#dost status

[ajaykumar111-blog]

#2 line dosti status in hindi #dosti shayari in hindi 2 line #dost ke liye shayari 2 line #best friend shayari 2 line #friendship shayari 2 line #Two Lines Friendship Shayari in Hindi #Best Dosti Shayari 2 Line in Hindi | दोस्ती शायरी 2 लाइन इन हिंदी

[islamforeverydaylife]

Status on Nakaam Log: Afsos...Dost Nahi Banaya Hota

#Status on Nakaam Log: Afsos...Dost Nahi Banaya Hota

[tightjeansjavi]

From Eden | AU Pirate! Joel Miller x Mermaid f! Reader

A/N: at long last, we have arrived. This fic was totally self indulgent for me as mermaid lore and pirates has always been a huge interest for me ever since I was a child (I blame pirates of the Caribbean) this is my first time dipping my toe in fantasy writing, but I am so excited to share this with you all. 🏴‍☠️🖤

~word count: 6.6k~

Summary: a prince with a desire for a new life, endures on a journey he’ll never forget. A journey that ends with you by his side always.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implicit smut, ambiguous ending that leads the reader to decide what has become of Joel, mentions of drinking, mild violence, awful mothers/fathers, arranged marriages, pirate talk, death, grief, magic, fantasy, mermaid lore, old English (that may or may not be historically accurate) reader has no physical description, no use of y/n minors dni! (+18)

The sea calls to me, mother. It beckons me. The salty breeze whispers my name. Do not fret where I have ventured. Tis be only in vain. Mourn me not for my departure. I will not live a life I wish not to live. I desire adventure and friendship. I do not wish to be pacified by marriage, and the duties forthcoming with it. I disdain the thought of growing old and grayed without discovering what the world has to offer. I will bear you no grandchildren, and our lineage will wash away with the tide. Pity me not, for I pity you. Leave thou tears unshed, for I will not shed my own in the thought of you.

-J.M 1721

On the eve of Joel’s wedding, under the flickering soft glow of candlelight, the husband-to-be dipped his feather quill lightly into the ink reservoir. He pondered what words would flow onto the parchment resting below his palm. The seconds ticked by as he sealed his destiny in ebony ink. Annabeth would find better. Someone more suitable for her mundane needs. Joel would not be her husband, she would not become his wife.

“My lady, does your mind ever drift and dream of faraway adventure? Does your heart not shriek in the darkest of night for more than these measly castle walls have to offer?” He gingerly took her hand in his own, fighting the bile that rose in his throat as his eyes drifted down to the ring presently shimmering on her finger. The ringer he dutifully betrothed her with.

“My prince, my only wish is to be your dutiful wife and bless you with as many sons and daughters my body can carry. Tomorrow brings new beginnings. In the evening light we shall be married, and you will bed me as you please. Is this no longer what you desire? My prince, what has become of thee?” The backside of her dainty hand rested upon his forehead for she was afraid he had come down with a delirious fever.

“Annabeth, my flower, I wish to see the world. I wish to know what lies beyond the steady horizon. To taste the sea upon my lips, to clench the sand beneath my palms. You speak of me as your prince, but I wish to not be addressed as one. I do not wish to bed thee.”

“Thou speaks evil upon thy tongue. My prince, oh how you wound me so. I wish not to be in a loveless marriage with a man who yearns for the caress of the sea. Why must your heart and mind wander? Why must you disobey your mother’s wishes? Have I not devoted myself to thee?”

A heavy sigh through the evening breeze. Joel’s forehead came to rest upon her bosom as his lashes fluttered shut. “Dearest Annabeth, thou hast not lived in happiness. Thou has lived by her mothers law since thou was just a babe. How cruel that you are expected to marry not out of love, but for status. Dost thou truly want to live a life imprisoned by marriage?”

She wept silent tears for she did not want to be married to a man that did not love her. She did not want to bear his children. She had dreams of a life far richer. Far away from silver platters, incessant lectures, and garments far too tight to breathe in. Her chin fell to rest upon his head as salty tears rolled down her cheekbones.

“My prince, I have always dreamed of becoming a poet. Mother disapproves. She believes that women cannot be anything but wives and mothers. I do not wish to bear children. It is expected of me, but I loathe it.”

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between the valley of her breasts where a smooth silver pendant lay. “Thou mother is an impudent cunt.” She giggled softly at his quick tongue.

her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, twisting ringlets mindlessly. “Mother would have thy tongue for use of such foul language.”

He snorted. “Dost thou disagree? Annabeth, it is just you and I in the gardens this evening. No one shall reprimand thee for speaking the truth.”

“My mother is a foul, loathsome, impudent cunt.”

“Recite it again, my flower.”

“My mother is a cunt.”

“Encore” he hummed.

“My mother is a cunt. I detest this all-too tight dress, and I do not desire to marry thee.”

“Bien joué, ma fleur”

“My prince, I thought thou despised French studies?” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Oui, mon chéri.”

She sighed, soft and gentle as she laid back into the soft cooling grass, gazing up at the glittering sky above. Joel followed her body, resting the side of his head in the lap of her flowy fabric dress.

“My prince, where will thou venture?”

“Tortuga, my flower. There I will be a prince no more. My lineage will fall as my mother weeps, and I shall step into piracy, and sail the high seas just as I have always dreamed.”

“Thou wishes to become a pirate?” She queried.

“Indeed. Tis true, my flower.”

“Thou shall make a handsome pirate.” She softly giggled, gently stroking his soft curls that she would admittedly miss terribly when he would depart.

“Just as thou shall make a brilliant minded poet.” He assured her.

Dark maroon wax dripped languidly along the pale parchment. Joel sealed the letter with a practice hand. His heart raced within the depths of his ribcage as the realization set in that he would be a prince no more. No more pretentious royals, no more stingy small talk, no more ballroom dances, no more lectures.

Joel Miller was to be a free man for the first time in his 17 years of life. The dying candle along his desk was blown out as the smoke curled and lingered. Below his window and past the looming castle walls, Joel could hear the sea whisper his name. In a giddy haste he packed his necessities in a leather bag. He took one last gaze over his room before departing into the ominous night.

His midnight black steed was steady under the saddle as the moonlight guided their way to the port docks. They rode swiftly and silently through the cobblestone city streets. Moving through the shadows with a soft squeeze of his inside leg to spur Hendrix forward. Joel’s horse was one of his prized possessions. A jet black colt with a tiny star being his only white marking. He would be saddened to never see his hooved companion again.

He could taste the salty sea air along his taste buds as the crescendo of crashing waves neared. With a soft tug on the reins, Hendrix slowed to a steady walk along the dock. He was so close to freedom. It was there, in his grasp as he discarded the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. Joel had studied many books on ships and how to maneuver one. It was frowned upon by his mother, so for this reason he’d sneak out late at night and find himself enriched in the library on the east end of the castle. It was now or never for him to put his knowledge learned under a real test. So much for trial and error.

“My prince?” The old sailor hobbled from the shadows of the creaky dock. A lantern trembling in his weathered grip. A quizzical expression crossed his sagging features as he watched Joel dismount from his steed.

“Thou shalt not speak of what thy has seen. I offer my horse in trade for your ship. Hurry please, my fellow. Before they become aware of my untimely departure. I have gold to offer thee as well. My horse can carry you wherever thy desires to wander.” Joel uttered, urgency stricken in his tone.

“My prince..is thee not set to be married in the morn? What use do you have for my ship lad?”

“Good fellow, I simply wish to leave the life I once knew and explore the world and all she has to offer.” He pulled out a sack of gold coins from under his cloak. “All I ask of thee is to speak to no one. Take care of my horse. He’s a good steed, and I shall miss him dearly.”

“Aye, adventure calls thy name?” The sailor pocketed the gold and grasped the smooth leather reins in his palm. “Best be on your way then, laddie. Your steed will be in good hands.”

“Bless you, sir. I wish you good fortune in your days to come.” He gently patted Hendrix along his silky smooth neck. “I shall miss you, my dear friend.”

Just like that, Joel Miller was no longer a prince. His name held a title no more. The tide pulled him out further, and further as he let out a sound filled with glee. A ship of his own to sail the high seas, what a pirate's life f’me.

In the far off distance, Joel could faintly hear the panicked bells ring. The prince was found to be missing from his bed chambers. Where had he gone? No one except Annabeth and an old sailor knew the truth of the prince’s disappearance.

Being a pirate was not all it cracked out to be. Well, in the first few years of entering piracy. His hair had grown longer, longer than it had ever been. It was speckled with sea salt and curled at the nape of his neck. The curls were unruly both from the sea, and maidens that enjoyed tugging on the strands with slender fingers. His once clean shaven face had grown into a patchy beard. The whores he bed didn’t seem to mind how it would scratch the apex of their thighs as he went to town on their pulsing cunts. He felt far more like that of a man with his facial hair. Oh the horror his mother would feel if she were to know of how her once proper, budding son became a frequent customer at one of Tortuga’s many brothels.

He always paid in gold handsomely. It drew the eyes of company that he did not wish to partake in. He was strong, sure and able to fight without breaking a sweat but as soon as a pistol was pulled and he had yet to obtain one, he quickly realized he would not be coming out of this altercation unscathed. He did however get a few good punches in before ultimately handing over the gold coins he kept on his person.

He thought he had the opposing pirates out-fooled by keeping a stash of his gold back at the inn room he inhabited..until he returned later that evening to find his room ransacked and his gold stolen. So be it, he thought. At least they didn’t take the rum.

