#livingprophecy

[tsareviich]

continued from [x] || @livingprophecy

          “𝐈  𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐌𝐘  presence  here  is  —  complicated,  to  say  the  least.”      nervous  fingers  smooth  out  the  front  of  the  blue  kefta,  and  while  far  less  conspicuous  than  that  of  the  true  shadow  summoner,  the  dark  embroidery  still  sets  yarik  apart  from  the  rest.  he  is  still  getting  used  to  a  human  body,  human  conversation;      the  prince  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  morozov  as  well,  WHICH  MADE  THEM  MORE  ALIKE  THAN  MOST  WOULD  THINK.  he  swallows  then,  glancing  down  at  his  feet.  saints,  this  was  not  a  conversation  he  wanted  to  have.      “were  it  not  for  the  political  state  of  your  country,  i  promise  i  would  stay  far  away.”      with  the  rising  cult  for  the  starless  saint,  another  shadow  summoner  could  send  ravka  into  another  civil  war,  and  yarik  wants  nothing  more  than  to  be  with  the  other  amplifiers  somewhere  far  away  from  here.  blinking,  he  realizes  his  crudeness,  internally  cursing  himself.      “your  highness.”      he  adds  hastily.

admittedly, after everything he had gone through, shadow summoners made him uneasy. vasily knows it's not yarik's fault, he's not the darkling, after all. but he did share his power. and if there's one thing that vasily doesn't trust anymore is the shadows. he shrugs, waving his hand at yarik's words. " nothing goes easy in ravka. complications are just... another tuesday. " vasily didn't even know half of it and yet it made him that much happier to not be king. " vasily, " he corrects, giving him a small smile, " just vasily is fine. " he feels the weight of his arm, it's metal digging into his skin. he tells people he doesn't even notice it by now, but he does. a constant reminder of what happened on nikolai's birthday. he hated it somedays. " you're quite welcome in the grand palace for as long as you need. i'm sure we could all learn a thing or two from you. "

[wehowl-archive]

@livingprophecy asked: “are you in the witness protection program, or what?” / okay but also . seleste @ rick thank

"WITNESS PROTECTION?" Rick repeats, eyebrows raising slightly in amusement. That's a first one, but he could kind of see how one could guess that. "No, I'm not. Good guess though." Not like one could really guess 'avoiding ex-coworkers from crazy-ass job in another world in the multiverse.' He'd be impressed if they did. "Just avoiding some AWKWARD social interactions. Can't blame a guy for wanting to avoid small talk, can ya?"

[lieu10ant-a]

                                      height  comparison @livingprophecy    sent :    height comparison for soap he's definitely 6' not 5'11 idk what ur talking about >:(

tiny sergeant vs built like a brick shit house lieutenant.... who will win ?

[faeties]

@livingprophecy​ - Sometimes the scars you can’t see are the ones that hurt the most.”  /  tifa @ cloud but also big sephiroth scar sob 

SILENCE hung the loudest around him after Tifa spoke those words to life. The memory of Sephiroth attacking The End, of his remnants trying to hurt his family still felt raw in his heart. The scarred over wound felt like it was bleeding, cut anew at her words. His hand gently touched his stomach, fingers curling against his skin, though he didn’t notice it. 

Cloud had overworked himself. It was far from an unusual occurrence. He and Tifa had mouths to feed after all. Marlene and Denzel couldn’t grow their own food. His delivery service was good at supplementing extra for the bar... But even then he still felt like it was enough. Nothing ever felt like enough to make up for his neglect.

Which lead to the inevitable process of him running far too many jobs than one man, even one man like him, could handle. Followed of course, by his nightly routine of training with First Sword. He had to train, he had to be ready so it didn’t matter how tired he was.

Until Tifa wandered in to find him panting for breath against the wall of his room. Making her worry was never on his to-do list, but he always seemed to manage it anyway. That made his insides twist far worse than any amount busy work ever could. His teeth grit as he sipped on water she had given him.

