they call the rising sun

don’t call me if you meet another girl with the ocean in her eyes, but they just don’t compare don’t call me
next time she leaves you and you need my shoulder to cry on don’t call me
when you’re drunk and you think to dial my number because I was the only person who could ever sober you up don’t you dare call me
if you stay up all night until the sun rises and remember that we had planned to watch it together, don’t call me
when you roll over and sleeply mistake her golden locks for mine please don’t call me
when you get an invitation to my wedding some day don’t call me, it was only to spite you
and when she asks why you’re losing your mind I hope you have to tell her every detail of us and I hope it tears you apart inside to admit you lost the only person who ever gave a damn.. and then when it does don’t fucking call me
—  I’m better off without you anyways (@needumost)

Have you guys seen this flag before?
I feel like a lot of people assume that this is a cool way to draw the Japanese flag or something, but it isn’t.

This flag is called the Rising Sun flag. And it seems to me that people aren’t too aware of the history behind this flag and why it should not be used.

This flag was used by the imperial Japanese army.
When Korea was under Japanese rule in the late 1800’s and the early 1900’s, my people were treated like animals.
My great grandmother was a lucky few that wasn’t robbed of her culture and language in her generation.
My great grandmother’s brother was a teacher, and Japanese men took him and rolled him in a hay carpet and beat him up. He was always sick and wobbled when he walked until the day he passed away.

These are the less scarier stories, because my mother’s family was one of the richer families.
Women were kidnapped and taken as sex-slaves for the army. They were raped and were tortured.
Children were beat to death by Japanese teachers.
My people were used in all sorts of experiments to fulfill curiosity.
I’m not gonna speak more about the terrible things because they were horrendous and inhumane. You can do some researches on your own.

I’m not much of an expert, but the Chinese also went through the similar things as we did.

But that flag was hung all around Korea during that time. This flag is a constant reminder of what my families had to go through.

This flag is no better than the Swastika.
This flag will forever be tied to the horror that my people had to go through.

It is so disgusting to see people justify this flag because it “was originally a symbol for good prosperity”.
Swastika was “originally a symbol of well-being”.

Does that give me the right to wear the flag around in every merchandise? and when a Jewish person comes up and tells me that it is offends them and explains the history, can I just say “It originally wasn’t the Nazi sign. It’s only cultural appreciation.”?

Absolutely not.

But when I looked up the Rising Sun Flag, it says that the use of the flag is controversial because Koreans and Taiwanese take offense to the flag, and it pretty much says that people were told not to bring it to Olympics for the sake of the butt-hurt Koreans and Chinese people.
As if we weren’t supposed to take offense to this flag.

Although I’m not an expert of everything related to this, I’ll do my best to answer if you have any questions.

Also, no, I don’t have any ill feelings toward Japan. (some of my family members do, because their parents and siblings were killed and/or was tortured)
Although I do want the government to acknowledge and apologize the fact that they did in fact torture my people, and teach what happened to their students.
I am not angry at the Japanese citizens.

The reason why I’m making this post is because this white anime-lover boy came to school with a shirt with this flag during our school’s color wars by grade, and he has been wearing the shirt every year.
Even after a lot of our Korean students asked nicely him to not wear the shirt again. Every. Year.
He manages to complain about the “so much shit I got” from wearing the flag.
I asked him later and he word for word said “Yeah, the Japanese raped the shit out of your women” he knew the history just as much as we did. He justified it with cultural appreciation.
I know that some people may own merchandise with this flag on without knowing what it means, or even sell it without knowing.
But please, it really hurts us when we see this flag justified, worn and drawn all around by all sorts of people.

So please, educate yourself, and others.
Spread the word.

Request: Blessed

Request: Could you write a story where the reader is a maid at the motel and Sam and Dean are sleeping in (without a case, so they sleep in late) but hear a pretty voice singing classic rock next door (as reader sings while cleaning) and Sam convinces dean to at least go see who is singing and he’s smitten. Thanks!!

Word Count: 1,213


Dean is very much used to harsh awakenings. Blaring alarms, the cut of a knife, a bucket of cold water… there’s not much that’s foreign to him anymore. Late mornings, on the other hand, when the sun is far above the horizon and yet he’s still in bed, remain his favourites, because he’s able to wake on his own time, at his own pace, and maybe finally get out of bed not feeling completely exhausted.

So when he’s woken far before his usual post-case-lie-in time, for a few moments he’s mildly annoyed. That is, until he hears exactly what woke him up:

“There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I’m one,”

He’s heard angels speaking. He’s heard them screaming, and smashing windows with it – so to say an angel’s voice was coming through the paper-thin motel wall couldn’t be further from the truth. This is the opposite – sweet and soothing, and even better, singing a song he’s loved since childhood.

Throughout the sing, the voice hits each and every note, somehow capturing the haunting rhythm of the song within a bright, airy, melodic tone. He’s completely entranced. All he can do is lie there, his hands locked behind his head, and let himself be relaxed by the soothing voice as it moves through a veritable playlist of absolute classics – the gap between songs leaves him waiting in suspense, hoping for another one to start up – and the voice always obliges, and the opening notes to whichever song it chooses sound even sweeter than ever.

“You’re not going to go and flirt with her?” Sam’s voice startles Dean out of his reverie, though the voice doesn’t leave his mind.

“She’s… I don’t know what she’s doing. I don’t want to disturb her.” He says quickly – there’s a part of him that enjoys the mystery, the not knowing, the building up the image of a woman in his mind: in his head, she’s beautiful, but not overtly so – and she’s funny, with a bright, mischievous smile. It’s all an illusion, of course, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a nice mirage to bask in the glow of, either way.

