#yes. yes it is. the pain never stops i hate being limited and the limbo of ��yeah lol who KNOWS what’s happening in there’ is. Familiar

[pussymasterdooku]

have about 60% of a single functioning hand these days and got tired of humiliating myself trying to open pill bottles when eva’s in the office so she fixed me up good with Easy Open Mini Ricotta Container Filled With Ritalin And Ibuprofen. accessibility win!

[hotchley]

damaged

Well...

It's been a hot minute since an actual fic hasn't it?

Do you want to know my return is? This shambles, which is 1184 words of Hotch being sad and signing the divorce papers. Does it make sense? I don't know! But I wrote it in a few hours, and it's basically just sadness, but I worked some lines I loved very much into it... so let's just go with it! If anyone dares label this as Haley Bashing or Hotch Crit, I will fight you because I love them both very much and this was more just an excuse to make Hotch cry. Whoops.

Also, yes, it is not lost on me that my first fic with the hotchley url is sad hotchley shit, I had something fluffy planned, it did not work and ergo, we are here. Oh yes: no proofreading whatsoever lol and listening to Little Talks- Of Monsters and Men may make it hurt more? I don't actually know

Trigger Warnings: divorce, implied child abuse

read on ao3!

He signs the papers as soon as he returns to the office.

They’ve been taunting him since the day he received them. He put them in his bottom drawer. He didn’t even bother taking them home, knowing he would be spending more time in the office than in the house.

It hadn’t hurt when Haley sent them to the sixth floor, even though the embarrassment had been so overwhelming he’d had to walk away from everyone before they saw how his cheeks had reddened and his eyes pricked with tears. He knew emotions were an unpredictable and difficult thing to cope with.

He knew she would never truly hurt him, and the moment the weight of her actions hit her, she would apologise. And it wasn’t because he had profiled her. He just knew her. The same way she knew him.

(She did send a message apologising. He didn’t have the words to explain it was him that should be begging for forgiveness, so he ignored it. Just like he did with everything in his life that was overwhelming.)

He put them in his bottom drawer because it was the drawer he used the most. Erin looked in the middle drawer for things like staples and elastic bands. The rest of the BAU looked in his top drawer for their favourite snacks and comfort items. Everyone knew to not look in the bottom drawer.

It had his profile of George Foyet. And the divorce papers.

He’s read them a thousand times over, knowing deep down that he doesn’t want to go to court, that he doesn’t want to challenge the custody agreement or Haley’s possession of the house or anything written in them. He doesn’t… he does care, but not in the way everyone seems to think.

Haley deserves to be happy. She is the one that has come up with the terms of the agreement, and that is more than she should have had to do. So Aaron doesn’t want to go to court, but he does want to see Haley. Just to be sure that she’ll be okay.

He wants to see her for reasons that are completely selfish, so he doesn’t argue. He just avoids her, and tests her limits till they’re reached and she does the one thing she hates doing: phoning the BAU.

It’s being informed by JJ that Haley called that makes him realise what he’s been doing. He’s been forcing Haley to remain in limbo, to struggle along and feel miserable because he’s not ready to let go. To move on and accept that he’s going to be alone again. That he is going to prove his mother and father right. They always said he was unlovable.

Haley had always convinced himself that wasn’t true, but maybe it is. Maybe he’s destined to be alone.

But in the moment, that isn’t what matters. What matters is the pain he’s causing. It doesn’t matter that Jessica and Haley don’t feel angry with him, they’re angry because they know his thought patterns and if it’s not anger, it will be sadness, or that all Haley wants him to do is what’s best for Jack, because in the moment, Aaron despises himself.

He hates himself. He sees himself as a coward. As a man so afraid of the future that he refuses to let the past go, that he tries to keep time from passing and the world from spinning by refusing to set the ones he loves free.

But he can’t do that. He can’t stop any of it from happening, not without causing harm, so he takes the pen that Roy gave him as a wedding present- the irony is not lost on him- and he hesitates.

He reads the papers once more, even though he could recite them verbatim.

And then he signs them.

And he doesn’t feel anything.

No sadness, no numbness, no fury, no relief, no joy.

Just nothing.

It shocks him.

And rationally, he knows that he’s just shocked, that the full weight of what’s happened will hit him when he least expects it, but emotions aren’t rational and he suddenly feels terrified. Is this who he has become? Has he finally gone too far?

Will he ever feel again?

He drops the pen and closes his eyes. When he opens them, his signature stares at him. Haley’s is already above it, a mockery of the marriage certificate they signed all those years ago.

David Rossi once told him the same thing he said to Elle Greenaway: that divorce wasn’t uncommon in the BAU. He just never thought it would apply to him. And suddenly, he can’t be in the office that has come at the price it has. Nobody is ever going to love him again, and what will he have to show for it?

A hand that always trembles, scars that will never heal, and a team that only keeps him around because he can take the fall for their actions and pretend to not be human so they can carry on living.

Emily calls his name, and he gives her a shaky smile. She takes it for what it is: a plea to be left alone.

It hits him in the shower.

He’s reaching for the shower gel Haley always said was her favourite and his wedding ring glints in the light. He always showers with the lights turned off, but it’s late enough that the moon is high in the sky and able to seep through the blinds.

The wedding ring that she slipped onto his finger when they were happy and in love. The wedding ring that holds no worth anymore.

Because he’s signed the divorce papers.

He’s signed them.

Haley’s not his wife anymore.

Haley doesn’t want him anymore. Haley doesn’t love him enough to stay anymore. And it- because he cannot call it what it is, cannot shake the years of being told divorce was a synonym for failure, is definitely for the best, for both of them but it hurts.

It hurts so much that he wants to tear out the part of him that feels.

It hurts so much that he almost feels relieved that even if nobody loves him, he can still feel.

It hurts so much that the tears that fall down his cheeks and taste like salt and that mix with the shower water that continues to beat down on him mercilessly don’t feel like enough. They don’t convey how broken he is.

He’s never going to come home to a house full of lights again.

He’s never going to wake up because he can smell coffee again.

He’s never going to feel Haley’s mouth against his in a rare moment of passion again.

He’s never going to be her husband again.

He’s never going to be a husband.

He screams, and he cries.

But nobody soothes his throat. Nobody wipes his tears away. Not now Haley- the one person that never flinched at his humanity- is gone from his life.

He screams. And the abyss smiles back.

It’s gotten him forever.

