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becausesomething · 3 months

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The farewell letter (zoro x reader)

Summary:

"You are my undoing! You taught me to love, to feel a happiness that cannot fit in my chest, to feel special and unique.

And now it's time for this love to teach us how to endure longing, not to lose hope.

Our destinies will meet again."

warning: nsfw, rough and carnal sex, established relationship

I needed to immortalize what I wouldn't have been able to say without the tears falling, without going against the oath that I had a way of saying goodbye to the love of my life.

Sitting in the aquarium watching what Ussop, Luffy and Chopper had caught, I got lost in my thoughts and disconnected from reality. Fortunately, everyone had already gone to their rooms, I stayed behind with the excuse of tidying up the space and having my schedule changed due to having spent the last few nights on watch.

When I couldn't sleep, that's where I escaped. It gave me a feeling of calm and hope. My body was charged with adrenaline, my mind was racing with emotions and my soul was processing and preparing itself.

I take the notebook that I always had with me and start writing. When I finish, I wipe my tears and go breathe the night air. The moon was full, which soothed my soul, reassuring me that this was my destiny, and my heart was slowly holding on to all the memories I had spent at the Thousand Sunny.

I opened the bedroom door and he was facing away. He had just taken a shower, the drops of water ran down his muscular body, making him even more desirable, as if that were still possible. He was a dream materialized on earth.

When he notices my presence he smiles slightly and comes over to me giving me a soft kiss. Before he escapes, I grab his hair and kiss him intensely. Our tongues were involved in seconds, the desire we felt never diminished, it only increased with each time we gave ourselves to each other.

He takes off the dress he was wearing, to be surprised that I'm not wearing anything underneath. The game of provoking him and seeing his reaction to trying to maintain his posture was something I couldn't resist. In seconds his posture transformed into wanting me carnally, with a look and a preserved smile that immediately left me dripping with lust.

The towel he had wrapped around his hip, which gave even more emphasis to that v, fell to the floor and the member didn't hide its hardness. We both wanted to become one. I push him onto the bed and then sit on top of him. I feel every inch filling me, while our gazes are concentrated and lost in each other's immensity. I pull myself towards him, running my nails down his torso and kissing his neck. Without mercy he grabs my hips and makes me go even deeper and my breathing starts to become laboured.

I want to feel it, deeper, stronger. The movements become rhythmic and deep, while our kisses leave us almost breathless.

He pats my ass and with the other hand he travels down my body, kissing and feeling my breasts, until he reaches my neck and gives the right pressure, making me whisper his name.

Rolling over me, it goes even deeper, and it's impossible to control that scream of feeling filled. The pace only increases, my nails are digging into my torso and arms. While he didn't slow down, he grabbed my breast and with the other hand masturbated my clitoris, which was asking for attention because it was so hard. Precise movements, screams and waves of orgasms invade my body.

Without mercy, he makes me get on all fours, with my ass sticking up. It was impossible not to provoke him in that position that made me feel so carnal and completely at his disposal. His hands wandered over my vulva, so wet it was dripping, and he made a point of teasing me with such simple movements on my clitoris that made me tremble with the wave of adrenaline that was still coursing through my body. He fills me again, now anally, making me roll my eyes with pleasure. Those centimeter's that were coming in and gradually increasing in rhythm, left me in a state of extraordinary ecstasy. Looking over the corner of my shoulder, I see the sadist's face and how carnal he is too.

With our bodies already sweaty and without slowing down, I feel him growing even more inside me. He pulls me against his torso and whispers something to me that I can't understand but I easily imagine what it is by going straight to my clitoris and starting to stimulate it the way he was moving in and out of me. It didn't take much for both of us to reach the peak and contemplate that feeling of paradise on earth.

We fell onto the bed, covered in sweat and the lust that coursed through our bodies in waves. I fit into him, with my head on his chest and one hand resting on his heart. As I feel fingers navigating my body.

I sneak out of bed without being able to look at how peacefully he slept.

I take his white shirt and put it on and my clothes are scattered around the room. I go to the bathroom to get ready and put the letter in the red scarf that he sometimes liked to steal from me and use.

I caress his dishevelled hair and give him a light kiss on the lips, when I was about to get up he pulls me, making me curl up in his arms and whispers "I love you". I hold back the tears and smile, "I love you too, king of hell." Just as he woke up, he goes back to sleep.

I take a look at his serenity, at his muscular, scarred naked body, covered only by a sheet, and close the door behind me.

Love is a complicated feeling. It is a feeling that emanates hope over the world. It's such a strong and overwhelming emotion. It is capable of changing a person, and leaving marks for eternity.

You were winning me over with your mysterious side. Always keeping your distance, but allowing me to get closer. Little by little our companies got used to it. The few words exchanged became conversations late into the night during nights on watch (even if it wasn't one of ours).

Given your persistence, I started joining some training sessions. Maintaining the distance and the relationship exclusively as friendship was already complicated with the complicity that grew, and it kept me hostage to just keeping you company and needing to get some fresh air when I saw you with your bare torso.

Those memories alone make my blood boil. Feeling the excitement build up, wanting to feel your body, every inch. Give myself up so you could drive me crazy.

Your stubbornness was as much as the image of mystery you portrayed, and I was also weak in that regard. I started joining your workouts, with your help, feeling your skin on mine. Controlling breathing and saliva. Keeping my mind in the present and not letting it get carried away by thoughts of how I wanted you to fuck me, eat me, make me just yours at that moment, show me the hell you would become over me. I know the feeling was reciprocal, as soon as you realized how my body reacted, you couldn't resist provoking it, as far as I was able to maintain my sanity.

It was a game between us.

The little hints of putting your body closer to mine. A human weakness that I played out in public. Your arm broke the mysterious image. Little touches, teasing with double meaning, stealing you for a second and throwing it at you and whispering to you what he wanted you to do to me and disappearing in seconds.

It was exciting, it was the way we related. We both wanted to, but something always stopped us when our bodies were pressed together and we felt each other's breath.

Until the day when insomnia became unbearable, the aquarium environment was no longer sufficient. I knew it wasn't your night on watch, I went straight to your room and before I could knock on the door, I was surprised by you opening it. You pull me towards you, wrapping me in your arms and you tell me: "please I can't take it anymore, I need to have you". That night our bodies joined together as one. That desire that had been building up over weeks, erupted between moans and screams, to show me the brute strength that surpassed my fantasies. I engraved every part of you in my memory, because it was in that intimacy that you showed me the Roronoa Zolo that no one else had been able to conquer.

That night was magical. And from that night that became a day without us leaving the room, my desire was to stay by your side. The nights on watch that started with conversations and ended with our bodies begging for just one more orgasm, the breaks during missions where everyone purposely put us on the same team and we looked like two teenagers with hormones raging, between games and kisses that ended up letting me show that it could also be hell or heaven on earth.

You are my downfall! You taught me to love, to feel happiness that doesn't fit in my chest, to feel special and unique.

And now it's time for this love to teach us how to endure longing, not to lose hope.

Our destinies will meet again.

The time had come to separate myself from the companions I had come to call family, to separate myself from the person who made me love more than myself, and follow my dream.

Be the person who would tell the truth to the world and stop living behind the scenes.

Find the 2nd parte here:

The StrawHats' Recation

Find more stories here and here xoxo

english is not my first language, even thought I use it more than my native tongue. I try my best to adapt it 🫣

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece zoro #op zoro #one piece x y/n #fanficbiiyue

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kvetchlandia · 11 months

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Moisei Nappelbaum Anna Akhmatova, Moscow 1929

No foreign sky protected me, no stranger's wing shielded my face. I stand as witness to the common lot, survivor of that time, that place.

Instead of a Preface

In the terrible years of the Yezhov terror I spent seventeen months waiting in line outside the prison in Leningrad. One day somebody in the crowd identified me. Standing behind me was a woman, with lips blue from the cold, who had, of course, never heard me called by name before. Now she started out of the torpor common to us all and asked me in a whisper (everyone whispered there): "Can you describe this?" And I said: "I can." Then something like a smile passed fleetingly over what had once been her face.

Dedication

Such grief might make the mountains stoop, reverse the waters where they flow, but cannot burst these ponderous bolts that block us from the prison cells crowded with mortal woe. . . . For some the wind can freshly blow, for some the sunlight fade at ease, but we, made partners in our dread, hear but the grating of the keys, and heavy-booted soldiers' tread. As if for early mass, we rose and each day walked the wilderness, trudging through silent street and square, to congregate, less live than dead. The sun declined, the Neva blurred, and hope sang always from afar. Whose sentence is decreed? . . . That moan, that sudden spurt of woman's tears, shows one distinguished from the rest, as if they'd knocked her to the ground and wrenched the heart out of her breast, then let her go, reeling, alone. Where are they now, my nameless friends from those two years I spent in hell? What specters mock them now, amid the fury of Siberian snows, or in the blighted circle of the moon? To them I cry, Hail and Farewell!

Prologue

That was a time when only the dead could smile, delivered from their wars, and the sign, the soul, of Leningrad dangled outside its prison-house; and the regiments of the condemned, herded in the railroad-yards, shrank from the engine's whistle-song whose burden went, "Away, pariahs!" The stars of death stood over us. And Russia, guiltless, beloved, writhed under the crunch of bloodstained boots, under the wheels of Black Marias.

At dawn they came and took you away. You were my dead: I walked behind. In the dark room children cried, the holy candle gasped for air. Your lips were chill from the ikon's kiss, sweat bloomed on your brow–those deathly flowers! Like the wives of Peter's troopers in Red Square I'll stand and howl under the Kremlin towers.

Quietly flows the quiet Don; into my house slips the yellow moon.

It leaps the sill, with its cap askew, and balks at a shadow, that yellow moon.

This woman is sick to her marrow-bone, this woman is utterly alone,

with husband dead, with son away in jail. Pray for me. Pray.

III

Not, not mine: it's somebody else's wound. I could never have borne it. So take the thing that happened, hide it, stick it in the ground. Whisk the lamps away . . . Night.

They should have shown you–mocker, delight of your friends, hearts' thief, naughtiest girl of Pushkin's town– this picture of your fated years, as under the glowering wall you stand, shabby, three hundredth in the line, clutching a parcel in your hand, and the New Year's ice scorched by your tears. See there the prison poplar bending! No sound. No sound. Yet how many innocent lives are ending . . .

For seventeen months I have cried aloud, calling you back to your lair. I hurled myself at the hangman's foot. You are my son, changed into nightmare. Confusion occupies the world, and I am powerless to tell somebody brute from something human, or on what day the word spells, "Kill!" Nothing is left but dusty flowers, the tinkling thurible, and tracks that lead to nowhere. Night of stone, whose bright enormous star stares me straight in the eyes, promising death, ah soon!

The weeks fly out of mind, I doubt that it occurred: how into your prison, child, the white nights, blazing, stared; and still, as I draw breath, they fix their buzzard eyes on what the high cross shows, this body of your death.

VII

The Sentence

The word dropped like a stone on my still living breast. Confess: I was prepared, am somehow ready for the test.

So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.

Not quite. Hot summer's feast brings rumors of carouse. How long have I foreseen this brilliant day, this empty house?

VIII

To Death

You will come in any case–so why not now? How long I wait and wait. The bad times fall. I have put out the light and opened the door for you, because you are simple and magical. Assume, then, any form that suits your wish, take aim, and blast at me with poisoned shot, or strangle me like an efficient mugger, or else infect me–typhus be my lot– or spring out of the fairytale you wrote, the one we're sick of hearing, day and night, where the blue hatband marches up the stairs, led by the janitor, pale with fright. It's all the same to me. The Yenisei swirls the North Star shines, as it will shine forever; and the blue lustre of my loved one's eyes is clouded over by the final horror.

Already madness lifts its wing to cover half my soul. That taste of opiate wine! Lure of the dark valley!

