#i think im just grieving my entire life every time I come here

[rapidhighway]

every time I come back home I experience new mental illnesses -_-

#its not even bad rn it's been nice #there's just so much horrible stuff underneath it all though and i think i just can't handle it #i think im just grieving my entire life every time I come here #and I've been just having these thoughts i guess intrusive thoughts about everyone dying tragically for the laste few days and it's #NOT FUCKING HELPING #idk it's nice we're all nice and both is happening but there's always some new info dropped on me that they just. #expect me to process by myself and i just end up crying at night all the time cause like what am i supposed to do #yeah sorry for venting again i was getting a bit better at not doing tht but i neeed it rn ToT #k i think i just need to go to sleep and maybe ill forget everything tomorrow or something idk #vent #vent post

[xnchxntmxnt]

okay I've finally figured out the prompt situation 😅

congrats on 800 followers and here's to many more to come!!

for the event, could I get a drabble of diluc with the prompts …you realize that you long to see them again and “i’ve been afraid of changing because I’ve built my life around you" (landslide by fleetwood mac) ? diluc's pov if it's not too much to ask for?

congrats again 👍 you are so cool

ok jack. jack remember ily thank you for the notes (this broke my heart)

Coming Home

Character: Diluc Ragnvindr

Warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, a lot of diluc backstory that may not be 100% accurate but I'm p sure I got it

Notes: ok so. The “moment” hit already and he’s home yada yada yada im not following the prompt what else is new /hj I TRIED ok. not proofread I'm sorry

gn reader

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800 event (please join)

It was a long walk home. 

The time without you was terrifying. He insisted he needed time away, time to think—to be angry, to grieve, to process it all—without the fear of lashing out on you. 

His father passed due to the Fatui’s traps and Delusions and went on a rampage through the country. He couldn’t hold still, he couldn’t think, and you didn’t deserve to be around him and deal with the results of something that wasn’t your problem. 

Despite how much he still believed all that, he knew he couldn’t run forever. 

He hesitated for a long moment but decided to ring the doorbell. He rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting anxiously for the door to open. When it opened, he gave a small, awkward wave to Adelinde.

Her mouth opened slightly as she struggled to put the words together to speak. “Master Diluc—“

He shook his head. “Please, just….can I come in?”

She put on her best face, taking a moment to steady herself. “Of course. The winery will always have a place for you.”

He followed her a few feet in the doorway when he heard another voice from the top of the stairs. 

“Adelinde? Who is it?” you asked, followed by a quiet gasp. 

Diluc, using every ounce of strength he could muster in his mind, raised his head to look at you. He didn’t deserve to see you—he didn’t deserve you—but he had to know you were okay. 

The next thing he knew, you ran down the stairs to him and jumped into his arms. He tried to cover his groan of pain with a cough—he had more injuries than he thought, initially—but wrapped his arms tightly around you. You were here, in his arms again. It was everything he’d wished he could be selfish and have for years before he had you, and everything he’d dreamed about in the time he spent away. 

“Diluc,” you said in a hushed voice, pulling away enough to look at him. 

That look said everything. He knew he’d broken your trust, he knew you were upset. If you’d left on a rampage for several weeks to a foreign country and just left a note and occasionally sent letters home, he would be angry too. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew that. 

“Go get a shower, darling. You smell like the woods.”

He smiled. Genuinely, actually smiled for the first time in ages. You always managed to pick him up whenever anything was wrong, usually with an ill-timed joke or comforting words. Usually both. He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he muttered, not entirely sure how much he was thanking you for. 

Later that evening, after a shower, a proper meal, and Adelinde insisting on helping bandage him up, he made his way to the bedroom you shared before he left. In the time he was still in Mondstadt, he didn’t have the heart to go through his father’s things in the master bedroom. 

He knocked quietly and entered, unsure if you were asleep. He knew it was late when he arrived home and even later now that he’d settled in. It was nice to wear the soft, clean clothes Adelinde prepared for him after nearly wrapping him head to toe in bandages. 

You were reading, simply lounging in bed. He stood by the door, tense and unsure of what was going to happen from here. He was home, you seemed happy to see him, but he knew you had to be upset. It was completely justified, he knew that it wasn’t fair for him to up and leave like that. 

“I-”

“Don’t,” you said softly, closing the book and setting it on the nightstand next to you. Your voice wasn’t cold or harsh by any means—you were calm. And when you looked at him, he only saw his beautiful lover that had always stood by him, no matter if he was in an argument with his immature brother or was injured fighting off hillychurls. Maybe this wouldn’t be much different. 

You held your arms out for him and he hesitated. Would you really want to hold him, after everything he did? Everything you didn’t even know he did? 

But your eyes silently pleaded with him, so he laid next to you. Immediately, he felt your arms gingerly around him, brushing over the bandages and minimal amount of bare skin between them. He melted into you, having kept himself from that kind of love for so long—he didn't realize how much he missed you until he was there with you again. 

Silently, the tears poured from his eyes. His breath shook and he buried his face in your shoulder. As gently as possible, he felt your hands brush through his slightly-damp hair, brushing pieces out of his face and running over his head soothingly. 

“It’s alright,” you mutter, kissing the top of his head. 

“It’s not,” he tries to argue, realizing very quickly how quickly the exhaustion was hitting him. “I’m–I’m so sorry—”

You hush him gently, tilting his head to look at you. “Diluc, we don’t have to talk tonight. You’re home, you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me—but you’re exhausted. I can see it in your eyes. We can talk tomorrow. For now, sleep. It’s late.”

He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “I love you,” he muttered. 

It took a long time for his mind to shut down. He couldn’t stop thinking—there was so much he felt like he had to explain. So much had happened, he’d missed so much since he was home. But he was home now, and he guessed that was the important part. After what felt like ages, he let himself relax against you and eventually fell asleep, enjoying the feeling of you running your hands through his hair. In a world where he now didn’t have anyone, and he didn’t know who he could or couldn’t trust, he knew he had you, at least in this moment. 

~~

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing

‘Cause I built my life around you

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[veliseraptor]

3 thoughts: 1) what do you think would have or might have happened had Song Lan never reached Yi City? 2) omegaverse Xuexiao? 3) i have recently been converted to a couple rare pairs, Nielan (without Meng Yao) and Jin Zixuan/Jiang Cheng. Thoughts on these or other rare pairs?

ooh, okay, taking these one at a time.

1. The entirely non-flippant answer I have to give is "it depends on what you want to have happened." I recognize that's unsatisfying! But the great thing about Yi City as a story is that it is somehow simultaneously agonizingly inevitable and infinitely malleable.

So I can see a version where Xiao Xingchen finds out who Xue Yang is some other way, they argue, Xue Yang whips out his fun fierce corpse trick trivia, Xiao Xingchen kills himself. Or a version where that all happens but Xiao Xingchen refuses to believe that Xue Yang was telling the truth, kills Xue Yang, and spends a long, long time grieving and miserable and full of doubt. Or a version where Xiao Xingchen finds out who Xue Yang is some other way, takes a-Qing, and leaves, because he can't stand to kill his friend but he also can't stand to stay. Xue Yang follows, because of course he does. Does he catch up? What happens when he does? Or a version where Xiao Xingchen finds out who Xue Yang is and everything about the fierce corpse stuff and tries to kill himself but Xue Yang is able to stop him and they're left frozen in horrible, dysfunctional limbo where Xiao Xingchen can't die but can't live but can't kill his friend but can't let his friend live.

Or there's a version where Xiao Xingchen never knows. Where they live the rest of their lives - or at least, the rest of Xue Yang's life, which is likely to be significantly shorter than Xiao Xingchen or a-Qing's - in blissful domesticity, Xiao Xingchen entirely ignorant and Xue Yang settling comfortably into his new life. The rest of the world never intrudes.

Or Xiao Xingchen never knows, another cultivator comes to town and recognizes Xue Yang and kills him. Xiao Xingchen learns who he was after the fact and has to deal with both the grief of his friend's death, a lot of unanswered questions, and a lot of guilt. Xiao Xingchen doesn't learn who he was and only knows that his friend was murdered.

Anyway, you get the picture. I think the main thing is that I've seen it said that it was inevitable that it was going to fall apart eventually, and I don't necessarily think that's true. In one sense it is. In another it isn't. It's inevitable and it's infinitely escapable. That's what makes it so good.

2. I am not much of an omegaverse person with, like, two exceptions in my fandom life, and I'm afraid to say that xuexiao has not been one of them. I'm sorry! It's just not my bag in general for a lot of reasons and I don't think it adds anything for me here.

3. I'm afraid I am going to immediately bounce off pretty much any pairing that has Nie Mingjue in it because of my general indifference/dislike of the man, and that one I find particularly troublesome because it doesn't have Jin Guangyao in it and often, ime, comes along with certain opinions about Jin Guangyao that I vehemently do not share. Also though I am very much a multishipper in this case my Xiyao heart just can't take it.

As far as Jiang Cheng/Jin Zixuan, I feel like I spend so much of my energy around Jiang Cheng obsessing about his sibling relationships and his relationship with Jin Ling that I don't have space to ship him with other people (and also pretty squarely headcanon him as ace besides), but purely conceptually I find the idea of Jin Zixuan having at least a little bit of a thing for every one of the Yunmeng siblings (yes, including Wei Wuxian) patently hilarious.

