#I think he deserved a chance for something more

[smilesrobotlover]

Here’s a list of characters that I think should’ve made it in Hyrule Warriors:

Groose. 100% he should’ve been in hw. Each era of characters seem to follow a theme of two heroes and 1 villain (in regards of the main story at least): oot has Ruto and Darunia, and tho he’s not exact I sorta count Volga since he looks like Volvagia, tp has Midna and Agitha and Zant, but skord only has Fi and Ghirahim. Why wasn’t Groose the second hero character for that era??? He’s one of the most important characters in the game and the groosenator is IN IT too! It feels disrespectful to NOT have him in it yet he’s not. I don’t understand the logic behind it but it makes me upsetti spaghetti because Groose is the best guy around

Rusl. This is definitely bias talking cuz I love Rusl but also I feel like it makes more sense. Now… I like Agitha in tp. I think she’s a very fun and charming character that adds more life to the world of Tp, but she’s not an important character in that game. You could go the whole game without meeting her and have no consequence (tho she gives you great prizes so it certainly doesn’t hurt to see her), but for some reason she was added to Hyrule warriors? I just don’t think it makes any sense when the resistance were right there. Rusl is one of the most important characters in the game by being Link’s father figure, protecting the kids, being apart of the resistance, and teaching Link how to fight. It feels more natural to have an actual fighting character that was important to the plot be added, but he wasn’t. And this random child who is not a fighter and has no plot relevance was added instead. I will forever be salty about this. And if not Rusl, they should’ve at LEAST gone with Ashei since she’s also a fighter! Give the resistance some love! They’re such cool characters that were not utilized enough! UGH

Vaati. Now I don’t care too much for Vaati in the canon games, but Vaati is a very unique villain because he’s the most reoccurring villain besides Ganondorf in the Zelda series, and he was the first villain of Hyrule before Ganondorf came into existence. I feel like he should’ve had a chance in the game, maybe not in the main story, but at least a playable character. Now, tbf, Vaati is in games that aren’t super well known save for Minish cap, but still. In the world of zelda he’s very important and I feel like deserved a spot on the roster.

Now this isn’t in the actual Hyrule warriors game, but it is a hw game and I think Astor fits on this list. You’re telling me this guy was the main villain in the entire game save for the final battle and he WASNT playable?? HUH???? That is the most absurd character on this list to not be added cuz he’s not some side character, he’s the VILLAIN. Even Sooga became playable (tho that was DLC) but he WASNT! Astor was done so dirty in this game and he deserves so much better. He should’ve been playable is all I’m saying.

I surprisingly don’t have a strong opinion on this cuz idk how they could do this well but I feel like I must say this out of obligation, but Linebeck… and solely cuz I need him so bad. I want to play him in something or see him in something or do SOMETHING with him. I miss my wife tails… again, idk what they could do but they did add Medli so I’m sure they could’ve figured something out. He’s easily one of the most important characters in phantom hourglass and I would’ve love to see him 😔💔

And that’s all I have. I’m curious what other characters people wish were added to Hyrule warriors :00 but these are the big ones for me.

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - part four

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one you’ve never met.

part one | part two | part three

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: the usual, mostly angst!

Masterlist

authors note: I am currently moving into a new home so I hope you enjoy reading this part until I can update again! I think there might be one more part, maybe two. If you have any requests, please send them in, I need the inspiration and am looking forward to my new writing set up!

The apartment feels suffocating, too quiet. Bucky is on his couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His stomach churns, not just from the headache pounding behind his eyes but from the gnawing pit of regret. 

The image of you, standing by the bar last night, arms crossed and eyes guarded—that’s what makes his hangover worse. Not the lingering taste of whiskey or the meaningless, hollow kiss he wishes he could take back. 

Just you. And the way you looked at him like he was exactly what he feared becoming—someone who couldn’t be trusted with your heart.

He runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He needs air.

Grabbing his jacket, he steps outside, the cold midmorning air making his eyes sting. He sniffles and zips up his jacket, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he moves on instinct, as if his feet remember his usual route than his brain does in his current state. 

He makes it to the coffee shop, pausing before walking in, hoping to find you. He takes a deep breath and walks inside. His eyes wander to the back table but find it empty. His shoulders slump in disappointment. He tries to shake it off as he orders a cup of hazelnut coffee. He takes a seat at the same table that used to bring him comfort but now it just feels cold. He sits there, letting the untouched mug grow cold and stares ahead, remembering the way you smiled at him over the rim of your own mug. He hates how upset he feels, knowing he doesn’t deserve to feel this way. Since he brought you here, the atmosphere has changed. The sight of the empty chair in front of him twists anger and hopelessness deep in his chest.

The park is quieter this morning, the usual sounds of dogs barking and groups of old women chatting on their morning walks, are dulled by his intrusive thoughts. He walks along the path where you had strolled beside him, past the hill where you had sat together. He stops and visualizes the way you had tilted your head up, watching the light filter through the trees, and how he had caught himself watching you. He misses the smile that would appear on your face as he spoke about his past and how much he loved that he was the reason for it. The realization of that had startled him then. Now, it haunts him.

The Brooklyn Promenade stretches out before him, the skyline hazy against the afternoon sky. He leans against the railing, the same spot where you had stood. He remembers the look in your eyes, gleaming as you took in the Manhattan city outline. He had been drawn to that look on your face, the way you absorbed the world like it still had so much beauty to offer. And he had found himself watching you instead, more taken by your beauty and wonder— it made him feel some unfamiliar stir in his chest, something terrifying and real.

Now, the space beside him feels too empty.

The record store is the last stop. The familiar scent of vinyl and dust wrapping around him. Music plays softly over the speakers but it doesn’t make him feel the usual calmness. He walks to the listening booth, stopping in front of it, remembering the way you helped him through a difficult memory. 

He hadn’t realized just how much he liked seeing you experience his happiness. Now, all he can think about is how easily he’s managed to ruin everything.

He swipes a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He’s spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, convincing himself it’s better that way. But you—you slipped through the tiny cracks. And last night, he shattered the fragility between you. 

Bucky swallows hard and leaves the store, his mind still a tangled mess of regret.

The fear had crept in before he could stop it. The moment he started wanting this—you—it became too real, too much. He had been here before, letting himself believe in something good, and look where it got him.

Losing his mom nearly broke him. Having Natalie leave right before shattered whatever pieces were left. And now, standing in the wreckage of his own making, he wonders if he’s doomed to repeat the same cycle—pushing people away before they have the chance to leave on their own.

He rubs a hand over his jaw, clenching as he exhales through his nose. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know if he can.

But the thought of losing you for good? That terrifies him more than anything.

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky is scared of something that isn’t the past—he’s scared of the future.

And what it might look like without you in it.

A sharp knock rattles the apartment door. He knows it’s not you, you still haven’t returned from your hasty exit this morning. He texted you once, just wanting to know if you’re okay. He hates the thought of you walking around in an unfamiliar city. You read it but didn’t reply. 

He ignores the knocking at first, slouched on his couch, staring at the floor like it holds all the answers he can’t find. But the knocking comes again—louder, more impatient. He knows who it is.

With a sigh, Bucky pushes himself to his feet and opens the door.

Sam doesn’t wait for an invitation. He steps inside, arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, man,” Sam greets with a stern look and pressing eyes. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Bucky exhales sharply and shuts the door, rubbing a hand over his face. “Not in the mood for a lecture, Sam.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad.” Sam’s eyes darken as he takes a step closer. “Because somebody’s gotta say it. You say you don’t want to lose her, but you’re doing a damn good job pushing her away.”

Bucky clenches his jaw, looking away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

Bucky groans, shoulders tensing. “You don’t get it—”

“No, I get it just fine.” Sam cuts him off, his voice sharper now. “You’re scared. You’ve been running from these feelings for years. And now, instead of dealing with your own shit, you’re just hurting her.”

Bucky flinches but doesn’t argue.

Sam exhales, shaking his head. His voice softens, but there’s no less weight behind it. “I remember what you were like after your mom died. You were wrecked, man. And Natalie? She just walked away. Left you when you needed someone the most.”

Bucky swallows hard, the memories hitting him like a punch to the gut. The loneliness. The heartbreak. The way he shut himself off from everything and everyone after that.

Sam steps closer. “You’ve been keeping people at a distance ever since. And maybe that made sense back then, but not now. Not with her.”

Bucky’s hands clench into fists at his sides. His throat feels tight. “I do care about her, Sam.” He looks away, jaw tightening. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in years.”

Sam nods, like he already knew that. “So what the hell are you doing?”

Bucky exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let someone in like that again. What if—” He stops himself before the rest of the thought can spill out.

Sam watches him for a long moment before speaking. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse forever, man. Yes, she will be going back to Oregon soon but that doesn’t mean she’s leaving you for good. It’s scary. It’s always gonna be scary. But if you don’t face that fear, you’re gonna lose the best damn thing that’s happened to you.”

Bucky lets out a slow, shaky breath, his chest aching. He doesn’t know what to say—because deep down, he knows Sam’s right.

The bell above the door chimes as Sam steps into the coffee shop, sweeping over the room until he lands on you. You’re by the window, hands curled around a cup of coffee that’s long gone cold, staring out at the city. But you’re not really seeing it. The movement of people, the rush of yellow cabs, the flickering neon signs—they’re all just blurs beyond the glass, as distant as the thoughts clouding your mind.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He walks over and slides into the chair across from you.

“You look like you could use some company,” he says, resting his arms on the table.

You blink, snapping out of your daze. Your lips tug into a small, tired smile. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” he replies, but there’s a softness to his voice, a knowing look in his eyes. Like he already sees the storm inside you before you can even say a word. He leans forward slightly. “You doing okay?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the ceramic cup. The truth is, you’re not sure. The emotions tangled in your chest are too heavy to sort through. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I’m just… trying to make sense of it all.”

Sam nods like he expected that. He glances around, then exhales. “You see him now, but you don’t know the version of him that I do—the guy who didn’t even want to get out of bed, who stopped talking to me for weeks.”

Your brows draw together as you look up at him. “After his mom passed?”

Sam nods. “Bucky was different after that. He was always the guy who carried everything on his shoulders, but when she died, it crushed him. And Natalie?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “She didn’t stick around. Their relationship was already rocky, but when grief hit, she made him feel like a burden.”

A sharp pang twists in your chest. Your mind flashes back to the way Bucky had spoken about Natalie. How his voice turned hollow, how his shoulders tensed like even the memory of her was something he wanted to bury deep. And suddenly, you understand it more. The way he hesitates, the way he pushes and pulls, how he keeps you at arm’s length even when his eyes tell a different story.

Sam continues, his voice quieter now. “He stopped showing up. Stopped answering calls, stopped seeing people. And when he did come back around… it wasn’t the same. He didn’t let anyone in after that. Not really.”

You lower your gaze, tracing the rim of your cup with your fingertip. The weight of Sam’s words settles into your chest, filling in the gaps of a story Bucky never quite told you himself.

“And now?” you ask, your voice softer.

Sam studies you for a long moment before answering. “Now, he’s trying. Or at least, he was—until he screwed up.”

A humorless laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “Yeah. Until he screwed up.”

Sam doesn’t argue with that. He just watches your reaction.

You swallow hard, staring down at your untouched coffee. “I don’t know what to do, Sam. I care about him. A lot. But I can’t be someone’s maybe. I can’t stand here waiting for him to decide if he wants me in his life as a friend or as more.”

Sam nods, thoughtful. “I get it. And I’m not here to make excuses for him. What he did was messed up. But I just thought you should know… he’s not a bad guy. He just doesn’t know how to let himself be happy.”

Your throat tightens. Because as much as you hurt, as much as you’re angry and disappointed—you know Sam’s right. You’ve seen it in the way Bucky looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, in the way his fingers hesitate before touching yours, like he’s afraid of wanting something he’s convinced himself he can’t have.

And now you see it in yourself, too. The ache in your chest isn’t just from what he did—it’s from knowing he doesn’t believe he deserves more than what his past taught him.

“I just…” You pause, your voice smaller now. “I want to be there for him.”

Sam exhales, offering you a sad smile. “Maybe he needs to figure out how to let himself be loved first.”

You nod slowly and let his words sink in. Understanding Bucky doesn’t erase the hurt. But it does leave you with one painful question:

How much longer can you wait for someone who’s still learning what he wants?

That night, when the knock on the guest room door comes, you’re not surprised.

You’ve been expecting it.

Still, you hesitate. Your fingers hover over the handle for a beat too long before you finally pull the door open.

Bucky stands on the other side, looking exhausted—like he hasn’t slept in days. His hoodie hangs loose on his frame, hands shoved deep into the front pocket, shoulders hunched like the weight of everything is pressing down on him all at once. But it’s his eyes that catch you. There’s no shield there, no guarded walls—just rawness. Regret.

“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly.

You inhale slowly. There’s no anger left in you, not really—just exhaustion, just a dull ache where warmth used to be. Without a word, you step back, leaving just enough space for him to walk inside.

Bucky lingers for a moment before he moves, running a hand through his hair as he exhales. The silence stretches, pressing down on both of you.

Finally, he breaks it.

“I was wrong,” he says, voice rough. “I keep messing this up. I keep pushing you away, and I know why—I just don’t know how to stop.” He swallows hard, shifting his weight like he’s fighting himself. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just… I don’t know how to be what you need.”

His words land deep, stirring up everything you’ve been feeling since you got here—the warmth of him, the way he made you feel seen, the way he kept you close, then pushed you away in the same breath.

You tighten your arms around yourself, steadying your voice. “I care about you, Bucky.” The words come easier than you expect. “But I won’t be someone you keep at arm’s length just because you’re scared.”

His jaw tightens. His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’m not scared of you,” he says too fast, then, softer, “I’m scared of what this means.”

“I get it,” you say carefully. “But fear isn’t an excuse to push a friend away and drown your sorrows in alcohol when I’m here because of you. You wanted me here, Bucky. And everything was going great—until Natalie showed up, and suddenly, it was like you weren’t even the same person anymore.”

Bucky flinches, his lips pressing together in frustration. 

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I understand if seeing her brought up a lot for you. If it messed with your head. But why couldn’t you talk to me about it? We’ve traded letters for months, you’ve been open with me in ways I don’t think you’ve been with anyone else. But now, in person, it feels like there’s a part of you you’re hiding on purpose.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose as he responds. “I wasn’t trying to hide. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let myself have something good without waiting for it to go wrong.”

Your chest tightens. “That’s the thing, Bucky,” you say softly. “I wasn’t waiting for anything to go wrong. I was just here. I am here”

His breath stutters, and for a second, you see something crack in his expression.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you believe him. You really do.

But believing him doesn’t change the fact that something in you has shifted.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, feeling the ache of the words before you even say them. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

Bucky’s head snaps up, his whole body going still. “What?”

You force yourself to meet his gaze, to keep your voice level. “I came here to spend time with you. To figure out how we would be together. And I think I have.”

Something flickers across his face—panic, maybe. Regret. The kind that comes too late.

Bucky’s lips part like he wants to argue, to fight, but no words come out. Because what could he say?

And then, after a long, agonizing beat, he nods. Once. Just enough to let you go.

The morning light filters through the window, casting soft golden streaks across the ceiling. You’ve been awake for hours, staring at the shifting light patterns. Sleep never really came last night—not when your mind kept replaying every moment, every word, every hesitation in Bucky’s voice.

This isn’t how you imagined this trip ending.

You wanted clarity. Connection. A reason to stay.

Instead, you’re left with the stark realization that no matter how much you care about Bucky, no matter how much he might care about you, he’s stuck in a place you can’t reach. And you won’t break yourself trying to pull him out.

The thought sits heavy in your chest as you finally force yourself to move. Each motion feels mechanical—pulling your suitcase from the corner, folding clothes with a numb detachment. You hesitate over the little things he’s given you, the small tokens of your time together—his hoodie draped over the chair, the vinyl from the record store, a book he’d set on your nightstand with a quiet, “Thought you’d like this.”

You trace your fingers over the spine before slipping it into your bag.

Leaving feels wrong. It feels like severing something that was never meant to be broken. But staying? Staying would hurt more.

You reach for your phone, your voice quiet but firm as you reschedule your flight and call Wanda to see if she can be there to pick you up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon… No, it’s fine. I’m ready to come home.”

The words feel like a lie even as you say them.

Bucky doesn’t mean to eavesdrop.

He was heading to the kitchen when he heard your voice from the guest room. He freezes in place, your words slamming into him like a gut punch.

"I’m ready to come home."

The finality in your tone knocks the breath from his lungs. You’re leaving.

He knew this trip wasn’t permanent, but hearing it like this—knowing you’re leaving now, that you might never come back—makes his insides unravel.

His grip tightens on the edge of the counter, his pulse a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His mind races through every moment—the way you laughed with Sam at the bar, the way you fit so easily into his world, the way your fingers brushed his as you walked around his city. The way you looked at him last night, waiting for something he couldn’t give, and the way he hated himself for it.

He wants to stop you. To tell you not to go. To finally say everything he’s been too afraid to say.

But what if it’s too late?

What if he’s already lost you?

His feet move before he makes the decision. He’s at your door in an instant, his breath uneven, his heart pounding like it’s trying to break free from his chest.

He lifts a hand to knock—hesitates.

Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he pushes the door open.

You turn, startled, eyes wide as you clutch a sweater to your chest. The sight of you mid-pack, standing in the middle of a room that already feels emptier, hits him harder than he expects.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Bucky swallows hard, his voice rough when he finally finds it. “You don’t have to go.”

Your breath catches, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. “Bucky…”

“I know I messed up,” he rushes out, stepping closer. “I know I pushed you away. And I know I don’t deserve to ask you this, but…” He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Stay. Just—stay a little longer.”

You close your eyes briefly, willing yourself to hold firm. “I can’t.”

The words are soft, but they land like a hammer between you.

Bucky’s jaw tightens, his expression crumbling for a fraction of a second. He nods, stepping back as if to brace himself. “Right.”

You watch him, waiting for something—an argument, a plea, anything that might make this easier. But he doesn’t fight you. He just looks at you, and for the first time, you see it clearly.

Bucky doesn’t know how to fight for someone to stay.

And you can’t be the one to teach him.

The ride to the airport is quiet.

Bucky insisted on driving you, and despite everything, you let him. Maybe because you weren’t ready to say goodbye back at his place, maybe because a part of you wanted just a little more time with him.

Now, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, watching the city blur past, the silence stretches between you like a thread pulled too tight, on the verge of snapping.

He grips the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles taut. Every so often, he glances over at you, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

Neither of you turn on the radio.

Neither of you break the silence.

Because what is there to say?

You’re leaving. And this time, Bucky isn’t stopping you.

The airport comes into view too soon, a cold reminder that this is real, that in a few minutes, you’ll be walking through those doors and out of his life.

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, exhaling like it physically pains him.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, fingers trembling slightly as you reach for your suitcase in the backseat. When you turn back around, Bucky is already out of the car, stepping around to meet you. The weight in his eyes nearly makes you stumble.

You shift on your feet, gripping the suitcase handle too tightly. “You didn’t have to drive me.”

He tries to swallow the thick sorrowness that’s creeping its way up. “Yeah, I did.”

A pause.

The wind picks up, rustling your hair.

Bucky shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze flickering over your face, trying to commit every detail to his memory. “I, uh…” He clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “I know I don’t deserve to ask, but—will you still write to me?”

The words nearly break you.

You exhale sharply, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He nods stiffly, looking down as he expected that answer.

You step closer, hesitating just a fraction before reaching for him. Your fingers brush over his forearm first, then move up, slowly wrapping around his back. And Bucky—Bucky doesn’t hesitate at all.

His arms come around you in an instant, pulling you against his chest with an urgency that nearly knocks the breath out of you. His grip is strong, desperate, he’s afraid to let go.

Your face presses against the worn fabric of his jacket, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe him in—his warmth, his quiet strength, the scent of the familiarity and fleetingness of his presence.

You don’t know how long you stand there, wrapped up in each other, neither one of you willing to be the first to pull away.

But then the announcement sounds out over the speakers, a reminder of where you are.

You close your eyes and force yourself to step back. Bucky’s arms drop to his sides, fingers flexing because he wants to reach for you again but knows he can’t.

“Take care of yourself, Bucky,” you whisper, holding back tears threatening to fall. 

His jaw tightens. “You too.”

You grab your suitcase, forcing your feet to move toward the doors, toward the life waiting for you in Oregon.

You don’t look back.

You can’t.

But if you did, you’d see Bucky standing there, unmoving, eyes glued to you as you disappeared from him.

And as he finally drags himself back to his car, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing holding him together, the tears start flowing. .

Bucky unlocks the door to his apartment, stepping inside as silence greets him. He exhales slowly, taking off his boots and jacket and makes his way to the kitchen. His hand hovers over the light switch, hesitating.

His eyes land on the mug you last used. He picked it up for you before you arrived, wanting you to have something of your own while you stayed here. He remembered you writing to him that you always have a mug of tea before bed every night. 

He wanted to make you feel at home or at least like his home could be yours too. 

He walks over to the sink and picks it up, noticing it still full and untouched of dark brown liquid. 

His grip tightens around the ceramic, his jaw clenching as he stares down into the empty sink. The anger isn’t really at the mug, or even at you—it’s at himself. 

With a sharp inhale, he sets the mug back down. Not because he wants to, but because he knows if he doesn’t, it’ll end up shattered in his hands.

Bucky doesn’t think—he just moves.

He grabs his running shoes, shoves his headphones in and steps out into the cold night air. The Brooklyn streets are quieter now. He starts off at a steady pace, his breath coming in measured exhales, his body falling into the familiar rhythm of running.

When the weight of the world gets too heavy, when the noise in his head refuses to settle, this is what he does. He runs until his legs burn, until his lungs ache, until there’s nothing left but the sound of his feet hitting the pavement and the steady pounding of his heart.

