#I have a billion more things to say since I chose to shut up on this until now but this is long enoughhh I heart op and you all

[machinerage]

THANK YOU SO MUCH and YOU'RE SO VERY RIGHT!! Replying back on my blog with actual followers because people need to see it. New billford fans discovered the pairing through TBOB, told from an unreliable narrator, filtered through 2 characters who you not only need to understand inside the story but from an outside writer's perspective as well to notice the spontaneous and sometimes even nonsensical details in their backstories and writing as a whole, completely missing all subtext throughout the show and j3. Thus we have a giant horde of fans who don't understand the very core themes, let alone the many, many (not so on this specific topic) smaller horrors. Fans of the pairing who were present since we got the very first sight of them did create a lot of wonderful work and analyses, but not only was it drowned out back then because of antis, it still is today because of both misinterpretation and, shockingly still, antis who are okay with the abuse and every other horror when it's funny and amusing to them but are freaked out when they have to face it as it is, when it's no longer a punchline but a thorough inspection of the complex and the uncomfortable. You're so very right about it being incredible when you do see the whole mix of disturbing and serious themes of billford with their cartoony elements, you really can't have one without the other, the perfect balance between its humor and the more serious yet still entertaining writing of Gravity Falls makes sure of that. But when people who haven't read a single page on psychology or ethos in their lives try to tell you that you're evil for noticing, hey, these cartoon guys were really disney's hannigram, the sitcom couple spin on faust, it stops being irritating and starts being hilarious

welcome to the Murdersex zine, a zine celebrating all things sex and murder. but um. we don't want to romanticize it or anything so don't make your submissions too murdersexy. we will do extensive background checks on all applicants and if we decide a past work of yours has too much sexy murder we'll have to remove you, sorry. we have limits, you know, we want a tasteful gory spread you could put on your coffee table, and having the Wrong people in it would kill the vibe (and we condemn all killing! wholeheartedly!)

[slut-for-zendaya]

zendaya with r who is 5’1 (like me ) always arguing with each other like “get your tall ass down here so i can tell you something “ and zendaya be like “ sorry you just disappeared “ also the are actres and everyone love the dynamic between them

thank you and may lord bless you ❤️❤️❤️

SUMMARY; zendaya and you are a couple, the whole world knows that, but you too have one thing that keeps you bickering the whole time.... your hight diffrence, not in a bad way tho A/N im so exited to write this, its my first time getting a request, this is my first time writing i know its going to be bad, but i hope u like it ..........................

"hey give it back" you were practically jumping as if ur life depends on it she was holding your script

you were to busy memorizing the script so she took it out of no where

"na uh" Zendaya smirked "make me" you sat on the floor and crossed your arm then pouted..

"its not my fault your a giant!"

Zendaya puts the script on the desk then sits next to you

"ur the small one" she snorted out, she looked at u, she's pretty sure u tried to fake getting mad right now

"i hate u" you said trying to fake it but as soon as u said it u leaned in Zendaya's now open arms

"you love me" she said confidently it was hot

every thing she did was hot

"yeah" you mumbled

she grabbed your chin so u can look at her she leaned in gave you a peck on the lips

then she pulled away "let's get going we are going to be late"

..................................

Butterflies erupt your stomach as she drapes an arm around your lower back

"What movie do u want to watch baby?" she asked u looking at the movies in front of her

"Z u know we aren't going to watch the movie, and start making out in the first 5 min" you said smirking

"Then we'll choose the worst one so no one can be there"

You hit her by your elbow a yelp escaped her mouth "what did I say?"

"No its not you. Its.... There are paparazzi" you whispered

"Where?" Zendaya asked clueless

"Your the tall one and you can see them great so she is a giant and blind" you snorted

"But in bed I'm 'so good' these are your words not mine" she mocked your voice

"I do not sound like that!" I frowned

"Yes, you do" she held you tighter

"Shut up"

"Ur cute when ur mad" she said admiring you

You felt your face getting hot, pretty sure you were as red as Tinkerbell right now

"You have said that more than a billion times you know that right?" You breathed out

"Eh" she said, "and dont worry about the paps they know we are dating so no big deal, besides jacob and tom are joining us"

"oh yeah i forgot, we should wait for them then pick a movie, they'll be pissed if we chose one" you snorted

you can see tom and jacob starting to make an apearence by how the paps started to call thier names

"whats upppppp!!" you said to jacob doing ur little handshake

"good, you?" he asked

"perfect"

you saw tom and gave him a hug

'hey, quackson, been long time since we've seen eachother"

he acted offended "Y/N I DO NOT SAY IT LIKE THAT"'

"mhm sure lets pick a movieeeeeee" zendaya said as her arms drapped around ur waist again.

zendaya felt you shiver a little

"are you cold down there?" she asked smirking

you elbowed her "its cold okay! and once again ur the giant one!" you huffed

"yall are bickering like teanage couples" tom said "but its cut tho" jacob chuckled

you and zendaya rolled ur eyes

"here take this" she took of her jacket and draped it around your shoulder

"noo you'll get cold" you said concerned

"dont worry the weather up here is not cold"

[bungoustraypups]

@daught3rsofcain i made a separate post for this, btw, to respect creantzy and (try to) keep any more unnecessary fighting off of their posts, however i feel this needs to be addressed given how it caused issues over on twitter and i wanna make my stance clear as well as make it clear that this kind of comment is unacceptable

tl;dr for anyone who doesn't wanna/can't/doesn't have time to read my whole rant/already agrees with me and doesn't need to be convinced on why you should shut the fuck up if you see fanart/fanfic/other fan shit you dislike or that mildly bothers you but is otherwise harming no one online: curate your online spaces, block liberally and without question, do whatever you need to do to be comfortable, but never demand that other people bend to your will just because you personally think something is disrespectful to you

i'm gonna keep it brief: don't say this shit on someone's art.

you might think it's disrespectful and "disgusting", but that doesn't actually make it so. i implore you to do a little googling into the history of romantic jesus depictions, because if you do, you'll quickly find that people have been doing this very thing for literal centuries.

yes, they had pushback even back then, as most artists who make any kind of art esp religious art often do no matter what they're depicting, but obviously the fact that people continuously do it and that most christians either don't give a fuck or at the very least ignore it and move on.

if you were truly so incensed upon seeing silly fanart of bsd fyodor dostoevsky and a very historically inaccurate depiction of jesus christ based off of leonardo da vinci's gay lover (yes, that is where this very popular depiction of jesus comes from, while there's some debate over who exactly was the muse as leo had a few gay lovers, most people agree the depictions of white or fair-skinned jesus today that are similar to the ones da vinci made are based off of someone he was in love with whether they were in a relationship officially yet or not) you simply could have blocked OP or the post or simply ignored it, and yet you chose instead to do this, which is why i bothered responding

people threatened creantzy on twitter and sent death threats to them over this, for much the same reason as you claim to have left this thoughtless, hurtful comment. even if creantzy doesn't care and can brush it off, which is a fair and valid response, the way people online feel entitled to force everyone they interact with to only produce material they personally agree with is childish, immature, cruel, entitled, and quite frankly, shitty behavior.

it would be one thing if this artwork depicted, for example, a marginalized religious figure, but considering Christianity is not just a major global religion, but is the current dominant global religion with approximately 2.4 billion followers worldwide, and most countries have no discriminatory laws against the practice of christianity or against christians themselves, when the same cannot be said for literally every other religion on the planet right now to varying degrees (if you live in the USA, for example, we may not explicitly forbid the practice of other religions, but hate crimes are rising, especially antisemitic and islamophobic hate crimes, and the perpetrators of those crimes are largely either atheists who were formerly christian, or current christians; and almost all of our major holidays are centered around christian religious holidays, even if the marketing no longer reflects this, that doesn't make it less true)...

basically you're causing a fuss over a non-issue. my grandma is very christian and thinks this art is pretty and even though she doesn't get it, has no real issue with it considering christians themselves have been doing this for... almost since christianity began, arguably. your opinions don't dictate what people should or shouldn't post online.

block, move on, and live your life. stop harassing artists.

[lilikags]

reo thing

There’s a part of this fandom who believes that Reo had everything he wanted, growing up. Well, he’s rich. He could buy everything he wanted. Well then, does that make sense? To a lot of people, yes- after all, what else could he want that he could not get? Wasn’t he the guy who always said “Get what you want”? 

But here’s the thing: what did he want? It’s easy to think that he just wanted to be popular- to get good grades, to win competitions, to have everyone’s support. That’s what he did, that’s what he was to the people in Hakuho. But were those actions really because he wanted it, or because he was told to do it? Now, he’s pretty much every parent's dream child- with that many achievements, any parent would be proud. He always looked like he was on that path, the one for success and always having every resource he could possibly touch. But did he want that, or did his parents want that? You tell me. 

What might be really hard to consider is that Reo thinks everybody hates him- so he can’t trust anyone. Now, think about it: when you have billions of dollars at your disposal, do any of your peers think that you’re “one of them” or “relatable”? No, your money would solve all of their problems and you wouldn’t have their problems, so you’re not “one of them”. They want something from you- your money. It’s not rocket science to figure out that the more money you have, the more stuff people want from you and the more likely it is that people will suck up to you to get into that tap of money for their own interests while still hating you out of your ability to solve their problems. (In other words, they hate because they’re jealous)

He’s an outcast. He’s something else. He’s a genius. That’s what everyone believes- after all, how could he be at the top every single time? How could he have the top grades, the good personality, the looks on top of that, the background even? Now, with the grades thing, there’s a secret that can result in this: teaching your kid early. You take away the time people say “Oh, kids should play” and turn it into “I’m teaching my kid how to read so that he will be ahead of the class”. Kids are given time to grow emotionally and socially when they play, but it is highly likely that Reo’s parents had him be taught math, language, business, etc. instead. If you start with basic concepts from a young age and keep at it every day at lunch and dinner for years, you’ll get pretty far. Combine that with putting classes in his schedule, and he’s basically already studying hours and hours at a young age. He already had a leg up, and with a good schedule, and tutors to help him understand better, it is realistic that he learned everything in a steady pace with his natural intelligence to help him forward. He earned confidence, he wasn’t really held back by self-doubt in terms of his ability to deliver results. That’s why he has a hard time accepting loss. It’s gifted kid syndrome- and he didn’t know how to not be more than “perfect”. 

About his emotional growth- he has basically had very little emotional growth since just about forever. I imagine Reo to be a relatively well-behaved kid ever since he was young, and if there was any first message he came across first, it was to do what his parents said. It was obedience- and in order to do that, he had to shut his own emotions down, and put on a mask. That mask was carried with him everywhere. People are individualists but also value fitting in- they want to do what they want, but they don’t want to be labeled as an outcast. There are people who prioritize one or the other, and Reo chose conformity. Conform to what? He definitely didn’t conform to the other people at the school; he was so different that everyone was jealous. That didn’t matter to him; he conformed to expectations. People talk- putting his parents in the spotlight of this discussion. He has a natural intelligence- that allows him to go far. He was well behaved compared to kids his grade. What parent wouldn’t brag about how well they brought up a child like that? Then, based on what people hear, they have expectations too. “Because this kid’s a genius, he can do anything!” “He’s so well behaved for his age, I’m sure he’ll become a fine gentleman when he’s older!” But he’s so lost in the mask that he forgot what his real face looked like. In fact, he might’ve not even taken any real good look at it, because he’s always been conforming to the expectations. That’s why, when he discovers Nagi and soccer, he finally discovers a part of himself for the first time and he loves it more than anything. That’s why he’s so desperate to cling to that, why he’s so clingy to Nagi, when Nagi “left him” for Isagi in the second selection. 

In fact, Reo had so much of everything (material) that he didn’t want any of it. Seems a little paradoxical- if you have everything, shouldn’t that just cover everything you want? Theoretically, it should, but think about it like this: what are you going to do with all of that extra stuff? It’s just laying around, something should be done with it. But he didn’t know what to do with it. There’s a point where having too many things becomes a burden rather than a useful tool- and he reached that point. Just because someone is rich, or born rich, doesn’t mean that they are wasteful. They may spend more than others, but it was early on that Reo learned that money was a tool, and he knew he’d better use it well.

obligatory @ss-slep tag

[cadyrocks]

The idea that this is simply a matter of energy extraction in the 20th century is somewhat undermined by just how comically evil large corporations have been. To this day, they are spending massive amounts of money to lie about climate change, lie about their culpability, and lie about the feasibility of any shift away from fossil fuels. As a result, we continue to drag our feet on addressing the problem.

This is not some formless natural outcome. Various people and organizations made (and continue to make!) choices that helped lead us here. Oil and gas companies chose to hide and lie about internal research on the effects of burning fossil fuels. Oil and automobile companies lobbied hard for car-dependent sprawl. Mobil directly advertised against electric cars and various oil companies pushed back against the rollout of EV charging stations in the 90s. Automobile makers intentionally bought up and destroyed public transit infrastructure. None of this was a natural result of energy consumption habits. They were decisions. Decisions made to further the short-term greed of a handful of shareholders at the cost of a world in which Bangladesh isn't underwater.

There may be an alternative universe where, shocked by the research they had commissioned, Exxon and Shell stepped forward and said, "this is a big problem and we need to drastically change things to avoid a future where the gulf of Mexico is a jacuzzi and Florida is underwater", then led the charge on renewable and alternative energy sources. It would be a better universe than the one we have today, where people who got disgustingly rich off oil decided to use their wealth to ensure nothing changed.

The actions, both past and present, of companies like Exxon, are sociopathic, selling out the future for a quick buck. The people in charge have spent decades making these sociopathic, selfish, deeply harmful decisions and facing zero repercussions. Maybe some repercussions would make the next guy in line ask, "is what I'm doing likely to make people want to kill me?" before spending another billion on climate disinformation. Currently, I see no reason to believe any of the bastards who are still running these corporations are even the slightest bit concerned that their actions might have consequences. That's a problem.

You want underlying material reality? We've known since the 80s at the very latest that burning fossil fuels in bulk will have drastic consequences. That's a material reality we have proceeded to ignore for *checks notes* my entire fucking life, in large part because of the actions of the oil industry. We've known for an entire fucking generation that we need to drastically change things, and we still aren't doing it. We don't need oil! Certainly not in the amounts we've been using it. There has been an active, malicious campaign to keep people using as much oil as possible and to shut out alternatives, because it makes certain people very rich. If you're looking for villains in this story, there they are. And I think they should spend a lot more time wondering if their latest scheme to get even richer at the cost of countless lives will lead to someone saying "no" in a very loud, double-barrelled voice. They've had it coming for a very long time.

Tl;Dr: what @togglesbloggle said in the comments.

[timextoxhajima]

The Boyz as things and feelings (just cause)

this is a small thing @haechanhues​ needed help with so i decided to make it an actual post uwu [this is gonna be pretty long cause i might write little scenarios]

[THE BOYZ AS THINGS AND FEELINGS]

SANGYEON - MIRRORS AND PILLOWS

mirrors make a place look bigger than it really is - i feel like sangyeon has that ability to make you feel like you’re more important on your worst days

the things he’ll do just to make sure you’re alright, even when he knows you’re not

he also has the ability to reflect what you need: sad? he’ll come and hug you and let you cry or talk about your shitty day. happy? he’ll joke about the way you snort while laughing then he’d probably do something dumb to keep the energy up there

mirrors also feel very private and at-home, and that exactly how i feel he curates an environment

pillows are self-explanatory ig, smth to cry into, smth to fall asleep with while hugging, has the best homely scents ever, very comfortable

i imagine going home after a long day and finding your partner also tired, but he’s cooking or like in the couch watching tv and he just invites you into his arms uwu

“tell me about everything! whatever that makes you happy or sad and i’ll try my best to be who you need at that point of time!”

JACOB - FLOWERS AND MUSIC

ok like jacob with a guitar is just a stellar sight to behold, he looks like he was born to hold one, and his vocals are super underrated imo, most of tbz’s discography doesnt really suit his voice - i really wish he had a chance to have more lines in more ballads or maybe even a solo thing

he would drag you out to go on walks after he knows you’ve buried yourself in your work the whole day, and he’d be the kind to stop at a pretty flower and contemplate plucking it but he wouldn’t cause he’s a fairy and wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a pretty flower

would probably play a piece in the background while you’re stressed w work and hum a tune so the singing wouldn’t distract you

would stop when he notices you stopped working and your sad ass is probably crying lmao

he’s a very soft and gentle man imo

he’s the innocent daisy amidst other bright colored, flamboyant flowers but he still stands out

“i’ll grow you a rose bush in the yard so i don’t have to be sad about plucking flowers next time.”

YOUNGHOON - WINTER COATS AND COFFEE AND PASTRIES

he definitely radiates tsundere vibes on first sight, but when you get to know him, he’s obviously the opposite: a crybaby

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up his model-like appearances when he’s outside - in fact, he’d be the one to influence you into caring more about how you look (of course not materialistically, but more into actually caring about making yourself feel good with your fashion and appearance)

i chose winter coats as a symbol of coverage - he doesn’t show much of himself unless he’s close to you (like when you wear winter coats to keep warm, he’s a burrito because he doesn’t bother too much about sharing his feelings), but when he does, it feels like he has the ability to keep you warm and comfortable, even on the coldest days, even if his inner savage comes out

it’ll be like he scooped you into his coat and has you warm in one of this inner breast pockets

i see him as the kind to get regular coffee and like, a tart or something, at a cafe. it adds on to the warmth, when he remembers what you like. the details. maybe you like your coffee with cinnamon or less sugar or something, but then he tops it up with a muffin and he knows you like it heated up so he specifically asks for them to do so

ok but he’s defo the kind of guy that catches people’s attention at public spaces so every now and then when he’s laughing or smiling, some girl would gawk at him and he would be embarrassed about it, but lucky for you, you’re already wearing matching coats so they know the man’s taken uwu

“if only they knew how long it took to convince you to wear that coat.”

HYUNJAE - CONCERTS AND CONVENIENCE STORE DATES

classy but calm. dream-like but realistic. 

i say concerts as in the instrumental, ballad kinds. he loves it and he knows you probably need the sleep where you have that kind of background white noise/music that provides you the best quality of sleep there is. but when you’re not dosing off, he’s admiring how much time you’re willing to invest into being at something he loves

of course, in turn, he doesn’t complain much when you’re hungry and you meet him down the street at the nearest convenience store for some instant noodles and potato chips with a coke and he lets you ramble about your day 

he would probably buy you an ice cream just so you’d feel better, then regret it when you get a stomachache later cause it was like 2am in the morning

you probably have like 5 of his hoodies at home that you refuse to wash cause his scent is tainted all over it and the only time he gets to take them home is when he stays over or visits and he sneaks one into his bag when you’re in the kitchen making tea or a bowl of noodles

then you’ll get it back without even knowing it was gone

the kind that would probably surprise you after a day of work with a casual date idea to the movies, and i mean showing up at your place, impromptu, after he knows you’re home with two tickets 

“act like my girlfriend for once and go on a date with me, would you? your work isn’t going to be there with you when you die at 90.”

JUYEON - STARGAZING AND VR GAMES

as dumb and sometimes bimbotic as he seems he is, he’s gotten most of the visible constellations memorised and he would not hesitate from telling you all about his childhood with his family when they would travel and try to spot every single constellation they can remember

which brings me to the point where he remembers what you like, but... backhandedly. he doesn’t remember what you like but he remembers what you hate instead, so you don’t ever have to worry about getting that licorice flavoured jelly bean

he would offer a midnight walk to help you relieve your stress, cause he knows you just like seeing the nightsky amidst the peace and quiet while he rambles on for his own satisfaction. not everything has to be so emotionally attached and shared. you can share blissful moments without being the reason for each other’s and that’s totally fine.

juyeon is kind of a scaredy cat in the sense that he isn’t really into horror movies or games but he’s always had that dream to become a pilot and so for his birthday, you brought him to a vr game arcade where he played some plane simulator and ever since, you’ve been taking turns to surprise each other with a new vr arcade spot or adding on to the vr game console set you have at home

“maybe i should digitalise you so i can see you in the vr game”

KEVIN - KARAOKE SESSIONS AND NEON LIGHTS

the best-friend kind of partner you would come across once in a lifetime

a billion film shots of you after he drags you to the karaoke and he beats you at super intense songs like the bohemian rhapsody just cause he can hit those high notes and solely because he was screaming on the floor when he did it

almost left his film camera behind 

absolutely LOVES those walks along streets where there are a million neon lights

would come across that one sus neon light signs that indicate a sex toy store and he would give you that sly smile and probably joke for you to go in 

kevin has a moon neon light in his room and you have a star or something (whatever you want)

corrects your grammar and pronunciation, only for you two to bicker about it even more when you use google translation and there are different pronunciations depending on where/what accent you’re using

he really is your light in the dark, even if he’s known to be introverted. once he’s comfortable enough with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world

has one of those portable speaker microphones at home and he drones on and on and on with some billie eilish song until you hurl a pillow at him

“so you’re the tough girl, like it really rough girl, justcan’tgetenoughofkevingirl, chest always so puffed girl”

CHANHEE - DUETS AND STRAWBERRY PICKING

(i could not find a more candid, softer aesthetic pic for chanhee rip)

his entire wardrobe fits you - the only problem is that he’ll never let you wear it in fear that you’d stain or tear something

shared playlists because that’s how similar your taste in music is, and so sometimes when you have your earpiece in and you’re humming the melody of that song, chanhee picks it up immediately despite not hearing that song, and ends up harmonising with you

got kicked out of the library once or twice because it was exam period and the two of you won’t shut up

ironically doesn’t sing that much if you’re not around

chanhee is a true blue introvert - which is a miracle that you’ve managed to tear through that barrier of his and find out that he giggles at every stupid thing you do: he’s having a bad day? trip over the pavement. he’ll laugh. it works

dragging him out to go strawberry picking was so difficult - but of course chanhee isn’t safe from how beautiful and enticing the fresh fruits were.

didn’t touch anything strawberry flavoured OR any strawberries for the next month or so

his straightforwardness comes with the breakdown of his barrier - but that’s what brings you comfort. he will never lie, he will only be sarcastic and even then, you’d know it’s true

i used duets as a symbol of harmony and being in-sync, though never really exactly the same, and that’s how it is with chanhee. your thoughts are very similar even though he’s much more introverted than you, but that’s what binds you 

“i’m gonna tell the librarian i don’t know you if we get kicked out again.”

CHANGMIN - CITY TOURS AND MATCHING OUTFITS

city tours - the kind that you already know inside out and yet you STILL travel the area as if you were a tourist 

that’s exactly how it is with changmin: you know him inside out, after being friends for so long, but it never gets old

you’re used to him biting your hand out of nowhere and yet it startles you all the time. that stupid chucky doll in his living room? old, but it never fails to scare you

he doesn’t ever talk about it that much, but he loves it when you co-ordinate outfits

no, it doesn’t mean you wear couple tees, but it’s aesthetically pleasing to changmin that if he wears cool tones, you would too

he’d be reserved about his thoughts and feelings sometimes but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think or feel them

there’s a strange sense of familiarity with changmin, because you kind of know what to expect but then you’re never disappointed, you know?

“i got you this white pigeon cause it looks like the one i already got... you can give it back to me if you don’t like it though-” /he takes it before you can accept it/

HAKNYEON - STAND UP COMEDY SHOWS AND RUNNING ALONG THE BEACH

there’s something about ju that makes it very casual and easy-going

he hates horror genred themes so fuck that, he would queue online just for the latest ali wong comedy show, even if it’s an online show, and he would laugh until he cried

sometimes he’s a drama queen but that makes it alot easier for you to know what he’s thinking or feeling - it makes communication alot easier

that means a lack of arguments

he’s also very empathetic but straightforward, exactly like how comedy shows are - because they are relatable, they are funny because they bring out the irony and sarcasm and all the dumb things in life that people are sometimes afraid of talking about and hak just says whatever he wants to say, even if he knows it might be hurtful or upsetting

he prioritises truth and honesty over anything else

it makes you a better person, honestly

beach walks - very calming, very liberating. he lets you yell and scream and kick sand back into the water because you can, and he does it with you

tries to teach you how to skip rocks but you suck and you can’t so he just pulls you away from the pile of rocks you amassed

“flick your wrist like that, not like you’re meowing!”

SUNWOO - SOCCER FRIENDLIES AND STUDIO SESSIONS

he will NOT go easy on you in a friendly match: you might be one of the fastest players of the female team but he’s ruthless in his ball-stealing, so even if you were fast enough to keep the ball out of his reach, he’d still be able to snatch it right out between your feet

very, very competitive and does not like to lose

you would always play the ‘ladies first’ card but then he’d throw the ‘feminism’ card back at you 

sometimes you act more like siblings than anything else 

the only time when he isn’t fuming with competition is if you’re injured because he accidentally tackled you - he’ll gracefully give himself a yellow card before absolutely trashing you in the next match

has one foot into the production game recently - likes to play with the beat board and mixing tunes, and since you’ve had your hand in doing music remixes for a deejay job before, you’re there to identify which songs have the same bass line or beat counts for easier mixing

would make you a playlist of remixes but wouldn’t admit that he spent a whole day in the studio without you just so it would be a surprise

a soft boy stuck in the wraps of an egoistic man

“a day? please. i illegally downloaded half these remixes off the internet cause i’d think you’re too internet-dumb to find them.”

ERIC - BAKING AND SKATEBOARDING

full of impromptu, casual ideas to hang out 

baking is a fucking mess - why did he suggest it when he doesn’t even have the right ingredients?

wanted to replace eggs with water - like ok thats supposedly healthier, but why????????????

he likes cleaning so that was the only fucking bonus in baking - had to call his mom for help halfway through because the cookies looked more like goop than playdough

gave up in the end and he repaid his debt by helping clean your kitchen

tried to teach you how to skateboard, but he ended up falling off his own in the process and now he’s got a grazed knee 

the kind of person you’d have so much chaotic fun with, he’s that friend your mom told you to NOT hang out with that much if not you’d get run down by a car 

has the most fucking random pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, like where did he even get that pink coat from?

“no you have to do this and like lift up your leg and then kinda rest your weight on it before flicking your ankle and like- whOA- OH OW OHNO OHOHOH OW”

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic 

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen. 

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !!  secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

-

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

-

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

-

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.  

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

-

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

-

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

[volexis]

my favorite ghost; sakusa x gn!reader

summary: sakusa loved you, and he was sure you loved him too. over time he’s come to know love is fickle, always ready to dissipate at the drop of a hat or the proposition of one all-important question.

warnings: fluff to angst, implied break-up, mentions of past relationships, proposals

wc: 1.6k

note: general taglist is open, send an ask or fill out my form to be added!

a/n: here's some angst since it's my birthday today! i've had this drafted for months now, i tried something new here so it took me a while to actually gather the courage to post it but yeah this was the fic idea from a poll i made like a billion years ago!

Sakusa didn’t expect to enjoy his mornings with you, nor did he expect them to become his favorite part of the day. No matter how the night started, by the time sunlight streamed through the windows, he’d always find you encased in his arms. On the days he woke up before you, which tended to be a more common occurrence, he’d take the time to really look at you. He’d take in the unusual sort of gentleness that consumed your generally placid features. Sometimes, he’d catch a thinly veiled smile on your lips and wonder what you were dreaming about to have given you that grin. Most of the time, he’d leave the bed before you could open your eyes. Before he could cave in and take the chance to ghost his lips over yours. Today wasn’t one of those days. You stared back at Sakusa as he all but jumped away from you in his fright, half-embarrassed to have been caught looking at you so unabashedly.

Before you could open your mouth and ask the undoubtedly teasing question that rested on your lips, Sakusa asked a question of his own.

“Are you busy this Friday?”

You blinked owlishly at your boyfriend and quirked an eyebrow. “Well, good morning to you too,” you whispered into the air between the two of you, voice slightly hoarse and threaded with remnants of sleep.

“Good morning, my love,” he relented after making a point to exaggeratedly roll his eyes, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

At his words, your eyes lost the playful glint they carried. Whatever caused the shift strung a weight in his chest and made his stomach plummet.

“I don’t think I am. What’re you planning?”

You paired your words with a desperately bright grin. Sakusa said nothing and sent you a cheeky smile of his own, hoping it was enough to mask the sudden sting of fear in his heart. He rolled out of your shared bed, chuckling lightly as your indignant protests followed him out of the room. He never revealed his plans, no matter how much you tried to trick him in the days that followed. He always chose to send you a ridiculously charming grin in response and promising that you’d know soon.

Sakusa was unbearably obvious, in his eyes at least. He’d never say it outright; the words weighed far too heavy in his mouth to ever escape. The way his eyes trailed your figure with a sickeningly saccharine fondness spoke volumes in his stead. Fortunately for him, you were oblivious to the way your boyfriend radiated absolute adoration in your presence. Though not everyone else was.

“So, Omi-kun, when’s the wedding? Seeing you all so lovey-dovey is making me sick." Atsumu mimed a nauseous expression, grinning at his teammate’s callous, unimpressed glare.

“First of all, my romantic engagements are none of your business, and second," he paused to riffle through his gym bag, lifting his prize for the blond to see. “You wouldn’t have been invited to the wedding, anyways.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened as he blinked slowly, momentarily stunned. A smug grin split his face as he wolf-whistled.

“Congrats, Omi Omi, I didn’t think you had it in ya.” He clapped his back, much to the annoyance of the former, before leaving the changing room.

The blond’s words left a sour, indignant taste in Sakusa’s mouth. He was not the type to lack courage given his silent yet almost teasing demeanor, but the tiny box in his pocket haunted him. It sent anxiety spiking through his nerves every time you reached too close, breached his most climacteric secret. Yes, Sakusa had plenty of bravery and will, but he lacked one thing. Patience.

“Where are you taking me?” You lightly tug at the cloth that covered your eyes, laughing as he immediately swats your hands from the blindfold in response.

“You’ll see when we get there,” came an obnoxiously indifferent reply from somewhere up ahead. You could feel the smirk on Sakusa's lips without having to look. His dodgy words did nothing to quell the swirling butterflies swarming your stomach. Nor how they fluttered in time with every exhilarated beat of your heart. His hands felt far too warm in yours as he guided you through an undisclosed area. You vaguely hear what could’ve been a car in the distance, the familiar noise prompting more questions than answers.

“We’re here,” he whispered into your ear, lips dangerously close. Your skin prickled deliciously with embarrassment, but you chose to ignore the feeling to take off the dark fabric tied over your eyes.

Before you lay a quaint picnic blanket nestled between broad trees. Thin lights were strung on its branches, illuminating the modestly charming set-up beneath them. Assorted snacks were carefully placed on the blanket with enough space to comfortably sit and eat.

“You mentioned a while ago that you’ve always wanted to go on a picnic. So, I thought now’s a good time as any.”

His words were quiet and surprisingly bashful. You couldn’t help but smile as you pull him down to sit with you, quickly reaching for whichever treat caught your eye.

Sakusa sat before you, methodically fiddling with the worn lining of his jacket. The ring burns a hole in his pocket, weighing down on his heart and sending anxiety creeping up his throat. He couldn’t do anything but smile as you rambled, seemingly unbothered by his lack of participation.

Was now a good time? Would there ever be a good time? He worked his hand into his pocket and fiddled with the ring. Flipping its box open and shut with every thought that streamlined through his mind. The box tumbled out of his jacket before he could make a choice, landing on a platter between the two of you. Your words quieted at the sight of it as you stared at it, then at him.

