#being a god that exists outside of time and space makes her quite indifferent to most things otherwise tho :/

[typheus]

melody at all times is like ‘you all think my wife is the worst person in the universe, but if you dont stop being mean to her, you are going to find out very fast. that she is only the second worst person in the universe’ :)

[slytherinspired]

Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception. 

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools. 

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face. 

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already. 

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest. 

‘Really?’ he asks. 

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’ 

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit. 

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way. 

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say. 

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests. 

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air. 

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty. 

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand. 

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.  

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space.  He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family. 

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away. 

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway. 

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped. 

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence. 

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds. 

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘ 

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts. 

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits. 

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him. 

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden. 

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air. 

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how. 

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away. 

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor. 

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now. 

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods. 

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth. 

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.  

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down. 

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods. 

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases. 

Praised be Godric. 

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.  

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously. 

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘ 

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in. 

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers. 

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’ 

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs. 

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly. 

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats. 

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs. 

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms. 

She turns her head and looks at him. 

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs. 

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.  

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers. 

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear. 

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud. 

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes. 

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything. 

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.  

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means. 

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back. 

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him. 

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now. 

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake. 

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers. 

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there. 

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them. 

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t? 

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying. 

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up. 

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better. 

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating. 

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks. 

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?���, a young girl is staring at her. 

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away. 

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N. 

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room. 

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl... 

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’ 

[ilomilodailystuff]

If You Love Me || Sylki Fanfic

...really love me

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction

[LOKI FINALE SPOILERS]

dt @entertainmentforgods

(every mean comments about this ship will be deleted. If you don't like this ship, please just ignore.)

They did it, it was over. The impossible had come true.

Their heart beating wildly, the anguish of their uncertainty gradually fades as they understand the finality of it all.

Loki and Sylvie had joined forces to destroy the true mastermind of the TVA. The overpowered individual who pulled the strings behind the curtain.

The Goddess of Mischief dropped her bloodstained sword on the dark ground, making a loud metallic sound. He Who Remains had just gave his last breath.

Sylvie took a deep breath while staring at the inert body of the one who called himself The Conqueror. As Loki stood behind her, he watched her worriedly. She had just accomplished what she had fought for all her life. So many years feeding a justified anger towards one man, for it turned out that the Time Keepers were nothing but a sham. So many years of hiding, of surviving in the midst of so many apocalypses instead of just living fearlessly. Instead of living happily, instead of laughing, smiling, dancing, singing, enjoying the present moment, observing the universe and its many wonders without them being destroyed around her, loving and being loved in return... All of that was taken away from her, because The Ruler had decided to do so. Because only one man had made the decision to sacrifice her timeline and her family and those she loved. She had lost everything as a child, because a human had condemned her existence.

And now, the latter had just died. He had lived millions of lives, and the last had just ended, killed by the vengeful hand of an innocent orphan.

Slowly, Loki moved closer to her as he kept his eyes on her. Then when he was right behind her, he gently took her hand to try to get her out of her torpor. Her face turned to him as her gaze was drawn to the ground. She was still trying to regulate her breathing and realize the previous events.

"Come with me…" He half-murmurs, his blue eyes tinted with green watching his partner's reaction carefully, anxious to see her breaking down despite her strength to contain her emotions.

It was then that she nodded softly, still too absorbed by this decisive moment in her life. Sylvie turns to him with the intention of following him, no matter where he wanted to take her.

A few seconds later, both found themselves outside the entrance to the Citadel.

Loki went down the few steps, before sitting quietly on one of them. His teammate was not far away and she watched him get comfortable, while thousands of thoughts jostled in her mind. Curious, Loki brought his attention to her. When their eyes met, she began her steps to him to sit beside him on the step.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she sat down comfortably, her eyes fixed in front of her, finally noticing the awe-inspiring beauty of the sacred timeline they both would have admired sooner if it were in a less disastrous context. But now as they ran after time, it was as if it has just stopped.

The variants observed this painting before them, this masterpiece born from space and the end of the universe. For a moment, a pleasant silence rocked them in a surreal dream. Their eyes shine brightly, illuminated by the cosmos and time materialised in a perfectly fluid and sparkling line. But also, their intense feelings took over and tears had formed.

Hesitant but at the same time strangely confident, Loki turned to Sylvie, only able to imagine how she felt now.

"You're okay ?" He dares to ask softly.

Suffering of an internal conflict, Sylvie keeps her eyes wide open and try to look indifferent.

"I accomplished my mission, how do you think I feel ?" She replies naturally, almost on the defensive.

"Relieved ?"

"Yeah, among other things." She confirms with obviousness.

Amused by her slightly aggressive responses which, according to him, are what make her what she is, the god of mischief ends up stretching a tender smirk, realizing that this tone will never leave her no matter the situations in which they find themselves, as dramatic and catastrophic as they may be.

Innocently, Sylvie ends up looking at her partner.

"Why do you smile ?" She asks.

He smiles a little more.

"The real question is... why don’t you ?" Loki retorts, eyebrows raised.

The Enchantress raised her eyebrows in turn, that desperate, lonely look that makes her charm appearing on her face. What to answer to that? She had learned that Loki was insightful about her, but she wasn't used to being the center of attention that much.

"Why seek answers to trivial questions." She asks rhetorically as she looks away from him.

After a while, Loki also turned away, dissatisfied with her answer but still preferring to let go.

"So this is it..." He starts. "It's done."

"It's done." Sylvie asserts, nodding her head a little.

His eyes going here and there, Odin's son was asking himself lots of questions. Including one in particular.

"What do we do now ?" He wonders, seeming lost.

Sylvie took a deep breath again, ignoring like him the future of events.

"Should we go back to the TVA ?" Loki continues, bringing his gaze back to the one person he trusted.

"Why ?" She asks softly. "They don't need us anymore."

"But we don't have to hide." He responds with a comforting smile. "We are their allies."

"Is that what you want, to go back to the TVA ? But to do what ?" She asks again, looking into his eyes.

He thought for a moment, trying to unravel this enigmatic knot, stepping into the unknown.

"The Sacred Timeline is free" He said, emphasizing the first words in an exaggerated and caricatural way. "Maybe once we get there, we can look for another timeline where we can... fit in ?"

A silence took hold of them, leaving for only words the looks they exchanged.

Sylvie then ends up lowering her gaze in the direction of her own hands, revealing between her fingers the object that the Conqueror kept around his hand. The tempad.

"How about we take a break, until one of us finds a place to go ?" She offers softly, lost in thought as she doesn't take her eyes off the object.

"What, here ?" Loki asks, uncertain and surprised by her answer.

"Why not..?" She replies, her eyebrows raised, her mind being elsewhere. "When you've seen thousands of apocalypses, The Void isn't as bad as it seems."

Loki takes the time to consider this idea, thinking about everything else. The members of the TVA, the sacred timeline that has become completely independent, the very few people to which he is attached. They had just accomplished something huge, should they just ignore the multitudes of consequences their act caused ?

"It's over, Loki." Sylvie said, looking up at him.

Again, his gaze plunged deeply into her eyes

"We did what we had to do." She continues, looking serene.

"What if they still need us ?" He asks, referring to the TVA, specifically Mobius and hunter B-15, the only two people who believed in them and offered their precious help.

Sylvie watched the sacred timeline as it gradually divided, and she sighed.

"I am tired." She admits, ignoring Loki's question. "And you ?"

Loki admired the many timelines that continued to split, before taking a deep breath.

"Yes, me too..." He answers softly, releasing his breath, releasing the pressure he had been holding since his arrival at the TVA and which he hadn't known he had kept in him all this time until now.

However, he couldn't shake off his negative thoughts and all his apprehensions about the completion of their mission and the impact it will have on the trillions of people the universe can create. The god of mischief had, against all odds, developed a conscience and a moral code. Yes, they had delivered the world by giving it back its free will. But for some reason that he didn't quite understand, he began to doubt.

And buried into his torment, Sylvie brought a comforting hand to his.

