiss, nibbles at Imogen’s bottom lip. They both feel a click, a sense of belonging that they’d wanted their whole lives, and then - it ends.

They stand together, Imogen’s head against Laudna’s still chest, taking in the flowers and the breeze, separate from either of their worlds, on the cusp of something new, until Imogen, a savior who knows she can no longer do any saving, a messiah who was not raised to know patience, has to ask: “Why are you here? Really, why are you here?”

Laudna doesn’t move, doesn’t turn her gaze to the other woman. “I’m going to kill your mother and burn this fucking cult to the ground.”

“Why?”

“Because the woman in my head wants to use their power to her own ends, and I cannot allow that. As long as they live, she will use me to reach for them, for the power they’ve amassed here, and it is my lot in my unlife to keep her with me and stop her from entering your world. I do what I must.” Laudna states it all, matter-of-fact, having thought about it for as long as she’s known they existed.

“If she… uses you to reach for it, how are you stopping her now?”

Laudna finally looks at Imogen, her mouth opening into a crooked smile made more crooked by the bend in her neck. “She thinks she’s all-powerful, but I absorb power for the both of us, not just for her. I am not her dog eating table scraps. I have my tricks, and when Delilah awakes again, I’ll simply tell her there was infighting in the cult, and Liliana Temult and their little moon beacon didn’t survive the fight.” There’s mirth dancing in her eyes.

Imogen absorbs this all, thinks of the broken people who come to her mother out of desperation, not out of desire for the red end. Knows that she no longer possesses the power to unleash the storm on the world even if she had ever wanted to - feels Laudna’s thoughts but cannot read them. “Will you - will you let them run, if they want to?”

“Oh, most of them will run, I expect. I won’t stop them. Unless you want me to?” For the first time, Imogen’s opinion seems to matter to her.

“No, I… no, let them go, if you can.”

Laudna nods, begins to walk towards the encampment, leaving Imogen behind in the ring of dead plants. “Wait!” Laudna stops, turns towards Imogen. “What will I do?”

A small, genuine smile from the dead woman. “Your path will be your own.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Laudna stills, looks towards the sky and squints before locking eyes with Imogen. “Sweet girl. There is a whole world. Pray that you don’t.” She turns, again, to walk towards the death and blood you have always intended for her, and then stops, and smiles again at Imogen. “May your peace find you on a lonely road, Imogen Temult.”

Laudna makes her way towards the encampment of the Ruby Vanguard. She does not turn back. Imogen looks toward the mountain - the edge of her world so long as she has lived, and she begins to walk.

[innielove]

i knew things were going way too smooth lately..