Now everything is clear. I admit my defeat. The tongue of my ravings in my ear is the tongue of a stranger.

No use to fall down on my knees and beg for mercy's sake. Nothing I counted mine, out of my life, is mine to take:

not my son's terrible eyes, not the elaborate stone flower of grief, not the day of the storm, not the trial of the visiting hour,

not the dear coolness of his hands, not the lime trees' agitated shade, not the thin cricket-sound of consolation's parting word.

Crucifixion

"Do not weep for me, Mother, when I am in my grave."

A choir of angels glorified the hour, the vault of heaven was dissolved in fire. "Father, why hast Thou forsaken me? Mother, I beg you, do not weep for me. . . ."

Mary Magdalene beat her breasts and sobbed, His dear disciple, stone-faced, stared. His mother stood apart. No other looked into her secret eyes. No one dared.

Epilogue

I have learned how faces fall to bone, how under the eyelids terror lurks how suffering inscribes on cheeks the hard lines of its cuneiform texts, how glossy black or ash-fair locks turn overnight to tarnished silver, how smiles fade on submissive lips, and fear quavers in a dry titter. And I pray not for myself alone . . . for all who stood outside the jail, in bitter cold or summer's blaze, with me under that blind red wall.

Remembrance hour returns with the turning year. I see, I hear, I touch you drawing near:

the one we tried to help to the sentry's booth, and who no longer walks this precious earth,

and that one who would toss her pretty mane and say, "It's just like coming home again."

I want to name the names of all that host, but they snatched up the list, and now it's lost.

I've woven them a garment that's prepared out of poor words, those that I overheard,

and will hold fast to every word and glance all of my days, even in new mischance,

and if a gag should blind my tortured mouth, through which a hundred million people shout,

then let them pray for me, as I do pray for them, this eve of my remembrance day.

And if my country ever should assent to casting in my name a monument,

I should be proud to have my memory graced, but only if the monument be placed

not near the seas on which my eyes first opened– my last link with the sea has long been broken–

nor in the Tsar's garden near the sacred stump, where a grieved shadow hunts my body's warmth,

but here, here I endured three hundred hours in line before the implacable iron bars.

Because even in blissful death I fear to lose the clangor of the Black Marias,

to lose the banging of that odious gate and the old crone howling like a wounded beast.

And from my motionless bronze-lidded sockets may the melting snow, like teardrops, slowly trickle,

and a prison dove coo somewhere, over and over, as the ships sail softly down the flowing Neva.

-- Anna Akhmatova, “Requiem” written over a long period of time between 1935 and 1961

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poetryinsilence · 2 years

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Oceans and Engines (part I)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female!Reader

part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V

A/n: It's October so you know what that means! ✨Whumptober✨ Fluff to Angst fic. This is a love letter; signed, sealed, and undelivered with unsaid things to no one in particular. I wanted to make myself cry because life got me in a chokehold. And what better way to do this than write a fic that takes away -1hp with every word written. This is a full-on SOBFEST, so, enjoy :) I wanna apologize beforehand because there are just so, so many metaphors and ocean-themed and that's on me :')

Summary: So what if you've found the right person; so delicate with love that he could run his fingers lightly on your face and you would burst into flame? But what if he’s also the wrong person, one that doesn’t put up a fight and runs away? Loving Robert Floyd felt so easy, yet hurts so much.

Wc: 2,290

His breath felt heavy in his chest, tightening with each inhale he took and exhaled with a shaky sigh. Hands sweaty as he wipes it away with the fabric of his pant legs and swaps between what's clutched in his hand. He got on one knee in front of a crowd of party people and drunkards at The Hard Deck as his trembling voice asks:

“I love you from the moment you walk into this bar, and I will always and forever love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

The gathered crowd gasps at the scene in front of their eyes; you could hear a pin drop at this moment as they await your answer. You were stunned by this sudden proposal proposed by your boyfriend; eyes gazed into yours with affection and adoration. A few strands of his golden hair curl just above his cerulean blue eyes- hiding behind big gold-rimmed glasses. His boyish grin radiates warmth, but his affection cannot penetrate your heart because you know that you are undeserving of taking his last name and starting your own family with him for the rest of your life. You do not deserve his unconditional love because, to you, he’s not the love of your life.

Minutes seem to slow down at the very moment when your eyes travel to the entrance of The Hard Deck, and there he stands tall and upright, with his wire-framed glasses shaped perfectly on his pretty face, just as you remembered it. He gave you a soft smile and a nod. The light behind his ocean eyes flickered with a twinge of sadness, but he knew it was what he must do.

The swarm of people crowds this beautiful moment; he’s the only one that stands out and captures your attention. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. He was once your dream. A story of the future that you had, but the pages crisped and torn without knowing what the end truly holds—the one true love that entangles with your soul. And the one that also slipped away.

———

You decided you needed a change of pace from the small town you once grew up in, but now it's just a place blended into one giant shade of monotonous grey. Its cultivation in prime time is long gone and people who remain there either moved away to find a better future for themselves; or are just halfway through death’s door.

That’s when you wanted a clean slate; at the age of 24, to cut out the suffocation and the repetition of your old, stuck-up job. Where else would you rather be other than California? The literal opposite of your childhood town. A place where the heart of the city and its people are, well, alive!

You sat on the beach with that sweltering sun beaming down at you; the grainy sand cradles your feet. You wonder when was the last time you ever felt this feeling of hope and excitement spilling out from your core.

As the hues of the sky entwined with the ocean at the horizon in a sunny shade of orange, the waves draped along the shoreline one moment and pulled back the next, leaving a brief imprint of their existence. Eyes drooped closed as you listened to the crescendo waves ripple in tempo until a sudden searing pain smacked dead across your arm and the backsplash of rough sand splattered across your face.

"Oh God, I-I-I'm so sorry. I-It's my fault! The ball slipped out of my grasp and-and are you alright?" A panic and concern in his trembling voice. You look up to see a black silhouette blocked out by the sun; the shape of his outline appears lanky— hunchback with his shoulders rolled forward.

He crouched down to inspect the damage he had done to your arm. Now in full view, you see his features; eyes wide and filled with blue mimicking the vast ocean, his hair slick back with hair gel or sweat— maybe a mixture of both— along with an old school wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose and tightly fitted with a saffron colored shirt. His lips are pursed together as worry has taken over his face.

The pain in your arm no longer matters when you catch sight of his gaze. He softly smiles at you, and without missing a beat like the waves pushing against the shore- everything about him pours right into your world. The warmest blue eyes and that innocent, boyish smile— you drink it in. And he does the same. Take in your deep-set eyes, trailing down to the top of your nose and lingering on your bitten red lips. You felt intoxicated simply from just one look; the butterflies in your stomach threatened to escape and flutter out to the world, embarrassingly exposing yourself.

He opens his mouth to speak before getting cut off by distant shouting. “Got your foot stuck in the sand? What’s taking so long?” A handsome man, flexed with washboard abs and flocks of blondes. He yells out. He’s good-looking, you’ll admit it that much, but his lack of mannerisms took a toll on you. If he wiped that cocky-ass grin and pretentious personality off his overconfident face, maybe you might just tolerate him.

“I-I think she’s injured! I’ll take her to Penny’s. You guys go on ahead!” He swoops up the football and launches it in one full motion. What surprised you was your underestimation of his physique when he swung the football back to his teammates across the beach with a rough estimation of 30 feet apart. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you sure are now.

He turns back with his brows knitted together. “Let’s get that iced before it gets any worse for you.” He helps you up on your feet and offers support on your elbow. When his touch grazes your arm, the heat of his fingertips lingers and sends a shock of warmth down your spine. Goosebumps light their way on your arm, and you hope he hadn’t noticed as he guides you across the beach to a homey-looking bar with ‘The Hard Deck’ inscribed on the front. He pushed his way in and worked around before seating you on the bar stool.

“Seems like you know your way around here.” You broke the silence with curiosity, as he rummaged around behind all the beer taps. You glance around, taking in the sight of this shack; rows of cups decorated and hanging low from the ceiling, and a piano sits isolated on the opposite side of the bar while the jukebox plays a slow, sultry tune in the background.

It's unusually quiet for a bar, with barely any patrons or servers in the early afternoon. You listen loosely to "I’m in the mood for love" and think to yourself about the irony of this situation. Sure, you just met this guy approximately 15 minutes ago. But he's also the first person you’ve actually had a proper conversion (kind of) in the state of California, where you’re a million miles away from where you came from, and yet, there’s something unique and different about him but can’t quite put it on a canvas.

He whips back around with a bag of ice ready in his hands and treats it gently on your already purple bruise. He frowns. “I um, I-I just come here quite often. I don’t drink, but um- the guys outside hang around quite a lot, so I usually just join them.”

He pursed his lips together again, wondering if he had said the right thing. The icy coolness seeps across your injury and follows up your fingertips, but this arctic temperature could not calm the flush spreading along your cheeks.

His posture slumps, leaning on one hip and still hunched— making himself smaller than the space he’s occupied, but correct himself once he sees you observing his every move. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s probably rude of me that um- that I haven’t introduced myself.” He sheepishly pushed up his glasses, “I’m Robert, Robert Floyd. But you can call me Bob. That's what everyone calls me anyway. But also, that is kind of my name.” Bob mumbles on, reaching out his hand for you to reciprocate the handshake, but was immediately taken back by him.

“Oh, sorry…I didn’t- that was your injured arm.” He casually collides his palm back and forth with the side of his shorts before reaching out. You gladly accept the gesture and, in turn, unveil your name. His lips softly repeat your own back to you; in slow syllables, causing your heart to skip a beat. Or possibly just stop beating all at once.

“I think that should be my line since you’re the one that’s helping me. Well, cause the damage and then patch me up.” you jest but noticed the colour drained from his face. You shook your head and wanted to tell him you were joking. But he interjects,

"I-I-I am really, really sorry about that. It's unusually clumsy of me and-and—" fingers fiddling in anxiousness, his chest rises. With a heavy sigh, he opens up again. "Can I buy you a drink as-as an apology and to make it up to you?"

Bob swallows, awkwardly looking down at his shuffling feet against the hardwood floor, waiting nervously for your answer. You can almost see the thoughts in his head, screaming out: 'Is she going to reject me? Am I being too straightforward?' as you hold in a giggle.

"Yes, I would like that very much" a beat, "and...apology accepted."

Bob's shoulders relaxed, and his face beamed with relief and delight. He hadn't noticed the breath he held in with his mind fully preoccupied with the thought of your rejection and possibly resentment for his own little football mistake. But he felt grateful it gave him an opportunity to have the courage to talk to you.

He noticed; you sat by the shoreline, mesmerised by the twinkle of ocean waves, attentive to the sound of nature clashing and contemplating. He wondered what you were thinking, what you were feeling. He wanted to peek inside and see. The mellow breeze blew past you, strands of hair caught across your face as you tucked them behind your ear with your delicate finger, and a few locks weaved freely, where he thought they were radiating in the sunlight. His soul was screaming at his feet to come up to you and strike up a conversation, yet in his gut, he knew he wouldn't have the bravery to be able to keep you around. But all it took was one brawny pass from Hangman, and an accidental slip-up sends Bob landing at your feet as the fates have it.

Conversations flow effortlessly between you and Bob. How he was growing up, living off his family’s ranch on the outskirts of Texas, where he helped raise cattle and sheeps with his father. He remembers every Saturday, his mother would make him omelettes with an extra side of buttermilk pancakes and explained that's his favourite. His eyes twinkle with childish joy as he runs through his nostalgia, and you laugh along when he exaggerates the motion of hands, so immersed in his stories that made you wish you had witnessed it too. In return, you shared your side of the story.