Loki laid his eyes on this delicate hand, yet belonging to that of a warrior, his heart missing a beat at the gentle contact of the one he had become crazy about. In this moment of complexity, in this major turning point for the multiverse, he almost forgot his feelings. He almost forgot the way they looked at each other in the Citadel as they walked into the darkness. He almost forgot the moment she had gripped his hand in the Void, in front of Alioth, hoping to help him unleash his enchantment powers.

Suddenly caught up in his emotions, he looked up uncertainly in the direction of his partner. Then, she gave him a brief smile, but oh so genuine. The same smile she had given him on Lamentis, while everything around them was death and destruction. Apparently everything was written. But he decided to ignore this detail that the conqueror had shared with too much pride.

Still confused by these unusual feelings, Loki returned that affectionate and heartwarming smile. Only, looking into her expressive eyes - but in the greatest secret, a loving gaze- he realized that the very thing he wanted above all now was to never leave her again. To stay by her side, as long as possible, even forever, better than that : beyond death. His desires made him all the more nervous. He never thought he would be so consumed by his moods, let alone by a loving emotion that possesses him more and more after each day he spends in her company. Nevertheless he wanted to seize this desire and make it come true.

This time, it is the TVA that he forgets, it is the universe that he neglect, it is the time that he ignores.

It is his glorious purpose that he gave up, because he found a new one...

"Sylvie..." He said, drunk with love for her. "I..."

"No, Loki, wait." Sylvie interrupts him, being totally lost and frightened at the same time. "I have to tell you something..."

"Yes ?" He asks, innocent, patient, in love.

She looked at him intensely, trying to express herself. Something seemed to upset her. Loki was trying to read into her eyes, to read her face, when no word could break the barrier of her lips. Disturbed by this confession, it turned out that it was getting stuck between the walls of her throat.

So the Prince of Asgard frowned, intrigued by the torture she was inflicting on herself through this mysterious revelation.

"I..." She starts before her lips instantly seal.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for another attempt, as Loki's piercing, loving gaze dug into her pupils until it consumed her whole being.

When finally, in complete disarray, she ends up throwing herself at his neck.

Her lips crashed against his, tenderly, passionately but mostly timidly. Surprised but more than grateful for this proof of unexpected love, Loki was not long in returning her kiss with just as much fervor.

Sylvie had never been attached to anyone. She never wanted to be weak because of her feelings. She would never have dedicated herself to someone body and soul, for trusting and breaking down the imposing and solid walls she had built around her was inconceivable. And yet, faced with the many selfless acts of the one who had irrupted into her plan, she had found herself giving him importance. She hated knowing that she was only considering trusting him. She hated the fact that he could climb these walls she had locked herself between.

Worse yet, she was terrified to find herself reaching out to help him climb.

Eyes closed, they kissed each other with fragility, embarrassed to feel such intense emotions but oh how much they surrendered to them.

Sitting side by side, they relished this moment of sincerity and calm after all they had endured. The highlight of their journey. The completion of a battle for freedom, the same cause that the rightful king of Asgard fought against to make it inaccessible to the people of the earth. This cause that he finally chose to defend ; for him at the beginning, but for her on the way, and for the others at the end of their fight.

Slowly, they parted. Loki then dared to rest his forehead tenderly against hers. They kept their eyes closed, as if to immortalized this moment in their memories, for who knows what might happen to them tomorrow.

That's why he whispered these few words :

"You're right, I... I'm a little tired..." He admitted again hesitantly, unsettled by this moment of pure sincerity.

Keeping her forehead against his, Sylvie nodded gently, not daring to open her eyes to face the truth she still had trouble swallowing.

"Let's stay here..." Loki continues.

"Only for a little while." She continues nervously, muttering her desires like him, probably too afraid that someone will hear them or too embarrassed to admit she is weak in front of him, while he is weak in front of her.

"Yes, after all... If something goes wrong, they know where to find us, right ?" He responds with a raised eyebrow as he still kept his eyes closed, trying to reassure himself by making excuses to stay.

"Yeah, of course, nothing prevents Mobius from coming back here." She confirmed casually.

"Well, unless... Unless he had to prune himself." He said worriedly. "But it’s not as if we have no way to reach them !" He adds anyway, optimistic and trying not to feel guilty.

“Yes ! We have the--” She mimics his optimism, as she pulls away from his forehead to observe the object in her free hand.

"T-the tempad..." He confirms by muttering and nodding his head, bringing in turn his attention to the latter.

The taste of her lips was still too present on Loki's for him to think properly. However, he was trying.

Shyly, he finally looked at her again, a quiet smile displayed on his face.

Of course, Sylvie had noticed it. How to ignore him ? So, embarrassed, she gave him an uncertain look, having no idea how they should react now. After all, despite their thousand years of life, the variants had never really been devoted to feelings or romance that seemed more than superfluous and unnecessary at the time. Although they were aware of their emotions, repressed or not, knowing how to react to them was still an area to be explored.

The landscape around them gradually brought her back to reality. Then, looking worried, she turned her gaze to the entrance to the Citadel. She remembered the corpse of the He Who Remains, the one who had wiped out her timeline and certainly thousands more.

Loki frowned, noticing the change in expression on his partner's face.

"Are you sure you’re okay ?" He asks once more with patience.

Lost in thought, Sylvie continued to look at the place where everything had changed with a blank stare.

"No..." she sighs slowly.

The god of mischief was envious to possess the complicated mind of his variant for the sole purpose of finding the source of her ill-being. It would be enough for him to touch her to enchant her, now that he knows the secrets of enchantment. However, would he dare ? He hesitated for a fraction of a second, before totally rejecting the idea away from him. He was incapable of defying her trust, for he knew full well that he would risk a lot if he tried. Especially since he was still cruelly lacking in experience concerning enchantments.

"But when I wake up tomorrow knowing that the one responsible for all this horror is only a memory, then I could savor every second of my life." She asserts returning her attention to Loki as if nothing had happened, speaking with confidence and lightness.

Perplexed but somewhat reassured, he just nodded briefly, straining to accept her answer. However, something in him told him that she wasn't being entirely truthful.

"...Glorious purpose." He said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mh..." She only answers, a quiet smirk nestling in the corner of her lips.

Calm eventually took over. Neither of them spoke, only watching the story of trillions of lives forming before their eyes in those many fluorescent lines.

"We're not leaving." He speaks up, his statement sounding more like a question mark.

"We're not leaving." She repeats with a little more conviction than him.

Slowly, he finally took a light breath, before sighing in contentment.

After an extremely difficult journey that could have cost them their lives, even though the Ruler had decided that they would be spared so that they could both achieve their goal, they were going to be able to rest, they were going to be able to breathe. Because even if the gods have more ability than humans to resist fatigue and pain, they could do nothing before the effervescence of their emotions. And as tough as they could be, they were tired, mentally and physically.

Thereupon, on this mutual agreement, the two variants had decided that it was time for them to rest for a while. They didn’t know what they were going to do. But they had decided to figure this out…

Together.

[heyitsyn]

White Carnation

Ex!Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

a/n: iwa-chan being your ex is so painful and numbing

huhuhu angst isnt my forte but this is an exception bc chi is my sista

anon request: ex-boyfriend/childhood friend iwaizumi would be super angsty but i have no idea what they’d fight about ,, now imagine if after being kitaichi’s manager/medic, reader becomes karasuno’s medic/temporary manager (until kiyoko got recruited),, then she couldn’t come to the seijoh practice match so she has no idea her team fought her ex,,, only to find out during inter-high and everyone’s like wtf??? that spiky haired ace is your ex?? meanwhile kageyama’s like “yall didn’t know?” — chi

ong this finna be painful

so

its always been the three of you

with living across the oikawas came great perks

even way before you could remember, you were always with the 2 other boys: your neighbor across your house, tooru, and his best friend who practically lived there, hajime

hajime first saw you when you were covered in dirt after you were trying to catch a butterfly for tooru at the back and oikawa pushed you out of the way into a puddle of mud when he saw a bug

iwa stared at you then immediately said ‘my name is iwaijumi hajime. i think youre really pretty’

yep thats really how it went

and poor babie didnt know how to pronounce his ‘z’s yet so it sounds like ‘j’s :(

while tooru liked you because you werent like other girls who stayed inside and played dolls instead playing outside

you played with him at his back yard with the volleyball he owned and always made him laugh and have fun

iwa liked you because you didnt shy away from bugs, instead you were braver than tooru and even helped iwa look for any beetles and caught them for him to keep as pets

they liked you because you were like them

you were like one of the bois

but that kinda hurt you in the future

as you all grew up, you started going through yanno teenager things

like you started to have crushes

specifically on your best friend, iwaizumi hajime

thankfully tooru didnt see you like that and still saw you as one of the bois and saw you as that annoying twin sister

but unfortunately, iwa did too

every time you made an effort to do something to emphasize that you were, hello, a girl, he would laugh and tease you

‘hehe i didnt think you even knew what a dress was!’

was his comment when you came over wearing a yellow sundress with flats

tooru, who you shared these secrets with, gave you a worried glance but you smiled, covering up the hurt

‘meh. my mom forgot to dry my clothes so i had to wear these old clothes’

no, they werent old

they were just bought yesterday with the intention of finally being recognized as girl and complimented

but the person it was for, couldnt even be bothered to remember that you werent just one of the boys and that you possibly wanted to be told that you were pretty or cute

your other best friend noticed your quietness and he stood up from his crouching position and placed a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him

your teary eyes made him sigh but he grinned at you

‘its really pretty, y/n-chan! you should wear it more often! pretty things deserve to be seen and complimented’

god why couldnt you have a crush on oikawa tooru instead

why did it have to be towards the boy who was too caught up with catching bugs and playing ball to ever see you differently and has never said a single praise towards you?

‘what do you think, iwa-chan? isnt she pretty?’

oikawa hinted but hajime remained his eyes on the tv as the players hit the ball, too distracted to even be bothered to look at you

‘she looks the same’

he mumbled and your nose stung and eyes watered, looking down to hide the wobbling of your lips

‘its okay, kawa-chan. can i wear your clothes for now? i dont like this dress thats why i never wore it’

oikawa tried to stop you but you were already straight up the stairs and towards his room

he angrily stomped over to iwa and slapped his arm, startling the other boy and him snarling in pain

‘what the-’

‘youre so dumb. youre so mean. i wonder where she went wrong and what she saw. seriously’

he ranted and moved to sit back on the floor but not before kicking iwaizumi, making him fall on his side

‘OI KUSOKA-’

‘so whos winning?’

your voice interrupted iwa’s mid-scream and he looked up from the floor to see you wearing an alien hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts that were a little too loose so they drooped by your knees

your originally curled and elegantly braided hair was now pulled up into a bun by a scrunchie that you left around the house from years ago

there was a bit of redness around your eyes and iwa scrambled up to check if you were okay since your face looked swollen

‘oi, did you eat something weird? your face is all red so youre probably having a reaction’

he fretted and you watched as his hands glided across your face and held you by the shoulders to take a closer look

‘yea, a reaction from a bad reaction’

thankfully iwa was too busy checking to hear oikawa snarkily whisper and you sent him a glare that made him quiet down

‘haji-kun, im fine’

you dismissed and side stepped to go sit next to oikawa, completely brushing him off

now iwa was confused

you would usually smile up at him, say ‘aw~ are you worried about me, haji-kun?’ then skip over 

not frown and act so coldly

‘oi, y/n, what-’

‘lets go to the bakery! theres a sale going on there!’

oikawa shouted which made you jolt in surprise

he knew of his best friend’s beginning interrogation but he knew you were too upset to be bothered by hajime’s questions

‘they have a buy one get one sale on milk bread! and those-those treats you like! theyre on sale too!’

omg oikawa is a real one 🥺

oikawa blinked harshly at you to go along with the act and you stuttered and nodded

‘uh-eung! yea!’

that was probably the moment that iwaizumi started noticing

except he thought it was a pining between his best friends rather than you towards him

ofc iwa was a loyal friend

he thought that you and oikawa were two people who were crushing on each other yet too afraid to say anything

tbh he shouldve seen this coming because duh you were an incredibly pretty girl and oikawa was the handsomest guy in the whole area!

it was almost,,, natural for you both to gravitate towards each other

maybe thats why,,,

he started to distance himself to give you both the space and want without him in between

maybe thats why,,,

he started to feel these feelings of,, jealousy?? like he started to feel a little scared and honestly he wasnt sure who to be jealous of bc he knew once you started dating, you’d both be too busy to hang out with him

maybe thats why,,,

he was no longer your friend 

iwaizumi hajime became a simple stranger you would just pass by in the hall

it happened around the 2nd year of middle school

you and oikawa were still close friends but you have drifted away into not being as close while you and iwaizumi became,,,, distant

basically strangers

the boy you used to dream about when you were 8 and dreamt of marrying once you were old enough

he was no longer him

before, you and iwa were actually really close without oikawa

like you would hang out when oikawa was too busy with takeru

you both would go to the arcade and play games with no fear of oikawa whining and complaining to take turns

you had a lot of fun together and yet, all of a sudden, everything stopped

because iwa knew how,,, possessive oikawa was

he thought that if he were to continue being friends with you, he would risk losing his best friend out of jealousy or misunderstandings and he didnt want that precious bond to be ruined by a girl

even if that girl,,,

was you

thats why it was so awkward when you came over to oikawa’s house after so long and seeing him there, eating breakfast in the kitchen

your best friend didnt want to tell you that iwa spent the night bc quite frankly, oikawa was already fed up with this

you think he didnt know?

you think he didnt know that iwa distanced himself due to an unknown misunderstanding?

you think he didnt know that you also distanced yourself due to being hurt as he casted you aside?

and oikawa was also worried

he didnt want to ever bring up your name with iwa bc to be honest, he didnt think iwa even liked you all that much

he thought that iwa only tolerated you for so long bc you were the only girl who wasnt in love with oikawa and knew you long enough to be comfortable w you

but babie oiks is misunderstood that :(

he didnt want to ever bring up his name with you bc he knew how sensitive it was for you and how sad and pained you were when he suddenly stopped even replying to your texts

one time when you cornered him, he looked angry and gently pushed you back and quickly walked away 

no he was scared that oikawa could see you both and misunderstand

‘just,,, stay away from me, okay? its better this way’

god you wanted to scream at him and shout at him and punch him but he kept silent and refused to answer your questions and refused to acknowledge your existence

you were so confused and you were just so hurt and eventually, you became indifferent to him and treated him the same way

anyways

you stepped into the house, not even bothering to shout your arrival and quickly wandered through the hallway before turning the corner to go to the kitchen 

but you stopped, seeing the familiar hair with olive eyes eating breakfast on the kitchen island, also stopping with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth at the sight of you

your gazes clashed and you blinked before your lips formed into a thin line, turning and going to the fridge and look for food

iwa wasnt surprised

he figured you were both getting closer to dating and you were already basically living in his house

it all makes sense

BRUH THEYVE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE THEY WERE LTR BORN LIKE BLS THEYRE JUST SIBLINGS

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

‘h-how are you’

he mumbled, trying to fix the awkward silence while cursing inside of how long oikawa was taking to shit

you hummed, taking a water bottle and slamming the fridge door shut, harder than necessary

‘oh, now you see me?’

you really didnt mean for it to be a snarky comment but it came out before you even realized what you said

he winced

‘listen, im-’

‘oh? youre here, y/n-chan!’

oikawa’s voice cut him off and he returned back to his bowl of rice, leaving you standing there furrowing your brows

you shrugged, already knowing that hajime was like this, so you turned to look at oikawa with a wrinkled nose at the sound of the toilet flushing

‘tooru, did you drink straight milk again? you know how it makes your stomach upset’

you chided and tooru turned red at the implication of his dookie

‘o-oi! y/n-chan! of course id know if i was lactose intolerant!’

i just think how funny it would be like the irony of his love for milk bread yet being lactose intolerant at the same time 

he huffed and you nodded but not exactly believing him

‘kay kay’

you teased and walked to the living room but oikawa caught you in a headlock and he ruffled your hair while you complained and whined to let you go

you were giggling as tooru was giving you noogies, feeling the tension leave your body

all while iwa was watching

maybe it was because he stopped hanging out with you and havent seen you like this for almost  a year

so carefree and so happy as you scored higher than him at the hoop game and he would begrudgingly let you hug him when he managed to win you a doll from the claw machine

but yea he definitely forgot your smile

he forgot how it looked like bc the last time you met gazes, you sent him a hurt glance and looked away and he knew he deserved that

god he hated it

but no, he was doing this for tooru

he was doing this because his best friend liked someone who actually deserved him

but dear god why did it hurt

iwa was starting to wonder if he made the right choice

he could easily handle you two dating

right?

