#Stories from the Unliving

[peribirb]

🦔 <alone on a friday night god i'm pathetic

[malcriada]

another campaign i want to highlight: Khalil Abubaker Khalil lost his employment, as did his father, leaving them all with no chances to support themselves during this war. they have exhausted all of their savings and no longer have hope that the situation in Gaza is going to get better.

that's why this family needs our support. Khalil made a campaign at the beginning of the month for him and his family so they have a chance to evacuate and start a new life in Egypt. time is of the essence. with every passing day, the situation in Gaza becomes more dire, dangerous and unliveable.

tragically, this gfm is only for half of his family: his parents, his youngest sister and himself. many Palestinian families are being forced to decide who gets to evacuate and who stays behind in Gaza, facing an unknown fate. i urge you to read through their story in their own words in the link of the gfm. as of today (06/20/24) they have reached €712 / €30,000, still very far away from their goal. let's help him and his family not only get enough funds but also give them back their hope for a better future.

[lynbeck]

The fact that you travel to Eorzea as a stranger to the realm when the game first begins vs. the fact that you have an Eorzean patron deity makes it very difficult to decide what the fuck is going on with the wol’s backstory fgfghdf

[mangocheesecakes]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Layla Ashoor (@only_one_lulu)

From Layla's instagram: a video of @yousefmoner's father showing us their difficult living conditions, the cramped tent Yousef is forced to stay in, the plastic bags where Sahar keeps her belongings in.

From @mohamedmoner1994's story (posted twice to shorten the length of this post):

If they aren't being bombed and burnt, they are being starved, made to endure unlivable conditions, deprived of life-saving treatment. Please, please, please donate what you can to these two fundraisers.

Please keep Mohamed's children in your thoughts, and his wife Rawa who is suffering from cancer. Please think of Yousef who is only 19, his siblings who are even younger, and the rest of their family.

[sagaduwyrm]

Something that interests me about Girl Genius is the way that the Heterodynes are consistently portrayed as the worst of the worst despite being pretty reasonable by Spark standards.

This is not to say that they are reasonable by normal people standards, or that they were anything approaching decent people. This is pointing out that compared to other sparks, who figured out they could conquer places and immediately started the Long War, the Heterodynes have had little to no large scale negative effect on the world.

Evidence: Zumzum

While in Zumzum Agatha finds out that the Heterodyne raids rolled through the town "every four years or so, sure as the moonrise" (Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess). Despite this the town is, though small, prosperous. They have a fully staffed guard and enough spare income that the circus was initially planning to remain for three days.

Compare this to the numerous dead towns noted to be littering the wastelands. Sparks regularly render towns unlivable or dead. The Heterodynes, however traumatize them and steal their stuff, but still leave the towns they raid capable of functioning. From this we can assume that, despite what we are told, the Heterodynes are not only capable of self-restraint, they're good at it.

Evidence 2: Heterodyne Creations

The Heterodynes left an enduring legacy in the form of constructs, clanks, and the castle. Many of these are hundreds of years old and yet have little trouble functioning. This means that the Heterodynes not only build to last, but their descendants are willing to put in the time for upkeep rather than get distracted and focus on the next big thing.

The Heterodynes are the only sparks with so many creations still running around. Other sparks, like Van Rijn, do have some creations that have lasted the ages, but nothing compared to the sheer quantity of the Heterodynes.

Also, consider the jägerkin. The jägers are some of the most important Heterodyne constructs, and have acted as the core of their army and their honor guard for more than half a millennia. Despite this, they don't have levels of speed or strength much beyond average, at least as far as spark constructs go. Instead, they're noted for their remarkable survivability. This again suggests that Heterodynes prioritize longevity to a remarkable level for sparks.

Evidence the Last: Europa still Exists

I repeat myself, after two centuries of off and on spark warfare, significant amounts of Europa is unlivable. The Heterodynes had ten centuries and Europa was fine. Do the math.

However, despite this show of consistent reason, the Heterodynes are constantly described in story as evil incarnate. I'd like to posit that this suggests both that in-story lore should be taken as unreliable, but also that the most dangerous sparks aren't the flashy, fire and brimstone assholes. It's the consistent, intelligent ones who know when to back off and when to press that are the real danger, and it's for this reason that the continent fears Heterodynes. Not because they're uniquely capable of destruction, but because they know when not to destroy.

The Heterodynes are the oldest dynasty in Europa. To everyone with the slightest understanding of how sparks work, this is terrifying.

Also, here's a post that tries to answer why the Heterodynes are uniquely like this. You should read it. It partially inspired this.