“I’m fine,” he lied, perhaps too easily. He could practically feel Aerith and Zack’s eyes on the back of his head. He sighed, amending, “Or I will be. Soon. Was just a rough day.”  

Or a rough life.

[sunnyvaler]

@livingprophecy,    newt    :    “i want you....here.... right now”

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍,  but  it’s  a  soft  kind  of  surprise.  like  he’s  been  waiting  for  this  for  an  eternity,  like  he’s  finally  getting  something  he  never  new  if  he’d  get  the  opportunity  to  see.  he’d  wanted  newt  for  a  while,  but  some  part  of  him  had  never  expected  it  to  really  happen.  some  part  of  him  had  been  sure  that  it  was  just  wishful  thinking,  that  there  would  never  be  a  right  time.  he’s  not  sure  that  this  is  necessarily  what  most  would  deem  the  right  time  nor  the  right  place,  but  the  truth  is  that  for  kurt  any  time  and  place  is  the  right  time  and  place,  as  proven  by  just  how  quickly  his  body  react  to  the  words,  just  how  quickly  a  tent  forms  in  his  shorts,  the  way  he  softly  grips  at  newts  shirt  to  pull  him  closer.  its  obvious  that  kurt  wants  it  just  as  much  as  newt  does,  even  if  there  is  the  slightest  disbelief  that  it’s  happening.        “please.”        it’s  all  he  can  think  to  get  out  at  first,  too  busy  thinking  about  whats  to  come  to  think  of  much  in  the  way  of  a  coherent  response.        “i  want  you.”

[seesgood]

it’s late, and her eyes are aching from how long she’s been staring at her screen. her body aches from how long she’s been sitting on this chair. but she can’t bring herself to stop. stopping means admitting defeat --- even if it is only for a few moments. the sun has long since set, the cup of coffee she made herself hours ago has long since gone cold, and everyone else has either settled down or gone to sleep. she’s so engrossed in her work that she doesn’t hear anyone coming into the room --- but whether that’s because she’s distracted or because for someone as large as he is, bucky moves like a cat. when his figure crosses her line of vision, she jumps,  ❝ jesus --- don’t do that. ❞  her gaze lifts to glare at him, and she blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the sudden ( or not so sudden ) darkness that she’s only just now noticing.  ❝ i thought you went to bed. or snuck out to go do...whatever super soldiery guys do. ❞          /          @livingprophecy​ ! 

[pistolslinger]

u don’t have to publish this if you don’t want to but back when i was active in the dctv fandom there was someone who’d rp w/entworth m/iller and wrote smut with someone who wrote the character went played, capt cold so . have more cursed celebrity rp knowledge i’m so sorry

what.

[kcrclrezni]

@livingprophecy​ said: “you look tired.” (from zoya)

He felt tired. As much he trusted Genya and David’s expertise with creating profoundly powerful concoctions, something didn’t set right with this one. Last thing he knew, Zoya had been hovering over his bed with the vial and then, one second later, she’s doing it again because it’s light out and the birds are chirping and it’s time to start another lovely day and pretend that everything’s peachy and a demon isn’t trying to vie for control inside of him. No, he felt dead tired. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he responds with an easy smile that only serves to accent the deep circles under his eyes. “Usually I’d say I was up thinking all night, but our friends back in Os Alta ensured that wasn’t to be.” He tugs at the chains and pouts as he waits for her to free him. “But you look as lovely as ever. Like you slept on a bed of roses... and avoided the thorns, of course.” 