“This… this isn’t exactly how I planned it, how I planned to propose to you,” Sakusa spoke up before you could. He picked up the box from where it lay and gathered himself into a semblance of a kneel, the best he could do while on the filmy, slippery blanket.

“I wanted to take you to that restaurant you like first, buy you flowers, walk through the streets as the sky darkens. Take you to your favorite park, the one where we met, and then I’d propose. I wanted nothing less than perfection because you mean the world to me. Before I met you, I never really understood what it meant to love so fiercely you’d give the world, paint the sky, wring the stars, just to see them smile. Now, I know what it’s like to love someone with everything that I am. You’re everything I could ever want, everything I’ve longed for, and infinitely more. I love you more than words could ever possibly dream of encompassing. Anything I say would pale in comparison. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me if you let me.”

His voice faltered, the tear-stained smile stretched on his lips mirroring your own. When did he start crying? When had you started crying? It didn’t matter, not really. You were and will always be the most beautiful person Sakusa has ever known, regardless of how you look.

“So please, tell me you’ll say yes.”

You couldn’t trust your voice, not with the way tears freely coursed down your cheeks and into your mouth every time you tried to speak. You nodded, laughing softly at the relieved grin on his face once you slipped the ring onto your finger. Sakusa’s eyes softened as he reached to cup your cheeks and pull you in to press a kiss to your nose, cheekbone, wherever he landed first. He chuckled into your lips as you fisted his shirt and pulled him even closer. His eyes fluttered shut at the taste of sparkly citrus and the feeling of your tongue swiping against his.

Honeyed lips on his melted into the ardent warmth of sunlight, breathing kisses on his skin. Sakusa never expected he would have to get used to mornings without you, longing for your touch. Coming to terms with the gut-wrenching reminder that it was nothing but a dream. It was the gleaming proposal he longed for. The one he wished he could’ve given you instead of hushed, awkward confession whispered into the night while he held a ring between shaking fingers. It’s no wonder you said no. The look in your eyes was sickeningly sorrowful, almost apologetic. It reminded him he would never be enough for you.

Your face now seemed turbid at best, glossed over and all but forgotten in the balmy morning haze. Sakusa wished he could forget you, what you were, what the two of you had together. The ring still sits heavy on his nightstand. Next to his clock, next to where a framed picture of your wedding should have been.

Sakusa could never hate you for it. If his love were enough, you’d still be here with him. The fact was glaringly obvious, at least in his eyes. Your presence never fades, not with the weaning sunlight or the occasional breeze that rushes along. It’s phantasmic in the way it lingers sweetly yet heaves a bitter taste onto his tongue all the same. Your memory, everything about you, would always be his favorite ghost.

© all content belongs to volexis 2020-2021, do not repost or reproduce onto any socmed platform. do no plagiarize and or copy the aforementioned content

[0risha]

affiliation.

PAIRING : gojo x fem!reader

SUMMARY : due to the actions of your now ex-lover, getou suguru, your future of becoming a sorcerer is no more and now it's time to say your goodbyes.

TAGS : angst, comfort, unrequited pining, a curse word or two, contains slight manga spoilers so proceed with caution. reader is described as a female?? reader has curly hair

NOTES : this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, hope you enjoy!

Terminated. Terminated? Your first reaction is to cackle, to laugh at the faces that stare right back at you with leering eyes. But the only thing you can choke out is an, "you can’t be serious?” 

Your voice raises several octaves higher than normal and your face is etched with the expression of pure, refined disbelief. Choosing to scan the faces that sit at the circular table shrouded in a low cloud of darkness —which sets the mood in an eerie cinematic way— you find sneered lips and mock smiles.

"Correct, your third year at Jujutsu tech is ending in a week, you can decide for yourself to stay or leave during that remaining time, your choice. Any objections?"

“You’re terminating my contract to become a sorcerer for some incident I wasn’t even involved in?” You internally wince at your dismissive tone because you know that the so-called was not just some incident. It had torn both Getou and Gojo into unsalvageable pieces, thrown towards the deep sea. Getou’s own so bottomless that he had gone on a murdering spree.

One that the higher-ups were blaming you for because as his significant other you should have been the one to stop him. Which —at the start— you thought was so incredibly far fetched but as you pondered past actions you couldn't help but think otherwise.

A lasso of anger —your own— is cracked against the confining walls of the conference room. You think they can feel it, no, you know they can feel the spiked level your cursed energy has entered and Gojo can feel it too because he's bursting through the conference room door, grabbing your arm and hauling ass before you can retaliate.

By the time you're met with a blue sky and the sun's gaze, you have to blink multiple times. One, to become accustomed to the befallen light, and two, to snap out of your stupor.

In your crestfallen state, Gojo takes his time to scan your face. He basks in the way the sliver of the sun causes your skin to glow and the way your slightly pointed nose scrunches up in anger.

In reverence, he skims through his shared memories with you. The start of it all, when you waltzed through Jujutsu Tech with survivor’s guilt so intense that he and the other first-years could feel it. The result of your parents dying in a freak accident, which so happened to be the day you had started to see curses. 

When you snap out of it, you’re met with the sight of electric blue eyes. Ones that shine with an intense shade of worry. And it’s a jubilee because the Gojo Satoru is worried. You’d never seen him in this state, ever. In your state of surprise, your eyes flicker from Gojo’s to a pair of colored onyx.

He remembers your closed-off demeanor that he and Shoko decided to slowly shave off and the way you gravitated towards Getou more than he saw fit and oh gosh, why did it have to be him? He knows that now as a third-year you have no fundamental reason to be in Japan but he can't help but to think selfishly —stay with me.

Because now, after making the selfish decision of not killing his best friend, he's not too sure where the lines of coincidences might meet.

Megumi. I have to leave Megumi.

“Megumi! I didn’t even know you were here!” You smile and pat his tufts of dark hair that fell in all sorts of different directions. 

“You’ve always been so quiet,” you whisper, crouching down to his height as his colored eyes rapidly flutter shut. Although, not being a fan of Gojo or anyone for that matter. Megumi showed signs of slight attachment towards you. Ranging from returned hugs, and shared giggles here and there. The young boy never had a way with words and physical touch, but from time to time he seemed to enjoy your presence. 

The mere thought of having to leave him causes your chest to ache as you stand up from your kneeling position to, again, staring at the clouded sky in the distance. But there was no other resolution, you had to leave Japan. 

In your half-decade of being situated in the bustling streets of Tokyo, you’d grown accustomed to every aspect of the city. You’d made so many bonds. One’s that in a week would be snipped by the scissors of a very cruel fate. 

There was Shoko, a cigarette-addicted teenager that acted more like a nagging mother than a friend. 

Gojo, who had been injected with a childlike aura since birth and acted more like a fussy toddler than the strongest sorcerer there is. 

And Getou, the man your heart mistakenly bled for. He was always such a serious person, even behind closed doors but you never doubted that he loved you. He always chose to express his partiality through gasoline-filled words, ones that you digested and had caused your chest to burst with licking flames of devotion. 

Getou, the same man that had caused you to land in this mess. Albeit, the expulsion of what was supposed to be your future position, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. Only feeling crashing tides of guilt. 

“Not your fault, it’s not your fault.” You're pulled from your thoughts to feel calloused hands attached to your cheeks that are surprisingly wet with your tears. 

Through your blurred vision, you see Gojo’s bright eyes staring into your very own. Megumi’s looking at you with riddled curiosity, you’re sure it’s because he’s never seen you actually cry before but you can’t find it in you to not put your pride aside. And when that layer of chain mail is finally cracked in half, Gojo’s there to shield you. In a split second, he’s bringing you into a gravity-defying hug while you sob into his chest, all while the jut of his chin lays on top of your mass of curls. A bubble of his piney, masculine scent envelopes you all while you taste the salty tears that fall on your lips as you gargle out apologies. 

“I’m sorry, th- that- I couldn’t do anything,” you hiccup. 

“It’s not your fault,” he reassures you and he says it with so much intensity that at least a billion of your nerves transmit the message of truth to your brain.

“No one could’ve known.. for fucks sake, I didn’t even know.” Gojo reminisces, not for the fact that Getou had become a wanted sorcerer but because of that, you had to face the brute consequences.

But to you, His hushed words are a slap to the face because...

Gojo must be hurting too.

Getou was his best friend, his partner through life and death situations but here you were babbling like a baby. 

As soon as your body tenses up and your joints spring to pull your head off his chest, Gojo pulls you even closer, almost as if he can read your thoughts. 

So, the only thing you can hope for is that while both of you embrace, Gojo’s getting enough comfort to tend to his aching wounds. 

"They terminated your contract, eh? You want me to kill them for ya?" Your response is a hearty chuckle, one that stops as soon as it starts because he's serious. And you can tell. Your body itches in the worst possible way as his killing intent leaks out from his crackling hearth. As detected, Megumi grumbles and shifts his feet as he pulls on your skirt.

"Don't be stupid," you whisper as you pull away from his chest and face Megumi to grab his small hand. "Let's go home and see your sister, okay?"

back to m.list

[beauty-and-passion]

Heya!

So I remember reading your post about Eurovision a while ago, and since I'm now hooked on a certain collection of songs, I was thinking...

Would you think 'Zitti E Buoni' by Måneskin could be a Remus song, and 'Voilà' by Barbara Pravi a Roman song? Or do you have some ideas on any other Eurovision songs that would fit the Sides?

Just wondering whether you'd like to share some thoughts on this, but no pressure of course! As always, I absolutely love your theories and posts, it always brightens up my day to read :D

This will be a very self indulgent post.

First of all: “no pressure”?! I am HYPED to share my thoughts on this! And this is why it took me so long to reply to this ask: I’ve spent the whole time thinking about which song could fit which Side, going through the last editions, reading the lyrics, searching among my favourites...

So yes, this post will be a bit long. But hey, there is also good music and maybe, by listening to it, you will find something you haven’t heard before! :D

(Of course, in order to make this post understandable, I will translate all lyrics, but the songs aren’t all in English. In any case, every song has a link, so you can hear it on Youtube.)

And yes, I know there are billions of other Eurovision songs, but for the sake of “not making this post endless” (as if it won’t be already), I will stop at Eurovision 2014. If you all have other songs to propose for a Side, please feel free to add them and explain why! :D

And now...

Which Eurovision songs would fit the Sides

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2021

Måneskin - Zitti e buoni

(Here the Eurovision performance because it’s just this good)

This song is PERFECT for Remus and I was a fool for not realizing it sooner. It's all about showing how different you are, embracing your uniqueness despite what others may think. Everything about this song screams “REMUS” so thank you, my dear, for opening my eyes and making me realize it.

They don't know what I'm talking about You are dirty, bruh, of mud Cig's yellow in between the fingers I'm walking with a cig Pardon me, but I really do believe That I can make this jump And even if the street is uphill I'm training for this now

The first line is already 200% Remus: they (aka the other Sides) don’t know what Remus is talking about. Remus is impossible to understand. Remus is weird, strange, dangerous - according to moral standards.

However, despite the other people’s thoughts, Remus still shows a high self-esteem - just like in his playlist. The others may not have faith in him, there could be obstacles on his way, but he still believes he will achieve his goals.

And good evening, ladies and gentlemen Bring out the actors You better hold on to your balls You better keep quiet and be good Here people are weird, like drug dealers Too many nights I've spent locked outside Now I'm kicking these doorways Staring up like climbers So sorry mum if I'm always out, but

“You better hold on to your balls” is a translation of the original italian line “Vi conviene toccarvi i coglioni”. This sentence is a more vulgar form of the English expression “knocking on wood”, something you preventively do to un-jinx stuff.

However, “knocking on wood” isn’t as strong as the italian expression, so I chose this translation that is more literal, but also more vulgar. It kept the original vibe more, it fits Remus more and it gives a stronger meaning to the whole thing. The singer isn’t just saying “beware of what you’re doing”, but he’s saying “get ready, shit if about to hit the fan”. It’s more powerful - and well, Remus would love this. It’s his time now, so the audience (the other Sides/Thomas) should "keep quiet and be good”.

I also really like the “Here people are weird, like drug dealers”, because it can refer to the dark sides in general. This is Remus’ show, so the Core Sides and Thomas should shut up. They are now in the Dark Sides’ territory, full of weird, sketchy people, morally gray villains. All things he loves, enjoys and that he definitely considers as compliments. 

“Too many nights I've spent locked outside / Now I'm kicking these doorways” is another great line, because “being locked outside” is the perfect metaphor for Remus’ situation. He IS locked outside, he has been kept far away from Thomas, stifled by him, unable to fully express himself. And so he releases his frustration by kicking the doors that are shutting him down. That’s just so Remus I. LOVE. IT.

I am out of my mind, but I'm not like the others And you are out of your mind, but you're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others

This chorus is PERFECT! First of all: “I am out of my mind” is basically just like this line from DWIT:

[Patton]: Imaginative sure is a- a kind word for him. [Duke]: I agree! How about... DEMENTED?

But also: Remus doesn’t give a damn. He’s not like the others and he’s SO DAMN PROUD of it. Just like he is in canon and in his playlist.

He goes even further, by saying that “you” are also out of your mind. And who this “you” might be, if not the big man himself?

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas.

Just like in DWIT, Remus welcomes Thomas’ weirdness with open arms. If he and Thomas are both insane and different, why hiding it and not embracing this difference? They are unique.

I've written pages and pages I've seen salt, then tears These men in cars Don't climb the rapids I've written on a tombstone "In my house there's no God" But if you find time's meaning You'll climb back up from your oblivion And there's no wind stopping The natural power From the right point of view You feel the intoxication of the wind With wax wings on your back I'll go look for that high If you wanna stop me try again Try cutting my head off Because

Woah, this part has a lot. There is:

Remus' creativity as a flow ("I've written pages and pages")

Remus seeing how different he is compared to others ("These men in cars / Don't climb the rapids" while he was ready to “make this jump” despite the obstacles on his way)

Religion because of course - and especially Remus rejecting it ("I've written on a tombstone / "In my house there's no God".")

And, most importantly, there is a nice reference to Icarus' myth. According to myth, Icarus escaped from the Labyrinth of the Minotaur, by flying on wax wings. But he flew too close to the sun, his wings melted and he fell to his death.

This has multiple meanings. First of all, it shows how stubborn Remus is: he could use simpler, more stable ways to reach his goals. But he's Remus, he's creative and he's different, he would rather use wax wings (aka more complex, unordinary means) to reach his goal. Also, it's a proof of his resolution: just like Icarus, his wax wings could melt and he could fail. And yet, he's so set in his decision, he's ready to do anything to succeed.

This last point is particularly evident in the following lines: "If you wanna stop me try again / Try cutting my head off". It's impossible to stop him, just like it was impossible to send him away or stop him from talking in canon.

Everything in this song is just HIM.

Unfortunately people talk They talk, they don't know what they talk about Bring me where I float Cause I lack air here

Once again, the people are the Core Sides: they talk about how he's evil and dangerous and useless. But they don't know what they're talking about. They're (metaphorically) suffocating him with their prejudices, that's why he asks "bring me where I float": he wants to express himself freely, to escape these biases.

Also: water. And with the whole octopus as his animal, it’s just even more fitting.

Moral of the story: this song is perfect for him, Remus should know Italian just to sing it - and he would love the glam rock style of Maneskin as well.

_____________________________

Barbara Pravi - Voilà

I don’t know how you did it, dear, but these two songs are PERFECT. Zitti e buoni is perfectly Remus, Voilà is perfectly Roman. I feel blessed.

Listen to me, me, the half singer Talk about me, to your loved ones, to your friends Tell them about this little girl with black eyes and crazy dreams What I want is to write stories that you will hear about That's all

Roman, is that you? Because this is you. This is ALL you.

Roman is a "half singer": he cannot sing like he want, he cannot express himself in full. He has rules, laws, morals that forces him to quiet down and bent his creativity.

