WATCH: Somalia: 110 dead from hunger in 48 hours as region’s humanitarian crisis worsens.
The crisis in Somalia is unraveling as nearby war-ravaged Yemen teeters on the edge of famine, and in South Sudan, where famine is being used as a weapon of war. The UN says 1.4 million children in the region are at risk of dying from starvation.
Unfortunately, my amigos, we managed to come up with 100 prompts. Here’s part 1:
You’re a ghost haunting your own funeral. You see that nobody showed up.
What are these strangers doing in your house? You’re confused and angry, it’s been a week and it seems like they’re not leaving, they’re not even paying attention to you. You’re the ghost haunting your house without knowing it.
A single man and dog run the Iditarod only to show up with the medicine for his daughter too late. This is his story.
You fight for a noble cause. You complete all the necessary steps. You reach the top of the world doing good deeds to improve peoples lives. It’s your first day of retirement and you watch your hard work comes undone before your eyes.
“You can’t understand how it is to feel this worthless. I just want it all to go away! I want it all to STOP!”
Despite everything they did, everything they went through. It was made clear that their attempts were pointless, as they were too late to save them.
The only thing left for you to do was to leave forever
You didn’t visit your parent figure in hospital the day before they passed away because you wanted to finish your homework. Less than 24 hours later, you get a message from your sibling. “They passed away this morning.”
No matter how hard you try, they just laugh at you. You are a joke, a game, you don’t matter. You’ve had enough.
“Robert, you can’t just leave! There are fifty kids waiting for you! You promised you’d get us out alive. You told them so!” “No, darling, I promised I’d get us out alive. Us, being me and my 500 grand. Thanks for your help, by the way. Sorry about the boiled alive thing. Chao!”
Why did you leave me? It’s been 15 years. Why did you leave? I can’t just accept the fact that you showed up on my doorstep expecting an apology. I have a family now. And I can’t let you pull me into your problems.
Your school, company, or organisation has required you to go to therapy for a potentially traumatic incident. This is the session when you decide to tell the story of becoming estranged from your last living relative.
You can only watch the live news helplessly as, thousands of miles away, an tsunami happens in the country your best friend happens to be visiting
“My head is full of you but my arms are empty.”
Best Friends Forever", we used to say. But now we aren’t even talking anymore. When I see them anywhere, another person is by their side, a new best friend. And I, I am all alone.
Person A shares something that no one knew about them and it is very personal and then they get outcasted by their family and person B is the only one to support them as they cry.
The fire was pretty, swirling in shades of blue and green and purple, if you could ignore the fact it was destroying the planet.
A crying child in the hospital bed looks to you for answers. She wants to know where her mommy is. You have no answer.
“I cannot take it anymore, Sam. You don’t tell me anything, you’ve been disappearing for hours, you have phone calls you don’t want me to hear, and now you forgot our anniversary. I’m done being patient. I have packed my things, you can keep the car and the house. Goodbye.” A small box fell out of his fingers, and a ring with a diamond shining merrily on the band rolled away, as the phone stopped playing out the voicemail.
You unlock your phone, and, ignoring the shaking of your hand, answer the call. “Hey” you say, not even trying to compress the wound, too far gone as you already are, “no, i’m fine. I’ll be with you in a minute or two…”
I knew it would be there, I saved for this special occasion. It was my deserved reward after a shitty day and it was gone. The cupcake was gone.
it was finally summer, his favorite season. He sat up in his bed and told you all about what he did last year. He rode his bike everywhere, he played so many games with his friends, he swam in the town park pool… you were the doctor, and you had come in to bring his parents out of the room to talk to them about how the cancer had spread unexpectedly.
You’ve just had an unpleasant lunch with your family and one of your siblings has just told you that you’ve been horrible the entire meal. What now?
Your mom starts crying
you walk down the street and you see a familiar face. Your heart starts beating faster and you speed up, because Gosh, you haven’t seen them in the longest time, but then as you are about to reach them and scream their name, you suddenly stop because remember that it can’t be them because you’re now on the other side of the world, and you left the person you love far away….
It’s your grandfather’ funeral. The place is packed, he was loved by so many. Then, a small child puts a cup of coffee by his ashes.. (“Have this grandpa, it’s time to wake up”)
The person you love has to be killed in order to save other people. Their death guarantees the others’ safety and it is the right thing to do, and they want to do it, but you have to kill them. So you do.
you have the power to bring back the dead. You quickly realize that this comes with draw-backs since certain parts of them stay dead. someone close to you had an accident and this is the most difficult decision of your life.
the smallest coffins are the heaviest.
Her answer is to gently cup your face with trembling hands. Her smile is gentle and so, so sad. Her breathy whisper reaches your ears, “because love is watching someone die,” and shatters your world.
It had always been her. From the first day you saw her, you knew that she was the one, the one you wanted to spend your entire life with. Day by day, that future became a little more solid, a little more opaque. Until you watched it shrivel, collapse and die when strangers pulled a frail, familiar body out of the wreck.
you wake up to silence, except for the sound of quiet sobbing and a set of packed suitcases in the hall.
“I’m going to… take a nap… just for a minute. I’ll be… right back.” He lies down just where he sat. “Could you… hold my hand?”, he asks of her. She moves carefully around the table, as not to disrupt the game that they will certainly continue. He rests his head on her knees. “Are you there?”, he asks. “Yes, I’m here.” He holds her hand tighter. “Are you there?”, he asks, slowly his voice getting quieter and weaker….
