WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU TRUE BLOOD

◆ —— CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL QUOTES STARTER PROMPTS.

❛ They’re safe ❜  
❛ She’s/he’s/they’re safe, just like I promised. ❜
❛ And you get to die for her/him/them, just like you promised. ❜
❛ We’re all men/woman of our word. ❜
❛ This is either madness or brilliance. ❜
❛ It’s remarkable how often those two traits coincide. ❜
❛ Me? I’m dishonest. ❜
❛ And a dishonest man/woman/person you can always trust to be dishonest. ❜
❛ It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly.. stupid. ❜
❛ This is the day you will always remember as the day you almost caught NAME. ❜
❛ You cheated. ❜
❛ Pirate. ❜
❛ You are without doubt the worst pirate I’ve ever heard of. ❜
❛ What’s your purpose? ❜
❛ I confess, it is my intention to commandeer one of these ships. ❜
❛ I confess, it is my intention to raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out. ❜
❛ I said no lies. ❜
❛ I think he’s telling the truth. ❜
❛ If he/she/they were telling the truth, he/she/they wouldn’t have told us. ❜
❛ That’s not true. ❜
❛ I am not obsessed with treasure. ❜
❛ Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate. ❜
❛ You’re supposed to be dead! ❜
❛ The only rules that matter are these: what a man/woman/person can do and what a man/woman/person can’t do. ❜
❛ Pirate is in your blood, boy. ❜
❛ I can let you drown. ❜
❛ So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not? ❜
❛ Drink up, me hearties. Yo ho. ❜
❛ You burned all the food, the shade.. the rum! ❜
❛ Yes, the rum is gone. ❜
❛ Why is the rum gone? ❜
❛ It is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. ❜
❛ The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me. ❜
❛ Do you really think there is even the slightest chance they won’t see it? ❜
❛ There’ll be no living with him/her/them after this. ❜
❛ I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against PLACE. ❜
❛ There are a lot of long words in there, Miss/Mr. ❜
❛ We’re naught but humble pirates. ❜
❛ What is it that you want? ❜
❛ I want you to leave and never come back. ❜
❛ I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request. Mean’s no. ❜
❛ I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean. ❜
❛ Too long I’ve been starving to death and haven’t died. ❜
❛ I feel nothing. ❜
❛ You best start believing in ghost stories, NAME. You’re in one. ❜
❛ No survivors? Then where do the stories come from, I wonder? ❜
❛ If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it. ❜
❛ I want you to know that I was rooting for you. Know that. ❜
❛ It never would have worked between us, darling. ❜
❛ I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know. ❜
❛ How far are you willing to go to save her/him/them? ❜
❛ I’d die for her/him/them. ❜
❛ You need to find yourself a girl/boy, mate. ❜
❛ Who are you? ❜
❛ No one. He’s no one. Distant cousin of my aunt’s nephew twice removed. Lovely singing voice. Eunuch. ❜
❛ A wedding? I love weddings. Drinks all around! ❜
❛ I love this song. ❜
❛ You’ll be positively the most fearsome pirates in the Spanish Main. ❜
❛ You stole my boat! ❜
❛ I borrowed. Borrowed without permission, but with every intention of bringing it back. ❜
❛ It’s frightful bad luck to have a woman on board. ❜
❛ She/he/they go free. ❜
❛ You only got one shot. ❜
❛ We can’t die. ❜
❛ Don’t do anything stupid. ❜
❛ The crew are not to be harmed. ❜
❛ Curse you for breathin’, ya slack-jawed idiot. ❜
❛ You should know better than to wake a man when he’s sleepin’. It’s bad luck. ❜
❛ Savvy? ❜
❛ It’s not worth you getting beat again. ❜
❛ You didn’t beat me. ❜
❛ You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fair, I’d kill you. ❜
❛ That’s not much incentive for me to fight fair then, is it? ❜
❛ The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers. ❜
❛ You know nothing of hell. ❜
❛ How can we sail to an island that nobody can find with a compass that doesn’t work? ❜
❛ I’m actually feeling rather good about this. ❜
❛ You could surrender. ❜
❛ I’m gonna teach you the meaning of pain. ❜
❛ You like pain? Try wearing a corset. ❜
❛ Wretch. ❜
❛ I couldn’t resist, mate. ❜
❛ That’s got to be the best pirate I’ve ever seen. ❜
❛ I cannot just step aside and let you escape. ❜
❛ This shot was not meant for you. ❜
❛ You’re pirates. ❜
❛ Hang the code, and hang the rules. They’re more like guidelines, anyway. ❜
❛ You lying bastard! ❜
❛ Don’t dare impugn me honor, boy/girl! ❜
❛ I always liked you. ❜
❛ It goes with your black heart. ❜
❛ I really rather hoped we were past all this. ❜
❛ Perhaps you’ll conjure up another miraculous escape, but I doubt it. ❜
❛ Do us a favor. I know it’s difficult for you… but please, stay here, and try not to do anything… stupid. ❜
❛ Even a good decision if made for the wrong reasons can be a wrong decision. ❜
❛ Any man who falls behind, is left behind. ❜
❛ Take what you can! Give nothin’ back. ❜
❛ I hardly believe in ghost stories. ❜
❛ We are cursed men. ❜
❛ Will you be saving her/him then? ❜
❛ I can’t swim. ❜
❛ I’m watching over you. ❜
❛ I should have told you from the moment I met you. I love you. ❜
❛ Hang him. ❜
❛ Keep your guns on him, men. ❜
❛ How did you escape last time? ❜
❛ This man/woman/person saved my life. ❜
❛ One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness. ❜
❛ Come out… and we promise we won’t hurt you. ❜
❛ I invoke the right of parlay. ❜
❛ I can’t breathe. ❜
❛ You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before? ❜
❛ I had a dream about you last night. ❜
❛ You don’t want to be doing that, mate. ❜
❛ I’m curious. After killing me, what is it you’re planning on doing next? ❜
❛ Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death? ❜
❛ You forget your place. ❜
❛ So, this is where your heart truly lies? ❜
❛ I already feel like a fool. ❜
❛ I admire a person who’s willing to do whatever’s necessary. ❜
❛ You’re a smart man/woman/person, but I don’t entirely trust you. ❜
❛ I’m not sure I deserved that. ❜
❛ I may have deserved that. ❜
❛ You’re safe now. ❜
❛ You’re despicable. ❜
❛ I saved your life, you saved mine. We’re square. ❜
❛ I can get you out of here. ❜
❛ I’d need a lot more to drink. ❜
❛ It was a good plan.. up ‘till now. ❜
❛ Do not make the mistake in thinking you are the only man here who cares for NAME. ❜
❛ Is there a problem between us? ❜
❛ Every decision you’ve made has only brought us from bad to worse. ❜
❛ Easy on the goods, darling. ❜
❛ I’m not entirely sure that I’ve had enough rum to allow that kind of talk. ❜
❛ He’s still breathing. ❜
❛ Easy on the goods, darling. ❜

