burden falls

have you ever noticed how in the Lord of the Rings films...

Throughout the Fellowship of the Ring, Boromir wears unique leather bracers (forearm-guards) adorned with the symbol of the White Tower and the Seven Stars…

After Boromir’s death, Aragorn takes up his bracers. He takes them as a reminder that Boromir’s kingdom is now his kingdom, that Boromir’s burden now falls on his shoulders….or just as something to remember his friend by…

 Aragorn wears them throughout the Two Towers…

And Return of the King….

And when we’re shown a “flash-forward” to Aragorn’s death, many long decades after The War of the Ring, he isn’t laid to rest in a king’s priceless silver armor. Instead, we find out…

...Aragorn keeps Boromir’s bracers all his life, and is buried in them

…I hate myself. I feel like an idiot saying it because, blah, blah, teen angst, boo hoo, but I do. I hate myself. Almost all the time. I try not to tell anyone because I don’t want to burden them, but I feel like I’m falling farther and farther away from them. Like the well’s getting deeper and I’m running out of energy to climb it and any minute now, any second, it’s going to stop being worth even trying.
—  The Rest of Us Just Live Here
not the lost princess

because somebody said “write it” when i said this.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the first man who informed her, shocked, how she had the green eyes of the royal family and hair as dark as the late queen’s. She had been joking, of course, pretending to take him seriously as she counted out his change. No one had accused her of being the princess in the first place. Princess Aliara, the last of the royal line of Adamar, had drowned in the Silver Sea ten summers ago. Everyone knew that.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the old woman, the princess’s childhood nurse, who clutched her hands to her chest the moment she fell off her horse in the castle courtyard. She didn’t want any more confusion than there already was.

There were silver streaks in the woman’s hair and tears in her eyes. “It’s you,” she repeated, as if she hadn’t heard.

“No,” Liza explained, already impatient. “It’s not me. I’m not her.” It was what she had told the royal minister who had been fetched by the man in the shop last week at least seven times by now, but he’d insisted that the other royal ministers had to see her, had to see if she was real, and wouldn’t leave the shop.

“I’m real,” she’d said. “Really annoyed.”

The man’s eyes had filled with tears. That seemed to be happening a lot around her recently. “You sounds just like you did when you were little.”

Liza threw up her hands and told anyone who would listen that this man hadn’t known her when she was a little girl growing up in a costal town far away, but finding out she had lived in some proximity to the Silver Sea only sent everyone into more of a frenzy. In the end she agreed to come, if only because the royal minster would take care of the cost, and the capital city had a real library to visit.

“I’m not the princess, though,” she reminded all the minister’s servants when they bobbed curtsies to her. “Just to be clear.”


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told Kara, the girl who had claimed the right to interrogate her first. She was the lost princess’s best friend, or something, and she’d said she was the only one who could possibly tell if this so-called princess was an impostor.

Kara scoffed, hands on her hips and her eyes mistrustful. “Of course you’re not, kid. No one who claims to be Liara is. She’s dead.” But her voice sounded a little more uncertain with each word as she looked Liza over. “So what’s your excuse? What’s your made up story for how you’ve suddenly regained your lost memory and remembered you’re a princess, or whatever?”

Liza glanced around at all the court watching her, still bewildered as to how she was being interrogated as a possible impostor when she’d never claimed to be anyone in the first place, and finally repeated what she’d been saying all day. “My name is Liza. I’m a baker. My parents were bakers before they died. They were not the king and queen. I am not the princess. Can I go to the library now?”

The room filled with deliberating murmurs rather than answers, and Liza leaned back in her seat with a groan.


“I’ll give you credit,” Kara said, sounding as if she’d rather do anything else, “you really do look like her.”

“I’m not her,” Liza said, as if repeating it for the hundredth time would make Kara finally believe she wasn’t trying to pretend she was. As if saying it a thousand more times would make half the royal ministers stop thinking she really was.

She wasn’t allowed to go home, not until they’d come to a consensus on her princess-related status. “I’m a prisoner,” she yelled at Alder, the most annoying of the ministers.

“You’re home,” he’d responded fondly, and she’d screamed in a very un-princesslike manner and gone to find Kara, who at least wouldn’t keep asking her if she remember so-and-so-’s name, or how she had tripped on that step and sprained her ankle when she was six.

“When I was six I was frolicking happily on a beach somewhere on the southern coast,” she told Kara crankily. “Not cooped up in this castle.”

Kara laughed derisively. “Oh, honey. Liara’s ship sank near the eastern coast. You don’t even have your story straight.”

But despite Kara’s firm belief that Liza was a liar and a pretender, Liza sensed that her laughter was becoming warmer, and she directed more snide comments at the ministers than she did at Liza. Perhaps, Liza even dared to think, Kara was starting to like her.

