#I got some quite frankly devastating personal news last night

[jorvikzelda]

i hate myself cos ill go be mad at sso for something and then I'll see yall being mad at the exact same thing in a perfectly civilised manner and I'll internally just go "FUCK man whys everyone so negative i need to get off this site"... like ok first of all why dont you go investigate that negativity within YOURSELF first buddy (directed at myself)

[nobutfredweasleytho]

YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)

Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you

(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)

Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.

“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.

“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.

“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”

“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”

Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.

“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.

“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”

Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”

The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.

“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?

“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.

The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.

Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.

Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.

The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.

A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.

The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.

Dear Freddie,

I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.

But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.

But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.

The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.

You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.

You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.

That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.

You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.

Did you think about her the first time we slept together?

Was I not enough for you Freddie?

Was I too clingy too soon?

Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?

So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.

I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.

I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.

I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.

I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.

I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.

Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.

Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.

Have a nice life,

Y/N

[dav3katz]

Hey bestie, I request you to write something self indulgent with your favorite character :]]

[[ ps: Your writing is literally so good, like, omg- you are so talented I can’t— ]]

thank you anon I love. U <333 thank u for the rq and the kind words, take a self indulgent June because I just. Love her sommuch and there’s nothing of her :(

“Stop it you dork” you say with a giggle, as June continues to suffocate you in her arms and her little smooches all up on your face. “You’re smearing your lipstick all over my face!!” You say with a laugh, but she just giggles and continues to smear blue kisses all over you. You push her face away from you, but alas, it’s no use. She continues.

This was kinda new to you, good, healthy relationships.. it was.. different. Your relationships sucked ass, quite frankly. Saving the world was pretty fucking tough, on everybody. It left everyone with unresolved trauma they couldn’t exactly just fix, or make much better. And June had kinda fucked off, telling you she needed a break from you, from everything, everyone. Not that you were dating or anything, you had been best friends for a long time, and she needed time to herself, you understood. You wished she would talk to you, but you couldn’t make her. She had a lot of her shit to deal with, shit with her dad, shit in general.

It was rough on you, which eventually caused you to move in with the bestest friends you had, Dave and Karkat. Who were also in love with eachother, but that’s a story for another time. You’d been living with them for so long, you knew at some point you’d have to move out. Especially when they would eventually start dating. Knowing those two it’d take forever, but you were still concerned. So you tried going on dates. You went on them, very often. All the time. Multiple days a week you went out with a new dude, on occasion a new girl. It never worked out. Usually you’d come home drunk, or crying. And they were there for you. It devastated them both. The other result was hooking up with the person, but never going anywhere.

Dave and Karkat truly could not express enough how dangerous that shit could be, but despite them chastising you for it every goddamn time, you never listened. But eventually, it came to a stop. An abrupt stop. When you met June again. She had.. changed. To say the least. For one, she was now a woman. No longer the man she was when you last saw her, her hair was longer, she had clearly taken some time to self reflect on herself, make herself more confident. She intended to come back a better, happier person. And she was.

She was gorgeous, really. The most lovely lady. You were absolutely bewitched by her, enthralling, really. It’s almost like you’ve never seen a woman in your entire life. In a way, it was kinda how it felt. Like you’d never seen a woman so pretty. Deep down, maybe you always had liked her. After all, she was one of the bestest friends you’ve ever had. She was a lovable, nerdy, dork. But perhaps you were content ignoring it for her happiness with Roxy. But now.. she’s single. And she’s.. just so pretty. How could you resist gawking at her like some fucking incel?

But as always she remained oblivious, thank fuck. But you really did stop trying to fuck any new person every other night. And Dave and Karat were quick to catch onto why that was the case, and boy they were endless about it. The constant teasing you got from the both of them was fatuous in your opinion. But it even got around to Rose and Kanaya, which made you groan to yourself in embarrassment at how obvious you have been. To be fair though, very intelligent women.

The point is.. for a long time you were scared. Scared to ruin a friendship with somebody that mattered to you. Scared even if you dated it’d be shit like all your other relationships. But it wasn’t. It was happy, it was healthy, it was loving. June wasn’t like those assholes, she was kind and considerate and liked you beyond having sex. She cared about you, she checked up on you, she bought you things she thought you’d really like, she tried to make you laugh with cheesy pickup lines and showed you these terrible movies and would assign you characters that reminded her of you.

You haven’t had that, ever. You’ve never been so happy with somebody and you’ve never felt so loved in your life. Felt comfortable goofing off and saying whatever dumb shit and trusting her with all your sad shit and just being so vulnerable. Feeling like you could spend your entire life with this person. But that’s what you felt for June and you’ve never felt it so strongly.

“Hey? You okay?” June asks, the concern was evident in her face, but you just gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good.” Good. For the first time in a long time.

[breitzbachbea]

#11 and #41 for turgre!

Thank you for sending the prompt in!

Fanfic Trope Mash Up

#11 Neighbour AU + #41 Big Damn Kiss =

Herakles & Sadık are both recent university graduates from Athens & İstanbul, but find themselves lacking opportunities to work in their homecountries. So they go abroad to try their luck elsewhere.

Both end up in Germany. Herakles' is living with the Simonides old family friends who've either migrated decades ago or are living as expats in Germany. Natasa and Ibrahim welcome Herakles with open arms. He immediately makes friends with their twins, only a few years younger than him. Omar and Timothea, as they're called, are still living with their parents while they're attending the local university. They're not living in luxury, but they're happy.

Sadık manages to get in contact with Havva Be Yauno via some university acquaintances. They migrated to Germany a while ago, after being kicked out working in local administration. Sadık gets to share a small flat in the building Havva manages for the landlord, together with a Kurdish Woman called Dilan Taş. After some initial hiccups, the two become close friends.

The hiccups with their neighbours next door are less initial. No, that's a lie - The Simonides don't mind their new neighbours, even invite them for coffee and tea. Omar pretty quickly evolves a crush on Dilan.

It's just Herakles and Sadık who keep butting heads.

They argue about petty semantics that only people who studied 'breadless art' would care about. Herakles complains that they're too loud at night. Sadık says Herakles is dragging stray cats into the house by leaving out food & now the whole staircase stinks. There's always something.

As time goes on, they get over themselves a little. Too busy with their own life. Sadık feeds the cats with scraps he gets from the Turkish butcher. Herakles comes over after it's been eerily quiet for weeks and finds out that Sadık's latest odd job makes him work at night. He actually finds him slumped over on the kitchen table when Dilan lets him in before she leaves for work. He goes back and leaves him a package of expensive coffee beans that he had imported from Greece.

One night, they end up together on the university campus. Sitting on the steps surrounding a piece of green near a small river. The city's barely still awake, there's only music, TV and chatter from the dorms. The occassional student crossing after they stayed late at the library.

"What did you actually study?" Sadık asked and put the lighter back into his pocket. It was a cheap one with a wheel. Pain in the ass to get working at this point. His last money had been spent on the cigarettes themselves.

Herakles took a deep breath through his nose. He stared at the water, flowing invisibly except for a few dancing white and orange specks. "Philosophy," he said.

Sadık chuckled and the chuckle quickly became a laugh. "Oh, what a surprise that you couldn't find a job with such a prestigious degree." He grinned and exhaled some smoke.

"And history. Archaeology, Politics, Linguistics, Architecture, Maths... I dipped my toes into physics, too, for a little bit, but couldn't really make it."

Sadık's grin had long faltered. Herakles looked to the river. A smile replaced the initial surprise on Sadık's face. "Oho, a real Renaissance man, aren't you?"

"I like to learn. But all I could do with the few fields I actually managed to acquire a degree in was teach in school. And I'm just not... very good at that." He sighed. Long. "But my dad had stopped paying once I had gotten a job, not that he had ever really paid me enough, mind you, so... I had nowhere to go if I had quit."

"Except here." Sadık wished Herakles would have looked at him. To even catch a glimpse of him, a little bit of that beautiful face illuminated by the pale moon or the orange streetlights.

"Except here." Sadık finally had his wish granted. "What did you study?"

Sadık took a deep breath through his nose. His cigarette was almost finished. "Architecture, too. Tried to get into engineering, but couldn't quite make it. Would have loved to do Literature, frankly. I dunno, get a teaching position at an university, but Anne* always had higher plans for me. Career woman and all that, only wanted the best for me, too, so studying something almost as useless as philosophy wasn't really up for debate."

Now he was the one to stare into the river while he took another drag. He looked at his feet. His shoes could need a good cleaning.

"A smoking literature professor, how cliché," Herakles said and the deep shadows on his face hid how much it reflected the amusement in his voice. He leant in closer to Sadık and put a hand on his thigh. His inner thigh. "All the women would have gone wild over this."

"You think so?" Sadık asked, an expectant but cautious smirk on his face. Rest of his cigarette between his fingers. Herakles' weight on his thigh. He enjoyed his touch. The nights were so cold here in Germany. He leant in for a kiss.

Herakles' hand disappeared. "But I don't kiss smokers." The next moment, Sadık was engulfed in darkness as Herakles stood and blocked the streetlight. He turned and adjusted his jacket. "I have a job interview tomorrow, so see you around, I guess." He turned to just the right angle that Sadık could catch his grin.

He only had a dumbfounded stare as goodbye while Herakles climbed the stairs back to street level.

Some time after this incident, Herakles gets a job as research assisstant at the local university. It's initially only for a project of the history facculty, but he's happy nonetheless.

Now that he knows Sadık enjoys literature, he tells the Simonides one time the topic crops up & they know of a regional literature club, who's holding public reading nights. Any author can show up and read their pieces for 10 Minutes to an audience. Omar tells Dilan, who knows that Sadık writes poetry. She thinks he should go and so after she bullied him into it, they do.

Sadık becomes a regular guest there and ends up meeting other literature enthusiasts, like the Beilschmidts. (He and Gilbert bicker a lot about what the other writes, both trying to take the other down a peg). Sadık never tells Herakles any of this.

So imagine his surprise when he spots him one night in the audience. Afterwards, he's torn between sneaking out and going straight up to him, but Herakles makes the decision for him.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Herakles finally broke the awkward stare-off.

"Well, now you do." Sadık closed his book and shoved it under his arm. With a grin, he asked: "You think it's good?"

Despite what followed, Herakles couldn't wipe the smile off his face: "I enjoyed it more than the other guy's crime story, at least."

Sadık gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, you don't know half of it, Gilbert's been trying to make it work since forever. You got time for a coffee?"

So life's good. They're hanging out, they're working, they're pursueing their passions. One time, the heater in Sadık and Dilan's flat breaks and despite Havva trying their best to get it repaired and them a temporary replacement, they're freezing their asses off. So they go and visit their neighbours, who offer them to sleep over. Sadık is supposed to sleep on the couch. Dilan is supposed to sleep on a mattress in the Simonides' room. Both somehow end up sleeping in a Greek's bed instead. (Herakles has a really small room - his desk is even in the twins' room cuz it wouldn't fit in his own. Sadık asks if he wants coffee and they end up drinking coffee in his bed together and talk until they fall asleep.)

Life could be rosy. That is until one day, the Simonides get into real trouble with the landlord. You see, Natasa and Havva always had a tense relationship, because Natasa doesn't believe in playing by the rules too much, while Havva is a very organized person. However, now some things - like mayhaps Herakles living with them - have gotten directly to the landlord of the building and they're not amused. They threaten to evict them, unless Herakles is going - and want a hefty fine from the Simonides either way.

Getting a new home would mean severe financial strain, not to mention the fine. Omar and Thea may would have to pause or drop their studies. Herakles would have to go back to Greece and start from scratch.

Which he's willing to do, seeing how much trouble he caused the family, even if it breaks his heart. Natasa is having none of it - "I'm not sending you back to your son of a bitch, deadbeat dad, Iraklis" - and insists he stays.

Dilan and Sadık get wind of all of this and they're just as devasted as the family itself. They don't want to lose their neighbours. They don't want this to ruin Omar's and Thea's future. They don't want Herakles to leave. Sadık doesn't want Herakles to leave.

So he pleads with Havva to do something, anything, he'll help them do whatever it takes. Natasa is far too proud to do so. Maybe she even suspects that Havva had something to do with it. (They don't).

And through a lot of negotiation, bribery and running errands, the Simonides get to stay. Omar and Thea can continue pursueing their degrees in peace. Herakles gets to stay and keep working in Germany.

"You... You've spent your past weeks on this?" Herakles' stare pierced Sadık as much as it seemed to look right through him. His mouth hung open, jaw slack. "This was all your doing?"

Sadık took a deep breath, but had to settle for a rather unintelligent "Well, yeah." Herakles' stare unsettled him. He had never seen him at a loss for words before. He was even afraid the other might faint.

A heartbeat later, Sadık was afraid he might faint. Herakles had taken a step towards him, grabbed his face and pressed his lips onto Sadık's. It knocked the breath out of him.

His lips were soft. They were so soft and hot and melded with his own effortlessly.

He kissed back, hands on Herakles' face, fingers buried in the messy hairy. The pressure between them was right, felt right, made them one for a brief eternity.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun. They both took a deep breath through their nose and Herakles panted loudly as he exhaled through the mouthm He swallowed.

"Herakles, I don't think that that's an appropriate enough Thank you", Ibrahim said, but neither of the two barely even registered it. Natasa laughed. Loudly.

"Oh, no, I think it's more than enough," Sadık replied as he stared at the wall next to Herakles' head. His hands were still on his face. "Although..." Ibrahim and Natasa were talking in Greek when he faced Herakles again. She still chuckled while a grin stole itself onto his face. "I think I could go for a little bit more gratitude, after all we've done."

"Don't push it," Herakles warned him. Yet, his cockyness was rewarded with another kiss.

Sadık's tongue slipped between his lips effortlessly. As if it belonged there.

Like Herakles belonged here.

So... yeah! I hope you liked it!

[rouiyan]

𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘜𝘊𝘒 𝘐𝘕 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘎𝘖𝘈𝘓 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

⧏ hyuck’s installment of the keep your cool collective ⧐

synopsis: you’ve decided that the boy in ‘66’ is yours.

✧ ice hockey player!hyuck x (fem.) reader x ice hockey player!jeno + best friend!renjun

✧ genres : fluff, minor angst ✧ word count : 2.3k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — finally my brain had the gall to pull through with this idea but i'm left with the realization that all my hyuck fics are just him simping for u.

hyuck internally sighs, his head ringing and ankles sore, as the buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the third round. he’s almost elated, even though he’s sure his team hasn’t won, by just the fact that the game is over. hyuck is by no means sick of ice hockey but lately, the mere idea of it drives him into exhaustion. as he turns to expect the disappointed stare of his coach, he’s surprised when he’s met with a halfhearted smirk. weird, the coach should know more than anyone how lazily this game had played out. but then, as an afterthought, he checks the scoreboard and realizes with an oh shit, that they were tied with the opposing team, somehow.

his line of vision is parting from the board when he makes unfortunate eye contact with the person entering the rink. your hair is pulled back with a pale pink scrunchie and your outfit is a certified mess of oversized hoodie and sweat shorts upon white sneakers. he can quite literally feel the heat that is quick to rush to his cheeks, unfailing to hide his flustered state. he knows he looks stupid but he still can't help but stare and ogle at new and blatant eye candy as she crosses the threshold into the cold space. half your figure is  now covered by the wall that separates the stands with the rink though it doesn't matter because he's still equally enamoured by simply your presence. 

"hyuck, why you staring at y/n?"

hyuck can only wince inwardly as he stutters out, "that's- that's y/n?" it seems unfair that renjun's been hoarding such a pretty specimen to himself. "like your best friend, y/n?"

"yeah, what about her?"

"br-bro, you never mentioned that she was pretty."

"hey, don't even think about it. you're the last possible person i'd set her up with. plus, she's with jeno, they went on a date after practice last time, remember?"

there's an underlying disappointment in donghyuck's tone when he's only able to produce a soft, "oh," because frankly he doesn't know why he's so worked up over someone who he's never even met and that's also dating one of his close teammates. amidst his confused trance, he almost fails to notice his coach call for a pre-game huddle.

he ends up tuning out most of it, now distracted by how jeno keeps glancing back at you and making funny faces, you returning them with the! cutest! little expressions he has ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes upon. the rest of the game is played out with enthusiasm on his part, even going so far as scoring in two more points. he's quick to doubt the truth but donghyuck knows that it's whoever that girl is in the front seats that's making him outdo himself.

the game ends and his team wins, claps and cheers at how the game had turned around in their favor, but donghyuck reverts into a sulky demeanor as soon as he's off the rink and into the locker rooms. he notices jeno, being quick and almost feisty with the other boys that are taking too long for his liking in hogging the showers. donghyuck assumes it has something to do with the (gorgeous, wtf) girl that's waiting on him for a date. hardly fair, he thinks, if only he'd met you earlier by chance, he knows he'd definitely have the ability to charm you out of your wits. after all, he's smart, his face is undeniably agreeable, his sense of humor is top notch, and well, what's not to like?

instead of getting closer to you as he so hoped he would, he ends up becoming more familiar with the routine disappointment, and yet delight, at seeing you show up after practices, games, and eventually, team gatherings outside the rink. he's okay with it, he thinks. but it becomes frequent, even, that you show up out of the blue, with the invitation from jeno, and he's starting to lose his cool when it comes to the simplest of interactions. being included in a conversation with you was no problem, as long as he wasn't talking. eye contact? bearable, but not for more than half a second. and the utmost unfortunate luck for the boy if you ever asked him to pass you a fork, or a spoon, or a goddamned napkin. 

he's not so sure anymore, one sullen night, that he could ever make you his, even if he was gifted the chance. when you're not by jeno's side, you're by renjun's, and if that isn't telling enough about how uncomfy you feel around everyone else, he wouldn't know any better. but even laying within the deepest, darkest parts of night, the screen on his phone displaying your more recent instagram post of you on jeno's back, a sun setting beach painted behind the two of you, he finds his heart yearning to know more about you. he knows you're not one to reach out, to make friends unless in a situation that calls for it, so he supposes now is as good as a time as any to shoot his shot, at being friends.

he braves himself for this hefty task. his breaths are ragged and his heart is already hammering a deep crater inside his chest at just the thought of following through with his plan. his fingers are shaking and his pupils are twitting at about the same pace and it appears that none of his bodily functions seem to be within his control anymore. but before he can press the button, his door is thunked wide open with a hard force, the handle even going so far as to lodge itself neatly into the wall that's now been broken through. donghyuck's mouth is hanging ajar but he's barely surprised to see that the culprit of such heinous and costly action is jeno. lee jeno. 

donghyuck makes swift and subtle actions to shove his phone underneath his pillow but when he takes a good look at the boy's face, he realizes that he didn't need to be so discrete in the first place. jeno's eyes are swollen, and not in the way that suggests he got into a big manly manly fight and came out the victor, but in the way that looks as if his three cats died, all at once, and he'd taken it upon himself to cry for each of their mothers respectively. 

the same eyes rove about the room before settling on the bed, his body following suit but moving as if it were part of another entity entirely. the mattress sinks down low with his body weight and he repositions himself so that he's laying down comfortably, his legs still hung over and down the side. donghyuck can hear jeno's ragged breaths, not unlike his own a minute ago, and he wonders what hell of a day the boy had had to render him into this state of numbed consciousness. but before he can even form the question that sits at the edge of his mind, jeno's voice reverberates lowly in the silence of the room.

"she broke up with me," donghyuck blinks purposefully, "something 'bout how she thinks she might like someone else, fucking bastard."

"is she the bastard?" donghyuck tries to disassociate his feelings from his words and come across as...helpful in lifting his friend's mood.

jeno chuckles, "no, hyuck, she's not the bastard. bastard's the guy who has her heart. i'm glad she told me though, she's never been one to hide things."

"yeah, would've been worse if she dragged it on, huh."

"yeah, a lot worse."

donghyuck's voice almost gets caught within the confines of his rationality, "did she tell you who he- the bastard is?" he sighs inwardly, knowing that this was none of his business whatsoever, but the desire to know seeps into his thoughts. 

jeno sighs as well, "no, not really. she said it was some boy on the team though, might even be you now that i think about it."

"oh," is, yet again, the only thing he is able to produce. 

the new revelations seem to give life to donghyuck. the mere idea that there's a possibility of interest in his direction is something that he thrives off of. mundane tasks like washing the dishes are now enjoyable hobbies, no actual brain work, head empty, thoughts of you exclusively. when it comes to practice, you're no longer there, your presence reduced to hushed talk between the boys and renjun, asking him if you really are the reason jeno's been so out of it, letting easy pucks into the goal left and right. hyuck is relieved, though, that he gets a break, a step back to rethink his crazed emotions. maybe it really was just simple infatuation. maybe it was just because he hadn't gotten laid in awhile. or even just the fact that he's been hanging out with the boys too much and that the first girl he set his eyes on in days ultimately became the protagonist to his daydreams. hell, he is especially glad that you decided it wasn't worth showing your face at the rink for the time being for jeno would've been downright devastated.

that whole paragraph of feelings is bluntly disregarded and thrown off track as he enters the corner cafe a few blocks down from his house and is met with you waving your hand excitedly at him and motioning for him to sit with you. he doesn't hesitate, of course, but makes sure he takes slow and deliberate steps to the window booth you're sitting at just to make sure he at least gets in four deep breaths before he is inevitably subjected to not breathing in your presence.

"hyuck, it's been awhile, i hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable or anything," your face morphs into an expression of realization as it hits you that calling him over was entirely to satisfy your own hopes and dreams. the boy sitting across from you, smiling lightly, might as well be feigning a pleasant disposition, grossed out by the girl that dumped his friend just because she thought she was interested in someone else. by the end of this thought, your voice is reduced to a timid pitch, "you can leave if you want, it's all good."

"actually, i think that it'd be more uncomfortable for you if i left." he feels his heart constrict at the sight and the knowledge that his words enlightened your composure. you take it upon yourself to start some light conversation, not wanting to disclose the reason you'd called him over in the first place just yet. your heart picks up pace, rivaling hyuck's own, and you can't help but think of the sheer likeliness of the luck you'd just encountered. just as you decided to brave up for once and not take advantage of your best friend setting you up on one too many blind dates that were just, too artificial for you, the boy whom you had taken a liking for had shown up before your eyes, breezing through those glass doors as if it were a sign for you to just take charge. 

"and i was telling him-"

"are you free friday?"

"what? oh, what?!"

"i'm asking if you're free friday."

"i- i mean yeah, i have practice at three, but i'm free afterwards."

"let's grab dinner together then."

"oh shoot, okay, like with the boys? 'cause i could ask them if they're down."

"no, i was hoping it could be just us. like a date."

"so, hold the fuck up, you're asking me out on a date?"

"yeah, why…? am i not allowed to do that? is going out on a date with me gonna break bro code or something?"

"n- no, nothing like that. it's just...you can't possibly be serious."

"oh, trust me, i'm dead serious."

"...holy shit, i'm in."

donghyuck fucks up big time at practice, his cheeks are way too hot and he's sweating gallons per second. his jaw is clenching and unclenching in hopes that the action might make him a little more attentive while on ice but instead, he finds his eyes roving over to your figure in the stands far more often than he'd like to admit. he thinks, no he hopes, that jeno is okay with the fact that you're not here for him but rather the 'boy on the team' he'd unknowingly referred to a few months back. hyuck knows, though, that renjun is definitely not okay with it, the aforementioned boy throwing just as many glares at hyuck as hyuck's many glances towards you.

practice is over long after he hoped it would be but you're patient and supportive nonetheless. his eyes crinkle and his smile widens as you sidle into him for warmth in the cool air of the ice rink. hyuck solves this by removing the hoodie from his own, accustomed body, and gently tugs it over your shivering one. he thinks he handles the wave of adoration that consumes him pretty well, even able to ease the corners of his lips down a tad bit. "you're cute," you pull at his cheeks and suddenly things are not so easy to handle. 

donghyuck does eventually get used to all the sneaky shit you pull just to get his ears red and shy smile blossoming, but he knows he'll never get used to the sight of you in the stands, adorning his spare 66 jersey with everything else fading, and fading further away until it's just you and him, and him and you.

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — i hope you find someone that holds you in such high esteem as hyuck does in this fic, i'm sure you deserve it <3

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Though winds of change are blowing wild and free

Inspired by @softlass27 here's their first year on the run. Just a few little snippets of their life and the bumps along the way. I'm playing fast and loose with legalities over money and property etc so go with it. If Emmerdale can stick Harriet in a cellar for weeks and think it's good then I can do this.

(AO3 link)

Aaron yawned as he switched off the engine. He’d been driving for hours, putting as many miles between them and Emmerdale as he could. Robert had driven some of the way but he’d started to flag and on unfamiliar roads, Aaron hadn’t wanted to risk it so he’d taken over.

He looks over at him, still sleeping, head resting against the window. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened in the past day and a half and just how much their lives were changed. It hadn’t felt like this the last time. He’d been running then, more from everything in the village and in his head than the actual charges he was facing. This time though, this time he’d been happy, they’d had a pretty perfect life in Emmerdale, and now, that was gone.

He truly hoped they could do it, that it wouldn’t break them. For all his words to Paddy the day before he couldn’t help but wonder. Had it been part of why he and Ed had broken up in the end, had it been there in the background making everything else worse until they’d just given up.

He and Robert weren’t him and Ed, he knew that, but he couldn’t bear to think of the two of them growing so far apart they can’t be fixed, not after everything.

Then again the alternative is prion, and Aaron’s not stupid, he knows Robert wouldn’t cope. Not that he’s not strong, he’s the strongest person Aaron knows, but prison gets inside you, eating at you from the inside out and Robert shouldn’t have to face that.

They’d make it work, they’d have to. There was no other choice.

“Hey sleepyhead. We’re here.” He loves watching Robert wake up, how he fights it, wanting to go back to the warmth of sleep and whatever dream he’s having, how he’ll take a deep breath before he finally opens his eyes, and smiling when he sees him. “You with me.”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse and he coughs a little as he looks up at the B&B they’d found online. “Looks ok.”

“Let’s get in and get some sleep then. We’ll sort everything else tomorrow.”

“Last chance.” He frowns, doesn’t know what he means. “To back out.”

“Never. Come on.” He’d tell him as many times as he needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Day 1

He’d laid awake most of the night, listening to Robert’s little snores, glad he was sleeping. Aaron had let him, part of him had enjoyed the peace, allowing him to get his thoughts in order. Everything had happened so fast he'd just done it all without thinking. Not that he was having second thoughts, not for a minute but there was so much to think about. They had to find somewhere to live, work, all sorts. He was pretty sure they'd be safe now as long as they kept their heads down but even so they'd be looking over their shoulders forever. They needed to make a list of everything they had to do. Maybe they should’ve done it the night before but after they'd checked in they'd just gone straight to sleep both too exhausted to do anything else.

He looks over at Robert, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up, the lazy smile when he sees him. Being with him was worth it. always would be. He shuffles closer needing him to know that he'd always be there, always by his side.

"You ok?" He still looks a little shell shocked by the whole thing and Aaron supposes that's normal. He has an advantage after doing this before he supposes.

Thankfully he hadn't asked about why he was so late getting to him but he would soon enough, and he didn't really want to get into it because Robert will just feel guilty and it's not him who has to feel that way.

"Yeah."

"So, What's first?"

“Breakfast.” He was starving. The last thing he’d eaten had been a pasty on the ferry that had frankly seen better days.

Later they’re staring up at a cottage that’s for rent in the next village to where they'd stayed the night. South of Paris, Aaron considered it isolated enough that they'd be safe. It wasn't anything near as grand as Mill, but it had everything they needed and it wouldn't cost the earth. In time they'd likely want something bigger, or need to move, but for now it was home.

“You like it?” He asks him, arm slipping round his waist.

“Yeah. We can make it home, can’t we?”

“Yeah. I’ll need to call Cain soon though. We’re going to need money. What we’ve got won’t last forever. He can send me everything I need to give him permission to sell the scrapyard.”

“What?”

“It’s not like I’m going back there is it? Should get a decent sum for it, business is good.” Robert looks disappointed, almost devastated at his words. “We’ll need the money Robert and you can hardly do anything with your part of the haulage firm right now.”

"You have money." Aaron frowns up at him because the last time he checked his bank account it hadn't been so healthy. "When I thought I'd be going down for GBH, I transferred the money we'd put by for surrogacy into your account."

“What?" He’d never said a word. How had he not noticed that Robert was quietly planning for not being there anymore.

"It felt like the right thing, and besides, then we were still thinking of going ahead. You would've needed it. You can get Cain to sort it, transfer it or whatever. Then he can send any profits from the scrapyard over, at least until we work out how much we’re going to need.”

"I...ok." It makes sense, he just hadn't connected it as his mind that their dream of another baby was over. "Yeah. Right I should go call, get things moving. I won't be long."

"Aaron, wait." He tries to shake the hand off his arm but Robert's stubborn, won't let go. “I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that…I’m sorry.”

"What for?"

"Just one more thing I've ruined isn't it. Maybe if I hadn’t taken so long to decide to have a baby, or if we’d just gone ahead with it instead of trying to scam Graham, we might have our baby right now.” Maybe he’s right, but then again they could hardly have gone on the run with a newborn baby, which would mean he’d be in prison.

"No!" He breathes out, trying to stop tears falling at the thought. It'd just make Robert feel worse. "No...I just hadn't thought. It's fine. Really. Like you say it makes sense to hold onto the yard. Hey…it’s ok.”

"I don't want you looking back in a year and hating me." Robert's staring at the ground, hands fidgeting and this time it's Aaron who's holding on, holding his chin so he'll meet his gaze.

"I won't, Robert. I promise you I won't. Messed up forever, isn't that what you said once?" He nods, a hint of a smile.

"Now let’s have a look inside before we do anything. Then if we want it I’ll call Cain. We’ve got enough for a couple of months rent with us anyhow. But I’m telling you now, if there’s a spiral staircase in there, I’m out.”

“Oi, there was nothing wrong with that staircase!”

The inside is better than he could hope and even better that it’s available from that day and the next thing he knows they’re unloading what little they have from the car.

"Is that the last of it?" Robert asks from the kitchen where he’s checking what cooking bits and pieces they have.

“Yeah.” He looks around. It’s nice, he thinks they can turn it into home soon enough, but he feels lonely all of a sudden standing there in a strange house. “I should go and get some food, take a quick look around, just in case.”

“Hey, slow down. You don’t have to do everything right this minute. I nicked the tea out of the room we had, we can suffer it black for now.”

“Robert, stuff needs sorting.”

“And it will be, but you haven’t stopped since we got up this morning.”

“I need to make sure we’re safe Robert. We’re not on a bloody holiday!”

“Don’t you think I know that? But unless the police are around the corner I think you can take five minutes to sit and have a cuppa before you fall down. Now sit.”

“So it’s going to be like this now is it? Bossing me around?”

“Figured a change is as good as a rest.” He hands him a mug and he wraps his hands round it. "So, while we settle in are you going to tell me what happened when you went home? You’ve been suspiciously quiet about it all.”

"I told you, Cain took ages." He busies himself blowing on the hot drink, refusing to look his husband in the eye.

"Yeah, and like I told you I know that's a load of rubbish. What happened Aaron? Look, I won't be mad if you had second thoughts. I half expected you wouldn't turn up if I'm honest.” That makes him look up, then again he’d known that’s where his mind would go.

"What? No, that was... Rob that's so far off..." He sighs, putting the tea down before joining him on the sofa. "I'd got the passports already. I was at home getting our stuff. when Paddy turned up."

"Paddy. What did he want?"

"Basically to stop me leaving. An intervention if you like.” He shivers a little, thoughts of what if they’d succeeded crossing his mind.

"What did he do?" He's annoyed already, Aaron knows that tone, and he rests his hand over his, trying to calm him down.

"Locked me in, threw the keys in the waste disposal, then he and Liv spent the night telling me how awful you were, how wrong I was to be coming with you." He tells him everything, brushing away the tears when they start spilling from Robert's eyes.

“He did what?" It comes out in a growl and Aaron knows he's angry . He was, but now it's changed into sadness. Sadness that they'd rather lose him by pushing him away than respecting his decisions.

"I didn't listen not for a minute.”

"They thought it was ok to lock a grown man in his own house? Why the hell didn't you tell me before?"

"What would you have done? Gone back to Emmerdale and ripped Paddy a new one?” He already knows the answer which is precisely the reason he hadn’t said a word. As much fun it might’ve been to see it, it wasn’t worth the risk.

"Yes!"

"Which would've achieved what?"

"Would've made me feel a whole lot better." Aaron chuckles despite everything because the look on his face is exactly the same as Seb's when they had tried to feed him pureed carrots for the first time." And…I’d thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?" He asks when Robert stops, staring into space.

"Nothing."

"No go on.” He has a bad feeling about this, wants it all out in the open.

"When I was waiting...you were so long, and my mind was all over the place. I kept thinking that...I wanted you to be safe..."

“I am."

"Are you? If I'd...I thought that it might be easier to...I thought about handing myself in." He gets up shrugging off Aaron's hand. "I thought that at least if I did that while we were still in England I would know you were safe, that you'd have your family, that they'd look after you."

"You were going to leave me?” His voice cracks as he gets up to go to Robert. It’s not as though he didn’t think Robert would sacrifice himself for him, he already knows he would, but the knowledge that it had come that close because of his family left him cold.

"For your own good. You would've been with your family, they'd look after you and you'd get to have a life without looking over your shoulder."

"You really think that's how it would've gone? Even before I told you this? That they'd look after me?"

"Well obviously not now! But then, yeah. I’d spoken to your Mum, said she should keep an eye on you when I was away so yeah I thought she’d actually do it!”

"I didn’t know that. Blimey. Wish I’d been there to see it.” It does the trick and breaks the tension. “You’re wrong though.”

“Why?” He pulls him back to the sofa, holding him close.

"Shall I tell you how it would go...If you had taken notice of your conscience, which frankly needs better timing, and handed yourself in, left me…They'd be sympathetic, at first, then they'd start, little by little suggesting I have a night out, have some fun. Then my Mum, or Liv, probably both would point out any cute blokes that come into the pub. Then I'd end up going out with one of them to keep the peace. All the while they'd be running you down so I don't even feel I can mention you at all. It'd be like you never existed."

"Aaron, don’t.” He can hear the pain in his voice at the thought that his good deed would’ve end up that way, but he needs to know, if only so it puts the notion of doing something stupid out of his mind for good. “They might not…they’ve might’ve just been there for you.”

"No, you need to know. That's how it would be and you know how I know that? Because they've done it before. When we broke up, that's exactly what happened. So no, don't ever think I might be better off with them instead of you."

"I didn't know…well I knew your Mum and Paddy tolerated me, but even so, I always thought they’d wants what’s best for you, no matter what.”

“Maybe once they did, but I was thinking it over while I was driving last night, it’s not. It’s about what they want. It’s never been about what’s best for me, ever since Mum was dating Carl King. It’s always been about what she wants and I have to fit in with that. Sometimes she’s better but in the end it always goes back to the same thing. I’ve started to realise just how much I've done what they wanted over the years, taken the easy way out.”

“You?”

“Until I met you at least. Then again Mum did always say you were a bad influence on me.”

“Ta very much.”

“They’ve gone too far now though Rob, you know that. I’ll never forgive them for this. If I’d been just half an hour later…I would’ve lost you. It doesn’t bear thinking about. That’s why I want everything right, so we’re safe, so I don’t lose you.”

“Come here.” Robert wraps him up in his arms, strong and warm and he doesn’t ever want to be anywhere else. “Just one thing. How did you get out of the house?”

“Oh.” He scratches his beard, trying to keep the laughter in. “Bathroom window. You would’ve thought Paddy would’ve remembered that one after seeing you leg it, but no. Scarpered and left them locked in. I’ll have to remember to ask Cain how long it took ‘em to get out.”

Robert’s laughter is the most beautiful sound he’s heard in days.

[katsidhe]

Ranking Every SPN Season Finale

15) 11.23 Alpha and Omega. Dead last because not only is Chuck and Amara’s conflict defanged with a frankly silly anticlimax, but a lot of runtime is eaten up with establishing Lady Toni getting on a plane. The great weakness of an otherwise very strong season is that none of the awful compromises Sam and Dean and Cas made (especially Sam wrt Lucifer) ended up having relevance at all.

14) 9.23 Do You Believe In Miracles. Cheesy dying dialogue, Metatron hamming it up for way too long, that facepalming “the radio was on the whole! time!” twist, uncertainty as to the motivation of the whole confrontation that ends in Dean’s death. Also, this is the beginning of the end of walking back the beautiful work the rest of s9 established, with Sam saying things like “I lied.” I don’t like Dean’s death here at all, in staging, or conceptually, or thematically.

13) 12.23 All Along The Watchtower. I am basically obliged to put this in C tier because it is quite silly, but frankly, I like it more than its ranking deserves. It has the late season finale sin of cramming in an introduction to next season’s conflict in the middle of wrapping up this season’s—but it’s absolutely hilarious that they brought in multiverse portals. And for Sam and Dean, thank god the portal appeared, because otherwise they had absolutely no plan whatsoever to deal with Lucifer, and they probably would have died gruesomely. High points: Sam discovering Rowena’s death on the phone with Lucifer; the spooky introduction of Jack, the raised stakes with Mary trapped with Lucifer. Lowest point: the utter silly pointlessness of Cas’s death.

12) 10.23 Brother’s Keeper. This is the finale that I have the strongest mixed feelings about. There is a queasy lack of self-awareness in the treacly sentiment when Sam presents family photos as evidence of Dean’s goodness. The excuse of MOC!Dean as not the “real” Dean allows for the reasons behind this confrontation to be elided, even as its themes are echoed again and again. The chilling horror of Sam on his knees in front of Dean the executioner is potent and darkly enjoyable, but the instant redirection into attacking Death prevents any kind of real culmination. I can’t decide if I like this episode or loathe it, but I do think I appreciate it more now, after 14.20 and 15.17, than I did when it aired. 

11) 7.23 Survival of the Fittest. We’re on to B-tier! There’s nothing significantly wrong with 7.23. Meg crashes the Impala through a glass sign, so that’s fun. Kevin’s there. There’s action, there’s some cool stakes for next season established, Sam is left alone, which I love. The main sin here is just that most of it is fairly forgettable, because the strongest part of s7 was always the psychological drama of the Winchesters’ disintegration and isolation, not the physical conflict with Leviathans.

10) 14.20 Moriah. Lots of my points about 10.23 apply here, but Moriah is a much better episode, both because there is actual conflict of opinion, and because there is a lot more built-in uncertainty about Jack’s fate than Sam’s. Jack and Dean are onboard with Jack’s murder, just as Sam and Dean were agreed on Sam’s death in 10.23, but this time Cas is staunchly against it, and Sam is on the fence, torn as to how to intervene. So it’s much better drama. But then the crux of the issue gets defanged by Chuck’s reveal. Great s15 setup, but kicks the 14.17-14.19 build down the road. Extra points for Sam shooting God. 

9) 13.23 Let the Good Times Roll. I fucking love the 13.21-13.23 arc. The only thing preventing 13.23 from being A-tier are some wholly avoidable mistakes. The staging is silly; a face-palming amount of time was wasted on Maggie; the wires were a deeply regrettable choice. But even with all that, what we got was great, actually! The Sam-Jack-Lucifer church custody battle is still my favorite goddamn thing. Dean saying yes to Michael was both his only smart move and a devastating sacrifice. The character dynamics here are so JUICY. 13.21-14.01 is, IMO, one of the most fertile grounds for fic and speculation in the entire show.

8) 2.22 All Hell Breaks Loose, Part Two. Now we’re into finales that are fantastic without reservation. Off the devastation of Sam’s death comes Dean’s iconic deal. The actual confrontation in the graveyard is good too, though it’s second to the way we’re all reeling from part one. Azazel dies, Sam and Dean are bloodied and facing down new stakes. The only thing I dislike about this episode is John’s cameo.

7) 1.22 Devil’s Trap. This is the episode that ups the ante! Azazel in John, and Dean, and Sam, and the delicious family dynamic here; the stakes are so personal, and it’s a great examination what each of them is willing to pay for their quest: an electrifying taste of what’s to come. And the music, and the sheer fucking balls of just, crashing a goddamn truck into your main characters at the end of the first season. Nice.

6) 3.16 No Rest for the Wicked. Lilith is delightfully evil. We’re on tenterhooks for Sam to save Dean, we’re narratively primed to expect him to pull off something amazing, a last-minute miracle. But—nope! Sorry! Dean gets graphically ripped apart onscreen and now he’s being tortured in Hell! Shocking and bold, and a crucial turning point in the series. 

5) 4.22 Lucifer Rising. Fresh off 4.21 comes an excellent culmination of season 4′s devastation. The reveals from both Ruby and the angels, Sam draining the possessed nurse, Cas at last choosing to betray Heaven, and the final arrival of Lucifer: it all just works, really well. 

4) 15.20 Carry On. Part of the reason I’m ranking this so highly might be spite. But goddammit, bad wig and worse Carry On cover aside, this is a good episode, and a really, really good series finale! The deliberate anticlimax of Dean’s death, the quiet strength in Sam’s grief, the untroubled, unrushed pacing of Sam’s recovery and aging, and Dean’s drive. Supernatural said Sam Rights, and I wept like a tiny little baby. 

3) 6.22 The Man Who Knew Too Much. Adventures in Sam’s mind! Cas and Crowley and Raphael and the double cross! The taste of cosmic horror! The end of season 6 and beginning of season 7, as Sam and Dean cope simultaneously with Sam’s psychological fallout and the consequences of their most powerful ally going off the rails, is fantastic. I love the literalism and the symbolism of Sam’s reintegration: this is an unapologetically Sam episode (as are the other top four, come to think of it). 

2) 8.23 Sacrifice. Sam’s heartbreaking deterioration in the church and Crowley’s disintegration are an electrifying climax to the trials. Dean and Sam’s final exchange is a breathtaking combination of raw emotion and delirium and a fascinating guilt trip. It’s a visually and conceptually stunning episode: the angels fall burning against a night sky; Sam surrenders the trials and collapses, dying. 

1) 5.22 Swan Song. You knew this would be number one, I knew this would be number one, we all knew this would be number one. It’s iconic for a reason. Sam and Lucifer talking through a mirror; the loss of all hope and the sky-high stakes. Stull Cemetery is the defining moment of so, so much of the rest of the series. Dean’s loyalty gives Sam the strength he needs to bury himself alive forever with his worst nightmare, and it saves the world, and it’s the highest cost either of them has ever paid.  

[arewelonely]

calypso cubs, @lumosinlove fanfiction

i never get AU ideas this was a joy

ok so logan is calypso. he's just there and it's hot and he's missing his family and he's somehow surviving day by day, resigning himself to the fact that he's alone, on this island, and what is he supposed to do to pass the centuries?

then a redhead washes up on shore and he's gorgeous and logan pushes that aside to heal the boy and help him repair his ship. but finn has personality and jokes and also somehow sees logan and when he returns to his lil hut at night his brain is running in circles because there is no way on earth that finn would stay here, on this island, with logan until the end of time. logan can't ask finn to do that. so we get the logan denying his feelings and doing a little bit of hot and cold, as he does.

but he likes finn. there's something about him. and they kiss one day and it's good but logan pulls himself away because this is unfair, to finn and unfair of the gods to logan himself and the look on finn's face about breaks him. a few days later they make up; finn reveals his feelings and logan reveals the tragedy that is his life: if they are to be together, finn must stay on this island.

finn convinces logan to try and leave with him. he's so insistent and persistent and logan sees the love and hope in his eyes and he gets tired of saying no and he gets tired of wanting. so the two climb into the boat and they push off of the island.

it's fine for a bit. they get a bit away, to the deeper part of the ocean, and logan feels his chest rise in spite of his worries. finn is firey and grinning and has not interacted with the gods as closely as logan has.

the waves increase in their intensity. the joy on finn's face is replaced with shock and then a cold splash of fear as he's thrown from the boat. logan jumps in after him and struggles him back to the surface despite the rocky waves. he hauls him up back on the boat and lifts himself to peer over the edge, confirming finn is alright–he is. he's breathing. just a little stunned.

and logan dives under the water and doesn't resurface until he's close enough back to the island that finn won't see him.

logan's devastated. cursing the gods. pissed off at the world. angry as he goes around and sees the bits of finn left behind, the little messes they hadn't cleaned up before leaving. he hopes that finn has returned safely to his war. he hopes finn doesn't hate him too much.

and then a few weeks later there's splashing in the water and logan looks over, his heart beating, and it's not finn, but a tall sunshine boy who crawls his way on to the beach and lugs his boat behind him before collapsing and falling into a deep exhausted sleep.

logan wishes he didn't do it, wishes he acted better, but he stares at the boy for a good few minutes, wondering if there is any way the boy will wake up on his own, hop back in his boat, and just leave, before wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders and dragging him along the sand to logan's hut.

the boy stays asleep for days. logan is both grateful and ungrateful for this–he doesn't have to talk to the boy. he can continue to grieve. but he knows at any moment the boy will become his responsibility–frankly, the boy is already his responsibility. he's making him drink some water whenever he mumbles and he knows his heart is pounding whenever the boy, fast asleep, clutches his wrist.

leo wakes up. he sees that logan is hurting and a bit cracked and he gives him as much space as he can–after all, logan is still caring for him. but logan also looks at him in ways he can't decipher and logan, frankly, has no idea why he's looking at him so much. there's none of finn in his face. but his eyes sparkle when he speaks.

logan pushes leo away when he kisses him. he then reaches out to bring leo back, but leo shakes his head and backs away. logan is either in, or he's out. and logan can't do this to leo, and he can't do this to himself. and he shakes his head, because leo's all healed and his boat has been fine since he's arrived on this island and logan just needs leo gone.

but, of course, it's worse without leo.

logan prays to the gods that no fucking other boy will come to this island, and, for a year, no one does. he is astonished that the gods are listening to him, but thankful all the same. his heart longs for the two boys... he doesn't have it in him to care for any others.

leo returns to the war. he is tougher than when he left, a bit more guarded, and his friends don't understand where he was that changed him this way. he refuses to speak about it–what's the point? he was hurt, and he doesn't want to go back... he doesn't even know if it's possible to go back. so, he'll never see logan again. alright. good riddance.

there's another boy who hangs out in the camp, somehow lively despite the stress they're under. and yes, he has red hair, not brown, and yes, the two are in entirely different circumstances, but leo tenses his jaw regardless and looks away. they're in a war. this could still have a devastating end.

finn understands this, and he and leo fight side by side, growing more comfortable with each other and avoiding any and all pulls to each other for the sake of their future sanity. but then leo isn't quite sure if their current sanity is better for this, and he looks at finn for a long time one night and then finn meets his eyes and then they're kissing and leo misses logan so very much.

the war fades to an end, or they win, or they lose, and finn and leo each know that something is missing between them. finn has determined that the pang in his heart is only a bit smeared with anger towards the way logan just gave up on him–logan was caring for him by sticking him back on the boat. logan wanted to make sure finn could return to his life. logan was trying to act kindly, even if it sucked.

leo and finn get to talking about their time during the war, the time that both of them, about a month apart, were lost at sea for a bit. their mouths hang open when they realize. logan.

they build a sturdier boat. they bring it to the edge of the sea. they travel back, trying to figure out where exactly they got lost the last time, how the winds sent them to wash up on logan's island. they wonder how logan's doing.

it takes days to arrive. the gods have zero interest in helping them and quite a bit of interest in pushing them away from this island. but they see it, in the distance, or they believe that they do and they keep going. leo shouts when he actually sees it, the trees as he remembers and a faint hut that brings back the pang in his chest.

finn has explained why logan, probably, refused to kiss leo. leo explained how logan had pulled him back in, and he knows that logan's feelings for him were most likely marred by his curse. he hopes this is the case.

getting to the island is a test of both finn and leo's strength. the waves are rocky as all hell and the wind refuses to help and they pull hard on the ropes for the sails to corral the wind somehow to get them to this island. logan has seen them and his heart is pounding because there are two people on this ship, and they're both standing, and they look like people he loves, and he stands at the edge of the water, not wanting to go and help for fear of making it worse.

but as they get closer, the waves increase on their own. logan makes eye contact with first finn, who has tears in his eyes, and then leo, whose sturdy expression he recognizes from the moment when leo asked him: was he in, or was he out?

finn calls to logan to swim up to the boat, and logan shifts his eyes to leo again, who nods harshly, and logan truly doesn't know what to do because he can't handle causing more harm to these two wonderful humans. but then they're both calling to him and they say to come and swim and logan remembers how good he felt when he spoke to both of them, and he pushes aside his fears as much as he can, swimming faster and faster until leo hauls him up on the boat and they're just staring.

but thunder cracks and logan flinches, hard, and finn wraps his hand around logan's arm and pulls him to the center of the boat and gives him something to do and tells him they'll talk when they get away. logan tries to explain it's not going to work–does he remember what happened last time?–and finn and leo tell him to shut up and just focus while they sail away.

and, somehow, they do. leo and finn are strong and skilled and logan is in awe and just trying to assist however he can. one or both of the boys look over every time the thunder booms above them and he just stares into their eyes as he shudders because, despite everything, they're somehow all here.

after hours upon hours, the seas and skies give up. they all fall to the ground and breathe heavily. logan reaches out his hand to leo and rests it next to his tentatively. he apologizes. leo nods, grabs his hand, and pulls him into a hug. finn makes some quip about how pretty they look and logan reaches out his hand to pull him in.

they land back on shore eventually. the gods are not pleased and make the journey take far too long. but it gives them much time to talk. logan learns how finn and leo know each other. he tells them everything–what's the point in hiding, if taking these leaps so far have brought him this much joy? who is he to deny them all the possibility for more?

logan sobs when he gets back on shore–but a different shore. he has told finn and leo about his sisters, and they've all planned to search for them. but first, they want to make a home. sprawling, no boundaries, with grass and trees and neighbors and no ocean as far as the eye can see.

logan isn't sure he'll ever get back on a boat.

finn just wants to wrap up his boys and explore their village.

leo befriends the farmers instantly and the three of them plant a garden.

logan stares out at his new home and smiles.

[popwasabi]

“Who are you?” The scene that defines Chadwick Boseman’s legacy

Yesterday, the world lost a bright and promising, burgeoning talent in Chadwick Boseman.

I had wondered privately for a while if something was wrong with him, as others had as well online, as he appeared increasingly sicker with each interview he gave over the last two years. I thought maybe I had been looking too much into it, not wanting to jump to conclusions about who he was but now gravely we all know why.

The much too young star of films such as “42,” “Marshall,” and of course, “Black Panther” had been fighting a largely private battle with colon cancer for four years.

It was devastating hearing this news yesterday, the man who undeniably left behind a legacy of playing prominent black heroes, both historical and fictional, passed away just as he was starting to truly hit it big. When you begin to realize the man was dealing with cancer as he performed physically demanding roles in the MCU you begin to see the character and determination of a man unwilling to quit in the face of true adversity.

But he clearly wasn’t just doing it for himself when he continued making and promoting NINE more movies despite his diagnosis, afterall no one would’ve blamed the guy for taking it easy these past four years. He’s had many scenes that define his legacy over his all too short career but I feel it can really be summed up in one particular moment from by far his most famous film; “Black Panther.”

Those who know me or have read my work know that I have a fairly cynical relationship with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. While I would not say most of them are “bad” per se, I would say a ton of them are largely interchangeable action comedies with pretty straightforward messages about good vs evil for general audiences. They are largely popcorn escapism and though there is nothing technically wrong with that, I was starved for an MCU film that was sincere about its story finally and had something real to say.

Enter “Black Panther” in early 2018.

“Black Panther” was everything I had long been waiting for in the MCU; a film with a real sense of vision and theme, a killer soundtrack, great supporting characters, a complicated and nuanced villain, and a story that didn’t feel the need to add a joke after every single scene like more typical MCU movies. The tip of that spear of course was Chadwick, who had already proved to be a great Black Panther in one of the few other sincere Marvel flicks “Civil War.” His natural charisma, physicality, and dramatic presence in this role made him a huge standout in frankly the best ensemble cast of any superhero movie ever.

The scene that truly sums up not just the mark “Black Panther” left on Hollywood but Chadwick’s own legacy comes at the very end though (the first of three, of course. It’s an MCU movie, afterall).

T’Challa has defeated his usurper cousin Erik Killmonger, his rule restored in Wakanda but clearly a changed man from the story’s beginning as he reckons with the complicated legacy of his father. He travels to Oakland, the birthplace of Killmonger, with his sister Shuri who he explains the crime committed by their father in this place and how it set off the events of the story. He turns to Shuri, tells her that he has decided to help this afflicted community by creating a Wakandan outreach center for the youth to give them a new hope in life. As he says this he decloaks their ship nearby, surprising the youth already in the area who are immediately in awe of it. One of the kids turns to T’Challa, smiling, a sense of inspiration and intrigue brewing inside, and asks “Who are you?” to which the young King simply smiles, then the credits roll.

It’s a simple scene but it truly speaks to the impact left behind by Chadwick and the importance of representation. 

“Black Panther” is hardly the first starring vehicle for a black man, it’s not even the first black super hero movie but what it made it different is it was the first blockbuster to truly lean unapologetically into its African identity to focus on the inspiration of a story centered around that culture. It showed Hollywood that an action blockbuster not just centered on a black star but centered on African culture had vast widespread appeal.

White kids will never have a shortage of white superheroes to grow up with on the big screen; a diverse palette of Supermans, Spider-mans, Captain Americas, and shit we’re even getting our sixth new Batman actor since 1989 soon. But Chadwick gave black kids their first real Superman of their own. 

In the years since this came out, I have seen the influence, at times, firsthand among the youth. I work part-time as a kids martial arts instructor and each Halloween party we’ve held I’ve seen a few more T’Challas among the costumes represented. When I ask kids, black, white, or Asian, what their favorite superhero is, it always warms my heart to see a kid light up when they say “BLACK PANTHER!”

(Seriously, cute AF)

This goes beyond just my anecdotal observations of course; the film grossed a billion dollars, and there are countless videos online of kids yelling “Wakanda forever!” at the top of their lungs while rocking a Black Panther suit or reciting one of the movie’s memorable lines. It’s beautiful because it speaks to that last scene’s key message; inspiration.

Growing up myself, as a half Asian American, there weren’t a ton of role models who looked like me to take inspiration from. I didn’t really understand how much this could affect me until I finally did start seeing people like myself occupy positions of influence. I didn’t start caring for baseball until I saw a slugger named Hideki Matsui smash a couple dingers in a Yankees’ uniform in the early 2000s. I didn’t care much for martial arts, outside my very early youth, until I witnessed a half Japanese Brazilian named Lyoto Machida KO Thiago Silva at UFC 94 in 2009. I didn’t care much for soccer until a striker named Keisuke Honda played out of his mind in the early rounds of the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

Sometimes you gotta see something happen in order to believe and be inspired by it and it’s easier to visualize it when you see someone who looks like you do it. That’s what representation means and why it’s important.

It’s easy for white America to dismiss the need for representation in media when theirs is so saturated in the culture everyday. Cries of “wHaT aBoUt wHiTe HiStORy mOnTH?!” delivered unironically while their history is proudly given front seat consideration in all forms of media, film, and influence every day. This is why it drives me so crazy when a white person tells me “representation isn’t important” because apparently, they “don’t need it.”

Well motherfucker, of course you don’t need it. You fucking got yours already!

(What every non-white person wants to say when confronted with this tired, out of touch argument...)

“Black Panther” delivered a superhero that not only black children could be proud of and love but someone they could draw inspiration from. Kids are going to want to become film directors cause of this movie, actors, stuntmen, martial artists, scientists, engineers, and so many other different things that the world of Wakanda proudly showcases and it’s all thanks to Chadwick’s leading man performance that made it possible.

Some jokes I’ve heard frequently on the internet is that Chadwick was on somewhat of a quest to play every major black role in story-telling history, what with performances as Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall, James Brown, and of course Black Panther. But I think his 2018 speech at his Alma Mater of Howard really explains why he kept looking to play these major positive black roles.

(I encourage you to listen to the whole thing but the part that’s important here begins at 21:55)

Hollywood likes to pigeon hole certain demographics of people (aka non-white) to play stereotypical roles forever until they are proven to be lucrative in different ways (Qualified Immunity of film-making if you will…). Black people largely could mostly play thugs and drug dealers, Latinx can only be gang bosses and poor servants and gardeners, Asians are either kung fu masters or some other offensive perpetual foreigner. And in worst cases no role at all, instead whitewashed for general audiences (aka white folk). 

Chadwick took a stand that the color of his skin did not define who Hollywood narrowly believed he could perform as and set out to play characters and people who could inspire a new generation of African Americans and show the rest of the country that they were more than a stereotype.

When that young kid in that final scene asks, “Who are you?” and T’Challa smiles its because he knows he’s already changing hearts and minds for the future, just as Chadwick did playing this truly inspirational role.

“Black Panther” is not a perfect movie. I could discuss the ways it could’ve been better and even, less problematic in parts on a different day, but the legacy it leaves behind is one that’s undeniably positive and Chadwick was able to make that a reality. Perhaps he understood that if the world knew his diagnosis it would blunt the impact of “Black Panther’s” release, that if little kids and African Americans alike knew their superhero was already dying it would mar the film’s positivity and influence. I can’t speak for the dead obviously, and in no way am I saying one should just push through a cancer diagnosis and keep it secret, but I can see Chadwick understanding what it would mean for the audience if they just believed for as long as possible that they would have their king of Wakanda forever.

As Robert Downey Jr. said on social media last night “He leveled the playing field while fighting for his life.”

Though I will never know him personally, by most measures Chadwick seemed to be exactly the kind of hero he showed up to be on the big screen and his legacy will ultimately be that of one who looked to inspire others, particularly the next generation until his final breath. If that doesn’t make him a hero, I don’t know what does.

Rest in power, King. Wakanda Forever…

(Via BossLogic)

[starrynite7114]

Invisible Man

A/N: So, I don’t know how this happened, I literally got this out in like a few hours. The idea wouldn’t leave my head so I had to post it. Hope you all enjoy this one too!

I would like to blame for @justahopelessssromantic​ for this one. Kidding, you know I loves you twin!

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @iambabyharry​ : @briannab1234​ : @carlaangel86​ : @marvelmaree​

“How do I look?” You asked EZ as you looked at him through the mirror. 

EZ was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. It crushed him to look at you knowing that he wasn’t going to be the one at the end of the aisle. But he figured it was his fault since he realized too late that he was in love with you.

When did he realize he was in love with you?

It was supposed to be the most romantic night of your life. Angel had Felipe and EZ present when he proposed to you after a fun night at the carnival with the three Reyes men. Angel proposed to you in front of the ferris wheel. The elated smile on your face was engraved in EZ’s memory because it was the moment he realized that he wanted to be in Angel’s position, he wanted to be the one you were happily smiling down on as tears came out of your eyes. 

He heard you say yes and he felt like his world was falling apart.

He realized he was in love with you when his brother asked for your hand in marriage. All he could do was watch and clap, hoping he was expressing a happy smile on his lips. 

“You look gorgeous.” EZ breathed out, watching as your cheeks showed a hint of pink. 

“You’re just saying that.” You replied as you turned to face him. “I’m getting married, Ezekiel.” 

Yeah, you were getting married and it wasn’t to him. 

EZ wanted to be angry, wanted to hate Angel, but he couldn’t. He was happy for both of you, it was on him. He realized it too late and he wasn’t even sure if you even felt something for him. Because for as long as EZ could remember, you hated Angel. His cocky older brother who was a bad influence on him.

====================

“I can’t believe he’s your brother.” You commented as you adjusted your snapback, walking down the street towards your house.

You and EZ just ran into Angel, who purposely tripped his younger brother. Angel was such an asshole and you hated him with a burning passing. Every time you two ran into one another, you could feel the temperature dropping with the icy glares you two would give one another. 

EZ chuckled, shrugging. “Angel’s like that, but he’s actually pretty nice. He always helps me out with baseball.”

“Well, it’s the only thing he could help you with since he’s an idiot.” You countered.

“We’ve been best friends for eight years now, we’re seventeen, how can you hate Angel all these years?”

“How can you not hate Angel?” You retorted. “Well, he’s your brother, I guess it makes sense. I don’t know, he’s just an asshole. He makes it a point to just fuck with me.”

“How so?” This was new to Angel, you’ve never exactly voiced out why you weren’t a big fan of Angel. 

“I don’t know, you know he took me out on valentine’s day?”

“What?” EZ stopped walking. 

“He didn’t tell you?” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “He most likely just didn’t want to fight with you.”

You began to walk, but EZ stopped you. “What do you mean? You never told me you went out. You said you were with your sister.”

“I was, I didn’t lie. I went out with her, but then Angel’s friend Johnny started talking to her so she left me alone. I was about to leave the restaurant, but Angel sat with me.” 

“Wait, you have to go from the beginning.” EZ did not like this one bit. He was very selfish with you, but he didn’t care. You were his friend, not Angel’s. Angel had his choices of women to fuck with, you were off-limits, he knew that. 

“Okay, so my sister wanted to go out for valentine’s day, galentine’s day since she didn’t have a date. So we went to Red Robin then we were going to go to the movies. Well, Johnny and Angel came in and he started talking up my sister. Next thing I know, they were leaving and you know, it’s okay, shit happens.” You couldn’t even look at EZ. You were certain that Angel would have told him, tell him how he took out his best friend and how pathetic it was. The fact that Angel didn’t tell him made you wonder why he didn’t. He most likely was embarrassed. “Anyways, Angel insisted that we stayed so we did then he took me out to the movies.” It was the most alone time you spent with Angel and you hated to say it, but it was actually pretty decent. “Nothing happened.” You weren’t sure why you felt disappointed informing EZ that fact, but you let it roll off. Angel was a player, he wasn’t your type, you weren’t interested. “I’m sure he just stayed with me out of pity since you were out with Emily.”

EZ began walking again, unsure of what to say. One thing he knew for sure was that he had to talk to his brother. 

==========

And he did speak to Angel. 

That’s when he found out that Angel had a crush on you. That Angel and Coco had noticed that you and your sister went to Red Robin while they were across the street at some Taqueria. He convinced Coco to take one for the team and take your sister away while he stayed with you. Angel told him that he had liked you, but he knew that EZ wouldn’t exactly be okay with the idea. He tried his best to keep his interest to himself, but he couldn’t anymore, so he made his move. 

After that talk, EZ was upset at Angel. He had his choice of women, why did he have to like you? EZ cherished your friendship since you were the person he confided in most. There were things he couldn’t tell Emily that he could tell you with no trouble. Angel knew that you were off limits, he explicitly told his brother, that there was no reason for him to be interested in you. But Angel being Angel, the forbidden fruit was the sweetest. 

But EZ also knew that Angel’s interested in you would eventually wane. He was almost a young adult, he knew Angel would want to be as free as a bird and not tied down to one girl.

However, at every turn, his brother surprised him. Angel didn’t officially ask you out on a date till you graduated high school. After your first official date with Angel at the bowling alley, EZ felt the dynamics changed. But he couldn’t even catch up because next thing he knew, he was at Stanford and you were attending a community college to save cost. Every time Angel would visit him up north, he brought you along and EZ hated it. 

For EZ, it was due to the fact that you were best friends and Angel was threatening his position in your life. But that was placed in the back burner when his mother passed away. His life was turned upside down and you were the last thing on his mind, hell Emily was the last thing on his mind. He went to jail and every weekend without a fail, you visited EZ with Felipe and Angel. At times, it was only you and Felipe. EZ found out now that the times that Angel didn’t come was due to you and Angel fighting, so instead of swallowing his pride, Angel didn’t come along. 

He expected Angel's interest to fade, especially when he became part of the club, but instead, Angel fell deeper and deeper in love with you and the same with you. Whenever he observed you two, he couldn’t believe just how enamored his brother was. Angel looked at you as if you held the world and he hung onto every word you had to say. 

EZ was happy for you two, especially Angel. He knew his brother had some underlying issues with him, stemming from the favoritism that Angel felt existed, but he was happy his brother finally had someone, even if it was you.

EZ was the first person that Angel confided in about marrying you. 

Angel came to visit him on his own, after delivering some products to the Stockton charter. 

====================

“I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” Angel told his baby brother, sliding the ring over to him.

“Shit, you two that serious?” EZ wasn’t even sure why he asked that, but the expression on Angel’s face told it all. 

Angel knew that EZ had some feelings for you, but his younger brother just never came to terms with it. Quite frankly, Angel was fine with that, you were his and EZ wasn’t going to change that. If there was one thing in this world he was selfish with, it was you. He would never lose you to EZ. Over his dead fucking body.

“What kind of a fucking question is that? Of course we’re serious. Ezekiel, I’ve been with her for six years.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. This is a big step Angel, do you really want to marry her?”

“Look, I know you have some feelings for her, but you can go fuck yourself, Ezekiel.” He saw the look his brother gave him and he chuckled. “Obviously, you still haven’t realized it, which is fine, it’s a win for me. But just know, I don’t give a fuck if you do figure it out. Y/N has been mine since that Valentine’s Day all those years ago. You’re my brother, I love you, but she’s the one person that I would never let you have.”

====================

Angel didn’t ask you to marry him till two years after he showed EZ that ring. EZ still didn’t realize then, when he did realize, he couldn’t bring it to himself to tell you. There were so many times that he wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t do it. 

====================

“Does he have feelings for her? Is there something going on?” You questioned EZ as you both sat in the living room of the home you shared with Angel.

Angel was over the border, visiting Adelita after the whole Galindo deal came into light. You were secured in your relationship, but there were times that Angel didn’t seem to be with you anymore and it frightened you. You’ve been with Angel for almost ten years and throwing it all away now, it would devastate you. 

“No, you know he loves you.” In his mind, he yelled out how much he loves you, how much he wanted to be the one to hold you at night. The one that you fretted over whenever they were out doing a run. EZ felt like a prick, wanting his brother’s wife, but he couldn’t help himself. After his realization, it was hard to ignore. “He asked you to marry him, he’s been wanting to ask you for years.”

“How do you know?”

“He visited me at Stockton, showed me the ring.” 

You leaned on EZ, his arm wrapping around you. He knew that Angel wouldn’t be thrilled to see him, especially after he found out of his deal, but you invited him here. Angel could go fuck himself. As much as Angel wanted to push him out, tell him he didn’t belong in Santo Padre, he did. For once, things felt right and he wasn’t going to give that way. 

“I love you EZ, I’m so happy you’re home.” EZ’s heart crushed then, hearing you say those words to him, since he knew you didn’t mean it like he did. 

“I love you too.” 

EZ looked up at the ceiling then, trying to prevent himself from shedding tears. It was so difficult to be around you at times. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how much he loves you and how he wished you would pick him over Angel, but after everything he put Angel through, what that would do to you and his already fractured relationship with his brother, he bit his tongue. 

“Mi dulce, I’m home,” you heard Angel call out. The living room was at the back of the house near the kitchen, so you both didn’t hear Angel opening the front door. 

You stood up to greet your fiance and his eyes were immediately on EZ. “Bish needs you,” he informed EZ. “Hey baby,” he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you on your lips. It gave Angel some satisfaction knowing that it killed EZ whenever he saw you two be intimate. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” he gave you a kiss on the cheek since Angel let you go. He walked past his older brother, who didn’t even look his way.

“See you,” you called out after him. “Everything okay?”

“No, but it will be soon. I gotta catch you up.”

====================

“EZ,” you shook EZ who has been silent ever since you asked him how you looked. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry, I just can’t believe you’re marrying my brother. You used to hate him.” He pointed out.

You laughed. “Yes I did, but you know, the more you hate, the more you love.”

“Shut up,” EZ looked at you once again, hating his brother more and more every second that passed. “You ready?”

“Yes, I am.” 

EZ offered you his arm, which you gladly took. Your parents died a few years back and as much as you wanted your sister to walk you down the aisle, EZ offered to walk you down in some bout of craziness. He didn’t know why he did it, but he reasoned that it was supposed to be poetic. 

With him walking you down the aisle to give you away to Angel, it was him giving up on you, that this was the end of the line and he could never turn back after today. He was tempted to confess to you now, but he was almost certain you would laugh in his face. 

Ever since Angel became a more prominent fixture in your life, EZ began to feel the shift and he tried to resist it at first, but he knew it was futile.

In some ways, he felt that he became the invisible man, he watched as you fell for Angel and just let it happen. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you told EZ.

“Anything for you, you know that.”

“This doesn’t change anything, we still gang up on Angel cause he deserves it.”

EZ laughed. “Of course.”

You both heard the bridal march play. EZ kissed your cheek before the doors opened. He looked down the aisle at Angel and could tell his brother was elated, the tears were coming soon, he knew. Angel was an emotional man and once he saw you coming his way, Angel would lose it.

EZ was right. Angel began to wipe his eyes as you both made your way down. The walk seemed to be quick cause the next thing EZ knew, Angel was in front of him. 

“Thanks bro,” Angel gave him a hug before taking your hand and bringing you towards the altar. 

EZ took his place beside you, being the man of honor. He wanted to laugh at how things turned out, but in some ways, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The most important thing was your happiness and you were happy with Angel, there’s nothing else he could ask for.

====================

EZ watched as everyone danced, with Taza spinning you around, your princess dress twirling as he did. He saw the chair beside him being pulled at the corner of his eye. He looked over and found Angel. 

“You doing okay?” Angel knew. EZ was his younger brother and he knew it hurt for him to do what he did, but EZ did it anyway. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? I’m not the one who’s tied down.” EZ attempted to joke with Angel, but he knew it wasn’t carrying over well.

“I know it hurts, but I told you all those years ago. I would never give her up, Ezekiel.” 

“I know, and I’m not going to argue with you. I’m happy for you.” 

“Thank you though, for walking her down the aisle, I know it meant the world to her.”

“Angel, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” Angel took a swig of his beer. 

“Why her? Out of every one here, why did you fall for her?”

Angel shrugged. “If I’m honest with you, I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t care much for her at first, she was your best friend, I thought she was annoying just like you. But then there was this one weekend that I stayed behind while you, mom and pops along with Emily went to the river. She came over to borrow a game of yours and I was sick as shit.” Angel fondly remembered that weekend. You stayed with him the whole weekend, leaving an hour before his family returned. He had a terrible fever and cough, you stayed with him, out of the kindness of your heart even though he never even gave you a glance prior to that weekend. The fact that you cared for him, it placed you in his radar and you just never went away. “She took care of me and after that, I just noticed her. It sounds stupid, I know, and I tried to fight my feelings for her, but then I stopped giving a fuck. I was drawn to her, I wanted to know more about her. It baffled me that I didn’t know anything about the girl who was attached to my brother’s hip. Once she batted those eyes at me, I was a goner.” 

EZ nodded his head. “I hope you never hurt her.”

“Why, cause you’ll come swoop in and take her?” Angel scoffed. EZ had another thing coming if he thought he was going to let you go. 

“No, she won’t leave you now, but I just hope you never hurt her. She’s been through too much, gave up so much for you to fuck up on her now.”

“She has our last name now, EZ. I haven’t fucked up on her after all these years, what makes you think it’ll happen now?”

“You’re right.” EZ downed his beer, placing it on the table. “I am happy for you, regardless of how I feel about her.”

“Thank you,” Angel patted his shoulder. “If you excuse me, I have to dance with my wife.”

EZ chuckled and playfully pushed Angel towards you. He watched as Angel wrapped his arms around you and the laugh that you let out as he did. 

As long as you were happy, that’s what mattered to EZ.

He hung onto that belief and he wasn’t going to let that go.

[chorusnihili]

what is wd gasters past

"A rather broad and invasive question, I'd say, but I suppose I can give you the rundown."

"I was born on the surface while tensions were already high, enough that my parents, assuming that I had them, were gone before I had a chance to remember them. I was mostly raised by a mismatch village of monsters; well-cared for, not the only one that didn't have a specific home."

"I didn't miss living on the surface and never wished to return there, quite frankly. The only thing that made it worth living there is that in my final few years there, I did have something close to an adoptive parent. Who, unfortunately, chose death over leaving their home."

"A lot of monsters like to paint the underground as this hellish, soul-sucking fate worth than death. Personally I never found it that bad. I suppose I never was the type to feel wanderlust or anything of the sort. I was happy merely knowing we were safe and humanity likely had no interest in pursuing us."

"So I dedicated most of my life to making the Underground as good a place as possible. Anything that could make life more bearable. Try to cheer up those affected the worst by the change. During this time, a lot of monsters took up psychology; you can find a lot of studies on stress, despair, and trauma written during this time; techniques for coping and helping loved ones, many of which still hold up to this day."

"Unfortunately given the fact that communication has always been a hassle to me, it ultimately wasn't a field of study that suited me well, although I've been told I'm a good listener."

"So my attention broke from such studies to poking around the world about me. Much of the underground was new and needed to be explored and understood, and, what can I say, I was young and ready to believe that magic could do anything. Except, maybe, restore my eyesight. Heh."

"The migration through the underground was relatively linear. The forests of Home, the snowy landscapes of Snowdin, the rainy marsh of Waterfall, the deep caves of Hotland, and finally, the empty caves of New Home. But New Home was the end. The final stop. Assuming a vaguely dome-shaped barrier forming to the shape of the mountain, we had found it on all sides; the entrance at Home, the exit at New Home, the presumably small entries in Waterfall that human trash falls through, the tunnels in Hotland that the lava flows through. We reached the end; there was nowhere else to go."

"Monsters began to fan out, build permanent civilizations. Asgore and Toriel chose to build their castle and kingdom right on the cusp of the barrier; why, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps it was meaningful, to them. A sign of having conquered the humans, something to put them at ease. I never asked, it never seemed appropriate."

"Although many monsters seemed disappointed that there was nowhere else to go, I found a sense of satisfaction from it. We had discovered everything; there was nothing else that might creep out from the shadows. We had an understanding of the world we now lived in, a map from top to bottom, left to right. And now, all we had to do was reshape it into the world we wanted it to be."

"Much of my early life was uneventful. I spent a lot of time in theoretical research, interested in the topics of how and why magic worked, but specifically, the interaction of two magical forces. Why some attacks seemed to be so devastating and others seemed to do no damage at all.  A spent a fair amount of years analyzing magic, categorizing it, writing formulae for the so called Stats, for LOVE, EXP, HP, ATK, DEF, INV, et cetera, et cetera.  Frankly, the field is incomplete; close enough for most situations, I think, but not perfect.  I found it wasteful to continue efforts on it.  I believe that the main goal of science is to improve life; if the science cannot be applied to do so, then I do not see the point in continuing it.”

“My studies were broad and varied.  Sometimes I’d dip into the health sciences, sometimes I’d dip into architecture.  I’d do odd favors for people, look into anything that caught my interest, sometimes even take up tasks for the King himself; ones of minor interest that he didn’t want to bother the Royal Scientist with.”

“But, the focal point of my studies always came back to energy.  What could we do with it?  How can we harness it?  All monsters are made up of energy, of magic, it’s inherent to our souls, the way we express ourselves, even our body is made of magic, turns into magical dust due to a complicated chemical reaction when HP is depleted.”

“This, of course, lead to my most famous accomplishment.  The idea of using magic to power things had been around forever, before recorded history.  But there was always a mage or monster involved, directly or indirectly powering the thing in question.  I sought to cut out the intentional casting of a spell to induce power.  After all, this entire Underground was full of ambient magic; from previous spells, simply from Monsters existing; recycled, reused, breathed in and out, baked into food and released again:  Why couldn’t the world itself power things?” 

“It turned out to be more complicated than expected; failure after failure taught me that it simply wasn’t feasible to use magic without a soul casting it.  But, we found another way--and to be fair, it wasn’t exactly an idea so much as exploratory research, but research with very promising results.  Promising enough to earn me another scar on my face, heh.  Had one of the other scientists not pulled me out of the way, I might have been destroyed by the CORE before the CORE was even a thing.”

“Nonetheless I was far from discouraged.  I was actually very ecstatic.  Enough so that Asgore had a very hard time calming me down and getting me to explain what had happened and why I had a new crack down my face.”

“I started work on the CORE immediately.  Sketching out blueprints and gathering people to start building the skeletal structure of the building while I put together the intricacies of the mechanism that would create and convert pure energy that could be harnessed and used for whatever purposes we desired.  It took a very long time, but it’s no doubt one of my greatest creations.  Asgore asked me to take up the position of Royal Scientist not long after.  I accepted, of course, I wouldn’t think of declining, but it was a very strange thing to me.”

“It wasn’t long after that when the human child arrived.  I remember hearing about it, one of the other scientists telling me that Asriel had chosen to keep the child.  Keep the child, I had thought, like a pet, like a person would choose to keep a dog or a cat.  I thought it frankly ridiculous, but having the human child around brought a new era of hope to the kingdom and, I, ... couldn’t resist being pulled along.  I personally thought that the idea of peace between humans and monsters was ridiculous, but it was such a pleasant idea and the people were so happy...”

“Of course, it didn’t last.  In a single night, both the human child and Asriel had passed away.  The duo had broken through the barrier, only to seal their own deaths.  It was a travesty.  A whirlwind of horrors, one after another.  The devastation, the despair--it was unlike anything I had ever experienced, even when humanity had first sealed us underground.  At least then, we had the relief of peace.  Now, we had nothing.”

“The King declared war on humanity.”

“It was a dark time.”

“The peaceful life I had was replaced by one of fear and anxiety.  I knew what humans were capable of.  I lived through it, I wore the mark of their hostility on my skull--and Asgore wanted to willingly throw us back into that over revenge?  We wouldn’t survive.  There was no way we’d survive.  But if there was any chance of giving us any sort of fighting chance, I was going to find it.” 

“My research turned from finding ways to make the underground better to combat.  Once again, energy proved to be my friend.  I revisited old research about LOVE and EXP and ATK and DEF--and wrote up a hypothesis about another state.  ITK.  Intent to Kill.  Unlike LOVE and EXP, which are slowly, solely increasing values, ITK rapidly fluctuates and acts as a modifier on attack.  Even a soul with a LOVE of 1 can do an extreme amount of damage if they, in a particular moment, are filled with the desire to kill the one they are striking.”

“Monsters aren’t made for war.  In general, monsters aren’t made for hurting each other.   It’s one of the many reasons we were slaughtered so mercilessly.  So I created a ... weapon.  That could circumvent that weakness.  The ITK Blasters, as I called them, could take even the smallest ITK and multiply it to do horrific damage.”

“I did other research on the topic as well.  How to convert HP into a temporary boost of ATK.  With these two advancements...even a monster as relatively weak as I am could be incredibly strong.”

“I wanted to perfect the techniques before I tried teaching them to anyone.  But, such things never came to pass.  Asgore lost his will to continue seeking war.  He knew that he had only declared war in a fit of rage and to give his people hope.  So rather than continue killing, he wanted to find a different way to bring everyone hope.  He wanted to find a way to break the barrier without anymore bloodshed.  He asked me to research the human souls.”

“...”

“I wanted no parts of it.  We got into a ... rather nasty fight.  I said a lot of things I regret.  I called him a coward for bending to the will of his people instead of doing what was right.  I told him that any attempt to breach the barrier would result in the complete extinction of our species.  I told him that it was his job as king to protect us, not lead us to our death.”

“I was angry and afraid, and I took it out on the wrong monster.”

“It’s about at this point that you really cannot understand my history without a basic understanding of how time flows.  I’ll spare you the lecture of multiple timelines and parallel realities, but at the very least, you must understand that the flow of time is... well, it is inherently linear, but, consider it like a... I want to say a Turing Machine.  Or perhaps, a VHS Tape.  The same segments can be replayed again and again, can be overwritten, can change from iteration to iteration.”

“So the fact that Asgore died in this timeline...and is still alive in the current timeline...it may at first seem contradictory, but it is not, I assure you.”

“Asgore’s death hit the Underground hard.  Undyne took over as Queen, but the knowledge that the last remaining member of the Royal Family was gone still loomed over everyone’s heads.  Undyne was more determined than Asgore ever was to free the monsters and I felt like there was nothing I could do.”

“So...There was little I did.  I was overwhelmed with grief and hatred.  I kept at the research.  I honed the abilities, again and again and again.  I drove myself to exhaustion, I isolated myself.  I barely slept and ate.  I neglected my duties and while the others understood I was grieving, it eventually got to the point that Queen Undyne delivered the ultimatum that I had to either get my act together or surrender my position as Royal Scientist.  I resigned without any argument.”

“Much of the time is a blur.  Most of my studies and research done with poor practices and hardly documented.  The research that lead to me creating Sans falls into this. I wished to know if...  

“Of course, two monsters can create another soul.  This much is obvious, monsters reproduce on a regular basis, enough that in the modern day, there’s an ongoing population crisis for monsters that need certain environments.  But I wanted to know if ... a monster, could theoretically, singularly donate a portion of their soul and create another living monster out of it.”

“This is probably a piece of research that very much fits the criteria of not stopping to think whether or not I should try to do so.”

“It required extracting part of my soul.  Which, to do so without killing the monster, requires a massive power source...luckily, or unluckily, I had the entire CORE at my disposal.  So I constructed a machine that could, indeed, extract part of my soul.  What resulted was the most painful experience of my life and left me comatose for six months.  It’s also the cause of the circular scars in my palms.”

“I hadn’t intended to extract two pieces of my soul, but, it happened, whether through oversight or simply as a matter of how the procedure was carried out.  I used the smaller piece to create Sans; intending to keep the larger piece for further study.  I destroyed everything used in the experiment afterwards.  I felt it was something that no monster should have the power to do.”

“That’s not to say I regret creating them.  I don’t, and nothing will ever change that opinion, even knowing some of the terrible things they’ve done in other timelines.  But I do regret the methods that lead to their creation.”

“I don’t know why Sans is so weak.  And I resisted the urge to try to figure it out.  There’s a fine line between a healthy interest in your child’s health and treating them as a science experiment, and I ... wanted to stay as far away as possible from that line.  He’s fine the way he is.  He doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“That didn’t stop me from using the second piece of my soul to create Papyrus to look after him, though.  Or teaching him magic to the best of my ability, even teaching him how to use the Gaster Blasters.”

“Having them...helped.  A lot.  I won’t say whether I was very good at it, but I enjoyed being a father very much.  The grief was still heavy, but I was able to start returning to a somewhat normal life, and even start following what was going on in the Underground again.  I learned of Doctor Alphys’s research on the human souls, and though I personally disagreed with it... decided to look into it in Asgore’s honor.”

“My immediate thought was that her ideas about Determination could mesh well with my previous research about soul extraction, albeit with a few modifications--although I had destroyed the equipment I used for the process, I remembered it well enough.  So I got to work on a theoretical DT Extractor; but the further I got with it, the more horrified I became.”

“I simply couldn’t tolerate the idea of it.  Humans or not, already dead or not--the mere idea of extracting the literal lifeforce out of a soul...  No.  It was not a process I would condone.”

“I had just finalized my decision to destroy the blueprints when I fell.”

“It was... a laughably simple mistake, really.  The CORE is designed to rearrange itself to prevent the wear from the heat from causing too much damage in any one area.  The doors pneumatically seal themselves to prevent egress during this time but...  I was simply too distracted by the blueprints and I opened the door, and walked through anyways.”

“There were no further safeguards.  There was nothing I could do to save myself.  It was over before I had a chance.”

“...”

“I don’t regularly talk about my time in the void.  Not because doing so bothers me, but because it’s simply... indescribable.  When I awoke, I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t speak.  There was no me, but my consciousness existed.  I could see and hear thousands of timelines at once, as if I was standing in an arena, with each and every seat filled with a television playing a different movie.  A jumbling mess of information.”

“I have no idea how long I was there for.  It was like learning to exist all over again.  Step by step.  Learning how to move closer to visions of interest.  Learning how to seep into those visions.  Learning how to block out the immense noise.  Learning how to speak without a body.  Learning how to see the void.  Learning how to construct a body out of it.  Learning how to hunt down my timeline.”

“In many ways, it was a rebirth, and with each and every step, I lost more of myself.  I lost myself to the aching hole of my soul being missing.  I lost my conscience, I lost my heart.  I dedicated everything to the endless goal of stitching myself back together again.”

“I learned so much about the reality I live in.  How malleable it and time is.  I evolved into something grotesque, something that shouldn’t be alive.  I gained power that no monster or human should have.  Things, and even souls, could be changed at my whim.  And yet the one thing I truly wanted seemed to be impossible.”

“I did a lot of terrible things while I was stuck like that.  Some were intentional, some less so.  Many were reset thanks to Flowey, others will never be fixed.”

“I have Sans to thank for finally helping me to achieve the goal, even if not fully.  He built a machine that gathered enough of my soul that... I’m able to manifest my original form and can think clearly once again.”

“Even so...  It didn’t change the fact that my soul is still shattered, somehow held together by the tug-of-war between Determination and Void, and that my fall into the Void reset the timeline into a state where I never existed.”

“And that leads us to now.  The Gaster you currently speak to exists in a timeline that has made it to the surface, though I’m not particularly fond of being up there and generally hide in my lab in the CORE.”

“Well, I certainly hope you didn’t expect even a rundown of over a thousand years to be short.”

“...Or, were you posing the question to someone other than myself...?”

[wifeofkimtaehyungofbts]

Chapter 11

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 2,379

>> Notes: I��m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible. Please bear with my hectic schedule! You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

**

“Hey"

I jolted at the sudden voice echoing against the walls of the eerily quiet changing room of the McDonald’s.

Jungkook was leaning against the door. His apron was thrown over his shoulder and he cocked his head at me.

“Wanna go out tonight?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him right. Jeon Jungkook. The guy that hardly ever talks to anyone. The handsome guy who shies away from girls at the cashier trying to get his number. The guy who leaves work without sparing a second for an after-work chat with his colleagues. Wants to go out with me?

I continued to stare at him in shock. Instead of breaking the awkward silence between us, he stared back at me. His dark chocolate brown eyes looked deep. Not in the romantic sense. It almost seemed like there was an entirely different person behind them. If the person differed from the one who stood before me in a good way or a bad way, I couldn’t tell. But what I could tell was that if I didn’t reply fast, we'd be staring into each other for all of eternity.

“Don’t you have work?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are supposed to fill me in tonight because Felix had an emergency at his house and couldn’t make it”

“I got someone else to cover for me" he shrugged.

I wanted to know more but I figured it didn’t really matter as long as my shift was covered and he didn’t get into trouble either.

“Gimme a minute. I need to wash my face” I said turning my back on him.

As I busied myself removing my hair tie and gathering my hair in a bun, I felt someone lightly brush against my back.  I wanted to turn but it felt too cold.

“You look beautiful Y/N" Jungkook whispers, his warm breath blowing the hair at the top of my head.

In reflexive panic, I grabbed my bag pack and dashed to the girl’s bathroom. I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I tried to shake off the eerie coldness I felt a few seconds ago.

Why did Jungkook come onto me so suddenly? And what’s with the compliment? I mean sure, thank you but it felt so off. He didn’t sound sweet or shy when he said it. He sounded stern, like he was stating a matter of fact I better believe else.... else?

Else what, Y/N? He was going to kill you??

I slapped myself for overthinking and washed my face before hurrying to the front. My colleagues were busy with customers so I couldn’t wave them goodbye. I stepped outside to the chilly air, spotting Jungkook standing by the road. I walked up to him and smiled warmly.

He looked down at me and smiled back. “Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t!” I giggled, already drooling at the mere idea of pizza.

He laughed as we started walking towards the Arthur’s Pizzeria around the corner.

**

We were seated by the window across from each other. The table was too big for just us two, but we were glad no one else attempted to sit with us. It was fine, just the two of us.

We ordered our pizzas and spoke about ourselves as we waited for the food.

I found out Jungkook is from Busan and he was studying music at the campus. He was in fact a top graduate from Busan Arts School along with some guy whose name Jungkook doesn’t remember. He likes to play video games and tries new activities every weekend. Last week he had attempted fishing with a friend of his and they ended up catching no fish but a cold so bad, Jungkook requested for an extension on his vocal exam. Oh, and he hates reading.

I told him about the time I submitted the wrong thesis paper for my semester end assignment and had to retake the whole module all over again in the next semester. He asked my favourite colour, movie and book. He judged me for being a book worm and laughed when I pouted at him in annoyance.

Our food arrived soon and we didn’t talk as we devoured the delicious, thin, saucy pizza. I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye but I made no attempt to eat decently. It’s not like I want to impress him or anything anyways.

Three girls seated at the table next to us wooow’ed at the sight of Jungkook. They turned their attention to me and stared on with disgust.

“What’s someone like him doing with someone like her?”

“God knows! See this is why we never get to experience anything good. Because the good guys are always after someone so random”

“It must be true love if he actually chose someone like her. I mean, look at her hair!”

I could even hear their eye rolls as loud as I heard their words. It pricked and I found myself slowing my eating. I suddenly couldn’t chew anymore. I felt restrained. Like someone had put handcuffs and a leash on me and I had to strain against them to take a bite of my pizza.

Growing up, I haven’t had the most stable family. My fatherless life had involved trying to work odd jobs since I was 13 and missing out mile stones other girls got to experience during their teen years. My first kiss wasn’t under a starry night with my first love, it was rushed and filled with greed at the car park of the local book store. And he cheated on me a week later with the girl who sat next to me at chemistry. The man I first shared a bed with was not looking for a long-term relationship and left me when he found a full time, high wage job at his uncle’s company in New York. My mother was crippling, losing a bit of herself every passing day until one day she came down the stairs to have her tea and I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. My sisters were still too young to understand life and I didn’t want them to see the world as I saw it. I wanted them to have a happy childhood and experience life as any growing child should. They were sent away to my uncle’s and although they were more than willing to also let me stay, I needed away. I left my mother as she screamed indecent words at me one night and took the subway train that led me here. The letter of acceptance from the university was the only good thing that has ever happened to me. I soon became best friends with my room mate who is the polar opposite of me but somehow, we spoke to the same stars and saw life in the same light. My life has always been rushed, difficult to comprehend and there was no easy way through. Having to hear the body that pulled me through those sleepless nights of putting my scared sisters to sleep and locking their doors so my alcoholic mother couldn’t hurt them with her drunk violence, the same body that has cried itself to sleep after carrying stack after stack of recycle paper up 7 flight of stairs for very little pay and a terrible neck and back ache, the same body that is still living and breathing and pushing through, is not good enough, is less, is devastating. It makes me want to cry.

I didn’t ask for such a difficult life. Additionally, my face is the only remainder of who my mom used to be; I am the spitting image of her. The her that was over flowing with positivity and had a heart of gold. The her that lovingly brought my sisters and I into this world and took us cycling and cooked our favourite pasta for our birthdays. To think this face, this remainder of what she looked like, who she was, is less makes my heart crinkle around the edges and burn in the deepest pits of its centre.

“All good?”

I look up to see Jungkook looking at me worriedly.

“Oh yes! I just.... should stop eating else I’ll throw up" I laughed awkwardly.

Jungkook continued to munch on his pizza as he stared at me. He was trying to read the worry in my eyes, the sad drop of the corners of my lips. I couldn’t hide my emotions on my face even if the world depended on it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now Jungkook presses me for answers and stories. Stories I’d rather keep hidden like I have all this time.

“Okay" Jungkook hums as he takes another slice of pizza. I look at him, grateful he dropped the subject. I watched on as he ate. He didn’t once lift his eyes to mine. He busied himself finishing up his own pizza and the remainder of mine. I wasn’t shocked he ate so much given the fact that he was full of muscle and stamina.

I looked out the window at the busy street. People walked by, carrying the weight of their lives on their shoulders. The lights from cars and street lights looked like stars on Earth from where I was seated. I felt a sudden sense of closure knowing I could disappear into the night, walk mindlessly around these people and no one would know who I am. I’d have no one to explain or compare myself to. Nobody would know what’s going on inside my head. Frankly, nobody would care enough to know. And it felt nice. To not be alive and surviving. I wanted to be light, float over the Earth and find my purpose at my own pace without trying to catch up with the rest of the world only to fall short of breath and lost.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’ll listen if you share” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth with a tissue. He has cleaned the trays of pizza without leaving behind even a trace of any food being there. I smiled kindly at his words.

“Thank you Jungkook. But I’m not thinking about anything that needs concerning attention”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know he noticed it. He pays the bill entirely despite me fussing about wanting to split the bill. We make our way back to my house, the breeze a little colder and stronger than yesterday, reminding us of the oncoming winter.

**

I pace the living room painfully slow, waiting.

Waiting for her to come back home.

Daffodil.

I have been practising what I wanted to say as I give her the present over and over again in my head. I had wrapped it neatly in a brown paper bag and tied with an orange ribbon I found on her study table. The wrapping was not at all attractive, but it was neat and I hoped she would see the value of the gift that’s wrapped rather than the wrapping itself.

I look at the time. 09.19pm.

She was supposed to be back a long time ago. I heard her making arrangements yesterday to leave early from work today. I had cleaned the entire house; sweeping the wooden floor boards, removing cobwebs and brushing off the dust that had collected on top of the cupboards and TV.

I did not have a phone on me and even if I did, its not like I had her number anyway. I sighed loudly and slumped on the cold floor. My eyes kept fluttering, threatening to close for hours. My shoulders felt heavy and I couldn’t pull myself up off the floor. I rested my head on the floor and allowed my eyes to close. The coldness from the floor piercing my right cheek was the last thing I was aware of before I drifted off to a sleep full of nightmares.

**

I saw it again.

The playground.

The swing.

The boy.

I was playing in the park around the corner from school. I had sand in my old, torn shoes and my school tie was hanging loosely around my neck. My hair was a mess and sweat dripped off the ends of my bangs. I was having too much fun running around to stop. I sat at one of the swings and turned to face the boy seated in the other.

“Hey!” I waved brightly.

He did not respond, his head bent low and slowly swinging. He had dark brown hair and a piercing in his left ear. I could not see his face because it was surprisingly too dark on the side of the swing he was on. It was almost as if a dark cloud was looming over him, night fallen on the side of the Earth he was on.

I turned away and focused on swinging as high up as I can. However, my merry only lasted for a short while because I had swung a little too high and as I swung back, I was thrown off the seat and face first onto the dirty sand. I got up spitting sand out of my mouth. Any average person would have shrieked in disgust and run straight home for a good shower at what just happened. But I just laughed, almost choking on my spit as I attempted to spit sand out of my mouth.

“Pathetic”

The boy suddenly spoke. His voice was soft, melodic and had a boyish charm to it.

He’d make a great singer if he could sing, I thought to myself.

I turned to look at him, mirth sparkling in my eyes.

“Ha! So you can speak! I thought-” I began but had to stop at the sight before me.

My eyes grew wide in terror as the boy lifted his head to reveal a face with no features except for a gaping hole where his mouth should be. A dark liquid oozed out of his ears, supposed-mouth and where his eyes should’ve been.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream again and again, but no sounds came out.

**

Tag list: @tae-n-u​

[elletromil]

Collect moments, not things

So some of you might remember Love is a fabric which never fades, that fic where Harry was dragon and pining after Eggsy.

I was always supposed to write this fic too, where instead of Harry being a dragon, Eggsy was the dragon with the hoard. (And a third one where they both are dragons and hopefully this one won’t take 5 years too xp). And well, inspiration and motivation have slowly been coming back to me this week and I managed to finish this one :D

I hope you all enjoy!

Collect moments, not things

When he finally figures out what Eggsy’s hoard is comprised of, Harry feels a bit like an idiot.

Not that it’s particularly obvious at a first glance, but they have been living together for a few months now. And yes, they’ve both been sent on a couple different missions during that time, but that’s still no excuse to how unobservant he has been.

He’s supposed to be a bloody spy. He should have picked up on Eggsy’s habit sooner than he did.

And it doesn’t soothe his pride that it only truly registered when Eggsy asked him for a pen one evening after the one he was using ran out of ink.

The worse is, he can only blame himself for taking so long at figuring out what was Eggsy’s hoard.

Not only is Eggsy not hiding it in any way, he has also made it very clear that he was comfortable answering any questions Harry could have about dragon culture. Or if he wasn’t, that he wouldn’t hesitate to tell him to fuck off.

Whatever hero-worship Eggsy once had for him is long gone and quite frankly, Harry much prefers it that way.

However in Harry’s defense, there is also a perfectly sensible reason why he didn’t want to ask Eggsy about this particular thing.

While his friendship with James had not made him an expert on dragons at all, he’s still picked up on a few things over the years.

Especially on the romance side given the fact that James had very publicly courte Richard and Richard, while not a dragon himself, had taken it as a challenge, one he was very set on winning.

Considering the two ended up married within a year of being introduced to each other, he’s certain Richard did consider himself the winner.

Much like James did.

All this to say, he’s very much aware of just how important a part a dragon’s hoard plays when it comes to such things as courting.

And he very much wants Eggsy to not only feel like Harry accepts and welcomes every aspects of his heritage, but that Harry loves him for it.

After all, it is part of what makes Eggsy, well, Eggsy, just like his gaudy vests and winged shoes or like his liking for medical dramas or like his unwavering loyalty to someone once that person has earned it.

So yes, Harry wants Eggsy to know that Harry is willing to learn. That he is willing to put in the work to make their relationship work. Which, admittedly, he would have done exactly the same had Eggsy been simply human like him, but since he’s not, Harry can’t just ignore that part of his lover.

And hoards… Well hoards are a damn essential part of being a dragon.

It’s their most prized possessions. They can go to war over one.

There’s not bigger honor than to be trusted with any part of it. Or be included in it in any way.

So while he really wasn’t expecting Eggsy to hoard paper of all things, who is he to judge? It’s not the same thing, but Harry does collect dead butterflies and other bugs.

So now he’s got to think of a suitable addition to Eggsy’s hoard, one that would remind him of Harry and hope that Eggsy will accept it.

Because even if Harry doesn’t wish to be married within the year, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about it already.

***

As he looks over the newest addition in the hidden space of the sitting room, Harry is suddenly stricken by the fear that maybe, this is a bit much.

After all, he’s not even sure Eggsy will accept the first part of his gift and now he’s also trying to change where Eggsy will keep his hoard. It doesn’t matter that this new fireproof safe is one the best on the market, it’s really not Harry’s place to tell Eggsy how to protect his hoard.

Of course that’s the precise moment Eggsy comes home.

Slightly panicked, he close the door to the safe over what really is his gift, but doesn’t have the time to do anything about the fake wall before Eggsy finds him in the room.

“Didn’t know you were getting a new safe,” he safe in lieu of a greeting, pressing close to his back, arms wrapping around his waist. It would take a stronger man than Harry Hart is to not lean back in him.

“Actually, this is for you,” he admits after turning into the embrace just enough to press a kiss to Eggsy’s cheek.

“Oh?” Eggsy lets him go and steps closer to take a better look, but he doesn’t seem angry or insulted, merely curious, which is kind of reassuring. “Fuck me, Harry! That’s like the latest model on the market. It cost a fortune!” Not entirely accurate, but Harry will agree that if it wasn’t for Kingsman more than generous salary, he probably would never have considered that particular safe. “Not that I don’t appreciate,” Eggsy adds quickly, “but you know the one you let me have in the office does the job too?”

He still doesn’t look mad in any way, just slightly confused. Harry can work with confusion.

“Well yes, but also no, considering what you’re keeping in there. The safe in the office wasn’t made with fireproofing as the main characteristic. This one was. And well, it’s considerably bigger and you were bond to run out of place sometime soon.”

He hasn’t checked of course. While he certainly could, what with Eggsy’s current safe being Harry’s first and his training as a spy, they both respect each other’s need to keep some thing private from the other.

But Eggsy has never tried to hide the papers he put in every night and so Harry doesn’t feel bad about making that educated guess.

Eggsy doesn’t seem to mind either if his pleased smile and the sweet blush spreading on his cheeks is any indication.

And as if to prove Harry just how stupid he had been for worrying about him not liking his gift, Eggsy steps on his tiptoes so he can kiss his cheek. “Thank you Harry. That’s- that’s one of the more thoughtful thing anyone has given me.”

He’s still standing close so Harry is the one to wrap his arms around him this time and hold him tight. They stand like that for some time, enjoying the peaceful moment.

Then Harry remembers that the safe wasn’t even originally part of the gift he had planned to make and slowly walks them close enough that he can open it.

Or at least, attempt to open it. The endeavour is slightly hindered by the fact that Eggsy is refusing to step out of his embrace. And to be honest, Harry doesn’t truly want to let go either.

After longer than his pride could take it if not for the quiet chuckles Eggsy unsuccessfully muffle against his shoulder, the safe is opened once more.

Eggsy stops laughing as soon as he glances inside, gasping softly. “It this-” He doesn’t finish whatever he was trying to ask, his hands reaching towards the safe before he stops himself, fingers clenching into fists.

Harry presses a kiss against his temple before taking hold of his hands and laying them on the first colourful pile.

“This is for you, yes. All of it.”

Carefully, with something akin to reverence, Eggsy takes the first sheet to inspect it closer. It’s one of the simpler paper Harry has bought him, a very light blue without any texture. What makes it deserve a place among all the different papers he’s been buying for Eggsy over the last couple of weeks however is the subtle golden watermark of a butterfly at the bottom of the page.

Eggsy notices it immediately of course and trails a gentle finger over the design.

“I’m… I’m not sure if this is okay. I hope it is. That you will accept this gift even if it’s a bit selfish of me. But I really want you to have a little part of me in your hoard.”

Whatever reaction Harry was expecting from Eggsy over his gift, it wasn’t for him to burst out into laughters. It’s a good thing for his ego that he can tell there is nothing mocking in it, but he’s still not sure how he should take it.

Thankfully, Eggsy doesn’t laugh for long and after putting the sheet of paper back in the safe, he turns around and tugs Harry down into a deep kiss.

“I love you so much Harry,” he says after they’ve caught their breath again, “but you’re an idiot if you think you’re not already part of my hoard.” Only the kisses he peppers along his jawline prevents Harry from feeling insulted.

“What do you mean, I’m already part of it?” Try as he might, he can’t think of any instance he gave some kind of paper to Eggsy. Not even a post-it note or a grocery list.

“You think I’m hoarding paper right?” Eggsy annoyingly answers with a question of his own.

“Aren't you?” Two can play the game and Eggsy snorts with amusement at how petulant Harry sounds.

“Nope, not really.” It’s more devastating than he thought it would be to find that that he was mistaken about that. To realise that he obviously doesn’t know Eggsy as well as he should. Before shame can get a good hold on his heart heart however, Eggsy cups his cheeks in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “But even dragons would have made the same assumption you did. And the only reason it’s not really my hoard is simply because I learned very young it was best not to keep anything physical.”

He frowns at that, partly in confusion, partly because it wakens an old guilt in him, the one he will carry to his tomb for having failed to protect Eggsy as he probably should have after Lee’s passing. Eggsy must feel it because he huffs in mild rebuke before letting him go.

“Come on, let me show you.”

Harry lets himself get dragged upstairs to their shared office without protesting, consciously pushing back the guilt as he tries instead to figure out what exactly could be Eggsy’s hoard if it’s not really paper. The ink maybe? But that’s physical too…

Then Eggsy puts a few sheets of paper in his hands.

“Come on, read them.” His expression is a worrying mix of dread and excitement, but there is also the familiar set in his jaw that means he won’t budge from his position and so Harry doesn’t try to tell him they don’t have to do this now. Or ever really.

There doesn’t seem to be anything special about the paper in his hands. He thinks he can even spots a few napkins inside the safe before he refocus his attention on the words that are written on the pages he’s holding. Eggsy told him to read after all.

Each sheet has a date and a few sentences neatly written over them.

-

July 27th

Came back from a mission in the middle of the night. Harry was fast asleep. But when I got into bed, he still rolled over to hold me without ever waking up.

-

November 2nd

Harry ordered from the new Indian place tonight. Best food ever.

-

November 16th

Went on a walk with Harry. I forgot my gloves. Harry gave me one of his and then we hold hands the whole way.

-

March 4th

Harry and Daisy made cupcakes. There was flour everywhere. I am never leaving them unattended in the kitchen again.

-

They all read like journal entries.

Like short capsules of happiness that happened on a particular day.

“Eggsy?” He’s not sure what he’s asking because he fears that he’s only seeing what he wants to see.

“Memories,” Eggsy answers anyway in a quiet voice. “That’s what I’m hoarding. All the happy ones.”

There’s something shy to his smile now, so very different from his usual confident grin and Harry simply has to kiss him.

And as Eggsy all but melts into the contact, Harry swears to himself that every day they spend together will bring so many happy moments to Eggsy that he won’t know what to do with them all.

[himbowelsh]

Hello! Can I please request the Valentine‘s Day Alphabet for Malarkey please? That would be wonderful, Thank you in advance!!! 😍

valentines day alphabet  ( accepting! )

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

He’s a hugger. Just a very physically tactile person  ---  like, Don speaks about three love languages at once, and honestly loves giving affection more than he likes recieving it? While he thinks very little of clapping people on the back of hugging them, he’s also very eager to do things for the people he loves, in order to show his devotion and dependability; he might not be able to fix the leak in his mom’s sink, but he really wants to try! And spending time with someone, making memories, is very important to him, so Don loves having people whose company he can just be comfortable in.

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Don has a very healthy appreciation for flowers, and a keen eye when picking them out; bouquets are his go-to for any family celebrations, and he’ll usually find them pre-arranged at the florists and pick out whatever appeals most to him. He’s tried to look into flower language, but found it overall goofy, and didn’t felve too deep into it.

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

Chocolate! Literally just  ---  chocolate everything. It’s got chocolate on it, he’ll take it! Actively despises white chocolate’s existence, but would beg on his knees for a Snickers bar.

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Don...  would love to do something unique. Fun and unique. Maybe go to a dog park, even if you guys don’t have a dog. Maybe go roller skating! Maybe rock climbing, or to a weird museum exhibit...  something exciting, where he and his partner can both enjoy themselves, laugh, and learn something new about each other. More than anything, he wants to make some memories to smile back on later.

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Please give him hugs. He relishes them, he cherishes them, he needs them. Don will usually be the one to initiate, but if someone hugs him first? Ooh, he just loves it. His hugs are very secure, very warm  ---  sometimes a little too enthusiastic, if he grabs someone while excited, but he always means well.

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

He doesn’t try that hard, to be honest. Don’s got a straightforward, good-natured manner; while he’s not a talented flirt  (if he tries to hard, he inevitably says something ridiculous)  his milkshake still brings plenty of takers to the yard.

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

He doesn’t always get it right, but he definitely always tries. Don’s got a proud record of never missing a birthday or holiday, even if his gifts are...  questionable sometimes. (”Why did you give me a used toaster for Christmas? Where did you get it? Is it yours? There’s still bread inside ---”)

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

Quick  ---  dangerously so. Don is a lover, not a fighter, and he’s got such a big heart; his capacity for love is outstanding, and he gives it freely without a clear understanding of how ephemeral it is. He doesn’t think things through, like, “I shouldn’t fall for this person because they’re dating someone already” or “I shouldn’t let this guy become the best friend I’ve ever had because he could get blown up in a Belgian forest tomorrow”. Don doesn’t let himself care for people. It just happens, and he’s really helpless to stop it.  

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He has to get to a certain point in the relationship....   but he’ll probably be the first to say it, and once he’s started, there’s no stopping him. He wants to say it all the time, just to feel the words bloom like a flower inside his chest. He loves his partner, he loves them, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Here’s the thing  ---  Don needs trust in a relationship. That’s one of his biggest things. His partner is a confidante, someone he feels safe sharing his emotions with, and he can’t do that if he doesn’t believe he can trust them. Don’s not the type to overreact if his partner goes out with friends, or if he spots another person flirting with them. He’ll take it in good humor. As long as they have that bond, he trusts them completely...  and would be devastated if it were ever betrayed.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Don’s kisses are 97% concentrated emotion, and that translates through his every action; he’s hesitant, he’s eager, he’s tender all at once. He pulls his partner close, a hand firmly planted on their waist; the other’s likely to find the small of their back, steadying him, because Don’s the sort of person who needs to anchor himself while kissing. Gentle is the best word, because he would never want to overstep a boundary  (he’s a gentleman); he is very in-tune with his partner’s feelings, going only as quickly as they’ll let him.

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

So many people!! So many!! Don loves his family deeply, and has such a wide circle of friends that he cares for with devotion. Don is just the sort of person who loves people easily, and when he does, he puts it all on the line for them. 

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   is morning or night a more romantic setting?

What’s wrong with afternoon? Cozy, not to hot, not too cold, some nice sunshine...  and he still gets to sleep in.

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

A lot of energy, not much finesse. Don is extremely eager to please...  which can be a great thing, but also cause problems at times. He’s not clumsy, but does tend to take more risks than he should. If he thinks he can lift his partner up? Let’s try it. If this surface looks stable enough? Let’s hop on! This has led to some...  mishaps. Thankfully, Don knows how to appreciate an absurd situation. He’s not afraid to laugh at himself in the middle of the act, and this makes it easy for his partner to feel at ease as well. It’s very important to Don that his partner feels comfortable; he would never enjoy anything too rough, anything that would leave them in pain in any way. Enjoys being told what to do. Probably pretty into body worship? He just...  loves to admire his partner, loves to make them feel good, and is willing to devote all his energy towards the cause.

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

He’s a pretty simple guy, but is well-spoken in his own way  ---  not a poet, by any means, but has a particular way of getting his point across that resonates.

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Someone who loves to laugh, who brightens any room they walk into; who can be gentle and gregarious in equal measure; someone who doesn’t mind silence, and who understands that some days are not always good ones. They absolutely have to be an animal lover. If they like music, wonderful! If they can bake...  like, Don really likes baked goods, so that’s amazing. If they have a kind heart? That’s an absolute must. He’s got a weakness for bright eyes and dimples.

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He’d ask, and actually be quite firm about it  ---  he doesn’t want to be asked, he’s got a plan, and it’s going to be great. Don’s the sort of guy to recruit his friends on a whole elaborate proposal, and would love public proposals  ---  but before doing anything, he’d test the waters to the extreme, dropping hints left and right just to see how his partner reacts and if they’re open to the idea. He wouldn’t propose unless he was 99% certain of their response. Frankly, Don’s not the most subtle about it, so by the time he finally drops the question, his partner probably sees it coming a mile away.

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s sure got a romantic soul, but life’s out to prove him wrong.

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

Don had his fair share of elementary school girlfriends, and was the favorite of a few teachers  (he was an adorable kid, okay?)  but none really stole his young heart.

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

He wants to, so desperately. He wants to believe in love, to believe that some people are right for each other and simply meant to be. He definitely believes that love is the strongest force in the universe, and that once someone enters your heart they can never really leave it... but true love will always be a question, until he experiences it.

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

...  my man...  lost five of his closest friends in the span of a week...   his heart has been stomped on, smashed, steamrolled, ground up, and used as seasoning for someone else’s soup. The last thing he needs is more heartbreak.  (Outside of that, like...  Don’s the sort of person who takes things very personally, and awful things...  wear on him over a long period of time. His heart is very strong, but it is tired.)

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

Definitely doesn’t take it seriously, but he enjoys it! It’s a good opportunity to go on a romantic date, if he’s got a willing partner, and to get creative about it  ---  because whoops, he forgot to book a restaurant in advance, so now they’re going to have to go to the park and feed ducks or something.

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

Yes! Absolutely! He’d love to get married! Like, it’s not something he’s ever given much thought about, but the idea of a happy family really appeals to him  ---  not to mention, having something reliable and stable to come home to at the end of every day.

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

He doesn’t use them prolifically, but he’s been known to whip out the occasional “sweetie” or “honey”...   or something goofy like “sugarbuns”, when he wants to get a laugh out of his partner.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

He’s...  I mean, it depends on which stage of his life you’re talking here. Pre-war Malarkey, who doesn’t really know what it’s like to lose someone? More likely to go with the flow, just laugh things off if someone’s encroaching on his partner. (Again, he trusts his partner very much, and that’s a huge component in their relationship.) Postwar Malarkey? Ooh man, absolutely protective. He’ll jump if it seems like anyone’s making his partner uncomfortable, and has no problem getting in their face about it. Depending on the situation, he’ll either politely but firmly suggest they back off... or tell them to, or else.

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Look...  he’s a social boy. He’s not shy. If someone’s willing, and they’re flirting with him, and they want to...  he’s also a very active young man who is honestly never not in the mood, so...  there have been a few. A good few. Maybe he’s lost count.

[noneatnonedotcom]

Magical Girl rwby au

yang idly wondered if enjoying this made her a bad person as her flame covered fist crushed the skull of a beowolf. she sidestepped the one behind it as it lunged forward swiping and snarling at the air where she was before. she brought her leg up with a devastating kick to its midsection as the Grimm went sailing through the air wincing at the mistake yang went to follow it only to be distracted by her sister Ruby: yang we’re all done here you ready to head back? yang looked over to her sister the silver-eyed girl was smiling as the read scythe she rested against her shoulder was dissipated into silver sparkles. the scene was almost cute if not for the Grimm viscera that was splattered all over her frilly dress and red hood Yang: yeah we’ll head home, you look like you could use a bath  ruby pouted cutely at the remark and yang smirked Ruby: it’s the price I pay for awesome, and crescent rose is definitely that! I mean did you see my baby cutting through those Grimm? she was all “swing” and they were all “bleah” and then they went “fwoosh” and it was like those ninja movies blake likes but it’s a lot less cool when you have to clean off the blood  yang smiled at the excitement in her baby sister's voice. it wasn’t always like this back, in the beginning, they had trouble using their powers it was more a chore than anything but then they’d met Weiss and blake and Pyrrha and the five of them working together really helped cut down on the amount of work they had to do any given night. tonight it was her and ruby. tomorrow would be Weiss and blake, then Pyrrha the strongest of them would take a swing at it solo. then a day off and back to her and ruby unless one of them wanted to switch off for someone else which they did on occasion. sometimes they all decided to go out together when there was nothing going on. which was most days. since Pyrrha was the only one with after school stuff like sports and Weiss had her job as a singer to work on it was typically just her and ruby. and blake but the cat could be so damn lazy and Ruby: swear jar! yang: but I didn’t say anything! Ruby: you were thinking it! yang reached down and started to give her sister a noogie  yang: little brat! Ruby: arg, yang no! ruby took off in a flurry of rose petals as she used her magic to run away yang smirked and took off after her a streak of fire burning through the sky completely forgetting about the Grimm she’d sent flying in the opposite direction ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- jaune idly wondered if avoiding this would make him a bad person over the last few days, a beowolf had been seen in the area. most thought it was a superstition but jaune knew the truth. and he hated that fact he checked his gear again, his family sword hung at his hip, on his back was a small pack holding an emergency medical kit, extra water and a little bit of food (he’d learned his lesson after that time he’d gotten trapped in the cave) his hoodie was more a source of comfort than disguise. after all most people didn’t focus on him when there were Grimm around. still, the hood made him feel more disguised so he’d keep it. his back up knife hung on the opposite hip from his sword.  frankly, he’d have liked a gun but guns didn’t hurt Grimm. only his family's ancestral blades. he wielded crocea mors, his father wielded  Claíomh Solais and they were alone against the dark.  he silently cursed the lack of a brother and thanked the gods that Adrian wasn’t required to fight. he drew his blade and stood. briefly shaking out the stiffness of his limbs as he followed the Grimm back into its den. he’d honestly have preferred a pack of beowolves. yes, they were dangerous in numbers but those numbers could be mitigated when they were alone they tended to grow... alpha beowolf: *lands behind jaune and roars, shaking the crumbling building around them* bigger jaune lunged to the side but just a second too late as the Grimm grabbed his leg with its clawed hand. throwing him into and through the ruined wall of the abandoned building. he rolled as he hit the ground dodging the claws of the Grimm before retaliating with a slash of his own to the beast which howled in rage  great now it was mad. he struggled to breathe as he moved around the debris-covered floor trying to get away from the steel rending claws by the barest margin. trying to preserve as much room as he could for further movement. barely flinching as the claws cut open his face just under his eye as they grazed him. dipping under a swipe jaune saw his opportunity and slashed open its neck. as the black blood spilled freely from the new wound it backhanded him launching him into the wall once more as he struggled to stay awake against the coming blackout. jaune: *through gritted teeth* get up jaune the Grimm having noticed he was still alive lunged at him jaune: fucking move dumb ass! he rolls to the side stumbling as he stood tripping and twisting his ankle as he grunted in pain. luckily for him, he was distracted from the pain by the pain of a set of claws ripping through his chest just barely shallow enough to survive. he rolled back as the Grimm lunged again he managed to get the sword in-between its teeth as the Grimm tried desperately to bite his face off. they struggled for what felt like an hour before he felt the Grimm weaken. loss of blood taking it’s tole as the massive beast was finally rolled off of him. he placed his sword against its throat before cutting it open. as the Grimm dispersed into the air jaune leaned back against a wall and slid down exhausted doing a quick check he had four deep cuts on his chest that he was going to have to stitch shut, a cut on his face that was definitely gonna scare jaune snorted at that thought jaune: oh no, my precious modeling career a couple of broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and a concussion he was gonna be out of commission for a while. jaune: *forcing himself to stand* that went far better than expected he limped off, heading back home where his sisters and mother could patch him up. great thing about having such a large family  there was always someone around to patch up your horrible painful wounds  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ruby  wondered if this was some sort of punishment for being a bad person she’d been transferred to beacon at the behest of ozpin, an old friend of her moms and someone who knew about the maidens and their powers. her silver eyes being the main reason but her recent breakthrough with her mechanical engineering class had given him an excuse to invite her to the prestigious school. her friends had promised to show her around but there was only one problem with that Ruby: where the heck was I supposed to meet them again?  she studied the map of the admittedly huge campus as if it would offer any more information  unknown voice: excuse me? do you need some help? ruby: *turning around grateful for the help* yeah I was looking for... the guy she saw when she turned around was tall. his shaggy blonde hair framed a scared and tired face that didn’t look any less scary for the smile on it as he leaned down. ruby backed up against the map on the wall  scary guy: for...? ruby: *squeaking* library the guy nodded  scary guy: alright, so you’ll wanna head for the music room the stares past that will take you to the third floor the other stairs are down after something ripped them up pretty bad so that’s the only way up there ruby remembered exactly what had ripped up those stares she’d been the one to kill it after all.  she might have made the stares worse with her baby but now wasn't the time to cast blame.  even if it was she blamed violent video games scary guy: now did you catch all that? ruby froze, she’d zoned out, why had she zoned out! oh god now he was frowning at her, she’d made him mad! who knows what he’d do to her now? he grabbed her hand and she felt her life flash before her eyes scary guy:*growling* come on she was too young to die! contrary to her previous thoughts, she wasn’t actually in danger. as they had walked she’d noticed something that took her back ruby: you have a cute bunny on your hoodie! scary guy:* embarrassed* it’s pumpkin Pete  ruby: *giggles* scary guy: *chuckles* sure go ahead and destroy my pride, ah well at least I made a pretty girl laugh *winks* from there the conversation went to things like comic books, then it went to weapons (scythes are impractical but really cool regardless, he though swords were better the philistine) guns (guns were awesome) older sisters (they both loved them but sometimes they were too much) and sweets (he was actually quite the baker since his mother had told him the fastest way to a girls heart was through her sweet tooth) by the time they made it to the library they were laughing at each others jokes and he was smiling and now she had to say he didn’t actually look that scary... maybe rugged oh no, he was hot! ruby:*blushing* uhsoanywaystheresmysisterishouldgobye! she ran into the library only to be caught by yang and pulled into a bone-crushing hug  yang: he didn’t do anything to you right? I swear to god if that asshole touched you Weiss: we’ll need to talk to him  blake: why was he even around you? Pyrrha: did jaune hurt you at all? ruby: *struggling to get free* who are you talking about? yang: *looking ruby over* that guy you were running away from ruby: *finally getting free* oh, uh... no, no he didn’t do anything, he actually helped me get here when I got lost Ruby:*internally* so his name’s jaune? huh, short, sweet, rolls off the tongue *nods* I love it Weiss: well I suppose even a monster like him can be kind blake: you should be careful ruby, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what he could have done to you ruby: *tilting her head* huh? Pyrrha: ruby he didn’t touch you did he? ruby: *remembers him grabbing her hand* uh yeah, it was a little scary at first since I didn’t know him *remembers the conversation as they walked* but then I kinda really enjoyed it *remembers what she thought of him before getting to the library, blushes red* I think I kinda maybe really like him now wby+p: *shocked silence* yang: he needs to die

[ckret2]

So I’ve got a Spotify playlist consisting of the compiled contents of 81 different Alastor-centric playlists, like I just copied the contents of every single playlist I could find with no cultivation, no filtering, and no censoring. The one limitation I put was no duplicates of the same song—although multiple versions of the same song off different albums was allowed.

And since then I’ve been listening to this all-packed-together playlist on shuffle. It’s brought up several comments/questions. Highlights include:

- To every single person that includes a romance song with lines like “baby you’re my angel” or the like: are you a Radiodust shipper actually referring to Angel, or are you a Charlastor shipper referring to Charlie’s “fallen angel” heritage?

- One of you included an entire creepypasta story about the devil talking a man into killing his ex-wife and her lover as part of a 500-step-long plan to conceive the Antichrist and I’m not quite sure why it was on an Alastor playlist but I appreciate the characterization of the devil in it. I guess a creepypasta is kind of a radioplay of sorts? Maybe more Alastor playlists should just have random radioplays mixed in.

- To the person who included half a Kidz Bop album on their Alastor playlist: I’m not judging, I just wanna know why. I want to understand. I really want to understand.

- I respect all you people that included song covers by Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox and I understand where you’re coming from, but like, if you’re not familiar with music genres from before 1990, I suggest you look up which genre a given PMJ cover is trying to emulate, because if you’re stuffing PMJ covers on a playlist specifically to make them “sound like” Alastor’s era or because you’re going for “songs Alastor would like because they sound like what he’s used to,” then a PMJ cover that makes a 1990s song sound like a 1970s song isn’t quite in the right neighborhood.

- There are different philosophies that go into making a character playlist. Some go “the genre has to fit the character’s era and/or personal tastes, whether or not the lyrics do.” Some go “the lyrics have to fit the character, genre be damned.” Some go “these songs were big/popular when I was into this character so that’s what I associated with them.” Some go “these songs are really out there for the canon character but fit my headcanons.” Some people may have totally different criteria I haven’t even thought of! Anyway the point is: when you mix over eighty playlists together, you get every single playlist-making philosophy mixed together, and it’s an exciting experience to listen to.

- And on that note: every single genre on the planet is on this playlist. We’ve got Britney Spears, we’ve got Vocaloid, we’ve got Thomas Sanders (we’ve got a LOT of Thomas Sanders), we’ve got My Chemical Romance, Two Steps from Hell, Barry Manilow, Oingo Boingo, Within Temptation, Madonna, Kesha, Hans Zimmer, ... we’ve got the poppiest pop, emo, metal, electronic, folk, rap, rock, movie soundtracks, TV soundtracks, classical, disco, country, KPop, Carrie Underwood, every single decade for the last 150 years... and I’m deliberately leaving out all the jazz, swing, electroswing, and musicals, because those are a given for Alastor. Obviously those ones dominate the playlist but it’s amazing how much variety there is outside them.

- I’m frankly amazed by how much of this playlist is Thomas Sanders and Bendy and the Ink Machine. Like. It’s a notable quantity.

- That said, actually the playlist doesn’t quite include every single genre. Like, for example: I can tell y’all want to lean into Alastor’s New Orleanian/Louisianan/Creole roots from how many songs I’ve seen that include words like voodoo, Creole, New Orleans, bayou, uhhhh The Princess & the Frog, etc... And yet aside from a few New Orleanian jazz artists so far I have crossed paths with very little Louisianan music compared to, say... Undertale songs. So here. Start with some Cajun, try some Mardi Gras songs, I’m not totally sure how much of this playlist is “actually from Louisiana” and how much is “other people making songs that they think are Louisianan” but try this one anyway, and once you’ve oriented yourself a bit dig in here. I wanna see ten Alastor playlists with one song that includes “Zydeco” in the title or album name, stat. Sure, we know Alastor’s all jazz and swing and musicals, but I sure don’t listen to only three genres, you probably don’t listen to only three genres, and Mr. Radio Guy Whose Public Title Includes The Word “Radio” Who Likes Bursting Spontaneously Into Musical Numbers probably listens to more genres than you and me combined, and those genres probably started with what was local & accessible & common around where he grew up.

- Then again I haven’t listened to this whole playlist yet, sometimes I put it on shuffle and sometimes I put it in alphabetical order to try to slowly work through it from top to bottom (I’ve made it mostly through the C’s) so maybe y’all hid the Cajun & Creole music down in the D’s. But lemme say this: while randomly shuffling through the playlist, I’ve randomly run into multiple Irish drinking songs & shanties, and randomly run into zero zydeco, so like from those of you who follow the “music that sounds like what the character listens to” philosophy of playlist-making, non-jazz Louisianan music could use a lil more representation. If there’s room for twenty-six Billie Eilish songs there’s room for one BeauSoleil song. (I’m partial to “L’ouragon,” but you do you)

- Somewhere in this massive mixed playlist there are three parody medleys of Disney songs rewritten to be like “here are grimdark edgy lyrics about all of the terrible real-world things happening to the cultures depicted in these Disney movies!” and like, okay, I can see why that merits inclusion in an Alastor playlist, his big moment in the pilot was “take an optimistic song worthy of a Disney princess and rewrite it with grimdark edgy lyrics,” but those three songs still annoy the hell out of me because the specific way they frame the concept of their songs is that Disney movies/songs are “full of lies” and these songs reveal the lies. And then it’s things like... “Aladdin got captured and interrogated by the CIA,” which is definitely a thing that happened to a character living in an ambiguous time period that predates the existence of the United States, much less the CIA, much less the CIA’s meddling in the middle east, by several centuries. Disney was definitely lying about the reality of Aladdin’s day-to-day existence by not depicting American imperialism that predates America. Or “the characters in The Princess & the Frog have to deal with the fallout of Hurricane Katrina,” like, yeah, Disney sure is pulling the wool over our eyes by dishonestly denying the devastating consequences the 2005 hurricane had on 1920s New Orleans. Listen the lyrics are clever and all the things they discuss are real salient social issues but it still drives me nuts that the songs are framed like they’re revealing “lies” being told when half of the movies are taking place in (fantasy versions of!) time periods or locations where the issues they’re discussing didn’t apply, if they’d just framed that one line differently— Okay, okay, I’m finished, I’m done, I’ve got it out of my system

- Every single love song makes me go “are you imagining this song with a ship (and if so which ship) or do you just think Alastor would be into this song?” The question goes double for songs from the 20s/30s, because the odds that they added it to their playlist just because they think Alastor would like the song increases.

- On the other hand, if whoever added “A Formidable Marinade” isn’t a Charlastor shipper I will eat my hat. Also nice work on the gory cannibalism sex song.

- Every once in a while I’ll run into a song that makes me go, now how the heck did you end up on an Alastor playlist? Does this song line up with someone’s very specific headcanons and/or fanfic plot? Do they think Alastor would like this song? Did they happen to like the song and like Alastor at the same time and so they associate them with each other? Examples: “I Got You (I Feel Good)”, “iRobot” (is it the emotionlessness of being post-death?? do they headcanon that he’s got radio hardware replacing his guts?? is it a post-breakup ship song??), “Greensleves”, “Barbra Streisand” (the song, not the singer), “Jolene,” “The Last Steampunk Waltz,” “Seven Nights in Eire,” “Cruel Angel’s Thesis,” and the person who included half a Kidz Bop album, please, I just wanna talk—

- Every time I hear a song that includes the words “hell,” “sinner,” “smile,” or “radio,” I go, “Haha. Nice.”

- An incomplete list of songs that amused me for how on point they are: “Hotel California” (how often do you have a fandom where “Hotel California” is actually very blatantly fitting without having to twist through an extended & convoluted metaphorical interpretation?), “The Hunting Song,” “The Axeman’s Jazz,” and “Time Again”

- I sort of hate whoever put “Circus” by Britney Spears in their playlist and made me realize that lyrically it’s a perfect Alastor song because it is.

- *scrolls past six versions of “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past five versions of “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past a song from Bambi* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past five versions of “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile”* Haha. Nice.

- *scrolls past eleven versions of “Sing Sing Sing”* Haha. Nice.

- What’s with those of y’all putting steampunk songs in Alastor playlists? Listen, listen: steampunk vibes are for Sir Pentious. Swing vibes are for Alastor. Don’t cross the streams. Take your steampunk songs and make Sir Pentious playlists with them. He could use more playlists.

- The playlist includes 39 songs that include “smile” somewhere in the title.