[thecorteztwins]

(Maddy and Haven fic! Tagging @sammysdewysensitiveeyes since it was their idea. TRYING to tag @esteicy-blog but TUMBLR WON’T LET ME LATELY) They had met in Limbo, literally. Both of them had been awoken, trapped there, after their respective demises, due to their being “tainted” with demonic energy. Thus, rather than going on to wherever everyone else got to, they instead did not truly perish, but merely had moved, including their earthly body, to another plane, one where such energies allowed them to survive. The denizens there let them be, and indeed gave them both a wide berth. The power of the demons that had left their marks on these women had the same effect on lesser entities as the scent of an apex predator did on smaller ones in its environment--keeping them far at bay in fear.  It was a boon, yes, keeping them from being torn to shreds or worse by the loathsome inhabitants of the realm, but it was a bitter one. A reminder that they were forever marked, forever set apart, forever a part of them warped and evil and wrong even though they had thought their nightmare was over with their deaths.  They had found each other, there in that twisted geography, two alien loners, two angels lost in hell. Naturally, they had banded together as traveling companions, roaming the only world that would have them anymore.  Along the way, they’d learned about each other. Madelyne had opened up first. Her pain was a raw, angry one, a pain that reached out of herself because it was too much to contain in her own limited being, in anyone. She had made the world itself feel her pain, made all of Manhattan share it; she was not private with it. Yet in her strange way, she had come to be possessive of it too; it was one of the few things that was HERS. Haven, who had kept the secret of her “Voice Within” for twenty years (though it turned out, in the end, she didn’t know its TRUE secret), who was not the headstrong spitfire that Madelyne was, but instead raised a restrained and refined lady who had only ever broken one rule (and paid dearly for it) while Madelyne made her own, took more time. She was still ashamed, something Madelyne was not, and something Madelyne encouraged her against once she knew about it. ”Just because the creatures who did this will never feel shame,” she’d said, “Shouldn’t mean we have to!” Madelyne KNEW this wasn’t her fault---or Haven’s---and that was what made her mad! Madelyne, someone who had been a hero with the X-Men, someone who had advocated mutant rights back when she’d so foolishly thought herself human, had a strong sense of justice---and she raged at how it had been denied them both, while Haven took a sad, silent, stalwart approach. But when Madelyne had begun to express her experiences, bringing them forth in angry tears or bitter comments, Haven had begun to open herself to Madelyne in kind. Not to compete with Madelyne’s pain, but to comfort her in sharing it, as so few could. Both of them were also women of great compassion. Haven had been a philanthropist, tormented by the pain of others and using all her great means to assuage it. Madelyne had helped save lives with the X-Men....and given up her own life to save the world. Save the world, ironically, from the same creature that had entered it again years later through Haven’s womb. They were women who, in their natural state, cared deeply and truly and, in Maddy’s case, fiercely for others---thus, naturally, they had compassion for one another. And it helped them find compassion for themselves too, though each believed the other lacked enough for herself. Maddy, because she saw that Haven was not vengeful. Haven, because she saw that Madelyne was. Like right now; returned to Earth and life by unknown powers (Madelyne assured Haven it was a pretty regular thing) the redhead had immediately begun a plan to attack the X-Men, in particular Scott Summers and his new telepathic paramour. A plan that, Haven, of course, opposed. “How many of them had an evil phase?” Madelyne griped, “How many former villains are in their ranks? And yet it’s ME ALONE who is forever outcast from them. If they want a wicked witch to hate, I’ll give it to them!” “Have you tried to rejoin them?” “No! But they might have offered.” “But you would refuse?” “Yes. But they should offer. I was with them for years. Some even met me before they met the OTHER WOMAN. How can they just forget me for her when they knew me FIRST?”     “ It doesn’t sound like they were worthy friends for you, Madelyne. If they’ve forgotten you, why not forget them? It’s unfair, for you to be the one burdened with a grudge.”     “They deserve it!” Madelyne exclaimed in pained, furious passion, her eyes wrenched shut from sheer emotion, her fists raised and clenched, her body actually doubling over as though she had been struck in the stomach. Haven’s voice was still calm...and yet, with no less emotion, in its own serene, loving way, “What about what you deserve?” That took Madelyne aback, and instead of answering it, she ejected in shocked, accusing betrayal, “You’re trying to manipulate me!” For Madelyne, of all people, knew manipulation when it came her way. It had been there with her first breath...and her last. She would say she’d never expect it from Haven, but the truth is, she expected from anyone in the end. As for Haven, she did not deny or deflect it, and that did surprise Madelyne somewhat, though it did not pacify her. “I...suppose so, yes, you’re right. It isn’t how I think of it, but I am trying to urge you towards a goal that I want, even as you’re telling me that I want the opposite, and I am trying to use words to appeal to you. To steer you, even. Because I don’t want to MAKE you do anything, Madelyne, and I doubt I ever could. But I do wish that you would want something different.” “And what would you get out of it?” “My initial response is, nothing. But upon a moment’s reflection---I would get my own happiness. It pains me to see someone so victimized, so wounded, so wronged, and it also pains me to see anger, hate, vindictiveness, even when justified...especially since it continues to hurt you. So in you doing what I believe will alleviate your pain, mine would also be alleviated. And I suppose also, I am trying to push my own worldview. To move you in the direction I believe is right, because I believe it is right. I do genuinely wish for you to be happier, to be better--but there is a certain arrogance in my belief that the path I advocate will provide that, and that the one you have chosen to pursue will not. It’s understandable to push back against that, to be angry, to be insulted---especially since it’s coming from someone who should understand where you are coming from.”

“So you want me to be like you. You just want me to forgive everyone and let this go, because you think being a doormat is the moral high ground?” “Forgiveness...helped ME heal. Holding a grudge..may be what helps you heal. That’s for you to decide. But not forgiving them...does not mean you must still pursue vengeance. It tethers you to them, as much as you were tethered before by the machinations of others.” “Don’t preach at me!” Madelyne nearly screamed, face and body twisting in pain again, “I earned my vengeance!” “It is not the validity of your rage I question,” Haven tried to urge her back, “It is your willingness to hurt yourself for it. I don’t want that for you, Madelyne. You’ve been so wronged. You deserve more for yourself than becoming a villain in someone else’s story.” Madelyne felt patronized and also penetrated, simultaneously like Haven was pretentious and self-righteous and talking down to her and trying to tell her what to do and how she felt...and also like her description was exactly accurate. A villain in someone else’s story. Because it always had been someone elses story from the start, hadn’t it? Not hers, never hers. She was the lover, the mother, the evil witch, but never the heroine. She was there to be sacrificed or sacrifice others, but never to save them or be saved. And every time she tried to strike back at the X-Men...she couldn’t deny, the cycle continued, with her pain and humiliation and rejection and defeat all over again.    clenched her heart like a squeezing fist , the knowledge that this was all that she had left to her now if she stopped...she was nothing. her life was intertwined with theirs, with scott, from the start. If she gave it up, as painful as it was, who was left? She’d used to be so confident. I am what I am, she had said to Sym. But that had been before she’d known what she REALLY was. A fake. An illusion. A ghost made flesh, who only existed now so long as she returned to haunt those were truly real, truly alive, truly people. People with REAL memories and REAL desires, things they TRULY had lived and felt. Even Haven had that!       “You have a life to go back to!” she yelled, “This IS my life!” “It doesn't have to be,” Haven had moved towards her, standing close to her, had put her hands on Madelyne’s upper arms, gently holding her, looking into her suffering, angry green ones with her own sorrowful loving dark ones, “You can make your own life---you have nothing now, but that means your canvas is clean--” “It will NEVER be clean!” Madelyne was in agony, and nearly in tears. “People can change, Madelyne. You weren’t always like this, were you? Your experiences changed you. You can change again.” Her voice a sob, Madelyne turned her face away from her fried, “There’s no going back.” “No,” Haven agreed softly, “There isn’t. But there can be going forward. You can never be how you were before, never un-know what you now know. But you can also be a new person. We’re all always changing. You can too---and this time, you get to steer.” Her hands moved down to Madelyne’s own, fingers intertwined with hers, and Maddy found herself grasping back. In a small voice, she asked, “Where do I even begin?” How did one start making a life, an entire person?  How could you build YOURSELF from nothing? “Let’s start with something you love,” said Haven gently, “Something that’s just yours. And always has been.” Madelyne thought a moment. Then she turned her face back to Haven, opening her eyes, which had been clenched shut again a moment ago, “I think I’d like to fly again.”