You and your family were in a car crash. You think you’ve survived but in the hospital you found you’ve died and you watch your parents, your SO, your children and your friends mourn. You don’t leave earth. You remain there watching over your loved ones, but when they die, they don’t join you. You are by yourself forever.
Driving home, you hit something. Getting out, you realize it’s your pet who went missing a few months ago
Using the word ‘almost’ is the most melancholic way to describe an upsetting moment. She almost got there in time. He almost caught her. She almost told her. They almost made it.
You realise animals no longer acknowledge your existence. They can’t seem to see or hear you. Your best friend is your dog.
“I’ll never be perfect in my parents’ eyes no matter what I do.”
When you were 7, you were kidnapped when for 15 years. At the age of 22, you are finally rescued. Write about your time held in captivity and what it was like when you were saved.
Time and time again, the prompt guy refuses my Danny DeVito suggestions
“You’re the worst teacher I ever had, but I don’t want you to leave, because you were also the best, in a way.”
after always feeling like you were never wanted around, someone decided to tell you how you felt is exactly right. and now you have a fire in your heart you’ve decided to do something about it.
He was supposed to protect me. Instead he became the one I needed protection from.
“We’ll be finally be able to be together. Just one more year. Then we can finally be happy.” That was the last thing you said to your lover before going back off to war. Now you find yourself in an empty house, holding one last letter addressed to you and the memories of a lifetime of unfulfilled promises.
I’m not sure which was worse: keeping it a secret for so many years, or the look on my mom’s face when I told her.
you moved in a new town a few months ago. One of your friend tells you that he heard your best friend say “There’s no point staying in touch, we won’t see each other ever again.”
“I’m sorry sir, but we’re all out of chicken nuggets.”
You are a stray dog. Your master lost you 3 years ago. You go on an epic and heart-filled journey to find your master, not knowing that they are already dead.
It was the first time your parents said the word proud in relation to you, but you could just feel that was nothing more than a backhanded compliment. It only made you feel terrible.
After five years, they were finally back together. But time had torn them apart and as much as they tried, they were unable to love each other again.
The dark and dreary realisation finally hit you: You’re the one in the coffin. This is your funeral. All these people are upset and crying over you.
The war had been ravaging the country for years. You fought for your country, you shed your blood, you did your part. And yet a mistake is going to be your undoing. Write your last letter before your execution to a daughter you will never come back to.
Your siblings played a game with you, it was called “Who can ignore you the most”. But it’s okay, you knew they love you, because there was still food on the table, and bedtime was still shared in the same room. It’s been years, you’re in the worst time of your life now, and you feel the need to reach out for help. You hope the game is over by now.
You’ve been messaging someone online for years now, chatting with them about this and that every so often. They stopped logging on a month ago. You have no way of knowing if they’re okay, and can only watch and wait for a reply.
You read a late familiar’s diary from decades ago. You knew nothing about them before this moment.Their insight in life is what you need to solve your problems, and your insight could have helped save their life.
“I am so tired.” She whispered to him, inches away from jumping of that bridge.
Every time your father leaves for work, you wonder if he’s going to die. You make sure to say “i love you” every day before he goes, but one day you forget…
you’re the last member of your species, your culture, your language. Scientists are around you, waiting for every bit that you can share, for them to document. They don’t care about you. Although you’re surrounded by people, you’re alone.
your idol, a vegetarian, was forcefully fed a hotdog
Write about the small and big sacrifices mothers make for their children.
You are trapped in a “coma” can hear everything around you, including friends and family coming to say goodbye before your life-support is taken away due to lack of insurance. They can’t prove you aren’t brain dead. You can’t say goodbye back.
“The monsters won’t come and hurt me will they daddy?” “As long as I’m around,” he said, giving you a goodnight kiss. “No one will ever hurt you.” “You’ll come home right? Promise?” “I Promise.” But he failed to keep his promise. He never came home and the monsters got you after all.
Tell the story of someone who goes about daily life, well, tries to anyway. It’s hard for them because they had severe depression. Tell of their struggles and trials. But also tell of their successes.
For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn.
you’re the last person in the world and you just lost hope for finding anyone else
You went on a great quest with your friends. You slayed monsters together, fended off enemies, and overcame all challenges that came your way. However, your friends perished at the final boss. You’ve just defeated him, and the reality is sinking in.
You are the new Death. The torch has been passed down to you for reasons you don’t know. It is now your job to take the lives of those whose time is up, old or young. Are you prepared to do it? And why were you chosen?
You have become immortal through a game that destroyed your universe. You and and your friends recreated the universe. You remember, they do not. The big bad from the game haunts your dreams.
You wake up and smell something burning. You think someone is making breakfast. You get up to see your house is on fire and you’re the only survivor.
As the crowd around you cheers for your brother’s assassin, you hold him in your arms as you watch his life fade. He was the most hated man in the world, a brutal dictator, a tyrant worse than your father ever was. He was the very kind of man who you hated yourself. Yet you’re crying, looking down upon his smiling face as he watches the crowd and his killer in his final moments, because in the end this was what he promised you. He promised to make a world where no one would have to fight anymore, where there can be peace. And now that the most hated man is dead, there can be.
After a long fulfilling life, you find yourself in the past, at the lowest point of your life. Your family is gone, your friends don’t know who you are, and you’re left with nothing. What do you do?
there’s no pizza in the fridge
You love children and plan to have some one day, until you find out at a doctors appointment that you are infertile…
It’s the effort that counts but it’s the result that’s remembered. Write a story about someone who spent years devoted to their passion but their efforts remain unrecognised, unappreciated because they were ultimately unsuccessful, even after death.