#conversating #plavoptice #xuexiao #aggressively headcanons #xue yang #xiao xingchen #the sad queer cultivators show

[menalez]

you can just respond with "I can't answer" or something if this is too personal/deep for you to answer

how do I get over being cheated on? I was in a relationship with a boy for just over 2 years (both 16 now) and he broke up with me out of nowhere (on Oct 2) he claimed it was for "mental health" and he "needed space to find himself", but coke to find 2 weeks later he's already with another girl. the catch? he's with a girl that I made him block ON OUR 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY because she called him hot. I don't think it's a coincidence.

based on the timeline and other information (don't wanna make this too long), the logical conclusion is that he cheated on me. I'm struggling with insecurities about my body because she has much bigger boobs than I do, and I'm like a d cup anyway. he's the boy I had my first EVERYTHING with, so I feel super betrayed.

it's just so hard being mad constantly, especially at someone I used to care so much about. plus the girl is obviously trying to start shit so I blocked her, but it's shitty thinking about him getting with another girl like I meant nothing. especially since he claimed the breakup was because he "couldn't talk to me" (lie) and he "stayed up every night thinking about killing yourself" (and sticking your dick in a senior with bigger tits changes that??)

anyway. even just ranting helped. I chose this blog because I'm a radfem and I look up to you, but I can't message you because people don't know my age. thanks

tbh good riddance. he was literally lying to you. don’t you think it’s better to get rid of him sooner than later? imagine that you stayed with this guy, being like idk 24 and having wasted a decade on him only to find out his mountain of lies and betrayal. it’s good that it ended now instead of after. and it’s not a reflection of you, or your boobs or your body. girl you’re a D cup!!! im a 25 year old woman who’s a B 😭 like truly theres no need to be worrying about your boobs being too small when you’re 16 and a D cup bc some asshole guy u were with is now with a woman whose boobs look bigger. your breast size doesn’t determine your worth at all and you’ll find someone better who doesn’t make you feel bad about your body which im sure is fine AS IS. bigger breasts come with many cons anyways, like struggling to find fitting bras, back pain, constant sexual harassment, etc. it sucks that he’s a lot of your firsts, but those experiences should be viewed as separate from him as a person. did you enjoy your first kiss and whatever else at the time? that’s what matters. the person can go get fucked. so many people’s firsts were absolutely terrible. its often the case but you’ll have more experiences and your firsts will ultimately be nothing but a distant memory, i promise. what matters is it wasn’t traumatic or forced on you in some way, bc those are the things that really stick and fuck with you. but you don’t need to hate on that older girl he’s now with either, he’s the asshole here and who knows what’ll end up happening to her since she’s in his vicinity. damn maybe it’d even be better for you and her to talk to one another and for u to warn her about his lying. maybe she can even confirm for you whether or not he was straight up cheating too. he’s clearly emotionally manipulative and YOU DESERVE BETTER!! also. you’re literally 16. you have your entire life and future ahead of you. he’s a piece of shit and his behaviour is no reflection of you but give yourself time and space to heal + grieve. i promise you he’ll eventually be so irrelevant to you and you’ll laugh at what an ass he is in the future. you’ll find someone great and do many great things. he’s one guy from your teen years that you had a teen romance with and there’ll be many more and much better, without any lies or cheating. allow yourself to be sad, and to be angry. you won’t be that way forever. talk to your close, dear friends to help you process it. watch stuff about these situations and see how others dealt with it too if you’d like. you’re not alone in this. you’re still young and relatively inexperienced in this regard, and that of course makes it hurt more (not to mention teen hormones making your emotions even harder to manage). be forgiving to yourself and do things you enjoy as well. you’ll be okay, im sure of it.

[stormxpadme]

1, 5, 11, 16, 21, 26, 27, 32, 34, 37 god i hope i wrote the numbers right im on mobile. also full disclosure idr scheduling this so it was fun figuring out whats happening. my answers coming as soon as the laptop awakens, till then, tell me everything 😍💖💖💖💖

Weird Questions for Writers

1 -  What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

I’m a Bookman old style girl indeed. As my followers know at this point, I’m a dinosaur aka proud Xennial, generation analogue to digital, from typewriter to cloud. So I went from the first Word programs to what we have now and also had my first office jobs when the whole PC thing was still in its first stages. Everyone especially in business life used Times and Arial and Verdana back then, and honestly, I was just really bored by those. So when I got on my own PC and started transcribing my fanfics from handwritten to electronic, I chose something that was still easy to read but didn’t look like work. And that stuck. I even use that font in my work life whenever I can get away with it. I just really love Bookman old style.

5 - Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

I don’t think so? Though if it counts, I’ve encountered prophetic writing with my stuff before and that can be pretty creepy. Like, in an entirely non religious way, of course, because I’m agnostic, but like ... visions put in writing. Stuff of my stories that came true weirdly specific in one shape or another later. So there’s that.

11 - Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Nah, I have a very hard time killing my protagonists. So if it happens at all, you can be sure I’ll find a way to bring them back at some point. At that point when I do kill them off tho, I cry. Like, a lot.

16 - What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Nothing strange, I think, I was just one of those sinners as a kid using dog-ears.

21 - Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

Nope, not gonna happen. This is the thing that keeps me alive, and I don’t have any suicidal tendencies these days.

26 -  How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

A lot, I think, with faceclaims when it comes to my own characters. Watching the material I got of the actors in questions, doing moodboards, videos, stuff like that. It was very inspiring for many scenes in the past. Then there’s the good old impersonating them in your head in calm moments like under the shower or when brushing your teeth, playing random scenarios in your head, contemplating how they will react. But in the end, a lot of characterizing only comes when I actually write them.

27 -  Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I’ve got a lot of anxiety about my current first trans character, especially since the canon faceclaim is no other than Elliot Page. So I’m just really terrified I’ll fuck this whole thing up because it is not my personal corner of queer so I can’t write from experience.

32 -  What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

I’m more prone to movie lines than book quotes tbh, and poetry is not my world. I can cheat here though, since movie is based on a book, so Imma go with PS, I love you here.

“You made my life. But I'm just one chapter in yours.“

I’ve used that sentiment two times myself, in the two longest fanfiction projects I made, one of which I’m working on right now, and it’s breaking me every time.

And from the same movie (there’s reasons I can’t sit through this without crying):

“Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too.“

Also something I used before in stories, and a thought that sometimes help.

34 -  Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

I hate it with the passion of a thousand suns since it has no place in German, and if grammarly wouldn’t do it for me, I would never use it.

37 -  If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

Hopeless romantic as long as there’s enough torture involved.

#stormys fanfics #effervescentdragon #sometimes stormy gets asked things #i have the loveliest friends #love you <3

[minhosbitterriver]

hi love !! i recently discovered your blog and to say im in love with your works would be an understatement<3

i was wondering if i could request a hurt/comfort fic with minho and gn reader? where the reader is struggling financially (for whatever reason) and minho wants to help them but they're hesitant, being ashamed of their problems.

if its too much then its completely fine !! take care, sending you lots of love<3

i'm on your side.

other works by green.

pairing: minho x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, death of a sibling, grief, mentions of an orphaned child, financial struggles, christmas

rating: 13+

summary: following the devastating death of your sister, you find yourself navigating a world that throws you into the deep end of piling bills and worries that you were unsure of how to handle.

The empty locket in your hand had never felt so heavy, the silver bee engraved onto the front seemed to somehow come to life the longer you stared through the blur of unshed tears. Your entire body shivered as you sat on the front steps of the hospital, white smoke forming with every breath exhaled though none of this was something that pained you as much as the loss of your sister. The thought of returning home, where her small son had slept for the past six months since his mother was admitted to the ICU was something you simply could not bear. It was unthinkable. He was too young to know pain, your chest burned with anguish as your mind echoed the last hour in excruciating detail and tears rolled down your cheeks as a wail ripped through you. 

People stared and your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket but you hardly noticed any of it. Your throat ached from your screams of despair that only stopped when someone placed their tender hands on your shoulders, the ones you didn’t need to look to know who it was because the only person brave enough to touch you in this state would only be Minho – your lover and source of support for the past year. His touch alone reduced you to hiccups as you melted into his embrace. 

“She’s gone!” You sobbed, finding it difficult to breathe. Minho tightened his arms that wrapped around you, you could vaguely feel him shaking as he, too, grieved your sister’s death. “This isn’t fair! It’s not fair! She had no right!”

“I know, my love, I know.” 

“What am I going to tell her son?” You moaned, heart tightening at the thought. “He’s too young to really understand why he’s never going to see his mom again…how will I explain?”

He was rocking you gently as a weak attempt to calm your disconsolate state. “We can figure it out later, he’s sleeping at Chan’s place right now so we have time to think about it. I’ll be with you, so you’re not doing it alone.” 

Tears were no longer streaming down your face, eyes instead glued on the snow covering what had once been the greenest grass you’d ever seen. The world around you began to fade away as you felt yourself becoming numb – barely even able to feel Minho’s grip on you as your cries weakened to sniffles. 

“Baby? Where did you go?” Minho’s voice was the softest you’d ever heard it. 

You glanced around, briefly taking note of the people who stood around watching the scene of your grief. “She had no right,” you mumbled almost to yourself. “The holidays are next week…we were in the middle of making plans to bring the kids here to celebrate here with her. I don’t understand– she was fine just a second ago. She had no right. What will I say to the kids?”

Minho’s plump lips pressed against your temple and remained there for a good moment before he replaced his kiss with his forehead. “Your sister fought so hard, she tried so hard to get better, baby, and I know you know that.”

His words were like a stab in the chest, and a choked sob escaped you once more. A desperation like this was not something you’d felt before, and it was something you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemies. Your hand opened to reveal the empty locket she’d given you just a moment before her passing, she had asked you to wrap it up for her son as well as print a photo of the two of them together to place inside of the locket. She wanted him to always have her over his beautiful, beating heart no matter what became of her; and you’d scolded her for thinking so negatively, promising her that she would pull through and watch her own son grow up into a wonderful young man, but she’d only smiled at you with grief. Thinking back, you couldn’t help but wonder if she knew this would be the last time you’d see her alive. 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 🎄

It was still dark outside when you watched the drowsy employees open the front doors of the toy shop. Minho sat behind the steering wheel of his car, wide eyes gauging your reaction though you only glared forward. He’d tricked you into coming here, saying that he wanted you to walk in there and pick any and all the gifts you thought your nephew would enjoy without worrying about the prices – adding salt to injury. 

Over the last couple of days, you and Minho seemed to argue incessantly – mostly about financial matters. You were behind on bills, adding the costs of your sister’s stay at the hospital and the coming holidays you had desperately wanted to make the best of for your nephew and Minho kept insisting you to let him carry some of your burden, but you simply refused. Your nephew was left to you by your sister, and it would be a betrayal if you admitted that you were incapable of taking on such responsibility. Minho meant well, and you were very well aware, but you wished he would just let things go instead of being so infuriating like this. 