But tonight, it doesn’t work.

Because tonight, every step feels like he’s chasing something he already lost.

His mind flashes back to you—the way your shoulders tensed at the airport, like you were holding back everything you really wanted to say. The way you held onto him just a second longer during that last hug before finally letting go.

Bucky pushes himself harder, his feet slamming against the pavement as he takes a sharp turn down a quieter street. His breathing is ragged now, his body screaming for him to slow down, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Because stopping means thinking, and thinking means feeling, and he doesn’t want to feel this.

He runs past the coffee shop and his stomach clenches. He runs past the record store where he  shared such a thoughtful, tough memory with you.

Everywhere he goes, you’re still there.

He finally comes to a stop at the Brooklyn Promenade, hands on his knees, chest heaving as he stares out at the city lights reflecting over the water. He used to love this view. Used to come here when he needed clarity.

But right now, all he sees is the ghost of you standing beside him, a memory he can’t outrun.

The realization crashes over him like a wave, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky feels it all.

The regret. The longing. The emptiness you left behind.

And for the first time, he doesn’t know if running will ever be enough to escape.

Thank you so much for reading <3 please reblog or comment below, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback!

[unsoundasleep]

I think one aspect of the text suggests that Valjean’s fuckup here was more “did not think this through” than “morally objected to Fantine’s behavior”!

It’s that we don’t see Valjean have a growth moment in between establishing his policies and rescuing Fantine. When Valjean forces himself to grow, or to overcome himself for another’s sake—rescuing Champmathieu, taking Cosette out of the convent, rescuing Marius—he is having a very bad time, and we hear about it.

(Champmathieu is of course the biggest, most drawn-out example. It’s gruesome. Valjean’s shoulder-devil utters horrifying things like “well even if Champmathieu is innocent of Being Me, he still must have done SOMEthing wrong so he deserves my punishment.” But with Cosette and Marius as well, we are at least passingly informed that Valjean is wrestling with himself.)

But the moment Valjean realizes what happened to Fantine, he’s trying to correct it—there’s no hint of him having to overcome a prejudice about her situation or past actions. I think this indicates that Valjean's manager misunderstood his policy, and applied it in a way he would not have. I think Valjean meant “be honest AFTER I hire you,” and intended the employment he offered to be the equivalent of the bishop’s silver—the chance to become honest.

Father Madeleine is like 'I employ literally everyone in this little garrison town in economic disarray! except women who have had sex'

[minerpore]

time for me to join the trend of bashing on The Fallen 4!!

@michaelscorneroftheinternet & @dorriostareyes

AU 4'S, ASSEMBLE-

(tw/cw like usual for Wailord 4: moobs, becouse this fucker still refuses to put on a shirt)

Gem 4: i won't waste too much words on you, bastard. but i'll tell you this; i'd rather let myself shatter than do something like you have done.

do you even regret what you've done?

Wailord 4: how could you do such a thing?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO LOVE AND CHERISH YOUR 3, NOT LEAVE HIM LIKE THAT TO DIE!

*and then the skittens and Wailmer Beeg proceeded to treat the awful 4 like a training dummy lol. get Body Slammed and Water Gunned, idiot*

*le gasp* what's this? unexpected early public reveal of a new au 4?? y e s

introducing, Glamrock 4! in-universe known as Liam!

(plz ignore the repeated "Fallen 4" written on the paper, it's just a part of little context note for myself)

Glamrock 4: sure, i don't get along with Jacob myself. but i've always wanted to be able to become friends with him.. and you?? you throw away your chance at being on better terms with your "Three"?

listen here, buddy. this won't be the first time one of us caused serious injury upon a human (assuming you even are a human-) being. but this time? it won't be an accident.

left the best (i think) for last! hehehe~

Monster 4: HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?! 3 SAVED YOUR SELFISH ASS, AND THIS IS THE THANKS HE GETS?? YOU COULD ALWAYS RECREATE THE STUPID VIDEO, YOU CAN'T JUST MAKE ANOTHER SMG3! HE DIDN'T HAVE TO GO BACK FOR YOU, HE COULD HAVE SAVED HIS OWN LIFE! YET HE DIDN'T!

I THOUGHT I WAS A MONSTER, BUT CLEARLY YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DESERVES THAT TITLE MORE!

it should have been you, not him.

...

have a bonus empty space eggdog too

[northlight14]

A PSA to non asexual arcane fans!

Ok with the recent announcement that Viktor is asexual, as an asexual myself who has Viktor as their favourite character, I wanna get some shit out the way. There’s a good chance I’m gonna stop interacting with the arcane fandom because of this announcement because every time I’ve seen a character be confirmed asexual there’s always just this influx of acephobia and misinformation which makes it impossible for me to even interact with the fandom and feel safe. So throwing this at y’all and then we’ll see what happens. However, I do not speak for the whole of the asexual community so some aces may disagree with me and that’s ok, as long as y’all aren’t rude we can have a discussion (or you can just scroll or block me, whatevs🤷)

Asexual and aromantic are not the same thing. This is something the creator clearly doesn’t know since he used Viktor’s asexuality as a rebuttal against Jayvik which makes zero fucking sense but sure. So asexuals can still date and aromantics and still have sex. Some like myself are both but that’s not always the case

“Asexuality is a spectrum! Some asexuals still have sex!” is not the good excuse you think it is to depict asexuals in sexually explicit situations. Every time I see this paired with this excuse, the character is very obviously just made to be allosexual in the fanwork. Either stick to sexualising the allosexual characters or do your research on sex neutral/favourable asexuals and represent them properly. Otherwise what you’re doing is no different to writing a fic where a canonically lesbian character has sex with a man

“Asexuality is a spectrum! People can be demisexual or greysexual!” If the character was demisexual or greysexual, the creator would have said. But they didn’t. They said they were asexual. You changing the label doesn’t make you inclusive, it makes you acephobic

Viktor being announced as asexual only after the show was released and it being in rebuttal to a gay ship where the writer clearly doesn’t know what it actually means to be asexual isn’t the win for ace representation some might first think. Asexuals deserve explicit representation by people who bother to learn how to represent us properly

Having the only asexual character also be the character who’s storyline focuses on disability, something that people already infantalise also isn’t the win people might try and make it out to be. Disabled people are frequently denied sexuality and it is part of the way they are infantalised in western society. So having Viktor be disabled and also be the only asexual character feels a bit iffy to me. Obviously there are disabled people who are ace and I don’t want to diminish that experience either. And there would be ways to explore that in a more nuanced way but that’s not what happened. And frankly it would be so easy to avoid this by just having more than one ace character so it doesn’t feel like a trait exclusive to disabled people but sure go off I guess

A lot of you only give a shit about QPR’s (queer platonic relationships) so that you have an excuse to ship aromantic characters. Granted, I’m so in favour of QPR Jayvik because their relationship explicitly goes beyond what we consider standard for a platonic relationship, even if it’s canonically not romantic. But I’m bringing this up anyway because a lot of the time in fandom and society in general, QPR’s are seen as a way to make the aromantic character more “palatable” to the allo’s and shippers. And as someone in a QPR, that idea honestly feels both insulting but is also so damaging to the aro community as a whole. Loveless aromantics exist, some aromantics who do feel other forms of love still don’t want a QPR. Some like myself were/are indifferent and some like my partner really want/ed one. Not all of us are the same

Might’ve missed some stuff but yeah. Any acephobia will be deleted but I’m happy to have civil conversations and answer questions. Ultimately I just want a fandom to actually listen to ace people for once but I know that won’t happen. Still, I wanted to at least say my peace

[emsdevs]

Can I please have 13 with Joseph Woll 🎁 happy birthday again! - em

a/n: here's the first celly post!! i'm so excited to get to all of these!! you guys made SUCH good picks!!