“Disturb her? What’s gotten into you?” Sam’s incredulity is clearly audible in his tone, and the elder brother peels open one eye to give his brother a look.

“Nothing. But she’s obviously busy.” As if on cue, the singing pauses for a moment and is replaced with the sound of furniture scraping across the floor before starting back up again.

“You’re nervous.” Sam grins as the realisation reaches him, “You’re actually nervous to speak to a girl. Why? You’ve talked to girls who like rock before.”

“I know, I just-“

“I’m sure she’s nice enough. I’m assuming she’s staff, judging by the cleaning cart just outside the door, so she’s basically contractually obligated to be nice to you,” When Dean doesn’t reply and still looks dubious, Sam sighs in resignation, “At least go and see who it is. What she’s like. And if you like her, we don’t have a case or anywhere to be, so staying another few days shouldn’t be a problem.”


Dean drags himself out of the bed after that, hurrying into his jeans with such haste that he manages to shove both legs into one trouser-leg and nearly end up flat on his face, to his younger brother’s infinite amusement.

However, for once Dean doesn’t bite back, and instead heads out of the room somehow feeling a thousand times more refreshed than usual despite not having even touched the coffee pot. He nearly hesitates outside the door, but after a short pep talk and a mental kick up his own ass, he shifts the cleaning trolley out of the way and knocks, two sharp raps on the open door.

The sound cuts your voice off instantly, and you turn from what you were doing – changing over the (frankly, disgusting) bedsheets. They drop into a crumpled heap of faded, stained linen at your feet as you flash him a bright, friendly smile and brush your hands off on the black tabard that’s draped over your jeans and black t-shirt, the design of which he can’t make out for the over-garment.

“Can I help you?” You ask him sweetly, and he’s taken aback by how kind your expression is, and how beautiful you are – even more so than the vision he’d cooked up in his head, despite his thinking that it couldn’t be possible.

“Hi, I- uh- no, I-“ Dean Winchester, flustered. If you knew him, you’d be a lot more impressed than you are amused, considering the laugh that escapes your lips. Part of him wants to muffle the sound with his own lips, the other wants to listen to it forever.

“Is it your room? I was coming there next, I promise, but the people in here last… I don’t know what they were doing. I don’t think I want to know.” You shudder, only partially in hyperbole. He huffs with laughter, suddenly remembering the various states of filth and chaos he’d left motel rooms in over the years and feeling a flash of guilt.

“No, it’s fine. We were lying in anyway. I woke up to your excellent serenade.” He smiles, hoping it comes across as flirtatious, despite it feeling more hysterical.

“Oh, I woke you?” The flush that spreads across your cheeks is nothing short of adorable, “I’m so sorry, I knew the walls were thin, but-“

“Not like that!” He quickly corrects you, “I was just curious. I had to see who was singing my kind of music so well.”

“Your kind of…” He watches as you put the pieces together in your mind, “Is that why you’re wearing an AC/DC shirt backwards?”

He looks down and, sure enough, there are tour dates emblazoned down his chest – it’s his turn to flush then, but you only laugh, going back to piling bedsheets into the laundry hamper you’ve set at the foot of the bed.

“I guess it is.” He smiles, leaning against the doorframe, “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.” You look up at him and, again, smile with a face full of sunshine. It warms even the deepest darkest reaches of his soul, where no light dares venture anymore. But you do, and you don’t even know it.

“I absolutely assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” He grins, straightening up and taking a step towards you, “I know you’re working and everything, but when do you get off?”

“Noon.” You reply, “As long as I get everything done.”

“In that case, you wanna grab some lunch? My treat. My brother and I are in town for a while, and I need someone who knows where all the good pie is.”

“Your brother? He coming too?” You ask offhandedly, doing a great job of looking casual about it. Dean scoffs.

“Not a chance. He’s all… salad and sadness.” Dean rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh.

“I happen to know a pretty good place. I’ll meet you at your room at noon-thirty?”

“Noon-thirty it is.” He agrees, and you bless him with another grin.

“It’s a date, then.”  

💙 💚 Room For Ruby 💚 💙

Let’s take a moment of appreciation for the fact that Peridot and Lapis are sitting watching the sun rise together.

Peridot calls the sun “a star to wish on”, implying that they’ve actually been sat there together all night, looking at the sky before watching the sun come up.

This is an old romantic cliché – and is exactly what Peridot wanted to do with Lapis back in Barn Mates.

Peridot:  “And then I’ll say, ‘Hey, as one refugee to another, it isn’t so bad that we can’t go back to Homeworld,  am I right?  Why don’t we watch the sun come up and figure out what we’re going to do with all this time, eh Lazuli?’

Solangelo Headcannon’s:

Originally posted by pottergerms

  • Nico always wanting to cuddle and/or touch Will in anyway
  • They are always sneaking into each others cabins for sleepovers. Mostly Will into Nico’s
  • The only time Nico doesn’t have nightmares is when Will is sleeping next to him
  • Nico watching Will getting out of the shower and just muttering a silent “holy shit”
  • Will calling Nico ‘death boy’ just to get a rise out of him
  • Nico returning the favour and calling him ‘sun boy’ or ‘sunshine’
  • Will always being the first one up in the morning, and Nico threatening violence if he is woken up before 9am
  • When Nico is sick Will keeps a very close eye on him, knowing how he is with medication
  • When Will is sick Nico is almost worse. Since he has no idea what to do he just kind of shoves everything towards Will and tries his best to be of assistance
  • “Hand me the bottle of medication. The green one”
  • “Here”
  • “No the green one”
  • “Okay”
  • “NO the green one” 
  • “WILL THEY are all green”
  • “Gods I’ll be dead before sundown”
  • Nico shunning all forms of touch while out in public, but when they are alone he never wants Will’s hands off of him
  • Slowly he gets better with public affection
  • Will trying to get Nico to join in on the camp fire sing along’s
  • “Solace you are lucky I am even here, don’t you dare drag me up there’
  • Will getting Nico a pack of Mythomagic cards for his birthday, because nostalgia 
  • After Will confessed the places he had always wanted to visit, Nico shadow traveled them to one of those places every night. (Much to Will’s constant scorn for wearing himself out with his powers)
  • Little kisses on cheeks
Sing me to sleep

(A/N): I was feeling sad so I wrote some Bucky fluff to cheer myself up…. 