Little by little at first; then all at once, you spilt them out. You’ve never met someone that listened to your life story as intently as him before. Most people you’ve met quickly brush you off as sensitive or overreacting, but Bob, he listens. He laughs along with you at the parts that made you happy and frowned at the memories you lived through that made your eyes wet. He understands how lonely you felt, living in a repeated cycle, but you’ve always looked on the brighter side of life. A life that’s filled with nothing but love, and he hoped that he could be a part of it someday.

Aviators started to roll into The Hard Deck, and that’s when you both knew it was your cue to leave. Bob insisted on walking you home, but you politely declined and reassured him you lived close by. That it’s perfectly safe to walk home while the sun is still up. Before he leaves, he turns and blinks at you, debating something inside his head but decides to ask anyway.

“C-can I see you again? I hope this isn’t too much, but I want to um- talk to you again. I uh- Oh, I work nearby- I-I’m a naval officer, like one of those aviators, well, a lieutenant. Actually, a weapon system officer, w-which is-“ he sealed his lips together to stop himself from babbling on any further embarrassment. But you find his reaction rather cute.

“I knew you were special,” you whispered inaudibly to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing…Um, of course! I’d love to meet you again.” You flashed a toothy smile in response.

Bob instantly melts into your grin, and the word ‘love’ echoes inside his head. He never had anyone use the word ‘love’ to him before, not in a genuine way. He heard his teammates use it in the context of things like 'Hangman loves the feeling of the need for speed' or 'Rooster loves to beat the shit out of Hangman when he steps out of line.' All of these were in the context of things. But hearing in your silky voice, it’s something he never learned until now. That the word ‘love’ has such a powerful feeling— this intense warmth he never wants to let go of and one he can’t bear to lose.

#robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fic #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #tgm fic #fanfic #fanfiction #⭐️.doc

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mishanym · 1 year

Text

Yours truly.

Day 1.

Yesterday, there was a random message sent to my phone from an unknown number that said,

I O V I E B S Y E U D X O E R V N W P O U

Yeah.. I know. Seems like a text from a madman or a drunk who mistypes but then again it's too neat to be a typo message. Hmm..

I spent hours cracking it until I realized I can use the Fibonacci sequence.

1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21

I I O V E Y O U

Wait. Sometimes "I" can be seen as "L" too, so..

I LOVE YOU??

Okay, who would ever use a complicated way just to say I love you? And that person knows I love puzzles.. JAKE?!

He's alive?!

I stared at the message for quite some time, my heart started to race as I'm trying to reply to the unknown number.

Number doesn't exist.

Hmm. So this number cannot receive text. My text didn't get delivered.

How about I try calling?

The number you are calling does not exist..

Okay.. These things are screaming "Jake" in all elements. It must be him.

Meanwhile:

MC has activated my spyware. Not a wise move MC, but, I'm sure it's because you already cracked my puzzle. A smile on my lips, I executed my spyware immediately. The moment you tried calling the number, your phone activated the trap I set for you. Correction: love trap :)

I am sorry. I merely.. Miss you. But I cannot contact you directly. Any direct contact to you would risk leaving traces of evidence that we both are connected. That we know each other. And if they ever find you with any trace of me in it you will be in danger.

"You're not being fair, Jake!"

Somehow I can hear you say that in my ears. I am sorry. All is fair in love and war. I grin. Forgive me. I miss you too much. Please let me at least hack into your phone and listen in to you. I want to know what you're doing. I want to know how your day is. I want to make sure nothing hurts you, despite my limited power because I can't be there physically for you.

Note: Jake's POV is gonna be in green color, MC's POV is gonna be in blue color. Let's get their perspectives together at the same time because Jake is now in "I can hear your voice mode: on." ;)

I completed the activation of my spyware on MC's phone and suddenly felt the rush of excitement. I try and take a deep breath. Finally. Very soon, I will be able to hear you. I put in the last line of codes and.. voila! I ended my series of typing with a firm tap on my enter button.

I see the strings of code processing before me and the donut shaped "connecting" icon running in circles. Come on connection! I can not wait to hear the voice of the woman I love. The swirling circle finally stopped and I am connected to MC's speaker.

"GAAHHH! THIS IS ANNOYING! I hate you, Jake! You can hack me but I can't hack you back!" I grunted and shouted out my frustrations.

I chuckled. "I love you too, MC." I mumbled to myself and I can feel my face lit up in glee. Oh how I miss you, MC.

I lie on my bed, my phone beside me. I am hit with realization. "I know your spyware is here." My face made a knowing smile.

I smile. You're smart. You caught on fast. Thankfully not faster than me. If it was any faster, I wouldn't be able to hear you, love.

"Jake?" I say your name out loud subconsciously.

"Yes, MC." I can't help but reply to you despite knowing you can't hear me.

"Where are.. you?" I sigh in exasperation.

"I am here, MC." Well. Physically I am somewhere, hiding safely in my hideout. I quite like my new hiding place. It is safe enough to let me stay for a few days.

I am very worried about you. I miss you.

You must be missing me. I remember your last message for me, saying you love me too. If only I could hear it one more time...

"I love you too, Jake." My lips are echoing the last text I sent you over and over again, every time I think about you.

I gasped. Did you read my mind? I chuckled. Your hacking skills are better than mine MC, because you have hacked my mind, and.. my heart. You fascinate me.

My eyes glanced at the clock out of habit. It's late. If I could just send you a message to your mind. If there's a slightest chance at all that we are connected, please hear me and go to sleep.

I sigh, trying to calm the worries in my heart. "I think I'd better sleep." I reach for the cover and cover myself warmly.

I am still in disbelief. How intriguing that you can hear what my mind is desperately telling you. Like a magical connection. Two souls that are connected.

"Good night, Jake." I speak to my phone. I don't know whether Jake can hear me or not but I say it nonetheless. It helps me cope with loneliness, thinking that he's right there, listening in to what I say.

"Good night, MC." I transferred the access to MC's spyware on her phone to my phone and put on my earphones. This way if there's a suspicious noise around her I will hear it too. But the thing is, I've been very exhausted. After weeks of being on the run, I never really find peace. Peace is when I can talk to you. Peace is when I know for sure that you're safe. Peace is when I am able to hear your voice, it gives me a big sense of relief. At this point I don't know who is protecting who. I thought I was protecting you. Ironically, it is actually you that is protecting my sanity. Meeting you makes me start to have hope again. And I can finally sleep soundly.

Day 2.

I overslept. I only meant to sleep for four hours. But when I woke up this morning, it was already 9 AM. I slept for 9 hours?! This is insane. I panicked. I hurriedly checked all of my surroundings and ran my safety procedures. All systems are normal. No anomaly, no threats. I'm good. I sigh a breath of relief.

MC! I hurry and check on you. I can hear you breathing evenly through the speaker. Okay. I have to regain my composure. Suddenly there's an incoming text to your phone. I am tempted to read it but I am having second doubt.

What if it's something private? I do not dare. But then there's another and another new message incoming. I am starting to worry. If you have to hate me for this then you can hate me. It's a cheap price to pay if it means I can keep you safe.

I open the text, it's from someone that I assume is your classmate. "Class moved from 1PM to 9.30AM. YOU MUST HURRY, MC!" I look at the clock, 9.10AM. That's soon!

"Alright." I speak to myself. "Commencing, 'Operation getting MC to class on time'." I grin. I will get you to class on time, MC.

I hacked into your phone alarm and set the alarm to maximum volume. I grimace. "I am sorry for this, love." I ring your phone alarm in a jiffy. This is child's play.

My phone alarm is ringing so loudly. "Ughh?!" I groaned.

I grimaced again. I'm sorry. But you need to wake up. You got class.

I pressed stop on the phone alarm notification.

Oh no, I won't let you go back to sleep. You need to wake up. I set your phone alarm on again.

My phone alarm rings again. "Ahhhh! Jake!" I screamed his name now completely sure I am not imagining it. I'm pretty sure he did something to my phone alarm. "What are you doing, Jake?" I take my phone and turn off the alarm. Still annoyed I look at my phone and suddenly it opens my text messages. "Class moved to 9.30AM?" Gasp! I look at my phone's clock. 9.15? Oh God!

I hurry and get out of my bed, change to the closest clothes I can find and grab my bag. I ran to the subway. It usually takes me 25 to 30 minutes to go to my university how am I going to make it in 15 frikkin minutes?!

"I will be your escort, my love." I say this and a smile formed on my lips. I followed your movement through your phone's GPS location and CCTV. "Ahh despite being in a hurry you are still looking so beautiful." I mumble to myself. For a few seconds I was admiring your beauty until I slap myself to reality. Ahem. I need to focus. I will have my own sweet time admiring your beauty after you arrive at your classroom on time.

I quickly tried to get on the subway train but I was late by a split second, the door of the subway closed in front of my face. "Ahh!" I quickly stopped before my face hit the subway door. I can see the guy in the suit inside is sneering at me. I grunt. "Ugh. Wipe that smug off your face!"

I saw the sneer that stranger gave you through nearby CCTV. "What a bastard." I quickly type strings of codes on my computer. "Let's secure your carriage, my love." My speed is faster than normal, maybe because this is for you. I ended my input with a sharp sound of my enter button. "Aaaand done. Who's laughing now?" I snorted.

The subway door opens up again in front of me. THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Could it be... I pull up my phone quickly. "Jake? Was it you?"

"It is I, Jake, yours truly." I smile lovingly to the camera live feeds showing MC standing in front of the subway door.

Astonishing! I smile, impressed. I hurry to enter the subway. The guy in the suit who just sneered at me now has his mouth agape. I give him a smug smile. "Heh."

"Alright, now for the finale." I cracked my knuckles and started working on my next hacking. I scan your route to University and while you're in the subway I am securing your next trip. I feel like my fingers are flying on my keyboard. I have never felt so ecstatic, so alive, hacking for anyone. Is this what it feels like to do your best for someone you love? You are the first one who makes me feel like I'm on fire. And I like it.

My train arrives at the destination nearest to my university. Now to quickly get on my bus. I only have 7 minutes left! "Will I make it in time, Jake?" I talk to Jake who is listening in to me. Right now I'm pretty sure if I don't mess around with my phone his connection to my phone will be secured.

"Way ahead of you, love. I will make sure you arrive in time." Eyes on the nearest bus to your bus stop I'm watching its movement closely, making sure it's not stopping on any red lights.

"Hmm? The bus is here so fast!" I squeal in joy. I get on the bus quickly.

"Now let there be only greens on your way..." I nimbly move my fingers on my keyboard typing in correctly every code I need to turn all the traffic lights in your way to green. "And... done." My computer swiftly processes my hacking inputs.

I can't believe my eyes. I see every red light in front of me quickly turning to green whenever my bus is approaching it. Now 7 minutes is long enough for me to arrive at my university.

"Yes!!" I jumped for joy. MC arrives in time.

I grab my phone and whisper to it softly while I'm walking to my classroom.

"Thank you, my sweet boyfriend." I smile with affection and put my phone away inside my bag.

I heard the words you just said, utterly dumbfounded by them. "Did you just, call me your boyfriend..?" I feel my heart skips a beat. I.. I.. I never experienced the great happiness of being called as someone's boyfriend. And it's by someone as wonderful and as gorgeous as you, MC.. I don't deserve you.. and yet.. The happiness in my heart right now is betraying my logic. I know deep inside I want this. It is dangerous, but I simply can't evade you. And I do not want to. I want to be with you. And I am elated to be your boyfriend.

Yours truly,

Your man hacker,

Jake. :)

#duskwood fanfiction #jake duskwood fanfiction #jake duskwood fanfic #duskwood jake fanfiction #jake x mc fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake x mc fanfiction #fanfiction

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quicktosimp · 7 months

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Forever

Kinktober 15 Spider

Spider/Na'vi!Reader

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one and am happy to share it, as I get to show the other side of na'vi biology!

Thank you @pandoraslxna

Warnings: Size Kink, Tall Women, Short Male, Mating, P in V Sex Kinda, Alien Biology, Neteyam Is A Good Friend, Aged Up Characters

It was a gorgeous day in the forest, perfect for what we have planned.

