#and so she died in the most impossibly poetic way

[krashlite]

Thinking about how the death that broke the canary curse happened in the End and how the End has Strange Properties in general

Pulling this concept over with part of my self-inflicted-curse concept

With said concept Jimmy’s the canary because his hope and determination manifests in a sort of safety net around the server. He saves them through virtue of Being Alive and being a hopeful moron (/pos). Under normal circumstances, no one can die until he does

Lizzie was already in a hopeless state because she was so isolated. It was hard enough to hear the “song” from where she was, but her going to the End cut her off completely (again, weird qualities)

With the safety net gone, she’s able to fall

Also should say that while I don’t think Lizzie has the curse now, I do think her circumstances were essential in breaking it. She fell into a despair so deep even the manifestation of hope couldn’t save her

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[centaurianthropology]

My thoughts on C3E77

So apparently this one was controversial?

I'm going to say right now, I really loved everyone's decisions. They all fit the characters, but more they fit the players. I know that there are claims that Tal ignored all the warnings, but I actually think Matt may have misjudged the situation going in.

Ashley made it clear on 4SD that she did not want the shard. I think she's not really feeling the Dark Fearne storyline (and that's fair), and Matt seems to have missed that she genuinely didn't want to go down that route. Maybe he thought she was playing coy? Maybe they've been playing together so long he thought he knew a story she'd enjoy and missed her signals that she wasn't into it. I've done that before with some of my long-term players.

However that went down, Tal and she had a conversation after 4SD about what they wanted to do, and it was clear going into the episode that they at least had it planned out who was taking that shard, and it was going to be Ashton from the off. The fact that Matt was not expecting that somewhat surprises me. As Taliesin said: he put a big red backstory-shaped button in front of Ashton, and Ashton is terrified of losing people. If Fearne didn't want the shard, Ashton was going to dive on that grenade head-first. And part of Ashton wanted it. They are told they can't do something, and they will go about proving that old tree and everyone else wrong in the most self-destructive way possible. They are intensely punk in that way.

Matt may have designed the shard for Fearne, but this is not the first time that an item meant for one player ends up with another. Deathwalker's Ward was made for Percy, but through the events in the Sunken Tomb, it ended up with Vax and led to a hell of a story. And now something meant for Fearne goes to Ashton, and I have a feeling we're now in for another hell of a story. Because Ashton is now, essentially, a lava genasi, with three impossible things crammed into their broken body. Will they survive the campaign? I have no idea, but it has become clear that they don't expect to.

And honestly? This may well be what the Hells need, not in terms of power, but in terms of really realizing how self-destructive they all are. Marisha may say that no one loves a martyr, but Laudna was very much ready to play that role earlier this episode. Imogen is very self-destructive. So is Orym. So is FCG. The only two who have shown any degree of self-preservation are Fearne and Chet. The rest are bombs waiting for the most poetic moment to go off.

And today one of them did for a moment. They finally saw the end result that their self-destructive tendencies get them: Ashton blown into a thousand pieces, scattered across the top of the ziggurat. Deanna's ring saved him. Fearne's Aura of Life and FCG's Aura of Vitality saved him. Ashton could only roll and take damage.

Matt may have not designed it this way, but this was absolutely Ashton's 'where do you get your strength from' moment of the campaign, but in a very different way than Grog or Yasha experienced them. Because Ashton might just need this realization slapped into them by all their friends: this was dumb and they would have died because they didn't trust their friends. Because their strength and their salvation truly came from the people that love them.

Ashton has been, up until this point, a bit gung-ho to die for his friends. Honestly, they all are, and it's about time he and all the others learned how to live for their friends.

Anyway, hell of an episode, and a brutal but thrilling last hour. I was grinning right along with Sam. The mad fucker pulled it off by the skin of his teeth and by the grace of two friends dumping every bit of healing they had into him.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

my mum showed us this book they made showing some of my grandpa's work as a photographer for spanish singers and I wanted to share with you some of them <3 below I'll add a little description of the artist in case you don't know who they are

in order of appearance, they are:

massiel: she was the first spanish winner in eurovision in 1968 with 'la la la'. later in life she denounced the usage of the francoist regime of eurovision as a propaganda machine, and has remained vinculated to eurovision.

marisol: she was a child actress who suffered great abuse (as is usually the case) during her childhood and teenage years, working both as an actress and as a singer (she mostly starred - especially as a kid - in musical movies). she was also a member of the spanish communist party and has marxist ideas <3.

ana belén: she is one of the most iconic singers from the transition period (1975-1978) alongside her husband, víctor manuel (he was also photographied by my grandpa but i couldn't find a way his picture could fit). her songs have a strong social and political content, and she has also taken part in movies both as an actress and as a director. one of her most iconic songs is 'el hombre del piano', a spanish version of billy joel's piano man.

julio iglesias: he is perhaps one of the most successful spanish-speaking singers ever, having sold more than 150 million records. he is also part of the latin songwriters hall of fame. in 1983 he was celebrated for being the artist with songs in the most languages in the world, and in 2013 for being the best-selling male latin artist of all-time. oh and he has had a star in hollywood walk of fame since 1985, as well as having various grammys, latin grammys, billboard music awards, american music awards, etc. so yeah. he's a big deal (he's also the father of enrique iglesias who you might have already know). he represented spain in eurovision in 1970, with 'gwendolyne', which was his breakout hit.

nino bravo: he was one of the biggest spanish singers in the first half of the 70s, with massive hits and an incredible rise to fame that was tragically short, as he died in a car crash in 1973, when he was 28 (he only had 3 years of fame). my grandpa was a close friend of his, he even went to his wedding and appears in his memories. anyways, despite his short-lived fame, many of his songs are iconic and classics, possibly its best and most popular one is 'un beso y una flor', a karaoke classic.

joan manuel serrat: he is the singlemost imporant catalan singer-songwriter in history, with songs both in his native tongue and spanish (he's also my mother's favourite singer <3). he has a very poetic lyrical style, being influenced by poets like lorca, neruda, benedetti, machado, or alberti, and he even has some albums singing poetry of different spanish poets (the miguel hernández one is insane). he was also the pioneer of the nova cançó catalan movement, and he has been galardonated with highest honors in spain, as well as receiving the honorary latin grammy in 2014. his song 'mediterráneo' is for many - including myself - quite possibly the best spanish song ever (at least lyrically).

joaquín sabina: he is like a friend to me. my parents love him so they would always play his songs in long car rides and now i also love him his songs are incredible. he's actually a good friend of serrat and have toured together, their styles are similar only sabina isn't catalan (he's andalusian but lives in madrid) and his songs are more like stories than poems, he is inspired in baroque literature more than 20th century poets like serrat. just like serrat, he also has honorary awards by the ondas awards, the latin grammys, and various cities and regions in spain. it is literally impossible to choose only one of his songs to showcase here, but i'm afraid i have to go with 'y nos dieron las diez', one of his most popular songs, a karaoke classic, and the song we scream the loudest on the car with my family.

alejandro sanz: he is the most recent of all these singers, and currently the most famous spanish male singer i would say, only second to rosalía. he has won 22 latin grammys and 4 grammys, and he's collabed with artists such as alicia keys, shakira, or marc anthony. he's huge is what i'm trying to say lol. his breakout hit was 'corazón partío', in 1997, that still remains one of his most popular songs.

lola flores: she is everything to me istg. anyways. lola flores was a flamenco singer, dancer, and actress, that remains as one of the best folclóricas in history. just so you know, folclóricas were basically flamenco divas, think of them like that. she was iconic as fuck, antifa, feminist, and funny as hell. she is, as the english wikipedia says, 'a spanish pop culture icon'. you might also know her grand-daughter, actress alba flores. her most well-known song is probably 'ay pena, penita, pena'.

rocío jurado: just like lola flores, she is one of the most iconic and best folclóricas in history. just as her, she was both a singer and an actress, and she is remembered for having one of the best voices ever; in fact, in the year 2000 she won the new york times' prize 'the voice of the millenium' for best female voice of the 20th century. she is also iconic and regarded almost like a minor goddess in flamenco circles (just like lola flores). her most well known song is the iconic 'como una ola'.