[mandarinmoons]

hi! could I maybe request a spencer x reader where reader is a college student (she's like 20 something) and her exams are coming up and she's really struggling with stress and anxiety and low self esteem and no motivation and in the process shuts spencer off but spencer is a very stubborn and caring boyfriend and tries to help her?

have a great day love! 🫶🏻

Countless papers and empty cups of coffee littered your desk as you were sitting, slouched in your chair. You’d lost count of what time it was, the last thing you remember was that it was around 8:30 in the morning when you woke up, had some toast for breakfast and dove into your studies. Now, the sun was setting and your stomach was aching because of how empty it was and yet you still stayed in the exact same position, scanning your notes and trying to memorize every detail.

You were so deep in your studies that you didn’t hear your boyfriend Spencer let himself in. Spencer looked over your apartment and saw how unlived it looked. Usually your TV would be on with a random show playing in the background and the smell of your favorite candle filling the air, but it was dead silent and no hint of magnolia was sensed anywhere.

As he walked into the kitchen he barely saw any dishes in the sink which made him concerned. Spencer knew that you were working hard on preparing for your final exams, but seeing you not taking the time to take care of yourself worried him deeply.

Spencer walked to your bedroom and sighed when he saw you resting your head on your desk, head nestled between your arms.

“Sweetheart…”,

He made his way to you and rested his hand on your head, his thumb caressing over your hair. The act of affection awoke you and you stayed put as you let Spencer comfort you.

“I think you’ve been working too much.”

“I’m okay.”

Spencer crouched down to your level and brushed the hair out of your face, “Your face says otherwise.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and a light chuckle left his lips. Spencer was always worried about your well being and especially for the past few weeks. You had a habit of throwing yourself into your work and giving it your all, but in the process you’d forget to take care of your basic everyday needs and Spencer was adamant about reminding you of the smallest of tasks, from brushing your teeth to drinking enough water.

“Spencer, I’m alright. You don’t have to keep checking up on me.”

Spencer wanted to believe you, but the tears in the corners of your eyes told a different story.

“I’m fine Spence, really,” the tears poured down your face before you had a chance to hide them, your throat burning as you tried to hold back a cry.

Feeling ashamed, you wiped at your cheeks harshly and Spencer pulled you tight into his chest, one hand still caressing your head while the other one rested on your back.

Sobs racked through your body as all the pent up stress finally had a chance to be let out, shaking from anxiety and hiccups being choked out.

After some time, your cries calmed down and you felt your body go limp in Spencer’s arms, as the crying had exhausted you to the point where you thought you would fall asleep right then and there.

Before you had a chance to let the exhaustion consume you, you felt Spencer pick you up and lay you down on your bed. He crawled down next to you and brushed his thumb over the red streaks across your cheeks. He looked so sad, seeing how your state of being affected him so much made you feel guilty. Why couldn’t you have taken more breaks? Spencer was probably scolding you inside his head for skipping lunch so many times.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“You’re not?”

Spencer shook his head and rubbed his thumb over your temple, “I could never be mad at you.”

Another set of tears were burning your eyes as you took in his words. Before they had a chance to spill over, Spencer nuzzled closer and kissed your cheek a few times causing you to giggle.

“I hope you know you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“I know.”

“Good, now,” Spencer pulled you close into his chest, the smell of his cologne instantly putting you at ease. It's as if the anxiety attack you experienced not too long ago never even happened.

“I want you to stay put for the next hour or so, just rest and then later we’re going to take a bath and have a nice dinner, how does that sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” your face was already tucked into the crook of his neck, feeling Spencer squirm lightly as your breath tickled his neck.

It always amused you how sensitive he was and you were trying your best not to place a kiss to the skin of his neck as you knew he’d erupt into laughter, a sound that easily made even the worst days brighter, but you decided not to tease him, for now at least.

What was supposed to be an hour of cuddling, turned into both of you waking up at 9 PM, dazed and not knowing what planet either of you were on.

Seeing that it was a little too late to prepare dinner at this time at night, you both settled on frying some eggs & bacon and Spencer cut up some fruit for the side, as well as telling you some fun facts about them.

“Did you know that bananas are full of several types of antioxidants that are linked to reduced risk of heart disease and macular degeneration?”

“I do now.”

As you finished eating, Spencer wouldn’t let you go back to sleep until you had a shower. You huffed and got in the shower, letting the warm water run down your body as you lathered your loofah in soap.