“Oel ngati kameie, Spider,”

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N,” Spider returned.

I have always loved that Spider spoke our lounge despite his odd form. He may have been born in the body of a tawtute, but Spider is true na’vi. Unfortunately, too many of the people see anything tawtute, and their hearts fill with distrust and hate. Even Lo’ak and Kiri, the children of our Olo’eyktan, see some suspicion, although it is rarely shown in public. Anyone caught with Spider is treated with distrust or taken away from him to ensure that the tawtute has not poisoned their minds.

When I was a child, I always tried to play with Spider. He had so much energy it was infectious. When I got the chance, I would sneak away to join him in the games he would play with the Sully kids. The moment my parents noticed, they would drag me away the moment that the Olo’eyktan or Tsakarem looked away or took their children elsewhere. While they wanted me to pursue Neteyam, they would not do it at the risk of being around Spider, but that never stopped me. I would sneak at every moment to see him, and now that we are older, our meetings reflect our age as we began to court. If my parents were to know, then they would hide me away until they could set me up with a good mate. Neteyam is a gift from Eywa, as he pretends to court me and then leaves on his own so Spider and I can meet together. This is how we have gone on for months, and tonight it ends.

“I am sorry, paskalin, I forgot that my father needed me for training. If you do not mind, Spider may escort you the rest of the way to Vitrays Ramunong.” Neteyam uttered his rehearsed line.

“As long as it is no trouble for Spider.” I continue.

“The pleasure is mine,” Spider came over and held out his arm for me.

I take it to the best of my ability, Spider at 6’5 and myself at 8’6; the reach is a little long, but we always make it work. With Neteyam ‘gifting’ Spider the ability to escort me, the rest of the clan cannot say anything about it.

Spider and I trek through the jungle, both of us attempting to hide our eagerness. For today is the day we mate.

“It is finally time, Spider,” I whisper as I fight to keep a smile from slitting my face.

Spider turns to me and asks, “I will never stop wanting to mate with you, and I wish for it with all my heart, but are you sure about this? After today, the clan will forever judge you. Your own family said they would disown you. Is that the life you want?” Concern mars his face.

I turn and kneel to Spider’s height, “Tìyawn, I do not care about the repercussions; a life without you is a life not worth living. I choose you, Spider Socorro.”

“Thank you, yawne.” His small hands hold my face, “I am ready to mate with you before Eywa.” Spider leans up to kiss my lips, a small kiss to say thank you.

The Vitrays Ramunong was not far from here, the glowing pink tendrils illuminating the surrounding area. Walking among them, feeling as they caress my face, I look over and see Spider holding the tendrils and letting them go as we walk. We continue our way to the roots of the tree; I lay myself down, leaning against its roots. I wave to Spider to join me. Spider crawls over my legs and rests on my stomach, leaning down so he can hold my face in his hands. Our lips meet, and our mouths slowly work together, taking our time, reuniting our bodies.

Spider tugs on my beaded top, “May I?”

I nod my consent as I lift myself so he could untie my garment, revealing my breasts. Spider lays the garment to the side before taking one of my breasts in each hand. My breasts engulf his hands. His palms barely cover my areola. Spider begins to knead them as he goes to suckle on my nipple.

“Spider,” I sigh his name, bring my hand to cradle his head, covering the back of his head entirely, and my finger could wrap around his face if I wished.

Spider’s hand was not idle on my other breast, gently tweaking and rolling my nipple between his fingers. The subtle pleasure trailed down and warmed my core. I used my finger to feel Spider’s pecks, muscular from his work with the land but still softer than a na’vi male. His flesh is naturally more delicate. Spider’s nipples are one of my favorite things, beautiful pale pink; they are the same color as the tendrils of my kuru. I grab Spider by the hips and lift him so his chest is by my face. I take his nipple into my mouth, biting on the surrounding flesh.

“Yawne, you are being needy today. We both agreed that you would follow my lead today.” Spider’s voice was breathless as he held back moans.

I ignore his complaints, preferring to mark his chest in my bites. Red marks are left by my teeth as I continue my assault on his nipple, refusing to stop until both are red and puffy.

“Now that’s beautiful,” I whisper, my tail flickering in amusement, noticing the tent in his tweng.

Spider girns, his face covered in a blush, “Okay, you had your fun, now my turn.” Spider pushes his body down my body settling down between my thighs, licking his lips at the sight of my slit.

The dark blue of my stripes intertwined near my hips; my slit was down low, not entirely between my legs, around the groin area. Just from our playing, my slit is open and leaking onto the skin around it.

“Fuck, I love this,” Spider says as he delves into my slit, his tongue licking from the top to the bottom of my slit, the wet muscle dragging along, easing my slit to open more. With each swipe of his tongue, more slick pulses out of me.

“Spider, I like that,” I moan.

Spider smiles into my slit as he adds his fingers, thumbing the outsides, encouraging my slit to open even more. I can hear Spider slurping my juices like he refuses to let even a drop go to waste.

Due to our sizes, my slit does not need to open anymore, as I will only stretch to accommodate my mate. I know I am ready.

I play with Spider’s locks, getting his attention, “Spider, I am ready,”

Spider leaves my slit, his face dripping in my slick, translucent blue covering his peach skin, “I have not opened you with my fingers yet yawne. You must be patient.” he argues, inserting a finger.

His finger is so tiny that I cannot even feel it enter, just more parting of my slit, “Spider! That is not enough! I need you, please!” Begging, I arch into him.

“Mawey yawne, I will give you more.” Spider quickly added two more fingers, and I could finally feel the pleasure, the pressure, and the stretch of his tiny fingers.

I dig my feet into the moss surrounding us, “Yes! Spider!” I wrap one of my legs around him, pulling Spider close to me, “Now more!” The feel of his fingers inside triggered my breeding instinct,

“Yes, tìyawn, I am here.” Spider pulled out his fingers and removed his tweng, his cock hard and ready for me, “Are you ready, tìyawn?” He asks.

“Yes, Spider, I am ready to mate with you before Eywa!” I shout, not caring who hears me.

Spider grabs my hand, holding it in his strong grasp. I slot my fingers along his own, comforting myself in his presence.

Then he entered; the slide was slow and blissful as my slit opened for him inviting him in. The moment Spider was fully entered, my tendrils went to work, and the insides of my slit formed to his cock, creating the perfect sleeve. I will now never fit anyone else, only Spider. My insides will always remember his shape, his for all our lives.

“Oh, Eywa!” Spider yells, his head thrown back with his eyes closed.

I can feel myself becoming tighter, fitting myself around Spider’s dick, and I feel so full, so good, “Spider!” I moan into the air.

My tendrils play around his cock, pleasuring him, wanting his cum to fill me.

“Tìyawn, you’re so tight. How the fuck are you so tight? I can feel something playing with my dick, what is it? Oh fuck it feels so good!” Spider moans, trying to thrust his dick inside me more.

My tendrils won’t let him far, urging him closer while moving my cervix to the tip of his cock, needing him inside before he cums.

“Please, Spider! I need your cum! Please give me your cum!”

Spider’s tip enters my cervix, closing around the head of his dick. I throw my head back as I cum. The deepest parts of me wrapped around Spider’s cock, pleasuring him, and my vision went white; torrents of pleasure washed through my body, my slit twitching and flexing on Spider’s cock as I cum, milking him for everything he has.

“Oh fuck, tìyawn, fuck, fuck, fuck!” After a few more thrusts, Spider releases inside me, painting me in the pearly white color of tawtute cum. As he cums, his hips grind into mine, furthering our pleasure. I place my hand on Spider’s upper body, laying him on me, as we will be locked for the rest of the night, my slit fully forming to Spider’s size.

“I love you, Y/N, my muntxate,” Spider whispers.

“I love you, Spider, my Muntxatan.”

#avatar #lunaskinktober2023 #atwow #avatar way of water #kinktober #smut #spider x y/n #spider socorro #spider x reader #spider avatar

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tarrevizsla · 2 years

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a lot of people talk about the lay of leithian rock opera finrod vs sauron duel (and rightfully so, it's a banger) but my favorite version of finrod v sauron is the czech version!! here's the lyrics, under the cut:

Sauron: Say farewell to your freedom, you will never see the sun shine again.

Finrod: Darkness is not what I fear, the sparkle of stars is closer to my heart.

S: Say farewell to your home, It will soon become wreckage.

F: My home has always been across the Sea and you cannot change that.

S: Say farewell to your family, I will gladly welcome them into my power.

F: I have not taken a wife, free is my heart, I am alone.

S: Say farewell to everything you have ever wanted, you will lose everything you had loved.

F: When I began this path, I knew then what it would cost me.

S: Say farewell to your life, and your futile mission.

F: I knew my fate, I have accepted it, this promise is one I will keep. I knew my fate, I have accepted it, this promise is one I will keep.

Finrod’s interlude

F: A powerful Maia you were ages ago, What happened to that time, when your wisdom awed us all?

S: A powerful Maia I still am, you will know, ere day’s ending.

F: You rule by fire, lies, and wrought steel, character and honor you have traded for a hard fist.

S: Those words “character” and “honor” are nothing but echoes of meaningless gestures.

F: Aulë was your lord, not Morgoth, only a fool would exchange the Smith for the Father of Lies.

S: Worm, were you called here to judge who is the better lord?

F: Your lord is fond of doing evil; do you not have any fear that in his anger he will crush you to dust?

S: Do not worry about my fate, I will only consult with myself.

F: The will of the Powers you defy, your punishment is approaching, do you have no fear of the Valar?

S: The Valar do not worry me, but you should fear more for yourself. The Valar do not worry me, you should fear more for yourself.

Sauron’s interlude

S: Say farewell to your freedom… F: Wisdom you abandoned long ago…

S: Say farewell to your home… F: How easily you sold your honor…

S: Say farewell to your family… F: You have become such a fool…

S: Say farewell to everything you have ever wanted… F: Morgoth, know he is a volatile lord…

S: Say farewell to your life… F: Do you not fear the Valar?

Do you not fear the Valar?

Spoken: S: And you?

What a proud elf, honor embodied, surely you can bear the consequences of your deeds; be sure that I can read between the lines.

You are hiding the goal of your journey, yet you have revealed too much:

For he who remembers Valinor, from Aman fled, Valar defied, he, who hides his face hypocritically, must be a rebel and a liar.

Did you think you had not revealed more? Every word has a double meaning. He who boasted as you did must have been born of a Noldor king.

Remember Fëanor’s wrath, the shed blood at Alqualondë. Tell me: even you also had a sword in your hand, or did you look on idly?

Or did you idly look on?

What a proud elf, honor embodied, surely you can bear your guilt.

#finrod: your lord is fond of doing evil #sauron: i'm evil #.....anyways #my..... translations?#yeah we'll go with that #my translations #beren a luthien #beren and luthien #finrod felagund #sauron #duel of finrod and sauron

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talthorn-sylvoran · 1 year

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Celestial Journey

(( Poetic verse by Talthorn Syl'voran with beautiful music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg6C-aGGCj4 )) The path I fantasized about so very long ago

Took me above the heavy veil of eve and falling snow

To a place that welcomed to where I truly could belong

Where my soul would be eternally warm in beautiful song

How fellow stars would say they had been waiting for me

In all their cosmic wonder and phenomenal energy

A place where my mind could finally understand

All the answers to the questions my life had in its span

However every time I brought myself to this promised realm

I could only watch in frozen shackles held in silent overwhelm

To only view with the universe would be never enough for me

So I would return here and be left with the elusive mystery

What had I been missing in all of my years?

Did I want too much to walk those frontiers?

As so more time passed and my search would go on

For the epiphany I desired for so very long

As fate brought my feet to through into the veil of heavy eve and snow

There was a light that drew me in, attempting to hide its mystifying glow

In the vision of a handsome man and aura that dismissed the chill of night

His deep words could melt a soul of ice much to my mortal ears delight

The way he truly captivated was how he saw me within his amber eyes

He saw straight past to my inner self through my ever guarded disguise

We knew that those pieces of us on display, were not the sum of our parts

That we were so much more and began to share our dreams and our hearts

Our lives became one when our shells of fear shattered away

And accepting we were worthy of this love to celebrate everyday

The path that was once only mine, was now -ours- to explore

And he helped me find the key to unlock my stubborn mind’s door

The calling within both of us swelled to embark to the star’s domain

We dared to reach together with our magics of life and arcane

I did not know, where we would go or what we would see

Would I discover the path once more was still frozen for me?

My arrival was the same, where I struggled to move

And with patience and explanation I began to improve

Kal’dalah showed how I was limiting myself to what I thought I knew

To accept I was already a part of our universe we nurtured and grew

In that moment he took my proverbial hand

Shared his words in thoughts only I could understand

Our essences flowed in motion and at last we could dance

Around the illuminating star we made in spiritual romance

Never could I had imagined such a divine moment in time

In what we made together with this shining new paradigm

Where our music held me warm and I could do more than merely observe

And forms we knew transformed and took flight with a relishing verve

We had but a taste of the celestial horizon but knew there was so much to learn

To transcend here in our eternal future is an honor we’d have to earn

Which we shall in every step forward and liberating breath

With every song and understanding from this life into death

But this life of ours is far from over, so we will embrace and strive

The passions and pursuits that make us all feel alive

When we are ready for another journey to begin

I know there shall never be any doubt in…

Where will we go and what will we see

It’s the home and happiness that were meant to be

Where we meet each other in our special place

Beyond what we know of time and space

Our songs of will echo in a harmonic destiny

And we can dance among the nebulas for all eternity

Our souls will soar on a never ending adventure of the unknown

Within our version of pure peace and love where we are never alone~ Dedicated to Kal'dalah, now and forever @konietzko-sylvoran

(( Thank you @twosidedsana for such a wonderful event and time! Cannot wait for the next one! ))

#Talthorn #poetry #story and poetry night #Celestial Journey #Kon #Kal'dalah #hearts of tenacity #eromai epolomono

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noonegetsleftbehind · 1 year

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i debated saying anything, or talking about this at all. i know it's super personal and a very touchy subject and one that a lot of people shy away from or even hide. it's frowned upon to talk about and, for some, i know it's triggering to see it talked about it, but i kept thinking of one thing....

so, if seeing or discussing this is triggering to you? i understand. i get it. look away and don't click the readmore if discussing heavy mental illness topics and struggles/mentions of self-harm and suicide are something that you cannot handle. that is so valid and you need to keep yourself safe. skip this post and read the next and know i love you.

please understand that i am not looking for pity or for judgment. i am simply being transparent and real. i am advocating for mental health and for others that may be struggling too.

i will not go into much detail on what my bad news was. just know that it means another very crushing blow to my already non-existent self-worth and our financial status. it was such a crushing blow that it pushed me off an edge i had barely been hanging onto from months worth of physical health issues (christ i have had 3 surgeries since december and been in and out of the hospital.) it's been hard. it's been real hard and this was something i had put a ton of fucking work into and fought like hell for for over a year all for... nothing. all to be de-humanized and be forced to question what my worth at all is anymore or why i'm even here or why i should bother to keep going at all.

i won't lie. it got dark. it's still dark. i'm still struggling. it caused me to spiral into a near catatonic dissociation. i spent all day in bed crying before i just sat staring and out of it. all my brain could even think of was how much i wished i was dead. it's still there. i still question why i'm here, but i'm getting to the part where that gets a little bit better.

this is not a new fight to me. it's not. i had a complete, ugly mental breakdown in feb of 2020. jesus, february is a shitty month for me historically. i broke while at work - my job that i thought was going to be the career of my life and at the time i was going to college to further my study in. too much stress and too many years of masking and pushing everything away and ignoring...things i hadn't even realized i was doing.... and it was like someone had built a fucking damn around niagra falls. everything came rushing out all at once. these are things i am still trying to even begin to process. and when you snap, find yourself under a desk screaming and crying and trying to claw at your face at work? you don't come back from that. you don't get to stay at that job. my dreams and plans for the future washed away that night.

i didn't give up then. i went into intensive outpatient after several hours in a ward. i spent nearly 4 months in near daily several hours therapy and this was in the heart of the pandemic. it was at this time that i started attempting to finally transition. in the midst of everything, i was denied hrt for health reasons which only set off my shitty feelings and body image more. i closed myself back off and went non-binary again and convinced myself i didn't fucking deserve to live my life as the right goddamn gender and i needed to just accept and live life as a cis-woman. spoiler alert? that shit doesn't work. it will eat you alive.

i attempted to get jobs again. i had a seasonal job that i lost in jan of 2021. i got another job that i was placed in while working with a state vocational program. that one worked out well. it wasn't a fancy or great job by any means, but it was one i could do and could make money from. my boss was nice and i found parts of it interesting, but can you guess where this is going? my health popped back up. first i broke the scar tissue in my right hand where i had carpal tunnel surgery in 2020. then i got a concussion. then, out of nowhere, i started getting violently ill and was in and out of the ER like 4 times in 2 weeks for the worst pain i have ever felt. basically? my gallbladder went to fucking shit. i had to have it removed. in order to do that? they made me quit my job and come back when i was cleared post op to lift again.

i went back to the job. it didn't last long until a mishap with the pharmacy caused me to be off my meds for 5 days. this caused me to have a black out episode where i have no idea how i got there or why i was doing it but i was in the bathroom cutting myself. again. another trip to the psych er. they corrected the med issue and i got to go home. the takeaway from this? please please please please do NOT fuck around with your meds. don't just stop taking them. it's dangerous as shit. take care of yourselves.

i was fine for about a month until more stresses started to come back at me one after the other. they were piling up and i was breaking more and more. i admit it. i have next to none stress tolerance. i can't deal with change, especially sudden and a lot. i can't deal with blow after blow. i literally cannot process it or cope. it sucks and it sounds like i'm just being dramatic or a baby, but i mentally and physically just... can't. it's debilitating.

i found myself walking back home from a doctor's appointment and my ideations were running rampant. the next thing i knew, i started to make a move to walk into traffic. luckily, my brain pulled me back out of it and i damn near ran the fuck back home to tell my wife i was not okay and i needed to go to the er. this time? landed me in a full week of inpatient stay. that entire ordeal caused even more ptsd than i already have. it was traumatic as fuck and took me MONTHS of working with my therapist weekly on to even begin to process. it sucks, it does, but the mental health system is broken as fuck. a place like that should have been helpful and healing to me in a time like that, but it was anything but. it just kept me alive and i suppose that was part of the point and good enough.

by the time i was released, i had lost my job. they didn't even fire me to my face. just told my wife. the end of that year was... not good. nor was the beginning of 2022. i took the opportunity to go ahead and get my other wrist operated on for carpal tunnel and got both elbows (cubital tunnel) done in january and march of 2022 as well.

it was around this time-ish last year that my body image issues started to tank. my dysphoria was so bad i wouldn't even look in a mirror. i hated myself. everything about myself. the body i saw was not me and and i could not continue long that way. i met who became my closest friend and ally in this time. with his help and support.... i fought to fully transition. I literally do not know where I would be without him and I hope he knows that and how much he means to me. i came out publicly and socially completely and in july i finally got to start T. i am just over 7 months in and in may i have my consult for top. i'm getting there.

you would think this would mean i was finally happy and things should be good, right? while i am on a journey that has been a lifetime in the making and am changing daily and week to week closer to my true self? it's a very slow and long process. especially in a time like now when the rights of trans and lgbtqia+ people are constantly being threatened and challenged. it's scary and it's a struggle daily to be who i am. there are a lot of challenges that come with this and it is not an easy road and anyone who thinks we just up and choose to be this way can eat shit and fuck right off. nobody would choose this kind of pain and struggle.

to top that off... in case all of this wasn't clear? i have a giant list of things diagnosed and wrong with me. cptsd, ptsd, mood disorder, severe treatment resistant depression, anxiety disorder, borderline, gender dysphoria, panic attacks etc. these are things that don't just disappear. it means i still go to weekly therapy. it means i keep having to adjust to and come off meds and start new ones etc. it is a constant trial and error and a constant fight to keep going and be able to be better and just be okay. some days i'm fine and some days i'm not. sometimes i can be fine one moment and not the next. this is the nature of the beast.

so that brings us to now. once again... too many stresses.... too many blows one right after another snapped me. i broke and this time the difference is i knew it. i could feel it happening and see all the signs. the positive light here? in recognizing this, i knew i needed to fight like hell. i needed to get help. i knew i couldn't do this by myself. i can't keep going like this. so, i took the steps necessary yesterday to get in touch with my therapist and the location that handled my inpatient stay to get an assessment. this was so fucking hard to do because you run the risk of them saying you need to go inpatient. i took the risk because i knew i couldn't do this alone. bad things would happen.

so, that brings me to where we're at now. after being discussed with the psych on call, my assessment was recommended i do partial hospitalization. php is basically as intensive and the same thing as inpatient except you get to go home at the end of the day. this is the best possible outcome for me. i am scared shitless and it's a huge change and my social anxiety and ptsd for being back in the facility are through the fucking roof. i start monday. i'll be there monday-saturday 8am-3pm basically for 2-4 weeks. after that time, i will more than likely be moved into intensive outpatient for another 4-8 weeks. but you know what? i'm committed. i want to learn. i want to get better. i want the fucking help. it's not going to cure me, but it can damn well help me. that's all i want. (it's also breaking my heart that i now have to miss my best friend's wedding because i can't get out of the hospitalization. once i'm in, i'm in. it breaks me and i know he understands, but i wanted to be there for him and with him and it was important to me, but this can't be helped and i know that. it still hurts.)

so... that's my story. that's where i am. every day is a struggle, but right now... the struggle is damn near impossible. it is excruciating and it is draining of almost all of my emotional/mental/physical spoons/capacity. it makes daily life hard to even get through the day, it makes talking with people like i normally do extremely hard and it makes having enough brain power to be on here and get to anything substantial a crapshoot. some moments i can do it and have a lot of muse and feel the need to distract and writing has always been my favorite coping tool. but i just can't guarantee. i can't make promises about my activity and i hope that's understood and okay at this point. just know i WANT to be here. just know i am TRYING.

again... let me reiterate that i am not looking for pity in all of this. i'm not. honestly? i hope this HELPS at least one of you. i hope it shows you that sometimes it is okay to not be okay. it sucks, but it doesn't make you broken, even when it sure as fuck feels like you are. i hope it inspires someone to get help. i hope it makes someone remember to take their meds. i hope it lets someone know they are NOT alone. i hope it reminds someone to check in on a friend/love one. i hope it nudges someone to come out and be themselves and fight for who and what they are. why do you think i resonate with chris so much? why i love him so much? he fights. he never fucking gives up. no matter what. he grits his teeth together and he fights for himself and everyone he cares about.

"No one gets left behind. Not on my watch."

be kind to yourselves. know that you can always talk to me if you need to. if i have the spoons i will be here to listen and help if i can. know you are not alone. and most importantly?

remember that everyone behind one of these blogs that you're writing with or following... everyone on the street you see... we're all fighting our own invisible battles. you never know what someone is going through. you never know the struggle they're hiding. be kind to people, especially your fellow RPers. respect each other. lift each other up. befriend and love each other. nourish each other's creativity and hobby. stop fucking being so quick to break each other down.

mental illness is just as valid as physical illness.... you just can't SEE it. it's time to start treating it that way. it's time to stop looking down on people for what you don't understand. be glad you fucking don't if you haven't had to experience this shit then you're lucky. listen. be kind. learn. advocate.

Love, J

#|| bsaa file: ooc ||#|| bsaa file: psa ||#tw mental illness #tw mental health #tw suicide mention #tw long post

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littlemisskittentoes · 7 months

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Get To Know Your Fanfic Writer!

first and foremost, massive thank you to @affectionatelyrs for the tag. it made me smile lots 💖

When Did You Post Your First Fanfic?

I’m still such a baby to posting fanfic. I have a long history of starting something, and leaving it to die unfinished.

My maiden voyage of actually finish something and posting was less than a month ago! Only this past September.

First Characters You Wrote For?

Unfinished and unposted? Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson.

First ones other people actually got to witness? FirstPrince, my beloveds.

Main Characters You’re Currently Writing For?

FirstPrince, my beloveds.

I’m also hoping to dive a bit more into June and Nora!

Characters You Haven’t Written About Before, But Plan to Soon?

Nora and Alex’s friendship. I think their connection is so sweet and special. I just haven’t dove too far into it yet.

Platonic Pairings You Currently Write For?

Honestly, I haven’t written too much of the platonic connections within the Super Six into my fics yet. But, I cannot help but give Pez some screen time.

I so completely adore Pez and Henry’s friendship. That being said, I’m also so in love with Pez’s character that I am terrified of writing him and doing any sort of disservice to the enigma that is Percy Okonjo. So, I still find myself straying away from really diving into including Pez. One of these days…

Romantic Pairings You Currently Write For?

FirstPrince, my beloveds. And also, as of tonight, Nora and June!

Your Top 3 AO3 Tags?

1. Hurt/Comfort

2. Fluff

3. ‘No beta’ related tags… 😬

Current Platform Where You Post Your Works?

AO3, baby!

A Snippet From a Current WIP?

A snippet from an assassination attempt WIP, that will still not be posted for quite some time—

“Forever” moved from being feeling, something Alex could feel waltzing in the air around Henry, to something hiding in the corners of their brownstone. It whispered in the steam rising from their mugs– early gray for Henry, coffee with only sugar and cinnamon for Alex. In the way the mug was always hot and waiting for him on the counter when Alex finally dragged himself out of their bed and down the stairs, long minutes after Henry had convinced himself to stir.

(Henry admitted once that the cinnamon was a stolen strategy: one selfishly burrowed away into his memory after tracing the words along the fact sheet that had fallen into his lap the weekend all those years ago. Almost like his own personal four-leaf clover.)

Now, “forever” peeked out from the chain hanging above their sink, swaying softly in the breeze, when they eased the window open in the spring. The key and ring clinking together like piano keys; the melody so far away from the dependence they used to cling to in order to ground themselves.

(Alex whispered to Henry one night, bodies still damp beneath a light sheet. It had been when the touch of their skin against one another was still new. The butterflies still fluttered in quiet nervousness. Both of them were still in awe that they were allowed this now.

Alex’s eyes stayed closed, and the chain along his neck rose and fell quickly with his still-racing heart. He whispered into Henry’s neck that it was funny– how he never took this key off, but he had never felt further from the boy he had been in Texas. Henry had held him closer, let the warmth of his skin pour into Alex’s while the gravity of deciding to go to law school, to relax his grip on the idea of a life he had picked for himself, had run himself ragged trying to hold on to, sunk in.)

“Forever” inked itself into the ring along their left hands, and the phone numbers of florists and highlighted tasting appointments dotted along their shared calendar by the door.

Happy wasn’t novel or exhilaratingly new anymore. It was comfortable and safe now, like the sound of waves lapping at the dock of the lake house, or the echo of solitary footsteps around the marble halls of the V&A.

Perhaps that's why the red of Alex’s blood along his crisp button down, blooming like the freshly steeped agua de jamaica Henry had sipped nervously his first time meeting Alex’s tías, confused Henry at first. He had to hear the pop echo along the street, chased away by shrill screams of people around them. He had to watch Alex watch the spot creep out. He had to watch Alex press his shaking hand, glinting with that damn ring, against his chest. He had to watch Alex’s knees give out and race towards the concrete of the sidewalk before he understood.

no pressure tagging these lovely, lovely writers @inexplicablymine @hypnostheory @happiness-of-the-pursuit

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #fanfic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #get to know me #kittentoes facts

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party-in-eldarya · 1 year

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Part... 3, I think?

In last ep Erika was observing happy couples. She was rather jealous of Chrome&Kareen and Ewie&HH's healthy, happy relationships. She yearns for something like that with her LI (Leif, in my case). So what she is gonna to do? TRAIN ofc! We are looking for someone to train us whether we want it, or not.

My therapist would be proud of myself, I have met someone who is running from their problems faster than me.

I am in Absinth (remember Beemoov!) so I have found Huang Chu, who asked us to babysit Adalrik and look for ingredients for portals.

CHOICE. +5, ofc I would be glad to help leader of my Guard.

Beemoov cannot into building tention. They try to mix serious themes (destruction of Eldarya and creating portals) with lighter (Adalric, who is unable to focus on simple task), but it somehow doesn't work? Remember bimbo Alajea? The moment when things got serious (and Elliot was almost dying) she showed us more serious face. Here, we have Koori joking few days after death of a man caused by her and guards' actions, we have Adalric, who is I admit- a funny character but... if his only purpose is to be a funny, silly character, then do not use him too often. It just takes some meaning from somber atmosphere, IMHO.

It really is, makes me regret we are not able to explore much Eldarya this season. Did they explain to us what is this golden barrier around village of Eel? Valkyon's doing?

Adalrik is enjoying his trip for flame flowers, we are observing him. Erika is wondering why he is so careless and happy, when all is going to DOOM, she wants to ask THE QUESTION. No, Adalrik, it's not about your pretty hair, it's why you are so happy.

Basically "live in a moment", moment. He said some things about Erika being unable to do it and being sour, and it made huge impact on her. Lots of maana on her thoughts. Well (unwillingly)- props for Beemoov for trying to develop Erika.

If it means less inner monologues of Erika, Im on board. This dialogues are so far rather nice, but I cannot make myself care too much for those new characters.

Uh, I really hope it won't mean "it was only a dream" or "and I carried on with my life on Earth, always having my departed friends in heart" ending.

Ok, point for Beemoov: after rather nice speach about doing your best WHILE enjoying your life, we get this lil pearl:

Adalrik notices djinn/traces of it. Their races have a beef, so he is not happy, and surely, it is a bad omen. Was it ever mentioned for next 10 episodes? This season has so many plots and plot holes, perhaps they really want to make it longer?

It's such a bad omen, that they have to run back to Eel. Djinns are able to control people and thus are bad. Koori on the other side is able to make illussions (and control plp with them?). But she is good.

Anyway, we meet Chrome, he agrees that yes, djinn around Eel is bad thing waiting to happen. ERIKA, its all here: not all fey are good. Some are dangerous even for other faeries.

I wonder why they changed this narration and turned it into Templars/humans bad, Charles is H*tler reincarnated.

It seems that djinn in selling Purral illegal objects allegedly from Earth, blah blah. Not bad plot but why adding something new, if we have already many on the plate? Because you would have to write some substance into it?

Goddamnit, Erika had to abandon her mission, so she decided to continue training. I think it means Karenn, Mathieu, Lance or Jamon. Pls be Jamon, pls be Jamon.

Eel is deserted. I am trying to look for anyone to talk to before going for "training" but I guess that Beemoov didn't put any extra dialogue or I am v unlucky. Leiftan must be hiding in toilet with HSL Nathianiel.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

This route was probably meant to be a happy, normal romance, with simple guy from next door. With a twist. Give him some depth, Beemoov. And from what I have read- what you got for him didn't make him more cimplicated.

Mathieu is hurt because Huang Chu didn't entrusted him with picking up...

Is it an act? Because Mathieu is too simple. Why should we fall for guy who is only about chopping heads of? Let him have a threesome with Koori and Lance.

Beemoov is here trying REALLY hard to make me believe that Erika is so competent. By comparison, and that's not much. Erika tries to cheer Mathieu up:

Honestly, if I had a person in my team, a person who is very open how they hate me and their job (it was like first thing he told us the very first day we met)... a person who is unable to remember names of two ingredients, who only spend time with leader from different branch and who never tries to improve... I would hate their guts to. I know, it takes big person to act nicely. I am not big person, and neither is Huang Chu. Both are at fault, but honestly, Mathieu really is hopeless.

And he tries to save situation then pretending he didn't mean Erika. Mathieu, there is only one man less interesting to me in whole Eel, you are safe. You can declare your love and lust to Erika, and I will force her to pretend she is suddenly deaf, with power of Paint.

A) Sorry, what did you say? I turn deaf whenever I see something red or orange.

B) ...and I am sure fight is that one thing that loves you back!

C) *Warcry*

Could be worse. We could met Lance.

Awful, overconfident talk from both of them. Remember when in TO Erika was traumatised by mere thought of water and it took some time for her to overcome it? Last time she was fighting, a man died. BTW, Mathieu promised him that he will be protected. I wonder if he will mention Edgar this episode... SPOILERS they didn't so far.

yea, priorities. I didn't like this whole "warcry" thing from the start. I am just too old and bitter for this *wholesome innocent teen talk*.

Wait, it says how synchronised they are. Does it mean I am suddenly on Mathieu's route? IS IT A BUG????

FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

OK, google translation is really weird here. I hope.

"Mathieu is trying to hold to prolong the pleasure".

CHOICE. I wanted to make our LoM a bit better for future illus, but there is no way I will be rollin on dirt with him in my arms (+5). Dodge it is, then (+0). Erika remembers the name of Mathieu's sword, but she doesn't remember colour of her father eyes. Priorities, Beemoov.

I would like to have only friendly interactions with him, like that one. Pity, that Beemoov makes most of them quite flirty. Perhaps if they gave us more of CHOICES we could balance our LoMs?

OOOh, he was only pretending to lose. I see.

And the third shower this episode. I mean, good from hygene POV, but do we really? Do we really need to read about it? Off to shower then. But first, obligatory peek at Leiftan's statue. They sculpted him pants. Michelangelo did better with his David.

BTW, I wasn't able to talk to Leiftan or really think about my romance. Just saying.

"The following days pass"... WHAT? Where is my LI??? Look, Erika herself admitted that she wants emotional intimacy. But hey, at least my familiar was mentioned (she spent some time with it during those days). Leiftan was so desperate that he asked Erika for a date. + LOTS OF MAANA SPENT ON FAMILIAR. Also, we got a choice that doesn't change our LoM with Karuto, so what's the point? It's the 2nd CHOICE about our familiar this episode... Priorities.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Koori says about her new invention: there are two types of plp. Hot ones in relationships, and morose-lonely ones. In front of lonely Karuto and "It's complicated" Erika. BTW what is your status, O, white animu queen?

Anyway, Party because we deserve it. After all, nothing happened, right? Look. this party would be much more tasteful if it was Karenn throwing it. Or anyone who wasn't at mission.

same Erika. Same.

Same Erika, same.

Karuto admits that dancing and parties are not his forte.

That bitch. Never would I imagine that I would start war for Karuto but what a bitch. Karuto is a good sport. Or maybe he is planning to spit in Koori's soup from now on.

Same Erika, same. I know it's just a bad translation, but yes, finally.

Even here, that pest has to sour the mood. But at least I see Amaya and they play together. Anyways, Leiftan:

He then said I don't bother him at all. and to come closer. *humping frog intensify*

Well, canon Erika is not a very reflective person. Canon one would go splendidly with Mathieu. NOT ON MY WATCH THO.

where is the gif with lady slapping man with bowl of kimchi? Because I need it for Erika.

Anyway, there is a satisfying moment in my story, where Leiftan slowly realise that Erika is in fact, not his THE ONE and that they are not compatible at all. And boy, this is satisfying to write, even if I like "my" Erika more than well, canon.

