#so who knows what my future holds given that i am suddenly in the same place i was at the end of high school

[clehame]

in cambridge for a wedding/soon to be in oxford for nostalgia and unfortunately it does activate my inferiority complex. [through gritted teeth] i could have gone to oxbridge if i wanted. they’re probably all annoying anyway.

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 | OS

karasu tabito x fem reader ; words: 1.9k (1939)

coming from this event, fifth day, 22/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: the pact had been clear from the beginning: only needy kisses when the situation called for it, but no relationships. everything had been going smoothly up until that point, but the main problem was that now you were falling for your enemy's best friend. does tabito not want relationships because he doesn't want to set up seriously or just because he's afraid of ruining everything by being mediocre?

Even though you are literally in each other's arms, you feel Karasu light years away from you. The grip he had on your hips a few seconds ago has suddenly diminished, remaining sloppily leaning but not holding them. It took just a few words to destroy the perfect harmony that has existed between you since this strange situation began, and you don't know whether to regret having said them or to still be as convinced as you were until recently. You just know that, now, Karasu is not the same one who was kissing you until a moment ago, with the same usual sweetness

"We should stop. I'm starting to develop feelings for you and I don't want to suffer through something like this"

Words spoken in one breath, but which contained everything, or more, that you felt for the boy who until today has always been your kisser. You said that you started, and not that for months now you have thought only and exclusively of him, that you dream of being able to have a relationship with him, that you would simply like to stop being an ordinary girl and become his girlfriend. But what you dreamed of didn't fit your plan, the one that until now had given you the chance to be so close to him. The plan was simple: just kisses, maybe sooner or later a sexual relationship if you both agreed, but never and ever a relationship

Yet, it seemed so easy to fall in love with him. Karasu is polite, he knows how to joke without being offensive, he has a hobby that he is committed to and has many friends who love him, and he also knows how to treat women. It was impossible for you to understand how a boy like that is best friends with Otoya Eita, the same boy who broke your heart after a relationship that lasted no more than two weeks. You could easily say that the hatred you felt for the ninja turned into love when it came to Tabito.

It all started with this pretext: help me make Otoya regret leaving me, make him understand that I am the best girl he could spend his life with. Betting on his best friend had been a risky choice, but Karasu had accepted. And so, in front of the white and green haired boy, the kisses between you and Karasu had begun their battle against him, who frankly had never paid much attention to you two, only surprised to see Karasu with someone after long time since last time

Almost everyone, even his friends, thought you were a couple. But you both said no, you were just young and a relationship would only hinder the beautiful bond you had. Yet, your goal of making Otoya jealous had turned into nothing in less than a few weeks, while you began to reflect that Karasu was actually a good guy. That, besides the kisses, he also treated you well, and he didn't have the same behavior with girls as he had with you

And so, for a year now, you had begun to think that you loved him seriously, that kisses were not enough for you. It had taken you a year to say the words you had just said to him, and yet you had already regretted it. His face conveyed an all too obvious surprise, untypical for someone like him

"I know you don't want a relationship, so let's end this. It was fun"

You knew he didn't want a relationship, he had made it clear from the start. You had talked about it other times, and his words were always the same. They hurt you, but they were reality

"I don't want a relationship, it would hinder me and my future career as a striker. Professional players never have a steady relationship until they reach an important goal, and I will do the same. After I win, I will look for someone to spend the rest of my life with. But it's not that time yet"

Your heart hurt, your body, everything. It hurt to think that from now on, you would do without him, without his lips on yours and without the good feeling that always existed in your stomach when you knew he was looking at you. You were letting go of something you loved so much, but you knew that by doing so, maybe you would save yourself more future pain

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's all over, I don't want anymore"

You didn't know why he didn't want a relationship, or rather, the explanation he had given you so long ago didn't seem entirely right. Karasu, in your eyes, seemed like someone who needed love so much, who even sought it, but why did he reject it if he had plenty of it, of yours, under his hands?

There was something that told you that he was rejecting love because of a more personal fear, because of something that you had always had before your eyes but had never understood. Something that, you thought, made him very insecure. But what was this insecurity of his if he was so perfect? What he was hiding from you?

Slowly, you pulled away from his grip, which no longer held you to him. Your lowered gaze helped you not to look him in the eyes, because seeing even a shred of sadness would have destroyed you. It was the best choice, but why did it hurt?

"You can't be serious, everything is going great"

"It's precisely because everything is going well that I want to stop. Karasu, I think I seriously love you, kisses are no longer enough for me. But at the same time, I know you don't want a relationship, and I don't want to force you to have one with me. If everything continues to go so well in my mind we will be like boyfriend and girlfriend, while you will continue to think of us as just two friends. And I will suffer from this, because I know myself"

You had to be harsh with your words, even if you didn't really want to be, and especially not with him, who hadn't actually done anything to you. But if you weren't, it would have been even worse

He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship

But really, why?

"You can't just go away and break everything. Don't you think about me?"

Karasu has never been someone who blames things, he has always admitted that he hates those who do it, because he thinks they are mediocre, and he hates mediocre people

"Yes, and it's better for both"

"You don't know what's fucking best for me..."

"Instead, yes. Think of it as if our relationship was a test for what you will have with your future girlfriend"

"I don't even want to think about anyone else other than you"

Karasu wasn't the type to say things like that, especially things that sounded like a declaration of love, and hell, it seemed like one to you. Why did he just say those words if he always reminded you that he doesn't want to think about anything but his career? Is there seriously something he's hiding from you that goes beyond the simple justification he's always given you?

"If you don't think I know what's best for you, tell me. What's best for you, Tabito?"

Maybe you had crossed the line, just maybe

"The best thing for me is to believe that I am enough for you, but I can't be if I am so disgustingly mediocre. Giving you something mediocre, being yours, is something that bothers me, because I never want to see you with something or someone who is not on your level. The thought of you walking away suffocates me, but I know that sooner or later you would realize how much I am not enough. I don't want you Y/n, even if I really do, because you don't deserve shit. Why did you fall in love with someone like me instead, so mediocre?"

So there was actually something in Karasu's thoughts, something that you actually didn't even remotely expect: how could he, so perfect in your eyes, consider himself mediocre?. The excuse of his career was therefore evidently just a bullshit to hide this more intimate side of his, who had fought so hard to hide it from your eyes, who instead saw it with an inhuman perfection

"Mediocre things don't work, they don't make things enjoyable. Settling is not love, and putting yourself in a situation like that would destroy me. I would ruin everything sooner or later, trust me"

You wanted to shut him up, you seriously wanted to. Hearing him talk so badly about himself hurt your heart, since you didn't even remotely have these thoughts about him. Never ever, in your thoughts, had you imagined him ruining everything, he who in situations always tried to resolve in the best possible way. Maybe he wasn't aware of how great it was, how 'mediocre' was the last word in the world to describe it. Maybe he was genuinely insecure about something that didn't actually exist, but was just in his head for some unknown reason

"If you consider me enough for everything, how do you explain the thing that I fell in love with you, that instead you consider yourself mediocre? Don't you think that I fell in love because you are so perfect in my eyes that I don't understand your doubts? Karasu, you have no idea how much you are not even remotely wrong, you are anything but wrong. Falling in love with someone so perfect, who knows how to love but is afraid, is I think one of the most intelligent things I have ever done, and you know that I have done a lot of stupid things in life. But I want to make you aware of how much you are enough, much more than enough. For me you know how to love, you want someone who loves you, but you are afraid. I want to take away this fear from you"

Silently, you had unmasked the mask that Karasu Tabito had so glued to his face: under that self-confident, sometimes even selfish face, there was a boy who was extremely insecure about himself, who was just waiting for someone who could love him without fear of his insecurities. You had destabilized him with your words, you could see it from the way he was slowly destroying himself. Your words were true, and you hoped that by destroying himself he would understand that you meant them

"Suppose I accept your love. Suddenly I do something, I ruin everything"

"I'll try to love you again until everything works perfectly. And in the meantime you learn where you went wrong and you don't do it again, because I know you can do it. To err is human"

You wanted to love him, you wanted him to love himself. And if trying again with him every time meant making him realize that he wasn't as shit as he said he was, you would try again and again

Mediocre was his fear, not he. A human mediocrity, because in reality everyone has fears of this kind; you had some too

"Let yourself be loved, Karasu. Let your dream come true, because I never want to see you sad about something like that"

"If I make a mistake, will you try again? Shall we try again?"

"Until my last breath"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.2 - Blaise Zabini x reader

Blaise, against his will, has to be tutored. However, what seemed like a painful way to spend time at first, gets more pleasant over time. Perhaps even extremely delightful.

fluff but who knows what can happen in the future (here’s pt.1 too) Hopefully i am somewhat feeding the little amount of Blaise fans with this.

Blaise came to you with the biggest grin on his face, as if he just learned how to smile.

“Guess what?”, he asks, as he’s seating himself opposite of you like always during your tutoring sessions.

