#and it’s always been so far and unachievable though

[autistic-bibliophile]

SO IM APPLYING TO SCHOOLS FOR NEUROSCIENCE SOON AND MY BRAIN CANNOT HANDLE THE FACT THAT THE FUTURE IVE ALWAYS WANTED IS LESS THAN A YEAR AWAY AND ILL BE LIVING ALONE WITH MY CAT AND SERVICE DOG IN A COOL APARTMENT I CAN DECORATE MYSELF AND GO TO SCHOOL FOR MY ACTUAL SPECIAL INTEREST AND LITERALLY WHAT THE HECK HOW IS IT SO CLOSE

[drownedbycoffee]

THEY AREN'T THE FEARS ANYMORE!! THEY'RE DESIRES

(SPOILERS for TMA, and all of TMAGP episodes so far)

Okay, here me out

Tmagp1: Darla wants to hear Arthur's voice again. She even says: "I just couldn’t face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again, I had to try" and later on she even says: "But I had to know, so I went to the cemetery."

Tmagp1: RedCanary wants to know about the Magnus Institute. They want to know why it's listed under 'cleared' when there's no evidence of it. Hence why they go and explore it.

Tmagp2: Daria wants that absolute perfection. She wants to change who she is and get out of that dark place. When she talks about the thing that she felt was missing, she says, "... and that’s when I decide I need a tattoo. I had a couple already – just little things on my shin and my wrist – but I decided I needed something big. Something that really changed my look." She also mentions when talking about Ink5oul that "they just kept pressing me about my life, about why I wanted the ink" instead of asking what design she wanted. And when she got the tattoo she describes herself as now being, "Someone I wanted to know more about." Afterwards she even says how "For the first time ever [she] wanted to attempt a self-portrait. Something real and physical, [she] wanted to feel the brushes in my hands and the oil on [her] fingertips." I think a lot of her statement is about her desire and impulsive need for that perfection and that wholeness that she has been aspiring to for her whole life.

Tmagp3: Samuel wants to stay hidden. He wants and he "need[s] to get up, get out of here for treatment." He wants to get better and most of his delirious thoughts are the things that he wants, or feels like he needs. E.g. "I so much want to see it [the sun] again. This night seems endless. I want to be warm again. I am terribly afraid. Thank god for Maddie. I need to treat her better."; "I just need to rest."; "I need to be careful or we’ll drift apart." And then obviously as the narrative continues, Samuel wants to grow and 'put down roots'.

Tmagp4: The narrator wants to be revered and accepted into the Royal Court Orchestra of the Palatinate. He wants to show off and impress. The violin "was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh." It has these needs and desires.

So far, I'm interpreting it to be that everything so far can be interpreted as a desire of sorts, varying in the strength and intensity of it. Obviously, fear is still a big part of it all, because if you want something so badly, aren't you afraid of it being stolen from you? Of it being out of your grasp? Of it being unachievable or impossible in some capacity? Of it being a lie?

Even Sam wants to find out more. He wants to know the why and the reason for things. Gwen wants Lena's job. Collin wants to fix all these bugs and keep Freddie running. Alice wants to just get on with it because she found out that wanting to know the 'why' of things is dangerous.

I think that somehow when the Web took all the Fears into a different universe, they morphed into something else. Or they changed to fit what was the most prevalent thing in that universe, because after all, everyone wants something, even if it's something small and inconsequential. Life and aspects of it has always been characterised by that desire for something. Like people wanting food, shelter, safety, love, warmth, happiness, etc. And I think since the Web was so intwined with Jon and Martin, it absorbed some of their emotions when it found its way into this new world, because after all Jon and Martin wanted to stop Jonah/Elias, to stop the apocalypse, to destroy the Panopticon, to be safe, and they wanted each other. I think the wanting and fear of things are really entwined in it all, though this could be absolute bullshit haha

[myoddessy]

MIRRORBALL | dream of the endless

pairing: dream of the endless x goddess of love!reader

summary: you went by many names. cupid, aphrodite, venus, freyja, some simply called you what you were, love. but, to morpheus, you needed no name other than his, and in the dim light of a ballroom, he admires your glow.

notes: morpheus + taylor swift = my happiness, even if most of it is sad. you're safe with this one, though 💞 agápi means love in greek, it's only used once but you can pry the thought of fiddlers green using greek words as terms of endearment for those he truly cares about from my cold dead hands.

warnings: no show/comic spoilers!!, angst (mild), fluff, they're so in love it's sickening, fiddlers green is my fav and you can tell.

word count: 1.7k

the playlist.

"are you alright, dear love?" fiddlers green questioned, pulling you from your stupor as you ran your finger across a daisy's petal.

"yes, as always. why do you ask?"

"well, and please forgive me for being frank, you seem somewhat reserved today. you are usually full of stories after blessing day, and you've been silent since you've joined me." you wished to deny it, but he was right.

blessing day, what mortals called valentine's, was your busiest dawn. be it weddings, proposals, births, confessions, or simple matchmaking, almost every mortal across the waking world had some form of request for you. and, just as fiddlers green had said, most years you were bursting at the seams with adoring anecdotes.

you told him of every arrow you'd strung, every vow you'd guided, every first kiss you'd officiated, and he listened gladly. besides, there's not much he could do to stop you from talking.

what was different this year, however, was their thanks for your gifts, or, in this case, lack thereof.

you were all too aware of the fact that mortals did not rely on you, and you were far more dependent on their faith than they were on your blessings, but the mere whisper of a 'thank you, cupid' was enough to tide you over. but this year, there was nothing. they took your heart and cracked it open, passing the spoils of your gifts around.

you were too fond of them to be vengeful, empathy bleeding into the resentment until you forced yourself to forgive and move to the next thankless blessing.

"i suppose i just feel like i didn't help enough people today." you toyed with your fingers with the nervousness of a child in trouble.

for the first time in centuries, fiddlers green scoffed at you. "i am absolutely certain that that is not the case, my dear. i can guarantee that when the waking world rests, i will see countless of romantics pass by, all because of you."

you smiled at his praise, and in the way the trees swayed, you could sense his pride in lifting your spirits. you took a deep breath and lay down, blades of grass tickling your face. "am i naive?"

"i'm not entirely sure what you mean."

your brows knitted together in stress. "have mortals always been selfish and i've been too blinded by their beauty to realise it?"

"ah," he began in realisation, "i take it thanks were few and far between this year?"

"i dont mean to sound spoiled or gluttonous, but i give them so much. all i wish for is some sort of acknowledgment before i'm pulled in all directions by those in need of a blessing."

"i do not think that mortals are inherently selfish, and i do not think that you are either. what i do believe that mortals are, is close-minded and excitable. you give them so much joy that they struggle to process it, hence your artists and poets who channel your inspiration into a vessel to carry your gifts." his voice was gentle, as if he were speaking to an injured fawn, and you relished in the comfort of his consoling. "you work yourself too hard, agápi. the guilt of failing to achieve the unachievable is far too much for anyone to carry, especially someone as reliant on emotions as you are."

"i feel like i'm invisible to them when they don't want something." your throat tightened and tears gathered by your waterline. "i fear that soon, i'll run out of love to give them."

fiddlers green swore that, in that moment, he could feel the tender scales of your heart tip ever-so-slightly towards the coldness that came with being callous. he knew you were a fragile being. not weak, never weak. he had seen the power your gifts granted every realm and the effects that withdrawals of your grace had on now-tarnished lands. but fragile in the sense that an antique vase of the finest china was fragile. it was beautiful and glorious, but if it was handled too harshly, it would fall to the ground and shatter into a million shards.

as the embodiment of love itself, you were blessed with an open mind, but cursed with a bleeding heart. you felt everything for everyone tenfold. if a mortal wept, you cried for them. if a faerie giggled, you laughed alongside them. you carried the burden of enough love to bring light to hell and were forced to spread it across worlds, lest it grow too much to handle and your porcelain face cracked.

before he could respond, he sensed a new presence enter, and heard a voice to match it soon after. "my love?"

you hastily wiped away a few stray tears before standing and spinning to face your lover. "my dream." you sighed happily, a smile of sheer elation growing at the mere sight of him. he stepped towards you and took your hand in his. with a kiss to his cheek, you felt the rock in your chest lighten.

you were beautiful. this, morpheus knew. in fact, everyone knew that. it was plain to see in the statues and sketches and sonnets and songs created in admiration of you and as odes to your honour that morpheus was far from alone in his infatuation with you. but instead of feeling jealous and attempting to steal you away from the twinkling eyes of the masses, he was more than willing to fall to his knees alongside them as your unwavering devotee.

your hand rested intertwined in his as the golden hour light bounced off your face and made morpheus' breath hitch, not even attempting to hide his blatant staring.

"how was your day?" morpheus had a putrid hate for small talk, but blessing day was full of stories, and he'd give anything to revel in your voice.

"awful."

oh.

he stopped in his tracks, hand still wrapped around yours, even tighter now. his jaw was set in concern and his face was taught. "who has upset you?" he stood closer to you, free hand cupping your face.

"the waking world, but i find now that it's hardly their fault." you tugged on his hand and continued walking, practically dragging morpheus in tow. "they are not to blame for their purpose. they are vessels of love and life, my duty is to fulfil and guide them. their lives are improved by me, my life depends on doing what they need."

with your words hanging tensely in the air, morpheus swore that he knew your feeling of a bleeding heart. for when yours ached, his stopped completely, and he would damn the waking world if it meant your smile would reach your eyes again.

"but what is it you wish to do, my love?" his hand held your gently, as if he were afraid you'd shatter with the confrontation of not conforming to someone else's wishes.

centuries of morpheus by your side flashed before your eyes. picnics in lavish renaissance fields, archery ranges by nomadic campsites, feasts in royal courts. but one distinct setting stood out in the forefront of your mind. your heads bowed, a kiss pressed to the back of your palm, a brilliant ball gown, and dancing.

"i wish to dance."

he smiled, a half-turned quirk of his lip that danced with amusement that almost screamed that he knew that's what you would say. "then dance you shall."

you felt the soft gust of sand sweeping around you both, and by the time it settled, a laugh of pure elation escaped you.

weighed down more than before by your gown. a milky-white bodice with delicate intricacies of golden lace, butterfly sleeves barren, bar the gold hem that lay flat against your skin when you moved your arm to marvel at it. a corset of similar design resting at a comfortable tightness and adding extra flair to the full circle skirt. morpheus watched with a silent smile as you admired your dress, finding himself more focused on your beaming grin than the garment itself.

but far grander than your dress was the ballroom you found yourself in. the smallest tap of your shoes resounded through the high arching ceiling and bounced off the art-filled walls. marble pillars supported its weight, and a large crystalline chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, each fraction of light reflecting off of its surface and leaving minuscule rainbows on the walls in their wake.

you turned to morpheus with awe and gratitude written on your face, your breath hitching when you found him already staring at you with more adoration than you'd seen in a thousand mortal valentine's days. he stepped closer to you, took your hand in his, bowed slightly, and with a cheeky glint in his eye asked, "may i have this dance?"

with a laugh, you too curtseyed, agreeing with a simple, "why, yes, kind sir, you may."

and all at once, you heard it. soft piano paired with violin as morpheus led you in a dance you'd walked through hundreds, if not thousands, of times before.

but this night, this dance, seemed different. they way morpheus looked at you, the way he held you, made your power grow and your chest swell. you could feel the love he had for you, and it was borderline overwhelming. a mere minute of his presence, of what he felt for you, was enough to tear the pieces of your being from the ungrateful hand's of mortals and piece it back together with the utmost care.

so caught up in thoughts of him, and only him, you hardly realised you were still dancing until morpheus spoke again. "you're glowing."

"pardon?" your brows furrowed and you huffed a laugh.

his smile widened. "you're glowing." he repeated, happier than the last time. you looked down to where your hands met, and your eyes widened when you saw that you were, indeed, glowing.

it had happened only once before, during your wedding, and a roseate hue surrounded you for the full day. you assumed that it came from the fulfilment of being completely, hopelessly, and utterly in love. you looked to morpheus' eyes again and smiled. it made sense that you were glowing now, of all times.

"you truly are a wonder, my queen."

[fierce-little-miana]

I really like your fic and I'm love how you do Chizuru and Kaoru relationship. I must admit I'm was very disappointed with how they handle Kaoru in the game, like no kidding he did horrible things and wanted to make his sister suffer but at the same he was a victim of abuse. I wanted a route for him - platonic of course - where he and Chizuru would make up or at least come to a understanding

Thank you so much for the kind words about my fic. It is always super nice to hear some feedback on it. If you like how it focuses on the Kaoru&Chizuru relationship you might have a nice surprise in the coming days (provided that you do not hate modern AU).

I perfectly understand your frustration with how Kaoru was treated in the game (though I am even more frustrated by how he was dispatched in the movie!).

I have only finished Okita's route (good ending only - I don't have enough time to play right now) in the Hakuoki: Stories of the Shinsengumi version, but I am super eager to receive my copy of the Switch version so I can play Sannan's route and the other one (Yamazaki? Sakamoto?) in which Kaoru plays an important role. I want more Kaoru content!

That being said, I did not find the content I got in Okita's route to be frustrating at all. I think Kaoru is a well-written and coherent character in it. He is not sane, he does horrible things, his goals are megalomaniac and very probably unachievable even if everything went as he wanted, but it all makes sense. He can't come back from what happened to him, he is stuck in a headlong rush. There is no escape. He is a well-executed tragic character.

I love tragedy so I love Kaoru. I love him even more because having him as a villain sort of anchors Okita's route as a route deeply centered on Chizuru and since she is sort of the main character you know… Well, narratively the oppositions "ChizuruVsKaoru" and "OkitaVsKaoru" are super interesting to me.

So I don’t mind that Kaoru is a tragic character who could not escape his cruel fate. Even if some days I believe that there was a short window in which he could have been brought back toward the light (I might write a fic about this idea one day). Other days I truly believe that Kaoru was too far gone the minute he decided to take control of the Nagumo clan to ever come back from the path he had decided to travel.

(This is basically me about Kaoru)

But I totally agree with you about something super important: Kaoru is without a doubt a victim of abuse (child abuse from when he was seven, and the game is not clear on when this stopped, sometime before the beginning of the game? sometime in 1864 taking advantage of the political turmoil in Tosa han?) that might very well have a sexual and scientific experimental dimension. That abuse ended in blood when Kaoru killed every authority figure in the Nagumo clan that wasn't him. Generally speaking every important character in the game is more or less given a redemptive action (even if that one action does not rehabilitate the entire character) that sort of acknowledges a "what could have been" scenario. Kaoru is not given that grace. The thing that comes the closest to this is his conversation in the forest by the Yukimura village with Chizuru after she has regained her memory. He is calm and apparently open during it but he is still hellbent on his "evil" plan and, for Chizuru, this conversation is more a corruption offer than a redemptive gesture from her brother. Plus we discover later that he is still lying to her about things at this point (notably about her being able to "keep" Okita).

Having the poster child for horrifying child abuse being among the very few irredeemable characters is… a choice? As I said, Kaoru’s character is well-written and coherent but the optics of that are not super good.

I too would very much enjoy a sibling (platonic) route that would explore their relationship and Chizuru oni’s heritage. Also, but this is because I am fucked up stories enjoyer, Kaoru’s route bad end could be a non-platonic ending. A bit on the same tone as Shiraishi’s Adonis Ending in Collar x Malice in which he is still with Hoshino but both characters are merely nightmarish shells (or everything they feared they could become) of what they were before.

[dahlia-shifts]

So it’s been a day since my first failed shifting attempt, I spent all day trying to shift to no avail. I know that the only reason I haven’t shifted is because I just back out last minute since I’m usually in no rush to shift.

And because sometimes I’m bored and content with how far I’ve gotten but last nights attempt wasn’t like that at all, I hyped myself up and unknowingly set myself up for failure.

I tried using a guided subliminal and it didn’t work for me at all, it was Reya’s guided subliminal and I couldn’t get past 20 minutes. For some reason though since I truly believed it would help me shift the fact that I ‘didn’t’ is just so tiring and disappointing, I know how to shift.

The reason I haven’t is solely because I’m procrastinating, but the only way I’m going to shift is if I do it myself. Onto another subject, I feel like a hater(I am for sure an hater) bc all of my drs either have a deep intense hatred for a certain show I don’t like or the show simply doesn’t exist in that reality. I have no reason for it either, I’ve moved past being angry at the show’s existence so there’s no reason for me to keep hating it but I still do. Anyway, just wanted to talk abt that.

Hii ! thanks for sending an ask! Lets talk about it all!

I understand you completely. I also feel like im backing out when trying to shift. sometimes, I think of shifting as something unachievable, and I feel scared that it might be something so different, but it's actually not. Idk if you mean you fell asleep after 20 mins of the sub, or you just turned it off, but i'll give you some tips for both !

If you feel tired of the sub, like it wouldnt work, try taking a break for a bit. find another position you're comfortable in, take a few minutes to yourself, then try again.

Try changing the sub. if you dont feel confident in it, try looking for another one, or the ones you simply have to fall asleep to while listening.

if you fall asleep before the sub is over, try going to bed earlier. put on the sub when you're not as tired, so you can pay attention to it for longer.

and a tip in general, you dont always have to be lying on your back. when i "minishifted" i was sleeping on my stomach. i find that helps me to get somewhat close to shifting.

and when nothing works, take a break. for yourself, and for your mind. try to re-program your way of thinking about shifting, esp if you found it during the early shifttok days.

about the hater thing, me too bae, me too. i feel like there are certain things here i dont like/cant get rid of, so i script it in my drs as well. i also try to make my scripts as close to my CR as possible, since it will be familiar to me and it would "help" me to shift to a reality where almost everything is the same.

thank you for the ask! im hoping i could help you in a way or two. Love you and take care! you will shift, the universe is on your side

[mareenavee]

Since reciprocity is a dish best served cold, a counter-ask to you, in the shape of a hypothetical. What would it look like, were you to write a sequel or a side-story with Athis as the focus, if the universe gave him not necessarily what he wants, but rather what he needs. Is there a happy future for him in some alternative timeline? Does that happy future always involve Nyenna, and therefore is unachievable by definition? More broadly, what would it involve for him to grow and come into his own as a character? What might his happily ever after (or happy-for-now) look like?

<3 Thank you for this one, my friend. I love this question so much. I have a few hypotheticals I've worked with because I love these what-if sorts of questions.

I think, in his sort of ideal world, it would have been best if he met Nyenna, but she hadn't been called to be the LDB. But there are facets to that, I think, and so I think I will ramble a bit and then get to a snippet of a fragment below.

I think he really does deep down love at least the idea of Nyenna and maybe could see a little bit of who she could be underneath everything, even before she knows herself. Yes, they were a bit of a whirlwind, but such is the nature of youth, right? But it's not like they lack redeeming qualities. It's just that destiny sort of pulls out different threads and causes different fear to settle in than a normal npc routine might.

If Nyenna did not have to carry the burden of this, then it's possible she could have been happy in her life with Athis, though not probable. I think she has a sort of deep restlessness, and I don't know exactly if she'd really be the settling type no matter what occurred. That said, maybe it's possible that for Athis, as much as he loves her, Nyenna probably would bring about a sort of sadness in any version of his story.

So yeah, as much as he'd love to still stay with her I think that timeline, no matter what it looks like, would be rather doomed and by definition unachievable.

In my sort of ideal world for Athis, I think he'd stop trying to seek validation outside of himself. It doesn't mean that he can't fall in love or seek out a relationship and a normal sort of life, but he's sort of accepted what he perceives his lot in life to be by the time Nyenna comes along. There's a bit of a stagnation -- or a stasis, if you will -- and it's only a temporary shift in this timeline when she arrives, a faux-change, which leads back to him staying put as she moves forward.

Ideally, he wouldn't just so easily accept that he isn't exceptional, too. And wouldn't have even before Nyenna. He has the potential and the skill, if he put his mind to anything at all, to accomplish more. So in a better timeline, he'd be less reliant, as I mentioned, on outside validation. He'd give himself goals instead of prioritizing normalcy. Not that working for the Companions isn't honorable or a noble cause, but we assume he's been same-level, same-title there for a while, not really exceptional even within the organization, and seems fine with that.

But what if he actually was heroic in the way he believes he should be compared to Nyenna?

A fragment, if you will, from ideas for the sequel of World:

Athis stared into his empty mug and pushed the dregs of his food around in his bowl with the edge of his spoon. Farkas was busy braiding grass, having wolfed down his dinner in four or five seconds flat, per usual. They were camped not far from Riften. Bugs darted over the river, and bats screeched overhead. Only the very edges of sunlight remained on the horizon as night faded toward them. It'd been a long trip. Every step from Whiterun was a burden, in all honesty, but each day was getting easier. He'd stayed in one place for far too long, anyway. Athis set down his dishes near the fire. He glanced down at his hands and cracked his knuckles, wondering briefly how long it would take the stark, pale band on his ring finger to return to normal. He wasn't fond of this particular reminder. He was tired, really. He'd never realized just how exhausting it had been to carry around all this worry. It wouldn't leave, of course, in the span of a week. Love didn't just disappear, no matter how much he wished it would. But this attempt at moving on, he supposed, was the next best thing. To leave it all behind and start again was a little daunting. He'd done it before, though. At least this time he wasn't running from anything. That was a bit of a relief, though he knew things could have been handled a bit more...proper. He still hadn't decided if he was the petty one in this situation or not. It didn't matter. Best to just close that book, really. "So," Farkas said, interrupting his thoughts, "are you going to mope around like this when we get to Fort Dawnguard, too?" Athis snorted to himself as Farkas held up a tiny basket he'd managed to make out of fidgeting with the grass. His friend grinned, then tossed the thing right over his shoulder and started another attempt. "Yes. I'm owed that, I think," he scoffed. "I don't think 'happy-go-lucky' and 'vampire hunter' belong in the same sentence, anyhow. It'll be fine." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll be fine." Farkas scrutinized Athis for a moment. Thoughts always seemed to dance right across the man's face, even before he spoke them. Athis knew he was trying to formulate the right thing to say; it was like he just wanted his friend to be okay, but knew it wasn't that simple. And Vilkas wasn't here to finish his sentences when he would inevitably trip over his words. Both of them had a lot to adjust to on this part of the journey. "Think of it like this," Farkas started. He paused and tapped the edge of his fist against his forehead. Athis snorted. Farkas grinned, but squeezed his eyes closed. "We'll be founding members of a new guild, kinda, right? And I know how much you hate vampires. It'll be fun to bring a bunch of 'em down. You won't have to think about, well, all of this. We'll be too busy." Optimistic, really. Athis did appreciate it, though. He looked over at his friend and managed a half-smile. "That's the idea, Farkas," he said. Farkas nodded and grinned widely and returned to his task. "I miss Nyenna, too, though," Farkas said after a moment. "A lot, actually." He pulled a long piece of grass taught and carefully braided together another ridiculously tiny row. "I'm sorry it all fell apart like this. It wasn't fair. But I'm with you, whatever you want to do." Athis looked at his friend who pointedly did not look back up from his work. This time it was the right thing to say. He felt marginally better. Maybe just halfway not as alone as before. He sighed again. "No turning back now, I suppose," he said with a shrug. "We'll be at the fort in no time at all."

