ash-bright

Hades ascended in his war chariot to confront her, wreathed in shadows and flame, pulled by dark horses.  The dryads of the poplar and willow trees fled before him, and the grasses shriveled to ash under obsidian hooves.

“BRIGHT LADY. I OFFER A THRONE. A KINGDOM. A CROWN. DESCEND WITH ME. RULE OVER THE HALLS OF THE DEAD”
His voice echoed with centuries of stone, his eyes bright with black flames.  


Persephone eyed the tall and terrible Lord thoughtfully. “You’re scorching my violets.”

—  The Illustrated Hades and Persephone, Megan C. Lloyd
youtube

Exeunt by The Oh Hellos

I was all alone, we were young, you were like wine
Heady as the fog rolling in o'er the hillside
Lovely as the song in the air as the wind blows
Opiate as the cold of the frost on the windows
Lo, the rose is gone from my eyes (so deceiving)
So, my little dove, I’m afraid I am leaving 

 Now, I am not the fool I was when I was younger
Crocodile eyes, I have seen how you hunger
Fluttering your lashes, like ashes and embers
Warm and bright as fire devouring timber
No, I cannot trust what you say when you’re grieving
So, my love, I’m sorry, but still: I am leaving

Even when you hunt me with ire, relentless
Batter down my door when you find me defenseless
I will not abide all your raging and reaving
I have set my mind and my will: I am leaving

We were Gods - Chapter 3

Lost in the Woods; a song about Artemis

The day she goes mad-
No.
All right.


She remembers she liked to hold Apollo’s hand; little clumsy fingers solid intertwined with her own delicate ones.
People tend to forget that they’re twins, separable only by gender.
She remembers all the times they’ve curled around each other with her head tucked under Apollo’s chin and his hands caressing the soft fabric of her cotton shirt.

“They’re one,“ her mother used to say and “They know each other’s soul.“

Sometimes they communicated in words and gestures only, almost as if they had their own special language.

Apollo said sun and she said moon.
Apollo said Hamlet and she answered why Shakespeare when we can watch a mother tear her son apart every day.
Eventually Apollo said hunt and she said death.

She never answered after that again.

She should have known, that some things were not meant to be.


There’s a fist fight going on at the schoolyard. Artemis knows it, before she sees it. Sometimes she feels as if something pulls her magically, an invisible thread she can’t cut. It’s Apollo, of course.

Asterion pulls her brother off the tangled pile of limbs and hands and fists.
Bruised lips, heaving chest, solar flares in his eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with your brother?”
Someone shouts at her. It’s Hermes.

She turns her head in slow motion, soaks in all the little details around her - worried glances, Medusa’s wild hair, Ariadne’s hand on Asterion’s shoulder - her eyes rest on Apollo’s face.
He’s troubled. Mad. Wild.

She doesn’t know.
She doesn’t know.


Artemis is a wildfire.

She’s a force of nature and she burns and singes and blazes.
There’s gasoline in her veins and smoke in her lungs.
A heart of a flame, ash on her skin, smile sharp and cutting.

Touch her and you’ll burn.

Fire, has always been her element.

After all, in order to rise, a phoenix always has to emerge from its own ashes.


Sometimes she walks through the woods alone to breathe free.

There’s something utterly serene about yellow burned sun rays that try to cast their hazy blurs through the thick canopy of reddish leaves.

Sometimes she screams.

No one stops her after all.


The day she goes mad-
This mission has been complicated.

It should have been a standard kill job, but the target had been slippery and surprisingly well trained.

Artemis sighs.

The mission has been clear: kill.

But Artemis watches the soft dark curls that fall into Callisto’s eyes, how the girl brushes the single strand behind her ear and bites down on the soft pink cushion of her underlip in concentration.

Artemis is poised and, if she wants to, she could take the shot. She has done it before, to other girls, other men in other cities. A bullet in the head, a knife between the ribs and the girl would just be another body in the river, floating out with the tide.

The finger around the trigger twitches - Callisto turns around, chest heaving, eyelashes fluttering shut.

The mission resets abruptly. Objective kill: override. New mission: protect.


“Technically it wasn’t on fire,” Apollo says and pushes the metallic, shiny lighter back into his jeans pocket. Artemis snorts and watches the flames soaring around the building.

She turns around abruptly, tugging a sleek Walther PPK between the rim of her jeans and her back; the metal cools her skin in an instant and she takes a deep breath.

When she turns around, Apollo still looks at her, his smile razor sharp with cutting edges.
Perilous.

“Of course it wasn’t on fire”, she says and opens the door to her car, “You completely blew it up.”

He doesn’t deny it, but takes his place in the passenger seat.


At times it feels as if her head would split in two.
Constantly torn between how people want her to be and trying to figure out who she wants to be.
She wants to kiss boys and make them cry.
She wants to kiss girls and make them love her.
She wants to love brutal and fierce, yet vulnerable and easy.
She wants to climb and hunt and run wild and free and get into fights.

She simply wants.

Sometimes, that’s already too much.


The Day she goes mad -
she can’t pull the trigger.

She wears a black, well-worn leather jacket that makes her shoulder look broader than intended, her hips narrow and slim; the bright, shiny Rouge Allure lipstick from Chanel on her full lips glistens in the sun. She drags a row of perfect white teeth over it but it doesn’t smudge.

Orion leaves the gas station with a packet of Wrigley’s Extra chewing gum and a bottle of coke. His jaws are chewing fast and hard and she observes the way his muscles work, how his throat glistens in the sun from a fine layer of sweat that reflects the bright sunlight.

“Should we let him know we’re on him?” Her brother asks bored from the side, his feet dangling from the hood of her black, shiny Volkswagen GTI. A cigarette dangles between his lips and Artemis observes the way the red glimmer in the ash flashes bright vermillion before it dies back to crimson again. The ash rains down on the sandy road.

“Now”, she finally breathes and turns around, the weapon steady between her delicate fingers, “Where’s the fun in that?”

In the midst of Winter (2/?)

Fandom: Game of Thrones / Jonerys. Genre: Drama / Romance. Rated: M. Also on: fanfiction.net and Ao3

Summary: The great war is coming. But it’s not so easy to focus on it when you’re overwhelmed by revelations and love …

You can find chapter 1 here

Guys, thank you so much for all the likes and comments on the first chapter. Your encouragment really means so much to me! I’m sorry it took me a while to get the second chapter out. But I hope the length will make up for it. I hope you’ll like this one too :-)


Chapter 2: Winterfell

The snowflakes drifted to the ground in a wild dance, sticking almost invisible to Dany’s white winter coat and her silver hair. They’ve been on the road for days now, riding through the landscape which was mostly hidden beneath a white blanket of snow.

Winter was here. No doubt about that.

With it came the cold and soon the undead, but still it looked marvelous. But the most marvelous sight was the man beside her. Covered in his thick fur coat, snow shining like bits of bright ash in his dark hair and an upright position on his horse’s back he looked all like the Northern King he was. Since they’ve been on the mainland she yearned for him and his touches. They’d slept several times together on the ship but since they traveled by horse it was difficult to steal some private moments. Someone was always watching, especially Jorah, Davos and Tyrion who eyed them with interest. They had probably already discovered what was going on between their King and their Queen. But nevertheless Jon and Dany decided to keep a low profile. They didn’t exactly want to keep it a secret but they didn’t intend it to be the center of attention either. With that would came questions they didn’t know the answers to. Not yet or at least they weren’t ready to speak them out loud. The only thing regarding Jon that she was absolutely sure of was, that she was madly in love with him. Some days this feeling still took her by surprise. For example when they hid in a corner to steal a kiss. Wasn’t that the behavior of lovesick children? Was that how rulers should act in a time of war?

But it just didn’t feel wrong. Quite the opposite, being with him felt good. Like she was finally at a place where she belonged.

All her life she had longed to return to Westeros thinking that it would mean to return home and when she set foot on Dragonstone’s shore a voice in her mind whispered the liberating word to her. Home.

But now, when she was with Jon, not just in a physical way but also when they talked, laughed, even argued, the whispers started again. Home.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Were 'all' humanoid faeries really pale/light skinned with straight hair or is that just a thing humans like depicting them as?

Oh, darling, no!  “Humanoid faeries” are as varied and unique as humans are.  With skin tones like ash, sunset, and the bright blue of smoke and hair like leaves and vines and waterfalls.  Skin like bark or scaled or unnaturally smooth like rover stones.  Humans are horrifyingly unimaginative (and racist and ethnocentric) and there are every kind of humanoid faeries you can imagine.  

Take me for example.  My skin is the crystalline silver of frost.  My hair like the wildest cascading waterfall, dark blue like the midnight sky and speckled with stars.  My eyes are the deep sapphire of the lake.  But my King has skin like charcoal with a texture almost like tree bark.  His hair is a wild cloud of branches and shadow.  His eyes are the the cruel glint of obsidian glittering in the moonlight.  

There is a sylph in my court who wears a gown of monarch butterfly wings that she harvested and sewed herself.  Her skin is the soft orange of dawn, her hair wispy strands of hair that frizzed around her face, her eyes the bright unmerciful sun at noon.  

I have walked with dryads who has flowers for hair and bark for skin.  I danced with elf knights whose clothes were sewn from leaves and their skin was the beautiful copper of a summer sunset.  The faeries that serve as my honour guard are as unique as any humans on this earth, with skins like the fertile soil and the moonlight and the red sunrise.  Hair that is braided with vines, wild curls kept in place by tightly woven flower crowns with thorns, long hair that floats behind them like mist.  

I am so sorry this world has deceived you.

A Talk At The Bunker

Oliver stepped out of the elevator and came into the Bunker like a pariah. His mood was a dark one, as if heavy rain clouds filled his mind with storms.

Oliver had left the apartment an hour earlier. Felicity was still asleep on her side of the bed. He tenderly put his lips on her forehead as if kissing her dreams, dressed for the office and began to go over in his mind the Mayoral duties waiting for him there. He made a quick stop down the hall to check on William. The kid was still sleeping. He hovered in the doorway for a few seconds, wondering if he should go in the room and kiss his son as well. But with only a month gone by since returning from Lian Yu, Oliver could not gauge if that was enough time to be that personal with William. He slowly closed the bedroom door and let himself out of their apartment.