Prompt 13: "You deserved to know."

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

Catching up with Jo had been everything you could’ve hoped for. When he reached out a few days ago after he arrived in your hometown for the off-season, you could only hope it would go well, but it’s been like nothing has changed at all, like he never left and you two never lost touch. He’d had you laughing and reminiscing the whole time. That all went away, though, when you watched his smile turn serious.

“Look, there’s an actual reason I asked you to come here with me today,” you could see the nerves swirling in his eyes, making a pit grow in your stomach.

“Oh, okay, um, what, uhh, what did you need?” 

“So, there’s something I need to tell you—actually, a few things. First of all, I met this girl in Toronto,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s great, Joey,” you give him a tight smile, ignoring the way your heart clenches at the news.

“Yeah, so, um, we’ve been on a few dates, and I, uh, I think she’s waiting on me to make it, you know, official. But, uh, before I do, I really need to get this off my chest, and I need to know what you think about it,” he gives you a look, and you’re nervous all over again.

“Okay. What do you have for me?” 

“I think I’ve always been in love with you, and I’m not sure I can love anyone else until you turn me down,” he says it quickly, like it’s been fighting to come out of his mouth all day.

“What?” you were shocked, you never expected him to tell you anything like that.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school, but I was too scared to tell you before I left after I got drafted. I wanted you to know, but I chickened out. I didn’t think you’d feel the same. Now, I met this girl, and she’s really great. She is! She’s just not you. I can’t move things forward with her unless I know you don’t feel the same way. Either way, I still feel like you deserved to know. Especially if we’re gonna stay close after this, but I probably just ruined any chance of that. So, um, yeah,” he trails off at the end of his rant, unsure what else to say.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Jo,” your face is still covered by a stunned expression.

“Yeah, so you wouldn’t be holding me back, right? I get it. It’s okay. Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll let you go now,” Joseph looks dejected, and you realize you could’ve been a bit clearer.

“No! I- I wish you would’ve told me sooner because we could’ve been together this whole time. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember Joey,” you give him a reassuring smile, hoping that maybe now the two of you could be a little more than friends.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes out a sigh of relief, “Wait, so is this our first date?”

taglist: @heartsforjh @macklin-celbrini-71  @dancerbailey3  @joeyspuckbunny  @beenucks  @wolls-angel  @lukey-pookie-hughes43  @t0xicinvasion

join the taglist

[pigeonentity]

i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction

twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)

twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm

thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?

11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous

11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??

12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up

10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy

I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there

but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant

ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please

to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)

[williceunleashed]

Never forget what could have been. Ghetsis robbed us from emo Dardanne.

Most of his emo outfit was shoplifted, he stole his sister's make up and he did his hair himself with stolen hair dye

I think teenager N would have been scared of pre-plasma teenager Dar. But I also think teen N would want stripes in his hair. He woud want to have pokémon fur patterns. They would have hair dyeing sessions

TW mention of reaction to abuse under the cut :(

Dardanne was reckless as a result of abuse at home. He would steal stuff, miss school, hang out with people way older than himself, sneak out at night and generally be a danger to himself. The simple fact of dyeing his hair and wearing alternative clothes around his family was already putting himself in danger, as it made his family viscerally angry and appalled at him. In general, his behavior was close to psychological self-harm. He would put himself in terrible situations, suffered the consequences and feel like he deserved it, and it made him feel better. It left him seeking for more and it was very harmful.

It culminated in him running away from home, never to return. He was found by Ghetsis by pure "chance", and it was easy for Ghetsis to make a child desperate for love and comfort to follow him. Plasma quickly slapped some obedience into Dardanne, and the harmful system of punishment coincided well with Dardanne's psychological self-harm, harming his sense of self and self-worth further. Dardanne found comfort in this system, it was something he knew well, even if it was hurting him

[trans-duckling]

KakaGai Valentines 2025: First Date

Gai was going to ask Kakashi for a date. This was a decision he had made just a few hours ago after some time of careful consideration. See, his rival and him had shared a couple of… intimate moments during the last couple of months. Not much, mind you, just two kisses and —in the heat of the moment— some wandering hands over the other’s body. Needless to say, Gai had not allowed it to go any further —even if some parts of his anatomy wanted to argue against it—, and shortly after the Hatake had run away.

Which was the same that has happened after each and every time they got close.

Of course, he was a patient man and could understand the hesitation of his friend, but ignoring his own feelings was beginning to be too hard. So, even if he knew the chances of success were rather low, he was going to ask Kakashi for a date.

“Yosh! Now I just have to think about the perfect moment to do it!” he exclaimed in the silence of his own home.

The house his father had left for him was far away from the main part of the village, which allowed him to be as loud as he wanted without annoying any neighbors, something his team had joked about becoming a problem once he moved into the chunnin building. That would have to wait a bit, though, since he wanted to invite Kakashi to a nice place and that implied using part of his savings. But it was totally fine! His rival deserved only the best, after all.

“You’re thinking too much about it, Gai” Genma sighed the next day while they trained together. “That’s my honest opinion.”

While he spoke tiredly, his teammate jumped backwards to avoid his hits, senbon moving in between his lips. Gai followed carefully each movement, knowing that in any moment the weapon could be thrown in his direction.

“But I’m not!” he complained, attempting a round kick on him. “A first date must be perfect!”

“According to whom? I know more horrible first dates than good ones” Genma huffed. “You should ask Asuma about it.”

“B-But… Kurenai always speaks fondly of their first date!”

“Yeah, because with time the embarrassment transforms into a funny memory” his friend chuckled. “Seriously, Gai, just invite him to dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“And what about...?”

“No flowers, no poems” Genma cut him. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this, Gai. Are you sure you know the Hatake well enough to even like him?”

“Of course I do! We’re eternal rivals!”

Even if they were talking, their hits didn’t stop and Gai internally celebrated when his kick got Genma in the gut with enough strength to send him to the floor.

“I win!”

“Yeah, yeah…” his teammate coughed. “It would be strange if you didn’t, this being a taijutsu match and all.”

“I’m sure that with enough training you could reach my level at hand-to-hand combat, my friend!”

“Sure…” Genma rolled his eyes accepting the hand Gai was offering to lift him up. “Anyways, follow my advice. Don’t go too big on the Hatake or he will run away, just like when you two…”

“SHH!” his hand slapped against his friend’s mouth in a quick movement. “Didn’t I tell you that was a secret? Kakashi probably doesn’t want anybody to know!”

That comment made Genma frown and angrily remove his hand away.

“Honestly, Gai, if he doesn’t want for it to be public, then you shouldn’t bother” the other boy huffed.

“But keeping a relationship secret is normal! Especially while tensions in between villages are still high.”

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and when his eyes met Genma’s, he saw on them a determination that was normally reserved for real battles.

“We both know that’s not what you meant” he said. “Don’t settle for anyone who is ashamed and not proud of being with you, Gai. You know better than that.”