That’s how he presently found himself in a drunken stupor, wandering the streets, getting into more fights than he could count until a fellow pirate took pity upon him one early morning…

A swift kick to his gut from a heavy boot sent Joel coughing up the rum that was still sloshing in his stomach. He groaned, reaching for his pistol but it was knocked from his grasp and landed a few feet away.

“Get yer ass up laddie.” A gruff voice spoke above him.

“Who the fuck are you—”

Another swift kick had Joel scrambling to sit up as he finally grasped his pistol and cocked it at the intruder. “I suggest ye fuck off back to wherever ye came from.” He growled under his breath.

“Yer drunk, matey. Ain’t gonna get a clear shot even if ya tried.” The older pirate crouched down to his level with a low chortle.

“What’s it to ya?” Joel snarked back.

“Ye got a ship lad? A crew?”

“Aye. I have a ship..I do not possess a crew. Do ye not have a ship? What kind of pirate doesn’t have his own ship?”

“Lost ‘er at sea I’m afraid. Ye have a ship, but be needin’ a crew. I can provide the crew if ye provide the ship, savvy?”

Joel was weary of the older pirate’s offer. He had preferred to sail the seas alone but considering his current state..what more did he truly have to lose?

“Ye have a deal.” He nodded in agreement.

“Smart lad ye be.” He helped the younger pirate to his feet, clapping him on the back stiffly.

Joel had become a seasoned pirate in a short period of time under the guidance of the older pirate. When he passed of old age, Joel became the captain. His ship and crew echoed through the Mediterranean channel. He felt that he had become unstoppable. Driven with greed and the desire for more, he led his crew to their watery grave too soon.

“Captain! She’ll never fit through! You’re goin’ to kill us all!” His secondhand warned him as they steadfastly approached shipwreck cove.

“Aye, she’ll fit! Have I ever let thee down?” His grip along the helm was steady and true.

“No sir, thee have not!”

“Hold ‘er steady boys!” Joel’s confidence wavered when he faced the cold hard truth that his ship would not fit through the rocky channel. He turned the helm sharply to avoid a collision but he was too late, the bow struck true.

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship—” his men yelled in a panic.

a deafening boom

flames

blood curdling screams of his frightened men being dragged down to Davy Jones Locker.

blood oozed from a gash along Joel’s eyebrow as he struggled to pull himself up to his feet. His ears were ringing as he took in the sight before him. Everything in his sight was burning. The wood creaked and groaned as the growing flames licked at his skin. This was the first in many moons that Joel truly felt terrified. He dove into the depths below, using the strength he had left to swim to the nearest shore.

He swore through the murky waters that he caught sight of shimmery scales..a swishing fin. Or perhaps it was his deluded mind playing a trick on him. Mermaids were just old wives tales after all. Creatures of the depths that woo men to their watery graves with alluring songs and seductive beauty.

He struggled to breach the surface as exhaustion seeped into his veins. His lungs screamed for air as he fought against the strong current with everything he had left in him. Suddenly, everything went black.

As a young mermaid you were taught to fear men, whether their ships carried white sails, or black. All men were to be feared. Your father forbade you and your sisters from ever making yourselves known to the surface world. It was too risky especially with the uprising of pirates. Your sisters like to toy with lone sailors lost at sea. They used their beauty and their natural talents of song to lure their victims to the depths.

Their song was melodious, angelic, and addictive; it was almost as if the men were under a trance and unable to escape your sister's snares. It was all a game to your sister’s of course. When your father caught wind of what your sister’s were doing in the pitch black of the night, he encouraged it.

You had no interest in drowning men. You had no reason to cause harm to another being that had inflicted no harm to you. Why couldn’t men and mermaids live in peace?

You spotted the ship crash into the rocky channel from afar. You saw frightened men jump into the sea, thinking that they would survive to see another sunrise..till your sisters dragged them to where the sunlight never reaches. Ripping them limb from limb to become mere fish food.

You witnessed the last body to hit the water from the safety of a looming sponge coral. You watched his arms struggle to pull himself to the surface, desperately clawing for air. When he gave in to what he believed to be his fate, and his body began to sink like deadweight, you made the split second decision to save this man. You swam as fast as you could, gliding through the water as you wrapped your arms around his torso and swam towards the light.

He was heavier in the water, but you were strong willed, and determined to save his life. When you breached the surface the man in your steady grip made no signs of life as you swam to the shore and hauled his body along the wet sand. You discovered that he was quite handsome, with hair that fell in ringlets, and soft pillowy lips that paired with a strong aquiline nose.

This man, pirate or not, was stunning.

Your hand gently came to rest along his cheek, feeling the stubble along his patchy beard lightly prick your skin like a sea urchin. You checked his body for injuries in a haste. Your fingers gently pushed back his hair to find the gash along his forehead. It ran fairly deep into his brow line, while crimson blood continued to trickle down his face only to be washed away by the gentle waves along the shoreline. The sea had healing properties as you knew, and the many plants that dwell below the surface were rich in nutrients, and could heal even the deepest of wounds.

You worked quickly as your fear of the man waking up was becoming prevalent when you observed his dark lashes fluttering and his body twitch. You gathered up a bit of seaweed that was used to heal open lacerations on the skin's surface. You delicately lay a strand of seaweed across his dripping brow. The blood clotted as the miracle plant adhered to his broken skin like glue. Magic, or science? The world may never know.

Your eyes zoned in on the pooling of blood through the once white linen of his shirt. There was a stray fragment of splintered wood sticking out from his side. The intrusion went fairly deep and it would require a little more work.

“Oh, fiddlesticks. I’m deeply sorry, sir. If you can hear me, I’m afraid this is going to hurt a tad.”

Am I dreaming..or is that a maiden's voice?

I must be dead, for I have never heard a voice tis so soft and sweet sounding.

With a small huff you grasped the end of the jagged wood and gave it a firm yank.

Your jolly sailor bold let out a deep gravelly wheeze as his hand subconsciously went to clutch at his side. More seaweed was gently laid upon his open wound and when you were satisfied that beautiful man would not bleed out upon the sand, you turned your body to head back to the sea.

With a flip of your shimmery tail you disappeared under the waves surface, and back to the depths of your home. You didn’t wander far as your own curiosity got the best of you. You hoped that your jolly sailor bold would awake to see another day. Perhaps your sisters and father wouldn’t send a search party for you. Perhaps they would believe you to be crushed by the bow of the ship. For now, you waded in the coral reefs below the surface to patiently wait.

Joel awoke suddenly in a disarray to his surroundings. All he could remember was his prized ship crashing into the rocky channel, his men’s frightened screams, and then everything went to black. How did he end up on the shoreline? Did he swim?..The current was far too dangerous to tread. The waves would knock him down..did someone save him? Or, was it something?

He slowly rose to a sitting position as he tried to rack his brain for any missing important details. His head turned to the side as he glanced down at the apparent indentation along the wet sand. Someone was with him. An Angel? No, it could not be. Joel wasn’t a religious man by any means. Besides, why would an Angel help a pirate such as he?

“‘Must be dreamin’”, he concluded. “Or I’m really dead. Dead as a man can ever be. Forever lost at sea.” His fingers reached up to brush his hairline where he felt a dull pain. He expected to feel the coolness of blood on his skin instead he was met with a strange slimy, yet soft texture. His hand reached down to his side where the splintered wood had been wrenched from and he was met with the same feeling.

“Blimey. What Devil’s work be this?” He twisted his body to get a better look at the wound on his side. His eyes widened the slightest when he saw the seaweed adhered to his skin. Upon closer inspection, the plant was very much still alive, and he could see the tendrils weaving together slowly acting as a suture.

Confused, and ridden in exhaustion, his body flopped back down along the sand with a soft thump. He was unsure how many hours he had slept under the gentle sway of palm trees, and the steady sea kissing at his feet. When he awoke it was due to a voice he had heard. A whisper through the thick vegetation that lay a few yards behind him. It was the same soft voice from earlier. A woman’s voice; the most beautiful voice had ever touched his undeserving ears.

Struggling to his feet, he staggered towards the voice, and used the sturdy bases of the palm trees to balance him. His body was still fairly weak, but he’d be damned if he didn’t meet the maiden that possessed such a sweet sounding tune.

As he drew nearer, the voice became clearer and easily detectable. Oh, it was so beautiful. Chillingly beautiful. It would be fairly easy for a man to be driven into madness from hearing a song so saccharine.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

He followed your voice till he was greeted by the lagoon tucked away in the jungle. The water was crystal clear and below there were all kinds of coral and sea life thriving. What he was first to take notice of was the fair maiden that laid basking along a smooth damp rock. He could only see your upper torso that appeared to be covered by shimmering silk that wrapped around your breasts like drifting seaweed. His lips parted in surprise as he had never laid his eyes upon a maiden so stunning in his lifetime.

A twig snapped under the weight of his boot as he crept closer. You had not caught wind of your jolly sailor bold till your keen ears detected the sound of a twig snapping. It was enough to send your mind in a fury of panic as you dove below the surface. Your tail flapped as you slipped off the rock, it created a wild splash from the movement.

“Wait! I do not mean to frighten thee! Please, don’t go. Are you the maiden that saved me? I awoke on the sand..confused how I came to rest there. Please, need not to be afraid. I promise I will not harm thee.” He slowly approached the entryway to the lagoon, crouching down onto his knees.

You slowly peeked around the corner of the rock you had previously been sunbathing on. “I am the one to save you sir, but I am no maiden.”

“What are thee then? You appear to be a maiden, one that I now owe my very life to. I will forever be in your debt.”

“I am one with the sea..one of her many children that dwell in the depths below. You do not owe your life to me sir. I only wished to do a good deed.”