[OOC note: Originally, I had written out a bit where Madelyne finds out Haven’s past through telepathy. But then I ended up writing them as having opened up organically to each other prior to this argument, and I liked that better. However, I still really liked the mind-reading scene, even though I cut it, so here’s my outline of how it would have gone down: And what are our similarities, Mother Theresa? One of the saddest expressions that Madelyne had ever seen outside a mirror. The crazy thing was, it wasn’t even in her face, which remained as gracefully composed as that of a geisha. It was all in her huge, dark eyes, and the furrowing of the thick brows above them. She was struggling with something. Her eloquent tongue was finally wrapped around something she couldn’t spit out. It made Maddy curious enough to keep listening; what was Miss Perfect here hiding? Did she accidentally step on a bug once and was living in agony with the guilt? An expression of relinquishing, of defeat, replaced the struggle on Haven’s face. She shut her eyes, and there was the sense she had let go, submitted to something, and was steeling herself for it. Opening her eyes back at Madelyne, she said, “I...think it is better to show you. I have not the strength to say. Not now. Maybe not for a long time. But hopefully, one day.” “You want me to read your memories.” “It...is a deeply intimate thing, I know. I understand if you do not wish to.” didn’t usually get that people understood how intimate it was for the person whose mind was being read, but seldom considered how much so it was for the telepath too seemed especially hesitant, must not like people poking around in her brain few did but she was offering anyway Madelyne didn’t think she’d be persuaded, but she was intrigued enough she had to see Well, hold tight to your socks, girl. I’m going in.   seen it seen it all used by a man for her body, abandoned with her child not yet born a demon for her pregnancy 20 years without control 20 years forced into a role she didn’t choose, would never had chosen attacked by X-Men died alone no sympathy, no one, Roma herself---someone Madelyne had met and remembered fondly, someone who had given Maddy life again after her first death---there to tell her she deserved it, even as she begged Roma, begged her not to save her but to stop her monstrous child The Adversry The Adversary, dear god was it possible?! The Adversary---the same demon that had KILLED Madelyne in that first death! Well, not exactly---it had not struck her down, but she had offered her life to Forge’s spell to bind it away from this reality yet it had traveled through time, twenty years back, and found refuge in the womb of this woman, this human woman, human til she wasn’t, just like Maddy, just like Maddy, just like Maddy--             and saw too, the reason for Haven’s hesitancy to show this not just the pain, the shame, the intimacy no, another reason Haven had been telepathically invaded by force before, violated, that was how Haven had felt it, as a violation, how Madelyne therefore felt it now through her memories Xavier forced his way in despite her repeated pleas and outcries against it, had KNOWN she was hiding something in Haven’s forgiving retrospect, she thought Xavier had done the right thing, because she HAD been hiding something, something terrible, she HAD been responsible for the deaths of millions and answers must be found, Haven understood, Haven forgave, Haven thought he had been right to do it as much as it hurt her still but Madelyne did NOT forgive for all her grudges over her self, Madelyne could still take on new ones for other people, because Madelyne still CARED for others, even the people she’d never met, had no ties to, it was why she had left Sebastian Shaw despite him never harming HER, because his actions had the potential to harm other people even if she never saw it And she saw this now, and she did NOT forgive, she--- pulled away, gasping as though for air, like she had been deep underwater physically instead of deep in Haven’s mind Haven’s sorrowful look remained, had increased, and Maddy indeed understood why now     ]

[elejah-wonderland]

The Sun and The Moon Curse/4

Fanfiction

Part 4

Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert

AU TVD story

set after tvd 3x15

Summary: Elijah asks Elena to tell him what Esther wanted from her. Will Elena tell the Original vampire... and what will happen afterwards... 

a/n: My version of what happened after the Mikaelson Ball. I hope you like it. xoxo

🎹💕

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @hides2000 @idkhaylijah

_______________

Romania

Lia Vladu received a message from her friend in Istanbul that the Dacian scrolls had been acquired by no other than the Original vampire by the name Elijah Mikaelson.

"So, we finally get to meet."- she muttered to herself and put the phone beside her computer, and went on with the preparations for her lectures.

******

 👔💕

Venice, Italy

Elijah helped Elena step out of the motorboat onto the dock. The moment she was on ground she let his hand go like as if was burned by fire. She looked at him and then said-

"Can we skip dinner? I am not that hungry!"

He was not surprised by this as she was quiet during the boat ride.

"All right" - he said looking at her indicating that he she was free to speak her mind. She then said with no further ado-

"I'd like to know exactly what your plan is "

It sounded like a bold demand, to which Elijah calmly suggested-

"Shall we take a walk? Please"- the Original gestured which direction the should take. As they started walking he continued-" I had been looking for the Dacian scrolls for centuries. It  apparently contains a story of a werewolf hybrid that lived once long ago- " After Klaus and I each went our separate ways and I had learned that he did away with my siblings, I was looking for ways to-well, you know-"

"Kill Klaus- or put him to sleep?!"- Elena concluded.

"So, he would not be able to trigger his werewolf side ever, so I decided to follow up on the rumor. But they were not to be found-and then- "- he looked at her with a strange mixture of pain and caring. His thought wandered to the moment he first heard that a doppelganger appeared, and then to their first meeting.

Elena broke his daze by questioning how convenient it was that the scrolls appeared at this very moment.

"When we were on the plane I received a message from one of my sources that in fact The Dacian scrolls were in Italy. Yes, Elena, one would find it rather mystifying- not before, but now-"

"This is too good to be true, don't you think, maybe someone is setting this up?! "- she couldn't help but cast a shadow on it.

"Or maybe the stars are aligned and things can work out in our favour."- he said playfully.

"Yes-well, I guess if there are doppelgangers and vampires, than I can believe in aligned stars, or the guy who verified them lied and we are on a wild goose chase, but how come you believe those scrolls are real when the sun and the moon curse was your invention?!"

"We will know that when we see Lia Vladu. A story is also that the scrolls contain witches spells, and that they are cursed apparently, it is said that witches trying to read those spells died.. I am willing to find out if it so, aren't you?!."

"When are we leaving for Romania then?"- Elena was now eager to find out what the truth was behind the story of the scrolls.

"Tomorrow. First thing in the morning"- Elijah said.

"Right." - Elena retorted slightly miffed, trying to hide her disappointment in him.

"I would have disclosed all this to you after we returned from dinner"- the Original said.

She stopped still. Then looked at him, her almond eyes beaming at him - " I have not played fair either in the past- but now, since I have left Mystic Falls and kind of made a choice to trust you to help me with Klaus, leverage or no leverage"- she stuttered a bit-" I - "

"Yes, Elena?"

She felt his eyes now probed down into her very soul- it transported her directly to the moment of their conversation at the Lockwood mansion. It said -you know it all Elena.

She knew she mattered to him, but she wondered if what she read in his eyes then and here now could just be a figment of her imagination. It was about Katherine, she would tell herself, and after he had betrayed her and let Klaus live, she shut any thought of him down. The moment she heard that Damon undaggered him, the thoughts crept back up. And then after he had saved her from Rebekah's fury, the night he listened attentively all about what she had been through with Klaus after he put him to sleep, that night rehashed something in her, that something that drew her to him. 

Yet her being focused on having Klaus killed made her lie to him at the Ball. But nothing was easy anymore, it got even more confusing. Now she knew that by hurting him she would be hurting herself. Could he read all this from her heartbeat. Gulping a little, she now said-

"I- need to know that we are in this together!?"