I was thinking about how sea salt that you boil in to crystals yourself is so much more potent….and I was writing about maple wine, so it all got me thinking about maple syrup/maple sugar. In some ways, maple sugar and sea salt are perfect opposites – what appears to be clear, pure water, boiled unrecognizable, emerging crystalline, the only difference salty or sweet. And making maple syrup/sugar is a PROCESS: gathering buckets of sap from around the woods, stumbling over snow banks and bushes to bring it to the sugar shack, boiling the sap and constantly feeding the fire for hours and days, going through more wood than you could imagine and watching a gradient of amber spread through the pans, darkening in to rich sweet syrup. If you want to make sugar, you take it boil it even more, evaporating the last of the water in it, the last memory of how it used to flow in a forests’ veins. It takes some 40-80 gallons of sap to make a gallon of syrup, more to make sugar. And making syrup with someone gets real…for a time, you’re popping in and out to go collect the rest of the buckets, but after a while it’s just you and them in a small, maple steam filled shed, usually drinking something homemade and of questionable alcohol content, talking through the day and the night. Or by yourself, with your thoughts and your wishes and your ghosts, though I’ve never done this for long, just fractions of an hour, unlike friends who have spent days there boiling away heart break or trying to get their head and pans level. 

If you need something strong to protect you, you can’t do much better than homemade sea salt. But if you need to barter something, to trade for something big and important and true, I wonder if a homemade maple sugar candy might get you what you’re looking for. 

I imagine you bring it to the edge of the forest. Or more likely, that corner of the dining hall where no matter what hour of the day someone is drinking coffee and almost done a paper they never seem to finish. All the right words… “if it would please you,” what you seek, and their reply, “and in exchange?” So you make your offer: the blood of a forest’s platoon impervious to their wounds, a fire tended, a confession you would never have made otherwise, a week of your life. They are delighted, to get so much for what now seems like so little, and greedily they reach towards you, ready to take what you have promised, and before their hands, or not exactly hands anymore, can find you – you place it on the table. A small maple sugar candy. You’ve pressed it in to a maple leaf mold because hell, if you’re gonna do this you may as well do it right. The air freezes for a second, and you feel your blood still as you wonder if you have misjudged…and then you feel it begin to thaw, the sap to run again. It smiles at you. It doesn’t mind clever, and fortunately for you, it’s a fan of sweet.

[x]

anonymous asked:

Hi Amy, I'm a high school student who wants to major in art history. I know that a large part of history in general is asking questions, however I'm unsure about how to ask better questions, would you give some suggestions and examples of higher level questions to ask about an art work? P.S. you blog is amazing and thank you for all the resources!

Wow, what a great question! Some of my college students don’t ask how they can ask better questions, so I was so excited when I saw that you are a high school student thinking ahead. Thank you! 

I assume you are taking art history at your high school. This is good - your class has already given you the framework you need to move from basic questioning to more in depth questioning. Who? What? Where? When? Why? How? You would think that with art history, the Five Ws + How? would be simple enough to answer. This is not always the case, however, and sometimes the simple questions of Who? or How? or Where? can take an art historian years to answer. A good example of this is attribution: who made a work of art? It sounds like an easy question, but as someone who has shed blood, sweat, and tears on attribution, I can tell you it isn’t. The same is true of iconography (’what’?). On the surface, subject matter shouldn’t be hard to identify or propose, but it can be.  All this to say that if you are worried that asking some of these questions is too basic, you shouldn’t be - you will undoubtedly keep asking them as an art history major, and the answers will not always be easy (or even possible) to find.

Asking (sometimes deceptively) basic questions is all well and good, but how can you ask more in-depth questions about works that are already the subject of lengthy discourse, like the Mona Lisa or the Sistine Chapel? This is, essentially, the writer’s question. To arrive at a probing question, you may want to: 

Practice slow looking. Slow looking is exactly what it sounds like - sitting in front of a work of art and taking time to really look at it. This will be hard to do during a class session, but you can do this after class (or beforehand, if you know the period or artist being covered). As part of the slow looking exercise, write down your initial response to the work, and note throughout your time looking how your initial response has evolved and why.

Question a work of art’s formal elements. Think about color, line, texture, light, shadow, space, perspective, volume… Why do you think the artist made the decisions s/he did? Here is a list of formal analysis questions to get you started. If you email me,  amy [at] caravaggista [dot] com, I can send you the “Questions Sheet” I give to my students.

Ask yourself what ascribes meaning to a work. In a similar vein, you can consider why a work of art is being discussed in class (in other words, why it has been deemed important). Is it the subject matter? The composition? The work’s cultural or historical context? The fame of the artist? The expense of materials used? All of the above, and more? Why or why not?

Look at a work of art using a particular methodology. Art historians use lots of different methods to analyze works of art. If you haven’t yet learned about art theory or methods, consider picking up a copy of Michael Hatt and Charlotte Klonk’s Art History: A critical introduction to its methods (Manchester University Press, 2006). The authors examine the origins of art history as a discipline and explain each major method in practice, from formalism to semiotics (and more!). Examining a work of art using a particular framework can yield surprising and inspiring results!

Read about a work of art you are having a hard time formulating questions for. Specifically, read art historical articles about the work and consider the author’s argument. Do you agree with their analysis? Why or why not? Is there an aspect of the work or its context that you think should be more fully addressed (or considered, in the first place)? What evidence does the author use to support their analysis? 

This is by no means an exhaustive list of ways to ask better questions, but I hope it helps get you started!  There are no bad questions; all questions help deepen your understanding and analysis. 

