#(I know that’s probably not true but the dude speaks to my soul and I’ll often be reading a sermon and it takes a turn and starts

[awfullybigwardrobe44]

I’ve been going through and reading sermons from Spurgeon. I found a website that has hundreds of them and I just stuck them all in a Google doc and highlighted the titles I felt interested me.

But I finally read his wiki biography tonight.

Was anyone going to tell me that I was reading the sermons of a 20-21 year old or was I supposed to figure that out myself 😂

[calp0sa]

what do you like and dislike about airy?

CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD

well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)

i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being

“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”

>”WE CANT DIE?”

“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”

he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

[luaspersona]

hey y’all, how have you been?

i know it’s been a while, and i know i promised a fic that was supposed to be posted earlier this month and that it’s been some time since i dropped a review. but a lot of stuff happened and i realized that i needed some time off. during that time, i reflected a lot and considered not returning, maybe only posting the seoul town road story and going offline for good. eventually tho, i understood how much i missed reading and how much i couldn’t really stop coming up with ideas and outlining some stories — i like this and for the most part, it makes me really happy.

but i wanted to talk a bit about the stuff that made me second-thought coming back. i wanted to be open about stuff that’s depressing and demotivating in this community, especially because i’ll change a lot of things about how i interact here.

this will be a long text, but it’s really important if you follow me. i wanna make it clear tho, before anything, that i’m speaking for myself here, and myself only.

⇢ the first thing i wanna say is that i’ll be generally less active. i used to think that in order to become a popular blog or whatever i had to be chronically online, posting all the time and all. after giving it some thought, i can't really tell if that's true or not, but the thing is: i don’t have the mental health for it. so i won't push myself. but also, if you write something and want me to read it, please send it to me! shamelessly and guiltlessly promote your work! i probably won’t see it on the feed, but i’m always open for recommendations, i just don't have the time to look for it anymore.

⇢ i’ll also go through my followers and block anyone who doesn’t have their age displayed or looks like a bot. no questions asked. this isn’t a blog for minors, and i wanna protect myself. understand how tumblr works if y’all wanna be here.

⇢ i will finish and post seoul town road soon. please be patient. 

⇢ lately, i’ve seen a lot of wonderful writers deactivate due to lack of interaction and support. i understand we’re here working, writing and sharing for free because we *chose to*, but it's hard to speak to the void. so please, don’t let this become a place where authors are talking to themselves while feeling unsafe due to plagiarism or hate. i understand the reasons why someone might be a silent reader, but... just don't make the authors you like feel alone, y'all (i can write some tips and general guides for reviewing and interacting with writing blogs if y’all are interested).

⇢ ok, so… i thought a lot about whether or not to talk about it. it was already super messy, even if i wasn’t online at the time and didn’t see it happening (i'm sorry if this is just repetition, and i bet y'all are sick of it). but ultimately, the main reason why i hesitated to come back was because of what happened to M, so i kinda need to vent about that.

M was one of the oldest blogs here, always open to chat and interact and doing god's work for our horny and sentimental souls (shape of your body is actually one of my favorite stories ever and made me realize a bunch of stuff about myself to the point where i quoted some of it to my therapist at the time), and y’all came for them in such a nasty, violent way, misgendering and attacking a person that, upon first being called out for writing something insensitive, was immediately open to discussion and hearing what y’all had to say (regardless if it really was insensitive or not, the discussion was more than welcomed by them).

what shocks me the most, is that y’all are supposedly from a fandom of a bunch of dudes who once wrote problematic stuff, but educated themselves after accepting criticism and changed. if y’all understand that our oppressions are systematic, y’all have to understand that everyone has stuff to learn and stuff to let go. i say that as a black woman, who once used to perpetrate racist shit because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a bi woman, who once used to perpetrate biphobic and queerphobic rhetoric because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a human being, who once used (and probably still do to some capacity) to perpetrate prejudice and problematic behavior because that was how i was raised and taught.

this is not to say we should forgive and forget whenever someone says stuff that’s wrong or suspicious, but sometimes people really don’t understand that what they’ve said is offensive or from a place of unfamiliarity (not sure if that's a real word), and if we gave the boys the benefit of the doubt and still supported them (and are now being rewarded with their care and attention) why can’t we do the same for ourselves? not to mention how transphobic most of y’all were, all while calling someone out for doing something you deemed problematic, like ??? fuck y’all tbh. seeing how they were treated, and learning about the tea blog made me physically sick. someone who has always been such a light in this community being dragged from one (debatable) mistake — which they acknowledged and apologized for — made me depressed af.

it all made this look like stan twitter, where every interaction feels like an attempt to expose someone and draw hate towards them. this makes me feel unsafe as hell. and i don’t know… this whole environment is not as it used to be. there were a bunch of nice projects i wanted to share, i was working on jade’s profile for a nice little thing i wanted to do to support the writing community, i was working on monthly recs, but… idk. i’m not saying i won’t do them, just saying it might take longer for me to feel comfortable here again.

⇢ i know i'm no one. i'm a little blog from the corner of our community, and i barely have enough followers for all of this to mean anything. but this is still my blog, and it's still a place that was supposed to feel good. and i want to have some control over it, even if no one cares necessarily.

anyway. i’m depressed, and i’m saying stuff i might regret, but. yeah. that’s it ig. i'll return slowly and i missed y'all, especially on discord, and i'm sorry for vanishing. i'll also be rb this for the next days to make sure that i reaches everyone i want it to reach.

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 15 || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none !! a/n: a “leading” chapter, before something actually happens! so, not the most exciting, but... yeah. :D

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​​ @crescent-iak​​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​​ @jinfizz​​ @doyoungyoung​​ @ahgayeah0305​​ @doyobun​​ @sexualitaeyong​ @mrkleelvr​​ @m1ss-foodi3​​

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If it’s one thing you’ve learned about yourself, it’s that you hate when Ten chews his food with his mouth open. He chomps it like a cow munching on grass, and sometimes, he even makes those weird wet sounds if the food is soft and squishy enough.

But after laying in a hospital bed for a week, unable to speak, you’re missing the ability to call your big brother ‘disgusting’ across the table, toss something in his direction, and him opening his mouth to show the contents of his dinner inside.

“Are you fucking insane? You let her go into hellfire, knowing damn well she wasn’t protected?” The voice is familiar, loud, and straining, like they’re on the verge of tears but too instilled with anger to let the sadness seep through. “I thought I said to keep her fucking safe if you wanted to work together.”

“I don’t work in the field, Ten. I don’t control what happens at the moment.”

“Yeah, but you set the commands. You give the orders. She’s fucking on her deathbed, Taeyong—“

“Don’t fucking say my name in public,” he hisses through his gritted teeth. “Listen. If it’s not her, it’s me.”

“I’d rather it be you.”

“You need me, Ten. Who is gonna do the dirty work for you? Look at those pretty fingers. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. But your sister—you know damn well she’s got potential to be more. This is just a hurl she’s jumping over. When she recovers—“

“You’ve got to be fucking insane, you think I’m gonna let her go back out there when you put her in harms way?”

Before the conversation could continue, you hear the door click shut, and the shuffling of flat shoes tapping against the cold tiles, reaching to your bedside. You can’t see, your body won’t let you fully awaken, and you can’t speak with this tube lodged in your throat. But the whiff of the cologne that comes hits your nostrils is a familiar one. It’s Doyoung.

He sighs, like he’s been troubled and you can’t even blame him. You told him not to worry, that you’d stay safe, and here you are—unable to move, unable to wake up, unable to breathe on your own, and unable to talk.

You hear his moments; the scuffing of his oversized denim jacket against the leather seat by your bed, browsing through the drawers with each push and slam until he finds what he’s looking for, and when you hear the television turn on, you could only assume it was for the remote.

“I wonder if they have Marvel movies playing,” he says, seemingly to no one in particular until you realize he’s speaking to you, in spite of the fact that you’re very much in a deep sleep. “I know they’re not your favorite, but you tolerate it. I never got to ask what kind of movies you liked. I… I guess I was being a little selfish when you gave me attention that I never considered to ask.”

You wanna tell him that you actually don’t even like movies, in fact, you prefer sitcoms in spite of your very evident opposite personality. If you could, you would tell him that you watch those superhero movies because he’s into them, that if you get to see that pretty little smile on his face, it makes you forget all your problems and… the moment is worthwhile.

Warmth reaches your fingers, and you could only assume that it’s Doyoung holding your hand. It’s a familiar feeling of home, like you’re meant to be here with him, except the current setting isn’t necessarily favored.

“Do you like Spongebob?” He asks, as if you could even respond. “Mm. Doesn’t really seem like your thing, but I feel like you’re the type to not look like you enjoy it, but you actually love it because it’s annoying.”

He’s… right. You want to laugh, genuinely laugh because Kim Doyoung is spot on with his prediction. He knows you better than he gives himself credit for, because he doesn’t change the channel and watches the TV with you.

“I bet you like sitcoms,” Doyoung mentions randomly, eyes still on the screen. “Like maybe not Modern Family, but maybe like… Parks and Rec. You don’t seem like you’d enjoy the Office too much, maybe Michael Scott is too much of a character but Andy Bernard looks like a guy you’d scare to the point he’d piss his pants, but you’d like him.” Again, you think to yourself. Because Doyoung got it right yet again.

He’s quiet for a bit, letting Spongebob play in the background and you could hear the conversation between Spongebob and Patrick. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s actually happening, but the feeling of being with Doyoung like this, hand in hand with something stupid playing on TV is your favorite.

It’s casual. No missions, no guns, no family business—just you and Doyoung.

Doyoung doesn’t say much on the day you finally wake up. With a tube wedged down your throat, it’s difficult to have a two-way conversation anyways, and seeing you like this probably breaks his heart, so any word that leaves his mouth might be with a stutter and a sob.

Spongebob plays on the television for another hour before Doyoung eventually breaks the glass of quietude, letting out a soft chuckle at something Patrick said. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, glancing over at you. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Spongebob.” Although you can’t speak, the soft squeeze of his hand gives away your approval, and a gentle smile tugs on his face.

There's another moment of silence, just before Doyoung lowers the volume of the TV before gathering enough courage to talk. It takes a lot to get himself to speak up against you, someone he sort of feared yet at the same time had strong feelings for.

“I know what you do,” he announces, eyes never leaving the flickering screen with cartoon characters under the deep blue sea do stupid things, unmatching to what he wants to say next. “I can’t say that I totally get it, because I don’t. I’d be lying if I said I did, but… you do those things, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what to make out of it, but I get why it was hard to confess… those things.” He runs his fingers through his greasy locks, accumulating in oils from how long he’s stayed here without going home to shower. “I kind of thought I was going to date someone really simple one day, yaknow? Settle down with a girl who has a job, sweet and kind, with the same end goal in mind. Get married, have kids… all that fun stuff.”

Your nose twitches at that. Because you’re definitely not that.

“But then I met you, which is… well,” he lets out a faint laugh, “... the complete opposite of all of that. You’re dangerous, cold, and oftentimes, I’m left hanging by a thread, confused on what we are and what I actually mean to you.”

If you could, you’d interrupt him right then and there. Tell him your sorrys, belatedly confessing your true feelings for him, let him know you’d be better for real this time, but truthfully, you’re not sure if he’ll believe you anyway.

“And I could just drop everything right now. Just get up, leave, move on. Tell you that I don’t want this anymore, that whatever you’re in, I don’t wanna be roped in and get involved in your baggage.” It’s like you could hear the cracking of your heart as it falls into the depths of your stomach because your chest feels empty when he says that. The worst part is when you can’t defend yourself, tell him that it’s not like that, but in the end, Doyoung does it for you.

“Yet, I’m still here, right? Because I don’t get you, I don’t get whatever it is you got yourself caught up in, but… after knowing, it oddly makes me… trust you more. So, I’ll stay.”

“Fuck,” Ten curses underneath his breath, getting slightly frustrated with the wheelchair being caught on the steps of your home again. “Fucking shit, nothing here is disability accessible.”

It’s still hard to talk, but a weak laugh escapes from your lips.

“Don’t laugh, you’re the one in the wheelchair not doing shit.”

When he gets you through the front door, and into the hallway, you can’t help but stare at Ten curiously. He furrows his brows at this, hands at his hips with a gesture of his chin. “What’s in your head?”

“Uh,” it’s straining to speak, but if not now, it’s never. “I overheard a conversation when I was asleep. I-I don’t know if it was a dream or… I don’t know. But I heard you talking to someone, uh, someone particularly… with a reputation.”

His body goes rigid.

“Right,” you state, feeling more confident that the discussion was definitely not a dream. “So this entire time, you’ve been working with the organization?” Ten only sucks his cheeks, unable to formulate a proper rebuttal, so you take advantage of this. “This whole time, you let them constantly probe and ask me to be part of them—”

“I told him not to—”

“Well, he’s been asking, Ten, and he hasn’t stopped. I got contracted to be part of them temporarily, not permanently. This was supposed to be a one and done deal, you realize that, right?”

He scoffs. “You think that anything you do with Lee Taeyong could just be easily brushed under the rug? Hell no, you have to be insanely rich to pay off that guy. He thinks you’re talented, you know? What do you think this is?”

“I could just get up and leave—” “In your fucking dreams, kid,” Ten lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. “I agreed to work with him before I knew that you were already contracted with him. There’s shady people in the business. There’s so many messed-up dudes who would bend the laws to get what they want. I don’t want that, but I have to protect myself.”

“But—”

“Wanna hear something, kid? Taeyong doesn’t think this accident,” Ten gestures to your wounds, heart tightening at the sight of you in pain. “... this accident, is just… it. He calls this an obstacle. He thinks this is just a bump in your progress, something you need to overcome before you hop back into the field and start training all over again. He’s not gonna let this go, doesn’t matter if I’m his client. Fuck, kid, he has a shit ton of clients.”

Uneasily, you grip onto the wheels of your seat. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“It’s your loss, kid. Either kill Taeyong and take his seat or you gotta work for him.”

[chidoroki]

TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

[goldenraeofsun]

There is Only Try, Part I

“Love spell,” Rowena proclaims as she glides down the stairs to the Bunker floor like it’s her personal ballroom. Her midnight blue floor-length gown and elaborately curled hair look especially out of place - Dean’s pretty sure his shirt has pizza stains from at least three different pizzas. The shirt is red, so at least two of them don’t count.

Behind her on the stairs, Sam chokes.

Rowena turns around to face him. “And I thought this was going to be a challenge,” she chides. “Really, Samuel?”

“What do you mean, ‘love spell’?” Dean demands with a fleeting glance at Cas, who’s gone red in the face. Dean doesn’t blame him - between the hooker with the daddy problems and the stabby reaper, he’d be leery of anything vaguely love-shaped too.

“We called you because we need to translate the runes on a cursed box,” Sam says slowly. “We think it’s in some sort of cipher, since even Cas can’t get a read on it.”

“Well, did Tweety Pie touch the box?”

“No,” Cas says, offended.

Dean nudges him with his elbow, saying in an undertone, “C’mon, like it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Dean.”

Dean takes in Cas’s unamused face and scowls at Rowena's tinkling laugh. “Okay, Sabrina, what the fuck do you mean by ‘love spell’?”

“I mean the angel’s been cursed with a love spell,” Rowena says with deliberate slowness, like she’s giving a command to a particularly stupid lap dog. “Was it not obvious?”

Dean glances at Cas, horror trickling down his spine. “No.”

“Hmph,” Rowena sniffs. “Men really are oblivious to matters of the heart.” She waves her hand again, eyes glimmering violet. “Like I thought,” she continues, placing both hands on her hips, “A jardin d’amour.”

“A garden of,” Sam pauses, clearly trying not to laugh, “love?”

“A very basic love spell,” Rowena says disdainfully. “The lass didn’t seem to have any imagination.”

“The witch we ganked two weeks ago was a dude,” Dean says. A beat. “A man witch.”

Sam snorts.

“There you go,” Rowena says, lifting her nose into the air. “Most men don’t have that innate knack for the magical arts.” She turns to Sam, giving him the most obvious come-hither look Dean has ever seen. “There are some obvious exceptions, of course.”

Okay, Dean needs Rowena and her heebs with a large dosing of the jeebs out of the Bunker, stat.

“It starts as a tiny seed, a wee obsession,” Rowena explains, “and grows and grows until it consumes you.” She squints, wiggling her fingers, and Dean just barely stops himself from jumping in front of Cas on instinct. “I’d say the spell’s gone about halfway through its course.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. He throws another calculating glance at Cas. “He’s not writing love songs or grabbing a boombox, so he’s obviously not cursed.”

Cas, still suspiciously silent, shoves both his hands in his pockets and stares hard at a spot of the floor between his feet.

“Oh, but he is, darlin’,” Rowena exclaims delightedly. “I can see it clear as day. Look!”

Cas sneezes as the magic washes over him for a third time, and now they all can see the purple sparkles - really, Rowena? - hovering in the air around him.

“Okay,” Dean makes a face, “Now I’m confused.”

“Not for the first time, isn’t that right?” Rowena says with faux-sympathy.

Dean glowers. He turns to Cas. “Come on, she’s making this all up. You’d know if you got dosed with Love Potion No. 9.”

“I-” Cas says, his gaze skittering from Dean to Rowena and back again. He looks… caught.

“Wait,” Dean thunders, taking a step forward, “You knew?”

“I,” Cas starts haltingly, “had suspected.”

“And you didn’t think you’d tell us you’d been whammied?”

Cas shrugs. “It doesn’t seem to be affecting me at all. My vessel is functioning normally.”

“Sure, because you’re such an expert on normal-”

Cas’s eyes flash. “It didn’t seem relevant considering everything else-”

“What d’you mean every-?”

“Kelly Kline - Lucifer, again - the British Men of Letters - take your pick,” Castiel retorts heatedly.

“We’ve got that under control-”

“Killing a child is not ‘under control’-”

“It is if the kid’s the literal spawn of Satan-”

“I never thought I’d hear Dean Winchester defending the murder of an inno-”

Dean throws up his hands. “Did you miss my ‘spawn of Satan’ comment?”

“No,” Cas says, his expression as stony as the Bunker’s foundations, “my hearing is excellent.”

Off to the side, Rowena mutters in a carrying stage-whisper, “I can see how a wee curse like this is the least of your problems.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Sam says, running a weary hand down his face.

Dean rounds on them. “What?”

“Do you want me to remove the love spell or not?” Rowena asks, eyebrows raised. “My time is precious, you know. I don’t live to be at the Winchesters’ beck and call.”

“For the last fucking time, it’s not a goddamn spell!” Dean explodes. “Whatever it is, he is not in love. He hasn’t been acting any different.”

Rowena beams. “Well now, if he were already in love, it would have no outward effects. He’d…” Her expression becomes stomach-turningly sly, “...function normally, so to speak.”

Cas’s mouth sets in a firm line. As Dean goggles at him, Cas demands, “Remove the spell, now.”

Dean swallows. Cas can’t be - she can’t be implying - that’s impossible. He’s an angel. They don’t feel things like that.

Do they?

“I’m going to need some ingredients,” Rowena says, looking up to Sam. “Where might they be?”

Sam gestures her forward. “Back in the store room, I’ll show you.”

Rowena pats him lightly on the arm. “What a gentleman,” she simpers as Dean pretends to hurl behind her back.

Dean can’t bring himself to speak until they’re both out of earshot, their footsteps fading off into the distance. He turns to Cas, trying to keep his voice detached and failing miserably. “So, you think it got you after all?”

Cas looks away. “I know it has.”

“Oh.” Dean picks up his empty whiskey glass. He runs a hand down his face, trying to scrub away whatever he’s feeling. It doesn't work. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Fucking witches.”

“I - I could use one as well,” Cas says to Dean’s surprise.

* * *

“So, uh, who’s the lucky chick?” Dean asks as he makes a beeline for the liquor cart in the library off the war room. He grabs an additional glass for Cas and the bottle of Jack, tips the bottle down his own throat to get them started, and pours them out a few fingers.

Cas takes his drink, jaw clenching. He doesn’t look like a dude head over heels. He looks like his normal sleep-deprived, tax accountant self. He stays silent.

Dean thumps heavily down into a chair. “Have we met her?” he prompts because he’s nothing if not a masochist at heart.

“You could say so, in a sense.” Cas raises his eyes to meet Dean’s, face softening, and Dean’s going to hurl for real this time. Cas continues, “There’s not much in my life I keep from you.”

Dean swallows against the ball of self-loathing and disgust clogging his throat. “Some lady angel, then? Been dreaming about plucking her harp strings?”

Cas scowls into his drink. “No.”

“Not an angel?”

“Not a lady,” Cas says, his voice almost unbearably stiff. “And not an angel, either. A human - a beautifully flawed human.”

Dean has no words to say to that, so he drinks. Cas has probably met thousands of people - nice, normal people who aren’t fucked up in the head from ganking monsters their whole lives - since he’s been on Earth. God knows, he hasn’t been plastered to Dean’s side the entire time. Lately, Dean can’t even come up with a good excuse to get him to stay for more than a day or two at most.

“A guy, then,” Dean says to make sure they’re on the same page - because last time he checked, waves of celestial intent cared less about acing a Gender and Sexuality 101 class and more about whether a meatsuit could withstand a holy oil molotov cocktail.

Cas nods, his eyes narrowing. “Your opinion on homosexual relationships is part of the reason I’ve never brought it up before.”

“Hey, I don’t judge,” Dean says, not entirely truthfully. He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Homo it up, man. Love is love.”

Cas’s nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t comment on Dean’s hamfisted attempt at proving his acceptance of ‘alternative lifestyles’ as Dad might’ve put it charitably one time. “It’s complicated,” Cas adds, like any part of this fucked-up situation could fit under a goddamn Facebook status.

Dean hitches a grin on his face that probably wouldn’t fool a blind person. “So, apart from that, how come you’ve never come to me for help? I don’t wanna brag, but I’m kind of an expert in hookups. Sam’s kind of hopeless. He can’t get a chick into bed without her dying on him.”

Cas knocks back his glass. “I didn’t want to bother you with my feelings.”

Dean automatically grimaces at the mention of feelings. But, hell, he’s not a teenage girl. He can man up and be there for his best friend.

He has to - Cas hardly asks him for anything anymore.

Sure, Cas didn’t exactly ask Dean for anything this time around, but Dean can read between the lines. Now that he’s copped to what’s going on beneath Cas’s still waters, he can see how deep those feelings run. Especially if what Rowena’s saying is true and a love spell is barely a drop in the bucket.

“And, regardless, your ‘hookup’ skills wouldn’t be relevant, anyway,” Cas says quietly, lowering his hands. “I’m not interested in… coupling.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. “That reaper really screwed you over, didn’t she? Look, just because you got shanked, doesn’t mean all sex winds up with an angel blade-”

“I misspoke,” Cas says over him. “What I mean is, I would rather have no sexual relations at all if I cannot have all of him: mind, body, and soul.”

Trust Cas to spout the most profound cheese Dean has ever heard.

And also, what the fuck? Dean can’t get behind that idea at all. Dean’s always been a take what you can get kind of dude. He had to be, with what he has to work with - a pretty face, a killer's instinct, and an inability to have a normal relationship if his goddamn life depended on it.

Like, if Dean had gotten the slightest whiff that Cas was down with gettin’ down and dirty with Dean as his last hurrah (which of course he didn’t), Dean would never have bothered with that stupid den of inequity. As hilarious as the outcome was, he would have gone for a little something-something for himself before the end of the world.

Of course, Dean wasn’t in love with Cas yet then. Whenever it came to mind, it was just a fun thought experiment, an idle what if for him to think about during a dry spell. Like his fantasies about fucking Ginger from Gilligan’s Island. Or hatesex with Bela Talbot.

But none of that mattered because every step of the way from Castiel, mighty Angel of the Lord, to Cas, their friendly neighborhood angel-man, he never hinted he’d be down for a quick roll in the hay... or something more serious.

Dean remembers very clearly: Anna fell to experience emotions, even the bad ones.

And Dean’s not an idiot - Cas obviously experiences emotions now. Dude’s been through too much not to feel something. But Dean’s never deluded himself that they could ever include all the romantic lovey-dovey, chick-flick moments crap.

Family love, sure. Cas might love all his haloed siblings. Cas has been around for all the Top 10 worst decisions that are the Winchesters’ version of brotherly devotion. Cas even said the big L-word out loud himself, when he was bleeding out in that barn a month ago.

But romantic love? The big kahuna L-O-V-E?

Dean always thought scaling Mount Everest with a plastic beach shovel would be easier than convincing an angel to feel that way about anyone. Cas is a wave of celestial intent; waves of celestial intent don’t do anything as human, as stupid, as fall in love.

But apparently they do.

So maybe that’s why Cas has always been so hard to pin down, so eager to leave Dean all the time. He’s been off pining after this mystery guy.

Awesome.

Cas heaves a weighty sigh and finishes off his own glass of whiskey. Without another word, he half raises from his chair, reaching around the table lamp, to pour them both a second round. “I suppose there is a bit of a relief in finally saying it,” he says in a low voice. “I can’t be with him, but there is a certain amount of happiness in it being known, just being seen.”

Dean wastes no time in downing half his new drink. Throat burning in warning, he forces out, “Why - why can’t you? You’re a freaking angel - thought you could have anyone.” Dean frowns. “He’s not a civilian, is he?”

Talk about a recipe for disaster: Cas plus normal person equals uncomfortable questions and fucked up babysitting gigs.

Cas’s eyes widen. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head. “Ah, no, not really.”

“So he knows about angels.”

Cas gives a slow nod. “He doesn’t have a very high opinion of them, though,” he says ruefully, staring down into his glass. “They’ve made his life very difficult over the past few years.”

Dean scoffs, “He can join the club.”

Cas flinches.

“Hey, no,” Deans says quickly, “Not you.”

Cas raises head, his eyes unbearably bleak. “Why not me? I was the one who set the Leviathans and angels loose on humanity to wage their wars, among a dozen other transgressions.” He adds morosely, “Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if a different angel rescued you from Hell after all.”

Dean blinks at Cas, his stomach turning over with dread at the very idea. He tries to picture some nameless angel yanking him out of the Pit or marching into that barn with all the righteousness of Heaven on his heels. Dean can’t do it.

Or worse, not a nameless angel. Uriel, who was ready to kill thousands without a second thought. Zachariah, that dickwad with the mind games. Even Hannah, who Dean reluctantly liked - he still can’t see her sticking by their side, falling, sacrificing everything for them.

Cas is their third wheel, the stabilizer that keeps Team Free Will upright and moving forward. Without him, they’re a tandem bicycle, and nobody wants a repeat of that opening scene from Gabriel’s sitcom from Hell.

“Yeah, but at least you always tried to do the right thing.”

“There is no try, only what I did or did not do,” Cas answers with a strange, defeated expression.

“Okay, but,” Dean starts, rolling his eyes at Cas’s butchered Star Wars reference, “Yoda’s a lot of things, but applicable to the real world without space lasers, he is not. Sometimes the only thing you can do is try, dude.”

God knows, Dean could never have forgiven Cas for any of the shit he pulled if he hadn’t been 100% positive Cas had the best of intentions. Cas did all those things to save the world, and, sometimes, to save Dean personally. Which gives him the girliest, fuzzy feelings and also makes him want to punch a wall.

Cas throws him a pitying look. “Every time I ‘try’ to make things better, I fail.” He shakes his head. “When you were taken, I searched for months to find you. Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. I’m a… dumbass.”

“I thought you preferred ‘trusting,’” Dean jokes, and it only sounds a little forced.

Cas throws him an exasperated look. “Perhaps a few years ago. But now? I’ve made too many mistakes, and people have suffered - you and Sam have suffered - as a result. You don’t need to spare my feelings, Dean. It’s hardly what I deserve.”

Dean frowns, tapping his fingers against his glass as he takes in Cas's defeated air. “Hey, what’s with the pity party?”

“It’s not a ‘pity party’,” Cas counters. “These are basic facts.”

Dean leans forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You aren’t serious.”

Cas stares back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Dean rakes his gaze up and down Cas’s face, looking for a break, for a tell - even though he knows he won’t find any. “You saved the world. A couple of times by now.”

“I also personally put it in jeopardy more than once,” Cas mutters. “I trusted Crowley to steal Purgatory. I trusted Metatron to bring peace to Heaven. I trusted Lucifer to take out the Darkness.”

Dean’s heart sinks with every reminder of Cas’s greatest hits. “Come on…”

Cas’s mouth thins, lips pressing together as he raises his glass to his mouth. “You don’t need to stay to keep me company, either,” he says in a low voice. “I’m the one under the spell. If you have anything more pressing, I can wait here for Rowena.”

“Shut up,” Dean says automatically. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Cas exhales a weighty sigh, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

“Hey, what you need - hell, what we both need - is a win,” Dean says reassuringly. “Everything’s been such shit, you need a reminder to keep going.” He gets up from his seat, his legs itching to move. “Why don’t you tell me more about that man of yours?” he asks quickly, his words nearly tripping over themselves to get out before the regret sets in. “Maybe that’s the key to getting your head back in the game.”

Cas doesn’t say anything as Dean moves to peruse a row of books he has no intention of ever reading. Eventually, Cas protests without much conviction, “My head is in the game. I am still useful.”

Dean’s head jerks around so fast it nearly gives him whiplash. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It isn’t?” Cas asks, head tilting in confusion.

Dean makes a face. “I mean, if you’re feeling down, you… shouldn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

Dean paces to the other end of the bookshelf, unbelievably annoyed at Cas for making him spell it out for him. “Forget it,” Dean says instead. “I still owe you for ganking Billie-”

“But the cosmic consequences-”

“Will suck, but in the meantime you saved our lives. I owe you.” Dean turns so he’s back to fully facing Cas. “So, tell me what this mystery guy is into.”

Cas’s eyes narrow at him. “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

“Seriously?”

Cas straightens and nods.

“But,” Dean says, words failing as he wars with himself. He could push Cas for more info or keep on living in blissful ignorance. But if he has to choose between his own personal peace of mind or Cas experiencing the one pinnacle of human happiness (or so Dean’s been told in countless chick flicks he’ll take to the grave), it’s no choice at all. He starts again, “If you tell me about him, it’ll make this a lot easier.”

“I don’t want it to be easier,” Cas says, baffled. “I don’t want this to be anything.”

Dean gapes. “Why the hell not?”

Cas taps his empty glass on the table, irritated. “Please, leave it alone.”

“No,” Dean says mulishly. “I wanna help you, man.”

“I don’t want any help.”

“Well, tough shit because you’re getting it anyway. You’re family-”

Cas’s face does a weird spasm.

“-And that’s what you do for family,” Dean continues, a little confused and insulted. They are family; Cas said so, back when he thought he was dying in Ramiel’s barn.

“Drop it.”

“No,” Dean argues, shoving down everything else as his temper rises. “You’re hurtin’, and I can help. Why don’t you trust me? You trusted Crowley, Metatron, fucking Lucifer-”

Too far. Shit.

Cas whirls around, his face a mask of frustration and an emotion Dean has never seen before. “I did, and you know what? They screwed me. And, please forgive me, Dean, but I am tired of being used and used up, over and over.”

Dean blinks, his anger falling away to a raw hurt only Cas can dredge up. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Cas runs a weary hand down his face. He just shakes his head.

“C’mon, Cas, it’s me,” Dean says - pleads, really. “You know me better than anyone else, ’cept Sammy. I won’t do something like that.”

Cas glares. “I do know you, so I know that is exactly what will happen.”

Dean reels back, and he can’t save himself in time before an undoubtedly pained look spreads across his face.

Cas’s hostility cracks, but Dean’s already gotten the message.

So Cas’s one big happy loving family message was only a deathbed thing. That’s… fine. Dean’s done it himself, a time or two. Told Sam to live his life and not go looking for revenge or a way to fix it - all a crock of horse shit, of course. He should’ve figured Cas was more human than angelic with that poison pumping through his veins, making him all weak and sweaty. ’Course he wasn’t above feeling human sentimentality in his death throes.

Face hardening, Dean turns on his heel. “You were right about one thing. I guess I do have more important things to do than staying here with you.”

“Dean,” he hears behind him, but Dean doesn’t look back.

* * *

Dean always hides a spare bottle of booze in the bottom drawer of the desk in his bedroom. It's mostly empty, but, hopefully, by the time Dean's polished it off, Cas’ll be cured, Rowena will be gone, and they all can pretend this never happened - Dean can pretend that Cas stopped keeping secrets because he’s learned they always blow up in his face in the past six years.

Anyway.

First, the booze.

Dean’s barely wrestled the top off with shaking fingers of leftover anger when a knock sounds against his door.

“’S the witch gone yet?” Dean asks without lifting his head.

The door opens. “Dean, it’s me.”

Dean takes a long pull of whiskey.

Cas sighs, audible in the stuffy, tension-filled space between them. He doesn’t approach, instead hovering in the doorway, and isn’t that how it always goes? Always poised for flight, that’s Cas. “Dean,” he repeats, which only makes Dean's blood boil that much hotter.

“What?” he demands. “What do you want now? ’Cause I can’t think of a single thing you need from me, Cas.”

Cas presses his lips together. “You’re making this very difficult.”

“Me?” Dean barks incredulously. “You’re the one hiding things and not letting me help you.”

“You won’t accept this is one area in which you can’t help?” Cas asks quietly.

Dean makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat.

Cas shakes his head, his gaze focusing on Dean’s face with his patented laser intensity. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Yeah, I’m just a jackass who can’t get a lady to stick around for more than a few hours. I get it.” He glances up to see Cas’s stricken expression. Frowning, Dean looks away.

Cas steps tentatively into Dean’s room, his face weirdly apprehensive. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Sure,” Dean says, tipping the bottle back like it’s water because he needs to be so much drunker to deal with Cas and his love spell bombshells right now.

Cas hovers awkwardly by Dean’s desk, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. “You’re so capable of love.”

“Cas-” Dean starts, but he has no idea where he’s going with this.

Cas keeps talking, thank God. “You don’t acknowledge that side of you very often, but I feel it every time we see each other, every time you’re with your brother. You care, you love, so wholly and completely.” Cas chuckles ruefully. “I didn’t realize it for a few years. I didn’t see how unique it was, how special you are, but you are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.”

Dean’s tongue finally unsticks from the roof of his mouth. Face flaming hotter than the inferno where he first met Cas eight years ago, he rasps out, “Cas - what the hell are you saying?”

Cas swallows, dragging his gaze back up to meet Dean’s wide eyes. “The reason I didn’t tell you about the love spell was because it couldn’t make me love you any more than I already do.”

Dean blinks, dumbfounded, at Cas, the words love you bouncing around his skull like a blocked radio signal. Cas said them; Dean heard them with his own two ears; but the meaning behind the words is getting lost in transmission.

As Dean’s brain struggles to make sense of just about everything, Cas nods once. “Well, now you know. I’ll go wait for Rowena’s cure in the kitchen.”

And then he leaves.

Dean slams the whiskey bottle down on his desk, cursing as it nearly topples over in his haste. He sets it right, swearing more as precious seconds pass by. He hurtles down the hall, half-convinced Cas lied to him to get a head start and is really halfway to Timbuktu.

But Dean finds Cas in the library, sitting more or less where he left him before Dean had his little wallowing session in his bedroom.

“Cas!” Dean blurts, skidding to a halt and grabbing onto the edge of the table for support.

Cas looks up, frowning. “I - “ he gives himself a little shake and starts again, “Is Rowena having trouble with the spell?”

“What?” Dean strides forward on shaky legs. “No - I mean, I don’t know. They could be fucking in a supply closet for all I care.”

Cas’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. For the first time today, he looks almost afraid. “Then why are you here?” he asks, his gaze darting towards the stairs to the exit. “I’m only going to stay in the Bunker until Rowena can finish. Then I will go.”

“Go?” Dean repeats, a spike of panic shooting up his spine. “You can’t.”

Cas inhales a sharp breath. “You want me to stay?”

“You want to bail?” Dean demands, his voice rising.

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “You’re upset. This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“I’m not fucking upset!”

Cas throws him an unimpressed look. “You clearly are. Your pulse is rising. Your pupils are dilated. I can smell your elevated levels of adrenaline.”

Dean makes a face. “Dude - lines - crossed.”

“Fine,” Cas says, his face set. He gets up. “I can coordinate with Rowena at a later date. She should focus on the cursed box, anyway. It’s clearly a more pressing concern and the reason we called her in the first place.”

“Hey.” Dean takes a step forward. “Wait.”

Cas’s mouth sets in a thin line. “What do you want, Dean? I did as you asked. I told you the spell could only latch onto my feelings for you.”

Dean falters, his words failing him.

Cas’s shoulders slump. “I did warn you, you know,” he murmurs, trying to pass Dean on his way towards the door.

Dean grabs onto Cas’s bicep before he can disappear. “Gimme a moment. What you said - it’s a lot.”

Miracle of miracles, Cas stops.

Dean can practically feel the power thrumming underneath the trench coat sleeve in his grip, but Cas wordlessly lets Dean guide him back to the library table.

“Okay,” Dean starts, his head still mercilessly void of the right thing to say, “So that guy, the one you’re - well, it’s - he’s me?” he asks, stumbling over his words like he hasn’t since that one time Rhonda Hurley opened her underwear drawer.

Cas nods once, his face impossibly solemn.

“Right,” Dean grunts. He rubs at his chin, Cas watching the whole while. “That’s - wow.”

“Quite,” Cas says wryly.

“Hey, don’t be a dick,” Dean shoots back. “I had no idea.”

“That was the point,” Cas sighs. “But now you do.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, feeling like a tongue-tied idiot. If only he could be more like Cas with the grand declarations.

Cas opens his mouth, pausing for a beat before saying, “I was never intending to leave permanently. I will still help you figure out how to deal with Kelly Kline. I will still assist with research, translations, anything you need.” His blue eyes bore into Dean’s face. “I can still be useful.”

Dean’s chest aches. “Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t about that?” he asks gruffly.

Cas’s earnest expression falters. “Of course,” he says, subdued. “Regardless, know that I am always willing to help the Winchesters.”

“Jesus,” Dean mutters, “This isn’t - it’s never been - about you being goddamn useful.” He huffs an exasperated breath, frowning harder as Cas doesn’t immediately get it and launch himself at Dean.

God, that would make this so much easier.

“What you want?” Dean says, glaring daggers at the tabletop between them, “That whole, mind, body, soul crap? You got it.”

Cas blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“You already have it,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

Cas cocks his head like a perplexed chicken, still as clueless as ever.

It’s clearly time to bring out the big guns. If Cas is going to spout pretty speeches that steal Dean’s breath away and leave him weak-kneed but not actually, you know, make a move, Dean will just have to do everything himself.

Fine. That’s how he’s always operated, anyway.

Face determined, he leans over and grasps the lapels of Cas’s trench coat.

Cas leans back a fraction, his eyes widening in alarm or shock. But before he can utter another word, Dean brings their mouths together.

Cas takes a moment to get with the program. There’s a split-second (that lasts several years) when Cas almost seems to push Dean off him, but he kisses back before Dean can yank himself away first. Cas’s mouth is tentative against Dean’s, like he’s waiting for Dean to end it all and yell, “Got ya!”, but he unseals his lips with a light sigh as Dean gently parts them with his tongue.

Dean unclenches one hand from Cas’s lapel. He reaches up to cup Cas’s jaw, the raspy stubble a physical reminder of the goddamn win he’s finally getting. His knees twinge from awkwardly leaning over, but rampaging Leviathans could burst into the kitchen and Dean wouldn’t give any less of a fuck.

He has Cas right where he wants him, and he’s going to fucking savor it for as long as he can.

When Cas pulls away, his face shows nothing but pure confusion. “Why?” he breathes, raising a finger to touch his lips.

Dean, still half-standing, half-leaning over him, frowns. He falls back to his seat with a thump. “Because you weren’t going to do it first?”

Cas blinks. “I didn’t think you wanted anything like that,” he pauses, “with me.”

Like there’s anyone else around who wants to get real up close and personal with the most dumbass angel in the garrison.

“Yeah, well,” Dean says, the faintest inklings of embarrassment creeping in now they’re not kissing anymore and Cas’s first reaction isn’t to look like he got free tickets to Disneyland. “I did. Do.”

“Oh.”

Dean swallows past the lump in his throat.

Cas looks away from Dean for the first time, and Dean dies a little inside. Stiffy, Cas says, “If this is some misguided attempt to show your sympathy for my situation. I don’t appreciate the gesture.”

“Gesture?” Dean echoes, “What the hell are you on, man? I don’t kiss random dudes because I feel bad for them, Christ.”

“Then why?”

Dean grimaces. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” Cas says quickly, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s face. “I have misunderstood your actions in the past, and I have no desire to do it again.”

Dean groans. “Look, I didn’t think angels could have feelings like that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Or I would’ve… done something about it sooner,” he says, and that’s mostly true. Probably would’ve tried to seduce Cas, failed, and then jumped off a cliff, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, normal angels can’t,” Cas says, “but there’s something broken in me.”

“You’re not broken,” Dean swears loudly, his anger flaring. “You’re… better. A new and improved God Squad, far as I can tell.” He narrows his eyes, daring Cas to talk shit about himself one more time.

Cas bites his lip. “You truly mean it.”

Dean tries for a mocking leer, but it comes out more like a dopey, hopeful smile. “You wanna get it engraved? Put up in neon in the Dean cave?” he asks, eyebrows raised as excitement courses through his veins. Cas loves him. Dean can make good on all those what ifs that have been plaguing him for years. “Tattooed on my ass?”

Cas chuckles lightly. “That would be a start.”

Dean lets out a bark of laughter. He can already feel the insecurities looming on the horizon. There’s always a catch: Cas never stays; Cas might want Dean now, but he’ll fly away the moment Dean fucks up because he has no idea what he’s doing.

But none of that matters right now.

He kissed Cas.

And Cas didn’t smite him. Didn't tell him to fuck off. Didn't flutter off to the moon for shits and giggles.

Cas knows him, knows him better than anyone except Sam. And despite all the fucked up shit in Dean's head, Cas is staying anyway, with his eyes wide open like nobody else Dean has ever been with.

Cas smiles in return. “If I had known a love spell would result in this outcome, I would have sought out that witch ages ago.”

And just like that, all Dean’s happy-ending fantasies come to a screeching halt.

Read Part II here!

[kurama-is-love]

Kurama: A fearsome and cruel character?

I want to talk about how people view Kurama as a character and enemy throughout the series. I found a thread on reddit that can be found here. And while I mostly agree that Kurama is the most dangerous “non-villain” character in YYH, there are some things I highly disagree with and I want to explain them with phrases the users said and why I disagree with it.

(Please note, that I just want to share my view of Kurama and why I don’t agree with some of the points regarding of (maybe their lack of knowledge behind these scenes) the situation they called out for Kuramas “rutheless” and showing no mercy. I don’t want to attack or offend any of the posters of reddit or people who share the same opinion of Kurama, I just want to clarify some points that didn’t get mentioned)

Secondly, he's ruthless. While Kurama might seem like an intelligent man, one who is good with words, he's easily the least sensitive non-villain character in the series. Kuwabara probably takes the spot as the most sensitive and biggest heart out of the crew, even Hiei has his sensitive moments with his sister and Mukuro and has a great arc that develops his humanity, and Yusuke was never really lacking humanity in the first place despite being a delinquent. He still has a sense of justice. But Kurama...he's straight up asked in the Dark tournament if he believes in mercy and the dude just straight up said..."no"

I agree that Kuwabara has the biggest heart and even Hiei shows some mercy sometimes, but the user totally leaves out, that Kurama has a really big heart for his family and his friends, and this friends include Yusuke and the others. Kurama would never let them get hurt without getting angry and punish the enemy for hurting his friends. He also had some human nature moments from the moment he met Yusuke for the first time. Hiei and Kurama are both influenced by Yusukes kindness and learned to understand humans. And let’s not forget, that the person in the example, where Kurama didn’t showed mercy, was Roto. The filthy little bastard that used Kuramas mother / family to take advance in battle. And if there is one thing, we have learned about Kurama: Do. Not. Fuck. with. his. mother. Or family. Don’t do this. He’ll lose all his good natured sides if you put someone in danger, that Kurama is bond with. Let’s be honest here, it’s just natural to protect the ones you love. Everyone would react the way Kurama react when his family is put in danger. Kurama hadn’t killed Roto, if he hadn’t pulled this dirty trick. Kurama has mercy. He really has and it’s shown several times while he fought. He even says to one of his enemies: “I’ll help you… But not by death, this world has enough of that. You can keep your life as long as you change the way you live it. It’s never too late, believe me.” Kurama even says it: It’s never too late to change, he went through this change aswell. Just because he rarely shows mercy with his enemies is just because his enemies were threats that has to be rid of.

He pretty much kills everybody he comes in contact with too, there really is no mercy.

Genbu dies. The only person in the Dark Tournament that he doesn't kill is Ura Urashima and that's because someone kills him first. He makes Kaito lose his soul in the word game, kills the game master...

There's a lot of people Kurama has killed, when they could of been spared in some way. To be fair, not a lot of the people he faces deserves mercy, as they either are in a situation where death is the only way out, or they're threatening his mother, but the point still stands.

Hiei was capable of showing mercy to a man who beat and tortured his sister, of whom he swore his life to protect. Kurama hasn't ever shown that kind of mercy.

He doesn’t kill everybody. Genbu is a bad example, everyone of the Sacred beasts died. Besides.. almost every enemy the group faced died o_O Thats the nature of these old shonen anime. Killing your enemies. I don’t like this handling of enemies but.. you can’t blame Kurama for killing his enemies when everyone killed their enemies too. It was just.. how the show handled antagonists. He also didn’t killed Gama, Gama died from blood loss and exhaustion because he wanted to attack Kurama with his blood to make him weak for his next fight. Hell, Kurama even warned him about his attacks: “No, don’t. You will die, when you continue like this.” Does that look like “he has no mercy” to you? I can’t really remember the case with Kaito, but I absolutely guarantee that he didn’t wanted to kill the Game Master boy. He felt terrible afterwards (and if we face the truth, he had no other choice as to kill the boy. It was either him or the boy and if Kurama had died at that phase, the others weren’t able to stop Elder Toguro. Speaking of which, Kurama had no mercy with him because he made him “kill” a child. That’s the main reason why Kurama seemed to have no mercy when he trapped Toguro in the eternal torture plant. And not because Kurama is a sadistic asshole who enjoys killing and making others suffers. All his “merciless” actions came from emotional decisions and only shows how much he cares for what he does and what others do. Kurama never killed someone as “non-chalantly” as Hiei killed Zero in the Dark Tournament. And ... about “Hiei showing mercy to the man who beat and tortued his sister”.. Uhm.. Nope. Hiei would’ve beaten him to death if Kurama hadn’t intervened by telling Hiei, that it’s forbidden for a demon to kill a human and the punishment from Koenmas father would be so frightening that even Hiei stopped his personal vendetta. That’s what actually happened during those episodes.

I feel like the comments are cut short in only showing Kuramas resulted actions and not why he acted this way in the first place.

I won’t say the people are completely wrong, Kurama is a quite complex and mysterious character. But he is not evil. He cares for his friends and he even cares for humans, like he even decided not get attracted to humans anymore after what happened to Maya, a person who was in love with him, but he didn’t loved her back. Despite that he didn’t loved her, he thinks it’s his own fault that she was dragged into this and to save other humans from being used against him, he decided not to get close to them anymore. That actually sounds quite compassionate and kind.

Of course, he’ll show his enemies another side of him. A more cruel side, but only because his enemies are pure evil. He never even fought someone who was at the “good” side, aside from Yusuke at the beginning. And if we recall what happened, he haven’t even fought him. He begged Yusuke to let him have the mirror until he wished for his mothers life and then giving it back and hand himself in. All other of his enemies tried to kill him and were evil. It is his right to defend his life and showing no real mercy when his enemies don’t have mercy too. He may be a good guy, but that doesn’t mean he is naive enough to let an evil and dangerous creature live until something happens.

I dunno, maybe my thoughts are just because I like him, but.. You know guys, I’ve been told that I have a very good grasp for characters and portray them In-character (Canons and even OCs that are not mine. I wrote several commissions for people and I only had a briefing of the OC and they said I did an amazing job in writing their personality. So.. maybe my grasp for Kurama is not bad either..), so I hope my opinion makes sense.

It’s just not true that Kurama is more ruthless as Hiei. Kurama is the reason why Hiei is not that merciless anymore.

[heyzagman]

SO! I’ve been thinking about how Zagreus, a literal god, trained fighter under Achilles, has to fight through each region of the underworld, powered by the Olympians and ancient Titan-slaying weapons, dying multiple times, before he is able to reach the surface. And Orpheus, dude who has never held a sword in his life, just walked right in and out with only his lyre and his falsetto. I’ve been thinking about that so here’s a fic from the prospective of Thanatos about it: 

disclaimer: I have no idea what the underworld timeline looks like so we are shooting pinball with the ages of the gods here

Thanatos was but a godling when the Orpheus debacle happened. Queen Persephone was with child, attempting to grow a new plant in the garden, when they all heard the singing. This was the first Thanatos himself had heard of it, although Mother Nyx and Lord Hades did not seem alarmed. Specifically, Mother Nyx did not look surprised, but instead, impressed. Lord Hades was enraged. He stood up dramatically, slamming his hands on his desk. Thanatos had been speaking to Mother Nyx about his future duties, the young god had recently found his calling and would soon be working among his older brother Charon and the young Olympian Hermes helping souls to their final resting home. 

Speaking of, Lord Hades was working on attempting to gain communication with the god of messengers. 

An orange orb appeared in the air, as a quick voice emerged, echoing around the house. 

“Hey there, boss, you called?”

Lord Hades’ voice bellowed, trying to be heard over the distant plucking of a lyre. “Have you yet found out who exactly has infiltrated my realm?”

“About that, you see, that’s gonna be Orpheus, son of a Muse, you know those.”

“Why is he here? How did he get so far? I can hear that obnoxious lyre from my desk.”

Hermes tsked. “Well, that’s not a question for me, boss. That’s a question for your security system.”

“My security system is in ORDER! I would have heard if he had killed even one of my wretches.”

“Guess he’s not killing them then, huh? Anyway, good luck, keep me updated, gotta dash.”

The orange orb zapped out and the presence of Olympus left the chamber. 

“Agh!” Hades pressed his fingers on his forehead. In a low voice, he called for Nyx. 