[mytalemyworld]

Who shot him could be solved in many ways…here are my thoughts.

I think the spoilers said it was Neslihan who would shoot Serhan which was the most plausible option for me. Because the woman has had enough. How many times did her children suffer at the hands of Serhan? Plus she clearly stated in the beginning of the episode that he would never hurt her children again. She was aggressive, arguing with everybody, didn't seem to show her usual logical side. So I would definitely expect that from her.

However after the show had been renewed, the finale script changed, some parts were cut and we saw Neslihan unconscious. (Well, she still can regain her consciousness though, it's not impossible you know)

The other possibilities:

Why can it be him?

What wouldn't a desperate father do for his son? He doesn't hesitate to kill for his family and doesn't need to carry a gun. He can find one from the sleeping bodyguards. I think they're loaded and Serhan didn't take their guns.

Why can't it be him?

1.) The way Yaman said "what did you do?"

Children don't use formal language when they talk to their parents in Turkish culture however they usually add "dad/mom" at the end of their sentence. It was like Yaman was talking to someone around his age or someone who is close but not his parents.

2.) We didn't hear any car approaching. If the front door is open, the car must enter first. Why did he stop outside? If the front door is closed how can he sneak in without making a sound?

Why can it be him?

Serhan: Don't scream. Only Alaz is left however he is not at home.

1.) This is a bad sign like pointing out an obvious option. Only he can help but he is not there. Well, he might be on the way, evil dad.

2.) Why can't it be Güven? - reason 1.

3.) His motives? He has had enough too. He lost a sister, the love of his life, a child which he doesn't want but still can make him unstable more than he already is. He says he doesn't have any reason to move on. And if he sees his "dear" dad once again is trying to kill his other sibling, well don't expect him to act rationally. He might use the gun that belongs to the bodyguards.

Some poetical karmatic reasons: So, a long time ago in a galaxy far away... there was a scene in one of the best Yabani episodes. (I am sorry for being dramatic, but sometimes it felt like it happened in another universe) Alaz chose Asi over Yaman and almost killed him. So in a way Asi was the reason Yaman almost died. And Alaz was the tool.

In the season finale, Asi assured and promised Neslihan that she would bring Alaz back and nothing would happen to him or he wouldn't do anything bad because she would be with him. But we knew everything went wrong. He didn't stay with her and she shut the door in his face.

So if it really turned out to be him, Asi would be the reason Yaman survived and Alaz, again, would be the tool. A vicious cycle would come to an end.

Little Yaman Ali saved little child Asi, grown up Asi saved Alaz in some ways and Alaz would save Yaman. Every debt would be settled for good.

Hmm, also if the little Leia was still alive, we might see Obi-Yaman-Ali-Wan hiding her from her dad....yeah, a time jump, a darker Yabani...anything can happen.

Why can't it be him?

Because it will ruin him. Because he will be completely lost. Because he will never forgive himself. Because probably this will also affect his bond with his unborn child that exists for now. Because I will call you ruthless if you do so, dear writers.

Sigh, okay, I will be serious.

1-) Why can't it be Güven? - second reason applies him too. If the door is closed he must come from a different way but honestly, this must be shown in a very detailed way, I don't know, except maybe he is already inside which brings to my mind the other options.

Osman or Elif.

I know Osman is asleep but he might have woken up because of the voices. And Serhan was shot from a place where he was sleeping.

Elif would make sense too. But this is the weakest possibility because she is always so useless and whoever shot Serhan seems to be inexperienced. He's shot twice and a police would be more coolheaded I think.

Anyway...Whatever suits the plot and story, they will choose that option. They never try too hard to make it sense however there's a %1 probability that they will think about this a little more than their usual plot lines.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

The One (3)

For the Phic Phight prompts: Soulmate Au where after your soulmate  dies, you can only see in black  and white. As in you see normal colors  until they die and then only in  black and white for the rest of your  life, so you only ever know if you  had a soulmate once it's too late.  Except Character A's (up to you who  you want it to be) soulmate is  Danny. While Danny is in Phantom form,  character A's vision is in black  and white, but returns to normal color  when Danny is Fenton. Character  A is going crazy trying to find their  soulmate who keeps dying and  getting resurrected. (from @ghostboidanny) and Wes is the first one to find out Danny's secret. No One Knows AU. (from @murphy-kitt)

Chapter 3: With New Full Color Pages

First | Previous | Next

AO3 Link

[Warnings for death mentions and light stalking (because it’s Wes)]

Wes spent the next few weeks looking up newspapers from all over the Midwest, trying to find any articles about accidents or incidents the day he stopped seeing color for the first time. He scoured hundreds of newspapers, maybe even thousands, to no avail. During that period his color vision disappeared and returned almost every day, sometimes more than once.

Though he'd been relieved the first time the colors returned, after the fifth time all he felt was dread for the next time they faded. Whoever his soulmate was, they were obviously not doing so great. They could die for good any day now, and he still hadn't found them!

While his focus was elsewhere, something incredible was happening right in his home town. Ghosts were invading Amity Park.

A lot of people still didn't believe it, Kyle especially didn't believe it, but after a spectral lunch lady nearly destroyed the entire school with meat creatures just because that one goth girl lobbied for a vegan day, Wes was inclined to believe. Luckily not all the ghosts were bad. There was at least one ghost keeping the others in line.

He never stuck around long, so no one had ever gotten his name, but whoever he was, he seemed to be protecting the humans, so a lot of Casper High students had taken a liking to him right away. Wes probably would have too, but every time he showed up, Wes' vision went grayscale and he was too worried about his soulmate to think too much about the ghost boy.

It wasn't until after the papers had dubbed the ghost Inviso-Bill that Wes even learned what he really looked like. Paulina, the cheerleader, was waxing poetic about his gorgeous green eyes in history class, and Wes stopped cold. He leaned over his desk to talk to her.

"He has green eyes?" he asked her. She turned in her seat to look at him with disdain. He'd never understand why she did that. After all, he was a jock too; he was a starter on the Basketball team this year.

"Uh, yeah," she said obviously. "They're so gorgeous and they glow like stars. Have you never seen him?" She rolled her eyes and turned back around, clearly not looking for an answer.

"Not in color," he mumbled to himself, leaning back in his seat thoughtfully.