I’m going to include a break here. After the break, you’ll find recommended reading and resources.


Recommended Reading

Many of these resources are geared toward how to write about art, but I recommend them because the first step in writing is asking questions, and these authors’ discussions could be informative!

Barnet, Sylvan. A Short Guide to Writing about Art. Boston; Toronto: Little, Brown, and Company, 1985.

Berger, John. Ways of Seeing. New York: Viking Penguin, 1977. 

Hatt, Michael and Charlotte Klonk. Art History: A critical introduction to its methods. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2006. 

Huntsman, Penny. Thinking About Art: A thematic guide to art history. West Sussex: Wiley Blackwell, 2016.

Pop, Andrei. How to Do Things with Pictures: A Guide to Writing in Art History. Department of History of Art and Architecture, Harvard University, 2008. 

Taylor, Joshua C. Learning to Look: A Handbook for the Visual Arts. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1957. 

Man I wonder how much of the acceptable answers to the ravenclaw door knocker riddle are just a) pretentious bullshit (“where do vanished objects go” “into nothing which is to say everything” like shut the fuck up Melinda) or b) the most bullshit ass stoner answers like, the above but delivered three times as slow by my dude who has been sniffing the literal magic mushrooms

Like at some point (finals week, second year) you stop trying and just spout some smart sounding stoner bullshit no matter what the question is.

And: Luna is the master bullshitter

Hear me out okay

“What comes first the Phoenix or the fire” “a circle has no beginning”

“And circle has no beginning” would be an answer to half the questions it’s so vague. That’s genius. It’s a ravenclaw meme at this point

Although the seventh years are all dead eyed living off coffee like unicorns blood and they tend to answer “life is a lie and sentience is an illusion” which is technically true and answers the Phoenix question. “Where do vanished items go” “they join all my fucks in the void”

I mean

The door let’s them in. It’s been there

anonymous asked:

Why do you love Arrow? (I'm the same anon who asked why you watch Arrow. Hint : While I love your gif responses it's your words that always hit me so hard so give me some words please Matty)

Oh, anon. Since you specifically wanted words, here you go. This is something I’ve said before and I’ll say it till my dying day. 

I love Arrow. 

Because this show has given me so, so much, I’m not certain I’ll ever be able to express it completely.

Arrow came into my life at a point when I was at my lowest. I was emotionally messed up in every way conceivable, everything had fallen apart, all at once. I’d shut down in real life and was barely coping. It was one big depressive fest. And it was dark. So, so dark.

And then Arrow happened.

I know it sounds cheesy - all this light and dark thing, but for me it was true. I have no idea why, but one day I was watching the show and it just clicked.

And for me, it was beautiful.

It gave me Oliver Queen, who inspired me deep down to my bones, who gave me the strength and the courage to keep moving forward no matter how bad things seemed, to believe that they’ll always get better, making me the silver lines chaser I am today. He gave me the will to keep fighting and I will love him till my dying day. (And he introduced me to the salmon ladder. That in itself earns him my love).

It gave me Felicity Smoak, who told me it was okay to be awkward, that being a hero and being good did not need a mask, that being a person completely comfortable in their strengths and a good heart was more important. She made me realize that a girl should take pride in her hard work and just be who she is, no matter what.

It gave me John Diggle, who honestly speaks words of wisdom to Oliver and I’m nodding my head vigorously. He told me that no matter what ugly things you see and live through, you can rise above them and not be it. 

It made me believe in a love born true from the soul. It made me understand that family and friendships were made of heart and not blood. It made me believe in the strength of the spirit inside each and every one of us, no matter our circumstances. It told me that it doesn’t matter whether you’re a rich kid stranded on an island considered dead by the world; or if you were a soldier who’d lost his brother; or if you were a little girl abandoned by every man in your life; or if you were a pampered princess who finds out her entire life has been built on lies; or if you were a billionaire who’d lost his wife to street violence; or if you were a soldier in love with a woman who loved another man; or if you were a street kid with no family and nothing except this rage inside you that wouldn’t die; or if you were a normal man with money who’d lost his best friend and found him again, only to realize he was a liar and a murderer… it doesn’t matter what your circumstances are - what matters is how you respond to them. It’s your choice to become the villains of your own story, your choice to become the heroes. It’s on you if you want to drown the world in your pain or rise above it and make something beautiful of it. 

It’s always your choice. 

There could have been no greater villain than Oliver Queen had he made a choice. There could have been no force stopping Felicity Smoak from destroying the world at her fingers had she made a choice.

But they chose to be heroes, chose to rise above their pasts for a better future.

It’s so damn beautiful.

Over time, this gave me the courage to rise beyond mine slowly. To step into the fandom. I lurked around and stalked people mostly in the beginning (although it was never that creepy), and over time, one step at a time, I entered this crazy place and was just consumed by the sheer intensity of it.

I know these are fictional characters, but what they inspire in me is not fiction. It’s very, very real and living my life with these characters has made it so much richer.

Because it’s through this show that I’ve met so many beautiful people who make me smile every single day. It’s through this show that I’ve made friends I know are going to stay with me for a long time. It’s because of this that I can come back here on a bad day and leave with a huge grin on my face.

Because it’s this show and its characters who pushed me into finding the strength to put words on a screen. This show made me want to tell stories. It made me realize it was okay to share my thoughts and from being quiet, it’s made me evolve into someone confident enough in her thoughts to voice them. It has given me a tolerance for opinions and respect for choices, all the interactions with such varied people. 

I’ve grown more over the last few years writing these characters than I have in my entire life. The changes it’s brought in me are almost tangible.

It made me want to write and write and write and just keep on writing and sharing so many stories.

It’s given me passion.

It’s given me perspective.

It’s given me understanding.

It’s given me strength.

But most importantly, it’s given me hope.

Hope. So hard to find. So hard to hold on to. So hard to let go of.

This show has consistently given me so much hope, for me.

And no matter which direction it goes in, I will always, always love Arrow and its characters for giving me so, so much when I had absolutely nothing.  

I love Arrow, and I always will, for the person it’s made me so subtly over time.

To kill a Winchester

Characters: sister!reader, brother!Dean, brother!Sam, Mary

Warnings: angst, swearing, blood

Word count: 2225

Summary: when you, your brothers and their mom are kidnapped by a demon, he says he wants to kill one of the Winchesters, but how will he determine who to choose?