[duskcrown]

kai and cade for height<3

SEND ME YOUR MUSE’S HEIGHT, AND I’LL COMPARE IT TO MY OWN’S!

kai  ( 6′3″ )  /  astraea  ( 5′10″ ) /  cade  ( 6′3″ )

[fateviled-a]

@livingprophecy​ said  —  nothing is worth betraying someone you love. / dani @ delphine hehehe fUCK YOU

      she  was  a  peculiar  thing,    the  girl  that  ambrose  had  chosen  as  his  best  friend.    too  ordinary  to  truly  be  a  threat,    but  resourceful  enough  to  cause  a  wide  array  of  inconveniences.    from  what  delphine  remembered,    IT  RAN  IN  THE  FAMILY.    it  became  a  justifiable  reason  to  get  her  out  of  the  way.    weeks  of  stringing  along  a  web  for  her  to  follow,    and  those  carefully  laid  clues  had  landed  the  searcher  here    —    a  disgusting  little  hovel  on  the  bad  side  of  town,    registered  with  an  alias  she  would  have  instantly  recognized.    delphine  hadn’t  bothered  to  check  for  threats  as  she  waited  for  the  girl  to  appear.    she  simply  sat  at  the  dining  table.    no  weapons,    nothing  but  a  single  file  in  her  possession.    she’d  discarded  it  on  the  other  side  of  the  table,    closest  to  the  door.    it  beckoned  to  be  opened,    to  be  torn  into  by  someone  who  craved  knowledge.    there  were  no  introductions  needed,    no  niceties.    both  knew  exactly  who  the  other  was,    and  delphine  let  that  weight  settle  between  them  as  she  spoke.    the  silence  lingered  after  delphine  made  the  offer,    the  act  of  betrayal  she  didn’t  bother  to  sugarcoat;    a  deal,    an  exchange  for  stopping  her  search.    and  the  nerve  the  girl  has,    it’s  amusing.    NOTHING.    delphine  can’t  help  the  chuckle  that  slips  out,    lips  curving  into  a  passive  smile  while  she  leans  back  in  her  chair.      “oh,    i  wouldn’t  be  so  sure  about  that.”      knowledge  is  something  they  have  in  common,    but  she  has  craved  it  far  longer  than  this  inconsequential  child.    so  she  nods,    the  gleam  in  her  eye  clear  for  the  other  to  see,    caring  little  for  hiding  her  motives  when  it  comes  to  such  a  minor  yet  prominent  piece  of  her  chess  board.

      all  that  the  woman  can  think  as  she  settles  on  the  two  most  likely  outcomes  of  this  conversation  is  just  how  funny  fate  is,    messing  even  with  the  best  laid  plans.    this  one  had  been  an  unexpected  addition  to  the  life  her  son  was  meant  to  lead,    but  a  useful  one  nonetheless.      A  COINCIDENCE,    AN  ACT  OF  OTHERWORLDLY  INTERVENTION.    delphine  had  stopped  believing  in  something  like  religion,    like  god,    very  early  on  in  her  life.    no,    she  knew  that  what  became  of  this  world  and  its  people  was  of  its  own  making.    but  looking  at  this  stranger  who  was  always  meant  to  remain  a  stranger,    she  can’t  help  but  think…  perhaps  there  is  something  looking  out  for  her.    it  was  looking  out  for  dani  as  well,    keeping  her  from  losing  her  life  in  a  pursuit  far  beyond  her  skill  level.    (  if  only  she  weren’t  ambrose’s  friend;    her  death  wouldn’t  have  some  significance  on  the  son  she  was  trying  to  bend  until  broken.  )    the  thought  brings  out  a  sigh,    disappointment  laced  through  it,    but  she  pushes  forward  on  her  pursuit.      “as  smart  as  you’ve  proven  to  be,    miss  moore,    i  know  you  ultimately  lack  vision.    so,    if  you  please.”      tone  bored,    one  hand  presses  against  the  wooden  surface,    the  other  sending  shadows  swirling  to  snap  the  door  shut  with  a  careless  flick  of  her  fingers.    she  beckons  the  girl  forward,    chin  tilting  towards  the  seat  in  front  of  the  file.      “this  encounter  can  end  well  for  the  both  of  us,    or  i  can  go  back  to  my  son  and  tell  him  about  the  tragedy  that  seems  to  have  befallen  his  dearest  friend.    that’ll  be  your  choice.”      she  knew  the  bluff  was  well  concealed.    there  was  no  way  for  anyone,    let  alone  dani,    to  know  just  how  much  depended  on  her  making  the  wrong  choice.    and  she  would  make  it.