Wes' family had always called him 'creative' to his face, and 'crazy' behind his back, because he had a tendency to come up with wild theories about the way the world worked. One of those wild theories was starting to form in his brain just then. Even he knew that it was insane, that it was impossible. Unless.... well, unless it wasn't.

The first thing Wes had to do to test his theory was compare all the times his vision had gone black and white to all the times Inviso-Bill had been spotted. He'd kept a log in his notebook since the third time it happened, writing down when the colors faded and when they returned, to compare with newspapers. That was turning out to be pretty useful now. Next, he talked to some people at school, where Inviso-Bill was seen most often, to get approximate times of when he was spotted.

Sure enough, every time Inviso-Bill was spotted aligned with a window where Wes' soulmate had been briefly dead. There were some periods where Wes couldn't see color but Inviso-Bill hadn't been seen, but that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't been around. They guy could turn invisible, after all.

Once he'd verified that, Wes dusted off his old camera and started carrying it with him. He needed to get some clear shots of Inviso-Bill if he was going to figure out who he was when he was alive. Sure enough, the next time Wes stopped seeing color, moments later, the ghost was spotted.

While most people were running away, Wes sprinted toward the raging battle. It was not easy to get clear shots of the ghost while he was fighting what appeared to be a massive dragon—which was intensely cool, by the way—but Wes managed to get at least one decent shot of Inviso-Bill standing up after being thrown into the bleachers. The colors returned while Wes was looking at the shots he'd gotten, and he looked up to see the ghost boy and the dragon both gone.

When he got home, Wes hung up his old cork board. The best thing about no longer sharing a room was that Kyle wasn't around to make fun of him for having a conspiracy board. He pulled his tin of thumbtacks out of his desk drawer while his photos printed. Inviso-Bill, as it turned out, didn't look all that much different in color. Except for the fact that, just like Paulina had said, he had glowing green eyes.

"Who are you?" Wes asked as he pinned the clearest photo onto the center of the cork-board. He huffed out a breath. "I guess it's up to me to find out."

He started by combing through the most recent Casper High yearbook. Luckily, Wes had the benefit of knowing exactly when Inviso-Bill first died—providing his theory was correct, so there was no need to look through older yearbooks. Him being a Casper High student was more of a hunch. The ghost boy seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time saving the high school, although, that could've been because ghosts happened to attack there more often for some reason.

Wes circled some people in the yearbook that look like they could be Inviso-Bill, but none of them were quite a match. It was also hard to get an idea of their heights based on a head and shoulders yearbook photo. Matthew Davidson, for example. His yearbook photo looked very similar to Inviso-Bill, but Wes knew him, and knew that he was a good foot taller than the ghost, which—unless he died from being vertically compressed—took him off the list of suspects.

The only problem with identifying suspects from the previous year's yearbook was that none of the current freshman were in it. Inviso-Bill was kind of short and scrawny, so Wes theorized that, if he was a Casper High student at all, he was probably a freshman, or maybe a sophomore. So he had to talk Kyle into getting the school records for him so he could compare them with local middle school yearbooks.

"I want you to write my English essay on Animal Farm for Mr. Lancer's class," Kyle said when Wes asked what he'd need in exchange for hacking the school.

"No."

"Come on, please?" His brother pouted imploringly. "You're way better at writing essays than I am!"

"Yeah, I know," Wes crossed his arms, "and Mr. Lancer knows too, and he will one-hundred percent notice if I write your essay for you. I'm not gonna get detention for this."

"Then I won't hack the school records for you."

"Oh, come on!" Wes groaned and threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine, how about this. I won't write your essay for you, but I'll proof-read all your English homework for the month. You still have to do it yourself, but it'll at least bring your grade up, and I know English is your worst subject."

Kyle thought about it for a long moment, tapping his bottom lip with his index finger. "For the semester," he countered.

"Only if you also help me study for my math finals."

"Deal."

"Then deal."

Wes had the school records by the end of the day. Getting his hands on middle school yearbooks was a pain in the ass, but he managed. Eventually, he narrowed it down to the three most likely suspects, based on appearance. Martin Pierce, Liam Greene, and Daniel Fenton.

Upon investigation, he discovered that, despite being in the Casper High records, Liam Greene had actually moved away before the school year had even started. Probably something unexpected, like family member in another state getting sick, or his parents getting a big job opportunity in another city. In any case, he didn't live in Amity Park anymore, so he was off the list.

And then there were two.

"Hey," Wes stopped a guy in the hallway. He didn't know the freshman's name, but he'd seen the kid hanging around Daniel Fenton, and he was pretty sure they were close. "You're Fenton's friend, right? What's your name?"

"Tucker," the boy said. "Who's asking?"

"Name's Wes," he introduced. "What can you tell me about Fenton?"

"Why?" Tucker narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Time to spin the wheel of excuses.

"I heard he was a good student," Wes said. His middle school yearbook had shown the kid grinning widely in front of his first place science fair project, so he felt like it was a safe assumption. "I'm looking to recruit people for the school newspaper club. You earn extra credit if you join."

Tucker snorted. "He used to be. Every since he started high school, Danny's grades have sunk big time. You must be thinking of his sister. Jazz is the brainiac."

Of course, his grades could've dropped for any number of reasons, but Wes imagined dying and then fighting seemingly endless ghosts didn't leave a whole lot of time for homework. It wasn't any more of a stretch than thinking the kid was a ghost in the first place.

"Well, what can you tell me about her then?" he asked. The two of them were siblings, so it would make for a decent start. "Home life, interests, stuff like that?"

"Well... their parents think they're ghost scientists, but they're not what I would call good at it," Tucker answered consideringly. "I'm pretty sure Jazz is into, like, psychology and stuff. I don't think she'd be interested in the school newspaper."

"Ah, well, it was worth a shot," Wes said with a shrug. "I don't suppose you'd be interested?"

"Not on your life," came the derisive response, and then Tucker was walking away down the hall.

His parents were ghost scientists. That was promising. Who knew what kind of crazy lab experiment of theirs Danny might've stumbled into? The ghost boy did wear some kind of jumpsuit, it could totally have been a protective suit of some kind. Maybe a lab accident could explain how he could be both dead and alive.

Danny became all the more promising when Martin Pierce turned out to be a complete bust. Pierce, had shaved his head since graduating middle school, and Inviso-Bill didn't have a buzz cut. According to his friends, Martin had started shaving his head over the summer, which meant there was no possibility that he'd had a different haircut on the day Wes had first seen in black and white.

That left Danny Fenton.

From that day onward, Wes kept a very close eye on Fenton, as close as he could, anyway. He'd see the boy run into the bathroom and never come out again. He'd see the boy flinch violently when he got a static shock from a metal doorknob. Once, he'd seen his eyes flash bright green when he was angry, for the briefest of moments. Then, finally, he saw it.

Danny must've thought no one was watching. He looked around, and Wes ducked out of sight. When he looked again, rings of light had appeared around Danny's middle and traveled up and down his body. When the light faded, Wes' color vision faded with it, and Inviso-Bill was standing right where Danny had been.

Wes' eyes widened and he leaned against the wall he was hiding behind as the ghost boy took off to fight the Box Ghost for the fourth time that week.

"Holy shit," he breathed out. "I can't believe I actually found my soulmate... and he's half dead."

[wulfrann]

10 Fandom, 10 Characters, 10 People

Thanks @moondal514 for the tag!