Over the past couple months, Oliver found it was difficult getting back into the normalcy of his responsibilities. The events on the island and the aftermath took his life in a whole new direction. It took away from whatever calmness and celebration his victory over Chase might have brought. But Oliver really didn’t see it as a victory, mainly because of what it did to William. He thought of what Felicity said to him at his birthday party about putting his feet up and relaxing. Even before Chase, that scenario was always a hard sell to him and it made him uncomfortable letting his guard down. Yes, currently there was no viable threat to the city, but Oliver felt that it was his duty to keep his radar on. He suspected that would always be a part of him, purposeful and adamant when it comes to protecting his city.

But there was another dynamic to the changes wrought by the Lian Yu incident. It brought Oliver into new territory, something he had no kind of training in. It brought self-doubt and uncertainty to him like a wave of broken glass crashing on the shores of his failure.

William.

It was Felicity who made things a bit more easy for him after they got back. She was what gave his life such familiarity and she knew the inner tides that made Oliver tick.  She is the one constant for him in the five years she has been in his life. All those years he kept getting in his own way by making bad decisions and lying and hurting those he loved, Felicity still had faith and trust in him, still kept him close and helped to steer him from losing his way in the darkness. When the island exploded (a sight that still filled his dreams with nightmares) all he could envision was what his life was going to be like without her; an emptiness consuming Oliver like a living, breathing abyss showing him just how far despair can take a person. And then he found her amid the smoke and ashes, a bright emanation shining in his heart. It was a moment that will always make  him smile. They looked at each other, covered in soot and sweat and relief and verbally consummated their life together by saying ‘oh yeah, we’re married.’  They crashed together in defiance of the carnage Chase created. An actual wedding ceremony was just a formality.  But one thing didn’t and never will change—Felicity will always be his first and last thought of the day.

However, William is another matter. Oliver told Felicity that his son is the purest part of him. He is innocence and trust and belief. Samantha gave that to him, gave him a sense of family and home, that nothing will ever hurt him. And then that reality shattered when Samantha was consumed by Chase’s killing fires. In one suicidal gunshot, William was bereft of his childhood, perhaps to the point of never feeling safe again. Confusion and grief and fear were his new companions, playmates that had nothing to give him but loneliness.

Oliver could feel the emptiness of the Bunker as he climbed up to the platform and sat at Felicity’s workstation. Sometimes he could still feel all the turmoil and loss and darkness that permeated the Bunker over the past year. It lingered in the air like the smell of burnt toast, cloying and dank. Felicity’s search algorithm was the only sound echoing in the room as it looked for that next person to step up and infuse evil into the city again. Oliver ignored the computers and kept his focus on the strife that his son was going through in the wake of his loss.

Then he heard the smooth whine of the elevator ascend to the empty campaign office above. Its door slid open and Oliver heard the faint click of high heels enter. The door closed and the elevator came back down towards Oliver’s solitude.

**

Felicity assumed when she woke up this morning that Oliver was already at his office. She got up and went down the back hallway of the apartment and checked on William. He was still asleep in his room. Felicity was worried that the boy was sleeping too much. In fact, William had been spending most of his time staying in the bedroom, really only coming out when hunger touched his grief. It was something Felicity wanted to discuss with Oliver. But since coming back from the island, she knew he was not comfortable talking about William, as if the shadow of Samantha’s death hovered over them like a predatory bird. In spite of her and Oliver committing themselves to one another back on the island, Felicity still had some tiny reservations on giving any kind of advice to him on how to integrate William into their lives.

After Riasa arrived to watch over William, Felicity left the apartment and drove to the Bunker. She wanted to upgrade some software she had recently installed that would ping the phones of every Team Arrow member. It was an addition to her search algorithm that constantly surveyed the city 24/7. She would have the Bunker to herself, without any distractions while working.

She arrived at the old campaign office and entered the elevator. As she rode down, Felicity tried to adjust her thoughts, away from the Oliver’s dilemma over his son.

The door slid open and Felicity was surprised to see Oliver sitting at her workstation.  “Hey,” she said to him as she came into the Bunker. “What are you doing here?”

Oliver turned around at the sound of her voice. “I was driving to City Hall earlier and fully intended to climb behind my desk and do City Administration things, then I was pulling up outside and climbing into the elevator. Suddenly, I wanted to be alone. Is that a set-back for me?”

Felicity walked up to him, leaned down and softly kissed him. “Uh maybe…” she replied. “But at least this time you went somewhere I could find you.” Both of them remembered when Oliver disappeared after Moira was killed.

Oliver’s expression stayed neutral despite the softness of her lips on his.

“Oliver, what’s going on?”

He shifted in his chair and started to avert his gaze.

“No, uh-uh Oliver,” Felicity admonished him. “Don’t you dare try to avoid me.  Inclusion, remember?” Suddenly, she climbed into Oliver’s lap, using her body to keep him grounded. “Now, tell mama what’s wrong.”

“Felicity…”

“Oliver…I know what’s wrong. This is about William, isn’t it? Please don’t tell me you came down here to brood?”

“Felicity, are you going to let me talk?”

She fell silent. “I’m sorry,” she went on. “Yes, you can talk.”

“Thank you.” Oliver looked into her waiting eyes. “Uh yeah, it’s about William. Felicity…I don’t know what to say to him. And I’m scared that if I don’t reach him now, he’s going to drift away.”

