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#i went to tHe mOON

thoughtfulfuri replied to your photoset: HOW DID I MISS THIS THE FIRST TIME?? WAS I TOO IN…

Jdldk jzxb “She knows what it is to be a part of the story” god yes. And what all the pieces of truth in their shattered state fail to convey about the truth as a whole or the deeper truths. It makes me think about adaptations that manage to look like the stories they tell while fundamentally misconstruing the *message* intended by the original story. Fails the spirit of it even while some technical similarities remain…. not sure my point there but it made me think of that nonetheless

Exactly! Every time you tell a story, the message is different, the themes are different, and that’s what I love about stories, is they can be bent like jeweler’s wire in your hands, twisted to make them new things. I love that all of these are true but not the same, and that they take different points. All of those stories would mean something different about Utena, about what happened. 

I know you’re saying that a story can fail to reflect the truth, but I would posit that it reflects different truths. All of those stories we heard about the prince were true, but they all reflected the truths of the teller and the listener, and that’s what I think is so fucking intersting about stories and I love that subtle inclusion here. 

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30 + Pelle? Feel like even if he wasn't in a cult, he'd be that type of romantic

[30. Kiss under a full moon] + 38 because i misread the request and already plotted it out + Pelle x Reader

Just because he wasn’t 18 (even though he would be in only a year), not yet on his pilgrimage, that didn’t mean Pelle never went outside his village.

He was not only strong, but sociable, and was often chosen to accompany elders and workers outside when they needed to trade or purchase those rare materials they couldn’t provide for themselves.

He stood, leaning patiently against the truck as Ivar paid for the refill of gas inside the station. The night had already fallen and after a day of driving around doing errand they decided to stop at the small station to refuel the tank before going back home. His eyes drifted around the snowy lot, his breath coming out in cloudy puffs as he bounced his leg in an effort to get a bit warmer. He was still young and stubborn, and hadn’t listened to the matriarch when she insisted he wear a warmer coat. The mistakes of youth one has to make to learn to listen to those older and wiser.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when something was thrust in front of his face from nowhere.


He recognized the English, though he wasn’t fluent yet, and look down at the owner of the gloves hands holding out a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

He wished he’d brought his sketchbook, the sight of you under the moonlight, staring up at the lanky stranger with a friendly smile and kindness in your heart.

It was love at first sight.

“Thank you.” He stuttered out, accent think and strong as he trying to keep his teeth chattering to a minimum. “What is… your name?” You replied and it sounded like music to his ears. [Y/N]. he would commit it to memory - it was already etched onto his heart. “A beautiful name, for a beautiful person.” He complimented, smiling in delight as you ducked your head and muttered your thanks. Reaching out, he cupped your chin and lifted your gaze back to him. He’d always been told he had a face you couldn’t help but trust, maybe that was why you didn’t back away as he slowly lowered his face to yours. “May I?”

After a moment, you nodded, like you were under a trance, and he pressed his lips so gently to yours, so careful as if he were worshiping you.

The kiss was broken from someone calling for you. You flinched like a startled rabbit, opening and closing your mouth to say something but instead settling on scurrying away to your guardian. Pelle’s own companion came from the store, watching the car you hopped into drive away. “Who was that?” He asked the young boy as they hopped into the two person truck, the older man warming his hands by the heart as Pelle sunk contently into the seat, warmed up enough already. After answering with bliss on his tongue, Ivar chuckled teasingly. “I didn’t see you exchange numbers. How will you find them again?”

Pelle stared out the window, staring up at the moon. “It will be fate.”

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continued from here with @redeivampirii


     From the day she met Edward, she never questioned that he was the same Edward who’s name was written on her wrist, the pull toward him too instant. It was that very draw that made her sure he was her soul mate, whoever Arro was didn’t matter to her at the time. What did mattered was Edward, not just his love for her but the life that came with loving him. Bella never felt like she fit in anywhere, like she was too much a freak to really belong anywhere. But then, surrounded by vampires, she felt the most at peace she ever had.

     When Edward left her however, that entire world left with him. Her sense of feeling normal, her sense of belonging, her sense of self-all gone. It wasn’t even so much his loss she had mourned, but who she was in his world. She became a shell of who the girl she had become, a withered husk without life inside of her. She was just a freak among normal people again.She was desperate for that feeling again, the high it gave her to feel like all her puzzle pieces were fitting together. That was why she had jumped at the chance to go and find Edward again after his sister had showed up to warn her of his impending doom.

     Everything between Alice coming to get her and jumping into Edward’s arms was a blur, feeling like she was more embracing herself than she was him. The moment of bliss was short lived though, the two of them soon being taken to who she assumed were The Vampire Council. When she heard the name Arro fall from Edward’s lips she felt her stomach drop, glancing down at her wrist with who she believed to be her enemy’s name on it. She didn’t want to make things worse, so she had tugged her sleeves down to hide the names there, as if it might help somehow.

     The moment she was in the room with the council, something shifted. The man in the middle caught her attention immediately, and somehow she knew the shift in her world was hanging from an axis below his very feet. As the conversation went on, she was made sure he was the Arro her wrist referred to, the flesh almost itching to be noticed. Everything else after that had been another blur, just like the trip there. Until suddenly Edward was in danger and her belonging was in danger right alongside him.

     She didn’t realize she was screaming until her throat hurt, didn’t realize she was offering herself up until it was already out of her mouth. What point was there in existing in a world she didn’t really belong to? She looked up at Arro as he came closer to her, reaching out for her hands. She didn’t have time to pull them back before he took them in his own, a chill running down her spine that had nothing to do with his icy skin. His gaze bore into her even more heavily than Edward’s often did, she could feel the weight of it on her and it was crushing-but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

     She saw it the moment he noticed his name on her wrist, the moment everything seemed to change. Shit. Had she just doomed she and Edward both to death? She wondered briefly if her name was on his wrist as well, though she knew the answer to that already. But what scared her was she wasn’t so sure of what she had been sure of on her first day at Forks High School-she wasn’t sure which name was which.

     “That’s one way of putting it,” she said, in response to him calling her interesting, her eyes glancing down at his covered wrist again before looking up at his face. Those eyes. Her chest felt heavy again. “You couldn’t see anything, could you?” she asked, hesitantly. She thought if anyone could see beyond the wall in her head it would be someone like him, someone with such age and power. Perhaps even in the vampire world, she was nothing but a freak of nature. 

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[ patch them up ; @regancrested​ ]


      you need to be more careful. she knows that he knows. she’s not his professor and the lecture isn’t necessary, he’s fought in this war for five years longer than she has. but she can’t seem to help herself.

      dimitri’s the strongest he’s ever been, and… troubled. he couldn’t care less that you are technically not his enemy. he will mow you down regardless if you step into his path. she ties the bandage around his forearm and falls silent for a moment. she does not doubt that if dimitri could see this exchange he would call for her head, but claude is not their enemy, and regardless of the danger to herself she wants to keep it that way.

      you are a good man, claude. i don’t want to see you die. in her own time frame, it’d still been only months since she’d watched her father be killed. she’s not eager to endure that suffering again so soon, least of all with someone she might’ve called  friend. 

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037: “There was a power outage and now we have to have dinner by candlelight.”

The electric pokemon they had were too powerful and would fry the circuits if they tried to restore power that way 8′D So a tiny Litwick that Moon caught recently came to save the night! 

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