#i am going to weep because my love will save them from nothing.

[rainswings]

It breaks me, sometimes, when I hear about the dreams of my coworkers. One of the men who runs checkout stands went to art school and dropped out because he realized he couldn't make it, couldn't let art become a job, but fell for a girl there so hard, so deeply, she's now halfway across the world doing grad school and going to be an art conservationist, and before having this conversation and hearing this information I'd never seen so much happiness in his face, than when he spoke about how wonderful a job that is. I asked him what he drew, and he produced a little pocketbook full of the most intricate penwork, the berserk sword drawn in such detail I could feel the scrape and rough of the metal, chipped out with little black holes I thought I might fall into.

He's accepted this is his forever job, being a checkout clerk. He's willing to love a girl he won't see for years. I would break bones for him.

[n0tamused]

Hello! If requests are open, I would love yo request something

Would you be willing to write about Ratio comforting his s/o who's mental health is not the greatest (by which I mean awful)

Head canons, a little drabble, whatever you're most comfortable with

- 🦐

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, angst, turns to fluff, overworked and stressed reader, depression. Hope you enjoy this shrimp anon!<3

Words: 2275

Rises of the moon

‘I will not come in today, I’m sorry. I am still not well enough for work, but hopefully tomorrow I will be.’ 

You stared at the message yet to be sent, the phone feeling like a brick instead with the weight of it pulling you down into the ground and into the abyss. Talking was exhausting, yet sending the message seemed like an even more arduous task to complete. Your reputation waited, and you’d throw it away simply because you couldn’t type out a sentence good enough to send, a sentence that could save you some questioning and some dignity? 

Like a trap door your mind opened beneath you, your worst critic and the source of the distress. You felt like you were falling endlessly and hitting rock bottom all at once, making days and hours converge together until nothing but dust blinded you alongside your tears. 

‘I will not come in today. I am still not well enough for work, hopefully tomorrow I will be.’

The letters stared back at you.

‘Good morning, I will not be coming in this morning either, my health is not yet improved for the work environment. With kind regards- (Y/n)(L/n)’

Send, just send it, send. 

Before you can look at the message once more your hand grips the phone hard enough to press into the button at the side, making the screen go dark and after that you don't try to turn it on. Instead, you curled up on your side, your bed feeling like spare traces of comfort you could still grasp on with your phone getting lost amidst the blankets and pillows you hoarded up around you. Sleep had evaded you this night as well, overtaken by more important tasks of weeping over imperfect papers and reports. It’s been three days, today is the fourth. How much longer will they take that sorry excuse before they bring your integrity into question? You didn’t want to know.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow will be better (I’ll pretend).

After what felt like hours of laying in your bed, hoping to outlive the rumbling of your stomach, you finally dragged yourself out and roamed your home for some more, glancing at the trash can full of crumpled papers and the broken glass cup you accidentally pushed off the table the night before. Opening your fridge you could only relish in the cold breeze that licked up your neck and face, but the food held within looked no more appetizing than the night before. You stood there for a while longer, waiting if suddenly, by some chance, you may get a craving for a slice of cheese or perhaps a pepper instead.

Around half an hour later your ears were grated by the sudden ring of the bell, which snapped you out of whatever damp thought you had at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone - matter of fact, you told your close ones you needed space and time to heal from the ‘fever’ you told them about. 

Yet when your heavy feet delivered you to the door, you couldn’t say you were surprised by who was behind them. Greeted by the sight of damp purple hair and coral eyes, heavy with intent to get dry, you could only clear your throat before Veritas spoke up for you.

“I got your messages this morning. Quite late to send such notices for work, wouldn’t you say?”

“..What?” you blinked owlishly at him, completely lost for words. 

“Hm, what? You sent me messages you were feeling unwell, multiple of the same as well.. I thought it would do us both well to check in on you” Veritas stood looking down at you, letting all the cool air in as you remained glued to the door like a statue, heavy lidded eyes and ears struggling to process what he had said. You were sending the messages to your boss - but in your anguished stupor you have sent them all to him instead. The malicious feeling came back underneath your ribs and stabbed right up, and you could see Veritas’ eyes widen upon seeing your face morph into a frown-pout. 

“Here, let me in, will you? You don’t want to get even more sick, or get me sick as well?” he tried to urge as gently as he could, walking in when you stepped aside and putting down a grocery bag for just enough that it took him to take off his shoes. His umbrella was put in the corner, sopping wet and letting you know it was still raining. You stood stiff in the hall, shoulders wanting to push up to your cheeks while your hands crossed at the wrists down in front of you. You sighed quietly, watching him as he straightened up, looking over at you.

With a step he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up already as he said “Come here..” and his palm pushed gently against your forehead. His touch was warm, and from how close he stood you could smell the damp smell of rain and autumn leaves. It was refreshing.

It was a quiet moment as he assessed you in the entry hallway. “Doesn’t appear you have a heightened temperature at all, but we’ll confirm that in a bit with a thermometer, just to be sure. Hmm.. you do look pale though. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to make something” You smoothly lied, not wishing to bring more shame by allowing him to look sad or worried or angry at you if you told the truth.

“Good. I’ll make you something. Now, don’t just stand in the hallway, come inside. You act more of a guest in your home than I do..” he motioned with his hand while taking a step to the side to let you through, urging you to come by, and when you did his hand found its spot at your lower back as if to guide you in. He hummed something softly in his throat, no certain melody but it was a small sign of his focus, and perhaps the liberty he found in your home. “Would you like to sit down here, or be with me in the kitchen?” he asked and you can’t help but gawk a little with the way he addressed you so gently, warmly, all while you felt slimy and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“With you, I’d like to be with you in the kitchen”

He nodded, his eyes mellowing further as he motioned for you to come with him, his grocery bag rustling as he lifted it up to set it on the counter. You slipped into a high chair at the kitchen island, watching as he pulled out a whole chicken, celery, onions and carrots. In his orderly fashion he sorted them out in a line before him, and by now he was quite familiar with the placements of things within your home and had no trouble finding the plates, the cutting boards and the rest of the ingredients. He washed his hands before handling the ingredients directly. 

“Can I do something to help?” you muttered after the lump in your throat felt so huge, nearly about to pop out of your mouth. Sitting idle did more harm than good, it showed in your shoulders and eyes. Veritas looked your way and shook his head, coming a bit closer until he could lean down and plant his lips to your forehead warmly, letting his lips linger a moment longer. 

“You can sit there and relax, I got this” he told you in a softened tone, going back to his cutting board. 

Veritas was no fool, he never  was, and especially not with you. He knew this was no fever, even if he did end up making you stay still as he handed you the thermometer to check again after he let the chicken cook in a pot along with the vegetables and herbs, standing next to you until that fateful beep sounded over the simmering and bubbling water.  No fever.

While the chicken was cooking, making the smell waft in the air in delicious waves, Veritas opened you up to conservation, small talk mostly until you relaxed further, distracted by the endless flow of words. He told you about what happened in the time of your absence, and what he has been up to with the Guild and what shenanigans his student did too. The last topic got a giggle out of you, and Veritas seemed to glow at the sound. He smiled too, along with you.

Hunger seemed more natural and welcome now as a bit more life returned to your joints and you rose from your seat to pace around the kitchen, still tired but more.. alive, just that - alive. Alive and comfortable. You would occasionally glance into the pot, narrowly missing the gust of steam that jumped up from the pot. 

“Should be done about now.. let me see... hmm” Veritas nudged against you over the stove, wearing kitchen mittens and removing the pot off the heat, and you promptly turned it off  and watched what he did. 

Veritas had made this recipe once before, when you really did have a fever. ‘Healing chicken vegetable soup’ - he said it was called, a recipe he seemed to recall from younger years of his childhood. You wanted to learn to make it and try to make it, but it would seem he never got sick or that he let you do it. This dish was his in truth. 

What came of his meticulous work was a delicious plate of soup with cut chicken meat, not a bone in sight. It was soft on the throat, although you ended up adding a bit more seasoning for your own tongue while Veritas dined on the soup as it was. He was slow with it, bent on observing you eat. 

“I assume that it is to your liking?”

You nodded, mouth full to respond. 

“Good. I am glad of it. Sometimes you have to take the back seat to get the joy of life, no matter how long you remain in that station it will be well worth it once you get back into the driver’s seat” He told you, hoping to get to you without addressing the matter directly, knowing it may result in more harm than good and your mood was just beginning to look up.

“Yeah… I know, Veritas. Yet having spent so much time at the head of it all, taking the back seat feels like a punishment” you managed to say after nearly scalding your throat with how eagerly you swallowed your bite, wanting to converse with him.  

“It is not a punishment, especially not when you know you need such a change in perspective. You’re doing yourself a misdeed by rooting yourself to the place that drained you in the first place” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Pft- now, don’t be so brazen with me after letting me see you so wilted” he bit back quickly, but he held no actual malice, only wasn’t prepared for your rebuttal. He cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea he prepared for you both. Veritas was human too, and you knew of his own trials and errors more than anyone else - of course he felt the same, but you didn’t need to force him to admit it.

You smiled at his jab, scooping up more soup. 

“Wilted? I have to thank you for the nourishment then, I am already feeling more.. revitalized” you told him and your look softened his own when you looked up at him. Color seeps back into your cheeks, and you don't wobble in your step or stumble. Your bones felt like bones again, not air. 

“I will take your thanks properly once you really feel better.. until then, I’d prefer if you ate well and actually took some of the advice I gave you.. I may have not said it but your message did worry me greatly..”

The words made you slow down in your motions and you looked at him in silent apology now, but he once again beat you to speaking. “Imagine - I had to cancel my classes. What will my students think now?”

“They must be thinking it’s the end of the world”

“Hah” His pearly whites show as he grins at your words and you nearly imitate him, but you smile regardless with what energy you got back. He is leaning back in his seat, arms crossed in an almost boyishly fashion, relaxed. “Perhaps, but I can easily make up for a missed class. Let them think what they will.. May this even get their mind spinning a little bit more if my absence is so heatedly understood”. 

By the time you were done sharing jabs and words, you had eaten more than you expected. The warmth of the tea and soup brings sleep to pull at your eyelids, beckoning you to close them. Veritas noticed you nearly nodding off at the table and was quick enough to come up to your side, hand on the opposite shoulder from where he stood. 

“It is time you go get to bed”

Had you had any more strength, you would have said you needed to get to working on those papers, but the memory of the same was lost in the night before, and all you could think of how comfortable the pillow will be when your heads falls onto it, and how warm Veritas’ arms will be when he lays down next to you.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/n: the recipe is actually a greek recipe ehehhehee, I wanted a little easter egg

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere Genshin

Prompt: youve caught their eye but… you’re already taken… that won’t be a problem…

Cw: yandere duh, mentions of murder and violence, manipulation, kidnapping, etc. fem reader

Characters: Jean, Diluc,Yelan, Neuvillete

Jean finds herself more and more infuriated with your commitment everyday. A simple hunter from Springvale is the one that catches your eye? How absurd! She knew she should’ve been more forward with her tatics. Oh this frustration and heartbreak has been tormenting her, impacting her work ethic as she tries to give you space. But its hard because you work for her. A cutesy little maid. You belong to her.. you’re everything she could want in a partner. So delicate, so plump, you’re the perfect bride. There’s no way she’s letting a man who can’t read s kid’s book without struggle surpass her!

So… she staged a little accident lets say.. she happened to cut the patrols in the area, making them closer to the city itself. That way there still was protection for the city… just not for the hunters. For awhile they’d been complaining sbout how the patrols spooked the boar. Even though those patrols were meant to cut down and discourage hilichurl camps. From a political perspective she just gave the hunters what they wanted. To up the anti more she had Kaeya tell him about a legendary boar deep into the wilderness. How the boars get bigger in hilichurl camps because they’ve started to fence them off and fatten them up, if he goes at night when they’re asleep, he could surely nail himself a big boar and pass it as a authentic catch…

The short of it was this. Your almost boyfriend snuck into one of the biggest hilichurl camps without the knights patroling nearby. And Kaeya knowing Jean’s work was negatively impacted by him.. may or may not have done something to alert the hilichurls to the the intruder. Quickly he was overwhelmed and beaten. With no knight in sight he was all alone. His struggle only made the hilichurls more violent. They threw him out, beaten to a pulp. When he saw Kaeya he was relieved thinking he was saved. But Kaeya had orders to finish the job of need be.

His death? A accident. Later hunters found him rotting near the camp, no foul play found. No one knew of his idea or who gave it to him, or who gave that person the idea. In your devastation you ended up right in her arms weeping.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I’ll make sure patrols return to normal and those camps are wiped out soon enough. I won’t let you experience such hardship ever again.” Crying to your boss felt so unprofessional but Jean was just so comforting to you. You had been putting on a brave face until now. You stood as she held you. “Lisa bought me this tea recently. It helps to steady my mind when I’m stressed, would you like me to give you some. I know it won’t remove your pain but it should help you somewhat. Unfortunately I can’t give you time off as two others are currently sick. But once they’re back I’ll give you some vacation okay?” She wiped your tears as you nodded.

“Th-that’s reasonable.. th-thank you.. oh god i must be such a burden. You’re already so stressed i didn’t mean to make it worse for you-“

“That’s not the case at all. I care about you. I want you to be safe and happy as every citizen in Mondstadt should be.” She kissed your forehead as she handed you the cup she prepared. “Here drink some tea. It was originally for me but I figure you need it more. I haven’t dranken from it.”

“Y-you’re sure that’s okay? I don’t mind waiting for another cup.” You asked. Oh how innocent you looked. Jean hated how she had to come to this, asking Lisa for a love spell to be put into the tea. But she couldn’t risk doing this to every suitor who got close to success. She needed to make sure you chose her otherwise she might go further next time.

“Its fine.” She said. You drank it with no further complaints.

Diluc was certain this was some sick prank. You, his beloved little maid, in love with nothing more than a simple merchant? Its not uncommon for the route from dawn winery to be used. But a certain merchant he purchased seeds from seemed to be getting far too close to you. Sure you two weren’t dating, he hadn’t even made the first step. But now he was absolutely was going to take drastic measures.

The first step: Distract you. You found yourself being assigned to chores more indoors an less outdoors. Diluc could sense how you would look out beyond hoping to see him again and he didn’t want that to continue. The second step was to lure said merchant back on a day you weren’t working. His arrival was horrible as the maids had all gone home leaving Diluc and Adelinde to recieve him, on a new moon, there was no moon to illuminate his path home so Diluc offered him to stay the night. He thought of this gratefully, originally the death Diluc planned was a simple killed in his sleep. But when he asked about you… oh it activated something in him. He even brought you a gift… how thoughtful… Diluc struggled to maintain his composure.

The merchant never did make it past the night. Despite his struggles. His body found beneath the bridge near Stone Gate. A investigation launched but ultimately blamed on bandits. With it his gift was smashed. You were devastated yes but your employer seemed to suddenly be more attentive than usual. He offered you meals and tea. Often requesting just to talk to you.

“Its getting late. I really should be going.” You set the tea cup back. “This was nice though. I wouldn’t mind doing this again but… oh.. is it raining?” You look out to see water coating the windows as what sounding like rain came from outside.

“Oh my it appears to be. At this hour you would be most vulnerable if you left now. You have no pets correct?”

“No.. oh dear…” you silently began to worry.

“You could always.. stay over. There is many a guest room and there’s spare pajamas for you. I’m certain it’ll be better than getting sick. Besides there’s bandits on the roads at these hours. You remember what happened to that merchant.” His voice luring you to s false sense of safety.

“Yes… I’ve been quite nervous going home now to be honest. Do you know if they ever found who did it?”

“Still nothing. Guards are posted more though. But it wpuld be easier. You do have a early shift here anyways in the morning so you wouldn’t need to go home right away. If that sounds alright.” He says, you jolted slightly as his hand gently grazed yours as you held your jacket. At that moment thunder clapped, startling you.

“I suppose that makes sene. I’ll take you up on that offer then..” you smiled shyly.

“I’ll lead you to your room then.”

He wasn’t going to let you leave.

(A/n: this is a alternative route to my other work Yelan vs Pantalone, dont consider this cannon to that piece but as its own spinoff)

Everyone has secrets. And Yelan’s is the fact that she stole a bride straight from Pantalone. It was mostly just to spite him, and also because she’s a sucker for a pretty face and couldn’t stand letting that happen. But oh they’re far more irresistible than she could’ve imagined. Now that they’re safely hidden in the jade chamber, working as a intern. She’s been visiting them when she comes to visit Ninguang, lucky her that Ninguang would allow her little damsel to stay in the jade chamber. But while her back was turned to her former life, she set her eyes on the people once known as parents to them. Her little Damsel cannot return to her former identity ever. And thus its better for her to believe that Pantalone went back on his word and killed them.

And that’s exactly what ended up happening. The Fatui’s search was halted and stopped because the Millieth wasn’t going to let the Fatui kill civilians just because they lost a bride. Even though they insisted they didn’t all signs pointed to that. She then forged documents to show to her beloved little damsel that this was the plan from the beginning, that Pantalone would have killed her parents upon acquiring her. Like the others so far, she used this opportunity to soothe them and bring them closer. At least this way they are alive and safe rather than in the hands of their families killer. Only… they are infact in the arms of their families killer. All seemed well until some stupid guard started poking around. He seemed more interested in courting them, believing they myst secretly be from s powerful family outside of Liyue and hiding. It was a rumor she purposely started to cover for their true identity. But now it backfired as this man saw a opportunity to climb up the social ladder. She isn’t quite sure what his exact plan was but her guess was he intended to make her fall for him and then marry him when she returned to her life, this guaranteeing a life of luxury. Unfortunately for him that won’t be the case. But Yelan can’t go killing her own. So she decided to simply use her influence to have him demoted to ground work instead. Convincing Ningguang that if allowed to stay he’ll uncover their scheme. The reason given to him was that apparently he was too loud or social than was acceptable in such environments. Afterwards he died to a hilichurl raid. Whoops.

“You.. you got my stuff?” You were surprised when she came to you with a crate.

“Yes, since legally you’re dead, your parents stuff was sold at auction at request of your family members. I grabbed what I remembered you valued myself.” She said with s smile as you beamed at the sight of your old things.

“It won’t raise suspicions will it?” Yu asked.

“I won’t let it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details.” She said patting you.

“I-i don’t know what I could do to repay you. You’ve done so much for me i-i truly have never had someone like you in my life.” You looked at her expecting a sort of humble brush off or something to actually be named.

“A date would be nice. Once everything cools down of course.” Her voice was like a purr, making you flustered.

“O-oh sure.. as long as it won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Perfect.” She said. You didn’t see it but she was considering drugging your tea that sat on the table behind her. A love potion, how typical but how effective. But seeing your blush she could tell you had infact fallen for her already. Which made the potion more of a backup if you ever lost feelings.

Neuvillete is anything but dishonest. But… seeing you cling to the arm of a guard, how happy you two looked.. it left him green with envy and red with wrath. To control himself he decided to simply change the guards routine to be out of your way. But you just went to meet them after work. His favorite little employee falling for the guard rather than him.. he felt deeply insulted.

Time for more drastic measures. He asks a favor from the clueless and happy Sedene (a simple melusine) to sneak into his house. To which she happens to find something. Just as planned he spends his time arranging scenarios to increase suspicion causing the other guards perform a check up right as he is planted with primordial sea water. He is quickly taken away to be questioned. Meanwhile you are distraught. You never thought him capable of such feats. But alas he was hardly the man you thought he was.

“I-I’m so sorry.. i truly didn’t know anything… i- Oh god ll this time..” you were hyperventilating as you were brought into questioning. “I-i.. oh god.. am i in danger? I could’ve ended up just like those missing girls..” Neuvillette’s hands reached out to your space as if to tell you to quiet down.

“I understand this situation is difficult. If necessary I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself. There isn’t any reason I have to suspect you but I still have to take precautions. You agreed to the random house search and no trace of seawater was found. I’m simply asking if he told you of anything suspicious or gave you any implications of his true nature.” He lowered his voice in a more gentle manner than he would in court. You sniffled as you wiped your tears.

“He.. he did keep inviting me to his place. I never went though. I didn’t think we were far along to do such things.. you know like… intimacy..” you nervously muttered. He still heard you, he was pleased to know you two didn’t get too serious.

“Were you two officially a couple?”

“No.. but we were close… i was going to ask him but then this all happened and… you know the story from there.”

“Hmm.. I see. It appears you infact were a target. Is there any reason you can think of?” He says. The sight of you so heartbroken and shaking is strangely attractive to him. So timid, so easily manipulated.

“No.. no not at all.. i don’t understand why?” You seemed more and more frightened. “S-should i not leave the house for a bit. This sounds very scary.. i don’t know if I can continue my routine as normal like this!” You whimpered as your hands seemed to get closer to your body. As if you retreating into she’ll to hide in.

“Fear not, I’ll have the secret patrol watch over. And each guard will undergo inspections from here onward. But i will be seeing you more. I want at least weekly updates to know of any strange activities or unexpected changes. Understand?” He said. You nodded. “With my life, I promise you, you will be safe. And I will let no harm come to you.. ever.”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Stolen

I was furious.

Terrified. Completely enraged. Sick to my stomach. Overwhelmed and yet expected to function. To keep my shaking hands smooth and screaming thoughts orderly. All I wanted to do want scream. Cry. Destroy and destroy, weep and RAGE.

Then hide in a closet under blankets until the monsters went away.

But... but he wasn't going too, was he?

"Ah, my honored Sister, how good of you to join me." Greets the murderer before me, voice cool and smooth like the scales of a snake. There is a gleefully victorious lilt to that voice. A curling possessiveness to the title.

I am not his sister. We are not ever REMOTELY related. It is not even a matter of me disowning him for what he's down. It is simple truth. We are not, by blood, related. We were not RAISED together. Our relation? A farce. A legal machination by my... my Father, oh gods... No! Don't get swallowed by the memories! T-The blood. Focus!!

Fafnir is... WAS just one of many promising, talented, ambitious young men with no father's that DEFINITELY were my Father's bastard sons, no really. He most certainly wasn't COLLECTING meritorious youth into our house, under his name, and training them up with his wealth and influence. To bypass the bullshit class system and give them a chance at better lives!

Maybe suggest they pay it forward.

My father would never be so duplicitous. No, no, he was just a very lustful man... that no one ever saw going out to have sex. Who's wife had never been the least bit upset with him. And to whom he was fiercely loyal. Yes. Very, very lustful my father... w-was.

It was just while the family continued it's work on opening up opportunities for the lower classes. Jobs and better quality of life. Hospitals and schools. Fighting against those who benefited from nothing changing. It was slow. Like pulling teeth. The work of lifetimes, he'd said. I... I was expected to help continue it.

I'd been GLAD too. So utterly RELIEVED I was reborn into a house with some fucking sense of RESPONSIBILITY. Duty and honor and taking care of people! Building up social services! I had grand plans. Even after recognizing, a little alarmed, that I was on the fringe of a god damned OTOME game of all things.

One I barely remembered. Had played, loved most likely, as a preteen. A literal lifetime ago.

It didn't effect me, right? I wasn't here for boys or parties. Politics or fanciful dreams. Let someone else have their lace filled, flower coated, high drama adventures of love. I had late night paperwork and community research. Surprise to orphanages and hospitals to insure their was no corruption or mischief going on.

That one health clinic in Oakworth that took forever to get going.

Except...

Except??

Fafnir was a capture target! Which is why it took me forever to realize. As he had been so very small and filthy at first. Then merely small and in poor health. Short hair because his poor hair had been beyond saving. We passed by each other. Nodded, maybe exchanged pleasantries, but did not truely interact.

He lived in the dorms. I lived in the main house. He was basicly a student my father was paying to have taught, using our name. I was my father's actual daughter. We may have LEGALLY been related. LEGALLY brother and sister. But in actuality? We were no such thing.

Honestly, most of the "Sons"? Kept their original last names in day to day life.

Or at least... they did.

I.. I think I had shit taste, as a preteen. That or my luck has finally run out. Maybe it was my family's fortune, that finally could no longer best the odds. After all, there is always one. That ONE soul. Who sees something good and doesn't care about anything or anyone but themselves. Ruins things for everyone.

As long as they get their's, right?

A sea of motivated and ambitious young men. Trying to change their station in life. Have Better and MORE. Change the world around them. Leave their marks. Is... ha! Is it any wonder, in hindsight, that our luck eventually gave out? It was always going too. I guess Fafnir just wanted MORE.

He was supposed to go to the Royal Academy, fall in love. Compete against prince's and duke's, knights and heirs to merchant companies. All for the heart of the only daughter of a Ducal house, that had been (of course) raised by peasants. A carriage accident and presumed death cliché.

I honestly couldn't even remember his route. I might have read about it. But had never PLAYED it. He had had short hair, all but two had. So I played the foriegn prince route, even though he was kind of an ass. He was a handsome one at least. At least to me. It was just, I had never... still never...

I liked men with long hair.

Something which I had never told anyone.

Yet? As Fafnir grew? He did not transition into the character I remembered, like the others had. He grew his hair out. Became not only fiercely protective of it, but invested in higher quality products to care for it. Discovered my favorite perfume maker and commissioned a cologne for himself, that would mix well with the scent I always wore. Systematically tracked down each and everything I've ever liked, behind my back, to consume and memorize every facet of them.

I was blind to it.

My Father was not.

And... a-and... it cost him his life.

Father was not pleased with want he saw. But assumed it was a crush at first. We were young after all. Young people do weird, awkward, over the line things. Are learning about boundaries even as they grapple with sudden floods of hormonal shifts. A terrible time, really. It could be excused. As long as it didn't go TOO far. So long as someone sat Fafnir down for a talk.

They did.

He got more subtle.

A cycle developed. One my Father was not pleased to see. Fafnir would cross boundaries, be caught, get scolded, and contritely apologize... then get more subtle in his approach. Be more clever. As though all he had learned was "don't get caught". and "if you want to get, what you want to have, you need to have the skills to get passed us."

He grew concerned. Eventually, alarmed. I had thought nothing of it, back then, because "of COURSE he was supposed to go" to the Royal Academy? But... we honestly, really, Truely? HADN'T sent anyone there before. And there HAD been far more skilled boy then him. Prodigies.

But... my favorite ribbon necklace had gone missing.

From the room where I slept.

Overnight.

My Father took one look at Fafnir's pleased expression amongst the chaos and needed no further proof. He would not kick him out. Far too dangerous, he thought. But he WOULD send him away. Now?

Now I wish he'd risked it. Because... because everyone was dead. Struck down by the monster we let into our home. And by ancient law, which we both KNEW he was planning to exploit? This was a... a "family matter". Because, after all, we WERE legally family. Members of the same House.

"Such hesitation, Sister. You'd think I was a threat." He muses into his cup of tea, swirling it lightly. His eyes flit back to me, lips curling just slightly. "Don't worry, though. I understand completely. I would never hurt you."

But he would hurt others. He already has. Most of them didn't survive it. Ha ha... like a brutal yank on some unseen leash. I want to cry. Not sure if this is what shock feels like. But yes, thank you, for the lovely remind, Fafnir. That you have filled my home with bodies. The corpses of those I loved.

I use what little dignity I have left to walk forward and sit down.

Oh look, he has utterly ruined all my favorite things in one blow. There, my favorite tea. That, my favorite flower. Across the table my favorite snacks. Even a few favorite fruits. A dish or two. My favorite cup. And now? N..NOW? All I will every be able to associate with them is death. The stench of copper and the horror of this moment.

The joy of them is gone.

"See? Isn't that better? No more standing awkwardly to the side. Now we can sit, face to magnificent face. I've brought you a few things I know you'll enjoy. Isn't that nice? I've wanted to do this for the longest time." He sighs in contentment, as though this were no more then a matter of busy schedules and social anxiety. "And now? Now we are finally together. Siblings for now, but I am working to fix that. And if i can't, well..."

His smirk was a thing of nightmares.

"I'm head of the house now. You're finally Mine."

[alchemania]

“Don't you hate her?”

Furina turned, eyebrows raised in confusion. “Huh?”

“Your creator. Don't you hate her?”

The girl pondered a moment, looking unsure. “I..don't know.”

“You should,” he asserted. “All this time you had to suffer alone, for what?? People who didn't even care about the real you?? People who were ungrateful and selfish and only cared about themselves, at the end of the day??”

“Not everyone is like that,” Furina protested, shaking her head slowly. “I ..did suffer, but it all worked out in the end. Besides, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her-”

“The same could be said for my mother,” Wanderer interrupted, eyes flashing. “I came into being because of her, but that doesn't make her a good person, or a good parent. She hurt me. These two facts can coexist. Focalors created you, yes, but she also subjected you to 500 years of suffering where you couldn't confide in ANYONE or risk losing everything. Wasn't that awful?? Wasn't it a horrible time? You were all alone living on a hope and a prayer, and if it went wrong, it would have been all for nothing. You were a means to an end, and what do you have to show for it? Sure, everybody was saved and all was well, but now you're just - a person, and people hate you for what you did, people hate you for what you DIDN'T do. Was it worth it?? Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” she nodded, after a beat. “Because, this is what I was created to do. And, I'm free now. I don't know what I'm going to do, but at least my life is mine. I can do whatever I want. I can live.” Wanderer's jaw clenched, and Furina frowned, nervously. “..why are you so angry?”

“Because SOMEONE has to be!” he shouted, voice cracking. “I mean- I heard about the trial, they were gonna kill you- they lured you there because you wouldn't talk, right? And then after everything, did anyone apologize to you or- praise you, for all the hell you went through? Anything??”

“.. Neuvillette is taking care of me.”

The pain on Wanderer's face was almost palpable, at that.

“..anything else?”

“.. it's fine," she tried to appease. "It's not like I serve any purpose anymore. Like I said, I did what I was created to, so I'm not of any use and-”

“Stop.”

“..what?”

“STOP- talking like that,” Wanderer snapped, eyes suspiciously glossy. She sounded so much like him, who he used to be, and it hurt so badly.

A blank sheet of paper has infinite potential, but it is nothing as long as it is empty, he'd said, a good while ago. He'd been wrong about himself, and Furina was wrong now.

“You're not just - what you were made for. You don't - what happened to you is wrong. You're not DISPOSABLE now that everything is over.”

“It- it was for everyone's sake, compared to my suffering, it's obvious what's more important! I had to save them! It’s what I was born for! It doesn't matter -”

“It DOES,” he yelled, eyes glowing an almost neon icy blue, and she startled. “Stop acting like your suffering was something that was necessary. Stop acting like it was just for the greater good. That doesn't matter! The fact of the matter is that you suffered, and you were hurt, and you're STILL hurting! And- barely anybody is there for you..your creator, she should have been there for you, she should have protected you, but she didn't. She didn't. And you - you have every right to be angry with her, for not being there for you. For you being unable to live, until now. It was wrong, even if it was, as she claimed, for the greater good. Don't defend her.”

"She loved me-"

"And she left you, so not enough."

Just like my mother ..

“...Wanderer,” Furina ventured, worry all over her face.

“What?”

“You're crying…”

..oh. He hadn't even noticed, but his cheeks WERE wet, and he put a hand to one with a start, quickly scrubbing at his face. “Ah-” and he pulled his hat over his face, to hide it.

“..it was a lot. I often wondered when everything would end. I wanted, to tell someone so badly what was going on,” Furina admitted, and Wanderer looked up, eyes red from weeping. “There were a lot of times I didn't think I was going to make it, but. But I did, and, and everything was okay.”

“But are you?”

There was a long pause, and the two of them stared at each other until Furina slowly shook her head no, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

“See? You're - we're both so messed up, from everything, and no one was there,” Wanderer almost whispered, looking out the window. "No one was there to help. ..You're strong as hell, I'll give you that. If I was in your shoes, I don't know if I would have made it. It seems people are stronger than I've given them credit for..”

It was something that surprised him, again and again.

“I just don't understand why you care..”

“.. I don't know why I do,” he shrugged. “Maybe because you remind me of myself, and. It hurts, looking at you and feeling like I'm looking in the mirror. But someone has to be in your corner and -”

“And you want to do that?”

A pause.

“..Well, if you don't stand up for you, no telling who will.”

“You don't have to cry over me. I'm -”

“If you say you're not worth it, I am going to bodyslam you,” Wanderer growled, eyes flashing, and Furina put up her hands.

“I wasn't going to! I was going to say that I will be okay. Not now, but. Eventually. I'm healing. I promise. There's people who care, like you.”

Wanderer fell silent then, looking away, and she reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I'm still wrestling with - with what I want to do and where I'll go but. It's nice to know that I'm valued just for existing.”

“That's all you need to be valued,” he muttered, looking to the floor. “You don't have to prove the worth of your existence. It's fine to just be.”

“..are you talking to yourself, or me?”

He looked to her then, expression unreadable, and she smiled sadly, in understanding. “Both is good. It's okay to just be. We're here, and we'll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Wanderer whispered, giving a shaky breath. “..we will."

[whumpshaped]

shax & cassael playtime

prev masterlist

tw religious themes, self-blame, extreme guilt, cannibalism, gore, broken bones, blood, angel whumpee, demon whumper

Shax was rough. He was in a hurry, he was eager to do whatever he could fit into the one hour he'd been granted, and Cassael could very much tell. He was so hungry for the control and dominance he could assert over them for once, and he was desperate to take advantage of it to the fullest.

Well, he was hungry in every sense of the word.

"Please, stop!" Cassael shrieked when he took another chunk of their thigh, trying not to look at Shax's blood-soaked face. "Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"What're you even apologising for?" he asked between two bites, quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You keep saying that."

"I don't know!" It hurt. Their whole body hurt, but the raw and exposed flesh on their leg was throbbing and radiating to every other part of them. It was pure agony, and they couldn't think. "I don't exactly know, I'm sorry, I don't even know what I have done. I don't– don't know why I am being punished... please, please I just want it to stop, whatever I did, I'm sorry..."

Shax absentmindedly dug his fingers into the wound, earning another high-pitched scream. "This isn't a punishment," he said in a tone that suggested even the stupidest of people should've been able to tell. He held up his hand that was now coated in Cassael's golden blood. "I'm just hungry, and this shit is the tastiest fucking thing around. This, and the way you get so anxious to see me. It's delicious."

"You wouldn't know," they sobbed. "You're not the one punishing me."

"Oh, we're playing that game." He grabbed their face and squeezed, claws digging into their skin and eyes blazing with the fury of someone who had been pushed aside for centuries at this point. "You think I'm a nobody."

"We both are! We all are!" They couldn't think of anything but the teachings instilled in them from the beginning of their existence. It was all coming out at the worst possible moment and there was no stopping it. Shax actually seemed taken aback by it.

"What?"

"You can't punish me... and, and you can't forgive my sins either... I– I need, need to repent, and–"

"Oh. Oh." He slowly let go, scoffing. "You angels... You're such a stupid lot. You're all so hung up on 'sin', and 'forgiveness', and 'God'. You're fucking idiots. Where's your God? Is He hearing all those apologies?"

"Yes," they said emphatically. "Yes, and if– if He decides not to save me, it's not because He can't."

"Have you ever thought that your suffering might just be entertaining?" Shax grabbed them by the arm, one hand on their wrist and the other on their upper arm; and then he snapped the bone like a twig. Cassael cried out in pain, sobbing and trying to pull away. Shax let them, watching them cradle their injured arm with nothing but glee in his eyes. "Have you ever thought that maybe He just loves seeing you like this? Maybe He's just like us, getting off on seeing you cry. Maybe we'd even get along."

Cassael shook their head frantically, distraught by the idea. God had a reason. God always had a reason. And it was not that He was conspiring with demons.

"You know what?" He grabbed them by that same arm again, yanking on it to make Cassael weep louder. He raised their hand to his mouth, biting off a finger quicker than Cassael could even process what was happening. But when they did, they couldn't hold back any of those delightful, pained sounds. "I think I actually quite like carrying out God's will."

next

~

taglist: @the-scrapegoat @heavenlyeden @whumpsday @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @bloodinkandashes

[pinievsev]

omg okay so I am just fucking in love (platonic) with Edmund Pevensie (Skandar Kynes as Edmund was my first and only and forever "celebrity" crush and I grew up with him and my heart is his still) and recently I just reignited this by simply remembering he exists and I'm actually myself writing a one-shot of him seeing his first major snowstorm in England (because Narnia had gentle winters and warm summers and he hasn't seen snow like this since the White Witch)

BUT ANYWAY

literally anything about him being a sad boi and being comforted by his siblings or caspian because he is so good and noble and honorable and makes the Right decisions even if they are painful (he chose to go back to England even knowing he would never get to be in Narnia again at the end of the voyage and I am *weeping*) He doesn't need anyone to save him or fix him but that doesn't mean the scars don't hurt or that his heart doesn't have a broken void that h was once filled with his time in Narnia.

Just, I love him so much. He's been through so much. He's always the one with a quip or a joke to help keep things light hearted (even more so than Lucy at times) and I just want this baby to be held and loved <3

BROTHER

This turned out to be a blurb because I had no idea how to make it longer without uhm, simple rewriting the events of the actual movie so this focuses more on their friendship!

Genre: Friendship fic

Characters: Caspian x Edmund (PLATONIC)

Warnings: Angst.

Synopsis: Read the ask<3 (takes place in the end of the voyage of the dawn treader)

Word count: 514

As always: requests are opened, masterlist is pinned<3.

© @pinievsev on Tumblr please do not repost on other platforms or translate

Edmund's eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked back, there wasn't much to see. Simply an endless horizon and pearly white sand that seemed to blend together seamlessly. Yet to his eyes it was still Narnia.

The kingdom he once ruled, the kingdom he once loved and will love till his last breath, the last beat of his heart.

He averted his gaze slightly to his right. Caspian and Aslan stood there, Aslan looked calm as he always does no matter the situation, he admired that about the brave lion.

Yet Caspian looked at him with such sadness in his eyes, almost as if he were to break down at any given moment. That's what Edmund felt like, he understood.

Without thinking Edmund took big strides towards the man and engulfed him in a hug, the both of them allowing the tears to flow freely.

Then Caspian said something, something Edmund would never forget, five words that were to be embedded in his heart for all eternity even after his time was up.

"I will miss you, brother." Edmund felt Caspian's embrace tighten and mirrored the action. Then the king of Narnia spoke up once more "you're the closest thing I ever had to a family. Remember that."

Edmund let a sob leave his lips, knowing very well no one around would judge him, no one would think he was showing weakness, because he'd learned that that is what makes a true king. What shows bravery. Edmund was unafraid to show his vulnerability and he knew there was nothing wrong with that, not anymore.

"I'll miss you too, brother." He spoke, finally letting go of the man. "And I'll always be your family." He took a deep breath, his hands resting on Caspian's shoulders "we will always be your family."

Caspian smiled at the young king through his tears. "I know" he tried to sound supportive, yet it came out hushed and broken.

Edmund reached into his pocket and pulled out a single chess piece, made of solid gold. He'd kept it from last time. He placed it on the king's palm but before he could protest he hushed him. "I cannot take anything from Narnia." He said "but I can leave something. Keep it safe for me will you? I know it's not much but-"

He was embraced by Caspian, his brother, once more "I'll treasure it forever." The two stayed there, hugging for what seemed like an eternity

"you must go, child" Aslan's voice cut off the silence, like the sharpest blade to ever be forged.

Edmund stepped back with a nod. Capsian returned the action, clutching the chess piece tightly in his fist.

With a deep breath Edmund turned to his heel, walking into the portal Aslan had opened for them like he always did.. yet he knew this would be the last time.

"I'll be the greatest king I can manage to be. Like you once were." Was the last thing he heard.

'you already are' he thought before he was submerged in water once more. Back in England.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Ten characters. Ten fandoms.

Thanks for the tag @theradioactivespidergwen 🖤 I love this!

1. Aemond Targaryen

I don't think any of us are surprised by this. Aemond is...the boy is everything to me. He's let himself become so warped and tortured by his trauma that recovery and self betterment were never an option. He's full of rage, he's cutting off pieces of himself to stay Mommy's good little boy, he's begging his father via his actions to notice him, notice him, notice him. The toxicity is off the charts and I would give my life for this scared child in a man's body.

2. Nesta Archeron

Nesta is a stone cold bitch and I would die for her. This woman, barely not a girl, was ready to sell her body to ensure a better life was possible for her sisters, and the entire time she was denigrated by Feyre for "doing nothing" because what she did was woman's work. Who do you think did the cooking? The cleaning? The clothes mending? She helped end a war. She was violated. She had her autonomy stripped from her. She was not allowed to process her trauma in the way that came naturally to her because it was a mirror that Rhys couldn't handle looking in. Very few people deserve a happy ending as much as she does.

3. Kylo Ren

Give me a character that is tortured by their actions and the legacy of their past and I will show you my favorite little baby in the whole world. He's so alone. He doesn't know his way in the world. He can't live up to his mother or uncle or father or grandfather and it's eaten away at something vital inside of him, leaving him rotting. The mental torture and abuse he's endured at the hands of Snoke have twisted him into something unrecognizable. And I love him, damn it.

4. Ophelia

She is hope. She is madness. She is full of life and love and all of the things the people try to chip away at as we grow up. This rendition of Ophelia stands above the rest for me because she was finally given the opportunity to set aside her suffering and continue on, even if it's with the knowledge of what genuine pain feels like.

5. Zuko

Are we really surprised by the addition of another angry young man searching through vindication and the reclamation of his honor by living up to the expectations of people who never truly cared about them? This list has a theme apparently. Zuko had one of the best and most rewarding character arcs of all time and his journey is one I literally watch over and over. Also Zutara forever.

6. Sansa Stark

Sansa is all of the things that were conditioned not to like when it comes to a character. She's feminine and a little whiney and naive. She's fodder for torture. And yet she's also one of the strongest characters in this entire series, both book and show (boo hiss). Sansa Stark turns her fear into hope and her hope into strength and I will never not love her.

7. Fleabag

I am her. She is me. Fleabag will never fail to rip my entire heart out and feed it back to me. She's awful. She's incredible. She's in pain. She's stumbling through life in the dark and using her suffering as a marker on the map.

8. Astarion

The theme continues. Suffering? Check. Insurmountable pain? Check. Using his body as a way to ensure his safety? Check. Saved via the power of love and friendship? Check. Astarion's arc follows a typically feminine-coded route and I was obsessed from the get go with this cunty little man. I want to wrap him in a blanket burrito. I want to sink my teeth into him. I want to spray him with a hose.

9. Eddie Munson

I'm not sure I've ever loved a character quite like I've loved Eddie Munson. The absolute heart of gold inside that poorly tattooed chest literally fuels me. He's insecure. He's an asshole. He's kind. He's angry. He's unsure of his place in the world. I will forever ignore the senseless tragedy of his death. It never happened. Nope. No. If I loved him less, I could talk about it more.

10. Dani Clayton

Dani Clayton, the love of my life. Though she weeps and trembles and avoids at all costs, there is no one stronger than Dani. She's suffered since the beginning and never let it stop her, not until she had to save the woman she loved by giving her very life. Tortured, haunted, so full of grief that it had nowhere to go. I would literally die for her.

No pressure tags: @jadore-andor @emilykaldwen @massivecolorspygiant @corrabell @cheesybadgers @ladylannisterxo @niocel @middimidoris

[pianocat939]

Hi! Could I send a request for Yandere Longan Cookie trying their best to comfort a sad reader after the world had fallen? Like Longan is destroying everything and doesn’t understand the emotions of cookies but notices the one cookie they wanted to save is sad that things are being destroyed and wants to make them feel better. I just like wholesome Yanderes who would bend the heavens and earth for those they love

I followed the request, mostly at least. I added a twist at the end but that’s because I thought it really makes it Yandere to me. I hope you don’t mind haha.

This definitely is not my best work but I think the twist at the end suffice for it.

Tw: Implied Genocide, MC is depresso espresso for the whole thing, betrayal, devastation (MC), Characters forced to be mute (not MC)

Read the Fine Print

Cookies are simply made to be destroyed. This is the only thought that runs through the mind of Longan Dragon. They’ve always believed this, since the age of dragons and Earthbread’s first beings. And yet, why did they feel so broken at the sight of the tears from a soft little weakling?

It hurts. It bleeds. It’s aggravating. Their heart is consumed by some unexplainable sadness. Why? This shouldn’t be happening. They are the strongest thing alive, a being meant to be cold and ruthless; not some sentimental coward.

“Why do you weep for them?”

The question slips out from their mouth, unmoving from the palace floors. Before them lays Y/n Cookie, a stream of salty liquid cascading down their cheeks as they realize the terror that befell the world. 

“Why? I-I think you know exactly why.”

Longan Dragon stares at them in confusion, pondering a reason why they’re in sorrow. 

“No, I do not know a reason why you would weep.”

Y/n Cookie laughs shakily before exclaiming, "You killed everything! All my friends, the ones I love, and even animals! How could you not know the reason why I'm crying?" They glare at the dragon in fury, rage taking over their prior grief. They slowly stand up, eyes unbreaking from Longan Dragon. In a flurry of emotions, they charge forward while yelling, “Give them back! Make them living again!” They don’t care if it’s futile, any chance to avenge their friends is a worthy reason. 

The dragon effortlessly evades, puzzled about why they’re being attacked. Shouldn’t they be happy? They erased everything for them, including the innocent creatures who once roamed the land. Nothing is going as planned.

If Y/n Cookie is upset, then surely something is missing. Is it an item? Or perhaps a title? They cannot think of any cause that would cause despair and anger. Unless...No, it’s too unworldly. There is no purpose why they would miss the cookies; those filthy and undeserving pastries. 

“Why didn’t you destroy me? I’m a cookie too!” 

A few moments pass and Y/n Cookie continues to sob meanwhile Longan Dragon is in deep thought. Their eyes suddenly widen, realizing the reason why they’re so downhearted. They wanted companionship. There is no other explanation possible for the effects of destroying the world.

What an easy fix. All they need is some company, right?

“I will make a deal with you: stay by my side and I will bring the cookies back to life.” They expectantly stare down at the cookie, eager to hear their answer.

“Yeah right. You’re going to betray me by not bringing them back at all. Plus, I don’t trust you.” They argue, eyes narrowed in disgust. 

“Yes, but what good is it for the one I wanted to save to be depressed? I may think all but dragons are lesser than me, but I am not heartless.”

The duo stare at each other, neither moving from their positions. Finally, Y/n Cookie breaks the silence, “Fine. But if you even dare to not follow the deal then I will make sure that you regret leaving me alive.”

“As you said.”

A bright beam shoots out from Longan Dragon, blinding everything around it. 

——————————————————

In the palace, Gingerbrave and the others all awaken. They look around and observe each other, but no one speaks. In another room, Y/n Cookie dashes to where their friends reside. 

“Guys! You’re alive!” They stand before the group, eyes bright with hope. 

The cookies do not answer, only blankly watching the now worried cookie.

“Hey...Are you guys alright?” 

“Do not try, their personalities are gone. They cannot speak. All they can do is roam along this earth and survive.” Longan Dragon appears behind Y/n Cookie, putting a hand on their shoulder. They lean down, a vicious smile creeping onto their face.

“I followed the deal; I brought them back to life. I never stated they would be the same…”

——————————————————

I’m proud of myself this week. I’ve been so productive and getting things done. Just one more request and I open my inbox again…

- Celina

[sinfulpunishment]

✎ᝰ┆Hail Mary

─❏ Warnings: implied suicide

─❏ Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky

─❏ Synopsis: Would mama be proud?

─❏ A/N: i support fyodor being a mama’s boy allegations

inspired by ventoavreo

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Despite the sun shining brightly down upon this town, the world in my eyes had been completely drained of its color.

I knelt before the stone slab of which had your name engraved on it, my hands clasped together in prayer with white, wilting lilies woven between my small, frost bitten fingers. Never would I have known that being near you would feel so cold and harsh, for it had never felt that way before.

The church had refused to give you a proper service due to the nature of your untimely passing. Much to my disliking, I could not argue against God. I knew that if I had, you would have given me a frown to remind me of my faith.

And so, with my own hands, as well as the help of a few of your acquaintances, I laid you down to rest in the earth. I had gathered my own flowers and coins to lay in your bed alongside you, a bed you will never rise from—I hope it is comfortable and to your liking.

I did my best to dress nicely for the occasion, I even assisted in making sure that you looked just as beautiful as always, despite your fading complexion. I planted one final, gentle kiss upon your once warm cheek before they lowered you into the ground, covering their mistakes with dirt. I did not cry, I did not believe that you would have wanted me to.

She always had the warmest embrace. The way she would cradle me in her arms made it feel as if nothing else in the world mattered besides us. You were like an angel, or perhaps even a saint. Alas, your passing certainly proved to me your mortality far too soon.

I wish you would hold my face in your delicate hands once more, looking at me with the most gentle of eyes—eyes that, when gazed into, felt as if one had fallen into a pool of silk. I wish to hear your voice, reminding me that I am blessed by God, I am loved by God, but, most importantly, I am loved by you.

I wanted nothing more than to show you the world I would have created, a world without sin, just as God had intended. You would have loved it there because you would have been happy. No longer would you spend nights weeping and worrying over what you’re going to do to get through this next month, everything would be prepared for you beforehand. It would make you smile, and I believe that would make it all worthwhile.

You used to tell me that I was special, that I must be a gift from God. Though, you weren’t the only one to say that, it felt far more significant coming from you. You were different from anyone else, you weren’t tainted by humanity’s sin.

At least, you used to be clean…

Oh, my dearest mother, what did they do to you? Why did they push their grievances upon you? You had nothing to do with their affairs, you were but a bystander, and yet they hurt you.

What a terrible experience it is to feel the warmth flee from someone’s body along with their life, especially when that someone is your own mother. Discovered laying on the kitchen floor, mouth agape with that crimson ink spilling from it—there was blood pooling around the body on the floor. She was barely recognizable, not because of any disfigurement, but because she was a woman of strong faith.

What could have driven someone so dedicated to God to such an act?

You were once so pure, free of sin, I thought you were above it. Yet, they tainted you. They hurt my mother. You left this world—you left me in one of the most sinful ways possible. I wonder if they’re proud of what they did to you.

These sinful people, filled with nothing but greed and driven by desire, they soiled your good name. They disgust me beyond belief, and yet, I still pity them. If only there was someone who could save them from their sin…

God ensures everything happens for a reason, right mama?

I will show them the light of God. They will soon know the meaning of my name. May they repent and pray for God’s forgiveness at the pearly gates. I do not care if they are forgiven or not, part of me hopes they will be damned for the rest of their time away from the Earth.

I hate them.

I hate them all.

May God pity their souls, it’s the only hope they have left.

Even now, I feel you embracing me; so warm and comforting, it feels like home. I will take you with me to a new world.

I will make you proud, mama.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Mother of God, Son of God.

[bitchfitch]

The cup of tea was warm in his hands. The few leaves that had escaped the strainer floating placidly on the surface. Esti focussed on their gentle paths, swirling the cup occasionally to keep them moving as for every second he was focused on them he could avoid looking at his mother across the table from him.

Corvus was the image of matronly patience as she waited for him to break the silence. Her own cup on the table in front of her, neatly sat on its little plate like it was to be the third participant in what Esti was predicting to be an absolutely miserable conversation.

"I love him," Esti started. It was a fact. It deserved to go first. He only said it because he knew it would be the absolute last thing she would want to hear.

"I'm aware."

Her plan wasn't difficult to parse out. She needed him on his back foot and knew nothing was harder for him than having to ask for what he wanted. Especially when it went so far against the will of who he was asking for it from. She would deny him either way, but making him ask meant he wouldn't ask so him failing this negotiation would be wholly his fault instead of her refusing to just let them be happy-

"I'll allow you to marry him so long as you give me a way to keep you safe."

"What?" Esti couldn't believe what his brain was telling him he'd heard her say.

"Did you already change your mind?" The teasing smile on her voice was full of the summer night warmth he'd almost forgotten she was capable of.

"No! No- Of course not. But, really? I- Thank you," he bumbled through a few words as every question and expression of gratitude tied themselves in knots in their race to his tongue.

"Yes, Esti. Pavo is... not my first choice for you, but he argued his case and made a few promises that, should he keep his end of the deal, were too good for our people for me to refuse," she sighed and rested her hands palm up on the table between them, a silent invitation that Esti gladly accepted. He set his cup aside and placed his in hers. His deep grey skin looking so much lighter than it was against the true light eating darkness of hers. "I hope he is good to you. I hope and wish and pray to every deity that might listen to my words as though they are coming just from a mother instead of one who is a demon as well, that he proves me wrong in every way," she squeezes his hands, "I worry I am sacrificing you to a monster for the sake of those who pretend you aren't my eldest son. I want to be wrong, but I still worry."

"You are, I- I promise it Mother. He's kind to me. He's never once been a monster to me and he never will be. I swear it."

"Do you think the brides slaughtered by their beloveds thought they were beasts before they sent them weeping to their graves? You can not know he will remain kind... That's why my approval of your marriage to him is conditional."

He felt a twinge of something curl in the back of his gut. Suspicion or anxiety or some worry he may not be able to give her what he needs to to have the groom he desires more than a bat with shredded wings desired the open air of the night sky.

"All I ask is that you give me a way to bring you home should he prove unworthy of your love. Tell me how to see through the wards that keep his village hiddencfrom demon-kind so that I can come save my son should he ever need me to."

Esti swallowed hard, trying to drown out they growing growling feeling with the hope and joy earning her permission will bring him. If sharing one secret was all it took to have Pavo's hand he couldn't possibly deny her it right? It was just one secret.

"In the clearing before the gate, face away from it and walk forwards while making yourself believe that you will pass through it. When you should be stood below the archway make the sigil of his house in the air before you. You will be within the village when you take your next step," his dread built with every word.

She let go of his hands. Her next action was nearly lost to the thick shadows that clung to her fingers, but still, he saw her remove the wedding band his father had proposed to her with.

"Thank you, I know what sorts of suspicions he has probably filled you with, so I hope this will be a strong enough gesture to convince you I do truly intend to only use that information if he goes back on his promises of your safety in his care," she sets the ring on the table before him. "I would like it if you proposed to him here in your maiden home so that we may celebrate the engagement as a family. As you do not just have my permission, but my blessing as well."

The ring didn't feel real when he picked it up. It was heavy in his hand, and warm from her skin. The metal hard and smooth and the gems glittered in their settings, but it still didn't feel real.

He had spent weeks pacing and trying to think up back up plans for his back up plans. Never, in any of his anxious strategizing had he thought she would say yes without an argument about avoiding war and breaking his heart. Even then, her blessing was something he had written off completely. A quick disowning was what he presumed would be the best result not... this.

She came around the table and wrapped him in a hug as she shushed him. He hadn't even realized he had begun to cry.

"Thank you. Thank you. I- I I have nothing else, just thank you," he leaned against her, wiping at his eyes and trying valiantly to stop his tears. The relief and elation drowned out his worry. Of course he was just being paranoid. Of course she wanted nothing but what was best for their family. He tried to apologize for doubting her, but his blubbering mangled the words beyond what was recognizable.

Corvus chuckled and rubbed his shoulder when she let go. "Go now. Your groom is probably planning something stupid. Give him the news before he has time to act on those plans."

Esti nodded, and was on his feet in a stumbling trot to the door before he could think himself into a new anxiety spiral.

Beyond the door, Pavo leaned against the wall, his agrivated grimace turning to an expression of worry as he saw the tears. Esti was in his arms and burrying his face against Pavo's chest before he had time to demand to know what had happened.

Any thought of grand romantic gestures Esti might have had were eaten by his eagerness as he grabbed for Pavo's hand the instant he could bare to back away enough to do so. Wordlessly he put the ring on Pavo's little finger, the band being sized for someone with much finer hands barely fit but the implications of the action still rung loud and clear.

Pavo looked between the ring and Esti and Corvus. His worry turning to surprise then to the same elation Esti clearly felt as he wrapped him in his arms again. Heftig him up and spinning him with giddy love sick glee. Cackling his acceptance of the proposal and looking more like a person than Corvus had ever seen him as before.

Pavo barely set Esti back down on his feet, still not letting him go, before he was addressing her, "Thank you. You won't regret this. I swear it on my life that I will keep him safer and happier than anyone else could, and if I fail that it will be my own blade I fall too."

[svnnyd4ys]

(some of the) eah royals as incorrect quotes!

Blondie: Apple noticed only today that they can label their email inboxes, but they took apart their entire bloody laptop two weeks ago. Lizzie: This reminds me of the Apple who couldn’t turn on the coffee maker, but remembers about 500 digits of pi. Blondie: I’ll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same Apple.

!!!

Duchess: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation. Ashlynn: So you're just gonna wait until Briar is in danger and save them? Duchess: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them. Ashlynn: ... Ashlynn: You're insane.

!!!

Blondie: *fills up bottle and drinks from that* Ashlynn: *brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen* Apple: *drinks straight from the tap* Duchess: *dehydrates* Lizzie: *drinks from the puddle of water on the floor* Briar: *licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

!!!

Duchess: Fine! Judge all you want but... Duchess, points at Ashlynn: Married a lesbian. Duchess, points at Lizzie: Left a man at the altar. Duchess, points at Blondie: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer. Duchess, points at Apple: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire. Duchess, points at Briar: Lives in a box!

!!!

Apple: From now on we will be using code names. Apple: You can address me as Eagle One. Apple: Blondie is “been there done that”. Apple: Briar is “currently doing that”. Apple: Ashlynn is “it happened once in a dream”. Apple: Lizzie is “if I had to pick a wonderlandian". Apple: And Duchess is.. Apple: Eagle Two Duchess: Oh thank god.

!!!

*Briar comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Blondie’s bedroom.* Blondie: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Briar: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Briar: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Blondie: ...

!!!

Briar: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Duchess: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Ashlynn: More or less, I guess... Apple: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Lizzie: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Blondie: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

!!!

Duchess, reading the newspaper: Huh. Did you know Nickelodeon opened a hotel? Briar: Yeah, I went there once. There was a dead squirrel in the pool and I made some of Ashlynn cry by telling them it was the real Sandy.

!!!

Apple: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Duchess, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

!!!

Blondie: What makes you think it's okay to watch Hannibal given its subject matter? Ashlynn: Sometimes, I watch television shows for entertainment purposes. Briar: Because I condone murder and cannibalism.

!!!

*The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one* Apple: I will not let you down. Duchess: Sounds fun. Ashlynn: K. Blondie: No, I'm fucking not. Lizzie: Do I have to be? Briar: Please god, I am so tired.

!!!

Ashlynn: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Briar: Aren't you forgetting something? Ashlynn: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Briar's forehead before running out.* Briar: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

!!!

Briar: *sighs* Blondie: You bored? Briar: Yeah. Blondie: Wanna start drama for no reason? Briar: I thought you’d never ask.

!!!

Lizzie: Punch me in the face. Duchess: ...Punch you? Lizzie: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? Duchess: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

!!!

Apple: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

!!!

Briar: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

!!!

Ashlynn, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

!!!

Duchess: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches.

!!!

Lizzie: Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

!!!

Blondie: I was born for politics! I have great hair and I love lying! !!!

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

A seal-skin around my shoulders (part 8)

Elendil x Selkie!reader

(No Elendil in this chapter though...)

*****

The contact with the water as you dive is like the kiss of life, pure air filling your lungs after having struggled to breathe for days; as you swim in your seal-form, the small but powerful fins propelling you forward as the thick fur protects you from the cold, the happiness you feel in your heart is so powerful you find yourself weeping.

You are among your people.

You are back.

You are home.

You have done it!

That instinctive happiness lingers in your heart only for a minute before it is suffocated by pain and guilt; you are mourning for what you have left behind, and terrified to discover what awaits you. 

As you descend towards the abyss, the herd of seals disperses; the Selkie of other tribes bark in farewell and leave to return to their abodes, while your friends follow you towards the territory you were born and lived in. They are happy and relieved to see you home, acting as if your permanence on Land had been a nightmare they have come saving you from, and that now that you are back everything is fine and the whole issue can be forgotten. 

This is all a lie, obviously; but as grateful you are, there will be time to explain the truth, which is much more complicated. Your grandmother needs you now.

A few Selkie swimming or talking in the vicinity greet you as you pass, but you barely notice them, too deep in your thoughts even to reflect on how unfamiliar, even foreign, everything around you looks, as if you had been away for many years instead of just a few months, and this has never been your home.

But it was, obviously; maybe simply it is not anymore. 

You swim to your grandmother’s cave, the same she once shared with your father and where she raised you, but you hesitate a moment before entering, steering yourself for the pain that is going to fill your heart in a moment. She has taken care of you ever since you were a baby, and now you are going to return the favour, and nurse her at the best of your abilities... until she does not need it anymore.

Nothing else matters; not your desires, not even Elendil, who you already miss terribly. Only her. 

You remove her seal-skin -much larger than yours, since they grow in size as their owner ages- from your shoulders, carefully fold it on your arm and step into the cave.

“Greetings, grandmother.” you politely say, as your heartbeat quickens; the Great Father preserve you, how will you explain what has happened to you? What you did, who you met, and the feelings that have taken root in your heart? She loves you and only wants what is best for you, but age has not made her less strict and caustic than she was when you were a little girl; you have never been able to lie to her, and the few times you tried have always ended in tragedy “I... I am sorry I was not here when you needed me...”

You had expected to find her apprentices by her side, or some other member of the tribe tasked with assisting her in her sickness, but the cave is empty save for her; it takes you a moment to realize it was deliberate, because your grandmother wanted to talk to you in private.

She is lying on her bedding, her few belongings tidily piled in a corner, the two halves of the old flute she used to play years ago in her hands. You wonder why she has decided -or rather asked someone- to retrieve it, since the instrument is broken and cannot produce a single note, but you know better than to ask.

She is dying; even if you had not been told, it would take you a moment to realize. She had never been robust, even as a young woman, and her natural resilience, intelligence and strong spirit have made you forget she had already been advanced in years when you were born, and that while she had survived any illness or small incident that had struck her since then, her health had long begun deteriorating. A month ago, you have already been told, a brief but violent plague has struck the tribe; she has survived, unlike five other Selkie, but she is exhausted, her energies depleted, her face emaciated, an unnatural thinness that makes her seem on the verge of disappearing in the water like sea foam.

“Well.” she says in the end regarding you, not unkindly but with such intensity you cannot bear her gaze and lower your eyes, feeling shame even though you have no reason to; her voice is reduced to a whisper, but it has lost nothing of its strenght “You have returned at last, granddaughter.”

*****

If you thought the first days after your arrival on Land seemed to pass more slowly than usual, it is nothing compared to how time seems to linger, even stall, as you assist your grandmother as she writes the last page of the book of her life. 

There is nothing her apprentices can do to help her, which is why you ask them to prepare the simple medicine she needs to take many times a day to ease the pain and another to help her sleep at least a few hours per night, and inform the tribe you will take care of her as long as it is necessary. 

The task is heartbreaking in its simplicity, and the same time harder than anything you have ever done. You have moved your bedding to the cave to sleep by her side, just like when you were a little girl, to be able to assist her whenever she needs it, day and nigh; every day you feed her and care for her hygiene and help her take her medicines, and do your utmost to comfort and entertain her, which is easier said than done, since your grandmother has never cared for small talk and more than once tells you to close your mouth because your nattering has given her a migraine. Some days are better than others, and sometimes the situation changes considerably in a matter of hours, but the path she is walkin on is the one no one, Selkie or Land-person, can ever come back from; every morning you are more and more surprised to see she is still with you. She has been such an important presence in your life, so level-headed and determined and able to command respect with her sole presence, you had unconsciously, naively thought she would live forever, or at least longer than you. The truth is different, and in those days you are forced for the first time to contemplate a future your beloved grandmother is no longer part of.

It is, obviously, much harder for her than for you. Healers are notoriously bad patiens and wards, and your grandmother makes no secret of her impatience; she has always been so busy taking care of the tribe -and of you, ever since your parents were killed- and with her various responsabilities as elder, healer and whatever role needed to be filled, that being confined to bed to rest -or to laze about, in her opinion- is worse a doom than death or captivity; she tries to occupy herself, preparing potions with the ingredients and the tools you have brought her, but she is often too weak to use mortar and pestle, and her hands have started shaking, so much that more than once she inadvertently spills one of her precious herbs, which fills her with frustration as well as shame. Soon, the only thing she can do is rest, lying on her pallet as she stares at the cave’s stone roof, lost in thoughts you cannot even begin to read. She barely eats, often only nibbling at something after you have begged her to, and more than once she falls in a torpor midway between sleep and wakefulness, quietly moaning as her body prepares to yield. 

There is very little you can do to comfort her, since she knows what awaits her and appears to accept it, and she is the sort of person who would interpret affection as pity and reprimand you for it; you do your best to keep her comfortable, and surprisingly she does not criticize you for the manner you keep the cave tidy and serve her food and medicines - not too often, at least. You can see shame on her lined face when she needs you to clean her after she soiled herself, and the frustration when even the lightest tools slip from her fingers and she has to ask you to pick them up. When you try to talk to her to divert her attention from her suffering, questioning her about things you already know or asking for her opinion on the happenings of the tribe, she sighs and tells you that she appreciate the effort, but she really wishes you could leave her alone for a while, and are you not tired of talking incessantly from the moment you awake to when you go to sleep? When she finds out that some of the hunters have come to the cave while she rested asking for her opinion on the planning for the yearly hunting expedition -an extremely important endeavour, aiming to ensure the tribe can set aside enough provisions to last for the upcoming winter, whose time of commencement is traditionally chosen by the elder- but you begged them to decide without her, since today had been particularly tiring for your patient and surely she did not have the necessary energy for a long discussion, your grandmother gets madder than you have ever seen her; she screams that you do not get to treat her as a invalid, you who she has taught everything you know and now, little more than a girl that you are, presume to talk for her and decide how to best care for someone who knows more about healing than you could ever hope to learn. “Leave me alone, with all your nagging! And do not dare start crying now, (name)! I am not dead yet, and I do not require your help to keep living!”

It is harsh, cruel, painful, but you do not take offence; you never could, because you know she is not actually mad at you, rather at herself, and at the helplessness that has reduced her to be cared for after leading a large tribe for so many years. You bite your tongue, bend your head in submission, and think that even this you will miss; her stubborness, her determination not to ask anyone for help, her gruff, blunt nature, that made you so often wonder, during your childhood, whether she really loved, or even just cared for, you or had just taken you with her because no one else would. You did not know yet that there are many different ways to love someone, and that your grandmother would perhaps never compliment or praise you, and would instead be strict, even harsh, as she educated you, but she did it to make sure you kept away from dangers and were able to look after yourself, and would give her life for you without hesitation.

Yes, you think as you keep busy preparing her next meal, that will probably remain untouched like most of those before it, and you pretend not to see that the brief tantrum has left your grandmother spent, and now she is lying sprawled again, struggling to breathe as if she had swum across the whole Sea; you will miss this as well. You will miss all, and her, for the rest of your days.

And then, that very night, after a few hours of sullen silence, your grandmother turns to you, sitting half-asleep against the wall of the cave, and asks: “What is their name?”

*****

In those challenging few weeks, as Númenor feels farther than the other side of the Sea and everything you lived and experienced in those months on Land has been relegated to a corner of your mind by more pressing matters, the one thing you cannot stop thinking about, and that has comforted you during the long, demanding days of caring for your grandmother and to which you have clung as if it were a rock protruding from a cliff, is obviously him.

Elendil. Kind, devout, steadfast, passionate -and how! How could you think you knew what intimacy and pleasure were before meeting him?- Elendil, who you have known only for a few short months but who you are sure is the mate of your soul, the partner the Great Father has created for you, and who no one will ever replace or make you forget. You find comfort in the certainty he is also waiting for you, and that soon, once your grandmother no longer needs you and you have said farewell to your tribe, you will return to him, and no one and nothing will ever separate you ever again. This prospect helps you get through the melancholic fog of your days, and the heartbreak of seeing the person you love most in the world beside him, slowly losing grip on life. 

Has he left for the mission he had told you about, and that he hopes will earn him a promotion to captain? As you said goodbye on the beach, both determined to make your separation as short as possible and still crying inconsolably, neither you nor your lover thought about it, but you are glad he can keep himself busy as you are away, carrying out his duties as you do yours, but at the same time your mind cannot help lingering on the dangers he could meet, especially if the diplomatic efforts to pacify the rebelling lords fail and hostilities break out. You know your lover is strong, a capable warrior despite his young age, but what if he finds himself alone surrounded by many enemies, or someone attacks him from behind, or -which is exactly the sort of thing he would be capable of- he sees a comrade in danger and intervenes to help them, without a thought for his own safety, and...?

Do not think about it. He will be all right. You will both be all right, and soon you will be together again. Hardship and distance will only make your bond stronger and deeper, and when you are finally back in his arms, you will never let him go again...

This is what you keep telling yourself, as you wait on your grandmother, sit quietly by her side ready to intervene if necessary, or stare at the roof of the cave during the night, exhausted and still unable to sleep; you keep your thoughts, your hopes and your aspirations, hidden in the privacy of your heart, not sharing them even with your closest friends, because they would not understand. 

You thought the other Selkie would be curious about the period you have spent in Númenor, both out of worry for you and of genuine curiosity, since none of them, nor their parents or probably any of their acquaintances, has ever seen the Land-world beyond the beaches your dances take place on, or spoken to one of its inhabitants. Since you are the only Selkie to have lived that experiences, you expected them to assail you with questions, about the customs and traditions of the Land-people, their cities, their culture; in their place, you would probably follow the poor soul around, begging them to tell you everything.

Instead, no one asks you anything. In fact, no one seems particularly interested in the matter.

At first you think it is because you are busy caring with your grandmother, and your friends do not want to bother you with useless chatter and distract you from the important tasks you are carrying out. While you appreciate the thought, you would actually be happy to talk about your visit to the city of Men, of the discoveries you have made and the people you have met; it would help you feel less lonely, and think about something other than the imminent loss of your grandmother for a change. But when you spontaneously tell the friends who visit you to inquire about your grandmother’s health and ask whether you need help, about your job at the stables or how enjoyable it was to dance with Elendil during the city festivals, you are met not with the curiosity and interest you expected, but mostly with an uncomfortable silence and the evident desire to change subject. 

The Selkie of your tribe do not want to know about your stay in Númenor - they actively do not. They are overjoyed to have you home, and upset at the thought of all the dangers and the hardships you must have encountered, but when you tell them that yes, the first weeks on Land were the worst of your life and you cried yourself to sleep more often than not, but you also discovered so many new things, and found a way to be happy, and to have fun, and to fill your days with good things, their reaction is mostly of incredulity, and even reprobation for what they consider a betrayal of your kind. The Land-people have enthralled her, poor (name), they whisper among themselves, they have made her forget her past, and turned her into one of them. Do you remember the man we saw her kiss on the beach? He probably cast a spell on her to make her fall in love, or forced her to concede her favours in exchange for help and protection...

This could not be further from the truth, but your friends do not want to hear that; the fact that among despair and loneliness you found enjoyement in the world of Land-people is for them unacceptable, even blasphemy, because how could something positive, let alone pleasurable, exist in a place that is the source and the heart of all evil?

They are wrong, of course; but how can you blame them, when until you lost your seal-skin and were as a consequence forced to live among those you considered your enemies, you were of the very same mind?

You have told no one you are determined to return on Land after your grandmother will have passed away; they will not understand, they will not accept it, and will probably do everything they can to stop you. No, you better keep that to yourself, and then steal away in the middle of the night.

You have hidden your secret in the depth of your heart, of that you are sure, and no one in the tribe has any feeling that you plan to leave again, this time out out of your own free will. It will pain you to leave without saying farewell, but you cannot risk anyone trying to stop you...

*****

"Well then? Have you not heard what I have said, granddaughter?"

You have, since you are just a couple of fathoms from her, but her question caught you so unprepared, you cannot even begin to articulate an answer.

"W-what?" you splutter in the end. "Whose name?"

"Of the person you have met while you lived in the world of the Land-people, and who you probably have never stopped thinking about ever since you returned. So, out with it: who are they, and what exactly has happened between the two of you?"

"I... I... W-well, the truth is..."

Your grandmother stares at you, unmoving, unflinching, as you desperately search for something to say. She has spent the last hours napping, but the rest has not restored her strenght - nothing will, at this point. Her sunken face, her protruding cheekbones, speak of the shadow of death getting closer by the hour. But she is still alive, and she knows you better that anyone, and while someone else might have told her they have seen you kissing a Land-man on the beach -she has received very few visitors after your return, and had someone gossiped you should have heard since you have never left her side, but it is not impossible- you feel, you know for certain, that the truth is different... That even weakened and pained as she is, she has simply and easily read in your heart, not unlike how you have learned to do on the scrolls of the library of Armenelos. You should not be surprised; after all, who has ever known you better than her?

Apart from Elendil, obviously.

With a sigh, you swim to her, sitting next to her bedding. "His name Is Elendil." you quietly reveal, and despite a vague embarassment -and who would not feel uncomfortable, discussing about a lover with their own grandmother?- you feel suddenly happy, because how could you not be, when talking about the man you love, and who has been the only source of happiness in those long, melancholic weeks? "I met him on the morning after our dance. He found me as I wandered on the beach, and he offered me his help."

"Does he know what you are?"

"He does. He has hosted me in his home, and did everything he could to help me retrieve my seal-skin; and he never asked for anything in return, save friendship. I really do not know what would have become of me had I not met him; he is kind, clever, honourable..."

She does not react as you sing Elendil's praises. "Are the two of you lovers?" she inquires again.

"Grandmother..."

"Answer me."

You admit that yes, between you and Elendil there is something much deeper and more intense than simple friendship. "He has never forced me to do anything; quite the opposite, he was reticent about confessing his feelings, fearing I could consider myself compelled to accept them given everything he had done for me." you explain; your grandmother suddenly looks very pale, after the simple effort of your conversation, and you help her lie on her bedding, mentally counting the meals she has left untouched in the last days. You hesitate, fearing her reaction, and then decide you might as well be sincere "Just before I heard the Call, we... we plighted our troth to each other."

You close your eyes, waiting for the outburst of rage and reproach you know you will receive, but your grandmother remains silent, and not only because she is too weak to scold you as she did when you were a girl, guilty of some innocent mischief. She simply looks at you, her eyes the same colour as yours and that the imminent death has not made less penetrant.

"You love him." she simply says.

"I do. And he loves me. His intentions are serious, and he treats me very well; I wish you could meet him, I am sure you would approve of him."

You receive no answer; she is still looking at you, pensive, not affectionate but somehow sympathetic.

"I am sorry if this... displeases you..." 

"It does not." she assures you, her voice reduced to a pained whisper; you could swear she is forcing her body to keep going, ordering her heart to beat only for a few more hours, until she has done everything she has to "Nor it surprises me, after all. I have always felt in my heart that your path would lead you away from the tribe; away from our whole kind, even. Your destiny has always been different from that of most Selkie, ever since you were young."

You bite your lip. "Is it... a good thing?"

"It is not good as such, nor bad. It simply is, like most things under the sun."

Silence falls in the cave. Your grandmother tries to move to lie on her back, but a moan stops her, and you have to give her another dose of her medicine to help her with the pain. You wait for a while, averting your eyes since you know she dislikes being looked at as she suffers, and when you hear she is breathing easily once more, you conclude: "Once you do not need me anymore, I will return to him, and live the rest of my life on Land by Elendil's side."

Silence.

"Grandmother?" you dare calling.

"I heard you."

"I will never tell anyone what I am, I promise." you hurry to add; anything to fill that uncomfortable, tense silence “And it is not because I dislike being a Selkie, or that I am not grateful for what the tribe has done for me..."

"(name)." she stops you, sighing tiredly. She is tired, you reflect as you silently wait for her to continue; tired of your discussion, but also tired to have to be the strong and wise and level-headed person as those around her let their feelings guide them, tired to be depended on for every little thing, and to be asked for permission, approval or advice by so many others. She is tired of life, and she deserves to rest... even though it will break your heart. "It is your life. You can do whatever you want with it."

"But you are my grandmother; and our elder. Should I not ask for your opinion, and your blessing?"

"You are welcome to. But this is a matter that only concerns you, not the tribe and undoubtedly not me, and no law can dictate who you can love and pledge yourself to; as an adult, being free to choose how to live your life is a responsability as well as a freedom. For all it is worth, I hope you will be happy with your mate. But now let me rest, please; I... I need it."

There is so much you wish you could tell her. Thank you for taking care of me all these years is the most important, and forgive me for all the times I disappointed you, and misbehaved, and made you worry. You could say that, but it would be useless, because she is not the sort of person who appreciates apologies, as sincere as they could be, and she is already aware of your gratitude and affection so why waste your breath?

So "May I lie next to you?" you quietly ask, and the answer you receive is a chuckle.

"Be my guest."

The bedding is too small for two, but you do not mind. You snuggle close to her body, just like you did when you were young and shared her cave, and she rests an arm on your hip in a loose hug. Your gaze reflects hers; neither of you smiles, but contentment surrounds you like a bubble, excluding and hushing the rest of the world.

You fall asleep first.

*****

The preparations for your grandmother's funeral begin early on the next morning, and the brief ceremony takes place as the last rays of the sun dance on the surface of the Sea. The whole tribe assembles around the cave, holding hands and intoning a mourning chant, saying farewell to their elder and asking the Great Father to welcome her soul in His world, beyond pain and grief.

It is a touching ceremony, and you, as the departed's only blood relative, order yourself to mantain your composure, even though singing has never been your best talent and you cannot help wondering whether you will ever see your grandmother again. Elendil told you that Land-people do not know exactly what becomes of them after they pass, and even though you suspect the Great Father, who created your kind and that all Selkie revere, is the same entity they adore as Ulmo, Lord of the Waters -but why? Does it mean your two people were once one, and then parted and lost memory of their common origins? Or did one of the two teach the other?- that does not necessarily mean his kind and yours are destined to the same doom. And what about you, a Selkie who is renouncing her very nature to live among Land-people? Will you still go to Selkie’s afterlife, or the one reserved to Men? Will you still be with Elendil after both of you pass, or will you be reunited with your parents and grandmother? Either way you will have to say farewell forever to someone you love, which means no life after death will ever make you truly and fully happy...

Which is probably what you deserve and nothing better, you reflect as you do your utmost to hit the right note as the mouning song reaches its climax, since you are selfishly doing what you want, and it is fitting that you alone pay the price.

At the end of the song you leave the hemycicle to enter the cave and carry your grandmother’s lifeless body out; it is tiny and light as a gull's feather, as if death rather than illness and age had freed her from a load she had carried all her life. She does not seem happy, or smiling, like it is said sometimes happens after the passing, but she is now beyond pain and care, and this is enough; it must be. 

You delicately depose the body on the seabed, and after a few minutes of silent vigil, the Great Father’s envoy appears. It is a blue whale, one of the largest that inhabit the Sea, swimming gracefully despite its huge bulk as she reaches you, opens her jaws and gently takes your grandmother’s mortal remains in her mouth, to take them to the deepest abyss where your creator resides.

"Go-thou, Great Sister." you formally dismiss her, as the whole tribe stands in silent vigil behind you. It is the first time you lead a funeral ceremony, and you hope your grandmother would be proud of the way you are comporting yourself "And carry our sister to the arms of the Great Father."

As the whale swims away, you know she is carrying with her a piece of your heart.

The ceremony has ended; the rest of the tribe disperses after offering you their condolences and their help for whatever you may need. The Sea is troubled, you perceive as you slowly, tiredly swim towards the cave you have never slept in ever since you returned, a sign of an oncoming storm; but no squall or billow can equate the despair wreaking havoc inside you.

Now more than ever you need Elendil and wish he were by your side, but even though you know he is also thinking about you, awaiting the moment you will finally be reunited, your lover is so far, too far for you to be comforted by the memory of the happy days you have spent together, and by the promise of a bright, loving future.

Oh, grandmother. I miss you already. How will I go on without you?

You know you will, because you are no longer the young, helpless child who had lost her parents, and you know everything you need to go on in life; but that does not help either. Reaching your cave, you lie on your bedding and cry until sleep takes you.

TAGGING @starlady66​ and @elvenenby​. Thank you so much!!

[chimeraan]

Divinity Original Sin 2 Review

Whilst I think this is a really well-made game (with a lot of cool lore and fun characters), I think this has way too many short comings as an RPG to recommend for three big reasons (bear in mind this is a long game, and I don't even think I'm halfway even with the amount of hours spent playing). I'm judging all this based on how DOS2 plays as a player choice driven RPG, I have gameplay criticisms as well but just know that a big reason I'm not too fussed is because of the lack of player freedom (Spoilers ahead but nothing too spoilery and I'll occasionally miss out words I'm sorry my mind goes too fast for hands).

1. Player Choice

So, I'll just give one significant quest as an example, one of the big missions you're given in the game is to get Source Points (which is a tangible gameplay reward and they're great and rare to get) from a sourcemaster. The way they did this is pretty cool because you need to actually go out and seek information on where to find these source masters are hiding (since they are currently being witch huntered) which is great since they're not just handing you a list straight away and even when you get to the source masters there's usually a horrible and ethically dubious cost to getting a source point which I love and I love how the game is willing to go there and make the player ask difficult ethical questions.

One of these is for a Lizard Source master named Hanag and she asks for her to teach you source that you need to save her apprentice Gwydian from the Blackpits (a coal mining town). Sweet, love saving apprentices. So, I get there, and the Magisters (the witch/source hunting religious faction) has burnt the whole town down looking for this apprentice and is in the middle of summarily executing the Crossleys (a family of miners who have been helping Gwydian hide from the magisters). They've already executed their youngest son, which is great because once again the game isn't afraid to go there.

You beat the magisters (it’s a fun fight) and then you're left with this weeping family who are completely town apart by the fact they just witnessed their youngest being killed in front of them. Now throughout the game you might die yourself from time to time and you're given resurrection scrolls to counter this. Up until this point my thoughts on this mechanic were "Okay this is a gameplay concession to the player and the most likely reason that I can't randomly res any old body I find is because its either been too long since they’ve died or they're an enemy" as a result I didn't use any of the scrolls in my run since it didn't make a tonne of sense to me and I felt it was too immersion breaking to use (or even just too exploitative).

This kid just died moments ago and I cannot resurrect them.

Maybe there is a gameplay reason why you can't do this, but it just felt sour to me that the solution to this grieving families' problem is sold in the shops for like 76 gold and it just doesn't work.

So okay, that's fine but I am the Godwoken, a special character who can commune with the dead with a spell, so I'll just use my spell and tell them little jimmy is in a better place and that he loves them. Giving the closure the family so sorely needs right now. I do this spell and all I'm rewarded with is talking to the magister executioner who just killed the kid and all he has to say is "Ha justice is served fucker" and that's it. In a way I almost respect this cause its like a cruel joke but man come on, at least let me talk to the kid.

So....not great on the dead child front.

Then I go to get Gwydian. Which is actually a very fun encounter since they give you a unique way of interacting with the magister who has tied him up wich allows you to distract him whilst Gwydian unties himself. I save his toasty ass (in a good but also not good fight I’ll get to in a moment) and tell him about the Crossleys situation. After, when I find him reunited with the Crossleys the line read where he's grieving for this kid is just laughably bad, like he sounds really disingenuous when he says he’s sorry like he must have actually hated that kid. Then my character asks him "Hey what are your plans now?" and he says "Well I don't know where Hanag, my master is, so I'll just find refuge somewhere in the world” and then he leaves and no matter how many times you click on him to tell him "Hey your master is actually the one who sent me she's in the Cloisterwood!!!" you will not be able to talk to him again.

At first, I thought this was a glitch since I hadn't talked to him with the character who accepted Hanag's quest, which is stupid but they must have thought that option through right? I do the entire battle encounter again (which is a long encounter btw and your fun little sidekick Sir Lora can easily be killed in the fire if you're not careful so it’s actually quite challenging to keep Sir Lora and Gwydian alive) and go up with my character and low and behold I cannot tell him the obvious solution to both his problem with finding sanctuary (since the Cloisterwood is guarded by two Trolls who demand payment to enter which the magisters will not pay to cross the bridge because they're dicks) and finding his master.

Honestly, I don't have the unreasonable expectation that game designers cover for every solution the player thinks of (its obviously impossible) but this is such a basic part of storytelling (not even game design) that my character would have the option to tell him where Hanag is that I was both pissed and shocked they didn't account for it. What annoys me even more is that I must go tell Hanag that I saved him when I can't provide any evidence that I did or not and then she's just like yeah that's great. So ultimately, my character could have just not done what she asked and just said I did and that would be the end of it.

What annoys me even further is that they didn't even need to get the actor to say new voicelines, say you tell him where Hanag is and then you go to the Cloisterwood and he's been killed by one of the trolls for not paying the troll toll. Which would be in character because during the fight where you rescue him, he actually uses Rogue/Scoundrel abilities.

If they wanted to take that even further, it would be a cool moment where on a repeat play through or if you just decided to anyway you could kill the trolls beforehand and that would save Gwydian. Which would be a cool choice because essentially the trolls are protecting the forest from magisters AND voidwoken (the existential threat of the game). Since the trolls are just that tough, plus there are bodies of voidwoken all over the bridges they guard (i love that its great) and you don't find any voidwoken in the forest as a result (even the crazy witch there knows to pay the troll toll). Even the toll the one asks you to pay is a pittance so overall the trolls are great to have there (and are probably a really tough fight). As a player you'd be able to decide whether "Hey is this even a good idea to save his ass since has serious implications on this part of the world?" or just not tell him where Hanag is.

That's basically fan fiction at that point but it’s kind of depth I want from a game like this and I'm just not getting it. Even though there are some really great moral choices in the game it ultimately feels like the basic form of a D&D quest without any of the nuance the DM could bring to the table to give the player more options to tackle encounters. This is also a pretty big quest honestly so it’s doubly surprised they didn't add on any of these options and it makes each quest or action in the world feel really self-contained sadly. It also makes me anxious to even try and engage with quests since I feel like the game will not give me any of the obvious solutions to certain problems.

2. Gameplay

Overall, I think combat is where this game shines and its quite fun and you have a staggering amount of options in fights which is great. The terrain based mechanics of combat means you'll always be looking for ways you can exploit the natural terrain by having your archer or mage use high ground to get a % boost on attacks. You'll also be looking at ways you can manipulate substances on the terrain to use to your advantage like using the 'wet' status effect where enemies are standing to chain lightning attacks. While it can be a save scum fest if you're like me and you don't feel complete until you have perfectly set up a party for the maximum damage/tactics (like some kind of time travelling Sun Tzu). It is an incredibly and engaging rpg battle system.

Ultimately, the combat feels divorced from the story and the player's role playing actions. Where either ideas are communicated poorly in combat or the player will make role playing decisions in combat that don't mean anything since the combat and role playing are separated.

For example that fight for Gwydian's life is kind of cool since as soon as you release him a fight breaks out and since he's a sourcerer it attracts voidwoken and you're on top of a tall tower and need to defend it (and Gwydian) from the voidwoken. The voidwoken attracted are these oily guys who are clearly very weak to fire attacks. So, you use fire attacks and since they spread oil everywhere this covers everything in fire and also seems to summon the fiery versions of these oily guys. I thought "Oh cool, if I had approached this fight another way, I wouldn't have used fire and wouldn’t have summoned the fiery guys". That is not the case, on my second go round, I killed the oily dudes without using fire (which took forever) and the fiery dudes still spawned exactly where they spawned the last time.

The actual challenge is crowd control since you need to stop the oily guys from spreading oil everywhere before the fire guys get there and light the oil. This is ultimately fine as well but the thing is that the way the fiery guys spawned should have been communicated differently since they spawn on the ground (where the oily guys spawn from the start) and it’s really easy to interpret their arrival as being attracted by the fire you've just created.

I found a lot of times through the game combat and my actions just were not translated properly, like there are 'possessed' people in fights who are clearly being controlled by the other enemies near to them. Now, you'd think, once you had killed the enemies who are controlling them that the possession would stop and they'd just be normal people. Once again, not the case they'll still attack you after you kill those enemies and they cant be cured so they're just mobs with a fun status effect essentially. They also don't account for you doing things before characters expect you to, so for example I wanted to recruit Sebille and she's like cool you've recruited me now I want to kill this guy called Griff. Well I've already killed Griff...so I'll just tell her and you just can't tell her, all you can do is show her Griff's body. Of course I've also mentioned the resurrection scrolls which are just a frustrating item to see in the game since even if you could make an excuse like "Oh only the Godwoken can be ressed!" that doesn't explain why they're being sold in shops everywhere and on random paladins if only a specific four party group of people can use them.

I’m still having a lot of fun in the combat and for that alone I wish steam would give you a "Mixed thoughts" option. It’s genuinely a lot of fun and I appreciate the amount of depth and strategy to encounters.

3. World Traversal and Level Design

So, this game does the most knee-cappping I've seen any game do for its encounters and level design I have seen in a good while. When you leave fort joy you're given these teleportation stone things which your party can use to teleport to each other. You can access them straight from your inventory and teleports your entire party from one pyramid to the other. Seems like a cute mechanic for making your own fast travel location, right? Well that's what I thought until I discovered that all it takes to use them is for a member of the party to carry one and then the rest of your four person party can use the other one to teleport straight to them.

Teleportation is overall a really cool ability and I love that you can just learn a spell or even get a piece of armour from TELEPORTING CROCODILES to use to move around levels pretty freely or even Teleport enemies.

However, these teleportation pyramids just trivialise the sense of traversal and by extension the level design. Come across a locked gate to a cemetery that you can't just lock pick? Ooh this is a cool encounter, how about I teleport (using the spell) the parties' resident rogue through the gates so they can go steal the key to let the rest of the party in?? Oh wait, I can just....teleport the rest of the party in using the pyramids. Which is just how all traversal goes from that point and they want you to use these pyramids since they value them at nothing at shops (which is stupid, these things are revolutionary for travel assuming the waypoint system is just a player concession for fast travel. That fucking pilgrimage to Arx? Dont WARRRY ABOUT IT, its fuckin done lady just take the teleport pyramid and bada boom, youre at fantasy Jerusalem baby) and there are actual areas where you will need to use them to traverse.

Sadly, I discovered this feature on one of the coolest levels of this game. Your party is attacked by spider voidwoken and tangled up in webs during one escapade. This leads to the entire party being broken up and are each placed in separate situations in this huge cave system and you have navigate each member separately so they can find one another. It's even cooler though because whichever main character you chose will be in the hardest, darkest and scariest part of the cave. So it becomes a whole situation where you should get your entire party to your main character to get them out. I love how this setup even punishes the player for giving all their best gear to their main guy. It's great...

...

..

...

OR WOULD BE IF YOU COULDNT JUST TELEPORT THEM TO EACH OTHER!!!

I earnestly regret testing the game devs on this. Everytime I'm put into any tricky situation by game developers whwre im trapped or a central mechanic is stripped from my character my first thought is "Oh I wonder what devious reason the devs have cooked up so they won't let me do the obvious thing I could in this situation. Ooooh I can't wait to see how they tell me I'm fucked!!" I tried in earnest to use the teleporter....and to quote Todd-Senpai.....it just worked. My main character just teleported to my healer who was holding the other pyramid. But it doesn't stop there. For some god forsaken reason, they allow you to transfer items between inventories even though the party are separated by geography. Within five minutes, this entire cool encounter was trivialised as I could give each of my party members the pyramid and just teleport them to each other. The cool set up was over in five minutes. Did whoever made these pyramids hate the level designers???

It's even sadder because the way they managed loot in this part meant that my mage found a really cool and strong bow but obviously couldn't use it. The fun behind finding something like that is the anticipation of her meeting up with my archer and giving it to them. But there was no anticipation.

Now, I think there's a bit of a myth around ideas like 'Path of Least Resistance' because its been used in recent years by dudes who claim easy modes shouldn't be put into games because they will just not be able to help themselves apparently (clearly hard games arent for them then). You can self-enforce challenges upon yourself and I'm sure there are mods where you can delete the pyramids or even difficulty settings. However, I was an innocent babe coming into this game and I had no idea about these pyramids and their strength and because of that a really fantastic encounter was ruined for me. Yes, I could have gone through without using the pyramids but I love role playing in role playing games (insane right??). Why would my character not use this and exploit it in the same situation?? The part of the fun of an encounter like this is that you get play and also imagine your party taking on this challenge as you are taking it on and that is completely ruined once you figure out you have this ability. I wish I played that level with whatever mod or difficulty setting there was to make sure those pyramids don't work there but for now it's ruined for me.

(However, from what I can understand that might not even be possible since they seem to have made a lot of the level design with the knowledge that you'd have thse pyramids)

I can't emphasise enough that that just leads to a situation where you can load a bunch of traversal abilities onto one character and then just have them use this overpowered item to teleport the rest of the party to where they are once they've traversed an area. Even if you wanted to keep the pyramids there's like a clear way to nerf them and that's to only allow the character that has the other pyramid in their inventory to use it so it still becomes a challenge to either use only two characters or finding a way to get the rest of the party to your location via an alternative route. Even if that means just finding a waypoint. You can even find more of these things as a reward for big quests and its like why?? What is this for if I can already teleport the rest of my party to one of these things and there are waypoints all over the map??? I just don't understand why they would do this.

4. Secret Fourth thing

Lastly the game has fun little add-ons called "Gift Bag Features" which either do game breaking things like give you extra merchants with great weapons and armor or just quality of life improvements like sorting your inventory or making your party walk faster and some of these features are even baked into the game at this point. This is great but....it turns your ability to get steam achievements off if you turn them on...even the QOL ones.

I cannot emphasise how stupid this is. Look I've gotten every achievement in Bloodborne and Sekiro and beaten DMC and DMC 5 on the hardest difficulties whilst trying to S rank them ykow whatever who cares? I cannot emphasise enough that if they added an easy mode to any of these games or a way to get every achievement from just playing them through in normal mode I would not care. In fact, I'd think it would be great for kids who want to play or people who are just kind of bad at games.

You're an idiot if you care about that kind of thing and Larian Studios are ridiculous for keeping "Gift Bag Features" locked behind getting no achievements. I imagine a response to that would be "Oh if you don't care then its not an issue" but the reality is that achievements are used these days to mark and communicate to the player when they've done something significant which is invaluable for assisting the player in recognising the effects they've had on the game world and how far they are through the game itself. The fact that something as simple "Fast walking speed in a game that consists of mostly walking" is locked behind this is ridiculous.

Purely just infuriatingly stupid.

Overall, I like a lot of the character writing, voice acting and even the setting of this game. Any game that has the nerve to kill kids, begs the player to answer cruel and even complex questions about ethics, make the lizard race the in-universe sexiest race, has TELEPORTING CROCODILES and a Squirrel knight who rides a dead cat deserves recognition. I think there's a lot of good here, but it just falls apart at the actual role-playing elements and encounter design, seemingly focusing all its attention on the combat. Which is weird from a company that so clearly has D&D in its blood. Like I can just play Final Fantasy Tactics if I wanted a pure RPG tactics game with only light roleplaying elements. Role playing is what this game needs to set it apart from other games in this same genre. I would have rather a worse combat system if it meant the traversal and role playing was fixed. Cool Squirrell though.

[aelloposchrysopterus]

Graduation Party

You are eighteen and you are about to see the world. Your mother has asked me to come to your farewell party. She cannot bring herself to say the word she really means when she says that this is a goodbye, but you are too blind to notice. You are full of youthful vigor and think that everything will turn out fine in the end. Your mother and I have lived too long to believe that, but she is letting you go anyhow. She knows she cannot stop you. She can only hope that you will listen to me.

You have always loved me in a familial but peculiar way. Your mother does not know why. You rarely saw me when you were a child, unlike the rest of the family, but you are attached to me in a way she is blind to. She never felt the same urge we do. From the moment I met you, I knew your fate. I think she knew it then too, though she refused to acknowledge it until you told her what you were going to do.

You don’t know what she’s doing, do you? You do not know why she cries by the weeping willow. You see a mother who does not want to let her eldest, her first pride and joy, go. You think that she is too protective, too strict. As I watch you look at her, I see the disdain and the scorn and I can almost hear you saying to your friends Look, see how pathetic my mother is, but those are words you would never say. You still respect her too much for that.

But there is so much that you do not know. You are eighteen and you think you are ready to take on the world. Your mandatory education has been completed and you are confident that that is enough. Plenty do not attain more. You respect those who go further, but do not wish to do the same. Instead, you intend to embark upon a different kind of voyage, one that will give you adrenaline highs instead of adrenaline nausea alone.

Your mother has asked me here, not because I am in her good graces (I am not, as you have likely realized by now), but because she thinks I may be able to keep you safe. She does not want to accept what I know, that there is no keeping you safe from your fate. Perhaps there was a time, long ago, when your fate was malleable, but you have chosen this path and there is no turning back now. I will honor your mother’s request, so I have brought you gifts.

I have brought you a losable heirloom. It is a rigging knife that was mine once, and my father’s before me. The blade is dull, but it can still cut rope. It cannot cut flesh: I would not want to give you a weapon that can. I know the mania that the curse we share inflicts. There is a marlinspike on it that has never been used for its true use. I will not tell you how it has been used.

I have brought you a useless tool. It is an astrolabe that I found in the markets. There was an old man who still made them. I bought one for myself and one for you. I know that you will look at it and wonder what the use of it is in this modern era, but you will pack it anyhow. It may save you some day, like my first one saved me. I have had seven since then, all lost to the sea in exchange for my life. I hope you can make the same bargain.

I have brought you unadorned jewelry. It is a steel bangle that was bought in a bazaar far away and long ago. You may make it there some day. It is nothing like the jewels your mother wears and I know your friends will make fun of it, but this bangle may keep you alive. The woman I bought it from told me that it represents the totality of God, an idea I know you believe in (your mother has told me all your religious stances), and it is part of how her people identify each other. They are a kind folk, dedicated to serving others as a way to serve God, and are quick to protect those in need.

I hand you these gifts and you take them even as I know that this will not be enough. It never was going to be enough, but at least it is something. This is your journey and I can only push you on your way. Your survival is up to you and your actions alone. You think that this is an easy task; you have always been agile and quick-witted, talking yourself out of situations. You pride yourself on being observant.

You do not notice the way people tell you goodbye; you do not notice that they say adieu. You believe they are just being fancy for a party like this. If you had paid more attention to your French teacher, you would understand what they mean. You think the tears in your friends’ eyes are because of their sorrow at not joining you. You think your siblings are sulking because this day is for you and not for them. You think that I am here because I was always your favorite member of the extended family.

There is much you do not see. You do not see the coffin your eldest cousin wrought from a beech tree hewn from the banks of the river that winds through your backyard. You do not see your fate thread hanging on the memorial and you do not see how short it is. You do not see that we are mourning you before you leave. You do not see that this was never a party.

This is your funeral.

[drunktuesdays]

I posted 1,990 times in 2022

That's 985 more posts than 2021!

254 posts created (13%)

1,736 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theroseandthebeast

@orange-catsidy

@thevaudevillescene

@kissing-monsters

@dykecassidy

I tagged 1,885 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#wrestling - 666 posts

#i know that's right - 110 posts

#asks - 61 posts

#matt jackson - 60 posts

#i know that’s right - 56 posts

#correct - 37 posts

#my work - 30 posts

#that's right - 26 posts

#dustin - 26 posts

#alpha4alpha - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and buck's so stressed and urgent about being like i don't want to test my couch out. i know what i want. i just want the couch to want me

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

unfortunately real shit

334 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#4

THE MEDICINE IS NOT WORKING BUT I AM STILL HERE.

395 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

#3

Why I Am Not Coming Into Work Today

Dear employers,

I will have to take the day off today because:

☐ It’s December and the streets are papier-mached with wet bronze leaves and it’s so dark outside that the cars have their headlights on at 3pm

☐ I have recently been through a breakup, or I have been through a breakup at any time in my life really, and I woke up today with the absolute conviction that I will never be loved again

☐ A dog looked at me

☐ I got a text from someone for whom I feel a mix of concern and frustration and recognition and longing that is both more and less than romance

☐ Someone made a joke about dead pets meeting you in heaven

☐ Daylight savings time

☐ I passed a knot of flowers that were so bright they glowed through the dim grey water of the day and when was anything in my life last that luminous?

☐ Girls are too pretty

☐ For the first time I genuinely comprehend that there is not enough time to have all the lives I wanted

☐ I accidentally listened to Leonard Cohen

-"Why I Am Not Coming Into Work Today" by Jess Zimmerman

597 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

#2

i love when fanfictions make men cry. it's like, one of the most important things anyone's ever doing. i'm currently reading a fic where the on-screen men are either fucking or they're absolutely weeping. just sobbing their stupid brains out. i'm scrolling through it SO happily like, thank u. thank you for your hard work, author. people might not like to admit it but this is peak performance. if men aren't sucking, fucking, or sobbing then i don't even wanna see it. dry eyes? dry pussy

834 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.

3,899 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →