#and then you erase your memories and forget it all bc it is too painful

[jewishregulus]

i think it’s time for a dormary renaissance

[nalyra-dreaming]

finally getting around to rewatching iwtv w a bit more of a critical lens (since the first time i was just getting seduced by the story :p) and i might be vvv late to this but! im so bamboozled by the details of armand and his memory wiping? Louis de “we keep the damage to remember the damage” du lac asking to forget? After a SHOWER in his burnt body? And if he did forget then wouldnt he just immediately be like “wtf why am i covered in burns?”

armands lying then, but if the s1 drop took years (iirc) for louis to recover and was tended to by claudia, for louis to forget the attempt happened wouldnt armand have to wipe the event AND entire subsequent years of his life healing from it?That seems like a lot to erase is he that powerful? If he is, why were daniel’s memories of armand talking to him popping back up? Does armand just have more control over louis bc he’s with him all the time? What are your thoughts on the extent of armands abilities? also im not sure if they just didnt show it, but do u think its implied that armand starved louis from both blood and drugs for the week so the guy was in pain, out of his coffin, hungry and in withdrawal 😭

The drop in 1x05 did not take years to heal, it took a few months.

But you are correct, re that first memory wipe - I don't think it happened after the burn. I think that happened a few years later. There is no year said, and as you noted, it would be quite weird if Louis would have still been burnt...

And so yes, I do think that Armand wiped a few years off Louis' mind.

And yes, Armand is a very powerful spell and mind gift user - the erasure is more a tweak though I think, a hidden trigger - the memories are still there, but he cannot access them. I mean, otherwise they wouldn't be able to recover them.

I think Louis' memories have been popping up at times - that is why he has been inviting journalists again and again after all! - but Armand is there to "fine tune". And we see that implied in the show, Louis having breakdowns, and then totally fine next evening. Louis being up during the day, burning his arm... and then suddenly needing to sleep when Armand wants him to. As Assad said, Armand is constantly manipulating and spinning that net.

As per the drugs and Armand letting Louis go through withdrawal to get him off them... that is an aspect to it all, yes.

Armand put Louis cold turkey, so to say. But... as Louis said in the fight with Armand, there's also the "gremlin or the good nurse" aspect. And we see that later on, after the trial, too, when Armand lets Louis suffer in that coffin, starving. Because Armand could have pulled him out earlier, but he let him suffer a bit instead.

That is something Armand does, canonically - he passes judgement and enforces it, too. That is very much ingrained in him, and something he doesn't fully give up later on either.

He does what he thinks is best, and what he thinks is appropriate.

And - in addition and unfortunately... his emotions get in the way.

[memeticsdivision]

EDGY ASK MEME: 24, 23, 10, 9

answering for moratorium cast in general bc these r some tasty questions (warning: it gets so long . i love to yap)

9) Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC? i JUST answered this one today on discord teehee .

mor: lyric: literally all of me and the devil. sorry. cheating. just all of it. quote: “a mother is like god in the eyes of a child” (the crow) or "the people in the mirrors. they see it all! what's really going on." (silent hill origins)

cernunnos: lyric: “call me a seed of evil, but whats that mean if im convinced within your mind?” (cant be erased by jt machinima) quote: “the only me is me. are you sure the only you is you?” (PT) or “they say when you meet somebody that looks just like you, you die.” (i forget the source)

fenris: lyric: “the dreams in which im dying are the best ive ever had” (mad world tears for fears) or “could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man” (disorder by joy division) quote: "i guess i really don't care if it's dangerous or not. i’m going to town either way." (silent hill 2) or "i don't like mirrors. it's almost like there's an unknown world right on the other side, and the person staring at me isn't really me, just an imitator." (silent hill 3) 10) What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC? i think an AU where fenris and cernunnos switch places – so fenris being a copy of cernunnos and cernunnos being a reality bender – would be pretty interesting. i've thought about it occasionally, and things would definitely be similar but play out completely differently. for example port rosnu would have been the result of unchecked anger and trauma rather than a desperate need to forget and repress trauma, and fenris would probably be a copy of what cernunnos perceives as the "weak" parts of themself rather than the "bad", which they would embrace rather than reject as a defense mechanism, and his motives for bringing cernunnos back to port rosnu would be completely different. but going into a swap au between these two would be going down a HUUUGGEE rabbit hole that i won't go into here LOL. but its interesting, if i had the time and people were interested i'd definitely go further into it ............... also a bendy and the ink machine au 23) What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express? for fenris, his is grief, especially the idea of moving through it. facing his grief is terrifying because the memories he has are too painful and the idea of letting go means acknowledging they exist. mor's creation wasn't really to escape his grief, but it became a fairly convenient way to do it. his way of expressing that grief is . well . how his life has basically become as frozen as he is in the night his parents died. because of his inability to face his grief, he can never move forward in his life. fenris cannot enjoy the present when he's stuck in the past, and because of that, he can't change. grief is the epitome of change, as so often, grief is when something disappears from your life, and part of the process of moving past it is accepting the change and adapting to it. this is his entire character arc. there's a reason why his tarot card is the death card, both reversed and upright cernunnos' hardest emotion to process is fear. it makes them feel weak, so they try to be feared. they're like a cornered animal biting and clawing to stay safe, and it's not a coincidence the mask they wear is that of a prey animal. it's intimidating, they wear it to be less human, since twisting the innocence often ascribed to a deer into something scary and monsterous is a common horror trope, but it's still a prey animal, it had to die for cernunnos to have its skull in the first place. something hunted it, cornered it, and killed it, something cernunnos tries to imitate but does a poor job at it despite what it may seem. lastly mor's is love. she feels incredibly guilty for the abuse fenris' mother inflicted on him. she wants to atone for it because she genuinely does love him. but mor isn't human. she's what he wished his mother was, but she's also what he felt she was, terrifying, controlling, and someone who continues to haunt his life years after she died. she's like a monster in the closet for him. mor's form of love is kind of twisted as a result, she loves fenris, she wants to do good by him and show him the love she feels he deserves, but she's also profoundly selfish. she loves him, but in a way that leads her to make the exact same mistakes that his mother did that she swore not to repeat 24) What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

this is a very interesting question to answer for moratorium, and the characters in it in general. i've always said that a key part of fenris' life (listing him specifically, since he's the source of literally everything that happens in moratorium) is that everything that happens was inevitable. even if things didn't happen the way they did, he would ultimately end up right back where it ends in some way or another. say fenris did not kill his parents at 15 in a house fire he accidentally caused. say the fight that triggered it never happened. say they lived and their lives continued as normal. eventually, he would've snapped. fenris could never fully relate or be indoctrinated into his parent's radical, conservative beliefs on society, and the amount of neglect and abuse he experienced never would have changed, because his parents were incapable of change. his mother always believed she was right, and constantly fabricated her own reality to have more and more reasons to convince herself that her worldview is right and that she can never be wrong in anything she does. and his father had no backbone to argue despite the hints that he too was miserable and followed along with whatever she wanted. their home was an echo chamber of resentment, a family of people constantly pushing and pulling at each other and bound together by the very idea that they're family, so they have to stand by each other even as they do nothing but hurt each other, and they're all so bound up by their bitterness that they repress that none of them will ever stick up for themselves and explicitly say something needs to change. so, eventually he would have snapped and probably pulled the trigger himself, so to speak. fenris probably would've ended up killing his parents, and this time it would have been intentional, or one of them probably would've ended up killing the other. their lives were one big boiling pot constantly waiting for the time it inevitably boiled over and once it did it would never have been pretty. so, as much as the idea of alternative paths that could potentially change their lives is interesting, the only change that could possibly happen is his parents not dying on the night they did, meaning he was never orphaned and never got the chance to escape the echo chamber and be exposed to the "normal world" that made him realize how abnormal his was. but they would have died eventually. eventually someone was going to snap because the way they were living their lives was unsustainable. thing's would have happened the same way, just differently

[pinkbelugacollective]

only in my old age does it hit how awful of a decision it was for angel to not only transplant the fang gang into a timeline where connor lives, but erase their memories too! it’s like the irreparable damage in season four was merely amplified. of COURSE angel doesn’t feel like his struggle’s getting him any closer to shanshu because he keeps not DEALING with this shit. he’s outchea changing timelines, wiping memories, rewinding days, etc. of COURSE he still harbors resentment against wesley bc the motherfucker’s repressed his feelings of both love and hatred towards him because how DARE one of his closest male friends try to STEAL his child and raise him on his own iNSTEAD OF WITH ANGEL HIMSELF???

and not to mention gunn/fred! they raised that boy for months! they played mom and dad while angel was hallucinating at the bottom of the ocean and wesley was enjoying his dark’ness with lilah AND tryna bring angel back to the surface, and lorne??? lorne clocked that boy’s crazy! angel, in his inability to deal with his grief and loss, stripped his team of their OWN ability to deal with their grief and loss. because THEY deserved to grieve too! wesley deserved to grieve his ousting from the group AND THE FACT THAT HIS PROPHECY FUCKING CAME TRUE. fred should have been able to grieve the crumbling of her relationship with gunn, her shame of not thinking she’s ‘champion’ enough, and the decisions she made in the throes of the literal apocalypse and the revelation that one of her key abusers was a trusted confidant. gunn should have been able to grieve the death of the son that was not his but the one he DID look after, and the relationship he ended after years of feeling helpless himself with no one caring for his needs and declining mental health.

connor was a bitch. his entire existence outside of when he was a baby was the bane of everyone’s existence, BUT HE WAS THEIR CHILD. THEY ALL TOOK TURNS RAISING HIM AND LOVING HIM. they should have been able to grieve not only his death but all the what-have-could-haves!

the tragedy of ats is that the writing was so fucking bad, it inadvertently made angel, the hero, the BIGGEST clown in the show by never allowing him to truly and honestly deal with his pain, and by extension, his team’s pain. the memory wipe was paint on rotting plaster. it wasn’t even half the fix-it angel thought it was, and all it did was diminish the suffering the fang gang had to go thru. it’s always angelus this, angelus this, wolfram and hart this wolfram and hart that, it’s never ANGEL, PLEASE DEAL. and it’s fucking tragic, because after eight seasons of content, he DID deserve to have some respite, to deal with his pain, and finally be put to rest instead of selfishly taking from his friends what only a god could do.

and angel was never a god, and yet he had access to god’s powers. instead of letting this man fucking DEAL with his shit with his friends’ support, joss instead flipped the story on its ass. deaths and unreconciled losses and relationships everywhere, until angel was left to what? fight eternally?

lmao the man never actually left hell, and his poor friends got dragged into it with him. this is why we never need a buffyverse reboot ever again. imagine giving one of the central characters from your original show a whole ass show of his own, and not even writing a conclusion for him. all these years and for what? so he could hurt lorne, watch the others die, and become the very bastard buffy called him out to be thru andrew? it’s grimdark shit from hell and i hope we never have to see a reboot or continuation of it bc IF we did, and angel was STILL doing his clown shit, then buffy WOULD be the one to send his ass to hell again bc all the story would have proved is that you can put a soul in a man, but you can’t make him like it. and how’s THAT for a metaphor? forget trying to atone for your fucking sins, cuz your ass is grass and goin straight back to hell regardless ��🏽‍♀️

angel im so sorry joss that dumb fuck did this to you. you were a whiny cunt, but you were loved, and i have every faith that you finally made it out of this hell 😭

[lieutenantwilliamrusso]

It Will Come Back S2 6

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

Werewolf Stalker! Billy x Female Reader

A/N: I promise they're fuckin' next chapter you've all waited long enough---- reposting bc it didn't show up in the tag :((((

Billy thinks this might be what dying feels like. His heart feels like it’s squeezing out of his chest, his bones ache with the pain of feeling you pull away. His breaths heave as he makes his way back to his car, resisting the urge to let his own tears fall. He makes it inside, starting the car and listening to the soft hum of the engine before he breaks. He lets loose a sob, the force of it making his body shake. The tears soon blind him and suddenly he’s not pulling in any air at all, and he distantly realizes he must be having a panic attack.

His nerves are shot, all of his emotions finally pouring forth in a violent wave. Watching you drink to forget him, trying to shoo him away for someone else. Your pitiful expression as you sobbed into his shoulder last night. The way you kissed him this morning and then sent him away. And the guilt. It buries him, the guilt of lying to you, hurting you.

Billy rides out the outburst for a while, until he thinks he can finally move again. Then he puts the car in drive, and goes to the only other person he can talk to right now.

-

When Frank opens the door Billy just stares at him, unsure of what to say. When Frank pulls him inside and offers the open beer in his hand Billy realizes he doesn’t have to say anything at all, and he’s grateful for it.

When they sit, Frank on the couch and Billy on the big leather recliner, Frank finally speaks up.

“She still mad at you?”