[jasonbrenner]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐘  𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐓  𝐍𝐄𝐖  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐈𝐌,  not  really,  but  a  therapist  he  can  actually  tell  anything  to  is.  his  struggle  with  other  therapists  had  come  from  the  fact  that  he  always  had  to  hide  something,  that  he  could  never  be  entirely  honest.  his  powers  were  something  beyond  the  comprehension  of  most,  something  that  would  be  seen  as  horrific  to  normal  people.  while  jason  may  take  his  time  learning  to  open  up  to  people,  he  knows  that  miecz  said  that  this  therapist  would  be  good,  that  she’d  understand  everything,  that  he  could  tell  her  EVERYTHING.

@livingprophecy,    seleste    :    “It  doesn’t  have  anything  to  do  with  trust.  You  don’t  have  to  tell  me.  But  I’ll  listen,  if  you  do.”

it’s  an  offer  he  wants  to  accept,  but  he  wouldn’t  know  where  to  begin.  how  does  he  even  start  to  explain  what  he’s  been  through?  what  he  can  do?  hands  fiddle  in  his  lap,  tapping  away  at  his  thighs  in  an  attempt  to  process  his  thoughts.  so  much  could  be  said  from  looking  at  his  hands  alone  —  the  scars,  the  way  he’d  been  so  barely  burned  that  he  had  such  limited  dexterity,  the  nervous  trembling.  it’s  so  easy  to  learn  things  by  looking  at  a  person’s  hands.      “don’…  know  where  t’  start.”      because  so  much  had  happened  to  him,  his  entire  life  had  been  a  long  journey  full  of  pain  and  suffering.  while  it  makes  sense  to  start  with  the  lab,  jason  doesn’t  even  remember  the  early  days  of  that,  has  no  idea  how  it  all  really  started.

[trustbutvcrify]

three of my friends ( @livingprophecy is one of said friends ) sent me the same tiktok and that says something about me as a person

[beblade-a]

@livingprophecy​​    /   mal’s letters aka zee choose death 🥰

i'm sure by now you know that i was reassigned to a new unit. i would have told you myself that i was leaving, but you didn't look like you wanted to see me. i couldn't blame you. part of me thought i'd be back soon enough, and maybe by then you'd stop looking away when we were in the same room. that's looking less and less likely by the hour. they say this new position might be more permanent than anyone expected. you know how these leader types are, they can never make up their mind about anything. i probably shouldn't tell you that, though. the last thing i need is you reprimanding me in writing.

shit, sorry. getting off topic. the point of this is, i don't know when i'll see you again. maybe i should have talked to you before i left. said something. i know you wouldn't have listened, but it would have been better to get it off my chest then. except you're too stubborn for your own good, and i didn't want you to hate me for pushing you more than i did that night. i couldn't help you the way you wanted me to, and maybe that's on me for being too willing to see what you didn't want anyone else to. i'm never going to regret the choice i made then, you needed someone to tell you to stop. you deserved to be able to grieve. you still do. i'm just sorry it pulled us apart.

there's a lot i didn't say then that i guess i should say now, but the trip was long, and daylight is ending soon. i'll write again. you haven't gotten rid of me yet, nik. looking forward to hearing from you too, if you can find time in your busy schedule to pick up a pen for me. but i'll understand if the masses keep pulling you down with a hundred more complaints about needing softer blankets and more salt for their slop.

best regards, mal.

p.s. sorry, that last part was a joke. i think i'm getting worse at them.