He had to look away after a few seconds, nodding silently. He was not ashamed of himself —he had come very far as a shinobi!—, but he was well aware of what people in the village still said about him. Sometimes it was difficult to keep believing in himself when his father was not there anymore to push him forwards.

A new clap on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Well, I have to go now” Genma said. “But listen to my advices and, if he says ‘yes’ to the date, remind him that I’ll chase him down if he doesn’t fulfill your expectations.”

“Genma!” he exclaimed, looking back at him in surprise. “You should not make such a threat against a comrade!”

“He’s just a fellow shinobi, you’re my teammate and brother in arms” his friend shrugged, walking away. “See you!”

He disappeared before Gai could complain anymore, so instead he was left there in the middle of the training ground, alone with his thoughts.

Finding Kakashi was easy enough, as Gai seemed to have a sixth sense to detect where his rival was most times. The Hatake walked alone, as usual, dressed in his shinobi clothes and with a serious expression on his face, but by his manner of walking it didn’t seem as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere. Which was perfect for the taijutsu master.

“Rival!” he called. “Wait up!”

In the past, Kakashi would have done just the opposite, disappearing in front of him and forcing Gai into a chase. Lately, however, his friend had just started to stop dead when he called his name.

“Hi, Gai” the Hatake said with a tired tone. “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for one of your challenges.”

“Oh, that’s fine, rival!” he beamed with a smile. “I actually wanted to talk, that’s all.”

“To… talk?” Kakashi’s right eyebrow had lifted, looking at him with a mix of confuse and amusement. “That would be a first.”

“Don’t try to act so cool and aloof, rival, I’m sure we have talked as normal civilians before!”

The inquisitive eyebrow maintained its position.

“Well, maybe not, but that’s because challenges are way more interesting!” he complained, huffing. “Anyways, this is important. Perhaps you would like to go somewhere, um… more private?”

Up until now, they had been standing to the side of one of Konoha’s busiest streets, which made difficult for them to have a serious conversation without an eavesdropper. His suggestion seemed to have an effect on his friend, as Kakashi’s manner changed and he turned more serious, nodding quietly.

He jumped away first, the Hatake following easily behind until they were in a small park several streets away. It didn’t have a playground, but instead a couple of big trees that blocked the view from the buildings around them and offered some shadow. The place was empty, which also ensured the privacy Gai assumed his friend would like.

“So? What is that you wanted to talk about?”

He swallowed his nerves away. A Maito never backed down!

“It’s a question, actually” the taijutsu master clarified. “I… I wanted to know if you would like to go on a date. With me.”

In front of him, Kakashi just blinked, as if waiting for something else to come out from his mouth. After a couple of seconds, he seemed to realized that was about it.

“All this secrecy… To ask me on a date?” the Hatake questioned, shifting the weight on his legs.

“Well, I thought you’d appreciate the privacy, rival!” he exclaimed, noticing just after that his tone was too high. “Besides, I didn’t want to invite you on a first date in the middle of a busy street.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘first’?” Kakashi huffed. “Have you forgotten how to count, Gai?”

He was pretty sure the answer to that question was ‘no’, but then again the expression on his friend’s face told him it may be ‘yes’.

“Uh… I don’t think so?” he babbled, blinking a couple of times. Then, he let out a stressed laugh. “I mean, I would have realized if I had been in a date with you before, rival!”

“Apparently, you wouldn’t” the Hatake pointed out with a sigh, although his manner had suddenly shifted. He looked somehow… nervous. “I mean… What about last week’s dinner at BBQ? And before that, in Ichiraku? I thought that had been our first date.”

“I… Uh… What?!” Gai mumbled, trying to sort out his thoughts. “But, that… I thought you invited me to dinner because you owed me from previous challenges!”

“Since when do I fulfill that part of any challenge?” his rival huffed, half-annoyed and half-worried.

Kakashi did have a point there; anytime he would lose a challenge in which he had to pay the food after, he would never follow through.

“Are you…” the Hatake hesitated just a moment, changing his manner for one just slightly more aloof. “Does that mean you’re also not counting the kisses we shared?”

Just the mention of those made Gai blushed furiously. He had never imagined his friend would be the one bringing them up.

“I do!” he exclaimed. “Of course I do, rival! But I just thought… Well, you ran away after each time!”

The other young shinobi looked at him as if he was stupid. Which he was starting to feel as, at that point.

“Gai, after the first kiss we had to return to the village to give a report, and you were called out to another mission” he deadpanned. “By the time you came back, it seemed like nothing had changed and you didn’t want to know anything about it. I just guessed you felt the same way as I do a couple of weeks ago, when you kissed me again, and just after an ANBU came looking for me. It’s not like I didn’t want to acknowledge it.”

Gai blinked. Once.

Twice.

I just guessed you felt the same way…

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

“Besides, I don’t know what you think of me, but I don’t go around putting my hands under the shirt of each person I see…” the Hatake half-joked.

The blush came back. The amount of blood in Gai’s face was not making it easy for him to think clearly. At the moment, all his brain cells seemed to be fixated in bringing him back the memory and feeling of his rival’s hands slipping under his shirt.

It had happened just two days ago, when Kakashi had oddly —although apparently it was not odd anymore, as that has probably been a date as well—, accepted his invitation to spend the afternoon together. Some training after and the two of them lying side by side on the training ground, the Hatake had turned around to lay closer to him and touched him softly. Another team had appeared a couple of seconds after, so the interaction had stopped abruptly and each one had gone their way for a very well-deserved shower.

“I do!” he babbled a moment after, which only brought a confused expression to his rival’s face. “I mean, I do feel the same way!”

“Oh” the Hatake said, for once speechless and… was that a blush coming up from underneath his mask? “That’s… Good. Yeah.”

“And I think highly of you, rival! Never doubt it again!” Gai continued, uncapable of stopping himself. “I just wasn’t sure if you did, or you would like to be in public with me, or if you…”

“Wait, what?” his friend interrupted him. “Why would I have a problem with being together in public?”

Taken aback, the taijutsu master had to swallow his own saliva and brush the back of his neck before finding the right words. Or the closest thing to that.

“I-I mean… You’re an elite shinobi, Kakashi” he tried to explain. “And I’m… well, just another jounin that…”

“Stop right there, Gai” the Hatake intervened once again. “You’re not ‘just another jounin’, you should know that already. Surely the Hokage knows it, and whoever goes against his words is just stupid. If anything, you should be the one worrying about going out in dates with a ‘friend-killer.”

“Rival!” the taijutsu master growled. “I told you to never use those words to refer to yourself again! You are an amazing shinobi and friend, your team was lucky to have you and—”

If anybody would have told Gai the events that just took place would happen, he would have laughed loudly and then complained about joking with things like that.

His honest and tearful discourse was interrupted by a mouth colliding with his. And this time he could feel the lips of Kakashi against his own. Gai’s eyes opened widely as he was kissed by his eternal rival, mask folded around the Hatake’s neck. His body, however, seemed to be ready enough to react without any instruction from his brain, as a second after his eyes closed and he pushed slightly forwards. This was his third kiss, so he knew it would not be perfect, but as his lips moved timidly against Kakashi’s mouth, a warm feeling filled him deep inside.

The other two times his rival and him had kissed, it had been electrical. Almost a lustful reaction in a moment of tension. This time felt different. There was no electricity around them, but something softer.

He decided this was his favorite kiss so far.

“Let’s make something clear” the Hatake said against his lips when they separated. “I do like you, and we have been in four dates so far, understood?”

The taijutsu master just nodded, the temptation to lean in again to share another kiss almost too strong to contain.

“Good.”

As fast as Kakashi had taken his mask down, it was up again and covering his face from the world. Gai had seen it in a couple of occasions, but never had the opportunity to properly appreciate it. He hoped one day he could.

“Being that way, rival” he said, coughing to regain some self-control. “Would you let me invite you to a fifth date?”

“Only if you pay” his friend said. “You owe me, after all the headache you just gave me.”

Gai laughed loudly.

“Of course, rival!”

There were more things he wanted to talk about. Especially now that it seemed like Kakashi did not have a problem with talking about their relationship. Assuming they were in one.

Huh.

Maybe that should be a question for later that day.

Was the mighty Hatake Kakashi his boyfriend now?

[starsofarda]

Hi, this is the second of the bazillion prompts I was given (btw you are still very welcome to fill out my list :D)

@jiangwanyeehaw ha detto: What I recently thought about: Melkor and Maedhros body swap au. There is no explanation, just pure chaos

I hope you like this snippet <3

AO3 Link

The first thing Maedhros noticed was that he was feeling lighter, somehow he wasn't feeling the chains around his body anymore.

The second thing he noticed was that his body seemed healthier, powerful even - an unlikely scenario, considering that he had been indeed a tortured prisoner in that horrible place called Angband for quite some time now and that his strength had dwindled down considerably.

The third and maybe first thing he noticed that made him think that something was horribly wrong was that he heard himself being referred as "Morgoth" by none other than Sauron himself.

That had to be the worst joke in existence.

He looked up - or better, down - and saw the Maia with an unnerved expression. "What did you just call me." His voice was different too, lower, darker. The tone came out more threatening than surpised. "Forgive me, Sire, Melkor. I should have watched my tongue." Sauron's mellifluous tone gave Maedhros a slight shiver he hoped had gone unnoticed.

At that point he looked better at himself head to toe in the faint reflecton of the gold of the lamps that adorned what now he had understood was the throne room. At that point he let out a series of insults worth of his late father.

He was now in Morgoth's body. How? He had no idea. Definitely someone out there was the worst jester in all Arda and as soon as he was out of that ordeal he was going to hunt the culprit for sport, be it Elda or Vala, or Maia or Man yet unborn.

In the meantime, however, he had to come to terms quickly with the fact that he was in Morgoth's body and that made him feel unclean in a way he did not think was possible.

But if he was in Morgoth's body, did it mean that Morgoth was in his body?

He had to stop thinking about it to avoid being sick to the bone. On hindsight, however, this brought up quite a lot of interesting ways to turn the tables.

And Sauron was still there.

"My Lord, are you al-"

"I am. Bring me to the prisoner." He acted out. Acting had been one of his skills after all, back in Valinor. Never he would have thought that he would need them at all. However, if he could fool everyone in Angband long enough, then he had the chance of turning this whole mess around.

And getting back the Silmarils, as he noticed them embedded in Morgoth's crown, shiny as he remembered them in Feanor's hands.

As Sauron lead him through the dark corridors towards a very familiar cell, he saw his body clearly possessed by Morgoth. Maedhros, in Morgoth's body, felt like smirking. "Leave me alone with the prisoner." He ordered. "But Sire, he is not deserving of your attention!" Sauron rebated in the same earlier tone. A simple look was enough to shush him.

"Of course, Sire. I shall take my leave."

As Sauron completely disappeared, Maedhros dropped the act. "Was it you?" "Do you think I would swap body for a ragged Elf barely able to hold himself up? No. Of course not." "You do realize I am now up." "As if you would hurt your own body." "You are bold to assume I would not be above that." "You must hate yourself so so much."

Maedhros, in Morgoth's body, did not dignify that last statement with a reply. Only Morgoth's laughter, jarring through Maedhros' clearly younger and higher voice, echoed through the corridor. "You are going to regret this, Son of the wretched Elf." "It will depend on whether you will regret this first, filth."

And with that he considered the conversation closed. It was going to be a long period, but he had plans. Morgoth too, unfortunately, but Maedhros loved a challenge.

And he was now in for the biggest challenge of all.

[cantfightmoonlight]

"More like I was desperate to try to find a silver a good in a really fucked up situation?" She admitted quietly after a prolonged breath. "When they had been appalled at what had happened to me, they made me feel seen and maybe a little validated," She let out a small sigh as she pivoted from where she was sitting to face her cousin. "When I came back, I really did think it would all be okay, you know? Like if I just found you and Luna then everything would go back to the way it should be. It might not have been the plan, but we could pivot? I could adjust. I could be adjustable. I know I never really had a good track record of that in the past, but we'd figure it out. Only, Luna never really cared about me like that. I was just a chapter in her book. A mistake she had no problem moving on from and this place, filled with people I thought would be my friends and neighbors, were kind of awful. I never had people outwardly hate me before or be mean, which I know makes me sound privileged as fuck and I probably was. But, whenever everyone seemed to just expect me to get over it, move on and figure out all this vampire stuff all on my own, Lo and Dilan had been the ones who said hey, it's okay to take a moment for yourself. Grieve or something? So, that's what's this was supposed to be is all. Less fun as much as making space I suppose? As cliché as that sounds now that everyone is doing it for the lyrics of Defying Gravity. But, it was supposed to be something. You know, if they hadn't forgotten about it and all," Her shoulders lifted and fell into a small shrug.

She didn't say anything when he told her that she deserved a lot. She had a feeling whatever she could say wouldn't exactly be the best contribution. Not when the idea of hope, a mentality she once had clung so strongly to, felt almost toxic now. "They do. But, it's okay. I'm sort of used to it now," She admitted with another small shrug. "Jonah, it's okay," Her brow eyes met his as she gave him a genuine and reassuring smile. "Jake started his speech with 'I’d tell you it starts with F' and there might not have been a 'U'- his speech was actually kind of nice despite it sort of sounding like some political advisor's stance on civility. But, I'm pretty sure I'm still one of his least favorite people in this room. Aaliyah told me when I first turned to eat oranges to stop me from burning in the sun and I was nearly fried to a crisp, so I'm sure that will come up at some point too. My own best friend, last year on my birthday, told me she was scared of me, when I lost empathy. Ken's told me to my face that just because I'm friends with Leyla doesn't mean that he has to be mine, and the list goes on and on. The people here don't like me and it's okay." She didn't particularly like herself either, so at least they had something in common. The corner of her lips itched up into a hint of a smile, however deprecating, at the thought.

"You didn't make me cry, Jonah. I cried because I realized that another year has gone by. Another birthday and, despite being back for three years, I still can't shake this feeling that I should have stayed dead. I'm not trying to freak you out by admitting that, by the way. It's just my life seemed better before. I was better before. At least I liked me better and the majority of people I knew seemed to too for that matter. And that's not to say that I don't have good things going. I love Ben, so much so, and I would have never had the chance to fall in love with him if I hadn't come back. But, I also wish I came back as a human and not this." Not as some freak of nature. It was ironic really, how as a human she used to see vampires as beautiful. She had been in complete and utter awe of them, only to realize, that she might have been one of the few people who had genuinely felt that way after turning. "I cried because three birthdays have gone by and not much has changed for me. I still don't know what the fuck I'm doing. My body still seems to be rejecting what I've become and, even if it wasn't, it's not like I have a lot of guidance when it comes to figuring it out. People are still calling me a monster, a bitch and a whole other slew of names. And, while Dilan and you came to check on me, no one defended me. Not when I was called an 'entitled asshole'. That's not me criticizing you either, I hope you know, even though I know you might take it as another way you messed up, when its not. I didn't ask you to come to my defense and I probably was being an entitled asshole. But, I cried because I was upset with my life and, in part, myself. While, I'm hiding because this was about the place I could find to have a moment to do what this whole party was supposed to be about to begin with- grieve the death of the girl I lost and get over myself," She shrugged once more.

"So," She reached out and gave his hand another small squeeze. "Don't feel bad, okay? Or feel like you can't participate in White Elephant anymore. It was never about a silly game to begin with."

.

That, her not contesting or declining the offer to drink without a glass, gave away a lot into how Bri was feeling, and all it did was make Jonah slump lower into the seat. "You were thinking it could be fun. There's no way to predict the mess before that would led to this day not meeting your expectations. They did have the right idea, to close that chapter and celebrate your life, you should be celebrated, now and always, have a good birthday for once. You deserve a lot. People don't hate you Bri, there's a lot of love here for you tonight and always," he said softly. But he couldn't help the heavy feeling that sat on his chest, to know that he couldn't help make this different for her, that he lacked something or failed at expressing he cared for her, and perhaps in a way he did fail her. In a lot of way even. He certainly couldn't make anything better no matter how hard he tried to do so.

"I'll take that as a good thing. That's something I'm doing right tonight. Drinking. Maybe it'll help me to not be so…me." He laughed and took another long swig. While her tone indicated to that being sincere, he found it a little difficult to believe, given she was hiding was a prime indicator. But he nodded all the same, "Yeah, okay. We can stay here, I don't want to leave." Her question made him scoff, "What didn't I mess up?" he answered, "I know I made you cry, there's that. I think-" he said with a nod, solidifying it within himself as he spoke, "- I think I'm not gonna participate in White Elephant anymore. Does a resolution count if you make it before the new year? Whatever. I'm not doing it again. It's not worth to see you upset."

[cupidswurld]

last night i watched the first episode in supernatural and within 10 minutes i put it on pause because in NO way, through the 15 seasons, should anyone be happy with how dean's story ends with him dying whilst hunting

because in the 10 minutes that ive learnt about him is that he's spent his entire life fighting, and he dies FIGHTING

no satisfying narrative ends like that, especially not for one thats run for 15 years

[nnayomaise]

i think the thing that really gets me about all the "we've got to kill this guy kabru" meme redraws with mithrun is that in the very first conversation mithrun has with laios, he trusts him with, essentially the fate of the world and his life long revenge quest against the demon

[superkitten-poison]

i guess my biggest party pooper opinion on hazbin is that it feels like a bit of an oversight to have sir pentious and cherri bombs big romantic moment be him just pulling her in for a kiss when hes only ever gotten negative indication that shes into him at all. and she still asks if hes out of his mind and protests a bit when he does it. well.

[cantfightmoonlight]

“Humor is subjective, Dilan," He rolled his eyes over, not bothering to dignify her other two comments about the value of pixies and the state of the floor with a response.

It was only when she said that she thought he wanted to pretend it didn't happen that he lifted a brow. "Because you're the one who felt like you were rejected," He countered, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as if to try to will the head ache he'd surely have later back. "I didn't think anything from that night because you were intoxicated. You were not coherent enough to consent to anything and so I drove you home. Why would I bring it up again? I didn't know how you felt about it. I didn't know if you even remembered it. You could have blacked out for all I know and, while it is nothing and I repeat nothing to be embarrassed of, believe it or not, I actually do give a fuck about you and wasn't about to put you on the spot or accidentally embarrass you."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? I'm sorry my reaction wasn't to your liking? Next time, I'll make sure to rent out a squad of cheerleaders and have them on hand on the off chance a girl asks me if they can kiss me. You caught me off guard," He let out an exasperated sigh as he told her point blank. "I wasn't expecting you to ask me that so I acted momentarily surprised and then you ran off before I could even fully react just as you decided I was going to reject you before you even gave me a chance to process any of this. You're not some fucking chore, Dilan. You're not. I hate that you fucking feel that way, but I'm also not scripted in the screenplay that is your mind," He exclaimed, not bothering to his his frustration.

"Dilan," His voice lowered, softening into a deep murmur as he finally told her after a prolonged beat. "I was kidnapped for eight months. I chased after you and got jumped. I was chained to the floor of a cabin and tortured repeatedly every day to the point where pain has become comforting. I'm," His jaw tensed as he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a small step back from her as he shook his head as if to try to shove the memories clawing their way in back. "I'm not pursuing anyone right now. I literally do not have the mental bandwidth to and I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but me not making moves isn't because I don't want to or your some chore. It is because this is all I'm capable of giving right now."

"If you want more enthusiasm, you should probably look elsewhere," His gaze lowered to the ground as he moved to slip his hands into his pockets. "You deserve that. You deserve the world." She deserved to be with someone who made her happy and reacted the way she wanted them to. She deserved to be with someone who wouldn't constantly disappoint her like he already had time and time again. But, the world wasn't something he was capable of giving.

"Dilan, I think you're cute and sure I like you. Who wouldn't, but.. that right there, the I went further with a ghost than you? I can't do this right now. It's not a full stop. If it was, you'd be fine with me not saying anything in return, which I think we both know isn't the actual case here. You want me to tell you that I like you back, enthusiastically with a smile, and then what?" He asked her, despite having a feeling they both already knew the answer to that question. His voice dipped even lower than before as he admitted under his breath, "I'm not the same guy who you asked to kiss on your birthday two years ago and I know you say you know that, but I don't really think you do."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Really cause I thought jokes were suppose to be funny.” She shot back sarcastically as well. “Yes, but you never know how well the floor was cleaned or who was here before us. “Yep us pixies are valuable I guess.” Shrugging at his words before letting the subject drop. 

She hated when he called her Dilan, it always made her feel like she was in trouble with the principle rather than just using her name because he could. “I thought you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, Song. So why would I bring it up?” She explained back with a soft voice. “Yeah I did, because you didn’t seem the least bit enthusiastic to be kissing me. I don’t want it to be some fucking chore you just do because you’re obligated or fear it’ll turn things awkward if you don’t.” Feeling frustrated at his words and she let out a sigh. “You honest to god don’t get why I feel so rejected do you?” Maybe it was a boy thing or her just reading into it all too much. “How could you not?” Letting her hands drop to her sides before she looked away from him and stared at the wall. “I don’t want to have to ask you Song. I want you to kiss me because you want too, but I’m the one making all the moves here.” She complained, it was frustrating for her that it felt like she had to do everything between them. “Yes, with a less than enthusiastic yes. Song I don’t want to just kiss you to kiss you and you treat it like a chore. I want you to want to kiss me back. I don’t think that’s asking too much here.” Sighing heavily, she finally brought her eyes back to his.

“Then how do you feel? Because right now I’m getting no signals and feel crazy.” She’d spent so much time trying to read into everything that she was tired. “You kissed the ghost back still. I was there. I’m just saying you made it further with a ghost than you ever have me.” She continued on for a long moment until he brushed off her hand, she pulled it to her chest. “No, god no. But—“ She tried to explain but stopped herself from going further. “Fine. I like you. Full stop there.” Shutting up after that and she looked up at him waiting for some kind of response from him. 

[theswedishpajas]

The man truly can’t take a genuine compliment 🙄