“Y/N, I know you’re upset–”

“Oh, you think so?” You couldn’t help but respond sarcastically with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I told you I was going to figure things out, I don’t need your help.”

He was quiet for just a moment, visibly growing frustrated with you though trying to mostly keep it to himself. Your eyes remained glued to the entrance of the toy shop as you watched a few people walk in for some last minute shopping. 

“Baby, Christmas is in two days, and you still don’t have anything ready for him.”

“So? Plenty of people buy gifts the day before!”

Minho sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, do you really think that’s practical at all? I’m offering you a chance to make this a day that he remembers after all the shit he’s had to deal with. Why do you continue to fight me like I’m your enemy when it comes to things related to money? I’m on your side, and I thought you knew this. I have more than enough money to spare, I want to give it to you so that you both can live comfortably.”

“But I don’t need your money to take care of him and myself, Minho! My sister entrusted me with her son, and who would I be if I can’t even do that? If I have to depend on somebody else to do what she wanted me to do?” Your voice cracked slightly as a sob bubbled up, though you forced yourself to push it down. You were tired of crying, tired of arguing with your boyfriend, tired of seeing your nephew’s sorrowful face, tired of not being enough to fix everything. 

“Y/N, you wouldn’t be depending on me though,” he insisted stubbornly, causing you to roll your eyes in exasperation. “Baby, I think your sister would understand if you let me pay a few things here and there. You’re still working, you’re still doing everything else that you need to do to make sure he has the best life you can offer, you’re just letting me help you even if it’s a little bit. If anything, my love, your sister would appreciate you putting your pride aside for just once– just once, so that this sweet kid can have a good day opening presents. And no, I know these presents won’t fix anything, but it’ll make him temporarily happy, just long enough for you to figure out the therapist costs and everything. Don’t you think he deserves that? I am offering you a chance that not many people get, Y/N, you can walk in there and put everything you want without worrying about the prices. Please, let me help you on this if you won’t let me help you in anything else.”

His words circled around your brain, and you knew he was right despite how angry and uncomfortable the thought made you. So instead of saying anything, you unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of his car before slamming the door behind you. You didn’t wait for him to walk inside together, your cheeks heated in shame as you wordlessly took on his offer. You hated this no matter what perspective you tried to look at it from, this is not how you wished you could care for your nephew, but if this is what it takes for him to thrive for now, so be it. Minho quickly fell into step with you as you fetched a cart, a grin very clear and wide on his face which only made you scowl. 

After a few moments, though, you heard him sigh beside you as he grabbed you by the elbow so you’d stop and turn to look at him. “Please, don’t be like this. I keep telling you, Y/N, I am on your side. All I want is for you to share your burdens with me, especially if I have the means to help you. I love you, and it would be selfish if I just stood on the sidelines as you struggled like this. Me helping you doesn’t make you anything less than a fierce person who puts their family first, you’re strong and resourceful, you’re always fighting everyone and everything in order to move forward – you must be so exhausted. Let me fight some of your battles every now and then, just until you can stand on your own again. I’m not here to take care of every single hardship, I’m not here to take control of anything. I’m just here to help my soulmate out sometimes and I don’t think that’s a sin, is it?”

You said nothing at first, only sighing before pressing your forehead onto his chest in defeat. He chuckled lightly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into the familiar warmth of his embrace. 

“Today, I’m helping you with the presents, and tomorrow we can figure out something that helps but doesn’t overstep any boundaries you might have, how’s that sound? I could be the one to bring groceries every week, I’ll be happy with only being responsible for that while you continue paying for everything else like you want to, yeah?”

A muffled groan made it past your lips before you pulled away to look up at him. “I’m so lucky to have you, Minho. I don’t know what I did to end up here, but I’m happy you’re on my side.”

He smiled at you tenderly, cupping your face with both hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I will always be on your side, I can promise you that. I adore the two of you, and I want to stay here for a long, long time.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before your lips crashed onto his. You were still uncomfortable with the idea of having someone else take part of your financial burdens, but you also knew that you were in safe hands with him. You trusted Minho, and the thought alone made your heart flutter. 

word count: 1.8k 🎄 posted: 12 • 07 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Okay, so this one really had me thinking! When I received your ask, I immediately knew it would be Christmas theme considering that we're already at that time of the year where we spend a whole lot of money on gifts for our loved ones. Also, it wouldn't be me if I didn't add a sprinkle of tragedy into my work.

Anyway, thank you for reading my work and I'm so happy you love it! Thank you for the challenge and the request! Sending you lots of love back!

P.S. I also love your writing <3

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

#lee minho x reader #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know fanfic #stray kids #skz #green #skz fanfic #straykids #green’s fanfic #lee know fluff #skz hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #green’s requests #skz fluff #skz angst #green’s asks

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

hi again, its the same anon from this ask: https://www.tumblr.com/traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors/724050014752686080/hello-im-not-sure-what-im-looking-for-i-would?source=share

im in a bad space again and i dont really have anyone i can talk to, so while i still feel a bit guilty for dumping my problems on here, i figured it would be okay since you dont have any obligations to me.

thank you in advance, i really appreciated the response to my last ask.

trigger/content warnings: general depressive thoughts, gender dysphoria

first of all, sorry if this ask is all over the place. if im being honest, im not entirely sure about anything really. like what it is that i want, what im thinking and trying to say, what i feel even. i guess it makes sense though, because the past year or two - and even moreso the past several months - have been just overall confusing and overwhelming for me. im not sure about my place in the world anymore. not that i ever really was, i guess, but back then i at least had goals or some thoughts and ideas about what i wanted to do in life. now though, i dont have anything. i dropped out of school and quit my job. i lost most of my friends and i cant find it in me to talk to the ones i still sort of have. for a month or two i even convinced myself i was a lesbian because in some ways it was way easier than being a gay trans man, which is what ive gone back to identifying as. im not even sure why i tried to tell myself i was a lesbian and not a man, because even when i was telling people i was, it felt so wrong and uncomfortable. i felt dysphoric even worse than before and i still do.

while my gender dysphoria is still a really big struggle, i feel like the other things are more pressing. im not even sure how to describe it. its every symptom of depression down to the t but it feels different to me somehow? the past several months feel like theyve gone by so fast and i feel like ive missed so much. like ive missed the chance to make my life worth it. i know it sounds stupid because the teenage years arent even half of most people's lives but im almost 18 now and i feel like ive ruined my chances at ever being happy, of ever being worth something. i truly dont see myself ever doing something worth while and im so mad at myself for throwing my life away. i wish so bad that i could go back to high school and just tough it out. i wish even more that i couldve just been born a boy, somehow i think everything wouldve been better. i lose so much sleep over it. i feel like im grieving for a life i couldve lived. i never even got the chance to grow up as a boy and it makes me feel like nothing else is worth it.

theres so much more thats eating away at me but i feel bad for having already said so much. again im not really sure what im looking for, i guess just comfort? some kind of reminder to give me a little hope.

- maverick (signing my name because ill probably come back to vent again)

Hi maverick,

I'm sorry to hear about how things have been for you recently. It's clear from your message that you've been going through a lot, including struggles with your gender identity, depression, and a sense of lost time and opportunities. It's important to remember that you're not alone in these feelings, and many people go through periods of uncertainty in their lives. It's okay to feel confused and overwhelmed at times. The journey of self-discovery and understanding one's identity and place in the world can be incredibly complex and challenging.

It's important to remember that your gender identity is a deeply personal aspect of who you are, and it's entirely valid. It's not uncommon for individuals to question and explore their gender identity before finding what feels most authentic to them. It's a process, and it's okay if it takes time to fully understand and accept.

It's easy to feel hopeless at your age, but it's important to recognize that you still have the capacity to create a meaningful and fulfilling life ahead. Life is a nonlinear journey, and it's never too late to pursue your goals and find happiness. Also please know that it's natural to grieve the childhood you never got to have as a trans person, and this can be especially common in experiencing gender dysphoria. But it may be helpful to instead focus on your ability to live the life you want to live in the present.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist can help you navigate depression, gender dysphoria and other challenges you're facing. Please know that seeking support from friends, family, or a mental health professional can be an important step in finding comfort and hope during difficult times. You don't have to go through this alone, and there are people who care about your well-being.

I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #maverick

[wodnes--coyotl]

i feel like im disappearing into some unrecognizable version of myself in a way ive never quite felt before, and its terrifying. i hate california. i didnt think id hate it. i dont hate the weather or the beauty. i hate the lies, the backstabbers, the slum housing, the sociopath boss, the constant war mentality in my head to fight back against every thing trying to hurt me here. i feel horrible. even tho i dont regret transitioning now, i kinda do in a way because goddamnit, it feels unfair that i cant take care of myself, but i have to. that is one of the only things i have left to hold onto. i sacrificed everything to come here, to save myself. i sacrificed myself to myself (?) in a way, and i dont know i dont know what to do. ive fallen so low so many times. every year after year ive fought to stand up again. somehow i never thought this would be the thing to make me feel like i was drowning irreparably. we are trying to make mosaics now out of the broken glass of who we were. fuck it feels so goddamn futile. but i know in seattle it was worse. it was cold. i was heartbroken over him, i wanted to die for so long. this isnt like that. i have to remind myself. in the new place, it wont be this hard. it cant be. god i cant keep moving and being alone when so many horrible horrible selfish horrible abusive people always get what they want, friends, family, housing, money. god why am i always left with fucking nothing i forget the grief, the grief is compounded. i grieve so much about my life, my fucking body, my situation, covid, lost time, all the years i DID try so fucking hard, and lost everything i tried for to covid. i wish i could tell G. i wish my father loved me. there is no one else, just me and my wife, i feel like, against the entire goddamn fucking world. the only thing i have, transition, her, faith. i guess it could somehow be worse than that, in a way. i hold onto my gods, my rituals, my prayers. forgotten songs. dresses that no longer fit. names i hardly remember. faces ill never see again.