Summary: Bucky can only fall asleep when (Y/N) is singing to him. 

 Warnings: none

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah

Originally posted by sebstanslaugh

    It had started out when (Y/N) had started singing on a mission to calm their nerves. They were out in the middle of nowhere, out in the open, giving anyone the perfect opportunity to sneak up on them during the night. Everyone’s anxiety was high, especially (Y/N)’s, to the point they had began to gnaw on their nails, biting them down into nubs but they could only do that for so long before their fingertips began to hurt. Then they gnawed on their lips, taking good chunks of skin off as they dragged their bottom lip through their teeth. But not even that sufficed their nerves so they resorted to fidgeting and constantly looking around their miserable little camp in fear. 

   "(Y/N),“ Steve grumbled from his sad sleeping bag. "Stop, no one’s gonna ambush us out here," 

   "but what if-”

    “no what it’s, now get some sleep god knows you need it-” But no matter how valiantly they tried to ward off their anxiety they simply couldn’t do it. So they took up the last measure in their book; singing softly to themself. It had always been a comfort for them (something they weren’t happy to admit) but drastic times called for drastic measures. 

   "Hey there Delilah, what’s it like in New York City-“ (Y/N)’s voice quietly filled the silent night air, slowly but surely lulling everyone into a much more relaxed sleep.

    Their voice was so soft and so sweet that it was impossible not to immediately melt- something Bucky himself was struggling with. He blinked sleepily as (Y/N ) continued to sing, gently tapping on their thigh in time with the music. 

    "I’m a thousand miles away but girl Tonight you look so pretty yes you do, Times Square don’t shine as bright as you,” Bucky allowed his head to rest against the tree behind him, his eyes finally slipping shut as he listened to (Y/N) intently.

    (Y/N) sang through the entire song, their eyes closed as they desperately willed themselves to rest and by the end of the song their last resort seemed to work as they slipped to sleep, even if it was a rather fitful one. That’s when Bucky’s little predicament had started; the one where he positively couldn’t sleep unless (Y/N) was singing or humming to him. 

    That night had to Have been the best night of rest Bucky had had in ages even if it was on some terrible Forest floor surrounded by all Of his teammates. Even with all of his medication, the special aroma therapy Bruce wanted Bucky to try, even with all the pre-bed meditation and tea, even with the nicest mattress anyone could find It still wouldn’t compare to falling asleep listening to (Y/N)’s voice.

     It had been the day the team returned from the mission, sore and thoroughly wiped out. Everyone was practically falling asleep as they walked through the doors- well, everyone but Bucky. Even despite his exhaustion he didn’t lag like everyone else, he didn’t drag his feet or yawn every 30 seconds, he simply wasn’t holding himself to the level of exhaustion that everyone else was. So when everyone branched off to bed and Bucky was left in his dark, cold room it was no surprise he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, tried yoga and sleeping pills, he quite honestly tried everything but then suddenly there was a quiet voice in the room besides his, the soft voice from just a few days prior.

    “There is a house in New Orleans they call the rising sun,” Bucky listened intently a he lay comfortably on his back, pulling the blankets up over his chin as the voice sweeper through the thinner walls. “And it’s been the ruin of many a good boy and god I know I’m one-” The voice stops suddenly, coming to a close much to Bucky distaste.

    “Hey, I was listening to that, put it back,” Bucky smirked as he knocked on his wall, knowing (Y/N)’s bed was positioned directly on the other side, aligning with his.

    There was silence for a few minutes, a spine tingling silence in which Bucky thought that perhaps something had happened to (Y/N) and that’s why they stopped so suddenly or maybe he had scared them off with his commentary? But just as Bucky began to doubt himself the voice began again.

    “My mother was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a gambling man, down in New Orleans,” Bucky smiles sleepily as he nuzzles into his pillow, allowing his eyes to slip shut as (Y/N)’s pleasant voice was ringing through his ears. “Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk-” (Y/N)’s voice got quieter with each word, slowly becoming part of the background as Bucky finally fell asleep. 

    From then on out it had become a sort of routine for the two, Bucky would lay on one side of the wall and (Y/N) on the other while the latter sang songs to Bucky, any number or style of them. Sometimes it’d be 1 song or other times it’s be 15, sometimes it’d be contemporary and other times it would be classic rock. Either way it was gorgeous and how Bucky couldn’t sleep without it.

    Their little game of beat around the bush blasted months until one night (Y/N) suddenly walked into Bucky’s room, took a seat on his bed and began to sing. That night Bucky had curled up in (Y/N)’s sweet embrace as they sang to him, soft sweet melodies that eased his worried nerves. That night Bucky also figured out there was another thing he couldn’t physically sleep without; (Y/N) themself. So now here he was; nearly a year and half later with his head in (Y/N)’s lap as they sang sweet songs to him.

    “He’s got eyes of the bluest skies as if they thought of rain, I’d hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain,” (Y/N)’s fingers glide through Bucky’s hair, only making the soldier that much sleepier. “His hair reminds of warm safe place where as a child I’d hide and wait for thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by, oh, oh, sweet child of mine,” (Y/N) smiles at Bucky as he nuzzles into their stomach, smiling sleepily to himself. “Oh, sweet love of mine.” (Y/N) concludes their little preview quietly, their voice barely above a whisper as they finish. 

   "Can you sing me one more?“ Bucky asks just as quietly if not more due to the fact he had buried his face in (Y/N)’s clothes and stomach.

    "I’ve already sang to you all of the classic rock songs I’ve been able to- to ‘lullabize’,”

    “please?” Bucky’s voice was sleepy, it was evident that he was on his way out- perhaps he really did just need one more song. So with a tired albeit happy smile (Y/N) begins another song. 

   "Hey Jude, don’t make it bad, take a sad song and make it better,“ Bucky smiles as (Y/N) sings to him; a song they had sung a million times but it was still his favorite. "Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better,” Bucky begins to drift off to the sound of (Y/N)’s voice, each note soothing him into a restful sleep. He was so at peace he didn’t realize (Y/N) had even finished their song until they had leaned down, pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky’s nose, and pulled the covers up over his body. 

    “Goodnight my dear,” Is the last thing Bucky remembered hearing before he fell fast asleep, nestled in (Y/N)’s safe and warm embrace.

unfortunatelackofaliens  asked:

for the fic recs, perhaps some angsty 8th year?

Thanks so much for your support, @teamfreetitan! These have varying degrees of angst, with some that made me burst out sobbing and others that gently wounded my heart before soothing the hurt with loveliness, and a few are either immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts or Hogwarts Era, but I love them all, so I hope this is okay! 

What Malfoys Don’t Do (Lady_Slytherin, 50k): Draco’s trying to cling to his old reputation and prove that he’s still a real Malfoy and that the war hasn’t broken him. Unfortunately, he can’t sleep, keeps getting overwhelmed with the feelings he’s desperately trying to repress, has to deal with a wonky wand that’s doing magic he doesn’t know, and has a very earnest Harry following him around wanting to help

Of the Heart’s Fullness and of the Coming Emptiness (tout-a-coup, 9k): Everyone’s walking on eggshells around Harry and treating him like a revered hero, and Harry doesn’t really know what to make of it. He doesn’t know what he wants or what he has to look forward to now, he just knows that there’s something about Draco’s acerbic dismissal of his hero status that makes him feel grounded

When the Songbird Stopped Singing (Nherizu, 37k): Draco feels so disconnected from his emotions that he’s often at a loss on how to react without drawing unwanted attention to himself. He tries to remember how he used to behave and mimic those actions, but Harry senses the disconnect and keeps seeking him out, determined to help

I Am Your Shadow (@eidheann, 3k): Draco feels isolated and Harry feels nothing at all, although with Draco’s help, Harry’s willing to try

The Swallows Will Return (This_Bloody_Cat, 4k): A numb and disconnected Harry finds himself getting involved with Draco, and slowly he starts to feel again  

Where Darkness Follows (@alpha-exodus, 12k): At their beginning of their eighth year, Harry can’t stop dreaming about Draco and his Mark, and finds himself drawn to him like a magnet

The Jabberwock (blithelybonny, 9k): Everyone goes on a field trip to a magical animal preserve, where they end up having to face a fearsome Jabberwock

Azoth (zeitgeistic, 89k): Harry decides to study to become a Potions Master, with the help of Draco and Snape’s portrait

Manticoria (zeitgeistic, 71k): The magical wards are falling around Britain, so the Ministry assigns the eighth years into groups to work on strengthening their defenses and finding a solution

Trust in Hope (Omi_Ohmy, 20k): When everyone in school shuns him, Draco finds himself grateful to Neville, who’s paired with him on an Herbology project and makes an effort to be kind to him. Harry notices Draco’s efforts to make amends for his past behavior and encourages Draco to try to still retain some of his old snarky arrogance

Mental (Sara Holmes, 196k): Harry and Draco are accidentally linked by a Legilimency bond and can hear each other’s thoughts. Although they initially resent it, they soon find themselves closer than they ever expected

Unexpected Consequences (lauren3210, 39k): As a punishment for his involvement with the Death Eaters, Draco has to be bound to someone. He requests Harry, who reluctantly agrees. They return to Hogwarts and get their own quarters, and find themselves drowning in sexual tension

No Greater Victory (@dictacontrion, 27k): Draco makes a bet with Pansy that he can make Harry fall in love with him and then break his heart

Wildfire (abbycadabra, 20k): Wildfires are decimating the land, Draco is hurting, and Harry feels nothing. They start hate fucking, and Draco revels in the distracting pleasure/pain while Harry is just glad to be able to feel anything at all.

And I Know the Spark (@firethesound, 16k): Harry and Draco are in a secret relationship during their sixth year. To help save Harry’s life, Draco breaks up with him and secretly goes undercover with the Death Eaters, spending his days trying to foil their plans and figure out a way to keep Harry safe (Warning: dubcon that borders on noncon)

Deep Waters (huldrejenta, 13k): Fed up with feeling numb, Draco decides to take charge of his life once again by conquering his fears and teaching himself to swim

Beyond the Mirror’s Edge (VivacissimoVoce, 40k): After a spell goes wrong, Harry seemingly disappears from existence, thought to be not quite dead but not alive either. Draco can’t understand why he’s not happier about this news, nor why he keeps hearing a strange voice calling out to him 

Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) (ICMezzo, 38k): Immediately after the final battle, Harry and Draco both find their way to the Room of Requirement and end up hiding out in there, wounded and angry and unsure where to go next.