The cold air hit your skin as you awoke. You couldn’t see a damn thing, the demon had thrown a bag over your head the second he knocked you out and dragged you to the old warehouse.

You moaned as he pulled it off, you noticed both of your brothers had been kidnapped too along with Mary. They gave you a quick look to make sure you were ok and you looked back at all of them and checked over them for any injuries. You were sat around in a square, all tied to chairs.

Keep reading

I was thinking about how sea salt that you boil in to crystals yourself is so much more potent….and I was writing about maple wine, so it all got me thinking about maple syrup/maple sugar. In some ways, maple sugar and sea salt are perfect opposites – what appears to be clear, pure water, boiled unrecognizable, emerging crystalline, the only difference salty or sweet. And making maple syrup/sugar is a PROCESS: gathering buckets of sap from around the woods, stumbling over snow banks and bushes to bring it to the sugar shack, boiling the sap and constantly feeding the fire for hours and days, going through more wood than you could imagine and watching a gradient of amber spread through the pans, darkening in to rich sweet syrup. If you want to make sugar, you take it and boil it even more, evaporating the last of the water in it, the last memory of how it used to flow in a forests’ veins. It takes some 40-80 gallons of sap to make a gallon of syrup, more to make sugar. And making syrup with someone gets real…for a time, you’re popping in and out to go collect the rest of the buckets, but after a while it’s just you and them in a small, maple steam filled shed, usually drinking something homemade and of questionable alcohol content, talking through the day and the night. Or by yourself, with your thoughts and your wishes and your ghosts, though I’ve never done this for long, just fractions of an hour, unlike friends who have spent days there boiling away heart break or trying to get their head and pans level. 

If you need something strong to protect you, you can’t do much better than homemade sea salt. But if you need to barter something, to trade for something big and important and true, I wonder if a homemade maple sugar candy might get you what you’re looking for. 

I imagine you bring it to the edge of the forest. Or more likely, that corner of the dining hall where no matter what hour of the day someone is drinking coffee and almost done a paper they never seem to finish. All the right words… “if it would please you,” what you seek, and their reply, “and in exchange?” So you make your offer: the blood of a forest’s platoon impervious to their wounds, a fire tended, a confession you would never have made otherwise, a week of your life. They are delighted, to get so much for what now seems like so little, and greedily they reach towards you, ready to take what you have promised, and before their hands, or not exactly hands anymore, can find you – you place it on the table. A small maple sugar candy. You’ve pressed it in to a maple leaf mold because hell, if you’re gonna do this you may as well do it right. The air freezes for a second, and you feel your blood still as you wonder if you have misjudged…and then you feel it begin to thaw, the sap to run again. It smiles at you. It doesn’t mind clever, and fortunately for you, it’s a fan of sweet.

[x]

His Wife in Hiding| Part 2

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,159

Pairings(s): Reader x Klaus Mikaelson, Reader x Elijah Mikaelson (platonic), Reader x Rebekah Mikaelson (platonic).

Author’s Note: Reader is a vampire and a witch. I forgot to specify that in Part One. Sorry :(

 Part One

The car pulled to a stop before the airport. It had been years since you had been forced to flee and yet looking around you found everything to be exactly the same. People jumping in and out of cabs with their luggage in tow, you saw families being reunited and families sending loved ones off. You could be just like them, you told yourself, you could get out of the car and start anew or you could tell the driver to take you home and you could go on living your life in peace. You shook your head at the latter thought. There was no way you could return to New Orleans without taking Klaus up on his offer to work out your marriage. Part of you wondered if that was such a bad thing. But the other part…

Guilt swirled in the pit of your stomach and tears pricked at your eyes.

“Ma’am?” the driver called.

You held up your hand. “Just give me a moment, please.”

He nodded.

Just then the door opposite of you opened again. You rolled your eyes as Elijah Mikaelson climbed in the vehicle.

He glared at him, irrated.

He smiled at you. “Hello…again, sister.” He greeted.

”What are you doing here?” you asked him, irritably.

“What are you doing here? I heard what Klaus said.”

“You were spying on me?”

He snickered. “I was protecting my baby sister.”

You rolled your eyes again.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Elijah told you. “What are you doing here? You’re free now. You don’t have to run anymore. If you’re worried about Klaus not keeping his word you just leave that to me,” he said in a hard voice as he straightened the lapels of his suit jacket.

“I’m not worried. I know Klaus meant what he said…”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I don’t trust myself.”

Elijah frowned at you. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t trust myself not to go back to him. We were terrible together, Elijah.”

“Really?”

You scoffed.

“That’s not the way I remember it.” Elijah said. “You were perfect together. Always in sync. Where one went the other followed.”

“Yeah and gore and death and destruction followed as well.”

“You have to remember that we were all very young and we were all under a great deal of stress. We were all constantly on the run from Mikael and at the same time trying navigate through and ever-changing and evolving world while at the same time discovering the pros and cons of vampirism.”

Your brother sighed when you didn’t respond.

“You don’t have to be that person again if you don’t want to. You don’t have to be with Klaus if you don’t want to but I can see it in your eyes that your feelings for him haven’t changed. Take it from me, sister, the last thing you want is to spend eternity wondering about what could have been. I know you feel guilty, we all do at one point or another, we’ve done some terrible things and the fact that you feel remorse for your crimes means something. But it doesn’t mean that you should spend the rest of eternity punishing yourself and wallowing in guilt.”

He leaned in and kissed your temple. “I love you no matter what you decide.”

And then he was gone.

You looked out at the airport again.

Everything Elijah told you had been true running from Mikael had taken its toll on everyone and your new animal-like instincts and thirst for blood had been nearly impossible to control when you turned. But the truth in Elijah’s words had done little to ease the ever-growing guilt you felt in the pit of your stomach.

X

You looked up at the towering plantation house, nervously wringing your hands. Hesitantly, you walked to the door and knocked.

The doors flew open revealing an angry-looking Rebekah. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she said as she leaned against the doorframe and folding her arms across her chest.

“Hi,” you chirped, greeting her with a tiny wave.

Rebekah scoffed, glaring at you in enraged disbelief. “Hi? I’ve spent decades thinking that you were dead and all I get from you is ‘hi’?”