Mother Nyx carted a hand through Thanatos’s hair to calm him before she rose to speak to Lord Hades. 

Thanatos stood up and began walking towards the garden. Hypnos was standing at the doorway of the garden, peering out. 

“What are you doing?” Thanatos asked. 

“You know, just waiting for the Muse’s kid to get here.”

“He cannot. No one alive can enter the underworld, much less the House. The wretches will stop him.”

Hypnos grinned. “He’s gotten through both Elysium and Asphodel. Tartarus is probably a cakewalk, who knows when’s the last time those shades have heard music?”

“You think he is getting through just with his singing?” Thanatos looked through the doorway. Queen Persephone was no longer tending her garden. Instead, she was simply standing and looking, waiting. 

“I can tell that some of the shades out there--they’re sleeping.” Hypnos wrapped himself in his blanket. He said it nonchalantly, as if sleeping shades was a common incident when, on the contrary, it should have been impossible. 

Thanatos hovered closer to his twin, whispering harshly: “Don’t you think you should do something about that? Can’t you wake them up or something?”

Hypnos yawned. “I’m Sleep Incarnate, brother. ‘Waking up’ isn’t really my domain.”

Even if it had been, it would have been for naught. A melody erupted from the garden and the twins barely moved out of the way as all the shades in the House burst out the door in a green river of souls. The eruption, followed by a shout of anger from Lord Hades himself, was matched with the appearance of a young man, surrounded adoringly by shades, walking into the garden. 

In his short trips to and from the surface, he had heard music but nothing quite like this. This was a melody that seemed to be aimed directly to his heart, his heart, as if it was sung just for him. Hypnos beside him seemed as close to wide awake as he’d ever been, as the two godlings peered out to the garden. 

The musician, Orpheus, continued his descent through the garden. Queen Persephone held a dark purple plant to her chest and stepped aside, allowing him entry. She stood still for a moment, and then threw down her flower and ran ahead of Orpheus, past the twins, and to the desk of Lord Hades. 

As Orpheus and his parade of shades entered the House, Thanatos watched Queen Persephone take Lord Hades’ hands in hers and whisper a plea. 

The professional plucking of the lyre echoed and bounced around the chambers, drawing out shades. The House had never felt like this before, everyone kept to themselves and milled in silence. Even the announcement of the pregnancy of the Queen hadn’t held such a communicable celebration. The arrival of Orpheus drew in everyone. Thanatos could see even Sir Achilles swaying on his feet, debating to leave his post to get closer to the music. 

Mother Nyx appeared behind her sons, resting a hand on each of their heads. 

“Mother, what will happen to him?” Thanatos asked. 

“I believe the Queen is attempting to sway Lord Hades’ anger of the musician’s trespassing, my son.”

“But he must be punished,” Thanatos said, finding sorrow in his tone. 

“Yes, my child. But we do not yet know the extent of his crime. The Queen wishes for him to, at the least, be heard.”

Thanatos believed Orpheus was already, clearly, being heard. Mother Nyx remained with the twins as the scene unfolded before them. 

As bold as his actions had been and as long as his journey, Orpheus seemed nervous. He arrived before Lord Hades’ desk. The God of the Dead was standing tall, one hand curled in a large fist, slammed down on a pile of parchment-work. The other was gentle, as Queen Persephone was clutching it. 

Instead of immediately striking down, sending the man’s soul flailing hopelessly towards Tartarus, Lord Hades said: “Do tell, what has prompted you to defy my power and waltz into my home?”

Orpheus’s song stopped and Thanatos could have wept due to the sudden silence (some shades did). His hands shook as he held his lyre close. “My lord, I-I did not mean disrespect to you and your House, or-or, to the Queen. Quite simply, my muse, my love, my Eurydice, had fallen to unkindly fate which led her here. And, well, I do intend to be taking her home with me.”

Lord Hades laughed starkly at that. “Ah, I see. Not only do you break into my home but you expect to leave with another soul? A soul that rightfully belongs here? Have you any idea who you speak to?”

“Uh, I believe you are Lord Hades?”

“That--why you--”

Lord Hades paused and leaned down to the Queen Persephone, who spoke quickly and quietly. A hand rested on her stomach and the god’s expression softened. 

A heavy sigh blew around the chamber. Lord Hades sat down in his chair. The Queen found a seat as well. He said, “Well then. Go on.”

“I’m sorry, my lord?” Orpheus, as well as Thanatos, seemed surprised. 

“If your intentions are of that--of love--well, I will need you to convince me. How do I know this is not a ploy? How do I know you did not come here in malice against me and my family?”

Orpheus brought a smile to his face. “I-I see, my lord. I have a song, if you’d be willing, that will assure you my true intentions.”

Lord Hades nodded. Queen Persephone smiled and leaned forward, as if she was preparing to soak in the moment, savoring every note of the lyre and utterance of the man. 

Orpheus began to sing a love song. It began light and happy and adoring. Thanatos did not need to process the words for the feeling of it was enough to be understood. Mother Nyx gently pushed on his back and allowed them to move forward. 

Thanatos and Hypnos didn’t need more encouragement. Without much thought, the twins broke their endless hover and walked, feet on cold tile, to sit at Orpheus’s feet and listen. Amongst them were all of the shades, gathered around, emerging out of the lounge and administration chamber. Cerberus rested all three heads on the ground, puppy eyes pondering Orpheus. Achilles did not give breaking his post a second thought, and walked over to be closer, leaning with his head against the wall, closing his eyes tightly, as if trying to imagine himself somewhere different. 

The end of the song came too quickly and too sorrowfully. Contrary to the beginning, the ending was of grief and mourning, of loss and the extent one will go to lay eyes on their lover again. 

At the last note, it seemed like a spell had been broken, releasing the House from the song. Thanatos did not realize how much time had passed, but felt in renewed spirits. He wished to thank Orpheus, but instead rose again, grabbing the hand of his twin, who had curled in his quilt, yawning. 

Thanatos returned to Mother Nyx who was watching Lord Hades at his desk, wiping his eyes and furrowing his brow. Thinking of what would come next. 

But they all remembered how it went. 

Time later, the Queen left and returned, both times due to her son, Zagreus. Orpheus was back and singing once again. Zagreus found Thanatos peering over the River Styx. 

“Hey, Than!” Zagreus had just returned from another run, ransacking the underworld. Of course, Thanatos had lent a hand, but that wasn’t something that needed to be announced. It had taken Thanatos time to justify his actions. Especially before it was Zagreus’s duty to do so, back when Thanatos thought that everytime he helped, he was only assisting in Zagreus leaving him. 

“Hello, Zagreus.”

“Did you hear? I was able to lift Orpheus’s punishment, he can visit Asophel to see his muse whenever he’d like.”

“That’s great, Zag. I’m sure he appreciated that very much.”

“I sure hope so, it cost me a couple diamonds. I suppose I’ll just get more from Lernie. Actually, I came to ask, weren’t you there? When Orpheus first came through?”

“Yes, I was,” the song Orpheus had sang was a low hum in the back of his mind ever since, “but I was quite young.”

“I see. I can’t stop thinking about it, you know? Everyday or night, I nearly die trying to get out of here, and that’s with help from a lot of gods. And he just walked through. I doubt he fought.”

“No, he did not. He just sang.”

“I’ll have to give it to him. He made it look easy--the getting in part, at least,” Zagreus smiled. The song, that damn song, seemed to play louder Thanatos’s head. What were the words of it? Did it matter? Why was it louder now, but less clear?

Zagreus was talking, asking him a question: “So, do you think you would?”

“What?”

“Look back. If you had been Orpheus, would you have looked back?”

“Oh, well. I don’t know.”

“Me neither. Seems like a pretty simple task with a high reward, don’t you think?”

Thanatos nodded. Seemed so. Then again, sometimes things that seem so simple prove to be the most difficult. 

“Alright, I need to trade in some fish, thanks for the help back there?”

“Of course,” Thanatos said as he watched Zagreus trot off, waving to Achilles on the way. 

He, he thinks, understands. He knows, actually. If it was Zagreus behind him, he would have to turn back. 

He would have to know. Could he be faulted for that? 

[raw-lesbian-energy]

Carnival of Spores

[Image description: Anonymous said

Fic idea: Sent by Andrias to Earth, Apothecary Gary causes a small bit growing spore zombie outbreak while Anne, the Plantars, and Caroline rush to stop it as each of them gets infected one by one.]

FIRST PROMPT WITH CAROLINE IN IT OKAY BIG MOMENT- But thank you so much for the prompt anon, this was a really clever idea!! I did put a little spin on it, but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless!!

——

Summary: A strange carnival rolls into town and the gang goes to have a day off, only for them to discover the true nature of the place.

Fandom: Amphibia (The Wild Soul AU)

Pairing: None

Features: Self-Insert

Word Count: 1,500

Warnings: None

—————————————————————

“Carnival! Carnival! Carnival!”

Anne, Polly, and Sprig chanted excitedly in the back seat as Caroline drove, pumping their fists in the air. Caroline chuckled at their enthusiasm, while Hop Pop seemed a little uneasy.

“I don’t know, Caroline.” He said. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“Hop Pop, you have a bad feeling about everything.” Caroline replied, glancing at him briefly. “It’s just a carnival; it’ll be fine.” Hop Pop didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed in worry as he stared out the window. Caroline picked up on it quick, letting out a small sigh.

“Alright, tell you what;” she said, “first sign of real danger and we’re out of there. Okay?” Hop Pop turned his gaze to her, his expression softening as he nodded. Shortly after, the young woman turned off the street and into the carnival parking lot, finding it was already pretty full.

“Dang, word spreads fast, huh?” Anne commented, looking around at the mass of cars. Murmurs of agreement came from Polly and Sprig, while Hop Pop still looked uneasy.

“I don’t know; maybe we should-” he tried, only for Caroline to put one hand over his mouth.

“Up up up, we’re not backing out.” She told him. After a few minutes of searching, they managed to find a spot and parked, climbing out and making their way to the gate.

“Whoa, this place is huge!” Sprig said in awe, eyes shining as he stared at the carnival before him. It was brightly lit with all different colours, and various exciting rides could be seen around the area.

“Dude, check out that roller coaster!” Anne called, pointing at a tall roller coaster at the other end of the park. This caught Caroline’s attention too, an excited smile forming on her face. Hop Pop, on the other hand, was looking around for signs of anyone else, but found the area they stood in to be empty.

“Place looks a little…deserted, don’t you think?” He commented. “Seems a little suspicious.” Caroline shot an annoyed glare his way, but before she could speak, someone else did.

“Welcome, welcome!” A voice suddenly spoke behind them, startling the group. They all spun around to see a small man standing behind them, being only slightly taller than Hop Pop. However, he was wearing a top hat that made him look twice his height, which was a deep purple colour and matched a nice suit he had on.

“The name’s Larry!” He introduced himself. “I’m the owner of this fine little carnival. It’s a pleasure to have you all here!”

“Oh, thank you!” Caroline spoke up first, relaxing and stepping up to meet him. He had a somewhat unsettling grin as he looked up at the young woman, his head tilting just slightly. Hop Pop felt something gnawing at his mind; a feeling that he knew this man from somewhere.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely young lady!” Larry said, adjusting his hat just slightly. Caroline raised her eyebrows, not expecting such a statement out of nowhere.

“Oh, uh-” she started, only for Hop Pop to step in between the two.

“Don’t even try to make advances on my second adopted granddaughter.” He said sternly. “She’s much too young for you!” The sudden outburst caused Larry’s smile to falter, as well as Caroline to give him a rather confused look.

“Hop Pop, I’m twenty, I can handle myself.” She told him. Hop Pop didn’t budge.

“Nope, no way.” He replied. “We’re leaving right now. Come on, everyone back to the car.” A chorus of protests rang out from Sprig, Polly, and Anne, which led to Caroline finally putting her foot down.

“Okay, that’s it!” She snapped, stepping in front of the old frog. “Hop Pop, you have done nothing but be paranoid and pessimistic, and we haven’t even been here for five whole minutes! You keep acting like every single thing here is out to get us, and even though I’ve lived here for twenty years, you treat me like I���m some helpless little-OW!” Her rant was cut off as she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck, turning to see just what had caused it. There, sitting in Larry’s hand, was a small blue beetle with a glowing purple mushroom growing out of its’ head.

“What the- the hell is that?!” Caroline snapped. Hop Pop’s eyes went wide.

“That’s the mind-controlling mushroom from back in Wartwood!” He yelled, pointing at the bug. Now it was Caroline’s turn to panic.

“Mind WHAT?!” She hollered, managing the sentence just before she felt her mind go blank. Her body stumbled for a moment, lurching forward before she regained her footing and straightened up. Her eyes now glowed with an eerie purple light, and the others could see tiny purple mushrooms starting to grow from her head.

“CAROLINE!” The four cried in unison. Larry let out an evil chuckle, drawing their attention to him as he took his hat off to reveal a massive purple mushroom underneath.

“We meet again, old frog!” He announced dramatically. “You thought you could get rid of me, but I’ll always find a way to survive!”

“Oh, that is nasty!” Polly exclaimed, cringing at the sight of the giant mushroom.

“Let Caroline go, you creep!” Anne snapped. Larry turned her gaze on them, grinning madly as his eyes started to glow in the same eerie purple that Caroline’s were.

“On the contrary,” he said, stepping forward, “I think I’ll be keeping her. Just like the rest of the humans I’ve tricked! Assemble, my minions!” At his call, the sound of hundreds of footsteps made their way towards them, revealing an army of mind-controlled humans. All of them with the same purple eyes and small mushrooms growing out of their heads.

“I told you kids we shouldn’t have come here!” Hop Pop shouted.

“Not the time!” All three kids yelled back, shooting him the same annoyed glare. Larry had a malicious grin that was ear-to-ear, and setting the bug on his shoulder, he pointed at Anne and the Plantars.

“Get them!” He commanded. Caroline, being the closest to the group, rushed in and tackled Sprig to the ground. The small frog yelped in alarm as the taller woman pinned him, growling in an almost animalistic manner as a strange purple liquid dripped from her mouth.

“Sprig!” Anne leapt in to save her little brother, charging into Caroline and sending the both of them stumbling. Sprig remained lying on his back for a moment, but when he sat up, his eyes were purple.

“Sprig, no!” Hop Pop cried, but it was no use. The spores had seeped into his brain, rendering him stuck under the mushroom’s mind control.

“Hop Pop, we gotta run!” Polly shouted. Hop Pop looked around at the crowd closing in, seeing Anne still fighting with a mind-controlled Caroline.

“Anne! We need to go!” He hollered. Anne looked up as Hop Pop called her name, though this proved to be her fatal mistake as Caroline seized the opportunity and sunk her teeth into Anne’s arm.

“OW!” Anne screeched at the bite, tearing her arm away and seeing it covered in the same purple gunk. Before she could even try to wipe it away, it seeped into her skin, leaving only the mark of Caroline’s teeth there.

“Oh, this is not gonna end well.” She muttered, her stare going blank before her eyes turned purple.

“NO!” Hop Pop cried out as Anne became a mushroom-zombie, stepping back when she and Caroline both got to their feet and started walking towards him.

“Hop Pop, this would probably be the time to run!” Polly snapped him back to reality, tapping on his forehead. The old frog was quick to turn and run, only to find the exit was blocked by a wall of mind-controlled humans.

“It’s a dead end!” He exclaimed. Larry let out an evil laugh, approaching from behind and cornering the last two Plantars.

“Nowhere to run, Hopediah!” He mocked. “And now, I shall take over this city and rule the human world!” His mad cackle rang throughout the carnival as the mushroom-zombies closed in, leaving Polly and Hop Pop with nowhere to run.

“This is it.” Hop Pop muttered gravely. “This is the end.” The world around him soon became nothing but a glowing purple haze, the groans and mad laughter of Larry blending together until all fell silent.

——

GASP!

Hop Pop snapped upright in bed, a cold sweat on his forehead as he gasped for air. He looked around in a panic, taking a moment to get his bearings before he realized he was in the spare bedroom at Caroline’s house.

“It was just a dream.” He panted, a wave of relief washing over him. “Oh, it was all just a horrible dream.”

“Hey, Hop Pop!” Caroline’s voice suddenly called from downstairs. “We got tickets to an exclusive carnival! Do you want to come?”