“…you never really loved me, did you.” and the silence said it all
you are a dog going into the vet. You have no idea why your owner is crying. You have no idea that it’s your last visit.
Your parents just told you that they’re getting a divorce.
Your best friend/SO has wronged the gods and has 24 hours to live. You can trade your life for theirs by putting your essence by the mercy of the gods. What do you do?
he spat angrily as he raised what remained of his son “I NEVER LOVED YOU”
write a story where you build up to one character’s death. In the end, that character survives, but another character dies instead.
You are a time traveler, but you never knew it. The only time you successfully did it was when you were a baby, and you’ve grown up a long time away from your original life. One day, you find a shrine… Dedicated to you, by your original family.
You sat across from them at the table, and realized that you had both run out of things to say to each other.
Write a story about an adventurous character who somehow survives all the trouble they get into. These are the memories of an old person, as they remember what they did, with a week of less left before their last breath.
Everyone else had moved on further. You have missed your opportunity to move along with them, and you are the only one left behind in the gray lands. All because of your most annoying habit
“But I rescued you from-” “You killed the dragon! You killed my best friend!”
When you were little, you lost your parents in a house fire. Now, you’ve found out that you have the power to control fire, and are starting to suspect that the fire that killed your parents wasn’t a cooking accident after all..
You spent the past 10 minutes walking back and forth from the lobby to the dance floor in search of them, worrying your ass off. They finally decide to come out and they curse at you for ruining their night.
It was horrible, a pain unbearable to you, the feeling of your soulmate breaking down. The person you once loved, now shattered and scarred from trauma. The worst of part of it, you were helpless. All you could do was sit and watch, but you’d get your revenge. On Death himself.
Your maths teacher gives you a school detention despite the fact that you are 110% innocent of everything you’ve been accused of. You are forced to stare at a wall for half an hour in silence to think about ‘what you’ve done.’ What happens now?
You confess to your parents about your depression and suicidal thoughts, but they just shrug it off as you being over dramatic. Months later and the sight of your parents still hurts you deep inside, because they never understood you.
You’re in love with your coworker, who’s married and has two kids. He’s quitting job today. He tells you that he loves you.
You’re in a room full of onions.
You’re just about to start your period and you’ve been craving Chinese food all week. You finally get said Chinese food, get home, pull it out of the bag and drop it. You start scream-crying, and your family runs into the room to check on you. What happens next?
Your daughter has been bullied ever since she’s started school due to the fact that you aren’t the richest of families in a pretty nice neighborhood. When she begs you to buy her a doll everybody likes, you know you won’t be able to afford it.
You hide in your room and clutch a pillow, listening to the abusive language your family members through at each other. You hear your youngest sibling being physically abused again, and his screams echo throughout the house.
“We found cancerous tissue. I’m sorry.” “What a way to start my first day of college.” (comment: this actually happened to me, I was diagnosed with cancer my first day of college)
An old man is on his death bed, riddled with dementia. Volunteering for the elderly with no family left, you visit, but he mistakes you for son or daughter.
I looked in the mirror and realized who was staring back. It was someone I wasn’t content with.
Write a story through the perspective of an abused cat on their 9th life.
Tell a story about a person who never appears in photographs because they were always behind the camera, looking wistfully at everyone’s smiling faces. It is only after they’re long gone that someone finally notices. Old memories are brought up.
Aries mercury ~ the mind of mars learns through visualization; it is through action and motion that the senses are stimulated. mental explosions; ideas are immediately verbalized and the head is afflicted with pains from sensitivity and reactivity to the immediate environment; in extremity, this is war ravaging through the mental faculties. communicative abilities are direct, genuine, inventive, passionate, witty and immediate reactions are set-off in the light of the ego. a pioneering mind venturing onward inspirationally, pointing towards new beginnings
Taurus mercury ~ tree roots wrapped around the brain sprouting into blossoms; shows a grounded, firm, unchangeable, traditional, but obstinate mind like that of roots but also an artistic, poetic, youthful and musical kind of old soul like that of the angelic Venusian blossoms, that learns best through the worldly senses of taste, sight, touch, smell, and hearing, savoring life experiences with underlying nostalgia.
Gemini mercury (☿) ~ thoughts and words come and go breathlessly and as fleetingly as rapid heartbeats, matching the swift fluttering of butterfly wings and the quick godly travel of hermes. the mind is keen, curious, clever, intellectual, versatile and overly alert causing restlessness and inconsistency. The speech and approach to others is friendly, animated, humorous and lively, and the transmission of messages from this position reflects a mind driven by logic rather than intuition as well as an urgency for connectivity and an endless quest for learning. childlike wisdom rests here, where there is always a critical questioning of “why” and a constant activation of creative cerebral surges.
Cancer mercury ~ the mind is receptive, nocturnal, emotional, reflective, and is working through an instinctually subconscious level that reacts with immediate feelings. Reality is distorted in magical moonlight, casting nostalgia, moodiness, and nighttime paranoia but gifts the mind with imagination, mother’s comforting soul words and a psychic sense. the lunar mind learns well through absorbing and listening to others. the memories are coated with wistful and bittersweet emotions that come alive with every instant experience.
Leo mercury ~ the heart is intertwined with the brain, making the words true, lively, loving and passionate. solar flares endow the speech with golden words and the mind with creativity and a vivid perception of reality. The sun seldom has a shadow, yet it certainly does cast one; although this position is prone to being domineering, willful, and self-concerned, the solar spirit is proud, dignified, free-spirited, warm, idealistic and glistening with theatrical displays of creative radiance.