“You found a million hidden gold galleons?” Given how happy he looked, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that was the case. He looked so energetic too with his big doe eyes and fidgety body movements, that it automatically made you cheerful.

“No, I’m afraid my news is not quite as amazing as that, but nonetheless still pretty awesome”. He inches closer to take a seat next to you.

“Geez, what is it?”

“I got my very first Outstanding on an assignment!”, he finally reveals. He even proudly holds up his paper, shoving it in your face.

“Blaise!”

“I’m so proud of you!”, you exclaim at his achievement. You know he worked so hard to better himself. The past weeks have truly been a statement to what he is capable of, if he just tried.

“Me too.” Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get any bigger, he revealed more of his perfect pearly whites to you. You’ve noticed his ridiculously good looking face before. Seeing him happy for once instead of in an incredibly stressed state made all the difference too.

“So how should we celebrate?”, you ask him. Celebrating his achievement should be good for his long term self esteem. And if it serves you too by allowing you to spend more time with him then so be it.

Not that you’d ever admit it, but being associated with him made you cooler. Not just amongst the people in your year, but younger and older students too. It never hurts to be seen with him, or have him talk you up to his popular friends.

Of course your friendship wasn’t just to improve your image. It was nice to spend time with him. There’s a good amount of similarities, but also differences that made conversations interesting.

He fumbles with his sleeves for a second, drawing your attention to his arms. Perfectly muscular arms. He thinks for a second before he says,

“I don’t know, you decide how we should celebrate.”

“I think I…” Before you remember what you wanted to say, your eyes go from looking him in the eyes to his lips. You don’t know what it was today, that you kept getting distracted. Did he do something different today?

“Seems like you’re the one having a hard time focusing today”

“What? I’m not staring”

“What?”, he shoots you a confused look.

You felt the physical need to facepalm yourself at this moment. What exactly happened? Not that he would he judging you, you think.

Suddenly you thought back to all your tutoring sessions with him. Him, as in the heartthrob of so many girls. And you alone got the privilege to spend so much one on one time with him. It felt weirdly powerful. He must like you. Not just because of the grades and all, but personally too. Right?

“Wait, I forgot I actually have something to attend to”, he sighs. His gaze averts yours for the first time in minutes.

Why did you feel so disappointed at that?

“Well today is your day. Do what you like”. The tone with which you said that probably suggested you were hurt, which is crazy. He didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Some other time though”, he said pushing himself up from his chair at the same time. “See you, and thanks a bunch really. Couldn’t have done this with you.”

Is that all he thought of you then? Just the girl who tutors him. At this point you needed to pump the brakes. Everything is as it always is and was with Blaise. Yet interacting with him today seemed so much more like a challenge. He didn’t ditch you, you tell yourself. He likes you. But what if there was more? Could there be more? Did you actually want more?

…

Dumbass Theodore Nott, Blaise thinks to himself on his way back to his dormitory. Just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants and has to keep banging girls in their shared room, Draco wants to hold a roommates meeting. Why couldn’t he just do it in the bathrooms like everyone else. And Draco was a pain in the ass too. When it’s his girls, it’s fine. But god forbid anyone disturbs his peace.

He grinds his teeth together when thinking about his missed opportunity with you. He could’ve been with you tonight, but no. Those two assholes we’re ruining everything. It’s not like he could just dip. They wanted to come up with a fresh set of rules to ensure a peaceful cohabitation, and of course he has to throw his two cents in. Otherwise it’d be pimp city.

It was the evening already, but god forbid he could’ve spent an hour or two with his cute and smart tutor.

[punderdome]

WIP Whenever!

I haven't actually posted a WIP in a while, so here's a Sunday treato! This will happen sometime in the future.

Infernal Jurisprudence: The Creche

The view over the surrounding lands was exquisite in the dusk.  The sun was rapidly setting as Tavara sat on a wall by a cliff face overlooking the monastery. With a flurry of embers and the smell of sulfur and cherries, Raphael appeared on the cliff side with her.

“Such a beautiful sight, don’t you think?” Raphael offered as he observed the horizon, stepping grandly towards the edge to see the sun fading.  Tavara still sat on a large boulder.  

“It is beautiful,” she offered without any further explanation, and she shifted away from him, seeming hesitant at his presence being so close.

“I can see that you are eager to enter a Githyanki creche, but are you eager to leave in the same state?”  Raphael offered, falsely examining his nails.  He smiled at her with a smug grin.

“What are you getting at, Raphael?” Tav demanded.

Raphael sat on the boulder next to her.  He snapped, and a bottle of wine and two goblets appeared.  He poured two goblets of wine and handed one to her.  Tavara took it reluctantly.

“You know I’m never going to give you my soul,” the Little Mouse protested.  She took a quick sip of his wine before holding the goblet tightly in both of her hands.

“I never thought so, my dear.  I did think you needed a respite from your journey, so here I am to indulge you.”  Raphael drank from his own goblet.  “It is not every mortal that can protect a druid’s grove and survive a long encounter with the various beasts of the Underdark.  Given that your heroics tend to keep you quite busy, I imagine that you are in dire need of relaxation.”  Raphael motioned to the goblet in her hands.

“Why do you keep coming around if not for my soul?  I never thought you to be the kind that tended towards charity,”  The Little Mouse caught his gaze directly with her accusation.

“Alas, dear Mouse, I am not.  Though I am a devil who knows what he wants,” Raphael taunted.  You.  The Crown of Karsus. 

Tavara drank from her goblet while contemplating their conversation.  “What is wrong with the creche, Raphael?” she demanded.

“I’m sure your Gith friend has told you all about the zaith’isk,” Raphael gave a quiet chuckle.  The Gith warrior was obviously bound by covenant to say no more details about the procedure because the she herself knew nothing more about it.

“To purge our infection,” Tavara responded shakily, suddenly seeming to doubt everything that she had been told by the Githyanki.  She is certain to start asking more questions now instead of trusting the propaganda that her Gith colleague had been feeding into her ear.

“Yes, to purge your infection,” Raphael responded.  “Tavara, if I may give you some advice, do not go first.”  Raphael stood up and turned to leave, and his Little Mouse stared at him with her jaw gaping.

“Raphael, what’s going to happen?” she demanded more information.

“Do not go first,” was all that he replied.  He grinned, trusting his Little Mouse understood his instruction.  She was always a clever Little Mouse.

[szottesfolditanyak]

the spirit of trauma

2000 körül, Szamarkand.

"... "Now it's time for you to do the healing work," said Michael.

I had wondered this morning who I was supposed to work with. I didn't see any signs that we were waiting for somebody to come. I looked through the flames to Sulema, and decided it was probably her healing I was supposed to assist in. She smiled, but her smile didn't support my thought.

"It is not Sulema that you need to work for," said Michael, and took his hand off my wrist. That changed my perception slightly, but I still was able to keep the sense of remembering my dream self. "It is Lara you need to heal," he said.

I looked at him, astonished, trying to understand what he meant.

"It is only your mind that needs to give a meaning to what I said. But you already know what I mean because it is a natural continuation of what you have been experiencing these days. She exists in your memory, so through working with your memory you can produce real changes. I told you a few days ago that she is a live person and needs to be healed from the memory demon that took her over. I wasn't mistaken. I knew then that she had killed herself, but I also know that existence doesn't end with physical death. I don't believe it is ever too late to heal."

"But how? How, Michael, can I possibly do that?"

 "What you are about to do, shamans would call walking the soul of the dead. You can call it transpersonal transformation or whatever name makes you less anxious. The process is still going to be the same. The process of transformation will only happen in the reality where internal and external spaces are the same, where there are no longer any mental boundaries separating them. It is not exactly a dream state. It is a particular state which you can enter when your dream space and your memory space are open and clear and you can move through them easily. It will be up to your memory to choose what images to create to generate the healing. Your memory images will be carriers of transformation, but the effect of the changes will extend beyond your personal memory. I am going to watch over you and to help you in moments when you may need it. To make it real, you need to take this drink."

In his hands was that same brown cup Sulema had given me to hold. It now contained a viscous substance like milk mixed with crushed herbs.

"What is it?" Anxiety found its way back into my body. 

"It is not a drug, if this is what you are afraid of. Drugs are one of the tools the spirits of trauma use to keep the hurt in place. We don't use them. It is a special herb that grows near the mountain north of here. Sulema prepared it with milk so it wouldn't be too bitter. The main thing it does is relax your muscles. It keeps you awake while you're dreaming, and at the same time it washes away all the tension knots in your muscles which are the bodily representations of your memory knots. So your memory becomes free for some time, and you are protected from your usual fears so you can experience your memories much more consciously than usual.

"Your experience will take its own special form. But the content of it will not be the main thing that matters. What matters is the process of change. And what matters is the process of finding the memory demon and conquering it to make it serve you and further healing in the future."

He handed me the warm cup, and I took it reluctantly. Then I put it on the ground, fear rippling through my body.

 "Olga, when will you trust me completely?"

