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Still can't believe Solmare is planning to terminate their games AGAIN

Or should I thank them for giving us two months

Anyway I hate you Solmare.

#ntt solmare #shall we date #wizardess heart #blood in roses #lost alice #and else

rosekiller is that one married couple that falls in love with someone together

#them falling in love with remus #and regulus #and else #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr #marauders #rosekiller #barty crouch junior #marauders era #evan rosier #barty x evan

me looking at stannis baratheon 99% of the time: i’m this picture and i dont like it

me looking at stannis baratheon 1% of the time: i’m this picture and i don’t particularly like it and our coping methods are unhealthy af but hey at least it means i can somewhat function it could be worse

#fellas is it healthy to go like okay i’m gonna absolutely detach from each single emotion i might be emoting #hell no #but considering the alternative it’s probably better #i’m already having my stomach being a mess of anxiety eating it up i don’t need it to proceed forward #could i be physically sick yes #is it happening tf it’s not #i’ll take that but good grief why can’t i just not feel like i have zero shit under control #and else #like would like to spend (1) week without feeling wholly inadequate for everything i do #anyway sorry is2g i’ll come back without being like this at some point soon

Letter for a friend

Whenever I think of you, I always tend to lead my mind toward an old forest full of light and noisy animals. It’s the forest you see in childhood movies about teenagers living in houses lost in the woods, this kind of place where you feel the loss of warm memories, of lost innocence and simple youth. It’s here that I find you.

I imagine a little house made of wood, up in a big old tree where squirrels and mouses squeak and leave nuts around. In this house, very simple with one room only, there is a bookshelf where we read our favorite books ; there is a carpet, ancient but well preserved, orned with intricate floral symbols where we could lay together ; there is a little desk where we draw the things we like and whenever we finish our work we show it to each other. Maybe we could even have a tea service. I would share my favorite herbs with you, the ones with either spice or dried flowers, leaves from my own garden. And when we’ll have tea on these lazy afternoons, laying on that dusty old carpet, I’ll know that your lips will taste what brought me peace for many years.

I love talking to you, whenever I come with my big and dark and clumsy hands, with my ink-dripping dress and my chaotic ghost hair. I am terrifying, I am sad, I made too many mistakes. But talking to you makes me feel pure again. With you I am the child that sees good in the world, I am the hopeful fool that thinks “I can do anything, I’ll love everything”, I no longer fear the uncertain future that kept me awake too many nights.

Like an ancient being, an elf, a wizard or a dragon, you like to talk. And these conversations are always filled with wisdom, not necessarily because you’re all wise but because it is genuine conversation, you want to talk and you want, as I do, something genuine to talk about. Because where you come from, where you live, you cannot have these conversations. They’re aren’t true and behind that neutral mask you wear, it drives you mad every day. As for me, I feel the need to heal the burns you had, burns identical to mine, I want to heal you through my words and presence without the need to bring out medicine and bandages. The latter could never have healed me, but I never heard the right words until very recently. And so I want to give you the same right words, those you've never heard, maybe even less than I, so you can begin to heal these scars in your heart and your dry eyes. Feeling old so young maybe is wisdom. I wish we could have become wise only as old people though.

Sometimes when we talk, you talk about your family and the love you've lost, and the dreams you keep dear in your heart, and the desire to leave that home, and the need to cleanse the past, and the want to be brave. In these moments, I imagine I respond to you with my deep and big eyes, with all the tenderest love I’m capable of. Oh, you feel so unsure, you think of yourself so badly, you think you’re a bad person. Then why I am with you ? I look at you and listen to your stories and your life, and believe me, brave friend, because you are indeed brave, I always listen to the ones that show empathy or vulnerability towards others. I know that where you live you have been taught that you were nothing, but it’s untrue and I’ll keep telling you that it is untrue. It is untrue.

When you’re about to cry because of that heavy pain you carry every day, I imagine caressing softly your face to wipe the tears away and bringing you in my arms, close to my heart. Oh, tired soldier, you were never a burden to me, neither in the future you’ll be. I’ll stroke your hair if you allow me, and let you grip my clothes to hold on. The blood of your soul needs to go out : you can cry.

And I’ll hold on too, I’ll say that everything’s alright, because as long as I live you’ll be okay, even if I’m far away, even if you cannot see me in days, even if you think that nothing is right. Leave these thoughts about these mindless and ignorant people, trying to steal more of your youth. Leave, whenever you can, these oh-so-good people that like to see others suffer. I love you. You deserve the clarity they took away from you, always had. I love you.

After calming down, I’ll offer you my best cup of tea and keep you close to me, or if you prefer I’ll leave you some space. If you want to talk again, I’ll be near. And I'll continue to listen like you listen to me. Always. Always.