maybe that was when iwa started to realize,,, he was starting to feel different towards you

the time apart definitely made him remember why he was friends with you

you weren’t like those girls he saw in tv or outside with the frilly clothes and the makeup and the fancy hair

no that wasnt you

you were different

you were too lazy to even pick out a cute outfit, opting for comfort with one of their sweatshirts and sweatpants

you preferred to chase after butterflies rather than sitting inside bc hajime’s adventurous spirit latched itself on to you too

you would usually climb the tree to get the volleyball that got stuck up in the branches bc tooru was too scared of heights and you wanted to prove your strength and capability

god you were so different

what if you liked him instead?

iwa startled himself with that thought in the middle of eating and caused him to choke on his rice

tooru noticed him coughing violently so he grabbed the water bottle from your hand and threw it straight towards the boy

iwa snapped the cap open,not caring where that water came from, and chugged it down before sighing in relief after the quite scary situation

you then realized what happened and you turned red, speedwalking into the living room

oiks totally didnt do that on purpose and he was doing the lenny face at you before switching masks and wearing a worried one for iwa

‘iwa-chan! you need to slow down!’

he chided and iwaizumi yelled at him to be quiet, completely clueless to the fact that he just shared an indirect kiss with you

but you did and lordie did you hate it

from then on,,,

iwa was just seeing you everywhere

iwa saw you from his classroom when you would go hang out with your new friends outside 

he noticed you not even being too loud, only speaking up when asked while the others opted to continue talking about nonsense you probably gave no care about with how you secretly rolled your eyes

those moments made him laugh

the next time you both ran into each other was during his morning practice

oikawa phoned you in the morning while you were getting ready, saying he accidentally left his knee pads at home and he was already at school but you werent so he wanted you to bring them to him

you knew damn well that iwaizumi hajime would be there but you didnt care because youre not even friends anymore after he just dropped you like that

YES SISTER WE DESERVE BETTER

so thats why you found yourself pushing the metal gym door open at 6 in the morning and shouting oikawa’s name

his eyes brightened at your voice and he dropped the ball to run towards you by the door

‘oh my god thank you so much, y/n-chan!’

he shouted and hugged you out of excitement while you cringed and hit him to get off of you

‘ew dont touch me trashykawa’

you mumbled and he whined, finally stepping away with a pout

iwa was watching you both from the side and he blinked, wondering if you were trying a new hairstyle

if not, then you changed something bc currently, you practically glowing to him

he watched you scold oikawa for being forgetful and him begging for forgiveness but also thanking you before he was scoldede again by the coach

but the coach was relieved that he could finally play with the proper equipment and not risk anymore injuries

oikawa was already bidding you good bye and you were about to turn to leave when you finally met the many gazes of iwaizumi hajime

your eyebrows unconsciously furrowed together and your lips turned to a frown then you sharply turned and walked through the doors

unbeknownst to him, oikawa watched as his best friend’s face turned hurt at your expression and remained staring at the door you just went out of even when you were already gone

‘iwa-chan, lets get to practice’

after that 

iwa has concluded god has decided to be mean to him

bc who was giving him these weird heart attacks and tummy aches at the simple sight of you?

literally he ignored you for a good time yet now hes noticing you again?

what kinda unfairness-

but you proved to accept his previous behavior by not even giving him a single glance anymore

that made him sad so iwa would sometimes stop doing what hes doing so he could freely stare at you laugh at something a classmate said during class

thats totally not creepy iwa lol

he doesnt even know hes doing it sometimes bc hes so absorbed on trying to figure out the answers of his questions

but the worst was when he got caught

you sat at the very front and oikawa and iwa sat at the back 

it was lunchtime and you were eating with a few girls and a guy from another class and yall were laughing and talking together

iwa had oikawa and these other guys makki and matsukawa from the class next door to eat lunch with

can i please just dream that our third year seijoh boys were actually friends since the very beginning like pls and thanks

oikawa was rambling about how some girl giving him cookies the other day when he noticed iwa not listening but staring at you while moving his chopsticks around

poor iwa-chan was confused as to how even with messy hair, you still looked beautiful?

like no matter what angle or how you turned, the light always seemed to hit you perfectly to accent out your features

how was that possible?

‘-and she just-iwa-chan? iwaizumi?’

he called out and said boy jolted, eyes widening at the confused, bored, and knowing eyes

‘hm?’

‘oh? were you looking at y/n-chan?’

oikawa teased and the gojira fanboy waved his hands around to deny that statement

but makki chuckled and leaned in

‘hm, wouldnt blame ya. shes really pretty you know? some guy in our class saw the girls ranking and shes in the top 5′

okay iwa was angry

was it because everyone else noticed how pretty you are?

was it because you were part of this list?

was it because his own friend said you were pretty?

why did he even care anyways?!

oikawa smirked at the clenched fist under the table and decided to poke fun even more

‘oh really? well, it doesnt really matter because its always the girl’s decision right? but most of the time, their choice is utter trash’

the meme duo shared a confused look

‘hah? what are you going on about, oikawa’

oikawa internally apologized to you after what hes about to do because hes so tired and exhausted of having to be so careful and walking on eggshells between you two

so he did an oikawa move

‘yanno how y/n-chan and i have been friends since we were little ducklings right? so ages ago, like ages ago, little y/n-chan had a crush on this brute bc for some reason she thought he was brave or something and apparently thats appealing to girls rather than the nice and gentlemanly type. but of course, yanno how this goes, he pooped up and now hes stuck on doing this weird stalking staring thing. right, iwa-chan~?’

okay im sorry i take it back oikawa is a bitch

iwa shook

you,,, had a what on who?!

a crush on him?!

is he the brute?!

so it wasnt oikawa?

it was to him?

then why did you act like that?

why did you both act like that?

‘what’

iwaizumi mumbled and he met oikawa’s pointed gaze

‘hmm,,,, you dont have to worry about it anymore though since theyre not even friends anymore. but listen to me and listen well, makki, mattsun, if you hurt a girl even once, theyre never going to forget it. my sister said that apparently theres this little voice in their head that tells them that theyre going to get hurt again and thats where their trust issues begin to develop and--IWA-CHAN WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!’

iwa was already out of his seat and straight walking towards you and your group before stopping beside your chair

your friends quieted down at the sight of the known boy and you blinked then turned your head to see him, your eyes instantly turning dark and looking away immediately

‘what the hell do you want’

you hissed and natsu almost choked on his rice ball if it wasnt for another girl patting his back

‘it was me, right? all along, not oikawa, but me?’

his meek voice made you look up in confusion

‘what are you talking-’

‘you chose me instead him’

then it was like a click that you realized what he said

‘how did you know’

‘i-i’

he stuttered but was cut off when the teacher finally arrived to announce the end of lunch and iwa was forced to go back to his seat

the whole class time, you would sneak glances back and iwa would be staring at his paper while oikawa would wink at you and give you smirks

OH GOD HE TOLD HIM

after class you stomped up to the brunette haired boy 

‘how could you?! why did you tell-’

‘lets talk, y/n? please?’

iwa was holding your arm and you glared at him before turning away and walking away

oikawa patted him on the shoulder in good luck and whispered,

‘get your girl’

the rooftop ledge looked really delicious right now

no words were exchanged so you were both just silent with you staring at him while he was looking off to the side

‘so what? now you know and so what do you want?’

you spoke first and iwa guiltily met your eyes

‘everything was,,, a mess. i misunderstood and i didnt communicate and i,,, messed up’

he mumbled the last part but you caught it perfectly causing you to scoff

‘damn right you did. so now you know and then youre going to do the cliche thing they do in those dramas where you magically profess your love for me and-’

‘hey y/n lets date’

you froze and looked at him shocked with wide eyes and jaw dropped

‘excuse me? who are you to say that?!’