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same

This is an impossible task so I'm filling this up with how I'm feeling right now, impulsively, without thinking about it too hard. Ask me tomorrow it would be different. Also the order is arbitrary and means nothing.

1) Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist

THEE original gender envy. The boy. I thought I wanted to be with him when really I wanted to be him. and kiss Winry. Manga of all time. What else is there to say.

2) Ellana from the Ewilan & Marchombres Series by Pierre Bottero

She's the best Marchombre that ever was. She writes poetry. She's hot. She has claws. She is my childhood hero and role model. She is the best Bottero character ever. I am in love with her.

3) The Biologist from The Southern Reach by Jeff VanderMeer

I don't know her name and I don't care. If the first tome wasn't from her perspective I probably wouldn't have been so invested. I would never want to fix her because whatever's wrong with her is way more interesting. I wanna go look at tide pools with her even though she'd hate that because she'd much rather be alone.

4) Joy Wang from Everything Everywhere All At Once

Honestly choosing just one character from this movie is impossible, but Joy telling her mother that she's just tired is Top 10 moments of cinema that made me burst into tears. Also: she's gay. Also: she's depressed. Also: what a fucking icon. Also: her costumes.

5) Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Choosing between him and Castiel is fucking impossible but I had to follow my heart of hearts and if I had to choose I knew I had to make this choice. It is very cringe of me to shun THEE gay angel like this and I am very ashamed of myself but he would agree with me, so. I had to. Dean is simply too deeply unwell in such specific ways that I cannot resist the brain worms. Although, without destiel? He would be nothing to me.

6) Captain K.P. Hobb from Dimension 20: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Tragic furry goblin man. His pathetic devotion to a court and its values in spite of their being drastically at odds with his honorable and rigid nature has bewitched me.

7) Fi Carmichael from Planetes by Makoto Yukimura

Everytime I re-read the arc that's centered on her and her family I sob like a little kid. Also she almost died to prevent a terrorist attack just because she wanted to smoke a cigarette.

8) Cliopher Mdang from the Lays of the Hearth-Fire by Victoria Goddard

Kip my best friend Kip. He invited the Sun on Earth, God-emperor of the world, to take a vacation, and it changed the fucking world. Number one most epic secretary ever. He has 50-something cousins. I want to be invited to one meal with him so bad, I just wanna talk to him like for 5 minutes, I know he's the busiest man in the Empire and also he's not real but like. Pretty please.

9) Sam Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings

THEE holder of hope for the whole trilogy. He's in gay love with Frodo and he can't carry the ring but he can carry him. I wish to kiss his forehead.

10) Andrew Minyard from All for the Game by Nora Sakavic

It's really hard to pick one character from this insane series but I mean. I had to.

Tagging: @aoquesth @lackluster-violet @poetic-ivy @planavarium @polzkadotz @newbornmoon @svnroom @cupcakedyke @herobrineawakening @makebelieveanything

[thechaoticfanartist]

grim's never been afraid of death, not really. she's been scared she would die, true, but she wasn't afraid of death. not really. grim would gladly sacrifice her own life if it saved somebody else's, she isn't afraid of death. she isn't afraid of dying.

at least, through most of the war. in the end, even then she isn't afraid of it. she isn't afraid of death or to die.

not until she's on her way to utapau to face grievous. to face order 66. because it hits her then, that there is the very real chance of death. it wouldn't be the first time, of course not. but this time was different.

this time not only was there the possibility that she would die, but she had the knowledge of so many others that would die too. and she knows all of their stories. but grim? she's the only story she doesn't know.

she knows obi-wan will live. but she's not obi-wan.

the one advantage grim has is that she knows it will happen. that won't save her. and how tragically poetic would it be if she died as a result of what she had given up her life to stop already?

she's convinced that this will be the end of her story. it will be a tragedy, and she'll die at the end of it.

and funnily enough, even though she has faced death many times by now. she's afraid. she doesn't want to die.

she begs obi-wan to not let her die. she makes him promise her he won't, knowing it's a promise that would be impossible to keep. knowing that this now, was the end.

and oh how poetic would it be if she died too?

she knows that no matter what her life would end for a second time. the first had been her choice and she had gained a new one with it. this time she would not be the one stolen from her life, her life would be stolen from her. she would not gain a new life with it.

she's never been afraid of death. and she's afraid.

[antiphotogenicfilmographer]

After having completed some amateur-at-best short film documentaries this semester, I decided to switch it all up and make an audio doc for this last project. The product I ended up with was “thanks for the memories,” which is an auditory ode to my grandparents.

This was an attempt at a new twist on my non-fiction film, made for my film major application. I thought a lot more about my intent in making the film and how different modes of documentary can best convey the emotions I want to explore. When you lose someone close to you, their voice is most likely the first part of them that you will forget. In “thanks for the memories,” I wanted to restore the voice of my grandparents to my life and remembrance. I collected almost every piece of video and audio I have of them and their voices and strung them together like a series of lucid memories.

I wanted the poetic mode to influence my work on this project, in an effort to provoke thought and reflection, and while every piece of audio says something literally, none of what is said is of any importance or note. Each clip is a very simple, everyday exchange, which was caught on home video. Besides the book ending clips of audio, documenting the degradation of my grandma’s memory a mere month before she died, the sequencing of the audio does not result in any sort of narrative being told. I wanted the listener to get the impression that they are clicking on random clips of audio they find on their phone, searching for any piece of remembrance, of comfort in their grief. I also edited it in a way that mirrors the human mind and our tendency to blur different memories into one memory. In order to convey that, I placed audio that had similar wording next to each other, so that it would be hard to distinguish between the two, not knowing when one clip changes into another. I took inspiration from both Rain and Berlin: Symphony of a Great City for this project, as I took very specific bits and pieces of life and synthesized them together to create a greater mood and experience.

The participatory mode was built into the very soil of this project. The subjects are my grandparents and thus, I could not remove any part of myself from the project without also removing them. Actually, my decision to make an audio documentary instead of a visual one was inspired by the film Nobody’s Business. The scenes where the filmmaker interviews his father, with absolutely no imagery backing the audio, just pure black background, struck me the most and felt like the most personal and intimate in the whole film. Such a decision makes the interaction between the filmmaker and their relative seem so much more real and reflective, as if the filmmaker themselves are making an effort to remember something the other said, closed eyes, hearing only voices and phrases from the loved one. The filmmaker’s relationship with the subject of their film is essential to performative documentaries and the authenticity of the project. My grandparents were no celebrities and making a documentary as if they were, would be impossible for me and insulting to them. We were so close, and I needed to portray that closeness in the project, or else it wouldn’t be any sort of reality. At the very least, I could convey my reality. Luckily, I had access to small interviews I did with my grandma a couple times throughout my time with her, which let me get closer to her when she was alive and feel closer to her now that she is dead.

Another mode I wished to utilize is the observational mode. Although I could never accomplish “cinema verité” with only audio, I tried my best to let the reality of each interaction in the clips I used shine through. I did so by making the decision to use no voice over. I used only archival audio, without prefacing the occurrences in the clips and my reasoning for using them. In fact, the audio I used was never intended to prove any sort of point but be a pure observation of audio and auditory memory. The whole documentary is more important than individual clips, just as the whole person being remembered is more important than the little, insignificant recollection of conversations we have had with them. One reason I wanted to use observational filmmaking is to create a feeling as though one is listening to an exhibit at the zoo or an art museum, crafting a sort of depersonalized, distant listening experience. Such an experience establishes a paradox when this piece of media is consumed. The audience must listen to something so personal and private, with no broader context, and feel the misery of missing out on something they were never a part of, while for me, I must experience the piece, having been a part of it, knowing that I can never have that again. My grandparents are dead, living on only through the records I have of them. This audio is a part of that life, but a painful reminder that this is all there is. It is like listening to ghosts.

It is found media. When I began this project, I remembered the section of our books that talked about home videos used to incriminate the Nazis in Germany, and though I am not incriminating my grandparents of anything, I too was working off of home video footage. It made me feel like I was uncovering something new, when placing each clip together. That is why this project has been so interesting to me. I only used pre-existing pieces of audio, which I happened to be a part of already, and edited them as if I wasn’t a part of them. That is how I managed to use both observational and performative modes of documentary, and in my opinion, that irony and juxtaposition is in of itself poetic.

Sound is such a gift, but in the visual world we live in, it gets drowned out. Photos and portraits of family members have existed for centuries, and while we now have video with audio, physical copies of familial audio are still hard to create and preserve. The clouds will only hold so much memory until our own memories are wiped out. We must prize the audio we have while we have it, because audio is the first thing we will lose and the first thing we will forget.

[sillyromances]

"I don't wonder about that at all. It's not random folk, it's family, and you wouldn't get so worked up if you didn't worry. I've always thought it must be part of what makes you so able to fight so hard for all of us." Mary Beth felt it, too, that feeling of being like family. Sure, it probably wasn't as strong for her as it was for Arthur, what with how long he'd been part of the gang - old guard, they called him -, but Mary Beth wasn't immune. When Mary Beth first followed them back to camp years ago, she'd thought she was moving from one dangerous situation to the other and was ready to run in the middle of the night, except what she walked into wasn't what she expected at all. Instead of it being some trick, she'd found herself people that cared, and that was more than Mary Beth could say about… well, anyone since her mama died.

Once, when Karen was railing on Miss Grimshaw for being a miserable old hag, Mary Beth had claimed it came from caring about them and Karen had thrown back that she only thought that because of her mama. That hadn't seemed fair at the time, but maybe this was something like that, Mary Beth reading into that roughness in a way that most people wouldn't.

What did it say about her, that a woman could slap her and make her cry, and Mary Beth would claim it came from a place of care, but a man could tell her something that delighted her, and she had to check that he wasn't fooling her?

"Maybe one day. I'd be willing to go back into the mountains for that. Who knows, maybe there are all kinds of impossible seeming discoveries in the mountains because it's too cold for anyone to want to be up there willingly." She knew that some people didn't care for the heat of Lemoyne, but Mary Beth enjoyed it even if it did come with bugs, the heat almost like being held and the view of the water was calming when nothing else was. She didn't know how long they'd stay in Lemoyne or where they'd move next whenever they inevitably did, but she hoped it wouldn't be anywhere too cold. Even if it was, she doubted they'd backtrack close enough for Arthur to get away with showing her the remains of a giant and part of Mary Beth wanted to suggest that Arthur sketch it for her, but she didn't for multiple reasons.

Firstly, while she didn't doubt his skills would be wonderful, it wouldn't really help her envision the true size. Secondly, as much as she liked to imagine how poetic and revealing the contents of Arthur Morgan's journal happened to be and would like to get her hands on it to read it, willing even to swap her own for the chance, asking him to draw her something seemed like a sneaky way of trying to get her hands on his journal. And third of all… well, it just felt selfish. After all, Arthur had to go off soon to provide for the entire gang, he didn't have time to be doing silly things like drawing a sketch for her.

When the law showed up after the train robbery Mary Beth gave Arthur the tip off on, she'd felt badly about it, almost responsible for bringing attention in their direction even though she hadn't known the law would show up. The law was always a risk and no one would fault her, she knew it, but while it had felt like such a big thing in the moment, it felt so small with Arthur laying everything out.

Expression going soft in the face of Arthur's worry, Mary Beth reached out to place a light hand on his arm. "There's nothing wrong with being able to have your own thoughts, Arthur. Looking out for us ain't a betrayal, you're just watching for what he might have missed and you can't do that by always thinking exactly like Dutch." Dropping her hand, Mary Beth wondered just when having any kind of thought of your own ended up being a betrayal, when Dutch started expecting mindless, thoughtless loyalty, but she didn't ask. "Maybe Dutch… just feels like he needs a win to prove himself after everything that's happened. Maybe he's trying so hard that he can't see the dust we're kicking up."

Which didn't make anything less worrisome, not with all the people out there who didn't like them. "Can I ask... what you want for the future, Arthur? I think we all know what Dutch says, but what do you see when you think about it?"

"It's just..." A pause as he chewed his cheek, eyes moving fast with no focus as if his head was somewhere else. "I really care 'bout this gang. It don't seem that way sometimes, I know, but since the day Dutch started addin' people in our gang, I felt responsible for 'em. And people wonder why a sour-faced outlaw would care 'bout a group of random folk? I dunno. I just... I just care. They're my family." Some members of the gang would accuse Arthur of going soft, all guns. Bill, in special, seemed disappointed that his lead enforcer wasn't as wild and violent as he used to be. But, of course, Arthur was just part of a bunch of outlaws; they all knew how to use a gun. Then, the girls joined them, older men, and now there was a child among them -- of course he wouldn't act like a crazy maniac, risking his life and others' as before. As if Bill Williamson's opinion meant something to him, anyway.

Still, he was a man among other men; their lead enforcer, their main gunman. Arthur couldn't simply show weakness. He built a wall between him and the rest of the guns, most of them, so they would respect him as they should. He didn't feel like socializing so much with them, not in personal terms. Arthur couldn't confess his own troubles to them, because if he did, they would see him as a weak man. Dutch always kept saying that Arthur should put them in their places, and tell them who's boss during a gunfight. So he would do it, no problem. However, behind that thick cover of sourness and anger, Arthur hid a very sensitive man; he enjoyed the company of women, telling them that he liked to listen to what they had to say; he opened up more to guns like Lenny and Charles, because he sensed both were good people. Lenny loved reading, knew how discrimination worked, yet he didn't allow society to bend him. Charles built a wall of his own between himself and the rest of the gang, but he allowed Arthur to come closer, showing he was a kind man.

And he appreciated Mary-Beth's presence in the gang. She would listen to him without any kind of judgment, and she was indeed interested in his adventures. The mention of the giant was an example of her genuine excitement; and people wondered why Arthur was so protective of her. He didn't want the world to hurt her innocent and kind soul. "I ain't makin' fun of ya. I'm bein' serious. Wish I coulda shown it to you personally. Who knows, right? Maybe one day." He laughed heartily, glancing at the horizon sometimes. Her words made sense, nonetheless; the gang preached freedom, yet some of the members couldn't even leave the campsite. It was something Arthur thought a lot about -- the contradictions, especially after the Blackwater fiasco.