Walking out of the bathroom clean & fresh, you walked to your bedroom and a gasp left your lips as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room was lit up with candles, the signature scent of magnolia in the air. The bed was covered in multiple pillows and blankets, making it the coziest spot you’ve seen in a while, while the papers on your desk were organized into neat stacks.

“How’re you feeling?”

Turning your head, Spencer walked in and held two mugs, the smell of peppermint emanating from them. Peppermint tea, once again, one of your favorites.

“A lot better now, thanks,” Spencer handed you the mug as the both of you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N, you can’t keep going on like this.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes settled on the mug in your hands as Spencer’s hand found its spot on your lower back again.

“Don’t be sorry, just try to tell me when you need some help, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Spencer pressed his lips to your forehead in a kiss before resting his own forehead against yours, as a simple act of intimacy that meant the whole world.

“Now c’mon, let’s have our tea before it gets cold.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream

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[selarina]

thinking about marrying crown prince!gojo and you're not naive on your first night. you made it a point not to be— you made your handmaiden sneak in some articles with illustrations that had rattled something within you. they were strange and some were even gruesome but you were prepared.

but when the night came and you changed out from your heavy wedding dress to your dainty sheer nightgown, the prince merely walked in and offered you his robe— baffled, you took it and covered yourself. partly, because you were cold but mostly because you felt insecure. maybe he didn't find you attractive enough?

but that night was the first night the two of you just spoke. he told you stories you'd never heard before— he was unlike any man with so many adventures to tell. it made you a bit sad for yourself, for your unlived life. so little and narrow, with nothing interesting to tell.

but he asked anyway— took such keen interest in your narrow world. he asked about the garden you liked, the colour of the swing, the flowers you picked, the first time you fell, the first boy you liked— it was all a bit too much for you — too genuine. you think you could actually love this man.

that night you didn't undress each other. you didn't have sex. you wouldn't for a long time since that day but you were strangely okay with that, despite custom.

that night before your wedding, the two of you just talked and talked and sipped on wine till you fell asleep next to each other.

some where in the middle of the night, your bodies would find each other, all clothed, but you wouldn't know since he'd be the one to wake up first. he would slowly find a way to leave your arms without waking you, and then he'd spend the first half of the early morning staring at who he thought was the most beautiful future queen this kingdom could've had.

[ventique18]

Reiterating my last reblog, I feel like people are bashing Malleus just because of the fact that Ortho looks like a child and his companions happen to look like dogs (they are unliving robots).

If you actually read the story and not just the bits and pieces that people on Twitter post about, Malleus asks Ortho why he's here and not asleep at Diasomnia. Ortho explains that he's basically an undying ghost and he'll come back with another body no matter how many times Malleus makes him fall asleep. He asks Ortho to permanently get the fuck out of his domain. Ortho refuses and mocks him. Malleus considers him a nuisance to his plans-- a threat to the happy ending that he thinks his loved ones deserve, and decides that incapacitating Ortho would finally shut him up.

He thinks Ortho and his pets are immortal. He knows he wouldn't kill them. So he destroys them.

He destroys Ortho's body, but leaves his core, his soul, completely unharmed.

He's cruel, but he does not want to kill people. What he wants is what he thinks is the opposite: to let them live forever in bliss and harmony, away from tears, from loneliness, away from death.

[jaydenknight]

Cats of ReefClan

Some designs I had made for a now defunct file. All of the cats except for Cavemist were renamed by me lmao, I wanted the names to be on theme. Ospreykit became a warrior and I named her Ospreydusk, Pelicankit became Cavemist’s medicine cat apprentice (decided by the RNG) and I named him Pelicandawn.

The story I had made was that these cats were originally from a clan called CliffClan, but their territory was made unlivable by Twolegs and a fire broke out that had killed the majority of the clan. These 7 jumped into the sea below the cliff and stayed afloat on a fallen tree, eventually washing up on a faraway shore. Seaspray was made leader at only 16 moons because he was the son of CliffClan’s leader, Galestar.

My inspiration for the story came from the song Alone and Forsaken by Hank Williams.

The file is now defunct because at some point Seastar’s personality changed to bloodthirsty and I hadn’t realized until after I had saved over it and the story turned an entire 180 degrees and I just hated how it ended up. But I had already drawn these up and I really liked how they turned out so I’m posting them anyway.

[mrinafria]

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)

[contains spoilers; tw: blood]

When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.

It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.

And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.

I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.

However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.

Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.

Let that sink in for a moment.

He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.

Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.

And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.

His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.

And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.

Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.

The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.

One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?

Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae

[greenolivebranchs-blog]

Please help save my family from the Gaza war🙏

Dear humanity🤍

I am Hana from Gaza, from a family of 10 members, my parents and four brothers (one of whom is injured) and their children.

Today we suffer from a war that is the fiercest in history in our lives, where we miraculously survived the massacre of Karama neighborhood on the date of October 10 after we were evacuated by the ambulance after besieging and completely destroying the area.

Then we were displaced several times until we reached the south of the sector and we are now suffering from the most difficult conditions of our lives after the loss of our house and everything we have where we live in dilapidated tents that are unliveable.

Our beautiful home was our only refuge and source of warmth and happiness, full of dear memories, carrying in every corner the story of our childhood and youth. It was destroyed and we lost everything we owned.

This is my brother's house that he recently built and has only lived in for five months. We were so happy that our family began to expand and realize its dreams. But unfortunately it was destroyed and everything was lost.

I hope you hear our cry and extend a helping hand to help us meet our daily needs of food, water and security shelter.

Your kindness, support and sharing our story is our only hope for the survival of the family and the save of our lives 🙏💔

https://gofund.me/a0a5130b

[violinsolos]

Fall of the House of Guilt

There's something to me about Fall of the House of Usher where, when I started watching it, my first impression was "This is taking a lot from Poe aesthetics but not really Poe themes." So much of Poe is about guilt when you get down to it--the guilt of the partygoers in Masque, the killers in Black Cat and Telltale Heart, even the guilt of the crime in Rue Morgue. All those stories are basically about how guilt fundamentally alters your psyche and makes the world an unfathomable and unlivable place, because the only way to live with your own brutalized mind is to separate from it. And Fall of the House of Usher is sort of about people (Roderick and Madeline mainly) who are fundamentally incapable of real guilt, or the empathy that would produce guilt, due to their eagerness for power, their trauma, and their sense of entitlement.

How do you make a billionaire feel guilty? How can you, in any way, communicate the human cost of their actions, the impact on the environment, the far-reaching ripples of their greed and translate that into real human empathy necessary for guilt?

But then I thought... Oh, that's the point.

Usher is a reverse Christmas Carol. No matter how much Verna talks, kills, shows the bodies, it will never be enough to penetrate through the narcissism and power and trauma of cruelty and wealth to revive the long-dead hearts beneath. No matter how far she goes, how many children she kills, at the end, it's still all about living forever, legacy, for these people.

It didn't have to be this way.

I sort of like this as a sideways-swing at Poe. The horror isn't the guilt. The horror is the utter lack of it.

[gotham-daydreams]

(TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING, PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU AREN'T OKAY AND THANK YOU IF YOU DO READ IT ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️)

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Ngl I want to read a yanbatfam! fanfic where the neglected reader just unlives themselves especially when batfam gives off the whiny "we're sorrryyy 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺" victim complex abuser vibes, I know I wouldn't be able to live with such annoying ass yanderes

Honestly, that's fair! And I've gotten quite the bunch of asks that basically, y'know, ask what'd happen if the reader straight up kills themself in the Not [ ] Series, and I get it! Especially with... how things are going to get, and generally the family's behavior, LMAO

I think the only problem is that with the Batfam, there's no way to really like... stay dead? Hell, even just in DC- there are too many ways someone could be revived thanks to writers and such just... refusing to let certain characters stay dead. I mean, the family has the fucking lazarus pit, so if you die then they can just revive you- even if you do come back more fucked up then before.

Death isn't the end for those guys, and even if the pit wasn't a thing... I don't think it'd be totally out there or insane to think that they'd go full mad scientist mode to try and find a way to revive you somehow in some way.

Or, like... wasn't there a whole plot where Bruce 'died', only to be found lost in time or something? Well, what if they just went back in time to stop you from ending it all? If anything - with every attempt, it'd definitely begin to feel like those guys are clairvoyant or something from your end.

All in all, it sucks... and really, the only way to really get away would be to run and try to be as careful as you could be. And sure, that in it of itself definitely sounds impossible, but I think its just extremely difficult since... well, they are human, no? There's so many of them, and they're all smart as hell that it gets annoying at some point, but I don’t believe it's impossible.

Which... definitely isn't foreshadowing for some of the other stories I have lined up LMAO

Though, yeah, all around... even in death, they still find ways to be a pain in your ass HAHA, gotta hate it sometimes! Dunno, maybe someone should try to like... kill them...

[stevebabey]

a piece that alas, will never get finished 😔 the bath fic that was once discussed, half written, and left to rot in my tumblr drafts. i hope u can read the seeds i was planting and see the vision i had even if i never could write it <3

Hot water is, indisputably, a luxury in the Munson household.