/

it's safe to say most of us underestimated just how long we'd really be here. the most "permanent" has ever meant is a few weeks, at most. just enough time to prove we've got numbers on our side, just enough to spill a little blood on both sides.

that was grim, sorry. i don't want this letter to be about that. here i was, ready to talk about the beauty of the mountains and how the air tastes different here than it did there. sometimes i forget this all leads back to war anyways, but it's easier to let yourself get distracted by the small pleasures in like. the first rays of sunlight and how they cast shadows over giants, the way plants bloom here that are strangers to what other forests have held. i wonder if you'd let yourself see this place the way that i do, if you'd love to lose yourself in it the same way. i remember you once said you wanted to see the ocean, and how your eyes lit up when you described it. i hope it makes you feel the way being on mountain tops has made me feel: at peace and just a little more alive. i think you deserve that, after everything. i know you do.

maybe we can see it together sometime, if that's not asking for too much.

speak to you soon, mal.

/

a few weeks passed since i last wrote. sorry, i guess i got caught up in everything. you know how it is, the work of a tracker is never done, etc. etc. not that i mind the work, of course. i'll take the fresh air and clear skies over being stuck in a stuffy tent with a bunch of soldiers any day. i still don't envy your meetings and boring talks of treaties that never go anywhere, or the way they always seemed to cut our mornings short at the worst possible moments. it's a miracle dominik didn't resort to anything worse than glaring at me for making you late, i always thought he'd get me thrown into the brig just for being annoying in his presence.

i still think about him sometimes. more than sometimes. i heard he had family close to the capital? you'd know more about that, i suppose. it feels stupid, but i feel guilty that i didn't know him better. did he laugh at stupid jokes, did he turn his head up towards the sky when it rained, did he see an end to this war? it doesn't seem fair that you're the one who has to carry him. someone else should remember him. i pray you learn you don't have to shoulder this burden alone.

but that's not what i was writing to you about. or, rather, wanted to write to you about. are you even getting these? i hope you are, but i know how tricky sending mail is. it once took five months for one of alina's letters to get to me, you know, so it wouldn't surprise me if you never saw these.

i met some people. well, if you could even call them people. they're idiots, really, the both of them. added onto my unit just last week, though i don't think they know a thing about tracking. that's fine, though, they're good guys and it's easier not to fall into thought with their incessant babbling going on in the background. it's hard to get close to people in times like these, but they seem too harmless to keep away. hopefully they get to stick around for a while, but we can't be sure of anything, can we?

that's all i had to say, i suppose. i'll end it here before this gets any longer.

take care, mal.

/

i think about how we left things. should i have pushed more, come to see you when i knew time was running out for us? it didn't seem to be within my right. we always knew this would end somewhere, just ships that pass in the night, but the tide seemed to carry us further away than i’d anticipated. it’s hard to wrap my head around how awful it felt when they gave out my orders, the way it seemed time was hacking me to pieces when all i wanted desperately was to help you keep yourself together. but you wouldn’t even look at me in the days that led to that moment. it was like i stopped existing for you, and you couldn’t see me as i floated away.

this isn’t to say i blame you. i don’t. saints, i don’t think i could ever place the blame on you for anything. but we were friends, right? if nothing else, we were friends, and now it feels like we’re nothing. the memory of your hands on me is a ghost that lingers, the proof that it wasn’t all just a dream. it’d be easier if it was. then i wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering if you’re reading these. if you are, i’m sorry. i don’t blame you, i swear i don’t. grief is a monster that claws through all of us, and you lost the most important person that you had. if one day i got word that alina was gone from this world, i would destroy myself in that pain. but you had to watch him go, you have the memory of that now.

i’m sorry. if you get nothing else from this letter, just know that i’m sorry and i’m still here. if you need me, i’m still here, nik. i know it isn’t much, but it’s all i have to offer.

your friend, mal.