To be Back Again in the Rest of the Room (lamerezouille, 16k): Draco and Harry are trapped in the Room of Requirement with ghost Crabbe, only one bed, and no way out


I want a girlfriend I can go on adventures with, someone who understands my awkward and impulsiveness, a girl that I can wake up at 3 in the morning to drive to a completely different city with just to get coffee and watch the sun rise. A girl that I can call at anytime of day just to hear her voice. A girl I can make a mixtape for of all the songs that mean a lot to us. I girl that notices when I’m having troubles and knows if I want to be alone or need her there to comfort me. A girl that I can dance with at night in the middle of her driveway under the light of millions of shining stars.
Just a girl who stands by my side and loves me for me.

Tallmadge tells about “a country girl,” sent into Philadelphia supposedly to sell eggs but told to “obtain some information respecting the enemy.” Tallmadge was “at a tavern called the Rising Sun,” getting a report from the egg seller when he was warned that British cavalry were nearby. “Stepping to the door,” he wrote, “I saw them at full speed chasing in my patrols.” Tallmadge leaped to his saddle, hoisted up the woman, and galloped off. During a three-mile ride, “although there was considerable firing of pistols, and not a little wheeling and charging, she remained unmoved, and never once complained of fear” (x).

#HistoricalTallmadge Month | August 2017



the hurt he left will engrave itself into your skin;
do not let it become you.
{Hera, ichor runs golden through your veins.}


your heart is a lion chained, and it thrashes against the jail of your ribcage.
{take up your arrows, Artemis; the forest calls.}


some days, the sun will always seem to be rising somewhere else.
{Hestia, this is true for both mortals and gods.}


love pours out of you in rivulets, Aphrodite;
don’t try to stem its flow.
{some things are worth bleeding for.}


Dionysus, there is something brave in you:
a stairwell,
a pitfall,
a gangplank, unseen.
{you are more than just a graveyard for your regrets.}


violets break through the snow,            
and nostalgia pierces through you like a January wind,
gilding your bones with ice.
{Demeter, you should know that winter does not last.}


Hermes, there will come a day where you’ll be free,                      
and the past will fall like shackles from your wrists.                                    
{the clouds will always be there to catch you.}


the sky swallows your screams, Poseidon—  
the ocean crests in time with your fury.
just look at how the wind is whipped into a frenzy by your arms.
{those who are scared of your shipwrecks have no right to brave your sea.}


stop shattering your swords against their shields, Ares;  
you are the only one who ends up with bruised knuckles.
{dignity can be as quiet as a simple straightening of the spine.}  


let them make you their villain; let them cast their stones.       
{your crown of roses holds no thorns, Hades.}                 


Athena, your eyes are shattered windows
and everyone can see through the cracks.
{you are beautiful and never broken.}


stop clinging to their ghosts:
stop searching for the smile that Cassandra never gave you;
stop listening for the wisp of Daphne’s lost-lorn laughter.
{I need you to remember, Apollo, that they didn’t want to stay.}

LETHE | e.c.s

Hello || Joe (pt 2)

Joe masterpost found here

Word count - 1,524

Summary - The one after the drunken honesty.

(part 1)


You were awake long before Joe was. Worried that Joe may wake up with no recollection of the night before, you had him sleep in your bed while you stayed on the couch. Sure, it had you tossing and turning all night, but you thought that was better than waking up to Joe’s confused and hungover face.

As soon as the sun started to peek through your windows, you were out of bed. You made yourself a cup of coffee and walked out to your porch, dragging a blanket out with you. You sat on your patio couch, tucking your feet underneath you and pulling the blanket over your lap. You were dressed in shorts and a jumper, and with a blanket covering your legs, you were quite comfortable in the brisk March air.

While your body was comfortable, your mind was going mad. Would Joe remember anything when he woke up? Was he drunkenly rambling the night before, or did he really feel the way he expressed? Did you want him to remember? What would happen if he did remember? You weren’t sure you wanted any of those questions to be answered.

Of course though, they had to be. Joe had woken up and was now sitting beside you, a coffee cup in his own hands. “I helped myself,” he mumbled. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Did you find the Advil?”

“Same drawer as always,” he said back. You nodded, staring back off into the skyline. The sun was still rising. “I’m sorry I called you,” he said, breaking the silence between you. “That was wrong.”

“You were drunk,” you said. “I understand.” You paused, taking a sip of your coffee. Joe did so as well. “Do you remember what happened?” you asked quietly.

“Some of it,” he mumbled, his lips still close to his mug. He took another sip. “Enough to know that we should talk about some stuff.”

You stared down at your coffee cup, your heart beating too fast for your liking. “I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you lied blatantly. 

“Can you just,” Joe sighed. “For a few minutes, can you just knock your walls down, just long enough for us to talk?” You sighed, still avoiding eye contact completely with Joe. “You said you still love me,” he said gently. You finally willed yourself to look at him to see that his blue eyes were already staring at you.

You snorted, “That much you remember.”

“(Y/N),” Joe sighed. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you mumbled.

“Tell me that I heard you right,” he was almost begging now. “Tell me that you still love me.” You sighed, looking down at your mug again.

“Yeah, I still love you,” you said quietly, thinking back to your phone conversation with him the night before. “You’re kind of hard to let go of.”

You still wouldn’t look up at Joe. You stared at the small amount of coffee still swirling at the bottom of your mug as if it was more interesting than the sun slowly rising in the sky. Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand on top of yours, rubbing his thumb on your skin. It was as if you had gone back in time, remembering all of the moments you had sat with him on his balcony, talking about random things, counting the stars in the sky, fighting and then making up. And then the proposal where you handed him back the ring you couldn’t take and walked out of his life.