“One with..the sea? Is this a riddle? My head hurts far too much for any riddles, my dear. Do ye have a name?”

“Tis not a riddle, sir. For I am a mermaid. The sea is my home. I cannot utter my name to thee as it is forbidden.”

“A mermaid? Poppycock. Mermaids are just silly wives tales. I do not believe in such stories.” He swallowed a scoff that crawled up his throat.

Your tail suddenly swished above the surface as Joel clambered back, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“By god, I must be dreamin!’ How can it be? Body of a woman, tail of a fish. Are the tales true?” He asked in disbelief.

“‘You are not dreaming, sir. I am as true as can be. Do I frighten thee?”

“No, no. I am simply just awestruck. A real life mermaid. I have never been confronted with such beauty to behold.”

You cautiously swam closer. You couldn’t help but to be drawn to the thrill of danger, even when every fiber in your scaled being was screaming at you to not draw nearer. Your arms slowly rose from the surface and came to rest along the rocky shore as you looked up at him through soft lashes. “And you, are you my jolly sailor bold?” You asked softly, tilting your chin to rest upon the top of your wrist.

Joel’s cheeks inflamed. Never had he felt so flustered by another being. His hand reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never been pressured with such forward questions. Are your kind allowed to dwell with pirates?”

“For a pirate such as thee, you are quite sweet, and charming. Are all pirates like you?”

“I’m afraid not, my jewel. Most of us are quite brutish in nature. I come from Royal blood, and no matter how many years I have been away from my old life, my manners always find a way to sneak through. My men—” he paused rather suddenly. “My crew..were they saved? Please, tell me that they’re alive and not forever lost at sea.”

“Your men..didn’t survive. I’m so sorry, sir. My sisters are not as kind as I. They dragged them to the depths..ripped them limb from limb. Father would have a heart attack if he saw me conversing with you.”

“Fuck.” He whispered as he fell back onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands. “It’s all my fault. I am the cause of their deaths. If only I had listened..if only my ego did not shroud my judgment, they would still be alive.”

Your hand gently came to rest upon his arm. It caused you great distress to see another being in pain. Physical, or the mental kind, you felt it through and through. “You cannot beat yourself up over what has already been done. Not when you are still breathing air into your lungs, and tasting the sea along thy tongue. Do not weep for the dead, sir. You will see them when the time comes.”

Joel flinched at the soft contact, as it had been many moons since he felt the touch of a woman on his skin. “Joel.” He whispered. “My name is Joel, and I wish for you to whisper it as softly as thou sings.”

“Joel..I like the way it falls from thy tongue. Where doth thou wander from?..how did thou turn to piracy?”

“I like the way it sounds rolling past thy lips. I ran away from home, many years ago. I traded my trusted steed for a sailors ship. I was set to be married and live a life that I did not wish to live. My wife to-be was the only person to understand me, and my dreams. For you see, the sea has always beckoned me, and I finally answered it.”

“You ran away? That sounds awfully exhilarating. I’ve always wanted to leave my father and home behind. I suppose in a way I have, now that I am here with you.”

“Oh, it was. I still remember the rush through my veins when the sea carried me far away. All my life I had been searching for a purpose, and once I finally had it in my grasp, I could not forfeit what I always dreamed of. My jewel, why did thee choose to save me?”

“Your actions are very admirable, Joel. I struggle deeply with allowing other beings to be in pain. It goes against my nature. That is why I have never partook in my sister’s ploys. I never desired to drag lonesome sailors to a watery grave. Your life is just as special as the next. I could not bear to see thee perish.”

Your words touched a place inside Joel that no woman had dared to try and reach. It wasn’t that he was closed off to affection, he just simply didn’t have the heart for it. He bed women for an evening and he’d return to the sea the following morning. It was like clockwork. He only had felt for Annabeth, and even then he felt that it was platonic over romantic. He loved her, but not in the way that made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“I appreciate thee for saving my life. I do not feel that I am deserving to live while my men have died in a brutal fashion, but perhaps I shall take thee as a blessing.”

“Joel, every living being is deserving of life. Your woes shall burden you no longer. Doth thou wish to be happy, and at peace?”

“I wish for that, yes. How do I live with the grief in my bones?”

“You learn to forgive, and forget. You see the world for its simple pleasures of beauty, and grace.”

“Such as thee?” He boldly asked.

“If you wish it.” Your palm gently rested upon his own as you coaxed his hand from his face. “I have never thought pirates to be so..handsome.”

He leaned into your gentle cradled touch along stubble covered cheek. “How do you find such beauty in danger? I’ve killed many men. I’ve played the fool, and the instigator. I’ve made honorable decisions, and piss-planned mistakes. I am that of a scoundrel.”

“No, my jolly sailor bold. If thee were to be that of a scoundrel, you would have brought harm upon me. You are gentle at the core.” Your hand slowly drifted down to his exposed chest, feeling his heart skip a beat under your palm.

“You speak of that as a poet. I’d fancy to hear more of your honeyed voice.”

“Only if thou tells me tales of being a pirate.”

“Deal, my jewel.”

For many suns and moons, you and your jolly sailboat were engrossed in one another’s stories. He’d steal glances at your lips every few sentences as your fingers were gently toying with his soft ringlets. He’d recite to you stories of his past life, and present. Stories of adventure and thrills above the surface.

He craned his head to catch a glimpse of your shimmering tail below the surface. He was fascinated, as much as he was enamored. “Do you ever wish that thou had legs?” He softly asked as you twirled a curl gently.

“Sometimes I do wish for it. The sea has so much life and color to offer..but the surface land does spark my curiosity from time to time. I’ve seen ladies in fancy dresses upon ships with white sails. They always look so beautiful.”

“My dear, those ladies may look beautiful in their garments, they however can hardly breathe in them. You would be miserable in that life. Unless you somehow found your way to freedom.”

“Oh, would I be expected to marry for status? Not for love? I had no inclination to believe that their garments were suffocating, how dreadful.”

“Yes, your parents would have picked out a husband for you, before you’d properly experienced a childhood. You’d be forced into incessant lectures, proper etiquette, training and how to be a functioning member in society. Did I fail to mention you’d be forced to attend fancy parties and engage in mindless small talk? Life above the surface as a royal was draining at best.”

“My father has already picked a husband out for me. He is a fine merman, he just..doesn’t make my heart sing. Oh, how I’d love to dance under the moonlight. To hear a live orchestra..or an opera singer..”

Joel turned his nose up when you stated that you already had a husband picked out by the hand of your father. “I see.. Well, you did run away, did you not? You no longer have to marry. Not when you’re here with me. If you wish so terribly to dance, then we shall. All you have to do is wish for it, my jewel.”

“Joel, how are we to dance when you have legs. and I possess fins..” your lips curved in a soft pout.

“My love, in the crystal water you dwell in of course. Do you trust me?” He slowly sat up to rest upon his strong elbow.

“Of course I trust you. You have given me no reason to not trust you. Do you wish to dance with me under the moonlight, my jolly sailor bold?”

“I do, my jewel.” His words whispered against your skin like a soft warm breeze.

Just like that, Joel had stripped himself of his belongings, his holster that held his pistol and sword were discarded to the side as he struggled to unlace his boots. He had the ghost of a boyish grin across the shadow of his jawline. He truly was that of beauty.

You slowly swam backwards, wading in the gentle water as he swung his legs over the ledge and slipped in. His body was fully healed by now and only a scar along his browline and side were visible.

“Promise not to laugh..I am not the strongest of swimmers.” He chuckled as he swam towards you.

Under the pale moonlight and stars above, you were captivated by his golden tanned skin that was now speckled with water droplets. The gold that hung around his neck shimmered like your scales and the rings that encased his fingers.

“I’d only ever laugh in good fun at thee.”

“I never knew a mermaid could hold such humor.” He winked coyly.

“I never knew a pirate could be so..cheeky.” Your arms slowly looped around his neck as his gentle hands rested upon your scaly waist.

You slowly began to move your bodies under the water, mimicking that of a man and woman dancing to the sweet sound of a violin. The water rippled as the crickets chirped along the shore.

Joel Miller had never been in love; he decided now that his heart belonged to you, a mermaid that he believed was brought to him by fate alone. How blessed he was to be given a second chance at a fruitful life. He didn’t need a ship, or a crew. All he needed was you.

“Joel..” you whispered through the calm evening air.

“Yes, my jewel?”

“Do you believe that it’s ever too soon to tell someone you love them?”

“No, my love. I do not believe that there is ever a time too soon, or too sudden to confess your love for someone.”

“Then if that is to be true, I love you.”

“I love you, my sea.” His forehead gently came to rest upon your own as his hands slowly and delicately slid up your body. He stroked your hair, your cheekbones as his thumb dragged across your lower lip. “I wish to kiss thee. Do you wish it?”

You leaned into his gentle touch as your fingers threaded through his sea-salt speckled curls. “I wish to feel thy lips upon my own.”

He turned his head to the side, nose gently brushing against your own as his lips met yours. His hands were now gently cradling your face with the utmost care as he kissed you like a lover does for the first time. Your lips moved in synchronized harmony, you and your jolly sailor bold.

Upon one summer's morning, when the sea was at her angriest and the wind howled a ghostly tune as the skies above darkened to pitch black, Joel had decided that a life above the surface was a life he no longer wanted to live. He wished to be with you, forever.

“My jewel!” He yelled for you as he raced for the lagoon that had become yours and his personal oasis.

You swam up from the surface of the lagoon, his voice was like that of a beacon. “My Joel, you shouldn’t be out here. You must find shelter. The storm is picking up and I am frightened that you will be caught up in her fury.” Your tone was urgent as he crouched along the edge of the lagoon.

“My Jewel, my light, please. Please listen to the words I speak. The storm does not frighten me. I have no desire to seek out shelter when I am safe here. I wish for you to take me to the depths. I wish for you to take me to your Eden. Please, my heart aches terribly that I can not be with you fully. The surface world has become my prison. I don’t wish to dwell in it any longer.”

Your face fell upon his confession. Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head vigorously, grasping his hands in your own. “No, my jolly sailor bold. Do not wish such a thing. You are not suited to dwell in the depths of the sea. I forbade it.”

“Please. Please, I am begging you. I have given thee my heart, my soul, take me all; for I am yours.”

“Joel..my heart breaks for thee. You will never return to land if you make this choice.” His hand gently cradled your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

“It is a choice I am willing to make. I wish to be with you for the rest of eternity. Till the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. Till mountains crumble, and the sea dries, and the earth cracks and shatters to dust. I wish to be with you, always.” He murmured softly.

“Take my hand, and never let go.”

“Never, my jewel. I will never let go.” He promised to you.

He grasped your hand bravely in his own. He kissed you swiftly, holding your face as close to his as possible. He could taste the salt dripping from your tears mixing in with his own. He took his final lungful of air, before you dragged him below the surface.

Joel Miller, once a prince turned a pirate; Was never seen by the surface world again. Some say he was driven mad by the loneliness, and grief that he took his own life and drowned in the sea's treacherous depths. Others say the sea always called his name, beckoned him to return home, and so he did. The sea claimed him, and he her, just as it had been written.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tessa-quayle @saradika @chaotic-mystery @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @amanitacowboy @last-girl @lovers-liability @pedrostories

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #joel miller angst #pirate! Joel Miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller story #joel miller one shot #joel miller self insert #from eden #tight jeans javi fic

[zenzaaaaaaaaaaaa]

fics currently enjoying free real estate in my brain meat

BNHA -

Skydive by AriesBuenos Midoriya Izuku helps a serial killer be slightly less of a serial killer.

Residual Hope by SimplyKaren Midoriya Izuku helps a DIFFERENT serial killer be much less of a serial killer. reconcile by whatagoodegg Trapped in baby jail with a supervillain. Race against the clock to see who can radicalize who (and we’ve both had traumatic childhoods).

Apex Predator by silver jackdaw Can I get twenty more of these protective, badass, and self sacrificial little bitches.

Personality Swap AU by BelleAmant Impostor syndrome turned useful skill: the musical. BNHA/Persona 5 -

Dost Thou Even Steal Hearts? by BukuBuku Persona 5 Protagonist destroys the status quo while balancing police related trauma and the fact that God hates him. Danny Phantom/DC -

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood by halfagone Jeff Bezos kinnie grows a heart raising a half-dead teenager.

Bus to Nowhere by foldingfacets Danny Phantom is homeless in Gotham, comedy ensues. DC -

in the healing of trauma by StoriesAreMagic Tim Drake gets the shit beat out of him but he's just fine babyyyyyy.

Signed Red Robin by @mediacircuspod Tim Drake tries to be a professional, ending a business relationship, much to the confusion of the family he is abandoning.

Banshee In A Well by @liverobinreaction Tim Drake can't really... die. He just also does it a lot.

How To Train Your Dragon -

A Thing Of Vikings by @athingofvikings​ 1.5 million of glorious, beautifully researched historical fantasy fiction with dragons.

Naruto/Game of Thrones -

Whirlpool Queen, Maelstrom King by cheshire_carroll Sansa Stark politics so hard she breaks ninja society a little. Owl House -

Weekend at Belos's by @watery-melon-baller So. You need to keep a regime together while hiding the leader's body (he’s your uncle) and your bird (who hates the regime) won’t stop fortnite dancing over his rotting corpse. Percy Jackson -

Constellations by liketolaugh Percy goes to therapy for suicidal thoughts and also all of the Trauma. Wildly cathartic.

Oh Yeah, No, I Totally Forgot by BlueberryLimoncello Just because Sally Jackson was abandoned by the king (of the sea) doesn't mean she has to give up on the queen (that guy's wife).

Citizens of Glass by @mrthology Turns out godhood is less of a choice and more of a duty. Star Wars -

Don't Look Back by @this-acuteneurosis Leia time travels to pre-Clone Wars times and does politics very very good.

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns by chancecraz Leia time travels to the start of A New Hope. Complex emotions and familial relations ensue. In Which Series by Ariel_Sojourner Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker time travel to the Clone Wars and do war very very good.

Certain Point by @esamastation Obi-Wan Kenobi time travels to the Clone Wars and also does war very very good.

Civil Wars, Whistleblower Tactics... by @jackdaw-kraai Luke Sk- Sorry, Luke Lars is a very good engineer. Darth Vader approves of his new underling/adopted son. Star Wars/Assassin's Creed -

Sailing the Stars by @esamastation Desmond Miles ends up in the Clone Wars and does neutrality very very good.

#fic rec #fic recs #i tried to get the authors that had tumblrs but i might have missed a few

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@ariveth

And how romantic to borne split betwixt a goddess of the Night and a literal, metaphysical Goddess, as art thou split in twain Roland's own Body for that dunmeris Ability. His grin sneaks in Vanity, that curl of his own, beautiful arrogance, and the sweet smells of teas and sugars and hearty bowls of warming stew hast his nostrils to flare, and to crick his head as like a Stag in the middle of a quiet Wood.

And that quiet hum within his Darling's throat hast Roland's face to turn again; to pause in their walking, to dip that healthy, pink bruise of Compassion deeper onto this private marrow.

His face reflects thus. "Thou hast more leave to speak with Her than I," says he simply, and bounces his brows for initiative. "None carry the sacred blood of the God-Touched within my family Tree. Thou art Chosen by the brilliant rubies of thy iris, and the ashy, seductive spread of thy sleek, darkened skin. If there is Love involved," says Roland, and brings he their clasped hands up onto to his mouth, yea, to sweetly kiss.

"-- then, I believe, that is enough. From mine own subsequent Knowledge." And dost Roland's handsome eyebrows waggle harder, and their paused stature begins to attract attention; art they shouted for, welcomingly, by that sect of robed-and-hooded cultists, and waved o'er for sup and religious comfort. Her statue in its ice-crusted Shape looms like a portent a'fore the curve of the glowing sunset.

#!!! #insanely pretty image omfg #ariveth #v; misty mountains cold #th; dual heartbeats

[immediatebreakfast]

Marmion round two!

The poem seems to (for now) mostly focus on lord Marmion's arrival to the castle, and the impact of said arrival has upon the subjects, and more specifically the soldiers.

Moreover, lord Marmion did not arrive alone, with enough company to indicate how his lordship leads his people. Yet, the way these are numbered, and described could be seen of how Marmion is guarded yes, but not too guarded as not to give the impression that his status makes him a delicate noble in need of a lot of protection.

Behind him rode two gallant squires, Of noble name and knightly sires: They burned the gilded spurs to claim; For well could each a war-horse tame, Could draw the bow, the sword could sway,

First, there are two squires behind lord Marmion. Both of them are highlighted in their abilities for combat, and their noble birth. Yet, even when these squires are put right behind Marmion for protection, the poem wants us to know how they are gallant in both combat, and romance. Telling, with adjectives like courteus and actions like dancing, that the squires are not only warriors, but gentlemen as well.

Four men-at-arms came at their backs, With halbert, bill, and battle-axe: They bore Lord Marmion’s lance so strong, And led his sumpter-mules along, And ambling palfrey, when at need Him listed ease his battle-steed. The last and trustiest of the four, On high his forky pennon bore; Like swallow’s tail, in shape and hue, Fluttered the streamer glossy blue, Where, blazoned sable, as before, The towering falcon seemed to soar.

Second, four men (also armed) follow the squires while guiding Marmion's mules. The remark on the fourth one is very interesting since it mentions the falcon imagery again, but this time unlike Marmion, this falcon is "soaring" in between the blue of the essemble instead of being "trapped" in gold. What could this mean when a person of lower rank wears the same symbol as a lord, yet on the person the symbol is "free."

Last, twenty yeomen, two and two, In hosen black, and jerkins blue, With falcons broidered on each breast, Attended on their lord’s behest: Each, chosen for an archer good, Knew hunting-craft by lake or wood;

The count of lord Marmion's people went from six to twenty six in a matter of paragraphs. These soldiers are described mostly with their abilities in combat by mentioning the weapons they are prolific in, a very interesting choice since one would expect the mentioning of their fighting ways. Yet, I think this could also Illustrate how many weapons they mastered under the eyes of lord Marmion. A bow, a boar spear, a sword, their belts.

Tis meet that I should tell you now, How fairly armed, and ordered how, The soldiers of the guard, With musket, pike, and morion, To welcome noble Marmion,

I was making fun a little bit of lord Marmion's request of being received with trumpets, laughter, and glee... And it happened! Everyone in Norham organized themselves exactly how Marmion wanted, and the poem even remarks how this celebration is something that not even the castle itself had seen. Everything went to the letter, and with descriptives like thundering, flourished, and even telling how the sound made angels scatter.

Welcome to Norham, Marmion! Stout heart, and open hand! Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan, Thou flower of English land!”

What a chant to receive the lord. What an entrance for this man. I can even hear the voices of everyone yelling this at the top of their lungs.

Two pursuivants, whom tabarts deck, With silver scutcheon round their neck, Stood on the steps of stone, By which you reach the donjon gate, And there, with herald pomp and state, They hailed Lord Marmion: They hailed him Lord of Fontenaye, Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye, Of Tamworth tower and town;

Then, after the introduction two pursuivants (junior ranking officer) present lord Marmion, and what I can assume are all of the many titles he has won through kin, and conquest.

Now, largesse, largesse, Lord Marmion, Knight of the crest of gold! A blazoned shield, in battle won, Ne’er guarded heart so bold.

I don't know why, but even if this chant is complimentary of Marmion as a knight, it somehow feels like an omen of how that bold heart may be the one causing things.

Overall, even if this canto doesn't keep on with describing lord Marmion, it tells us how he is a leader by describing his army. Look at him all gallant, and brave, so his people should reflect his image. He makes sure that his essemble has the delicacy of dancing in a hall, and the might of holding a sword. A very knightly view given, and exalted by abilities, and blue.

#The other posts were right this poem is written to be said outloud #The candence of the rhymes makes it that way #It's really impressive #marmion daily #marmion #poetry

[ofdemonessence]

Visit from The Horned King

The Horned King, a formidable demon and father to Princess Delia, arrived at her gothic mansion in the forest after a prolonged absence. The towering mansion, draped in an aura of enigma and power, beckoned him as he stepped into its grand halls. Delia, adorned in resplendent attire befitting her status as a dream therapist and dream walker, greeted him with a warm embrace.

"Greetings, my fair daughter," the Horned King proclaimed, his voice resonating with an air of regality. "Verily, it has been a considerable span since our last encounter. I bid thee welcome to this dwelling of dark grandeur."

Delia's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and joy as she curtsied gracefully. She can easily shift to their regal tone and accent, having grown up speaking in such a fashion. Delia doesn't talk like this to anyone else, because they do not understand her and think she is playing the part of some character from a Shakespearean play. "Father, I am most delighted by thy presence. Pray, enter and partake in the embrace of mine humble abode."

They settled amidst the opulence of the mansion's gothic decor, ensconced in a sumptuous sitting area. The Horned King, with a flourish of his hand, summoned forth a servant to pour them each a chalice of velvety, dark elixir—a beverage both esteemed and cherished. As they raised their goblets, Delia spoke with an eager anticipation.

"Dearest father, permit me to regale thee with the wondrous tales of mine sojourn within this forest. The ancient arboreal sentinels whisper their secrets unto my ears, and the mystical creatures that dwell herein have become my trusted allies—nay, mine teachers. Through the art of dream therapy and dream walking, I have brought solace and illumination to many a troubled soul."

The Horned King listened intently, his eyes gleaming with admiration for his daughter's accomplishments. "By the grace of the infernal realms, I am moved by thy noble pursuits, Delia. Thy ability to traverse the ethereal realm of dreams and guide others upon this hallowed path is a testament to thy strength and compassion. But prithee, tell me, how hast thou fared in this forest, a realm distant from our veritable home?"

Delia's voice, imbued with a blend of enthusiasm and wistful remembrance, filled the room. "Father, this forest hath become my sanctuary—a haven of otherworldly beauty and tranquility, wherein my spirit doth find succor. Though it differeth from the realm we once called home, I have discovered a sense of belonging hither. The denizens of the nearby hamlet have embraced mine services, and mine repute as a dream therapist hath flourished."

The Horned King nodded, a flicker of concern adorning his countenance. "And what of thy safety, dear daughter? Hast thou encountered perils or adversaries within this verdant domain?"

Delia's expression turned solemn as she recounted her trials. "Indeed, father, challenges have beset me. Shadows doth occasionally conceal nefarious forces, seeking to test mine resolve. Yet, through the gifts bestowed upon me as a dream walker, and the protections I have woven, I have navigated these dangers with unwavering vigilance. I remain ever wary, forsooth, never underestimating the potency of lurking threats."

The Horned King's gaze softened, a mixture of pride and paternal protectiveness evident in his eyes. "Remember, Delia, thou dost bear the strength of our ancient lineage within thy very essence. Shouldst thou ever confront a peril too formidable to surmount alone, summon me forth, and I shall hasten to thy side with all the might at my disposal."

Delia reached forth, her hand gently resting upon her father's. "I am grateful for thy steadfast support, dear father. Thy words resonate deep within my heart. I shall not forget thy benevolent offer, yet I have learned to stand resolute, drawing upon mine own abilities when need be."

#/i just want a lover of delia's to be shoved in a closet and witnessing all this lmaooo #drabble #the demonic succubus || 😈

[mifunstuff]

Grade, be not Good

The troubled person of the educational status tells their tragic tale based on the words of John Donne's "Death, be not Proud".

Source: AI generated image by the program, Fotor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grade, be not good, though some have called thee

Lousy and dreadful, for they are much so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Drop not, poor Grade, nor yet canst thou fail me.

Without rest and sleep, which but all tests be,

Failures; then with thee much more will flow,

And soonest our brain cells for thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to guesses, cheats, and professors,

And dost with pencils, ink, and papers dwell,

And text or slides can make us cry as well

And worse than my death; why not curve'st my scores?

One short study missed, it falls eternally

And grade shall be no more; Grade, thou shalt drop.

#poetic frustrations #the only type of complaint my teachers will allow #parody #writing #poetry #poems on tumblr #death #school #grade #failure #books & libraries #john donne #macabre #humor #i am tired #knowledge #lol #darkness #monster #eldritch #demon #creature

[justanotherstory]

Y.J.H.D

Sooo..long time no see huuhhh!! ..well I was quite busy with some school stuff and exams uk.. #studentlifestruggles (also I was out of ideas :)) anyways ���Rukawat ke liye khed hai.." and maybe main ab aur"consistent" ho jaau!!

I have quite a few stories which I thought I'll write about..my maths board exam day, Teachers' day'23 with my lovely seniors..and my first open mic!! But but but ....since I am lazzy and have this very unnecessary amount of chull..I'll talk about something else today.

Today let's talk about the cult, the classic..GenZ ke "yeh hamare zamane ki movie hai" wala movie everyone's favourite YJHD!!!..Who doesn't like this movie!!??? Everyone one has their own learnings and memories from Yeh Jawaani hai deewani..The movie which gave us Bunny..the movie that taught us "kabhi kabhi kuch paane ke liye kahi se nikalna bhi zaroori hai".. I mean you already know how beautiful that movie is..

Yeah so, just like everyone, even I have my own interpretation of this movie.. and I will  share that today ig(although no one asked for it). After watching the movie(which was during the lockdown)I wondered about the origin story of Bunny, Aditi, Avi and Naina Talwar!!..like how someone named Kabir Thappar became Bunny?  "Woh sab dost bane kaise!!!???" And soo many more questions...so I decided to write up the answers to all these questions in a way I wish them to be..

Okay so imagine the story like this...

Its the first day of first grade everyone's just looking up at the new faces all around and the little kids are just fighting for the first bench..and then enters the "heartbeat" .. the one who will be unknowingly responsible for all the classroom madness, Kabir already shouting and giggling and waves to Avinash, who has already saved a seat for him.. and after talking a bit about how they spent their holidays. They see a girl fighting on the very first day with a boy who took her pencil.And then arrives the teacher who is already up for a challenge in her head. She then observes a quite girl sitting at the corner seat looking out of the window.. So she asks the "warrior kinda girl"-Aditi to sit with this dandelion-kid ,Naina and in her head Aditi is singing up for a punishment coz sitting with Naina is like sitting with a bronze statue who she knows will hardly talk to her and then Bunny convinces Avi to sit near the window at a vacant seat behind these girlies..

But that one fine day, when Kabir pulled Aditi's chair and she fell down and everyone laughed , she shouts at Kabir and is just about to cry when she yells "main tumhari teacher ko complain krungi !!" and this marks the beginning of a cold war between Aditi and Kabir.  Everytime Kabir would find ways to tease Aditi and she would also fight him back. Their banters were a constant source of entertainment for the whole classroom. They acted as the most obidient students in front of the teachers but as soon as they left, during the break time, the classroom would turn into a wrestling ring where they fought with Avi being the refree. Avi was their mediator , woh best friend bhale hi Kabir ka ho, pr Aditi se dosti bhi pakki thi and Naina, Naina would just remain quiet and look at all that choas  and long for such friends. The always fighting duo didn't have any hate for each other rather when put together they would make the strongest team.. Months went by... and Kabir became "Bunny" soon after the day of their second grade picnic when he boasted to Aditi saying "agar darr lage na ..toh mera hath pakad lena.."and then daar bhi laga aur haath bhi pakda.. Kabir ne ... Aditi ka kyunki woh ek bunny se daar gya tha ...and hence Bunny. But its not like Aditi wasn't given a name she was called "magnet " why you may ask.. coz the other magnet was Avi! Weird right..ik..even Aditi felt the same when se got to know about the "other magnet" years later..

Samay ka pahiyaa ghumta gaya.. Naina, Aditi, Avi, Bunny grew upp.. Now the warriors weren't fighting all the time rather they became best of friends and now Avi , Bunny and Aditi became a trio.. Naina and Avi also became good friends since Naina was the one who always helped Avi cheat in exams. Soo yeah you may say that exams were the reasons they became friends but it wasn't the only reason for their friendship although the movie plot showed Naina had feelings for Bunny , but with Avi she felt like home. With Avi she felt like she has escaped from all her life problems all the maddness and all the sufferings" ek sukoon tha uski baaton mei.." I am not trying to ship them together but its just that a best friend like Avi is what we all need .Later on maybe Naina and Avi lost connection maybe their this friendship didn't last long and maybe Naina didn't even try to hold him back as her friends leaving her alone wasn't something new for her and she was so tired of trying that she started blaming herself and then became more silent.. and maybe that's why the movie didn't highlighted Naina and Avi's friendship much.

Few years later,Bunny and Aditi slowly drifted away..something happened between Avi , Bunny and Aditi maybe something so extreme that none of them had imagined.  What could have happened? Maybe Bunny shattered Aditi's trust . Friendship with Bunny was her super power but when suddenly someone snatched that away, she could never trust anyone like that again. Avi tried again  and again to bring them closer but naah the scar was soo deep that won't heal easily although it seemed that everything was sorted but it wasn't the trust that had gone never came back and that's why when in the movie she  sends the video invite to Kabir she is a bit hesitant and nervous and didn't even expected him to be their at their big day.

But heyy, everything did sort between all four of them as we move towards the end in the movie right!!? And after the movie ends they all lived their happily ever after.. together all 6 of them Naina-Bunny, Aditi-Tarun and Avi- ? Avi with??? Well some mysteries are better left unsolved..

Hope you enjoyed this blog and plan to rewatch the whole movie now:)

This was just another story.

And this is me,

Singing Off <<33

#yjhd #lifelessons #bollywood #justanotherstory #stories #movies #ranbir kapoor #deepikapadukone

[palaceofimperium]

10

While Raguel is letting everyone in the dining room know what has gone on, Abriella and Cruz are still out in the garden.

Abriella tried to assess the situation around her as her shock began to wear off. She still was having problems taking in the fact that her uncle Damien had seemingly lost his mind and attacked not only his daughter but his highest General in a fit of rage that eclipsed anything she could have previously imagined him capable of.  The fact that Lucifer had known that something like this was coming and had made preparations chilled her even more.  He hadn’t shared that information with her, or anyone for that matter, before it had happened.  What else was he hiding?  It was something that she and Cruz would have to discuss with him later.

At the moment, Lucifer was escorting Kaylin to her suite so that she could get cleaned up and rest.  Arioch and Mithos had taken Asher to the infirmary to get further healing and so Arch could give him some medicinal herbs specific to dragons.  While they could heal to a point, if they tried to completely heal him, there was the potential that they would miss something that  had they let it finish healing on their own would have been taken care of.  For that reason, all supernatural healing rarely went beyond 75%.  This also took into account that not all beings had organs and such in the same place and sometimes trying to heal a being with an organ system different than your own could cause more damage than good past that point.

The only two members of her Royal Guard not otherwise occupied, Orpheus and Andronicus, were currently cleaning up the garden around her as Abriella was lost in her thoughts and trying to still digest it all and turn it over in her mind.  Cruz was off to the side, watching everything transpire with an indecipherable look on his face.  From his words earlier, she knew that he was unhappy about what Damien had done to both Asher and Kaylin, but beyond that she did not know the thoughts of her brother.  Were she to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to broach that subject with him either.  Often his thoughts leaned to the darker and more violent side.

Finally the blood was off the grass, or at least what was left blended in with it.  Being that Asher’s blood was golden colored, it didn’t quite clash with the green grass like red did, so it had seemed to fade away faster.  A troll and a goblin that worked in the garden were draining the fountains and running something through the piping that would take care of the blood there so that when it was turned on again that the water would once more run clear.  Pixies and gnomes were out tending to the flowers, bringing out their frogs and snails to help.  There was a flurry of activity everywhere.

With everything being handled, Abriella went over to stand next to Cruz, who still was as stoic and unmoving as a statue.  “Should we increase patrols around the Palace? I know that we have increased the wards, but Damien may have friends and contacts already here that we would not have looked askance at before.”  There was no one within the Palace that she trusted more than her brother, certainly not when it came to the security of those who she cared about.  Kaylin and she may not have been the closest, but they were family and family was always first.

“It would seem most prudent.”  Cruz looked down at his sister and sighed.  This was not a situation he wanted either of them to be in.  It would not be the Princes that would bring war to their door next, but their own kin.  “No one should leave the Palace until Damien has been dealt with.  We dost not wish to hand him a hostage.  His sanity is most certainly gone and anyone who did fall into his grasp would be in great peril.”  This happening on the day that Abriella’s friends had come to the Palace was a tragic coincidence and he was sure that it was not escaping any of the males that remained in the dining room that they would not only need to help the females adjust to life in Imperium, but also to be more vigilant than normal.

Abriella’s head nodded, her face serious.  Inside, her emotions churned and her thoughts tumbled. There was no stillness in her mind or soul. It was not as if they had not been fighting almost constant wars and battles for several years with the Princes, but this was different.  Some of those that they were facing would have previously been allies that they had fought alongside in the past.  Would they truly come against the forces of Imperium that backed Abriella and Cruz?  Or would they decide that they were not as loyal to Damien as he  believed them to be?  She did not know, but the thoughts were weighing on her heart along with others.  By now everyone would have heard some version of what had happened from Raguel.  While no doubt he would have done his best not to scare everyone, she knew her friends who weren’t from Imperium would be worried and possibly even scared.  Hopefully her grandfather, father, and the others who were from there could reassure them that they were all safe.  But for how long?

#the imperium chronicles #new chapter #new writing #writeblr #my writing #fantasy #fiction #dark fiction #dark fantasy #hell #imperium #queen #king #horseman of death #horseman of war #palace #my ocs #writing #original story #original work #original character #original fiction #original fantasy #original writing #writers on tumblr #female writers #women writers #writblr #writerblr #garden scene

[cljordan-imperium]

GET TO KNOW A CHARACTER FROM MY WIP

I was tagged by @late-to-the-fandom & @saltysupercomputer

My victims tagged will be: @writingpotato07 @autumnalwalker and @blind-the-winds + OPEN TAG

I orginally was going to do Brie, however in an effort to get him to stop being the "strong silent type", she has shoved Cruz forward who is glowering at me, but will participate. Any comments from her highness will be in pink.

Relationship Status: Single. Happily. Eternally. Fuck off.

Favourite Colour: Black

Favourite Food: Steak, rare. *whispers* still mooing is better

Song stuck in their head: Me and My Broken Heart by Rixton. I blame Thinius. He shall suffer greatly later.

Last thing they searched on a BBS: It was sometime in the 90's, I don't remember.

Time: I live in literal Hell like it matters. *gets elbowed in the gut* 12:22PM.

Last Thing They Read: A report on the movements of Amon and intel from within his ranks on his future plans. We must preparest for battle it seems.

Last Book They Enjoyed Reading: The Voynich Manuscript as it was being written. And no, we won't translate.

Favourite thing to cook/bake: The enemy. *rolls eyes and sighs* Arch is teaching me to make potions. *stares and tilts her head* Fine, I can do a good roast whole pig.

Favourite thing to do in their free time: Kill non-allied demons.

Most niche dislike: Dez *almost chokes laughing*

Opinion on circuses: They look good in flames and I live in the middle of one. *facepalms and sighs*

Do they have any sense of direction: One dost not need a sense of direction when one can trace wherever one pleases. I haven't used a map to travel in.....at least a millennia.

#writeblr #tag game #get to know oc #oc in wip #cruz #brie #the imperium chronicles

[feste-de-jester]

🃏 ⤷ Viola as a Strong Female Character (Deep-Diving into Twelfth Night #1)

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VIOLA: What country, friends, is this? (Twelfth Night 1.2.1)

Viola's first line in the play immediately and clearly introduces her character as intelligent - assessing her situation and making an attempt to find out what she can do about it by asking questions. A good portion of this scene is a quick-fire exchange between herself and the Captain, not only providing the character with answers but also setting up the foundation of the situation that triggers the complex main plot.

VIOLA: And what should I do in Illyria? My brother, he is in Elysium. Perchance he is not drown'd - what think you, sailors? (Twelfth Night 1.2.50-52)

One may parallel her behaviours with that of the Countess Olivia, a wealthy woman who is later established to be in a very similar situation in consideration of the loss of her own brother.

CAPTAIN: ...then leaving her in the protection of his son, her brother, who shortly also died; for whose dear love, they say, she hath abjured the company and sight of men. (Twelfth Night 1.2.84-88)

With both women experiencing the grief of their brothers, Shakespeare arranges a direct contrast that allows a viewer to see how differently the two characters respond - granting a great insight into Viola's reputation as a strong female lead.

It may be argued that Viola's independence may be generated from her social status, particularly in comparison to Olivia. As an upper-class woman, being so used to being provided for constantly and having the social freedom to take her time with grief, Olivia approaches her situation by turning away any man and indulging in the excessive routine of remaining in full mourning for seven years.

VALENTINE: The element itself, till seven years' heat, shall not behold her face at ample view; but like a cloistress she will veiled walk, and water once a-day her chamber round with eye-offending brine: all this to season a brother's dead love which she would keep fresh and lasting in her sad remembrance. (Twelfth Night 1.1.30-35)

Viola, on the other hand, is unable to do this herself, only has the ability to recognise her the 'loss' of her brother and is forced instantly move forward in order to guarantee her own survival as a woman who has now lost her social protection as a result of the off-stage shipwreck.

Following the information she receives from the Captain, she ultimately decides her own path forward - arguably a contradiction to the 17th century ideology of male control.

VIOLA: I'll serve this duke; thou shalt present me as a eunuch to him; it may be worth thy pains for I can sing, and speak to him in many sorts of music, that will allow me very worth his service. (Twelfth Night 1.2.101-110)

Her power as a character, a central character no less, is brilliantly represented by Shakespeare from her very first line, and is continued throughout the rest of the text. When put up against Feste, for example, in Act III, Scene I, her intelligence is exclusively shown when she engages in brisk round of banter with him.

Feste's purpose as a character is to be the knowledgeable voice that guides the play (unblinded by and disconnected from romance, as well as other elements), so with Viola being able to keep up with his witty comments and retaliate in an effective way further proves her ability - even as a female figure, a trait in women that was often overshadowed in society at the time.

VIOLA: Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live by thy tabor?

FESTE: No, sir, I live by the church.

VIOLA: Art thou a churchman?

FESTE: No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

VIOLA: So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. (Twelfth Night 3.1.1236-1245)

And in the same conversation:

VIOLA: I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.

FESTE: Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. (Twelfth Night 3.1.1260-1263)

Furthermore, this can be proved with other characters dealing with Feste's wit, particularly upper-class male figures like Sir Andrew or Malvolio. They seem to lack the intellect to have a balanced conversation with him, despite being at the liberty of education as noble or middle-class characters.

Viola's ability to guide herself through the main plot as an independent, clever and strong female character may arguably be a show of early-feminism in a very simplified form. Whilst this may be debated - as her ultimate goal throughout the text is the very traditional idea of gaining the reciprocated love of another man, promoting the concept of female dependence on men - her traits shown in order to achieve this counters this in some ways.

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Personally, I love looking into Viola's as a character and everything that Shakespeare uses her to represent. I'm really open into exploring how people view her differently, and whether or not she is argued to truly be a powerful female character or if this is just done very weakly.

I would absolutely love to write about the counter argument to this, as well as looking into the idea feminism in other female characters like Maria or Olivia, as there is definitely some qualities that I would like to explore!

I hope that I've sort of explained the points clearly enough, and I would be happy to discuss about it, too! :)

Thanks for reading :D

feste-de-jester (they/he)

#deep-diving into twelfth night #twelfth night #what you will #william shakespeare #shakespeare #feminism #feminism in shakespeare #viola #1600s #seventeenth century #17th century #comedy #romantic comedy #english literature

[lettheskyburn]

P.3. AND SO HE GETS TO DIE A SAINT

Catholicism always was a part of MCR. “I was raised Catholic, which turned me off from religion because I had a very bad experience”, as Gerard once said. But we can still see a lot of religious things through the years and even now in the new era. 

Let’s start with angels that have been mentioned earlier. The first angel we saw was the one at the Shrine show and also we had them in tour promo materials.

The total number of these angels is at least 7 (including the broken ones in promo videos). So here’s some thoughts.

The Book of Revelations in the Bible is especially important in general because it focuses on the idea of the Apocalypse, linking together the themes of catholicism and the apocalyptic one.

Let’s consider some key elements of the Book of Revelation that can be linked to the mcr tour:

·       The important number in the BoR is seven (this book begins with the prophet John addressing the book to the Seven Churches of Asia, mentions a seven-headed dragon, seven seals that need to be opened, seven angelic trumpets, seven Spiritual Figures, seven bowls poured onto Earth) à it can be linked to the 7 statues of angels we can find in MCR merch, posters and other promotional items.

·       In Chapter 4 of Revelation the Four living creatures (Angels) are described. Couldn’t it be the potential link to four members of the band?

·       Seven seals:

  o 1st – 4th seals: it brings Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse down on Earth:

             1st – on a white horse, carries a bow and a crown – Conquest, ivoking Pestilence (plague from Foundations lyrics, pandemic)

             2nd – on a red horse, carries a sword – War

             3rd – on a black horse, carries the scales – Famine

             4th – on a pale horse – Death (Foundations lyrics again)

o   5th seal : “when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God […] How long  dost thou not judge and avenge our blood?” (Foundations lyrics: You must fix your heart and you must build an altar where it swells)

o   6th seal: the sixth seal will be the literal cosmic disturbances caused by nuclear war or a global earthquake that causes volcanic debris to pollute the atmosphere, which turns the moon blood red and the sun dark – link to A

o   7th seal: the final judgement which will determine who is worthy of Heaven and who isn’t (Foundations lyrics: and so he gets to die a saint but she will always be a whore)

·       In Chapter 12 of Revelations there is a War in Heaven – led by Archangel Michael against the serpent/Satan

o   The image of the Woman of the Apocalypse (who gives birth to a child who the dragon = Satan wants to kill) is important in this interpretation.

o   The Woman of the Apocalypse can also be translated as The Woman Clothed With the Sun and is considered to be Virgin Mary (C).

o   One of the best-known paintings of this woman is William’s Blake “The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun”:

This creature ow William Blake is very similar to the monster appeared in Watchmen comic (where Blake’s quote from Tyger poem appears too) :  

William Blake is the painter & author, who links The Watchmen war & the Catholicism themes.

·       In Chapter 15: John writes of seven angels with seven plagues, the last plagues ever to occur. He states that until the plagues are complete no one can enter the Temple of God (plagues à link to Foundations lyrics)

·       The seven bowls judgement in Chapter 16 are plagues brought on Earth, punishing those who went against God:

o   Noisome and grievous sores (“scabs” t-shirt from Sacramento AFTERSHOCK festival)

o   Sea turns to blood (blood, everywhere is blood when it comes to MCR :))

o   Rivers & Springs turn to blood

o   A major heatwave causes the Sun to burn with intense heat and to scorch people with fire: burning man from the merch truck as well as Foundations lyrics (Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays)

o   The kingdom of the beast is plunged into darkness

o   The Euphrates River dries up to facilitate the crossing of the armies from the east, on their way to Israel for the battle of Armageddon - war reference

o   Earthquakes & hailstones: link to the apocalypse again

·       Chapter 17 – the Whore of Babylon is introduced (but she will always be a whore lyrics). She is described as the "Mother of Harlots" and is drunk with the blood of the saints - link to he gets to die a saint lyrics and to Vampires (blood drinking).

Another link to catholicism is Gerard praying before various songs. He says the Lord’s Prayer during shows: “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name...”

There is also a religious reference in the Offering video: the cross the character is wearing on their back is the same cross worn by Templars during crusades (that links to the Foundations lyrics: and as you stumble through your last crusade)

Another cross, used during Crusades time, is the Jerusalem cross which is meant to represent either:

·       Five wounds of Christ

·       Christ and the four evangelists (number 4 again – as the number of members of the band)

·       Christ and the four quarters of the world

The cross bears a striking resemblence to the MCRX logo:

And to add some fun here.

To follow with the Jerusalem cross, the symbol very similar to it is the Alchemy sign which means Vinegar, linking the cross to the t-shirt from MK3:

Gerard’s vinegar shirt was paired with Frank’s shirt “Piss”. The expression “piss and vinegar” means aggressive energy.

So, the conclusion #2: we have connections to the religious side of the MCR, the otherworldy things and some connections to crusaders times where plague (”we are all plagued”) was very common. 

PS: just for funsies, we could also consider the movie Priest (2011) and the manhwa (Korean comic) of the same title to play a part in this. There were no direct references to the movie during the tour, other than that the cross the main character of the movie has tattooed on his forehead resembles the Living With Ghosts logo, but as I (Cathy) watched the movie, I couldn’t help noticing some very strange and very obvious connections.

So:

o   Priest tells the story of humanity's battle against 12 fallen angels - connection to the tour posters (angels again) + reference to catholicism 

o   The plot says about a Holy Knight named Vascar De Gullion who 'loses faith' and wanders the earth in a 'blood rage.' - references to both vampires and catholicism

o   The comic mentions order of St. Vertinez – their real name is Michael’s Sword (references to catholicism) and consists of four members (number of MCR members).

o   One of the priests of the Michael’s Sword Order first appears praying at a ruined shrine (the 2019 reunion concert took place at the Shrine)

o   Priest named Anthony loses his hand and replaces is with a hook (possible connection to Frank’s injury? that is a stretch but hey, we’re just having fun here)

o   It is important to notice that both the manhwa and the movie join all themes of the concept together - vampires, priests (Catholic references to prayers, God etc.), the war (between vampires and humans, mentioned at the very beginning of the movie) and the apocalypse (after the war). 

The universe of the movie strongly resembles Danger Days universe – there is a main Company (Church) that commands a City and expects perfect obedience from its citizens. Everything outside the City is called Wastelands and everyone living there is considered by the Church to be a disease ridden vermin. The movie mentions the War that caused the Apocalypse - a war between humans and vampires.

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2022, Day 20: Anon

I remember my trembling and quaking at the news delivered of my comrades at the banquet in Ul’dah, delivered unto fates unknown by traitorous hands and avaricious deeds. Powerless to help, marooned on an island forged by mine own inept skill in the social graces, the Waking Sands did act as naught more than my tomb, it seemed. Moenbryda, my closest friend, gave her life for our cause, and in return, I brought little more than my duplicitous recourse with the Ascian Elidibus.

Books had long been my company, yet little could there be to savor without thee.

My dearest Thancred.

I would lay in bed, my thoughts twixt mourning my dear Moenbryda, and mourning thee. Nay, I must resist, I would think, for thy status was yet unknown. So long as a glimmer of hope yet remained, I would chase it.

I would see thee anon.

—————

I remember when our dear friend, the “Crystal Exarch”, G’raha’s clever disguise, snatched thy soul from thy body and transported it to dimensions yet unknown. Though mine other comrades yet remained, there was yet a stinging sensation in my heart. Once again, I should lose thee to a fate I dare not reach, a world I never thought possible.

Then I succumbed to it as well.

I woke up, bare as the day I was born, the embarrassment and sheer disappointment writ plain on the Exarch’s face as he hurriedly draped mine and Y’shtola’s shame with some blankets.