“Yeah, man.” Billy croaks.

“Damn. Well, if you’re sure about her, you’ll just have to wait her out.” Frank reasons.

“I’m sure. And that’s the plan.”

“Come on. Don’t think about it for a while, let’s just hang out.”

Easier said than done, Billy thinks.

-

You don’t get out of bed until well into the afternoon, when the pain in your head begins to subside. The pain in your heart doesn’t go anywhere, though. Despite this, you pull yourself out of the warm embrace of your sheets and check in with your friends, letting them know you survived. You put together a quick meal and shower away any last remnants of the previous night. You’re exhausted, emotions and hangover draining any last energy left in your body. So you relax, putting on your comfiest silk pajamas and watching TV on the couch while you eat. You vigilantly try to ignore the memory of Billy’s face when you kicked him out again, the thought too painful to dwell upon.

You hope he’s doing okay, even contemplate asking him, but you know it would start something neither of you need right now. Boundaries with Billy are such an easy thing to erase, to step right over if the feelings are right. Despite how he’s hurt you, you shouldn’t lead him into thinking he has a chance of winning you back. You don’t want to keep hurting him. But that’s the problem. He does have a chance. In all the ways your relationship is non conventional, it’s also the most cherished and cared for you’ve ever felt. You miss him constantly, the ache not ebbing even when you’re angry at him.

Sure, maybe he lied. And sure, you’re not positive you can commit to being this man’s, this werewolf’s girlfriend for the rest of your life because of your fear of it not working out, but maybe you can try forgiveness. You can give him that. One more chance to build trust before you make up your mind. As pushy as Billy is, he gives you space when you need it and cares for you when you can’t do it yourself. You have to give him that.

You decide to sleep on the decision, thinking you’ll be calmer in the morning, less bone-deep tired and more willing to do emotional labor. When you do finally head to bed, you’re out like a light, a dreamless sleep overtaking you.

-

The burning inside of Billy doesn’t get better. All it does is eat more and more of him, melting his insides like acid. Spending time with Frank just means he can’t act on it. So he begs off, saying he’s going to go home and sleep it away. And that’s true, but he’s not going back to his penthouse apartment on the other side of town. No, he’s going to you, breaking in when the moon is at its highest to creep into your bedroom and watch you sleep.

He pads softly across the carpet, needing to have his eyes on you. The hidden cameras aren’t enough, he has to be here, has to lean down and smell your hair, running the strands through his fingers, feeling the soft texture. He has to watch you breathe, has to know you’re here, alive, safe.

Billy sits on the floor, one leg outstretched, the other bent, supporting an arm. He’s close enough to savor your scent, close enough to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t, afraid he won’t be able to leave. So he watches, still and content, until the sun begins to rise and you begin to stir with the first rays of light.

- You wake up feeling refreshed, better than you have in a long time. You get dressed for work and grab some breakfast, deciding that you’ll let Billy know you want to talk after you're home later. It seems simultaneously ridiculous and absolutely right. Yesterday you were entirely unwilling to give him a chance. Today, you realize that line of thinking isn’t really going to work. You can’t scrape Billy Russo off of you, like he’s become some essential part of your body, and all going without it is going to is hurt you both.

You still have the fear, the thoughts that tell you he might hurt you again, but you reason that you can’t assume the worst, not until you’re given a reason to. So you go to work, mind clear and quiet for the first time in days.

-

Billy doesn’t go to work. He sits on the expensive leather couch in his living room and tries not to sob again. It’s fucking insane to him, how sick he is with need. He didn’t cry when he was at war, when he saw his men die in front of him. He doesn’t cry over his mother. But you? You’ve ruined him and he can’t even come anywhere close to hating you for it because all he wants to do is hold you. But you won’t let him. So he sits, staring straight ahead, trying his best to hold it together until the evening light rolls in and suddenly the sickness overtakes him, and he’s calling out to you, begging.

“Please. Please, Y/N.”

- You hear Billy’s voice as you’re leaving work, and the sound of it stops you cold. He sounds like he’s in pain, voice a deep croak. You immediately panic, thinking he’s hurt, maybe even dying.

“Billy? What’s wrong?” You ask, heart beginning to race.

“Please don’t make me live without you.” He groans, and your eyes widen.

You didn’t think it was this bad for him. You know Billy cares about you, but you hadn’t realized the depth of his pain, only focused on your own and how you’d stay away from him. You suddenly feel terrible, like you’ve been missing the rest of the picture for a while now. Billy’s voice solidifies your decision from earlier, and you start walking, calling an Uber to take you to Billy’s penthouse.

When you arrive, you realize you’ve never actually been to Billy’s place, but the concierge lets you up all the same. It almost makes you smile, the idea that he’d made sure you could come see him, even before you'd ask. But you’re on a mission, narrowly focused on getting to him, on starting to erase the pain you’re both feeling. It’s a known fact by now that you and Billy Russo aren’t getting away from each other, and trying to force it is only prolonging the suffering.

You reach his front door, hand shaking a little as you reach up to ring the bell.

“Bill?” You call, dropping your hand.

The door doesn’t open.

“Where are you?” You ask him through the bond, growing worried.

He doesn’t answer. Now your whole body is shaking, breath coming in rapid bursts.

Where the fuck is he? Maybe he’s not home. But he would have answered, right? Your mind races.

“Billy!” You yell. No answer.

You learned a lot of things in college. Math, how to write a good essay, and most importantly, how to pick a lock. A frat boy that had a crush on you had taught you, aiming to impress, and you’re suddenly very grateful for the information. You stick a hairpin from your purse into the lock and get to work.

A few minutes later there’s a loud click, and you pat yourself on the back for retaining the trick. You throw open the door and race down the hall, eyes flying across every corner, praying he’s here. When you reach the living room, you finally get what you’re searching for.

He’s there, slumped on the couch, clothes in complete disarray as he heaves, sobs falling from his throat rapidly. The sound makes you want to vomit, wracked with guilt. You move to kneel beside him, hands grasping his wrists.

“Billy, please look at me.” You beg.

He slowly removes his arms from in front of his face, eyes wide with surprise.

“How’d you get in here?” He asks, eyes wide.

“I picked the lock after you talked to me.” You explain.

“I didn’t say anything to you.” He says, and a new pang of hurt goes through you as you realize he didn’t even mean to talk to you. He was in so much pain it got through anyways.

“You did. Didn’t you hear me answer?”

“Thought it was all in my head.” Billy says, voice faint.

He moves to sit up, and you follow, settling next to him on the couch.

“No, baby it wasn’t.” You say softly, afraid if you speak any louder you’ll break the tenuous calm.

You can tell he’s ashamed, unready to let on just how emotional you make him. You grasp his face between your hands, eyes meeting his as you speak again.

“I think we should stop hurting each other.” You say. “So Billy Russo, I promise I will be here tomorrow.” You finish, getting straight to the point.

He just stares at you, like he doesn’t believe it, or worse, doesn’t deserve it.

“Why?” He whispers, and you think this is what shatters your heart completely.

Before you can open your mouth to answer, there’s a loud banging on the front door. You try to catch a glimpse down the hall, but there’s nothing.

“I’ll go see who it is.” You say, but Billy reaches out for you, hands now wrapped around your wrists, unwilling to let you go.

It turns out you don’t have to fight him, because you hear the door swing open a second later, and a gruff voice calls out.

“Bill!”

“Who’s that?” You ask Billy, as the man enters the room.

He looks surprised to see you there, his brown eyes widening a fraction as he takes in you and Billy clinging to each other.

“What are you doing, Frankie?” Billy asks.

“Something didn’t feel right when you left earlier. I came to see if I was wrong, but it's worse than I thought, pal.”

“What is?” You break in, eyeing the man who you now realize is Billy’s best friend, Frank.

Frank sighs, leaning against the plush leather chair across from the couch.

“Did he tell you? About the bond?”

You nod, still not following.

“Well, when you stay away from each other on purpose and when you don’t, uh, mate, the bond will, for lack of a better way to explain it, think it’s been rejected. Billy started the bond, so it’ll make him sick physically. It won’t kill him but it’ll hurt like hell. Thought I saw the signs earlier. I guess I was right.” Frank finishes.

You look at Billy, at the way he looks weak and pale and a cold prick of fear goes down your spine.

“How do we fix it?” You ask Frank, refusing to turn away from Billy.

“Just be with him. Talk to him through the bond. Maybe a little— you know, won’t hurt.” Frank finishes, face a little red from the suggestion.

You frown, nodding as you take it in. You didn’t know this would happen to Billy, but you feel responsible all the same. But you can fix it, and you aren’t going to pass up the chance to do so. Determined, you stroke Billy’s cheek before turning to Frank.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Not that I can think of. If you need anything he’s got my number.” Frank replies.

You thank him and then he’s gone, shutting the front door softly. That wasn’t exactly how you’d envisioned meeting Billy’s best friend, but you don't stop to think about it too hard. You curl up next to Billy, moving to wrap your arms around his middle, pressing as much of yourself as you can against him. He moves to do the same, moving in to press his nose to your hair and breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, eyes suddenly watering.

“I started it.” He replies.

“Still. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“You promise you’re staying?” He asks softly.

“Promise.” You tell him through the bond.

You stay like that until the sun creeps beneath the skyline outside, and Billy’s breath has slowed, lost to sleep. Afraid to be away from him, you settle in to spend the might on the plush couch, curled around each other.

[sabxism]

Daisies

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (Hanahaki!au)

Warnings: Blood, Somewhat graphic description of death, probably a shit ton of typos bc it's 3 am and I'm not ab to proofread this

Summary: You're so in love with Poe Dameron it's killing you. Literally.

A/N: this is half vent piece, half i've-wanted-to-write-this-for-a-while. also i changed how the disease "works" just a little bit for plot purposes.

You used to like daisies. That was before you were staring them down every few hours, leaned over the sink, blood dripping from your cracked lips.

You used to like Poe Dameron. That was before he started killing you.

Then again, you guess you still did. That’s why you were in this situation, after all.

At first, you’d ignored the signs of what you’d hoped wasn’t love - swallowed your words, caught the butterflies in a net and tossed them outside.

But it was getting harder and harder to do so.

You didn’t have much longer. You could tell.

Leia could too.

She’d first approached you after you’d run out of a meeting to hurl up seeds and blooms, waiting outside your quarters for you with a painful expression of pity and concern written across her face. You wish she’d erased it and just let you be.

But she wouldn’t - how could she? You were dying, right in front of her, refusing to take the help she offered.

To be fair, the help she was telling you to seek out would ruin you just the same as the thorns scratching at your lungs.

Getting that surgery and forgetting him would suffocate you more than any vines wrapped around your esophagus could.

You couldn’t do it. You knew you should. After all, this whole mess was your fault anyways. Catching feelings for your best friend wasn’t anyone else's fuck up but yours.

But you didn't think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let someone take the flowers out, and with them, any trace of Poe. The real problem is that you wouldn’t technically be living with yourself. Not anymore. You weren’t really yourself without him. That was what terrified you, what ate you up with guilt.

Because you knew he felt the same way.

Well, not the same way. But you knew that he relied on you, leaned on you.

And soon enough, he’d fall over. Because you'd be gone.

It was killing you. In more ways than one.

“Please, Lieutenant, just think about it,” the General pleads with you as the two of you walk to a debriefing meeting.

“I’ve thought about it,” you respond truthfully. You had. Still do. All the time. “I don’t like it.”

You go to enter the conference room, but her firm grip on your upper arm stops you. Hissing in pain, you whirl around, your angry expression fading as you meet her eyes. Were those tears?

“How do you think I like watching you wither away?”

You smile sadly at the irony of the sentence. It quickly fades as you process what she said. You truly hadn’t considered what this must look like to her. She must think you stubborn, too prideful to ask for help. Brash and inconsiderate.

“Don’t do that,” she says, tapping a finger to your forehead. “I don’t, and you know that. But I can’t say I understand why you won’t do it.”

“I just…” you trail off, silencing your thoughts as a group of runway techs pass by. Once they’ve cleared your vicinity, you continue, “It’s the same either way.”

“How so?” She isn’t mocking you. She’s asking, genuinely. Somehow, that’s worse.

“I die either way. Or at least, a part of me does. If I don’t get the surgery, I get more time with him - maybe a few months? It’ll still be me. If I...if I do get it, it won’t be me. Not really. It takes away all memories of him. I’ve known him for too long. I’ll be a completely different person, and the worst part is that I won’t even know.” you pause, eyes growing misty. “And neither will he. He won’t understand why I’m suddenly introducing myself to him like a new acquaintance.”

Leia’s eyes soften in understanding. “I see.” She pauses, taking your hand and covering it with her other one. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but-”

“Technically, you can. You outrank me. You outrank everyone.”

“Like you’ve ever really listened to anything I’ve said,” she quips, her words tugging the corners of your mouth upward slightly. “But I think you should reconsider. Or, you know…” she gestures vaguely, and a knot ties itself in your stomach.

“I can’t do that. He’s…” you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. “If he outright says he doesn’t, I’ll collapse right there. I can’t let him see that.”

Leia’s heart hurts for you. You shouldn’t be dealing with this. Not as young as you are. Not as bright as your future was.

She doesn’t say anything else, just nods in concession and follows you inside. She notes how Poe hopefully looks at you, and how you purposefully avoid his eyes. The upset on his face is clear as glass.

It happened on a Tuesday.

You’d collapsed in your quarters, drowning as one of the thorns punctured a lung and it filled with blood.

Poe found you.

You wish he hadn’t. It would’ve been easier.

But things never really did go your way, did they?

tags: @bucky-j-barnes @beydameron @staarshines

[minijenn]

Keys to the Kingdom Preview

Despite Moving Anxiety and whatnot I am off and on working on the next chapter. Here’s a snippet of it, not focused on the Pooh stuff as I’m not quite there yet, but some soft bonding between Sora and Namine bc everybody can use a little of that in their lives: 

***

“Could… can you do it?” he asks, the one question she’d been dreading most of all. The fact that this is something he actually wants, something he thinks he needs, when it’s just about the last thing that will ever truly help him. “I don’t… I-I can’t keep dealing with all of this.” His tears come quickly, his hands tightly gripping his mug to the point that his claws scratch its surface. “It’s all so much–too much. Even now that Maleficent is finally gone, I-I can’t stop thinking about what she did to me… I can’t stop thinking about what the master might do to get me away from all of you. I’m so sad and scared all of the time, a-and I just… I hate it! I don’t want to be like this anymore! I just… I… please, Naminé… Just… just take it all away… please…”

Naminé is nearly on the verge of tears herself after hearing all of this. She sighs again, her hand trembling as she reaches across the table to place it overtop of Sora’s. She finally meets his gleaming golden gaze, her voice steady as she tells him the truth, knowing he deserves nothing less and wishing she could give him so much more. “I’m sorry, Sora… but… I can’t…”

“B-but… but you said-”

“I know what I said,” Naminé says, ashamed of such a rash mistake. “And… technically, I can do it, but… I shouldn’t. Vanitas was right when he said wiping your memories won’t change what’s happening to your heart. You’d still look the way you do, you’d still be under Xehanort’s power. You just… wouldn’t know why. And neither would anybody else who wants to help you. But… you know who would remember everything? The Organization would. I can’t interfere with their memories like I can for the lights. If I did this… well, it’d be just like the glamor spell Donald cast on you; nothing more than a temporary fix to a much bigger problem.”

“I don’t care!” Sora protests, rising from his seat. A few stray spikes rise with him, a testament to the anguish that Naminé knows she’s painfully ill-equipped to truly heal him from. “I know I should be happy now that I’m back here with everyone, but I’m not, I can’t be as long as I know what’s coming. But… if I’m able to forget about what’s coming, even for just a little while, maybe I finally can be.”

“You won’t be,” Naminé warns earnestly. “Trust me, Sora; messing with memories only leads to trouble. It did the last time I was forced to do this, and it definitely would if I did it again. Think about it: if the others lose their memories about what’s happening to you, then all of the progress they’ve made in trying to help you will be completely undone. We’ll be no closer to saving you than we were from the very start.”

“W-well… can’t you just erase my memories then?” Sora pleads. “The rest of them don’t have to forget, they could-”

“They do,” Naminé shakes her head. “It’s either all or nothing. That’s just how my powers work, Sora. I can’t just impact your memories alone. And even if I could… I wouldn’t. I know you think that erasing your memories would erase all of the pain you’re feeling, but… that pain would come back sooner or later, it always does. And once it does, it’d be even worse because you wouldn’t even know where it’s coming from. I want to help you, Sora, so much, but… I can’t, not like this.” She stands, a few tears finally slipping down her cheeks as she approaches him slowly, wanting to hug him, though of course, her own nerves hold her back, just as they always do. “The only thing I can do is just… be here to offer you a shoulder to cry on…”

Sora takes that shoulder almost immediately, catching Naminé off guard as he suddenly steps forward and pulls her into a tight, desperate embrace. For as surprised as she is, she gently returns it, doing what she can to provide him the comfort he’s so clearly craving right now. “Sometimes… I wish I had power over time instead of just memories,” she says quietly as she continues to let him pour his grief out. “Because if I did, then I’d go back and undo every horrible thing you’ve been through. What’s happened to you, Sora… it isn’t fair and it isn’t right. I know you might think you’ve done something wrong and that you deserve all of this, but you don’t. Someone as kind and brave and good as you should never have to suffer the way you have. But even if none of us can change the past… at least we can all try to give you a better future…”

“I don’t have a future…” Sora almost says, a miserable thought that’s been lingering at the back of his mind for quite some time now. Because by all accounts, his master has already decided his future for him, a future he doesn’t want, but has no choice but to accept. A future that he’s not even sure his friends, for as courageous and hopeful as they all might be, can even do anything to change. 

But instead of telling Naminé any of that, he pulls back, wiping a few of his tears away as he offers her a wavering, largely fake smile. “Thanks…” he says, deciding to accept her final verdict. Realizing that she’s right, in many ways, that taking away his memories wouldn’t do a thing to take away the pain that plagues him inside and out each day. “I… I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s ok,” Naminé says warmly, patiently. “I shouldn’t have ever suggested it in the first place. I guess that’s something you and I have in common: we both tend to make some… pretty reckless decisions when we’re stressed.”

“You can say that again,” Sora says with a small, yet genuine chuckle, one that Naminé is more than happy to share with him.

[ofmythsandmadness]

to be called beautiful | d.h.

❛ do you ever miss, having someone around to love you?❜

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SUMMARY: vigilantes!au. you push the boundaries of your relationship, and ask for a wish you know won't be given back. (or — it's late, and after another night of patrol, loneliness sets in deep.) WARNINGS: slightly nsfw??? mentions to sex, no descriptions. it's not a sexual story, just a part of an inner monologue. WORD COUNT: 2.6k+ NOTES: reposting this in hopes it shows up this time (pls pls pls i'm gonna cry). i've been writing a whole other series that is a totally different writing style, but i've been trying to work out my emotions in small, focused pieces like this one when i can't focus. i might develop this into a small ficlit series of it's own, bc i think it's kinda fun — but we'll see how this goes.

THE BEAST THAT IS YOUR LONELINESS has been your burden for too long to say.

It's hold on you is a familiar ache, one you've felt for years, like a chronic tight tugging on your heart that refuses to give in no matter what you try. But you still refuse to name it for fear of coming to terms with the implications of it all. That you're really alone in this life and you're terrified of what that means and the fact that you can't have what your childhood stories promised would be yours.

Like the fool you are, you cling to the idea that it's just passing notions. You'll get over it one day. The flitting daydreams of a fairytale romance better fit for a vanilla Hallmark flick suck, but one day they won't hurt so bad. You'll numb and find a way to fill the void. And you try, you really do, pushing it down for the quick release of meaningless acts and walks of shames and cold bedsheets.

Sex is a toxic friend. You choose it's pull when your heart aches most and the loneliness begs for your breath to the point where every gasp of air is a privilege, not the bare minimum. It's not what you crave. There's no romance, no love. It's a trade and one that always leaves you feeling robbed of something you're not sure you ever even had.

You rarely remember their names. You know they probably won't remember yours. And why would they? The shudders, the whimpers, the cold moans that amount to nothing but crumbs of a supposedly passionate act only pass an hour, then they're gone. Or you're gone, if you're lonely enough to risk it. A bit of fun, a breath of pink and white and the feeling of someone pulling you closer, begging for your skin against theirs.

And then, it's all grey again. And you're alone at your apartment, washing your body free of the marks some stranger dared to press into your wilting skin, wondering what it would feel like for a lover to kiss you that same way. Running your fingers over every inch that has been caressed by so many faceless guests, trying to hold yourself in the way your foolish heart pounds for. But it's never enough. Your hands don't cup your flesh, don't mould and kiss and promise the carefully knitted lies any lover had dealt you in the past. And you're as cold as ever when they fall back to your sides. Nothing enflames your skin like you wishes it could — like those you wish would.

It's a discontent you live with. Just as you're sure millions of others do. That's what life is; you push yourself through the day, through your mundane day job and your taxing nighttime hobbies (because you sure as hell can't claim what you do as real work if your only pay is in blood and tears). You cling to the good times that happened too long ago to remember clearly, and make the moments that you're alone with your thoughts as small as possible.

But there's no time to consider all that now.

You scrunch your face up as tight as you can, squeezing your eyes shut to the point where you see stars, exploding like confetti in some absurd black void that hides behind your lids. For a moment you hold the pose, watching the stars erupt, until the position hurts too much and you have to release.

Surroundings blur and then clear as your eyes readjust from their disassociation. You stare blearily at the random coffee shop you and your 'associate' chose for the night. It's just as generic as the last five visited, a thousand shades of brown and red and weary smiles the bored baristas wear just for a cheap check that'll barely cover their asses. It's worn and empty; no one's hear except the two of you and the workers who probably hate you for being here so late.

Normally, you would feel like an asshole staying so late. But you can't bring yourself to move, or even suggest to. It's all too heavy. And even if it's in brooding silence, you don't want to leave your partner. Not yet, you beg the universe, just a few more minutes.

And, speaking of—

"What's got you so blue today?"

You blink. Look over to him, only to see him already watching you.

There's really no point lying. He always unravels you too quickly, too easily — it's the detective in him, unravelling anyone and scooping their truths from shivering flesh. Some sort of childhood trauma response he developed into another super power.

You used to hate it. Now...if you concentrate hard enough, his sharp gaze feels like one of a lover's.

"Don't know what you mean," you tell him, foolish and flustered. "I'm just fine."

"Bullshit. You've sighed a dozen times in the last five minutes."

"Tch. No I haven't."

"Did too!"

His teeth glint, white and clashing against the full pink of his lips. You wish you could denounce all the times you wondered what it would feel like to have them graze against your keening skin — but not even all the gods could cleanse of you of those thoughts. Those desperate, pleading, melancholic memories stain; he can't see them, but you do when you look close enough. And you can't escape it, much as you try.

"Seriously, though. What's up with you?"

Your gaze falls down to your hands, eager to escape his allure, though it's not a great distraction. It only makes you more bitter, really, taking in all the flaws that litter your weaponised limbs. They're calloused from a million fights. Your knuckles are scarred, aching from wounds you reopen every other night. A thousand scars from a thousand scrapes, cuts, slashes and grazes linger on once perfect skin. You don't know how many there are, anymore, only that you wish you could wipe them off. Start over, have a clean slate. Erase all your mistakes and be beautiful again.

"I'm just tired," you lie. It's tense and pitiful; you know you've screwed it up the second the words leave your lips. "S'all."

"Ri-i-ight, and I'm the goddamn queen of England."

The absurdity of his retort makes your lips twitch. It's not enough for a smile, your self-inflicted misery makes sure of that, but it's a seed of something. "Wow. Didn't know I was in the presence of royalty."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it."

"My apologies, your highness."

"Shut up, you little shit," he grumbles, but it's as soft as you get from him. It's practically a cry of love — or your foolish mind paints it as such. You take his teasing insults as promises of adorations and his arguments are poems of lust and infatuation that tug on your heartstrings in ways you know they shouldn't.

You're partners, for crying out loud. Professional coworkers (if you call the bloody mess you two create work). You don't get to miss him, or crave him, or love him like you do.

"Something happen to you?"

You watch his own hands fold and unfold on the table. The long, delicate fingers stand out on a man like him; someone who paints himself in only sharp angles and cutting lines. But you think they match him well. They promise life. Bleed hope, even in the raised scars that lace his skin like your own. You've watched those fingers grip a blade, launch it into flesh, pull and push and dig and rip and take and committed acts of atrocity most people would run from. You know he probably thinks of his hands the same way you do. But you think they're beautiful.

"Nah. It's...it's nothing. Really."

You can't see his face, but you imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows asking for an answer you're just not willing to give. "C'mon, just tell me. Can't be that bad."

Your body laughs. You hear it from some place far away. It's cold and hoarse; you wonder how long it's been since you've heard a genuine laugh from yourself. You wonder if he notices (and wishes he did, foolishly, frivolously...).

It's probably stupid, but you go for it.

"You ever miss having someone?"

Something creaks; his chair, groaning as he shifts his weight. One of his fingers taps against his empty coffee cup; idle music for a restless soul.

"Like, in what way?"

"I..." Your nails dig into your palms. This was a mistake, but one you have to follow through with. He won't accept silence after something like that. "In the cheesy, domestic sorta way? That whole, havin' someone to come home to, someone who you can talk to, someone who..." the words stick like molasses in the back of your throat. Try as you do, they refuse to give themselves to him, so you have to substitute. "Just, someone who likes you, past your body or, or whatever."

"Oh."

"Sorry." It's your turn to shift in your seat, awkwardly searching for something to occupy yourself with as this uncomfortable energy you've created carries on. But your cup's empty, and you don't have the cash to ask for another overpriced latte. "Forget about it. Let's talk about somethin' else, yeah?"

He doesn't answer that. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if you've just crossed the line of no return. You can't bring yourself to look at him, hell your cowardice is painful enough to make you wonder if you should just make a run for it, say au revoir! to the bond you've built with this knife-obsessed robin hood and crush your heart forever.

It's tempting, and you consider it, but then he fills the silence.

"I miss Eudora sometimes."

Finally, your gaze tilts up. Your eyes meet his lips. He's not smiling anymore.

You guys don't talk about exes together. It's a forbidden topic, same as family or childhoods or the number of people that have cut you open and bled you dry for fun. It's too personal, and in this line of work, personal doesn't fly. But you know Eudora Patch, because this line of work requires a couple run ins with people like her, and because your partner in crime has never learned how to stop his emotions from bleeding into his expression.

"Not because I still love her, but y'know..." his fingers wave aimlessly. "It was nice, when it worked. I liked having someone to sleep with. In a non-sexual manner." His lip curls a little. "Guess the sex part was nice too, though."

You nod. "Yeah, I get that. It's...it was nice, having someone who knew you. Who wanted to make you feel good, not just for themselves but 'cause that sort of things matters."

"Mm."

"Y'ever consider pursuing that sort of thing?"

He shakes his head. His adamancy is a truck smashing into your heart — though you know you should have expected no less, it still hurts. "I can't. It never works, with people like us. Y'know?"

"Yeah. Makes sense." You want to say more. You probably should say more — but you doubt he wants to hear your woes about intimacy, and the pathetic ways you crave affection you probably don't deserve. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hm?"

His brows knot. "Why're you asking? Someone do somethin'?"

"What? No."

"Cause, like, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"

"I'm fine," you promise, and without thinking, you reach across the table to pat his hand. To reassure him like one would a lover. But just before your fingers meet his, the bitter reminder that he's not yours sets in and you draw back. Your hand falls a couple inches from his own. "And I can take care of myself, if I wasn't. Don't worry."

He chuckles mirthlessly. "Y'sure about that? You're still the dumbass that tripped over her own feet twice walking down an empty sidewalk, and—"

"—oh, you are such an asshole, why can't you just—"

"—so if you need someone to cut a bitch, I'm available."

You soften slightly. Try to smile, even if it's a false promise and probably hangs like a broken door on mismatched hinges. "I appreciate that. But I'm okay. Think I'm just tired, and a little lonely."

"What, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue; it speaks before you can shut your lips around it. "You're fine as a partner against crime. But you're not anything otherwise, are you?" It feels like a taunt. You hadn't meant it to be — though, maybe you had.

If he takes your jeer poorly, though, it doesn't show on his face. He's still smiling and watching you, eyes simmering with a joke you wish you were in on.

"It doesn't matter though. Having someone's too complicated, 'specially for fools like us. Sometimes it's just..." you don't have a good answer. Not one he'd want to hear, anyways. "I just miss it sometimes. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, or eat breakfast with in the mornings."

He nods slowly. "Yeah. Was nice, having another body around."

"Yeah. Ha. I," you stutter out a chuckle. Tug at your lip, nibbling at the cracked skin that comes with your long nights. "No one prepares you for how lonely adulthood is. Like, I'm half tempted to make friends with the takeout guys, just so I have a friend at all."

"We're friends."

"You know what I mean," you mumble, swallowing the bitter 'are we?' that almost makes its way off your tongue. "It was just nice when I had the time, to have a person around. Someone to like, hold hands with, or-or call me beautiful, sometimes. I-I can't remember the last time called me that, any..."

Fuck.

You hadn't meant for that last confession.

He wasn't supposed to hear that. It's too personal, too personal, too fucking personal for someone you don't even know.

Everything trembles; you're shaking like an avalanche, ready to sweep it all away under some snow drift. Never to be seen again. But you can't do that, there's no taking back the way your voice cracked as it reaches it's last word, and how your hand slips into a fist, ready to charge even though there's no punching your way out of this fumble.

You crack. Stumble out of your seat. Before he can talk you're moving, throwing a couple bills (too many for your poor wallet, you'll pay for that later) down and mumbling something about heading home. Your head's spinning and you just want to sit down again, pretend like this never happened and ask about some meaningless moment in a meaningless day that you wish could be yours and his, not just—

"—text me when you're goin' out again," you say, high and nervous. "I'll be around."

You turn.

"You don't have to leave."

"I got work tomorrow. Early."

"Thought you had the day off?"

Fuck, la deuxième acte. "Taking a shift for someone."

"Oh." He doesn't believe you. He would be a fool to. But he agrees anyways. "Okay."

"See ya, Kraken."

He doesn't answer you back. It's probably better that way.

BONUS

Many hours later, you're in bed, finally dozing off. You've rinsed off the filth of the night and resigned yourself to a barely adequate rest alone, too tired to consider what usually makes your mind race. It's been a long day; let future you contemplate all the ways you've screwed up.

Just as you're about to fall asleep, however, there's a small ping! that immediately wakes you up A notification sound reserved for only one person.

You groan but still roll over. Your heart may be a humiliated, burning mess, but it still beats for him, much as you've tried to stifle it.

kraken // 2:36 am. you available at 11p tomorrow?

kraken // 2:37 am. got word somethin going down at east docks, wanna check it out before it gets bad.

Relief is a sweet blessing. You exhale and smile into the darkness. He's still a professional, even if you seem unable to understand what that means.

you // 2:40 am. for sure. meet me at my place whenever and we can prep.

You leave it at that. Whatever he has to say after that, cannot be too important to waste your precious hours of sleep. So you roll over and shut your eyes and let yourself forget about the empty space that fills your place.

It's a decision you regret the next morning, when you wake up and realise what you missed.

kraken // 3:31 am. you ever get lonely for someone, feel free to let me know.

kraken // 3:32 am. might not make a great boyfriend, but i'll eat breakfast with you. so long as you're cooking.

A/N - I had a whole idea for two tired vigilantes (like what Diego does in season one, but partnered up) who both are really lonely and tired of life and all it's shit, and rely on each other more than they'll ever admit, and...I'll probably never write it, but this was a fun bit of that. two lonely emotionally deprived assholes who can't accept that maybe they can be loved and the person who wants to is right in front of them. :)

[in-tua-deep]

tua s1 rewatch with my roommate

episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):

I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!

Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit

“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”

“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus

“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”

I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound

Episode two:

HERR CARLSON

Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO

Five: you got anything stronger

Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????

The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it

Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg

Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.

Forgot how much I love Agnes

(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)

Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling

Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books

Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks

“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”

Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.

I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen

Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?

Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps

Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her

Aww the tow truck driver :(

I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else

Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF

Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD

Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”

Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization

Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~

ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo

Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”

Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep

OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(

Episode 3:

my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair

okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”

“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm

i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,

a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling

“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five

“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego

i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing

“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody

“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya

five having flashbacks in the car :(

did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”

five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego

“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat

luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(

“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not

sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted

“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something

“hashtag android rights” 

“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”

is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ???? 

wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up

“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit

forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets

okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh

“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus

where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????

“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”

“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther

“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at

what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego

aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song

“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them

how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh

why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY

forgot about that

is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances

diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES

you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh

[izartn]

MDZS JGY fic promt

I’m thinking about Meng Yao/Jin Guangyao and I think I would love to read a fic of him snapping in the opposite direction of his desperate grab for power and respect from his shit father. We know, thanks to JGS gruesome murder that at some point, after already being a shitty human doing murdery things, JGY snapped hard and said: “if i’m gonna do the shitty things of running this sect i’ll do them for myself and fuck you to death”. Quite literally. 

So I’d like to imagine a world where he, like, not necessary becomes a much better person; I dunno about the JZX and WWX kill plot, or about NMJ. I think he’s very set in his auto-preservating self-beneficing ways, and if you don’t really work well with that part of his chara then he’s not JGY anymore. 

But instead of being, I’ll become the highest in the cultivation world, so i will be finally respected and listened to (uhm, didnt’ work especially well did it? they never let him forget his mother profession when it was his father who was the absolute worst) he decides that while cultivation is still something to aspire to -can’t forget about his mother dying dream, also longer life and health benefits + being a hero, doing the decent thing- he realises the cultivation sect system as it is horrible. 

He was in the middle of the war, he saw it from both sides. He then went to low to high but still a servant. And it’s always blood what counts. He sees what happens to his other bastard brothers, to WWX when he decides enough is enough, and how he himself is still treated by his Sect despite his intelligence and abilities. And instead of trying to take refuge in the system, he is a bit more self-aware or inquiring; maybe he is more idealistic in some ways? But still oh so bitter, and decides to destroy the system from within.

You know what? Do it so he still rises to Leader of the Jin Sect (without prostitutes murdering and necrophilia; he is now more on the side of the common, so maybe he gets the help of Sisi or someone he knows to aid him poison his father and after he gets them a nice reward and packs them to a new life in Japan or something. Or he simply uses another subtle method without intermediaries or with unaware ones, he is certainly able of doing that when he isnt being an ironic murderer shit.) because it’ll serve him, and to be the leader responsible of making sure the so estimated Jin blood is disposesed will make him smug pleased. To slowly gain power and bit by bit erase the division between the noble clans and people who learn simply bcs of talent, scouting youngsters witht the excuse of replenishing the clans after the war and quiting the idiots nobles from their spoiled positions. 

Hell you can even make LXC and NMJ (did he died before or after JGY becomes Sect Leader? Well if he is still alive, NHS doesn’t destroy him, but then WWX doesn’t come back. If he dies before, then the vengeance is still in play, but it’ll be even more fraughted bcs now JGY goals and methods are a lot more morally grey and watching WWX and LWJ confront that would be super interesting O-O), you can make them see those policies and be like, oh sure, that’s a good thing you’re doing A-yao. But also conflict with their positions in the nobility system, as time pases and JGY subtly passes more changes and brings to ruin those sect leaders more entrenched in the old ways and abusing of their people.

 Programs for literacy, for the spread of knowledge and the civil use of cultivation techniques with the excuse of avoiding beforehand the formation of ghosts and resentment appealing to the lazy nature of the rich while eliminating bit by bit the necessity of their existence, like boiling a frog, the creation of the watchtowers still fits nicely and we know in canon he faced oppposition there so here it’s more important still, even more so Su She I think, will be elated with this turn of events and even more loyal lmao if JGY sells it well and JGY sells his ideas really well. 

Maybe he helps XXC and SL bcs it’s in his interest they find success although he finds them naive; but JGY has a canon soft spot for people who treat him well regardless of his common born status, so. Maybe he intercedes with XY and convinces him to work with him taking out nobles reasonably (I bet XY will like that), and manages to avoid somehow XY elaborated revenge on SL and XXC? or executes him when he is too much of a wild card, but we know how that ended in canon... The best bet is making XY see on his own best interest to help in JGY vision but that’s well. almost crack fic lmao. 

OH! Maybe he finds XY before the massacre of the Chang clan bcs he is searching for someone to help him above table and gets to him by offering a more subtle but still suitable appropriate revenge with the pro bonus of getting to do the same to others after and access to WWX manuscripts. You know this has a much higher chance of working, let’s go with this scenario. So he keeps XY out of his father reach, when he is searching for someone to gain control of the stygian seal and wen ning. Yeah, this will appeal immensely to JGY xD

You know, and JGY being beloved by the people, and having more than a facade of being just or fair, but proving it although it isn't in the interest of the nobles. And as he is politics savvy, although with more effort he could certainly make it so he avoids assassinations or walking in a minefield like wwx etc. 

Depending on the NMJ situation... You could make it so NMJ doesn’t die and then they enter a stalemate of grudging respect bcs JGY wants more an ally in swaying people for his cause than his revenge, although he sure could make non lethal things to inconvenience NMJ lol. And NHS as sect leader wouldn’t have the same power to his decisions and reach, no matter if he is more manipulable; after all isn’t NHS a pampered noble in JGY eyes? Who could be sure if he even would follow JGY anyways... 

And you could give it different endings depending on the development of JGY: a success where he gets to the point were factually the sects aren’t bloods based anymore, just a few like the lan (those traditionalists lol) resisting an unavoidable wave of change taht comes for everybody, and the money doesn’t flow in their pockets like a river to the ocean but instead it goes back to the people. 

You could make it so it’s a partial success bcs JGY is still himself and does more than a few morally grey things that come to light with the NMJ murder reveal, but his changes linger and the common people plus others of the same ideal now trained and in process of being cultivators won’t let themselves be cowered by the awful nobility -another big conflict breeding, and maybe it won’t be successful but people have long memories and books and the new ideals of equality would spread regardless, so it would start again and again each time a bit better-. I think WWX POV in this case would be delicious omg, LXC conflict even more pointed. This would be, I think the more realistic and interesting to write take on the idea. Iand you now, I’m in favor of a novel setting and characterization, but to make it more painful, use the 16 gap of the show and nothing else (i haven’t see the show beyond the first episodes bcs i couldn’t take it lol)  so JGY has more time to make changes. 

You could make a downer ending (this I wouldn’t like lmao, but it’s there) so that shows the cruelty and inability of making changes to something so integrated and supported by itself, that JGY loses much to his revenge he takes more and more radical actions that come back to bit his ass with NMJ and JGS murder revelation. I think XY in here would be appropriate, in an antagonist role as in MDZS. But it still has an impact; JGY’s life, despite his faults was still more inspirational, made better impact than his canon self. Make it poetically tragic and a comment on the futility of trying to change society by oneself, but find beauty in the attempt itself which has created community, which will in the future do the true work of overthrowing the yokes of the high ups, educating and helping each other in their messy human lives.

All this ending, and JL conflict, who at this point has learnt much at his uncle JGY side, who has decided to (dunno about marrying QS and A-Song’s death. depending on your take and ending it’ll have different impact) go on with his labor bc he sees the good on it and swears to not be like the worst of JGY. A legacy he can reconcile with himself thanks too, to the experience of meeting WWX. JL is in a more fraught position with JC in this verse, I think, bc for one, he is more mature/not so spoiled and that would make JC glad, but his ideas are at the same time understable and anatema to JC who puts so much of his life on honoring the clan on making sure the Jiang carry on and his name isn’t forgotten but who recruited from nothing during the war. Who sees the danger in alienating the powers of the cultivation sects bc he saw what it did to WWX and he believes in protecting his own and to hell with the rest. 

So very interesting!!! 

You could spin so many takes from this, it’d be so fascinating and satisfying. I’d love to see the chara of JGY developed in this direction, bcs he has so much potential to waste it in so petty goals. His ambition is certainly big enough to believe he will damn well do a silent revolution well. 

Just, using the classics to argue for equality and education and a good life even if you’re a peasant, using the cultivation basis and its suppose use to better oneself and the world in making a point of avoiding wars and violent retribution (to the public, he’s still a bit of an hypocrit bcs it serves him well to have a stick with which to beat his enemies lmao) and instead use diplomacy and a sort of rehabilitation or service thing. Because those ideas are there, in the different clasics and schools of thought (not confucianism, not as much) it’s just that the nobles and high scholars were never interested and used them to argue for a sort of natural hierarchy were they’re in top. 

 Let JGY create a new school of thought, and LXC and others seeing the merit on it. JGY has the reach and the intelligence and the ability. 

The best revenge is living well and destroying the system which allowed the other to harm you, the ideas, the means. Create a fantasy fulfillment ^^

[yelenasdog]

unknown desires (spencer reid x russell holmes) (i’m so sorry BFRHEKRB)

really all i have to say about this is what the fuck and why the fuck. I DESERVE NO RIGHTS. enjoy i guess??? if u found this while searching for some reid x reader there’s plenty of that on my account!! 

i’m deleting this bye ok-

btw it’s set at the end of s9 ep18 and then ends probably around s13?? idk. also listen to billie eilish’s “i love you” to be extra sad bc this is lowkey kinda angsty and lowkey a mess but im throwing it at u ok bye!

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary”- Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven

Spencer shouldn't have been so drawn the first time he saw Russell in person. He shouldn't have been drawn at all.

He was a victim, someone who the young doctor had stared at a photo of for days while planning his rescue.

Although he didn't feel the initial electricity, he was far too buried in the case to think about Russell's kind puppy dog eyes or plump, rosy lips. Yes, far too busy to even fathom thinking of the way his raven locks that Edgar Allan Poe himself would be jealous of complimented his ivory skin, even for an inkling of a moment. He couldn’t bear to do such a thing.

But then, there was after the case, that day at the hospital. There was loss, it was hard to see. But yet again, he saw it every day.

His brain was fuzzy, and he seemed to be more heavily affected by this case than any previous endeavors. He wasn’t sure as to why.

It had him lost in his own thoughts, swimming in a pool of unknown desires.

So lost in fact, so drowned in his daydream, that he was barely aware of the person that had been wheeled over in his general vicinity.

It was him. His pink pout (that was more of a smile) was busted, no doubt, and his porcelain skin had cuts littered among it, but god, it was him.

He should have been disgusted, scared even. The man had rabies! And this was doctor Reid we’re talking about, the biggest possible germaphobe. But he couldn’t bring himself, he was too infatuated. Not that he would admit to it, though.

And he apparently had heard about Spence and his displeasure with even slightly unsanitary situations, as he chose to greet (and simultaneously say goodbye) to the doctor with a simple wave and bashful smile.

Spencer returned it in the same manner. The interaction was quick, too quick. It also warmed his heart to a full extent.

Russell was whisked away by a nurse, looking back reluctantly at the three agents that had saved his life, specifically a certain brown haired doctor, wanting to encapsulate his stunning image in his mind.

Spencer stuck to a cycle. Save, move on, repeat. It was easiest to do so rather than deal with any tag along, unwanted, painful emotions. 

Because that’s all love was. 

Crude and abrupt pain. But despite this, he found himself asking Garcia for Russell's current home address. His own actions confused him, but nonetheless, he held his head high as he exited the batcave towards the light, clutching a paper with the info in his hands. 

He knew he didn’t need it. But he refused to face the (impossible) possibility to forget this information, to forget Russell.

The paper was wrinkled and dampened from his gorilla grip by the time he had arrived. He flattened it out with shaky hands, grabbing a fresh piece of parchment.

“Hello, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid.”

No, no, too formal. He erased it.

“Greetings, I’m Spencer Reid.”

What was he, an alien? Even though many members of the team thought so, he decided against giving Russell Holmes that opportunity. And then it was gone in the wind with a few swipes from his pencil eraser.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I was one of the agents that assisted on your case. I hope this message finds you well. I’m just checking in to see how you’re healing.”

Spencer scoffed at himself out loud. “just checking in”, his ass. He continued writing and with very low expectations, he sent off the letter.

------

“I'll be just a minute, Mom!” Russell hollered through his home as he went to go check the mail. He walked down to the mailbox, limping ever so slightly, still in recovery. He flipped through the various envelopes, doing a double take when he saw a certain name.

Doctor Spencer Reid

Apartment 23A

Wilcox Road, Quantico, Virginia, 22134

He tore into the message immediately, a growing smile resting on his face as he read.

“Hi! I’m Doctor Spencer Reid, I was one of the agents who assisted on your case. I hope this message finds you well. I’m just checking in to see how you’re healing. How's your mother been since her surgery? I hope she is doing well, too. If you need anything don’t hesitate to write back or call the number at the bottom of the page. Yet again, I'm glad we could get you home, perhaps to your boyfriend/ girlfriend, or wife/husband.

Best regards, Spencer.”

He was off the walls with excitement. There was a newfound pep in his step as he made his way up the driveway, no doubt planning on writing back.

“Dr. Reid, I appreciate you checking in on me. I do not regret informing you that there is no boyfriend or girlfriend here, just my mother and I while we both recover...”

-----

Glee and bliss. Those were the two things that could no doubt be used to describe the relationship between Spencer Reid and Russell Holmes.

Although it was nothing too formal, exchanges of news about mothers or about how work was going was going on either side soon became much more deep, bringing the two closer than imaginable, even from 689 miles apart.

Never meeting again in person, the situation reminded him all too much of Maeve, but nonetheless, to him, Russell was worth it. So they talked, and talked, for years and years on end. 

They both felt a warm fuzzy feeling in their chest, quite able to place the cause on one another. 

Then one day, they stopped. 

Spencer had gotten home from a long case, and was very much so looking forward to an uplifting note from his distanced lover. But to his surprise, there was nothing. 

Although he found it odd, he blew it off, considering the possibility of getting lost in the post, running some stat to calm himself. Pulling out his cell, he dialed the number that he had saved of Russell's if for some reason the letters were to become inadequate. Voice mail. And voicemail again, and again, and again. Spencer tried for days and weeks, but to no avail, he was met with radio silence.

Until one day, if it was fateful or not is up to you.

 It was sunny in August, and Spencer Reid was not a fan. 

After sweating around all day (he wasn’t sure what it meant either), he made his way to his apartment. He stripped down to his slacks and undershirt, waltzing around his apartment with a water bottle in hand.

knock knock

He squinted his honey eyes, confusion flooding his body. He cautiously approached the door, keeping his revolver in his peripheral vision, compliments of his paranoia.

Another two knocks sounded, but before a third could ring out, he swung the door open.

He gasped, his jaw water bottle falling out of his hand and rolling into the hallway.

“Russ?”

“Hi, Spence.”

He wanted to hug him, he wanted to kiss him, God, he wanted to-

“I felt like I needed to tell you in person.”

His heart dropped to his feet as Russell's own shaky hand presented itself, in it, a white envelope, similar to the one that started their not-so extravagant rondevu.

“W-what is this, Russ?” he opened with nimble fingers, sliding it from its encasement.

Join soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Russell and Jane Holmes-

He didn’t read the rest, he didn’t need to, and couldn't. Tears made their way to both men’s eyes, threatening with such a fierce hostility to spill.

“I’m so sorry, Spence.”

This warranted no response from the doctor. He looked blankly behind Russ, his mind running a million miles a minute. With his head hung in a terrible shame, Russell turned to leave.

He was shocked when he was stopped by Spencer grabbing him by his blue and red plaid shirt, pulling him back.

“Wait.”

He turned, his hazel eyes just barely meeting Spencer's own of the same color.

“Do you love her?”

He pondered for a moment, before nodding slightly.

“Yes, I,” he paused. “Yes.”

Spencer bit his bottom lip briefly, before making a choice he knew he would regret.

He gripped him by the collar of his shirt, smashing their lips together for the first time and the last.

It should have been sweet, it should have been everything he hoped for and more. It should have been a reunion as glorious as they both could have imagined.

But instead, it was a mixture of salty tears, as their lips moulded together like they were made for each other. He pulled away, trying to maintain a strong facade.

“Good.”

And with that, he took one more look, before committing him to a memory, and nothing else.

He shut his door, sliding down against it and silently sobbing, pulling at his curls as tears racked his body. He heard smaller footsteps pad up the staircase, stopping next to where he left a dumbstruck and emotion ridden Russell.

“Hey, sweetheart, is your friend going to be able to make it?” She rubbed his shoulder lovingly, so incredibly oblivious and unaware of the previous happenings.

He put a remorseful hand on hers, watching how her engagement ring shimmered, even in the dim lighting.

He put on a false smile for his future wife he thinks he loves. “I think he’s a bit busy, he said he needs to review the date.” He spoke loudly, hoping Spencer could hear him through the thick door.

She frowned, nodding in what was her understanding of it all.

“Well, I hope he can make it, he must be important if you came all the way here to deliver this for him!”

He smiled genuinely, thinking of all the letters sent and hours spent.  

“Yeah, more than he knows.”

It wasn't until after he heard their steps retrieve, and their car start up and go, that he picked up the card to finish reading it.

He ran his finger over the gold raised trim, the feeling giving him goosebumps. He read the front and flipped it over, seeing an all too familiar hand writing underneath the date that the supposed union was to be held.

I'm sorry, I love you.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

literally what the fuck was that ffwbfbfbkfw what do i even tag this?? im so sorry. also this is my first character x character be nice

[baronccorbin]

Perfect

Paring: Prompt: Reader had left Dean for good, realizing that there was not going back to him, and maybe there was certain angel right beside her just waiting for a chance to be with her, whether he realized it or not. My summaries suck. Part 1 Part 2 Word count: 3,783 Warnings: Smut, 18+

Author’s note: This are NOT new stories, i’m not writing again and i probably won’t be doing it for a looong time. I’m simply re-uploading the ones that tumblr deleted bc of the gifs they had. 

Soap and foam covered her hands as Y/N rubbed the soap bar between them, the hot water hitting her already rosy skin as she keeps rubbing herself to ‘clean’ her skin. She kept rubbing the bar along her neck, stomach and legs, trying desperately to erase the memories from a few hours before.

Trying to forget begin zapped out of her apartment by a troubled looking Castiel, trying to forget the look in Sam’s face as he begged her to talk to his brother. But most importantly; trying to forget Dean.