So ideally, I hope, for Athis, from here that he can remember how strong he can be and had always been on his own. That he understands he is capable of whatever he puts his mind to. And none of it has to be in relation to who he was to someone else. (In this case, a hero and then a husband to Nyenna.) That his worth is not tied to titles or this other person. That he can make a difference with his own two hands. That he doesn't actually have to live in anyone's shadow. That he is and always was enough.

[gentlenotes-moved]

Hi! Can I just start by saying how much I adore you? I mean, yeah, I guess I don't really know you. But everything that you share here reflects bits of you and I love the whole reflection that I've come to know. I used to hate positivity blogs and such because their words always used to feel so unachievable. It all always used to feel too far away from the real process of healing. But your blogs, and the others I followed after that actually helped so much! And that's only because even though you can just create that image of invulnerability, you choose to share all the parts and you guys aren't afraid to show the other side of the coin too. That yes, these people, who encourage so much positivity, break down too. That no matter how far along you are in your healing journey, there will still be moments when you break down but what's important is that you get back up again. I guess that sounds a little messed up in a certain way but that's not what I mean, I just don't know how to word this better. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your honesty makes things feel realistic. Feels more human.

But despite all that, I get so sad when I see such amazing people feel down about themselves. If I could, I would hug you so tight until no insecurity could breach that stronghold (that's coming from someone who shies away from physical contact a lot). But I look at you (or your posts anyways) and I see somebody quite strong. Even though the present is heavy, you keep continuing and don't stop. Instead, you take the steps and encourage others to do the same! You really are someone awesome.

And I can't offer much advice, as you had asked in that one post that I can't find right now, but I hope these words are, idk, a net positive?

(I know this is already too long so I'm gonna wrap it up quick)

I hate the fact that childhood years, the ones we have the least control over, are the ones which have the most control over us later in our life. I just hate that thought so much. But we can only keep trying to take that power away from them and transfer it to our current self.

But please, don't worry, I know that the present sucks and it sometimes feels like it's gonna be this way forever, but remember, trying even a little changes the future. And you are trying so much, so you have a definite better future.

Anyways, sorry for this long thing, but I hope good things come your way soon! Sending lots and lots of love.

(Am I supposed to send this anonymously? I'm sorry, I'm very new to Tumblr and I don't know the norms 😭)

this is honestly one of the most sweetest messages i've ever gotten in my inbox; in all of my sideblogs. thank you for your kindness and encouragement, love!! :( <3

i try to make recovery and healing feel as realistic as possible. it's not just a clean, linear path; there's thorns and dirt and there's rocks to trip and fall on and dark holes to fall into. and the path may even lead you back to where you started. but it's worth trying. and i think that's what i try to express on this blog. and i totally understand positivity blogs that make recovery look like a flawless and faultless process, but it's almost never like that at all.

i've been feeling very alienated from my father lately because of something (just search up qanon; it's not good). he's just going down a deep spiral of rage and paranoia and loneliness. and from what i'm seeing, it looks like he could have a lot of diagnosed mental disorders that he seems to have inherited. and he also has a massive amount of unresolved childhood trauma. all of this combined has lead to my family being severely dysfunctional for as long as i can remember. i'm not gonna get much farther into it, but this is the gist of what my mind has been orbiting for the past several months.

but i do keep me and this blog going to encourage others to keep fighting their battles and to keep living their lives. there are so so many reasons to be happy, and i want to remind others of that. the path to healing might be ragged and a bit unpredictable, but it's a path worth walking down.

thank you for your kindness. seriously. and to think that someone thinks i'm a good person? it really does shock me, lol. but i thank you anyway. i hope life treats you kindly my love. seeing from your posts, you really seem like a gentle and kindhearted person as well. ♡

[dobranocka]

(sorry idk which ones you've been asked yet!) 12, 20, 33?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Huh, that's not really something I have considered. Let me think.

All my writing will magically edit itself into shape. No more types, hanging sentences, doubled words - just a clear, readable text. Sure, I can make changes like cut something that doesn't fit or add a scene that is needed, but no more haunting of stray typos. P l e a s e.

A perfect writing playlist for every writing project. The one just makes me focus, kicks my brain into creative mode, and fits the mood of the piece I am writing perfectly. And it has to be different for each and every one! My own soundtracks, with no repetitions.

No more post-publishing things hangovers. Everything will just publish itself and I will be able to not worry about the reception it is getting or suffering from the dopamine crash. Good feelings only from now on.

Okay, that's the wrap. Can't risk turning any WIP into lorem ipsum.

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

Obviously the eternal happiness, how is that even a choice? I am assuming my one true love here is my dog and he will live forever 😊

More seriously though - I actually had a conversation with Marron about this a few days ago, which partially has been prompted by the pain of publishing a WIP we worked on for, well, 8 months or so, and partially by the fact that my uni friend got stuck on finishing her PhD which is, in reality, fully written, but she doesn't think it's perfect yet.

Do you see what I am getting at here?

I don't think the perfect piece of writing exists. I don't think we, as writers, should strive for a perfect novel, or poem, or fanfic, or academic thesis (especially academic thesis) - just like we shouldn't strive for a perfect body, or perfect grade, or a perfect relationship. As someone who struggled with deliberating perfectionism for years - the kind that makes you quit relationships or turn away job opportunities, because they are not quite perfect - this is a topic I obviously feel strongly about.

What I instead try for is to challenge myself with my writing in a way that makes it fun for me and then try to enjoy the process, instead for aiming for something unachievable. The stories I have written so far are signs of who I am and was as a person and writer then. There will be countless other stories I will write in the future. Some of them will be better than the others, some I will like much more. None of them have to be perfect.

The real treasure will be all the typos I will make along the way 😅

(Sorry for getting quite so personal here, but I really think this mindset of striving for a unachievable perfection can be damaging for writers, at all stages of life.)

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

Do crafts count as art? If so, then yes, I suppose - I knit, I dabbled a bit in crocheting, I love cooking - I do like making things with my hands. I don't think it ties into my writing in a ways I would be able to identify, at least so far.

Thank you for asking those questions!

Ask me weird questions about writing

[fyreblood]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 　𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 　𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄 　𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒　 ;     .        ☾     — 　SOLO　( kang saet-byeol )

“　𝘵𝘰　𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮　𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴　𝘵𝘩𝘦　𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨　𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥　𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨　?

the princess of the northern water tribe walks silently, her shadow seeping into the hollows of the red city as she walks through its streets with purposeful strides. there are guards flanked at her side despite her lack of need for their protection—her self-assurance in the political immunity she has, never once falters. she smiles, to whomever she passes though as the sun had begun to set, she realises she does not see as many people wandering the streets as she had years before. the air of the fire nation has changed startlingly from what she remembered since her last visit. 

when signs of trouble had settled upon the horizon in the fire nation, the water tribe’s ambassador had been one of the first to leave, citing the need to return to her home nation in its own time of need. her own goals in the fire nation having been unachieved, she returns to her home with a sense of defeat that she masked impeccably well with a relief to be once again amongst her beloved people. the bloodbender rumours to reside in the firenation perhaps had only been an urban legend, or rather she had not stayed long enough to finish her hunt. in the year since, however, she had worked on the skill herself and day by day she swears she has improved drastically, though she is far from the extent of power she had desired.

since her departure from the kingdom of the fire-benders however, letters from friends, confidantes and fellow diplomats had almost become endless, detailing to her the fire nation’s crisis, however she cared little for it and had little time to care even if she wanted to. her father, having fallen ill in the year since, and he remains on his deathbed ever so adamant on keeping her brother on the water tribe’s throne much to the princess’ displeasure. but patience is a virtue she knows all too well. 

kang saet-byeol smells rebellion teasing at the frays of her home nation and in some ways it strikes a fear in her heart. whilst a revolt with her name and face as the dawn of something greater, would be a decisive key to her victory, what she needs is to turn the focus away from herself and rather towards the idea that her brother is unfit, not that she wishes to force him off the throne. no one wants a ruler who comes into power with death and despair on her hands. rather saet’s strategy had always been to depose of her brother quietly and maintain even the slightest of peace and so as tensions rose the longer she remained in the northern water tribe, she had begun to see the work that needed to be done in the fire nation as an ambassador too heavy a burden to leave alone for as long as she had already left it. the news of the fire lord’s wedding offers her the perfect distraction and the perfect time to divert her attention towards another noble pursuit. 

in her home, she allows rumours to rest as she packs her bags once again for the fire nation despite the precarious situation of its politics. but back in the water tribe, her brother has as much of a knife to her neck as she has to his and she would rather burn in this city now than have her blood at the mercy of his hands. 

having only recently arrived, despite the chaos, saet-byeol had never felt so at ease in a long long time. anticipation of the wedding itself grips her focus, or so she makes it appear as she had just her her day flitting through the court making idle small-talk, and flashing her same alluring smile as much as she had been in and out of diplomatic meetings and then her afternoon off in the marketplace. of course, her image must be always be sustained, as she knows all to well and having spent the time defamiliarising herself with the nuances of the nation and its people, and become accustomed to the changes since, saet-byeol feels some intangible weight lift from her shoulders.

as war rages on in the south and revolution bubbles in her home in the north, oddly enough, the princess finds herself breathing in the air with something akin to relief, like the pieces of the puzzle are finally slotting into place.

saet-byeol turns her head to the guard on her left, one whom she had already recognised as having been with her on her first expedition to the fire nation as its ambassador two years ago. she offers him a smile, glittering in the light of the moon as it creeped upon the sky, as genuine as it may seem it masks her greater ambitions. “isn’t it so wonderful to be back?”

[gemofanenby]

(She/They) It’s trans day of visibility, as you probably know, so I figured I should make a nice lil positivity post amidst all the worry.

        Especially if you’re an egg, or someone deep in the closet, or otherwise want to transition but haven’t yet, I am grabbing you gently by the shoulders, looking you in the face, and telling you that it is going to be OK. It will get better. I know that when you’re pre-transition and in the depths of dysphoria, it feels impossible. Sometimes your goals are far too high, and even though you know that, it feels like what you really want is unachievable. You’ll never be some perfect smooth anime girl, you’ll never be some 6′5″ super-athlete with a perfect beard.

        But that is okay. You don’t have to be. All that stuff isn’t necessary to be pretty, or handsome, or euphoric, or anything. You'll never be Cis, but that’s okay! Because you aren’t supposed to be! You’re supposed to be yourself, if you can. And you will be!!

        Even when it seems insurmountable, even when our countries, our states, our homes, are turning against us, you will be okay. We won’t give up. And let me tell you, even though it’s tough right now, and if you’re dysphoric, it won’t go away immediately upon starting to transition. But you will find euphoria! You will find love!

        For a long time, I genuinely couldn’t imagine the happiness I feel now. And yet, here I am! After the better part of a decade “wishing I was a pretty girl” and “wishing I was a lesbian,” here I fucking am! When I look at my face in the mirror, I see myself. I see who was always there, and gods I love her. When I look down at my body, I finally like what I see. I love my body, what a miracle that is! I enjoy food again, when once it felt more like a chore to keep the body i was trapped in alive

        It isn’t perfect of course; I do still struggle with dysphoria some days, and so does my girlfriend who’s been transitioning a year longer than I have. The outside world is still terrifying, and family can still be shitty, but at the very least, I face the struggles as myself. No matter how bad it gets, I can know deep down that I love myself, and there are people who love me. It damn sure wasn’t easy, but fuck, it was worth it. And it will be worth it for you too. Let the idea of transition not be an unachievable goal and stressor, but a miracle that you will know too.

[cardboardfox]

Count (writing) projects done, not words

Last December I've made a foolish goal of writing 500k words this year (even though all the evidence of me setting up writing goals that are beyond my reach was right in front of me). Now, a week into the new year (in which I didn't even think about writing), I realize that this word count is... Unachievable for me.

Besides, even if I would aim for that number of words and would come close to reaching it, I don't even know how many of those words would be actually usable.

I've been writing for a few years now (I'm nowhere near experienced enough in this skill though) and I also attempted both NaNo and Camp NaNo but failed miserably every time and I realized that every time I would want to reach a certain word count in a writing session, I wouldn't move the story forward as I should've, but instead writing filler words until I'd reach that number.

And this sucks.

My recent project, "On my way to You", was my NaNo project. It was meant to start from the middle of the action, but I needed some backstory so I ended up writing that. By the end of the month I had around 21k words of backstory. And that was it. For the first two weeks of the month I managed reaching my writing goal and then I just stopped because I wasn't really going anywhere with the story.

The only times when this doesn't happen is when inspiration strikes me and I end up writing really lengthy bits of stories I might never use just for the sake of the story I'm writing and not for the number of words I want to write. And, even if I won't end up using them or If I change a lot later on, at least they are centered around the character and the feelings of the scene, not on the worldbuilding I was supposed to do before writing and that would get me confused later on because I go into details not only might I never use, but as well as forget because I never give enough info on them.

We always see articles about how many words does a certain author write a day and... Writing let's say 10k a day, every day, isn't only unreliable to the story. Is tiring. It sucks the soul out of you. Especially if you write those words just for the sake of the word count and not for the project. As a personal example, the only days I would hit 3k words would be when I'm fully focused on the scene I'm writing and want to see the characters suffer, fight, live or be in danger.

I don't know about any of you but for me it's when I get to live through the characters' eyes that I get most words, not when I see how far behind I'm on my writing goal. The writing goal in general just sucks out my will to live.

That's why I'm writing this: as a promise that this year I forget my goal from December and, instead of aiming for words done, I'll aim for projects. Like, "Getting the 1st draft of 'OmwtY' done" or "Do the worldbuilding necessary for that fanfiction series you've been planning for years", or "revive this old self-insert fanfiction just for the fun of it". It's more daunting to finish a whole project than to reach a certain word count, but there's more place for fun than on a screen with a lame number on it.

Thanks for reading my rant. Now I really have to get that physics homework done...

[progressivemother]

The New Year of 2023

Let's face it. The last couple of years have not been easy for most people. The covid pandemic threw many people off and caused a lot of stress. The year of 2022 was the year that most people started getting their lives back to mostly normal but still had a lot of stress. This was the year of inflation and political strife.

Let's hope for a better year in 2023. Things are getting better for my family and I am getting back into my routine and getting a sense of normalcy. I noticed in the middle of December that prices have started going back down where I live. We do have that one gas station that is being stubborn with its prices.

Everyone ends up with goals at the beginning of a new year. It's always something fantastical and almost unachievable. Just keep it simple. For my husband he started with getting a new years kiss from me even though he had to wake me up to get it (I had work the next day). Once you achieve one goal, then add another.

For me, it was to start getting up at 3am again. I got sick twice in December and had to sleep in until 4am. So far so good. Day three and I am on schedule. From there, I have slowly added things that I want to accomplish this year.