Kara noticed that she was being stared at, and half-smiled back. “Don’t be offended. You’re almost as bad of a liar as she was, too. That’s actually a point in your favor.”

Liza rolled her eyes and tugged at Kara’s sleeve to pull her closer. “Show me the way to the library again. I get lost in the halls every time I try to go without you.”

“They say true royalty isn’t capable of being lost in the royal palace.”

“Tell that to the ministers.”


“I’m not the princess,” she said automatically, before she’d processed the boy standing in front of her. He was supposed to be the princess’s illegitimately-born cousin, or something. One way or another, he was one of those next in line for the throne if the princess did not magically turn up sometime soon (which she wouldn’t, because she was dead).

“He’d do a rotten job,” Kara had said, curling her lip, when they’d seen him march through the front hall from their little alcove in the balcony. “He can’t be king.”

“Why do you care?” Liza asked, trying to sneak a peak at Kara’s cards.

She pulled her cards away and whacked Liza’s arm lightly with them. “I’m engaged to the throne, silly. The real princess would know that.” But that last sentence was an afterthought. She’d almost entirely stopped accusing Liza of pretending, recently. “And I won’t marry Henry. He makes fun of anyone once their back is turned, and he spreads rumors about whatever he likes, and once he kicked Liara’s puppy because it was in his way.”

“That sounds like an exaggeration.”

Kara shook her head, looking almost grim. This clearly wasn’t one of her jokes. “No. Liara was so angry she threw her shoe at him. Hit him in the head, hard. He was bleeding. It was a big scandal that she would hurt her own cousin, everyone rushed to cover it up with a story about how he fell and hit his head.”

“I take it they didn’t get along?” Now she was worried. If Henry wanted to be king, what would he do to Liara? What would he do to her, if he believed she was the princess? “Is he dangerous?”

“Don’t worry, Liza. I’ll protect you.” She was kidding, her brown eyes soft, but Liza felt a little safer anyway.


“I know you’re not,” Henry sneered, and walked past her.

Kara gripped her hand, which was all that kept Liza from running after him to yell about just how many people were pretty sure she was, and how he was a rude, terrible person who would never marry Kara because she wouldn’t allow it, and how someone who kicked puppies was not fit to look at the throne, let alone sit in it, and how, also, he smelled.

He didn’t, but it would have been nice to tell him that. She almost didn’t let Kara pull her away.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza said when Alder asked yet again for another retelling of how she’d come to be a baker in a small town far from the castle. She was too tired to go through it again, too frustrated with all these dithering people too scared of having to work out the convoluted succession of a throne that had no obvious heir to accept that their princess wasn’t there to solve the problem.

She was not, however, too tired to notice Henry’s small victorious smile as he sat in the back of the room and listened. Everyone knew that the one year in which the royal throne could remain empty in the wake of the king and queen’s deaths was drawing to a close. An heir would have to be announced soon.

If it wasn’t Aliara— wasn’t Liza— it was almost certainly Henry.

After the horrible, boring meeting was over, she found Kara in the library and bunched up next to her in the window seat too small for two people. “Tell me about the princess,” she said, and Kara complied, because they were both coming to wish, like the ministers, that she was there.


One year after the queen of Adamar had passed away with her daughter’s name on her lips, the royal ministers met in the throne room. Liza had denied being the princess to the very last. There was nothing else for it but to declare the heir to the kingdom.

Henry hadn’t stopped smirking since he’d received the message asking him to attend that morning. Kara watched him with a blank face but a sick stomach, thinking how she would never sit on a throne next to his— thinking about running away, grabbing Liza’s hand and running with her back to the beach far from where the princess had died.

It wasn’t fantasy. It was a concrete plan. She had the horses waiting. She felt herself calming as Alder called everyone to attention, knowing that even if they could do nothing for Adamar once Henry was king, at least they could do this.

And then Aliara walked into the room.

No, she glided into the room. She swept in so like a ghost that half the company spooked or flinched, but she was very, very real. She had the green eyes of the royal lineage. She had dark hair braided over her shoulder the exact way the queen used to wear it. She had a smile that was almost, almost smug.

“Please,” Liza said, sweeping a curtsey and lifting her eyes to the sunlight falling through the high glass windows as if she could look any more perfectly innocent. “I must beg your forgiveness. I have been a coward to insist for so long that I could not remember my childhood here, when I have never forgotten my true self. I thought I could bear the shame of never coming forward. I even convinced myself it would be better for Adamar to have my dear cousin as king.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “I’m sorry, Henry, for pretending not to know you, and almost letting this burden fall on your shoulders. But I have seen the light in time. I am here, Alder. I am the princess.”

Henry went pale with fury, meeting her halfway across the wide floor of the throne room and catching her arm so she could not approach the throne.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled. “We both know you’re a liar. Everyone else will soon realize to. Don’t bother trying to pull it off.”