Far as Eddie knows, the same goes for the whole damn world.

Hot water is something sacred. Something to be used scarcely, lest you drain the tank and have only cold water to wash your plates and yourself in for the rest of the week.

It's not the worst, but, well, then again Eddie can think of few things worst than needing a shower during the colder winter months when the water splutters out lukewarm and the cold trickles in right when he's in the middle of washing his hair. It sucks. Always sends him to bed with the shivers.

Hell, sometimes he'd even do the mile at school just for a chance to get in the showers first — dashing in for the free hot water that only lasted a good couple minutes.

It was worth it though, Eddie thought.

Both the exercise and the sneers, in exchange for getting to be truly warm for the first time since he'd gotten out of bed that day. Warm showers will do that to you though.

Eddie's heard stories of places, of faraway like Hawaii or somewhere, where it gets so warm that when it rains, the water sometimes rains down already warm. Like a great big shower for the whole place.

He reckons if that ever happened here in the middle of nowhere Indiana, he'd be out dancing in the streets in the warm rain. Soaking it all in. Taking not a single drop for granted.

Steve's house, as Eddie has discovered, has more than one shower — because it's got multiple bathrooms.

In the time he's been hunkered down there, his sides patched up roughly and healing at what feels like a snails pace, Eddie has taken to exploring the empty halls of the Harrington House.

It's... enormous. Gargantuan. Fucking massive.

There's rooms with doors that never open. Rooms that Eddie's never even seen Steve go near. Endless doors and cupboards and an upstairs and downstairs, and far too many garages for one just couple and their son.

Eddie explores them all.

It stems from his boredom, of course, because patient isn’t one of the words used to describe Eddie Munson but restless certainly is.

He wanders aimlessly, under the guise that he needs to keep using the muscles in his legs while he heals up but truthfully, he loves a good snoop.

Soon enough, the driving force of his wandering transforms from boredom to… curiosity.

Steve Harrington has always been an enigma to Eddie.

Upholder of conventional standards and the heterosexual gaze turned, well, loser, in the manner of a couple months- it was jarring to say the least.

Especially to the likes of people like Eddie, for whom he had represented everything wrong with small town Hawkins. Rich meathead jocks who pay their way through school.

Eddie always figured he’d had a fucking mansion of a house but this place… it’s unsettling, seeing so much space, so unlived in.

It’s even more unnerving how Steve just… doesn’t take up space.

Even in his own home. Steve’s bedroom doesn’t sprawl out, it’s not packed with possessions and hobbies like Eddie knows his own is. His wallpaper matches his sheets, picked out by someone who clearly doesn’t know Steve.

Everything is tidy because Steve seems to have this neatness ingrained deep within him. He putters around, on auto pilot sometimes, to keep the space clean for parents who don’t seem to come home.

When Steve's out at work and it's just Eddie, wandering aimlessly to keep the strength in his legs, the loneliness of the place yawns down the halls. Consuming. Suffocating.

He’s found himself eagerly awaiting Steve's arrival home from work, if only to hear someone else's voice other than his own.

Today, Eddie's searching has lead him here— into the master bedroom’s ensuite and they have a goddamn fuckin’ bathtub.

It’s a proper fancy type one with clawed bronze feet and a wide lip, made of sparkling clean marble. The type he might describe for that is a King in a campaign, just to be on the nose about how wealthy and greedy this character was.

He’s so transfixed on it that he doesn’t even hear Steve jimmying his keys into the lock, coming home.

It isn’t until— “Eddie?”

Eddie jumps, startled, as Steve’s hand touches on his shoulder lightly. His goal to not scare the other boy doesn’t go as intended, considering how much Eddie flinches but the moment he turns his head, his face is relaxing.

“Fuck, dude,” He breathes a sigh of relief, lips quirking into a smile. “Didn’t hear you come up.”

Steve shrugs a bit and scratches behind his ear, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie nods, but his gaze has already shifted back to the tub before them. Steve follows his gaze easily, an easy chuckle passing his lips.

“I see you found the bath.”

“Yeah…” Eddie says, sounding a bit breathless, his voice distant. Steve glances over, trying to understand the strange emotion toying on Eddie’s features. It’s just a bath. Steve hasn’t even been allowed to use it before, sure, but he likes his own shower just fine.

“It was such a bitch to get it in when they first got it,” Steve explains, folding his arms across his chest as he recalls the memory.

He points his finger behind him to the doorway without moving his arm. “Knocked down a whole wall ‘cos they couldn’t get it to through the doorway. To be honest, I’ve always thought it was kind of ugly.”

He’s waiting for Eddie to say something. For the joke, for the sneering comment on his parent’s fortune, for any lippy spiel that usually gets under Steve’s skin in the best way. The longer Eddie stays quiet, the more it begins to worry Steve.

It’s as though Eddie hasn’t even heard him.

Steve clears his throat and tries again, his tone light and delivered with a chuckle. “Man, you’d think you’ve never seen a bath before.”

Eddie’s head snaps toward Steve. He finally breaks his trance, regrettably just to snap at Steve. “I have, thank you very much.”

Steve feels a bit of embarrassment bloom over his cheeks, wanting to backtrack on his poor joke instantly but before he can open his mouth Eddie is already softening, hackles falling. His eyes are back on the bath.

“Just… haven’t even taken one.” He admits softly.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what’s going through Eddie’s mind — can’t come close to understanding what forlorn nostalgia is tugging at Eddie’s gut.

“Not really, I don’t think.” He continues. He pauses to think, head tilting back just a bit. “When I was really little, maybe. Little enough to fit in the sink or— or something.”

Eddie seems to realise he’s letting whatever thoughts he’s having drift out of his mouth and promptly snaps his jaw shut, teeth clacking as he does. He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t want to see the pity or the sympathy or the—

“Anyways,” Eddie huffs a breath, turning to leave his newfound discovery on the exploration of the Harrington House.

When—

“Do you want to?” Steve asks suddenly. His voice is sincere. “Take one?”

Eddie blinks. Wonders if it’s a joke, that it’s being offered out just so it can snatched away and Steve can laugh at how desperate Eddie is to actually be given this. He has to hastily remind himself that Steve wouldn’t do that to him.

There’s no containing the excitement rushing in his voice when Eddie spits out, “Can I?”

Steve chuckles, an easy smile at the other’s eagerness.

It’s easy to overrun the instinct that’s ingrained deep, not to cross the little rules his parents have scattered through the house — easy because he’s doing it more and more with Eddie here.

They’d eaten off his mom’s expensive and untouched china on the first night Eddie had managed to get up and about to eat downstairs, instead of tucked in bed.

He’d been so keen to help, proclaiming that he’d set the table for the both of them— too excited to be up and moving to remember that he and Steve weren’t usually as buddy-buddy as they were acting.

Steve had soaked in it greedily. Warm brown eyes, saccharine smile, he’s found that Eddie sort of glows when he’s happy. And that giving him good food is one of the ways to stir up that happiness.

But even then, Steve had paused seeing the plates in Eddie’s hands, an instant stone in his throat because he isn’t allowed to use those ones.

Sputtering through a sentence, Steve swallowed the stone and skipped over the rule he’d never broken before. It was worth it for the smile on Eddie’s face.

Just like it’s worth it now. Seeing the awed smile on his face, already a little jittery at the thought of a bath… Steve’s embarrassed to find he can’t really say no to him.

He keeps that to himself though, because if Eddie knew that he’d be batting his eyelashes and making every demand known to Earth. But then again, that didn’t sound so bad either.

Christ, Steve thinks to himself. He’s so screwed.

[nataliesscatorccio]

you don't have to believe me but adult Allie is the fulfillment of Jackie's unlived life let me explain. straightaway Allie is positioned under Jackie's wing, both girls absent from the team singing and dancing together between the lockers. Jackie is doing Allie's facepaint and giving her a pep talk like the one she's immediately about to receive from Coach Martinez. ready or not, these girls have responsibilities on their shoulders now that are above their skill level—and if they can't perform they'll be cut out. Allie is too concerned with prom and dates while the other girls are concerned with winning nationals; Jackie eventually dies for prioritizing what the group come to feel are the wrong things. Allie and Jackie, with their preoccupation for the functionally useless achievement markers of society, stand in the way of the team's survival. Allie, like Jackie, obliviously says the wrong thing with good intention, accidentally prioritizes her needs over the needs of the group (and yes i do count Shauna's wellbeing as a need for Jackie), and ultimately will be sacrificed in a horrible and graphic way when the team decides they can't move forward and win (read: survive) with her holding them back. Allie's leg is destroyed, but it's seen as a kindness when compared to the extent of the agony getting on the plane bound for nationals would have brought her. Jackie's death is heartbreaking, but Natalie knows right away that it was lucky for her to die then, because things were going to get worse. it's easy to believe the narrative Shauna later acts out to fulfill Jackie's life. but she's a writer, and a liar, and neither Jackie nor Shauna knew the other as well as they wanted to think. in some ways it's just a story Shauna is telling herself. the not unspoken truth is that Jeff was the high school boyfriend. and at the twenty-five year reunion Jackie wouldn't have been sitting next to him, Shauna did not take her place. Jackie would have been organizing the get together, quoting worddefinition.net (*Beaches) in her speech, offending someone, forcing people into group photos, and making cheesy nostalgiabait slideshows to Enya.