Felicity felt the tension clenching his body. “Oliver…I know this is hard for you. But I don’t know if it has anything to do with…well, with how William was a barrier between us at one time.”

Oliver shook his head. “Felicity, it’s not that. It’s…he’s not a secret anymore. I just don’t know how to approach him. Maybe there is a part of me blaming myself for Samantha…”

Felicity put a finger to Oliver’s lips. “Oliver…no. We already talked about this. Chase was responsible for her death. You did everything you could to save your son. Samantha was collateral damage.”

“Yeah…I know that,” Oliver responded. “But Felicity…he lost his mother. I’m coming from personal experience here. That kind of loss is not so easily overcome.”

“Oliver, I don’t want to tell you how to interact with your son, but maybe your mother’s death is a good place to start with him. Maybe if you shared with him what you went through, he might not feel so alone.”

Oliver nodded in recognition. “You are probably right,” he acceded. “But how do I let him know his pain is not…that it can’t define him?”

“Oliver, it’s a connection you will have with him, a commonality. Just let  him know you’re his father and that you’ll be there for him no matter what.”

“How?”

“Like you do with me…with love.”

@hope-for-olicity @louiseblue1 @almondblossomme @scu11y22 @flowerandsunshine @it-was-a-red-heeler @lovelycssefan @tdgal1 @memcjo @dmichellewrites

I Hear You Talk, I See You Speak //Baekyeol//

Pairing: Baekyeol/ Chanbaek

Word count: 1,577

summary: Baekhyun was an artist going blind 


When would the bright colours come back? 

When would his glasses start working again and help him see anything, just anything, but smudges of dull colour?

 The large, tinted orange sun sunk bellow the trees, like ashes of bright green-grey.  Baekhyun’s hand moved to his cheek, flicking away the tear with a nudge of his gold-rimmed glasses. 

 Closing his eyes, he let the wind brush through his hair and tickle at his skin. A light smile drawing to his lips as the wafting smell of home cooked dinners carried past him in the breeze. 

He didn’t really want to open his eyes. 

 A sigh left his thin lips as Baekhyun fought with a comb; brushing it up along small strands of his hair to fluff it up. 

The brown colour he had died his hair for 180 dollars was now black. Dull and boring, like his eyes and pasty skin. He could barely notice the double eyelids he had coughed up 2000 dollars for when he was younger. 

 He looked so plain. Like a 1940’s TV actor. 

“I want everyone to just…express how they feel!! Let your brush guide your hand” the studio teacher said to the room full of students with wide movements of her arms. 

 Baekhyun stared at the white canvas, then down to the pallet. Blobs of grey tinted greens, reds and blues. Dipping his brush into what looked to be a blue colour Baekhyun began painting the sky, adding swirls of the black to match the sky he had seen the night before.

As the class was packing up, the studio teacher called out to him, stopping him from leaving with the rest of the class. 

 "I have good news!!“ 

 Baekhyun smiled a little for her to continue 

 "A scout from the gallery of Seoul came to see your artworks!!” She said, catching the younger man’s attention. 

“R-really?“ 

“Yes! He chose not one but three of your artworks to put in the gallery!“ 

"Three…?" 

"Yes, remember the one of the tree! And the portrait and the-" 

 Baekhyun’s eyes trailed down from the teacher, connecting with the wooden flooring, dotted with paint. 

 "Sorry, but could you please decline” Baekhyun said, the teacher stopped with a flabbergasted expression. 

“Baekhyun, this is everything you’ve dreamed of. What are you saying?" 

"I’m sorry but…they’re all from last year…" 

"So?" 

"I can’t…” Baekhyun stopped as he remembered the three artworks he was most proud of. The bright colours he remembered that stained the white canvas. 

 "I can’t do that anymore” he said before turning, leaving the teacher in the empty studio, shocked. 

“I like your hair, you seem a little artistic" 

Baekhyun stared at the man sitting across from him. His phone with an article in the large font, forgotten in his hand. 

The college cafeteria was filled with students eating and talking loudly.

The large area causing the sound to echo and pang him Baekhyun’s ears. Though the man’s voice was loud enough the drain it all out. 

“You’re an art student, right?" 

Baekhyun nodded, a light feeling bubbling in his chest. 

"I’m Park Chanyeol. I’m a music student" 

"Do you like it?" 

Chanyeol’s eyes glowed as Baekhyun nodded his head to the music coming through the ear piece. Eyes closed. The base sending delightful shivers through his body as he smiled. 

 "I really like it” Baekhyun said, opening his eyes when Chanyeol suddenly threw himself on to him. 

 "Thanks, Baek. It means so much to me" 

 Baekhyun nodded, cringing slightly at the loud voice right next to his ear. But as he stared at the taller man who clung to him, bubbles of delight and shyness filling his chest. 

Yet something in Chanyeol’s words nagged in the back of his head. 

Why does he talk so loudly?

It was a late evening. The sun was just starting to disappear behind the horizon. The spotlights onto the basketball turned on for the students still dribbling it out. The college art studio was on the 4th floor of the building, however, Baekhyun’s small, personal studio and gallery was placed on the 5th. 