“Please, accept my most humble apologies”, he offered, “I’m afraid you weren’t quite the person I was looking for.”

“So this was an accident?” Y’shtola inquired.

“Indeed. I had tried to bring your other friend, your “Warrior of Light” as you call her.”

“We are not the first thou hast brought here?” I asked.

“No. There was one other. You might know him. Thancred Waters?”

That name made my heart sing with the choirs of angels on high. “Yes”, I replied, “Verily, I do know that name.”

I would find thee anon.

—————

I remember the Empty, a barren wasteland choking on stagnant light aether. We had only just wrought water aether from the Lightwarden Eden, and we thought it prudent to rest. The rains were pouring and I retreated to safety in my tarp-protected tent.

As I laid in my tent, I heard the most unfortunate clatter outside. I poked my head from my temporary abode and witnessed the ruins of a tarp rendered futile.

“Damn it all”, thou grumbled as thou had attempted to resurrect it from its pointlessness. A few minutes passed before thou threw the stake that held thy tarp down upon the ground.

“Thancred?” I called.

“Yes, Urianger?”

“I have a surplus of space within my tent if thou should have need of it.”

Thou sighed. Thou toldest me, “Well, if we hadn’t just reintroduced rain to this part of the world, I would probably just lie down under the stars. Seeing as how I’m sopping wet now, it seems I have little choice.” Thou grabbed a bag from under the remains of your abode, ran towards my open tent and crawled inside. “Thank you, Urianger.”

“‘Tis my pleasure to aid thee. Art thou not cold?”

“Indeed I am. Thankfully, I brought my spare clothes.” Thou had begun the process of removing thy old wet clothes, and I felt a heat wash over my visage. Shirtless, thou had laid bare the remains of thy near death battle with Ranjit. I did remember when we had found thee unconscious on the ground where the battle took place. Thou did well. Thou frightened me down to my bones. When thou had opened thine eyes, relief washed over me in a greater force than even the most turbulent of ocean waves.

“Thancred?”

“Yes?”

“Dost thou still feel the pain of it?”

“Of?”

“Thy near perilous encounter with Ranjit.”

“Oh, that.” Thou sighed. “Every now and again, it comes back. I’m pretty sure it’s just my old age catching up to me.”

“Thou art hardly old, my friend.”

“How old are we?” Thou asked, “We have been here for five and three years, but we haven’t had our bodies.”

“Perhaps we shall measure this more accurately upon our returns to our mortal coil.”

Thou smiled. “Perhaps you’re right. I just feel older.”

“Thy scars shall disappear once we awaken in our bodies. As Dia put it, Krile careth for us even now.”

“Hm.”

“Is aught amiss, Thancred?”

“No, just…” Thou hesitated.

“Whatever thou may worry to say, my friend, pray set it aside. Thy words shall be kept in my strictest confidence.”

Thou gave a small laugh. “Well, I do know you’re good at keeping secrets.” Thou shook thy head. “It’s Ryne.”

“Oh?”

“I know perfectly she can take care of herself. She’ll be fine, and I know she’ll be fine.”

“Then what ails thee?”

“I…I don’t want to leave her.”

“Ah”, I said, “Thou shalt miss her dearly.”

“Is it wrong for me to think of her as the daughter I never had? That child I rescued from Vauthry’s prison? The way I pulled her about here and there, taught her how to work with knives, kept her at arms length for so long, dragged her into a world-saving endeavour, I would think that I’m a terrible father.”

“And though thou had issues before, doth thy initial inhibitions hold thee back now?”

“No. Far from it. Now that I’ve made myself closer to her, it feels like I’ve made a huge mistake, but it’s the happiest mistake I’ve ever made.”

“Whence doth this notion that closeness with someone should be construed as a mistake come?”

“From the fact that once Beq Lugg finds a solution to get us home, I’ll have to leave her, and likely never see her again.”

I shook my head at thee. “Thou this may be true, is it not the fine memories that thou makest with Ryne what is most important? What make what we endeavour to do here matter all the more?”

“I suppose.”

“And verily, thou may never see her again, but I would not grow disheartened so easily. Thou art not the only one who gained a dear companion from this world, and I do believe that so long as our comrades hold that love close to them, there shall be a way back here yet. One that doth not require immense sacrifice.”

Thou smiled at me. “Thank you, Urianger.”

I placed my hand on thy shoulders. “Think naught of it.”

Just as I began to remove my hand from thee, thou begged, “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“This going to sound strange to ask, but…er, never mind.”

“Thancred, please. Is there aught I can do for thee?”

I could feel thy heartbeat quicken from my position. “Could you…keep that hand there?”

“Oh.” Perhaps thou may have heard the nervous tone in my voice when I answered, “Of course.” I replaced my hand and heard thou say, “Thank you. It’s…been a while.”

“Since?”

“Since anyone’s touched me gently.”

I should not have been so bold, but I began to rub thy back. I felt the bumps of scars past and poking bones from my body under my skin. I should not have been so bold as to take thy hand too.

Thou shot thy gaze at my attempt. But where I had expected thee to ask me to stop, you merely took thy hand and placed it upon mine. Thou moved it ever upward, and grew closer to me.

“Is this…wrong?”

“No”, I answered with a low voice, “Far from it. Whatever we may lose from this world when we make our return to the Source, we shall still have this. We shall still have one another.”

Thou placed thy head in my chest. I held thee close as thou gripped my side.

“I really needed this. I’m sorry to impose.”

“Thou dost not impose when thou approachest me in this manner. I’m happy to hold thee.”

‘Twould not be long.

I would kiss thee anon.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #thancred waters #urianger augerelt #thancred/urianger #writing #fanfiction #well i did say i wanted to try my hand at this #but dear god this in long form? #oof #maybe

[08-atul-status-door]

Ek Dost jo kafi hai mere liye✍️ Guy's like💖 & share✨ this... . . #dosti #love #friends #friendship #instagram #yaari #dost #friendshipgoals #india #shayari #dostiyaari #trending #instagood #yaar #likeforlikes #bestfriends #followforfollowback #life #like #friendsforever #follow #status #marathi #yaariyan #friendshipquotes #poetry #pyar #viral #pune #lovequotes (at दोस्तिया) https://www.instagram.com/p/CooeAFpPqA_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#dosti #love #friends #friendship #instagram #yaari #dost #friendshipgoals #india #shayari #dostiyaari #trending #instagood #yaar #likeforlikes #bestfriends #followforfollowback #life #like #friendsforever #follow #status #marathi #yaariyan #friendshipquotes #poetry #pyar #viral #pune #lovequotes

[opily-zajic]

Včera jsem asi poprvé za jednadvacet let svého zoufalého života zažila něco, co bych mohla nazvat rozchodem - pokud tedy to, co mezi námi bylo, můžu vůbec nazývat nějakou formou randění nebo chození. 

Nenávidím sebe, nenávidím toho druhého a ze všeho nejvíc nenávidím tuhle bezvýchodnou situaci. Hodinky mi hlásí, že zaznamenávají cvičení, a já nasraná kráčím z vlakové zastávky a z celého srdce dupu a prázdně řvu všechny ty metalové texty, které sice znám zpaměti, ale které mi do tohoto momentu připadaly tak zábavně a absurdně agresivní a sprosté, abych je někdy upřímně zpívala. Jdu vesnicí za svitu nově zavedených pouličních lamp a všude kolem mě je ticho, musím si zvedat sukni, protože dělám příliš dlouhé kroky, nakopávám všechny kameny po cestě se svými kovovými špičkami a musím si utírat oči, protože skrze ten rozmazaný pohled nevidím ani na cestu. Jsem agresivní a sprostá. Protože brečet jsem už zkusila. Jsem agresivní a sprostá, protože za to ani jeden z nás nemůže, a tak jsem agresivní a sprostá tak nějak z principu, abych ze sebe dostala všechnu tu energii, nebo prostě něco cítila, protože jsem toho doteď pociťovala docela dost a možná mi zrovna agrese pomůže se všech předchozích pocitů zbavit. 

Před vchodem do dveří se snažím uklidnit. Nadechuji a vydechuji, kontroluji svůj srdeční tep a přesvědčuji se, že to zvládnu. Po měsíci jsem se objevila doma u rodičů a stejně jako za těmi dveřmi neví, že už dávno vedu naprosto rozdílný život, tak taky neví, že je jejich dcera taky agresivní a sprostá kráva. Že je queer, pije všechno, co teče, bere všechno, co je jí nabídnuto, a chodí s lidmi, kteří jí ve tři ráno vyhazují z bytu a na druhý den se rozcházejí skrze zprávy na Instagramu.

“Holky se za komárů braly v sedmnácti, já byla v jednadvaceti už stará ženská,” zazní z mé matky a zahraje další kartu na stůl. 

“Podívej se, je to čtrnáct ku osmi. Víš, jak se to říká, štěstí ve hře, neštěstí v lásce...” zasměje se otec, míchá karty a hraje se znovu. 

Chci být agresivní a sprostá. Ale místo toho si nabídnu sýr na stole, který se svými penězi ochutnávám jen tady, napiju se vína, jehož cena byla vyzdvihována celý večer, jako kdyby mu mělo přidat na chuti a mně na motivaci tady zůstat třeba o den déle, a otevřu svůj telefon, kde už tři dny v kuse kontroluji online status jednoho velmi konkrétního kolečka na Instagramu. 

Chci být agresivní a sprostá. Ale nikdo za to nemůže - moji rodiče i ten člověk, se kterým jsem se rozešla, jsou jenom lidé. A tak můžu být agresivní a sprostá jenom na sebe. 

#čumblr #czech #zajicdenikuje