And, just like a tragic hero, Roman asks that his story will not be forgotten, that others will know about him, his unfortunate life, his "crazy dreams" and especially his passion: writing stories "that you will hear about".

This line in particular reminds me of this part from Recipe for Me:

And still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill Tales I hoped to tell when I was younger Ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will I'll find my way with my will

The concept is the same in Voilà. Roman is a "controlled" Creativity, surrounded by rules and morals that shut him, but he wants to be heard, he wants to tell stories.

And that’s just it. This is what creativity is all about: talking, puring out its ideas, as loud and freely as possible.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if I'm scared as I'm naked, yes Here I am in the noise and in silence

I love how this song is a way for Roman to express himself, to show himself despite everything. He's like this, he's a "half Creativity", he's scared, he's not perfect. But here he is, "in the noise and in silence". Because your creativity is always here with you, no matter where you are or what you are doing: it will never leave you and it will never stop asking to be heard.

Look at me, or at least what's left of it Look at me, before I hate myself What can I say that another hasn't already said? I don't have much, but I place here what I do have Voilà

Aaaah, yes, I like to wake up with the strong smell of Roman's angst in the morning.

Roman seeing himself as something broken? Perfect. We want more of the angsty boi. Even the fans of King Creativity may read this line as Roman seeing himself as “half of a whole”!

And, again I love how despite feeling broken and hating it, he’s still ready to give everything he has. This is the true essence of the concept of creativity.

Also, why not adding a little more angst?

I want to be loved, because I don't know myself how to like the shape of me

This is perfect, because it reconnects to the first episode, when Roman said his goal would be to love himself first. He never reached this goal after almost 30 episodes - and this line might offer an answer on why: because Roman doesn’t know how. He hates himself so much, he doesn’t know how to love himself.

And that’s probably why he needs another person to love: because it’s easier to love someone else, rather than himself.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if it's the end as I'm naked Here I am in the noise and in rage too Finally, look at me and my eyes and my hands All I have is here, it's my face, it's my scream Here I am, here I am, here I am

This last chorus is awesome: the quintessential of Roman’s desperation, of showing himself, of screaming hoping to be heard by anyone. Unlike Remus who is unstoppable and doesn't care about others, Roman cares. He needs a public, he needs to be heard, otherwise he would lose himself.

And I seriously love how these two songs both have the same idea (embrace yourself and your uniqueness), but talk aboout this theme in such different ways - and yet so fitting for the twins... they are just GREAT.

(On a side note: this song is so dramatically French Roman would love it and sing it with the same passion Barbara used and I would love to see that.)

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2019

Bilal Hassani - Roi

Come on... Roi. Roi. Considering that "roi" means "king" in French, who could possibly be the Side I would associate this song with? Maybe the Side who already has a King in his playlist?

Nope, this song is for Remus.

Why Remus? The reason is very simple and you can just notice by reading the first verses:

I am me And I know I will always be I am free Sure I am inventing my life Don't ask me who I am

I am The same since I was very little And in spite of looks, opinions I cry, I go out and I laugh

You put me in a box Want me to be like you I don't follow the codes People are disturbed a lot At the end of the day You canno change me, boo! So, let me fly

This song overflows with confidence, the lines talk about someone who is free to be whoever he wants, who has always been the same since he was a child, who is rejected by others and doesn't give a damn, who doesn't "follow the codes" and refuses to be changed by them.

This isn't Roman, but this is the quintessential of Remus. This song is everything about him, from his confidence to his desire to be free.

And the chorus is even clearer:

I'm not rich but i'm shining bright I can't see my kingdom now When I dream, I am a king And I know o-o-ow Even now o-o-ow You try to take me down You cannot break me nah nah

That's him, that's Remus.

On a side note, if Remus also has his "King song", that would strengthen the connection with Roman, since they both would have a song about "being/feeling like a king".

And this song is Roi, king in French. Since I think Remus would definitely know French, this makes Roi an even more fitting choice, doesn’t it?

Who are we ? When we hide, when we fight for free Only god can judge you and me We did not choose what we are

Not only there is a nice religious reference, but these lines are a also a reference to the LGBT community: they hide, they fight, they didn't choose to be like that (no matter what idiots might think) and only God can judge them, not other, very flawled (and, honestly, very pathetic too) humans.

So, if we consider it, there is also a hidden "fuck society" and a "I am gay and proud to be" and those are both very Remus things.

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2018

Saara Aalto - Monster

I would associate this song with Thomas. And, specifically, to Thomas at the end of the series. Why?

Here's why:

So tonight I'm making friends with all the creatures That are hiding there under my bed

I ain't gonna hold on to these monsters anymore Now I'm gonna let in all the light Tear down the walls At my worst, I found my army strong All the demons are gone You can try and scare me now But I ain't scared no more I ain't scared no more

At the end of the series, Thomas would have befriended all the Sides, especially the "monsters hiding under his bed", the dark bois.

The "final Thomas" will tear down every wall between him and his Sides and will stop hiding/rejecting them. This will make him stronger, because the Sides will be his helpers, parts of him, his friends. He won't be scared anymore by Remus, suspicious towards Janus, afraid of Virgil or terrified by Orange.

"All the demons are gone": the dark sides won't be villains anymore, but friends. And they would help him be stronger.

It's my life I'm ready to lead it I'm gonna roll the dice You better believe it

This part is great as well, because it proves another interesting detail: that Thomas is growing up. He's taking life into his own hands, he's leading it. No more "Oh no, I don't know what to choose between callback and wedding!". He's more confident, he's stronger, he's more mature.

_____________________________

Hovig - Gravity

Honestly, I think this song can be something all Sides might sing to Thomas. It's basically a testament of how much they care about him:

Let me be your heart and your company I'll let you be the one who can lean on me I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

But the imagery just screams "ROMAN" so much, I can't help but think that yes, this is a great Roman song and it's all from Roman to Thomas.

I mean...

I can be your hero I can be your fantasy Oh, I can be the cure Yeah, let me be Your remedy

He IS Thomas' hero, so how can I ignore this? And he's also the embodiment of Thomas' fantasies, he's the wings that make Thomas fly.

Let me be your wings When you're flying high I'm gonna raise you up 'til you touch the sky I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

It's just pure love for Thomas and it begs me to being a Roman song, so... here it is. A Roman song dedicated to Thomas.

_____________________________

Eleni Foureira - Fuego

Listen, not only Roman would rock this song, but also dance like a maniac while singing it just like Eleni and no, you can't change my mind.

Just look at how this woman sings and dnaces without never losing a beat until the end. And please consider that on the Eurovision stage there is no autotune: this was her voice and he delivered a great performance without cracks.

So yes, I want Roman singing this.

But the lines are great for him as well! I mean...

Take a dive Into my eyes Yeah the eyes of lioness Feel the power They ain’t lying.

and

Coz I’m way up and I ain’t comin’ down, keep taking me higher Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah Coz I’m burning up and I ain’t coolin’ down, yeah I got the the fire Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah

Fuego

Someone fiery and passionate, powerful eyes, pride... yep, this is definitely something Roman would sing. Especially because of the fire. Roman is a fiery guy, so fire is very him.

______________________ 

Yianna Terzi - Oniro Mou

I actually already talked about this song in an old post and I still haven't changed my mind: this song is all about Janus telling Thomas how much he cares about him.

If you look into the depth of me You revive my dream And if you look into my heart I will take you into my arms   How would you like me to say this I would die for you I would give my life for you End and beginning, you are everything

Not only the "take you into my arms" reminds me of Change (" I’ll be able to be honest, capable / Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall"), but the last three lines are so incredibly loving and honest I can't think of anyone else but Janus while reading them. Thomas is his end and beginning, Janus would literally die for Thomas and give his life for him.

So, well, it's just very fitting. And I love how dramatic this song is. It doesn't have the jazzy vibe Janus loves, but the drama is all here.

______________

Francesco Gabbani - Occidentali’s Karma

Do you remember how hard it was to analyze Algorhythm from Logan's playlist? Every line has a meaning and explaining every single one of them took me an eternity.

Well, this song is basically like Algorhythm, but with more philosophy and billions to references. You see the performance on the stage and ahahah, there's a funny dancing gorilla, what a cute song. Then you read the lyrics and BOOM.

I will not analyze this song here, because every line would require at least two paragraphs to explain it. And this post is already long enough as it is, but please, search the meaning of this song: there are references to Shakespeare, Heraclitus, buddhism, Andy Warhol, Desmond Morris and his book "The Naked Ape", Marx, Nietzsche and so on. Basically every line is a reference, a play on words or both at the same time.

What about the main theme? The main theme is the human and especially the contemporary human. In fact, "Occidentali" (Westerners) does not refer to the geographical place, aka Europeans/Americans, but to the western cultural model.

So the title “Occidentali’s Karma” (Westerners Karma) is an insight on contemporary society, on our values and on how, despite how many things changed, we are not so different from our ancestors after all.

This song might seem a perfect choice for Janus. There's a critique of society, there are philosophers and plays on words.

But I’m not too convinced, because even if Janus likes all those things, the number of references is just SO HUGE only a real nerd can find, recognize and appreciate them all.

So yes, this is a Logan song. A song he would probably listen and analyze, enjoying the whole process of knowing more things, finding out all the hidden meanings, the plays on words (we all know you like puns, ya big nerd) and the critical insight. After all, Algorhythm WAS a critique of society, so Logan should appreciate it.

_______________

EUROVISION 2014

Twin Twin - Moustache

Not only the band is called Twin Twin but, as if this wasn't screaming "Creativitwins" enough, the title of the song is "Moustache".

Come on, you know who is the Side perfect for this song.

Psyche! It's both Roman and Remus.

Something is missing, but what? I want this, I want that When I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming in dollars, every day I'm wearing a different suit.

This is very Roman: Roman wants everything (let's not forget Primadonna from his playlist), Roman’s dreams are big. And Roman is Creativity, so he "wears a different suit" every day - aka he directs his creative flow in different stories/songs.

I want this, I want that there's never enough for me it's like this, it's like that there's always something I don't have

This part strongly reminds me of Primadonna. Roman wants everything, every day. He's never satisfied.

And then, Remus busts in and...

I wanted a moustache, a moustache

So my headcanon is that this starts as a Roman's song, all about wanting everything because "there's always something I don't have", until Remus pops out during the chorus and says all he wants is his gorgeous moustache.

*chef’s kiss* Perfection.

But I know what you want, dear audience. You want some angst, don't you?

Fine, so what if the "I want a moustache" line is Roman's subtle way to say that he wants the same freedom his brother has? After all, Roman has "everything one could ever dream of", "I have friends too / even some who like me". All he needs is more creative freedom and  the moustache is a subtle way to say that.

_______________

Aarzemnieki - Cake to Bake

This is the ultimate song for all Patton's fans, because it combines Patton's love for baking to Patton being an absolute disaster at it.

Also, it's an incredibly cute song.

I melted the ice of the polar caps Found the raiders of the lost ark Solved a case for the genius from Baker Street Helped to clean the Central Park I created the plan for the Chinese wall Went to desert, made it rain Swam through a shark tank bloodily Found Atlantis, by the way But today

The first verse is already awesome: Patton did a lot of great stuff, even impossible stuff ("solved a case for the genius from Baker Street" is a very nice reference to the Losing My Motivation episode).

But today, he has to face the most difficult task of them all:

I’ve got a cake to bake, and got no clue at all I’ve got a cake to bake, and haven’t done that before Don’t be proud, mate, please, don’t bother Go, come on and ask your mother How to bake, how to bake, bake that cake

Not only this makes me smile every time, but I can perfectly imagine Patton in a kitchen, with all the ingredients in front of him, everything ready and set... and he’s just absolutely lost. Should he use a spoon to stir the flour? And how can he open the vanilla beans? He doesn’t even know how to turn the stove on.

And so, he decides it’s time to ask someone else to help him. Bonus points if the mother is Janus. Also because he is a mom AND a witch, so

Also, this line:

Mix some dough, add some love, let it bake, wait for it

It's SO Patton, because the main ingredient of his recipes IS love! And cumin. And sometimes spit, depending on what he's making: pasta for Roman or some toasts for his angsty teen son.

_____________________________

Carl Espen - Silent Storm

At first, I thought this was a Logan song: someone who feels empty and alone, who has a storm inside but it's a silent storm, because Logan would never express his feelings in any way.

But there are these lines:

And there’s a silent storm inside me Looking for a home I hope that someone’s gonna find me And say that I belong I’ll wait forever and a lifetime To find I’m not alone There’s a silent storm inside me And someday I’ll be calm Someday I’ll be calm

And maybe it's just me, but this reminds me so much of Virgil. He has a storm inside, his own symbol is a storm. He's searching for a home, after leaving the dark sides. And he hopes someone will say he belongs - Thomas will say he belongs, that Virgil is part of him and of the famILY.

And he's willing to wait all the time, just to get that tiny bit of recognition and acceptance. And, who knows, maybe when he'll get it, the storm inside him will calm down and he will finally be at peace.

____________________

Tinkara Kovač - Round and Round

I don't know if I'm insane (or just extremely self indulgent), but this song is basically Janus during the wedding/callback saga.

Uncertain between worlds Circle after circle, we're trapped in time When you're already familiar with every storm You're playful, and yet you're alone

The first verse sets the time and situation. Thomas is living an uncertain life (just like every actor), trapped in the same cycle, with nothing new coming: same job, same opportunities, no big chances, nothing stable. He's "familiar with every storm", aka Virgil has been accepted. Thomas is happy, but he's alone. No one is actually on his side, not even the Sides themselves. He's not taking care of himself enough, he's too ready to drop everything for his friends, he's spreading himself too thin.

And now I'm gonna show you how to breathe I'm gonna show you how to live I'm gonna hold your heart in hand I'm gonna make you understand

This can be a declaration from Janus: he's tired of working in the shadows, he wants to step up and help Thomas in person. And these lines make me think of him, because of how "firm" (and kinda villain-y) they sound.

He wants to show Thomas how to live, aka what are the best decisions to make). He's going to "hold your heart in hand", aka to have Thomas wrapped around his fingers, to take control and steer him with a strong, confident grip, away from the decisions he considers bad, into making him a lot stronger than before.

And, finally, he wants to make him understand. So if the lines before sounded more like a villain’s plan, this last line adds something more. Janus wants to explain to Thomas why he's doing this, why his decisions are better, why Thomas should trust him.

If we think about it, this is everything Janus tried to do since CLBG: he wrapped Thomas (and the other Sides) around his fingers and made them play the courtroom scenario he built, he tried to steer Thomas away from the selfless decision of going to the wedding. And he tried to make him understand why, with the pinata metaphor.

You don't know you don't know Is it love is it hate What are we changing (What are we doing) You don't know you don't but Can you feel it inside Feel the roses Feel the pride (Can you believe it)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. Does he really know what love is? Or hate? Or what he's actually doing, by listening to his Morality? What is Janus doing?

[Deceit]: What am I doing here right now, Thomas? Am I the snake come to trick you into sinning, or have you had your mind made up since the moment you received the news about the callback? (SvS)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. But deep down, he knows what he wants to do. He should "feel the roses / feel the pride", both things associated with Roman. He is the one Thomas should listen to. And Janus is hinting it.

Is a moment just a circle Just a song you play on repeat? If we can't change how we're living Isn't life just a lie that we feed

Janus is expressing his frustration here: is Thomas' life doomed to always be the same, a cycle, a "song you play on repeat"? Can't he really change his life because of his selflessness? Will he really miss all the opportunities life offers him, in order to always be a good person?

What's the point of living, then? This wouldn't be life, but "a lie that we feed": instead of living his own life, Thomas would submit it to what others want/need, in order to always be present for them.

This is basically a huge warning from Janus: don't fall into this cycle, break free, I can make you free, listen to me and I will make you understand what is wrong about it.

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

5. Thank Some Gods

You end up in Hyogo for a real hot minute over your winter break, thanks to your cousins Akira and Akari who decided to drag you along when they were forced to visit with their mom and older brother. Being a year older then them and already a seasoned solo traveller, the parents all thought you'd be a great chaperone. Woohoo, yay you.

Truth be told, you love spending time with them and you're really happy to be able to see your aunt and other cousin, their brother Kazuya, that you'd missed over the summer, as well. Although you did have to apologize to Tobio and his family because when you'd promised you would stay with them next, you should have specified you meant next time you were in Miyagi. Not Japan in general. You think they were just taking the piss though.

Oh right, your vulgar new phrases are courtesy of Akira, thank her very much. Spend a few minutes in the twins' company and you end up talking like them, or whatever their west coast academy friends are currently teaching them, at least. Akari has a valley girl phase going and you think Akira is gearing up for a Tarantino-inspired life. Can't see how your family is let that going to happen, but it's not your job to tell him that.

"Y/nnn, did you try this dango!" Akira runs right into you, appearing from the crowd of people on the festive street of the shopping district you're in, and locks her free arm around yours while waving a stick with round balls on it in other other hand.

"No, but I waited 10 minutes standing still in the cold and crowd so you can bet that I will. Half of that is already mine."

"Hmph," She scoffs, "No one told you to stand still and wait around, silly."

You give her an exasperated look, "You literally said, 'stay there a minute, I'm grabbing us some sweets!' and bounced off."

"Okay, okay, chill your roll, girl."

"Not sure that's a saying, girl."

"Maybe not at the snooty east side preps."

"Yo." Akira appears on your other side. "Half that's mine."

"A third. Or none at all." Akari sticks her tongue out at her twin.

He looks over at you and you nod, twisting quickly so you can grab and hold her occupied arm still while he plucks the dango from her hand.

"Hey! Looks like it's none at all!"

"No. Looks like it's half mine, half Y/n's." He bites off one of the chewy balls (okay, we all know how that sounds.. slow your roll, girl) before holding the stick in front of your face so you can grab one too. Oh wow. It is good. Why did you wait so long to try it? So many years wasted without enjoying this sweet texture.

You can see your third cousin approaching, holding onto a tray of steaming drinks, as you chew over your thoughts on the delicious dessert (see what you did there?).

"I got your coffee", he holds the tray between us so I can grab one of the cups with my free hand, but like.. Kazuya, which one is it?

"Kazuuu, they're bullying me!" Akari pouts for sympathy only for Akira to fire back almost before she reaches the last word.

"She bullied me first!"

Instead of responding to either, he rolls his eyes at their bickering but they're only having fun. You've never met siblings that have each other's backs more than these two. You think Kazuya misses it too, having decided to study in Japan and live with his mom who consequently chose to work here, while the other two live with their dad - but really at a boarding school - back on the American west coast.

"Whatever, are you grabbing your drinks or what?"

Akari only smiles at her older brother's deadpan expression, "Which one is my hot chocolate, niichan?"

"Please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

But it's Akira who answers with a snicker, "Because you don't even go here, brat. It's cringy coming from you."

"Shut up, ugly clone."

"That's literally impossible unless you're calling yourself ugly too."

Okay, you're just going to go for the cup closest to you on your left. You pick it up and sip slowly... success. The sweet, warm flavour of your white chocolate mocha slides down your throat.

Kazu is giving you an arch look now, he knows how much you live for coffee but he's still going to say something about it, right? "You know it's already dark out, I don't know how you can drink this stuff so late. Don't you want to get some sleep tonight?"

"Bold of you to assume I need sleep." You smirk at him over the rim of your cup while Akari makes an attempt at snatching the remaining dango back from her brother around you. Please don't make me spill.

"Nah, I just assume you're a robot and this is your regular maintenance or something."

You consider his words before shrugging, nothing too mean that you can call him out on, you guess. "Down the hatch then."

"Sure thing, but I'm not staying up late bingeing your crappy shows with you when you're wired."

"But you'll binge a non-crappy show?"

"Maybe."

Another smile for your favourite cousin of the minute. He did get you coffee, you know. Akari's managed to grab the third sweet off the stick with her mouth like some rabid animal, but it makes sense because the hand not still holding onto you is holding back Akari's arm. They're going to smac-

And they hit the tray that Kazu was only just holding. He somehow manages to grab one of the drinks you assume is his out of it's spot while avoiding the wreckage spill of the other two cups. He didn't even try to hold on to it, which is partly why you're laughing as both twins start simultaneously apologizing and complaining about their spilled drinks.

Kazuya's deadpan expression is actually pretty communicative for the the moment, "I'm not going back for another, this is on you guys."

"Kazu, do you like being mean to us?" They actually ask this at the same time but Kazu's not even phased.

"Yes, I want you to suffer." He's dry as ever.

You chuckle but they're so sweet, most of the time, so you'll make it up for them, "I passed a stall selling hot chocolate, since we don't need to replace my specialty coffee, I can go there to get you some."

"Me too?" Akira asks hopefully.

"Yes, you too, puppy."

He rolls his eyes, trying to adjust his expression back into an uncaring one. It's more natural on his brother currently, but you can definitely see him grow into a more serious demeanour someday.

"I'll come with you while these two stay put." Kazu gives his younger siblings a stern look.

"No need," You wave him off, grabbing the stick with the last piece of dango and handing it to him, "Enjoy this as repayment from us all for making you go all the way back into the mall for our drinks. In the meantime, I'll be right back."

"Hold on, you're going to the one next to the onigiri stand, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, straight there and back in fifteen minutes or I'll come find you. And if I have to worry, I won't be happy."

"Okay niisan." You roll your eyes with your sarcastic tone. Older brothers. No wonder he and your brother Raiden get along so well, they're under some misassumption that their younger siblings just can't help getting into trouble, as if you all only live to annoy them. And he was doing so well as your favourite cousin for the time being.

You stroll away from the benches you were waiting at by the end of the street where the outdoor stalls meet the main street shopping mall and melt back into the crowd. This festival really is something, so brightly lit with pretty twinkling lights strung up everywhere and curled around any available post like glowing, warm yellow vines. You absolutely love the vibe but you know you're on a time crunch.

You notice the onigiri stand just ahead of the drink stall and debate for a quick second before stopping in the surprisingly short line up. A piece each of sweet dessert does not a stomach fill. Unfortunately, just as you take a sip of your coffee, someone bumps into you from behind, causing it to spill over your lips and dribble down your chin but you adjust enough in time, holding the cup out and away from you, so that you're not covered in any more than that and the little bit on your hand.

You hate wet clothing with a passion, especially when it's cold outside and it clings to you with that awful chilly, sticky feel. Not so bad when it's on your coat, but on principle, that's just as unpleasant if you run the cuff of your sleeve over it or it get on the collar and then you have the tiniest bit of discomfort right by sensitive skin and that makes it all the more glaring.

You realize the person who bumped into you also reached out to steady you at the same time and is now speaking, "Shit, I'm so sorry."

It's a little quiet but you make out his apology through his thick dialect. Hm, you think that's where the odd changes in Kazu and his mom's speech are coming from, a regional osmosis of accents?

"No worries, it's pretty crowded." You only half turn while you search your pockets for a tissue or napkin, spotting a flash of grey in your peripherals. Then an arm covered in that grey reaches out to hold a napkin in your field of view and you finally look up to see who it belongs too.

And now you're just staring. Hi there, I'd like hear your voice more. Preferably while you stare at his mouth move on his beautiful face. You can't believe he just had his hand on your waist, even if it was just for a split second and over layers of clothes, and you didn't get to appreciate it.

"It's not dirty." He shakes the napkin, you're assuming because he thankfully thought you were thinking that over instead of ogling him.

You chuckle, thinking how you definitely need to send thanks to some divine power on the new year for all the interactions with some serious eye candy these past six months, but out loud you say, "I really need to thank some gods out there, huh?"

What?

He gives you a confused look but you catch yourself and, before he can respond and question your sanity, quickly follow up with, "Or just you. For this. Thank you for the napkin."

"S'alright. Wasn't a big favour, really, just makin' up for my fault bumpin' into ya." You're not sorry he did, though? You can't tell what he's thinking, this guy is a closed book, folks. It's kind of jarring, since you consider yourself exceptional at reading people and acclimating to them.

You finally actually accept the napkin and wipe at your mouth and chin first, then your hand, responding, "At least you didn't make me drop the coffee or we would have had a real problem."

You think he realizes you're teasing because the corner of his mouth actually inches up the tiniest bit. You're not imagining, you swear it on your mocha!

"Coffee this late?"

"It's 11am somewhere."

"Ya wake up at 11am?" What an interesting thought process he has.

"Are you not on winter break? Or do you just assume your typical hours in every conversation no matter what day of the year it is?"

"Huh." You think he sounds thoughtful? Or was it just the word and you're associating it with how you use it..

"That's not an answer, but I'll take that to mean you go the typical route." You smile again because like you said, he's unreadable and you really don't want him to think you're being bitchy. You're really grateful for the napkin. And that face. So... yeah.

You're moving up, thankfully, because you thought you were blessed but this is just turning into what feels like an awkward encounter.

"I like sleepin' in, but sometimes I get too hungry so I'm up when my stomach is."

You look back at him in surprise, obviously because he bothered to continue a seemingly closed conversation, but that quickly turns into amusement and commiseration, "Oh I know! It's mostly coffee for me because not a lot of people bother to make breakfast in my house, but if I smell something delicious cooking, I forget I'm not a morning person."

He does smile fully then and it's beautiful. "Me too, but I'm usually the one doing the cookin'."

"Oh wow, that's dedication. I can respect but never reach that ideal." You hold your hand to your heart in a silly salute but also because he's still smiling and you're trying to tell your unreliable organ to be still. Not too still though, you're enjoying the moment and want to keep living it.

"Eh, I'm used to it."

"Well then, for once, let someone else take care of your food. I'll get your order for you."

"Seriously? It was just a napkin and my fault too.."

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it! Consider it a gift in essence of the festival!"

He doesn't say anything for a moment before, "I was going to try the different flavours. That's a lot."

"No way, that's awesome! I'll do that too, I don't even know what they have available, I just stopped here on a whim on my way there." You indicate the stand next to the one you're almost to the front of with a wave of your hand.

"Ahh.. if ya like, I can suggest some?"

You happily smile at him as you accept, "That would be great, thank you so much."

The two of you step up to the counter together and you listen while he orders. While you both wait for them to place each of your requests, he explains some of the fillings and why they work best depending on personal taste and even situation. You tell him about having just tried dango, sad about having realized you missed out so long, and he actually smiles widely at your exaggerated pained expression but also recommends some other desserts, including which shops to stop at in the city.

It's starting to snow as you two talk, which is not rare but still unusual for this region, but thankfully it's not much longer before you're each handed your containers and move aside. You look over to him and laugh when you realize this guy is already munching on one of the onigiris, your breath puffing out in a small cloud before you. "Which one is it?"

"Fatty tuna." He talks around it with his own little puffy cloud and it's pretty cute actually, instead of the usual cringe when people talk with their mouths full. Oh, the benefits of being good looking. Also, he's tilted his head down ever so slightly so it's almost polite in a perfected way.

"I'm just going to go ahead and assuming you're enjoying it."

He nods while swallowing and then makes some pretty intense eye contact while speaking way too seriously, "Thank you. This is amazing."

You smile, feeling like in the minutes the two of you were conversing, you've gotten a little more comfortable with the minute changes in his expressions. "You're welcome. I'm going to head over to the drink stall now, but it was nice to meet you!"

With a laugh as you walk away, you also add, "And thank you for sharing your knowledge with me, at least I'll know where to feed myself when I'm craving different things this week."

You're turning away as he seems to stand there watching you with some hesitation, but you can't do all the heavy lifting in a conversation when you're on a time limit, so you'll chalk this up to another fun run-in with a cute guy for the books.

You're lucky there's no line up, you're really short on your deadline and your fingers are getting pretty cold along with your coffee, so you pay for the hot chocolate, they pour, and you're back off towards the end of the street where your cousins are waiting.

You can't move too fast given the bag dangling from the wrist of the hand that's also carefully holding the tray of four hot chocolates, but the crowd is also thinning out a little now with the snow. Hopefully, if you're a couple minutes behind the expected time, the diverse and sheer amount of onigiri you have in the bag you're now holding, as well as the new round of warm drinks, will bring you forgiveness.

You finish up the last, cool dregs of your coffee just as you pass by a trash can, making the split decision to quickly reverse so you can toss your cup and free up a hand. As you execute your smooth move and then turn back, you unsurprisingly bump into someone yet again. Not so smooth then, you think, looking up.

It's deja vu and for a split second, you consider that he might actually be a weirdo and followed you, because stopping in your path as an apology drops from your lips is the guy you were only just talking to, same face, same dark hair, even same height... but with a different jacket on.

It takes you all of one more second to notice the small differences like the eye colour, the way the hair naturally parts, and the slightest difference in size, not to mention the more obvious difference in openness and personality literally exuding from this one. He's actually smiling wide right away with no provocation. So not a weirdo who changed his jacket and followed you.

Also, have you ever considered the odds of multiple sets of twins being in pretty much the same place at the same time?

"Oh, there's another one of you, huh?" You're talking again before he even has a chance to respond to your apology, but you guess you feel familiar thanks to your brief encounter with his twin. "That's unfair, don't you think?"

You step around him calling out, "Anyways, sorry about that. Enjoy your night." and walk away, back towards your own set of twins.

Ugh, Kazu's going to kill you. You won't be making it in time, for sure.

Miya Atsumu's POV

Atsumu turns to follow the stunning girl's progress as she moves around him and away, catching her last words but still more interested in her previous statement. 'There's another one of you, huh?'.

People have been confusing him and his twin for as long as they've been alive and only those that know them really well can only sometimes make out the difference.

It's no longer amusing, and actually irritating enough that he and 'Samu have been considering a little aesthetic change some time next year, maybe before their first year of high school.

'Tsumu knows it's his brother without looking when someone walks up to his left side from behind him. What he's surprised by is his first words, "She think you were me? I was talkin' to her a bit at the stall."

When he glances over, he notices 'Samu staring after her as well, with a lot more interest than simple, piqued curiosity. Does he know her?

"No.." He contemplates her words again before sharing with his brother, "She said 'There's another one of you, huh? That's unfair, don't you think?' and then walked away."

He can feel 'Samu looking over at him curiously, "Did ya talk to her?"

Why is he asking? He hasn't even picked up a new onigiri from the open box in his hand. "I just bumped into her. Didn't even say a word. Do ya know her?"

"Like I said, I only just met her." Pausing, 'Samu seems to think it over before adding, "We only talked a few minutes, maybe."

The twins are silent for another couple moments, while the snow continues to drift around them. The girl is long gone, swallowed up by the crowd at this point, but they keep staring at where they last saw her retreating figure, each in their own intrigued thoughts.

Finally, 'Samu's the one who breaks the silence, "Do ya believe in coincidences, 'Tsumu?"

"No, 'Samu, ya know I don't."

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Tee was called out in the first thread because he doesn't use emojis often, especially not the half assed ones he used for a scenario like that so... caught slipping lmao (aw he does care about Y/n <3 Maybe more than he should?)

-Y/n was NOT expecting to get called out like that for saying she likes Oikawa when she'd literally just called him her friend... Iwa, you slick wingman ;) <3 He might bully the shit out of Oikawa (to keep him in check though) but he really is his best friend :')

-Ushi says what he means and means what he says lol, yeah, he wasn't really surprised

-Y/n's friends aren't all necessarily happy about this development; they've been aware of her various interactions as they usually are (some more than others) but... they're getting older and, well, all not sharing as much with each other as they once did

-But they're still going to call her out and roast her because they're her best friends lmao who else will? They have to keep her in check too loool

-Oikawa's last reply... <33 Take it how you will :D

-And Shin just dropping in to screenshot his cousin's embarrassing moments, hoping for a dirty delete so he can roast her all over again for the same crime lmao, probably shouldn't have warned her though... whoops

-I HC the Miyas' hair dyeing happening at/around their first year of HS, anyone know any different? It was only Osamu's jacket that was grey in Y/n's peripherals, just a little tease for us all ;)

A/N: Guys, I'm really, really sorry about the Miyas' 'accent'... you might see a couple different attempts in there but I had to edit a lot of what I tried out because it sounded just awful however I was originally trying to write it earlier. If you guys do have any suggestions, I'm very much all hears (and eyes lol - heart eyes specifically because I've seen some write them incredibly well!).

That aside, I hope you all enjoyed this one, I loved writing it so much, it just flowed once I started and I love the Miya twins, each in their own way <33 I've been dying to introduce them and the other 'main' characters but there's definitely going to be a difference in the weight of interactions Y/n has for a while. It's not favoritism, I promise; Y/n's time spent with various characters is just going to be uneven at various points due to the natural progression of her story :') but I plan for it all to even out as we move along the years (:

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot

[felidaefighter]

Sleep, And Be Safe

[angst with a happy ending, melancholy, Wilbur’s death comes up briefly, AU where Phil adopts Ranboo and Wilbur repairs his relationships; Philza POV]

Philza tells his son a bedtime story. Philza watches his son die. Philza tells his other son a bedtime story. Philza watches his son tell a bedtime story.

“Phil? I’m tired,” Wilbur says in a quiet, pleading voice.

Phil knows Wilbur is old enough to be outgrowing these things, that soon this will be the last time he whines like this; still a child, still his father’s son, but getting older and smarter every day. He wraps his wing around the pre-teen and sighs in resignation.

“You’re getting old for this,” Phil says matter-of-factly.

“I know,” Wilbur says, and with a yawn, adds “Please?”

Phil sits down on the bed, black shadow of his wings partially wrapping around the two of them. “I’m assuming you don’t want to hear about The Goddess Of Flowerfall, The Empress Of The Void, or The King Who Stole The World,” he said, already knowing the answer and the story his son wanted. Wilbur shook his head, confirming it.

“Right,” Phil began.

“Once, at the start of the world, there was only day. And a crow who loved her children very, very much. But the children were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, they wound up getting hurt. The crow pleaded with her children to rest sometimes, but the children asked, “How can we rest, when the world is full of things to see?” So the crow came up with a plan. It was a simple plan.”

As he spoke, he drew his wings tighter and tighter around the two of them, engulfing them both slowly-- he smiled softly as he saw Wilbur’s eyes fluttering shut.

“The crow thought, “If my children have nothing to see, they will be able to rest; at least for a little while.” So she gathered them all up in their nest, and wrapped her black wings around them for a long time. And they slept. And when she opened her wings, it was the first morning. The crow did this many times, and every time, it worked. But the crow realized she couldn’t do this forever. And she saw other creatures, without her beautiful wings, with children who were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, wound up getting hurt. So the crow made one final plan.”

Phil stopped, hearing the snoring coming beneath his wings, and suppressed a chuckle. It seemed like no matter how old Wilbur grew, that trick would always work. Gently, he unfolded his wings, and repositioned Wilbur in a way that wouldn’t give him a headache upon waking, throwing a blanket over him before leaving the room. He hummed, finding himself thinking a little on the old fable. If only things were actually so simple that a full night’s rest could cure wanderlust and keep his child safe.

-----

It’s been a long time since Phil has wrapped his wings around his son. As he’d suspected, wanderlust had claimed him as soon as it was able; Wilbur had been a traveller and a poet for nearly half his life now, sending his own tales of adventures in long-winded letters and sometimes regaled to him by Phil’s own eager flock of crows. It was rare they got to speak in person; even rarer for Phil to wrap his wings around Wilbur, and rarer still for Wilbur to tell Phil that he was tired.

Phil has lived for what could be an eternity-- years go by in a blink, days mean almost nothing.

And yet, for about ten seconds, there’s enough time for a billion thoughts to race through his head. It’s the slowest ten seconds of Phil’s life. He has just enough time to react, to do what a parent naturally does and desperately attempt to shield his son from the force of the explosion with his whole body, wings and all. There are so many things in Phil’s head right now-- thoughts and concepts and worries and realizations and how he’s going to react when the explosion is over and those ten seconds are up. 

In the midst of all these thoughts, in a brief flicker, that old fable comes to mind. But the children were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, they wound up getting hurt. The crow pleaded with her children to rest sometimes, but the children asked, “How can we rest, when the world is full of things to see?” His wings surround Wilbur, and he can feel them burn, but it doesn’t matter. He can feel the damage eating them, but it doesn’t matter. Just for a moment, Phil has his wings around his son again. Just for a moment, he can pretend this can protect his son.

The ten seconds are up. The explosion stops. Wilbur begins to speak again, something desperate in his voice. He’s long gone. He’s hurt. He’s pleading. He’s pleading, and he sounds tired-- of life, that is, but still tired. If only life were so simple.

It ends with sleep eternal. There is no ache that repositioning can avoid; there is no blanket but the soft earth once a grave has been dug. There aren’t even any wings to cover him anymore, or time to spend mourning at this moment. It must be done later; there are other people’s children in danger; other creatures without beautiful black wings to protect them.

-----

“You alright mate?” Phil asks, giving Ranboo a side-eye. The tall hybrid had been muttering and moving strangely for about a half hour now, and it was starting to seem less like some quirky behavior that Ranboo was admittedly prone to and something unusual and potentially concerning instead.

“Hm? Oh--” Ranboo stopped his muttering sheepishly. “Phil, I’m tired,” He confesses. 

Nostalgia hits Phil in the gut as if it were the blunt end of a sword handle, but Phil is a seasoned warrior, and he takes it in stride, without Ranboo picking up on it. “Aw, mate,” Phil says fondly, and Ranboo flushes a bit, embarrassed.

“I’m fine,” Ranboo tries to say, but is cut off by his own giant yawn, jaw unhinging and dipping down towards his chest.

“Oh--” That was certainly a sight. It did, at least, distract Phil from his thoughts about when he’d last heard that particular sentence from a son of his. “Yeah, fine,” Phil drawls smugly, “Looks like someone’s tired.”

“Phil!” Ranboo chides, but the hybrid is drooping in his posture and looking more like a ragdoll than an enderman by the minute. Phil starts to subtly cart Ranboo off to the spare room in his house, deciding that the short trek through the snow to Ranboo’s own house is a trek too much. “I can take care of myself!”

Phil knows this. Phil knows that Ranboo is an adult, that Ranboo is capable of taking care of himself. Phil also knows this is never enough. That protection from harm is a dream that parents tell themselves to ease the worries and fend off the truth that you simply can’t control everything. That it’s a good thing, to have children who are capable, who are strong, who don’t need your wings around them in the night anymore. Phil stops his fussing for a moment, and sighs.

“I know,” He tells Ranboo, who tilts his head at the tone. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so bossy. It’s more-- it’s more for me than you. I haven’t done this in a long time, and I kinda missed the chance to do it with you when you were a kid,” Phil admits. Ranboo contemplates this.

“You don’t have to let me parent you this hard,” He says with a small cackle, “And you’re welcome to sleep in your own bed. God, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

He does know, it’s just hard to admit something like that. 

“I would like to sleep in my own bed, yeah,” Ranboo says awkwardly, and it’s Phil’s turn to be a little embarrassed. “But-- but if you want you can come with me to say goodnight?”

“I’d like that,” Phil says. He’d like that.

They get to Ranboo’s house, Phil kisses Ranboo goodnight on the forehead, and Phil goes to leave-- but he hesitates. “Can I, ah--” Phil cuts himself off. He is being overbearing. He is being embarrassing. “Nevermind, nevermind, it’s stupid,” He mutters under his breath.

“Hm? No, what were you gonna ask?” Ranboo says, sleepy though he is.

“Can I tell you a story?”

There it is. Awkward, but out there now. Sometimes Phil hates having a soft side. And Ranboo--

“Oh! Sure! I get the feeling that I’ve probably never heard the stories you have in mind, too, so that might be nice,” Ranboo replies, expressing what appears to be genuine interest.

Something unfurls in Phil’s heart, opening it up for the first time in a long, long time, to the light of the adventurous day. Well, it’s nighttime, but the metaphor still stands. Maybe Phil isn’t a failure of a parent after all. Maybe sometimes, people just grow up. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be a father. Phil takes a moment to compose himself, appreciative of Ranboo’s patience. He thinks for a moment.

“I’ve got a few,” He begins sheepishly. “Which would you like to hear? We’ve got the Goddess Of Flowerfall, the Empress Of The Void, The King Who Stole The World, or The Mother Of Night.”

“Ooooh,” Ranboo says, and it occurs to Phil that the fables he tells probably are outdated. He has no idea if anyone other than him and Wil-- well, Fundy, he supposes-- know them anymore. It might be nice, Phil thinks fondly, to have someone else to tell them now. Maybe pass them on to Michael, even. That would be nice.

“Those all sound really interesting,” Ranboo says. “How about… uhhh…”

-----

Phil stops when he overhears Wilbur talking with Fundy in the guest bedroom. Had it always been so melancholic a story? Phil wasn’t sure how much it mattered, really; a bedtime story was a bedtime story, after all, and as long as it got your son to sleep everything would be alright. He listened just outside the door as Wilbur spoke.

“...She decided that she would have to do this for all the children of all the creatures, for not everyone had wings as she but many had children who were just as prone to adventure and harm. So because her will was strong and her love was stronger, she grew and grew and grew, until she was so big that she could cover the world if she so chose. And she does-- every night, she takes her black wing and wraps it around the world. And she watches over us with one big silver eye-- though sometimes she has to blink. So although the night is full of dark and danger, it is when we must rest, because the night is borne of love. Sleep, and be safe.”

Phil quietly stepped into the room as Wilbur finished the story. Surprisingly, even with Wilbur’s silver tongue, Fundy had managed to just barely keep his eyes open. “I still think the blinking thing is stupid,” Fundy muttered tiredly. Wilbur laughed awkwardly. “It ah, works a little better if you have an actual wing to cover you with.” Phil chuckled, earning a glance from the two of them.

“That’s true, the dark and warmth puts you out like a light pretty fast,” Phil confesses, “Which is why it’s a favored story for a lot of parents.” He sits down beside the two of them and wraps his wings around his boys. They are both adults and far too tall to comfortably fit in the span of, but Fundy is half-asleep as it is and within seconds is snoring just like his dad used to. Phil watches Wilbur suppress a chuckle, and gently unfolds his wings to let Wilbur take care of the rest.

Phil stands just outside the room, and Wilbur approaches him after Fundy is repositioned so he won’t have a headache when he wakes tomorrow. “I’m uh, trying to be a better dad to him,” Wilbur explains, “And if that means still doing some stuff that’s considered childish, that’s alright. He deserves a little bit of that, I think. Towards the end I wasn’t really-- I didn’t protect him. I wasn’t very nice. A bedtime story is the least I can do.”

It’s such a strange feeling, watching your son have a son of his own. He wonders if the feeling of failing to protect them, despite them being old enough that there’s nothing you can truly do, is hereditary, or if it’s just something that all fathers have to face eventually. “I’m just surprised you remember the ending,” Phil says instead, “Considering you were usually asleep by then.” Wilbur grins wide. “Yeah, well. Stories are my thing,” He sniffs, “I’m good at stories.”

Phil finds himself by the window, staring out at it and into the silver light of the moon. The snow reflects it, turning the night a deep blue and fading the stars. Wilbur follows suit, and follows his gaze. They stand like this for a while, the two of them, both fathers, both with their regrets.

“I’m sorry, Phil,” Wilbur says quietly. Phil’s heart aches and he longs to take all the burdens from his son’s chest. The silver light of the moon reflects, too, off of the streak in Wilbur’s hair. Wilbur has said it’s from age, but Phil is old and wise enough to know this is not the case. There are some burdens that are taken beyond the grave. Some things Phil will never know about his son. Phil has conceded this. But still-- Wilbur is his son. What else is there to say?

“I forgive you,” He says. “And I love you. And I’m sorry, too.” 

Wilbur shakes his head at that. “You have nothing to apologize for, Phil,” he says firmly. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Phil frowns at this but Wilbur has the stubbornness that runs in the family, and he definitely isn’t going to let Phil apologize if he thinks Phil in the right. Phil knows better than to try and argue for something he won’t win. 

“Right,” Phil says with a small clap, slightly startling Wilbur, “I’ve told enough stories in my time and it’s clear you haven’t told nearly as many. It’s your turn. Tell me a real story-- something you left out in your letters. I’d like to know you again, the way I used to.”

“...I can’t really argue with that,” Wilbur says softly and with a sigh. He shakes his head. “You’re right as always, Phil.”

They both take a seat, and Wilbur begins to speak, telling an only-a-little-bit-embellished story about one of the battles they held in the L’Manberg war for independence. As desperately as Phil wishes he could have been there, he is content to listen to the adventure Wilbur had, full of wonder it was. Sometimes these things are worth it.

The black wing of night envelopes them, and although neither of them sleep, for now, in this moment, they are safe.

[bladekindeyewear]

Okay so, I have no idea who Aesma is. What does "Turning Vriska into Homestuck's Aesma" mean in this context?

I really don’t want to get into it much, as Kill Six Billion Demons is truly incredible from top to bottom so far and I think it’s more fun to go in blind.  Ideally, ignore everything I have to say and go read it some time.  (Be sure to read the text posts under every so-odd page, the sometimes-present hover-over alt-text too, et cetera.)  Like, don’t even read this post, even though it isn’t really a spoiler.

However, to sum it up if you want it.....

In the mythological pantheon outlined in K6BD, Aesma is the mother of chaos and quite seemingly the embodiment of the Id.  In stories of her exploits with titles like “Aesma and the Three Masters (and the lessons she never learned)”, Aesma is depicted as the epitome of willful selfishness and ignorant wickedness, a committer of atrocities both intentional and inadvertent -- and is also the most beloved of the Creator’s children by said Creator, not just for stripping bare the hubris of others, even the Divine, but for embodying the selfish drive of Life that distinguishes (and in this Creator’s view, should rightly distinguish) the living from nothingness.  She is selfish to the point of stupidity, egotistical in a way that is constantly self-defeating, and yet a paradoxically shining example of an attitude one must embrace in some respect to truly strive in life -- and an example none that live should believe themselves above.  Even the angels begin their prayers with her name in deference, though not exactly entirely admiringly.

You COULD say that some of the writers of Homestuck^2 love Vriska a bit more than the average fan, to say the least, and a little more than Andrew did.  And you could both judge from the story’s current contents and expect from the known views of said writers that they are PERHAPS more likely to focus on how awesome she is than the pain and suffering her continued refusal to learn anything will keep bringing down on everyone.  Showing her toxic flaws off, sure, but at the same time (in some crucial ways) having the narrative almost “forgive” them because she gets results. NOT that they've quite done so YET, not entirely! But they might.

That possibility worries me.

As far as Vriska went, the pre-Epilogue ending of Homestuck was pretty perfect for the story’s themes:  Vriska DID get to save the day, glory-hogging and fighting Lord English in the way she THOUGHT she wanted... but in the process was denied the Ultimate Reward, was in fact rendered irrelevant in the ways that ACTUALLY mattered and was left excluded from the happiness promised to those who decided that creating the next world and living in it mattered more to them than cosmic victory.  She chose relevance over everything else, and Paradox Space cursed her by granting her wish. (Never learning her lesson... and paying dearly for it, in ways she doesn't even realize.)

The Epilogues undermine her further.  They show that she was barely a cog in the machine that resulted in Lord English’s defeat.  They give her a second POTENTIAL chance at eventual happiness, but do so by “banishing her to irrelevance” and thrusting her into the “non-canon” storyline.  It was revealed recently in HS^2 that the history books of the Candy timeline didn’t even really give her actions any credit.

So... pretty much the worst thing I could imagine Homestuck^2 doing -- and I COULD imagine it doing this, unfortunately -- is taking this nigh-unrepentant abuser who has barely regretted her actions and torn the souls and potential out of characters like Tavros who were doomed never to recover from it, and “correcting” this ending a bit.  To have her potentially ruin an ENTIRE POST-VICTORY EARTH with another meteor apocalypse (or try to), to continue her same selfish attitude portrayed in FURTHER “heroic” light, and then have the narrative ITSELF imply that everyone should be thanking her in the end????

There are some good lessons to learn from Vriska’s better qualities.  However, K6BD’s mythological stories of Aesma treat her depiction VERY carefully, or I guess I should say heavy-handedly -- leaving NO illusions or ambiguity about the evil of her actions, the caustic ignorance inherent in the lessons she refuses to learn, turning a selfish perpetual-child into an almost-pitiable one that ultimately DOES “lose”... even as the story cautions everyone not to pity her, as to think oneself too much “better” than her is a grave and arrogant error.  That deliberate, clear nuance would be LOST if the same reverent narrative treatment were ultimately given to Vriska.  Homestuck^2 would become a vehicle to forgive her abuse, her choice of ignorance, as something that can be ultimately padded over or mulliganed at the last minute.  The stories of Aesma carefully depict her to show that if she had learned ANY lesson -- ANY at all in the multiple opportunities given to her throughout her storied life -- she could have been not just the Creator’s most beloved, but truly the greatest in every respect WE value.  And the tragedy that she does not is both unforgivable / deserving of mockery, AND a cautionary, frank depiction of Humanity itself as sharing that same blind failing.

Homestuck is another work that constantly tries to show the value in people who are flawed -- even dangerous.  (Unsurprising that they’d share this, given how K6BD began as an adventure on the MSPA Forums.)  Trying to blindly do the SAME to Vriska as Aesma, though, to finally end the story of the Homestuck series as one that gives her her “due credit”, risks communicating an awful lesson that her crimes were “worth it” despite trampling over the will of almost everyone else who exists, both inside and outside canon.  If it’s not done VERY, VERY CAREFULLY.

I hope they avoid this route altogether, and instead -- since it’s unlikely she’ll purely “die” achieving relevance at the cost of happiness again -- have her finally accept SOME degree of mediocrity in a way that actually learns her a fucking lesson for once, and doesn’t just let Vriska shut her sins into the closet and lean casually on the door, after a brief show of considering contrition or a disproportionately-small sob that her victims’ roiling, broken ghosts would roll their eyes at.

[badassbeifong]

The Chief’s Lover (Pt. 4)

! Gif not mine !

Word Count: 1865

Warnings: Mild swearing

Author’s Note: I know! Not enough Lin in this one! Don’t worry! Next chapter will have more Lin!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you ready?”

You blinked and looked to your left. Tarrlok was sitting beside you in his car, ready to drive off but apparently waiting for your approval. You nodded, seeing as you had no other option.

“Good.”  He drove off and you held back your tears.

“Did I do something to upset you?”  Tarrlok asked suddenly and you stared at him in disbelief.

“Really? You have the audacity to ask me that?”  You crossed your arms.

“Personally, I think I’m doing you a favour.”  He smirked and you had the urge to hit him over the head.

“How so?”

“Huh?”

“How are you doing me a favour?”  You narrowed your eyes at him and he sighed.

“All in good time my dear.”

You frowned and looked out the window. You knew that you were doing the right thing but it just hurt so much. You really cared about Lin but you couldn’t keep putting her in compromising positions. It wasn’t fair to her.

“Doing some deep thinking over there?”  Tarrlok asked you and you lost it.

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“You heard me. First you threaten Lin and make her resign, then you practically kidnap me, what are you planning?”  You said and he pulled over to the side of the road.

“You intrigue me.”

“If it were coming from anyone else, I would take it as a compliment.”

“I was going to wait until we got back to my office but you’re really putting pressure on me so we’ll do this now.”  Tarrlok pulled out the papers that he was holding earlier and handed them to you.

“What do you want me to do with this?”  You asked him and when he didn’t reply, you decided to read it and figure it out yourself.

“I need you to sign at the bottom.”  He said casually which irritated you, considering what was on the paper.

“You want me to marry you? Have you lost your damn mind?!”  You shouted and he sighed deeply.

“If you’d let me explain-”

“Explain what? How insane you are so I can be prepared for the future? What the hell is wrong with you?”  You tried to open the door but he had locked it.

“You see, I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. For about...two years, I’ve been watching you. And about a year ago, I decided that I wanted to marry you.”  He said all of this as if it was normal.

“Great story. Really emphasizes how messed up you are. Listen carefully ok? I am not going to marry you.”  You handed the paper back to him but he didn’t seem phased.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Of course I do. And I choose no. Now let me out.”  You tugged at the door again but he didn’t unlock it.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear me out.”  He smirked again and you had to hold yourself back from punching him in the face.

“What?”

“If you choose to leave now and not marry me, I will personally make sure that Lin is fired and I can’t guarantee whether she’ll be safe. If you marry me, I will never contact her again unless it’s permitted by the council.”  He smiled at you and you sighed as you realized what you had to do.

“Fine. I’ll...I’ll marry you.”  You whispered and he nodded.

“I knew you were smart.”  He said as he merged back onto the road and continued driving.

You signed the papers quietly, trying not to cry as you did so. You felt as though you were practically signing your whole life away.

“I think I’ll take you back to my house instead of my office. We should celebrate our marriage, don’t you think?”  He smiled and you could feel your anger rising.

“You’re sick.”

“Ah well, no one would believe that my own wife would say that.” 

You closed your eyes and tried to think of a way out of this. Maybe you could burn the papers and run away? No, Lin would be in danger. Maybe you could run away with her? Also no, she would want to stay and fight.

“We’re here. Oh, I hope you’re not thinking of running away. You’ll only be making the situation worse.”  Tarrlok said as he parked the car and unlocked the doors.

“I wasn’t.”  You mumbled back as you opened the car door and stepped outside.

You might hate the man but you couldn’t deny the fact that his house looked amazing. It was huge, way too much space for one person but then you considered that maybe he was holding other people hostage here too. But there was no way that he was that insane, right?

“Congratulations. You’re the first person, other than myself, to have entered my house.”  Tarrlok said to you as he opened the door and ushered you inside.

The inside of his house was just as magnificent as the outside. The decor was beautiful, the walls were painted so that they blended well with the flooring and the whole house smelled...pretty. If pretty could be a scent. You weren’t surprised about the scent though, seeing as Tarrlok himself smelled like a woman. Which did bother you.

“Lovely isn’t it?”  Tarrlok asked you as he noticed your look of awe.

“It’s alright.”  You shrugged and looked up at him.

“You’re probably wondering what to do now, aren’t you?”

“Um, no. I was thinking of ways to knock you out.”  You smiled innocently at him and he frowned.

“Now dear, you really shouldn’t try. It’ll-”

“Only make things worse, yes I know. You’ve only said it a billion times.”

“I do believe I said it once.”

“That’s already too many.”  You rolled your eyes.

Tarrlok turned to you and pinned you to the wall. It wasn’t as comfortable as you had imagined it, seeing as though he was doing this more out of anger than lust. Plus, you had never imagined it with him. 

“Do you think I’m joking?”  You could tell that he was angry but you didn’t care.

“No because kidnapping is not a joke.”  You replied and he tightened his grip causing you to wince slightly in pain.

“I didn’t kidnap you. You chose to come with me, remember?” 

“Yeah, only after you threatened the woman I care about!”  You kicked his knee and he let go of you.

“You’ve got one hell of a kick.”  He stated as he winced whilst trying to stand straight.

“The next one is coming for your face. Now here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to let me go, you’re going to leave Lin alone and you’re never going to mention any of this to anyone.”  You were trying to threaten him but Tarrlok saw right through you.

“You’re in pain, aren't you? The toxin is still in your body. Any minute now, you’ll pass out. That’s why you put so much power into that kick.”  He walked towards you and just as he said it, you passed out.

“I’ll take care of you my love. Don’t you worry.”  He carried you upstairs as you went in and out of consciousness. 

You had to admit, if Tarrlok wasn’t so insane, he could actually be a nice guy. He seemed nice enough...and he was actually kind of amusing. And he smelled nice?

“What did you do to me?”  You mumbled as you realized that your thoughts were now very different from before.

“I didn’t do anything. Why? Are you starting to fall in love with me?”  He smiled down at you and for the first time, you noticed how nice his eyes were.

You blinked and shook your head, trying to erase those thoughts but they wouldn’t leave. Tarrlok must have done something to you but when? When he pushed you against the wall maybe? Or when he caught you?

“It was when I caught you, if you were wondering.”  Tarrlok said as he gently placed you onto his bed.

“So you did do something to me!”  You shouted but he only laughed.

“I did. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it?”  He stroked your hair softly and you suddenly felt calm.

“No...I guess it doesn’t.”  You mumbled as you started to fall asleep.

“Good.”  He gently kissed your forehead and then left the room as you slept.

Tarrlok went downstairs and picked up the paper that you dropped on the floor when you passed out. He smiled when he saw your signature and the little frowning face drawn beside it. It was these little childish things that made him like you. You were a free spirit. And now, you were his. And there was no one who could get in the way of your love.

“Tarrlok, are you home? I need to talk to you.”  Tarrlok froze as he heard Tenzin’s voice come from outside of his door.

“Tenzin! What could be so important that you had to make a house call?”  Tarrlok smiled at Tenzin but he did not smile back.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“No. Not since I went to introduce myself at the hospital. Why?”

“She passed out again at the police station so Lin took her back to her place but when I went there, Lin told me that she was gone. She didn’t say anything else though.”  Tenzin searched for any slip up in Tarrlok’s facial expressions but found nothing. He was too good at hiding his emotions.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. I haven’t seen her. I’ll let you know if I do come across her.”  Tarrlok didn’t wait for the airbender’s response as he closed the door.

“God damnit Y/N, why do you have so many people who care about you?”  Tarrlok mumbled out of frustration as he went back upstairs to check on you.

Little did he know, Tenzin hadn’t left just yet and heard Tarrlok. He now knew that Tarrlok had you somewhere in his house. But without solid evidence, he couldn’t bring the police here. The only person who could help him was Lin.

Tenzin made his way back to Lin’s house as fast as could and knocked on her door. She opened the door but didn’t say anything.

“Lin, I need your help.”

“What do you want?”

“I think Tarrlok has Y/N-”

“I can’t help you Tenzin.”

“I- what? Why not?”  Tenzin frowned. 

“If it involves Tarrlok or Y/N...I can’t do anything.”  Lin closed the door.

“Lin! I don’t understand! Why can’t you help me?”  Tenzin shouted but got no response.

The only way he could save you was with Lin. Which meant that he had to figure out a way to get Lin to help him. But he couldn’t figure out why Lin was refusing to help, especially since she seemed to care so much about you. If Tenzin wanted her help, he was going to have to start from the beginning and figure out why Lin was so afraid of anything related to you and Tarrlok. Unbeknownst to him, Tarrlok had plans for you.

And if Tenzin didn’t hurry, it would be too late.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 1 - Frankenstein

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies​

“We buried you.”

The feast before Kim Jang Won is absolutely stunning. Lemon meringue tarts, strawberry smoothies (with actual strawberry bits in them), pancakes and freshly buttered croissants, a gorgeous transparent glass pot with the golden shade of chamomile tea and a beautiful tray of puffs and eclairs.

It would be even more stunning if it wasn’t her view every morning though.

“Hey, um, don’t we have like alternating menus or something for breakfast? I feel like I’m eating the same thing every morning now, it’s kinda getting tacky.”

“Miss Kim, I hope you know you’re the one who decides what the menu is. You chose this set like a week ago and you told us not to change it for the next two weeks.”

Jang Won sneers at her butler, arguably the only person on the property to has the guts to talk to her in a way that could get her fired.

“You’re lucky I can trust you.”

Ro Il Jung purses his lips into a thin white line, scratching his cheek with one of those knuckly, wrinkly-skin-covered fingers of his. “You seem to forget that I wanted to retire last year, Miss Kim.”

Jang Won huffs childishly, sticking her tongue out, now a gentle, thick shade of smoothie on her tongue. “I’ll let you retire when I find someone else I can trust, Mr Ro. It’s just too bad I don’t have anybody in mind right now.”

Mr Ro shakes his head like a parent disapproving of his child, but a house guard pulling the heavy doors of the entrance over accompanied by some urgent yelling tears his attention away from the owner of the mansion. 

Jang Won looks up from her butter and croissant, at Mr Ro, who excuses himself before heading for the entrance hall. 

“Sir,” He begins before he can even note the visitor. “If you could--”

“Mr Ro!”

Jang Won hears her butler’s words fade to a complete silent, only listening to their visitor talk. But it’s strange, because it’s a familiar voice...

Mr Ro cannot believe the sight before his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still working here. It’s so great to see you again!” Then the visitor pulls Mr Ro into a hug, harshly patting the space between his shoulder blades. 

The lady of the house cannot take it anymore, not when she can’t eavesdrop on the conversation occurring in her own halls. So she gets up from the table, heels clacking against the marble floor as she heads into the entrance hall.

“Alright now, who’s got the guts to stop me in the middle of my French breakfast this morning?”

Mr Ro turns in silent shock, eyes wide and glaring while Jang Won processes the face of the visitor. 

The man hadn’t looked like he aged a day since he was--

“I’m sorry,” Jang Won scoffs, waving her beautifully done manicured fingernails in the air. “If this is some impractical joke, please do tell because my brain is just about to explode from the sight right now. Y’know,” She gestures to her head and mimics the sound of a bomb. 

“Jang Won...” The visitor strides towards her, arms wide. But she raises a palm and shifts backwards, a cautious half-smile mixed with a frown plastered to her flawless skin. 

“Not another step, nuh-uh,” Waving a finger before his nose, she shakes her head. “There is no way in Hell you can be standing here.”

“Oh, but I am, love,” Once a warm voice that sang her to sleep, Jang Won cannot decide if the tears in her eyes are welling from relief or fear. “I’m home.”

“No... no!” She slaps away his outstretched hands. “We... we buried you...”

“And I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now, my child, but... we have more important things to worry about.”

Mr Ro’s face is contorted with a mess of confusion and anxiety and he watches the first tears fall down Jang Won’s cheeks. 

“What...? ‘More important’-- No, how is anything more important than you... standing here?” The last word comes out like a final breath, at a volume just enough for him to hear. 

“I came bearing news, Jang Won. I-- Well...” He rubs the back of his head, eyes tilted down to his feet. “Because I’ve return to the board of administration now... part of the company now comes back to... me--”

What?

“And... you cannot inherit any part of the company unless you are married to someone from a family from the same administration board.”

Jang Won’s tears solidify into fumes of anger as the thought runs through her neurons. The middle aged man begins to panic when he can read the rage in her eyes, her fists now clenched and the markings of her rings probably embedded into the flesh of her palm. Her knuckles begin to turn white as does his face, ever so slightly.

“Now, now, love. I know what you’re thinking and we can sit down and have a chat about this--”

“‘Sit down and have a chat’?” Jang Won scoffs miserably, lower jaw hanging agape. “Why don’t we sit down and let me ask you whiCH SCIENTIST MADE YOU FRANKENSTEIN?!”

The hallways of the mansion echo the shouts, the sound waves bouncing back and forth between the marble walls mostly adorn with gorgeous, one-in-a-million paintings. 

“That’s not important now, hun. I just need you to understand that without this marriage, you will lose the house and everything you own from HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“I built HERA & ARTEMIS after you were fucking bURIED! Who are you to tell me that you will inherit it ownership and I can’t just because I’m not married?!”

“These were instructions from The Board, Jang Won. I had absolutely no say over this--”

“BULLSHIT! If you have the power to take ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS just because you climbed out of your own grave, why don’t you have the power to help m-- Oh, oh...” Jang Won frowns in disdain, disgust welling her lungs and her gut. 

“What?” His eyes widen and shoulders shrug.

“You came back just to tell me this... because you want HERA & ARTEMIS for yourself.”

“What-- No--”

"You... low-life... scumbag!" The sharp shatter of the glass cabinet behind him echoes through the entrance hall of the mansion. One of the palm-sized statues sitting on the table in the middle of the circular hall lands amongst the billion pieces of glass on the marble floor.

"You give me my freedom and now you tell me I have to get married?!" The final word is literally pushed through her teeth when she cannot clench her jaws even harder. The tremors vibrating up her fist and into her arm and then her entire body makes her look like a volcano ready to erupt, so if these people haven't gotten enough, they have yet to see what's in store.

"Just who the HELL do you think you are?!" Grabbing another one of those tiny statues, Jang Won throws it into the other glass door of the cabinet.

"Jang Won, will you calm down?!"

"Don't you DARE tell me to calm down! You waltz back into this house after GOD knows how long- Hell, we BURIED you!"

"There was a mistake of the body identification and frankly, I expected a warmer welcome from you!"

"HA! A ‘warmer welcome’?! What do you want me to do? Set the entire house on fire? Do you want me to? Because I will!" The man has his brows furrowed back, palms out stretched to her. The mansion staff have all gathered a safe distance around the two of them, Mr Ro and some of those closer to Jang Won trying their best to get to her and calm her nerves but there is just absolutely no way she isn’t going to hurl a brick at her father.

"I can't BELIEVE you're standing there as if you own this place," The muscles around Jang Won’s nose twitches as the frown sinks deeper into her forehead. "I want you to hear this mighty well and crystal clear. You may have been the one who gave me life, but you will never EVER be my dad.”

The huffs that are billowing out Jang Won’s nostrils are starting to hurt.

"There is not a single cent you're stepping on - or touching, for that matter - that belongs to you. The only reason why I haven't fucking put a bullet through your right eye is because I'd go to jail and every thing I've worked for would be thrown out the window.”

“Now, now, love, we can sit down and be civilized about this—”

“Fuck you,” The anger surges through her, and she picks up one more palm-sized statue from the blue resin table. The heavy bronze weight leaves her fingers, and before it can hit the slightly aged man, someone reaches out and catches it instead.

“What the HELL are you doing?!” The scream echoes through the hall of the mansion. Younghoon sighs heavily, hand retreating back to his side as he hands the statue to one of the house staff.

“You have no right to get involved in this—”

“Jang Won, let’s go,” Younghoon strides across the space and grabs her arm, back-facing his father and trying to pull her in the opposite direction. “We can talk about this in your office.”

“How are you thinking straight?! We BURIED him! We watched his coffin get lowered into—”

“I know! I was there!” His eyes flutter shut in frustration, shoulders raising as he sucks in a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. “There’s no point destroying your own property over this. We can carry out some investigations, figure out what really happened, then we’ll work from there.”

The grip on her arm tightens when her instincts try to writhe away from him, but obviously, he doesn’t relent.

“Don’t do it. It’s not worth your time, or mine.”

He stares down at Jang Won, but it doesn’t scare her, not when she has a ghost standing right in the middle of some shattered mess. Not one cut on him.

Younghoon grimly shuts the door as Jang Won stomps over to her office desk and rests her palms flat against the Agar Wood surface. With a sharp, swift feat, she swipes nearly all the documents off the furniture. But when she misses the empty glass (that would usually be filled with some kind of alcohol or soda), she doesn't hesitate to pick it off the desk and propel it into the marble by the television mounted to the wall.

The shatter startles Younghoon as he whips around, eyes darting frantically between her and the mess she’s made.

"Jang Won!"

"Should I be concerned you don't seem one bit bothered that a dead man is standing in our living room - MY living room?"

"That dead man is our father."

"No, that dead man WAS our father before he ditched us! How are you not- UGH!"

Frustrated, furious and absolutely exasperate, she plops down into one of the two sofas sitting in the middle of the office, feet almost tempted to kick the frosted glass table in the middle but she holds herself back. Younghoon manages to get a few house staff into the room, who hurriedly help clear the glass and return the documents to the table. Fingers pressed into her temples, Jang Won could only imagine the gratification she could receive have if she had the chance to ram her first into someone's face.

Younghoon waits for the staff to leave, then stands by the sofa opposite her, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. The late morning sun reflects off his soft, dark brown locks when he absent-mindedly rubs the back of his head and he proceeds to unbutton his blazer to allow him a seat. The leather squeaks under his weight before he leans his elbows on his knees, knuckles resting under his lips and chin.

"Please tell me you're actually thinking and not just trying to look pretty. You're in my house now, not some studio photoshoot."

"I'm thinking about where to put a whole person for you."

"Don't bother, he's moved half his things into the first guestroom. He's probably holding a conductor's wand right now and asking the staff to help him with the second half."

"Have you called the funeral services?"

"And say what? 'Hey sir, have you... perhaps mis-screwed a coffin about 2 years back and now we might have a problem of a zombie'?"

"I'm just saying someone might've paid someone to replace the bodies!" Younghoon frowns, eyes stuck to the rug under his feet. "We don't know how it happened but someone MUST know, right?"

"I think your best bet is the asshole living down the hall now."

"He's not gonna budge, we both know that."

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, thanks for pointing out the obvious."

"I'm just trying to help. You need to stop your nonsensical whining and use your brain like how you used it to get all this money."

Jang Won picks up a pillow and hurls it into Younghoon. “You’re lucky you still stick around, else I’d have the both of you screwed over.”

Younghoon catches the pillow, holding it to his side. “The day I stop looking out for you is the day I die, alright? So you can be rest assured I’ll--”

“Miss Kim!” Mr Ro’s voice calls out from outside the office. 

“What is it, Mr Ro?” Younghoon turns and returns the call, head tilted towards the door. It croaks open, and Mr Ro’s eyes are tired, wary as he sticks his head in.

“Your father just left and... and I think you should see the news.” Mr Ro pushes past the heavy door and reaches for the remote sitting on the frosted glass. The television screen mounted above the fire place flickers on, and there it was, her father’s face.

“The Board has just confirmed the ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS will thus forth be returned to Kim Jo-Pil, father of Kim Jang Won, the current owner. Investigations as to Kim Jo-Pil’s supposed death two years ago are still ongoing.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“We’ll be-- Wha-- The Board’s just come in with some new information! Kim JO-Pil has announced a marriage between Kim Jang Won, current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS and Lee Juyeon, the next-in-line to becoming the next Director of Apple, South Korea.”

Younghoon’s eyeballs are about to bludgeon out of his eye sockets. “Jang Won... I know what you’re thinking... But don’t--”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM!”

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog, Ch.11-13

This is the “Balance of Power” arc.

One of the things that frustrated me about the Hellsing TV anime (as opposed to the Hellsing Ultimate version) was that the TV series aired while the manga was still running, and it seemed to struggle between following the source material or just diverging into all new stories.    I think if Gonzo had made up their minds one way or the other, it would have ended up a better show.   Instead, there were all these filler scenes of Seras training with human soldiers, which seemed like an utter waste of the character’s time.    Worse, this meant the human soldiers featured much more prominently than they ever did in the manga, where they all get killed off by Chapter 9 or something.   And if you know that’s coming, like I did, it makes the human soldiers that much more insufferable, because you know dorks like Farguson aren’t going to matter, but they get tons of screen time anyway.    Farguson is like every episode of Dragon Ball GT condensed into a single character.  

Here, in the original manga, it’s pretty clear that the soldiers never mattered, because the only time you ever see them is when Jan Valentines’ ghoul army slaughters them all.    They only existed so Integra would have something to be in charge of, but the only ones who actually matter here are herself, Alucard, Seras, and Walter.    In this chapter, Walter practically admits as much, when he states that there were 96 staff members, and now we’re down to ten: Walter, Integra, and eight jabrones who weren’t at the base that day.    Well, maybe those eight guys will show up later and do something important?   Bullshit they will, they never get mentioned again.   The Gonzoverse might have been able to break some new ground by focusing on those human characters more, but what they actually did was half-assed, and it looks all the more futile when you know how unimportant they are to the original work.   Walter just hires a band of mercenaries to backfill all the vacant positions, and I’ll give you three guesses what happens to those guys.

Concerning “Millennium”, their mysterious new enemy, no one has any idea what they are.    A bunch of people try to research it, because we didn’t have Google in 1999, or at least not Google as we now know it, so if you wanted to know something cryptic you just had to rummage through a card catalog in a library or whatever.    But Integra just makes the logical leap that “Millennium” is a reference to the “Thousand Year Reich” dreamed of by Nazi Germany.   This seems like a stretch, but I think Integra’s reasoning is that this is the only “Millennium” reference that could possibly be worth Hellsing’s attention.

Later, Integra meets the Wild Geese, the merc group Walter hired, and explains their assignment even referencing the Bram Stoker novel.    So I guess Dracula is a real book in the Hellsing world, but it must be at least partially based on a true story, right?   The Geese don’t buy any of this, so Integra introduces them to Seras to prove that vampires are real.

They all laugh at Seras until she starts flicking their leader, Pip Bernadotte, with her fingers.    Then Alucard shows up, and that seems to be enough to convince them.

After this, Integra gets a letter from the Iscariot Organization, inviting her to a meeting with Enrico Maxwell at the Imperial War Museum.    The whole thing introduces Bishop Maxwell very effectively.   He tries to play this off as a peaceful, diplomatic conference, but he makes Integra wait, and she’s still sore about Anderson’s violation of their treaty back in Chapter 5-6.   Maxwell takes all this in stride, then replies that he could care less about the deaths of even two billion Protestants, so the two guys Anderson killed mean nothing to him.    He’s only here because the Pope ordered him to do this, and he calls Integra a “Protestant sow” for good measure.  

At this, Alucard comes out to stand up for Integra’s honor, and then Maxwell responds by bringing out Anderson, except Anderson has a berzerker rage thing going, so it kind of ruins Maxwell’s posturing.    For all his contempt, he really was ordered to London to talk to Integra, so he’d probably get in trouble with the Pope if Anderson starts a big superhero battle in a museum.

In Cross Fire, the unpublished manga that was sort of a precursor to Hellsing, Maxwell looked a lot like Sir Integra does now, so when Kouta Hirano brought him back for this arc, he slicked his hair back and removed his glasses.   On the other hand, Integra doesn’t look much like the early Integra anymore either.    By now, Hirano seems to have settled on her design, straightening her hair out and making her face longer and thinner.   Anyway, Maxwell’s brinkmanship has backfired, and now even he can’t stop Anderson, so what can be done?

Luckily, Seras is here to provide a distraction, as she leads a tour group of elderly Japanese tourists through the gallery.    For some reason this kills Anderson’s fighting mood completely, so he leaves.    Alucard also leaves, because he hates being up during the day.    Walter gives Seras a hearty thumbs up for defusing this tense situation.    Good job, Seras.    You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

All right, so what’s so blamed important that the Pope would send Maxwell to London?    Well, he knows about Millennium’s attack on Hellsing’s base, and he has some juicy deets on them.   After making Integra say “please”, he explains that “Millennium” was a Nazi military unit responsible for transferring resources and personnel for Nazi Germany.    They relocated a ton of these resources and personnel to South America for safe keeping.    Integra’s not too impressed with that, since “Nazis fleeing to South America after the war” isn’t exactly a shocking revelation.  

The twist here, though, is that Millennium was smuggling Nazi stuff to South America during World War II. 

Also, the Vatican helped Millennium do this?   I never understood this part of the story, but I think it gets explained later.   I mean, it explains how Maxwell would have this lead to share with Hellsing, but it raises more questions than answers.

  Volume 2 ends with another chapter of Cross Fire, starring Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi.    In the first story, they saved hostages from Islamic terrorists.    This one is them recovering stolen church money from radical communists, which I guess could have been a thing in 1998?    It’s basically the same story, though, as they send Yumiko to infiltrate the bad guys, then they slaughter everyone in sight.    Mostly, I want to focus on the part at the end, where Maxwell, the leader of Iscariot, justifies the use of extreme hyper-violence in the name of the Catholic Church.   You sort of get the sense that the Iscariot Organization in Cross Fire was a concept in search of a villain.   the idea of two girl-assassins dressed as a nun and a priest might have had some traction, but Hirano really seems to have had trouble coming up with worthy enemies for them to fight.    But Hellsing brings vampires into the mix, which suits the Iscariots quite nicely.

Back to “Balance of Power”, the third part features Seras training with the Wild Geese in the middle of the night.   For some reason, Seras expects them to shoot targets from over 4km away.   She can do it, but only thanks to the vampiric senses Alucard showed her how to use.    It’s like she doesn’t realize that this is an ability she only has because she’s a vampire or something.   

Indoors, Alucard and Walter discuss the whole Nazi angle.    Al isn’t terribly surprised, because he only knows three who have ever used undead warriors for combat.   

1) Hellsing

2) Himself

3) The Nazis.

He knows #3 is legit, because he and Walter destroyed a Nazi research facility during the war.    Supposedly that contained all their work on the undead, but now that we know Millennium was smuggling important stuff from Nazi Germany to South America, it only makes sense that they’re the ones who devised the Valentines’ ghoul attack.    The bigger point of this scene is to reinforce that Walter used to be a big wheel in Hellsing, teaming up with Alucard to have Golden Age WWII adventures.   And now, Hellsing will be sending Alucard and Seras to South America to investigate this new threat.   

Here, Walter asks the big question: Why make Seras a vampire?   I’ll have more to say about this later, but I dig this scene because it works as an exposition scene, but there’s more to it than that.   Alucard’s only apparent motivations are over-the-top violence and doing his master’s bidding.   Helping Seras doesn’t seem to fit either of those, so it does indeed feel out-of-character.   You’d expect someone to ask this question, and by now there’s really only two people left who know Alucard well: Walter and Integra.   So yeah, let’s have Walter ask the question.    But later on, it becomes clear that the point is not the question itself, but the fact that Walter is the one asking it.  

For what it’s worth, Alucard doesn’t seem to know, or maybe he just doesn’t want to spell it out.   He keeps saying that it was her “choice”, except he had to make his own choice that night.    He could have just let her die, regardless of any requests she might have made.   Al remarks on her tremendous resilience on that night, since she was surrounded by death and hopelessness, but didn’t resign to her fate.    That impresses him, so I guess we can say that he chose her because he found her to be such an impressive specimen, in spite of some of her goofier behavior.    As it currently stands, Seras can’t even travel across rivers or oceans, a weakness for lesser vampires, but not a problem for Alucard himself.    He seems to think that’ll all be resolved once she finally drinks blood, and he expects that it’ll just be a matter of time before she does.    Ominous!

As far as transporting Seras to South America, Alucard figures the easiest thing to do is nail her shut in her own coffin.   The Wild Geese know a smuggling operation that can fly them to Brazil without any messy customs.   That works out, since they also have to transport Alucard’s coffin, and all the guns.

Integra asks why Alucard is dressed like this, and he says he can’t wear his usual stuff because he’d be too obvious to their enemies.    Also, he doesn’t need to spend the whole trip in his coffin, because sunlight and traveling over water doesn’t bother him, I guess?    I don’t really get the water thing.    If Seras can’t travel over running water, what difference does it make if she’s in her coffin or not?    I can accept that Alucard, who’s basically a super-vampire, would be immune to the whole water thing, but it becomes a plot point later on, so... aw, forget it   

Integra gives Alucard only one order: Search and Destroy, which seems kind of vague when you think about it.   Anyway, she’ll be saying this about a hundred times before the story is over, so we may as well appreciate the original.