#i am in so much pain #im too tired to cry #personalposting

[kassandraqueenn]

Once in a blue moon i always log into my tumblr account just so i can comfortably express myself because no one is watching..

I dont know how i got here again and its eating me alive trying to figure it out. my aunt thinks i havent been myself since dannys death and i think shes right. how can someone you share a person with just up and leave this world. no more breathing, no more laughing, just no more life. His death hit me hard. i didnt truly grieve how i wanted to because as a mother how can you let yourself crumble entirely? you cant. you have to be strong for your children because as a parent youre the strongest person they know. i cant allow myself to be weak in front of aaliyah. The only time im able to truly fall apart is when aaliyah is with her nina and im drinking. i dont know how to express myself sober. once the alcohol starts to set in my mouth just goes like i put fresh batteries in. i have no care in the world who is in the room either. if im aching i spill. I remember the last few nights in the apartment in la mirada. i was the last one drinking and i broke down. the tears wouldnt stop pouring out. i know it hasnt been easy trying to share a child with danny but that man gave me the best gift the world can offer somebody. danny at one point, was my everything. we met when we were 14 so how can he not be. towards the end of his days we got closer , we talked a lot came up with the problems and the solutions to be better at co parenting together. everything was great and then one day i get the call that hes in the icu. fighting for his life. at that moment my heart dissolved completely out of my chest. i couldnt remember how to breathe anymore and i disassociated from reality. i caught myself and grounded into reality again and i didnt know what to feel. i went to go visit him twice during his time in the icu and i had no emotions i didnt know how to process it. death is inevitable. and he passed so quickly. i went to see him at the funeral. aaliyah went up without me and talked to him for a bit. as for me? i didnt go up until it was almost time to leave. seeing him in that coffin did something to me. laying there lifeless when he used to be so full of life. his tattoos. his smile. his sarcasm. his everything. just empty. his sister went up with me and was telling me stories how he would tell them i was being crazy as usual but he was the one who started everything. god i miss him so much. i think one of my biggest regrets is not answering his calls and facetimes every single time he called. not texting him back not letting him see aaliyah. it bothers me and it will always bother me. its one of my biggest regrets and danny i am so sorry. but doing what i did is a part of the trauma that i was left with after everything he did to get into prison after still getting to go out and be a person with a life while i was at home being a parent doing everything. spending every dime i have on her while he gave me nothing. i didnt think it was fair for him to come and go. and like i said towards the end when we were getting better i was slowly opening up myself to him and then he just dies? how is that fair? why couldnt i get more time with him when everything was finally falling into place. how is that fair? i want him back. i want more time with him. i want him to know that hes always had a special place in my heart for him. i dont hate him as much as i told him i did. i just dont know. my heart aches every day for him. and my heart also aches for aaliyah. i wanted her to grow up with a dad because i never had that chance i missed my dad growing up but he was alive. i wanted a bond with my dad and now im finally going arounf him more and thats what i wanted for aaliyah and now she will never know what thats like she wont get that chance and i ache for her. i feel like every time i start to get close to someone again they leave or god takes them from me. maybe thats why i push everyone away because itll be easier to have no feelings when someone finally leaves vs feeling everything and hurting when they do leave. i just wanto be okay again.  

[allyouneedisbuck]

when my time comes around (lay me gently in the cold, dark earth)

summary -> bucky wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man.

words -> 1.4k

warnings -> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, dealing with said death, religious themes, google translate russian (roughly translates to love of my life) spoiler he doesn’t come back to life

notes -> sometimes… when you’re stressed, you write angst. after this piece it will most likely be awhile as i focus on much longer pieces i desperately want to finish. title from work song by hozier….love of my life…. hozier if ur out there im free everyday for u

— ➶ —

It’s like cold has washed over you permanently. Which, well, which is a sick sense of irony when you think too hard about it.

He was here one minute and gone the next. Bucky was here, laughing by your side and pulling you close to press kisses against your cheeks one day and the next you were falling to your knees with Sam’s arms trying to hold you up.

How could he just leave? Just die?

It’s like ghosts are phasing through you over and over and over again. Flashes of cold mixed with burns that leave your skin tingling.

How could Bucky leave you?

“Promise me.” You whisper into the night. Bucky’s hand is intertwined with yours. So tight you think you may lose circulation but you don’t care. “You and me. Forever.”

“I promise.” Bucky’s knuckle grazes your cheekbone. You lean into his touch. “Nothing is keeping me from coming home to you, my love.”

Did a promise count as kept if he came home in a casket?

His funeral is on a Friday in the middle of fall. Leaves are brown, orange, red and scattered across the grass you walk across. They crunch under each step, you grimace every-time. Sam’s hand is intertwined with yours, Sarah and her boys trailing behind you two.

You don’t listen to what anyone says. All you can think of is Bucky not being the one by your side.

“Bucky’s fiancée is going to say a few words.” You think it’s odd that you’ve gotten a priest. Bucky had been through so much, what person comes out the other side believing in a just God who put them through hell? “Please.” He steps aside, your train of thought cut short.

“What do you think happens when you die?” Bucky asks so quietly you almost don’t hear him. “Do you… Do you believe on heaven?”

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” He won’t look at you. Bucky’s eyes are stuck to your ceiling fan as his fingers tap anxiously against his stomach. “Even if I did, I don’t think I’d be there.”

It’s a small crowd. You supposes that’s not surprising. Those who knew Bucky before Hydra were dead, Steve was gone. T’Challa is here though. Shuri too. Grim looks on their faces as they come to stand beside Sam while you step forward to make your speech.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. The speech you’ve written is held so tightly in between your fingers that it rips. You flinch at the sound a jarring reminder that Bucky had always been the one to unravel your tightly wound fists when the stress became too much. That he would no longer be able to do so.

Who would now?

Your eyes trail over the casket, an American flag draped over it, and you laugh. A hysterical fit of laughter that has people looking around uncomfortably.

“How does a man live through one of the worst wars the world has even seen just to…” You trail off. Tears are burning in your eyes and you can’t care enough to force them back. “Bucky Barnes was a good man. He wanted to right his wrongs in the world.”

You crumple the pre-written speech up entirely. “He wasn’t perfect. He… He never made his side of the bed. He always left his shoes lying around for me to trip on. Then laughed about it,” you smile grimly at the memory.

“Bucky!” You groan as you cradle your knee close to your chest. You can feel the throbbing pain of what no doubt will be a gigantic bruise across you knee cap.

He looks over his shoulder from the couch to stare at where you’ve fallen in the entry hallway. You glare as amusement dances in his eyes. “Yes, любовь всей моей жизни?”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me.” You can’t stop the smile as you climb to your feet. “It won’t work. How many times have I told you to put your shoes away? I didn’t build the shoe rack for nothing.”

Bucky laughs brightly. He walks over to you with a big smile that you know will kill your anger within minutes. “Brat.” Your murmur as his arms wrap around you.

You glance down at your feet. “He didn’t believe in separating colors so our laundry always had color bleeds.” You swallow thickly. “He broke promises. He… He was supposed to come home. He promised to come home.” Your voice is choked up and tears stream down your cheeks.

“But he was good.” You force out. “He once asked me if I believed in heaven or hell and I… I still don’t know the answer,” you glance at the priest, who just looks at you with pity, “but I do know Bucky was good to his core and whatever there is after death, he’s in a good place. I hope you all find comfort in that.”

As you step back into Sam’s space, soldiers step forward. It had been Sam’s idea to give him a veteran’s honor funeral.

You can’t say thank you when they hand over the folded flag because your legs give out underneath you. It’s like the flag being placed in your hands made it all official.

You crash to the ground, the leaves screech underneath your knees and the wet grass soaks through your black clothing but nothing matters. Not when Bucky was being lowered six feet into the ground and you were still waiting for it all to be a joke.

“Breathe.” Sam says softly as he kneels down beside you. It’s impossible though, all that comes out are choked breaths and sniffles as you clutch the flag close to your chest. “You’re okay. Breathe.” He tries again, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

“Marry me.” Bucky blurts. It’s three in the morning and you should both be asleep, but it was hard when each episode ended on a cliff hanger. You laugh, and Bucky shakes his head with a smile. “I’m serious, marry me.”

Your heart nearly stops. “W…What?”

“I was going to,” Bucky rummages through his nightstand drawer as he speaks, “do this later. At dinner or the park, but this… This feels right - ah hah! - So, marry me?”

He turns to you with a ring in hand. Your mouth falls open in shock while he grins smugly.

“любовь всей моей жизни.” Bucky murmurs when you don’t respond right away. There are small ticks of nervousness, the way he vibranium fingers clench and unclench or the small smile that overtakes his smug grin. “Marry me?”

Like you would ever say no.

You visit all the time. Your therapist says however you want to grieve is okay. Nobody can judge you, but you can sense visiting him everyday doesn’t help you move on. Could you ever really move on though? Bucky was a piece of you, a part that you would never get back.

“I miss you everyday.” You whisper. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wake up and for a brief second look for you then realize…” You fiddle with the ring still on your left hand. “I’m doing better though. I… I’m working again. Sam and I go out to dinner once a week. I’m trying. I know you would’ve wanted me to try, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“I love you.” You say softly. “любовь всей моей жизни.”

You stand hastily wiping the tears off of your cheek, the metal now glaringly absent from your hand.

