#love this poem I have cried to it before and will cry to it again

[musette22]

What if, one Avengers movie night at the tower, the team decides to watch Four Weddings and a Funeral because Steve and Bucky have never seen it, and apparently, that's shocking.

Steve has been kind of quiet all evening, not joining in with the usual banter or even munching on popcorn like the rest of them, just watching the screen silently and sitting very still.

Two weddings come and go, and then, it's time for the titular funeral.

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone," the pale Scottish man recites W.H. Auden's poem, visibly overcome with emotion as he remembers his deceased beloved.

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.

The poem's final words hang in the air for a moment, bleak and heavy with sadness, and then suddenly, Steve makes a sound. It's not intentional, he just can't seem to stop it. Like the wave that's been building inside of him, quietly but inexorably mounting higher and higher, finally crests. A sob escapes him, sounding like it's torn from his chest, harsh and incongruent in the heavy silence of the room - and then, he starts to cry uncontrollably.

All heads swivel in his direction, surprised at the sudden outburst, but it’s just Bucky who is up like a shot, immediately reaching out for Steve. Steve curls in on himself, trying to hide his face in his hands, his whole body shaking with heaving breaths and big, ugly sobs.

“Oh, Steve, Stevie, hey." Bucky's hands are on Steve's shoulders; soothing, anchoring. “It’s okay. You’re okay, hey, sshhh.”

The words don't seem to register, bouncing uselessly off the wall of sorrow surrounding Steve, so Bucky wraps his arms around Steve's shaking frame instead and pulls him in, close to his chest. Steve resists for half a second before he melts into it, hugging Bucky back tightly, desperately, clinging hard enough to crack a rib in someone not enhanced.

“You were d-dead,” Steve chokes out, in between sobs. “You were dead and I – I m-mourned you. Bucky, I couldn't... I w-wasn't - Buck- Bucky.”

The last iteration of his name resembles a wail more than a word, heartwrenching, cutting right through Bucky's bones.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, inadequately, miserably. “I’m so sorry.” He rubs Steve’s back, over and over, shivering when Steve buries his nose in the crook of his neck, like he wants to burrow under Bucky's skin. Bucky presses his cheek against Steve's hair, trying to give Steve the comfort he's finally admitting to needing. "I’m here now. We’re both here. I’m never leaving you again, Steve. Never again, I promise.”

This time, the words get through to Steve, but instead of calming him down, they just make him weep even harder. He cries and cries until finally, his entire, big body shudders in Bucky's arms and some of that awful tension finally drains from his shoulders.

When his grip on Bucky loosens a little, Bucky pulls back to look at him. Steve’s face is blotchy red and wet, but his eyes are like cut diamonds, deep blue and bright with tears and emotion. He is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful thing Bucky has ever seen. Slowly, Bucky lifts a hand to Steve’s face, gently brushing his bangs away from his forehead. Apart from the occasional aftershock, Steve stays still, arms still wrapped around Bucky’s waist, their faces only inches apart. Steve's face, usually so controlled, is now wide open, love and adoration and awe all right there on the surface, plain for anyone to see.

Steve looks at him like Bucky hung the moon, like he’s his North and South and East and West, and Bucky feels too small to warrant it all, small but solid like a gem, precious and cherished in the face of Steve’s devotion.

When Steve’s eyes flick down to his mouth and linger there, his gaze rapt, transfixed, Bucky's heart trips. They haven't -- not since Bucky came back to Steve, not in this century, and Bucky hadn't been sure he'd remembered right, but now... Bucky's lips part on a soft, stunned gasp, and then before he can so much as blink, Steve surges up and presses his own lips against Bucky's. Bucky gasps again, arms coming up to take Steve's face in his hands, cradling it tenderly in his palms, metal and flesh alike.

The kiss is as much a thrilling, breathtaking culmination of years of silent yearning as it is the easiest, most obvious thing in the world. It makes everything that's felt just slightly off-balance over the past seventy-odd years finally right itself, pieces falling into place, the red thread of fate untangling itself and smoothing out, stretching taught and vibrant between them.

They're not sure how long they stay there like that, wrapped up in each other, revelling in the feeling of finally being together, being whole again. But when they finally break apart, Steve's eyes are closed and his face serene, finally at peace. He hums softly when Bucky rests his forehead against Steve's and rubs them together, lightly, comforting. The room around them is silent, the TV turned off, everyone else gone.

There'll be curiosity later, gentle teasing and well-intentioned demands for explanations, and that's alright. But for now, it's just Bucky and Steve, and a love that burns as bright and all consuming as the sun, as endless as the moon and stars.

[babysun412]

Nct Drean Reaction: You surprise him after being long distance

Mark

Being so far apart from you has him thinking about you 24/7. He never shuts up about you to his members and constantly relates everything back to you. He writes songs about you, poems about you, he even writes letters he plans to give you when he sees you. Everytime you get off a call with each other he sits in silence for a moment and wishes you were there with him. Most of his saddest moments are the second you say goodbye on the phone.

So when he opens his bedroom door after a long day of practice and sees your bright smiley face. He can't help but tackle you in the biggest hug he can. You both land on top of his bed and his face is pressed in your neck as he says "No way" over and over again. He refuses to let go of you for the rest of the day.

"Holy shit, you're here. I love so much baby. Oh my god-"

Renjun

I honestly think he would cry. He would seem the least affected by being in a long distance relationship but it would secretly hit him the hardest. One of his favorite things is just to be with you. He tries to make the most out of the time you do get to see each other but in the end it always feels too short. The texts and calls keep him going throughout the day but he wants nothing more but to see your smile in person again.

You walk into the practice room after Jaemin picked you up and helped you surprise him. Renjun was the only one in the room and once he saw you through the mirror...he broke. His mouth was wide open in disbelief as he went straight into your arms. You couldn't help but coo as he cried gently into your shoulder, whispering how much he missed you. You would try to calm him down but he was ready to find a way to keep you by his side for good.

"I missed you... please stay."

Jeno

Jeno is %100 the member who would call and text you the most. He'll call to ask simple questions like what to grab at the grocery store or he'll even call when he's gaming just to hear your nagging. He gets so sad when you don't answer even though he knows it's probably for a good reason. He just wants to share his thoughts with the only person he always wants to hear them.

He got sad when you didn't answer his call. Like where tf are you? This is your regularly scheduled Jeno time. He'd be speechless when he sees you making dinner in the kitchen. You'd so causal about saying hello before laughing at his frozen state. You would giggle as he runs towards you and picks you up in a hug. But before you can say anything he would pull you into the most passionate kiss of your life.

"Jeno-"

"Shh, I wanna kiss my baby."

Haechan (Donghyuck)

Donghyuck just loves affection so it would be hard for him to do long distance. You would both call and text each other a lot but some days it's just not enough for him. He would beat himself up for being sad that you aren't there because he knows it's not your fault. But sometimes he just feels so helpless on how to feel better. He just misses you so much.

For the first time ever, he doesn't say a word when he sees you in the dressing room after his concert. Your smile would begin to fade when he doesn't say anything but as soon as you get closer he pulls you as close as you can get to each other. His face would bury itself in your neck as he would breathe in the scent he missed so much. He would not let you out of his arms for the longest time and you would both stand in the middle of the dressing room hugging despite the other people around.

"Please just hug me and pet my hair."

Jaemin

Jaemin tries to be as present in your life as possible when you are apart. He memories your daily schedules and is always reminding you to eat and get enough sleep. Taking care of you is something that takes his mind off the distance between you. He wants you to know that he's doing well too so that you can have no worries when you finally see each other again. Unfortunately, that's not how everything works sometimes.

You had come to surprise him at his dorm and he almost screams in joy after he walks through the door. He would run to you with a smile and hug you as tight as he can. But what he doesn't expect is for you to start crying into his chest. You felt like in order to keep him happy that you needed to pretend to be happy too. You felt like you needed to hide how much you missed him but you can't anymore. Jaemin would feel awful seeing you cry and his top priority would be to make you happy again.

"Baby, we can do so much while you're here! We can go on dates and hold hands and kiss and have s-"

"JAEMIN!" *Smack*

"I was gonna say sleepovers! But I mean~"

"Na Jaemin."

Chenle

Chenle understands that you have your own life and schedules but he would struggle with the fact you can't just maneuver them around whenever you want. Why can't you just take your lunch break when he gets a chance to grab his own food? Why can't you just skip class when he finally has a break in his schedule to call you? He's not mad about it or anything but he just gets worried if you both aren't able to find time for each other then your relationship might fall apart. It would mean everything to Chenle when you come to surprise him.

His mom was actually the one who suggested for you to come surprise Chenle. He was finally going to be visiting his home and his mom talked about how much he's been talking about you. So when Chenle sees you standing in his bedroom in his house in his home country...he realizes you're the one. Neither of you had said I love you yet and the second he sees you it's the only thing he's able to say.

"SURPRISE!"

"..."

"Lele?"

"I love you."

Jisung

Jisung would be another one who doesn't show how much the distance affects him. He thinks about you a lot more than you know. He's always wondering what you are doing or when he sees something funny he instantly sends it to you because he knows it'll make you laugh. Jisung would like to have that close, cute and cheesy relationship with you but he respects the reasons on why you're both apart. He doesn't want to seem selfish by complaining about the distance.

When he enters the dark room, he thinks that his hyungs are doing the obvious birthday cake surprise. What he doesn't expect is for his hyungs to scream happy birthday and show you standing behind them. His mouth would drop open and he'd look around like he's questioning if this is real. Once you go to hug him, he would press your foreheads together and nuzzle the tip of your nose with his. The closeness he's been craving for finally being fulfilled.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

"You're finally here."

[seaswallovvme]

I see you wanted some request... May i suggest Baldwin laying his head on reader's lap and sharing a romantic moment? Maybe reader reading some poetry for Balwin and some soft kissses in his gloved hand. Just if you want, of course.

Have a nice day ♡

Shallows

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Shallows” by Daughter just in case you wanna listen to it! Also the poem is a shortened version of “Anim Zemirot” which is a Jewish liturgical poem. I thought it fit nicely cause often the love we share with others brings us closer to God and sometimes God reflects in other people to bring out the best in us🤍

The stifling Jerusalem heat was something she would surely never get used to.

She was born in a place far from the holy land, raised in a land that was so far she doubted she’d ever see it again.

A land where snow would fall and cover the mountains and endless meadows in a thick coating of white.

Sometimes she missed her home which now seemed impossibly far away, and everything in her new home couldn’t have been more different.

The first few months she had cried a lot, she had been homesick to a point where she could hardly eat, unsure about her fate of being the new queen of the kingdom of heaven.

It was such a heavy weight that lasted upon her shoulders at such a young age.

It was burden that threatened to crush her whenever she would wake in the mornings and yet, when she thought the sun would never rise for her again, a single ray of light made its way into her heart.

Her husband had always been so gentle and patient with her, coaxing her out of her shell when she shut herself away, bringing a small tray of her favourite cakes and spiced tea into her room.

He was so gentle, so kind and fair and so different from what her mother had told her about the ways of men.

He was exactly what a king should be and there had been so many before him, older and more experienced too but their glory faded in comparison to Baldwin.

She had never minded that he was sick, a part of her hoping he would leave her alone to lament his fate and yet she found herself to be pleasantly surprised when he didn’t.

It had taken time for her to get used to his presence and the duties that came with being a queen but she would have been a fool to keep him on a distance forever.

She simply couldn’t.

Not when he would sit by the side of her bed when she refused to leave her chambers for the first week, not when he would never raise his voice or have any demands other than to at least try to give this new life a chance.

A hour of him sitting on the edge of her bed had soon turned into more.

Spending the evenings playing chess or visiting the gardens at sundown, talking of books from lands far away, myths and stories or battles that had been fought long ago.

She simply couldn’t keep this gentle and soft-spoken young man at arms length.

One night however he didn’t come to her chambers.

She waited for the sun to set but even then, no trace of him.

Perhaps he had grown tired of her stubbornness.

Perhaps he had grown tired of her self pity?

And how could he not?

His fate was much more agonising than hers, his existence was a matter of life and death every day, only alive and breathing by the grace of god.

She felt like a fool to cause such an ordeal in front of the man who suffered each day, bearing his cross yet being so kind to her.

She was tossing at turning in her bed.

It was hot and the silken sheets that wrapped around her body so softly even felt too heavy at this point, too hot, too tight.

It was no use crying now, she decided chewing on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully while slowly climbing out of her bed.

The marble floor was pleasantly cold underneath her bare feet as she slipped through the darkened hallways of the palace, quiet as a cat, a burning candle in one hand a book in the other.

She knew the way to Baldwins chambers.

He had shown her on the first day she arrived, explaining she would be welcome at any time of day or night no matter the reasoning.

And this reasoning was very important, she was sure.

She would head inside and apologise.

She would apologise and ask if she could read to him the way he had read to her so often.

She would say how sorry she was for being so ignorant and selfish, how she was sure she would do her very best from now on to be a proper queen and wife.

However as soon as she knocked softly and slipped past the guards with an apologetic smile the words died in her throat.

His chambers were dimly lit by candles, a faint trace of sandal wood lingering in the air.

Here it was cooler than elsewhere in the palace, to help his weary lungs breathe.

He was laying in bed, on his back.

His hands were freshly bandaged, his face too now that he was not wearing a mask and she could smell the herbal ointments.

Quietly she stepped closer but still he noticed her, raising his head as his eyes widened and she was sure had never seen a man this worried in her life.

“I am so truly sorry I was not able to visit you my beautiful darling”

When he spoke she had to step even closer to hear his voice, so soft and quiet that it easily could have passed as a hushed wind.

“I have developed a fever, nothing grave yet my physicians refuse to let me leave my chambers” he explained, a sorrowful look on his face.

“I had sent for a servant to inform you about the situation..did no one tell you at all?”

In that moment all of her hesitance, fear and standoffish thoughts melted away and instead her heart soared with an unfamiliar feeling.

It had first started faintly in her stomach when he would offer her his arm in the gardens a while ago but this was a much more intense feeling.

So intense it almost hurt yet in such a strangely beautiful way and she could feel the tears stinging in her eyes.

“Please do not apologise..it is I who should tell you how sorry I am” her voice was a mere whisper, strained and she licked her lips to wet them before slowly climbing into his bed, so careful not to hurt him.

She looked up, facing the guards by the door.

“Please leave us”

She rarely ever addressed them but now she did, her timid voice so loud against the quiet of his chambers that it nearly startled her.

Baldwin seemed curious by the way she was behaving and even more so when she spoke again as soon as the guards had left and closed the heavy door behind them.

“I want to apologise” she started quietly but her voice got more sure the more she spoke.

“I want to apologise for having been so difficult when I know you are feeling much worse than I. I have never wanted to be a burden to you or make your days more difficult than they are already”

When she had first started talking she avoided his gaze but now she looked at him, truly, for the first time ever and despite the fact she could only see his eyes she knew underneath the bandages he was smiling.

“An angel sent from heaven could never be a burden to me” he whispered back, reaching out to place his bandages hand on hers so very softly.

Her vision became blurry with tears and yet she smiled, gently squeezing his hand back and oh how she thanked the almighty to have given her a husband as gentle and righteous as hers.

She slipped underneath the covers, nuzzling into him hoping he could forgive her but the way he held her close made her feel like there was nothing to forgive at all.

After a short while they had settled in comfortably and now it was her turn to return all the affection, love and care he had showered her with in the last few weeks.

His head was heavy, resting in her lap and his eyes were shut as she gently traced her fingers over his bandages face, every now and then raising his hand to her lips to kiss it.

A fever was always worse at night but she hoped her presence would bring him at least a small sense of comfort, even if it was the least she could do.

Her plan however seemed to work just fine, his breathing slower, less laboured and his limbs had relaxed, his free arm wrapped around her as if he were scared she would leave.

She wouldn’t, never again.

“Would you like me to read to you? I finished one of the books you gifted me and when I read one poem I was reminded of you” she admitted, somewhat glad the dimly lit room disguised the flushing cheeks that came with how she hated herself emotionally.

She wasn’t worried he would make fun of her though, he never had made her feel uncomfortable and now it was on her to make him feel just as safe.

His response was a faint nod and a whisper, his blue eyes opening and he looked at her with so much adoration that she could feel her heart ache once more

“Yes please..”

She was eager to comply, not wasting a second she straightened up a little, opening the book she had brought, flipping through the pages until she found what she had been looking for.

With care she tilted the book in a way for the torches on the walls to hit the paper in a way that would make it possible for her to read.

When she did, her voice was quiet and she made no pause, only rubbing his hand through the bandages.

The way he squeezed her hand back made her stomach flutter, sure that he could feel her touch.

“Melodies I weave, songs I sweetly sing;
longing for Your Presence, to You I yearn to cling.

In Your shelter would my soul delight to dwell,
to grasp Your mystery, captured by Your spell.

Thus I glorify You in speech as in song,
declaring with my love: to You do I belong.

The scope of your greatness and he marvel of Your strength
are reflected in Your actions all described at length.

Youth and force in battle, old age on judgment day;
like a seasoned warrior, with strength He clears the way.

He wears triumph as a helmet on His head,
His power and holiness have stood Him in good stead.

May my prayer rise to the Creator of the miracle of birth,
Master of beginnings whose might and justice fill the earth.

May You find sweet and pleasing my prayer and my songs;
my soul goes out in yearning, for You alone it longs.”

Silence stretched out near torturously when she had finished reading and neither of them said a word.

She felt embarrassed all of the sudden, awkward having read a poem filled with devotion and yearning such as this, both for him and for God but when she looked down into his face all of those feelings faded.

His eyes were open, glossy with adoration and a sheer layer of tears and she could have sworn she had never seen a sight this beautiful.

No matter the illness, no matter the bandages and physical fragility that seemed to drain him, none of that could take his beauty away.

His voice broke when he spoke and she was so taken aback it took her a moment to recognise his words were a quote from the poem she had read

“..declaring with my love: to You do I belong..this poem is about the Lord is it not?”

She smiled faintly, shutting the book as she placed it down on the small table next to the bed.

“It is..it reminded me of you. Of how brave and good you are and I cannot help but feel as if the Lord wanted us to cross paths. Your love turns me into a better person Baldwin. When I am with you I feel as close to him as I have ever felt before”

His hand squeezed hers just a little tighter and he took a deep breath before he continued

“Sometimes I cannot comprehend the Heavenly Father and his mysterious ways. I used to think my illness was a way for him to punish me, scorn me for my sins but how could I ever doubt his justness, his everlasting grace and love when he granted me the time I get to spend with you?”

[alpydk]

Gone with the Weave

Took a few days off to think. Seriously considered deleting everything, Tumblr, all of it. Realised I'd become a little lost in my writing, getting jealous over other people, insecure about my own abilities, forgot who I was writing for and why. So today I sat down and actually wrote for me again and you know what? It's helped. And because I'm hypocritical I'm going to share it with all of you.

So, here we have post-Epilogue short. Hurt/Little comfort. Gale/Tav - Tav & Astarion - Word count : 2398 -

CW - PPD / Grief / Death / Dad!Gale / Scenes of child death (Hallucinations)

It was like tar. It pulled her down and filled her lungs, thick and black. Tav tried to fight against it, tried to find the light that she knew shone above it, but her limbs were weighted down by fatigue and longing. A part of her wanted to be dragged down by it, to be lost to the depths of her depression, to disappear and no longer have the responsibility that had been thrusted upon her. To sleep and never wake; to be with him.