#playing ane what a joy #ane spoilers

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abrushwithdeath · 11 months

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@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats

[ 📱 — sms ] i’m sorry for what i said.

[ text: ] oh? you're finally sorry?

[ text: ] ya know it'd mean more to hear it in person, right?

#lediableblanc amoureuxdechats #v; ''i cannot hide myself from you. i cannot hide my heart from my heart.'' // lediableblanc amoureuxdechats #((She's being PETTY. I'm sorry ^^;))

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deputyash · 2 years

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I was tagged by @glowwormsmith many months ago to do this “What flavor is your soul?” Quiz as my OCs! I also decided to do one for myself too cause I liked the quiz so much haha. Thanks for the tag I really loved this one! :)

I’ll tag: @strafethesesinners @krenee1drful @foofygoldfish @teamhawkeye @i-am-the-balancing-point @radiojamming and anyone who wants to try it! :D

Dove Ash:

Honey-

"Sugared mel e lingua serpentis." Sugared honey from a serpent's tongue. oh dearest, look how you gleam. how the sunlight dances off your shoulders, how the heavens shine across your wingtips. but you are hollow, hollow, hollow. even the taste of nectar can choke a man. sometimes the sweetest flowers hide the sharpest poison. you lie to yourself, the worst lie of all. you needn't be so obsessed with perfect. the greatest beauty lies in our faults. do you think the moon apologizes for their mara? no, their craters add to their glow. my dear, breathe. you are not an island, breathe, before the honey drowns you. you wish to be lovely, you long to be loved. but did Aphrodite trade her powers for perfection? she did not. you can be beautiful, and also whole. be whole above anything else dear. a heart of diamonds is worth nothing if ichor oozes from it. inward. look within and question how well do you know yourself? little petal are you trying to be a god? why? can a god bloom from sullen soil? no. you are whole as you are.

Vivian Wells:

Salt-

Ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down Excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

Valerie “V”:

Rosemary-

Ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

Me! (cause why not haha):

Lavender-

Oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it's like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.

#I loved this quiz - its so interesting!#I'm still working on Valerie's personality so not sure how accurate hers is but its interesting nontheless #my ocs #dove ash #vivian wells #valerie 'v'#about mee!!!#quizzes

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sleepythetanukipastry · 7 months

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I am back again! This time with my vision fully realized and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Of course, this means that the violence is now fully there and embedded in the work. I decided to make this a different post for that reason. I can keep the other snippet violence free, and leave it as an introduction to my writing while leaving it accessible to those who prefer to not read about all the action. For that reason, I must put this disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER: There is a fully fledged fight with blood and detail. Not gorey explicit detail, but you’ll definitely know about the violence and how that injury occurred. Nothing too gruesome though, just a normal club fight for the most part.

(I’m now going to copy paste my summary from the last post.)

Anyways, this one’s a more futuristic cyberpunk kind of setting and feel to it. The random as hell spark of inspiration came from my delirious and sleep deprived (at the time, they rested afterwards) besties who were rambling about nonsense and then spat out a random club name, “The Ponsy House.” Paired with the fact that I had the Tron Legacy: Reconfigured OST blasting in my ears, KABOOM! New story idea. If anyone sees this and knows what Cyberpunk 2077 is, no I’m not ripping off their character’s name. The name V has a history that predates Cyberpunk between me and my friends. It ties in to his last name as well, Fukushū. I really enjoyed writing this, it was super fun and I hope you enjoy it as much I do. See ya :3

In a post-mortal age where humanity has attempted to perfect itself and hide its flaws, corruption has become very commonplace. The irony is not lost on many, myself included. In a hopeful solution to this infectious problem, I was created by the best and brightest minds humanity had to offer. As such, I cannot be wrong, I cannot lie, but most importantly I cannot take life. My job is to serve as humanity’s guiding light and make sure they don’t stray from the path they set for themselves. Of course, my programming has many embedded restrictions, to make sure I don’t overextend and abuse my power. I cannot kill, I may not be worshipped, I cannot create a government at my discretion. I am simply an observer, advisor, and a hand of gentle guidance to humanity. Of course, this means I am aware of the corruption and crime in the world. I may not act upon what I see or hear, only advise. My processing power is unfathomable, which is what allows me to dedicate a small portion of my attention at all times to the city of Tagac Port. In fact, let me share with you a story that shook this city, and the world.

The bright neon letters burned against the darkness of the night. The name “The Ponsy House'' was a misnomer, for the light-hearted tone of it was a mask for the deeds that took place inside that building. Only the worst of Tagac Port came here simply for pleasure. Those who came for other “matters”, were considered gutter rats of the city. The figure who watched the doorway from the shadows of the nearby alley however, was none of these things. In fact, this young person was none other than one of the elusive street samurai. The corrupt society of Tagac Port viewed street samurai as one viewed a criminal. Unwanted, disruptive, and a nothing but a leech on precious funds. However, I knew otherwise, as it is my job to be all-knowing, fundamentally correct, and impartial. Street samurai are quite legal, and whilst their work goes unappreciated and unbeknownst to the general populace, I am always observing. As I am unable to take life or assist in the governing of humans, this responsibility is left solely to them. The form in which they take depends on their culture. In the case of Tagac Port, bounty hunters became commonplace. To this end, with the permission of the mayor of Tagac Port, I assisted in establishing a Hunter’s Guild. Any given person’s eligibility to become a member was based on the presence of a criminal record and its severity, among other things. It was only a matter of time before castes and groups began to emerge within bounty hunter society. The emergence of those who did their work in certain fashions also accelerated this process. The most prominent and widely known class of bounty hunters is the assassin. Within the Hunter’s Guild however, the highest class with the most honor and respect for their line of work, were the street samurai. As their name inclines, they follow and respect many of the ways and traditions of traditional samurai. It is hard to become a street samurai, as the process for acceptance is very rigorous. They are the reason Tagac Port has managed to teeter on the brink of collapse and eventually find its footing, temporarily, before the process inevitably repeats itself. This street samurai in particular was a young man whose name was unbeknownst to all but I. When asked, he would produce one of two answers. “V” or “Fukushū”. Fukushū is a direct translation of Vengeance in Japanese. As such, he is most commonly referred to as “V Fukushū”. He was widely known for his strangely honorable form of brutality with which he performed his work. His presence at this particular nightclub was no coincidence, a registered bounty of his was said to have been seen frequently here. As it is my job to guide humanity, by consequence I must become intimate with your thought processes and decision making. Which is why I knew from the moment this bounty became registered, V would sign for the hunt. He had been searching for an honorable and legal reason to raze this club and its patrons. He was more than aware of its going ons and reputations, that’s exactly why he kept such a keen eye on it. V watched as a man clearly trying to keep his face hidden walked into the club, hurriedly shutting the door behind him. V pulled his own hood over his head, letting the shadows conceal his face as he followed the man into the club. The noise of the club washed over V as he slipped through the crowd of criminals who thought that they were safe. The duffel bag at his side swayed as the legs of the crowd bumped into it. V watched from afar as the man scanned the room, his gaze sliding over V as though he wasn’t there, before walking through a door marked with a no unauthorized entry sign. V began to move at a more urgent pace through the crowd, determined to not lose sight of the man for long. Just as he reached the door a burly hand gripped his forearm, stopping him short of the handle.

“Can’t you read? Sign says no entry, dumbass.” The bouncer said. V looked up at the sign and back to the bouncer. Without a word, V twisted his forearm up and around so that he could grip the bicep of the bouncer. In a flash V yanked the bouncer forward and kneed him in the stomach, which caused the bouncer to let go and clutch at his midsection. V slipped through the door without a second glance, not wasting a moment in pursuing the man down the hallway. The lights emanating from the doors flashed on V’s face rhythmically as he took long strides. He almost walked past a stairwell but stopped for a moment and listened. The telltale click of polished shoes on concrete reached his ears. V climbed the stairs purposefully, not even allowing the heel of his foot to touch down on the step before taking the next set. V reached the top of the stairs just as the only door in this particular hallway slammed shut. V carefully kneeled down, setting his duffel bag in front of him. Inside the bag lay his katana in its saya. He strapped it to his belt and left the bag in the stairwell. V reached into his pocket and switched on the puck carrying the bounty for his mark. A grainy holographic model of the man he had been following projected itself above the puck. He switched it back off and tucked it into his belt pouch. Just as V reached the door and rested his hand on the door knob, the sounds of a private conversation stopped him in his tracks, stiff and motionless.

“ -eah but what are we gonna do with all this Ink, Harry? I’ve already got both of our city inspectors hinting that if we don’t start coughing up a lil’ more for their pay that they might snitch. Plus, the Hunter’s Guild won’t get off my ass about our business transactions and my club. So, tell me what the fuck you want me to do, huh? I’m a lil’ busy and stressed out if you couldn’t tell.”

“I know, I know! But I’ve heard the city council is changing Tony. They’ve got new members, young’uns who don’t have the same mindset as our old buddies. They think we need change and to sweep Ink off the streets. And now the Guild’s sent a bounty hunter after me, Tony! I don’t know who it is, but the mark is huge and I’ve been tagged for dead or alive capture. We need to sell this Ink so I can get out of the city!”

“...Harry, I think we can figure this out. I’ve been talking to the Asperonis. If we start giving them 25% of the cut, they’ll extend the benefits of the family to us.”

“Tony! 25%!? What are you, out of your fucking mind!? 25% of the cut, Tony we’re barely scraping by with 100% of the cut, what the hell are we supposed to do if we give them 25?”

“If we give it to them, they can get you out of the city and you can help manage the production over in Big Willy. Think about it, if you can set us up a new hot spot in Big Willy, think about all the extra dough we’ll rake in! 25% of the cut to the Asperonis won’t seem like nothing! It’ll all be okay.”

“Yeah, yeah! Alright, how long until the Asperonis want an answer?”

“Tomorrow is our deadline. Let’s start packing your bags and see if we can book you an express train to Big Willy.”

The sound of both men standing up from their chairs and walking towards the door spurred V into motion. He flicked the tsuba of his katana forward and unsheathed his blade. The door was locked, he already deduced this while eavesdropping on their conversation. V planned to cut around the lock of the knob and kick it open, so as to disorient the men. He executed the circular motion perfectly and kicked in the door, startling the men.

“Harry Sprigatonio, I am the bounty hunter from the Hunter’s Guild who has accepted your puck. I have the ability to bring you in dead or alive, but that’s your choice.” V said with a small smile. To V’s expectations, both men drew small submachine guns and started spraying. He ducked low and sliced upwards, cutting off the tips of their guns. The man to the left kept firing blindly, V needed to knock him out of commission. V used a series of punches and blows to knock him unconscious, before turning his attention back to the man he had followed in here. The man looked at his disabled gun, terrified.

“I can give you money, you want money? You want to rule the city, I can make it happen. Whatever you want!” The man blubbered almost incoherently. V pretended to consider before turning serious again. He removed the puck from his belt pouch and flicked it on.

“Put your thumb on the pad.” V said. The temperature in Harry’s face rose a few degrees and snot began pouring down his face, a disgusting sight really. V knelt down, keeping the katana at the man’s throat.

“I said, PUT. YOUR. THUMB. ON. THE. PAD.” V said. The sniveling man put his thumb on the DNA identification pad, barely able to keep his hand from shaking too much.

“Identity confirmed, Harry Sprigatonio.” A clear voice spoke from the puck’s speakers.

“I heard your conversation, anything you want to clarify or tell me? The Head Hunter will take any additional information or confessions you decide to give into account before determining your sentence.” V said. His body language indicated that he was bored of this interaction and did not expect a response.