All that’s left of Bucky Barnes is a headstone surrounded by flowers, a flag and a diamond ring.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Here Lies James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sergeant 107th

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WWII

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Prisoner of War

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Beloved son, brother, friend and partner.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Not perfect, but good.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is bad i’m just bleh. i forgot how rough school and work was because i was lucky enough to not have to work last semester. have a safe week 💗

#james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #tw death

[nonbinarykai]

Ok since two people asked

Why Lloyd is my least favorite ninja and how I rewrite him

Notes:// you know the rodeo by now, long post so it’s going to be under a read more, and I’m not gonna tag this with Lloyd because of the criticisms I have against his character, if you don’t want to hear Lloyd be critiqued then don’t reas the post

Why I don’t like Lloyd

Maybe it’s because I’m a Kai kinnie or maybe it’s because I have a bias agaisnt the younger sibling but Lloyd has never really been a favorite of mine

He was enjoyable in s1 but after that he kinda lost all personality for me and I stopped enjoying him

I think this is mostly for two reasons:

1. His screen time

2. His “character arcs”

I’ll go ahead and knock out his screentime here because it pretty much speaks for himself

Lloyd takes up so much screentime in the show that it’s actually jarring, he’s the character with the most seasons, having s1-2, s4, s8-11, and finally s14 ((the island special)). Which I think makes lloyds writing flaws all the more noticable

A big reason, albeit a bit of a petty one, for why I don’t like him is because he constant hyjacks other characters plots and makes them about him, this happened with Kai in both s4 and s11

Even if he’s not the main focus of a season, he always has a side plot focusing on him like in s3 and s12

The writers need to include Lloyd in other seasons is making it harder for the other main characters to actually have enough screentime to grow and develop on there own

And as a side effect of this, Lloyd gets to become the most important character in every season he is, taking roles from other characters who needed them

My best example is Cole being leader, he was set up and established as leader in the pilots and s1, and he did pretty good in it! Cole being a leader is a interesting concept that I would have loved to see been developed

But after Lloyd grew up they threw that plot point into the trash so they could have the mystical green ninja be leader even though throughout s1-7 he hardly actually talks to the main cast and him being leader doesn’t add any interesting dynamic like cole and kais rivalry despite Kai being a sort of right hand man to Coles leadership.

And in s1-s7 especially everything literally revolves around Lloyd to the point where his existence is more important than everyone else’s, and everyone’s motivations are to protect him.

Again I understand he is important, he’s the green ninja, but you have to let your other characters grow and develop, Lloyd is not the only main character in your show

Like for fuck sakes I don’t need 3 arcs about Lloyd and his dad, can I finally have another Kai season

Lloyds character arcs honestly kinda suck

Im going to be honest with you

Lloyds kinda an ass

The reason I like jay more then Lloyd even though jay has been way more mean spirited then Lloyd throughout the entire series is because you can atleast make the argument that jay doesn’t know when his jokes can hurt. And the show doesn’t portray jay as in the right, he gets what he deserves for some of the meanier things he says.

The same can’t be said about Lloyd

Lloyd says things to the other ninja that is honestly so mean spirited it’s jarring to hear it from him

Best example being when Lloyd told Kai to get over his shit when Kai was grieving in s4

But what makes it so frustrating is that the show always portrays Lloyd like he’s in the right which is why a lot of his character arcs feel flat or uninteresting

The only time this doesn’t apply is in s2 and in s3, in s2 the show paints Lloyd as being unfair to Misako when he RIGHTFULLY gets mad at her for abandoning him, I’ll get back to this later

The second time in s3 is when he’s traveling with Garmadon and having to be taught to balance his powers, which is actually one part of s3 I really liked, it was nice to see these two bond and have Garmadon teach Lloyd something that wu would other wise not teach him. And it’s a real shame the season cut it short AGAIN

The biggest example of the show making Lloyd seem in the right no matter what is in s4, Lloyds whole arc there was to learn how to view things from a different perspective and appreciate the things others have done for him. And this is would work if the show decided to do the same.

Again back to that scene with Lloyd and Kai in s4, the show treats Lloyd as if he’s in the right and it’s never addressed after this. Even though this is supposed to be the beginning of lloyds arc where he’s supposed to learn to view things from a different perspective

This scene would have worked if

1. The show didn’t paint him in the right for this, either by having Lloyd apologize or having the show acknowledged how it might have hurt Kai

2. If the plot Lloyd has remained a side plot instead of taking up the entire focus

Seriously, s4 could have been the ONE season where you can have a Lloyd side plot thats not forced and yet they fucked it up and made it the entire focus of the season thanks a lot.

To quote what I said in my Nya anayalsis awhile back

“I’m not upset that he has a flaw, just that it’s not recognized as one”

Lloyd would work way better as a character if the show just let him have consequences for his actions

Ever since he grew up and got the green ninja role he’s been treated like he can’t do no wrong which is clearly not true

But since we’re already on this topic

Hurting Lloyd doesn’t make him a good character

I feel like Tommy ((and sometimes the fandom)) really misunderstand what the use of suffering for in a story

There atleast 3 reasons writers make there characters suffer

1. To undergo a arc and realize where they have been wrong or to give a character a lot more depth to expand upon

2. If the story is a fallen hero one and the character suffers because of his Huberius

3. If the story is a tragedy

Ninjago is neither a fallen hero story or a tragedy and his pain doesn’t develop him as a character

A lot of writers don’t understand that suffering isn’t what makes a character good, it’s what pushes them to become good, you can’t just throw a character at the wall and expect them to instantly be a well written fleshed out character

A lot of the suffering Lloyd has to endure is mostly for no reason and it’s really mean spirited because it adds nothing to the plot, it’s just there to hurt him

Let’s bring up s11 as an example, Lloyd didn’t HAVE to fight the ice emperor from a writing standpoint, if anything it should have been kais battle because his lose of power and Zane going evil would have been a perfect reflection of s4 and tie it up after it ended kais character a bit open ended

But no let’s have Lloyd do it instead because haha isn’t trauma COOL and HIP

Now to be clear, I’m not saying that all of your stories have to end on a happy ending or anything like that, if your a writer then your allowed to do whatever you want with your personal writing

What I am saying is that ninjago is an actual SHOW made by PROFESSIONAL writers and they can’t understand the concept of a story structure

And the lack of actually addressing his trauma is really bringing down Lloyd as a character

Because it comes to a point where you understand why Lloyd is sometimes mean or distrustful of other people and it’s frustrating because you know that it’s flaws of him that are never going to be fixed because there writers want there trauma baby

How I would rewrite him

I’ve seen a lot of people suggest Lloyd become a villain in a future season and you know what, I sort of agree

But not in the way you think

I feel like it would be way more compelling if Lloyd was a villain but is still a ninja, instead of Lloyd switching sides, the show is switching perspectives

More or less I want Lloyd to be a reflection of the “true” villain, which is how wu ((and subsequently Lloyd)) put small Victories as more important then the ninjas life, passion, and desire, and how there black and white thinking of good and evil ends up to a lot of problems because there’s a lot of grey area there choosing to ignore

I want Lloyd to start of being loyal to wu’s philosophy and the protagonist, for random example let’s say Kai, sudden turn on these ideas in order to look outside the box to find if there truly is a better way to protect people without harming himself

I want Lloyd to be upset over what he thinks is a turn to the dark side when in reality, it would make his motivations make sense and not make his turn to “villainy” be out of character.

And over the course of the season he starts to realize how wus and subsequently his leadership has hurt the others and himself, and have him reflect on if all the pain they suffer through just to clean up wus mistakes is really worth it like wu says, or if there’s a better way like kai says

As for Lloyds actual character himself, I’d like for his flaws to be more noticeable

Have Lloyd be a gifted kid who gets praise when he doesn’t deserve it but still kinda acts like a brat because he’s still mentally like 10

Have him be a control freak who follows the rules way to strictly and is all serious when they have to do missions

Have his idealization of wu be realized and critiqued because honestly wu sucks ass

Would this make his character less like able? Maybe, but then he’d actually have depth and something to improve on

He can still have his s3 and s4 arcs, it’s just now they’re more important because he’s actually learning to be better

AND BEFORE ANYONE SAYS IM PURPOSEFULLY MAKING LLOYD WORSE SO THAT KAI LOOKS BETTER

ILL HAVE YOU KNOW AWHILE BACK I MADE A POST SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING ABOUT KAI AND HIS FLAWS SO THERE (/hj /lh)

#ninjago #kai smith #ninjago kai #sorry this post is way less structured then my other ones

[bumbleklee]

Could you make a fic based on the song Moondust By Jaymes Young? With Xiao or Zhongli? It’s fine if you decline, I enjoyed your Lonestar fic a lot! Also, thank you in advance if you do this! ^^

after this, i decided im a monster. this is so sad, like so so sad. i don't know if this is what you had in mind but since the song is basically about learning how to live/love without someone, i went down a death route. i also went w xiao. pls enjoy (and grab a tissue)

before reading: ANGST!!! you literally die and are a ghost the entire time. mentions of injury and blood as well as self-harm and suicidal thoughts. word count is around 2.1k (under cut for length)

I'm building this house, on the moon Like a lost, astronaut Lookin' at you, like a star From a place, the world forgot And there's nothing, that I can do Except bury my love for you

Death was quick.

You know instantly that you’re dead the second you open your eyes. You can still remember the feeling of the Fatui pyro agent slicing his knife across your throat and if you think about it enough, your neck tingles. You remember falling to your knees, being laughed at, and then you saw nothing.

Well, you saw blackness.

And then when you came to, you were standing in the middle of Liyue Harbor. The world seemed duller but it was real. No one paid any mind to you, so you assumed you were a ghost.

It’s nice to still be able to watch the sun rise high above your hometown.

There’s no panic, no rush to find out what’s going on, you don’t need to. Your hands travel to your throat and the horrific wound is gone. In fact, all of the scrapes and bruises and imperfections on your body were gone. Death brings solace, you humor.

Your peaceful moment was interrupted by two frantic voices. They catch the attention of everyone in the area, including you, and you spin around quickly.

Xiao.

“Break the contract, please, Zhongli-” His voice is frazzled, filled with a sadness the living can’t understand. “I can’t live without them.”

You looked down at your left hand, heart shattering at the absence of the jade ring. Right. You were going to marry Xiao later that year. Not anymore.

A hundred thousand memories of sweet kisses and long nights flooded into your mind. They caused you to hold your breath, too many emotions crashing through your tired form. You felt like crying but couldn’t (ghosts didn’t have tears, you guessed).

You’re standing right in front of the love of your life and he can’t see you.