She was just looking at him without making a sound. She could hardly breathe, but she just needed to see in his eyes now if he was completely sincere that he would always disclose all to her. Words simply would not suffice, and he knew it.

“We are” - Elijah slipped and his eyes beamed at her showing her that he meant what he said.

Elena now nodded slightly, her face shinning with a happy warm glow. As she was to turn to commence walking, she felt suddenly faint, and nearly tripped with her high heels in the cobbles. With one swift movement, he caught her, his arm sliding around her waist, holding her now close to him. Elena’s heart accelerated, swallowing hard as he looked at her in ways no one had ever looked at her. And she shook like the willow tree, feeling his hand press slightly on her lower back, now to him, her expression mirroring back his emotions. And yet he held back, and now uttered, sliding his hand away-

“You must eat something. Shall we?”

“Yes”- Elena slipped now composing herself. 

Elijah now gestured to take the road back to the Osteria.

**********

Elsewhere

Three witches waited for Esther in a small house in a village in Scotland mainland.

"Thank you sisters for responding to my call"- Esther said as she got in.

"There were signs that an Original witch has been called forth"- one of them said- " what is that you need from us?"

"You know of my misdeed- I wish to make amends and put an end to the pest that walks this Earth. My powers are limited as you know since I am just a shadow of myself... One of my sons has taken the doppelganger, and is masking their whereabouts- I need to know who is helping him and I need to get to the doppelganger, I've been told that you could help me. "

"We cannot help you!"- the second one answered straight out.

"I don't understand why you would refuse. I have been told that you wish the same as I do?!"

" We cannot help you! "- the third witch said and the three sister got up ready to leave.

Then one of them said - " The one must be protected. We had sworn we would do so!"

"Sworn to whom?"- Esther insisted.But the three women said their goodbyes and left the house. Esther was left stunned. She thought of Klaus and Elijah, and the power they must posses to have every witch turn against their own.

But there was a witch willing to the same as Esther, and Damon and Katherine knocked at her door. She welcomed them into her house.

" There is no need for your introduction"- the witch said- "your name precedes you."- she looked at both of them. Damon was somewhat flattered.

"So, you were expecting us?"- Damon said. Katherine smirked but remained quiet for a moment. The witch was not fond of vampires, but she was eager to see why those two sought her out.

"I heard you were looking for me, anyway, what brings you here- you are far away from your comfort zone, Katerina Petrova?"- Yizel said-"And you have come to me? Why is that? "-

" Klaus Mikaelson."- Katherine said.- " you hate the name, I guess as much as I do."

"I do."- Yizel confirmed. The witches eyes were on fire as she heard the name of the Original hybrid. Same as Klaus killed all of Katherine's family, so he did to Yizel's. Katherine now got the the white-oak dagger out of her jacket.

"I suppose you know what that is?!"- she said.

**************

👔💕

The Palazzo

In the morning

The words 'We are’- the almost kiss, him holding her so close to him, played on Elena's mind as she was packing her bag. 

Bucharest. What will it bring, will it be a dead end, and then what. next. She looked at herself in the mirror. Do his eyes lie- her mind still was there at the point when she asked and he never replied they merely continued walking further. She could not hear his heartbeat to know what was going in him. What if she was blind and it will all blow out. She was mad that he didn't answer, mad that it felt like a limbo.

Elijah waited for her giving Zusta instructions about some paperwork she was to take to the notary the following day. As they finished, he sent a message to the his man that they were ready to be taken to the airport.

Elena came from her room, and they were set to leave.

"Thank you, Zusta"- she said and smiled to the woman - " it was really nice meeting you."

Elijah let the women say goodbye to one another, and then they went down to the private dock then into the motorboat. Elena turned to glance at the Palazzo one more time. When they got into the plane he told her that he had booked a house in Bucharest.

"It's small"- " he said- " we would appear that we are there on business. I have not been there since 1900. I have received a message this morning that Lia Vladu is expecting us."

"Really? Who informed her? "

"Someone who is eager to know what these scrolls entail. Someone who is not my brother as he knows that we are going on a round trip in Eastern Europe. "

"You are not worried?"

"Merely interested. Those scrolls seemed to be precious. to others, not just us."- Elijah remarked.

Us. Her heart wanted it. She turned her look away to the clouds underneath them.

**********************

"Eastern Europe"- Klaus read the message Elijah sent him.

 "Hm..." 

Klaus now tossed the phone on the bed.

[celisgettacos]

I'm going to post this because maybe someone will hear this over words unspoken, my name is Billy Strange and I still wake up each morning picking up the next piece, I've almost taken my life more then I can count on both hands, from a high school sweet heart marriage of 9 years turned bloody and a custody battle that went from healthy to sadistic over a span of 3 years and 20k, and it was the words from a man I barely knew for no more then 6 months, that has saved me

I see and talk to so many fathers who tell me their story and I so badly want to tell them just to listen to what I'm telling you, I can get you out of this if you just let me a stranger walk with you through it... It never works out that easy but I don't give up and I hope you all read these words and share them to those who may hear it better from the words written by their brother in arms.. any way

I look back for those 2 years I was there and remember pushing anyone close to me as far away as possible so that they didn't have to feel the initial pain or try to stop me, all because I felt like I let them all down...

The only people I kept around me were strangers because I wanted to know if they seen me as a failure not even knowing me.... It was because of that, and them being completely honest about why it was only me that maybe it wasn't meant to be,

(A Satanist told me this and I'll never forget it, it was his words that allowed me to get this far) he is not one for recognition so I won't label him.

"did you ever think that your trying so hard to hold up a world that has fallen all around you...

Maybe you are on the right path and you are only focusing on the things that have already broken, and don't realize that all you have to do is look down at each piece, see it and learn why it was so important to you and then glue it to that small piece you are still holding above you, then go to the next and keep going until each piece has shown you just how strong it actually made you to make it to someone who seen your strength, and can see you just forgot what gave you that strength.

It will hurt, it will make you hate the way you handled certain things, it will cause you to try to give up,

but because you made it a task to see each piece, and put it all back up, you will never allow yourself to give up, or find a rope, until you complete your task, because thats the person you are...

But you have to understand that it may have taken you 5 years to build that first world you now see broken below you, it will take far longer to rebuild it stronger, because you will also rebuild yourself with each piece, and you have to remember to let each piece's glue dry before placing the other or else you will watch it become to stressful and not understand why you think you are doing the right thing but it keeps falling....

Learn each piece then let it hurt, while you hold it in place to dry, let it consume your mind and play it over and over like a movie each piece until it dries, then heal, smile before you look back down for that next piece, and don't ever be scared to place even those bad things you did when not everyone was watching back into your rebuild, because without each piece it will be to weak and fall apart down the road when everything seemed good.

Basically you have to accept that you are on a dark road but to learn to see in the dark it will allow you to navigate later in life when you see a person on that same road and they ask for help.. Don't ever forget how you felt because they may have absolutely no one and will you want to be the one who pretends like you didn't see it. Anyway that being said stop mopping and let's go handle business "

The next section is a completely separate chapter from above but I feel maybe can help...