[fallinfl0wers]

i love you more than you'll ever know

fandom: genshin impact characters: albedo, venti, zhongli, xiao, wanderer reader type: gender neutral summary: yearning for someone came hand in hand with heartache. genre: angst and fluff, hurt/comfort. warnings: implied reader's death, also implied character death (xiao and wanderer kinda uh want to unlive themselves but not explicitly? i think?), mourning, slight sumeru spoilers for wanderer's. written as of 3.2 update. notes: inspired by hikaru utada's one last kiss. might do a part two, not sure when it'll be ready haha. xiao's and wanderer's are longer because i love them and i was feeling sadder as i wrote them so lol there they are. i'm sleepy but i wanted to finish these... i'll see if theres anything i need to edit tomorrow.

The meaning of this world, the truth of this world, Albedo thinks, is held within your hands. It is perhaps not the one he was looking for, or the one he had been expected to find, but personally? He would take this as the truth of the world.

Love is the truth of this world, the meaning of all sentient existence. The love one takes and gives, selflessly yet selfish al the same. The kind of love one feels from friends and family and lovers. Love is what really gives the world a meaning for those who live in it.

And for him, it is your love that fills his life with a new meaning.

Love that made him step away from experiments and investigation to take a stroll through the city, love that made him blush and giggle, love that brought a foreign yet sweet warm sensation to his chest, love that you held within your hands every time your fingers intertwined.

Love that somehow, with no reasoning or explanation, survived through all the uncertainty of fate, and the undeniable, unescapable cycle of life and death.

When your and Albedo's story is forced to come to a stop, he won't deny he felt his whole world came crashing down. Yet, more than anything, he feels grateful.

Perhaps at that time, he still would not find the truth of the world his master wanted him to. But one thing is for sure, and that's because of you, and everything you taught him.

If time and chance allow it, his love for you will be immortalized in paintings exhibited in museums; depictions of you and him, and you, you, you and you. Even when he, himself, has long since disappeared, that last trace of your love, of the truth of his world, will be preserved.

For Venti, freedom is everything. He would never tie you down so you could stay with him, even if that is what he would want the most. However, that also means he will not stop you if you, of your own free will, decide to spend the rest of your life with him.

He is selfish, just not selfish enough to decide what is best for you in your stead. This is why, he wholeheartedly decides to love you back without holding anything back, living each day like it is the last, enjoying the present doing anything and everything and nothing all at the same time.

It's ballads and tales, it's drinking and laughing at his silly shenanigans when he gets drunk, it's enjoying the breezes as you glide together and resting on the green hills and valleys of Mondstadt together, every day something new, every day a new memory to keep.

But, he knows, this won't last.

He is very well acquainted with loss, and the fragility of human life.

That is why he insisted on spending so much time together, it is why he was always clingy whenever the timing was right, why he insisted on making you laugh and smile every single day you were together.

The years spent together may seem long to you, even as you took your final breath. Yet, for him, it truly felt like it had been merely the blink of an eye. A momentary sigh, a brief instant of happiness.

Venti will sing ballads of you, for an audience of people or the always reliable, always present audience of the winds. And he knows that, even once his days come to an end, and until the end of this world, your love will be preserved, for eternities to come.

There is, after all, no world where the wind doesn't blow, even if it has come to an stop.

For Zhongli, contracts are everything. In his eyes, promises made are promises kept, and that is precisely what he does.

To you, he promised his love. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, in life and death. In his own experience and words, everything must come to an end and every journey has its final day, but there is no need to rush. This is why, he never makes it a point to consciously think about the clock mercilessly ticking by as you spend your life with him.

Zhongli, the human, lives with you and shares countless experiences after experiences with you. From the simplest glance to the longest conversation to the harshest of arguments to the sweetest of kisses, Zhongli makes sure to live it with you, in the present moment, mind focused on here and now, carving each memory into his heart with the same precision an artist would carve a statue out of the finest jade.

The former god understands and accepts your mortality, and accepts it as a part of what makes you be who you are. He accepts it, and holds your hand, ever so resilient, as you take your last breaths, and bids you goodbye with a grateful smile and teary eyes.