So far it's wake up at 3am every morning, get back into my normal routine, and start eating healthy again now that the holidays are over. Let's all admit it. No one eats perfectly healthy at any time but we are worse during the holidays.

Don't stress yourself on trying to meet too many goals at once. It causes stress and as mothers, we do not need more stress. If you are determined to set goals for yourself, start small. Breaking up larger goals into small, attainable, measurable steps is scientifically proven to be more effective than setting one large goal.

As you consider your resolutions for the New Year, just remember this: No one is watching you. We are all entirely too absorbed in our own lives to worry about what you are or aren’t achieving in your life. Just achieve your goals for yourself but keep it simple to start and enjoy your year.

[awonderlandsystem]

Eva's Thoughts

It started with a book recommendation. A waiting period and a notification that it was available. I quite honestly didn't expect much from it, unrelatable information at the most. In the middle of my post-workout shower, I found myself in tears, cowering like a small child. Was I always this blind to his treatment? I can recall brushing it over and making excuses for it. However, I can also recall a time when I stood tall and proudly out there in the world. Not hiding at the gym at night for fear of meeting another person. I can see the pattern of falling and unraveling but why couldn't I see it then? I believe what hurts the most is why didn't my family try harder to stop me.

According to R my parents practically traded us off to him, happy to be rid of me. Our mother says that isn't true. I'm not quick to believe her though. Everything happened rather quickly and painfully during that period. We lost the only home we'd ever felt safe in, and our parents made plans somewhere with no space for anyone else. We truly had no option but to go with R. I believe that added immensely to my feelings of abandonment. I'd already gone out into the world once on my own and landed flat on my face. I wasn't ready to go off again. I know some will say no one is truly ever ready and I honestly loathe blanket statements like that. Piss off with that. I'm allowed my own struggles and grievances without being compared to the rest of society.

I only wish I hadn't been dormant for so long after that. Perhaps then there could've been more I could've done. I know it's far too late to concern myself with what could've been done, however, it doesn't stop me from kicking myself. I'm a child exposed to violence that has grown to have children exposed to the same. I'd imagine much worse because for all our mother's faults she tried quite hard to provide for us. Which is more than I can say for myself. My mother told me consistently growing up that I would be nothing but a failure, I wanted, still want, so badly to prove her wrong.

Where do I even start? I know how to be a housewife. That's all my mother prepared me for. Ikelos is an artist with no self-confidence in anything she does. Zoe is a writer unable to finish anything she starts. We've been trying to pool our heads together to find some semblance of life skills between us to do something with monetary gain. Ikelos has stated she doesn't have the ability to do retail anymore. Quite honestly I can't blame her these days and the wages involved there. Not to mention the abuse those workers tend to take. I don't believe I have the confidence built back for management again. Although I was offered my job back on the other side of the state. If I had the ability to be heartless once again I would've considered it. Taking advantage of low-income people isn't something I could stomach. I don't want to focus too hard on the negative or things I don't believe we're capable of. I looked at typing jobs, and that's a strong consideration if any of us had strong typing skills. I believe Zoe was the only one who excelled there. It's only very frustrating to see where I'd like us to be but left unable to find the steps to get there.

There's quite a list of things yet to accomplish, mostly dealing with the children. Things I'm told I must handle entirely alone as the stay-at-home mom. It doesn't matter that I've stressed the issues of our mental health to him. I'm expected to be perfect. My mother expected it of me, and now R does. Perfection is unachievable, and I'm trying hard to remember that. I suppose I should return to this book with dryer eyes and finish drying my hair.

[raewritez]

all that mattered

based on this request: Hello! I love your writing! Can i request a zuko x firebender reader where the reader was a close friend of zuko’s and went with him when he had to go hunt the avatar and she goes w the gaang in the catacombs and is hurt by zuko’s decision but they reconcile slowly @ the western air temple? Thanks!!

word count: 2.8k

You were happy, a cautious glint of hope pulling at your heartstrings as you smiled at Zuko from across the teashop. After all you had been through together; from playing pirates with the young boy who wore his heart on his sleeve to sneaking onto the navy ship to follow your best friend on his seemingly unachievable quest for the Avatar, you had finally grasped the scraps of unabashed content in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se. 

You were so proud of Zuko. He had come so far from the erratic, rage-filled boy you had stuck with the past three years, now growing into the person you always knew he was. The glimmers of your youth seemed so far now, yet closer than they had been in years. The Zuko you knew then; the soft, earnest child who loved his friend unashamedly in the merriments of your pretendings was slowly peeking out of the harsh exterior he had built up in his desolation. 

He found himself aching, yearning for your presence and the unwavering comfort you had always provided him. He could barely remember a world without you, without the familiarity of your laughter and the warmth of your caring touches. He knew he loved you, he supposed he always had. He knew it in the way his heart would speed up at the sight of your grin, how a lovely blush would make its way to his face at the soothing lilt of your voice. He knew he loved you, the same way he had when his hands were small and his face unscarred, when the only problems were the insufficient days that weren’t long enough to hold all your adventures. 

Now, you were smiling at him from across the room of Iroh’s tea shop. Like always, he felt his face heat up and the corners of his lips threatening to lift at the mere sight of your joyful expression. He smiled back, forgetting for a moment the weight upon his shoulders. Again, the Avatar had been preoccupying his mind, the temptation and longing to be back home and to feel the affection of his father overpowering his logic. But now, with his amber eyes locked with yours and his uncle’s jolly laughter ringing over the dulled chatter of the customers, he thought maybe a life like this wouldn’t be too bad.

///

“Zuko!” you cried, launching yourself into his arms.

Iroh trailed behind you, the Avatar in tow. The catacombs shone with an emerald glow, a slight chill in the humid air. You turned your head to see Aang hugging Katara, while you step aside to allow Iroh to embrace his nephew.

“Uncle, Y/n, I don't understand,” Zuko speaks, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing with the Avatar?”

“Saving you, that's what,” Aang replies. Zuko growls and steps forward confrontationally, your arms reaching out to restrain him.

“Zuko, it's time we talked,” Iroh says calmly. 

He tells Aang and Katara to leave, Zuko’s eyes trailing after them. 

“Why, Uncle?” Zuko questions in a hurt tone.

Iroh simply smiles. “You're not the man you used to be, Zuko. You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been. And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good.”

You yelp as you feel your body being encased in a prison of crystal alongside Iroh, your eyes snapping up to meet Azula’s golden ones with a glare that could send a man ten feet under. Zuko frantically reaches out to you, only to be halted by Azula’s drawling voice.

“I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle. But Zuko, Prince Zuko, you're a lot of things, but you're not a traitor, are you?” “Release them immediately,” Zuko growls.

“It's not too late for you, Zuko. You can still redeem yourself.” “Zuko, no!” You shout, desperation in your eyes. “You can’t listen to her! She’s lying, like she always does!” Azula chuckles sinisterly. “Am I, Y/n? Or are you just trying to hold him back? He knows his destiny, it seems to me like you’re only preventing him from achieving it.”

“Zuko, that’s not true!” you call out to him, your voice cracking. “I know you, I know that what you want isn’t-”

“Why don't you let him decide, Y/n?” her voice cuts through like a knife. “Zuko, I need you. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have father’s love. You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.” Iroh’s pleads are drowned out by the noise inside your head, the panic setting in and clouding your senses. Please, Zuko. Don’t do this.

Tears roll down your cheeks as Zuko turns his back, following his sister out of the cavern. A choked cry leaves your mouth, desperation for the lost feeling of happiness leaving you feeling empty. 

Iroh tenderly calls out your name, the deep sadness in his expression interrupted only by a glint of determination.

/// You gaze up in horror as the figure of the Avatar falls to the ground, Azula’s outstretched fingers crackling with electricity.