you shrieked

‘first you think i have some big crush on tooru and this caused you to basically drop me like a damn pencil and second youre asking me to date you? iwaizumi hajime i thought you were always the smarter one. what the hell are you spouting you damn imbecile-’

iwa did the only thing he thought of

he quickly leaned forward and pecked your lips

he saw some guy do it in a telenovela that his mom watched a week ago and that was how the girl got silent so iwa thought it would be smart to shut you up that way

and it worked

bc you were so conflicted: angry, confused, sad, happy

you was the whole range of emotions in one second

‘i was stupid. and i was dumb. i wanted to give you and shittykawa space because i thought he liked you and he would be mad and misunderstand if we continued hanging out without him. but you shouldve told me you liked me, baka. maybe i wouldve come to like you back’

iwa rambled but your eyes watered and you huffed, slapping him across the face but pulled his collar to kiss him again

tbh iwa was shook bc he got 2 kisses in a row today and hes never been kissed before and its from this really pretty girl

‘how dare you kiss me and still not like me’

you seethed when you pulled away

but iwa held your hands

‘im starting to come to. give me time and i’ll accept your confession’

and give him time you did bc you finally were able to try and mend that friendship again and soon, you were already starting to fall back in love with him 

but iwa also

during the end of your 2nd year, iwa nervously tugged you to the rooftop and you smirked

‘what? you gonna profess your love for me haji-kun?’

you teased and expected him to laugh and smack you gently but he didnt

he turned red and he looked down at his shoes as he magically produced a flower out of nowhere

‘please accept me, y/n!’

he shouted while holding out the single white carnation

your eyebrows scrunched and you grabbed the flower from his hands before punching him weakly

‘stupid! stupid haji-kun! i already accepted you! since we were five! how could you not see my feelings’

you whimpered, trying to hide the blush on your face but he smothered you to a hug, making you both topple over in the process

you had the cliched term of ‘summer love’

of course you still hung out with tooru but you both would hang out other days just you both

like you and iwa liked going over to some old playground by your house and you both would watch the sky on top of the slide assembly while talking about stupid stuff and the future

‘haji-kun, do you know what you want to be when youre old?’

you asked and he turned his head to look at you but you were focused on the stars

‘gojira’

he simply replied and you giggled, reaching over to hit his chest

‘baka. you cant be gojira-san’

iwa found himself giggling with you before he reached down to softly interwine your fingers and hold them up to look at them

‘hm, i dont really know. maybe a volleyball player. or someone in the volleyball team, i dont know’

you hummed, knowing him and tooru’s shared love for the sport

‘i wanna be a doctor. i want to save lives and help people and make money too! my mothers friend offered to intern me but apparently im still too young’

you pouted

iwa listened to you but then a lightbulb rang in his head

‘oi, y/n’

he started and you looked at him

‘you can be our manager. or medic. or doctor person. that bastard is going to push himself even harder because naoki-senpai gave him that damn position and he might kill himself trying to beat that farmer dude. besides, shittykawa is going to be the captain next year and i’ll be vice so youd easily get it anyways. so you in?’

you blinked at him before breaking out to a smile

‘eung! i wanna see my baby play what he loves!’

iwa’s face contorted to disgust

‘bABy?! iM nOt a BABY! im A mAn!! mAN!!’

‘mhm, okay. my mans, haji bara arms is my mans’

your relationship is very balanced with the perfect ratio of crackhead and seriousness and understanding bc as we ALL KNOW EVERYTHING STARTED W A MISUNDERSTANDING

like if he accidentally said something that hurt your feelings like that dress incident from years ago btw you brought it up to him and told him you were practically traumatized by that and he kept on apologizing and appearing at your doorstep with a white carnation in apology you would gently tell him bc communication is K E Y and he would tell you sorry and you guys would understand and make up

you guys were so lovey dovey that ltr oikawa would fake gag and throw up to the side when he catches you guys even doing things like holding hands

like bls he sees that flesh to flesh contact and he wretches his breakfast

‘ew, its the settling down for me’

‘its the flatness of the ass for me’

you stuck your tongue out while he pouted and iwa looked so proud like oml

you guys were still at the honeymoon phase where everything was peaches and rainbows and it continued until your 3rd year

as mentioned above, iwa basically gave you the managerial position

like yall were walking to school during the first day talking about how worried yall were at passing your classes when suddenly he was all like ‘ill see you in the gym later?’

you smiled and blinked confusingly

‘hm? you want a cheerleader there, baby?’

he flushed red at the nickname and furrowed his eyebrows

‘baka, stop calling me that’

you giggled and dodged his gentle smack but he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to his chest

‘i thought we already agreed that you would be our medic slash manager? i mean, it could give you experience for the future right?’

you rested your chin on his front to look up at him and your face held a teasing smirk

‘hmmm~~~ haji-kun just admit it. you want me to be there to cheer you on~’

you teased and nuzzled your cheek on him

iwa scoffed but he couldnt help a soft smile appearing

‘i mean-yea, but its for the future so ill help you every way i can’

‘oya? the future? will you marry me in the future, haji-kun?’

‘MARRY?! HOW DID YOU GET MARRY OUT OF THAT, BRAT’

‘AAWWWWW DONT BE SUCH A TSUNTSUN HAJI-KU-ACKDKJFSLKJNOT THE HAIR!!!’

sure enough you were at the gym after school

the coaches knew you werent a fangirl of oikawa bc hes seen you since the very beginning and oikawa clears you are actually a sister to him and you were fit for the job

ofc hes captain and someone as good as oikawa was going to get what he wants

the gym was full of newbies and recruits hoping to get into the powerhouse team and your eyes scanned to find those ridiculously pretty olive eyes that belonged to your beloved-

‘HAJI-KUN~~!!!’

you waved and shouted loudly, gaining his and everyone else’s attention as well

the underclassmen cooed and awed at you bc their senpai who was famous for being really pretty was in the building

‘waaaa its l/n-senpai’

‘shes so pretty’

‘oMG shes righT iN FroNT oF me!!’

yea you get the gist

the poor ‘haji-kun’ was shrinking under the attention and was growling at oikawa’s teasing look but he begrudgingly held his arms out for you to run into them and snuggle into him

‘hmmm i missed you, haji-kun. im really sad we’re in different classes this year. but then again! i can be here with you!’

you pouted and he ruffled your hair affectionately

‘why else do you think i offered it brat’

oikawa rolled his eyes and gagged before taking your arm to the coach so he could sort you out

‘honestly! not in front of the children, okay?!’

but everything was quickly resolved and you were finally officially their manager/medic

you did managerial duties and you were the go-to when someone falls harshly or gets hurt in any way

in between homework, school, reading medical books, and practice, you and iwa havent spent a lot of time together and tbh that was quite straining your relationship??

like it was something that you saw coming and you both even had a talk about it but you still feel like you didnt prepare enough when it did come

one day, it was monday and there was no practice so you and iwa were walking home together

he squeezed your hand occassionally and you would sing and hum while walking

and omg his heart would balloon up when you would smile up at him and giggle when you would catch him staring

he honestly thought youd both hang out and just lay on the couch, snuggle, yanno the routine

but once you pulled out your textbooks, notebooks, and pens, he was confused

like he even held your hands and stopped you from pulling anything else out

‘y/n? i thought we were,, watching a movie or something?’

you blinked and shook your head

‘i need to study for a test and i still need to memorize how to treat a sprain, haji-kun. there’s more important things to do right now. maybe later?’

more important things?!

more important than showering you with love?

more important than even spending a second with him?

now, dont get him wrong, iwaizumi hajime was by no means a clingy and possessive boyfriend

he understood the boundaries and he understood the priorities

but dear god its been WEEKS since he even hung out w you since your entire schedule seemed to throw him out of loop and acted as if he didnt exist

and now, he was aggrivated and irritated and he wanted nothing but to just cuddle his girlfriend

you noticed his huff and pout but he remained silent

you quirked an eyebrow and placed your pen down

‘haji? whats wrong?’

his eyes snapped to you and you knew now he was angry

‘oh? were you able to spare a few seconds for dear old me?’

you were taken aback and you knew there was a fight brewing so you hid your growing irritation and calmly put your things aside

‘hajime, what are you on about?’

you pried and he looked shocked, almost offended

‘what am i on about? what am i on about? y/n, do you know the last time i even came over? the last time i held you and just talked?’