 The light flickered on as Baekhyun stepped in after Chanyeol, closing the door behind him. The taller man looked around in amazement, spinning in slow circles to take in each artwork hanging from the white walls. 

 "They’re amazing Baekhyun” Chanyeol uttered, stepping towards one in particular. 

 It was the quietest Baekhyun had ever heard him talk. 

 "It’s you” Chanyeol smiled at the portrait, patches of vibrate pinks and blues, greens and reds replacing the normal tones a person would possess. A large grin was painted onto Baekhyun’s soft features, one eye shut in a wink. 

“You should smile like this more” Chanyeol said with a chuckle till Baekhyun stepped up beside him, observing the painting with a look Chanyeol almost thought to be hate.

 "I like this one too” Baekhyun nodded softly, contrasting the look in his eyes. 

“It used to be so vibrant but now it’s…not” he laughed bitterly. 

“What do you mean? It’s the most vibrant coloured here” Chanyeol glanced between Baekhyun and the painting. 

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s still obvious what the colour is. But soon it’ll all be the same as the others” Baekhyun shrugged before looking back to Chanyeol who’s brows were furrowed and his lips pulled into a frown. 

“I’m going blind, Chanyeol" 

Chanyeol pulled him into a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite sure but Baekhyun thought he felt tears soaking into his shirt. 

“Byun Baekhyun. I’m telling you! your hair was not black! It was brown” Chanyeol argued as he towelled Baekhyun’s hair. 

“I thought it turned black again…” Baekhyun grumbled in defence. 

They were sitting on Chanyeol’s bed, the two cross-legged and facing each other as Chanyeol rubbed the fluffy towel on Baekhyun’s hair. 

A large grin was spread across Chanyeol’s face as Baekhyun began to whine about when he could finally see.

“Okay! I think it’s dry enough. Let’s go!” Chanyeol gleefully leapt from the bed, pulling Baekhyun along with him. 

Swinging his room door open, Chanyeol lead Baekhyun to the floor bathrooms, avoiding Baekhyun from any mirrors on the trip there. All whilst he shouted loudly about how great it looked. 

“It’s good, right?”

Baekhyun glanced to Chanyeol’s rightfully happy reflection, then back to his own with a gaped mouth. 

“It’s pink..it’s really really pink" 

Aside the ugly, orange painted wall behind them,  the pink of Baekhyun’s hair was the only colour not tainted with the dreadful grey. 

“I really really like it” Baekhyun broke out into a smile before turning to Chanyeol, who stared at him expectantly. 

“Huh?” Chanyeol asked as if he had missed something. 

“I said!” Baekhyun hugged him “I really really like it" 

“I’m so excited!!” Chanyeol yelled shaking Baekhyun in his arms as they stood on the train. 

“Shhh, Chanyeol you’re too loud” Baekhyun scolded but the taller just continued humming loudly and shaking his hips in some sort of dance. 

Baekhyun couldn’t help but laugh, gazing at the taller’s handsome and amusing face. He wanted to remember. He watched to etch the charming grin into his mind. Caught in a trance till he caught an old lady seated near the door scowling at them.

 "Chanyeol be quite” Baekhyun whispered but the other kept bobbing his head and humming.

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun hit Chanyeol’s arm, making the man jump slightly with wide eyes as he stared at Baekhyun. 

“What?“ 

"You’re too loud…you can yell when we get there” Baekhyun said and Chanyeol’s eyes dropped slightly 

“Oh, sorry” he chuckled nervously before leaning into Baekhyun and pressing a finger to his lips. 

“Shhhh" 

 Baekhyun laughed and stared into Chanyeol’s sparkling eyes. 

 "You have such a pretty laugh, Baekhyun. I love it" 


They arrived at the stadium the concert was being held in high spirits. Baekhyun laughing as Chanyeol danced excitedly next to him as they went toward the ticket collector. 

 "Seats 245 and 246, stand 3” the ticket man said then pointing his arm to the left where gate 3 was. 

 Baekhyun nodded and headed forward Chanyeol following him quickly. 

“What did he say?” Chanyeol asked 

 "Just the seats…“ Baekhyun said 

 "Ah” Chanyeol laugh “I couldn’t hear him from down there. He was almost as short as you" 

 "Hey!" 

The concert started, the band entered the stage as the crowd cheered. confetti bursting into the stage song after song. 

 Baekhyun was mesmerised, the lights and falling confetti soaking into his brain. The large crowd they were a part of, jumping in time with the beat. 

He had been to concerts in his younger days but not when he really appreciate how beautiful it was. 

As Baekhyun swung his head to the music he looked over to Chanyeol. His large grin falling when he noticed the other had his eyes closed. 

Baekhyun stared at him. This wasn’t what he wanted to remember. but he felt as if it was going to stay with him forever. The tears.

Tears were falling from Chanyeol’s closed eyes as a large smile was plastered on his face. 

But Baekhyun could only stare. 

Chanyeol finally opened his eyes as the song finished and looked to Baekhyun, noticing that the shorter man as staring at him. Quickly whipping his cheeks and laughing, Chanyeol pulled Baekhyun closer and hugged him. 

"I want to remember it, Baekhyun” Chanyeol whispered and Baekhyun felt tears soaking his hoodie as the latter held him tightly. 