I want to add to this 4 years from that being told to me and experiencing it in real life, that sometimes you will still find yourself in a sort of limbo period I've managed to pin mine down to about every 8 months, if for some reason I didn't accomplish a goal I set prior and it feels like no matter what I do or try I can't for some reason figure it out, those are the moments you need to find a person you trust your life with because those will be the moments you will try anything to get you out of that mentality because we want to feel that we are moving forward no matter the speed, but to feel stuck and not being able to see a way out or that lost piece that you know is there it's just probably hidden under some of your other pieces..we feel like Maybe just for a moment let whatever is causing you to panic, whether it's rent, a car that is broke and no money and work tomorrow, or you've been jobless for 3 months now and even with all the resumes submitted nothing is available and winter is a cold time to be homeless with no job, or maybe you still haven't got a place to stay so that you can have your children stay with you finally, whatever it is the worst thing that can happen is what you silently keep fighting to not take over,

I just want this fight to stop for one night, I just want all this stress to burry itself tonight so I can try to breathe... What that really means is I'm going to go back to those bad habits I had because it always quieted those fights in my head and if I can just do that I will have a clear mind to find a solution..

I will tell you from experience that once you reach that moment nothing but a person of trust will stop you from taking that hit, or drinking those shots, calling that sexual excitement, spending the money you don't have on the gambling machines, going out on the town with the sole purpose of getting wasted, because we truly believe that we are better prepared to control our vices, we will stop at our limit, what we never realize is that we allowed those vices to retake control by thinking you needed it to breathe.

What will ultimately usually happen is a night of uncontrolled guilt, constant war inside yourself, conscious tears filling up your emotional warhead..

all night this rage of self doubt quietly destroying your confidence, causing you to go right on past that limit of 2 shots, or just one line, or I'll only put 20 bucks in the slots, or I will just flirt I won't allow it to go past that,

because that fight is still loud and now more painful, because you know deep down that you allowed yourself to fall and laying there helpless...I cringe even writing these next words because it's so easy to reach this point of thinking that;

"obviously we were just meant to fail"

"why not right, "

"who really cares if I fail there's, no one here to stop me right..."

"So why should I have to carry this pain all the damn time, why is it so fucking easy for everyone else..."

And that's it...

(Those of you who are reading this and may be in this exact moment please, look at that image that you always hold in your mind of your child's eyes, look at that past moment when you and your daughter would lay under the stars with her head on your shoulder watching the magical pink elephant jump through a black sky as she explains how much she loves you and talks about anything and everything that her imagination creates under that massive sky where imagination always comes to life.... Feel her heart as she paints her masterpiece and ask you to help with the flowers over there by the big dipper so the elephant has something to give her mom,

please don't let your moment die because you have no more left, and no one in your face to help you, please call me I don't know you but I will before we hang up and I won't let you fail the only mission that will keep your children's smile alive for another year because you didn't let yourself fall.)

Cont. - don't Wake up the next day or still awake 12 hours later after all those "friends" left you to sit with your own guilt... Oh yeah, that guilt is now yelling loudly inside your entire soul, as it launches that emotional warhead of tears, oh yeah those evil people why did they let me do this....

Why did they... Urrrghhhhh why did I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I,... DO this I can't believe I went back to what destroyed me and actually talked myself into believing this was going to help me....

It's in those tears and self reflection comes a choice that is now forced on you, oh hold that thought your friend from last night is calling, and they want to know if you want to continue this "unhealthy" adventure..

You either respond with a yes and have accepted that you have lost your control, and most times it will set you back 3-6 months or until your money runs out or those "friends" hurt you. And then you realize that all you did was take on more hurt and more pain and that's a scenario that will most likely continue to lead to occasional loss of all reality until you find that piece of your life that you keep looking over and afraid to pick up, and will cause your life to end up in constant downfalls until addressed.

Or you will have addressed that guilt and conquer a small war by not answering, because you are very In tune with accepting responsibility and able to understand that you could have destroyed your life, someone else's life, and now you know that you still are not able to control those periods of limbo when nothing is working. So accept responsibility for any loses you may have encountered, like a drug test at work, or a piece of your dignity, or people you thought were friends...

The first step from that is to immediately have the talk with that person you know will hold you accountable during those periods, 9 out of 10 times that person is who you looked up to as a child whether it's your mom, dad, grandparent, or sibling, for me it was my grandmother.. The moment you can go to them honestly no matter what it was that you did the night before, you have to let them know what that is, you have to be able to openly label the thing that will destroy you, and let them know how important they are to your strength, those tears from that conversation will build a mountain of motivation inside of you... Usually sparking that jolt to get you over that limbo...

Some people can afford to pay those people to help them, for the rest of us we have each other so that's my little piece of advice I hope it helps someone

[tumblunni]

I HAD A BUNCH OF WEIRD DREAMS LAST NIGHT AND THEY WERE COOL For once I’m happy about being woken up constantly by stomach pain! It was like a triple feature super dream!

The first dream was mega trippy and kinda scary? It was.. like a dream! I was in the role of this lady whose life was turning into a pile of surreal nonsense, like glitches in the matrix and stuff. Seeing days from her childhood out of order, opening a door twice and it goes to different places, weird abstract bullshit everywhere. But she was like.. just trying to deal with this??? There was another lady who was like a love interest and she kept trying to rescue protagonist from the surreal dreamworld but protagonist was like “ITS OKAY, I’M DEALING WITH IT, DON’T WORRY” *thumbs up as the floor dissolves and she falls into her own gigantic eyeball, or something* And then there was another recurring character that was some sort of old man dying in a hospital bed? Like he’d be EVERYWHERE and nobody would aknowledge him! There was a scene of protag attending her old high school while thirty five, and her desk was just the old man from the hospital and everyone kept dumping pencilcases on his face. And protagonist seemed to HATE this old man! Like she was generally a really nice hero character but then would act uncharacteristically vicious talking about this dude, and be like.. angry that none of her taunting would make him wake up and listen. She felt like he was the cause of this whole surreal dream life stuff. And then I also remember there was something about a role reversal? There was some scene with a fisherman who was an old gramps, and protag was twelve, and they had really cute and nice moments together. But then when love interest lady got back to the real world you met the fisherman guy and he was like just a teenager, and apparantly protagonist was the elderly one who inspired him to fall in love with fishing? And you could tell cos they had the same hat.

Anyway, the final big twisty revolution was when love interest convinced protagonist to come with her and wake up! Then we saw an elderly version of love interest waking up in a seat next to a hospital bed, where the same old man was sleeping. It turns out that the protagonist was transgender, and the whole dying dream was about her regrets that she never came out and now it’s too late. She never even told her wife and son cos she was afraid they wouldn’t love her anymore, and she’d be left here dying of cancer without anyone to mourn for her. So yeah, now that her wife knows the thing she was always trying to tell her, she’s able to dress her up in a wedding dress in that hospital bed and like.. she can die happy. There’s no real happy ending, she can’t really wake up and be fine. She can just come out of her coma for a few hours and lay there holding her wife’s hand as she waits for her heart to stop... And that was just... the end. It was a nightmare for me cos it was so fucking sad with no glimmer of hope.