Perhaps the legends of the mighty God of Contracts will never talk about your love, but even if there is no one left to share your memories with him, until erosion eventually claims him too, his heart won't stop beating for you.

Xiao would be lying if he said he never once doubted your sanity in the time he's known you. After all, why would you do something so terrible to yourself like willingly spending time with him? You must've been insane, he thought.

But, in reality, he was glad you were that little bit insane enough to open a space for him in your life.

From the very start, he's known you wouldn't be there forever. He is all too aware of how fragile life is, of how ephemeral you truly are. Like the sweetest of dreams, you feel like a fragile illusion of happiness that will be gone in the blink of an eye. Oh, but you are real, you are oh so real, and he knows it when you cradle his face with your hands and gently wipe the tears that silently fall down from his tired eyes that stare ahead, filled with complicated emotions, on a face far too unused to emoting, on a body far too small for the true amount of feelings that resided within it.

And he is quiet but his mind is loud, keeps him hyper aware of how short these moments of joy and peace are with you. And, although he would've never blamed you if you ever decided to leave him of your own will, he is glad you never did, he is glad that you would never do so. He is glad that you decided to spend your days with him, glad you were patient enough to wait for him to learn how to properly love you, glad you let him love you.

The days spent with you are easily the best fragment of Xiao's life. Short-lived, ephemeral, dreamlike, everything. Unforgettable.

He would like to keep you forever. His most selfish, impossible dream is for you to stay forever by his side. Greedy he is, but never enough to burden you with such thoughts. Instead, he took every opportunity he had to spend time with you, no matter what you were doing, he wanted to be there, even if it was in a place he didn't like, he didn't want to waste a single second of your life.

When you depart from the world of the living, a part of him leaves with you.

And, Xiao knew when he fell in love. You would be the death of him.

He won't last long after you leave.

He'll do his best to live, because he knows you would want him to live, but he truly won't be able to do so for long.

Legends will speak of the tragically beautiful love that Liyue's last Yaksha had towards a human, speak of how he learned how to be human for love, of how his love was so intense and pure it was the only thing that kept him tied to the world of the living for years to come.

And when Xiao's time comes, he smiles as he sheds tears and looks up at the infinite blue sky.

When the light leaves his eyes, and his last breath is a sweet proclamation of his everlasting love for you, he knows.

He will see you in another life, in another world.

It took him three betrayals to finally understand: the world is an elaborated tapestry of lies.

It took him pain and humiliation, having his one purpose taken away, for him to understand: just because you want something, that does not mean you will get it. No matter what you do, if the world decides you won't have it, then you won't.

Receiving kindness from the dendro archon was and the blessing of an anemo vision were some of the things that set him on the right path to find his true wishes on his own, but most importantly, your existence in his life made something inside him turn and twist. You filled him with an achingly bittersweet yearning to love and be loved, you made him want to trust, made him willing to endure pain and betrayal if it meant he could spend eternity with you.

Eternity, the concept that his creator was (or still is, he wouldn't know) so obsessed with, obsessed with enough to discard him like worthless dross and abandon him to fend for himself with no instructions or expectations. Now, Wanderer felt as though he could understand her just a bit.

Or maybe a lot.

Eternity stretches things over a long time, but each moment within it becomes all the more fragile.

Nevertheless, when he had you, when you loved him, he finally understood why his mother was so desperate back then to attain eternity. He, too, when affronted with the harsh reality that you and your comforting warmth would not be around for long, desperately wished for a miracle to happen so he could stay forever with you. You living forever or him going with you once you left, he cared not, he only wanted you you you you and nothing else.

But, as he discovered, after long periods of anger and denial over painful feelings, acceptance is sure to come.

You are not like him in the slightest. Born human, with a heart of your own, knowing kindness and happiness from people around you, while his body was just a mere imitation of human flesh, an empty husk unfit for the only task he was created to perform. Yet, you still loved him as though he was not an easily replaceable abomination, but a human.

After you're gone, he cries the most he's ever cried. Rests his head on your chest that has long since stopped moving up and down with your breathing while his ears are met with silence when before he would listen to your comforting heartbeat, and he cries.

It will be long before the life of the Wanderer comes to an end- after all, he was created to endure an eternity functioning. Every dawn and every sunset, every passing breeze and station, he will remind the days you were together, and smile, as the empty space in his chest weeps silently, waiting, longing, hoping there exists a day in which he can meet you again.

For now, now that you're not with him anymore, he would simply keep walking, chasing the breeze that blows on a bright afternoon.

fallinfl0wers. 2022.