/

all of my writing seems to be reserved for you and alina. i don’t have anyone else, i guess, but that’s okay. they sent me out again, caryeva this time.  it’s only for a few weeks, but i don’t mind traveling to this one. alina’s here, said something about the cartographers trying to make sense of the caves. i don’t know how much sense they expect to make of her drawings, but, hey, she’s here. so that means that all of my writing is reserved for you, at least until i have to leave again.

i'm sorry about the last letter. i shouldn't have sent it. that's one i really hope you didn't get, but i guess you wouldn't know that if you aren't getting any of them. there's only so much i can keep bottled up, though, and it's not like i can tell anyone else about you. i've thought about telling alina, a few times, but then i look over at her and forget how to breathe and thinking about you gets a little harder to do. it's always been like that with her, though, but i can't put words to the feeling when she's the one i'm talking to. she's familiar, like you were for those few months. like you'd still be if one day we met back in the middle of this war.

princes go on to do princely things, and our story probably ended already, but i'm just unlucky enough to be stupidly optimistic. i see an end to this war, and i see you becoming a great leader,  and i see it all unfolding in front of my eyes. see? stupidly optimistic. it's alright, though. someone somewhere has to have hope. why not let it be me?

your stupid optimist, mal.

/

we left caryeva this morning. just me and the poor idiots who came here on their way to make the journey back to sikursk. i hugged alina so tight i think i would have broken bones if we'd held on any longer, but she didn't complain. just wiped the tears away and called me stupid, in that same tone she uses when she's not trying to make things sadder than they are. i missed her the moment my back was to her, my feet carrying me hundreds of miles away from her again. the ache never left me when i was with her, but she makes everything easier. now she's gone again, and i can't help but let the loneliness creep back in.

i'm an orphan, did i ever tell you that? it's hard to say, never comes out quite right. like saying "i have nobody who cares about me" or "everyone who should have loved me is dead." that's what people look at me like, at least. pity and sadness and the way the war keeps taking and will keep taking more. but that's not true. i have someone. her. we've always had each other.

i have alina, and i still feel alone.

you haven't responded, or you never got these letters, or you did and haven't even read them. i don't know which one makes this more painful. doubt muddies everything and the lack of answers rips away any security i had in what we had. but what did we have? a few nights of stupid choices, where i could have drowned my troubles away in anything but you chose me and that felt good enough to mean something? i said i wouldn't blame you and that's still true, i can't put this on your shoulders on top of everything else. mostly, i blame this war.

i've thought about not writing these anymore. they don't make me feel closer to you. they just make the distance seem longer. but i don't want to leave you alone. i'm sorry, i don't know what else to do.

i suppose i'll keep on holding hope for a little longer.

running out of things to put here, mal.

/

it's late, and the stars are shining high above, and i can't sleep. dubrov's snores could shake the mountains, but that's not why i'm awake. i stopped believing you're getting these, so i guess it doesn't matter if i say it now. i miss you. being with you was easy, which is why i know it was never real. what we had only ever existed in my head, and you forgot about me the moment i wasn't around anymore.

were we friends, nik? were we at least that?

i have to believe we were. because if we weren't, what does that leave me with?

i never thought i'd get to keep you but a part of me was looking for a happier ending, a more satisfying conclusion. you were the first thing i didn't want to run from, that i didn't even realize you were never there with me to begin with.

all i’ve said in these letters is sorry, but i can't apologize for this one.

mal.

/

it'll be a year tomorrow.

by the time you get this, if you get this, it'll be longer than that.

i can't help but think about you sitting in your tent, alone, shoving that grief down as the time ticks by. or do you drown your sorrows in someone else, the next petty face that catches your eye? is it wrong to say that? i don't know. and you're not reading these anyways.

that's not fair to you. i told myself i wasn't going to be angry writing this one, and saints know i still ache to think about you feeling any of that grief alone. but it's been a year, and it could be two years, and i know that this is it. you're never going to write back, and i suppose that's on me for expecting you to.

i'm sorry. i'm sorry that i'm mad and i'm sorry about dominik and i'm sorry i let you push me away when all i wanted was to be there. i can't go back and change that, i don't even know if i would want to. were you always so stubborn, or is that what you told yourself you had to be?

please let someone in, nik. even if it's not me.

mal.