~ the cerebral nerves become focused in this earthy domain, yet there is an nervousness over detail; the eyes are equivalent to magnifying glasses that see what another doesn’t. The trickster nature of mercurial hermes burdens this position with repetitiveness, nitpick, fret and hypersensitivity yet blesses the mind with a thought trend that is cleverly witty, practical, alert, investigative, intellectual, systematic and analytical. The maiden’s voice is kissed with medicinal messages, where healing powers drip from their words and into another’s broken soul lining. The communication is swift and sharp yet shy and timid at first and the native learns well in any given environment if the concentration isn’t imposed with anxiety tugging at the nerves.
Libra mercury- the grasping of reality mimics the justice of the scales; there is an ability to detach oneself from emotional undertones, an internal urge to defend the weak-willed, and an ability to calculate the world through several perspectives. The judgment is clear, diplomatic, impartial and the mind is buzzing with dreamy idealism, aesthetic sense, and able to synthesize oppositions and disputes to middle ground if vacillation is overcome. Makes for a charming and witty chatterer, spilling Venusian sweet song for others to hear.
Scorpio mercury ~ the mind is powerful, sharp, and perceptive of all things unknown working as the master psychologist of the soul. thought course is intensely secretive, willful, intrigued, suspicious, fiercely acute, obsessive, over critical and possesses an intelligent sixth sense. holds unyielding convictions and uses interrogations and investigation to pierce through boundaries and delve into the matters of the psychological, metaphysical, occult and esoteric research.
Sagittarius mercury ~ the spirit has direct contact to the Superconscious through cosmic wisdom, treading through the waters of the universe on a dreamy pilgrimage, the mind filled with shooting stars. The currents of thinking and communication are expansive, moral, skeptical, insightful, inspiring and knowledgeable. The mind is often directionless, impatient and disconnected from the world but sincere, honest and filled with infinite understanding.
Capricorn mercury ~ the messages of hermes are filtered through the child of time where one is reticent in sharing ancient knowledge held firmly in the mind. Saturn weighs heavy upon the perception causing one inclined to intolerance, criticism of the self and others, and sullen sternness as well as an unwilling awareness of one’s own mortality, anxieties and fears. and yet through Saturn the fashion of thought becomes methodical, efficient, logical, disciplined, dignified, concentrative and ultimately crystallized, where the seagoat’s unrest becomes definite and clear from reaching the mountain tops, in due course spawning entry into the sky and beyond.
Aquarius mercury ~ the mind proves to be on a futuristic wavelength where one thinks outside the box, through the box, behind the box, between the box and so forth. There is a inclination to progressive societal matters, making the character good-natured, equal and universal. Uranian electrical currents presents the mind with surges of innovative concepts, intelligent comprehension, brilliant analysis, quick thinking, witty remark, and resourceful intuition yet may destabilize the mind with the spirit of the mad scientist, where ideas and perception are incomprehensible, offensively shocking, temperamental, fleeting and willfully intuned with one’s own perception as opposed to others.
Pisces mercury ~ perception of reality is seen through a dewy gaze beneath the sea’s surface, where the thought shift is molded into a beautiful mist of imagination, empathy, sensitivity, psychic receptivity, and adaptability of environment. The way of speech is poetical, wistful, and mysterious yet conversely, it is paranoid, misunderstood, vague and unclear. Reasoning abilities are not strong here as the mind works through the emotions and extreme instinctual receptors. Neptunian waters can fill the mind with wakeful dreams where one is inclined to escape into the subconscious womb and yet also creates a visionary trend, where one is inclined to hopefulness, compassion and unlocking healing powers.
In taking another look at the story Nishiki tells about the original OEK’s revolution, I noticed some discrepancies in the story we have been given up until now, so I figured I’d try to reconstruct the timeline here.
According to the CCG, and so one assumes, the official record, the CCG was founded by Daikichi Washuu around 1890.
This matches up with what Eto says, about the original OEK being the reason the CCG was founded over 100 years ago.
Nishiki’s telling seems at first to match Eto’s:
but there are a few strange details that don’t quite add up.
Nishiki seems to place this about two generations back and mentions humans being ravaged by war at the time, seeming to imply a post-WWII timeline.
But assuming the history of the Tokyo Ghoul universe is the same as ours (plus ghouls), and assuming Nishiki was just being overly simplistic with his two generation time marker, the original 1890 founding date gives us the Bakumatsu period and the internal Japanese wars that went along with the beginning of the Meiji restoration. The creation of a central anti-ghoul corporation by the Washuu at this time would have been right in line with The Meiji restoration’s modernization, formalization and centralization of industry and state, regardless of any revolutionary ghoul running around, so it’s an easy thing for the official CCG narrative to omit.
But Nishiki’s telling actually seems to imply a second revolution after the CCG was already founded, taking advantage of the post WWII chaos. A second OEG and a second rebellion, this time leading to the formation of V, as separate from the founding of the CCG. Such an event would lend some credence to Eto’s claim that One Eyed Ghouls have historically been a sign of change, if this had happened twice before, not just the once.
A post WWII timeline makes more sense for the construction of the 24th ward, as well - considering the total chaos and massive rebuilding efforts, as well as more advanced technology at the time.
It also implies some 55 years of a Washuu led CCG without the existence of V, or at the very least, a shift in the functionality of the behind the scenes group.