his voice got louder by every word and you quickly stood up 

‘dont you dare raise your voice at me, hajime. if we have a problem, we talked over it calmly. we dont yell or shout, nothing gets resolved. we talked about this’

but he scoffed

‘talked? when was that? when did we actually just talk? hm? because I sure as hell dont remember it’

youve only seen hajime angry once and it was when you lied to him to go spend time with oikawa

okay in your defense, oikawa was having a panic attack and he begged you not to tell iwa because he didnt want to be scolded by iwa even though you kept telling him that iwa wasnt like that

and theres a reason as to why its only been a one-time thing because iwa was known to have patience that was as long as the damn nile river

except for oikawa bc it seems oikawa just cuts that patience by a million

and when he finally snaps, its when he couldnt take it anymore and he finally gets loose

when iwaizumi hajime was angry,  you really done it

you didnt really know how you handled that anger so you were at a loss and you were feeling conflicted and pained at the way he looked at you

‘h-hajime,,,’

you started and he looked at you expectantly

‘well? when did we last actually talk outside the school premises y/n?’

there was that inner witty voice of yours that wanted to say ‘right now?’ but you held it in bc he was completely serious

‘hajime, please understand. i-i dont want to let anyone down! my grades! the team! i-’

‘but what about me, y/n?’

he tiredly asked

‘do those things-those people- matter more than me? and i really really dont want to ask that but im so so confused y/n’

despite sounding manipulative, you knew iwa was feeling defeated and he couldnt help but ask those questions and sound so desperate

so you scrambled to sit next to him on the couch and held him against you

‘of course you matter to me-haji you mean everything to me, you understand? god, if an adult hears me theyd think im crazy but i love you, hajime. i love you and im so sorry if i ever made you feel that way because i really didnt mean to, okay? im so sorry’

you sobbed and he turned to fully envelop you into his arms and he sighed contently, remembering how good it felt to have you right there

‘no, im sorry, doll. i was being clingy and i didnt mean to lash out, i-’

you slightly let go and cupped his face

‘nonono you were perfectly valid. what you felt was perfectly reasonable. i havent been a good girlfriend lately, huh?’

you sadly smiled but he kissed you, holding you even closer

‘youre always a good one to me. always. just with a not good schedule but we can fix that, right?’

SORRY I REALLY DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE A FIGHTING SCENE BC ITS ANGSTY AND I DONT DO WELL WITH ANGST BC IT MAKES ME CRY 😭

tbh that was really your only big fight

even when you guys graduated middle school, you both were still quite happy and you both worked hard to make time for each other

HOWEVER

when high school arrived, you both had chosen an extremely hard decision

you chose to go to karasuno while oikawa and iwa went to seijoh

which was a,,,, hard and difficult decision

in fact, you both didnt have a fight per se, just a disagreement that ended in like 30 minutes lmao

tbh its so scary and concerning of how rarely you both have bad times and how quickly it gets resolved

BUT THEN AGAIN THIS IS AN ANGST REQUEST SO ILL OF COURSE BRING IN THE SADNESS

you were busy with karasuno and you were actually taking college courses since you wanted to have a good record if you ever wanted to get into a medical field

that meant you had a lot of homework and most of your time was spent with schoolwork or interning for that family friend mentioned earlier

and you were also a manager for the volleyball team bc karasuno is a butt and they require you to have an after school club

so that meant,,,

no time for iwa

and fate just so happens to hate you bc the days you did have off, he would be busy with volleyball and he wouldnt be able to spend time with you

even weekends were like that

eventually, you both went for 2 months with no contact, just a few text messages and calls

and that strained your former strong relationship

and you knew that iwa was getting angry again with how he even typed his responses

‘want me to bring over snacks for the team?’

‘its okay. wouldnt want you to waste time or anything’

like that type of bull

you were getting increasingly worried because you havent had a good proper time to talk to him about it and you didnt want to fight over the phone

your best friend, kiyoko, noticed your anxious ticks and she snapped you out of your current daydream

‘hey? y/n? you okay?’

she gently asked and you blinked before nodding

‘mhm. just,,, thinking’

but she didnt buy that lie because you went back to chewing your lips and eyes even watering

‘i can revise your notes for you, y/n. and the team isnt doing anything big so i can handle it. you just go see him after school bc i cant handle you being sad anymore’

kiyoko gently smiled and you almost cried bc finally! you were able to clear your schedule enough to go visit your boyfriend

at the end of the school day, you bolted out of there and you were running and huffing all the way to seijoh bc you really wanted to talk to him as soon as possible

the gym was clear in view and you smiled, looking forward to seeing your beloved boy, when you saw him and oikawa being surrounded by girls

now keep in mind, youve suffered through middle school with oikawa and you were his best friend and has known him since you were a toddler

so you know of his looks and the attraction it brought him from all the females

so that didnt really bother you 

but what bothered you was the horde of girls that stuck on to your boyfriend and he didnt even look bothered

just,,, blank

not even pushing away or feeding into their actions

just,,, standing there

‘haji?’

you called out and as if he had a built-in sensor for you, his ears twitched and he swiveled to look at you

‘y/n’

he breathed out and you smiled gently

iwa quickly moved away from the girls and he grabbed your hand so you both could go somewhere else to talk privately

the back of the gym was quiet and you leaned against the wall, iwa joining you shortly

‘how-how are you?’

you asked and he scoffed, totally surprising you

‘is this how we are y/n? asking each other questions as if we’re friends who are meeting for the first time in a while? wait--actually we are arent we?’

you grimaced and looked to the side, knowing he starts his stages of anger with being passive aggressive

‘haji,, please understand’

you pleaded and swiveled to stand in front of him

iwa didnt meet your eyes, instead shoving his hands in his pants pockets and eyes trained to his shoes as he kicked rocks

‘y/n, ive been trying,, for months ive been understanding. please dont ask me to understand anymore’

he snipped and you sniffed

‘im doing this because-because my grades are starting to matter! my future is resting on these years! i have to-’

‘dont you think i know that?!’

he cut you off harshly

your eyes were shaking at his attempt to calm himself down and his trembling hands

‘dont you think i know that you are doing this for that? because ive known you since i was five y/n and i know you would push everything-everyone- else aside to reach a damn goal of yours. no matter the cost, as long as you get it, right? well youve always been like that and somehow i still accepted that yet years later here we are’

iwa waved his arms around to accentuate his point and hurt was bubbling inside your chest at a subtle jab at your flaw

‘well im sorry mr. volleyball ace player! im not talented in any area so i have to depend on my studies to get me a future! so fck me for trying to survive and create a life for us!’

‘us?! how is this for us?! y/n we cant even last a single year being apart and youre already thinking ahead of the future?!’

‘im doing this for you! for us! just wait hajime! we will be happy-’

‘I DONT CARE IF ITS FOR THE FCKING FUTURE! I WANT TO BE HAPPY WITH YOU RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! AND WHY DOES THE FCKING FUTURE MATTER SO DAMN MUCH WHEN WE CANT EVEN-’

‘BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO BE WITH YOU!’

you shrieked

‘HOW CAN YOU LOVE ME IF YOURE NOT LOVING ME?!’

he huffed and harshly wiped away tears that fell

your lips trembled, hands shakingly reaching out to grasp his arms

‘ha-hajime,, don-’

‘should we break up?’

was he asking you this right now? 

seriously?