In that instant, you started crying. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and you were crying almost silently. You had walked away from the best thing that ever happened to you for what? Safety? Security? Assurance that he could never leave you if you left him first? “You know,” you finally said, sniffing whilst trying to control your tears, “my grandpa left my grandpa when I was 5. And my dad left my mom when I was 12. I just, the man has walked out of every marriage I’ve ever seen. I could be in a relationship with you because I convinced myself that we were safe as long as we never got married. Then, well then you proposed and all I could see was my 12 year old self sitting on the couch with my mom while she tried to explain to me what she meant by Dad’s not coming back. I felt like I was drowning in the outcomes of every marriage that I’ve ever seen fail. I didn’t want that to be us.”

Joe continued to just rub your arm with his thumb. He didn’t make any moves closer to you, not wanting to break down another wall when you didn’t yet want him to. “You could’ve talked to me,” he said quietly. “I thought you stopped loving me. It fucked me up so bad, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you said, covering your face with your hands. Your breath was shaky and you felt tears on your face again. The guilt you had been carrying was so heavy, the weight of it was finally crashing down on you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Joe said quietly, pulling your hands away from your face. His eyes locked with yours and you instantly felt a sense of relief. His eyes always had a way of doing that to you. “You still breathing, yeah?” he said, his thumb resuming the gentle rub on your arm. “You’re alright. You’re alright.” You nodded, sniffing again to compose yourself.

“I’m just so sorry,” you repeated. “I can see it in your eyes that you’re tired. You look sickly, Joe.” And it was true. The bags under his eyes were horrendous and his skin looked pale. He looked even thinner than usual, like he hadn’t been eating properly in months. “Joe when was the last time you ate something?”

“I eat,” he said defensively.

“Like a meal, Joe,” you said.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, brushing some hair out of his face. “This isn’t about me right now.”

“Joseph you’re not well!” you said sternly. “I don’t like this.” Your thumbs brushed across his face, under his eyes and to his temples. He immediately closed his eyes at your touch. “This is my fault, isn’t it?”

“I’m alright,” he said, his voice small.

“You’re lying,” you said. “I can hear it in your voice.”

Joe sighed, “I told you last night that I just, I don’t know how to be over you. I was bad and then I was okay and now I feel empty again. I’m trying so hard, (Y/N), you gotta know that.” He paused, forcing a smile on his face again, “You’re doing good though, yeah?”

“No, I’m not,” you said firmly, your words slightly shocking you. This was the first time you actually admitted this to yourself, let alone to Joe. “No, I’m not doing good. I let go of the one person who could put up with me because I was afraid. And now, well now I just feel sad all the time. I feel sad and alone and I want to call someone to tell them how I feel but the only person I can think to call is you. I love you. I love you so fucking much that it’s killing me right now to see you like this. If I could take all your pain and put it on my shoulders, I would. Because I’m the one who deserves it. I’m the one who hurt you so I should be suffering. I just want everything to go back to how it was because I have never been happier than during those three years when I was with you. So no Joe, I’m not good. I feel empty and I’m trying to fill myself back up but there’s a hole in my heart and it’s shaped a whole lot like you and I can’t fill that back up on my own.”

Joe pressed his lips against yours so quickly, you almost jumped. The feeling was so familiar, though, that you instantly relaxed and kissed him back. His hands were on your face and yours were around his neck, loving the way his hair felt against your finger tips again. You weren’t sure who pulled away from the kiss, but when you did, your foreheads stayed pressed up against each others. “I’m so in love with you,” Joe whispered. “And we don’t have to get married. Not right now. Not ever if you don’t want to.”

“I want to get married, Joe,” you said. “Maybe not right now, but I will marry you. I will. I really will.” Joe smiled and for the first time in a while, it actually made his eyes light up like they used to. With his lips centimeters away from yours, you could feel him smile again.

“Well, I’m glad I kept that ring then.”

And as the sun came up over the horizon, a new day began and the Earth got a fresh start. So did your relationship with Joe.

anonymous asked:

Reactions of Cor/Ravis/Ardyn to their astral-related s/o sacrificed herself to bring them back from death's grip

Scream crying, Cry screaming! I’m so happy/sad, someone is making me angst someone other than the Chocobros!  (I’m such a monster, for even thinking that) ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚



For as long as Cor could remember, you were with him, his charm, the one that made him feel immortal. Many only knew of the man in himself, yet few knew of the wife that pushed through each heartache, victory and each death that surrounded the man in his years.

Cor remembered watching you battle along side him with each king he serviced, in a gaurd separate his own, he watched as the world you both lived in became black, he watched you push himself and the other hunters forward each day. Often while pushing yourself to the limit only to stop when your husband demanded it so.

Cor was just outside Insomnia’s ruins, as the final battle took place, you loyally at his side as you always were. Yet maybe it was old age, maybe it was carelessness about finally feeling hope after 10 years of the thought of seeing a sunrise with you again. Yet be as it might, the man was one moment short, before a deamon struck him from behind, you had quickly destroyed it, calling out to your husband in a fear he had never heard fall from your lips.

You cradled him in your lap, as you both watched the Citadel glow a bright blue, only as the light faded did he hear you screaming to the heavens. A loud cry of help, of assistance, in a forgotten language, only for the city of Insomnia to quickly be struck in a blinding light.

As the light faded, Cor, found your roles reversed, now he held you in his lap, looking around the desolate castle, surrounded by Gladiolus, Prompto, Ignis and Noctis! All alive, the man turned to you in his arms, only to see the young woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago, who was too weak to even move.

Cor responded to your request to carry you to your favorite spot within the citadel, all while listening of how you were truly an immortal who had assist the man she had fallen in love with and earned his love in return.

An Astral’s creation send down to him.

Yet you had pleaded with the gods to not kill all that you had learn to love and cherish, the gods took pity on you, only to take you back as a bargain, which you quickly accepted. Now you were slowly leaving this world, and wanted nothing more than to go back to the garden where you had first met.