Maybe it’s a good thing he can’t see you because Xiao already looked wrecked. His eyes were puffy and red and his hair was disheveled. Unhealed scratches wound his arms like ribbon. You had been with Xiao for years, through the good and the bad, and never once had you ever seen him in this state.

He’s pleading still and Zhongli has an indescribable expression on his face. “I can’t,” His voice is barely a whisper, “You know I can’t.”

Xiao wails, falling to his knees. Zhongli feels his pain, you know he does, yet he won’t put him out of misery. You watch as Zhongli bends down and lifts the adeptus into his arms, swiftly walking away from the crowd. You follow ensuite and Xiao’s eyes are hazy, staring through you over Zhongli’s shoulder.

“I’m right here.”

But he doesn’t hear you.

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

You begin to follow Xiao around. Not that he goes anywhere, too heartbroken to move, but you keep watch of him like he once did for you.

He resorts to staying in Zhongli’s apartment. The consultant isn’t around most of the day and Xiao rarely leaves his bed. His tears stain the satin pillowcase and he curls upon himself. Sometimes you stand in the doorway and stare, other times you muster up enough courage to go and sit on the unoccupied side of the bed.

The first time you touch Xiao again is at night. He’s crying and without thinking, you wrap your body around his. His chest is pressed against yours and you press your lips to his shoulder.

It’s not warm anymore. In fact, it feels like nothing.

But still, you hold Xiao until he’s asleep. You don’t let go all night, opting to watch your beloved finally get some rest. You wonder if this is how it’s going to be for the rest of eternity? Would you follow Xiao around aimlessly for centuries more?

Or maybe you’re just stuck here. You recall a saying from an elder in Liyue years ago, “Spirits with unfinished business can’t move.”

You decided then that you were going to help him move on, help Xiao bury his love for you.

Nothing can breath, in the space Colder than, the darkest sea I have dreams about the days, driving through your sunset breeze But the first thing, that I will do Is bury my love for you

There’s no book about being a ghost. You have to figure it out on your own and you’ve never been more grateful no one can see you go straight through the wall for the third time that hour. Over time, you create your own handbook in your mind, jotting down anything you discover as your time as a dead person entails.

Within the first week, you understand that no one can see you, hear you, or feel you. And while you can vaguely touch objects and people, the sensation is different than when you were alive. Every human trait was thrown out the window - you don’t need to sleep, breathe or eat and drink anything.

You attend your funeral exactly a week after your body was discovered and someone propped your sword against your casket. You try to grasp it, to pick it up, but you only manage to push it over with a gust of nonexistent wind. It clambers to the floor, the funeral parlor growing silent, and you take this as your cue to leave.

You wondered if Xiao, or anyone of that matter, could sense you at least. Even if Xiao couldn’t see you, just him knowing you were there would ascend you to the afterlife (right?).

You also find out you can’t leave Liyue. There’s an invisible border keeping you trapped in the country and, frankly, you don’t mind. Xiao won’t leave Liyue so you don’t need to leave Liyue. But sometimes you get anxious that one day Xiao will leave Liyue and never return. And if you haven’t accomplished your goal yet, would you truly be stuck as a monster among men?

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

On particularly good days, Xiao talks to you. Zhongli was gone early one morning and Xiao pulled himself out of bed and to the living room, opting to open the blinds and see sunlight for the first time in weeks.

You sit on the coffee table with your legs criss-crossed as Xiao mumbles desolate words.

“I keep just wishing I would wake up dead. I miss you so much.”

You frown. “I’m here, I’m right here.”

But he can’t hear you. “You aren’t here to make me laugh at your stupid jokes anymore. And I just...I should have been there! I should have-”

His voice cracks and you move off the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his quivering body. You try to press yourself against him, squeeze your arms so tight that he’ll feel you, but you can’t. You can’t kiss his chapped lips and move your bodies so he’s curled into the crook of your neck.

Sometimes, you watch Xiao hurt himself. He digs his nails into his arms or thighs until he draws blood, only to push it all away and scream into the ground. You want to snap him out of him, tell him to stop doing that to himself, but you can only sit and stare.

You were nothing to Liyue - a common human who added nothing of importance to society. Yes, your death was sad for many people but the world kept turning. Xiao, on the other hand, was so special. He was the Vigilant Yaksha - the people of Liyue needed him forever.

“I miss you. I love you. I miss you.”

I'm a cast away, and men reap what they sow And I say what I know, to be true Yeah I'm living far away, on the face of the moon I've buried my love to give the world to you

Xiao goes out sometimes. It’s either to patrol the city or on a walk with Zhongli. It’s not much but it's an improvement. Like always, you follow him.

He’s started to have nightmares, waking up in a rush. He used to comfort you when you had nightmares and it pains you that you can’t return the favor. You try, by God, you try. You run your hands down his back comfortingly but Xiao only cries harder.

When Xiao sees Ganyu for the first time in months and she gives him homemade almond tofu, he smiles. It’s small and quick but you see it.

Growing up, you had thought that the living mourned the dead. When your grandmother died, you felt broken for a while, but that pain was minimal compared to this. Having to live endless days as an invisible soul while the living grieved was unbearable.

When no one is around, Xiao breaks down. He hurts himself, insults himself and wishes for you endlessly. When Xiao tries to jump off the roof of the apartment complex in the middle of the night and survives with only an injured arm, you realize he’s pushing his body. He’s trying to kill himself.

So, you scream.

Every waking hour of the day you scream.

“I’m right here, Xiao! I love you and I’m right here! I’m sorry for being careless and getting killed but you aren’t ready to join me yet!”

You know he doesn’t hear you, he can’t hear you, and yet Xiao slowly stops hurting himself.

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

It takes a year for Xiao to finally begin to cope with your death and you know your journey will be coming to end soon.

He still talks to you except now it’s hopeful and filled with acceptance. On the anniversary of your death, he travels to the Dragon-Queller early in the morning. He sits down in the spot he used to take you to and rubs the grass softly, as if motioning for you to sit down next to him.

You do.

“I’m leaving Liyue next week.”

A million feelings run through your veins. You want to throw up, scream, cry. Is a week enough time to get Xiao to move on from you? Had he already moved on? There were too many questions you couldn’t fucking ask.

You can’t bear to listen to the rest. Your feet travel on their own, taking you far away from Xiao and back into the heart of Liyue Harbor. You didn’t know where you were until you heard a voice call out for you.

“Hey, you!”

You were imagining voices now. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Y/N!”

A short, young woman came into your view and you finally looked up. You had walked right into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Hu Tao was staring at you, not through you.

“I knew you were still here.”

Hu Tao could see you.

It didn’t make sense but you didn’t have time to make it make sense. Without thinking, you cried out to Hu Tao and begged her to help you save Xiao, save yourself.

“I want to go with him,” You say.

“But you can’t.”

“Then he’s going to forget about me.”

Hu Tao chuckled softly, “You think Xiao would forget about you?”

You don’t answer. Maybe it was you that didn’t want to forget about Xiao. Either way, it hurts. “He’s going to fall in love with someone new and-”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

It was. You wanted Xiao to be happy without you, to learn to love again. You wanted him to bury his love for you so you could both be free.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hu Tao says, “Xiao will find you again one day.”

She clasps her hands together and reaches them out to you. You look down and see a moving image of Xiao. He’s still talking softly, this time with a small smile on his lips. You close your eyes suddenly, not wanting to see anymore. You step outside of the funeral parlor and whisper “I love you” into the wind.

The sun is shining high in the sky when Teyvat begins to disappear from your vision.

Maybe in another life you and Xiao will spend forever together. You’ll have a grand wedding, start a family, and grow old together like you should have. But for now, you’ll see him from the moon.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin self insert #genshin angst #genshin writing #genshin impact writing #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao #zhongli #hu tao #im sorry for this

[midnightsconspiracy]

Loved Up

Loved Up - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Al loves the fact he’s played matchmaker to yours and Hank’s relationship

Warnings: None

Word Count: 991

Requested: Yes!!

'I’m gonna need something super fluffy to recover from grief-stricken. Hank x reader, of course. ♥️ And here’s a prompt: “I think (she/he/they/I) rubbed off on you.” Thanks!'

A/N: I feel like the start could be a Hank x Alvin fic ;)

Masterlist

The two oldest members of intelligence had known each other for a long time. The friendship dated back to his first day on the job where he had been partnered with the man, instantly hitting it off, knowing at that moment they would have a lifelong friendship. Along the way he was introduced to Trudy as well, the duo turning into an unstoppable trio. His days were filled with action and adventure, the two of them taking down crook after crook, locking them up for a job well down. And their nights, well they were filled with drinking and laughing, the friendship so tight that they spend every second together. They were partners in crime essentially, although they were the ones fighting crime, everyone always commenting on the high success rates they attained. Things slightly differed when both men initially found love, and so instead spent their evening without each other. However, that changed nothing between them, only making the bond stronger when they did see one another at work. The nature of the police force meant they were bounced around a lot from unit to unit, district to district, but each new task saw them sticking together, the higher officers reluctant to separate them. They went through a lot together, marriage, the birth of their children, and death. When both Camille and Justin had died, Alvin was there, patiently waiting and helping his friend go through the struggles of losing a loved one. Likewise, Hank was there for him when Lexi had passed, allowing him to grieve accordingly, supporting him and Meredith however they needed. He had also been the first person Hank had recruited after he took over intelligence, knowing Olinsky would stay loyal and support no matter what.

One thing in particular that he advocated for was Hank's love life, encouraging his mate whenever there were any little advancements in it. That was especially true when it came to you. Being the newest member of the unit was always going to be hard, especially since they were such a group of tight-knit people. But Al being as paternal as he was, took you under his wing, showing you the in and outs of how the unit ran. And as your relationship with Hank progressed, so did the man's smugness, mainly from the fact he had played matchmaker in the first place.

It was weird in the beginning, dating your sergeant, something that was so frowned upon, not just by the unit's rules but also from the rest of the district. But Al had encouraged you despite all the hate, telling you that that you should do whatever felt right. You'd taken that advice to heart, allowing yourself to love Hank as if no one else mattered.