“I’m going deaf, Baekhyun”


2

Favorite Autistic Headcanons in Marvel Comics and Movies

Billy Kaplan (Wiccan)
Bruce Banner (Hulk) (explanation, explanation)
Drax (Drax the Destroyer)
Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)
Illyana Rasputin (Magik)
Gamora
Jane Foster (Thor)
Peter Parker (Spider-Man) (explanation, explanation)
Scott Summers (Cyclops)
Peter Quill (Star-Lord) (explanation)
Thor Odinson (Thor) (explanation)
Tony Stark (Iron Man) (explanation, explanation)

(Feel free to ask me to give more detail on any of these headcanons to add to the explanations provided, including my reasoning and personal interpretations.)

Undone

This is my contribution for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash writing challenge. I chose the Mirror, Mirror prompt and I’ve written it in first person narrative. It’s super late due to moving and my boyfriend proposing, but here it is! I loved writing it. The question is, should I continue this or leave it as a one-shot? @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash & @negans-network 

Summary: O/C accepts Negan’s marriage proposal but is jealous and possessive. When Amber makes a comment, it almost sends her over the edge but Negan falls with her. 

Word Count: 2,613 words

Warnings: jealousy, insecurity, fluff, teasing

______________________________________________________________

I see the champagne flutes come together in unison, but the distinct clinking of glass and the laughter that follows is drowned out by the sound of my blood thumping between my ears. And before I can stop myself, I see my hand reaching out, latching onto the first thing I see – the back of a chair, as I try desperately to steady myself.

Funny how a few words could leave me feeling like all the energy had been zapped out of my body, as if I had run a marathon but was left panting miles before the finish line in defeat.

Why am I like this? Why do I always do this to myself?

My other hand grips the flute, filled to the rim – compliments of Tanya, yet I can’t bring myself to take a sip despite the voice inside me begging for courage, pleading for everything to go numb. Instead I stare into one of the many vanity mirrors lining the wall of the dressing room, looking at the reflection of someone who resembled me. The tanned skin, the ash brown hair, the bright hazel eyes, all just as I remembered, but there was a lack, a loss – something that wasn’t quite there anymore, something that not even a bit of blush or freshly painted lips could make up for.

Keep reading

After it was done, I couldn’t go back to my life. You understand, right? It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t tell if I loved myself more or less. It wasn’t until later, when I moved in with him and stood outside on our patchy imperfect lawn, that I remembered what had been circling in me: I am beautiful. I am full of love. I am dying.
—  Ada Limón, from “After You Toss Around the Ashes” in Bright Dead Things

anonymous asked:

Ok Ronan IS catholic, but if Kavinsky is bulgarian that means he is probably Orthodox and has all kind of weird borderline heretic beliefs (us Bulgarians have the WEIRDEST shit as part of our church beliefs and literally no other church has some of our shit bc Reasons) but the best shit we have is namedays (u get cakes & flowers on the day the saint ur named after died/was born). I need K to explain this to Ronan and I need Ronan to be outraged (like my catholic friend was when i told her lmao)

Okay first of all I’d like to say that someone needs to tell me to stop because you talked about something so simple that could have been an easy conversation… and here I am. I’m back from the war, covered in old bullet wounds, I’ve developed a taste for fine wines and winter has finally come. There is so much angst in this single post that it could literally power a city like screams in monsters inc.

For you @officialedmundcorcoran (@ing you even though I can’t @ you lmao) I hope my name day stuff is okay???

(ANOTHER THING I MUST STRESS: please check the tags for trigger warnings!!!)

Keep reading

Guess there arent any luke / bodhi fics around so i'll have to write my own

AU where instead of soulmates marks showing you something about your soulmate, it shows you something about /where they are/.

Bodhi has dunes of sand stretching across his back, but the two sums over it are as much dissapointing as they are exciting - his soulmate is not on Jedha. They are not, as far as he knows, anywhere the empire rules. In the dead of night and the silence of a cargo’s cockpit, its a comfort.

Luke has a field of stars and foreign ships painted in the empire’s colors. An imperial pilot; and he wants to join the academy and find them so much it burns. It’s not Biggs, he doesn’t think: the cold emptiness of space replaced sand dunes and mysterious statues on his flank long before Biggs left for the academy. (But still, crushes are crushes, and sometimes Luke hopes.)

But then, after Biggs has told him about joining the rebellion, and in the space of a few days, Luke’s sides hurt and burn and the images change and change and change, faster than they ever have, and the empire’s shuttles and flag vanish so fast it’s like they’ve never been there at all. (For a day or so, Luke /hopes/. They have defected, he is sure. They’ve joined the rebels. Maybe it’s Biggs; maybe it’s one of his friends. Either way, Luke is getting up there, as soon as he can, and with time his uncle will surely understand. He has been raised on the stories of Cliegg Lars coming all the way to Tatooine to free a woman from slavery, after all.)

But then fire and ashes replace the bright stars, and the image stops changing. For a terrible day, Luke is certain that his soulmate has died, before he’s even managed to find them.

And then, well. There are droids, and a princess, and a handsome scoundrel and so many things happening all at once that Luke has no time to /think/, no time to even notice that, slowly, the blackness on his side is lessening.

It’s only after the battle of Yavin and the destruction of the death star that he is introduced to the team that has made all of this possible, all of them bedridden and injured but all of them /alive/.

And that is when he sees the Pilot in a Bacta tank, and the sprawling jungle and old pyramids stretching across his back shoulder to shoulder, and for the first time, their mark matches.

A Magical Moment Prequel: Hidden Love

Movie: The Maze Runner Au

Characters: Newt x Reader

Written By: Lauren

(Requested) I really love the Newt one shot, A Magical Moment. You do mentioned that Newt had a horrible break up with his ex and he went to Y/N, right? I was wondering if you could write it more detailed or something? I would really love to read something like that! - @mazetangle   ( Thank you for requesting :) x Lauren )

I flopped down onto the plushy sofa that was placed right in the middle of the living room, sighing to myself in relief at the acknowledgement of completing the very last homework that was on my list before the weekend. In the background, calm instrumental music was playing softly as I laid on top of the soft fluffy cushions with my eyes closed, enjoying the ambiance that my house provided. I could here the loud pitter patter of the rain outside as the heavy droplets fell from the sky and landed on the ground, as well as the loud whistling wind that sounded along.

Not far away from me where my fireplace was stationed, the flames of the fire that were trying to reach for the sky was slowly turning the log of wood into pieces of soft grey ashes as its bright sun- like flames invaded it, the sound of it crackling echoing softly. Sitting on top of the coffee table, two huge Bath and Body works candles were lit up with a steady flame, giving off the strong aromatic scent of Twilight woods that floated around the house.   The environment was peaceful, cozy and comfortable in fact, and it would have been so easy to just fall into the depths of sleep right there and then as I laid there on the couch.

I could feel my eyes slowly being heavy lidded as I laid there with an arm placed above my head, my self consciousness slowly drifting its way to snoozeville as I felt my mind spinning around slowly. Loud bangs being pounded on the door pierced through the peaceful atmosphere like a knife all of a  sudden, and I was immediately jolted out of my sleep and rolling off the couch in shock. I landed on top of the soft furry carpet with  loud thud, and could feel the aching that began to blossom in my head once I got up. Making my way to the front door swiftly, I rubbed the aching pain that was left on my head with smooth circle rotations and placed my hands on the cool metal doorknob once the banging got louder.

Irritation was slowly being written on my face as the banging became consistent and the only thing that was running through my head was goddamn it, can whoever is banging be a little less impatient and have mercy on my innocent front door. As I twisted the door knob and pulled it open,  I was already planning the words that I had in mind to whoever was outside but that all stopped and vanished into thin air when my eyes was meet with the sight in front of me.  It was as if my heart was quickly floating up to the top of the sky like a rocket being launched before falling onto earth and shattering into a million pieces as I beheld the sight in front of me.

I didn’t know which feelings were dominating me as I just stood there, silent,with my hands that were placed by my side starting to shake.

Newt’s eyes, the ones that never failed to provide me with comfort and love, were red and bloodshot, nowhere near the familiar dark browns ones that I loved so much. The edges of his eyes were swollen and puffy, immediately giving away the fact that he had been crying, and the lenses of his eyes were glossy with the the tears that brimmed at the edges of his eyes. Pain was etched all over his face as he stood there, silent, and I watched with the feeling of devastation and shock as the remaining tears rolled down his face and fell onto the edges of the sweater that he wore. I didn’t know where to look first, from the swollen redness of his eyes to the way he seemed as if the entire world of his had just plunged into pitch black darkness. The cogs in my mind were spinning at a pace that was so fast that neither did I thought it was even possible as I took in Newt who was right in front of me. His usual fluffy dirty blonde hair was now wet and  sticking in all directions. It didn’t take long for me to piece the puzzles together that he had been yanking or running his fingers through his hair repeatedly for the  past few hours.

His clothes were soaking wet from the rain that was pouring down and as we stood there, staring at each other in the eye with silence the only thing being passed between us, all I could focus on was the sick and painful feeling of how Newt was hurting really badly inside and at the moment, it killed me to see him being this sad and depressed. I could hear the remains of his sobs breaking the silences that reverberated in the air and with each passing second, both my mind and heart were being plunged into complete darkness. No words were popping up in my mind like they usually would and all of sudden, nothing mattered anymore, and everything around me turned into a muffled sound.  The only thing that my mind and heart could focus on was Newt who was in front of me, the love of my life.

“ Newt?”  I could hear the uncertainty and shock in my voice clearly as I broke the silence that was between us, and without any hesitation, Newt pushed forward and wrapped his arms around me. His arms were tightly wrapped around my neck as he embraced me into a close hug, and no words could describe the immediate tidal waves of feelings that came crashing down on me when I heard Newt’s cries beginning to sound. I could hear his heart pounding against his chest like a sledgehammer as we stood there, embracing other other, and it was as if suddenly I was underwater with the pain that immediately began to feel. With his body wrapped against me, I could feel him quivering like a shaking leaf in my arms and as his loud crying continued to sound despite the loud pitter patter of the rain, my heart was swiftly falling into the pit of my stomach like a crashing meteor.  

I exhaled the breath that I was holding and closed my eyes, swaying Newt from left to right as I tried to give him some comfort despite the emotions that were flowing through me like warm honey. But someone had to be strong between us both, and at the moment, I was the only one capable of that so I held him in my arms right there and then, despite the fact that I was the smaller and shorter one.

I could hear Newt’s sobbing starting to water down as he cleared his throat. I waited for the words that should have come out of his mouth, but nothing sounded. The only thing that my ears were picking up on apart from the loud noise that was sounding in the background was Newt’s heart that was beating fast and hard. And the quickening beats of my pulse that could be felt at the edge of my wrists.

“ She broke up with me (Y/N), she hates me now.” His voice was barely a whisper, so soft that I very nearly didn’t hear it, but I did. There were so many feelings that were invading me as I stood there, but I could feel anger being the one that was dominating the rest. Anger towards Newt’s ex for hurting his feelings. Anger towards her for breaking his heart and trampling it over and over with her feet. And last but not least, the urge to kill her for being so stupid to actually break up with him when so many people wanted to be with him. Newt was someone who would cross an ocean for you even if you wouldn’t cross a puddle for him, that was how truly amazing he was.

His heart that could have been made out of pure gold was something that was hard to not recognize, and with breath taking beauty that was etched all over his face, he could have been an angel that had fallen from the heavens. He was my best friend, who was always there when I needed him in times of need, and he was like my   brother when all I could think of was giving up. Newt had always been with me be it the tough or happy times but the only thing that remained between us was the fact that we were best friends even though my heart longed for more.

But despite the years of developing emotions for him, I never got the chance to be with him cause no matter when the timing is, my chance would never arrive. And to see girls taking his heart then throwing it on the floor and stamping it with all of the force they had, it only made me want to go up and scream at them as to how stupid they were to hurt the feelings of someone so amazing.

Newt slowly pulled away from my embrace and when my eyes met his, I felt myself crumpling even more when the only thing I saw in his eyes were a sea of devastation and self hatred. He tried to hold back his sobs that threatened to escape from his mouth and fake the sadness he felt with a smile, but I knew better that everything was a lie. Deep down, he was hurting inside and I wanted to do nothing more than hold him in his arms and remind him the amazing things he is.

“ (Y/N) what’s wrong with me? What did I do wrong? What’s so horrible about me that made her hate me like this now? What is it, (Y/n), what is it?” Newt’s voice was cracking as he said out the words, desperation and anger clear in his voice. However, heartbreak and sorrow was the one that could be read easily within his words and at the moment, I hadn’t know what to say.  My mind was a jumbled up mess of tangled thoughts and I was in disbelief at the mention of his words. When Newt didn’t hear any replies that came out of me, he bowed his head down and a cloud of darkness seem to immediately float above him.

I placed my hand softly below Newt’s chin and lifted his head up so his eyes were meeting mine. I took in a shuddering breath and cupped Newt’s face in my hands, stroking away his tears with my thumbs as I bit my lip down hard. Newt regarded me closely with wide eyes, and I smiled through the pain that was written on my face as I looked right back at him. I could feel tears starting to brim my eyes as I slowly made out the words I wanted to say.

“ You did nothing wrong Newt, neither is there anything wrong with you,” I started, my voice hushed and soft. “ Sometimes, people are just too blinded by the things they want in life and greed for to actually appreciate the precious they have in their arms. And it isn’t any different with you. Newt, never ever ever say that something’s wrong with you or that there’s something horrible that you have. You’re one of the most sweetest, and kindest people I have ever met and you care for everyone around you like they’re family to them. You’re such an amazing person and you don’t even have to try to be like one because you’re already like that.

You’re the dream guy that every girls wants despite the flaws you have but nobody’s perfect in life since everyone’s human. Sure, we do make mistakes at times but most of the time, we learn from them and it only changes us to be a better person.” I smiled a small smile at him as I wiped away the tear that was rolling down my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt, the emotions over flowing out of me. “ And because of that, I think that Harriet ( Yes harriet, I didn’t know who else to write about), is stupid to break up with someone as amazing as you and that you shouldn’t regret leaving her after everything she’s done since you deserve so much more better than her.”

Both Newt and I were crying at the end of my mini speech and he smiled one of his familiar smiles at m once he had stopped crying. We both hastily wiped away the tears that were stained on our cheeks and without any hesitation, Newt embraced me into his arms, hugging me tightly.

“ Thank you, (Y/n), for everything and helping me.” I heard Newt say in a soft tone and I smiled to myself, feeling my a comforting feel blossoming in my chest. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on Newt’s shoulder.

“ And thank you too, for just being with me despite everything.” But deep down, I knew that my heart was saying something else too. And it was the three familiar words that everyone knew.

Firsts

Okay, here we go! First prompt of the Bakudeku week is completed! I chose to do the firsts prompt, and I just made a compilation which has first hug, first hand holding, first kiss, first date, and first I love you. 

I had a bunch of fun making this, and I’m incredibly excited for the AU prompt. Let’s just say I’ve had an AU in mind for quite a while…. Anyways, on to the story!!

Keep reading

IMAGINE POKEMON COUPLES IN CUTE WEDDING PHOTOS.

May smiling and shyly hiding half her face in a bouquet of red roses while Drew stares at her lovingly.

Iris and Cilan standing next to each other and coyly smiling up/down at each other to contrast the large height difference.

Misty and Ash wearing bright blue high-top converse with their formal wear, to match Misty’s eyes.