To everyone around her, she was a natural mother, tending to her baby’s needs, a confident smile at the life she had brought into the world. Tav was proud, strong, had been through the hells and back, figuratively and literally, and survived unscathed. But as with most, her pride was becoming her downfall. She didn’t need help, didn’t want it because weakness was not the sign of a good mother. As the days passed, as sleep turned to hallucination, still she clung onto the mask of what they all wanted to see, the last remnant of a life before life.

The child cried, but she did not react instantly, a quiet hope that someone else would come and tend to its needs whilst she pretended to sleep. But she didn’t sleep. For so long, the gods of dream and nightmare alike had ignored her pleas, and she had lain there awake, watching as the infant took all from her, leaving her with nothing but guilt and misery.

She wished he was there to help her, that his weave touched fingers that brought calm to her soul could calm the one that lay in the crib. He should have been there for this, she told herself, his strong forearms cradling the baby, a soft poem uttered under starlight bringing it to soothe. If only she had known before the final decision was made; if only things had ended differently and he had stayed, then maybe there would be fewer tears shed.

Still it cried, and no one came, the silence broken by the shrieks she had come to despise. It would be so easy to just leave, to walk out and never return, but then they would all know what she was truly like. The tar that had filled her lungs and surrounded her heart, leaving her bitter and tainted, would be exposed and they would know the truth. They would hate her as she hated the innocent child in front of her. But what if…? The thought was fleeting, cruel and unspeakable, a horror even in her own twisted mind. As night turned to the day, as cries turned to coos, she watched the baby, always watching and waiting for something to change.

---

Evening had set in and though the stars shone brightly as he had promised her, the night brought Tav little comfort knowing the long, drawn-out hours that were to come. She carried the baby to the small tub, her body weary and mind wandering, and she placed it in the water, watching as the bubbles rose quickly from its soft lips, as the arms tensed and held out towards her, as the deep brown eyes she had once loved lost their light again.

A knock at the door brought her around to her senses as she sat in front of the empty tub, the baby cooing peacefully from its bassinet. This had not been the first time she had seen such sights in the weeks since the birth. At first, it had been minor things, a shadow in the room that she had mistaken for a friend, the child crying whilst it actually slept. Soon the images became darker, the newborn lifeless in her arms when she awoke suddenly during the night, a slight misstep causing her to drop it to the floor, its body like that of a rag doll as it hit the wooden floorboards. Nothing scared her more though than herself, her lack of reaction, the quiet pleasure she saw in the freedom being granted to her. Would murder or suicide be the more publicly acceptable option? Would they forgive her? Could he forgive her, should she make that choice?

Tav rose from the floor, the image shaken away, and the mask put back in place. A deep breath was released before the door was answered with a smile and the face of Astarion greeted her. She was thankful it was him and not one of the more caring of the group; it would mean fewer questions asked, less concern over her wellbeing, and a chance that the walls would remain intact for another night.

He entered without invitation, many nights like this in the last six months that had thankfully grown less frequent since the birth. “You look like shit, darling.”

She smirked at his words, fully aware that the lack of sunlight was making her as pale as him, that the deep bags hung under her eyes. “Well, we can’t all match up to you, can we?”

Astarion made himself at home. Wine was grabbed from the cupboard and his feet put up on the coffee table. He noticed the baby but chose to ignore it, instead watching as Tav quickly sorted her hair in an attempt to look less haggard. “Resident do-gooder Wyll has asked me to come and check in on you.”

“And since when do you take orders from others?” She sat near him on the sofa, the faint stirring of the child drawing her attention. All she wanted was a moment like the old times, of two friends chatting about something that wasn’t related to birth or parenting, of wine and shameless flirting that meant nothing.

He watched her, her eyes allowing him to see the cracks that lay so visibly. “Since, 1 – it’s my turn, and 2 – it’s been a year.”

Tav scoffed. “Taking turns? Is that what you all do?” She ignored his second remark, a year since the Netherbrain, since that day when everything was supposed to change for the better.

“Quite frankly, yes. It’s one thing to be holed up alone with seven thousand spawn, it’s another to be holed up alone with that…” Astarion gestured his hand dismissively to the infant.

She knew he was right, life would be better without it, she wouldn’t be alone here, needing to be checked up on as if she there were something wrong with her. “You know you don’t have to. We’re fine.” The lie slipped out as easily as it ever did, the painted-on smile meeting her dead eyes. The small cry made her bristle, made the lie falter, and she hoped it was nothing but that one whimper.

He sipped his wine, the quickening of her heart rate deceptive as it cut through the heavy silence. “Still, we should at least share in a drink, shouldn’t we? A remembrance of sorts.”

“No, that’s not needed.” Tav was quick to cut off this suggestion. It was one thing for the wall to crumble in front of him that she was tired of sleepless nights, another for the actual truth to be pushed upon her and the dam to break.

The cry could be heard again, now with little pause between breaths. She wanted to ignore it, wanted it to die down, wanted anyone else to deal with it. But no one else would come. He would not come. She could see Astarion tensing with the building noise, and she had to react to save face. She stood, approaching the bassinet, a brief flash of annoyance in her eyes as she glanced down and picked up the baby. It was as if it knew, was manipulating her and drawing her towards ruin, as if the gods were not satisfied enough with the sacrifices she had already made.

“Aww, you just want to see uncle Astarion, don’t you?” This was what people wanted, fawning over the infant, exaggerated displays of affection that she loathed to give. She carried the baby over, its cries stopping, and she gritted her teeth, knowing the moment she put it down, the noise would commence again.

“Oh, no, darling. It’s quite alright.” He pulled his legs off the table, a clear discomfort, and with it knocked over the bottle of wine.

The scarlet liquid spread across the wood, dripping quickly onto the floor, a lazy flow as it crept between the floorboards. Tav couldn’t take her eyes from it, the baby lying amongst it, the rag doll limbs amongst its own blood, lifeless brown eyes that stared back at her. Her heart didn’t beat, she stood not in panic, only a numbness lay in her mind at the sight.

Astarion grabbed a cloth and began to clear the wine, Tav seemingly frozen with the child in her arms, her mind a million realms away, a feeling he knew too well himself. “You know, they say white wine can clear out red…”

Her heart took a beat, a recollection of where she was, of the company present, and she hoped the vision she had seen had been instantaneous so as not to draw attention. The baby was thankfully silent, and she cursed herself for not feeling upset at the sights she was seeing. Murder or suicide…It would be so easy.

She sat with the baby in her arms, Astarion cupping the glass of wine as he leaned away from her on the sofa. She could see how uncomfortable he was becoming, as if looking for a conversation that was casual enough to fulfil his objective for checking in on her.

“So, Gale-“

“Is gone.” She interrupted him off before he could even start. This was not the topic she needed. He should be there with her, holding her through sleepless nights, soothing their child as it cried through the darkened hours. He should be sharing in her tears, her smiles, consoling her as she struggled with her doubts. The baby began to stir again, as if picking up on her emotions.

“Tav, it’s been a year and you’ve not spoken with anyone about what happened.”

She ignored him, his voice and the quiet cries already beginning to overwhelm her senses. There was nothing to talk about; there was only this lonely guilt filled existence. Days and nights of tar, of emptiness, of decisions she couldn’t bring herself to make. Hoping her mask wouldn’t slip, she rocked the baby in an attempt to calm it. She was a proud, strong mother. She was a good mother.

He sighed, not knowing if he should bother to help or not, but after all Tav had done for him in the past, he knew he had to do something. “Pass it here.”

She lifted her head, a defensive hold on the baby in her arms. Was it maternal love or the pride that prevented her from handing it over so freely? “No, I can handle this.”

Astarion reached over tentatively. The baby smelt odd, like spices he could not pinpoint, and his stomach turned slightly, but he would not accept what she was saying. He gently took it into his arms, Tav’s resistance minimal, as if her body was mutinying against her mind. The child grew quiet again, a small coo as its hand reached for his shirt and small pink fingers hooked around the cotton.  

Tears built up instantly in Tav’s eyes, a guilt that she hadn’t been good enough to do this one simple thing, that she had failed in being a mother. She wanted to hide it all, wanted to run away, but she also wanted to fall apart so that people knew how deep she had fallen into the darkness and could come and save her, save her just as he had done so long ago. She wiped at her eyes, but it made little difference, the sight of her friend holding her baby, a light in his own eyes she had never seen before, a moment of innocence on the face of a seasoned killer. Why could she not feel that way? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she love…?

Her words were quiet. Astarion wouldn't care, and she knew it wouldn’t faze him. He wouldn’t coddle her like the others would. He was what she needed now that all was lost. “I can’t handle this…”

---

The night passed in a blur. He listened as she spoke of all that had happened in the last few months, of the things she had seen, things she believed she wanted, of pride and guilt that filled her heart to bursting. She spoke of the loneliness that consumed her and the child she could not connect to, of how it reminded her of the past she wished to forget, a past she longed for desperately. One life had ended, and another had begun and all she had been left with was shadows.

The baby slept through for the first time in months, Astarion having settled it in its crib as she had managed an hour of sleep. She’d waited ages in silence, listening for the sudden interruption that never came. It was as if it knew of her confession, and she hated and loved it for what it had done.

In the early hours her friend left, the rising sun announcing his need to depart, and with it she saw the light between the grey clouds, a new day ready to start again. The child stirred, and she stepped towards the crib with hesitation. She saw the purple robes that had been draped lightly at the base where it slept, the subtle scent of the library lying amongst spices bringing calm to the bedroom, and she heard the sound of the waves on docks, brushed up with the morning gale. Picking up her baby gathered with the robes, she held them both closely, the tears building, the relief, the love for her child breaking through the walls she had built.