She didn’t remember why she kissed him, maybe his words were too painful and the only way to shut him up was with a kiss, or at least that’s what she kept repeating on her head. But in reality she wanted to show him, she wanted to let him see what he threw away, she wanted to claim him just like he had done all those nights they had spent together in the past. She wanted him to admit he was hers.

But the moment he wrapped himself around her after they were done, the moment he repeated those sweet words he always used she realized the great mistake she had made. Because there, on his arms, she found herself consumed by the sadness, the sadness of knowing that she didn’t belong in those arms, of knowing that the man beside her wasn’t the one she fell in love with.

And on that moment she realized that there was no going back to him, she couldn’t forgive and forget what he had done, how he made her feel. So she left the bed as soon as he fell asleep, quickly leaving him a note to let him know that it was over, feeling the tears running down her eyes as she dressed herself quietly. Not looking at Sam’s face as she asked Castiel to take her back to her home.

So now she found herself on her shower, the water set on high temperature as she cleaned herself from his scent, finally crying her little broken heart out. Realizing that all the rage had left her body, leaving her with an immense sadness instead.  

-

Six months later…

“Sam” Castiel called as soon as he appeared on the bunker’s library

“Jesus” he younger hunter exclaimed as he almost let the book hi was reading drop “when am I going to get used to this?” he muttered to himself as he sat straight to greet the angel of the lord standing at the other side of the table.

“I apologize if I startle you” the angel gave him a somehow apologetic smile

“It’s fine… do you need anything?”

“Yes…” the blue-eyed man looked around “where’s Dean?”

“Out” Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers “went to a bar… you know how it is, won’t be back until tomorrow… I hope”

“Good” the angel breathed out before sitting on the chair in front of him “I need your help”

“… Okay”

“Remember a few months ago when Dean was acting strange and putting himself in danger…” the hazel eyed hunter grunted in response “well… I need you to do the same… for Y/N”

“Is she okay?” Sam almost jumped, ready to aid Y/N if she was in any danger

“She’s… not taking it so well” the angel tilted his head trying to find the right words to explain the situation. “She’s fine, safety-wise. She has been on a few minor hunts; they went well I made sure of that. But she’s being acting so different from herself”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s been… drinking a lot, and having… sex, with an alarming number of partners, I know that is not unusual but for Y/N…”

“Oh… Wow” Sam muttered, not believing what Castiel had said. He remembered Y/N being shy and reserved, he knew she wasn’t a prude or anything, she was with Dean after all, but being with different guys… it didn’t sound like the Y/N he knew “How do you know all of this?” he gave the angel a narrowed glare

Sam could have sworn Castiel blushed a little bit before answering his question, not really looking him in the eye.

“I’ve been worried about her… She is my friend and after I left her on her apartment… she didn’t look good. So I kept going back there a few times a week, and there’s when I saw her”

“So… you want me to do an intervention or something?”

“I want you to go with me and talk to her, she lost a lot when she left Sam, she lost a home, and the only two friends she had at the moment. It’s not her fault” the angel exclaimed defensibly, making Sam look at him with shock written all over his face

“O-okay. Let’s go”

-

Y/N sighed as she parked her car in front of the little apartment she owned, the hunt had been easy but tiring, the demon gave her some pretty good punches before being killed and the only thing she wanted was a hot shower, some alcohol and her bed.

All her plans were thrown out the window when she entered her apartment though, as she heard voices coming from the living room; she tensed, taking the angel blade from her boot, ready to attract.  

But as soon as she entered the room she stopped, rolling her eyes and placing the blade inside of her boot again. Looking at the two big men sitting on her really tiny couch and discussing something on a hushed tone. She rolled her eyes before clearing her throat loudly, making them jump a little before looking at her with wide eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asked, but didn’t give the time to respond before speaking again “What are you doing here? How did you got in… you know what that’s a stupid question” she shook her head before looking at Sam and smiling a little “Hey Sammy”

Sam got up from the couch and walked the two steps towards her before wrapping his big arms around her and pressing her tightly against his chest, realizing how much he had missed her in those months he had not been able to see her.

“Can’t… Breathe!” she gasped out, feeling her lungs struggling to get air in

“Sorry” the tall man said before letting her go, a big smile on his beautiful face, showing that dimple she missed so much

“It’s okay” she smiled before turning to look at the angel, still awkwardly sitting on the couch “What about you?” she asked before walking around the coffee table to stand in front of him, she tugged his hand to ‘help’ him stand up and her arms were quickly wrapped around his waist, making him smile before slowly wrapping his arms around her as well

“Hey” she whispered against his shirt

“Hello Y/N” he smiled, making her remember about the first time they meet

-

“What do you mean with ‘An angel saved me’?” she asked looking at Dean and Sam like they had grown another head

“That’s what happened… we’ve been working with him for a few weeks, didn’t want you to meet him until we knew it was safe” Dean explained, taking a big gulp of his beer before shrugging “just if you want to meet him, though”

“He’s a freaking angel! Of course I want to meet him” she looked at him like he was crazy, making him smile a little

Dean closed his eyes to awkwardly start praying for the angel put as soon as his name left his lips, Castiel was beside Y/N, making her jump and let out a little yelp

“Apologies” the blue eyed man nodded his head towards her, apologetically. His bright blue eyes fixed intensely on her duller ones

“It’s okay” she smiled before looking at the brothers with wide eyes “you are the angel that saved Dean, right?” she asked just to make sure this wasn’t a joke or something

“Yes” was the only thing that Castiel could say before Y/N wrapped her arms around him, taking him by surprise and leaving him with no idea of what to do

“Castiel…” Dean started, laughing at the angel’s expression “this is Y/N”

“Hello Y/N” he muttered

-

A loud cough made them break the embrace to look at a really uncomfortable Sam, standing across the room

“Sorry” Y/N mumbled before getting some distance from the angel and her “so…” she rubbed the back of her neck before looking at Sam “not to be rude or anything… but, what are you doing here?”

“Castiel here…” Sam started, nodding towards the angel “is worried about you”

Y/N looked at the man on the trench coat with her brows furrowed

“Worried about what?” she tilted her head to the side, with the confused expression the angel wore all the time

“He said that you aren’t taking it so well… the break up and all” the younger Winchester started making her look at him again “he said you’ve been drinking a lot… and” he took a deep breath before finish his sentence “having a lot of casual sex” he said quickly, trying to get it all out and not repeat it again

Y/N looking at him wide-eyes, blinking a few times and letting her brain process everything. Maybe she started drinking way more than she used to when she was with them, and maybe the first month after her last encounter with Dean she wasn’t in a really good state, both physically and mentally, but she got better, she learnt to forgive him, not enough to go back to him but enough to stop hating him, she started realizing that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t worthless like she thought, she healed.  Castiel had nothing to be worried about, especially…

“I’ve slept with two guys since I left the bunker six months ago” she blurted out before she could stop herself, feeling the heat on her cheeks after “I mean… yeah” she cleared her throat “I don’t know what he said or saw, but I have not been fucking around”

Sam looked at Castiel with wide eyes, feeling embarrassed of his accusations when what the angel had said was a lie

“What the fuck Cas!” he exclaimed “you told me she was a mess, you told me she had being with, and I quote, ‘an alarming number of partners’ and now here I am, making a fool of myself because what you said wasn’t true”

“You said that?” Y/N asked looking at the now blushing angel, he nodded slowly, looking everywhere but her “why?”

“You were drinking too much, Y/N” the angel started now looking at her with a pained expression “you didn’t drink before, and when I came to see you a few weeks ago you had a man here, and then I came back again and there was a different one” he looked down “I thought it was a regular thing, and I didn’t come back again, not to your house at least… but I knew this wasn’t like you and…” he took a deep breath “I didn’t like it, to think you were with some guy… it was bad enough to see you with Dean”

The room got quiet for a few minutes, letting Y/N understand Castiel’s words she was about to say something but Sam seemed to react quicker than her.

“So you brought me here because you’re jealous?” he accused, all the anger leaving his face, being replaced by… amusement? There were so many emotions on his face that Y/N had a hard time keeping up with them “that’s why you got some distance when she and Dean started dating?” realization was written all over his face, and then he looked like he was remembering something.

-

Sam and Cas were worried the second they saw Dean on the ground outside the bunker, they were coming home from a long hunt and the last thing they expect was that, especially when they saw him shaking and loud sobs left his mouth

“Dean?” the younger hunter whispered, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder “what are you doing here?” he looked around “did something happen?”

“She left” his brother grunted, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands

“Who?”

“Y/N” Dean exclaimed, standing from the ground “she left, Sam! She found out and left! She didn’t let me explain, she didn’t let me make it up to her. She left!” by the end of the sentence he was yelling, using his hands to do sings that Sam didn’t understand

“She found out what?” he asked, not having an idea of what his brother was talking about.

But Castiel was a different story, he didn’t know, of course he didn’t, but it wasn’t hard for him to take a look on Dean’s mind to know what was he talking about, an inexplicable anger boiled his blood as soon as he read Dean’s thoughts

“How could you be so stupid?!” the angel exclaimed, making the brothers look at him with wide eyes “how could you do that to her? Is that a human thing? To have everything and then throw it away?” he asked shaking his head and before Dean could say anything Castiel was gone

-

“You were in love with her” Sam blurted out after a few seconds, making Y/N look at him and then at Castiel “you are in love with her”

“This was a bad idea” Castiel said, avoiding her eyes and taking a hold of Sam’s arm

“Wait…” Y/N said but it was too late, they were gone. Leaving her confused and feeling… hopeful?  Man, I only wanted to sleep, she thought guess I am having none of that tonight

-

Y/N signed for what it felt like the 100th time on the night, using her hand to wipe the fogged mirror and look at herself. She picked the comb from the sink and ran it throw her head to de-tangle her wet hair, her mind however kept repeating Sam’s words over and over again. Is Castiel really in love with me? She kept asking herself, but shaking her head after a few minutes, realizing how ridiculous it was for her to think about an angel of the Lord being interested in anybody.

She wrapped herself with a towel before leaving the bathroom and walk through the little hall towards her bedroom, she opened the door and was about the remove the towel when she looked up to the bed, she froze instantly when he was Castiel sitting on his bed, momentarily looking at the floor but as soon as he heard her gasp he looked up, his intense gaze meeting hers.

“Y/N” he said after a few minutes of silence “I came here to apologize” he added before she could say anything “my actions were wrong and Sam also said that I could have offended you by my accusations , also I have no right to be ‘jealous’ as Sam said an-“

“Were you, though?” she asked, not letting him finish “were you jealous?” she asked again as she closed the door behind her.

“I… I suppose I was” Castiel looked down again “I had never felt anything like that before; I was not familiarized with the feeling, I felt anger every time Dean took you into his arms, I felt… envy, because he was able to kiss you or hug you and I wasn't”

“Castiel…” she started, walking closer towards him, it only took her three long steps to be in front of him

“I didn’t understand, Y/N…” he shook his head before looking up at you “I still don’t understand how he could do something so stupid, he had the most beautiful creature all for himself and yet he managed to ruin it”

Y/N felt tears forming on her eyes, her heart was beating faster with each word that left his mouth and an inexplicable wave of happiness washed over her body, she had never felt so beautiful than under Castiel’s gaze. No one had ever made her feel so special or wanted

She couldn’t find the right words to express her feelings, she knew that she would start crying the moment she’d let a few words out. So she decided that it was better if she just showed him how she felt.

She cupped his face with both hands, caressing his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, smiling sweetly at him before lowering herself until her lips were an inch apart from his, letting him decide if he really wanted her or not.

Castiel froze for a few seconds, but when he understood what was happening he quickly acted, pressing his lips to hers and molding them slowly together, trying to savor the feeling of her plump, soft lips against his slight chap ones. Y/N smiled against his lips before removing her hands from his face, opting for wrapping them around his neck as she moved to straddle his hips.

“Too much?” she asked against his lips as he grunted

“Not enough” he answered before tilting his head to kiss her deeply, his hands resting on her hips as he brought her closer to his body, soft moans leaving her mouth when his tongue teased her bottom lip

Y/N opened her mouth, letting him taste her minty breath as his tongue danced with hers, she let herself lose on the kiss, only enjoying the feeling of her hot mouth against hers and his hands roaming the sides of her body.

Castiel moaned as she rocked herself forward, rubbing his erection with his naked core, he broke the kiss, letting her catch her breath as his lips explored the soft skin of her neck, kissing and nipping his way towards the center of her chest. He grabbed the hem of the towel and looked at her like he was asking for permission.

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lips as she watched him remove the towel from her naked body, smiling when she heard him mutter the word ‘perfect’ under his breath as his eyes roamed her naked form, from her neck to her breasts, then he let his gaze linger for a minute on her erected nipples before looking at her stomach and lastly her core pressed against his covered cock.