Katara rushes forward, her water crashing over the Dai Li agents and Firenation siblings and pulling them under the waves. She embraces Aang in her arms, a look of hopelessness and despair shining in her tear-filled eyes.

You stare in disbelief at the face of the prince, your heart splintering. Iroh suddenly jumps in front of your frame defensively, his voice booming in the hollowness of the catacomb. 

“You've got to get out of here! I'll hold them off as long as I can!” Fire thrusts forth from his fists, momentarily halting the soldiers. Katara makes her way over to you, her hand outstretched. You look at her with confusion, having been prepared to suffer your fate at the hands of your nation.

“Come on!” She exclaims, grasping your hand and lifting the three of you out of the wretched caves. The last thing you see are his eyes, piercing your soul with the bitterness of betrayal and abandonment. 

///

“Hello, Zuko here.”

You can only stare, shocked into a state of paralyzation by the utter surprise of seeing his figure on the mountainside. He looks different, his hair is longer and his face bears a hesitant smile. 

As the shock fades, it is replaced with a burning anger, the one that has been brewing and festering in the depths of your soul ever since he walked out of that cave with his sister. Your eyes narrow into slits, a hardened glare contorting your features. His eyes flicker to yours as your friends unload their bearings onto him, only to shrink away at the fire in your expression. 

He longs to rush forward, to fall at your feet and beg for forgiveness. The guilt that has been plaguing his mind for weeks bubbling to the surface; the sight of you almost bringing him to the ground. He yearns to be in your arms again, to bask in your wondrous existence and fearless love.

But he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He had hurt you, abandoned you. You, who had stood steadfast beside him through all his troubles and misfortunes, you, who had shown such faith in him that he began to wonder how he deserved it. And for what? For honor? For the approval of his father? He didn’t know, but he knew that walking away from you and his uncle in those catacombs was the single biggest regret of his life. 

He’s sent away, and you don’t argue. Not that he would expect you to. That night, as he curls in on himself by the blaze of the campfire, silent tears stream down his face as he aches for you, as he loves you from afar in the high hours of the night. He at least finds comfort in the fact that you sleep under the same sky.

///

a week later...

It was almost unbearable, having him so near. You saw him everyday as he trained with Aang and conversed with the rest, his gaze always finding yours the second you walked into his vicinity. You kept your distance, the wound of his desertion still raw and painful, building new walls around your heart which had always remained unsheltered. Your body betrayed your logic, your fingers itching to run through his hair, your breath escaping your lungs whenever you heard the rasp of his voice.

You knew he had changed, really changed this time, that much was obvious. The way he and Aang talked like old friends, how he was slowly worming his way into the group’s good graces and affections.

He hadn’t pushed you, hadn’t demanded you speak to him or expressed anger at your coldness. Instead, he waited, reluctantly settling for small acts of atonement and care. He would always ensure you received the first bowl of rice at dinnertime, secretly complete your chores for you. He treated you like an idol, an alter, his actions small compensation for all his wrongdoings and mistakes.

That didn’t mean it was easy for him, though. Zuko starved for your closeness, the feeling of having you so close yet so far eating away at his heart. He feared that he would never again experience the love you so unsparingly served to him, never again bathe in the solace of your friendship.

He found you sitting beneath the moon, Yue’s light cascading through your hair and illuminating your features with an ethereal glow. His breath was ripped away at your unapologetic beauty, a familiar longing consuming his senses.

“Y/n,” he whispered. 

You whipped around, your eyes locking with his. Under his intense stare you were paralyzed, unable to run away like you wanted.

You sighed. “What do you want, Zuko?”

There was a bitterness to your words, but all Zuko could focus on was the way his name sounded from your lips. He hadn’t heard the sound in so long, the melody squeezing his heart with adoration. He knew it was undeserved, though.

When he didn’t respond you scoffed and rolled your eyes, standing up to walk back to the temple only to be gently yanked back by a hold on your wrist.

“No, wait, I...” his eyes were wide, a distressed look upon his face. He glanced down at your interlocked hands, reluctantly letting go so as not to overstep. “I...”

You stared at him, brows furrowed. What? What could you possibly have to say to me?

“I...I’m sorry.”

He sighed, brushing his hair out of his face. “I know that doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t make anything better, but....I just need you to know how sorry I am.”

When you didn’t interrupt, he pressed on.

“Not a single day went by where I didn’t think of you. When I was in the Fire Nation, I had everything I’d ever wanted. I thought everything would fall into place...but it didn’t. Every night when I went to sleep I would see your face, how  you looked at me back in Ba Sing Se. Like I was a monster.”

Your features softened at that, that part inside you that you had locked away yearning to reach out to him, to comfort him like you always had. 

“What I did was so wrong,” he continued. “And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it. But I can’t live with knowing that you hate me, that we can never be friends again because I was so stupid. And, I mean, you’re not just my friend, you’re way more than that! We’ve been through everything together, and back in Ba Sing Se everything was perfect and I ruined it, and now you hate me and now I probably can’t ever-”

He was rambling now, his eyes ablaze with the struggle to salvage the scraps of your relationship. You couldn’t stand watching him in such distress, all of the emotions you had built a wall around slowly cracking through.

“I don’t hate you, Zuko.”

The words were out before you could stop them.

His rant ceased abruptly, his eyes latching onto yours, a question lingering behind his golden irises.

“I never really hated you,” you spoke, shuffling uncomfortably in your place. “I just...”

His wild eyes calmed, replaced with an imploring gaze, urging you to continue. 

“I thought I did. Every time I thought of you I felt so angry, and I thought I hated you but I don’t. I never could.” His lips parted, staring at you with such wonderment you were reminded of the way people beheld paintings. Or how Iroh looked at tea.

“Why?” he questioned. “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know.” 

You knew.

///

Days passed, and the crumbs of your bond with Zuko were slowly falling back into place. You still bore a scar from the memories, but seeing him acting as the person you had always wanted him to be filled your heart with more pride than you’d like to admit. 

He moved around freely, interacting with the misfits that had become your family and smiled carelessly in the gleams of his content. Seeing the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips tugged up at the corners made your heartbeat irregular. His hair wasn’t bad either, and his insistence to remain shirtless while training Aang certainly wasn’t helping your attempts to remain impassive.

You found him sitting at the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the vast expanse of sky. His ebony locks danced around his face, a pensive expression resting on his brows.

He snapped around at the sound of your footsteps, an unguarded grin making its way to his face upon seeing you.

“Hi,” you greeted, your feet carrying you to sit beside him.

“Hey,” he breathed, eyeing your profile as your arm brushed against his, the sensation sending shivers up his spine.

You tilted your head towards the stars, the coolness of the night caressing your cheeks. You remained silent for a few minutes before speaking.

“I missed you, you know.”

Zuko turned to you, finding your eyes closed against the navy curtain of the sky.

“Even when I was mad. I guess spending ten years of your life with someone makes you a little attached, huh?”

His eyes traced your profile, dipping down the curve of your nose and lips and rising back to the delicateness of your eyelashes. Attached, he chuckled. He was long past attached.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Your head swirled to face him, your eyes reflecting the adoration and love they always had, the same look Zuko had passed to you so often in the shadows of your obliviousness. Your fingers rose to tenderly trace the outline of his scar, your familiar touch elicting all of the emotions Zuko had been deprived of in your time apart.

He nuzzled further into your embrace, feeling much like the boy he had been all those years ago. Just you and him, when nothing else mattered. When he was a child, and you were a child, and he loved his friend in the pureness of childhood.

And he loved you now.

Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, after years of longing built up on a lifetime of friendship, he pushed himself forward until his lips met yours.

Your breath escaped you in a gasp, your palm finding its way to its proper place against his cheek. Your lips pressed against his with fervor, all of the emotions that you had ever felt for this boy disclosed in the desperation in which your hands grasped his shirt in a hopeless attempt to bring yourself even closer.