But then kinda when i went back to sleep I had a stupid as fuck genre-changing sequel to it that made no damn sense but i’m gonna pretend its canon okay It was just like suddenly ‘yes, the dream world is actually real! it wasnt just a dying dream!’ and this was actually like limbo for lost souls or something. And wife character had some sort of superpower to go into limbo even though she was alive, like she was part of a legacy of superhero exorcist people or something?? So yeah now that protagonist was dead she was just floating around back in the surreal dreamworld again, waiting for the demons to come pick her up and drag her to hell because Blablabla Fundementalist Religion Says LGBT Is Sin And then wifey punches a hole in the barrier between worlds and gives her a big smooch and I’m pretty sure i actually cried in my sleep! then suddenly it turned into a videogame??? and it was like a platformer rpg? you platformed thru some levels but if you bumped into an enemy it became a turn based battle. when you were platforming it was like you had extra powers while you were holding hands and you had to try and not get knocked apart? and every battle had you in the middle and then some angels on one side and demons on the other, and there were a bunch of creative moves you could do to get the two sides to take each other out, cos they hated each other as much as they hated you. It was like they were all competing to be the one to bitchslap this ~oh so sinful~ soul of a goddamn normal nice grandma who was just trans :< so yeah, trans grandma was all ‘nooo, leave me, i’m deadddd’ and exorcist grandma wife was like FUCK DIS I WILL FIGHT GOD AND SATAN TO SAVE U and then it was a big ol dungeon to get back to the place where she’d punched a hole between dimensions, before a time limit was up and it closed the dream ended before i found out if it succeeded or not but I’d like to believe they totally did escape and lived like 500 more years beating up all the afterlife legions with love power again and again oh, and also trans grandma had little adorable demon wings now, cos god had decided she was going to hell? yeah, that was random and pointless but really cute, dammit. I think maybe she kept her demon powers when she came back to life, so now both of them had superhero abilities and went on fighting crime and stuff. also fisherman son guy totally accepted his mum’s transition and they stayed a happy family. (it took him a little longer to accept the whole ‘hey yo the cancer is cured cos we fought satan and came back from the dead’ part, tho XD)

[gaiatheorist]

Doldrums.

It is a real word, not just a nonsense one. Sailors use ‘Doldrums’ to refer to the Intertropical Convergence Zone, where trade winds meet. It isn’t always in the same place, and, as well as the dangerous becalming that could strand wind-powered vessels, it’s also prone to unpredictable storms.

I’m ‘in the Doldrums’, and have been for quite some time. I’m no more down-in-the-dumps, or under-the-weather than usual, my trade winds are the NHS, DWP, and my son still being here. The unpredictable storms are me, or they would be, if I had the energy. I’m becoming avoidant, and sleeping too much, logical-rational, I’m removing myself from shared space in the house to avoid causing arguments with my son. I could see him giving me the side-eye over the top of his laptop and mine yesterday afternoon, so I withdrew to my boudoir, before I caused a stop-looking-at-me-like-that fight. He looks at me like that because he hates me falling asleep downstairs. I fall asleep downstairs because of the brain injury fatigue, and the insomnia, it’s Saturday, I’ve been up since 2am. 

I’m in several kinds of limbo about things beyond-my-control. I’m becalmed, ‘stuck’ and, until those various ‘Trade winds’ metaphorically pick up, I’m rudderless, going nowhere, completely at the mercy of external forces I have no influence over. My physical health is deteriorating, which invariably knocks-on to my emotional health. My medication isn’t right, it should have been reviewed last October, but then my energy was focused on filling in the first of three ‘How your disability affects you’ forms for DWP. The second and third forms were identical, so at least I could photocopy the 35 pages of additional evidence I’d submitted. I wrote to the Consultant overseeing my pain medication, explaining that I had thought there would have been a review by now, and giving a brief overview of the difficulties I was having with phase 2 of the plan he’d written. I’ve had several falls, and multiple cognitive lapses, if I was neurotic, I’d have turned up at A&E, and asked for a brain scan. The only change-factor has been the medication, so I’m clinging onto that linear-logical, rather than spending time wondering if the third ‘risky’ aneurysm is enlarging. I have the appointment with Neurology in April. It’s a bit “I can see the pub from here.”   

The trigger-point for this period of low mood was the review after the ‘Emotional Coping Skills’ group-work. I’d been a good girl, and written reflections after each session, then compiled my thoughts on whether the course had helped, and what I thought I needed next. The course hadn’t helped, it was two women reading out the worksheets they had given to us, and either ignoring, or misconstruing questions from the group. As in previous reviews, I didn’t know what I wanted next, because I didn’t know what was available. I had, however, analysed my presenting needs, and explained that the combination of C-PTSD, brain injuries, and the autism diagnosis, on top of multiple life-changing events, within a relatively short space of time were the issue. I was about to explain the loss-of-self/bereavement analogy when the woman asking the questions cut me off. “No, you have to pick one.”

“It isn’t one above the others, it’s the combination.”

“Well pick the one that causes the most difficulty day-to-day.” (See what I mean about the not-listening?)

“That’s what I’m saying, it’s the combination of the multiple diagnoses at once that’s the issue.”

“No, you have to pick one.”

My temper flared, “You want me to pick one? It’s that reductive?”

“You can only pick one.”

We’ll just set aside the fact that I’m sitting there with brain injuries, autism, and C-PTSD, and they’re asking me to ‘pick one’. The brain injuries are physical, and the autism is a neurodvelopmental condition. I’m ‘under’ Neurology for the physical impairments relating to the brain injuries, and awaiting an appointment with the Specialist Neurodevelopmental Service for the autism. Piggy-in-the-middle is the C-PTSD. As an added bonus, it’s technically the only one of the telephone directory of ailments I have that’s classified as a mental illness. She wrote PTSD on her sheet of paper, and I corrected her that it was C-PTSD, that we weren’t dealing with one traumatic experience, but multiple. She didn’t like that at all, but wrote the ‘C’, somewhat huffily. 

The rest of the appointment was hideous, she kept talking herself around in circles, that I had found the group-work difficult, so would be likely to find any group-work difficult. Her questions were leading, and not open, and, a couple of times when she noticed my knuckles were white from gripping the chair, and the telltale red flush was creeping from my chest up my throat, she asked me if I wanted to go away and think about it, then book another appointment. I didn’t bite, and I didn’t swear (much), I’ve studied NLP, and recognised her trigger-words, and opportunities to opt-out. She went on another rambling monologue about ‘not wanting to set me up to fail’, and I zoned out. When she paused for breath, I mentioned that my attention was fading fast, and asked her what she would be recommending. I still don’t know, I’m waiting for the letter, I think it’s the ‘Trauma Stabilisation Group’, followed by a 13-week trauma-specific intervention. 

That appointment was after I’d asked for an extension on my OU assignment, but before I’d had to leave a yoga class because my leg went into spasm, and I was worried I’d fall over. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, one of my son’s friends completed suicide. I’ve had ‘a lot on’. 

I’m aware that I’m burrowing, but the pincer movement of physical/mental health being viewed as completely separate issues, and never-the-twain-shall-meet  is incredibly frustrating. DWP-Universal Credit are docking me £47 a month for their mistake, and they don’t know what’s happening with my ‘Limited Capacity for Work’ status, despite the fact that I sent all the forms, and evidence back in October last year. Again, it’s disruptively reductive “That’s not us, you’ll have to ring payments.” and “No, I don’t have access to that, you’ll have to ring direct.” I’m behind on my OU course again, in part because I’ve bent over backwards to send DWP the right evidence, within timescales, but in part because I still, even after all these years, I put ‘myself’ last on every list. The OU course is ‘something for me’, I guilt-trip myself about whether I ‘deserve’ it approximately the same amount as I wonder if I still have as much cognitive capacity as I think I do. 

The pachyderm in the parlour is my son. He finished Uni in June last year, and told me he was taking August ‘off’, before starting to look for a job. He’s probably autistic, and string-logic-wily like me. He was waiting-for this and that, and he’s still here. We have similar and different autistic traits, I hate the way he’s claimed every flat surface in the house as shelves for his gubbins, and he hates the way I repeat myself, and fall over a lot. Neither of us are stereotypically female, but we’re both caught in a compassion trap. He “can’t” move into his Dad’s, because his Dad’s behaviours are even more irrational than mine, (Yes, really) and he can’t move in with the friend he originally said he would go to, because that would bugger up the mate’s student finance. (It wouldn’t, I know how to work around that.) He’s giving me these flannel-excuses because he’s worried about me, and it’s impossible to convey to him that his presence hinders more than it helps  I don’t want to push him away. I do want him to fuck off.

There we go, the reason for my recent lack-of-content, I’m in the Doldrums, I won’t starve, but I don’t know which way the wind will take me.

[mslizardo1-blog]

Squared Life

(kept piece)

by: Melanie Lizardo

In an empty nook a toom mind deceptedly awaits for fodder, dungeon cell for many years of striving for survival yet dead cadaver it claims. Sinister influences corrupted the harns drops to a barn. Vex drives immorality and misdeed. Accompanied with the clashes of dead air and broken window, shattered and fragmented bottle of wine on the side was at sight. That’s the life, a lass is facing.

It all started on a history page of once life. When her parents croak and been beleaguered by the Nestorius world. As she eyed a dusted frame, seeing a joyful smile of a child carried by the perfect family and secured by a comforting hug, she moves to pick it.

The smile of innocence and security plastered on a young girl with a brown eyes lined with curly hair like limbo, pinch her heart and asked herself “what happen to her?” the hands that embraces the neck of the father that expresses trust and fidelity. It makes her blood run that was a long time rotten and never function because of the subjugation exploit. She remembers the years stolen by the clock. On that playground where the picture was taken, the laughers that the broods share and the colorful world it takes.

That was Sunday afternoon, bringing a basket full of cupcakes her mother baked for the family and the mantle that her dad carry for a coating shield on the fine grasses on the ground overlay as the settle down. An ordinary day for incorruptible mind of a toddler concord on the eight years of growth, she used to run to call other kids to play and as they giggle and stubble down of a joyful heart she forgot the counsel of her mother.

“Cris, be careful and never draw farther!” With the most attractive eyes she had ever seen and a calm palm resting on her cheek which tad her whole notice. Taking this as an advice from a mouthful courage and love, she took off.

She unconsciously strides the limit of the lane which she personally doesn’t know. All she has done was to run up until a big noise and shake happen on the ground. “BOOM!” she fell down. As she look forward to the place where it came from and she realized it was from the abode where her family settled—HER FAMILY. She burst in tears.

“MOM! DAD!!”, as she tries to regain her balance she then sees the chaotic people running anywhere with the bloods and bodies on the Earth. She never mind the things she saw. All she desires was to see her family. But as she draws near the exact block her strength little by little mislays as her sight became blur.

Being awaken from the reality, she puts down the frame. And spurt in sobbing, that was ten years ago. But the same perdition is she facing, as she stood up from that nook and look around, she sight a mirror and fluster her. The fluid flows from her eyes for more as she looks upon the naked body she possess and asked herself, “why am I into this?”. She rushes into the bed and bury her body in the soft furniture but later haunt her skin of the numb air touching it. She rolls in to the sheet to hide her dirty figure and evoke for one event.

The newly stray woke up in the white painted room and plastered with a clothes that she didn’t recognized. She was in the HOSPITAL. Upon, hearing the annoying weeps of the residence around her, she remembers the loss of her family. But there is a guy at her side. The sight gets clearer and clearer, it was her uncle—Mike, her father’s brother. She taps the hands of the man. And all of a sudden, the guy woke up. “Cris, oh my goodness, DOCTOR!!!”as the voice registers in her mind, she come to a deep breath and closes her eyes. The last thing that her mind leaves was, “I still have hope”.

The unusual feeling make her decide to bath herself. As she venture to the dark room and enter a small cubicle where she can make it, the tiles’ coldness describes her phatic emotion. She turns the tube’s heater and sinks herself in the flowing water filling the space. Upon watching the water she shakes.

It was the same water that bathes her in the years. After one year of residing to her uncle’s house, she can no longer feel the fear and the sadness on her loss. Knowing that her uncle will protect her on the time of her needs she feels enlightened. Her uncle serves as her refuge, her hope, and her love. He is generous man whom she can associate to her father. The hands that feed comfort and security that she never think or remember the exact time she calls him, “FATHER!.” A nine year old child, whose needing love and seeking principles to counterfeit, as she plays soap and water sings happily on the tub.

“Believe in all that can be

A miracle start whenever you dream

Believe and sing from your heart

Hmmm….hmmmm..”

Though the pain from her loss still lingers, but the existence of her uncle is a reliever of her world. He is a living key to her locked life. The door knob moves and she stop singing and glimpse on the knob. Confident upon knowing that the house are just resided by her, her uncle and one hand maiden Krista, she answers, “Yes?”. “ I’m still taking my bath”.

“ Cris, open the door please?.” A similar robust voice echoed and registered an empty cue for the intention. “Father? Yes…wait.” Hurryingly unlock the door not minding the nudity she is. And run back to the tub.

“ I’m sorry, for the kill.” A sorrowful voice enters the unlock door.

“ Father it’s nothing. What happen to your epoch?” she rap the towel to her body and hug her uncle.

“I nullified the rebates I have.” A sad grunt set free.

“You should be happy for that Father” sounded to be a joyous child for the termination of the lawns her uncle.

“ It’s not what you think” a final declaration that hunts her even now.

Yes, it’s not what I think. I failed because it’s the line on the palm’s scribble and the life that erroneously plotted down. There is Anger, anger not in people that contributed to her grudges but the world that let it happen. Pain has abandoned her because it makes her solitude to hold and not to protest. She shove the legs that has grown as pale as it was and reach to touch a cigarette scan at her stomach this is the mark that kills her hand and bury her to the netherworld.

A cherry hush that rend the innocence and contaminated prickled the jewels of her childhood just the moment a rascal rules to her life. It was hard. As every day the same rascal greets her at the lifeless bed for the feeding. But it’s been 8 years. 8 years of feeding herself with nothing and the rascal feeding to her but factual is…… she is now lifeless….

Since, her hope hoaxes her…..

Antonio is the name of the rascal. The man covers with the hatred on his blood. The man that planned the bombing that kills her parents is the man that draw gamble to her uncle. But the man that she learned to love after 8 years.

Because she is the witness of this man’s greatest ache….. that night..

She hates the harassment that this man contemplate. She has planned this the broken window that can draw a gaze at this heart. As she raise the plate, a sound broke the silence, “please!; senior Miquel my mother needs hospitalization. A loyal servant all her life to your abode” a rascal face but now forms tears for a mother. She put down the plate. And took the nook of the room.

--- My father owns him a life; so I will repay him a life---

(this is so old but am going to post it anyway)

[lostwithoutyourtouch]

“For the record: Yes, I am L. No, I am not dead. I simply cannot remain in my body for longer than three days. I’m working on resolving the issue. However, until it is resolved I’m stuck in a sort of limbo, able to traverse the spirit realm and the human one while unable to interact with most of it. As for what I can do while I’m like this... Well I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”

He was the son of a Dragon and a Queen. He would one day rule the Kingdom of Reverie and this was the kind of situation that could shape him as a ruler for good or ill. He would know which it would be at the end of it, whenever that may be. He looked to Eren’s now resting form glad that the bleeding had subsided for now though he knew it would last until he could figure out how to break this curse.

In fact he was going to stop at nothing to stop it because there was no way in hell he would let it take Eren’s life. When Armin handed him the list he looked it over and memorized all the names on it. There were a few he recognized on it as well, at least professionally. His family had an accord with the Pope and the Vatican and these assholes have all broken it.