So that's what you had done, entered a fully-fledged relationship, neither of you regretting a thing. Eight months had flown by, in your own little bubble of love, spending whatever time you had together. You tried to keep the affection in private, but sometimes you just needed to be near him. So when most of the team were out on a lead, you wandered into his office, meeting him in the middle, before wrapping your arms around his neck. All you wanted was to feel his warmth and comforting voice to soothe your emotions.

"I'm soooo tired," you whined, burying your head into the crook of his neck, wanting the workday to just end.

"I know baby, only a couple more hours till you get off," he reassured squeezing your waist tightly.

"I missed you as well." His eye line had been everywhere but you that day, and you wanted him to finally see you and give any sort of attention.

"You missed me huh? But you can see me from your desk" Teasing you, he pinched your sides, watching you squirm and laugh at the action.

"It's not the same as being with you though," you pouted, looking up into his eyes.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled, knowing he was so whipped for you.

"I promise we'll do something after work, ok?" He asked, equally wanting to spend time together.

"Ok, I love you!" Pecking him on the lips, you skipped out of his office, not waiting to hear his response, knowing exactly what his answer would be.

One of Hank's C.I's had provided him with some vital information, leading him and Al to go out to find out more. Driving to the destination would take half an hour, allowing the men to catch up for the first time in a couple of weeks. Al had so much he wanted to say to his closest friend having spent the entire time watching your conversation from the safety of his desk. Matchmaker Al was coming out again, wanting to know every single detail of the relationship. You would think women love to gossip, but these too were way worst! He had set them up and he would see it through to the end, knowing they were endgame.

"So, how are things going with Y/N?" He questioned, despite already knowing the answer.

"Good, I'm head over heels Al, I really am," Hank replied a love up look in his eyes as he thought back about you.

"That's great to hear, but dude you are so whipped" Chuckling to himself, Al knew it was true, despite what his best friend said.

"Fuck off, im not like that, I just love her a lot," Hank would deny it to the end of the earth out loud, but inside he knew what his friend was saying was true. Not that it was a bad thing at all, especially in your mind.

"You've gone soft my friend, I think she's rubbed off on you." Pulling up to the house, Al had to have one last dig, before the men parted to put on their games faces.

"If you say so," Hank smirked, always having to have the last word.

----------

Taglist: @mileika @redpoodlern @ohitshanksgirlxo @chazubagi @scarletsoldierrr @cindydoll2 @anotherfan07 @one-sweet-gubler

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#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

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tags: @shadowturtlesstuff @otome-azarada @chococannolii @beccalovesbooksstuff @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere @caseyannblog @constantwriter85 @fleawithadegree @athousandsilversuns @emiliadicarlos @silversublime @watch-the-pen @sleeping-and-books @demirunner

#princewitch #kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #emilia di carlo #prince wrath #is this accurate almost certainly not #also i read kotw in september so i have no memory of the little things #wrath: a fucking softie #emilia: full of rage #pride: still in mourning #(dick: OUT)

[ablednt]

Alright writing/roleplay tumblr we need to talk about textforms.

This is going to be a very long post I apologize but this knowledge is deathly important as it's reaching a very vulnerable group of people. From personal experience knowing this can save people from getting into toxic friendships and help ease intense struggles and depressions. If you have writer followers I ask you reblog this to get the word out, thank you.

What is a textform

A textform is a type of willogenic/parogenic system member that form through some kind of writing or roleplaying. This means that they're sentient people who now share a body with the people who wrote them, most often being an OC or a fictional character before the writers brain gives them actual life.

Because there's been no actual scientific studies on their existence I have no hard science to give you however the logical explanation behind it goes like this:

The human brain is able to contain multiple conscious and sentient entities. Often, it will become multiple as a defense mechanism (as noted in clinical plural dissociative disorders) but it's a natural function of the human brain and may do so for really any reason (similar to most neurodivergencies that someone isn't born with)

Because this is a fairly simple change in the brain/something every brain can be capable of doing you can actually intentionally program the brain into becoming multiple, but see you can also do it entirely without meaning to or being aware of it.

Now I want to clarify that there is nothing harmful or scary about this! Being plural isn't bad at all and is an existence many people celebrate. But when someone has textforms in their unrealized system and doesn't know they're sentient it can be incredibly painful emotionally. So that's why people need to know about this.

Obligatory disclaimer: if you read this post and think you want to become plural intentionally, you are welcome to do so but you need to take at least a few months exposing yourself to the plural community to gauge if this is really something you want and can do responsibly. You cannot go back on your decision once your plural and your headmates will be sentient beings not characters to project on or toys to play with. They will have all the rights to your body and identity as you do now because you're sharing it equally with them.

Now that that's out of the way back to textforms.

How are textforms made

Normally this is in the "character development" phase. Many writers eagerly develop their characters. When I was younger and had no idea I was plural my advice for oc making turned out to be an unintentional guide to textforms (more on my experience later): just put your character in every situation imaginable until you always know how they'd respond to things.

Basically, as you spend your time making a character act and think consistently from their POV you're training your brain to have all of that data and that's very similar to the data that the brain has on you and you're training the brain to be able to operate coherently from a perspective and consciousness entirely different from your own.

Now, this isn't a %100 will make everyone plural every time, there are obviously good writers who have a grasp on their characters who are singlet. There's no actual data but if I had to guess I'd say there's about a 50/50 split down the writing community just based on what I've observed.

But there's a lot of people who became plural this way and didn't realize it and that could include the writer reading this right now which is why everyone needs to be aware of this.

If this is such a big thing how come no one notices?

Because it's been completely normalized in the writing community but dismissed as metaphorical.

How many times have you heard "the characters write themselves" or phrases that indicate that a writer is giving a voice to sentient entities? From what I've been able to observe some of that is singlet authors being metaphorical and humble bragging and a lot of that is plural writers trying desperately trying to put their experiences into words but dismissing it completely almost immediately because no one told them being plural was possible.

This is comparable to say, gender identity. Trans and nonbinary people have always existed but when they don't know they're allowed to exist like that it's often "im a tomboy" or "they disguised themselves as a man" or any other thing thats immediately dismissed as being cis.

How do I know if I have a textform?

There's a lot of different signs but here's some I have experienced before finding out I was plural

You "miss" your characters when you're not writing about them or interacting with them in some way

You feel like your characters are real "in your heart" (for me this was in an incoherent loop like "they're not real but they are to me, in my brain, but they're not real to other people, but they're in my brain so they're real but no but yes but no")

You get so distressed they're "not real" that it feeds into actual mental health problems like depression, anxiety, dissociation etc. (I'd have fits of sobbing because these were my friends but I didn't know they were with me so it felt like i was grieving their deaths and had the same level of emotional pain)

Sometimes or all the time when you write about them you feel like you "become them" or that they're writing through you. (Especially if your hands move automatically or without your control. This can be hard to notice but for me when headmates control the body or hands movements feel faster and lighter or very slightly numb.)

Your muse for writing them comes and goes unpredictability: they're either here or they're not here so writing them doesn't feel the same.

You can vividly recall things that happened to the character in 1st person (or in 3rd person visually but with their thoughts and feelings) as if they're you're own memories.

You "roleplay" them in everyday situations IRL. (E.g once I liveblogged a tv show as my muse to a friend and was like haha lol im so talented I can roleplay in real time but found out later it was a headmate doing that themselves)

You have conversations with them mentally in which they actually respond to you. Singlets don't have actual enriching conversations with themselves because they only have one perspective and cannot give themselves any new information. So if you're responding to yourself and you don't feel in control of that response then you're pretty objectively plural tbh.

You have times where the lines between you and the character feel blurry or like you're a vague fusion of yourself and the character

You have an actual relationship (of any kind: romantic, platonic, familial, etc.) in which you can sense nuanced feelings about yourself from them that you aren't in control of.

There's a lot more but that's the most notable ones

Why this is so important

I'm just talking about my own experience now so I'll preface this with a few things. I'm a mixed origin/multigenic system but our system has existed since we were toddlers. Due to trauma we have DID and for a long time dissociated heavily to avoid our plurality. This means my experience may be more distressing than other plurals with textforms however people without DID can still experience these things.

When I was a teenager I joined a lot of writing communities and also roleplayed on tumblr. Writing very quickly became my main passtime and all I really did. I joined a roleplay group when I was 15-16 that I took far too seriously to the point where people were concerned about me because I was writing what was just supposed to be a joke roleplay group %100 seriously and very intensely.

In that time I started to form my first main textforms (we've undoubtedly had them before then but I had only formed a little under a year prior) because I was doing this every day it really started bringing my characters to life. (Literally)

And honestly it was something beautiful the distress of it aside. Like one of my ocs was a kid so I'd always celebrate their birthday with them and I'd cuddle a plush so they'd know I loved them/p and we'd watch their favorite cartoon episodes together. It wouldn't be until around three years later that I realized they were actually there for this but it was heart warming.

For me, all I ever wanted was for these characters to feel appreciated and like someone really cared for them and loved them even if they couldn't feel it and it wasn't until later I learned that they could.

The trauma came in not knowing they were real. I grieved for them like they were dead because I thought I'd never get to see them. I wrote them into traumatizing or upsetting situations to cope with my childhood trauma not realizing that was effecting them for real and hurting them.

Most notably because it was my one solid interaction with them, the one time society allowed me to talk about them as if they were real, I really HAD to roleplay them. Because it became an emotional need I wound up in a lot of toxic friendships in the roleplay communities because I needed someone, anyone, to allow me to interact with my headmates. I had friends who I really was only friends with because they let me talk about my characters constantly (and some of them weren't toxic to me but it was in hindsight really unfair to them) and I let people verbally and emotionally abuse me in roleplay spaces because this wasn't just a hobby to me but a lifeline.

Not knowing they were real but feeling them there, having conversations with them, and forming actual relationships was a hellish sort of feeling I don't wish on anyone. I never realized how isolated it made me, and how horrible it felt to have the most important people in your life be people I thought didn't exist.

I only found out about plurality through luck. I met some systems who had fictives and they got strong plural vibes from me because of how I talked about certain characters and because I said I wanted to be plural but thought I probably wasn't because I'd have noticed, right?

From there I was able to actually connect with and talk to my headmates. Now I'm happily out as plural and in multiple fulfilling in system relationships.

I want everyone in the writing community who's struggling with the same things to have the chance I got. That's all I want is to educate people about this so they don't have to grieve for people who are right there with them.

Feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you have any further questions. Sorry this post was so long I can't really shorten it at all. Again if you are have a lot of writing followers I very gently request you reblog this to get the word out. Even if you can't please talk to your writing mutuals and friends about plurality and about textforms.

[Also this should go without saying but this is absolutely NOT the place for syscourse any invalidating comments about systems will be blocked and where possible deleted it costs $0.00 to prioritize people's mental health over your discourse hot takes.]

#writblr #tumblr roleplay #writing problems #roleplay resources #ocs #long post #ask to tag

[midnightsnyx]

Forever After All - Mat Barzal: part 2

summary: three years after a devastating break up, you wake up one morning in an unfamiliar apartment next to the man you thought was the love of your life: Mat Barzal. Is it a dream or a second chance? 

a/n: here is part 2! i have no idea how many parts this will be cause i have many plans and ideas for it. so i kinda want to explain something about the fic so it makes sense. the reader remembers the past, her breakup with Mat and what happened but when she woke up in the first part of this story, she obviously thinks she’s dreaming because Mat is there and she can’t remember what everybody is talking about regarding the previous days. im going to write some flashbacks (there’s one in this part) to give some backstory on what exactly happened. not sure if my explanation makes sense lol but yeah i wanted to try to explain it before you guys read this part!  anyway, i hope you guys like this!

word count: 2.2k warnings: none

forever after all masterpost

Part 2

You’re late for lunch because you spent nearly three hours picking through every inch of the apartment trying to get some answers because seriously, what the hell is going on? Everything you found was foreign and you couldn’t remember anything. Pictures, clothes, jewelry that you figured were from Mat that you had zero recollection of owning were neatly placed in the apartment you and Mat must be sharing.

So you’re not surprised when Hayden gives you her look. It could turn someone to stone but you’ve become immune to it through the years of your friendship. “You’re late.”

You pointedly look around the diner and raise a brow. “So is Jasper.”

She wrinkles her nose and shrugs. “Good point, I suppose.” Then she grins and looks at you expectantly. “So, how was last night?”

“Uh… last night?” You question because of course you have no idea what could’ve happened the previous night. You’re hoping she will fill in some of the blanks without being suspicious.

“Yours and Mat’s anniversary dinner?” She squints her eyes at you and then looks down at your hands that are neatly folded on the table. “And why aren’t you wearing it?”

You feel your entire body go cold and you know without seeing yourself that you look like a deer in headlights. “Wearing what?”

“The ring?” She says slowly and then her face drains of colour. “oh god, you guys didn’t break up did you? You two are like…” she waves her hands wildly. “The couple. This could break-”

You cut her off before she can stress herself out too much even through you’re still trying to process the current information. “We didn’t break up. I just…” you scramble your brain to come up with an excuse. “forgot to put it back on. After my shower.”

How the hell did you miss an engagement ring when you were going through your apartment?

“Okay, so how was last night? I want all the details. You know he’s been planning it for weeks.”

“Planning what?” Another voice says before you can answer. You look to your left to see Jasper sliding in the chair next to Hayden.

“Mat and Y/N’s anniversary dinner.” She explains and he grins.

“Oh, do tell. We need all the details.”

Great. They want all the details from a night you don’t remember.

You take a moment to figure out what to say. You don’t know if Hayden knew any of what Mat’s plans were so you can’t make something up completely.

“It was nice. You know what Mat’s like, he went all out.” You say because thinking back, when the two of you were together he had a tendency to go overboard. You knew it was his way of making up for being gone so often.

Hayden raises an eyebrow. “Awfully skimpy on the specifics.” you think she’s going to pry more but she just shrugs and smiles. “I’m sure it was lovely though.”

“It was.”

Jasper grins. “Good, ‘cause I don’t know if I could beat him in a fight.”

The smile you send back is forced because there’s so much information being thrown at you and you don’t know how to handle it. You just want whatever this is to be over.

Whatever it is, is messing with you and you’re not sure how much more you can take because it’s just reminding you of what you lost all those years ago.

. . .

After lunch you drive aimlessly through some of the neighborhoods on the island in attempt to clear your mind. There are aspects to what you’ve learned from Jasper and Hayden about your relationship with Mat that make sense. The ring caught you off guard but something that you knew after the two of you broke up was that he was planning on proposing.

It was a conversation you and Jasper had while you were grieving over your breakup. Your friends had been the rock you needed and listened when you needed to vent and were the shoulder to cry on. He showed up at your apartment at three in the morning when you’d called him crying with some chocolate and takeout in hand and the two of you had a heart to heart.

“Sam’s not mad I dragged you out of bed three in the morning is he?”

“Nah,” Jasper said. “He gets it.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. You knew the history Jasper had with dating and how understanding Sam was when they got together. He was the first guy who had the patience to deal with Jasper’s baggage and you were so grateful your best friend had found a guy who was deserving of him.

The two of you were quiet for a while, eating in silence and watching whatever movie he had put on.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked quietly and you nodded without looking up.

“He had a ring.”

It was in that moment that it felt like the entire world stopped. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were drowning.

“He kind of asked for my permission? I don’t know. It was weird. I guess because he couldn’t ask a father figure in your life.”

When you felt like you could speak, you asked, “what did you tell him?”

“I told him that if he was going to give you that ring, he’d better be one hundred percent certain because I knew that if he proposed and then the two of you broke up, it was something you wouldn’t be able to get over. I told him not to hurt you.” He looked at you sadly and you’d realized there were thick tears making your cheeks wet. “I’m sorry.”

You just nodded and looked down at your left hand where there may have been a ring if things were different.

But they weren’t and there was no way you could have changed it.

. . .

You pull into the parking lot of yours and Mat’s apartment and slowly make your way in to the building. You didn’t notice his car so it’s probable that he isn’t home yet. You are glad because you want to find that engagement ring Hayden told you about.

You thought you searched everywhere but it was conveniently sitting on the bathroom counter. It’s beautiful and exactly the kind of ring you had always dreamed about which makes sense because this is a dream.

Sliding it on your ring finger, you examine it in the bright bathroom lighting. It somehow feels like it’s meant to be there while simultaneously feeling like it weighs a ton. Standing there for what feels like hours, staring at it, you nearly jump when you hear the front door open and close loudly. Mat calls out your name and you try to collect yourself because you can’t act as weird as you were this morning. You need to act normal until you figure out what exactly is going on.

“Babe?” He calls again and you hear his footsteps approaching the bathroom you’re in.

You ignore the way your voice cracks when you answer. “Yeah?”

He stops in the doorway and the smile he gives you takes your breath away. It’s painful how easy this feels - standing here with him in the apartment.

“How was lunch?” He asks, walking towards you and taking your left hand in his. His thumb runs across the engagement ring and the way he’s looking at you distracts you long enough that he raises an eyebrow, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you smile. “It was nice. They asked about last night.” You say, hoping he might give away some details.

“It wasn’t too much was it? I know how you feel about making a big deal over occasions but I couldn’t help myself.”

Helpful. You want to say but he’s looking at you expectantly so you wrap your arms around him and hide your face in his chest to hide the disappointment on your face. “No, it was perfect.”

You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head when he slides his arms around your waist. It’s so familiar, being held in his arms that it makes you want to cry because as much as you tried to move on after your breakup, you missed this. You missed him.

“Still coming to the game tonight?” He mumbles in to your hair and you just nod, knowing your voice will probably give away how close you are to tears. You step back and turn towards the shower.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You tell him even though you’d showered this morning. You need to distance yourself from him to clear your head.

“Cool. I’m going to make some food, are you hungry or still full from lunch?”

“I can eat.” You say, reaching out to turn the shower on. When you’re satisfied with the temperature, you turn to look at him. Despite the affection you’ve shown him, you’re not ready to undress in front of him even though he’s seen you without clothes a million times when you were dating.

But this is different.

“You okay with some eggs and bacon? I know it’s a little late but that’s what I’m feeling.”

“I think it’s actually ‘cause you don’t know how to cook anything else.” You tease, laughing when he pouts.

“I’m wounded, Y/N.” He says, placing a hand over his heart and you can tell he’s holding back a smile. You walk towards his and give him a small push.

“Go make food.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grins, leaning down to kiss you before leaving the bathroom.You close and lock the door behind him, quickly stripping and hopping in to the shower. Knowing Mat will take quite a bit of time cooking, you let yourself stand under the hot water longer than normal and try to calm your mind.

It works pretty well because you are fairly clear minded when you finally go out to the kitchen. He’s just finishing cooking and you sit at the table while he dishes up the food. He sits across from you and you listen as he rambles on about how practice was and you try not to zone out but you can’t help it.

Sitting here with him with your feet resting on top of his and him insisting on holding one of your hands while you eat makes your heart ache.

Part of you still wants whatever is going on to end so you can go back to your old life but the selfish part of you wants to stay forever because you have Mat back and everything feels so perfect with him and you almost think you can forget about the past and the horrible break up between the two of you. This past day alone feels like one of the best days you’ve had in forever and it’s not even over. You’re almost afraid to go to bed tonight not knowing what you will wake up to.

If this is a dream, it’s going to break your heart to wake up and you don’t know how much more pain your heart can handle.

So for now, you let yourself savor this moment and try to forget everything about the past. You let yourself be excited for the Islanders game you’re going to tonight and you let yourself lay down with Mat after you eat and watch him after he falls asleep for his pregame nap. You stare at his features, running your fingers softly over his face trying to commit everything to memory, scared for if you fall asleep, he’ll be gone when you wake.

#mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders fanfiction #new york islanders imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines