#I know everything happens for a reason but GOD

[weatheringandweary]

The “Jason died to teach Apollo empathy” take reallllly bothers me, because… no..? That’s not what happened..??

Ignoring the fact that Apollo was willing to take his own life minutes before in an attempt to save Meg, Piper, and Jason - he’s been putting his life on the line for others since THO.

You can make the argument that the only reason he went after Kayla and Austin was because they were his kids if you want, but even throughout The Dark Prophecy he was willing to die if it meant saving someone else. He went out of his way to save Lityerses despite the fact he was his enemy, he straight up admitted to Trophonius that he was willing to die for Meg even though she betrayed him for Nero in the prior book, and then he went back to fight for the Waystation with a broken arm because they went through so much effort in supporting him through his trials. It’s actually baffling just how easy it is for him to fall in love with humanity, it’s not something he had to learn!

Jason had stuck his neck out for Apollo in BOO because he saw injustice. He knew Zeus was looking for a scapegoat and he used what little power he had against the king of the gods to try to spare his half-brother. Jason knew that even though he had been nothing but loyal to the gods and had saved the world twice over (cough cough fighting a titan bare handed and defeating Gaea alongside the seven cough cough), he was still just a cog in the system. He was only mortal. The most change he could make to the status-quo was ensuring that the other minor gods were represented in Camp Jupiter, but then he was issued a death sentence months later, so what power did he have really?

But you know who could make a difference?

Apollo. Apollo could.

The thing is, as much as Apollo complained about being a mortal, I honestly believe he would have rejected godhood had Jason not died. He had almost died several times over and the only one who offered him any Olympian assistance was his sister. He resented the Olympians for having all the power in the world and choosing to use none of it to help him or his friends. Apollo's biggest fear - one that overruled dying in my opinion - was becoming a god again, once again a puppet of his father, and falling back into his old ways out of fear and self-preservation.

I can't even count the amount of times where he was on the brink of death and felt relief and satisfaction at the thought of everything being over. He didn't want to die, but it was an escape from having to one day stand up against his father, his abuser. It was the easier alternative even if it was ultimately the worse one.

But Jason made him promise to keep going. To remember.

He had to get back to Olympus, remember all that has been sacrificed in order to return him to godhood so that he could make a better future. He has to live forever to ensure that generation after generation of demigods have someone supporting them indefinitely. So that they would not be as fearful and powerless as he was. He has to be immortal again so that he can use his power for good, as much as that scares him.

He had to become a god so he can look Zeus in the eyes and say "No, this is never happening again."

That's what Apollo learned.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIII)

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cuteness, some cuteness!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The curve of your eyes winds around my heart, A round of gentleness and dance, Halo of time, night cradle and safe, And if I no longer know all that I’ve lived It’s that your eyes haven’t always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew, Reeds of the wind, scented smiles, Wings shading the world of light, Boats brimming with sky and sea, Hunters of noise and sources of colour,

Scents bloomed from a brood of dawns That still rests on a bed of stars, As the day depends on innocence The whole world depends on your pure eyes And all my blood flows into their gaze.

Paul Eluard, Capitale de la douleur, 1929

Summer. Emerald waves tainted the sea with white foam. Warmth. Rest. Vacations. Rain…

… it was Galway, after all, rain was never far away.

Andrew was getting frustrated. He was so excited to go on this vacation with you, you had spent so much time planning, and talking about it, and awaiting this trip…

… and now it was raining. It was cold. You were lost. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Stuck behind some bloody sheep…

Only in Ireland, really… It was fucking August, for God’s sake…

He heard you letting out a long exhale, feeling your frustration creeping through every corner of the car, your negative energy matching his.

He knew you would end up fighting. It didn’t happen often, but every couple fought from time to time. It had never been important, never been anything you couldn’t get passed in a matter of minutes. Your fights had always grown out of frustration over situations, like this one iteration of everything going wrong…

On the back seat, Elwood was growing restless. Andrew could hear its heavy breaths, the noise of his fur moving against the fabric of the seats. Even him was getting annoyed now.

“You should have turned left.”

There it was. Andrew knew you had longed to voice that sharp remark. To be fair, you were right, he was the one who had insisted to turn right at a previous intersection, hence getting the three of you lost.

He was not in the mood to be a reasonable adult and recognising his wrongs though.

“Next time, you’ll drive, so you can take all the bad decisions, and I can do the blaming. You had the map…”

“We have a fucking GPS…”

“Which is not currently working in this godforsaken land…”

“And I told you to turn left, and you didn’t listen!”

“Again, just take the fucking wheel then!”

You exchanged a glare, your eyes sparkling with thunder, before you huffed and looked at the time on your phone.

“We won’t catch the ferry. We should turn back.”

“We can still catch it.”

“It’s leaving in less than half an hour…”

“We can still catch it.”

“Andrew! We have no fucking clue where we are! We’re stuck behind those bloody sheep! We will not make it to the ferry, so let’s just… go back to the house.”

“You’re getting defeated…”

“No, I’m realistic. We’ll never get there on time, and especially not with these bloody sheep!”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?!”

You stared at each other for a moment. And then you did something Andrew had not predicted.

You unfastened your seat belt, opened the car door, and left.

You climbed out of the car, forcefully slammed the door shut. And you started walking across the road, walking ahead without so much as a glance in his direction. You had barely managed a few steps that you were already soaked.

As he stared at you walking under the rain, walking away from the car, walking away from him, all traces of anger left Andrew’s body. Instead, an old fear came back, raging, blurring his world for a second.

You were leaving…

In the span of a handful of seconds, mere seconds, his brain raced to the worst scenario possible. His thoughts stopped being logical and were filled with his worst fear instead.

You were sick of him. You regretted moving in with him. You wanted your ex back all over again. You would have been happier with Frank than with him. You were leaving, dumping his arse, it was over…

God… how could he survive that? You were… you were… he couldn’t…

But then you did turn around.

“ANDREW! HELP ME OUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

He frowned, unable to move.

“ANDY! COME HELP ME OUT!”

That was when he finally realised what you were doing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t walking out of his life. You weren’t breaking up with him, you were…

He saw you moving your arms in the air, calling through the heavy rain towards the scattered sheep, and he finally understood that you were trying to gather them all on the side of the road, towards an open field.

He tried to regulate both his breathing and his heartbeat while he climbed out of the car, securing his coat around his frame to protect himself from the cold rain.

He was panicking over nothing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t leaving. It was fine… he was fine… all fine…

He longed to hurry to you, but his body couldn’t. It was a strange mixture of tiredness, frustration, remnants of anger, and fear. Mostly fear.

He had to stop overthinking everything. You weren’t like that. You loved him, and he knew that, deep down… it was just difficult for him to believe he was that lucky sometimes. He couldn’t help it…

You turned to him as he approached.

“We need to get them out of the way,” you said, your voice still shaking with anger.

You were visibly surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, held you in a fragile embrace. He felt you instantly relaxing, your body growing numb into his arms as you reached up to hold him as well.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you mumbled under your breath, although you were still frustrated.

“I’m sorry too.”

“We should go back.”

“I’m sorry. You were excited about this trip.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It is though.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

You didn’t hesitate a second to say it back, to pick up on one of his pet names again. And he ought to stop overthinking everything, but he couldn’t…

“Let’s go back to the car. You’re soaked, love. You’ll catch your death. Come on,” he prompted you towards the car, and you followed him.

Andrew made a U-turn, drove back to the small cottage-like house you were renting during your two weeks in Galway. The drive back was quiet, but the silence was comfortable and warm again. All traces of frustration seemed to have disappeared from your features by the time you reached the cottage. It had stopped raining too, so you didn’t get even more drenched as you walked from the car to the front door.

You heaved a relieved sigh as you stepped inside the warm house, you wiggled happily as you took off your coat.

“We can try to get to the ferry again tomorrow,” Andrew started, his tone cautious.

You surprised him with a shrug.

“We could. We’ll see.”

“I thought you wanted to…”

“Andy… it’s alright. I don’t care. Don’t overthink this. It’s just an afternoon, it was just an activity. We can stay here today, relax, enjoy each other’s company. I don’t mind if we don’t go see the Arans. I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

Andrew forced his shoulders to relax.

“We can still go later this week.”

You nodded, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

“Although, next time, we’ll turn left,” you quipped, teasing him while gently pinching his side.

He rolled his eyes, but a smile was back on his lips. If you were joking around, it meant that you weren’t mad. Good… that was good…

“You should take a shower, love. You’re freezing,” Andrew spoke in a quiet, warm voice, the one he knew always soothed you. He let his knuckles brush the sharper edge of your cheekbone, hated the coldness of your skin, longed for you to be warm and content again.

You nodded, taking off your jumper and wet jeans as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Actually, I think I’ll take a bath. We can take our time today, relax.”

You turned around, tilted your head a little in a tempting way as you spoke again. Andrew was having a hard time looking at your eyes instead of the length of your naked legs…

“Want to join me?” you smiled.

He gave you a suggestive look.

“In the bath? Or in bed?”

You bit down on your lower lip, and Andrew was gone for good. God, you had him wrapped around your finger… were you aware of the extent of his need for you?

“Hmm… bed first, then a bath? After all, we did fight… Some make-up sex is in order, no?”

He hummed, nodding his head as he walked closer to you. This time he didn’t refrain his urge to let his gaze travel down your legs, marvelling at their perfect curves, his fingers tingling already at the thought of touching them, feeling the softness of your skin, your warmth spread through his palms…

When he stopped, right before you, and looked up at your eyes again, there was something inviting in your gaze. He knew this look very well by now. It was the one that granted silent permission, the one that said I want you too, you can touch me…

His heart swelled at the thought that you were granting him the right to be this close to you now. That you were allowing him, even inviting him, to touch you. To kiss you. To worship your body… and he would. For the coming hour, he planned to do nothing but worship you, in the hopes that you would read in his adoration how much he loved you. How much he cared. How much he needed you.

You were staring right into his eyes as your hands slowly rose to his chest, as you peeled his cardigan off his body. There was so much tension in the air then, electric, as heavy as your stammering breaths, while you slowly unfastened the buttons of his white shirt. One button at a time. At an excruciatingly slow pace…

He let you do it though, do as you pleased with him. He loved it, the way you were setting a pace now. The way you were taking control. There was a quiet tenderness in each of your touches that told him he was safe with you, that you would never do him harm, that he could lay his heart, his body, his life into your hands, and despite that power over him, you wouldn’t destroy him.

He needed to stop overthinking everything…

He helped you slide his shirt off his shoulders, let you rest your palms on his undershirt, one hand on of each of his breasts.

“I love you.”

He grinned at the tender confession.

“I love you too.”

When you reached up to kiss him, it felt like breathing after a lifetime without air, like relief, like being alive…

At last… at fucking last…

This ought to be heaven.

After your pleasurable reconciliation, you opted to take a bath together. An hour spent in pleasure was incredible, but also exhausting, and both of you longed for rest now. Sharing a bath offered the warmth and quiet perfect for your tired bodies, and the intimacy you both craved after sex.

Andrew smiled at the memory.

Incredible sex, actually…

You heaved a content sigh as you readjusted your head against his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His brain was fuzzy with a happy static, the kind he had never experienced before. A strange sense of peace, contentment, happiness… but that felt better than all of that combined. He couldn’t explain it. He felt it only with you, that was for sure…

“Your skin is so soft,” he mused, trailing his fingers across your waist and hip, speaking without thinking.

It felt so soothing to have you in his arms like this. There was something grounding, reassuring, and delightfully vulnerable in lying here with you, naked, sharing a bath and cuddling. You seemed to have a special power, one that made his busy brain grow quiet.

You chuckled at his words, kissed his chest as a reward.

“Yours is soft too,” you nodded, caressing his chest as if to stress your words.

Andrew shifted his legs, unfolding them to prop his feet on the edge of the bathtub, making the water and its bubbles shift with his movements. You had added some scented salts, and he liked it. It was soothing. It felt so nice.

Loving you was so good…

You giggled, making him look at you again.

“God… even this gigantic bathtub is too small for you…”

He laughed then, bright and happy with your teasing. He wiggled his toes for good measure, making you break into laughter once more.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged.

“I love that about you. That you’re really tall.”

“Do you, now?”

You hummed in response.

“It’s sexy.”

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink.

“Oh… so I’m sexy?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

“Of course you are,” was your only answer, offered as if it was obvious.

Sometimes he forgot that you loved him this way. Like it was easy. Like there was nothing more natural in the world. That was how he felt for you; loving you felt as natural as filling his lungs with air, blinking at the bright sun, moving his leg over yours in bed. It was easy. Obvious. Ineffable.

You said that you felt like that, too. If it were a truth, it was a hard one to believe in. He wanted to though, longed for the safety of certainty.

He looked up at the ceiling, let out a long exhale as you nuzzled into his neck again, ran your fingers across his chest in such a soothing way, he almost closed his eyes.

He needed to stop overthinking this. You were here, in his arms, naked, loving him… it ought to be proof enough that you truly wanted him.

This fear he had felt in the car, seeing you walk away, this��� uncontrollable dread that you could leave… He had to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t.

What if you left?

He tried to picture his life without you in it. There would still be Elwood, his parents, his brother, Alex, his friends, his classes, his writing, music, poetry. He could find someone else, eventually. He hated every part of it…

When he pictured you in the same scenarios, everything seemed brighter. His life was better simply because you were in it. He tried to think of his life in a year, in five years, in ten years, in sixty years… Every time the life he wanted had you in it. He couldn’t picture a future that was happy without you being a part of it.

He had never felt like that before. Even with Sam. He had thought he would always love her, and yet, there were bits of his life that he didn’t picture her into. He could imagine living on his own, he could imagine his career, his friends, his family… without Sam in it, and still be content.

Not with you. All these lonesome pictures felt wrong. You were missing…

He thought of his life, the one that awaited him, that laid at his feet, and he didn’t want to live it without you.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your voice was quiet, warm. When he looked down at you again, if there was puzzlement in your gaze, there was infinite tenderness too.

He wanted this to last forever. You. Him. Forever…

He never wanted this to end. And somehow, he just knew then. That the reason why he couldn’t picture a happy life without you, was simply because you were the one for him. You were the love of his life. And his heart would always be yours.

He thought he would be scared by such a realisation, but he wasn’t. He reckoned the feelings had been in his heart for too long, had become a part of him. He was simply putting words on what he felt. You were the love of his life. He was so happy it was you…

He wanted to believe that you felt the same, but he wasn’t sure. It was okay. One day, perhaps, he would be. If he loved you for long enough, if he let you love him fully, perhaps, one day, he would stop being afraid of losing you.

Instead of answering by any of these thoughts, he cupped your cheek, gave you a tender smile.

“Nothing important. I love you, that’s all.”

Andrew was on the porch, you could hear him play the guitar. A soft melody you didn’t know, perhaps it was his own. You encouraged him to write full songs, but he kept on claiming he didn’t really want to. Poetry was enough. Music was enough. The two entities didn’t need to mingle. Sometimes he did play some guitar, hummed a melody to match one of his poems. Which you called ‘writing a song’, but he called it ‘exploring a theme through different media’. You rolled your eyes at him every time.

After the heavy rains of the afternoon, the evening was sunny and surprisingly warm. Outside, the sun was setting, kissing the hills goodbye as it lingered on their tops, flashing its golden hues into the sky before it would grow dark. You walked out with a cup of warm tea in each of your hands, took a moment to watch the beautiful colours in the sky, all golden and orange fading into red. It was quiet, you had rented a small house as an AirBnB in the country side, and there was no one around. Your closest neighbours owned a farm about a kilometre away, the road leading to the cottage was rarely used. You let your eyes travel across the fields, the green of grass, the deeper shades of bushes, the winding lines of stone walls. It was magical, in a way. There was something anchoring to this land, that made you feel like you belonged there.

The soft melody resumed on Andrew’s guitar, you turned to him. Elwood was lying at his feet with his eyes closed, but the movement of his tail told you he wasn’t asleep. Andrew was sitting on a wooden bench, right under the window of the kitchen, his legs stretched before him and taking up the whole width of the porch. His fingers danced on strings, he was humming every now and then. His notebook was by his side, open on a page stained with black ink. It was the notebook you had offered him the previous year, for his birthday. He never went anywhere without it. He seemed so peaceful, a content smile tugging at his lips. His long hair was tight in a messy bun, and he was gorgeous in an old pair of jeans and a blue plaid shirt, his skin and hair bathed in the golden light of the sinking sun. Beyond him, hills rolled, green and gorgeous. Andrew was all you could see.

You remained standing there, motionless, like a fool, staring at your partner with awe written all over your features. It was such a mundane, simple sight. And yet, it struck you then. The depth of your feelings for him, your longing for this never to end, for him never to leave.

It was silly… so silly… to realise that truth just by watching him, in casual clothes, playing mindless melodies on his guitar. And yet, that was the moment when you admitted to yourself that this was the life you wanted. You. Him. Forever. You never wanted this to end.

And God, he told you he loved you daily, showed it even more in a thousand actions and attentions he had for you each day. And yet, a part of you was still afraid he would leave, that you could lose him. What would you do without him?

You hadn’t noticed the music fading, too busy getting lost in the green of his eyes as he turned to you.

“You’re alright, love?” he asked, accent thick on his tongue with the fondness of his words, while he tilted his head.

You shook yourself, walked over to him.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay,” you smiled. “Made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks!”

He accepted the cup you offered, moved his notebook so you could sit by his side. You didn’t mean to pry, you knew Andrew would not want you to read his writing unless he offered to tell you about it, so you looked away from the notebook as soon as you caught the title of his new poem.

That You Are.

“It’s about you,” he explained, noticing your glimpse at the notebook.

“I didn’t read…”

“I know. I trust you.”

You exchanged a smile.

“Are you really writing about me?” you asked, feeling shier now.

He chuckled, kissed your cheek.

“Who else could I write about? You’re my partner…” he answered, bending slightly in search of your gaze.

“I don’t know… your mistress…”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re right, she’s hiding in the trunk of our car.”

“Can she breathe in there?”

“Bottle of oxygen.”

“Clever.”

He shook his head at you while laughing, but when he spoke again he was serious once more.

“It’s not quite finished, you can’t read it for now.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to tell me more about what it’s about?”

He shrugged, blushing.

“It’s about… being in love with you. And… wanting to be where you are all the time.”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

“What about the music?”

“Just…something I’ve been thinking about. To go with the poem.”

“So… you’re writing me a song now? Am I about to be serenaded?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re insufferable,” he mumbled, before shushing your unspoken teasing with a quick kiss.

“I like it when you sing.”

“I know.”

There was something emotional shining in his eyes, but he didn’t speak more about it, and you let him draw the conversation away.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, taking a sip of his warm beverage while he put his guitar away.

He always asked these kinds of questions. At the end of every day he asked about how your classes had been, how was your research, how you were feeling. What had you been doing during the hours you had spent apart? It wasn’t prying, if you didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t insist. He just… genuinely wanted to know how your day had been. And you did the same for him. You remembered a time when you had settled for less than that simple, daily gesture. What an idiot you had been…

“I was just checking the weather for the coming days. It should be sunny on the Arans in a couple of days, so perhaps we could stay on the main land tomorrow. Perhaps a nice trek? It should rain early in the morning, but it’ll clear before noon.”

Andrew nodded, sipping on his tea, readjusting his glasses. At his feet, Elwood was now napping for good.

“We can drive to the national park, it isn’t far from here” he offered, looking at your phone as you showed him a page that referenced some paths across the wilderness of Connemara.

“Yeah, I thought we could walk around a lough.”

You studied the maps for a while, decided which path you would take the next day. Once the plans for your little adventure were sorted, Andrew gave you a mischievous smile, turning around and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bench. You fondly smiled as he moved to rest his head on your laps. His knees were bent over the edge of the bench, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I?” you asked in a quiet, tender voice as you lightly tugged on his hairband. He merely lifted his head a little as a response, so you could free his long curls, letting the chestnut strands cover your laps.

You took off his glasses too, secured them by your side. He let his eyes close with a relieved sigh as you ran your hands through his hair. You felt his body relax, the tension in his muscles disappear under your soft touch.

“This is so nice,” he hummed.

“It is,” you nodded, softly scratching his scalp, and he let out a long breath in response.

“I know that we had to wait until August to leave for our anniversary, instead of celebrating properly at the right date… but it was worth the wait!”

“We did celebrate on the date, though.”

“Yeah… but this is the actual celebration. Like… the real gift.”

“Hmm… yeah, you’re right. And I agree, it was worth the wait.”

“We outdid ourselves with this trip.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“It feels so nice to be just the two of us. To not have to worry about the usual, daily problems for a while.”

“Yeah… I reckon we both needed this.”

He took one of your hands in his. While you kept on running your fingers through his hair, he brought your other hand to his mouth, pressed it to his lips for a long kiss, intertwining your fingers together. He brought it to rest on his sternum next, stroking your knuckles.

You wanted to tell him, then. That he was the one. That he was the love of your life. That you never wanted him to leave…

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have neither the courage nor the strength. It had been a year, it was too soon. You knew, but he probably didn’t. Why scare him off when you could stay quiet and stare at his handsome features while the day ended and a new night was born out of the sun’s absence? It was safer this way…

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right?” he asked in a whisper, and you noticed by how his voice had quietened that he was beginning to drift off to sleep.

You offered a tender smile he couldn’t see.

“I love you too, Andy. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and a moment later, his lips were parting, and he was asleep, your hand still in his, resting on his chest, and his head on your lap. You kept on looking at him, admired his peaceful expression as he slept, every detail of his face, making sure to commit each of them to memory. You didn’t pay much attention to the dying sunset, despite the colours it shone onto the world. Only when it was getting too dark for you to see Andrew’s features did you notice the passage of time. But then again, he was beautiful like this, and his hair was so soft, and the weight of his head on your lap was reassuring, grounding…

Five more minutes…

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

How about a little of fluffy, huh?

Enjoy it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: you find out about your version and Wanda in another universe.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

SIGHTS

As you walked back to the camp, water droplets slid down your skin, the night breeze bringing a slight shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Your mind was in turmoil, recalling Wanda's little show by the lake. The trees seemed quieter, as if even nature was trying to absorb what had just happened.

"Did you really have to do that in front of everyone?" you asked, breaking the silence, but your voice came out hesitant, almost shy.

Wanda glanced at you sideways, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "And what exactly did I do?"

"Oh, come on, Wanda," you said, exasperated. "Lifting that guy into the air, threatening to erase them all from the multiverse? That’s not exactly... educational."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. “What are you talking about? I was perfectly reasonable, if you want to know,” she said, her tone bordering on cynical, as if her threat to erase people from existence was something ordinary and completely justifiable.

"Reasonable?!" you repeated, your voice a bit louder than you intended. "You almost gave the poor guy a heart attack! He’ll never look at a campfire again without remembering you."

Wanda stopped walking, turning to face you with an expression that was both amused and exasperated. "He should be grateful," she retorted, as if explaining something obvious. "If I wanted to, he wouldn’t even remember what a campfire is."

"Oh my god! You’re impossible!" You crossed your arms, trying to look firm, but the way she was looking at you— that mix of unwavering authority and irresistible charm—made your heart race. "You know that’s not the point, right?"

She took a step closer, tilting her head slightly. "And what’s the point, then, dorogaya? That I should have let that bunch of filthy teenagers disrespecting nature go unpunished? I have principles, sweetheart! And none of them can see you like this except for me."

"I’m not talking about me," you replied, but your tone lost strength at the end of the sentence, because deep down, you knew there was something comforting—and, in a way, exciting—about the fact that she had defended you so fiercely.

"Oh, but I am," Wanda murmured, the intensity in her eyes making you feel as though the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. "No one will desire you in my presence. No one will even dare to think about you, and read my lips when I say, darling: I will know what they’re thinking. I always do."

You exhaled heavily, but tried to hide your smile at your witch’s over-the-top monologue. "Wanda… please."

Wanda turned to you, crossing her arms as she tilted her head. "Are you... worried about them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but she just made a hand gesture.

"Happy?" she asked casually, beginning to walk again as if nothing had happened.

You furrowed your brow, quickening your pace to catch up with her. "What do you mean? What did you do?"

Without even looking at you, Wanda gave a small, satisfied smile. "They’ve forgotten everything, dorogaya."

Your eyes widened. "What do you mean 'forgotten everything'? Did you mess with their minds?"

She shrugged, fingers playing with a strand of her own hair. "Just enough to make sure no one will remember my ‘little show,’ as you call it."

You stared at her, a mixture of fascination and unease growing inside you. "You can do that? Alter memories?"

"I can do many things," Wanda replied, finally stopping and turning to face you. She seemed slightly amused, as if relishing your curiosity.

"Like what?" you asked, unable to contain the question.

Wanda leaned slightly toward you, her eyes shining with that characteristic mix of mystery and power. "Ah, milaya moya," she murmured, her voice low and enticing. "If I told you everything I can do, you wouldn’t sleep for weeks."

A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Is that a promise or a warning?"

"Both," she replied, laughing softly before continuing to walk.

Unable to resist, you hurried to walk beside her. "You really are something, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda stopped abruptly, making you almost stumble in your hurry to keep up with her. She turned to face you, an expression that wavered between surprise and amusement. "Something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow as a smile danced on her lips.

"Yes, something," you reaffirmed, crossing your arms with an unexpected touch of boldness. "A force of nature, maybe. Or maybe a goddess with a heroine complex. But definitely something."

Wanda’s eyes sparkled, and you realized there was something more there. It wasn’t just amusement. It was admiration. Fascination. As if she was seeing something in you that intrigued her as much as you were intrigued by her.

"You’re bold," Wanda said, her voice soft but tinged with provocation. "Do you know what happens to people who challenge a goddess?"

"I have no idea," you replied, shrugging. "Maybe you should show me."

Wanda tilted her head, a dangerous yet charming smile forming. "You really want to know what I’m capable of, don’t you?"

"I do," you replied, firm, though your heart was pounding like a drum. "I want to know what makes you the woman you are. I want to see everything you can do. Because, if I’m going to be by your side, I need to understand... you."

For a moment, Wanda was silent, just watching you. Then, she stepped forward, closing the gap between you. Her fingers lifted to trace a slow path along your face, as if deciding how far she would take you on this journey.

"You have no idea what you’re asking for, dorogaya," she murmured, her voice like honey dripping. "My power isn’t just strength or control. It’s chaos. It’s destruction. It’s everything you fear and desire at the same time."

"Then show me," you insisted, your voice almost inaudible, but filled with determination. "If that’s what you are, I want to see it. All of it."

Wanda smiled, but this time, there was something deeper there—maybe a touch of respect. "You’re brave. So brave, lyubimaya. But be careful what you wish for."

She extended her hand to you, her eyes glowing with a deep red intensity. "Come with me. And I’ll show you what I’m made of."

You hesitated for a second, but just enough for Wanda to intertwine her fingers with yours, pulling you with her. "Hold on," she said, her lips curling into a smile that was as terrifying as it was beautiful. "You asked for this."

And then, with an almost imperceptible snap, the world around you began to change.

Wanda guided you with a firm yet strange touch through the veil between worlds. Reality around you unraveled in a tangle of colors and shapes, as if every line that composed the fabric of the universe was being unfolded before you. The air seemed to vibrate, charged with something incomprehensible—a raw, terrifying power.

"Welcome to the Multiverse, dorogaya," Wanda said, her voice soft as a whisper, but filled with an authority that made you shiver. "Get ready, because there’s no turning back."

Before you could respond, the first vision took shape.

The room seemed like it was from a dream. White, smooth, and flawless walls reflected the soft light streaming through large windows. Outside, there was a perfect garden, with well-manicured lawns and flowers of all colors. The house was a reflection of what Wanda seemed to believe was an ideal life: simple, cozy, and full of love.

Wanda was barefoot, wearing a light red dress that swayed with her movement. Her hair was loose, and she appeared... ordinary, but in an almost supernatural way. In her arms, a chubby, smiling baby played with strands of her hair as she looked at him with a tenderness so intense it almost broke your heart.

Vision stood beside her, smiling in a way you didn’t think possible for someone made of vibranium. He looked so human there, so... present. With one hand, he caressed Wanda’s face, and with the other, he held a small music box that played a soft melody in the background.

“This was my utopia,” Wanda began, without looking directly at you. Her eyes were fixed on the scene, as if she were immersed in the memory. “A perfect creation for a perfect life. A home where I could have everything the real world denied me.”

You realized the setting seemed like a reflection of an ideal from the 1950s or 60s — a perfect suburban life, almost like a magazine advertisement. Yet, the longer you looked, the more artificial everything seemed. The flowers in the garden had no scent. The sunlight didn’t warm. And suddenly, you realized there were no sounds from the outside.

“It was an illusion, of course,” Wanda continued, with a hint of melancholy. “But for a while... I wanted to believe it was real. I needed to believe. I did this for Vision. For myself. For my children.”

The scene abruptly changed. Now, the same room was dark, almost in ruins. The baby in Wanda’s arms had vanished. Vision was lying on the floor, lifeless, with a hole in his chest where the Mind Stone should have been. Wanda was kneeling, her hands stained with blood, her eyes fixed on the void.

“That’s when I realized,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “None of this was mine. I was living a lie. And the truth... the truth was more cruel than any illusion I could create.”

You wanted to say something, but the words felt stuck in your throat. Everything around you screamed of pain, loss, and despair.

“I tried so hard,” Wanda whispered, more to herself than to you. “I tried to be good, I tried to be strong. But the more I lost, the more I became... this.”

You glanced at the woman, seeing tears held back in her large green eyes. Why doesn’t Wanda cry? Why does she keep everything to herself? These are questions you would like to understand and deconstruct with every reason she gives you.

This version of Wanda was a whirlwind of emotions, chaos personified. You saw her in different moments, different worlds, all versions converging on the same point: Vision. He was the center of her universe, and Wanda did the impossible to bring him back — to recreate the love she believed was her only anchor.

In the first scene, she was kneeling in a cold, metallic room, holding Vision’s lifeless body. It was a version of him without glow, without movement. The pale light reflected on her face, bathed in tears that flowed uncontrollably. Wanda murmured softly, almost inaudible, like a desperate prayer: "Please, come back to me. Please..."

You could feel the urgency in her voice, the kind of desperation that defies reason. She tried using her magic, her hands trembling as a scarlet glow surrounded Vision’s body. But it was futile. He wouldn’t return.

"I refused to accept death," Wanda explained, her voice low, as if confessing a terrible secret. "I thought I could deceive fate. That, if I wanted it enough, I could bring him back."

The scene abruptly shifted, and now you saw her in another world, facing a legion of colossal beings, each one more threatening than the last. They seemed to be guarding something — maybe an artifact or a secret she wanted. Wanda was at the center of the battle, her powers turning the ground into lava, the sky into darkness.

"I destroyed entire worlds," she continued, her eyes fixed on the scene. "I fought against those who tried to stop me, against those who said I was wrong. I didn’t care. I would do anything to bring him back."

You saw another Wanda, this time creating an entire world. She stood with her arms raised as houses rose from the ground, people took form out of nowhere, and a perfect blue sky stretched above everyone. At the center of this world was Vision, smiling, alive, as if nothing had happened.

"I created entire realities," Wanda said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "But none of them were real. He... wasn’t real."

The last scene was the most devastating. Wanda was alone, watching a version of Vision disappear before her eyes. He touched her face one last time before fading into dust, and she remained motionless, as if there was no more strength left in her to react.

"For so long," Wanda said, her eyes filled with a pain that seemed endless, "I thought love was sacrifice. That everything worth having had to be earned with pain. But I was wrong."

She turned to you, the intensity in her eyes as crushing as everything you had just witnessed. "Love shouldn’t be this, right? It shouldn’t be pain, or loss, or despair. But it was all I knew."

You felt your heart tighten. You wanted to touch her, comfort her, but it seemed too small in comparison to everything she had faced.

"You showed me something different," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Something I never thought I deserved. You showed me that love can be... healing."

This time, the air was thick with tension as you entered that ruined house, used as a temporary refuge by Wanda Maximoff. The walls were cracked, and the smell of dust mixed with something else: magic, raw and pulsing, like a storm about to explode. The organization that had sent you knew she was dangerous, but you weren’t there as an agent or a heroine. You were there as a social worker, someone who had worked with people who had lost everything — and Wanda Maximoff was exactly that.

She was sitting in the darkest corner of the room, her eyes glowing with an unsettling scarlet hue. There was no apparent pain or mourning on her face; just a dangerous emptiness, the kind that swallows worlds.

"Leave," was the first thing she said, not even looking at you directly.

You didn’t leave.

"I just want to talk," you said, keeping your voice calm, even though your heart was pounding like a drum. "Nothing more."

Wanda laughed — a dry, bitter laugh, without joy. "Talk? Is that what they call interrogation now?" She finally raised her eyes to meet yours, and the weight of her gaze was almost physical. "I don’t need your pity."

"It’s not pity," you replied, not backing down. "It’s... concern."

Suddenly, the air around her shifted. It was as if an invisible hand was trying to grab you, crush you. Wanda raised her hand, and you saw the scarlet threads of her magic dance around her like serpents ready to strike.

"Do you think you can help me?" she whispered, her voice laced with sarcasm and something deeper: pain. "Do you think you can come in here and fix everything with your sweet words? I could end you before you even finish that sentence."

But she couldn’t.

The magic around her shattered like glass, vanishing into the air before it could touch you. Wanda’s expression transformed into something you would never forget: surprise. She tried again, raising both hands, muttering words in an ancient tongue, but nothing happened.

"Who are you?" she asked, standing slowly, her eyes fixed on you like a predator finding something unusual.

"My name is Y/n. I’m a social worker." You took a deep breath, trying to seem calmer than you felt. "And I think you need help."

"You idiot! Who sent you? Are you a witch? How do you know how to manipulate my magic?" she shot angrily.

Your hands were sweating, and you felt a strong urge to rush to the bathroom — but something completely insane inside you told you that you needed to stay.

You took a hesitant step forward, keeping your hands visible at your sides. It was like facing a wild animal, where every movement needed to be calculated.

"I’m not a witch, and no one sent me," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I’m just a social worker. And I’m here because you’re hurt."

Wanda laughed, but it was an empty, bitter sound. "Hurt?" she repeated, taking a step toward you. "You think you can help me? I’m the Scarlet Witch. I don’t need help from anyone, especially not from a... social worker."

"Maybe you don’t need it," you replied, trying to ignore the heat at the back of your neck and the trembling in your legs. "But maybe you want it."

Her face hardened, and for a moment, you thought you had made a fatal mistake. But then something changed. Her eyes lost some of their intensity, as if your words had touched a part of Wanda she was desperately trying to hide.

"Why aren’t you afraid of me?" she asked, tilting her head. "Everyone is. I can feel fear in people. But in you... there’s nothing."

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "Maybe it’s because I see beyond that," you said, taking another step. "I see someone who is hurt, who’s lost so much, but who is still here. Still fighting."

"You don’t know anything about me," she murmured, but her voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

"Then tell me," you responded softly. "Let me get to know you, Wanda."

There was a long silence. She watched you as if trying to decide whether you were real or just another broken piece in her world. Finally, Wanda sighed and turned her back, crossing her arms.

"You’re stubborn," she said, not looking at you.

"I hear that often," you replied, trying not to smile.

She chuckled softly, but it wasn’t a cruel sound this time. When she finally turned to you, there was something different in her eyes. Something more human, more vulnerable.

"If you’re going to stay, then stay. But don’t expect me to trust you anytime soon," she said, pointing to a worn-out sofa in the corner of the room.

"I don’t expect," you replied, carefully sitting down. "So, you can’t kill me with your red power balls, nor read my mind. What’s that supposed to mean?"

Wanda let out a disbelieving laugh, actually incredulous. Red power balls? She thought with a roll of her eyes.

"I don’t know." It was a low murmur.

"Maybe a sign that you should give me a chance…" You said with your shoulders shrugged and a sheepish smile on the corner of your lips.

Wanda could never have imagined that you would keep coming back, again, and again, and again — in fact, neither could you. A not-so-friendly conversation and death threats turned into a tea afternoon where Wanda told you about life in the Avengers before everything; then a lunch on the beach where you told her about how you almost drowned when you were 9 — that day, you saw the most genuine smile she could give you given her current conditions, and you felt your heart beat differently for the redhead. Then a dinner at your place — where you learned to make paprikash just to see her smile and complain that the dish lacked pepper — with wine, where Wanda cried missing her boys, and you were officially classified by her as: "the best shoulder I’ve ever cried on, and believe me, I never cry."

Wanda hadn’t realized how important your presence had become in her life, not until you needed to travel for an important case. She missed you, and that confused her. After all, how could a visit so unpleasant and peculiar make her want... for it to be daily? That you would visit her every day and bring the cinnamon rolls from that bakery on your street that she loved so much. That you would learn more Sokovian recipes just to make her smile.

Then the kiss happened in one of those moments of silence, when words were no longer necessary. You were sitting next to her, watching the sunset through the broken window of the house she called her temporary home. The sky was tinged with shades of orange and red, as if the universe itself was painting a canvas just for the two of you.

Wanda seemed calmer that day. Her shoulders weren’t as tense, and the eyes that always seemed to hold storms had a soft, almost peaceful glow. She suddenly looked at you, and there was something in her expression that made the air feel thicker.

"Why do you stay?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

"Because I want to," you replied, without hesitation.

She tilted her head, as if trying to understand something that didn't make sense to her. "You're strange," she murmured, but there was a small, almost imperceptible smile on her lips.

"I prefer 'unique,'" you responded, teasing, though your voice trembled a little.

Then, before you could say anything more, she leaned toward you. It was a hesitant movement, as if testing the waters, but when her lips finally met yours, everything else disappeared.

The kiss was everything both of you had imagined it would be — and more. It was soft, but filled with emotion, as if Wanda was pouring everything she couldn't say in words into that moment. You felt her hand move to your face, her fingers tracing your jawline with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of the kiss.

When you pulled away, she looked at you with something new in her eyes: hope. "You're not like anyone I've ever met," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Neither are you," you replied, smiling.

Months later, after your wedding in the Russian summer, when Wanda told you she was pregnant, the smile on her face was so wide it seemed to light up the entire room. You were sitting on the couch of your new home, a place you had chosen together, far from the chaos and painful memories of the past.

"I can hardly believe it," she said, placing her hands on her still-flat belly, but with eyes shining with genuine happiness. "After everything... after everything that happened, I never thought I would have this."

You held her hand, squeezing it gently. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Wanda. And these babies already have the best mother they could ask for."

The following months were a mix of nerves and joy. You had never seen Wanda so happy. She decorated the twins' room with soft colors, but couldn't resist using a bit of magic to create constellations shining on the ceiling.

"I want them to grow up knowing that the entire universe is within their reach," she explained, smiling at you as she adjusted the details with a wave of her hand.

The day Tommy and Billy were born, Wanda cried. Tears of genuine happiness, as she held the two little ones in her arms. You were beside her, holding her hand, unable to hold back your own tears.

"I never thought I could be this happy," she whispered, looking at you.

"You deserve this, my love," you replied, kissing her forehead.

Exactly seven years later, when Wanda and you were waiting for the pregnancy test to be ready, this time for Seline, Wanda could hardly believe it. It was as if the universe was finally giving back to her everything it had taken before.

Wanda looked at you that day with the same gaze she had in your first kiss — full of love and hope. "You gave me this," she said, placing her hand on your belly, moved by feeling the baby's heartbeat against your skin. "You gave me everything I thought I could never have."

You laughed, wiping away a tear that escaped. "That's not how it works, Wanda. We did this together."

During Seline's pregnancy, Wanda seemed even more radiant than before. She spent hours reading storybooks to the twins, and often you would wake up in the night to find her caressing your belly, softly murmuring in Sokovian.

When Seline was born, you knew your family was complete.

"She's so perfect," Wanda said, with a soft smile as she held the little one in her arms.

"She has your eyes," you replied, feeling a wave of love flood your chest.

And in that moment, as you looked at Wanda and the three children you had brought into the world together, you knew that everything you had been through — all the pain, all the sacrifice — had been worth it.

The path back to the camp seemed almost irrelevant in the face of the intensity that was growing between you. Each step you took on the trail was an extension of what you had shared in that intimate moment, when Wanda had opened a piece of her soul to you. The words she had spoken echoed in your mind, but it wasn’t the words that mattered at that moment — it was the feeling.

You felt a mix of adoration and a deep desire for her, and Wanda seemed to understand this as clearly as you did. But there was something more, an urgency in both of you, as if fate had brought you together once again for another dance, this time with immeasurable depth.

"You asked me to show what I’m capable of," Wanda said, breaking the silence between you. Her voice was soft, but there was something threatening in the way she spoke, something that could only come from a woman who knew the power she possessed, yet remained vulnerable. "Do you still want to love me after all of this?"

She turned her face to you, and her eyes were shining with a mixture of insecurity and provocation. The silence between you seemed to carry centuries of repressed desire, of lost and found loves, as if you both were made for this moment, but had lived countless lives and universes before finally being here, together.

You didn’t hesitate. Your hands rose to Wanda’s face, touching her gently, as if you feared she might disappear at any moment. But she didn’t disappear. She was there. And you, without words, simply looked into her eyes, trying to convey all the love and certainty you felt.

"I want to love you because of all of this," you said, your voice firm, but heavy with something more — a promise, an oath made with heart and soul.

When your eyes met, the distance between you vanished, as if the entire universe had been reduced to this single moment. Time stopped. And deep down, you felt something like the touch of past lives, as if you had been there with her, in some other place, in some other time. Something that transcended everything that had happened, all the struggles, all the deaths and rebirths.

She leaned in slowly, and her lips touched yours with an unexpected softness, as if testing the moment, measuring the intensity of her own desire. But soon, the softness turned into urgency, as if, finally,

Wanda knew there was no turning back. And you, with your heart racing, matched every movement of hers, with the same intensity, with the same hunger. It was as if everything around you had disappeared, and there were only the two of you. No universe, no past, no pain.

The kiss was like a river flowing between mountains, gentle and impetuous at the same time. When Wanda’s lips touched yours, there was no more space for anything — no fear, no doubt, just the need to be consumed by her, to surrender to what fate had already drawn. It was as if everything had been a preparation for that moment. Your souls recognized each other immediately, as if they had known each other since the beginning of time, as if they had met in all past lives, in all universes, in all reincarnations. The feeling of something eternal, something that couldn’t be broken, settled between you.

It was a soft touch at first, a silent exploration, but soon the need for more became apparent. Wanda’s tongue slid against yours, and the tension between you dissolved in the intensity of that contact. It was more than passion; it was a union of everything you had been and everything you would still be. The kiss became more urgent, as if, by touching, you were rediscovering each other, merging. The world around you disappeared, the sound of the rain, the shadows of the night — everything became secondary. There was only the heat of bodies, the exchange of breaths, and the silent magic dancing in the air, reflecting the indescribable connection between you.

Wanda slowly pulled away, as if reluctant to leave that moment. Her eyes were darker now, but there was something deeply different in them. Something deeper than any expression you had ever seen in her before. Something immense, an ocean of feelings overflowing without words. And you knew. You knew that, in that look, she was giving you her soul, all the pain, all the love, all the hope.

She touched your face with trembling hands, as if wanting to engrave the outline of your being into her memory, as if she needed you desperately, as if her happiness now depended on you. Her voice was hoarse, broken, but filled with a sincerity so pure it seemed to tear her very heart apart.

"You are everything I need," Wanda murmured, almost like a plea, like a truth she was finally accepting. The desperation was there, in her eyes, in the tone of her voice. "I never knew what it really meant to live until now... until you."

Those words settled in your chest with the force of a silent scream. And then, without needing to respond, you moved closer to her, your bodies fitting together as if they had always been meant to do so. It was as if, by being together, the entire universe became lighter, clearer.

And in the touch, in the exchange of heat, you knew. You knew that she was desperate to be saved, to be happy, to find a home. It wasn’t just about the love you shared, but everything she wanted to build — a life, a family, a future. That kiss was not just passion: it was a promise. A promise that, together, you could create something that would resist time and fate.

When she pulled her face away slightly, breathing heavily, you saw the vulnerability in her eyes, the fragility of someone carrying the weight of an entire world on their shoulders. But you also saw something more — a renewed strength, a confidence. Because, even with the pain she carried, she knew you were there, by her side, for whatever came.

And you whispered back, with a soft but firm voice, so Wanda would know what you felt, without doubt, without hesitation. "I’m here, Wanda. Forever. And we will build all of this together. As many times as it takes."

She smiled, a smile mixed with tears and hope, as if, at that moment, the world was finally a place worth conquering. You knew their future would be unpredictable, but you also knew, with an almost palpable certainty, that they had found each other for the last time. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

The kiss that followed was gentler, but no less intense. It was as if, in that moment, you were building a new beginning. The future, uncertain and challenging, seemed promising, because by her side, Wanda had everything she had always needed: you. And by your side, you had everything you had always wanted: her.

And so, in the silence of the night, with the rain tapping on the windows and the distant echoes of the camp, you and Wanda surrendered to this truth. A truth stronger than any magic, stronger than any fate. Because what you shared was eternal, and nothing, no one, could destroy it. The connection between you was stronger than anything that could be said. Stronger than any magic, stronger than any destiny. It was something intangible, yet as real as the air you breathed. Something eternal, that would withstand any battle, any pain.

And so, in the silence of the night, between the distant echoes of the camp and the touch of your bodies still tingling from the intensity of the kiss, you both knew that nothing else mattered. Because, in the end, you were together.

~*~

Oh. I need her.

Tag list <3

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[slaaverin]

I'm in my bed crying over jikook again.

The thing is, I don't even have the proper words to express what I'm feeling.

It's all so..God I don't know. Improbable? Crazy? It's crazy.

You have two humans that have the most pure souls, with impossible high-stakes lives, that somehow found each other and also found the most beautiful love I have ever witnessed in my 32 years of life.

The probability of this happening is almost zero. It shows there are really bigger and smarter things than little us at play in life.

They went through so much, and so much more than any of us will ever be able to imagine, yet they remained pure at heart, with their love growing ever stronger and more potent by the day.

They let us in on everything, and showed us the true depth of their feelings openly (but even so, it's written all over their faces).

They simply care, a lot. The little things, the trips, the quiet moments, all of it, they really do care. It's not for show. It's real.

It's like we're getting a glimpse of something that doesn't belong to us at all. Yet, they are generous enough to let us experience it vicariously through them. Isn't it an act of love on their part? They don't have to do it. It's not even smart or safe or reasonable for them to do it. But they do anyway. Maybe because they wouldn't be able to help it, even if they wanted to?

How weird it is that our love for them is that strong? We've never even met them. Yet we feel for them something more unconditional than what we feel for some people we've actually met. How strange, don't you think? So we cheer on and support and we feel it all. We care too.

And I can't explain how witnessing jikook's love has been wonderful, how it has filled my heart with an immense amount of joy and reverence and beauty. It is a mystery.

Somehow I feel it's not even about them, even if it is, obviously so. It's simply that love. Isn't something most of us miss? Long, crave for? Wish for everybody.

If all the people would be in love like Jimin & Jungkook are, there would be no wars in the world anymore. It would be completely different.

The lack of love produces incredible darkness, and it's only love that can fix everything.

So I think that's why I cherish their love so much. It is so very precious, so very important, in ways they might not even understand. The fact they have such an audience being exposed to their love, feeling all the feelings, it helps the world heal a tiny little.

It's not a small thing. It matters.

If we can all fill our little corner of the universe with that type of love, we would've won all the battles, done what we came here for, and call it a day.

They've gifted us the incredible gift of are you sure, where their love was quiet and peaceful and certain. They've given us the gcf. And Letter. And then there was Rosebowl, and MMA, and Black Swan. A thousand moments. Again and again they've showed us.

Now they are enlisted together, and I think that there's nothing more to add. Nothing to prove. Nothing to show. It is self-evident and we can only smile and be happy for them.

What an incredible journey it has been, full of laughs, of crying. So many tears (of joy).

When they will come out of military, we can say that a chapter of their life will close, and another one will open. Hopefully a even happier one than the one before.

So yeah I've decided to make a rather big edit about it, this first chapter, those 10 years of love.

(And you're not ready with some of the music I chose, it makes you feel ALL THE THINGS, prepare tissues)

Sorry for this post that is going nowhere.

Sometimes I simply need to scream my love for jikook. They truly deserve it.

Aren't they wonderful? Yes. Yes.

Take care lovely jikookers 💜

[cosmic-glow]

Can't You See The Connection?

Notes: Just a cute intrusive thought I decided to write, but I hope you like it!

Warnings: SFW!! Thanos x GN!Reader; Reader is not Asian, but country of origin not specified! ; No use of "Y/n" ; Reader paints nails ; Soft ; Cute ; Violence mentioned in the series.

You were still having to absorb your current situation. Stuck in a place you have no idea where it is, having to play children's games to survive, surrounded by people you've never seen in your life… all because of a debt. What a load of shit.

For your own benefit, you've always been more of an observer than a talker. So you managed to read some of the players just by watching what they did. Without having to talk to anyone, you discovered that player 333 almost got punched for manipulating his followers into investing in cryptocurrencies (which led to them losing everything); player 456 had played the games before and won; player 230 was a rapper and players 149 and 007 were mother and son.

It wasn't much, but it was something to know who to avoid and who could be useful.

After the first game, the dormitory no longer seemed so full. Not just because of the people who died, but because most of the players were still in shock, the only ones who spoke were those gathered in small groups. You were sitting on your bunk, minding your own business and totally ignoring the brief glances that landed on you.

As a foreigner, you were more than used to your simply different appearance attracting attention. The problem was when they made hostile comments, but as long as they weren't directly said to you, you could ignore them. These damn games were just beginning, it wasn't a good time to get into trouble and be tarnished in the eyes of others if you needed a group in the future.

Because you were ignoring all the stares, you didn't even notice the one that was most persistent on you. Since the end of the first game, Thanos hasn't been able to take his eyes off you. Not only because your appearance stood out, but because when the game was over and everyone was pale with horror after seeing people die because of a stupid game, you were standing just catching your breath. Not seeming at all affected by what just happened, by what you just saw. And that made him curious even though he was a little high at the moment.

Thanos was sitting with player 124, Nam-Gyu. His eyes still on you with curiosity. He analyzed every detail of you that was different from what he was used to. The shape of your eyes, the tone of your skin, the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips… everything was captivating to him.

But something caught his attention as soon as his eyes noticed it. It made him jump as he stood up and walked over to you without even responding to Nam-Gyu's call. You insisted on keeping your gaze down even when he stopped next to your bunk, thinking that it could be some random player wanting to get into trouble for some reason, wanting to avoid that for at least one more day.

- Hey, your nails! They're just like mine.

The soft but excited voice said and then the man stretched his hand in front of your eyes so you could see. In fact, the man painted each nail a color just like you, even if it wasn't the same colors as yours. When you looked up to see who it was, you were met with the smug smile of Thanos, who was waiting for your answer. You really thought about giving a short and cold answer to cut him off and thus get him away from you. He was very noisy and had already started a fight early on, he was the type of player you should avoid. But honestly? He was the only one so far who didn't look at you as if you were an alien, so at the last second you decided to give him a brief smile before answering:

- It's true. Are you copying me by chance?

You said with sarcasm and a slightly friendly tone. And God… it was just a half smile, but Thanos was sure his heart wasn't beating faster because of the drug. He smiled wider as he absorbed the sarcasm and withdrew his hand, putting both in his pockets.

- More likely the opposite. There's no need to be embarrassed if you're a fan of mine.

- Fan of yours? - You raised an eyebrow - Why would I be a fan of yours? I don't even know you.

- Don't know me? I am the legendary rapper Thanos! Come on, you must have heard me somewhere.

- No, no idea.

If Thanos was upset that you didn't know him, he hid it well by just shaking his head, still smiling and letting out a sigh.

- Guess I should introduce myself then, huh?

And without waiting for your answer, Thanos began to improvise a rap introducing himself and talking about how great he was. In a kind of pathetic way, on purpose to make you laugh. He would soon discover that he was becoming addicted to your smile as if it were a new kind of drug, even if you hated yourself a little every time it happened. But you couldn't help it, his rap was so cocky and pathetic that, for a brief moment, you forgot that you were trapped in this place at the risk of your life. You relaxed and just laughed, feeling the brief lightness that the sensation brought.

When he finished, you said your name accompanied by "I'm just…" in front to contradict the cocky way he introduced himself. Thanos smiled and said it was a pleasure to meet you, repeating the "just" in front when saying your name.

He extended his right hand to greet you, you looked at the gesture for a second before shaking his hand with yours. Your colorful nails matched in a way and he liked that, it was as if there was already a kind of bond between you, something that connected you.

- Come to my group. Nam-Gyu is a bit annoying sometimes, but you can tell him to shut up if you want.

You found it funny how he said the phrase in the most banal tone possible, as if he were referring to some kind of pet and not another player, but you accepted the offer and went with him to the other side of the dormitory where the boy was waiting for Thanos in the same place he left him.

As the drug wore off, Thanos noticed more how much he liked your accent, your smile, your voice, the way you sometimes gestured with your hands… it was as if it was simply difficult not to look at you.

And in that moment of sobriety he knew he would do everything he could to make sure you survived the games with him.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist;

Drabbles Game

[oddyseye]

Dissecting every reason people call Eurylochus a hypocrite because I am sick and tired of defending this poor hungry man.

Eurylochus is not the easy villain or the perfect saint. He is the walking contradiction of the Odyssey and EPIC, and anyone who just calls him a hypocrite without understanding the nuances of his motivations really isn’t paying attention to the full picture. Let’s start with the infamous wind bag fiasco, which happens early enough for Eurylochus to show us his conflict. Yes, he doubts Odysseus’ judgment when it comes to the Wind God’s island, warning him about the risks. And let’s be real, Eurylochus is absolutely right. If you look at the situation, Odysseus is acting impulsively, relying on his wits and bravado, thinking he can control the outcome with the power of his charm. But this? It’s a god’s realm. The gods don’t work on your timetable. At this point, what does Odysseus’ confidence even mean? Eurylochus sees it as reckless, and I agree. Yes, Eurylochus is a bit wary of everything at this point (which might be annoying if you’re Odysseus), but it’s a valid concern. And Odysseus’ reply? It's a bit patronizing. He doesn’t respect Eurylochus’ caution. Instead of listening to his crew member, his second-in-command, Odysseus tells him to stand down and demands blind loyalty. Of course, this sets the stage for Eurylochus’ next crucial transformation. He’s now seen Odysseus as someone who doesn’t care about the real risks or the crew. People LOVE to bring up that line where Eurylochus says he opened the wind bag. Okay, okay, he messed up. But here’s the thing: he knows he messed up, and he admits it. In front of everyone. He’s not hiding it. He’s not making excuses. He’s owning up to it. And people still want to call him a hypocrite? He wasn’t the one who set the trap for the entire crew by opening that wind bag. Odysseus gave some instructions, but he knew the crew was starving and desperate. And then, on top of that, you have the winions stirring the pot, telling everyone there’s treasure in the bag? What did he think would happen? The crew wasn’t exactly in the best headspace to be taking orders from a guy who was clearly not as present as he should have been. You can’t put all the blame on Eurylochus when Odysseus didn’t exactly set them up for success. Everyone was already in a fragile place after the war, and Odysseus should have known better than to leave room for temptation. He was the leader; he should’ve anticipated how bad the temptation would be. Eurylochus gets a little too much flak for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. There’s enough blame to go around for everyone, not just one guy. All of the crew wanted to open the bag, Eurylochus was just the one who did. He represents the voice of the crew. His biggest focus becomes apparent in the Circe Saga, specifically during Puppeteer, when Eurylochus is forced into a brutal choice on Circe’s island. After the men are turned into pigs, Eurylochus has to come to terms with his decision. He’s a pragmatist. He doesn’t trust the island, doesn’t want to gamble their lives on a witch’s promises. So, when Odysseus sends him and the crew to investigate, Eurylochus doesn’t just go along for the ride, he stays behind and urges Odysseus to get out of there. But let’s remember, this moment is a turning point for Eurylochus. He’s scared, yes, but also rational. He was the one who saw the situation from a distance and thought, “This is too risky.” He’s the realist who wants to cut his losses, but it’s important to notice that his fear is the fear of losing more men, not necessarily cowardice. Unlike Odysseus, who acts out of hope, Eurylochus is practical. His attitude here reflects the trauma they’ve been through and how tired he is of losing people. That’s why his frustration boils over later when Odysseus sacrifices men — because Eurylochus has seen enough death.

Now, let’s talk about Scylla. Because this is the moment where everything Eurylochus has learned comes crashing down on him. Remember that vow Odysseus made to him earlier: “There’s no length I wouldn’t go if it was you I had to save”? Well, that sentiment sticks with Eurylochus. He takes that to heart. So when Odysseus makes the decision to sacrifice six men to Scylla, you can see why he snaps. It’s not just that Odysseus is willing to sacrifice them — it’s that he does it without warning, without giving them the choice. Eurylochus feels like Odysseus has abandoned everything he taught him about loyalty. That vow he made? Yeah, it means nothing now. Eurylochus is furious because Odysseus fails him here. He’s been teaching Eurylochus the value of every single life, yet when the time comes to uphold that belief, Odysseus throws it out the window to save himself and his pride. So, of course Eurylochus is mad. And it’s not about the six men dying (because, let’s be real, he’s no saint), it’s about the betrayal. He’s been made to believe in the cause, but now he sees Odysseus as a hypocrite. It stings, and it’s totally justified. This leads us to Mutiny. Eurylochus is right to be mad at Odysseus for sacrificing six men just to save his own skin. Don’t even try to justify that. Odysseus put his own desire to get home ahead of the lives of his crew. Eurylochus did not agree to be cannon fodder for Odysseus’ personal agenda. He wasn’t going to sit back and watch his brothers die without questioning what the heck was going on. So, when Odysseus goes full “sacrifice six for the greater good,” you bet Eurylochus was angry. He wasn’t just upset because they were going to die; he was upset because Odysseus made the decision to send them to their deaths without even consulting them. Eurylochus’ reaction is human, it’s justifiable, and it’s completely rational. He’s not a traitor, he’s someone who realizes that Odysseus’ quest for glory comes at the expense of the people he supposedly cares about. Then we get to the cattle of Helios because apparently everyone’s learnt nothing. Eurylochus has already checked out emotionally. He’s looked at the situation, and for him, the reality of their fate is clear: they’re not going to make it home. They’re already dead in a way, and the gods are just playing with them. So when faced with the opportunity to eat the cows, he sees it as a way to take some control over a situation where they’ve lost all control. His logic isn’t about doing what’s morally right in the eyes of the gods. At least if they’re going to die, they can do it on their own terms — full stomachs, no slow starvation or suffering. It’s a very bleak and cynical perspective, but it’s also realistic. And in a way, it shows a form of wisdom that Odysseus doesn’t have in this moment. Odysseus, of course, refuses to let go of hope. His entire journey is a testament to his stubbornness and unwillingness to give up. That’s his defining trait, and it’s what keeps him going, but it also blinds him to the obvious signs of doom around him. He refuses to accept that the gods are no longer in his favor, that they’ve been punished for their mistakes, and that he’s already sealed their fate. For Odysseus, admitting that they’ve lost would be admitting defeat, and that’s something he can’t stomach. So, instead of facing the reality of the situation, he doubles down on his hope and pride. Eurylochus isn’t the naive one here. He’s not playing the hero’s game. He’s real. He’s already accepted that their journey is doomed, but he refuses to be passive in that fate. He wants to take charge of how they go out. He’s not waiting for divine intervention anymore because, honestly, it hasn’t worked out so well for them so far. He’s out of options and out of faith.

But here’s the darker, more tragic implication: Eurylochus’ perspective is the voice of the crew. His attitude — “We’re never gonna make it home; we’re already doomed” — isn’t just his own individual despair; it’s shared by everyone else around him. The crew is no longer fighting for survival; they’ve been through too much. They’ve seen too many of their comrades die for a cause that seems meaningless at this point (how do you think Perimedes would feel when Elpenor died). They’ve been stranded for so long, constantly at the mercy of the gods, with no real agency over their fates. They’ve lost hope. The entire crew is in a suicidal state of mind, and Eurylochus’ willingness to eat the cows is just the worst tangible sign of that collective despair. He’s the one who finally gives voice to it, like always, but it’s a sentiment that’s been building throughout their journey. He’s come to terms with it in a way that Odysseus has not. In that sense, his desire to eat the cows is almost a form of passive suicide — an attempt to bring some meaning, some control to an already doomed situation. His actions signal a profound loss of the will to live. This attitude is contagious. When Eurylochus speaks, he’s speaking for a crew that’s also checked out, a crew that’s surrendered to the inevitable. They don’t believe in their survival anymore. They’re not thinking about glory or heroism. They’re thinking about getting something out of their final moments, about finding some form of solace in the face of certain death. They no longer care about the gods or their promises. They just want to eat, even if it means defying the divine laws. This is a crew that’s collectively suicidal, mentally exhausted, and emotionally broken. And Eurylochus, in choosing to act, becomes both the catalyst for their final downfall and the embodiment of their emotional exhaustion and surrender.

He doesn’t trust Odysseus anymore. Odysseus promised to bring them home, but where are they? They’re stranded, they’ve lost men, brothers, friends, and the gods keep throwing obstacles in their path. When Odysseus becomes a king in his eyes and no longer a brother, it’s clear: Eurylochus starts thinking about himself, and that definitely doesn’t make him a hypocrite. It makes him human. It makes him someone who’s had enough. So, when the storm hits, and Eurylochus says, “We’re going to die anyway,” it’s not just a defeatist attitude — it’s the voice of someone who’s been burned by his faith in Odysseus too many times. He finally does what Odysseus would have done if he weren’t so obsessed with getting home — he does what’s necessary for survival. It’s harsh, but it’s consistent with his struggle all along. Eurylochus isn’t a hypocrite because he speaks out against Odysseus — he’s just a man who wants to believe in loyalty, but realizes that Odysseus has never really been loyal to anyone but his wife, never his men. It’s a brutal realization, and it’s only when he lashes out in Mutiny that we see the full extent of his disillusionment.

So, before anyone calls Eurylochus a hypocrite, let’s remember that he was the one who had to deal with the consequences of Odysseus’ stubbornness and false promises. He wanted to be the loyal friend, the one who stuck by his leader. But Odysseus made it impossible. Now, he’s just a man broken by the very loyalty he once held dear.

[kiyomitakada]

I think Misa was suicidal since her parents’ death if not longer. I wonder if she regretted not letting her stalker kill her in the brief moment before Gelus’ Death Note fell from the sky and gave her a reason to keep living. I wonder if she killed herself over Light, not because he meant so much to her, but because he had been the only reason she hadn’t done it years ago. I think she needed an obsessive, unattainable goal to justify staying alive. Seeing her parents avenged. Meeting Kira. Marrying Light. I wonder if Light hadn’t died, would she have been able to find another reason to go on living? Or would she have felt she had nowhere to go from there, that no goal was big enough anymore? Misa had hundreds of years to live, a gift from the sacrifices of two gods of death, but I think the only thing keeping her alive for so long was her desperate escalating search for a reason not to end it herself

oh absolutely!!! absolutely!!!!! suicidal misa amane is one of my most solid death note opinions and it genuinely surprised me when i first came on here and didn't see anyone talking about it. i mean it's basically canon isn't it. "kill me now while i'm still young and pretty," "i was supposed to die that day anyway," everything she does just to find light, all the risks she takes in yotsuba including getting in a car with the person she knows is a creep AND a serial killer, "i would gladly die for you"… it speaks so much to me, that desperation to find something worthwhile to die for, which happens to also be something worthwhile to live for. i think suicidality and longing to live are two sides of the same knife and misa is trying so fucking hard to balance on its edge.

I wonder if she regretted not letting her stalker kill her in the brief moment before Gelus’ Death Note fell from the sky and gave her a reason to keep living.

it's actually kind of worse! in the manga at least (haven't seen the anime) all she does is stumble back, she doesn't run — probably a stress freeze response — and gelus kills the stalker but his notebook falls in the shinigami realm, so as far as misa knows her stalker just fucking died right there. this is after kira kills her parents (something i messed up in my fic but it's too late to fix lmao) so i wonder if she saw it as like… this force in the sky that wanted her to live. someone out there who loved her so much he would do anything for her. i wonder how that interfaced with her mental health and how reckless she is all the time.

and then rem carries the notebook down to misa on purpose (she apologizes to misa for giving her the notebook when misa's in prison). so now misa knows that actually it was two separate people who saved her emotionally (light) vs physically (gelus). i feel like this is probably part of why she goes ._. when rem explains the whole gelus thing to her; she wanted it to be kira who saved her. but oh well! now she has the notebook she can help kira, and isn't that even better! completely agree that was her whole reason to keep going. yes.

I wonder if Light hadn’t died, would she have been able to find another reason to go on living? Or would she have felt she had nowhere to go from there, that no goal was big enough anymore?

god i wonder the same thing all the time. what else? the coolest marriage ceremony ever? (they get engaged but never married…) kids? grandkids? some kind of summit in her career? everything hollower and hollower until she implodes in on herself?

[bwat5-blog]

Did Jinx Love Vi?

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Okay. First let me say I am not here to attack or insult Jinx. The title is literally just addressing the question I'm hoping to answer so.. put down the torches and pitchforks. I recently had a very nice short talk with someone on one of their posts, and it was primarily to do with this issue of how Jinx treats Vi in the show. And in truth, I share a lot of their feelings. For the most part, we never really get a moment of Jinx outwardly showing any sympathy or kindness to Vi at all until almost the end. As I always do for clarity let me be crystal clear. Vi is my favorite character. But I think most people watching objectively can agree she tries really fucking hard for the people she loves and gets kicked in the teeth almost constantly.

*Not writing in my usual spot to look up these quotes so some may be paraphrased*

" Never thought my sister would turn blue-belly"- Literally there because of what Jinx did

"I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of prison while you were passed out at the bottom of a mug"- Vi completely spiraling after losing literally everyone she loves and Jinx knowing full well she didn't step in for Zaun until they took Isha

" She used to be pretty cool, til I kicked her ass"- literally the fight where Jinx lured Vi down there hoping to die and it ended with her on her back urging Vi to finish her.

Smirks at Vi when Vi sees the Mural of her and Vander. Even though Jinx literally betrayed everything Vander ever stood for and considers the man who murdered Vander and caused the deaths of their brothers her father. All while Vi is nowhere to be seen.

Now, there is obviously history between them, Jinx has her reasons to be angry just like Vi does. NEITHER ARE PERFECT. But these few examples are not exaggerated or spun. And they are just a few of many. It can really come off like Jinx just does NOT care what happened to Vi at all:

Seven years in Stillwater undergoing god knows what kind of hell

Almost killed getting back to her in the undercity before being taken by firelights

Almost killed by Jinx on the bridge

Almost killed by Silco at the same event where she begs Cait for Jinx life and Jinx responds by murdering Caitlyn's mother

Has clearly been driven so far by Jinx's actions and what has happened that she becomes Enforcer

Abandoned by Caitlyn and on self-destructive spiral that will very likely kill her because Caitlyn has lost her self after everything Jinx has done to her.

However, I think there are some things we need to remember to better understand this issue:

Jinx is severely mentally ill. I know this is obvious. But it matters because everything she says and does is filtered through a different lens than the average person.

Jinx hates herself and in season 2 especially, wants to die until she bonds with Isha. She gives us evidence of this repeatedly but the moment I most remember is when she meets Isha for the very first time and describes knowing she could die at any time as the best feeling in the world. Then goes on to associate herself with cursing a a sister, a family or a society, I think it was.

"I'm losing my snappy comebacks"- Part of Jinx's whole schtick is verbally lashing out. She mocks everyone, at all times, for any reason. It doesn't make it kind or right. It's just what she does. She also absolutely knows precisely what to say to piss her sister off. Like any good little sister would. Additionally, you may be the person yourself but if not, we all know that person whose defense mechanism is cruel or sarcastic words. While Jinx is plenty dangerous, more often than not when she feels insulted/threatened/uncomfortable she goes for the death blow verbally.

Considering all of that, while there are moments I wish she could have shown Vi alittle more kindness and love, especially with how much Vi loves her, I think Jinx's love for Vi remains constant throughout the show, even if her motormouth sometimes makes it hard to see:

The Reunion:

Even after all the terrible things in their childhood, including the incident for which Vi carries so much guilt and some of the fandom think a fifteen year old Vi should have been crucified for, this is how their reunion starts. Vi apologizes immediately and embraces her. Jinx is crying and ashamed of how she has changed but Vi accepts her and loves her. It only goes wrong when Jinx sees Caitlyn, and why is she mad at Caitlyn who she has never seen or met?

Cyclops and lefty to the rescue. Silco to turn Jinx against Vi and Sevika intentionally trying to damage Jinx's mental health, both of these figures poison Jinx against Caitlyn ruining the next several times they get close. But all throughout that series of events we see Jinx trying to overpower the voices in her head because she knows Vi loves her, and she loves VI. Just unfortunately, she does not win.

2. Seeing Vi As An Enforcer:

Now this isn't a happy moment of course. But Jinx isn't so distraught at seeing Vi in the uniform because she doesn't care about Vi. She is seeing what she believes is the total rejection of her by the last person she has who loves her and who she loves, all wrapped up in the package that killed her parents

3. Jinx VS Vi:

Even during the fight Jinx wanted to end in her death, when Isha gets involved and sticks a gun in Vi's face Jinx IMMEDIATELY screams no.

4. Jinx At the Pit:

If you slow down the cinematic of Vi's time in the pit, is actually shown a few times not just the once. Now I admit this is head-canon and probably the least provable one of these. But I don't think Jinx would have show up again and again to take pleasure in or mock Vi's pain. I think she was just checking on her in the best way her mind knew how.

5. Vander:

I already mentioned how their last interaction went, and the fact that Jinx came to Vi anyway to try and rebuild their family knowing full-well Vi would likely want to kill her is impressive and a clear sign of JInx's desire for them all to be together again.

There are plenty more examples to either point (particularly the MASSIVE example of how Jinx feels about vi in the end of the show), this was quick and not my usual quality. But the thought struck me and I wanted to jump on it. Feel free to share your thoughts same/different or otherwise, I appreciate all of you who take time out of your day to read my thoughts. Even when they are quick and slap-dash like this.

The story of these sisters is one that for me, will live on forever. Have a great day.

[wellofdean]

Yeah, we just disagree, straight up. I hadn't read foolondahill17's post, and now I have. I can't agree with that either. I think where we differ is in the sense that Cas has any greater degree in culpability about Mary's death than any of them do. They all failed to see how big a problem Jack's soullessness was despite having plenty of cause for concern, because they all loved Jack. No one could have predicted or prevented what happened to Mary, and even for Jack it was an instantly regretted, horrible accident. Neither Cas nor Dean nor Sam is to blame for it in any real way.

Cas not telling them about the snake is, for me, a pretty thin reason to put so much of the blame on him, and I think Dean knows it. Cas apologises for his part in it, but I don't agree that his apology proves culpability, all it proves is that he feels guilty, and Supernatural is the feeling guilty for things that aren't your responsibility olympics. Also, by the end of season 14 they've not just lost Mary, they've lost Jack, too, and that's a blow to all of them, but Dean, for obvious reasons, can't let that in.

I think blaming Cas for Jack and being angry about Jack are easier for Dean than experiencing his grief. At Mary's pyre his face is just cold fury, and that acting choice -- to just look fucking pissed off without the barest hint of sadness -- is telling. Cas leaves because Dean is callous towards him about Jack (understandably!!) and Mary, and even more callous towards Cas about Bel. He excludes Cas from their grief about the loss of Mary, and can't allow grief about what's happened to Jack in (again, understandable that that particular emotional knot is too difficult for Dean to untangle in so short a time!). He can't empathise with Cas about the loss of Jack, and everything about the situation undermines any notion that Jack and Cas were ever 'family', and that hurts Cas in a way he can't respond to except by putting distance between them.

I think Dean's feelings are understandable and I empathize with them. I think his anger makes sense in the context of his character and the devastating situation they are in where they have lost people they loved so much, while battling for their autonomy against god himself. I don't blame Dean AT ALL for not being able to just get over it, but I also don't agree that Cas deserves his anger. I think those two things can coexist. I also think anger is very often Dean's shield when emotions he can't let himself feel, especially in front of others, overwhelm him, and that this accounts for a large portion of the anger he is feeling towards Cas in these episodes.

By the time Cas has come back and they are back to fighting Chuck, he is not interacting with Dean emotionally, he's being pragmatic and interacting with Dean as a soldier. It's why he won't engage Dean in the bunker when he gets back from the Lee interlude (so much more to say there!), and why he uncharacteristically tells Dean not to be so stupid just before they leave for purgatory, and it accounts for his tone when he tells Dean he couldn't get over it. It's cold, yes, but it makes sense for Cas's character. He's there to do a job. I don't agree it's bad writing.

We see it differently, full stop. Thanks for the discussion, though! 🙏🏻

What you say: The Trap is a dissatisfying episode that presents some questionable narratives about the way relationships and forgiveness should function, and never meaningfully addresses any of Cas’s problems. Instead, it legitimizes Cas’s repeated tendency to keep secrets as a reasonable behavior that Dean needs to get over.

What people hear: Dean did nothing wrong and nothing he ever said about Cas was ever unfair. Cas is entirely and solely responsible for the breakdown of his and Dean’s relationship and Mary’s death is all his fault. Cas should die. Destiel is dead and Cas killed it. I hate him and he smells. Also I killed at least three of your dogs.

[unlucky-leek]

Today I did something I've always wanted to do - I went to the cinema by myself!

I had a Film Studies teacher 14 years ago (god I'm getting old...) who said everyone should experience going to the cinema by themselves at least once, just to see what it's like and how different it is.

Well, today I did it!

It was actually awesome, ngl. I sat in the middle of the aisle right at the back and almost had the whole place to myself.

I went to see Sonic 3 for the second time though, so I'm not sure if that's cheating since it technically wasn't a new movie experience lol. As for why, I was in a new town for an unrelated reason and kind of just made the decision on a whim when I was looking for a landmark to get a taxi to.

The cinema ticket machine didn't print my ticket for some reason and I had to convince them I'd bought it, but luckily I took a photo of the machine. I had to talk to a couple of employees but they were nice about it and let me in.

It actually a pretty fun experience and not as awkward as I thought it would be. Would recommend!

AS FOR THE MOVIE - I'll post my thoughts below the cut in case of mild spoilers.

SOMEHOW IT WAS EVEN BETTER THE SECOND TIME AROUND AHHH

AGAIN, AGAIN!!!!! 😆

I think cuz I knew the plot this time I had more time to simp over Shadow enjoy the background details and animation a bit more?

Someone pointed out online how Shadow looks constantly lost / confused / waiting for stuff to happen for pretty much the whole movie, and it's so true and made everything better lmao

His story is so sad though. "We don't know what to do with you so we'll stick you in a tube for 50 years" *zaps* "But we'll also make sure you're conscious so you can relive your trauma for 50 years too"

Like obviously I've seen it all before, but it just hit different this time around for some reason. Someone needs to give that edgy hedgehog a hug.

Oh and ALSO everyone else in the cinema left before the post credits scenes? Like?? Come on people, you can't wait a few more minutes? The credits had cute little animations to keep you entertained and everything!

Anyway, yeah. It was awesome. Can't wait to buy it on DVD and watch it again at some point hehe

[1toreyouapart]

Exorcizamus

Summary: Life on the road, hunting the things that went bump in the night was a lonely life, admittedly. But having Ruffilo by his side made it all a bit more bearable. They had set out as children, led only by Jolly, to hunt the thing that had killed his best friend, and nearly them as well. Noah couldn't do it without him, honestly. Ruffilo was the brains and he was the brawn in the whole operation.

Adeline was a small town girl. Working to live and living to work. Until she found herself being hunted by the very thing her dad had always told her was just pretend. When the brothers save her, her understanding of the world is flipped upside down.

CW/TW: all things paranormal, death, swearing, smut (updated as it is written to include specific warnings), talk of religion, horror, demons. As always, if I forget anything please don’t hesitate to let me know!

Adeline

FIVE YEARS AGO

Terror seized her in its grasp as ice formed on the windows, the room growing frighteningly cold in spite of the heat being on full blast. Frantic she looked around, watching her breath puff out in front of her. There was something there in the room with her. She couldn't see it, but she knew it was there.

For weeks she had been experiencing weird things happening around her. Ever since she picked up that antique wardrobe. Lights would flicker even when there was no reason for them to do that. Things would fall over or just fly across the room. One night she had come home from work and heard footsteps. Literal footsteps.

And then there was the voices. Oh, God. The voices drove her insane the most. Faint whispers of her name here and there. At first so quiet and so infrequent that she thought she was going crazy at first. Maybe it was lack of sleep. But then it grew more frequent. And then louder. So much so that at times it was like it was screaming at her.

"ADELINE!" The voice screeched, shattering the windows in the room.

White hot searing pain erupted behind her eyes and she fell to her knees, grasping the sides of her head. It felt like her brain was going to explode. The scream she let out was inhuman. It sounded like something was clawing its way out of her throat.

Whispers of her name echoed around her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as quiet settled in. Normally she would be grateful for this silence. This time, however, it felt sinister. Like it was tricking her. Tears fell from her eyes, staining the floor underneath her. She just wanted it to stop. She would do anything for it to stop. All she wanted was peace.

Then she heard it. A loud rumbling outside. A voice calling to her from upstairs. Her breathing grew shallow, unsteady. It was taunting her. What could it want from her? Desperate for relief she rose to her feet once more, letting them lead her to the bottom of the staircase.

The front door started rattling as something outside banged on it, calling her name. She looked back at the door, recognizing a voice she had only heard just that morning. One of the antiquers who had shown up, asking her all sorts of weird questions about the wardrobe. Something about how it was a special one and they were willing to buy it off of her right then. At this moment, she really wished she had let them take it from her.

"Adeline, baby. I need your help." Her mother's voice.

Deep down she knew that wasn't her mother calling to her from upstairs. Her mother had passed long ago, before she was even a year old. Dad had told her it was a house fire that took her. That he was lucky to get her out before the fire overwhelmed the entire house. But she couldn't stop herself as her feet moved, carrying her up the stairs in spite of everything in her screaming at her to run.

Dread festered in her stomach as she crept down the hall, her terror growing with every step she took. She knew she shouldn't be following the voice, yet she couldn't stop. Closer and closer until she stood just outside her bedroom door. A room she hadn't slept in in weeks because of this.

"Adeline. Help mommy, would you?"

Sweat trickled down her back. This was wrong. Why was she doing this? She needed to run, for fucks sake. Not walking into whatever trap this thing had set for her. Yet here she was, opening the door to her bedroom, freezing in terror at what she saw sitting on her bed.

They had burns covering a good 80-90% of their body. Burnt bald patches on their head. The eyes weren't human. Instead this bright yellow as it looked at her, their grin cracking the burnt places on their face, fresh blood trickling out. Sure, they sounded like her mom. But this wasn't her.

"You-You're not my mom," she sobbed, her voice raw from screaming. Why was she here? What had she done to deserve this?

Adeline was vaguely aware of the front door banging open, someone shouting her name. Of their own volition her feet carried her into her bedroom, her hands swinging the door shut. Vomit rose in her throat as the smell of burnt flesh mixed with sulfur engulfed her, the thing pretending to be her mother now standing in front of her. She wanted to scream. To cry. Beg for help or mercy, she didn't know.

"Took me decades to find you, Adeline. Your precious daddy kept you hidden well. But I always get what's mine."

Something she couldn't quite place her finger on took hold of her. It wasn't fear or terror. Something much stronger. Doom. It was impending doom. What did it mean that they always got what was theirs? Why her?

Soon all she could see was those yellow eyes, right in front of hers. Consuming her. Staring into those eyes was like being eaten from the inside out.

Thundering footsteps up the stairs. Shouting. Her heart seized in her chest, her lungs no longer working. No longer pulling in oxygen. Her vision turned fuzzy at the edges, moments before she heard someone shout a name as her vision went black.

Azazel.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @ichoosetenderomens @dontwantthemoney @chey-h

[problematic-yuri-poll]

Problematic Femslash Ship Tournament - Round 1

Kanabiki - Kanade Otonokoji x Hibiki Otonokoji (Super Danganronpa Another 2) VS. Emilico x Kate (Shadows House)

Info and propaganda under cut! This will not be spoiler-free.

Problematic elements for Kanabiki:

this is an absolute trainwreck of a ship love them for that. twincest, yandere, murder, grooming, brainwashing, all that fun stuff ^_^

Problematic elements for Emilico x Kate:

Kate has EXTREME power over Emiico. The only reason Emilico isn't doing everything Kate tells her to is because Kate believes that Emilico deserves to know the truth about herself

--

Propaganda for Kanabiki:

when you first meet the twins, kanade comes off as the soft and sensitive younger twin and hibiki the loud and brash older twin with a tendency to bully her younger sister. this is what hibiki believes their dynamic is too, for the record. you will gradually realize something's up with kanade when she starts talking in detail about murder methods during the trials, and it all comes to a climax when kanade decides to murder a girl she's noticed hibiki getting close to. in their trial, you (as well as hibiki, for the first time) discover that kanade has, for the twins' whole life, been killing anyone that hibiki gets close to or shows affection for. that kanade isn't the soft and shy girl she presents as, but an egotistical serial killer who thinks that she and hibiki are above the rest of humanity and is incestuously obsessed with hibiki because she deems her the only one good enough to be with her. that kanade has effectively learned to brainwash hibiki into a trance state wherein she will obey any of kanade's commands and not remember what happened when she wakes up. hibiki learns then that kanade had put her into this state, and taken advantage of the perfect sync they have as twins and the ultimate musicians, to kill hibiki's new friend together, striking at exactly the same time so that both of them are considered to have dealt the killing blow and both twins are executed together. during their execution, when kanade witnesses hibiki get decapitated, she makes a final expression of orgasmic pleasure, and then dies herself. love these girls!!

Propaganda for Emilico x Kate:

AAAAH it's so gay, and you can SEE the love for each other, ADB the power dynamics between them creates an inherent Dom/Sub relationship between the two. I mean oh my god it's just so good. The way Emilico blindly loves Kate, and the way that Kate blindly loves Emilico, is just so beautiful.

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

why is namek like that

i had a namekian specbio post drafted but along the way i got distracted with the namekian sky, so im just jotting down a bit of my thoughts about how a namekian solar system and planet atmosphere might work. most projections arent particularly stable, its no surprise they had a severe ecological disaster. we know namek has liquid water, and is an earth-like enough temperature for bulma to be comfortable there, so everything else is kind of bending around that. this super cool article by sean raymond talks about how you might make a no-night planet work. luckily no other planets are ever specified to exist in namek's solar system (to my knowledge) which makes this a lot easier! generally more stars = less planets, so im imagining that namek is the only planet in its solar system.

this is raymond's three star system diagram! in this model though, the planet actually does experience night, but only once every 600 years. im satisfied with this, as we get the information about namek "always having at least one sun in the sky" from dende, who's 8 years old, and likely just hasn't experienced or heard about namek's night yet. there's a lot of fun worldbuilding potential here! supposedly grand elder is only around 500 years old, and given that within his lifetime there was a catastrophe great enough to nearly extinct their species, it's possible that no living namekians know that their planet has a night time. but if they have, it's probably some huge legendary event, and is probably associated with porunga in some way since that's the only time the vast majority of namekians will ever experience a dark sky (do namekians have religion? holidays? questions for later...)

so COOL a three star system works! (as long as you allow for these substantial aus, anything for eternal sunlight..) however due to dragon ball rules we're working with a canon year of only 130 days. this is kinda problematic for a habitable planet like namek. shorter orbital period = closer to the (main) sun. given that there are already two extra suns shining light on this definitely liquid water having planet, this seems like we might have to do some magical hand-waving, which makes me sad because i find that boring. but its at least fun to think about what the magical logic is instead of just saying "eh it works because magic", so i wanted to try that! since the dragon balls operate on their own magical logic they might have a skewed definition of what a "year" can be classified as (and a year is pretty cultural too, right?). also, why do the dragon balls take a year to be able to be used again at all? (aside from plot reasons) like... what are they doing? with the dragon balls on earth, it was kinda easy to presume that they were "recharging" or that the dragon himself needed some kind of "rest", and that this process just so happened to take an earth year. the translations i could find were kind of vague on this, so im taking advantage of that vagueness. being about 1 au from the sun in this model, namek's "year" as defined by how long it takes to orbit its central star is about the same as earths (a bit boring, sorry) ! and the time it takes the other two objects in its system to make a full rotation around their shared center far far exceeds that, so i kind of don't think theres any justification to define a namekian "year" as 130 days other than that being the time it takes for the dragon balls to recharge, which makes perfect sense to me culturally! i mean, given that there are three suns, surely the amount of time it takes for your planets magical wish granting dragon to start working again would be a much more meaningful unit of measurement than the time it takes your planet to complete and orbit around your smallest sun (oh god what are namekian seasons like. probably fucked. another question for later). also from my wikipedia skimming it looks like alpha centauri's planet (assuming its a planet) has a similar orbital period to earth's too. its nice to have some real-life justification 👍

theres more to say about that but im moving on from this part for now. i just wanted to provide justification for a namekian year being however long it needs to be in order for namek to have three suns and still have liquid water.

i wanna talk a bit about the planet itself. namely: why the fuck is the sky green??

almost any other sky color could have some non-poison gas explaination except green. DAMMIT!! but its fine we can make it work. (also the plants are blue. which is actually a lot less problematic but i'll talk abt that later) im referencing this artifexian video for my information here btw 👍he gives a few ways that a sky could appear green but we kinda have to rule out all of them here except for something green being physically suspended in the air, because there just isnt any light/atmosphere combination that makes the sky look green to human eyes. since krillin is a human whos just so super wicked strong he can also fly, id be fine hand-waving breathing a green gas or dust for him and gohan, but. bulma is on that planet too... breathing away... also there's pretty clearly grass on this planet and like, brown earth. so mars like dusty skies dont make a lotta sense either. so i guess artifexian's sky-algae idea will have to work ! as horrifying as the implications are .... either these guys are just straight up breathing in green stuff all the time, or the algae is somehow suspended too high up to be inhaled. (also sky-algae would explain why the planet looks almost gaseous from space)

luckily bulma doesnt seem to be having any problems breathing it that green stuff, but like pollen allergies its easy to imagine that someone would be. which is kinda fun to think about actually. someone having an allergic reaction to the namekian sky, validating bulma's concern about breathable atmosphere would be a lot of fun... BUT I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THAT FOR NOW !! i have other goals in mind. i just wanted to record this "namek's sky is green because theres guys in there" concept somewhere. also, three suns at various levels of rising at setting at all times, while not portrayed in the anime due to technical limitations, would almost CERTAINLY mean namek would have a really cool variety of sky colors! just all tinted green because of the sky algae. of course sky algae doesnt need to be green all the time, nor does it need to be in the sky (or alive) all the time. maybe the green skies are new post ecological disaster? very fun to imagine pre-guru namekian skies....

[petorahs]

I would love to hear your thoughts about Sunday. (Please rant about him)

free reign to rant about my favorite character.... omg. I hope you know what you've just unleashed

first of all look at him. he is like a cat.

now where to begin...

I know what kinds of characters I like so I knew immediately that I was in for it when I first saw Sunday, "the most handsome man on Penacony!" with Robin in tow, who was his sister. for reference, characters with siblings almost always end up having my heart. for example Ayato is my favorite character in genshin, Arlecchino following close second. my affection for Aventurine rose drastically the moment I learnt he had a sister. found family Stellaron hunters makes my heart melt. I will always love sibling dynamics, characters who put their families first.

then his interaction with Aventurine happened. his questions were so very clearly a projection, not an interrogation. "Do you love your family more than yourself?" he was so clearly grieving. this is where Sunday starts to set apart from Ayato in my head. Sunday was more emotional and fraying at the seams than we ever saw Ayato throughout the story. he was a grieving brother who barely hides it. and... "Do you wish to destroy this world?". this is where Sunday starts to clearly set apart from Aventurine. Sunday would rather remake the world than destroy it.

and then. 2.2 - In Our Time happened. this is where I knew that he would become my obsession for months and months and months to come. it's where we saw his kindness, his bleeding heart, his pessimism on full display. his love for humanity - but never for himself. his evangelical themes, his Maruki persona 5-esque plan, his own grand orchestra, he himself being orchestrated like a puppet on strings. his Luciferic fall from grace.

...and being caught instead😭

this was so poignant i almost cried. idk like everything clicked here. s*icidal characters being caught (not saved) but held is so important to me. the light in their eyes dimming and the framing of the scene reminded me of how Scaramouche fell. and like how Aventurine held Kakavasha's hands.

PLUSSS sibling characters growing apart the older they get. Robin and Sunday arent that close in the present, that much is clear. they even fought before this. BUT SHE STILL CAUGHT HIM I JUST-- 😭 LIKE FUCK BRO I DIDNT EVEN THINK PENACONY AS A WHOLE WAS GOOD AT THE TIME NOR WAS I EVEN PLAYING HSR AT ALL I ONLY STARTED DURING JUNE 2024 but this still got me. it ended me. it just had everything i ever loved every theme i found dear and personal

also my favorite writing choice they did for Penacony was continuously mentioning Robin and Sunday's "paradise of our dreams" and the "promise" they made and how diametrically opposed they are despite both pursuing that vow, but... we only properly learn what it is at the end 😭

i. just cried at this i think. its such a simple wish but things went so far than Trustful Boy and Guileless Girl could have ever thought.

so that's the journey. ultimately i just came to the conclusion that this guy is just too cute for his own good and he wants the best for people he's never ever selfish or mean 😭 he's as loving as Elysia hi3 i think and his 7 rest days philosophy is just so cute of him.

he truly truly TRULY advocates for resting rather than having to work 9-5's, he would tell you to eat the extra dessert and to sleep in a little. HOWEVER. he would not extend this same leniency to himself. that is the duality and complexity of Sunday. (like look at this)

HE DOESNT RELY ON GODS!!! faithful church boy that he is, he denounced both Xipe AND Ena while still honoring THEM and he makes such good philosophical points and its just crazy that the trailblazers didnt really want to listen to him bc he was cooking. and regardless, he takes his fall with grace. GRACE!! he WANTED to be proven wrong he's just so reasonable and i love his faith and devotion and care and and and

as a kid he dissed the teacher that said little Robin's singing was bad. and then he ate an eggtart out of spite. THE LITTLE BIRDIE HAD SUCH AN ATTITUDE!! and he has piercings in his wings and metal choir in his boss theme of course he's a little alt.

i adore this side of him:

he just. needs to know that he's deserving of all the love in the world he desires for everyone else. i hope he doesnt put himself on such punishingly high standards anymore. i hope he learns more from Aventurine and takes more chances. i hope he gets his :3 smile back on his model.

i am so ill for this man.

also i think this message i sent to my friend after I saw Sunday's animations explains how i feel at all times. I got nothing to hide. (I'm sorry women) (NSFW text warning)

[miitarashi]

Your choice whether you want to do this, might be a little weird or confusing but, could you do headcannons about what being with the different Tintin versions would be like (like, Speilberg Tintin, Jean Pierre Talbot Tintin or 2d Tintin or whatever, depends on who you want to include). Comparing what they would be like since they are all the same guy but kinda different at the same time. It's up to you whether you involve nsfw or not, I don't mind either way 😊

Since it's his birthday,why not?

Prompt: what being with Tintin's different versions would be like. (It's a very long reading,reeaall long so be aware)

[Name] = your name (neutral)

Tintin 1991

♤ This little boy right here,will be a handful.

♤ First,the start of your relationship almost didn't happened. Not that he's clueless,it just didn't registered on his mind at the time because or he was investigating something (dragging you and Haddock along) or he was running from someone (also dragging you along)

♤ When you guys finally started dating a few things changed.

♤ You probably is his first partner so he'll lean on you to learn since dating life never was a topic he knew much. Not naive,just not used to the idea.

♤ He kept dragging you along,this would never change,although he grow a tad bit more aware of you there. If it's too dangerous he would try to make you stay,but if you two were together is because or you are as reckless as him or the reasonable person who follow to make sure he get back in one piece.

♤ Getting you involved is his little way of showing affection (also because he doesn't want to leave you at home waiting for him for God knows how long)

♤ The 91 Tintin has more like a quality time and giving gifts as a love language.

♤ He always liked your presence,but now it got more significant. You were his partner,he loved you and wanted to be with you. Not that he follows you around,he just sees you in the living room,walks all the way there,sits, and keeps doing whatever he is doing, but now in the same place you are. Being honest,you just staying there even help him to concentrate more.

♤ He almost don't have time for himself since he's always running after something,so just having you in the same place without the need to talk,just being there is his favorite way of using the little time he have.

♤ About dates. He prefers simple things at best. Since his life is already a roller-coaster, moments of peace are precious, but with you, it became special. Walking on a park,having dinner at a local restaurant, and taking a stroll late at night. Just you,him, and the comfortable silence sooth all his worries in seconds, making him forget everything and get lost on his little world with you.

♤ What he like the most on you - your hair.

Short,long,curly or straight. Bro couldn't care less.

It's mostly because one time you were really tired, and Tintin offered for you to take a break. You nod and he took the books from your hands but before he could get up to put them back on the shelf,your head drop on his lap and you had fallen into a deep sleep right there and then. He got a bit surprised but also happy that you trusted him this much. He pulled your head in a comfortable position on his lap,moving your hair from your face and almost naturally,his fingers just combing through your hair in a soft caress. Since then,doing it has become one of his favorites.

♤ the gifts? "I saw it, and it reminds me of you"

A flower,sweets or food,a book,a scarf, or just a souvenir about something you were talking about. He's a good listener, so receiving gifts about a topic you really like isn't uncommon, but since he does it suddenly,it's always a delightful surprise. (Also,I don't know, but maybe even a rock if it reminds him of you. You probably have a small collection of them at this point)

♤ Petnames and touches.

I don't see him using one or at least not every time. Your name is a beautiful endering term itself. Why use another? But if you want,probably "love" at best.

Holding hands>>>>

He really loves to just hold and interwine your fingers or when you wrap your arm around his and leaning your head on his shoulder while walking together never fail to make his heart beat a little faster.

☆ Jokes on him completely. He tried to plan a date to,maybe,happen your first kiss, although everything that shouldn't happen happened.

He got dragged into a mess that Rastapopoulos has made yet again and,like always,he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and with you nonetheless. Ah,another classic adventure where you was dragged along again,but this time, he was determined to make it enjoyable and fun just like the date he planed! .

And then it begins,the running after a clue of where rastapopoulos is,hiding from the police because he was being accused of stealing something,followed by the Thompsons brothers who were hired to track him and you and to avoid them? Disguises, of course! Changing from one another every time you two were found was pure fun with the last one being an old couple from the nearest house you two could find.

"Good evening, mister and miss. Sorry for interrupting, but have you two saw a young boy with a quiff and a distinguished person by his side,perhaps?" — the Thompsons asked.

"Boy with a quiff, you say? Dear,have you seen anything?" — you questioned Tintin,who looked thoughtful through the window.

"Hmm,maybe honey...I guess.. they run to the left" — He pointed out. The Thompsons quickly thanked him and prepared to run toward the direction he said.

"Ah,your vision is not the same, dear. They run to the right." . "No, no honey,i'm pretty sure it was left." "No,it's was right." . "No,it was left"

"Ok,we know what to do. Dupond. " "Dupont."

They nod and take different directions,getting more lost than before making you two giggle while watching through the window.

"That's your date idea then?" — you tease,taking off the wig and glasses of the disguise.

"Maybe,is it good,love?" — he mused,taking some parts of the disguise as well. You smiled,taking his hand and encircling his arm around you,kissing his cheek.

"Aside from the running non-stop,it's being a really good time,dear." — his cheek grow slightly redder by the kiss,a soft smile made its way to his lips as he looked down at you. His hand reaches up,combing your hair back in an affectionate gesture,stopping at the back of your head while pulling you closer with the arm wrapped around you.

"It can always get better.." — comfort of your presence,your closeness and warmth gave the last push he needed to lean in,slowly to give you time to back away,but when you moved closer,he allowed himself to close his eyes and finally kiss you.

Tintin 1961/64

☆ This version is interesting.

☆ The 61 Tintin is somewhat more ""naive"". I don't know, but he give me this vibe.

☆ Like,if the 91 Tintin wasn't clueless,this one is. You know the type of friend that when someone see you two interact make them think you're dating but he just dismiss it with an polite smile? That's exactly how he is.

☆ Not that he didn't understand when he began to like you more than a friend,he just thought it would be better to not risk the friendship because he values you deeply. From time to time he end up going to the old man to ask for a few advices of how to deal with it without ending the friendship (not the best idea,Haddock's first words always was for him to just go for it)

☆ In the end,after a little pressure from our dearest Haddock, he finally gathered courage and asked you out on Valentine's Day ♡

☆ Dating life with 61 Tintin didn't change much from before.

☆ His love language is quality time as well,but also touch. He always have contact with you,not liking when he can't take you with him to an adventure but rest assure because everytime he can you will receive a call,even a letter if he can't call. Spending time with you is his favorite thing,mostly when you gush about your new interest having his full attention while also holding your hand,drawing circles on the back of it,completely engrossed on your words paying attention to your little excited squirms with a little grin. Poor boy is infatuated.

☆ Not gonna lie,when he finally had you as his partner,talking about you was the same as Aladdin talking about Jasmine. "I still can't understand how I got this lucky captain..they are funny,beautiful and their eyes!.. and,and how it light up when they talk..and!--". "For God's sake boy! I've understood it already since the fifth time you spoke about them!"

☆ The dates go from random trips to late at night movies.

☆ What he likes more about you - eyes.

The way it lights up when you speak about something you like,how you stare at him lovingly,the gleam when you get happy. Every little time get his heart beating faster since day one. Started with him finding your eyes beautiful to slowly loving it.

☆ Something specific about him is that he remembers every important day. Your birthday,your parents' birthday,any appointments. You didn't tell him? Jokes on you,he knows it anyway.

☆ Petnames and touch.

Going from calling you ''friend'' to "s/o" got he giddy. Sweetheart,honey,love you choose,he's just happy to be able to use those nicknames and hear them coming from your mouth when you call him. He's touchy,but not exactly clingy. Likes to hold your hand,caress your arms,rest a hand on your knees,but always respectful of your boundaries. If you don't feel like holding hands or touch at all, he will understand and resist the urge. ("Resist" because even if it's just the tip of his shoes or his pinky,he will still be touching you,but lightly)

☆ Now,a few different things about 64 Tintin compared to 61 version.

This one wouldn't be naive,not upfront about his feelings either, but he would try to see if you felt the same first before confessing. It's like the 61 version is him younger and more "teenager lover" while the 64 version is older and "mature" (oh wow,don't tell me). He's more aware of his actions, so he doesn't get too close to not trespass the friend zone without being sure of it.

☆ His love languages would still be quality time and touch,but now, also words of affirmation. When before he just admired your eyes and heard your rants,now he voices how much he loves when your face lights up with excitement,the little squirms he adores,how your messy bun is adorable and if he manage to make you blush it's an small victory,using just a tiny dose of his natural sass to tease before pulling you close for a hug.

☆ "Darling" became the main petname for him to call you. Still rant about you for whoever are willing to listen but more like thinking out loud than a dreamy tone like 61 would.

☆ Dates are a bit less random,he spends some time planning it to be a good time and memory for both of you.

☆ The first kiss was something that he was trying to plan but ended up happening spontaneously.

It was on one a stroll on the park after having dinner at your favorite restaurant. The silence of the city slowing down by the late hour embraced you two with a comfortable feeling. Tintin had one arm around you waist to keep you close and enjoy his warmth on the slightly cold night while walking together. His eyes focused on you like always,a soft smile as he tried to pay attention but couldn't help getting lost on your beautiful eyes,you features lightly illuminated by the soft light of the moon,your hair loose just enough to sway with the weak breeze. "Beautiful.." He thought. "Feels surreal..having someone like them this close,maybe I can.."

His arm pulled you closer,erasing any gap between you two,but he felt greedy. He needed more,more of you,wrap you fully with his body and keep you there,but he couldn't yet,the way home would take a while still for him to be able to cuddle with you. This is when his gaze falls lightly,your lips. Tintin's cheek got faintly painted with red, but before he could second guess himself,his steps stopped slowly, making you do the same with a small frown.

"Tintin,what's--" — you tralled off with his actions.

His hand moved to rest gently on your waist,the other cup your cheek with a reverent touch as he leaned his forehead against yours, making your heart race and cheeks flush with a soft tone of red.

"[Name]...can I kiss you,please..?" — he whispered,like if he was telling you a secret only you should hear and know.

Your eyes widen a little,surprised by the sudden request,looking back into his eyes that plead to you. You couldn't deny it,not when you had dreamed of it more than you cared to admit. Your small nod brought a smile to his lips.

"Thank you,darling" — he whispered lowly while leaning forward,kissing you with reverent love.

Tintin 2011

♧ The best for the last of course!

♧ This version is quite something.

♧ Not clueless,not naive, just...him. I have it in my mind (heart and soul) that's he's a Demi person. To feel attraction, he needs to really build a connection with you but have to be spontaneous,so much that he just noticed when he began to look forward to seeing you,talking to you,being with you, and you all know already.

♧ This one didn't have much of a problem to talk about what he was feeling. Obviously, he still felt nervous,but he already had this connection with you at this point and didn't want to mix things or live on the limb of "does they feel the same or not?". He was comfortable with you, so he just took a deep breath,gathered some courage, and spoke up. Friends or partners,having you either way is all he wanted.

♧ Having 2011 Tintin as a partner is,believe it or not,the most normal between those three.

You're probably his first as well and about romance. The only thing he got close to it was a book probably, but he's a quick learner. If you had other relationships through the time you two were friends,hearing your complaints or if you hadn't dated before and only talked about what you would like on a partner when you finally found one was a precious acknowledge he kept and used (not that he needed much,bro is already a perfect boyfriend material😌)

♧ Dating life is change here.

As a friend,he kept things as such. Mindful,respectful, and polite like with everyone else but now with this new level of intimacy he could be a little extra. Different from 61 and 91,he make you tag along because he trust your abilities,of course he still get worried but it's just normal,he doesn't stop you from coming,only when he's sure the danger is real bad.

♧ His main love languages are words of affirmation and touch. Quality time as well,but those two are what he does the most.

♧ A thing I just know for sure is that he really likes to pay attention to you. If you change you hair,even a little he'll compliment you. New style,skin care routine,the stimimg you do about something you like to talk,watch or read and etc,he commit every little thing to memory.

♧ The words of affirmation always come out like a loud thinking or an observation about something you do. Like,he'll watch for a while,smile to himself before speaking, "Your nose twitch when you're focused,it's absolutely endering." Never fail to get you flustered,great success. And if it's not enough..

♧ ✨️The eye contact✨️

He does it normally to anyone,but with you is something more meaningful. He's not only watching,his appreciating and admiring and a little something. This Tintin pass me the idea that letting his emotions real clear with words is not one of his strengths,so he tries his best to convey it through his gaze,that's why he hold the eye contact to make himself clear when he will compliment you.

♧ Dates are a mix of 91 and 64 versions.

He does like to plan it,but only when it's been a while since you guys go out because mostly,the dates are either on his apartment,your house, or Moulinsart. He cherishes much more those moments when it's just you and him spending time together like cooking,reading a book,playing with Milu and etc. To change a bit from the same old comes the planned or random dates,why random? It's just his luck. It can start with an evening strolling through the city doing some shopping and end with you two helping a person that just happened to be kidnapped not so far from where you both was,don't doubt it.

♧ What he like the most about you? Smile.

Plan and simple. Get him all warm inside and automatically bring a smile to his lips as well,what is a bit funny because it happens even with just a memory of it. Like a loose smile, you know?

♧ Petnames and touch.

Darling>>>>>>>

He prefers to offer his arm for you to hold when walking together. His touches are basically the same as the 61 version but less frequent,like not in a clingy manner, although he has this thing of touching when he speaks or explains something and always,I repeat,always ask before doing so. Even if you guys are dating for more than three years,he will still be asking if he can hug or cuddle with you (91 tintin does the same. And,although not clingy he have the same thing 61 have about this urge to be touching you even if slightly)

♧ The first kiss wasn't exactly planned but was on a planned date.

He was preparing for this dinner picnic on the weekend for a while now. Payed for some of your favorite snacks and sweets,champagne or juice if you wanted,even buyed a new blanket to use just for a little extra.

The night was smooth and great just how it should be,he was leaning on the nearby tree with your back against his chest,your eyes closed to fully enjoy the feeling of his arms around you while one of his hands where holding yours making that familiar caress on the back of it that never failed to take all the worries from your mind.

He took a moment to appreciate your face,how the soft light framed your cheeks,the faint shadow the tree provided on you,those small marks your face had,every little thing that made you,you. And finally,your lips. His heart raced with the desire to feel it but hesitant to disturb your peace,he leaned down,just enough to nuzzle the tip of his nose against yours to gain your attention.

Your eyes flutter open, and his heart skips a beat again by the soft and loving gaze directed to him. His hand leaves yours for a moment,reaching your face as his thumb tentatively brushes against your lower lips, bringing a soft blush to your cheeks. He made a silent plead with his eyes without courage to break this comfortable and intimate silence,avoiding your gaze to your lips then back up,with an small nod and shy smile from you, Tintin finally closed the gap between you two with a loving kiss.

A/N: Yo,long time, huh? I'll not be fully back on the blog until March because I will be busy studying for an important test, but this time, i came prepared! I will let some posts ready and programmed through those months I will be out to not let it die. This post is special for his birthday (that I lost last year but not this one!).

Anyway,that's sums things up enough. Thank you for reading,bye bye!

[anghexescu]

Klaus falls silent. Aurelius deserved to know, just as much as Klaus deserved to have known the truth. He moves his fingers out of the water and places his hands on his lap. "He didn't say anything," he answers truthfully.

"Nothing he said would have come close to what he showed me. The things I saw through his eyes from yours....I don't think I have to go into details." How long did Aurelius planned to keep it away from him? Did he intend to keep the secret until Klaus was ready?

"We saw what you did to Fiyero. Then Dar---he knew something and I wanted to know the truth. He felt he needed to show me."

He doesn't look at Aurelius; instead, he wipes the tears from his eyes. "Do you think God intended for all of this to happen? Is there a reason for any of this? In the past, you said that they make everything in their image. What about us? Is there a reason I'm down there and you're up there? A reason why I had to be hunted down while you and your people try to take me for yourselves."

「✦」 Aurelius waits, ears focused on the sound of running water until it trickles to a stop. The distance between him and Klaus might have been as wide as the sea; even if he can fly, he can't find the path to bridge that gap. When Klaus finally voices his question, the angel's hands curl, nails digging into his palms as he grits out an answer.

"....."

"It'll get better with time."

The memory of the sensations would dull, even if the sharp edge of betrayal still stings in his mind. He wonders how much of it is from himself, and how much comes through from Klaus.

"What did Dar say?" Aurelius moves on, focusing on practical answers. "You would've known eventually—but what did he tell you, with the impressions he stole from my head?"