/

i should stop writing these, but you know how it goes. one more letter turns into two, two turns into a chest full of them. there’s no telling if i'm sending these to the right place anymore, if you've moved on. they said they'd find their way to you anyways, but that's hard to put any amount of faith on. there's too many unanswered letters for me to make up my mind on what's happening to them.

i keep thinking that you might have found someone else and can't help being jealous despite knowing it's probably for the best. maybe we can both find something to keep us feeling a little more human, a little more whole.

if i kiss someone and all it does is remind me of you, does that still count as trying to forget you?

swallowing the idea that one day you might disappear from my memory is hard, though i shudder to think of the alternative. nobody tastes like you. the only person who's ever made me laugh like you did is alina, and even my love for her is different. it doesn’t burn like yours did. like it still does.

what i'm trying to say is: i don't think i can forget you if i tried, but saints i wish i could. and i hope it’s harder for you to forget about me than it is to ignore these letters.

everything i have left, mal.

/

this was supposed to be an apology for something, but the words won’t come out right. here it is, nik. by this point, i’ve spent more time being ignored by you then i ever got to have you. if you never get these letters, i hope you spend the rest of your days thinking i forgot about you. if you did, i hope you never read this one.

you said i could keep you as long as i wanted, and i wanted to believe that was true. so much that i put my heart in your hands. even though we never called it love. there was always a part of me that knew it was a mistake. i understood then that it was a lie, just like i know now that you're never going to write back. i gave you my heart. i gave you everything. i should have asked for it back when i tucked my things away that final night.

i said i wasn’t going to blame you, but then that just means we’re both liars.

you should have looked away that day our eyes first met. you should have told me to leave when all i wanted was to spend every waking moment right next to you. if you knew we didn’t even get a chance, that you were never going to keep me, you should have pushed me away before i felt your teeth sinking into my heart.

maybe we were both naive and stupid, but you always knew, didn’t you? i did too, but you can’t tell a lovestruck boy what he can and can’t do with his feelings. that’s what it is, isn’t it? i cared too much and you cared too little, or you just didn’t care about me more than you cared about letting me go.

war has never been kind but it feels less cruel than what you’ve done to me, and if i were to die tomorrow at least i wouldn’t have to think about you anymore.

saints, let your memory be purged from my body.

/

this isn't a letter. this is a eulogy. and an apology.

i don’t want to hate you, but hate pours out when i write these. there’s nothing healing about wanting to say my piece to you, and getting nothing back. like arguing with a wall. at least i’d know if a wall was there. so, this is the last one, nikolai. there’s nowhere else for me to put my feelings down for you, so i’ll bury them in this ink and move on.

if i loved you once, i can no longer separate that love from the pain your absence has caused. there is nothing more empty than being faced with your silence, no greater frustration than knowing you’re out there somewhere and we walk the same earth on startlingly different roads. you were never mine, and i was always yours. but you didn’t ask for my love, and i’m sorry i gave it so easily. a lesson for next time.

i hope you get to see the ocean, nik. i hope whatever doubt that lives in your heart can be replaced by something or someone else. if one day i hear that you’ve done great things with your life, i want to hear your name from the mouth of a stranger and think only fondly of our times together. you deserve all of the love a country can give for a great prince, and an even greater man. but more than that, you deserve to be happy.

maybe someday, when we’ve both found a place to put our love, we can meet again. maybe by then we’ll be ready to call each other friend.

i won’t hold my breath, but i choose to believe there’s a silver lining here somewhere.

goodbye, mal.