That brought his thoughts back to the young mother Dutch murdered on that boat. Arthur never saw what happened, but he couldn't stop pondering the moment. "What happened in Valentine was the consequence of wha' we did up Granite Pass. We robbed a Cornwall train, after all. I ain't pretendin' to be blind no more... things are changin' for us, outlaws. We been sloppy as hell, we actin' like a bunch of killers for wha'?" He frowned lightly, though his voice was still calm, there was a tone of frustration in it.

He gave her a nod, agreeing with her analogy to the plays. "Exactly that. We ain't just a small groups of hot-headed bastards no more. We have people to take care of, people to protect. Yet Dutch acts like he's still in his all glory, durin' the golden days of the wild west." He looked distressed now. "It ain't like I wanna undermine 'im or somethin'. I ain't no traitor. The thing is, Mary-Beth, I'm just worried. Worried 'bout us, our future. The world has changed, and they don't wanna folks like us no more."

[darkdisrepair]

c3e36 predictions - how the tables turn

theoretically if they revive laudna to how she was before she died (a la fanfic style, true res, divine cutting the cord or whatever, i don't really know the details) -

wouldn't that be so terribly poetic, for her and imogen?

here is a girl who has lived more of her life in limbo than not, returned to how she once was, given the life and the freedom that she has longed for so desperately (whether she knows that or not, i'm convinced some of her protectiveness of imogen is a melancholy for what could have been)

maybe tied to delilah still, maybe not - but whole. herself. returned home, to the arms of her friends and her family, returned to the people she loves and the people she died for, given a second (third) chance at life. at her own power.

it's beautiful, isn't it? the thought that maybe, even this early on, that in some ways laudna is almost there? of all of the members of bh, after this, i think she will have the most control over her past and will be the most equipped to handle it, even if when she is resurrected she is still in part tied to delilah.

i don't think delilah will last that much longer, nor should she. she's had her time as the ultimate villain. if not this next episode, soon.

and yet, on the other side of the coin, here is imogen, tethered to a woman who haunts her every waking moment, the woman who murdered her friends in front of her eyes, running from a destiny and a power that's building inside her, always wondering when she'll lose control-

imogen, guilt-ridden for being the survivor. for not doing more, knowing more, seeing what was going to happen. being trapped into an impossible situation by a murderer, her living nightmare.

how awful. how ironic, and how dreadfully familiar that story is, isn't it?

[cocogum]

Casey is lost.

It’s tragic to realize that the original timeline was supposed to truly end with everyone dying on their own by sacrificing themselves to protect what’s left of their home planet.

Despite the low numbers and chances of survival from this whole experience, the brothers did not care and still kept trying to live until their last breaths.

Because of this movie, we come to find out that all the funny shenanigans and good memories that the Hamato family experienced were for it to all end in tragedy and loneliness.

It’s strange to think that THIS was in actuality the original timeline (and demise) for the turtles. Because it’s a bit hard to believe that they had created so many memories together during missions that they finally can’t complete one. And yet, it’s the most realistic ending for these four.

With so many good things happening to you, you’re bound to receive some bad ones later on. Yes, the turtles had a long life and managed to get so many adventures before it all came crashing down on them. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe that’s acceptable. They died in tragedy but a good sleep will do them good.

Not to mention that it’s quite ironic and poetic that all of those horrific tragedies happened because of Leo’s cockiness.

It all started with Leo. And it ended with Leo.

There is a reoccurring theme in the movie that keeps on supporting Leo no matter what action he presses on the team to do.

And that is the theme of time.

Throughout the movie, there was a repeated conversation about the same topic going on between Leo and Donnie that introduces the idea that no matter how a situation may look impossible, anything is possible. Donnie seems to reject that way of thinking while Leo completely adopts it. We have Donnie explaining why this belief of his brother is deeply flawed based on the reality of things and how not everything just coincidentally goes according to him.

This theme took place in two scenes.

The first was right in the beginning with the pizza box challenge and the second was when they were about to sneak into Krang’s ship.

But it looks like whatever type of danger was thrown at the family, it seems like Leo’s perseverance and unbelievable luck were right all along while Donnie’s logic and realistic views were mistaken.

Or as Leo delicately puts it:

“Donnie’s WRONG!”

Yeah, sure everything went fine after Leo put Krang back in the prison dimension but this success means that a new timeline has been added to the original one.

Saving the world before Krang could have had access to his army meant that the timeline split itself and now has a second-time branch.

This not only reinforces the fact that rise!tmnt is inconspicuously darker than it intends to be, but it also means something big for Casey.

He’ll never actually see his timeline again.

He’ll never see his masters and his mother.

And he’ll never know what happened to the rest of his comrades who were fighting before Casey entered the portal made by Mikey.

Your choices are what shape you as a person over time. Now that the events of the past have been altered, it’s highly likely that the Hamato family will not act the same way Casey once knew them as.

Just because Casey knows these people, that doesn’t mean they’ll grow up to act the same way they did in his timeline.

Even though everyone had a happy ending, Casey is, unfortunately, the only one who doesn’t have one whether he realizes it or not. His friends and family aren’t there. They were long gone in a future that has been unwillingly abandoned by him.

He would literally never see the people he cares about ever again.

Casey might not even meet himself in this timeline.

It is unclear who his father could be but the chances of Cassandra meeting him again without the apocalypse could be very thin.

The krang invasion is what brought people from everywhere together. This is where she must’ve met him and had Casey. So since the krang’s attack never happened in this timeline, Cassandra might never meet Casey’s father and have him.

Leo was so caught up in the events of the potential threat of the Krang invasion that he, along with everyone else, did not think about the consequences that it would bring.

Everything comes with a price.

Whether they won or lost the battle, there would always be good things and bad things trailing their actions.

This is one of them.

Defeating the Krang before the invasion could happen has likely made sure that Casey won’t exist in this timeline.

Sure, the Casey from the timeline where they lost against the Krang can still live in the second timeline. But he’ll be aware that he’ll never exist in this one. In a timeline where people don’t have to live in caves, don’t have to eat rats for every meal of the day, don’t have to constantly hide in fear of getting killed, don’t have to listen to horrifying stories about the invaders, and don’t have to hear the cries and wailing of the people who lost their loved ones during missions.

His existence never belonged in a happy carefree one.

“Our future isn’t written until WE write it!”

Leo’s quote may be the cruellest thing Casey has ever heard.

Can you imagine being in one of the turtles’ shoes?? Like they have to eat rats for dinner that’s like trying to eat your dad’s ancestry. And they eat that for EVERY SINGLE MEAL for the rest of their lives??? Who even decided that they should all eat rats?!!!?!

[supercorpkid]

Rescue Mission – Suicide Mission.

Part 4 - Not a fair fight.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader, Eliza Danvers x Granddaughter!Reader.

Word count: 2480.

Warnings: Injuries. Pain. Angst. Some graphic fight scenes I guess.

Previously on the series - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Whatever it cost.

Your life has been put at stake before. You almost died three or four times. Honestly, too much for a 16-year-old-girl. But this. This is different. There’s no aunt Alex to call for help, no Supergirl coming in to help you pick up the pieces. No Lena waiting for you at home with comfort hugs and donuts.

You land on the DEO, shaking. You thought about not coming the entire way here. What if you just wait until Supergirl wakes up so she can help? Would it be that bad?