It also seems to imply a significant increase in CCG extermination efforts around that time, an echo of Nishiki’s observation that the current CCG under Furuta is making the previous efforts of the CCG look like a joke, something which Furuta also mentions on his side of things. The Washuu were staying their hand.
History does tend to repeat itself.
I expect we are due for a more explicit history lesson on the Washuu and V soon, but a second revolution only some 70-odd years in the past certainly strengthens the possibility that the leader of that rebellion is still alive down deep in the 24th, somehow.
“Long time ago, when time was new
and all of history was still a dream, the gods ruled the Earth, Zeus king among
them. Zeus created beings over which the gods will rule. Beings born in his
image fair and good, strong and passionate. He called his creation “man”, and
mankind was good. But Zeus’ son grew envious of mankind and sought to corrupt
his father’s creation. This was Ares, the god of war. Ares poisoned man’s
hearts with jealousy and suspicion. He turned them against one another and war
ravaged the Earth. So, the gods created us, the Amazons to influence men’s heart
with love and restore peace to Earth. And for a brief time, there was peace. But
it did not last. Your mother, the Amazon Queen, led a revolt that freed us all
from enslavement. When Zeus led the gods to our defense, Ares killed them one
by one until only Zeus himself remains. Zeus used the last of his power to stop
Ares, striking such a blow, the god of war was forced to retreat. But Zeus knew
that one day Ares might return to finish his mission. An endless war where
mankind would finally destroy themselves and us with them. So Zeus left us a
weapon, one powerful enough to kill a god. With his dying breath, Zeus created
this island to hide us from the outside world, somewhere Ares could not find
us.” - Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons
I can't see the connection between the violent/insane Voldemort we see in HP and the one who, when at Hogwarts, could be seen as a good child [fooling even Ravenclaw].Of course he hadthe hatred in him, but I think before his downfall he had more control over himself and was probably much nicer to his DEs, in a way that made them truly admire their Lord. I think a lot of DEs got tired of his Potter obsession and even Voldemort himself in the end. What do you think about it and how it was for Sev?
I find Lord Voldemort one of the most frustrating characters in literature.
…because the presentation of him in canon is boring. He’s your basic villain whose egotism is his downfall, and who rules solely by power and domination. It’s hard to understand why anyone would’ve chosen to follow him, and by the second war, it’s clear that everyone falls into line solely out of fear.
I don’t care about Lord Voldemort and his flat nose and red eyes; I want to read about Tom Riddle, the powerless boy in the orphanage who learns that he’s got a talent and uses it in terrible ways to manipulate others.
I want to read about Tom Riddle, the boy who lived in Muggle London in the midst of the Blitz, who is terrified to go home and wants to stay at Hogwarts during the summer.
I want to read about Tom Riddle, the boy whose mother died. The boy who watched London be ruined by a Muggle war, ravaged by death and destruction. The boy who consequently feared death, and his quest to become immortal.
I want to read about Tom Riddle, and his life in Slytherin, and his life under Slughorn. I want to read about a boy who was once maligned who then discovers he’s a descendant of Slytherin, and becomes king of his house. I want to read about a boy who learns to stand with the purebloods, and manipulates them in the same way he did his fellow orphans.
I want to read about a Tom who inspires others. I want to read about a Tom who becomes powerful, and wealthy, and magnificent - and how others fall in line behind him. I want to hear his rousing speeches, and I want to see what seduced the likes of Lucius - Lucius - into crawling across the floor and kissing his robes.
I want to see how Tom cajoles and coerces, celebrates and rewards, punishes and admonishes. I want to see why so many were held in his thrall. Not just the Death Eaters, but the likes of the Black parents - those who initially agreed with what he said, but later didn’t agree with his methods.
We don’t get any of that.
All we get is a powerful but angry villain, who has one goal, and despite having a wealth of magical minions at his disposal, is terrible at achieving it. To me, his actions don’t particularly make sense. I know that can be explained away by the Horcruxes damaging his sanity…but it’s an unsatisfying narrative.
I don't know if you take fic requests but I love your writing so if you do, can you please write Cassian and Jyn in an established relationship where Cassian just casually sometimes slips into Space Spanish around Jyn? :)
Anon, I am almost positive this is not what you had in mind. And yet, this is what happened! Featuring the most functional version of them I’ve ever written, plus more bedsharing because I can’t be stopped.
Some nights as she lays in Cassian’s bed, about to be pulled under by the riptide of sleep, she hears his voice—soft, lilting—at the edge of her consciousness in a language she does not understand.
It sounds like poetry, the gentle cadence, like words made for different worlds than this one so ravaged by war. She lets the rhythm of it carry her under, into pastel dreams of peaceful, quiet places.
One night, after a mission that almost turned fatal more times than the human heart should have to bear, she finds that sleep eludes her. She presses her face to his neck, listens to the steady murmurs against her ear.
“I wish I could understand,” she whispers, then immediately wishes she hadn’t; perhaps these words aren’t meant for her. “Not that—you don’t have to explain.”
His hand drifts down her back, tenderly tracing the curve of her spine. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.
“I am reminding myself,” he says, “of the things I have to be thankful for.”
She shifts against him, wriggling closer; his skin is soft beneath her fingertips.
“Like what?” she asks.
“That we did not die today. That we are still in this fight. You.”
Warmth spreads through her chest, curls around her fingertips.
He whispers something she cannot understand. Then he bends his neck, brushing his lips against her forehead.
“Always, always you.”