The guilt flowed, but it was not met with a resignation; it was met with the promise to do better, to be the mother she should’ve been, to be the woman he had once loved. The child gazed at her, bright eyed, and she saw Gale once again; for a brief moment he was with her. She was not alone. She would never be alone.

[atrueneutral]

Raphael returning to the House of Hope as a blushy mess after an encounter with his little mouse and Haarlep needling him about it to try to get a reaction. Maybe the incubus' initial attempts don't get much reaction beyond Raphael telling them to be quiet and so Haarlep suggests that maybe they should have their way with the moral to see what all the fuss is about, and that causes Raphael's composure to break for a moment as he snarls a 'Don't you dare' or something. Then Haarlep could just needle him further, commenting on and questioning the cambion's strong reaction.

From where they were provocatively positioned in bed, Haarlep’s tail flicked with interest at the sight of their ‘human’ master striding into the boudoir blustering and…

“Are you blushing?” they asked with a mixture of shock and glee.

Oh, what a wonderful development!

And an embarrassing sight - to see the proud, ambitious brat reduced to flushing in reaction to a mortal!

A particular mortal, at that…

The scorching scowl Raphael threw their way did not have the desired effect, and Haarlep watched with irksome delight writ on their face as their master went to his portrait.

Once his diary was in hand, Raphael stormed over to the balcony, sat down at a waiting chair (just out of sight), and summoned a magical quill with a snap.

He then began to write, his strokes furious and sharp.

“Straight to love poems?” Haarlep inquired. “Or is it… more lurid than that? Are you writing out that which you have yet to experience - but so desperately wish to?”

They could hear the quill pause…

And resume.

Haarlep grinned.

“Understandable; I’ve visualized it myself!” Haarlep rolled onto their back and tucked a hand behind their head - they could feel their cock twitch as a scene began to play out in their head. “Her naked body writhing under mine as I claimed ownership of her wet, tight hole. I’d fuck her until she was a babbling mess who only knew how to speak two things: invoke my name and beg for release!”

The quill had again stopped, and Haarlep could sense hellish fury radiating from the balcony.

“‘Haarlep! Please!’ she’d cry!” They closed their eyes and moaned deliciously as they gripped their hardness through the material of their scant apparel. “Oh, and I would answer her delirious cries - fuck her until I could feel her cunt flutter around my cock-”

They could hear what were now jingling bootsteps on marble.

“I’d swallow her ecstasy, capture her moans with my mouth to then empty my se–”

Suddenly, Raphael was on top of them with a hand squeezing their throat, pushing them into the silk sheets and soft mattress. Haarlep opened their eyes to stare into a murderous fire.

“Don’t you dare.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Haarlep dared to ask. While it was not rare to see bouts of violent anger from their master, it was rare to have such violent anger directed at them to this degree.

They did awfully enjoy getting under his skin…

And under his skin they were; clawed fingers tightened cruelly - constricting air.

There was no lasting harm in this; Haarlep knew Raphael wouldn’t kill them, and they could find fun in breath play…

“Because she’s not yours,” their brat growled.

Dizziness was setting in…

“Is she yours?” they managed to retort.

“Yes.”

They glanced down to see Raphael was aroused. By what, Haarlep would guess their brat had been writing lurid tales involving his ‘ownership’ of the mortal who lately captured his thoughts and attention.

His erection noticed, their master sneered and let them go.

Haarlep took a few gasping breaths before asking their next question.

“Does she know who she belongs to?”

“She will,” Raphael replied, leaving the bed. “You are to suck me off as I finish my writing, and you will do so without making a sound…”

Haarlep heaved a sigh and crawled off the bed to follow their brat to the balcony.

If they were lucky, maybe the mortal would somehow find her way to the House…

A fantasy for another time.

[verse-under-the-cowl]

“Yeah, I’ve tried crack, but have you ever heard of the doomed siblings trope?”: A poem in which Dick stumbles upon Jason after the events of Under the Red Hood and is horrified by what he sees.

OOC: Not a Jaydick poem! Please never twist it to seem as such.

“ Gone like before . ”

In midnight deep , withdrawn from light , Where Gotham’s secrets brew and fight , I found him there , my heart aghast — A ghost , a boy , a haunting past . No warmth flickering in those glowing eyes , No trace of love , no soft goodbyes .

The mask he wore , so stern , so red , A symbol wrought from years of dread . Once, he was mine — my brother dear , A child of light , devoid of fear . But now he stood , with vengeance sworn , A soul reborn from pain and scorn .

“ Jason ? ” I whispered , voice a plea , But he turned away , no face to see . The boy who laughed beneath the moon , The knave with magic , gone too soon — Now lost to shadows , draped in wrath , A warrior stranded on a bloody path .

The laughter gone , replaced by cries , And in his voice — no smugness or sly . The boy who wore my Robin mantle , Now dawned another , much harder to handle — A symbol forged in blood and strife , The mask of death , the end of life .

My chest aches , my heart dies , To see him wear that foreign guise — I do a double-check , To a slice on his neck A scar from fate , a wound so deep , A promise lost — forever to keep .

“ What have you become ? ” I cry undone , The brother I knew , the child once spun In threads of hope — now tangled tight , In anger’s grasp, in misery and plight His voice , so cold , it chills my soul — The one I knew has lost control .

A care I gave , a trust once pure , Now fractured , shattered — gone , obscure . He’s not the boy I lectured that day , The one who teased , the one who’d play . Now a shadow — dark and grim — His light extinguished , stolen dim .

" I thought you left , " he says , so stern , But I can forgive , he can return . He can come back to annoy me again — To tag along and pester my friends — I won’t complain , not anymore . I opened my mouth , but he was gone like before .

[mvskedxrtist]

You're My God Now.

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Darcyphilia, Pegging, Dumbification, Size Kink, Master Kink, Public Sex, PwP, Religious Play, Brat Taming, Degradation

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Am I going in some color patterns? Yes. Will I probably do the Fatui soon? Definitely. I wanna make a crying Pierro which would be so hot. But for now you guys can have a crying God.

AFAB Nun!Reader x Venti - You're My God Now

You were probably one of the more well know nuns in the Church of Favonius. You always prayed to Barbatos every day and night, singing church songs with the others. You were sort of the role model the younger nuns could look up to, both mentally and physically as you were 6 foot.

Venti had heard of you before, hearing that you were his devoted follower and decided to maybe grace your presence. He had first decided to play a lovely poem for you on his Lyre in front of the church, which you felt embarrassed from this happening and had stopped him before he could continue.

Then he decided to try and help around the church, wanting to get closer to you but that ended up in him making a mess and disappearing from the church before reappearing drunk on Dandelion Wine. "Leave. Now Venti. Your drunk." "Aww.. But I haven't- hic! done anything too wrong!~" "Out!!"

Venti kept coming around the church everyday for the last few weeks and slowly over time, you got tired of it and just ignored him when he was there which turned him into an absolute brat who liked teasing you. And that's where he had a bright idea.

One night, before you locked up the cathedral, you looked around and checked to make sure every spot was clean and in its spot. Soft footsteps could be heard as you walled down the path and then you saw it. The most ethereal being you could of expected. "L-lord Barbatos?" You asked softly and wiped your hands off your skirt before you got on your knees in front of him.

Barbatos looked absolutely gleeful. Finally, now he had caught your lovely attention even though it took him exposing his identity to you. "Rise, my beloved follower." He told you as you stood up and gave him a smile. "I've been watching you for a while... And may I say, you have to be my most devoted believer. So for that, I'd like to give you a gift~"

The next few minutes were followed by you kissing the God passionately like he had your last breath and Venti sitting on your lap, marking your neck. "T-this is so wrong..." You muttered as you pinned the Archon against the wall and chuckled, looking at the tiny shorts he wore. "But doesn't it feel right?~" "It sure does~" You got handed a strap on by Barbatos and looked a bit amused that the Anemo Archon had something like that before lifting your skirt up and putting the strap on.

"Oh please ruin your God, please!~" He cried out for you before you had slammed the entire 7 inch dildo inside of his asshole, bottoming out immediately. Venti was in complete shock and moaned loudly, cumming on the wall already. "Seems the God of Freedom can't even handle something inside of you... By the Archons, you're such a dirty slut~" You teased him and chuckled before you started to thrust inside of him, soft clapping echoing the cathedral while you fucked him.

Venti adored this. It was what he finally wanted. And oh Archons does it feel amazing. You towered over his petite body, thrusting inside of him endlessly while he couldn't do a thing. He was an Archon yet he felt so satisfied with letting someone else taking control. "M-master~" He whined when you had thrusted deep and had hit his prostate. "G-gah~ nghhh— more, more, more!~" He moaned louder as your strap-on made him feel so weak yet delighted.

You had looked down to see his cock twitching again while you had started slamming into his asshole faster. "You better not cum right away you slut~" You growled in his ear and thrusted harder, covering his mouth slightly so no one from outside heard their rendezvous. "M-master~ can't..hold in much longer~" He whimpered and started tearing up from how fast you were inside of him.

The pleasure was too much, he couldn't hold it in anymore. Venti's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came on the wall for a second time, tears running down his face. You had immediately stopped and slapped his ass before looking straight at him. "Did I tell you to cum?" "N-no master~" He looked exhausted after cumming twice and turned to look back at you, whining when you slowly pulled out of him until the tip of the silicone cock was inside of his asshole.

"Since you want to cum so badly, we're not stopping until I feel satisfied, Lord Barbatos. Or should I say Venti? Almost fooled me, but the fact you pulled this same ordeal on me during the day today and even showed me the dildo told me it all." Venti's eyes went wide and looked embarrassed that he was now actually caught. "Don't be embarrassed now you little whore!! Acting so bratty before, I might as well break you~"

You had immediately slammed yourself back into Venti's ass, groaning softly while the now weakened Archon screamed your name over and over like a prayer. My how the roles have reversed, instead of you praying for him, he was praying for you. Pounding his slutty hole endlessly while he cried tears of pleasure, he would definitely not forget this night.

Especially since after this incident, he snuck into the church a lot more when you had the night shift. And your routine would repeat once again. A sinful cycle he nor you wanted to break.

[bloodcasket]

A BEGINNING, AND AN END

PAIRING: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Not proof-read, angst, mentions of readers death, depression, loss, loneliness, a relationship that is crumbling.

WC: 1,650

DESCRIPTION: Vergil wonders what exactly he did that made him lose you. He breaks as he realizes his mistakes, and that he will never be able to hold you again.

A/N: This work was rushed!!!!!!!!!! I literally just had a vomit post of all my sad little ideas. Currently hyper-fixated on Vergil! Probably will write more for him. I imagined this concept last night, and I kid you not, I cried.

Marriage was a concept created for foolish beings who wished to bind themselves to one another. When Vergil lived through his life, blinded by a pursuit of power, such things like marriage were nothing but a stupid scheme.

Why would he wish to be controlled by someone? Tied down to them? Love was nothing. Love was idiocy. That is what he thought, after all.

Then you came.

A human, young and kind. You placed your hand in his, pressed your silken lips along his bruised knuckles, and kissed his ruined skin. You promised him love. You showed him peace. You introduced him to light and laughter and mirth.

It was then, after the many days of holding you and growing to love you, that he realized why people did such “foolish” traditions. He grew weak with you. Became sensitive. Was not embarrassed to be genuine with you. He had finally decided.

He would propose.

You had tears swelling up along your waterline, slipping down your upturned cheeks as you smiled, you sobbed the words “Of course I will marry you”.

He married you.

The marriage was simple, no one but you two to promise yourselves to each other. He had found an old church to hold the ceremony, the ceilings tall and pointing to the sky. The tinted glass waned bright colors over your bashful face, your eyes glittering with devotion before you leaned in to kiss him. A kiss to ensure eternity.

Your fingers trembled against his as he slipped the wedding band on, he had not realized his cool façade has cracked along with yours. He was crying with you, so ecstatic to finally have someone who can understand him.

Someone who won’t judge him, someone who will tell him it will be okay. To hold him close in the night when he had nightmares. To lay their head in his lap as he read out his favorite poems.

“Vergil, stand over by the tree! I want to take a picture of you!” you giggled happily, face contorting into an expression that can only be described as glee. You held up your camera, adjusting the device to be suited for the brightened, summer day.

“And what for?” your husband seemed annoyed, looking at you with a nonchalant grimace. “Because I want to capture memories, now go, go!”. You shooed him away, begging him to find purchase near the weeping willow tree. It’s arms swaying in the gentle breeze, faded green leaves swooping overhead, tangled moss falling to the soil.

He obeys, acting as if this was something pointless, but internally, he was blissful, full of pride at the acknowledgement of your adoration. He stands, watching as you snap the picture, and then returns to your side gracefully.

“Well? Was that to your liking?” he asks, leaning down to see the picture, and you nod with a grin, telling him “thank you”.

This was something that became quite frequent. You had recently started to indulge in art, and had brought up to him that you would paint his portraits.

And paint you did.

Your works were wonderful. Your art room his secret sanctuary. A gallery of only him, painted with oils and acrylics, colors that portray him to be a god amongst this tiny Earth.

Inspired by a simple, small photo of him. A photo that is always captured by you.

You enjoyed comparing his white hair to the color of a rich magnolia. Consistently painting him alongside the elegant flowers. You had told him once that they reminded you of him. They were sensitive to the human touch, turning brown from the oils of a selfish finger caressing it. They were independent, and were beautiful while they kept to themselves.

Just like him.

Relationships are hard. He understands this. He knows that if he does not give enough, the ones he finds dear will crumble away. Loyalty, honesty, generosity, quality time, devotion….. so much he must do to keep you satisfied.

He tries, he’s a perfectionist, but when you two wander in public, see the other couples mold into one another, he feels ashamed. He does not like to hold your hand in public, and he feels tense when you initiate certain intimacy. You would get bored of him, wouldn’t you?

He admires how easy you make it look, how you strip him of his clothes, settle him in the tub, speak reassuring words of praise as you scrub the grime off his beaten skin. He relaxes under your touch, wonders why of all people, you chose to be with him. How you don’t hesitate to bend to his will, run miles to retrieve whatever he wants. Speak honeyed words, just enough to make him melt.

You’ve helped rid his nightmares, you’ve made him feel alive. He only dreams of bliss, of divine moments shared with you.

Moments like you and him, taking pictures under the willow tree.

But yet, he cannot even find the courage to move forward. To give you the smallest things you desire.

He grows sour. For once, he feels powerless. Inferior.

He can never give you what you want.

Recently he has grown colder to your touch. Shallow and incoherent with any simple notion.

You will try to reach for him, your pinkie grazing the side of his firm hand. He only tugs away, resisting your affection. You will plead to bathe him, massage the ache in his shoulder blades. He only denies your wishes to care for him.

Your paintings become more erratic than before, a sense of gloom in their glistening wake. A sheen of desolation hidden amongst the thick lines of paint. You have lost inspiration. His divinity and blue aura that was once captured by the bristles of your paintbrush are now fading into a melancholic art piece.

You are afraid you have lost him.

You two seem to get in an argument one night. It is after an awkward vent of your feelings to him in the library.

“I miss when you loved me”, is what you confess.

Vergil shouts selfish comments, says he prefers to be alone. Says you bother him too much. Says that maybe marriage was the wrong decision. He does not mean these things. But you have taken them to heart.

You start to cry, the whites of your eyes now bloodshot. Hiccups erupting from your lips. Sobs that beg him to take all his words back.

He doesn’t.

“Fine” you sniff, “I will let you be “.

A sickening feeling blooms in him when you leave, your bag tossed over your shoulder.

When you pass it is like no other.

He felt it burn through him. Regret. Guilt. Loneliness. He knew something had went wrong.

Your body had been found on the streets, bloodied, bones shattered, arms disfigured. You had tried to put up a fight, that was for sure. It made him sick. He felt numb. Practically in denial of your death. Of your murder.

He could have saved you…..he promised you. You have given him everything he wanted, and yet this…he couldn’t even prevent this from happening.

Your face, swollen and bruised. Eyes blackened and cheeks cut open. Your soft lips, never to kiss his again.

If only he hadn’t been selfish, you wouldn’t have went out that night. You could have been here, with him, embracing him. Telling him that you loved him for all eternity.

The wedding band was still firm on your finger, your blood thick over Vergil’s name engraved on the ring.

Vergil kisses you one last time before your body is sealed in it’s coffin, a wooden box that shall keep your remains concealed forever. Your lips are so cold now, lifeless and chapped. Lacking it’s warmth and tenderness that you usually carried.

A part of him regrets kissing you. Your frozen face and your icy touch will now haunt him for the rest of his life. Terrorize his dreams.

Just a couple of months ago you two had stood in the old Victorian chapel, the stained glass casting an array of colors over your gentle smile. The beginning.

The last image of you is an image of death. They are lowering you into the Earth, shovels tossing dirt over the wooden case. An end.

Dante has offered that Vergil should stay with him, get away from the home that he once shared with you. His brother figured it would be best, a solution to rid him of his sorrow. The elder refuses every time.

Your presence…your glow. It still is fresh, and alive in the walls of the home. He must stay. He must stay for you. Sometimes he swears he hears your voice in the halls, your sweet tone making him panic and get up, just to realize he is only imagining it. He is only imagining that you are not gone. That you are still here with him.

He still visits your grave, as often as he possibly can. In the meantime, he tends to the tree he has planted in your garden, a magnolia tree that is fresh and desperately trying to grow. He wished he could show you.

There had been one night where he had a nightmare, images of you screaming and crying his name, pleading for help as you died, crimson leaking from your lips as you sputter blood.

“Vergil! Help me!”.

He wakes in a cold sweat, so terrified that it genuinely shakes him. This vision had stayed clinging in his dreams ever since your death, never sparing him mercy.

On nights like this, he rushes to enter your art room, sitting amongst your wooden work chair, now too restless and shaken to attempt to sleep again. He knew if he tried, he would only be met with the image of your lifeless form again.

He sits there, your painting of him underneath the willow tree sitting proudly amongst your art desk. You had told him it was your most prized possession. Your best work. He thought so too.

He cries your name under the glum luminescence of the moon.

He decides this time, he will paint you. No matter how bad he does it, your beauty will always bleed through.

[msanonymous]

“How do you become a poet?”

Always looking/ Hardly speaking/ Defending the moon/ Disappearing from the room/ As if you were never even there/ Drinking more caffeine than breathing air/ Instead of falling in love with smiles, looking at them & just wondering why they don't reach it to that person's eyes?/ Instead of getting lost in the eyes, reading the sadness in them & wondering why they cried themselves to sleep at nights?/ Unsaid words, lots of them, so many that your mind gets fully clogged up with them, & at nights they threaten to spill out from your eyes as teardrops/ Unsent letters, loads of them, too many hidden well in your secret drawers, because of the fear of one accidentally landing in someone's letter box/ “Where is your home?”/ I don't know/ Strangers to friends. Within years. Friends to strangers again. Within a heartbeat/ I think I've seen this film before & I didn't like the ending/ Too many films of memories, playing in your head all together at the same time/ Too many stories of your life, having the similar last page, with the same last line/ “You are not enough!”/ Am I really not made for love?/ Lying to the whole world. “I'm fine”/ Lying to your therapist. “I'm fine, other people have it so much worse than me”/ Lying to your parents. “I'm fine.” “Then why are you crying?” “I'm not, I'm fine”/ Lying to yourself. ‘I'm fine.’ ‘No, you're not. You know you're not.’ ‘I know! But does it matter? No. It doesn't. There are hearts more hurt than ours.’ ‘But then why are you crying?’/ Daydreams & what-ifs/ Always finding yourself at the edge of the cliffs/ Envying & smiling sadly at the people who are poetry/ “I read your poem. It's beautiful!” What about me?/ Not touching your diary for months/ Then writing 6 poems in a day, after receiving 6 brand new cuts/ When no matter what pen you choose to write with, fountain, ball point, glitter gel, the ink you'll see after completing the last line will all be blood/ & then there's suddenly blood everywhere. Blood, so much blood. You lift your shaky hands & find both of your palms covered in it. You cover your eyes with them & sob, drowning in your own flood/ & you just keep praying to God for it to be your own. That the cracks of heart from all this blood seeped through, please God, let it be mine. Let it be mine/ The world hurts you enough everyday. But the last thing you want to do is to hurt the world back in your lifetime/ Mastering the art of stitching the wounds. But never for yours/ Other people have it so much worse. You don't deserve any of the cures/ Letting the wounds you think you deserve bleed/ Continuously, trying to not pay the pain any heed/ But still failing/ & weeping & weeping/ Then picking up the quill & dipping it in the aorta of your heart/ & attempting to create art/ But I think I'm not the right person to answer this question/ Because I am too inexperienced & unfamiliar with that profession/ Because as for me, I'm just a girl looking out of her window, waiting for someone to come & look at her/ & just not look away after/ I'm not a poet, how can I never be?/ But I do think/ That poets are not something that people become/ It's a mask. That people buy one day, at the price of heartbreaks & shattered hopes, to put on & hide the ugly & weak personas of them/ It's something people have to do, you know?/ Because the world can barely tolerate the poets. How many more wounds do you think you can sustain? & how many rocks do you think the world will throw?/ When you'll step out of your room/ As you?

~ms.anonymous

[atlasdoe]

Evan Rosier was born with the idea of a savior. He was the one who would save his family and by doing so help save the Sacred 28 altogether.

The Pureblood families were dying out, and everybody knew it but were too scared to voice it. Dameon Rosier was his family's last hope to carry on their name, so he wasted no time, and from the moment he married Melanie Blishwick he got to work.

It was a struggle at first. They had many miscarriages and failed months but eventually Melanie proved herself strong enough to see a pregnancy through til the end.

Noody was happier than Daemon was when their baby first began to cry. “I have a son!” he cheered to the room, only to be met with scared looks from the midwives.

“Actually,” one of them began cautiously. “You have a daughter.”

The world stopped for a moment and as he scanned the room for anyone to give him hope that his family wasn’t doomed, his eyes met Melanies’ who was sweaty and crying, still, she sighed deeply, “We can always try again.”

He nodded and swiftly left the room, mumbling “I have to send out letters,” as he went, leaving her alone with their crying daughter.

The midwife looked at her with pitiful eyes and a sad smile.”What will her name be?” she asked.

Melanie looked at the small bundle in her arms and felt her heart grow. She had never fallen in love before, but from the moment the baby opened her eyes and saw her mother for the first time, Melanie suddenly understood what all the romantic poems had been about.

She also understood heartbreak for the first time, as she knew already that no matter what her baby does in her life, she will always be second to her future little brother. No matter how perfect their daughter already is, Daemon will make this little girl's life hell and blame her for everything simply because she was born a woman.

Because of this, Melanie named her Eve.

It didn’t take long for Eve to become a big sister. Less than six months later Melanie was pregnant again.

Another girl. Another birth that Dameon walked out of, leaving his wife to name their newest child.

This one was called Sabrina, and within four years she had three younger sisters; Aimee, Grace and Aria.

From the moment Aria sang her first cry it was known that their sixth time would be their last. If Melanie wasn’t able to produce an heir then Dameon would start over with someone else, leaving her disgraced, poor, and a single mother of five.

Luckily, on the 13th of February 1960, Dameon and Melanie Rosier finally had their boy.

His name, that patiently waited five other births for him, was Evan, and as he cried for the first time, his mother almost breathed for the last.

It was a messy birth, and the celebration for the baby being a boy drowned out any attempt of hers for help. The only person in the room who was looking her way was Eve, who had snuck into the room after hearing her mothers cries. She had tugged on one of the midwife's skirts until they noticed Melanie’s pale face.

As the doctors tried to regain Melanie’s life, her husband continued to celebrate, ignoring any plea his daughter made to get him to help, and as Melanie watched them with heavy eyes, she saw what the next thirty years of her life will entail.

Evan would get everything. Daemon would make sure that he will have the best education and best clothes and anything money could buy. Evan will become just as arrogant, just as greedy and just as selfish as his father while Eve, Sabrina, Aimee, Grace and Aria would be left to fend for themselves.

If Melanie didn’t survive, she didn’t know if the girls would even be allowed to still live in the house.

That reason, and that reason alone was what made her stay. Because there was no one she loved more then her daughters and no one she hated more than her son.

[chihuahuawashere]

ZOLU!!!

During the 2 year time skip when zoro was trying under MiHawk at his mansion zoro picked up poetry.

He would write haiku’s and poems rhymes and little sentences or just writing about his day.

The only occurring thing that was happening in those writings was that Luffy was in every single one of them.

He would write Haikus about missing and longing for Luffy

To writing sappy shakespearean type poems about wanting luffy to be in his arms again.

Also writing and comparing him to things that he saw that day. “I saw a beautiful sunset but the warmth of the afternoon sun doesn’t compare to the warmth you give in my heart when we cuddle in bed” 

Even writing about what luffy would have loved to seen. “When I got here I saw a bunch of monkeys with swords I know you would have loved to have seen that or maybe fought them” “I saw a beetle the size of my hand! Luffy I just /know/ you would have loved to seen that wish I could have showed you”

Zero wrote every single day all leading up to when they were gonna see each other at Sabody. He kept those letters as a reminder of his love and loyalty to Luffy.

But of course luffy has a way of finding everything out back on the ship Luffy found a little box under zoros bed while he was looking for his hat. When he opened the box it held all of Zoros letters.

Each letter were in there own envelope with the seal on it. Curiosity killed the cat and luffy carefully opened all of them making sure that the seal didn’t break. Each letter was in order from the first day Zoro was at MiHawks mansion all the way to the last.

And luffy read each and every one of them. It gave me a better understanding of zoro he thought he’ll never reach. Some letters made him laugh as he reads about his 145th time getting his ass kicked by the monkeys

While some made him want to cry when he read just how /bad/ Zoro was beating himself up about not being strong enough to take care of luffy and the crew and how strong then he needs to be for them and for luffy.

He cried extra hard on how Zoro was practically begging to see Luffy again. Saying how it’s the worst type of torture he’s ever went through and how he will never make any of his worst enemies go through this type of pain that is in his heart. Some letters even have tear stains on it. Basically saying that Zoroastrian cried while writing this.

Some made his heart swell with utter love and devotion when Zoro was listing off all the things he loves about Luffy and he can’t wait to kiss every inch of him when he got back to the sunny.

After hours of reading Luffy finally got to last letter. It was so obvious that Zoro was writing about this in a happy rush considering the was the it was written in a different way compared to all the other letters.

In the beginning all the other letters were sloppy with messy handwriting with bad grammar no good punctuation but near the middle in the end the handwriting got better and a lot better and the grammar got good to it even went to the point that near the ending of his letters during the second year he started writing in cursive and in the month where he had to go back to Sabody he was writing in perfect cursive. 

When Luffy got done reading the last letter Zoro walks into the boys quarters. All to see Luffy sitting on the ground in his right side was a pile of opened envelopes while on his left side were Zoros letters all neatly stacked. Luffy whips his head to see who is at the door and saw Zoro Who was staring at him in shock.

Before Zoro could say anything or just to justify himself Luffy leaped into his arms in a crying mess all while peppering him and kisses all over he’s fact and neck. Whisper chanting “I love you” and “I missed you too”. Zoro held on to him tightly making sure that Luffy wouldn’t leave him. Equally trying to Pepper kisses all over Luffys face while quietly crying into Luffys hands that cups his checks.

In the end Nami finds Luffys hat and finds Luffy and Zoro crying making out the floor doorway of the boys quarters. Hitting them on the head for making out in a werid place again but also for crying. Though they’ll never tell her the real reason on why there were crying so much that day. 

[coff-in]

Coff-in?? Waiting for my response??? HHrrrk I'm blushing so hard rn holy shit Devious Anon is in love <3 Interestingly I think Reader killing Ashley is a possibility, but it's done under very specific conditions—like she has to be sure Andrew wants to kill Ashley before she takes on the job, ergo basically in the vision what I think would happen is Andrew is approaching Ashley with the knife and is visibly debating killing her and then reader kill-steals, kind of. Andrew asks reader why the fuck she would do that and reader replies almost innocuously, "She was causing you a lot of pain, and you would've cried if you killed Ashley, right? So I'll do it for you." She killed Ashley to keep Andrew for herself, yes, but also to spare Andrew the guilt of killing Ashley. I feel like it's harder for him to resent her under these conditions bc yk, he was about to do the exact same thing and she did it for him. NOW IF ASHLEY RETALIATES AND KILLS HER bro I don't think these siblings are ever going to come back together the same again bc now Ashley suspects Andrew and reader of being against her, Andrew has a looooot of mixed feelings (does he wanna kill Ash???) and reader is basically always a hair-trigger away from flipping out (she didn't think she wanted to kill Ash but now that it's in her head...)

Also also I realized I built up Devious Baby Sis reader a lot in my head but did not actually share most of it (she's basically a whole character now just without a name) so here it be! The reason why baby sis is the way she is comes from her observation of the family dynamic as the youngest—that is, she and Ash both rely on Andrew. Ashley is very openly needy about it, which reader notices tends to get on Andrew's nerves. They both baby her, but reader sometimes gets left out when her older siblings become too tangled with each others issues (ex. Nina's death is something i'm not sure reader would've been involved in). Reader is internally actually pretty insecure like Ashley, but instead of acting out (which she know annoys Andrew), she switches tactics so they act out for her—in jealousy. Basically reader is insecure and constantly tests their feelings because otherwise, she can't convince herself that she's loved.

CRYING AT THIS FEAST SO EARLY IN THE MORNING HRRRRGG It's not fair that Andrew's so fine it's actually illegal. He's in my head rent free (you can tell by the amount of asks I've thrown your way coff-in I need hELP) I feel like this is less an ask and me just building fanfic with you in your asks now :,D I just have so many brainworms lmao bUT IF YOU WANNA WRITE A WHOLE ASS ANGST FIC I ASSURE YOU I AM YOUR GAL << I WILL READ, I WILL DEVOUR

notes from coff-in: I WAS WAITING ALL EVENING FOR YOU BABES!!! AAAAHHHH ITS DEVIOUS ANON!!!! and don't worry about talking in my inbox, a fact you should all know is that i love to yap and talk (you also have a tag now! #devious anon visits the coffin)

[fem] reader-insert, [devious younger sister reader], incest

i don't know if i could elaborate more on the decay route because it's just too good man! the paths we've explored so far are all so fucking exciting! i am curious about how ashley would traverse her relationship with andrew and devious baby sis [reader] since ashley would be the only one seeing the vision.

i've also been building up this little devious [reader] in my head but it's all self-indulgent stuff. hearing you talk about why she is the way she is is pretty neat though! i have trouble keeping all to deep analysis stuff in my head and it causes me to lose track of character traits and motives and such :p i mostly saw [reader] is just being this little yandere manipulator, you know? she's genuinely happy with her siblings but she uses all these tricks and tactics to indulge in her incestuous feelings with her siblings while also not getting into trouble. she writes romantic poems for andrew but it's forged in julia's handwriting so he doesn't suspect it's [reader]. she gets naked while sharing a room with ashley and plays it off as okay since they're both sisters and siblings and only one year apart in age.

ah... imagine that she's in love with both of her siblings but thinks that andrew and ashley don't love her back or yet ARE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. the conflict she feels about her romantic feelings to her siblings and her need to keep a secret to keep them with her. she fakes being an angel because she doesn't think that they'd love her back if they knew how apathetic she could be towards other people. even if she wasn't there when nina died (something she construes as something personal between andrew and ashley that she could never fit into), [reader] probably wouldn't have helped her out of that box. it made ashley happy, right? and andrew wouldn't have to get a girlfriend, right? all wins in her book.

she'd kill and maim and butcher and burn and lie and die for her siblings if she needed to (well, she probably wouldn't die without them ofc). they are her beginning and her end! her soulmates reincarnated as her siblings so that they'd be together forever (from the womb to the tomb, as i've seen said in passing). a lot of her personality revolves around andrew and ashley and while i want to work on that a little bit more in my silly little head, i think it could also be used as some sort of purposefully character flaw?

speaking of long fanfics, i have an ao3 account (that is empty for now) but maybe one day your devious idea could become a devious multi-chapter fanfic (with your permission of course. i want to make sure everyone gets their fair share of credit).

also, also, ALSO! imagine andrew and ashley celebrating [reader]'s birthday! :3 happy thought to make up for all the angst

----

coff-in

[ratlesshonret]

anyway i suppose its time to feed the kaya fan(s?) out there.

"Lament If you wanted me to speak If you wanted me to think If you wanted me to carry on our dreams..." -In Hell We Live, Lament

"Looking on the bright side I'm alive I still remember all the people I love So come at me and do your worst All this pain and suffer Don't stand a chance against our iron hearts

As the morning came and went And the people stayed and left And the earth went 'round and around The stars never looked so kind The wind ever so fragrant

Through the tiny slit in the wall Every night I was invited to watch A theater played by moonlit birds They spread their wings Carrying our silenced words Singing our historic songs Letting everyone in the future know That we existed

What a perfect night I felt the urge to write a book Pass down my life Until recently, time didn't feel so fast With my bloody fingertip All I needed were sticks and paper I started to write poems after poems" -Salt, Pepper, Birds, and the Thought Police

"Fly, perfect wings Where have you been hiding? Bring me to the mind that got us started Fly, perfect wings Show them who I can be For the one last time if you will" -Fly, My Wings

"Empty sky I'm alone with no one nearby But our memories ignite the passion That keeps us both alive Invite us to the beautiful star sight Our hearts unite

Its your consideration Your patience, dedication Devotion, action, forbearance that keep me flying high Compassion, reinforcement Encouragement, conviction You are the star in my eyes Acceptance, recognition Assurance, absolution Even your existence takes the burden off my mind Allow me to fight by your side...

...Pretty sky I'm stargazing with you nearby And our memories ignite the passion That keeps us both alive Invite us to the beautiful star sight Our souls unite

We've walked through every season The winter snow, summer wind Memories of what happened leave me little butterflies My eyes went closed and open And captured every moment Your smiles are always bright I'm glad to have such fortune Don't make this an illusion There are still so many versions of the night sky we both liked I want to stay by your side

On a cloudy night Just you and I You were so close by Yet so far from my mind The way you smiled The way you cried Oh baby, there's no such thing Forever's just a saying There's nothing I can decide" -Past the Stargazing Season

"And I thought that this is the triumph That I needed to move on I've blamed everything on you It's easy to just pretend

You gently peeled open the wings Covering my humiliated face I was so ashamed...

...Since when have I Have I became me? I gave up crying I gave up waiting I gave up waiting optimistic dreams Ripped out my feathers Cracked off my beak, freed my screams Your spores cling onto my skin Powdery snow cleared up my sins" -Mushrooms

"Connected to your side, that feeling flies and it floats high I'm walking through the sky, and now I only find Before those other souls all tried, I opened the door wide My feet in sight, that feeling flies and it floats high And really deep inside, I feel I've been confined My nervous self I cannot hide, please take it somewhere out of mind" -Float Play

"How much I wished for another Better, happier, brighter, future Here I am, at the gate I stand Dear old times, I've made up my mind...

...I must be the reason why You have given up your smiles And the hope inside your eyes have been stolen I must be the reason why You must tell me all these lies Wishing you a better life Without me by your side" -Through Patches of Violet

"Hydrangeas are calling my name Bring me to a garden I've never seen There, I heard your siren sing Fill me with a feeling I've never known Staring into my head Your eyes are like kaleidoscope

After everyone leaves You take the seat next to me Quietly, this pounding in my heart Feels like kaleidoscope

Let's escape to somewhere we can be ourselves again Where happily ever after is not only for queens and kings

Come here, we must leave You hurried and took my hand Jabberwocks opened up their mouths Muttering words I don't understand They bit and slashed you open Cut off your legs, your arms, your head This confusing sight feels like kaleidoscope

I held your head, running for the edge The edge of the world, down I go If I was born in a different body will our lives be easy? If we get another life I hope we're not human at all" -Boys in Kaleidosphere

"Like summer nights passing by, passing by Blow away moments I regret Like the wind you came, passing by, passing by Stir up an endless storm

Like winter nights passing by, passing by Under my blankets, I chase after you Like the wind you came, passing by, passing by Ghosts you have left behind" -Every Other Ghost

"When the snow melted away Yet my world frozen and gray You brought me the seeds And buried them deep in me...

...They say you'll never be erased You still live inside me, inside me...

...I cried I screamed I slept I woke up mad Counting blessings we could have I tried to defy the rules dividing us In blood we trust

You're gone like the wind Chasing you, I breathed in deep Swallowing the dust that used to be Part of you Duetting solo to your lonely Vaguely beautiful melody" -Duetting Solo

"At the fated land Will you watch me end?...

How much we must have diverged Goodnight Hello I'm here Waiting Its our final chance With your hand, do what must be done" -Through Patches of Violet

"If only we could be forever naive and pure If only we could lead painless futures If only there could be a forgiving world" -Between Two Worlds

"Bon voyage Your mermaid's setting sail At last Full speed towards your heart Full speed towards your heart

I've had enough I'm reclaiming myself The aft Leaving behind the hurt Leaving behind the hurt...

...I'm piercing through the rope that strangled you and me Let us be free" -Compass

"Been hurt then, now and again And forming as a hole, pain grows within my chest I hold one needle and I sew this closed with thread No matter all the days my heart saved I would shut my mouth and I would take all this weight I'd bear the pain for every day, still even as I felt I'd break

Been hurt then, now and again I'd sew to forget that hole within my chest All I wanted in the end was to stay by your side instead No matter all the days my heart saved I would face the weight Though I was sick with the strain and the blame Couldn't take all your pain that I can't erase If I shut my mouth and wait, I'll escape the pain and the heartache

The me that you've seen wasn't enough to keep, now it seems I only wished to be of use through the grief I held so deep Before all our ties die Let's meet again in passing this time, and say a final last goodbye The me that you've seen wasn't enough to keep, now it seems And yet I'm reeling from the scene that you leave within my dreams Before all our ties die Let's meet again in passing, say goodbye With our regret we hold inside" -The Desolation of Spring

"I could be the reason why You were able to be kind And the hearts we held so tight Won't stay broken Love must be the reason why I still believe in this lie That you'll live a better life Without me by your side" -Through Patches of Violet

"Pot of charcoal ink, paper weights, friction on the page Hoping it would finally reach you someday Like the distant light in lunarscape Embracing you always

Year 1, I learned your name Year 10, we were always together Year 100, I left you Year 1,000, I missed you...

...Despite all the good memories It is time to face our reality Sometimes goodbyes are necessary Sometimes goodbyes are necessary

So we start another journey Letting time repair our wounded beliefs If our hearts remain loving Will you break a promise with me?" -Year N

"I just wanted to tug your hair behind your ears Hold you in my arms, I'm always here I couldn't have gone so far So far, without your absence But somehow I still wish that you'll be here

You're my poison You're my poison You're my poison Magical scent I'm addicted to I'm addicted to I'm addicted to you

I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry too Neither of us wanted it to end up this way

The poppies cry The poppies sing The poppies bleed As we drifted apart Have me poisoned You have me poisoned Oh, talk to me Tell me the world you see

I just wanted to make you smile again" -Opium

"Deep, ever deep, ever deep in my heart that grieves Deep down in my voice that bleeds That scar that you see It bound what we'd be, you gouged it in me So they remain, every ache binding us will stay Let's wipe all our tears away Each day that will fade, I'll always take all your pain I'll bear the weight for your sake" -Hello Marina

"Oh, not again, now the train's gone and left And the time to part won't come back again While I can't call to mind all the words, if I try I find to pocket them will keep them all alive Wheeze through the night, as my lungs burn inside As I fake through the day that never subsides If I can't call to mind all the words or the lines I'll try to ride the train Wherever it is going tonight" -Lagtrain

"...Lament Why'd you make my voice stutter? Why do truths never matter? Why'd you curse me with 'you're a natural born genius'?" -In Hell We Live, Lament

[domquixotedospobresblog]

When you love someone, it's a serious thing. We become adults, we become children again and we even admit to having a sensitive side, that feminine side. I'll only speak for myself so as not to complicate the lives of those convinced macho men who also cry at night hugging their pillows. I'll also refer to just one of the women I've loved. Let me see. I think she was the seventh woman who entered my thoughts and heart. When you're young, you're reckless, so quantity is worth more than quality. But for her, I wrote 83 songs, 4,342 poems, 348 love letters, and 3 diaries. I gave her countless gifts. I humiliated myself 2,853 times. I cried 6,732 times, many times a day. I smiled 3 times. I said I love you. I lost count. I asked for you back. I don't remember how many times. I tried countless times to forget. Maybe a 5-digit number. My thoughts must have been like a thousand times a day. 20 hours a day, she lived in my mind and only left for the short time I fell asleep, I didn't have any dreams about her, not that I remember, before finishing I just want to add that the three smiles were on the same day, when I saw her, when I met her and when she left, because I didn't know what it was like to lose a love until that moment, and look, she didn't even accept my love the first time, to see what it's like to love someone, we suffer even without having any intimacy or relationship, it's this love that we should avoid, loving without being loved.

Jonas r Cezar

[growintheflowers]

A poem of what I wish I could have told my younger self

PART ONE-US

Why can’t they just love me

Why am I so horrible

Why am I such a failure

I feel the screaming words burn my ears

My body following and searching for the voice

My body sensing urgency

I trip over my own feet

Smacking into the glass floor below me

I look down to find

Me.

She’s young

Fragile

Pale

The moonlight illuminating her tear stained, freckled face

Her sobs and pleads growing in volume

Why can’t they just love me

All I want is for them to love me

She is looking at the moon

Searching for someone to answer

To save her

To free her from the pain she faces below

I find myself screaming into the glass

Trying to tell her I’m here

As if she can hear me

Except

I fail

My voice echoes back to me

And

She collapses with her cries being suffocated by silence

The silence that screams

You are alone.

PART TWO-HER

Moon

What do I have to do to receive love?

Please

I beg

My eyes can no longer take these nights

My body is screaming for me to stop

My mind is no longer clear I just want to be loved

I just want to be loved

I just want to be loved

Moon

Please

Save me

Before it’s too late

PART THREE-MOON

The moon

She offers light to the darkest nights

Allowing those who are lost to find a way to feel found again

To feel love

To feel heard

The moon

Someone who truly listens

Allows those who search for a place to breathe

A temporary home filled with nothing but peace I close my eyes as her pleads rise

I feel her sobs pulse through me My eyes blurring I feel her spiral Fearful of a tornado I feel my skin burn Reminders of what it once was as she screams Moon Please Save me Before it’s too late Please I plead for myself Let me save her Before it’s too late 

PART FOUR-HIM

His words spoken softly as they rolled off the tip of his tongue

I can love you

I will love you

I do love you

I could feel his love come towards me

Regardless of the miles

The distance between

I felt his love

As safety grows

So does the longing

Inches of me are shown

The body I hated was loved

The body I hated I began to love

His words echoed

You are safe

I will never leave you

I love you

The next thing I know

I am

Crying

Screaming

Ripping

Prying at every inch of me

His words were no longer sweet

Why did I ever love you?

You never deserved my love

I despise you

His words burning and turning inside me

A sharp dagger entering every insecurity I gave to him

I cover mirrors

Baths no longer exist

The same clothing on repeat

The pantry becomes a distant memory

Moon

Why did you do this to me

PART FIVE-THEM

My parents

Her parents

My friends

Her friends

I watch as they offer their love

They stand by her side and cheer her on

But

She sees as the door closes

Their love erupts into fires of hate

The hands that cheered her on turn pitch black and necrotic

I see their care dissipate

I’m yelling through the glass floor

Don’t give up on her now!

My fists pounding and pounding

Don’t give up on her now!

Blood pouring out of my knuckles

Don’t give up on her now!

My fists going numb

As I watch the very moment they let go  

PART SIX-IT

I’m back to watching her in her prison

Seeing her pain grow dark and black surrounding her

The pantry fading away

Her door creaking and groaning

Begging for her to open the door

To open the door to

Eating

Drinking

Living

Her skin screaming as the cold blade kisses

I knew this is what was to come

She’s crying

Blood now accommodating her once beautiful and freckled skin

She is searching for a home for her pain

A home to let the pain rest and to keep herself alive

Why can’t anyone love me

Moon

Why did you let this happen to me

I just wanted to be loved

I wanted to have love that felt like home

I just wanted to be safe

Her screams echoing in my head

Attempting to blur her thoughts of what if

To keep me away

I find myself once again on the ground

Pounding

Kicking

Screaming

Stop!

Don’t give up!

Please stop!

I’m begging for her to hear me

I keep screaming and kicking

Louder and heavier with each hit on the glass

Cracks fracturing throughout

Let me save you!

And as those words fall from my mouth

Her eyes dart to the night sky

Moon?

And as that word drops from her mouth

I hear a crack

PART SEVEN-I

My vision starts to regain

As I look around, I see that I am falling

But it isn’t scary

The earth is calm around me

My mind feels at peace

I can see myself growing up

From eight-years-old

Begging for the moon to save her

Begging for someone to love her

To fifteen-years-old

Finding someone that could love but left

Feeling her support system burn away to

Attempting to take herself away

To now

Twenty-years-old.

PART EIGHT-YOU

To eight-year-old me,

Someone will love you

I promise

It takes time

But

It happens

It’s wonderful and better than you could ever imagine

And the moon?

She’ll always be there for you

We still talk to her sometimes

To fifteen-year-old me,

God, I am so sorry

It was rough

I wish I could have stopped it

And the pain? The scars?

We still think about it

But the pain is less

The scars, we have searched for, are not visible

We have learned how to love our bodies without someone else

The mirror is our friend again

Clothing has changed

No longer worn for days upon days

We dress up

The blade is something that has been thrown away

Our skin is beautiful with ink

We take care of our skin, finally

And our life?

We love it

We are still learning too

It’s scary

To twenty-year-old me,

We still have time

I know we want to but

Not everything needs to be done overnight

Take time

Party with our friends

Be the life we needed when we were eight and fifteen

Be the love we needed

Be the care we needed

The grief of the pain we went through is there

But

We will get through it Finally, learn to breathe, alright?

[fatuismooches]

Hello Smooches!!

Before I tell you my ask. Yes, it is me. The same anon (simp) that made the Dottore speaking Latin hc (believe it or not, I don't really care)

And OH MY GOD.

THE AMOUNT OF ATTENTION I GOT IS INSANE, STOP IT YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME FLUSTERED💘

THE SEGMENTS ALSO KNOWING LATIN, READER LEARNING A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE JUST TO MAKE DOTTORE MAD. THE POEMS????!!??.... IT'S TOO MUCH❤️❤️❤️

Going off of that one post where it talked about the reader teaching Dottore's child clone about the language he doesn't know.

I can just imagine Dottore watching the reader in the corner of his eye as they hold the child segment in their arms. And he doesn't know what they're saying, but he does know damn well that it's something highly affectionate with how the child segments face is brightening up by the minute. BUT HOW CAN YOU NOT BE SWEET TO HIMMMM, SUCH A CUTIE🥺❤️❤️❤️

With all love (and thank you again for the attention on my post! I didn't expect all the inspiration and positivity I would get😭<3)

Yin anon-

YIN ANON THE ONE WHO CHANGED ME AND MY DOTTORE LOVERS FOR LIFE.... ILY!! WE ALL LOVE UR HC SO MUCH OMG ❤️

EHEHE YES I ALWAYS HAVE TO INCLUDE BABY ZANDY IN MY POSTS 🫶🫶 Literally he is such a cutie patootie I can't fathom being mean to the bb if he cries i cry😭 UGH YES the little boy would be sitting on your lap while you converse with him in that annoying strange language of yours (Dottore would actually probably admire your intelligence but rn he's too caught up with how you didn't share it with him 😒) And then you and Zandy would be giggling and smiling at Archon knows what while completely ignoring Dottore's razor-sharp glare 😅 he just wants in on the secrets too! Zandy probably makes fun of him and the other clones in the secret language too, it's his payback for them treating him too much like a kid 😌

Thank YOU for sharing your thoughts, i love to hear them 🥰