He looked at her on the eyes again before repeating the word ‘perfect’ before lowering his face towards her chest, leaving a few wet kisses on the valley between her breasts, his hands roaming her back softly making her arch towards him. Castiel smiled against her skin, leaving a last kiss in the middle of her chest before moving her mouth towards one hardened nipple, blowing air on the skin to see if he could get a reaction from that.

His smile widened when she let out a soft moan, encoring him to take the nipple inside of his mouth, making her moan loudly this time as he sucked it softly, lapping the skin wet skin with his tongue

“Castiel…” she breathed out, feeling every tug of her nipple going straight to her core, making her walls clench in need

“Mmm” he hummed against her flesh, making her eyes roll back in pleasure as the vibration hit her. Y/N mewled; running her fingers through his hair and tugging his head towards her other nipple, making Castiel letting go of her with a loud ‘pop’ before giving the other the same treatment.

Once he was done with her breasts his lips returned towards hers, kissing her deeply as his hands roamed her ass, groping her cheeks softly making her moan against his lips.

“Castiel, please” she breathed out against the angel’s lips, and that was everything Castiel needed before turning her around and let her fall softly on the bed, he waved his hand to get rid of his clothes before hovering her, his hot skin pressed deliciously against hers

She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, meaning as she felt his hardened length rubbing against her wet folds. Castiel kissed her once more, before grabbing his cock and position it against her wanting entrance

“Will you let me have you?” he asked, making her smile brightly

“You already do” she whispered and now was his turn to smile

Castiel began thrusting his hips, letting his cock enter her slowly, both of the moaning at the feeling, he kept thrusting until he was fully inside of her, stopping to let her adjust to his size. His hands roamed the sides of her body, enjoying the feeling of her curves against his palm and her hot walls around his cock. She cupped his face again and brought his lips towards hers, kissing him sloppy until she felt it was time to let him move.

Y/N nodded, letting him know it was okay for him to move. He started pulling out of her, loving the little gasps that escaped from her mouth as he began to thrust into her again. Her fingers grabbed his shoulders as she moaned loudly, feeling the tip of his cock hitting the spot within her that made her see white.

Castiel noticed, and he grabbed her legs, unwrapping them from his waist and lifting them just enough to make his cock hit the same spot every time his cock entered her.  

“Castiel” she moaned loudly when he hit the spot over and over again, her walls clenching around his cock, dragging loud grunts from the back of his throat as he felt his orgasm approaching him

Y/N used her hands to press his lower back, making his pelvis rub against her swollen clit with each one of his thrust. Castiel’s lips crashed against hers once more, kissing her hard as they both felt ready to explode.

“Y/N…” Castiel moaned as he felt her walls clenching around him, her hot cum coating his cock as she arched her back and yelled his name over and over again, he felt himself twitch inside of her before hastily join her in the orgasmic bliss, shooting his hot side deep inside of her, both looking at each other with clouded eyes and open mouths.

Castiel kept thrusting into her, softly just to get as much of her orgasm as he could before pulling his soft cock out of her, falling on the free spot on the bed. He smiled as Y/N rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him

“That was…” she started but lost her words as she looked up to him

“Perfect” he smiled down, dropping a little kiss on her nose

“Perfect”

[sxyurii]

Hey, I've been your follower for years now and recently I've been through a breakup and I saw your post about it and I feel really sad I don't know how to move on and I just wanted to ask could u give some tips 😢❤❤❤ Love you and your blog so much!!! Sending you much love

Omg hi angel!!! 💕 im really sorry to hear that :( It sucks but we gonna get thru this baby

This will be a long post but also for anyone whos going thru a breakup rn, I'll type out everything that I wish someone told me before 😂

HOW TO WIN A BREAKUP

Ok so im gonna put shit that I know from expierence and as a psychology major so we have some gold hacks here on getting over a breakup 😏 First, I've personally had like quiete few breakups and honestly that FIRST ONE is ALWAYS the worst. If this is ur first breakup im rly sorry but its gonna suck for a while LMAO just remember that first one is the most painful but once you get over it its like antidote for life. No breakup will hurt that much as far as I know. Now lets start. U broke up youre sad, alone, crying, now what?

1. Call your friends. ALL OF THEM. I always felt my breakups before they happened and with this recent one I summoned all of my friends and they were all there with me before and after it happened. Venting helps and emotional support will be the first thing here. You are very vulnerable and sensitive right now and your emotions are all over the place probably. You're sad, angry, confused you wanna kill him all of that shit and having people there with who you can let out all those emotions is SO SO SO important i cant stress it enough. Dont bottle emotions D O N T its tempting but its toxic as fuck and it prolongs the healing. Buy junk food, have girls night, cry to your friends and talk about it until you don't feel need to anymore, cry more. Use all emotional support u can get, ur girls got u. BONUS TIP therapy helps alot. Ive been to therapy to help me sort my emotions out and its been super helpful. Remember also friends arent therapists, sometimes a professional help to guide thru emotions is the good choice too.

2. DELETE EVERYTHING you have that reminds you on them. I personally dont have hard time with it I know some people do but its also one of the most toxic things. Delete the pictures, chats, unfollow them block them even if u have to, mute, delete the songs that remind u of them. Literally erase their existence from your life. Due our brain not knowing difference between someone breaking up w us and someone dying pain we feel is intense and gets to point we feel physical pain. Memories trigger emotional responses and keep opening the wound. You need to heal. Patch it and let it heal. Dont poke it by seeing still things that remind u of them.

3. dO NOT STALK THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA. DONT DONT DONT. ITS LIKE DRINKING POISON EXPECTING THEM TO DIE??? What you could possibly find that will make u feel better??? Them posting that they miss you and want u back??? Nah sis, social media presence of people is so biased and its SO EASY to fake anything. You can misinterpret alot and you might also see stuff that will hurt u. Some of my exes (idk abt this last one tho bc I never stalked his social media since we broke up and im super proud on it) would post stuff that they know would hurt me or make me jealous or just some shady shit and you dont want to go in a place where u know someone just wants to hurt u. You are better than that. Protect your mental peace at all costs.

4. Journal. With this recent breakup I wrote like alot about it, i took my emotions and wrote paaaages. Let it all out. Draw abt it. Find ways to turn your pain in art.

5. DONT TEXT YOUR EX. CUT THEM OFF. its the best for you. You cant heal in a place you got hurt. If you wanna text them handle phone to ur best friend. I know whenever you are alone u will feel so lonely but trust me better call your friend than hit up ur ex LMAO We all still think we want our ex back even some time after breakup. We tend to idealize our exes in our heads and remember only the good times and stuff and then its just painful illusion. I know i did that alot with my exes so with this last one i decided to prevent it. Best way for that was to make a list of all the things he did that would hurt me, make me sad or mad and that i just didnt like abt him. Whenever I would feel im thinking I miss him I would read that list and see he wasnt so good and there was a reason that relationship ended. It will come to point u will see you werent happy and you will be slowly letting it go. He aint shit trust me.

6. Usually it takes 3 weeks for the worst symptoms of breakup to subdue bc our neurotransmitters need to balance again. Love is a drug and breakup is like withdrawal from cocaine addiction. Your body and mind will go through symptoms same as cocaine addict. Remember to be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. I know for me issue was I would be like "get over it" and not allow myself to be hurt abt it. Be kind, you are going though huge emotional trauma and you deserve all the time and space to be hurt and feel it. Feelings are like visitors, you just have to accept them with out resistance and let them pass. Acceptance is the key.

7. Focus on yourself. You were so used on putting effort and energy into that person. Take all of that energy and put it back in YOU. Be selfish. Treat yourself. Date yourself. Write things you love about yourself. Rediscover your passions. Focus on school. On your beauty. dYE UR HAIR DO A TATTOO DO UR NAILS DO A FACEMASK PLAY SONGS SINGING HOW EXES AINT SHIT Fall in love with yourself. This is something that you will be ready to do when you processed all the emotions in healthy way.

8. Idk did i forget something but just to add this. "This too shall pass". You will heal. You will mend. Never close your heart to love again. You deserve love and one day you will have it. Dont let your pain make you push love away. Breakups are extremely good for self growth and be grateful for it because trust me you will grow so much and you will learn so much about yourself.

I hope I helped at least a bit 💕 I keep feeling like I forgot something but know that you and anyone can always hit me up in DMs and ask for help. Im always open to help anyone and dont hold back. Im sending you so much love honey 💖💖💖💖💖

[enkelimagnus]

🔥 about relationships in SH bc I'm emo and I really like reading about your thoughts/opinions.

Okay this is going to be a BIG answer because, I dunno what you mean by “relationships”

Romantic Relationships

When it comes to romantic relationships on the show, I find them relatively nice. If you forget that from 1x01 to 3x22 (year later not included) there’s maybe 3 months, and that as a result, Magnus and Alec got married 2 months into their relationship, Clary and Jace have dated for a month, and Simon and Izzy 3 days, of course. 

The romances are interesting. Though some parts are badly written (in season 3, every thing that Malec has a couple gains is done through Magnus as a person losing something), I find Malec especially very interesting. Clace has also a good dynamic, with a true development from Jace’s character, which is very interesting to see. And the third ship I’d say is probably in the top three writing wise: Saia. Saia is amazing, for some of the same reasons that Malec and Clace are, actually. Saia, Clace and Malec all have one interesting in common. Healing. 

Jace, Clary, Simon, Maia, Magnus and Alec all have an healing journey as they go through their relationship. They all grow, and heal old traumas and pains, and I find it very beautiful and comforting to me. Victims of abuse like Jace, Maia and Magnus finding trust and love and support and being able to open themselves to vulnerability again? That’s GORGEOUS. 

Family dynamics

I enjoy the family dynamics a lot too. Especially the Lightwoods. Though the Luke/Clary bond is amazing, it is often the only plot that Luke gets: something to do with saving Clary’s ass. And I find that sad. Luke tends to be only Clary’s dad, not his own character. 

You can have characters who put family first without it becoming their only personality trait. Because who is Luke if not someone’s dad? Maryse gets to have this growth, this enormous change in the way she portrays herself and the way she loves her children. Luke doesn’t get that. And you can probably peg this more on racism/people not knowing what to do with Luke, but it’s sad. 

As said before, I love the Lightwoods. I love the dynamic between Jace, Izzy and Alec, and the way Maryse, Max and Robert add to the trio. I find the maturing and the changes in that family the most interesting. And Izzy going from a daddy’s girl to a mommy’s girl is the best. 

Had it not been this outrageously incestuous, I would have enjoyed the Jonathan/Clary dynamic so much! I think there was a lot of wasted potential with Clary there, with the reasons behind her going dark. It’s a little too “the demon made me do it”. Too magic based, no matter what she says in 3x20. 

And of course the Asmodeus/Magnus relationship is GREAT. It’s one of the best and most fascinating parent/child relationships on this show, at least to me. There is such a history between those two, and a deep deep resemblance. it is BELIEVABLE that Asmodeus is Magnus’ son. 

They have a way of carrying themselves, a theatricality that is just similar. I love the way they move, and talk. Magnus gets some of that slow, deliberate diction sometimes, and I LOVE it. I love the feeling you get that Asmodeus raised Magnus. And I also love the enormous differences between them. It’s so GOOD. 

Ships (gonna go with canon ones here)

Malec

Obviously gotta start with Malec. The show wasn’t originally made for them. The show became theirs though, so easily. There’s gravity in that ship, and depth, and this sense of history-making. Not only in TV, but in the Shadow World. 

It’s far from perfect. Magnus gets the short end of the stick so very often, and the writing glosses over Alec’s flaws so often that it feels like they are actively trying to erase them. 

I very much dislike the way they went with Malec in season 3, even in 3A. It was just not what I wanted for them. Magnus losing his title, his magic, his home, all for Alec... this isn’t what i wanted. It’s what I got. 

And I got some very nice things with this. This building of them as a couple that happened, of them knowing each other’s habits and wearing each other’s clothing, and the wonderful, sweet domesticity of them. 

They are a ship that manages to be both extremely dramatic and extremely domestic at the same time. And it’s so nice to see, how complex it is. 

Also, like... Alec’s immortal. I’m not having it any other way. He deserves that. 

Clace

I don’t like Clace. I don’t think I ever have, and I don’t think I ever will. My dislike for Clace was born out of dislike for Jace, mostly, then was fueled by the way Clace fans tend to act.

I do get why it’s a good ship. I do get how nice it is for Jace to be able to be okay. Do I think it’s rushed? yes, of course it is, Jace deserves therapy but... yeah. 

Sizzy

Sizzy was built on friendship chemistry, addiction, and blaming Maia for taking care of her mental health. It was built out of nowhere in season 3, because the writers thought they needed to satisfy those who wanted to see them bang. I guess they are both hot and close enough to being white that it’s sexy. 

Simon/Maureen

Could have been very cute. That’s all? 

Meliorn/Izzy

In my top 3 Izzy ships. There is an understanding and comfort between these two, a deep caring, and just something that could have been so genuinely beautiful had it been given any chance at all. 

Climon

Cuter than Clace. They were sweet together, and honestly, I could have seen it become a real interesting ship had they been developed after the cute stage. These two share history, they share memories and interests, but they have this big break, when Simon became a vampire. It would have just been wonderful to truly see that history go further. 

Too bad it fell to both antisemitic tropes and the love triangle. 

Jocelyn/Luke

I don’t see the appeal to them? I think they don’t have much romantic chemistry at all. 

Izzy/Raphael

Canon them? Bad, worse than bad. It was horrible. Just something that was wrong on a lot of levels. 

I think it could be super interesting completely in another context. Especially in regards to Raphael being asexual and Izzy being a character known for being very sexual. 

Saia

Saia is just.... everything Sizzy wishes it was. It’s healthy, it’s sweet, it’s built on mutual understanding and trust. it’s built on two people finding each other. it’s built on two people who understand the other’s experience. Traumatic events and fear, anger and pain. it’s built on people who have the tools to build a future together. 

Saia is the kind of relationship you can see going far. They fit perfectly. They are different enough that it’s not like dating a copy of yourself. They are sweet, and fun, and they care about each other and RESPECT each other, and I love that about them. 

Saia is comfortable. It’s the kind of love that’s just... wholesome. That seems to be built from steady foundations. 

(yes I’m ignoring the hellfire that is 3B). 

Marcian

Luke and Maryse. What can I say? These two kinda came out of nowhere but... it works. Luke appreciates Maryse for everything that she is. Strong, smart and beautiful. Something I think Robert didn’t appreciate enough. 

And Maryse trusts Luke. She cares about him. They went through similar things, they have shared past and shared regrets. I love that about them. That they get to build what they deserved to have in the first place. 

Heline

I don’t get it. The only reason they are together is because they were written to. They seem to have 0 stuff in common. But I guess I would know more if they were more than blank slates with “science one” and “combat one” written on them. 

aaaaand. think I’m done. 

[ld200]

F A S C I N A T I N G

Oooh this looks fun! I got tagged by @dizzypinwheel​ and @anomalous-appliances​ :) Thanks!

The objective: Go through a work in progress and search for the following words that the previous person has assigned you. If you are able to find the aforementioned word in your work, share the excerpts from which they were found.

My assigned words: pain, luxury, clamp, sever, twist, green, strike (from both taggers so I’ll try to keep ‘em short!) 

Excerpts from: I searched through all my stuff but it ended up being Eternal Winter bc that’s the only WIP where I could find most of these words (my others are too short, hence, less words, lmao).

Pain 

(oof this one’s kinda long sorry)

Hank got to see his boy. Connor felt the traces of warmth in his broken body – warmth that Hank repeatedly cited over the next several minutes as he tried to argue Cole back to life. Connor experienced Hank going temporarily insane in that room, shaking his son’s lifeless form, praying out loud, talking to dead grandparents, attacking the doctors, getting escorted out by security. And then the memory stopped, and Connor had the sense that it was premature; that the connection between himself and Hank was still lending itself to more. After a few seconds, he realized that there was no memory to be had. For some period of time, whether seconds or minutes or hours, Hank had truly lost himself. Maybe he had passed out. Maybe he had been sedated. Maybe the whirlwind of trauma and physical violence was enough to erase the rest of the memory altogether.

There was, as they had both pointed out, no turning back. Connor wasn’t sure how much more of Hank’s pain he could take. He knew such moments could arrive, where it was just too much. But knowing it and feeling it were two different things.

Luxury

But time had this eternal quality about it, didn’t it, when you were in the thick of something? When life was so saturated with movement and experience that even yesterday was a world apart. Hank had the luxury, right then, of recognizing he was in the midst of something not unlike last November. Another stretch of eternity just like that week leading up to the revolution.

Clamp

Wow, over 200k words of fic and clamp is not one in ANY of my WIPs.

Sever

Connor nodded. “The chamber was loaded. As soon as it happened, I knew I would never do it again. I still know that now – that I’ll never do it again. But that just means that if I can’t find a way to sever the tie between myself and Cyberlife, they’ll just continue this for however long my life goes on. That’s a lot to process.”

Overcome

“I am a prototype,” Connor went on, clearly noticing both Hank’s and Fowler’s enraptured expressions (and if Hank wasn’t mistaken, Connor was pretty fucking pleased about the effect his retelling was having; Connor was proud, too). “I was designed to overcome minor inconveniences that may impede an investigation.”

“Y’ know, minor inconveniences like scramblers and torture,” Hank added, earning a knowing smile from Connor.

Twist

Not appreciating being spoon-fed an explanation by Elijah Kamski, Connor ran his own scan and figured out the rest for himself. “You,” he started. “You have a scrambler.”

A curl of a smile twisted into Kamski’s features, and Connor hated how familiar it was in all its juxtaposed fondness and intrigue and danger. “Now, Connor, let me ask you the question that you just asked me: do you think you’re alone now?”

Green

“Hank, I feel like sometimes you forget who I am. I feel like sometimes you assume it’s just natural for me to be as open with you as I have, as though I’m too green to have things like walls, when in fact – the opposite is true. I wasn’t just gone for five months because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I was gone because I didn’t know how to ask for help.”

Strike

“You don’t strike me as a man who would put himself in that position for anyone.”

“Because I’m not. You’re special, Connor.” Hank laughed once under his breath. “Special. Always thought ‘I would do anything for you’ was hyper-romantic bullshit, but here I am, feeling like maybe I would.”

“But would you want to?” Connor asked.

Hank stared at him and said earnestly, “Yeah.”

T A G G I N G!!!

@deviantdetectives @sadmichiganrobots @mwolf0epsilon @dbhtychou I’d add more but for some reason it’s really hard for me to keep straight who does what on this site??

My words for you are: danger, scent, handle, tremble, cry, hope (yep there’s 6 instead of 4 bc if I get to indulge so do you. only if you want ofc)

[kabutoraiger]

usually i type up “final thoughts” posts like, immediately after i finish a show. usually i’ve already made up my mind about how i feel, i guess. but kr build is... a tough one to wrap my head around.

i went into build needing it to be really good. for me personally, rider hasn’t been truly great since fourze. i’ve definitely liked certain seasons in between. but i haven’t loved them. and so this was me kinda placing all my hopes on this 1 show to tell me that rider still had the potential to be incredible.

and... it was, in some ways. mainly in terms of character - it’s been a while since i’ve loved a main rider OR a secondary as much as i love our best match boys. their relationship is something i hadn’t realized how much we’d been missing in this franchise. we hadn’t had that powerful main/secondary romance fated connection since... decade, i guess, and nothing quite like ryuga & sento since kagami & tendou. even then, there’s only so far i can take that comparison. bc ryusen really is pretty incomparable to the rest of heisei rider relationships. build has a lot of showa leanings but it’s the main duo that reminds me the most of the olden days.

i mean tell me this isn’t some build lads dialogue right here:

and the rest of the cast has so many other standouts - sawa, who despite being severely underutilized is still wildly interesting and unlike any lady in rider in the past few years. gentoku and his several weird phases each of them iconic in their own way. evolt, who entertained me more than any central villain in rider ever has. (thank you papa dan the capitalist man for paving the road for more genuinely fun big bads. your contribution was invaluable)

soichi. though why i love him so much i’ll get into in a moment.

the way the relationships & connections are woven together in build is astonishing to me. the way misora’s childhood interests informed the fullbottles (ok, sure, a lot of That was half-assed as far as explanations go, but on the base level there are some affecting ideas in there). the way the best match ft. her favorite animal then named sento. the way sento & ryuga were seemingly destined to meet from early on. the way sento was built by evolt, and the way that was all slowly erased as he was rebuilt by people who loved him. the way evolt’s manipulation of his “proteges” so to speak mirrors nanba and his “children.” all these themes of being put on a preset path by some dark or terrible power or person, and having to fight to free yourself from it.

there are so many beautifully complex things going on in build. the ties into real world politics. the way the pandora box doesn’t turn people berserker violent but instead makes them lose their human empathy, makes them scheming and cruel. gives them imperialist notions of the ultimate satisfaction being war and conquest. the blatant “here, see for yourself, kids” about why wars happen - not for the greater good but because people in power want them to - and how innocent people will always get caught in the crossfire and be turned into little more than weapons to be disposed of at someone’s whim.

there is so much happening in build.

there is too much happening in build.

in the end, it throws so much at the screen that it was never all going to stick. you could make entire shows out of minor parts of kr build. the nanba children, ryuga’s origins, vernage and the dead civilization of fcking mars!! these could all be entire premises on their own. in build, these things are almost an afterthought. it’s dizzying, at best. frustrating, at worst. even moreso when you consider that clearly mr muto needed to burn time somehow before the endgame, which is the only explanation i can come up with for the collecting lost bottles nonsense and all that ungodly boring shit with sento’s dad.

how do you look at this show you’ve made, which has about 50 incredibly interesting ideas too many, and decide to ignore all of those in favor of dad drama, toku’s favorite dull as dirt oft-recycled plot concept? it’s mind boggling to me. and to think that time could’ve been spent deepening characters & relationships, too. letting sawa talk to utsumi. doing Anything with utsumi to establish some kind of consistent personality, to make us actually care when he’s revealed to have technically died in the human sense and had his free will stripped from him many episodes prior. letting misora & kazumi have a normal goddamn conversation for once. treating misora as a person with wants of her own and not just a cute little prop to stand around and cry over others.

letting soichi wake the fuck up!!

the intriguing tragedy of soichi is something that i kept hoping and wishing that build might address. being trapped inside your own body for a decade, watching someone pose as you, and with such a spot-on impression that no one notices at all. the helplessness, knowing that this entity is plotting something terrible for everyone on earth and just. not being able to do a thing about it. but the emotions most of all - what did he feel for sento & ryuga & sawa while he was trapped? was it real, if he had no say in it, if he could hear them but they couldn’t hear him? and what did he really feel towards evolt, his only actual 2-sided conversation partner for 10 whole years? how well did he know him? what wild knowledge of evolt’s weaknesses could he have imparted if he’d just WOKEN UP!!

and now, with the ending, it’s like it never happened at all. i suppose the idea going around is that someday they might remember. but that’s just... so nebulous. it’s not a merge of worlds if one is just gone. i’d hoped so much that certain outcomes might have carried over, just with different causes. gentoku’s father still being dead, for example. in the new world he wouldn’t have been killed by evolt but instead in, say, a political assassination.

it just all feels too simple. all that pain and strife just wiped away. maybe it’s hypocritical to complain about this as a ryuki fan, but. in ryuki, resets were established as a thing that could happen. and via the setup of the rider battle, what other option was there to end the series satisfactorily?

here in build, we were told that the worlds would combine, and that evolt would never have existed. but evolt was not the singular source of villainy in all the universe. this show which took so many thought-provoking risks early on is now apparently telling me that in a world without evolt, humanity is totally at peace. nanba was never affected by the pandora box’s light. he was just goddamn evil, because sometimes people are. i loved that about his portrayal. in a world with no war to profit off of, this man should by all accounts probably be trying to start one himself.

but that’s not the world we see in the final ep of build. instead, everyone is simply normal and happy, the terrible things that shaped them in another reality seemingly having never occurred at all, even the things (re: nanba children) that by all accounts still should have.

it’s a disappointment. it feels like the easy way out.

but at the same time holy shit that ryuga & sento romance ending and the idea of the others even just potentially getting their memories back is like my IDEAL tropey shit i am so into that stuff oh my god dude!!! i cried so fucking hard just thinking about it!!

... so. yeah. conflicted might be the word for all of this.

i wish build had been better. i’m not sure what exactly happened, in that 2nd half. rewrites, i guess? the command that it now had to be compliant with the setting of the next rider, and so whoops time to do a little reality smushing & for some reason throw out all the other plot points? demands to toss in even more fucking merch like it didn’t have enough collectibles and upgrades already, good lord, even kids can’t possibly keep up with toy schedules like this, can they, like by the time you convince your parents to buy you [x] it’s already goddamn obsolete in the show --

but it’s hard to deny that build affected me in a big way. i got tired of it, near the end. but i’m glad i watched it all the way through. and i’ll never forget the absolute euphoria i felt watching, like, ep 12 to ep 30 or so. that stretch was a highlight of this entire franchise for me. it was like i was watching something made specifically for me. it was beautiful.

beautiful just like the suits in this show. damn. 

if only sawa had gotten one.