“Brainy!” You call him, and he turns around to you. Tablet in hands, still monitoring the shapeshifters. “Can we wait until my momma wakes up? Then we can go for them. I mean, I didn’t see much damage around the city so-”

“We can’t.” He stops you.

“Why? Honestly, we both know I’m no match for a shapeshifter.” You say, and Brainy looks up from his tablet.

“Oh.” He smiles a little. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

“I’m sorry?” But it doesn’t take long until you tie all the knots. Of course. Of course you couldn’t trust anybody!

Brainy turns into Supergirl right in front of your eyes, and hits you with a blow of freeze breath that throws you back down. You fall, all fours, and look up to the shapeshifter in front of you.

“You are definitely not a match for us.” It presses something in the tablet and soon you hear a woosh of air coming from containment and landing a punch on your face.

Shit! Fuck! Damn it!

It played you just right! Made you believe that you could trust ‘Brainy’ because he found your family, and imprisoned one of the shapeshifters, but it was obviously just a plan. Now both are here in front of you, and if one was already hard enough, two looks impossible to beat.

You get up and fly out of the DEO. First superhero rule: if possible, take the fight to where no civilians can get hurt, so you will have less casualties. In this case, maybe just yours is enough.

The other two Supergirls fly right behind you. You feel one of them grabbing your feet and tossing you back to the ground. You fly up less than a palm before your body hits the concrete. You keep flying farther away from the city, but it’s forced to stop sooner than you would like.

One of the Supergirls punches you down, and you feel your body smashing against a boulder in the desert, making a hole on the hard rock. Dust rises up and around you. You cough, getting up from the hole and you look at both aliens in front of you, using your momma’s pretty face. You can’t win. You wouldn’t be able to win even if you were up against just one Supergirl, let alone two. You breathe deep. You were right. Two Kryptonians are better than one. You just wish this advantage were to your side.

“So, it was you all along.” You yell from a distance.

“I told you not to trust anyone.” You hear Kara’s voice and your heart beats faster. “But I suppose you are just a kid.”

“I am.” You agree with your head, taking a deep breath. “But I am her kid!”

You fly towards them, punching one in the face, making it fall in the hard rock, like you did, breaking it off in the process. But you won’t give it a chance of recovery. You fly down, settling on top of its body. Kara’s body.

“You don’t deserve this face!” You say, giving it another punch. “You don’t deserve these powers!” Another one. “You don’t deserve to wear this crest on your chest!” It’s where you punch after and you watch the alien losing its breath, looking as beat up as you found your momma. You raise your fist again, ready to end it, and feel the other alien grabbing your hand.

“What makes you think you do?” It says, flying high with you, while you try to untangle yourself from its firm grip. When you look up again, it has changed its form. You’re face to face with yourself.

“I’m not a phony!” You twist around, and it drops your hand, kicking you in the chest instead. You fly far away, trying to regain your breath. “But now it’s a fair fight.”

“Is it?” It asks, tilting its head at you. You look at your face staring at yourself on the other side and smile. Yes. Now it’s a fair fight. You know your strengths, and you know your weaknesses. And you have so many of them.

It flies closed fist at you, but you saw it coming, it’s always your first move. You fly out of the way, hitting its back with your heat vision, making it fall on the ground, raising up dirt all around it.

“You can’t win.” Supergirl gets up from the hole it was in. Oh, come on, it was almost gone. You use your heat vision again, but it’s met in the middle with its own heat vision. Shit, this is useless. Fighting Kryptonians it’s a fucking hell.

The other alien rises from the ground, and you see yourself between both of them. You don’t have a lot of options, it’s clear to you. You can run, but where to? You can buy yourself time, but for what? Help isn’t coming, you know that.

“We shouldn’t both waste our time with this kid.” Fake Supergirl says, almost ignoring your presence right there between them. “You know where she took them. Go get them.”

Breath stops midway. Heart stops mid beat. Time slows at its own accord.

No. Not them. Not your family.

“Oh yes, we should thank you, by the way.” The other Superkid flies to Supergirl’ side, and your eyes are filled with tears with the sight of that. You wanted that. You wanted a Superkid and Supergirl team-up. Instead, two monsters are using your faces, bodies and powers. They don’t seem to acknowledge your discomfort with the scene, as they go on.

“Getting the whole family together in one place. You just made our job a lot easier. Now we can kill Supergirl and everyone she loves in just one blow. And you? You’ll be alive to see it all going down with your help.”

You swallow hard knowing they are right. You helped. You thought you were the one doing the saving, but they were letting you. They were playing you, so you can do the job for them and that’s why it felt so easy. That’s why you encountered almost no resistance; it was all for this moment right here.

It’s your fault Lena has no memories. It’s your fault Jamie was taken. It’s your fault Supergirl is not here defending the city and the family. And now it will be your fault they’ll kill all your family in one blow.

You feel something burning inside of you. It’s not anger, it’s not sadness. It’s a mix of all the feelings you once had. It’s the slow burn of love, and the heavy taste of hate on your mouth. It’s the bittersweetness of having such a strong and rotten last name, and the wonderfulness of being a part of this family. It’s the cautiousness of hiding your powers, and the relentless yearn of letting go and bursting into flames, destroying everything and everyone on your way. But most of all, it’s that moment where ‘you should do better’ kicks the ‘you’re doing great’ to the side of the curbs and takes a hold on you.

You could even try to hold this feeling inside you, but you know better. This is the time to stop thinking, stop using your powers, and let them use you instead.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” You say with a little smile playing on your lips.

Fighting two of them was never going to be a fair fight and you know it. Even with you letting your powers take over you, even after beating them, even with this faintest feeling that you might -just might- pull this off because you’re fighting for the right reasons.

It doesn’t take long until you find yourself trapped under both getting punches after punches. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth. You know you’re going to lose. You’re minutes away from blacking out.

You have been beaten down before. By red kryptonite Kara, by villains using green kryptonite against you, by aliens from another dimension, by your own fears and your anxiety. You were once beaten down to the point of suffocation. You were once covered in your own blood and vomit. For time and time again, you thought you were going to die. Once you even prayed that you would.

This moment right here, feels like another one of those. You can feel it. When they’re beating you down so hard your blood is the one splashing on their faces, when you slowly feel yourself losing consciousness. When the last thing you see before your mind goes totally blank is Lena’s eyes and Kara’ smile. Maybe this is the last time you feel you are going to die. Maybe this time you’re actually dying.

And you know what comes next. They’ll go to the Fortress. March in there using your face. It’s your face your family is going to see blowing up the entire place. And when they realize it’s not you, it will be too late, they will be doomed. Your whole family will be destroyed like they promised in the message.

You won’t accept it. You may die, but your family won’t.

You untangle yourself from them. Grab Supergirl’s cape -capes are lame, you still remember that- and fly up. Up. Up. Up. The other shapeshifter follows you, trying to catch you before you do what they understand now it’s going to happen.

“If you do this, you will die!” You hear Kara’s voice. But it’s not her, and you know your Kara would do anything to protect her family. Anything.

“I don’t care if it kills me. All I care about is taking you down with me!” You say and you reach the exact point. You know if you keep going, you’ll be too far gone. You almost died in outer space once. You don’t know exactly how you survived, but you know this time you can’t pull it off again.