Something bubbles up in her chest, some bright, fantastic feeling she can’t find the words for. It strikes her as unfair that he can express in two languages what she can’t even manage to say in one. All she can do is press a kiss his throat, just beneath the scratch of his beard.
His hand traces back up her spine to tangle in her hair, and she can feel him smile against her skin.
“I know,” he murmurs, even though she hasn’t said a word. “I know.”
the mind of mars learns through visualization, it is through action and motion that the senses are stimulated. mental explosions; ideas are immediately verbalized and the head is afflicted with pains from sensitivity and reactivity to the immediate environment; in extremity, this is war ravaging through the mental faculties. communicative abilities are direct, genuine, inventive, passionate, witty and immediate reactions are set-off in the light of the ego. a pioneering mind venturing onward inspirationally, pointing towards new beginnings
the heart is intertwined with the brain, making the words true, lively, loving and passionate. solar flares endow the speech with golden words and the mind with creativity and a vivid perception of reality. The sun seldom has a shadow, yet it certainly does cast one; although this position is prone to being domineering, willful, and self-concerned, the solar spirit is proud, dignified, free-spirited, warm, idealistic and glistening with theatrical displays of creative radiance.
the spirit has direct contact to the Superconscious through cosmic wisdom, treading through the waters of the universe on a dreamy pilgrimage, the mind filled with shooting stars. The currents of thinking and communication are expansive, moral, skeptical, insightful, inspiring and knowledgeable. The mind is often directionless, impatient and disconnected from the world but sincere, honest and filled with infinite understanding.
I have read your works! And I love 'The Stars Incline us, they don't bind us' so muuuuuch. If this is not too much to ask, can you make cherik fic rec? Thank you! Keep writing, awesome!
thank you very much, i’m glad you enjoyed my stuff! :3
since this blog is exactly 5 years old today, what better occasion is there to do cherik fic rec post, as lurking around cherik fic rec tumblr posts waaay back in the day is actually what originally brought me to tumblr in the first place. the following list is in no particular order, and odds are i like multiple fics by the authors included but i was determined to limit myself to one from each (though in some cases, this was a veeeery close call, haha).
anyway, the actual title of this list is coincidentally the main criteria i used in the interest of not having it stretch on for miles, which is to say:
Cherik Fics Pan Has Reread An Embarrassing Amount Of Times Throughout Her XMFC Fandom Tenure:
((A/N: Here it is! Marvel/Avengers Greek Pantheon AU! I so hope you guys like it. It’s starting slow, so I’m sorry, but I do promise if you can stick with it, it gets better. I’m also pretty sleep deprived, so if it’s bad I’m sorry.
Summary: There is war in the Pantheon. The people of Greece and the worlds beyond are suffering in chaos. The one who is believed may change this, is you. It is up to you to climb Mt. Olympus and to speak with the gods, demand in whatever way you can that the destruction below stop.
But things are never that simple, and soon you find that there is more going on than meets the idea. With no warning you are thrust into a world of gods, monsters, and so much more. You must go head to head with those you have worshiped and decide how you may save your people. And above all… why you?”
Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Ares) x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Thunder boomed above your head as clouds darkened, the simple black sandals on your feet carrying you as fast as could be managed as you ran home. This would be the third storm this month, and the month itself was only half-over. For the time of year it was uncommon to have such chaos thrust into your world. Which would be fine, except your city was still reeling from the earthquake that toppled Ares’ temple. Those who weren’t picking up their homes or burying loved ones had taken to the temples, desperately making offerings and repairing statues.
It’s not a lie that James Buchanan Barnes has lost. Maybe, it comes easy to him…more so than to others. But it’s a simple glance at his face that tells a different tale.
There’s a sadness in his cobalt eyes. It’s a sadness akin to that of a lost toy in the ravages of war. It’s a terribly nostalgic reminder of the demons that tear at the walls he’s built around himself, for his own safety.
And the dullness of them as he awakens from yet another nightmare? It’s similar, too similar to that of a child’s fading smile.
Maybe it’s the emotion that he imprisons within himself that make him a storm. One hovering just out of view, ready to strike before you’re able to find a shelter that will hold.
But there are days where the skies aren’t as dark. Thunder not as loud. Lightning not as jarring.
There are days when the sun does shine. There are days when there’s a light in those cloudy eyes of his. There are days when James Buchanan Barnes does smile.
It’s imperfect, his smile. All crooked teeth and crinkled eyes. But it’s beautiful.
The sun does shine through the clouds. And it’s these days that he finds himself almost unable not to smile.
Perhaps it’s the way that you stumble, struggling to keep pace with his steps that brings that sunlit bow to life on his lips, or perhaps it’s the way that your hands tighten on his, a threat of “If I fall, I’m bringing you down with me” that makes him laugh.
Sure, it’s been years since his feet have traced the same path of the dance. It’s been years since he’s been able to trust himself enough to touch you, hell, hold you with the metal weapon that he calls an arm.
He finds himself forcing his thoughts away from the horrors that await him. Focus.
And yeah, he’s focusing. On the playful swears leaving you lips, your foot bumping into his for the fifth time in ten fucking minutes. He’s focusing on the soft huffs of frustration, the feel of your hand tightening around his as you struggle to keep your balance. He’s focusing and he’s so damned engrossed.
“Would it help if you stood on my feet?” The question is one that catches you completely off guard because-
Fuck, are you really that bad at dancing?
Your reply leaves your lips quicker than intended, “Buck, maybe you should find yourself a new dance partner.”