It wasn’t until after Leah and the twins left that Levi fully introduced himself to Armin though he was a bit shocked by what he had said. Eren had been the one he had rescued? At least he now knew why he thought his eyes were wrong. He must be wearing contacts since when he saved him his eyes were two different colors but now they weren’t.

“I wasn’t aware that Eren was the person I saved until just now but yes that is me. I’m only comatose because my spirit seems to get kicked out of my body exactly seventy-two hours after I’ve gotten in it. Then it’s usually that long before I can get back in my body again.”

He explained and then raised an eyebrow at Erwin who had arrived before everyone else left.

“Really Erwin? Calling me names behind my back again are we?”

Erwin raised his hands and shrugged. It wasn’t the first time he had called Levi and idiot and he doubted it would be his last. They were long time friends so they constantly called each other on their bullshit. Levi didn’t blame Erwin or anything because even he knew it had been a dumb move but those eyes had captivated him long enough that there had been no time to go through the proper procedures that he should have taken. It was why he was in this predicament in the first place. Why shouldn’t it be counted as idiotic?

After everything was over he simply remained there watching over Eren as he slept though he had never imagined he would say that. That he would rather be dead than linked to him in any way. Though he was a bit surprised because he thought he was trying to become his familiar. That couldn’t be done without a contract and both parties consent.

Levi met Eren in the kitchen after he had gotten dressed and he silently watched him for a moment. He couldn’t believe this at all, he had fallen for him when he had seen his eyes the first time. Then again when they met at Leah’s school, though he hadn’t known who he was at the time. He couldn’t believe that L was just fine for Eren but the real him couldn’t even get him to look at him when they were alone together.

“Fine. I’ll remove the limiter after I say something however. I did not try to become your familiar. To become someones familiar there has to be a contract and both parties must agree to that contract. A familiar never shares the same fate as the master, the contract simply ends. Nor will I die simply because I am channeling your power away from you if you die. Your power would simply cease to flow through me as if I were a pipe guiding it along. I don’t contain your power so I’m not trying to steal or use it at all. I simply wanted to protect you...”

His voice was soft and never raised but clear and audible to Eren’s ears as Levi moved closer and took his hand in his raising up the sleeve of his shirt to expose Eren’s wrist. Levi placed a gentle kiss there and the limiter he had formed appeared as if a golden tattoo upon Eren’s wrist before falling away after Levi had broken it.

“You didn’t need to threaten to die to have it removed. You could have just asked. I didn’t realize you would hate the thought of being linked to me that much... Since you feel that way I won’t show my face before you again.”

There was no hiding the pain in his eyes though he could hide it on his face well, his eyes were a different story. He didn’t need to show his face to Eren to search for the way of ending the curse that was written on his back. He disappeared from Eren’s sight the moment the words had left his mouth. He was still a spirit since his body was currently in the hospital so it was rather easy to move from one space to another.

He had never hated being L before now. He supposed there was a first time for everything. Like falling in love and that person would rather die then be linked to you. Yeah, that was way worse than the person you love being in love with your alter ego. Levi would remain at the house doing research for the next few days. He wouldn’t have to worry about Eren being protected as long as the blonde made sure he carried the scroll around with him.

Even that Fallen God couldn’t defeat all the Gods contained in that scroll. At least not all at once. Maybe if it picked them off one by one. Even then it wouldn’t be able to harm Eren for a while at least. Perhaps if he stayed away from him for a while, Eren might not hate him at least a little bit. He hoped that dinner on Sunday wouldn’t ruin that however. His mom would never let him get out of that dinner anyways.

[andribelieve]

If I'm not Disabled, what am I?

-I’m feeling shitty about myself so here’s a blog post I wrote a while ago.-

If you google "disability" on the internet this is what you will find: "Disability is an impairment that may be cognitive, developmental, intellectual, mental, physical, sensory, or some combination of these."

If you google "disabled" you will get this result: "(of a person) having a physical or mental condition that limits movements, senses, or activities."

I was born with a muscle disorder (myofibrillar myopathy) and scoliosis. If you look up either of those, this is what you will find:

"Myofibrillar myopathy is part of a group of disorders called muscular dystrophies that affect muscle function and cause weakness. Myofibrillar myopathy primarily affects skeletal muscles, which are muscles that the body uses for movement. In some cases, the heart (cardiac) muscle is also affected."

"Scoliosis is a sideways curvature of the spine that occurs most often during the growth spurt just before puberty."

My muscle disordered caused my scoliosis as well as heart problems (restrictive cardiomyopathy) that led to my needing a heart transplant in 2005 at the age of nine.

I'm not perfect and I can't say that I have never used my medical issues as a crutch. If I am too tired to do something or think a task will be too difficult or just really don't want to do it I may use my muscle disorder as an excuse to not participate.

Recently, my mom has started to respond to my "excuses" with "You are not disabled." To which I respond, "Yes I am! I have a muscle disorder!" She then continues to insist that I am not disabled and whether or not she means it in a way to boost my confidence or to squelch my excuses I am not sure.

This statement has really started to get under my skin. If I am not disabled, then what am I? I have severe scoliosis that has left me with a hunched back and limited mobility in my hips. My hips are uneven due to the scoliosis so one of my legs is "longer" than the other. I have a metal rod in my back that protrudes due to my lack of fat and muscle. I have chronic, neck, and leg pain.

Due to my muscle disorder my joints are messed up. My knees cannot straighten so I walk like a grasshopper or a T-Rex. I am unable to lift my arms straight over my head our hold them straight out to the side. My wrists have limited mobility, I can't blow kisses with my hands. It's stupid, but for some reason it's a big deal. I cannot walk very far or stand very long. I've gone to a camp for kids with muscular dystrophy for six years.  At school I ride a scooter, not a mo-ped, a granny scooter. And I'm 4 feet tall.

If you read back to the definitions of "disabled" and "disability" it includes physical impairments that limit activity. I can do a lot of things that's for sure, but these things can be really draining for me. I can't call myself a "spoonie" I don't think. I'm tired by the end of the day, but I know I could have it worse, but to say I'm not disabled? It doesn't make me feel good.

Why doesn't it make me feel good? Well...I feel like my struggles are not validated. This is tough for me because I know that I have grown up with these issues and because of them have developed a complex. I am used to be coddled and taken care of. I know it can be a problem and, yes, I am trying to work on that, but please don't tell me I am not disabled when I clearly am.

It does not boost my self esteem at all. Yes, I struggle with not letting my disabilities define me. I HATE the way my body was made. I really, truly do. However, you telling my I'm not disabled makes me think that I need to work harder to hide my struggles. It makes me think that I am being selfish when I really am in pain.

What would make me disabled in your eyes? Do I have to be completely immobile? Completely dependent upon other people? Can I not be a disabled person who is independent and dependent at the same time just in different circumstances? Please do not tell me that my physical ailments are nothing. They are me. They affect everything.

It is ok to be disabled. I am not offended by you acknowledging that, in fact I appreciate it as long as you do so respectfully. Yes, I need to stop the excuses but you need to stop pretending I am able-bodied like you are. It is hard enough to try and pretend that I can do everything when I physically cannot. Help me believe that I am disabled and it is ok to be so. Help me believe that my crazy, jacked up body is not disgusting.

Please. Just validate me so I don't feel lost in this limbo where I am "not disabled enough" but am also "not able bodied enough."