Hop Pop froze, his left eye twitching before he screamed.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

[subscribe2technoblade]

This is for the cataclysm au by @smallm0th bc it lives fuckin rent free in my head. The gist is the bloodvines have completely taken over the smp, dividing everyone into two factions: the Eggpire and the Settlement out in the tundra.

~~~~~~~~~

Technoblade was consistently awoken just before dawn with the screams of a thousand tortured souls ringing in his ears.

TECHNOLAAAATE!!

He simply grunted and rolled over in bed.

Technolate Technolate Technolate! The voices chanted.

“Techno, mate, you coming?” A much more welcoming voice penetrated the cacophony. Techno just groaned in response.

Phil! Hii Phil! Dadza!! At least the voices weren’t screaming Technolate anymore. Techno swung his legs off the bed and sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Philza pushed a hot mug of coffee into his hand.

“Sun’s coming up, we best get moving.” Phil didn’t seem much happier to be awake at such an ungodly hour, but he was at least fully dressed. Techno took a sip of the coffee and grimaced.

“Mornin’.” He mumbled.

“Sleep well?”

“Eh.”

“Yeah… come on, mate.” Phil took Techno’s cape off the back of his desk chair and tossed it on the bed. Techno took another sip of coffee and stood. His attic bedroom was cold, but cozy. Phil descended down the ladder as Techno rummaged around for his gear. Underclothes, padding, armor, cloak, potion belt, tools- the methodical rhythm of suiting up slowly brought Techno to full consciousness. When he met Philza at the door to his house, his eyes were bright.

He surveyed the Settlement in the early dawn light. A few tents were still set up, but most had long since been replaced by small houses that matched the spruce and stone aesthetic of the tundra. Snow had fallen just last night, and it blanketed the Settlement in drifts of white. It wouldn’t remain quiet for long. When Techno and Phil returned from patrol the paths would be cleared and footprints from people walking to and from their labors would mar the smoothness of the snow. For now, though, it was peaceful. One could almost think it was utopian, if not for the tall blackstone walls that surrounded the settlement as a stark reminder that there were things outside to be feared.

Phil shouldered his own pack of tools and necessities and the two men headed to the gates. They didn’t speak as the snow crunched under their boots. At the gates, Jack and Niki stood on either side.

“Ready for mornin’ patrol.” Techno lifted a hand in greeting.

“Hey Techno, hi Phil!” Niki’s soft voice morphed into a yawn.

“When do you think you’ll be back this time?” Jack asked, reaching inside his jacket for his key.

“Probably late afternoon. Could be later if we find somethin’ interestin’.” Techno replied in his typical low drawl.

“If you’re back early just yell really loud and we’ll let you in.” Niki took out her own key and slid it into the lock. “Ready Jack?”

“Ready.”

“3. 2. 1. Turn.” The two turned their keys in unison and the gates ground open with the sound of pistons firing repeatedly.

“After you, Phil.” Techno swept an arm out with mock drama. Phil just laughed and walked through the gates.

The space outside the settlement had been cleared of trees long ago. Some of the forest remained 100 meters away from the walls, but it was buried under the bloodvines. Thick red tendrils thicker than Technoblade’s shoulders wrapped around the trunks and extended over the land. They came from all directions and grew over each other until everything was covered. Some sprouts had already begun poking through the fresh snow. A few mobs remained, wandering around, tripping over vines.

The gates closed behind Techno and Phil with the same loud sounds. They were sealed out.

Blood! Blood! Blood! The voices chanted in Technoblade’s ears.

“I’ll take the left, you take the right?” Phil rolled his shoulders and drew his axe.

“Let’s go.” Techno leapt forward with his sword drawn and put it through the head of a creeper before it could explode. Phil swung his axe in a wide arc, decapitating two zombies and a skeleton. Occasionally one of them would yell out a joke to the other, who would respond in kind. As the sun rose higher, the mobs started to burn, which made the job of collecting materials much faster. Once they piled the bones, string, gunpowder, and other useful resources by the gates to be gathered later, Techno and Phil swapped their weapons for scythes and began methodically clearing away vines.

“I guess all that farming came in handy after all.” Techno mused as he split a vine from its base in the ground. The plant started to ooze a thick red sap. Techno was careful not to touch his face in case some of it got on his hands.

“True,” Philza chopped through another one, “Bit different from potatoes though.”

“It’s the same thing, these just aren’t edible. Unless…” Techno eyed one of the glowing flowers sprouting from the vines. “No, no definitely not.” he shook his head and sliced another vine.

Omelette!! Eat the vines! No no don’t. Do it! Egg time! EEEE- the voices couldn’t seem to agree.

“Here’s that cave we found last time.” Phil hoisted a woven carpet of smaller vines to reveal a crevice in the ground.

“Eh we got plenty of ores last time, and I’m not really feeling minin’.” Techno shrugged.

“Then what’s the plan?” Phil struck a flint and steel to set the vines ablaze. They didn’t burn very well- mostly smoked and bubbled with more red ooze which blackened and popped in the heat.

Techno looked out over the vines.

“Techno?”

“I’ve been thinkin’.”

“That’s a dangerous phrase.” Phil crossed his arms.

“So uhhhhh do you remember the prison they put Dream in?”

“I never went, but I know it, yeah.”

“That thing isn’t going to be able to keep out the bloodvines.” Techno turned back to Phil. “They can break through obsidian.”

“Shit. You don’t think they’ll turn him?”

“Who knows? He’s been in there this whole time, dude’s probably gone insane by now.” Techno let out a huff of a laugh despite his lack of humor.

“Well fuck. What do we do?”

“See, I’ve got a plan. It’s not the best, and I don’t think the others will like it, but it’s somethin.” Techno shrugged and drove his scythe through another vine.

“Tell me.”

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Six

Aelin clicked on Rowan’s contact. want to get out of here? She made sure to keep her phone angled away from Manon, who was smirking next to her.

A moment later, he responded. I thought you’d never ask.

you’re not still pissy about me judo flipping you?

I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll just have to get you back for it. Aelin blushed at the implications.

“What, is your sweet boyfriend sexting you?” Aelin had almost forgotten Manon was there.

“Shut up.” we’ll see about that

I’ll leave now. You come in a few minutes.

alright

You sure you remember where I live?

yeah, i think so

Aelin heard Rowan’s voice distantly saying he was off. Not wanting Manon to put it together, she started speaking. “So, you don’t mind if I ditch you?”

“And have you spend the night lusting after some dude? No thanks.”

“You’re one to talk. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve gone to gay bars as your wingwoman.”

“That was only a few times and I am grateful, but I still get to tease you. It’s my job. Shouldn’t you be leaving now?”

“So anxious to lose my delightful presence?” Manon rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m off now.”

They walked into the living room to find Rowan already gone and Vaughan on his way out. Good, that would be a little less suspicious if several people were leaving. Aedion and Lysandra had rejoined the group. Manon said, “Aelin’s headed out to her secret boyfriend’s place, so looks like I’m stuck with you losers.” Yes, Manon was very genteel.

Everyone tried to get her to spill, but Aelin just said, “See you Monday.” Then she flipped them off as she walked out the door.

The drive was short, but Aelin was jittery, desperate to get her hands on Rowan. And she had unintentionally memorized his address.

She walked up the stairs to the second floor quickly. Aelin lacked the patience for an elevator ride right now.

Upon reaching the landing, she caught sight of Rowan leaning against the wall next to his open door. “You certainly got here quickly. So eager to-”

Aelin cut him off with a hungry kiss. His lips began to move against hers and he grabbed her, pulling her into his apartment. Rowan kicked the door closed, then pinned her to it. He used one hand to lock the door and the other to unzip her jeans. She grinded against his hand, bucking her hips forward.

Rowan pulled down her jeans, waited for Aelin to step out of them, then picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Aelin shrieked as he carried her to his bedroom.

“That’s what you get for judo flipping me.” The damned bastard was chuckling.

He tossed her on the bed, then swiftly unclothed himself. Rowan looked up to find Aelin had done the same, and was now lying seductively on his bed. She let her legs spread.

Rowan, panting now, climbed on top of her. She moaned as his hips pressed against hers. Neither one of them could get enough of the other. Both of their hands were roving accross the other’s body. Aelin’s tongue parted his lips.

Her hand drifted down to caress him, and Rowan groaned. He let Aelin push him off of her then move down to take him in her mouth. Rowan moaned Aelin’s name. Yes, she could get used to this.

-

Light was streaming through the curtained window. Aelin awoke to find Rowan’s arm around her. She was pressed into his side, fitting like a glove.

Aelin gently slid out of his grasp, then put on his shirt from the night before. It was so large, she nearly drowned in it.

Then she walked out to the kitchen. If he was going to carry her around like a sack of meat, she would feel no qualms about raiding his fridge.

Rowan walked out ten minutes later in another pair of sweatpants to find Aelin dressed in his t-shirt, devouring a bowl of cereal. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he said sarcastically.

“Thank you, I will,” replied Aelin. “Though I’m rather disappointed to find all this health junk. You need to buy some Fruit Loops.”

Rowan smirked. “Planning on eating breakfast here often?”

Aelin blushed. “Just in case.”

Rowan poured himself a bowl of the “health junk.” “Well, I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Aelin blinked, then smiled.

“Did you ladies really sign up for mixed martial arts?” he asked.

Aelin laughed. “Yes. Lys and I had been taking it for a while, and we convinced the others to join. And I still can’t believe you bet against me!”

“How was I supposed to know you’re a fucking ninja?”

Aelin laughed again, louder this time. “I like that almost as much as fire-breathing bitch-queen.”

“That was meant to be an insult when I came up with it.”

“That makes it even better.”

Aelin hadn’t felt so happy in a long while. They finished breakfast, then Aelin said she should leave.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Aelin asked.

“You should stay. It’s still the weekend.”

Aelin’s heart raced. “And if I were to stay, what would we be doing?”

Rowan’s sultry smile was answer enough.

-

Aelin pulled up at her apartment just past six o’clock. She had totally lost track of time, though she didn’t regret it. Rowan had spent the better part of the afternoon coaxing noises from her she didn’t even know she could make.

Upon entering, Aelin found Ansel at the table eating Chinese takeout. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back,” she said with a raised brow. “I got extra in case you did.” Ansel gestured to the other container of Chinese.

Aelin replied, “Thanks. I need to change first.” She was still wearing last night’s outfit. Again. This was becoming a habit.

When Aelin came back out in a t-shirt and yoga pants and sat at the table, Ansel just looked at her. Stared, like she was seeing deep into her soul.

“Okay, you’re going to have to stop that. It’s freaky,” Aelin stated.

Ansel sighed. “I’m working on my tell-me-all-of-your-secrets stare. Ugh, just fess up, will you?”

Aelin tried not to laugh. “No. Stop prying.”

“I know I blab a lot, but if I swear not to tell a soul, will you at least answer, like, some minor questions? I have nothing else to do with my life.”

Ansel looked so pathetic that Aelin hesitated. “If you won’t tell anyone, you may ask some things. I might not answer, though.”

Ansel immediately brightened. “Great. Okay, I’m assuming his name is a no. Mm, do you like like him?”

Aelin could only imagine if Ansel went and told the others, including Rowan, that she liked the dude. That would be humiliating. Ansel wouldn’t break her word, though. “Yes,” she answered firmly, surprising herself. She realized she did like Rowan a lot, though.

Ansel smiled. “Interesting. I can only assume he works at the office because of your secrecy, not to mention hooking up with him at an office party. Do I know him?”

Most everyone from the office went to the bar; this wasn’t a revealing question. “Probably.” Okay, definitely, but whatever.

“Is he good in bed?”

“Gods, Manon asked the same question. You perverts. Yes, he is very good in bed.” Aelin was tiring of the interrogation and also started to get nervous she might reveal something. “I’m done with the probing now. Want to watch Grease?” The two of them lived for old movies. They had seen Grease about a dozen times already. She knew the offer would be enough to get Ansel off her back.

“Sure. I’m not done with you, though.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. Then they spent the evening watching movies and gossiping about their friends. Luckily, Ansel seemed to have dropped the subject of the secret boyfriend for the night.

Yes, it could be troublesome to deal with her friends’ inclination to snoop, but she and Rowan would tell them if it got serious. Was it heading in that direction? At first Aelin had thought the attraction was purely sexual, but then they talked and laughed he made her heart flutter and Aelin wasn’t so sure anymore. The only question was whether Rowan felt the same about her.

Out of pure desperation, Aelin pulled out her phone. help im bored.

If Rowan was the type to use emojis, he surely would have sent an eye roll. He wasn’t though, and he annoyingly wouldn’t stop using correct grammar and punctuation. Prick. Only a minute after Aelin texted him, Rowan replied, What’s Ansel doing? Is she still at Fenrys’?

she’s currently laying on my lap sound asleep. not before finishing the fried rice though

Poor thing. Aelin could feel the sarcasm oozing out of that text. What do you want me to do about it?

be entertaining. tell a joke or something. im lonely

You’re a very needy person.

i am not

You certainly were today. Aelin blushed at that.

tell me rowan whitethorn is not sending me dirty texts! i should block you or something

Needy and overdramatic. No surprise there.

you need to work on your flattery skills

Fine, then, Your Majesty. You are the most genteel, sensitive, kind, and respectful person I have ever met. Please accept my sincerest apologies. Aelin snorted at this.

*sigh* you could at least try to say something accurate like awesome or fascinating or something. we all know im not nice

How true.

stop bullying me. ask me on a date

Is that an order?

yes

Would you like to go on a date with me?

hmm... i’ll have to think about it

Why do I even bother?

because im irresistible

I’m going to sleep now. Work tomorrow. You should too.

night

Goodnight.

Rowan was right; she should get some sleep. Even if she wanted to text him all night.

“Ansel, up.” Aelin poked her on the forehead. “I can’t get up with you snoring on my lap.”

Ansel was nearly impossible to rouse. Aelin settled the matter by shoving her off onto the floor, which earned her a severe scolding.

In bed, Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about Rowan. It got to the point where she couldn’t help but shove her hand under the waistband of her yoga pants, getting off with the help of the thought of his capable fingers.

Great. Now Aelin was just praying she wasn’t going to start blushing and batting her eyelashes at him. She wondered if he was thinking about her as he touched himself. Probably not. He was probably asleep, untroubled by thoughts of her.

Rowan Whitethorn was distracting Aelin from... well... everything. Maybe if she tried thinking about when they hated each other. Or when she judo flipped him. Yes, think of beating him up.

How was Aelin going to handle work tomorrow, being able to see him but not touch him? Rowan Whitethorn. Damn him.

[khaleesiofalicante]

I’m going to be honest. I was planning on reading this yesterday but I knew that if I started I would stay up until 3 a.m and I had school tomorrow 😂, but here I am:

“Rafael had all but screamed when Bapak had surprised him with the motorbike on his birthday '' It has only begun and I’m screaming!!!

“But Rafael had dressed up. He had even let Max paint his nails black.” I love Max and Rafael with my entire soul

“Max had a habit of ‘borrowing’ things and selling them on eBay.” I love that little shit and his mischievous 💙💙

Octavian was one of his closest friends. Okey but that friendship??? Love it

“Dude, college kids don’t give a shit,” Tavvy laughed. “You could walk into a lecture covered in runes, holding a seraph blade and they wouldn’t give you a second look.” “Cause they are chill?” “Yes. But mostly cause they are dead inside,” Tavvy chuckled. SJHDUEHISAM WHY IS THIS SO TRUE??

You should follow me on Instagram. My handle is simp_for_carstairs.” I’M LAUGHING SO FUCKING HARD 😂 😂 😂 “She is not wrong,” Lily nodded seriously. “I’m a Jem Carstairs fan first and a vampire second.” Me too bro

“I heard there is a dalliance between a shadowhunter and a warlock,” Lily went on anyway. WHAT THE FUCK??? I LITERALLY SCREAMED. AND I’M IN CLASS

“But people bothered anyway. People liked to bother about things that did not concern them.” I know this is of shadowhunters, but it really speaks of everyone

“Rafael was sure there was something more than friendship between them. But David was polite to a fault and Max was an oblivious little shit. So, obviously nothing had happened yet. Sometimes Rafe wanted to knock their heads together and ask them to just talk it out. But no, it wasn’t his place.” JSSUHDEWIMS. OK. if i continue to quote everything i won’t finish. Let's move forward

Me when i found who started the rumor: 🙃🔪 🔪

“What the hell? Come on, Rafael! Bros before…uh, girls.” I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING THIS HARD. MY DOG IS GIVING ME WEIRD LOOKS. A DOG!! Like...He makes fun of Max but he is also an oblivious little shit

“David and I added rosemary to this one,” Uncle Jace wiped his hands on his apron. “It has definitely improved the taste, hasn’t it?” I- I don’t know if this was on purpose but- I- Wow

“I am this close to kidnapping the twins from the academy and bringing them back home. I love Mr. Herondale to death but this is getting out of hand.” How can a line be so funny and beautiful at the same time?? 💙💙

“Empty nest syndrome,” Rafael chuckled. “I’m glad neither Max nor I had to leave home. My fathers are much worse.” He remembered his first sleepover at the institute. His parents had waited for “an excruciating hour” before crashing the institute and joining the sleepover themselves. HOLY SHIT THIS IS GIVING ME SO MUCH SEROTONIN THAT I’M ALREADY AFRAID OF THE ANGST

“David,” Rafael grinned. “Are you afraid of my father?” “What? No! He is just a regular person…who can throw me in the silent city any time he wants,” David rambled and then shook his head. “Where is Max?” He tried to sound nonchalant. But Rafael noted the way the other boy’s eyes fluttered every time he said Max’s name. Just the way a crooked smile appeared on his brother’s lips every time someone said David’s name. Idiots. YES THEY ARE😂😂

Ahhh yess. The angst is starting and it will break my soul. Guess I’ll keep reading.

WHAT. THE. FUCK??? HOLLY SHIT!!! I WAS EXPECTING ANGST BUT THIS??? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?? I LITERALLY STARED AT THE SCREEN CAUSE I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN IT WRONG!!! THE FUCK??? I JUST CAN'T PROCESS THIS.

“Do you people know Magnus could have destroyed the clave decades ago if he wanted to do that? EXACTLY. HE WOULD HAVE LET YOU DIE IF HE WANTED TO!!! I CAN’T.

“Of course you don’t see anything wrong with this,” Paige sneered. “It’s not like you have a problem with incest. SAY THAT ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL FIND A WAY TO GO THERE AND BREAK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR BONES!

You talk about warlock corruption but where all of you when Valentine exploited Jace and Clary? Where was this moral obligation when Valentine lied to his children and played with their feelings as if they were nothing but toys to be controlled and manipulated? I’m sick of shadowhunters victim blaming children instead of holding people like Valentine accountable.” EXACTLY. WHERE WERE THEY?

Ok, ok, I’m not ok but I'll just keep reading. I’m slightly traumatized but ok.

For the next thirty minutes, Max paced around the room, threatening to portal all the shadowhunters to hell. Then he went on about a plan to attack the cohort and portal them all to hell too. He kept talking about portalling people to hell. I feel him on a personal level!!!

“Rafael knew he had the option of not listening to what they had to say. But here is the thing about people, they don’t get to you. You get to them. They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams. And that was the worst part because all of it looks like a choice. All of it looks like your fault.” THIS!!!!

“He ran his hand through the boy’s blue curls. Max had his own battles to fight. But they had to fight together.”

NO. ANYTHING BUT MAGNUS CRYING BECAUSE THEN I CRY!!!

“Fuck everyone else,” dad growled. “They’ve hurt our family enough.” EXACTLY!!!

“He needed to survive this. So, he decided to go back to the place he had learned how to survive in the first place. He needed to go back home.” Okey, this was a lot and I need a moment and some therapy probably

“Camilla Alvarez.” Interesting

The texts are just *chef kiss*

“His father had done that. Alec Lightwood had helped Joaquin and his people create a new world in Buenos Aires.” I LOVE ALEC LIGHTWOOD

Okey, but all of that conversation with Rafe and Magnus was beautiful and now I’m crying

THE OUTFIT!!! MASTERPIECE

Blue banners when the lost return, the shadowhunter rhythm said. Rafael had returned home – and he was no longer lost. WOW. JUST WOW.

“I would like to propose that we include a provision on hate speech,” Rafael said. FUCK YEAH

Not to be dramatic, BUT HOLY FUCK!! All this Cohort moment really hits cause its what society is like

“This is unacceptable!” Paige Ashdown looked furious. “Lightwood, you can’t just keep bringing up new laws to protect your family.” “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t keep attacking my family, Paige!” the Consul Voice boomed across the hall. “And I’m not doing this to protect my own. My family happens to be one of the many you’ve victimized with your vicious prejudice.” LOUDER SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR

“I’m the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she said. “Next time, think twice before you quote the law at me.” Hello? Yes, I would like to request a seat at the Anjali supremacy cause that girl is such a badass

She turned to the Council. The Inquisitor looked like he was going to cry from pride. Rafael’s dad looked half terrified but mostly impressed. Lily was blowing kisses at Anjali. The other downworld leaders looked quite pleased.“Over to you Consul,” Anjali gave him a salute as usual – and then she was gone. “THAT’S THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Emma Carstairs yelled. “Goddamn, I wish Magnus was here to see this,” Uncle Jace grinned. “That was satisfying as hell.” “No worries, I recorded the whole thing!” Kit put up his hand.- THEY HAVE SUCH AN ENERGY

“He wasn't afraid. He still wanted to hold her. He realized he wanted to hold her even if it would set him on fire.” My heart, i just 💙💙💙

OKAYY. That was a lot of trauma, screaming, loving and hating. And it also came longer than expected but you can’t blame me!! I loved it soooo much, it was amazing as always

Now guess who has 10 assignments to deliver and hasn’t started them for spending all the time reading this?? YES, it's me, so I better get to work 💙💙

FIRST OF ALL WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS AND TESTS I AM GOING TO SET THE EDUCATION SYSTEM ON FIRE AND BUILD IT AGAIN FROM THE ASHES DO NOT TEST ME!!!

Also I am glad you enjoyed this. It is a very heavy chapter. So, do feel time to rest and recover.

I'll see you soon bebe 💙

[fishoutofcamelot]

Yves Montand's les feuilles mortes is Merwen as Gwen ages and becomes old, memories flitting in and out of her consciousness as Merlin tends to her last moments on her death bed, her hand caressing his cheek as she says the final goodbye. Merlin clutches into her hand tight, his shoulders tremored as he sobs, losing his last friend and lover.

Dude it’s MY job to make people sad about Merwen! If you keep this up, I’ll be out of a job!!! And I can’t afford that in this tragic fandom economy.

Ngl tho, you’re absolutely right about the vibes. Although if I might add, I also kinda get a reincarnation vibe from it too.

The scene: France, 1947. WWII is finally over. Merlin, or Michon Epinette as he goes by now, is walking down a wet cobblestone street. His face is sullen. As he walks, hands stuffed into his pockets and head bowed, flashbacks are interjected into his mind. Brief snippets of his time in Camelot - meeting Arthur, hanging out with the knights, saving the kingdom. But above all, his time with Gwen. All the memories and laughs and tears they shared together. 

The flashbacks increase in frequency the further along he comes, only now they’re all focusing on Arthur’s death, Leon and Gaius and Percival’s deaths, until only Merlin and Gwen remain. Until Gwen ages and dies too, until Merlin is left weeping over her dead body. But in none of the memories do any of their faces appear. The faces and appearances of his loved ones are just some of the many things he’s forgotten after all these years, much to his distress.

Merlin shakes his head to force the memories away, and enters a bar. It’s pretty empty. Everyone is fairly quiet aside from the clanking of glasses and occasional murmurs here and there - and on the stage, a slow, morose jazz performance.

He sits down at the bar and gets a drink, watching the performance and trying not to cry over how deeply the mournful lyrics speak to him. It’s the 1400-year anniversary of Gwen’s death, and it stings just as intensely now as it did back then.

The woman singing wears a yellow dress that is elegant yet simple, back exposed and black gloves deftly holding the microphone. Her own eyes are tearful, she herself affected by her own lyrics - Les Feuilles Mortes, now that he thinks about it - and if not for some impressive self-control then her elaborate makeup might have been running.

But looking at her face, her dark, gentle face and deep brown eyes, a most profound sense of deja vu settles into his gut. As if he should know her somehow. 

But Merlin has lived for many, many years, and has met many, many people. If he’s met her before, he doesn’t remember, and likely never will. And besides, it was probably nothing important.

Still, the clenching of his heart pulls him to her. As if something terrible will happen, as if he’ll suffer a loss worse than he can ever imagine, if he doesn’t hold her in his arms this very moment.

Instead of sweeping her up and never letting go, Merlin waits for the song to end, politely applauds, and then greets her as she sits down at the bar stool next to him. Another performer walks onto the stage in her place.

They speak in French as she asks if she’s seen him before, a puzzled look creasing her features. He says that he’s just got one of those faces, and reaches out his hand to shake hers. He introduces himself using his current alias, Michon Epinette, but his ribcage screams at him to tell the truth. To tell her that his name is Merlin. He ignores the impulse.

She calls herself Guinevere Laurent, and oh how his heart aches at the familiarity of it. Another Guinevere, just as kind and soft as his own had once been. He commends her performance, admits that it had made him cry, and she tells him it has that effect on people - especially those who have recently suffered a loss. 

Ms. Laurent asks him who he’s lost, then gets flustered as she apologizes for being so forward. He instead tells her that he lost a great deal of friends. Everyone he’s ever known and loved is dead now.

“The war?” she surmises.

“Yes,” he says, because while they’re not thinking about the same war it’s still true.

She sips from her cocktail glass. “I lost a great deal of friends to the war as well. My brother Elouan, my best friend Lazare, and my father Thomas. Normandy, all of them.”

He shrugs. “If they had to die at war, at least it was Normandy.” Then, flustering - “Oh no, I’m so sorry! That was so insensitive of me. I didn’t mean -”

Ms. Laurent - Guinevere - shakes her head. “It’s fine. You’re right, though. Normandy is...heroic. As good a place to die as any. I just...I just wish they hadn’t had to die in the first place.”

Merlin has nothing to say to that, so he doesn’t. And the two of them sit there at the bar counter, nursing their cocktails - which are, coincidentally, the exact same - and ruminate over their respective losses. Guinevere Laurent is likely thinking about the second world war, and Merlin is thinking about Camlann. And both of them are thinking about after. What happens next. Where they go from here, when everyone they care about is six feet under.

While the similarity in names is likely a coincidence, Merlin can’t help but feel drawn to this Guinevere too. She speaks and acts and feels so much like the one he lost that his chest burns with sorrow. But also, perhaps, with something else too. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Merlin ventures out his broken heart and cracks a joke, trying to lighten her spirits. For the life of him, he will never be able to remember what the joke is, but it does its job in making a tentative smile splash onto her face. 

Warily, with an uneven and rough voice, she murmurs out a joke of her own. He won’t ever be able to remember that one, either, but he laughs just as quietly and genuinely as she did.

After an hour their laughter has transformed into something loud and unending, and it fills up the entire bar with an orange, jovial mood. Other people are talking amongst themselves with more liveliness than they had before, and now Merlin and Guinevere are not the only people smiling in here. Even the scrunched-faced bartender is cracking a grin.

It feels familiar. It feels like he’s been in this situation before - laughing with someone as loudly as possible to chase away their mutual pains, until their desperation turns into sincerity and sincerity into passion. 

For one glorious evening, Merlin allows himself to exist in a fantasy world where Gwen isn’t dead, but sitting right next to him. It’s weird and wrong, for sure, but he can’t help pretending that Guinevere Laurent and Guinevere Pendragon are the same person.

The crowd raucously, drunkenly cries out to Guinevere for an encore, begging her to give them another song. She shakes her head and says she’s done for the night, and all her songs are too sad anyway, but the crowd remains insistent. 

Merlin nudges her shoulder with his own. “You can do this, Gwen.”

And for some reason, just locking eyes with him is enough for her to acquiesce.

She dusts off her dress and reluctantly shuffles onto the stage once more, and the current performer steps aside to let her have the microphone.

Guinevere discusses something with the people manning the instruments, and after a moment they appear to reach an agreement of some kind. 

As the music swells to life, she casts one final glance at Merlin. He nods encouragingly, and she nods back, then closes her eyes and begins.

“Je suis seul ce soir,” she sings in a soulful cadence.

He loses himself in the music, lets the medieval nostalgia consume him like a snake devouring a field mouse - and just as the snake’s venom strikes the mouse, so too does a heartbreaking realization strike Merlin.

He called her Gwen. He referred to Guinevere Laurent as Gwen, his Gwen.

But she’s not. She’s not his Gwen.

His Gwen is dead, and she’s not coming back.

Suddenly, the whole world flares harshly at him. The lights are too modern and bright, the music is too loud and lively, the crowd is too busy and young. And Guinevere Laurent stands on the stage, eyes closed as she sings from the heart. 

And it’s not Gwen. It’s not Gwen, it’s not Gwen, it’s not Gwen, and the reminder of this truth is a slap to the face. Gwen didn’t dress like that, didn’t speak that language, didn’t sing in French bars or drink cheap cocktails. 

Gwen died. She died in pain, and she died gasping for air, and she died pushing him away in fear because her senile mind could not recall who he was. She died afraid, surrounded by faces and places she didn’t recognize, tearfully asking for a brother who had been dead for decades.

But even despite with all the differences, Guinevere Laurent looks so horribly similar to Gwen, back when she was young and innocent. The similarities, the memories, are enough to shatter whatever shaky pieces of his heart he had managed to cobble together.

Merlin presses a trembling fist to his mouth as tears pierce their way through his eyes, clouding his vision and sapping his body of any resolve it might have had. 

He fumbles out of the bar to get away from it all, lest the agony bubble out of him like blood. The cold air stings his cheeks, but the bitterness of it provides a momentary distraction from the memories left behind in the bar.

Determined to find some other hole-in-the-wall at which to drink and forget forget forget, Merlin stumbles away, not even bothering to wipe away the curtain of tears shuttering his face.

But back in the bar, Guinevere Laurent begins to remember things. As the melody holds up her heart, as the fondness that ‘Michon’ had born within her chest lifts her ever higher, flashes of a distant life spark in her mind. 

A boy with an impish grin, stuck in the stocks but still shaking her hand. A young man with a colourful scarf, sitting on a hill and braiding flowers into her hair. A friend, back pressed to hers as they both hold swords and fight to defend their kingdom. A companion, holding her wrinkled hands and helping her get up the stairs.

The name whispers into her mind. Merlin.

But as the final notes of Seule Ce Soir  rumble to an end, as Guinevere opens her eyes in the hopes of soaking in the rays of her old friend’s presence, she finds no sign of Michon - Merlin - and instead a vacancy in his place. 

Thanks for the ask! <3

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch 28-34

“Alucard, you’re the laziest vampire on Mars.”

So, I’ll be wrapping up the “D” arc in this post.   Previously, we saw a squad of Millennium goons commandeer a British carrier.  Their leader, Lt. Rip Van Winkle, has a musket that shoots magic bullets that can change direction in mid-air.    Also, Integra cut her own finger and made Seras lick the blood off.    As for Alucard, he’s been binging medical blood and taking a nap.

This is all to set up a one-off gag where Alucard has a dream similar to the one Seras had back in Brazil, where she was visited by the spirit of her cannon, which looked a lot like the guy who played Lord Harkonnen in the Dune movie.   Not the new one, the one with Sting in it.    Not the wrestler Sting, the musician.  

I don’t know why, but the spirit of Al’s gun, the Jackal, is Bruce Willis, but then Bruce gets killed by another guy who looks like Muldoon from Jurassic Park?  Maybe?   I just googled Muldoon and he doesn’t quite look like I remembered, but there’s no point to any of this, so let’s just move on.  

Aboard the H.M.S. Eagle, now renamed the Alder by Milennium, Lt. Winkle has painted a swastika on the deck and she’s taking a nap in the middle of it.  Her team is all holed up inside, and they talk about how they’ll never be able to venture out in the sun again.   This seemed like a continuity gaffe to me, but then this one dude points out that unlike them, Winkle is a werewolf.   So that’s why she can go out in the sun and they can’t.  

Maybe the Hellsing Ultimate anime covered this, and I just missed it, but when I watched that series in 2016, I found it strange how there only seemed to be two werewolves in Millennium: The Captain, and Warrant Officer Schrodinger.   And yet, Schrodinger speaks of his fellow werewolves with some pride, as if there were more than just two of them, and it turns out that this was what he meant.    Rip Van Winkle’s a werewolf, and I’m starting to think Zorin Blitz must be a werewolf too.   

And that explains a few things, because the real inner circle of Millennium is those four characters, the Doctor, and the Major.   Their 1,000 soldiers are vampires, but their leaders are not.   Like the guy in this scene observes, Millennium’s vampire corps are “mere rookies” compared to the werewolves, and that’s why they’re the ones the Major put in charge.   

This also puts the Dandyman in context.   The Doctor seemed to have high hopes for the Dandyman, but he failed to put a dent in Alucard.   I never understood his confidence, seeing as Winkle and Blitz were stronger, but now it makes sense.   The Doctor’s been trying to perfect artificial vampirism for the last fifty-odd years.   Dandyman represented the most powerful vampire he could produce, and he paled in comparison to the real thing.    Millennium’s werewolves are far more capable, but I don’t know if the Doctor had anything to do with them.    Even if he did, his success with them is unrelated to his vampire research.   

Also, Rip just looks... different somehow.   Maybe I’m grasping at straws, but her design might be intended to evoke wolf-like features, as opposed to vampiric features.   Well, I’ll worry about that later.

In England, Sir Integra barges in on the British Navy HQ and all the officers there take offense. They seem to find the idea of vampires ludicrous, even though Hellsing is an official government agency and has been for over 100 years.   Their commander, Vice-Admiral Shelby Penwood, asks her to stay, but it’s like his subordinates don’t even notice this.   He’s a pretty weak leader, is my point.

The Navy insists on handling the Eagle crisis without Integra, so she lights up a cigar and observes them in action.   They send some helicopters to check out the carrier, but Winkle shoots them down with her magic bullet.   It quickly becomes apparent that nothing can get close enough to the Eagle without getting destroyed, and since the Navy won’t listen to Integra, she withdraws to her own HQ to consider a proper strategy.   

The fundamental problem for Hellsing is that they need to get Alucard or Seras aboard the Eagle in order to neutralize the threat, but vampires can’t cross running water.   A boat is out of the question because it’s too slow, and an aircraft would be shot down by the magic bullet.    But there is one aircraft that can get the job done...

So Integra arranges to launch a modified SR-71 Blackbird.     Comics fans will recognize this as the plan the X-Men used in the comics.   I don’t know if they still use it.    At some point it probably stopped being cool, but in 1999 it was cool enough for Hellsing.   Strictly speaking, the Blackbird in this comic was heavily modified by the RAF’s research and development teams, so it’s practically a whole other aircraft.   The main point, though, is that it’s a reconnaissance plane, capable of flying at speeds of Mach 3 and at altitudes of 16 miles.  Unlike Sir Penwood’s aircraft, this one can approach the Eagle high enough in the air to avoid enemy fire.

Below, Rip Van Winkle appears to sense Alucard’s approach and seems to have a panic attack over it.   Me, I’m just wondering why Hellsing wasted precious time having their cutesy logo painted on the tailfin of this plane.  

So how the hell does Alucard plan to get the plane down without getting shot at?   SImple, he doesn’t.    He just nosedives straight down onto the carrier, and what does he care if the plane gets shot to hell on the way down?   

A lot of this arc is just badass shots of this crash landing, and the ensuing carnage.   I’m skipping a lot of beautiful artwork, but there’s really nothing going on beyond “Alucard crashes his plane onto an aircraft carrier.”

Once he hits the ground, Al releases his restraints to Level 1, the same level he used against Luke Valentine, and he goes to town on Milennium’s soldiers.    Rip Van Winkle keeps whimpering about Zamiel, which is a reference to Der Freischütz , a German opera about a huntsman with a musket that fires seven magic bullets.   The first six will hit whatever the huntsman aims for, but the seventh belongs to the Evil One, Zamiel, who can guide it wherever he pleases.   

Winkle flashes back to a coversation she had years ago with the Major, who recognizes her musket as a reference to Der Freischütz, and he warned her to remember how the opera ends: With Zamiel coming to claim the soul of Kaspar.   Rip is terrified because it doesn’t take a genius to see how Alucard’s attack might resemble this moment.   

After her men are all destroyed, Rip gathers enough composure to put up a fight, but her magic bullet can only hit Alucard, not kill him.   Eventually, he just catches the thing in his mouth, neutralizing her power entirely.   

Then we proceed with what I consider the most gruesome scene in the whole story.   Alucard starts by impaling Rip through the heart with the barrel of her own musket.

Then he sprouts all these extra hands and grabs hold of her like some horrible nightmare-spider or something.   

Then he starts licking up the blood from her wound, really taking his time with it.    He’s stuck on this boat, after all, and there’s no one else alive to distract him.   

And finally he goes for the jugular, as it were.   

Aboard his zeppelin, the Major is watching all of this.   I guess Schrodinger’s power to be anywhere makes it possible for them to keep tabs on what’s happening.   All he has to do is bring a video camera along.   The Doctor prepares to activate Winkle’s self-destruct chip, but the Major forbids this.   They used this device on Jan Valentine and the Dandyman, but only because they failed in their missions.   As for Rip Van Winkle, the Major declares her mission a complete success.    He orders his men to salute as they watch her die slowly at the hands of Alucard.    A twisted honor, to be sure.

And with Winkle finally dead, Alucard just laughs up a storm.  

Here’s the problem, he’s stuck on that boat now.  And Hellsing knew it would go like this when they sent him, but they didn’t have a choice.   Early into the crisis, Integra and Walter recognized the Eagle as a mere decoy, one that would distract them from the real threat, but they couldn’t ignore it, and now Alucard’s on the Eagle while Millennium’s true forces are heading for Great Britain.

So yeah, take a good look at Alucard, because we won’t be seeing him again for a while...

[slightlymore]

Pride | Part 2

Pairing: CollegeStudent!Doyoung (main), Y/N, CollegeStudent!Johnny  Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Crack | Prob fluff if you wear magnifying glasses Warnings: Swearing | +18 in general Words: 4.9K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |  Part 8 THE END

Doyoung couldn’t believe he actually said that. 

You were standing there, with your lips slightly parted as if in awe, looking at him, incredulous. He didn’t know who looked the most shocked between the two of you. He felt like an idiot. You obviously didn’t want to go on a date with him. Why did he say that? Why was he like that? What was going on with him? “I mean, to hang out” he added quickly as if correcting the previous statement. It somewhat became even worse. As if he was begging you to hang out with him. 

“Ah,” you said after a little while, still unsure. Doyoung felt like hyperventilating. Your face transformed into that face one makes when feeling sorry or when about to reject someone. Why would you want to hang out with him? You were probably the type of person to accept just to not be rude and he hated it. What the fuck was he thinking? “Or not,” he said after a moment finding it unbearable to wait like that, in front of you.  He has never done anything like that before. It was terrible. He has promised to himself to just let you go and stop thinking about you and now there he was, asking you on dates. For fuck’s sake.  But then he saw your lips move. You were about to finally open your mouth and reply. In the same moment, your phone ringed. Doyoung saw how your eyes widened a little and he could almost feel your impatience to go and pick that up but compelling yourself to stand there. “You can go and take that,” he said and he didn’t even finish the last syllable that you were already almost running to the living room. His heart stung. “I’ll call you, Doyoung!” you said as a goodbye. “Sure” he replied, but you probably didn’t hear him. “Call me” he added in a whisper even though you never exchanged phone numbers. 

You knew it was stupid. It was even more stupid to show it to Doyoung after he saw your condition the day before. But you couldn’t help yourself. Johnny was still your friend. Thanks to the morning clarity you could see how badly you reacted yesterday towards him sleeping with another girl. What was the problem? It’s not like he was in love with her. He would still be by your side as he was always had.  “Hey” you said after breathing in and out to calm yourself. “Heeey” Johnny said. He was in a good mood. You smiled. “Are you able to stand?” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes even if he wasn’t able to see. “I’m perfectly fine. I didn’t drink that much” you explained.  “Good. Doyoung took good care of you,” he said.  Your smile flattered a little. “You knew he was taking me home?” you asked.  “Duh. What kind of friend would I be if I let you be taken by random people without worrying about you?” he asked. 

You felt confused. That’s why he didn’t call or text. He didn’t need to. He already knew and didn’t need to worry too much. It’s not like he was too busy. He thought about you and your safety first. Then he thought about that girl. Doyoung made it look as if Johnny was unaware of your whereabouts and didn’t care about you. He lied. You felt your guts starting to boil a little. “I thought Doyoung did it all by himself” you commented. “Oh no” replied Johnny, “he actually didn’t want to do it and I asked him to. He did me a favour” he explained. You nodded. It was obvious. You felt stupid. It was so obvious that your best friend would care about you more than about his hookup partner. It’s not like he forgot about you.  Johnny looked after you and worried that you arrived home safely. Doyoung made it seem as if he was a hero when in reality he didn’t even care about you at all. What a dick, you thought. Going on a date my ass. What was that? A cruel manoeuvre to laugh about you and make you feel stupid for having an unrequited love? You were getting mad. You were so ashamed that you thought badly about Johnny with a stranger as if Johnny hurt you. He didn’t hurt you at all. He just loved you as a friend and it was enough for you. You were just being dramatic about it. You and Johnny were still the most important people for each other. He still cared about you more than other girls. You didn’t call nor you texted and Doyoung wasn’t surprised at all. It was the first day of the new semester and he did his best to just stop thinking about you. Why did he even like you in the first place? He had no real reason. Your interactions were like one and a very bad one, to say the least. There was nothing, in particular, he liked about you. Next time he’ll see you he won’t look twice. This time for real.  But then he actually saw you. 

His heart did a whole gymnastic routine. For fuck’s sake. He had to close his eyes for a moment and breathe yet again. What a moron.

When he opened them he understood that you were coming towards him. “What you did was vile” you accused him when you got close enough.  He blinked a few times looking at you. Your expression was scary and your eyes furious. “What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to not comment on your word choice.  You crossed your arms on your chest and puffed your cheeks. Doyoung knew that you wanted to intimidate him but he found it adorable. He tried hard not to chuckle.  “You painted Johnny as the bad guy that doesn’t care about me and acted as if you wanted to take care of me when Johnny basically begged you for you to accept” you explained. 

Doyoung expected absolutely everything to come out of your mouth, besides that. “First of all”, he began with a low voice. 

“Also you didn’t tell me that he knew where I was or that he was worried about me” you talked again. “You made it sound as if he didn’t give a fuck, making me think badly of him” you added. “Let me speak” he replied. He was starting to get irritated as well. You scoffed. “First of all, I never painted him as the bad guy. I have no idea where you got that from. Second of all, it’s not true that he begged me to take you home and I refused” he said trying to keep his voice down as some curious eyes and ears started to get a little too invasive. “I talked to him. He said that” you interrupted him. “Let me finish” he warned you again. “And third, he actually didn’t give a fuck about you yesterday, okay? He was not worried. He didn’t know where you were, what were you doing and with whom. I said to him that you needed to go home and he just gave me the address. I didn’t refuse to do it. I was just shocked that he was so eager to give you off on the hands of a stranger so easily” he finished. You gulped a few times as he spoke. Your throat was dry. “Yeah, but he did warn you to be careful. That means that he does care and that he was worried. He told me that. He still cares about me” you talked again. Doyoung didn’t reply to that and just looked at you. His expression was a mask of disappointment. “Why are you doing this?” he asked you, this time softly. It threw you off guard. His eyes looked as if reading your mind and soul and you hated it. “What do you mean?” you asked as well. Doyoung tightened his lips in a line and crossed his arms on his chest as well. “Why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that he cares about you in a way that is beyond friendship?” he asked. When he saw your eyes get wide, as big as to almost see his own reflection in them, he knew that he hurt you irremediably. But could he just shut up and let you suffer like that again? He wasn’t even doing it for himself anymore, was he? It was just ridiculous to see you still so attached to someone that wasn’t interested, defending him and lying to yourself that he actually cared about you in ways he didn’t. “I’m not trying to do that” you replied. “You just painted him as a bad friend, which he is not, and I wanted to make sure that you knew that” you added. Your eyes hurt as if trying to hold in tears. You weren’t about to start crying in front of this dude. Not again. “He wasn’t a great friend though, was he? He left you alone the whole night while getting his dick sucked. If he were a good friend he would have let that girl go, and took you home by himself instead of asking the guy who took care of you the whole night and that actually offered himself first making sure to let your friends know your condition and your whereabouts” Doyoung spurted out. 

He was being cruel. He knew that. But he couldn’t just handle this situation in a more diplomatic way. Putting Johnny under a bad light wasn’t his intentions at all but he couldn’t agree and say to you that he was an amazing guy and just encourage you to continue crushing on him that way. “I thought that after yesterday night, you would have decided to change something about this situation” Doyoung added. You wanted to slap him. Only because he assisted at one of your breakdowns it didn’t mean he could just butt in and tell you what to do. It was mortifying. Your rational side of your head knew that he was right and you hated it. “Mind your own fucking business” you warned him as you finally found your voice. Then you just turned around and left. Doyoung looked at your back going further away until you turned a corner. He felt like dying. 

“What do you think if we went out tonight?” Johnny asked you as you were walking to grab lunch. He didn’t know about your fight with Doyoung and he didn’t have to. You would need to explain too many details that you’ve done your best to keep secret all of this time. You imagined him laugh at your worries. Of course, I care about you, Y/N. I didn’t worry much because I know that you and Doyoung like each other and I thought you were having fun, there was no reason for me to butt in, he would say. I don’t like him, you stupid idiot, I like you! you wanted to scream. “On a Monday?” you asked, even if you didn’t care about not sleeping a whole night if it meant hanging out with him.  “We have an afternoon class tomorrow” Johnny explained. “Also, I want you to meet someone,” he said after a moment with a smile. He looked almost shy. You stopped. He walked a step ahead then stopped as well. “Are you dating that girl?” you asked with a feeble voice. Johnny smiled as a reply glad that you understood so easily. “I mean, it happened all very fast and I don’t want to talk too soon, but…” he didn’t complete the phrase. “What’s wrong?” he nudged at you with his elbow seeing you shocked and silent. “I’m sure you’ll like her. She’s great. We’ve talked about you a lot and she’s excited to meet you”. You felt like crying. You felt like falling on the ground and screaming. You were sure she was very great indeed if Johnny, the mighty Johnny, Johnny fucking Suh, decided to date her. And that was the most painful thing. The fact that she was probably amazing and you had no reason to hate her. She deserved Johnny and he deserved someone like her. It finally happened. You lost him.  Johnny sighed as you wouldn’t crack a word. “We can bring Doyoung along as well” he tried to talk you into it, assuming you were just nervous.  You wanted to break something.  “Yeah, sure, why not?” you tried to smile. 

You didn’t expect Doyoung to show up. “Are you here to laugh at me?” you asked him while walking towards the local McDonald’s. It was a weird choice but the girl smiled so brightly when saying she craved fast-food that no one had the heart to object. She was just as you imagined her to be. Johnny asked you, whispering, what your opinion was, but you felt so empty inside that you couldn’t comment the way she deserved. “She’s just perfect, Johnny” you simply managed to say, because that was what he wanted to hear. He smiled sweetly, glad that you approved and turned back to her. You ended up walking behind them, forced to stare at how he wrapped her shoulder with his arm and how she wrapped his waist with hers. Doyoung was silently walking with hands in his pockets beside you. He didn’t reply to your question. “I’m sorry for yelling at you” you talked to him again after a while. “It’s alright” he replied. 

You sighed. How many times have you apologized to him already? Doyoung saw the worst in you in just two days and you already had a full-on fight, you had to thank him multiple times and apologize to him and it was the most you’ve done with basically a stranger. “I’m sorry as well. I should have chosen my words more wisely” he added. “Yes,” you agreed. He rolled his eyes at you. “I was right though, wasn’t I?” he asked, comfortable enough to lightly joke around. You saw how nervous he looked while approaching you, sure that you were still mad at him. You felt sorry. He didn’t deserve any of this.  “Yes, but you were still a dick about it” you replied with a little smile. “I still think you have no right to give off opinions” you added lifting up your chin at him. He looked at you for a second then smiled back and went silent again. You didn’t expect that. You felt like bickering with someone. You were trying to stab him a little but he didn’t care about your darts at all. He was feeling weirdly distant and sad. What was he so sad about? “Are you alright?” you asked him. He looked at you again, slightly surprised. “Yeah, why?” he asked. You shrugged. “Just checking” you replied. You walked a few steps in silence. “Are you alright?” he asked. It was the first time he alluded to the Johnny situation. His voice went a little quieter and deeper. He had never asked you how you felt before, not on the swing, not while carrying you home, not the morning after. Maybe because it was obvious before. “Do I look alright?” you asked him. He analyzed you thoroughly even if it was a rhetorical question. “Objectively, yes,” he said. “You’re good at hiding” he commented. You smiled at him as if guarding a secret you both were aware of. “I’ve learned from you,” you said. I’ve learned from you. You learned from him. To hide. To hide feelings. You could see his feelings? You knew he was hiding feelings? What does that mean? What was that? He was panicking.  When Johnny called him, Doyoung thought he wanted to fight or something. Then he asked if he was free tonight and Doyoung thought he wanted to beat him up in a parking lot. But then he mentioned a double date and Doyoung felt something he couldn’t describe with words. Shock, happiness, agonizing pain thinking about you, relief, anxiety.  “You good?” Doyoung heard Johnny’s voice at his right. “Yeah” he replied. He realized everyone was eating their food while he just stared at it. He grabbed his burger and bit down. He was not feeling hungry at all. Looking at you, he realized he wasn’t the only one.  Johnny seemed like a pretty smart guy and Doyoung couldn’t understand how oblivious he was to the situation. You were so depressed trying to eat your almost cold fries what he felt like screaming. Why didn’t you even confess your love to Johnny? What if he would have dated you? What if Johnny secretly liked you and never said it because you thought you didn’t like him back just the way you were thinking? Doyoung hated the rational part of himself that only thought about the best objective outcome instead of his own desires but he hated seeing you like that more than he hated his own unreciprocated feelings. Because even if it looked like Johnny wasn’t a problem anymore, he still was since you were so in love with him. That’s why Doyoung couldn’t feel joy at all, because nothing changed for him. He knew he could easily just insert himself into your life but would that be fair for both of you? Would it be positive to make you forget about your love so forcefully? Would he be able to stay with you knowing that you were thinking about another man? He felt nauseous. And you probably did feel that way as well as you suddenly got up. 

"I’m going to the bathroom,” you said, walking hurriedly. 

Johnny looked at you surprised. 

“Do you think she’s okay?” he asked to no one in particular.  Doyoung sighed.  “Maybe her stomach is a little upset,” said The Girl. 

“I need to go and wash my hands,” Doyoung said getting up as well. Johnny looked at his clean hands and raised an eyebrow but couldn’t make a comment since Doyoung was already walking through the bathroom doors. 

He stopped in the little corridor and peeked inside the ladies restroom. A woman was standing in front of the mirror. She looked at him as if he was a pervert. “Do you need help? The men’s one is behind you” she said. Doyoung ignored her.  Were you really having an upset stomach or were you just dramatically crying on the toilet? 

Fuck it, he thought while stepping into the bathroom. 

“Hey, young man!” the woman from before said to him. He ignored her again. 

“Y/N” he called. There was only one occupied toilet. You didn’t reply but he could hear some sniffling. 

“I’m going to call someone to take you out if you don’t-” the lady started to talk again. 

“Just shut up for a second” Doyoung replied without looking at her. “Y/N, let’s go home” he added talking to you.  He waited for a few seconds.  The door then opened slowly revealing your red nose and eyes. Doyoung sighed.  “I can’t believe you came to the ladies restroom. What are you thinking?” you commented getting out, trying to be snarky, as if you weren’t crying for the Nth time in front of him.  Doyoung was about to reply sarcastically as the only way he could communicate, especially in those types of sad and awkward situations, but the words died in his throat. 

Because you suddenly hugged him. 

Well, it wasn’t really a hug, you just grabbed his waist, almost knocking him down, and hid your face on his hoodie, sobbing. Doyoung blinked a few times not knowing what to do with his arms. He was T-posing in a McDonald’s ladies’ bathroom while a girl was crying on his chest. It was almost funny. Slowly, though, he touched your back and patted on your shoulders to calm you down. 

“Let’s go home” he whispered again. 

You sniffled and separated yourself from him. Then you blew your nose with toilet paper and looked up at him. 

“I’m a mess,” you said looking briefly at yourself in the mirror. 

“Yeah” he replied even if he thought you were cute. “It’s fine though, let’s go,” he said grabbing you by your arm. You let yourself be carried away. 

“Hey” you heard Johnny as you approached the table. Doyoung took your jacket and made you wear it. 

“What happened?” Johnny talked again. He looked very worried and it made you feel even worse. Even his girlfriend looked preoccupied. 

“She has very painful cramps right now” Doyoung answered for you putting your bag on his shoulder. “I’m taking her home,” he said. 

You looked at Doyoung at the same moment Johnny looked at you. 

“Damn” he commented. “I’m so sorry,” said the Girl. “Yeah, that sucks, Y/N” added Johnny. 

“It’s fine” you played along. “I just need some rest” you nodded as to convince them and they nodded back.  “Get well soon,” The Girl said. “See you later, ” added Johnny.  “Okay, bye,” Doyoung said, not being able to stand himself the situation. You walked away quickly as he dragged you, then you remembered that you had to act as if in pain and slowed down a little. Johnny stared at how your fingers were intertwined with Doyoung’s ones until you left. 

_____

You were still holding hands. There wasn’t any reason to do it but it gave you some emotional support so you didn’t let go. Doyoung looked as if it didn’t bother him either. 

The night was cold but the weather was good enough to have a slow walk. 

“About that date” you started. 

Doyoung winced. “Don’t worry about that. I was joking” he said. 

“I mean” you added, “maybe we can hang out tonight” you went on. 

Doyoung didn’t say anything for a few moments and just walked staring at the dark sidewalk. 

“What I wanted to say is that if I go home my roommates are going to ask questions and I don’t feel like talking right now” you explained. You didn’t want to seem as if you were begging him to hang out with you. 

Doyoung raised his gaze. “Yeah, alright” he replied. 

You sighed awkwardly. You were still asking him for a favour. Since you met him he’s only been doing stuff for you. 

“But I don’t want to be a burden. We can go separate ways if you want to. You don’t have to-” you started to mumble as to excuse yourself. 

He tugged at your hand as to make you shut up and looked at you. 

“It’s fine. I want to” he explained. 

“Ok,” you whispered. 

Then you walked in silence. What a depressing night, you thought. 

“We can watch a movie” you talked again after a while. 

“Yeah” he agreed. 

Then silence again. 

“Are we going to the cinema, or-?” you asked as you were walking towards the opposite direction from where the movie theatre was. 

“We’re going to my apartment” he commented as if it was obvious. 

You blushed and hoped he wouldn’t see. You had no reason to feel shy about it but just the wording made you feel embarrassed. Doyoung didn’t look like the type of guy to try and kiss you or worse (!) without you being comfortable and definitely not after seeing you cry about another man, but still, you’ve never been alone to some guy’s house before, besides Johnny’s. But Johnny was your best friend. Doyoung was a stranger.  Okay, not true. He was an acquaintance. Alright, you could even call him a friend. But he was still a guy. He did ask you on a date, didn’t he? You weren’t that naive. What, you thought, what if you ended up sleeping together? God. You found yourself feeling a little hot.  But then you thought about it for a moment and something inside of you shifted. Or for lack of better words, died. And you didn’t care anymore about anything. So what if you slept together? So what?

His apartment was very nice. Like, very very nice. You walked in slowly and looked around in awe.  “So,” you started. “you’re rich?” you asked while he took your jacket.  He chuckled then breathed in as if not knowing what to say. “I guess you could say that” he replied.  “I mean, you even live alone as a student. That must be great” you commented while looking at his shelves. A few books, family photos, some knick-knacks. He went away then came back with some water. He handed it to you.  You looked at his hand and laughed before accepting the glass.  “Why do you always give me water?” you asked. But you knew the answer to that. Because you were always crying. How embarrassing. 

“What do you think of her?” you asked following him to the couch. His eyes got shiny as he turned the TV on. 

“I don’t have any opinion. I don’t even know what’s her name” he answered. You knew that he probably thought you were pathetic but you really needed to talk about it with someone.  You sighed tucking yourself under the soft blanket he retrieved from his side of the couch.  “You always say you have no opinions but I can see how judgemental you are. You can be honest about your thoughts with me” you commented. It was meant to be a light joke but Doyoung looked at you with a weird gaze. 

“You’ve said that before as well” he replied. “That I hide stuff” he added. 

You looked back at him and shifted your body weight to make yourself more comfortable. 

“I mean, I am very transparent, aren’t I?” you asked laughing. “Like, embarrassingly transparent. You’re just very reserved. You could be angry or depressed right now and I wouldn’t be able to tell” you explained further. 

Doyoung didn’t comment on that. 

“That’s a skill that comes handy in situations like before” you talked again with a smile. You didn’t mean to offend him and you wanted to express that you thought it was cool. 

“I want to be like that as well,” you said. 

________

Doyoung’s heart was about to burst. He was still holding your hand and you were holding his, and you didn’t indicate as to wanting to let go and for a moment he let himself think that you were on a date together. He saw you shivering a few times and rationally he could tell it was kinda cold but his body felt so hot that he felt like taking his clothes off. He didn’t expect you to actually follow him. He imagined you getting out of that place and just go home. But you held his hand and just walked into the direction he took. It was definitely because you couldn’t think straight. You were overwhelmed and confused. But he didn’t have the heart to be like “I’m going home right now, where are you going?”. 

So he just walked. 

Then you asked him to hang out with you. Were you really in the mood to spend time with him? Was it to just not think about Johnny? He was comfortable, you said before, and he was there. It was just natural for you to use him to your own advantage. He didn’t blame you for that.  He thought about how he would have been hurt by that outcome in other circumstances but at that moment he was feeling so tired about everything that he didn’t have any energy to be hurt anymore. Use me, he thought, just use me and get better. I don’t care. You were holding his hand and walking with him, not with Johnny and not with anyone else, and that’s what mattered. 

He was feeling pretty good while you chatted away on the couch, the movie long forgotten. Your whole attention was on him and even if a part of himself knew that it was your own coping mechanism to not think about Johnny even if for an hour, he let himself think that you were actually interested in what he was saying. That you chose him specifically and not because he was happening to be there.  And then when he saw you smiling at him that way he found himself not having any more words to say. He just stared at you staring back at him. You smiled even brighter sawing him suddenly silent.  “What?” you asked chuckling. But then he saw your pupils widening slightly and he knew that you understood. His breath grew a little irregular as you leaned in slowly and stopped as close as to let him breathe in your scent.  “Y/N” he said, almost whispering. It was meant to warn you. He wanted to stop whatever you were trying to do. But it probably sounded more like a prayer. Doyoung wasn’t sure himself what he meant with that. 

You looked at him in the eyes. His chest was aching so much. He was feeling as if underwater and your kiss was the only occasion to drink in the fresh air. 

And so you kissed him. 

It was weird but he couldn’t be present in the moment as much as his heart wanted. He felt like dreaming. It wasn’t real. He felt like grabbing air with his hands and trying to run when your feet were deep buried into the soil. 

You started off gentle, almost afraid, but that delicacy soon enough turned into something more. When he sensed you getting closer to him he didn’t stop his hands from sliding around your waist and you moved again. He heard you panting against his lips and his head was empty empty empty. 

When you straddled him he lost it. He probably whined when you sat on his lap and pressed your lips on his neck. You were warm and soft and he hugged you tight against him, wanting you closer and closer. He let you take off his hoodie, place your hands on his chest, bit down on his skin, and then, he finally looked at your face again. 

And he stopped. His breath suddenly calmed down. His head got clear. 

You looked back at him with empty eyes. He saw the moment when you understood that he caught you. 

“Is it a problem for you?” you asked. “Is this too much big of a favour to ask?” you added. 

Doyoung tried to breathe in and out. Of course. 

He knew. 

He knew until a second ago, until he felt your lips on his. 

God. 

He let himself go this way. He felt sick. 

He did think to himself that it was okay for him to be used but not this way. 

No, this hurt too much. 

How could he sleep with you when you were thinking about another man? 

“You don’t want this, Y/N. It’s not the right way to get over him” he whispered. His voice came out very gentle for once. You frowned. He could tell you were embarrassed and probably on the verge of tears. 

“I just want to get over it as soon as possible” you whispered back. 

“I know it’s wrong and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry” you added getting off him and sitting back on the couch. “I’m sorry” you apologized again. 

“It’s fine,” he said. He has been saying that for a long time now. 

But he wasn’t feeling fine at all. 

[smallstoriesiwrite]

Second choice Part 4

before I start heyyyyy sorry for the late fic I was traveling out of the country for family issues and almost spent a month there and trust me I wasn't happy nor my boss 😬

NEWAYS here is part 4 I wrote it in the span of 3 weeks. hopefully is good if not im so sorry :/

Reiner x f!reader , Tenya x reader

Summary: when Tenya decides to put his girlfriend second and she breaks up with him will he win her back or will her childhood lover win her love back and take her away to her hometown?

Warnings: fighting and cursing

some horrible spelling errors

part: 1 , 2, 3

Y/n pov:

“You really need to shut up at times Poc.” I said groaning

“Well it is true n/n. You and Rei are like the love story who always wins at the end.” Marcel spoke up

Sitting up more comfortable I look over to see Tenya look so sad. And at the same time I look up at Reiner who had a small smile.

Conversation went on within my childhood Friends and family as well with the Iidas.

Zoning out a bit I felt Reiner squeeze my hip for attention.

Looking up I hear Reiner say

“You zoned out didn’t you”

Nodding my head

“Can you repeat what you said please” I say

“Well we where all saying how much we miss you back in Marley and how lonely it is without you there. And Zeke talked to the higher ups and if you do come back you can graduate this year and work along side of us. Of course as a underground hero.” Annie said

I looked in awe

“Wait really?! If I go back with y’all like this week or month I graduate at the end of the term?!”

They all smiled and nodded

“You will probably be with the advanced kids because your going to UA and if the credits transfer correctly regardless or not you would graduate at the end of the term” Zeke explained

I looked over to my parents and they spoke up

“We know you don’t like the fame we get for our Industry. And as well you want to leave back to Marley. So it’s up to you my love. We have family out there or you can stay with your friends in the house they share.” My father spoke up

“Well I would love to go back but I don’t know. When do I have to make the decision Z?”

“Well n/n we need a answer by next weekend. You know how they get. This is a opportunity that they usually don’t have for transfers especially for almost ending the term.” Zeke spoke

Looking around I see my childhood friends with pleading eyes but I see Shoji with sad but happy eyes and lastly I see Tenya. Looking dead at me with concern and mix emotions I couldn’t read.

“Let me think about it. I’ll have a definitive answer when y’all go back for sure.” I say while looking at Zeke

He chuclkles and ruffles my hair

“Alrighty doll. You know we will kill to have you back. But if you decided to stay. That’s okay too.”

“Even I miss you. And I’m not good with expressing that “ Porco said mumbling

Smiling I threw my self at Porco

“AWWWWW DOES POC MISS LITTLE OLD ME?!” I say while hugging Porco

“SHUT UP WILL YOU?! Only reason I say that is because Reiner hasn’t stopped moping since the day you left!” Porco said while pouting

Getting up I stretched

“Well im going to go nap. Some people decided to come earlier than expected. And yes Zeke I’ll keep you posted on what I decide. Need to talk to the fam alone you know?”

Peick spoke up

“Can we join you we are as well kinda tired. Even Mezo looks kinda sleepy.”

“Yeah we can head up to my room I’ll leave a movie playing for the ones who don’t want to sleep.” I saw motioning everyone to my room

“We can join too right? “ My sibling spoke up

“Yes everyone come”

[time skip to your room]

“Move over or I swear to god I’ll knock your teeth in” Porco yelled while fighting room for the bed

“POC will you please be kind to Reiner for once!” I yelled

“And rei move up here there is space here” I say while pulling him up

“After all these years Porco you still are rude to me. You are legit my friend and as well childhood bully.” Reiner grunts while sitting next to me

I hear laughter

“Wait so your his friend but used to be bully” Tensie said

“Yeah. We all decided to leave the bully part in the pass but we still argue all the time.” Reiner says

“So it’s like Midorya and Bakugo?” Tenya speaks up finally

“Eh. Explosive hates broccoli head with a passion still. So nah they ain’t like that Rie and Poc. They settles there differences and just fight like brothers. “ i say

“It’s tough love” Porco and Reiner say in sync

Tenya nodded and sat in the beanbag chairs

“So what movie?” Athena spoke up

“Well y’all choose Im napping. And for the love of god don’t yell or yalls eyes are for dinner.” I say yawning and curling up to Reiner

I close my eyes and slowly drifted to sleep

Reiners POV:

I feel y/n softly sleep and look up and see Peick Bert and Marcel sleeping when I hear somone say softly

“Will she really move schools?”

I look up and I see Porco say

I shrugged and respond

“It’s up to her poc. I know we miss her. God knows I do. And I know the rest of you do. But we have to wait for her to respond. Even if she says yes or no I will support her.”

“How would you guys feel if she left with us” Zeke asked Athena

“I mean she is out little sister. But her happiness comes first. And if leaving with you guys makes her happy. We will have to make a monthly visit to our home town” Athena said

“And you mezo?” Zeke asked

“Well i would miss her dearly but like Athena said if leaving makes her happy. I’ll visit and get to know the town y/n speaks so beautiful of.” Shoji said smiling sadly

“At the end of the day it’s up to her and it looks like both parties just want the best for her” the eldest Iida spoke

We all nodded

“She needs a break from here. I know you all won’t say it but I will. She was mine and Peicks first ever female friend besides each-other. I’m honestly on edge even looking at you Tenya. I’m saying this up front I don’t like you. You broke the only person who couldn’t be broken. And god knows she has more problems than this break up. Shit we where rooting for you. She called us so happy every time you would do something amazing to make her day. Even Reiner stepped away for a hot ass minute so she could love you fully. But dude you fucked it up. So if she isn’t leaving with us may god help me because I would be damn if she gave you another chance.” Annie spoke firmly

“Annie bold as ever.” Zeke sighed

“But shes right. We don’t like you” Porco spoke up

“But because our y/n is friend and our family we won’t do nothing to you.” I spoke up

I turn to see Tenya stiff as ever

“And you know her saying” Annie said

“Second chances never matter people never change” Me,Zeke,Porco and Annie said in sync

“What if I do get a second chance. You may never know?” Tenya spoke up

Scoffing I looked him dead in the eyes

“I’d be damn if I let you hurt her again. “

“Well to recall you are her first everything meaning her first ex? Wonder why” Tenya said boldly

“How are you even sure she will give you a second chance as well” he continued

Softly moving y/n off my chest I stand up and made my way towards Tenya with him standing up in the process confidently

Looking straight into Tenyas soul

“Because unlike you four eyes. I’m still her friend. We ended on a good note.”

Getting closer

“You ain’t shit Tenya Iida. Your money or fancy quirk doesn’t make you less of a man you claim you are. I’ll make sure you will see her happy that it pains you. Because unlike you I will make time for her and I will never EVER make her feel less than the Queen she is.”

I continued

“Because I recall being there for her in the days where she was drained from training . And holding her while she cried. Being there for her. You couldn’t do that as a boyfriend. What makes you think you are the one for her?”

Looking him dead in the eyes and smirking

“Just face it Iida. You where never enough for her”

Tenya pov :

“You where never enough for her”

All I felt my body swing to Reiners face