His refusal is immediate, “Someone new isn’t you.” And the words, they bring a smile to your lips. The brightness of it is all the confirmation that he needs that for once, he’s doing something right.
He’s pretty damned proud because the dark clouds overhead are scattering. And the sun is shining.
You’re still hesitant in your movements as you step onto his feet, trying to balance yourself, his arm wrapping immediately around your waist to pull you flush against his body, causing more laughter to spill from your lips.
He begins slowly, smiling down at you as he navigates around the kitchen, the silence of the twinkling stars the only music necessary.
In the moonlight, the darkness of James Buchanan Barnes’s eyes fades, nothing but his imperfectly perfect smile remaining on his lips. And it’s bright. And beautiful. And happy.
Storms do, after all, leave clear skies to marvel at.
I wanted to do something for the upcoming holiday. I haven’t made a rec list for awhile, so here is a list of some really wonderful fics. This is a wide variety, so hopefully everyone will find something to enjoy. I went back through my last three months of reading, so they should all be fairly new. Enjoy. <3
Derek is a simple horseman from the mountains, Stiles is an enthusiastic university graduate ready to make a name for himself. In any other situation, they would have gone their entire lives never having met. It’s probably a good thing then, that they both happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
Stiles loves A Fox’s Tale, a bookstore he took over after his mom dies. Unfortunately, a box store, Hale’s Wolftastic Books, is moving town and is going to be tough competition, but he has his friends, family, and texting buddy, Mr. Grumpy to help him through it.
Derek is annoyed to be moving to Beacon Hills to help start up the newest branch of Hale’s Wolftastic Books and to help Laura prepare for her upcoming wedding. He’s surprised to find himself falling in love with the town, and it’s inhabitants. If only his texting conversations with Smartass weren’t emotionally confusing.
Years ago, when they were first starting out both in their relationship and their careers, when they were babies and hardly understood their car insurance let alone the multi-billion dollar, all-consuming, world-encompassing, life-altering business of news reporting—back then, Derek would practice his expressions in the mirror, and Stiles would think, I’m so glad he’ll never have to use that face with me.
And then Stiles screwed up, and he’s seen nothing but that face for the past two years. Aesthetically, it’s still an awesome face, and it probably always will be, but Derek is so much more than another hot dude. And he always will be.
Stiles has been fucking obsessed with famous werewolf author Derek Hale since he was fifteen years old and the first book came out. Like, embarrassingly obsessed. Like, had a poster of the guy hanging up on the wall above his bed, obsessed. When Hale moved back to Beacon Hills, Stiles just figured he’d hole himself up in his rebuilt mansion, writing his fourth book, never to fulfill Stiles’ endless daydreams about running into him and having the alpha fall madly in love with him.
It’s completely fucking improbable and nonsensical, would never happen in a million years, so of course Stiles somehow winds up in a no-strings-attached agreement with his literary idol, all while eating chicken McNuggets out of his pocket at random intervals and plotting the demise of the McFlurry mixer.
“And Stiles,” he’s addressed directly for the first time since this whole thing started, and when all eyes land on him this time, he just squeezes Derek’s hand and squares his shoulders. He can act like this doesn’t bother him. Derek can do it, and Derek’s here. He’ll be okay. “…how does it feel to know that millions upon millions of people are going to read intimate, private details about your life with Derek?”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Stiles says with a shrug, going for nonchalant and feeling like he’s doing it pretty well. “I knew what I was getting into. Besides – everyone wants Derek Hale to write about them, right?”
It isn’t fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there’s a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.
All Derek wants is one day where he can sleep without worry of being woken by gunfire, without the threat of death hanging over his head. He wants a full stomach and no pain clinging to his bones, no ache in his feet from months of running. He wants a shower, a safe place to put his head. He wants his family, the healing comfort of pack. He’ll never have any of that again.
War is hell. Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski. But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek’s gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.
Yeah, that was pretty bad, but what was worse was having spent the last three years pretending to hate Stiles, because it was better than being the guy who failed at emotions and got rejected for them, and now Derek was locked in the same room as him under the promise they would only be let out when they “did something about their sexual tension”.
Derek and Stiles get locked in a room together at an office Christmas party and end doing something about all that unresolved sexual tension.
And Derek just stood there, staring at Stiles like he was a ghost.
“Dude, I know it’s been a while but you don’t have to look at me like you’re that surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically a tradition at this point.”
“Stiles?” Derek whispered, the name falling from his lips like a punch to the gut. Stiles watched, confused, as Derek took a deep breath in and took a shaky step forward then back again. “You’re not- you can’t be. Who are you?”
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
Ten years ago, there was a major war between the supernatural world and the mundane. Now Beacon Hills is cut off and the Argents are in control, and the supernatural creatures are slowly being hunted down. But when Stiles, who was adopted by the Argents after the death of his parents, makes friends with the Hale Pack, things start to change…
Twenty-eight year old federal agent Derek Hale has been out of the family for some time, and he likes it that way. After six years of no contact with Laura, everything changes when Derek is sent back to Beacon Hills to infiltrate his old family.
And that’s how Derek meets Stiles.
Stiles is Peter’s favorite dancer. He’s Peter’s arm candy. He’s his little trophy to flaunt. The son of the one man who almost put Peter away–a cautionary tale for people to heed when thinking about going against Peter. Everyone knows the Sheriff is still in the hospital, his wife in a grave, his son in the devil’s den.
Derek doesn’t buy into it for a second. There is a way Stiles looks at Peter, like he’s the scum of the earth–like he’s a piece of gum stuck on his shoe that he can’t wait to scrape off. There is the way Stiles only lets Peter touch him for so long before he pulls away.
Derek knows that Stiles is there for ulterior motives, but Stiles is smarter than he looks. He’s more determined. If only Derek could get Stiles on his side.
Scott McCall, “Stiles” Stilinski, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, and Jackson Whittemore are the hot-shot pilots of the USAAF’s Flight Five, based out of southern England in the end of 1943. The tide is maybe starting to turn in the war, but there’s still so many battles left to fight, so many bombs to drop, so many missions to run.
Up-and-coming young photographer Derek Hale of Life Magazine is sent out to do his first war coverage: interviews with and photographs of the brave young men of Alpha Squadron, Flight Five. It’s supposed to be an easy assignment- snap some photos of the boys and their planes, and go home.
But when you’re in the heat of the moment, when you’re faced with life and death, who’s got your back? Who is in that moment with you? When you start to ask that question, it’s after that when nothing is easy again.
Derek is trying (and failing) to juggle his career, coach lacrosse, and raise his 5 year old werewolf daughter. When he adds his bitter ex-wife and his daughter’sslight attachment to him, Derek knows he doesn’t have any time for a life of his own - and definitely no time for the super cute daycare teacher.
When Derek left Beacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe, how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up at his door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face, but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at the raw strength of his embrace.
“You asshole,” Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, his voice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder to find, could you?”
Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.
“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.
Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.
Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn’t seem to care that Derek’s a prince or that he’s a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it’s not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.
So, i don’t know if people really realize this but D.Va’s official bio states that “Twenty years ago, South Korea was attacked by a colossal omnic monstrosity that rose from the depths of the East China Sea.”
Twenty years ago.
Which means Hana’s home has been war-torn and ravaged by this colossal omnic for her entire life. She has not known a South Korea that wasn’t in pieces, although she’s seen it in photographs. That wasn’t fighting to keep afloat. That wasn’t falling apart beneath all of the neon, skyscrapers, pop culture, gaming, and all of that. Since before she was even born this colossal omnic has been taking and taking and destroying.
“The Commonwealth itself is nothing but a war-ravaged quagmire of violence and despair. Inside the sealed environment of the Institute, however… but the Institute’s affairs are none of your concern. Your undeveloped mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend what we’ve accomplished.” - Dr. Zimmer
Here we are. A list in no particular order. Well, in word count order actually. But not in, like, favorite order or whatever. You know what I mean. Also check out our ABO tag for all your Alpha!Derek and Omega!Stiles needs. - Anastasia
(Complete I 3,687 I Sterek I Explicit I Mpreg, Glory Holes)
Stiles, an omega, wants children desperately, and he will go to any length to achieve his dream. He decided a glory hole was the perfect answer for his desires. All he wanted was for an alpha to impregnate him, nothing more.
(Complete I 6,616 I Teen I Sterek I Growing Up Together AU)
Derek is still trying to figure out what to do about this when a woman’s frantic voice comes down the aisle. “Baby, baby, baby—no kick. I’m so sorry. It’s a thing lately.” She waggles a finger at her son. “We don’t kick.”
It’s a popular joke among Alphas: fuck an Omega, get heartbreak on your hands. Omegas are fragile little emotional things, needy and whiny. Stiles refuses to become that, or to believe that he’sanything like that.
Stiles and Derek have been fuckbuddies for a while when Derek loses his memories of the past three years - and them - in an accident. (Also - everyone’s a werewolf, and everyone’s alive.)
(Complete I 25,370 I Explicit I Sterek I Alternate Universe)
There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.
All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.
(Complete I 39,114 I Explicit I Sterek I Past Mpreg)
The rules. Stiles knows them well. Has them drilled into his head, repeats them to alphas and betas that conveniently are too drunk to remember them on their own, hears Peter shout them out whenever a rule gets broken, reminding the entire bar that they exist and are (generally) enforced.
(7/7 I 70,140 I Explicit I Sterek, Scallison, Jydia, Stydia, Danny/Jackson I Dystopia AU)
AU. Alphas are like royalty and are offered their choice of any age eighteen-and-up virgin Omega for each year’s heat season, as a ‘thank-you’ to all they’ve done for their compounds throughout the year. Derek is an Alpha and…yeah, Stiles. Stiles is an Omega. And still a virgin. In every way. And he’s just turned eighteen. This…is not his day.
“You’re not putting that up your butt,” Scott told him flatly and Stiles couldn’t stop the pissed off whine he made, but his friend continued. “Stiles, you can’t put that up your butt, you know that. Your butt won’t be ready for anything to go in it until-”
“Okay, okay!” he said, flailing his hands to stop his friend’s lecture. “Message received, no butt stuff until I’m pounced on by some freaking animal in the forest and ravished to within an inch of my life. Got it. Thanks, Scotty, I mean heaven forbid I actually try to take control of my life and give myself a fighting chance or anything.”
“Not all alphas are animals,” Scott said quietly.
Maybe he was right, but Stiles wasn’t holding his breath.
(19/19 I 111,412 I Explicit I Sterek, Scisaac I War AU, Mpreg)
War is hell.
Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski.
But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek’s gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.
(14/14 I 116,637 I Explicit I Sterek, Scallison, Jackson/Danny I DubCon)
Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.
Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.
(11/11 I 126,412 i Explicit I Sterek, Scira, Cora/Lydia, Jennifer/Derek I Werewolves Are Known)
“Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”
But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.
“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!”