‘what?’

you whispered and he finally looked up to let you see his pained eyes

‘y/n do you know what day it was yesterday?’

he asked and you blinked, looking everywhere as you tried to remember any important events

‘t-tuesday?’

that seemed to snap his patience 

with an angry grunt, he turned to punch the wall and crouch to hide his face in his hands

‘damn it, y/n’

he whimpered and your heart broke as you could hear his cries

then it clicked

anniversary

it was your 2nd anniversary

and you completely missed it

completely forgotten

you shrunk back and let out a cry before placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries

‘ha-haji-’

you sniffled and you tried to go closer to him but he wiped his eyes and stood back up

‘y/n lets break up’

iwa requested with a cracked smile

your eyes widened and you ran to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as if you let go, he would disappear

‘haji, we can talk about this! we cant-please dont do this-i can fix this-’

‘we will only hurt ourselves even more if we continue this. i dont want us to hurt anymore y/n. so please, for once, listen to me’

your heart shattering cries filled your space and he didnt think it was this hard until he finally said it

it was a decision that he has been hanging around for a while and even consulted oikawa about it

‘iwa-chan, if you love y/n so much, its best to let her go. dont make you both suffer anymore’

‘i cant-hajime youre it for me-please dont leave-’

you hiccuped and continued to sob

but iwa remained a pillar and squeezed you tightly against him

‘darling i believe we were meant to be. but we just did it all wrong. when the time is right, lets start over again’

he whispered, finally breaking down with you in his arms

-------

iwaizumi hajime became a taboo word for you

even with oikawa, he swore and vowed to never say either of your names and made sure that you would not be around the area when iwa would come over

like even when he knew iwa would just stay inside, he would be constantly on the lookout to make sure you both didnt see each other

the last time was when you both saw each other in the morning as you exited your house to walk to school

it must’ve been a few months after the breakup and even oikawa felt the raw pain hovering in the air

it was suffocating and oikawa had to motion you to walk because if you both stayed even a second, someone-or both- would start crying

you continued like that for years until you reached your third year

you continued being part of the volleyball team as the medic while kiyoko was the manager

the new recruits were causing up a storm and you were particularly fond of your kita kouhai kageyama tobio

‘kageyama? kageyama tobio?’

you asked once you caught sight of the familiar looking blueberry

he looked up and recognized you as his former manager

‘l/n-senpai!’

he shouted and you ran up to give the boy a hug

‘gosh! youre so tall now! i remembered when you were wee tall!’

you teased and ruffled his hair

‘uh-you know him, y/n?’

suga asked and you nodded

‘eung! we went to the same middle school and i was a manager there’

‘she was friends with iwa-’

ope

something flashed in your eyes 

kiyoko knew that name bc of how you were so depressed about it for 2 years and she started shouting random nonsense, scaring the 2nd and first years

‘y/n! we got new medical tape!’

she sang out and you perked up

‘finally?! we dont have to use duct tape anymore?!’

you excitedly ran over and everyone was both shook that kiyoko was loud and two, you were actually excited over medical tape

kageyama shrugged and continued on training

he kinda figured something happened so he never said anything or asked you anything in fear of upsetting you

and when it was announced that you were going to a practice match with seijoh, kiyoko actually told you she would cover it to make sure you dont see him there

‘its fine, y/n, i got you’

but ofc, you couldnt skip inter high

ltr an event when anyone in the team could get injured so you forced yourself to just ignore it and go

you did a good job of hiding whenever he was in view until the time they actually faced each other

you were walking alongside kiyoko and settling some things down at the bench when you felt his stare

you grimaced at his intense stare and the entire team mistakenly took it as him being interested in you

‘HAH?! LOOK AWAY YOU BEANSPROUT!’

noya growled

‘YEA! DONT LOOK!’

ofc hinata echoed

the 3 seijoh third years exchanged looks of unease when iwa sighed and looked away

‘oi! dont do that, boke!’

kageyama chided and hit the orange boy with a water bottle at the head

hinata whined and glared at him

‘that porcupine was looking at l/n-senpai! he wants to steal her!’

‘boke-’

‘doesnt matter anyways. we broke up ages ago’

you tried to say it jokingly but they couldnt miss the crack in your voice

‘hah?! he broke up with you?! you?! goddess l/n-san?!’

tanaka raged and noya had his own face of shock

the famous seijoh ace dated you?!

this handsome bara arms muscle buff man had the priviledge to date you and yet broke up with you?!

‘yall didnt know that?’

kageyama questioned and everyone glared at him

‘how do you know’

‘i just did. i didnt want to say anything for this same reason that you guys didnt know and she wouldnt want her business out there’

he simply replied and continued filing his nails

you looked up and smiled

‘it doesnt matter anymore. it was years ago so its fine’

‘L/N-SAN WE WILL AVENGE YOU!’

‘WE WILL! WE WILL!!’

the three stooges swore and you smiled softly, ruffling each boy’s hair

‘then go out there and make me proud’

but we know how this goes

they lost and you were so devastated for the others and you dropped your bag to go and comfort a crying hinata

‘sshh, dont cry dont cry. im right here’

you cooed and he accepted your embrace, hugging you tightly

once he finally calmed down, you were able to get him to a good enough condition to walk to the bus to go home

you went back to get your bag when you found something on top of it

a single white carnation

and a small ripped piece of paper that said,

‘my name is iwaizumi hajime. i think youre really pretty’

a/n: iknowiknowiknow i died but im not back to life and this request was lowkey difficult and i dont think i did a good job w it because angst always gets too angsty for me but i couldnt resist giving this a sad ending like bls!!! and uwu im still working on that oikawa route bc ya girl cant decide how angsty she wants it to beeee and i have like 4 different versions of the route in my drafts hehehe,,,, but i hope yall liked this and uwu ive never been in a serious relationship before so i wouldnt know what to fight about and came up with this:(

[copias-thrall]

I really liked the Papa III x F! S/o where the s/o was a typical shy and cute introvert, but this huge dork with those closer to her. Would it be alright if I requested the same with our dear Papa Copia (god I’m so happy to call him papa now :) )

Of course, nonny! Let’s get some sweet Papa IV up in here.

(Reference Prompt here. 😊)

Copia notices you because of your quiet nature. There are lots of Siblings that are vying for his attention and favors…and then there you are: sitting quietly during mass and reading the hymn book.

(He doesn’t have to know that you’ve been reading the same page the whole time while you admire him from out of the corner of your eyes.)

Every time he looks out, all he sees is your quiet dignity, and it speaks to him on such a personal level. While he’s grown to enjoy and embrace the showmanship of the Ghost project, he’s not a natural extrovert. So, when he sees you existing in your subdued state, he can’t help but yearn to be right there with you.

He sees you reading your book in the quad on a nice day, and he immediately pictures himself with his head in your lap as you read to him. When he spies you daydreaming in the library, he imagines what it would be like to play footsie with you under the table. As he comes across you sweeping the halls with your headphones on, he pictures giving you a homemade mixtape to listen to while you work.

Really, he wants to worm his way into the rich inner life he knows you must have.

He never does anything about it, though—in his mind you’ve been perfectly clear about your indifference to him. And he’d rather not stammer through an invitation that you’re only going to reject.

The mess hall is always a sticking point for Copia. He loves the attention—he does; it amuses him to watch the Siblings fight over who acquires his meal and who gets sits next to him. He’s still a man with an ego, and he likes it to be stroked.

But.

Some days, the whole scene just gives him a headache. On days just after an important sermon, or when he’s just back from tour, or when he’s spent the morning on a stack of paper Imperator has given him, “ASAP now, please, Papa”—it’s simply too much for him to have to be On for his admirers.

On those days, he has his Ghouls create a distraction (and Dew is always more than happy to set a fire) so that he can get in and get out with no one noticing. Then, he tries to find a quiet, out of the way place to eat his food in peace.

And that’s how he encounters you cavorting about with your friends.

You're out on the grounds because it's a fine spring day, and he can't believe that his this reserved, demure Sister is running about and chasing her fellow sister with a worm! You're laughing—not a coy titter, but a full belly laugh after you make a ribald joke about Imperator and a Brother!

Copia gapes.

You have a secret side that only your intimates know about? Well! It’s a circle he desperately wants to be a part of! (Even if he’s contractually not allowed to jest about the Seestor.) 

He imagines your laugh ringing out in his quarters as you let his babies crawl all over you (someone who doesn’t mind worms surely wouldn’t mind rats, yes?), and how you'd make him laugh with your uncouth humor. He can almost taste the domesticity.

But…he decides to stay out of sight—he doesn't want to ruin the party (which he’s sadly come to realize that, as Papa, he does quite often just by virtue of his presence)—and that’s when he realizes he actually has a hope.

You’re lying back in the grass, watching the clouds roll by, and you say,

“Hey, that one looks like a rat,” to which your friend responds, “That’s just cuz you have Popia on the brain.”

“I do not!”

“You think he’s gOrGeOUs, you want to KisS him, you want hUG him,” he singsongs.