“Rebekah, be nice.” Elijah chided, appearing behind you and kissing your cheek. He ushered you into the house past Rebekah and into the foyer.

You snorted. “She can’t. It’s not her nature,” you said teasingly.

Rebekah slammed the doors shut behind you both.

Turning to face your sister, you sighed. “I am so sorry, Bex. I wish I had more than an apology to offer you but I didn’t really have much of a choice. The less people that knew where I was the better.”

“I know,” she admitted in a clipped tone.

“I hope you can forgive me.”

Rebekah huffed, walking towards you with outstretched arms. “Of course I forgive you. If I can forgive Nick storing his own family in coffins I can forgive this.” She said wrapping her arms around you. “But if you ever do this again it will be me who is hunting you. Not Klaus.”

Part of you wanted to laugh at the threat but knowing Rebekah she might end up taking it as a challenge.

Rebekah released you from the embrace. “I missed you,” she said with a grin.

“I missed you too, Bex.”

Just then, Klaus stomped into the foyer, his eyes burning with rage. “What on earth is going on down here?” he bellowed.

His eyes fell on you in an instant. He gasped, his eyes practically bulging out of his head at the sight of you.

“Hello, my love.”

His bottom lip trembled and tears pooled in his eyes.

A smile tugged at your lips.

He shook his head in disbelief. “I was certain I’d seen the last of you.”

“It would seem that you were wrong about that.”

He rushed over to you enveloping you in his strong embrace. “I thought…I thought…” his words trailed off as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. He leaned out of the embrace to look at you in awe. “You’re really here,” he said, running his hands through your hand.

With tears in your eyes you stroked his face. “I missed you, Niklaus.”

He laughed. “I don’t want us to ever be apart ever again,” he murmured.

“I agree…but Klaus—”

“I know…I know…we’re going to have to fight tooth and nail to make this work but I’m ready. I know we can do this,” he said beaming down at you.

You nodded in agreement, becoming so overcome with emotion that speaking proved to be almost impossible.

You took his face in your hands and brought his lips to yours. Warmth spread throughout your body as your lips met.

When your lips parted, you were both out of breath and smiling wide at each other.

“I love you, Klaus Mikaelson.”

“And I love you, y/n.”

Author’s Note: I hope you all like this ending better than the first. Thank you so much for readimaginnes

Jesus said to the woman caught in adultery, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.“
And that is Jesus’ word to us who come to Him today in true repentance. “Neither do I condemn you.” No matter what you have done. The things you have never told anyone and you hardly have admitted to yourself. The things you have covered up for so long. What Jesus has to say is: neither do I condemn you.
Jesus did not come into the world to execute judgment, but to save those under the sentence of death, through the shedding of His precious blood on the cross.
John 3:16-17 For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world should be saved through Him.

“It’s interesting, when I’m in my human form, knowing I’m going to die. Everything has a touch of triviality to it. Like how none of this calculus shit matters. The way it shouldn’t. the truth. In 26.4 hours, I’ll be dead, & in happiness. The little zombie human fags will know their errors, & be forever suffering and mournful” 

- Dylan Klebold

“When I go NBK and people say things like, “oh, it was so tragic,” or “oh he is crazy!” or “It was so bloody.” I think, so the fuck what you think that’s a bad thing? Just because your mumsy and dadsy told you blood and violence is bad, you think it’s a fucking law of nature? Wrong. Only science and math are true, everything, and I mean everyfuckingthing else is Man made. My doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. Well, I think that anyone who doesn’t think like me is just bullshitting themselves.” 

- Eric Harris

#snapeloveosts #10: the first war with Voldemort

Nineteen year old Severus Snape, the Halfblood Prince, surrounded by a violent chanting of “Toujours Pur”. Men and women who find value in ‘untainted blood’. A cult that started out a meritocracy - you earn your value with hard work and dedication to magic - and quickly escalated to a violent competition of inherited value.

Severus made up all sorts of excuses for himself to stay. A lot were just desperate; he needed someone, anyone to see him; the violent ones are just a fringe group, not the mainstream; he earned his place, he’s “not like the others”. Some were true; there’s no way out, they’ll kill him; they’ll kill his family and loved ones, he can’t endanger them more than now.

When Lily becomes a target, he knows these promises of proximity safety were void. Families aren’t safe. He isn’t safe. Everything is going to hell no matter what, whether he stayed loyal or not. Whether he escaped to Spain or stayed in the U.K. Whether he chose a side or not, it will be chosen for him. So he goes to the only person he thinks has any power to protect his family. He needs to know that no matter what happens to him, his loved ones were safe from his actions.

It’s just another desperate excuse, he tells himself, but he needs something, anything, to keep him going.

*~*~*

People who call Voldemort a ‘wizard n*zi’ have no idea how close to true they are, and prove themselves ignorant bc in the same breath they whine about “racism”, when really, there is already a real-world precedence for the use of ‘blood purism’: Torquemada and the Spanish Inquisition not only targeted Jewish families, but also people who were related to Jews, going back generations as far as records allowed. To, you know, “purify blood”. This practice was adopted by n*zis too (we’re not Jewish, but we were on a watch list bc great great great great great grandma was. So. Narrow miss).

So you can see why I have no tolerance when a bunch of assholes call a Jewish queer coded character a fuckn n*zi, have you no shame or respect.

Tsuzuku’s Blog 2017/02/14 Translation

Method of Concatenation-for the 49th time-

-Here comes the moon again.-

The waxing and waning of the moon
It’s as if it is like the “present”

Time passes
and once again I’m here, crying out.

The scene which should have been visible to my eyes
repeats as well,
and changes into the sight I see before me now.

Again and again this time goes around
In contrast to my ever-changing emotions,
today, too, the always rainy weather remains unchanged.

The moon begins to ascend again
and these unlaughable words are fluttering midair.
It’s like
a mermaid that swims through the wreckage.
A beautiful
and catastrophic sight
laughing before my eyes.

A screaming voice
Sounds splitting open
Shadows become deeper as the fragments solidify
My train of thought is interrupted
and someone knocks on my eardrums.

The temptation to overflow
and disturbed thinking

Eagerly awaiting… and hiding away
The shape of my mouth I forcibly stare at is a beast I endure as if I were letting my guard down.