She yanked her arm back so hard that he was almost unbalanced and fixed him with a glare that had no princess in it and all of the fire she used to pump in her huge ovens at the bakery. “Don’t cross me, cousin. Or do you need me to throw another shoe at your head?”

He faltered just long enough for her to walk past, head held high, and up to the dais. “Come here with the crown, Alder. Careful on the steps. I tripped on them when I was six, you know.”

“Y-yes, princess,” Alder said, hastily coming forward.

She raised an eyebrow, indicating with one hand that there was no one else on the dais with her. “I’m not the princess. I’m the queen.”


“I’m sorry,” she told Kara, late that night. It had been a very long day, and her head ached from the weight of the crown, and she only wanted to go to sleep, and she didn’t know if Kara was angry, and didn’t want her to be.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Kara said, stepping closer, reaching out for her hands.


“For my false accusations over the past year, of course,” she said with a straight face. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you from the beginning.”

“The princess,” the new queen said, unable to figure out full sentences as Kara pulled them closer together, gently pushing strands of her hair back.

“My princess.”

“Yes,” the baker-princess-queen sighed. “That.”


Originally posted by daehyunny

Waking up in the middle of the night to find your bed empty was not a new occurrence for you. There were many nights where you went to bed, Yongguk by your side, only to find him missing a few hours later. This was a sort of compromise for the two of you. So long as he was by your side when you went to bed and you woke up to his presence in the mornings, he was free to do as he pleased whenever he couldn’t sleep. You knew that when you moved in together he’d spend more time in the spare room he’d converted into a makeshift studio than he would in your bedroom and you promised him that you would be alright with that.

So long as he promised that he would take better care of himself and of his health.

But Yongguk, as much as he was a man of his word, had a bad habit of overworking himself. He was his own worst critic, his harshest judge, and he couldn’t sleep until every little thing was perfect. The group had been doing fine before the lawsuit, they’d been gaining popularity steadily and had a rapidly growing fan base. They’d even won their first number one.

Keep reading


The Republican Tax Sham

Watch your wallets. Republicans are pushing a new corporate tax plan that will end up costing most of you a bundle. Here’s what you should know about the so-called “border adjustment tax." 

The U.S. imports about $2.7 trillion worth of goods a year. Many imports are cheap because labor costs are much lower in places like Southeast Asia.

Our current tax code taxes corporations on their profits. So, for example, when Wal-Mart buys t-shirts from Vietnam for $10 and sells them for $13, Wal-Mart is only taxed on that $3 of profit.

But under the new Republican tax plan, Wal-Mart would be taxed on the full price of imported items, so in this case the full $13 sale price of that t-shirt. As a result of this tax, Wall Street analysts expect retail prices in the U.S. to rise as much as 15 percent.

The plan would also cut taxes on companies that export from the United States. This is intended to encourage companies to locate production here in the United States. 

But it wouldn’t reverse the tide of automation that’s rapidly eliminating jobs even  from American factories.

The worst thing about it the plan is it’s a hidden upward redistribution.  

Its burden will fall mainly on the poor and middle class because they already spend almost all of their incomes, so they’ll feel the greatest pain from higher retail prices.

The benefits will go to companies that export and their shareholders, who will benefit from the tax cuts in the form of higher profits – and higher share prices.  Shareholders, who are mostly upper-income people, don’t need this windfall.

Republicans claim that the U.S. dollar would rise in response to higher taxes on imports, effectively wiping out the tax burden. But as a practical matter, no one knows if this will happen.

Bottom line: The tax plan is dressed up as a way to make America more competitive. But underneath it’s just a typical Republican plan that redistributes from the poor and middle class to corporations and the wealthy.

anonymous asked:

Jean, Marco and Levi headcanons when they meet thir s/o for the first time, please?

Sure thing, anon! :) Hope you enjoy~


  • Is the one out of the three to become completely infatuated, even if he doesn’t exchange a single word with them and only sees them walking past.
  • He’s going to want to try and impress them as much as he possibly can.
  • He’ll try to look ‘badass’ but he probably ends up falling flat on his face a lot.
  • He thinks he’s completely embarrassing himself and ruining his chances but his future s/o probably thinks he’s the cutest thing ever so I mean, it’s okay.
  • He’d totally challenge them to spar because he thinks he’s going to be able to beat them and look like a total awesome badass but he lets his ego get the better of him and is creamed.
  • This only makes him like his future s/o more though because they kicked his ass with no apologies.
  • Eventually he’s going to confess, after completely failing at it several times to the point where his s/o has to finish his sentence for him. “Are you trying to tell me you like me, Jean?”