I looked at him again, and suddenly a new feeling overwhelmed me. The feeling that I had known him for ages, that his presence was something I knew so well long ago, but forgot, saying it was just a dream. The feeling was so strong, so authentic, that my fear became insignificant. I reached the point where I could trust him with my life.

I took the cup and drank its contents slowly. The creamy, milky taste soothed the bitterness of the herbs. Nothing changed.

The same warm wind was gently touching my skin.

Sulema was still sitting in front of me, putting logs in the fire. I didn't see Michael but acutely felt his presence on my right side. I didn't have any expectations. I was just sitting there, looking at the fire, which soon became the focus of my vision. Only Sulema's face on the other side of the fire was still visible to me. I heard her saying, "We love storytelling here. Can you tell me a story now? Tell me the most puzzling story you know." I thought Sulema asked me that just to help me feel more comfortable, and I was grateful to her for that.

"Now?"

"Sure, why not?"

I thought about her suggestion for a while, and then suddenly the story of Hamlet, a story that had been puzzling me since high school, came suddenly to my mind.

"All right. I know such a story. It has been puzzling me for years, since I never was able to find any final, complete, and unambiguous meaning to it. This story happened long ago.

"There was a prince who lived in a faraway land. His father had died recently. His mother married his uncle and the uncle became the king, and the prince lived in his kingdom. He wasn't a particularly sad prince and he wasn't particularly lonely. He definitely wasn't mad, until one day when everything changed and the prince began to change.

"That day, or more exactly that night, he met the ghost of his dead father, who told him a story of how the reigning king, his own brother, poisoned him to death to get the kingdom and the queen. His father's ghost demanded revenge, and there was no peace left for the prince after he learned that story. He invented a clever trick: he invited wandering actors to perform for the king and the queen with a play the prince had created himself. The play was the story of his father's murder, played out by actors before the prince's mother and his uncle. He saw the proof of guilt in their faces as they watched the play, and then he became truly mad."

"He was killed, right? The prince is killed at the end of the story, right?" Sulema interrupted me without waiting for me to finish.

"Actually, yes, he was. You know the story?"

"That ghost killed him, the ghost of his father." 

"Actually, no..."

"Actually, yes. He started to play by the rules of the ghost. He let the spirit of trauma in, into himself, he allowed the demon to invade his memory with the hurt of his father's death and to become a part of himself. He started acting from the spirit's command, so he had to be killed. He didn't become mad, as you say. He was just fighting the spirit of trauma. He lost, I guess. He didn't have a wife, did he?"

"No. But he had a fiancée with whom he was very tender at first, but then she killed herself because of his rudeness and madness."

"Whoa! Were there more dead people in this story?" 

"Actually, yes. The bride's father and..."

"Oh! A really hungry ghost he was, that father lookalike. That was a good story. The one who wrote it knew about the battle."

Sulema grew silent and her squinting eyes looked straight at me through the fire, as if she was seeing through me. I saw her kind smile through the flames until they rose up again and her face became hidden behind the fire.

I started to feel my bodily sensations change. It felt as if some invisible power penetrated my tensed muscles and untied the old painful knots stored in them. Along with that, I felt my memory was liberating and changing itself into the same substance of which dreams are made, and soon a stream of images was flowing through my mind. They flowed in abundance, but there was no chaos to it; they were connected by an invisible, profound order, and my perception followed this.

The fire kept moving slightly, but its shape now was perfectly round, as if the sun, by a miracle, were burning in front of me in a duplicate of itself. I stared at it for a while, until everything turned red, and the sun disk became black. I closed my eyes and felt how this little sun in front of me was pulsating and approaching me. I tried to stay still -- very, very still -- until I heard the noise, like a gate opening, and Michael said, "Fear nothing and remember that it is the father who punishes and it is the mother who forgives. I will be with you when you need me."

... "

és jön az utazás a másik világban és a gy��gyítás.

Olga Kharitidi -- The Master of Lucid Dreams 2001

[marysunburn]

“What will it become of me?”

So… Azir will have to abdicate.

This is the harsh decision I’d been previously talking about in the Soothsayer section

This isn’t just me pulling even more so from TBSkyen’s playbook – check out his What’s The Deal With Azir if you haven’t – but doing what’s objectively the best thing for everyone, and agreeing is necessary.

The night before he does it he summons all his retainers and friends in a private meeting and tells them that what awaits them will be something that’s never been done before. And like he was told, it will sting like removing a thorn: necessary pain.

From that day forward, his crown will forever be replaced by Taliyah’s handmade coronet.

First, he’s welcomed fine. Well, even. People applaud him and cheer for him and tell him he did the best thing. He’s not even, like, giving up on absolute power to live a soft cottage life on his own (especially since I loathe that trope). He’ll still live in the palace and wield power, just a power that’s shared and earned instead of owed and given.

But once he leaves the dais and goes to his rooms to freshen up… suddenly he’s in tears.

No, why? Why? What’s happening. I did the right thing. I did everything right. Why am I crying? What’s wrong with me stop stop stop I don’t want to cry why am I feeling so bad why…

But deep down he knows why. He threw away everything he ever was – everything he worked for – in exchange for a fairer, yet uncertain future. No more "no god but Azir". No more celebrations. No more tributes and worship. Just an ugly ruined bird body and a mighty enemy who hates him.

And he knows Xerath is probably laughing at him, from wherever he is. So he was right, he's not an Emperor anymore.

Even if for a good cause – he lost everything now.

"My lord? We're about to begin the toasts. Are you..."

Nasus finds him as he sits on his own bedchambers, repurposed and cleaned for a fair rest. He races to him, looking about at his body and around the room. But he knows, more than ever, that most of Azir's tears come from a pain he cannot see.

He put his halberd aside and sits by his side, embracing him in the now familiar motion.

"Oh, baby bird..."

"What will become of me?"

"I..." Nasus cannot speak. He can't leave Azir hanging, but at the same time there's not joy in that truth. And his child has suffered quite enough.

So he just sits there and hugs him.

After a while, with Azir still shedding tears, Sivir finds them too. She sits behind Azir this time and pulls him close. Then Taliyah follows, curling up between his arms and Nasus' and allowing him to hold her as he weeps.

Somehow it's reassuring to see him so distraught. That means the sacrifice was there, the choice was indeed hard, and they can count on him as a guardian even if he's not a god on earth.

But after growing to like him, after knowing what he went through up to that point, those tears sting them too.

After his tears have expired, Azir stands up, wipes his face and kisses each one's forehead.

"I don't know what happened, I just... I couldn't hold back"

"Is your choice done?", Nasus asks. Azir gives him a distant nod. "Like removing a thorn, is it not? Heh..."

"Have a drink," Sivir says. "Relax for the night. Just celebrate like all of us. I've learned that if you worry too much you end up empty-handed. And we don't want that, don't we Azir?"

"She's right. You deserve a night of fun. Maybe it'll help you find your way as it did me".

Taliyah holds him by the hand and gently leads him back to the hall where everybody is celebrating on the newly risen People's Republic of Shurima. Mercenaries and merchants, commoners and bourgeoisie, naasaj and Nazumah, old loyalists and new friends, some old and most young. Even Renekton, in the isolated temple where he's been put to rehabilitate, was brought some of the foods and a small drink. Just one day ago he allowed Azir to touch his face. Your hand is so soft, he said.

Was it not unsafe, he almost wishes Xerath could see it. Another loss for him, and a win for them all.

He watches as specialties from all around the land are brought in, different wines are mixed together; as Taliyah's young friends show off their sails to K'Sante's ex beloved Tope, General Adanna twirls in her beautiful dress as Samira and Akshan clap, and the same Soothsayer who foretold this same event laughs as Raz Bloodmane fills his mouth with grapes until it bursts. She probably saw that too.

So let us dance, let us applaud, let us be one. Tomorrow we'll think of the future – plans for battle, shelter, music and art, and Azir's own new masterpiece: a state home for orphans called House of Imani.

I was wrong. I did not lose everything after all.

[esta-elavaris]

oh i am SO on this. 13 (i'd love to know what character you most want to write for in the future!), 14 and 15 :D

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day? I'd love to write some Game of Thrones stuff one day (Sandor Clegane or Bronn, probably) but god that's a fucking undertaking. Good news is it'll be a sensible 15.6 years before I can reasonably start another new thing so it gives me time to have a think 🫠

Doesn't help that the idea I have for a Bronn fic is one I'm not even sure I came up with - I have a hunch what I'm the idea I'm thinking of is actually a memory of a Bronn fic I read years ago as a teen, so I'd need to comb through EVERYTHING I can find to make sure that's not the case before I begin, because I refuse to begin without doing that, and even then if I found nothing I'd be worried that I just missed whatever story the idea came from, and uhhhh fuck that. But it's good to have something holding me back from my Fic Aquirement Sickness 😭

I'd also love to write a Phantom of the Opera fic one day. I doubt I could bring anything original to the fandom but I mean, I have the same fear with the Dracula fic and folk are still enjoying it for what it is!

14. Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind? It wasn't that long ago on this blog where I was furiously insisting to people that I would never write a Boromir fic, I wouldn't put the stress of tackling Tolkien upon myself, it was too much to attempt, there was no chance.

Anyway, HWFG just cleared the 120k word mark 🤡 (and I'm very grateful to the people who talked me into it!!)

There are other smaller fandoms that I always thought I'd never bother with just because they're so small that I didn't think anybody would read them, but you guys are proving that fear wrong and making my day CONSTANTLY with your willingness to follow me into some truly random bs 💜💜💜💜💜

15. Have you noticed your style change over time?

Absolutely!! Little By Little is my oldest fic that I don't hate, and even then the growing pains within that make me cringe a little (CTW followed it, and that's the earliest one that I still like! It marked the end of me finishing a project and immediately hating it) -- the early chapters in particular are plagued by way too much introspection (listen, I'm an overthinker, I have no concept of how much thinking is too much thinking in general).

It does also change between projects, though, I think, because I try to match the "tone" of the source material to some extent.

I also think it's really cool because most of LBL was written when I began writing daily as a rule, and that's when you really see quick and substantial improvements in my ability, so it's been a great way to measure it all!

Novel work is trickier because I get so nervous when I write it that it impacts the quality, so it's less of a linear thing and more dependent on how I feel on any given day. It's wild going back to chapters I wrote when I was worried about it and editing it from a calm mindset so that it's actually good. That whole process is most of why it's taking me so long 💀. When I finished my first draft and went back to the beginning to read (it was all done by hand, so it was a long time after I'd written the first chapter) I noticed that the first chapter was so bad and then suddenly it just? Got decent? When I found my rhythm and got over the nerves, mostly? That was a nice moment. I promptly worried the pal I was living with at the time by walking laps around her living room because I couldn't believe that it was good and I was too excited to sit down. Good times 😭

Thank you!!! 💜

Fanfic ask game

[fuckyeaharthuriana]

The Winter King episode 1

First of all I need to add this small warning premise: I read Bernard Cornwell's novels so far ago, and I have been too in the grasp of my adhd to be able to focus on much, so rereading them would be impossible for me at the moment.

I guess this means I will talk about the show from a "ignorant" perspective, without talking too much about the differences between the novel and the actual show. I will judge it for what it is, ignoring that it is part of an adaptation.

Still, I remember a little, so I can confirm that the show starts the same way. Arthur is a bastard, when his father accuses him of having caused the heir's death, he is exiled, thanks to Merlin's intervention. There is also Arthur's sister (no name yet) who pleaded for mercy. Arthur saves a young Derfel and then we are jumped in a timeskip.

The rest of the episode sees some vague establishing of what "the gods" are and Avalon is. It is not clear at all, just the usual "we follow the GODS" (which gods?? who knows). Derfel is not a young adult, and he is in love with Nimue - who suddenly has to choose between the gods and that guy.

It is all very dramatic, she cannot "deny her past", but given we had known these characters for less than 20 minutes, it all falls flat. The episode RUNS, runs like the wind, trying to introduce all the possible plots around Derfel. I barely had the time to breath and understand what main plot the episode was trying to establish, the truth being that I still don't know.

I fully believe it would have simply been better to start directly with Derfel, sees him as a kid, let us know him in the classic way "past-family-what he went through" and then see Arthur save him, and introduce his conflict between wanting to stay at Avalon and wanting to be a warrior, just like Arthur.

The plot instead rolls and rolls - suddenly Queen Norwenna is in labour, Merlin and Morgana rush to her side - and for some reason they ask Derfel to come for the extra help (what extra help is not clear). Merlin has a horrible vision of the future when he holds the baby. Uther is happy to have a new son, but Merlin warns him that the child has a twisted foot and a twisted nature (?? the need to offer both at the same time... weird, very weird). Merlin says he saw the end of the whole of Britan in this kid, but Uther ignores him and cuddles the baby.

I know we are supposed to root for Merlin, and see that Uther is foolish for accepting this baby and not Arthur, his other son, but the truth is - the baby is a baby. I don't think the tv show convey the danger, or managed to get me on the side of Merlin because that baby is so SMALL? and innocent? And the show is so fast we never had the chance to trust Merlin, to see him struggle or actually care for Britain, we do not know much of what he cares for (the vague gods).

Suddenly - so fast - Merlin leaves for Arthur, and Derfel says he is gonna stay there while Nimue goes to Avalon. Derfel found a job (in the span of a night?? few days??) and decided (after a nightmare/flashback) to want to become a warrior. The sad music almost made me laugh, I have to be honest, while looking at Derfel leave Nimue behind, as the show spends zero attempts in trying to making us invested in their relationship.

Also I cannot really judge actors, I am not that good at catching who is a good actor or not, but I could barely hear what Nimue was saying, she always seemed almost drunk.

Luckily, among all characters, Derfel seemed to have the best actor to be able to do quite a lot with little. He had a boyish naive quality that made me believe he DID find work overnight, and he did decide to become a warrior just because Arthur told him. I will definitely try to continue watching, as I am curious to see how they are going to make this Derfel into the Derfel I vaguely remember form the books.

Other positive comments I have for the show would mainly be about how well it convey the arthurian feelings of a historial novel like Bernard Cornwell's. I cannot speak about how historically accurate the clothes, weapons and buildings are, but for an untrained eye like mine they all did a lot to world-build, to give me the idea of a prosperous kingdom on the verge of wars.

[msfcatlover]

OKAY THIS IS A BIG ONE, just answer the ones you want to :D

DC (preferably Batman or Green Arrow or Superfam but actually everything) - games, comics, movies, books, fandom

what is your (can be more than one each category):

favourite fan AU

favourite headcanon

favourite female character

favourite male character

favourite comic

favourite canon AU (you know all these Future State and Kingdom Come and Injustice and Arkham verse and all that!!!)

favourite ship (IF you have one, otherwise the ones you can tolerate)

favourite death (if the character died more than in one universe or more than once, specify which death)

favourite powerset

favourite resurrection (LOL, same with #8)

favourite AU villain/antagonist (those who aren't villains but you imagine would be cool villains in your opinion)

favourite canon villan/antagonist (if characters like Jason or Talia then specify which plotlines/comics)

favourite DC loser.

sorry for bad English!!!! have a good day/night

Oh boy, that’s… that’s actually really hard for me. I have a hard time picking favorites, because I generally love things for very different reasons. I know much more clearly what I dislike when I see it; enjoying things is sorta my default state, y’know?

Like, take the AU question. I’d be hard pressed to tell you whether a good Reverse Robins setup was something I liked better than, say, @jube-art’s Superfam/Batfam role-swap (which, if you haven’t seen it, go check it out!)

I’m also working my way through canon chronologically, and am still in the early/mid-90s, so there’s a lot of characters I haven’t officially gotten to, and a lot of stories I haven’t gotten the chance to really dig into yet. (I made it to Knightfall, realized I hadn’t put any of the buildup to that arc in my comic library, and decided to go back and read Barbara’s time with the Suicide Squad instead.) I don’t feel comfortable planting a flag on this until… oh, at least until ~2006, probably. (Which, given just how many books/characters suddenly got added in the 90s, will probably take a while.)

(There are also lots of characters who have so much potential in their backstory/power set, but who never got to use them to their full potential. Or who only had the cool parts of their backstory tacked on as an obvious retcon in the process of writing them out of the story, because the fans were vocally upset about them, meaning they never got the exploration any of those story ideas deserved.) (I have a special level of ire for power sets that are really cool on a surface level, but where the creators added just one power too many to stop them from being fully interesting. For example, Menagerie’s bugs having mind control properties overcomplicates her too much, in my opinion. Or—if you’ll let me hop over to Marvel—a character like Alpha who has all the “standard” superpowers, but only one at a time? What makes that interesting is having to choose between being super-strong or invulnerable or super-fast (etc.) therefore this character should not have ranged attack options built into said power set; it disincentivizes him from ever getting up-close with enemies, forcing the writer to choose between having the character be stupid or having the character never use the interesting elements of their powers. (…I mean, Alpha being stupid is kinda the point of his plot, but you see what I’m getting at, right?))

I will say, I adored Jason’s post-Crisis Robin run (in both Batman series, though for very different reasons) and so far very little has brought me as much joy as reading DC’s Detective Comics from that time period! And those few pages of Dan Mora’s B&W cyberpunk short that went around recently had me absolutely frothing with excitement for the possibilities that verse holds. And Jason being Tim’s Robin brings me endless joy, which neither canon nor jerkfaces will take from me.

(Aaaaaaaand while shipping isn’t the catharsis I come to comics for (thank gods, basically every canon ship I’ve witnessed thus far has been awful in motion even when their potential is off the charts,) I can actually blame DCEU SuperBat for getting me into this whole mess in the first place. Blame @susiecarter, whose fics I found immediately after watching someone do a deep-dive analysis of everything that went wrong with BvS, which I paused when I thought, “Huh, these are actually all really good points… I bet fanfiction has done this exact story, but with much better execution, recognizable characterization, and probably a hell of a lot gayer. Let’s go check.”)