My chest hurts
A current runs and rattles through my back
My back seems like it’ll break at any moment
My chest seems like it’ll open the door at any moment….

I become weak every time I fight
It becomes painful every time I fight
Constantly back to back fear and discord,
year after year…
How long will I have to suffer like this in order to go on living.

It’s okay to run away.
The beast always seemed to do that.
I’m running away for the sake of living
Eagerly awaiting… and imploring the chance of feasting upon my prey.

Serenity and wine
Imbibing the lies

If you pay attention, happiness is flawed
If you pay attention, you don’t even realize you’re clinging onto the pain.

No matter what the pain and the agony extended your gentle hands.
Through the fruitful times you spend in happiness that are
“the true meaning”,
the pain and the agony are given to you vividly.

What do you seek and move forward for?
What do you seek and wish for?

If you try to put it into realization, it’s like a game of Sugoroku returning back to square one.

Will I myself ever seek and move forward again?
Through the vortex of pain and agony

Through the warm-colored darkness too,
I empty the glass.

*******

The demon which took a bath in its victim’s blood laughed

“How’s the feeling of living while counting down until your death?”

While doing whatever with your mouth.

Whoever it is that’s in my heart, they are the one who’s lurking around.

One

Two

Three

I count the numbers with a child-like tone.

When I was a kid I played with building blocks.
Stacking them up higher, higher
and tearing them down with such vigor that I frolicked amongst the scattering blocks
That boy is laughing loudly.

Even that boy who’s before my eyes right now isn’t an exception.
He has also been devoured.
By the demon hidden away inside my heart.
By the demon stained red as it bathed in its victim’s blood.

Next time it will surely be my turn.

Keep your eyes peeled, without blinking either
That boy is headed this way.
Up until now it’s like I’ve never seen him come alive.
With his ecstatic expression,
he seems to be happily
intertwining with and skipping straight towards me.

I wonder if this is the end.
Is it okay if that boy appears to be having fun?

…so, what the hell is with this uneasiness
This chest of mine is throbbing…

It’s like my brain is also accepting this feeling that I won’t even realize it may be lost in the next moment
How fun…

Ah… I, too, shall be devoured
By the “BOY” lurking inside the same heart as that boy.


“How are you?”

anonymous asked:

AU, Vader sues Bail for custody (either the Empire is intact and he has standing or its gone and he absolutely doesn't, whichever is funnier)

Wilhuff Tarkin had not expected that he would end up back in front of a court in a matter concerning one of Anakin Skywalker’s children ever again – let alone less than five years to the day that he argued for the execution of Skywalker’s erstwhile Padawan for crimes against the body he now scoffingly referred to as ‘The Republic’.

Nonetheless, fate was an odd chap and Skywalker, sans Jedi pretensions, stood before him, enrobed in black, entombed in the respirator and death’s head mask that made their enemies quail so delightfully. Across from him, on the neighboring floating dais, was Senator Bail Organa. The Emperor had cited imperial prerogative and so, although he adjudicated the previous Skywalker case, he was off relaxing on Mustafar or some such hell planet.

Tarkin steepled his fingers before him, reclining in his chair and envying the Emperor. He would not have to deal with the fallout with Skywalker. Or rather, Vader, whose tantrums were somewhat more deadly than the boy’s had been.

“If you have entertained enough ceremony,” Vader boomed irritably into the silence of the judicial chamber. The child hitched over his shoulder giggled and he bounced her, provoking happy shrieks. “Shall we not commence and get this farce over with?”

Tarkin twitched a finger and Vader took that as license to burst in motion, pacing and pointing angrily at the opposing dais.

“The case before you is simple, Grand Moff Tarkin. This criminal posing as a Senator stole my child!”

The girl did seem to actually like Vader. That was a point in his favor regarding her lineage as it was difficult to imagine any other child, of any age or species, not screaming in bloody terror the entire time it was in his presence. Instead, having been done up with a fancy smock of Naboo silk and brown hair woven into little fan shaped buns atop her head – contra the round buns Alderaan favored – she seemed well cared for, happy, and entirely oblivious to the hulking abomination that currently clutched her to a panel of buttons on his chest.

“Sir.” Senator Organa sighed. He looked deeply aggrieved, but also simply frustrated that he was in the position of making his case in a court he took to be biased. Tarkin was offended at the thought. Organa was obviously rebel scum, but Tarkin would make sure justice was served. “If it pleases the court, I motion that this case be dismissed.”

Tarkin perked up.

“On what grounds?”

Organa gestured smoothly to encompass the entire proceeding.

“On the grounds that this is a civil case and yet his allegations are criminal in nature.”

“Hmm. Just so.” Tarkin thought it over and directed a piercing look Vader’s way. The black eye pieces met his gaze blandly. “Vader, keep a leash on your temper and refrain from any undue charges of criminality. This is a custody case, not a kidnapping case. It is within your purview only to prove that you are the rightful father of this child and that you are due custody or visitation rights. Is that clear?”

Vader growled something incomprehensible. The girl wiggled and said, loud enough for Tarkin to hear, “Down!”

Vader bent double to set her carefully on her feet and she toddled to the edge of the platform. Organa’s eyes went wide and he rushed to the side of his own platform, as if to reach her. Vader turned his head and made a small flicking motion, forcing Organa to stumble back.

“A simple blood test will confirm paternity,” Vader said. His mask was turned, attention on the child.

“You understand there are complications in using such evidence,” Tarkin replied.

He was not aware of the rationale behind concealing Vader’s true identity. It seemed to be a long form practical joke on the Emperor’s part – which meant Tarkin was truly disinclined to ending it without permission. However, much as he esteemed Darth Vader, he was willing to let such consequences fall on him.

“I am,” Vader snapped.

Tarkin nodded and turned to Organa to see what kind of rebuttal the man had. Organa had thrown his shoulders back, standing straight and nearly as tall as Vader, with his hands held behind him.

“Paternity is no mere matter of blood. I think you will find, written into the statutes of the Republic and carried over into the Empire, that legal standing of persons with a certain –” here he waffled, trying to find a delicate phrase, “– a certain spiritual connection did not allow for direct custody of biological children.”

Jedi don’t have custody of their own children, Tarkin translated. As he recalled, it was true. Jedi were born to the Order, not to their parents.

“Intriguing,” he said aloud.

“As without the pre-existing custodial chain for such children, they are then legally adoptable. I have such paperwork as establishes my legal adoption and custody of Leia Organa,” the Senator concluded, pulling a small datapad from his sleeve with a flourish.

Vader made a slapping motion, batting the datapad to the dais floor. Organa glared and rearranged his longcoat as he knelt to retrieve it.

“And I think you can see, this man is no fit guardian to any children! Let alone his own,” Organa added.

A chill fell over the court.

“Children?” Vader asked.

Organa swore softly to himself and looked very much like he wanted to snatch Leia up and run.

my instinctive response to that line was BUT YOUR GRANDFATHER—

(see this post)

but, oh right, that’s not how blood relatives work. assuming natsume’s maternal grandfather was an exorcist, even if natsume’s mother had, say, a half-sibling in an exorcist family, said half-sibling wouldn’t be related to reiko by blood. which is too bad, because it would tie in with something else from chapter 73 to make a pretty juicy connection. still, we can get some interesting implications. (here be manga spoilers)

Keep reading

You are

We are all lost and afraid, at times. Red-eyed, broken hearted, and filled with a thousand, thousand wounds which have never healed. Walking around with hearts blood coating our sleeves as we continue to look for home. Stumbling into one another for such brief respite, only to inflict damage and to garner more wounds of our own.
Will you let me tell you something? You are loved. Not in the “we are all worth loving” sense, although that is true, but in reality. Right here, right now, you You are loved beyond your comprehension. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in all of your life. Crimes perpetrated, scars given and received, none of those things matter in the least. You are a treasure beyond any price, worth more than you will ever know. I believe in you, no matter what. Just believe in yourself, and know…you are loved

Like The Sun

Originally posted by fuckyeahanthonyramos

A/n: Hey guys! Coming at ya ;) I got an idea for this fic last night and I stayed up writing this. Please send me feedback, it means a lot to me :) I hope you guys like it ! -Gia

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x Reader

Setting: Modern AU

Warning: Character Death, and a bit of sadness


I could see the puff of my breath in the cold winter air. Fortunately, the park was empty this late at night, meaning I could think freely without any interruptions. The worn leather-bound book in my hands was only in case someone would pass by and attempt to speak with me. My head leaned back to look at the sky. Despite it being the midst of winter and the snowstorm we had earlier, the sky was surprisingly crystal clear. My eyes could see the three stars that lined up to make Orion’s belt. I let out a humorless laugh as I remembered what he used to say to me back when we were  together.

“ I don’t understand why you don’t like your freckles,” He said as he looked down at me. I had my head in his lap as we were both reading books while lounging at home.

“It’s because I used to get teased about them in middle school and high school,” I shrugged as I turned the page of my book.

“Well I think they look like constellations, each freckle is a star in the sky.” He traced a few of them with his fingertip, “These specifically look like Aquarius. Y’know aquarius was named after Ganymede, the cupbearer to the gods in Mount Olympic. In the myth, Ganymede was the most beautiful boy alive and Zeus was so enchanted by him that he took the form of an eagle and abducted the Ganymede.”

I smiled up at him, “You’re such an astronomy dork.”

He smiled at me as he continued, “But I bet if Zeus saw you, he’d say Ganymede is nothing compared to you.”

Blood rushed to my face as buried my face into his stomach, “Stop it, Philip, you’re being cheesy.”

“But it’s true; well I’d pick you over Ganymede any day,” He chuckled softly.

Keep reading

cuntdestroyer03  asked:

Admin Mawile❣ How would the brothers react to an s/o trying to have a bond, even if small, with them? Like napping with Shuu, or pranking people with Ayato? If you could, can you include what you imaging as bonding as well (like what the S/o is trying to do?) I'm sorry if I'm asking for a lot but I looooove your work and the effort you put into it as well as never sugar coating who the brothers are 💖👌🏻

Admin Mawile: (〃⌒∇⌒) Thank you!! 

Shuu (napping with him, trying to be quiet and not bother him):

-It’s annoying that you’re trying to get so close, and you’re a stupid human for thinking he’d ever have real feelings for you. It’s better that you’re finally cooperating and not making trouble for him, but he can’t help but be disgusted by the pathetic effort to reach out to him. 

Reiji (Obeying him, trying to meet his standards without arguing):

-While your efforts to be a more acceptable, well-mannered servant for him are much more pleasant than the usual fuss, you should know better than to expect any reciprocation. You’re prey and nothing more, and no amount of compliance will ever change that. 

Ayato (offering blood, going along with what he wants to do):

-Cooperating might make him hurt you less, and he falls for it distressingly easily. As soon as you start calling him the best, you can see the satisfaction in his eyes. It’s unlikely that you’ll be able to draw real feeling out of him, but you’re definitely securing a place as his favorite human. 

Kanato (catering to his every whim, agreeing with him):

-Quiet, submissive dolls are always better, and at least you’re smart enough to obey. You’re much more pleasant to be around now that you know how to shut up and be a good doll. He honestly doesn’t understand what you’re trying to do, and sees it as finally having broken you. 

Laito (entertaining him, accepting certain activities):

-He seems to be delighted with your compliance, and takes every opportunity to praise you for being so good for him. Despite the kind words, he’s as cruel as ever, and you can’t help but feel like you’re being used, like there’s nothing genuine about the affection he’s so willing to give. 

Subaru (keeping him company, while trying not be a bother):

-It’s annoying that you won’t leave him alone. You should be afraid of him, not acting like he’s something you can just make friends with. He goes out of his way to be more ferocious than ever in the hopes of scaring you off, and only gets more and more frustrated when it doesn’t work. 

Ruki (obeying him, showing interest in things he likes):

-While it’s good that you know enough to obey your master, he doesn’t like that you’re trying to act for yourself. If he wanted a bond from you, he would be the one to initiate it. It’s hard to find a reason to punish such obedience, but you’ll still be getting a thorough lecture on the matter. 

Kou (giving him what he wants, praising him and his idol business):

-At first, he accepts your sudden adoration as natural. It’s exactly how human women are supposed to behave, and only after reading your true thoughts does he realize that you’re much more serious. Then, in a slight panic, he resorts to manipulating you more than ever. 

Yuuma (helping in his garden, offering blood and sugar cubes):

-He takes the affection at face value and accepts whatever you want to do. If you want to bond with him, that’s your problem, he’s just going to enjoy the easy meals and extra help. Unconsciously, he might wind up feeling fondly towards you, but it’s unlikely that he’ll realize it. 

Azusa (hurting him, letting him cut you):

-You’ve basically won his eternal love. Since you hurt him so nicely, you must really care about him. Accepting pain from him too just solidifies the idea in his mind, and he becomes convinced that he’s someone very important to you. It’s worryingly easy to win him over. 

Carla (being respectful, submitting to his will without question):

-Your current behavior is exactly what he expects from a meager human. You should submit to the First Blood king in every way, and not just because you’re seeking some pathetic connection. He’s not going to lower himself to dealing with your feelings, so you’ll be allowed to carry on with it. 

Shin (trying to keep him amused, offering blood):

-He mostly just thinks it’s hilarious that you’re trying to reach out. You must be stupid for thinking that he’d ever really care about you, and despite how pleasant your methods are, he can’t help but want to mess with you even more. You’re a fun human to toy with, that’s fore sure. 

anonymous asked:

*Romanced* DAI companions react to the Inquisitor's death? Extra angsty, if you please.

I am feeling Super Angsty tonight! So here you go, anon!


Solas: No! It was not supposed to happen this way! She was supposed to be safe! He left to keep her safe. And instead she died for her own stubbornness. She should never have chased him. He should never have encouraged her. He should never have let himself get attached in the first place! And now she’s gone… She was the only one who could touch his heart in this world of walking shadows. She was more vibrant even than the elves of Arlathan. And just like them, she’s only a memory.

Blackwall: She deserved better, so much better. She deserved better than him. She deserved better than her fate. She deserved to be happy. She didn’t deserve the stress and responsibility that the Anchor had saddled her with. She can’t be gone! She’ll wake up. She’s not really gone. She can’t be…

Cullen, as told by Cole: “He holds her cooling body, rocks her against his chest. Wrong, impossible. Stop. Wake up. Breathe. Hot tears stain her face. Mine. Hers? She was meant for great things. Now she’s nothing. No! Never nothing. She’s still the woman I love, who taught me to have strength when nothing is left. She’ll never stop being that.” Cullen, it wasn’t your fault. She loved you, too.

Iron Bull: In the Qun, kadan is a term reserved for one who cannot be lived without, who shares space in the chest with the heart. My kadan was even more than that. My kadan taught me what love could be, something I never thought I’d know. Wake up, kadan! Don’t leave me after all of this. Come on, Boss. I still owe you a drink, remember? Katoh… Katoh…

Josephine, as told by Cole: “Hot tears that won’t stop. I can’t see their body. I can’t bear to see them like that. They can’t be cold and stiff and still and gone. Each time someone opens my door, I expect them. Look up and always think it’s going to be them, smile in place, kiss waiting. Sitting before the fire, missing their touch. Cold sheets, cold bones, without them here to warm me.” This isn’t what they wanted. You know that. They wanted you to be happy no matter what.

Dorian: Damn you, amatus, no! You come back to me! Damn it, you come back! You still owe me three sovereigns… And I… I love you, amatus! Don’t go… Please don’t go! I’d rather submit to my father’s fucking blood ritual than let this be true! Just come back to me! Oh, amatus, don’t go…

Sera: Honeytongue? Wake up. Wake up! You have to wake up! No… no sleepin’, not now! Come on, this isn’t funny! Joke’s over, now just wake up! Inky? NO! No, no, no, no, NO! Don’t you leave me, not now! I’ll make you so many cookies if you just wake up! Come on, wifey! You’re not allowed to die!

Cassandra: This cannot be the Maker’s plan! He was too good, too pious, for this to be His plan. I refuse to accept it! After everything, after all of this, he can’t just be gone! Is this the Maker’s only blessing? Is death the only answer? I still love him. How can this be what I’m meant for? I love him…

Twilight Princess || Starters

If there is anything you desire then I shall desire it , too .  
Are you sure you want to be doing that ? Snarling & glaring at me ?
❝ He told me he wanted me to be strong like you .   
You must use your courage to seek power … & find it you must .
❝ No matter what , a fake is a fake , & no matter how much you try to dress it up , the real thing always wins !
Your current power would disgrace ____ .  
Your people had some skill, to be sure … but they lacked true power .
Go & do not falter !
I was planning on helping you … if you were nice .
 I believe I understand now just who & what you are .
 I … see you later . 
 So you choose . & so you shall feel my wrath ! 
 What ? Say something . Am I so beautiful you’ve no words left ?
It was your eyes . All saw it , a lust for power burning in your pupils …
The history of light & shadow will be written in blood !
Can you at least promise me this ? Just come home safely .
An impressive looking blade … but nothing more .
He/She who wields such power would make a suitable king/queen for this world , don’t you think ?
This world … ALL worlds can be cruel .
 I want to thank you for being so kind to someone like me …
❝ No matter how much you may desire otherwise , you will never be more than a shadow in their world .
So , you’re … ____ . I’ve been dying to meet you !
Wait , are you … The savior ! It’s you , the savior !
❝ I follow the strongest side … That is all I have ever known .
 Those who do not know the danger of wielding power will , before long , be ruled by it .
Sorry , but as romantic as this is , I’m not going to stay here with you , I’m getting out !
What an honor you know my name .
This gift was meant for you .
Shadow & light are two sides of the same coin , one cannot exist without the other .
Tell me … Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls ?
 So , you’re not absolutely stupid after all !
This village is full of idiots .
 I … I knew you once …
A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage .
Welcome to my castle .
Your heart & mine were as one .
Would you hear my desire ? To take this foul blade … & use it to blot out the light forever ! 
Not just for me , but all our people … lend me your power !
❝ Ha . Such conceit .
 Ewww … That wasn’t good for my appetite …
 Light & shadow can’t mix , as we all know
You don’t have to look so sad !
Hmm - what to order , what to order … I do believe I will start with meat .
❝ A question for you & all the people of ___ : Life ? Or Death ? 
 … You were imprisoned ? I am sorry .
You still live… How astonishing .
Your words are kind & your heart is true .
Shadow has been moved by light , it seems .
 When we were young , you & I … You were always there … You were always beside me …