  • Instantly realizes how much he likes his future s/o when he overhears them doing some extremely kind, such as standing up for a fellow cadet or peer who is being picked on.
  • From then on makes it his goal to kind of ‘bump into’ them, even if he’s too shy to directly tell them how much he likes them.
  • Hangs out with them completely platonically and totally loves it because as long as they are happy, he is happy.
  • Often finds himself doing little things for them here and there to make them smile, such as bring them their lunch or dinner, run laps with them, bring them their favorite flower, etc.
  • He really honest-to-God thinks they are the most beautiful thing to walk the Earth, literally no one can hold a single candle to them, doesn’t matter if the person standing next to them is a model–they are gorgeous.
  • Would probably confess his feelings during a moment when he thinks they aren’t listening–maybe they’ve fallen asleep reading their book and he’ll whisper it softly.
  • Surprise, Marco–they heard and that smile on their face is not so random.


  • While Levi can appreciate someone for how they look (he ain’t blind), he is more so the type of person who is going to ultimately decide his attraction based on another’s personality.
  • That being said, he is not the type to ever make his feelings (as small or insignificant as they start) known. He is not going to approach anyone.
  • He isn’t going to treat them any differently, either. At least not by much. Maybe he will entertain a few lingering glances during training, or exchanging some witty banter, but that’s it.
  • Levi is not your a-typical significant other and actually starting the relationship with him will be the hardest part. The burden is going to fall mostly on the other person pursuing him.
  • Levi has seen a lot of death in his life and lost many he’s cared for, so actually willingly setting himself up for potential heartbreak again when that person could die at any moment is not something he’s too keen on, to be honest.
  • Hell, Levi would live the rest of his life completely content to let his potential s/o find happiness elsewhere because he does not understand what there is to want or like about him. He has shitty self-esteem when it comes to that. 
  • Basically, it’s going to take some convincing and the ball will be entirely in the other person’s court. But once the decision has been made, Levi is a very loyal, respectful, and thoughtful s/o, even if it might take some real reading into his actions to see it.

you are the only one a geralt/yennefer fanmix

i. draw your swords - angus & julia stone / ii. shiver - lucy rose / iii. the first taste - fiona apple / iv. nothing like you and i - the perishers / v. sleep tonight - stars / vi. fire and the flood - vance joy / vii. ain’t gonna lose you - brett dennen / viii. lover’s spit - broken social scene

anonymous asked:

You don't need to respond I just needed to say a thing. I find it a little childish for so many people to assume that dan will/should come out. As far as I've read into it I feel like he's "come out" as much as he ever will. He's talked about attraction to all genders. I feel that he's made it clear that his sexuality is what it is and he's going to be attracts to someone no matter the gender. People think he needs to make a video about being bi/pan but really he's made clear that he's existing.

the question i receive more than any other on this blog is some variation of “when/how do you think dnp will come out/tell us about their sexualities or their relationship?” and i’ve never answered it. for a number of reasons, but primarily because so many people in this space operate under such a specific definition of what coming out means and what it should entail. i’m wary, always, of subscribing to a uniform standard for what queerness looks like and how it needs to present itself in order to be taken seriously or treated as valid, and i think the discourse and speculation and constant obsession about dnp’s potential future coming out process does exactly that. in my view the culture around coming out as it exists right now is a relic of cultural norms in which queerness was differentiated and encoded into law and language and social thought as explicitly and intrinsically Other. the socialized obligation to not only categorize and label one’s sexual/romantic preferences but then to announce them to the world at large is only cast on queer people specifically because, unless announced otherwise, society’s working assumption of a person is that they are cis/straight. queer people need to tell the world they are queer precisely because it is different, because it is a deviation from a socially enforced “norm,” and the term “coming out” itself denotes that someone was once hiding themselves and now they aren’t.

for some people (many people) labeling and coming out make a lot of sense. we’re not in a post-heteronormative world. the stark reality is that people DO operate with ingrained cis- and heteronormative frames of thought and it can be tiring to deal with people always making assumptions of your preferences that don’t fit who you are and what you like. labeling your preferences and making sure people know them is a way to avoid those mistaken assumptions. it’s also a way to find other people like you, to ally yourself with a community that is still so marginalized and oppressed in myriad ways, and join in the movement and the fight and take pride in an aspect of yourself that many people would try to deride or malign. but an alternate school of thought is that the gender you prefer having sex with or that you fall in love with is no more a part of your identity that merits announcement and discussion than, say, your preference for masturbating three times a week or your preference for only having sex in the missionary position or any other personal detail about what you do w your genitals in the privacy of your bedroom. it doesn’t have to have a bearing on identity in the most nuclear and concentrated sense of the word, it doesn’t HAVE to be labeled and addressed in a way that automatically reduces and categorizes it and neatly packages it as an object for the public to talk about and weigh in on. the notion of labeling your sexuality and then “coming out” is a construct in the most literal sense, and for some people, who perhaps don’t feel the need to correct everyone’s heteronormative assumptions of them, or who don’t feel the need to find other people with non-hetero preferences, or who think the reality of the life they live since they blatantly/openly share it w someone of their same gender is already pretty suggestive of their preferences, coming out widely and publicly isn’t a priority or a necessity (and in some cases can obviously also be a discomforting, stressful, scary, or even dangerous prospect!!!) for literally thousands of possible reasons.

we can guess that dnp align themselves more closely to this latter outlook. in both of the recent times that dan has discussed sexuality explicitly he talks about not wanting to label it for a public audience. in his diss track he directly addresses his own comments about attraction to more than one gender (j law –> evan p), and then says that it’s hard to put him in a box because he keeps “it” (his sexuality) so blurry. he’s bluntly saying that he doesn’t want to be categorized. in an interview with the sunday times in late 2015 promoting tabinof, the interviewer directly asks dan if he’s gay. dan references tom hardy’s answer to the same question and says that he and phil do not believe that their sexual preferences are something the public has any business knowing–he then delineates the purpose of their role as public figures. they are entertainers and what they seek to offer their public audience is the content they make. that’s it. looking to tom hardy’s actual quote sheds even more light: “I’m under no obligation to share anything to do with my family, my children, my sexuality — that’s nobody’s business but my own…It’s important destigmatizing sexuality and gender inequality in the workplace, but to put a man on the spot in a room full of people designed purely for a salacious reaction? To be quite frank, it’s rude. If [someone] had said that to me in the street, I’d have said the same thing back: ‘I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?’”

as far back as 2009, both dnp were talking about attraction to men and following it with the refrain that they don’t like labels. and that is VALID. it’s transgressive, even, to take a look at all the heteronormativity out there, all of the assumptions that people make about sex and gender and everything else, all of the demand that straights place on queer people to announce their otherness as loudly as possible and categorize themselves as being different, and then to say no, reject all of that pressure, and turn your back on it. refuse to comply with everyone’s expectations and just be happy in liking what you like and loving who you love. just existing, as anon put it so beautifully.

but if a queer person chooses this outlook, chooses to shirk labels and a formal/public statement of their preferences, the default assumption SHOULD NOT be straight. heterosexuality shouldn’t be an assumed sexuality for anyone, regardless of the statements they may or may not have made, but it especially should not be the assumption for two men who did publicly label at one point as bisexual, and who have repeatedly voiced attraction to men. in an attempt to move towards a society that doesn’t make assumptions at all, a world in which coming out is completely obsolete and unnecessary and people stopped giving so much of a fuck about the genders people have sex with, it’s on all of us to change the way that we think about sexuality and unlearn our own biased thought. the burden shouldn’t fall on dnp to correct our thought or go out of their way to tell us that they fuck or that they’re in love–doesn’t that cheapen everything that they are? doesn’t that demand something of them that they’ve said over and over they do not want to give? and haven’t they done enough to tell us about how they experience attraction? it’s on all of us to take those comments seriously and to validate and acknowledge their experiences as they relay them to us, and to contextualize them in the complex textures and nuances of who they are as people.

who they are and what they’ve already chosen to share with us is pretty damn radical in itself: they’re two boys who have shared and built a life together for nearly eight years and who rely on each other on so many levels. they’re two boys who speak of the love and respect they have for each other in numerous ways, perhaps without stating those words specifically, but making it clear through actions and stories of their time together instead. they’re two boys who don’t know how to be without each other, who don’t merely coexist and work together but who have consciously interwoven their lives to the point that all of their experiences are shaped with and through each other. the argument can be made that they’re “out” in the sense of not hiding who they are from us, in the sense that both of them, and dan especially, have taken conscious measures to talk about how much they like boys. the argument can equally be made that they still hide to some degree–they won’t hold hands or hug, they’ll separate beds if they’re showing us the inside of their hotel room, they’ll not say the words i love you in front of us. but to me none of that even incrementally eclipses the glowing reality and warmth of the life they share–it’s as much info as i think they will ever feel okay giving us and it’s more than enough, for me at least, to look to them as models of deepest mutual love and respect (yes between two men!!) and of the comfort that can arise when you find someone to just exist with, outside world and their asks of you be damned

anonymous asked:

Okay. Just. Okay. I’ve been sitting on this idea for days, and I need to talk to someone about it, and you’re the only one who cares enough about these particular characters to be even remotely interested, so that burden falls to you. My condolences. So you know how everybody’s always kind of suspected that Max has shit parents, creating the Dadvid AU. And you know how we kind of got that confirmed during the finale. But you remember who else we discovered has a bad home life? HARRISON.

This is so good I don’t have anything to add. Just … appreciate this. Make it a comic. Make it a fanfic. Do something amazing with it.

The Evenstar

The lord of the rings AU

Arwen and Aragorn

Jon Targaryen’s mind was troubled as he wandered among the beautiful gardens of Rivendell. The sky was already dark and the moon casted a blue glow all around him; the sweet smell of climbing roses filled his nostrils and made him long for this he couldn’t quite explain.

Only months prior that night, Lord Eddard had revealed his true parentage and had changed his life forever; Jon had believed all his life to be a bastard, fostered on the lands of Lord Stark by the grace of his heart and now at his twenty one years old he had to face the troublesome reality of him being the last Targaryen, the descendent of the last Dragon King and the one who was supposed to direct the armies in the battle against the dark lord.

A huge responsibility now was on his shoulders and there were days when he felt it was going to end up crushing him; somehow walking among the sweet peas, lilies and climbing roses that graced Rivendell gardens he felt some of that burden easing away and when his eyes landed on the vision standing on the bridge a sense of peace like he never felt before invaded him.

Her hair was the color of fire and it fell long and wavy around her slender pale shoulders, her eyes were of the most beautiful shade of blue he had ever seen, her cheeks were rosy and a beautiful green silk dress adorned her body.

She was breathtaking and for a minute Jon believed himself to be dreaming.

“Tinuviel, Tinuviel” He yelled, for he believed to be staring into the maiden of the songs he had heard so much while growing up.

The young girl turned around and smiled at him “Who are you and why are you calling me by that name?”

Jon’s feet moved towards the glass bridge where she was standing, his eyes couldn’t look away from her “Because I believed you were her and if you’re not, let me tell you my lady you are a dream”

“I believe no such things” She answered sweetly “And who are you my lord?”

“I am Jon Snow my lady”

Recognition flashed in her eyes “Don’t mean Jon Targaryen?”

Jon’s steps faltered but only for a second before he resumed his walk towards her “That I am, my lady. Thought I do not wish the burden that falls on my shoulders”

She smiled sadly at him “Quite understandable my lord” Her eyes tinkled with delight as she saw him approaching, he was so close that she could smell the earthly scent of his body “I am Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark”

Jon nearly gasped as her words left her mouth “Forgive me my lady; I know that in times of war men tend to hide their most precious treasures. But lord Eddard and your brother amaze me because even though I’ve lived here since I was a boy, I had never heard of you” He was standing in front of her now, his gray eyes drinking in every trace of her “How is it possible that we’ve never met before?”

She smiled fondly at him before raising her eyes towards the mountains that rose east from them “I’ve lived for many years with my mother’s family in Lothlorien and I’ve just arrived recently to visit my father”

Jon looked at her with amazement for the girl looked not a day older than him, she giggled at his expression and told him in a soft voice “Do not be shocked, the children of Eddard share the life of the Eldar”

The young boy’s heart filled with a great grief as he contemplated her and saw the elfin light in her, he saw in her eyes uncountable wisdom and power and knew that the young maiden would never be his to keep.

“Do not be so gloom my young friend” Lady Sansa said with a smile as she offered her arm to him “Why don’t we take a walk?” Without waiting for her to change her mind Jon took on her offer and they headed in direction of the silver lake which he learned was her favorite part of the place.

* * *  *

On that first day Jon fell madly in love with Sansa Stark.

They spent the next couple of weeks together; they would walk in the gardens and swim on the lake, they would laugh and sing and at nights she would lay on the grass with his head on her lap and would comb her fingers through his soft curls as he spoke about his doubts and fears about not being able to fulfil the hopes that were placed on him.

As the days passed Jon’s love for Sansa grew but also his sadness for with each day he would realize how different they were from the other and how impossible would be for him to make her his. He had been living in a dream and nothing scared him more than to wake up.

Four moons after he first saw her, Lord Eddard summoned him into his solar to let him know he had realized about his feelings for his precious daughter. Jon had looked down ashamed for a brief second before telling himself there was nothing to be afraid of. His love for the fair princess was the most pure thing he had ever felt and he was proud of it.

“I do not wish to see you hurt Jon” Lord Eddard had said, eyes sad as he regarded the young boy in front of him “Sansa is not for you my boy, she is far too precious to tie herself to a mortal” Jon had felt anger surge in him but one look into the loving eyes of the man who had raised him let him know he wasn’t speaking in order to hurt him “She is immortal and you’re not, this has only been a dream Jon, you can never be nothing more”

The young boy felt his eyes filling with tears as he understood how true the words the Lord elf spoke “Then bitter shall my days be and I will wander the savages lands completely alone, for I cannot stay here another day”

The next morning Jon was to depart into the misty mountains; he was to learn from great characters like Gandalf the Grey and Legolas Greenleaf, he was to strengthen himself physically and mentally for the task that waited for him.

But before leaving he found himself standing in front of her in the same glass bridge where had met her so many days ago “I must leave now my lady, but you shall always be on my heart” He had whispered before leaning down to kiss her lips softly.

Tears had streamed down her face as their mouths found each other; her hands had tangled in his dark curls as she let him know how much she loved him through that kiss.

“I will wait for you, Jon of House Targaryen” She had whispered as she placed her precious necklace around him, the Evenstar now shone on his neck “I will wait my love”

Jon had felt his heart filling with love as the meaning of her words dawned on her; he kissed her once more before parting and as he left he vowed to one day return to make her truly his.

Ten years would pass before Jon found himself facing the elf princess again.

“Cassie, you must promise me. No matter what we find there, you are not to cry. […] You and I, we wear the accoutrements. We enjoy the sisterhood. But we are not the Princess of Themyscira. We’re allowed to be vulnerable. We’re allowed to be who we are at all times. If Diana… If she passes– Her burden falls to us. Do you understand? We show her respect in her fashion.”
- Donna Troy, Wonder Woman (2006) #27

@spaghettisaurus-rex : (… I think. The ask disappeared when I replied but I think I remembered the username right – it’s too cool to forget) Wonder girls on their day off… sort of.

I can help (Damian Wayne imagine)

Requested: Yes
Request:Damian Wayne has gotten feelings for an employee at WE, turns out the employee is in a relationship with someone that abuses them and covers themselves in make up to hide it. Employee is like “no we shouldn’t I have a s/o and you’re my boss”
Summary: Boss Damian has fallen for an employee but find out they’re being abused.  
Word count: 619
Warning(s): Domestic abuse.

You had caught Damian’s attention long ago, your lovely personality when ever you would bring him paperwork. The way you would apologize when you noticed that he had a whole stack on his table already.

Sometimes you even brought him coffee in the morning or late in the evening. It was late in the evening and you were delivering the last batch of documents for Damian to sign, it had been a long day and you decided that he probably needed a cup of coffee, so you got one on the way to his office. “Hello, mr. Wayne, last paper work for today, and a coffee to make it easier,” You say, a bright smile on your face  “For the last time, call me Damian,please, “ He smiles back, taking the paperwork and paper cup. 

I was actually meaning to ask you,” Damian says, standing up from his desk, “would you like to attend the gala with me next week ?” He asks, giving her his brightest smile, that women usually swoon for. You drop your head shyly, you would have loved to go with him, but you knew that your partner at home wouldn’t like that the least bit. “I’m sorry, Damian, but I can’t, I would really love to go with you, but I honestly can’t,” You regretfully say, turning around,  getting ready to leave. That’s when he saw them.

The bruises covering the back of your neck. Your collar had slid down just that small bit that revealed the none makeup covered dark purple bruises underneath your shirt. Damian wanted to ignore it, but he just couldn’t. “Does he beat you,” He asks, grabbing your arm and turning you around softly, you wince at his actions nonetheless, causing him to quickly let go.

Show me,” He says bluntly, pointing at your arm. “Please don’t tell anyone, I don’t need any more trouble then I’m already in,” You plead, undoing the buttons of your sleeve, revealing the badly bruised skin. It’s a mix of older, already healing injuries, and never, at most a few days old bruising. You drop your head in shame of your weakness, at your inability to leave your partner behind in the hopes that they will change one day.

Look, If you want me to, I can help you, but only if you want my help,” Damian says with a sad sigh, causing you to look up at him to gauge his honesty. His jade green eyes were filled with sadness, not particularly for you, but for the fact that he never noticed the obvious signs. Your overly apologetic attitude, the fear of not doing things perfectly, the way you always wore clothes that covered everything, it had always been obvious.

How can you help me?” You timidly ask, unsure of how he would be of any assistance. “If you break up with them, and give a police report, I can have them put away for a very long time,”  He says. “When he gets out he’ll find me,” You say, eyes wide at his proposal.

He won’t be getting out, and I can protect you, just please, let me help you,” Damian pleads, after a moment of consideration you finally nod ‘yes’.

What can I do for you in return?” You ask, not wanting to be a charity case. “Come to the gala with me next week,” He smiles, siting back down at his desk and starting to type away on his computer. “Okay,” You smile, for the first time in years feeling free, a huge burden falling off of your shoulders.

 In the next week before the gala, your abuser was apprehended and put in jail to await their court date. 


With love,

Sugar Smoke (M)

Getting yourself a sugar daddy was not in your plan. Having Jeon JungKook as your sugar daddy, was the last thing possible on your list. And no matter how much you try to lie to yourself, you already feel addicted to him, to your dirty little secret.

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Pairing: Jeon JungKook x Reader x Chanyeol | ft. Lisa, Jisoo 

Word count: 4033

Notes: I will update this every Sunday. Extra notes at the end. enjoy :)

The constant beeping sound that’s coming from the cash registers is drilling your head, mincing your mind into a thousand of tiny spikes of pain, spreading through the entirety of your body. 

Your gaze follows the flickering lights from above your head and you squeeze your eyes shut to block everything out. After a while, you look down, at the shining counter that you’ve just cleaned. Distorted, the reflection of your face stares back at you from its confines. It doesn’t exactly seem like you as if someone else is trapped in there instead of you. The thin hairs on your body raise as a chill runs through you and right in this moment, you can clearly smell his cologne. It’s all over you and you love and despise it at the same time.

You don’t have to see to know it’s him, and even though you expect his incoming words, you still jump in surprise on your chair.

“Y/N, hi!”

Keep reading

For the lovely anon (and wife) who requested something a little while back. I hope this is something like what you had in mind. Sorry it took me a little bit to find the writing mojo.

(TW: miscarriage, fertility issues)

Cat threatens thirteen - no, fourteen - people with everything from being fired to actual bodily harm, but it only gets her home 30 minutes sooner than originally planned. When she’d heard Kara’s voicemail, Cat had wanted nothing more than her wife’s ability to fly. Instead she’s stuck crossing three states and an entire city at a frustratingly human pace.

Keep reading

Shingeki no Kyojin chapter 94 review (+ theories)

Too bad June means I’ll be busy till the end of the month but… finally… This is the chapter that concluded volume 23: a volume specifically dedicated to Marley, with mentions from the inhabitants of Paradis.

In this chapter, we’re back to Rebellio: the internment zone confining all Eldians from Paradis. 

That chapter certainly didn’t end up in a whole cliffhanger, but more like as a comparison between children’s lives on Paradis and outside of Paradis. We also got more details about two things: the lifestyle of an Eldian family inside the walls, present-time, and the birth of the present warrior generation.

  1. Falco
  2. The mysterious man
  3. The comeback
  4. Gabi and the Braun family
  5. Reiner’s past

I doubt this is going to be as long as last review, but there’s still a couple of points worth elaborating. As always, follow me under the cut.

Keep reading

Silk sheets have never felt more soothing against his skin, Alec determines. The moon has never glowed so bright, and the clothes scattered around the floor have never left the room in a more wonderful sort of disarray.

He looks at Magnus where he lies, his head pressed into Alec’s shoulder, and notes that he seems to become even more beautiful with every passing minute, like a dream. His chest rises and falls without burden, and his breath ghosts along Alec’s bare skin, a hand pressed against Alec’s stomach.

The room is just as familiar in the dark as in the day, and Alec can pinpoint each little intricacy, attach stories to each painting, remember the way sunlight would turn from grey to golden as morning stumbled into afternoon, ring-clad hands pulling him back under the covers for just five more minutes of a world without war.

Alcohol buzzes in Alec’s veins, and he remembers the walk home, Magnus’ hand on his back. He remembers the way beer turned into martinis, and martinis turned into carefree giggling as they pressed together on the couch, eyes taking in each detail like they’d never before had the chance. Alec, helping an exhausted Magnus into bed. Magnus, tugging on Alec’s shirt, laughing when he collapsed down onto the covers with a thud. Silence as their hands explored what had been temporarily forbidden territory, voices light and slow and savoury, each word melting into the next.

Lips against his that felt like coming home, familiar in the most aching way, as sleep tugged at the edges of his mind.

I don’t think I can live without you, Alec had said, and yeah; that sounds about right.

i know looking in the mirror with tears streaming down your cheeks is no fun and it’s hard to pull yourself together after you’ve just collapsed and you feel like everything inside of you is pulling in opposite directions and your body can’t decide which way to follow so you’re ripping at the seams and you’re bleeding; you can’t stop bleeding. and so you get weaker and your limbs feel too heavy to drag behind you all the time and the weight of the world is just a bit too crushing for your shoulders to burden and you’re falling behind. everyone else is running through life at a comfortable pace but you can’t even bring yourself to get up and attempt to race and you so you start to lose hope and you forget to open your eyes even once just to look at the sky and so all you belong to is darkness and everything seems hopeless and you want to give up. but i’m telling you, don’t. i know the stars have stopped whispering advice to you in your sleep so you could wake up and think it was a dream and i know you don’t really sleep anymore and everything seems like too much but it’s not. you are the universe inside of a person and you are bursting with light. all that blood is not beauty, but it is constellations and you are filled with that vast darkness speckled with stars and planets and life. and i know you’re always trying to hollow yourself out and your heart feels like it’s faced it’s very last explosion but you can withstand so much more. there is still so much left for you. you just have to get back up and start finding it again.