His arms wound around your waist, his thumbs stroking your sides as he kissed you with all the love and affection he possessed. His raven hair tickled your face as your lips locked over and over again, until the only thing you two were more desperate for than each other was air. 

You breathed heavily, slowly regaining your senses. Your eyes met his with the same hesitant look that was held in his. For a moment you simply stared at each other, gazing, before grins broke out across both your faces. 

Your laugh cut through the night, his own chuckles escaping him. He gazed at you fondly, leaning in to capture your mouth in a short and sweet kiss. You smiled unabashedly, pressing your forehead against his. This was long overdue. You basked in each other’s presence, soft caresses and brief pecks shared under the light of the moon. As you loved one another beneath the stars the world faded away and nothing else mattered.

It was just you and him.

[mhathotfic]

This is a really short piece that’s entirely for me and no one else, but if you relate and want more like it please feel free to tell me

Warnings: aromantic relationship based on my experiences, swearing, mentions of loneliness

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x lithromantic! Reader

Lithromantic: a romantic orientation on the aromantic spectrum, describing a romantic attraction without the desire for reciprocation.

Experiences may include: feeling romantic attraction that fades upon being reciprocated, feeling romantic attraction but preferring not to act on it, experiencing discomfort upon entering a romantic relationship with a crush, loss of interest in potential or actual partners when they romantically initiate, fantasizing about romance but preferring it only in theory, not in practic.

(Yn) related a little too much to that for them to be anything other than that, and in a way that was comforting.

At least they know why their past relationship never felt right. Why the word partner felt almost wrong in that context and why those partnerships never seemed enough. Never seemed right with a lingering feeling of uncomfortable uncertainty and a partner who felt so far away even when they were right there. Always asking for more from them but never explaining what more was or why they needed it.

So that relationship would eventually end and (Yn) would find themselves wondering why they tried in the first place. Romance felt like some unachievable fairytale that never really understood, but they didn’t want to be alone.

They wanted someone to be with though, and it seemed like everyone else wanted the same thing. Just not the way they desired, so they convinced themself into trying it in hopes that they were just a late boomer. That one day they’d have their fairytale story and be in love the way everyone else talked about it.

Going on dates set up for them by well meaning friends that just didn’t really get it.

The only who seemed like he did, never liked the thought of it though. Always huffing and puffing about them not needing someone to fix them.

“You’re not broken for fuck sake” Bakugou would grumble “you don’t need some loser who wants you to meet them at their level! You know that don’t ya?”. And in truth they did, but they felt so alone and maybe they’d finally meet someone who didn’t mind.

It never occurred to them that loud and brash blond who was always there when they got back might be holding his tongue on the matter. That he wanted to be the person who stood with them and held their hand through the hard times. To be the one who kisses their forehead and tell them they’re doing a great job. He wanted to be with them however that looked.

Romantic or not, he wanted to be theirs however they defined it. But how do you tell a person who seemed genuinely uninterested and uncomfortable with love that you love them?

He wasn’t sure at first, but one too many failed dates of theirs and a rant about the type of relationship that they wanted and it clicked.

Laying in his bed together with their head on his chest and him playing with their hair and quietly listening it finally clicked in place that he’s always been there exactly how they hoped a partner would be. Never asking for more or calling distant or cold.

And for him, it the reality of love not equaling romance clicked and he finally felt like he could just say it.

Like they could be together in a way they both wanted. So why not?

[papakhan]

Since you know a lot about the Khans and are not afraid to be critical of the games more... problematic elements (I have not looked through your blog yet in detail but I bet there are some things about the way a group like them is portrayed) what do you think of the possible Khan-Follower alliance ending? Are there problems, do you think it likely or something else? What I have seen from your blog shows interesting insight and I'd love to hear your opinion on this. (Apologies if something like this was asked before)

I've mulled over this ask for a little while and personally I really like the Khan-Follower alliance ending! It's my favourite end for the Khans and basically the only Good end for the Followers because I don't count them getting reabsorbed in the NCR as a "good end"

I think part of it is that it suggests major changes for both factions. Like, the staunch pacifists teaming up with the rowdy former-raiders? Very fun concept AND they have history together already

Like would the Khans and Followers be fully integrated with one another? Leather jackets over labcoats type deals? Are all these weedy nerds expected to pass the initiation? Or would Khan war parties be supplemented by map makers and botanists? It's interesting to me as well that the Khans were inspired by the Follower's old world knowledge of "governance, economics and transportation" and not anything to do with war, did the Followers withhold that knowledge from the Khans knowing what happened to the Legion or did the Khans turn it down themselves? All very interesting questions to consider.

Personally I think that the Khan-Follower alliance leads to more of a spectrum of people, with hardcore warriors on one end and top surgeons on the other, but around the middle are people like Jack and Ezekiel where the lines are more blurred. Followers going through the beatdown and taking up weapons, Khans giving up theirs to become scholars. Things are a little tense on the far ends and it feels like it could pull either way depending on the leadership of the empire as a whole. Stuff like that.

Though I will say one issue I have concerning the past Khan-Follower alliance is the Followers treated the Khans like shit. Now I've gotten shit for saying this before but I don't really care, my criticism is more to do with how the writers treat all the drug addicts in the game, which is just reflected in how the Followers treat drug addicts. I'll continue under a cut tho since i've already talked alot

Basically um resorting to dealing in drugs is a very common result of a group of people being landed in poverty and the Followers were absolutely in the wrong for dropping the Khans when the Khans resorted to it. Additionally it's highly likely that the Khans were locked out of selling medication in the NCR (under the guise of "you need X unachievable for anyone outside the republic permit to sell Y") and the Followers only take "donated" medication implying that they wouldn't be able to buy medication from the Khans. The Khans were in a place with no food no water and no tradable goods, what else were they supposed to do? Dropping a desperate group on the brink of collapse because "we tried to teach them to make medicine but they only wanted to make drugs" is not a thing a real lefty medical group say or do, it's something a group like the Salvation Army would do.

Obviously the Khans relying on and making money off of other people getting addicted to chems is an issue, but there's an obvious root cause to it like. The Follower's initial response should have been "help the Khans find a stable way of generating income by introducing a pharmaceutical branch on their behalf / help them become self-sustaining in other ways so they stop causing harm to wastelanders by proxy" and not "abandon them knowing they have no food or water and hope they die off soon so they stop selling chems to wastelanders" which was always the impression I got off Julie Farkas when you asked her about the Khans and she was like "Great Khans? Oh, you mean those raiders? 🙄" like girl. those are people and you. you especially. should care about them

Another thing I'd like to see the Followers drop is the whole. missionary thing. idk i wouldn't say i'm really qualified to talk about it but something just doesn't sit right with me, maybe it reminds me a little too much of christian missionaries. I know the Followers are just offering things like reading and writing and medicine but like idk. idk. just as long as they're not trying to ""civilize"" people

which brings me to my last point which is. I know it's called an Empire in the ending and Papa says that they're gonna Conquer but. can you guys not fucking colonise Wyoming please? I'm not gonna pretend that I know shit about building nations and i've talked enough as it is but. [me smacking papa away from being cringe] BE NORMAL ABOUT IT PLEASE. I'm sure the Followers wouldn't help them if they weren't but.

so yeah as long as they drop that type of behaviour I can see it working quite well! and anyway it's like I said, it's more to do with the personal biases of the writers rather than like anything i think the followers would Realistically do if they were actually a group. that being said In my personal Wyoming lore I do have it as a running joke that Julie Farkas just kinda hates Papa Khan and Papa is just. completely oblivious.

The Khans are going in the right direction tho, so long as whoever takes over after Papa Khan continues to go in that direction. Which is like. the entire plot of my Fallout: Wyoming idea lmao