[dcvilmade]

@livingprophecy​ said:  “  you’re getting that look in your eyes like you’re about to ask me what’s wrong so i’m gonna save us both the awkwardness of finding an excuse to leave and just go now.  ” / from HOPE >:)

Elijah only raised an eyebrow as he looked at his niece. She clearly was not okay, as she wouldn’t have switched her humanity off if she was doing WELL. However, no humanity did not mean no feelings. Just the absence of feeling bad or sad or morals. Really, the humanity switch was a TEMPORARY solution, one that young vampires often relied on too much. ( after all, all old vampires have their humanity well intact and cannot turn it off. they just do what they want anyway. )

“Or we can just have a conversation, Hope.” Elijah said, his tone even. “But to ease any concerns you may have, I’m not going to drag you home and try to force you to turn your humanity on. That is highly unproductive.” All that would achieve is making her angry with him, and if he did manage to get her to switch it on before she was ready then the pain she would be forced to deal with all at once… ( he remembered when he had been hit with over a thousand years of memories all at once, reliving every pain and loss in an instant. he would never force her to go through anything similar. )

The best he could do is make sure she doesn’t do anything that she would regret when eventually she did get back in touch with her humanity. “How about we talk over milkshakes. You still like the peanut butter blast with whipped cream on the bottom, yes?”

[sunnyvaler]

@livingprophecy,    newt    :    ❛ i really want to kiss you right now. ❜

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊  𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒  𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄  𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒,  though  it’s  in  no  way  negative.  wide  eyes  look  almost  relieved,  overjoyed.  how  long  has  he  desperately  wanted  something  more  to  form  here?  waiting,  pleading  with  himself  to  just  hang  on  in  case  it  ruined  everything.  but  clearly  that’s  not  the  case,  clearly  newt  wants  this  just  as  much  as  he  does.  butterflies  flutter  in  his  stomach  and  kurt  finds  himself  entirely  speechless.  he  doesn’t  bother  thinking  of  a  reply,  wouldn’t  be  able  to  form  the  right  words.  instead  he  just  leans  in  and  closes  the  gap,  one  hand  gently  cupping  newt’s  cheek  as  he  kisses  him.  IT’S  EVERYTHING  HE  EVER  WANTED.  soft  and  cautious,  as  if  the  words  had  been  a  fluke,  as  if  he’d  regretted  it  as  soon  as  he  said  it.  just  to  be  safe,  just  in  case  he  changes  his  mind.  but  for  now,  in  this  moment,  all  is  good.

[seesgood]

give me the caroline/steve smooch we deserve the full grab and everything 🔪🔪🔪

❝ okay but just like , you know , look out for him , okay ? ❞ it's ridiculous , she thinks , that she should AT ALL BE WORRIED over someone who's over a hundred years older than her and who is , arguably , one of the most highly trained assassins the world has ever seen . but bucky has quickly gone from someone she's beyond intimidated of to something of an older brother figure . ❝ i told him the same thing about you , by the way . and i packed you guys snacks just in case it turns into a disaster --- which it will , because i'm pretty sure none of you have ever gone on a mission that didn't turn into a disaster . ❞ oh god , she's rambling . which isn't exactly new . whenever she's around steve , she tends to be a bit of a mess . and when she's worried , she tends to be a bit of a mess . so right she supposes she's just... a double mess . and she's just opening her mouth to apologize for it when suddenly his mouth is on hers .

hands slip into her hair , her head tilts back , she feels like her entire world tips as she parts her lips enough to meet his kiss . her entire system short-circuits and her thoughts snag somewhere between what and steve rogers is kissing her . and , because she's pretty sure she's about to die , or maybe she already did , she figures there's no harm in letting her arms lift to loop around his neck so she can kiss him back . a small eternity later , he pulls back and brings all the air in her lungs with him . and all she can do is stare up at him , trying to piece together what just happened . ❝ um --- i ,❞ her voice shakes . breath wavers . if this is what death feels like , she really hopes no one ever revives her . ❝ you just... i mean was that... ❞ her eyes squeeze shut for a second as her head shakes , trying to shake the thoughts out of her head . ❝ you kissed me. ❞