You hold Supergirl’s cape stronger and spin it around. You see the shapeshifter trying to change its form, but it’s too late. You toss it into space and look down to the other one.

“Two Superkids dying in outer space together is almost… Poetic.” You fly towards the other shapeshifter, the one with your face.

“You don’t want to do this.” It says, staring at you, like it's looking at your soul.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You grab its throat and look up. “But it’s whatever it costs!”

Up. Up. Up.

No air left in your lungs, no other thought except that this is the right thing. Dying was never going to feel right but dying for your family, it’s the closest you could ever feel to death being right.

The other you are now transformed back into its ugly alien form, turning blue. They’re gone. It’s over.

You close your eyes feeling light-headed and you feel like crying. It doesn’t matter if it’s the right thing or if it’s for your family, you still don’t want to die, and you’ll still miss them.

You know this won’t matter. But maybe, just maybe, the watch will send them a signal and Kara will come for your body when she wakes up. That way they can mourn you properly. All of them, but Lena since she doesn’t even remember you anymore. At least she won’t suffer, you think. You press the emergency watch. And you’re out.

“Will you please stop going to outer space?” You hear softly in your ear, and you open your eyes trying to focus them on what is before you. Blonde locks flying in the wind, a perfect baby blue sky over you, and that warm smile only one person in this universe has. “I’ve got you, little one. You’ve got me before; I’ve got you now.”

You smile. And before passing out again you think that you have to stop almost dying. It’s starting to get truly exhausting.

You open your eyes, looking around to make sure you actually didn’t die. It’s stupid, you know, but still you find it’s hard to believe you pulled it off. Somehow you pulled it off.

Alex is in the bed next to you, awake, finally. Brainy is also in a bed, the real one that was probably hurt by the shapeshifters so one of them could take his place. Kara is pacing around nervously, and the rest of the family are also in the infirmary, creeping around the sick ones.

“You fucking dipshit!” Jamie slaps your arm, and you almost feel the sting. “I told you to come back. You promised you would come back whatever it costs!”

“Well… I’m here.” You give her a little smile and she rolls her eyes, full of tears. Next thing you know, she is hugging you tight, and sobbing on your suit.

“I hate you.” She whispers in your ear, and you smile, while the whole family looks at both of you. “I hate you and your hero complex.”

“I love you too.” You smile and she lets go of you with a smile. Kara is the next one to throw her arms around you and kiss your temple.

“You’re the best superhero in this town.” She says, and you almost believe her. Almost.

“Mom.” You let go of Kara and look around in the room. “Where is she?”

They all stare at you blankly. No one says a thing.

“Where is Lena?” You demand, and Kara drops her head low and lets out a sigh.

“We’re gonna get her back, kid.” Her hand cups your face, and she strokes your cheek. You see the pain in her eyes, and you feel tears forming on yours. “One thing at a time.”

Your heart squeezes on your chest, and you forget about the fact that you were probably actually dead for at least a minute, not long ago. This doesn’t seem remotely important, as Lena not having her memories and not knowing who you are right now. You almost died, and your mom is not here to hold you gently and say, ‘you’re ok babygirl’.

Kara seems to be able to read your mind, like Lena usually does, when she puts her hand on your knee and gives it a gentle and assuring squeeze. “One thing at a time, baby.”

[mysticetus]

I think the piece of Petscop I'm trying to parse through is Lina. Always Lina. The Windmill Girl. Anna's sister. She disappeared. She died. She was reborn. Rainer made a grave for her in game. "They didn't see her." But yet. In a way almost impossible: "[Lina] in driver's seat. Me in back." "Family."

Did she die at all? Or did a piece of her die? What did Marvin do? What is rebirthing? What was the Windmill? If he was so intent on creating Tiara, an optimal version of Lina, then what happened? What did he do? What did he do? What did he do?

My brain is still doing the mental gymnastics to connect it all together

hi there i saw this ask late last night but im finally answering it. heres a response i typed at 3 am while kinda mad (you didnt make me mad, im just mad at the world):

what i find so poetic about lina is it doesnt matter what marvin did because the story is about the aftermath of it rather than the inciting incident itself. Its not our business what happened, rainer of course asks “what did you do?” but petscop exists in the aftermath. We exist in the aftermath. Nobody but marvin and lina knows what happened at the windmill, probably. The windmill itself is likely a metaphor. But it ultimately does not matter what any of it means. It could be anything and the story would still apply. I like petscop because it allows room for that. It doesnt ask what happened and it never shows you what happened. A lot of people love to ask what happened. But does it matter? What matters is the gaping holes and destructive craters it left behind, in all the people around it. most stories would love to tell you what happened in horrific detail, because the horror of what happens to people is engaging. This is something that keeps me up at night and causes me to shake with rage. Rainer plays the part of someone trying to dig into a tragedy out of reach. Grave robbery is vile. He came to learn this, and hes a piece of shit for it. Asking and digging reopens old wounds, to satisfy this hunger to know what happened, and why? Because its just so scary you cant look away? It eats at you? It eats at lina too, probably. It eats at care.

As for what im going to add to this now at 1 PM, i like that lina is able to exist in this quasi-dead state. its how it feels when something bad happens to you. rainer's definition of deceased is dubious and i think he doesnt mean literally dead when he creates a grave and mourns someone. you can feel unseen when these things happen to you, too. not everyone can see you but some people can. see death/bad girl by black dresses for more info <- dont actually

also i personally dont understand the reading that tiara is an ideal form of lina, or really any kind of predetermined entity at all, its more like a husk for belle to step into. in my eyes.

the more i talk about this the more i feel like im lowering myself into a vat of acid. basically i think you shouldnt sweat it. the way i see it its far less grounded in reality than you think and you kind of just have to see beacons

[mobagehelllocal]

“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii

Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.

*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).

It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.

The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous

The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong. 

The songs I listened to while writing this! 

The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are: 

“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry” 

“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”

“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”

I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things. 

I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:

“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift. 

For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.

“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”

Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.

“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last. 

One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.

For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen. 

Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why. 

I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more. 

He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT. 

I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.

I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!

I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you. 

My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”

I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish. 

Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love. 

I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.” 

In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse. 

Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.  

But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.

Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince? 

I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.

He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing. 

Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.

My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”

Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?

Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.

In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t. 

And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.

It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go. 

Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.

Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.

I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.

Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”

It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it. 

Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.

I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this. 

Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way. 

My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.

So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot. 

Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.

It would’ve been hot though. 

Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.” 

My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”

My god, who was this genius.

Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters). 

Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why? 

It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.

But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations. 

But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers. 

One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful. 

Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.

They can be called... err... Vil Roses?

My favourite lines from his story is:  ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.”” 

This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will. 

Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow. 

I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him. 

Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part? 

My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”

A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.

That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk. 

Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic. 

I will never shut up about it you can’t make me. 

Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t... 

And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.

Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.

Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him. 

Favourite lines are definitely:  “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”

I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them. 

I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.

Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6. 

I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch. 

I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination. 

Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.

Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another. 

Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study. 

I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach. 

My favourite lines from his story: “��When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”

I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference. 

Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.

I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.

The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.

Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though. 

The most important imagery would probably be the stars.

I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it. 

Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks. 

My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”

I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that  “Because there is never enough time.”

Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?

“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...

But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.

[calpalirwin]

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers. 

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

__

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