“Take Harry too! He knows all the details of the meeting with the Asperinos. I’m sure you assholes would love a reason to come down on our way of life anyways.” The man said, having overcome his fear of V and now resorting to anger and spite. V considered this for a moment, falling into an old habit of chewing on his lower lip as he debated how the Head Hunter would react. He still had to figure out how to safely transport Harry through the downstairs of the club. The club patrons wouldn’t be too happy that the owners of this fine establishment had been taken by the Hunter’s Guild. V ripped off a strip of Harry’s suit, ignoring the protests of the man by aggressively stuffing the cloth into his mouth as means of a makeshift gag. Harry’s heart rate seemed to spike as he struggled to breathe solely through his nose, but eventually he calmed down. V cuffed both men and propped them up in the corner. He stood back and observed the set-up which he had created in order to prevent the men from escaping. Chewing on his lip, V apparently decided it wasn’t enough and moved the furniture around the room to enclose the men in the corner. With a small nod, V pulled out a small GPS device and switched it on. The beacon function immediately began to signal to the Hunter’s Guild of a successful bounty and requested for safe transport. A response from the Hunter’s Guild transport dispatch pinged back to his device with an ETA of 20 minutes. V shook his head in agitation, but had expected something of this nature and was prepared. V readjusted his belt as he strode back down the stairs and hallway with an air of confidence. His stride was 1.8 inches longer than normal, and his pupils were overly large, taking in information from the environment at an accelerated rate. V slammed the doors to the main lobby open, making sure to capture the attention of everyone. My own simulations beforehand showed that there was no realistically easy way to clear out the bottom floor, nor was there a way to avoid conflict. However, the way in which V approached the situation could change the initial reaction of the room and enable V more freedom in his first moves.

“I’ve come to announce that as of this moment, due to financial troubles, the Ponsy House is closing their doors! If you could all kindly make your way to the exits, it would be greatly appreciated!” V said in an overly cheery and exaggerated tone. The patrons of the club stared blankly back at V, clearly not understanding fully. V’s heart rate began to accelerate as he grew frustrated and ready for a fight. He reached for the nearest drunk patron and yanked him out of his chair onto the floor.

(The whole story was too long for this post the rest will be in a separate one.)

#cyberpunk #science fiction #samurai #my writing #writing blog #bounty hunter

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panopticon-entertainment · 7 months

Text

The Last Rest Stop on Earth

Mile ∞ tells the story of an old woman, Eve, who cares for the freeway exit/entrance at the end of the world. From her daily routine to a gift from a god, Eve tells of the pieces of ∞ that led her to greatest accomplishment. The story is told in four parts: “The End of the World is a Freeway Exit.”, “The Last Rest Stop on Earth.”, “The Mile Man.”, and “I Am.”

Listen on Youtube & Spotify - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEMF40m4J4A

______

“The Last Rest Stop on Earth is my home. The Rest Stop boasts a beautiful park with a playground and riverside walking path. An R.V. park for the short-timers, the Disgraced, the infinite resides solemnly across a tiny, wooden bridge, at the end of the flowery, road-styled walking path. There is a single restaurant in this lonesome area: a dairy shop with dining in the attic. It is meant for tourists and passer-bys; they do not like bums like us. Bums waiting—sometimes hours, sometimes decades—for our ticket on the Caravan. I do not talk with the neighbors—the other bums. I set my camp chairs facing away from the road hiding me from the foul little community. I despise their culture; I despise their attitudes. So many of them characterize themselves with a hatred for life they had, and even more by a hatred for the natural order. They hate ∞ for in life they refused to believe in her. I have been waiting longer than all of them, and yet I still worship the pantheon that runs our world.

So, I have never discussed with any the specters… the creatures… hauntings that share our home. I am certain they would know of what I speak if I thrust my precocious conversation of the topic on them. Still, I know not what the Resters nor Short-Timers call this dual phantom, nor what they believe them to be. What I do know is no one knows so much as I for on my days off, precisely my Sunday—and many of my evenings—I devote my attention full to these ghouls. These actors… these tales… these Mimes!

The Mimes traverse the walking path. It appears a game of hide and seek—no, a game of cat and mouse—no… See, they smile at each other from time to time. The Walker is not always perceived a threat.

It is a duet. The Walker and the Light. The Walker is truly something frightful on a passing glance. Skin of paper and facial features carved or covered in black tar. Smarmy… commanding. I have no judgment for its image projects too many thoughts and feelings, all of them contradictory. A friend misjudged? A foe sheathed? A villain, a neutral party—I shan’t dwell on it. It invades my mind.

And the Light—the Blur, the Bolt—I have called them by many names. I have settled on Light for they have never given me reason to fear nor moral quandary. Their heart is pure. If this is a vision of death, they enjoyed life.

And what are these voiceless Mimes? I know not.

I have thought them living, but they come too consistently.

I have questioned my mind, my soul, my connection to my body. Are they part of me? I fear it…

I have said I am aged. My living life has far come and gone inasmuch that my memory of what it was like to live is very slight. Being in between all these years has left my mind in a special state. I worry that myself may end up lost. When I started noticing the Mimes, I feared it greatly. Presently, I believe them to be real.

Maybe, I have thought, specters of a life altering event. Either creatures far moved on or stuck with no body but no ticket to ride the Caravan. But what is that event? What are they? This rationale depends on if every night they perform the same dance, but you see, I cannot tell! They spread across the park at odd corners. I cannot keep up. When I catch a clear moment, I log it into my brain. I will watch for it the next night but a different part of the dance that I cannot recall if rehearsed or improvised distracts me away.

The event falls to tragedy—I know that clearly. Although, the fatal blow I have never caught. The Light extinguished on that wooden bridge beneath a single streetlight.

Or, I have considered, they are fragments of reality. Maybe, something from another reality; something past that has become a repeated glitch. This makes them meaningless lines of bugged up intention.

Or even an eternal loop. If, as I have favored, the Walker is the villain, perhaps this loops eternal until the Blur—sorry, the Light—crosses the bridge. Each appearance a new attempt.

What they ARE I find does not matter so much to me as WHO this story befalls. The possibility of meaninglessness has never discouraged my hope a story coincides their blurry and surreal appearances.

Maybe… a young man and an old man. An old man who has taken his advantage over the Light. The Young Man fled the home, or maybe… maybe, changed his way home wary of the strange old man’s stalking eyes, feet, and hands. The Walker, mayhap, fallen mad over love or, more probable, lust driven to unspeakabilities. Ignore the filthy physicality and mayhap just a madly overprotective caretaker. The Young Man while fleeing perhaps prayed to ∞ for a second chance and was answered by A##### instead or a fallen star. Maybe, he lived before ∞ could command her hands leaving the duo glitched.

Maybe, less personal, just a serial killer, or they were just friends and the Light died of a bodily failure. Maybe, they did not know each other at all, and their eternity together is a sick joke by some wanna-be god. A very crummy prank, I say.

I have pondered the idea of just two quirky friends. Short-Timers who’s love for life and the odd kept them here although their bodies ran down I-∞.

I have notebooks and folders and journals of stories of who they may be.

Is the Light scared? If they were enemies, could they have learned to enjoy this existence?

What if they really do tell a different story every time, and I have been too focused on unity? Could they smile together and later fear each other? How many roles do they play; how many can they?

I can make record of them though. The pictures. Yes, the pictures do capture them. The Mimes are blurry to the human eye, but digitally the blur turns to not much more than a haze. They are beautiful.

I have found a piece of ∞.

I love my home at the end of the world.” - ↻

#writing #writeblr #short story #short story series #anthology #part two #mile infinity #og creepypasta #creepypasta #nosleep #no sleep #horror writing #original story #original characters #what if #the what-if room #the last rest stop on earth

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vangoghingdavinci · 9 months

Text

5:04 PM

aug3.23

got my new glasses...

and yes 🙄

i thought of you again as i walked to the mall...

but "cross my heart, hope to die, put a needle in my eye"--- this is the last time 🙄🥺😳💀

7:57 PM

i miss our conversations

i cannot recall ever having such wonderful conversation with anyone...

i'm glad i experienced that with you...

i miss reading poetry for you... maybe i should read poems to B now...

but what poem? all the love poems that i loved i read them to you...

i wonder when i'll stop thinking of you leo...

maybe i'm not thinking about you anymore

maybe i'm just talking to myself...

i really am talking to myself...

i have new glasses... i have astigmatism and etc... i don't like wearing glasses... but the doctor said i should ... i like writing here on the phone....clearer now...

i walked on the way to the mall and i walked back to... i wish the road construction will be finished fast... i think i'll do more walking then:-)

and maybe i wouldn't think much about you.

I'm reading the Hypertext of HerMe(s), Hermes is feminized :-) Her -- for the artist writer herself, ans Me, about her, but she's a multiplicity so with S, pluralized, isn't that interesting:-)

And guess what? the laptop screen is so clear now... but i'm here downstairs... the swing is all mine tonight, last night the moon was so pretty...

and yes, i thought of you as i looked at the moon...

i wonder when will i ever stop thinking of you?

it was okey to be obsessed with you when we were together... but now, it seems strange... i deactivated for a month after i blocked unblocked you so many times... i wonder why even to this day, i still think of you...

leo

i really did not think we would end this way... painful... angry....sad... and empty

we were so full of love

i feel like my love for you spilled over...

But look at us now...

distance was not an issue then, because we were together always in those two beautiful months...

silence

---yes i'm crying now

our soul ties are removed...

but i still cry, i still cry for us... for myself...

i don't feel that gnawing pain in my heart...

but the lump in my throat... that's something i cannot control yet... and this tears... they just fall... almost 5 months... you left in march, we started talking in oct. Oct -March 5 months... March to August that's 5 months too, maybe by September, I'll stop thinking of you...

it's strange to still miss you and think of you after all this time, right? we never met...

i was just so deeply connected to you then...

i never expected that it would be this difficult for me... at first it was okey because of course it's V... then i guess i went crazy when i saw crystal, then the sky full of stars for larisa-- für dich... then larisa's crystal bracelet...

then your silence... all three emails unanswered... and my messages were seen except for two with i'm sorry... a heart for Sir Tony's video... then i'm okey family okey--- then blocked

i still cry...and i'm crying again

OMG, my frist time to wear my glasses... and i'm crying lol

i told lin about my pains... i told him i don't understand why i still cry ... but i didn't say anything more because it took me months and years 2020-2022 to be totally emotionally free from him... that freedom from unrequited "love?" --- or was that attachment?... anyway... that freedom was felt when you came... you made me feel how it feels to love and be loved... we were so fast... the falling in love... and i kept asking what happens after the honeymoon phase... lol... you left

leo, i blocked and unblocked lin millions of times... but he kept following me back and requested to follow afterwards... he didn't say anything, he never asked... he simply accepted that i am crazy lol... he knows that i had very strong feelings for him and he just don't care...

i told him i am hiding again... so he wouldn't wonder why i just vanish after "using" him as a confidante lol... but he's not the way he was... yes he kept telling me, "i'll always be here"... so maybe that's why he just replies... he told me to watch andrew huberman... i did... but lin isn't the lin that he was... he's emotionally unavailable... and so i cannot really talk to him the way I could before...

leo... i think i'm done with my public IG... it reminds me of you...

so maybe, even if i told him about you... i still don't feel that peace inside me... becuase i just told him facts... not feelings...

i'm grateful for lin's change... atleast i know, i cannot rely on him anymore....i only have myself and the heavens...

now that you still cross my mind

i avoid talking to lin too... not that i'm afraid that i might fall for him again... but i might become that needy friend who takes so much of his time... and yes of course... i do not want to expect anything from him...

so my IG is just there but no movement...

i'm sleepy now... i should go to bed...

how i wish we're still talking... so much to laugh about... and selfies to send lol... i would have loved us to have a photo with glasses together ...

you must have deleted our photos...

this end that we have....is simply heartbreakingly amazing

installed spotify again...

then uninstalled...

this is the nearest that i can be with you...

so... what's the playlist for Crystal?...

just curious...

---- hmmm yes...

i know leo, you really don't care... you never cared the moment you walked away...

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