[fumikomiyasaki]

🍼 with Carol and the poly or Utau and Mellow

We are having a baby

A bit drowsy she woke up in the arms of James and Metaron, sandwiched a little after all she spend the night with them, smoothly she tried to slide out of their arms... its been like this for a ton of days, sometimes Elias joined them but they been trying for a while so she can have a baby... and often she just marched out when she had a good feeling in did the test. This morning she noticed her body seeming a bit off so she went as usual into the bathroom to check. Rubbing her tired eyes as she suddenly noticed it... a positive... She suddenly squeeled by accident out of happiness. Accidentally waking James and Metaron out their sleep as she rushed out dressed up again.

"So whats the news?"

She smiled at them both and held up the test.

"We finally have a new member to the family soon."

Both got up quickly and pulled her in a hug, Elias overheard the noises and joined them quickly from the other room, holding her yet he also brought up a valid question.

"So who do you think was it?"

"I did." "I am." A response James and Metaron gave at the same time... true they would both be the most plausible given they spend the night with her the most at the same time... yet Carol looked at them with a sigh.

"We can make a test once the doctor looks at it, I am just happy about it at all. I need to write down some names plan some stuff-"

As she rambled suddenly she felt a bit weaker and Metaron catched her fall.

"You will rest for now, We will take care of things."

"Fine.. but I still want to write down at least a little bit of things."

The three smiled brightly at her... as they all thought about the little wonder that was awaiting them... weeks passed and they could go to the doctor to check up on who was the father... and after some time it was set that it was Metaron, James next to him looking a bit grumbly.

"Mad I was faster, grow up."

"Thats not it I..."

Yet as Carol walked up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek, things were less bad... maybe he had another chance in the future to be the father himself as well.

"Please, I care about you both dearly.. it wouldn't have mattered who was first... all that matters is.... we can finally be a true family together... we finally have a child of our own."

Even if he didn't like this smug Smile Metaron had at him at first James pulled an arm around her and smiled.

"Then it seems first we need a house with more space together... lets plan everything together back home."

Metaron got closer as well putting a hand on her stomach and Elias went to kiss her hand as well... being surrounded by them all she felt assured and ready for whats to come... and she couldn't wait to meet that child of her own.

On that day he came back from work to a some what different atmosphere... a box was placed on the table as Utau waited for him. He walked up to her and placed a kiss on her forehead, putting down his work clothing over the chair and sat down next to her.

"Um... M-Mellow... I have a gift for you, would you open it?"

"Sure but... you seem sick, is everything good?"

"I am fine, don't worry. Just o-open it please."

He was confused to say the least.... as he opened the box however he found small stuffed Rabbit with a note on it.

'We will be having a cute little monster rabbit together.'

Mellow eyes widdened, suddenly bursting into tears of happiness and pulling her in a warm embrace carefully.

"I-its really true?"

"You are going to be a father, yes."

"I am so happy you don't know.... finally a family of our own... i just... "

"I know... I am sure... y-your father and mom would be happy to see you like this."

Mellow whiped his tears and nodded.

"I will promise to make you as happy and smiling as my father did with his mom... and... I make sure my child won't suffer the same loss and lack of control."

He held her hands while making this promise as she smiled at him... he knew things aren't easy... especially for a part monster child but... he knew he would do everything to make this happy future a possibility. In doubt he could ask Leroy for help.

[livvywritesworld]

A Fist in the Mouth | Overview & Analysis

For those who don’t know, I am a creative writing student in my first year of university. In my introduction to creative writing class this semester, I wrote a short story called ‘A Fist in the Mouth’ for our fiction unit. After a couple rounds of editing, I submitted this piece to my university’s literary magazine and was later accepted for publication.

This is my first ever publication acceptance so of course this story holds such a special place in my heart now, and I thought I might make a post about it just kind of sharing a couple of snippets and some of the inspiration and thought I put behind the story as a whole.

(please let it be known that I retain all rights to my original work and no plagiarism will be tolerated)

excerpts and analysis under the cut

‘A Fist in the Mouth’ began as a way for me to kind of reintroduce myself to short fiction after a period of not having written anything at all due to some health issues. I had all of these ideas for the short fiction piece that I needed to write for class and none of them were working out how I wanted them to while still fitting within the word limit. So, I decided to discovery write something while listening to one of my many Spotify playlists just to kind of get in the groove of writing once more and really just see what would happen.

As I was writing, the song “Modern Girl” by Sleater-Kinney came on shuffle and for those of you who have never heard the song, there’s a repeating lyric, “hunger makes me a modern girl.” This really sparked some inspiration in me and all of a sudden I was writing about a teenage runaway come riot grrrl serial concert goer experiencing the horrors of girlhood and ambition. 

‘A Fist in the Mouth’ begins like this:

There’s a difference between running from and running to. When I left home, I thought I was running towards. I didn’t think of it as me leaving my parents’ oppressive religious household, though that was a fact that I readily acknowledged as a girl. I only ever thought of it as me, freshly eighteen, running full speed at a future I thought I deserved. A future I knew never would have found me if I’d stayed in that town, in that house, with those people, spending my days on my knees praying to a god that didn’t see me as deserving of anything more than I’d already been given.

Now, I think all I was doing was running away from every facet of my life. I didn’t feel the same way about God as the rest of my family, was scared to death of them looking at me one day and suddenly seeing all of me. Back then, I felt like I didn’t have any other choice. And I probably didn’t.

The narrator is kind of inspired by the character Maxine in the film ‘X,’ which I had watched a couple of weeks before writing the story, as well as Ethel Cain’s discography. I really wanted to write from the perspective of a teenage girl fleeing a very religious household (religious trauma for the win) because she wants more out of life than what her parents have laid out for her.

As we move through the story and see how the narrator interacts with the 90s Seattle grunge & punk scene, we are introduced to the narrator’s insatiable hunger (her ambition, queerness, and dedicated yearning). I use a lot of motifs throughout the beginning and middle of the text to try and recreate this feeling for the reader.

I was nineteen and my presence felt both excessive and non-existent. I wasn’t eating as much as I should’ve been, couldn’t really afford three meals a day. Most of my money went towards rent and bills, any real food I got would be leftovers from the diner. The cook was a bit sweet on me, so he’d make me a sandwich every day, free of charge, whatever kind I wanted.

The thing was though, even if I did get enough to eat, I still never felt full. I’d look in the mirror and my mouth would be this gaping cavern, something that didn’t fit on my face. It didn’t matter how old I was, how much life I did or didn’t experience— in the mirror smiling back at me was a gape-toothed girl looking to swallow the whole world if given the chance.

Then, we meet the character of Magdalene Williams, who is the only character in the story that I’ve named. The inspiration for Magdalene was definitely Mary Magdalene— I kind of wanted this holy-like figure to come into the narrator’s life and really give her a taste of the life that she craves for herself.

Magdalene invites the narrator to an all non-men punk show on the edge of Seattle and the narrator feels her hunger clawing up out of her stomach and demanding to go. She is inherently drawn to Magdalene and has no idea why. So she accepts the invitation. 

The story kind of unravels from there, and we end with Magdalene coming onstage with her band and giving The Performance of a Lifetime and generally really disturbing the narrator. The narrator knows that something Is Not Right here, she’s been very active in the scene for the last year and has never heard of Magdalene yet the entire crowd is going wild over her, and once Magdalene starts singing she immediately knows that something is wrong. And yet. She just can’t look away.

In Magdalene, the narrator sees everything that she wants, everything that she is so hungry for, and it terrifies her. She’s also a little jealous, and a little horny but very much in a prophet/faithhealer x devotee kind of way. 

I wrote the entire story in past tense because I really wanted it to have a sort of confessional vibe, to really keep in tone with the religious themes and imagery. My professor suggested after workshop that I might try it in present tense but it just was not working. During our class workshop however, everyone said that they liked the choice of past tense because it was almost like the narrator was telling us, the reader, that she experienced such an intense period of wanting in her life and still made it out in the end.

I don’t know if it’s too much to share on here like word count-wise, but the last few paragraphs of the story are my absolute favorites and I’m so proud of them. They’ve remained mostly unchanged in my various rounds of edits and I’m so impressed with myself for being able to write like this after having literally not written anything substantial in around six months.

Before I left home, my whole life was like a sepia photograph of a sunny day. Over-exposed, parents with smiling faces and sons with square jaws, daughters with ribbons in their hair. Wooden crosses on the walls, simple and unornate because God doesn’t need to be loved in gold foil. Grass stains on white tights, Sunday kitten heels scuffed from being worn so often, deodorant powder refusing to wash off the baby pink dress Mama thought looked so nice with my brown eyes.

There’s a difference between running from and running to. At eighteen, I was running towards something. I’msure of that. I don’t think I ever had an idea of what that something was, or what I even wanted it to be, but I did know that I didn’t want to be some televangelist’s golden daughter proffered up to God like Icarus was to the sun.

I noticed things about myself the way my family noticed things about God and religion and theology. Studied myself in mirrors, in the dark, in the depths of my own mind. I noticed everything and remembered nothing. Blood never started to fill my mouth until I surrounded myself with idolatry of a different kind, the screams sounded too much like mine.

At nineteen, I was running from. That night, hunger attacked every fiber of my being, ate away at my organs, left behind teeth marks and blood. I saw that hunger reflected in Magdalene, her mouth an open wound as she screamed out her lyrics. I wasn’t scared, though. There’s nothing scary about hunger, what’s scary is the response hunger elicits from other people.

This, I noticed. All in real time. Learned it of myself.

I watched the crowd feed Magdalene, and consequently devour her whole. Sanctify her living and alive, right before my eyes. And I never wanted anything more than I did then. I craved it, would’ve let hordes of women and girls crucify me where I stood just to be in Magdalene’s position. She never could’ve been full, not with the way she sang, but at least she was well fed. Oh how I wanted to be kept in excess.

Have learned to become my own number one fan lol

[milomilesmib]

Please Live

Created by milomilesmib on Tumblr

Warnings and such: angst, blood, but otherwise it's meant to be kind of touching? Idk

Around 1000 words, both characters are unnamed. Feel free to self-insert if you want, though they do use kind of an old way of talking. Best read with sad music in the background. First person, present tense.

------------

“Please do not leave me, not until I am fully gone.”

The fact that he feels the need to look into the eyes that he has stared at for hours on end, my eyes, and ask for me to stay with him; it forces upon me a feeling akin to a dagger to the heart. Had I not stayed beside him through worse? Have I not proven that all I want is to be by his side?

“I will not leave you,” I promise him as I try to gather my strength, praying that I do not cry during the final conversation I have with him. His blood stains my clothes, and I know with a certainty that I will keep those stains. They will not be scrubbed out or covered up, not for as long as I have anything to do with it.

The first time I had looked into his eyes, his irises the same colour as the amber that binds ancient creatures stuck in time, I looked at them with terror and with hatred. At the time, I only observed the judgement in his eyes, but now, holding my gaze, I see that he has the eyes of a lover, a father, a protector… If only I knew sooner that he needed someone to protect him in return.

“The stars.” He points to them with great difficulty, a difficulty brought on by pain and blood loss. He reaches for the silver pinpricks in the sky, and I look to the space where he points, suddenly reminded that I need to have this last lighthearted conversation with him. I hear him laugh as his head rests in my lap, staring at the sky. “Aren't they gorgeous?”

Nothing feels beautiful in this moment, not when the most remarkable beauty of my life is fading in my hands, not when the future holds only strife and pain, not when the past is full of infuriating blemishes.

“They do not compare…” with a crackling cough, blood spurts from his mouth. I reach to wipe the blood away, but he catches my wrist, insisting still that I do not needlessly dirty my hands. His hand trails into mine, intertwining our fingers. “They do not compare to you, my dearest. Not to flow of your clever words, not to the beauty of your fearless soul.”

“I have many fears,” I correct him, looking back at his pale, sweating face. I had tried to hold my sobs in my throat, to be strong for him in his final moments, but now, I find my tears falling on him like the gentle patter of rain. “One of them is coming true as we speak.”

He grants me a smile, brave yet weak, too weak for my heart to bear. “You have always been one for clever words.” He likes giving me these kinds of compliments, touching words that can never be mimicked or replaced. I ache to think that this may be the last time I hear one of his loving compliments.

“Tell me what I am to do when you are gone.” It is a struggle for me to even speak. “I am afraid I would simply weep for eternity if not given instruction.”

This makes him laugh, and if he was not dying, I would have given him a look so venomous, yet not venomous enough to stop his incessant guffaw. I want him to keep laughing as I hold him. I want him to rise from where he lies, and I want him to stay by my side forevermore.

“If you had not done it already, I would have told you to slay the man who had driven a spear through me, but, since that is out of the way…” his hand squeezes mine, followed by a gentle caress. My tears feel like a storm, and he reaches to hold my face, but he is far too weak to even lift his hands. We do not have much time left. “It feels a crime to give commands to a shining star such as yourself, so weep, my dearest, if that is what you need. Weep for as long as you would like. Weep for eternity, if you must.”

“I have never felt so scared,” I admit. I cannot tell which of us is shaking more. His voice is soft, softer than I have heard it in years, and his hands softer, though sticky with blood. “I need you. I cannot live without you.”

“You must.” He reaches for the spear in his stomach, placed in such a way that he might have a few more minutes with me, but those minutes are disappearing like clouds of breath in the cold. “It is my final wish. Live, no matter how reluctantly. See the world in all its beauty, listen to every song, live the life you wanted to live.”

“You do not understand.” I feel my voice go weak with emotion, and I begin to wish I was slipping into death with him. I take his hand, refusing to let him pull the spear out. It will make no difference; he is practically dead already. “That life would only work with you in it.”

“Then it was never a life worth living,” he declares, and I know he is not trying to put himself down, but rather soothe the ache of my grief. “Life does not have constants. Things will change, always, no matter how slowly, and that is something you must come to terms with, my shining star.”

“I cannot bear this change,” I plead through tears.

“Please, my dearest love,” he only begs in return, and I cannot bring myself to ignore his dying wish. “Please, for me. Live.”

With that, his body goes still, and I am left completely alone with nothing left to do but live.

[sockpuppethistorian]

mourning the life I thought I’d have: part 1- common life paths

Ugh! So I’m aroace.

yeah, yeah, we know this. And more important, I know this.

I think I’ve known it for a lot longer than I like to acknowledge, in fact.

Anyway… I am constantly going through this cyclical process of being okay and settled and relieved to identify as aroace (in my own mind!! labels are to help understand yourself not to help others put you into a box)… and then suddenly being really sad and melancholy and lonely when imagine what the rest of my life is going to look like and how it’s going to differ from pretty much everyone else in my life, in the media… in the world.

And I thought, perhaps I will begin a little self-led series of mourning, and hopefully some forgiveness and lightheartedness for myself.

I think quite honestly one of the biggest struggles for me is seeing the rest of my friends navigating new milestones and continuing on life paths that simply are not ones I will be taking, regardless of what I would have wanted or expected for myself.

It has occurred to me that as kids, the playing field is SOOOO leveled in many senses (and not, in many others, but that’s a story for a different day). Everyone has had pretty similar experiences in regard to milestones and expectations: learn to speak, learn to walk, learn to write, learn to read. Parallel play, play with a friend, develop a best friend. Learn sports, start kindergarten, develop imaginations and the ability and skill required for playing board games or baking or feeding pets. We’re all in that same little boat.

Sure, there’s still people behind and ahead. But I think the margins are much closer together, or at least there’s more of an understanding (at least from my personal experience).

Think of it all like this:

You're a kid. You have friends, playdates, some friends have more in common with you than others, but you all have that little kid common understanding that kids have.

Then middle school hits. And suddenly kids are wanting to “date” each other (which seemed ridiculous to you, given that you are twelve and the only possible way to “date” was to hold hands in the hallway). You suddenly are feeling so outside of this experience, outside of the cluster of preteens wanting to rip out the posters of teen male actors from J-14 to hang up in their lockers, or screaming in the movie theater when Jacob took off his shirt in Twilight (which you literally eye rolled at).

But you think there’s still enough newness to crushes and dating that it’s still fine to be behind. You don’t stick out too much yet.

So then there’s high school. Where everyone— literally everyone— is dating someone, or liking someone, or hoping someone asks them out, or refusing to make plans to go with friends to a dance with the hopes that they end up getting a particular person to invite them. This is more scary. This is more isolating, and it’s still sort of easy to tell yourself that you’re a late bloomer… or perhaps too mature to deal with the silly chaos that is the high school dating scene. In fact, your friends who are navigating dating for the first time begin to refer to you as the Relationship Expert. The one who somehow inexplicably gives the best advice.

You think around this time that maybe you are different and begin to feel afraid of what the future would look like. But so far, nobody's paths had veered too much or were so far gone that you had become an alien, or a piece of childhood left behind (which is what you ultimately feel you became-- a reminder of what your friends were before love and sexuality came to the forefront).

College is really where, looking back, the differences were apparent. You knew you were different, but had no desire to change it and couldn't even fathom finding the time. When you were in college, you took classes, joined clubs, hung out with your friends, got an on-campus job. It did not even occur to you to try to add anything else to this, and it baffled you that so many people who were stressed about classes or club responsibilities or also be trying to find time to date people, or would be going to parties to try to find hookups. Not being interested in dating culture whatsoever allowed for you to very easily have zero interest in drinking or smoking or quite honestly partying of any kind. It was a case of you not knowing what you was missing, quite frankly-- and it was a few years into school before it came to your attention at all that the way you were navigating your college years looked quite different from most others.

But even with all that, college was so chaotic and messy and all over the place that it still didn't feel like you were in a place of being left behind all the way. The glaringly obvious milestones and parts of life that you were missing were present but hidden by the craziness of college. Not going on dates or having any partners, not having sex or hooking up, not needing to talk about birth control or safe sex or buying condoms from the on-campus store.

It's now, in post-grad life, that it feels suddenly even more like you're seeing the way everyone's lives are all beginning to go down different paths, and yours does not align with anyone else's or even your own expectation.

People you're friends with are in long term relationships. They're moving in with their partners and talking about lifelong plans. Some of your friends are married. A few even have B A B I E S. Absolutely mind-blowing.

And now you're not there with them. You begin to fear your own relevance in their lives. How will you relate to your peers once they're all married with kids and you're still in the same place that they all moved on from years ago? You're socially the equivalent of a sheltered twenty-two year old. Independent but almost to a fault. What will happen when they're seeking out couples for double dates, or mom friends for playdates or friends who understand and can join in with commiserating about marriage and parenthood?

What happens when you no longer have any of the same life milestones? What does that even look like?

It feels like being left behind, like being trapped behind a piece of glass while everyone else keeps on going forward on the paths they expected to go on, even if the timeline isn't at the exact ages or years or points that they thought they would be at. Yet for you, it's more that the path you're taking is covered in trees and branches and dirt, barely visible and impossible to see through. Where does it go? Is there any points along the way to reach? Milestones to celebrate? Is there anybody at the end even paving the way or are you supposed to barrel forward with the cement roller?

...

So that's where I'm at. I know I'll be okay, but I wish I knew that me and my friends could have something together again, like when we all first started middle school or high school together, or when we all took SATs or got our first jobs. I can't follow them where they're going.

And I can't shake the feeling of being left behind.

But I will be okay!!! I WILL BE OKAY!!! Just gotta say it to shake off all the other feelings because it's true: I WILL BE OKAY.

[gerrbarrkmania17]

this is the sanest I’ve felt but I feel crazy at the same time.

I’m sorry but I can’t be what you want. I can only be what I am becoming.

I’m not here to please you. Come through my place of work with negative energy.. I just wish I could get away from you sooner.

I don’t hate you guys. I don’t feel comfortable with you anymore because I have changed.

Maybe it seems really sudden to you. Maybe you suddenly feel angry that I am different. Do you feel comfortable villainizing me because I have boundaries ?

Have you ever wondered that it’s not just became of you, because nothing is. Everything is a mixture.

I’ve been holding on for so long. I’m ready to let go of some things. I don’t even talk to my therapist anymore because it wasn’t helping anymore.

I don’t feel like the person any of you know anymore. I’m not NOT Greg… but Greg has been unsure for awhile.

This year made me question a lot

I’m tired

The level I’m on is quiet

I want to be simple

This is for me and I’m sorry but not everything is going to be what you want

I am not what you need. I am enough for me and no one else.

I don’t feel like I can be myself.

With you anymore

I never told you about the serious stalking crisis I had because I felt too ashamed

Nothing feels safe anymore

I feel safe with me.

I have thought about this for so long. I spent time scrolling through channels to keep up with everything going on and trying to be at events; but things just never worked out

I couldn’t go to the parties, I wanted to but it happened so much it was weird for me to be there

Everyone is already so close right?

I have become used to being disposable. I am not surprised by this happening

I can’t keep living on this old skin

You say you do care about me and I know you do, I don’t doubt it at all../gen

But do I really feel like one of you?

I haven’t been one of you for a long time, if you haven’t noticed

This almost feels like an admission of evil.. it feels wrong to say how I’ve felt

Maybe you view it as one because you don’t really know me

You never did, I never allowed YOU to know me.

My shield has never come down around you, and that’s for a reason.

It’s very odd what you are doing, I am not scared of your truck

The way you talk… I know myself, yet my sense of doubt, my ability to acknowledge my wrongdoings still goes off. I wanted to see neutrality and stars

Leave me alone please

I know I wanted to delete an app and I know the future is undetermined ..

Don’t demand answers I don’t have

I don’t know why I am who I am. I am not wrong for being this way. I seek solutions. I managed to be your friend for this year and others… let me go

I don’t know everything

I can’t express to any of you who I am

I’m Greg, a flawed person.

You have each other. Live without me.

Don’t make me seem sad or angry in your head because I’m not

I don’t know how to describe what I feel

Don’t demand explanations after I’ve given so many.

Growth isn’t always pleasant

I can’t be what you what because that not me anymore.

I was for awhile and it was real I was that person but I am not anymore

I’ve never felt like a version of Greg that is true. Shaped by what my environment demanded and what I could hide

I don’t need to convince people that I’m not evil, I know who I am and I’m tired of feeling like I need to justify that.

Maybe you liked me at that point because I was lower to the ground, comfortably chained down.

I can’t do that anymore

This feels selfish because it is… this is for the self and no one else.

I am being selfish.

I choose me.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

When I was seventeen, I met a girl and fell in love. She loved me too, but her family was deeply homophobic and had made her feel ashamed of any love that wasn't for a man. We were together for one beautiful year of promises, romance, and planning of our future before her parents found out I'd given her my high school's Senior ring as a promise we'd get married someday.

Suddenly I stopped hearing from here. I was terrified, panicked, imagining every scary thing I could think of. And two weeks later I get the call. We can't be together anymore. My parents know. They're holding college over my head, and I'm not sure I even want this. It was fun, but being away from you, the intensity fades away, and I can imagine life without you.

I couldn't.

I felt like my life was over. At 17. So I lived my life like it was. I did whatever I wanted, I was reckless and careless with myself and my feelings, and I ran around chasing what felt like good times because at least I wasn't thinking about her anymore.

And then one day I meet this woman. She's wearing a purple shirt and a smile that glows like the sun and I think to myself, she seems like a fun person to waste some hours with. And she is! We laugh and smile, we go out dancing and we stay up all night talking. A whole lifetime passes in six months and suddenly it hits me. I love this woman. And it makes me so angry. Because how could I move on from that first great love? How could I forget what it meant to me and love someone else? How could I just....be happy again?

So I stop texting, and I cry in my dorm room for hours, and wouldn't you know it this wonderful woman with the golden smile shows up at my door and begs me to tell her what's wrong, and then she HOLDS ME while I sob and tell her all about this amazing girl who ran away from me and she says "I would never croticize someone you love, but if she gave you up, that's on her." And she just sits with me, and lets me be sad and mad and in love and hurting and all the things I am, and she loves me anyway.

It's ten years later now and that woman with the golden smile has been my wife for seven of them. We've been through good times and bad, laughter and tears, happiness and hurt, and through it all the one thing that has stayed the same is that we have chosen each other again and again and we do the work to make that choice worthwhile for each of us.

First loves are powerful and you may well carry a part of them in you forever. But there will always be love that chooses you back, every time. It's okay if you get to enjoy a few loves, and wrestle with a few heartbreaks, before you find that.

Hello Mr. gaiman, I need your help, but there's a high chance that you won't see this,

but I'll write the thing I want to say anyway (writing makes me feel better, and lighter, such as a feather).

I'm lonely. I have always been lonely. But two month ago or so, a girl came to the high school I'm study in(I'm also a girl). I...fell in love for the very first time in my life, and she also fell in love with me and confessed her love to me a month ago. I recommended good omens to her, and she loved it(I also do! Can't wait to get an autograph in my beloved good omens copy I own), basically, she was the Crowley to my aziraphale…

Everything was good...until last night. She told me she doesn't think she wants to be like this (both of our families are homophobic, and she's scared), and we can't be 'us' and she just pretended and tested love on me (as if I'm a laboratory sample)... I had a massive panic attack... I'm heartbroken, and I can't talk about it with my family... told her I'll give her time to think…she apologised, but her apology is not enough, I'm afraid. She's the only one for me... Not only that, but I want and need her love.

What shall I do? God is not helping me at all... no one is helping me, I'm lost. I just want everything to be good! I never said a bad thing to her, I was the kindest, I was her angel (yes she used to call me that) and now...we had a break-up.

There are no break-ups as bad as high school break ups. There are no highs and no lows as hard as what happens when your heart is held and your heart is broken then. And right now your heart is broken.

I can't give you advice on the person or even about dealing with your homophobic families, other than to keep yourself safe, and to hang in there.

What I can say is, it will be okay and you will be okay. You will find your person or your people, you will find yourself, you will find your world. This isn't the end of anything, it's just a stumble on the road.

[k4g3hika]

RUNAWAY PRINCESS ━ multi part-imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: sit tight and be pretty, was what your parents always told you. follow the rules, and your life will run smoothly. but given the chance to run away with your forbidden lover, you just have to choose what makes you happy. even, if it puts either of your lives at stake.

genre: fluff/angst

wc: 1884

note/warnings: mentions of being slapped and jason. this is part 2! i hope you guys enjoy:) one more part after this one.

part one can be found here

Your eyes flutter open to reveal the room in which you lay. Rubbing them together to gain clarity, you take notice that this room was familiar. 

It was your room. 

Laboured breaths fell from your lips and you begin to panic. 

Why were you here? How did you get here?

Where is Eddie?

You jump up from the bed, and rush to the door, attempting to open it. The knob wouldn’t budge, prompting you to cry before checking the window. It was locked as well. 

Everything seemed normal. All your stuff was still in the same place, nothing was shifted from its place. Your head was beginning to process what could’ve possibly happened to interrupt your escape. 

All you can remember is going to Eddie’s house, and it suddenly becoming harder to breathe. 

Immediately, the lock of your door begins to move, making you jump in your place. It pushes open, revealing Chrissy, shyly carrying a tray with water and food. 

“Chrissy? What-why…what’s going on?” She simply shakes her head, looking at you solemnly before putting the tray down on a nearby table. Rushing over to you, she hugs your head to her chest. 

“I’m so sorry my princess. No words can clarify how sorry I am for you.” 

What?

Trying to push her away, Chrissy holds you down tighter not wanting to reveal her tear-stricken face. She couldn’t explain it to you, not yet at least. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell you what happened. 

“Chrissy, tell me. What happened?” Covering her mouth to muffle her sobs, she only shook her head more. Fear begins to course through your veins and you join her in her crying session. “Please, Chrissy, tell me what happened.” 

“No, no, I can’t. You’re not-” then, the door is barged through, your head immediately lifting up to see who came inside. Chrissy gasps and rushes out, not before bowing to who just entered your room. “Your majesty.”

“Yes, thank you for everything Chrissy. You may continue your duties.” The blond gives her a sickenignly, sweet smile. Feeling shivers run down your spine, you move back as he made his way towards your cowering figure on the bed. “Well, Princess Y/N, you’ve grown more beautiful than last I’ve seen you.”

He begins to caress your face with his free hand, forcing you to shift your head away from his grasp. Not liking this, Jason aggressively grabs onto your cheeks. Whimpering, he sneers, and pushes your face away to the side. 

“But you’ve earned such a nasty personality.”

“Jason, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m meeting my bride to be. What else in the world would I be doing?” Jason chuckles, looking around the room and sighing. Walking up to your portrait on the wall, his reflection revealed a smile. 

But you weren’t sure if it was towards you, or the crown that sat prettily atop your head. 

“You know, I was pretty surprised amidst my arrival. Me, expecting to see the future queen of Hawkins greet her future king. And guess what I encounter instead? A measly chambermaid, telling me that you ran away.”

Chrissy told him? You couldn’t believe your ears. Feeling your heart drop down to your feet, the weight of your tears only increased and the air seemed to have become thicker. You couldn’t breathe, finding out that you were caught. 

“No, Jason-”

“And, I’m not done sweetheart, I find out that you run away with a herb-grower? A poor and dirty herb-grower.”

“You don’t speak about him that way!” Jumping up, you speedily walk over to him to land a palm to his chiseled face, but instead, your wrist was greeted with a tight grip. You try to push it harder, wanting to slap him with all the strength you have but instead he quietly laughed under his breath. 

“You’re so protective over him. Too bad that there’s nothing for you to defend.” You suck in a breath.

What did Jason mean by that?

“What are you talking about Jason?” His laughs increase in volume, pulling you closer to him by your wrist. 

“What am I talking about princess? What do you expect me to do when I find that a peasant, plans to kidnap my bride?”

“You’re delusional! He wasn’t going to kidnap me you fool! I love him-” Then, a loud slap, echoes between the walls, and you were forcefully pushed to the side. Gasping for air, your eyes widen, looking up. 

“You need to learn how to shut your mouth and watch who you’re talking to. I am your husband, and I protect my family-”

“Your idea of family can burn in hell! You’re insane Carver! What did you do to Eddie-”

“Edward is rotting in the dungeon! As what he should be doing!” You cry out loud, shaking your head to deny his claim. Your weakness begins to amuse Jason, as a joyous smile grows on his face. “I’ll make sure that he’s staying there for the rest of his life.”

“You can’t!”

“Oh but I can. As the new king of Hawkins, I can do anything I want.” Laughing out loud, Jason steps over you, walking to the basin to wash his hands. 

You didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what you had in mind. You didn’t want to marry this terrible man. 

You wanted Eddie. Eddie your love, the man you were supposed to be with right now, travelling through the countryside to find the house he spoke dreamily of. The house where you were going to raise your children. 

Eddie, you want Eddie. 

But you also don’t want Eddie to die. To continue living with knowing that Eddie died because of you, would eat you alive until you took your last breath. Eddie didn’t deserve to die for your sake. 

Though love is strong, you don’t believe it’s worse than him finding happiness. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

“Jason, please let him go.”

“Not a chance princess.” Running over to him, you grip onto his arm, pleading him. “Oh?”

“Please Jason. Release Eddie, and I won’t ever see him again. I’ll marry you, continue your lineage, but please. Just let him go.” His eyes seem to soften at your tears, prompting him to turn around. You felt the creeps while his hands raised up to caress your wet cheeks, and you fought the urge within yourself to pull away from his touch. “Please Jason.”

“Well, how can I say no to that? I’ll only release him if you’ll marry me, with no problems.”

What’s important to you is that Eddie will be happy. Surely he’ll find someone else for him, though it breaks your heart to admit. 

“I will.”

—

You wanted one last visit with Eddie. 

You didn’t care if Jason didn’t approve your visit. You just needed a last one. To say goodbye. 

Walking up to the Munson house, you didn’t know if he wanted to see you. You wouldn’t want to see him if he put you through what you did to him. 

But maybe this will finally be your chance. You can finally run. 

The sun shone brightly, highlighting the herbs that stood tall in front of his house. 

And you then felt relief. 

There stood Eddie, wiping his forehead dry from the sweat that littered his body. You wanted to cry. 

Eddie made you happy. Even the sight of him made you want to cry just from how beautiful he was. Even with the dirt, sweat, and grime, he was still far more handsome than any other prince in the kingdom. 

“Princess?” Sobbing, you nod slowly and Eddie ran up to your stature, dropping whatever was in his hands to see you. His arms were raised, as if he was to give you a hug, but instead, his arms slowly fell down to his sides. You only cry more, seeking his touch as much as he did, but you knew better. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” He only nods, sliding his hands down his face. “I’m sorry I caused you-”

“Y/N, don’t apologize for what happened. It was expected, I-I should’ve known better than to strip you of your responsibilities.” Shaking your head, you reach to hold onto his face, but he only pulls his head away from your hands. “We can’t.”

“Eddie…take me with you, please. Let’s go. We can go now. There’s no one behind me, where’s your uncle’s carriage?”

“Y/N-”

“Let’s go now Eddie! We can run!”

“Y/N! Stop!” 

Why? Why won’t he agree?

Eddie huffs, walking away from you. Pleadingly, you walk after him, begging him to take you away. You couldn’t bear to be married to Jason, you can only imagine your life with him. 

It was selfish. But your happiness was what stood as important to you right now. 

“Eddie, please. Please take me with you.” 

“You know I can’t Y/N. Jason,”

“Oh, Jason, fuck him-”

“Y/N! I don’t love you enough to sacrifice my life! Jason said he would kill my uncle! Why would I take you just for him to kill my uncle! You can’t be selfish Y/N, you’re not the only person in the world! Think about-”

“But why? You said-”

“God, Y/N?! Please! Just, go.” Eddie strides towards his door, holding it firmly in his grasp. “Just let us go.”

“No, Eddie…don’t do this to me.”

Eddie fought every desire in him to turn around, knowing that if he was to, he wouldn’t be able to deny your request. 

Eddie wanted to run away with you. But he knew, that your lives would be at risk where ever you turned. 

Jason wouldn’t stop at trying to find you. 

And for some reason, he knew that your life would just be better. Without him. 

You would be comfortable, being able to live your lavish life. He didn’t need to take that away from you. 

“You have to get back to your husband, your majesty.” Eddie slams the door behind him, firmly locking it to block you from coming inside. Standing before the door, you can only cry silently, begging any God out there in the universe to somehow change his mind. 

He wasn’t telling the truth. Jason told him what to say. 

You needed to know why, why he was saying ‘no’ to running away with you. You thought that…you thought that he would agree. Subsequently, you hear a sniffle coming from the otherside.

“Eddie…I know you’re still behind the door.”

Even if he didn’t want to run with you, you at least wanted to properly say goodbye.

“But…just promise me you’ll find someone that makes you happy just as much as you’ve made me happy. I love you, Edward Munson. And,” you sob, “and, even if, you don’t love me…I’ll always hold the same feelings for you, till I grow old and on my death bed. You deserve love like that, even if it won’t be from me. 

I hope in our next life, we won’t have the same troubles. I hope…I hope that, the universe will grace us with luck, and bless you to me. I love you, thank you,” 

You can’t say it. You can’t. 

“And goodbye, my love.”

In our next life, Edward Munson.

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