Cor honored your request, as he stood in the garden, that once held so many memories for the both of you. The older man, held you tight as he stood under the old dead tree where he would often meet you for brief moments, before duty called again.

Cor held you close, as the sun begun to rise for the first time, in so many years of darkness. Cor felt a smile tug on his lips as you looked toward the rising sun, before turning to him. Moving a hand to rest against his cheek, as you smiled so brightly to him.

He watched through your eyes, the countless battles you fought side by side, the love and respect you held for each other, the trials you faced together. Cor watch your lives through your eyes, smiling down to the beauty that was his wife, Cor watched as those lips curved into a soft smile, a single tear falling down your cheek, as those eyes closed to the world.

His best friend, his partner, his will, his wife, his everything. left this world happy in the arms of the man she loved.

Cor held you close, his shoulders shaking as he watched the sun rise for the first time in 10 years. His first of many without you by his side.



“Father please! Don’t hurt him too! He’s already lost so much!”

Ravus groaned, that voice, it sounded so familiar, so very familiar, only to gasp as he saw you arguing with a large glowing man, Bahamut? The man moved to stand only to groan in pain as he was forced back to the ground, the bile Ardyn’s magic provided still on him. His body felt so heavy, so weak.

“You plead for this human’s life?”

“I do!” You cry.

Ravus gasped as Bahamut turned toward him, the god seeming to be judging him over, before turning back to you.

“Little one, should you save this man’s life you will never be with him again.”

“If I don’t save this man’s life, I’ll never be with him again, Father.” You plead, only for a gasping smile to appear on your face as your Father waved it okay, in doing so you turned to Ravus not far from you, the dark disgusting magic on his body falling off, revealing his human arm regrown.

“Let us go child.” Bahamut called, only to stop when he realized that you weren’t following. “Why do you hesitate, child?”

You fidget looking up to your Astral Father, “Father, may I please say my goodbyes?”

“Make it quick.”

“Thank you, Father.” You bowed before quickly running over to the blonde man, throwing yourself in his arms on the ground. “Ravus, my dear Ravus.”

Ravus hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you close to his chest, “Y/n, my treasure what have you done?”

“My dear, Ravus, I’m so sorry, I could not protect you, please understand that I love you with every fiber of my being, and that I shall never be away from you.”

“There must be away.” He whispered above your head, pulling your head to his neck, able to feel your for the first time with both arms.

“My Ravus, please, I would sacrifice myself again and again to see you happy.” You cooed, tears falling from your eyes. “I will never love anyone other than you, we will be together again some day, I promise.”

“Young one!”

You turned over your shoulder, “Coming Father!” You called, before turning to those beautiful dual colored eyes before you, unable to stop the tears that began to fall faster. “Do not forget me, My Ravus, my heart.”

“My treasure, I look forward to the day we will be together again.” Ravus replied, before pulling you into a kiss. Feeling you slowly disappearing from his embrace, before finding himself back on the dark landing where he had met his demise to Noctis, no Ardyn! Looking to his left, as he saw a sword, in the colors of gold and white, his hand ghosting over it, before pulling it to his lap.

“I shall never be away from you.” Your voice called, as the man closed his eyes, almost seeing your smiling face.

“Do wait for me, my treasure.” Ravus whispered, pushing his lips to the hilt, before standing as he rushed to go assist Noctis and his friends.



Ardyn remembered a pain, that little runt Noctis did it, yet his soul could not rest easy, somehow the little Prince, no, King had managed to escape death with the assistance of his little friends. Hundred of decades gone, his vengeance against the Lucian bloodline was all for naught.

“Ardyn, my beloved.”

Ardyn turned, that familiar voice it couldn’t be, you weren’t within the throne room when the battle took place. Turning his head, the man tried finding you, where could you have gone? Did you too perish in this foolish battle forever stuck within limbo, as he now was.

The gods truly were cruel.

“My beloved, Ardyn, you must be so tired. You have been fighting for so very long, please rest easy now.”

The man turned, as he saw you standing there in limbo, your long robes flowing around you, “My Queen,” He chuckled, as you approached him in this inky darkness that surrounded him. “I would believe that you deserve someone other.”

You gave a soft chuckle, reaching your hands out as the man immediately took them, “My beloved, there is no one else I would love to spend another eternity with, yet our time has ended so soon. I thought I alone could help you, stop this madness but even I could not.”

“My Queen, what are you going on about?” Ardyn inquired, as he held your delicate fingers in his hands.

“My Belove, I was able to be with you time and time again, as I am demi-god, one of the Astral’s children. We are far and in between, I have pleaded with the gods, time and time again to allow you to rest from this burden they themselves casted on you, and then so cruelly cast you aside. Only to toy with you again and again, as so with Noctis’ survival.” You explained, caressing the face before you, only to watch as Ardyn tensed, as you drew the deamons from him. “A weaker man would have fallen long ago, yet you did not, My strong King.”

Ardyn stared at the dark orb in your hand, than to you again, “Y/n, how are you able to,”

“I am only able now due to my pact with the gods, this is our good bye my beloved, my Ardyn.” You smiled weakly, placing the orb against your chest. A gasp escaping you, as it fused within you, your robes now turning as inky and black as the night sky.

Ardyn quickly grabbed your biceps, a panicked look in those amber eyes, “You don’t mean as to leave me.”

“I am sick of the gods toying around with the man I love so dear, I shall now become the night, the darkness, the insanity that is within the world. I will take this burden for you, as I had wish to have done so many hundreds of years ago.”

Ardyn pulled you close, “I shall not allow you to do this!”

You giggled, removing his hat, as you pulled his forehead to rest against your own, “Ardyn, you no longer have to be strong. We both know that the gods are so fickle, perhaps one day we shall meet again.”

Ardyn pulled you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face, pulling back as he looked into those eyes that shed tears for him, “I will never stop loving you, until the end of days and more.”

“And I you, my beloved, my King, my Ardyn.” You smiled, as you stepped from his hold, placing his hat to your head, as you slowly watched the man become at peace.

“The gods could be so cruel,” You whispered, feeling the darkness start to creep in your vision. “Is this the pain you felt, My King? I’m sorry you had to burden this for so long.”


- A Charlatan/Reyes Vidal Fanmix-

A fanmix put together for what I personally feel represents the man known as both the Charlatan and Reyes Vidal.
The ‘Reyes Vidal’ Section is mostly based on me and @stellarisjay​ ‘s many conversations on our own headcanons regarding Reyes’ past in the Milky Way. Also for the impromptu and unofficial ARTISTS ANONYMOUS FANMIX WEEK <3 

Listen here on [Spotify!]  |  Cover Art by [me] | Tracklist & lyrics under cut:
Disclaimer: Songs picked are simply my own opinion and certainly do not speak for the fandom at all.

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Closer (Zoro x Reader) Soulmate AU


Word Count: 2350


You felt soft sunlight on your eyelids, filtered through cheap motel curtains. The smell of freshly made instant coffee—bitter but welcome nevertheless—roused you from sleep, though it was still not enough to mask the scent of the cigarette smoke that permeated the very walls of the place. But you didn’t mind. As far as mornings in motel rooms went, this was pretty close to perfect. Especially when said coffee was being brought to you by a half-naked man in grey sweats that left little to the imagination.

He set the coffee down on the stained nightstand, running one hand through still-damp green hair. You smiled sleepily up at him.

“Mmm, good morning,” you said.

“Morning,” he grinned back.

You sat up and stretched, sighing appreciatively as your joints popped. “What time is it?”

“Just after nine. We got plenty of time.”

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Helping Hands Part 1

Word Count: 2,305

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Warnings/Notes: Cursing, because I miss it. Just a lil something that came to me and that I wanted to get out. (Requests are Open)

You sighed into the phone, “I hate doing this.” You could hear the faint breath of the other person on the phone. They’d been quiet since they heard your voice, and only replied with short curt answers, and only breathing in short little pants. Not you, your heart was racing, your legs bouncing up and down as you nervously tried to get through this phone call.

The sun was barely rising, birds chirping as they flew overhead. The day was going to be a nice one. It was the first day of spring after all. Blood was caked to your clothes, to your face, and to your hands. You couldn’t even tell which was yours anymore, or which was… “It’s just- I’ve never hunted something like this before.”

You ran hand through your hair and closed your eyes. You hated this, hated the sting of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The pain was starting to return. No longer did you have adrenaline to subside it. You looked up at the sky, the pinks and yellows starting to blur in your vision. “And I think- fuck- I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think I need your help.”

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anonymous asked:

Okay okay so sorry I'm about to fan girl all over the place. One little thing I noticed in the most recent chapter when Touka was making all the silly pained expressions was Kaneki saying "Are you?" And while it could end with "okay?" I'd like to think Kaneki was asking "Are you a virgin?" (He seemed sorta surprised to me maybe because a few chapters ago she was cooly asking about his virginity so maybe he assumed?) also his tears!!! Was he crying out of happiness? Sadness? His inner haise???

Fangirl away, anon, if there was ever a time for it, it’s now! Think you might be reading a different translation than me, ‘cause in the mangastream version he definitely says “Are you okay?”

He was crying for the same reason he did when he first saw her in :re (and it’s a deliberate callback to that). The fact that he can be with someone he loves and, crucially, who loves him back, is enough to move him to tears. This chapter was a moment of pure affection between the two of them. No mention of any tragedy or responsibility or the outside world at all. In that moment, it was all there was. Can you imagine his sense of relief? It kind of reminds me of a poem by John Donne called ‘The Sun Rising’ , especially with the reversed 19 referring to the Tarot for the Sun this chapter. Doubt Ishida’s read it, but I thought it was fitting.

She’s all states, and all princes, I,
              Nothing else is.
Princes do but play us; compared to this,
All honor’s mimic, all wealth alchemy.
              Thou, sun, art half as happy as we,
              In that the world’s contracted thus.
        Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
        To warm the world, that’s done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere.

July 21, 1917 - Kaiser Wilhelm Rejects Reichstag Peace Resolution, Promises “Second Punic War” Against England

Pictured - The Kaiser hands out Iron Crosses to troops on the Eastern Front, July 1917. By this point of the war he had become a “shadow-Kaiser,” powerless to his generals. He had never believed in representative government, however. His meeting with Reichstag representatives in July was the first time he had done so in two decades.

Peacemaking efforts took some degree of precedence in the summer of 1917 as all sides began to fret that more harm was staring to come of this war than good. While the British tried to bribe Enver Pasha, the socialist-dominated German Reichstag finally abandoned its truce with the Kaiser and passed a resolution calling for peace. The motion passed by 212 votes to 126. It asked for a “peace by agreement and a permanent reconciliation.”

Germany’s new chancellor, Dr. Michaelis, who had succeeded Bethmann-Hollweg a week before, vowed that he would never seek peace. “I do not consider that a body like the German Reichstag is a fit one to decide about peace and war on its own initiative during the war.” The Kaiser agreed, and remarkably visited Reichstag representatives to tell them in person. It was the first time the monarch had deigned to meet his representative government in two decades.

The Kaiser made a relentless speech calling for a “Second Punic War.” Once England, that modern Carthage, had been defeated, Germany would rise to its place in the sun. Wilhelm called attention to German’s recent great victory on the Eastern Front, but he made his biggest impact when he commented that “When my guards appear, there is no room for democracy.”