“Shut it!” you screech as your face flushes and you throw a balled up napkin at him. 

He blocks it easily, and you lie back down with a huff.

“Whatever. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

Embarrassingly, the conversation shifts to how you’ve done it to yourself and if you’d just look at Copia instead of doing your best impression of a church mouse, that would be a good start.

Your face burns the whole time. I mean, having his intense focus just on you? 

You shudder. 

Surely you’d combust.

Copia bites his fist.

He could…? Have you??

***

Perhaps any of the other Papas would have been on you like white on rice…but research has always been more Copia’s thing.

Which means he spends the next few weeks slinking about like a bad spy (seriously—he might as well have on Groucho Marx glasses) trying to figure out what all your favs and interests are. 

And the Siblings are beginning to talk about it.

“He was behind a column, and I thought he was a statue,” hisses one. “He moved, and it scared the crap out of me!”

“I saw him petting the potted plants in the west corridor like a weirdo,” whispers another. “I hope Primo doesn’t hear about it!”

“I went into the broom closet to get cleaning supplies, and when I pulled the light on, he was just…standing there!” laughs someone else. “I was too surprised to be startled. He just coughed and excused himself!”

The only weird thing to you is that you seem to be the only Sibling who hasn’t witnessed Copia being adorable odd.

You often sit by that pillar to read when it’s chilly outside, and that area in the west corridor is where you sweep. Heaven!—that broom closet is next to the wash station you use! How haven’t you seen him even once?

Dew thinks this is great fun. He’s been suggesting even more ridiculous schemes (that Swiss and he giggle about back in the Ghoul dorms) for Copia to “overhear” you and your party—which Copia is taking down in earnest.

Aether thinks Copia’s being a dumbass and guesses he and the girls will have to fix this mess. Cirrus thinks Copia just needs to learn the hard way (“He’s taking advice from Dew—how does he not know better?!”), but Cumulus agrees. The two of them coral Copia into the practice space where they firmly, but gently, tell him to stop pussyfooting around and just kiss the girl already!

Copia stutters out a series of awkward rat noises before simply nodding.

“I have been procrastinating, eh?”

“You can do it, Boss.”

“Who’s the best Papa!”

Copia straightens his posture. “I am.”

***

You’re staring out the window in the classroom—woolgathering instead of dusting—when you hear a quiet throat clear behind you. You nearly jump out of your skin and hurriedly turn to make your excuses.

What you’re expecting is Sister Imperator on one of her shadow runs—but what you see is a one (1) Papa in his casual blacks (that still seem vacuum-sealed onto him) looking at you with eyes full of mirth.

It’s with great effort that you yank your eyes from his thighs up to his face.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency, sir! I-I-I…” you stutter before composing yourself. “If you need the room…?”

A smirk turns up one side of his lips as his white eye twinkles at you.

“It is you I wish to be seeing.”

You toss the duster to the side and smooth down your habit.

“M-me?”

“Sí.”

Did you do something wrong??

You worry nervously at the sides of your habit.

“I—” Copia starts, then suddenly looks unsure. He runs his hands over his head, smoothing his thick hair back into place.

He starts again, his speech clipped and formal.

“Would you do me the honor, Sister, of joining me for dinner?”

 “I—dinner?” Like a staff dinner? Or...?

Copia blinks at you.

“I am asking you on a date.”

You blink right back.

Just you and him? Alone… 

His face turns into lines of apprehension.

“Mi scusi—perhaps I am mistaken.”

He starts to back away, and you finally find your voice.

“Wait!”

When he stops, you gulp and take a deep breath.

“I would like that, Your Dark Excellency.”

A look of relief smooths his worried expression right before he smiles at you.

“Ah…‘Papa’ is fine, Sister.”

He takes his leave of you, closing the door behind him.

You manage to hold yourself together for another moment before you let out a loud whoop and jump up and down (and unbeknownst to you, Copia is standing just outside the door, beaming).

***

Dinner went over smashingly (literally—between the nervous energy of two of you, a plate, a goblet, and a wine bottle all ended up in pieces). Copia was the perfect mix between awkward rat man and smooth Papa, and you felt comfortable enough to engage easily in conversation with him. 

You’d been a little trepidatious about after dinner (Copia certainly had not absented himself from the pleasures afforded to a Papa), but the only thing you’d done in his quarters was to meet his rats.

He’d walked you back to your room, then asked if he could kiss you. It was just a press of his lips to yours as he’d cupped your cheek, but it had felt like a promise.

The two of you end up making a perfect couple, actually. Copia, of course, respects your quiet demeanor, but it’s more than that—he understands it. The only time he singles you out is when you need to be his date to a clergy function or Abbey party—and he always gives you forewarnings for those!

On the flipside, you and he have the high capacity to be total dorks. The two of you feed off each other's humor, often being the only two in the room cracking up as you wheeze half-uttered statements at each other while the rest of the gathered looks on with pained expressions.

But neither of you care. 

You finally have your Papa, and he’s made all of his imaginings with you a reality. 

[focsle]

Vendryth Bio

HELLO here I am with one of my Gigantic Character Bios.

Basics

Name: Vendryth

Nickname: Ven to friends. He also has a number of tacky nicknames in the various small localities he helped out over the years: The Golden Traveler, The Dragon, Trollslayer, Midwinter Hero, ET CETERA ET CETERA. To Neris he is ‘Grandpa’.

Age: Died at age 326. Born 1E 2594, died in 1E 2920. Is Neris’s resident ghost as of 2E 582.

Gender: Man

Race: Dunmer

Class: Battlemage and restoration master

Physical Traits

Height: 6ft

Weight: 210 lbs

Hair: Auburn, pulled back in a long braid.

Eyes: Red

Skin: Dark blueish grey

Distinctive features: Full Van Dyke-style beard. A lot of assorted scars from 300+ years of Fighting Things. Really big gaudy dragon tattoo on his chest.

Mannerisms: He has a confident ease moving and existing in the world, and he definitely takes up space in a lounging sort of way. He also tends to relate to people physically—SHOULDER SLAPPER sort of guy.

Voice: Friendly and booming. Bit gravelly but refined.

Fashion: He likes ornate armors and likes to keep ‘em shiny. In the day to day however, he dresses very simply...keeps his shirt collar as open as possible...

Emotional Traits

Personality: He’s very personable and very willing to help people, to the degree that he is prone to butting into situations that initially don’t involve him. He almost never turns down requests for help and can quickly shift to adapt to situations that call for his attention. He tries to behave honorably, though he hasn’t always done so in his interpersonal relationships in the past and is awkward in coming to terms with that.

Likes a good time. Is boisterous and rollicking and sometimes has an air about him that he doesn’t take things seriously, even though as said above, he can rapidly switch gears to handle grave situations. He’s chummy with everyone. A bit flirtatious & slutty. A pro at entertaining swaths of children. Good at calming horses.

He’s very vain, though not arrogant. He’s surprised if someone isn’t impressed by him, but not upset or offended. He does Heroics partly because he has the ability to and thinks it's the right thing to do, but also because he likes the attention. Likes being fawned over. Doesn’t wanna wear a helmet to cover his pretty face.

Religion / Belief system: He more-or-less adheres to the Tribunal (much to the chagrin of Grandson Neris). He doesn’t believe them to be Actual Gods and thus doesn’t ‘worship’ them, but does recognize and respect them as powerful leaders and has no problem serving their will when it comes to the defense of Morrowind. He later became one of Vivec's Buoyant Armigers, and was quite reverent to both Vivec and Almalexia.

He’s wary of all Daedra. Just expects them to be troublesome and either doesn’t involve himself or actively works against them. He’s pretty straight-laced about all that.

Lifestyle

Background: He was born into a minor family in House Telvanni. Despite his lack of Notable Lineage, he proved to be very magically adept, especially in matters of restoration magic. In his early 20s he married a woman named Tendreni Ilyiil. Their marriage was a strategic one centered more on solidifying future power than anything else—his skills, and her more powerful family connections. It didn’t work out, particularly as Vendryth’s interests turned more towards being a healer rather than the acquisition of knowledge or power. He wasn’t good at communicating that it wasn’t working out however. He decided instead to simply abandon Tendreni and their infant child and forgo any connections to his house. While he would come to regret that action as he got older, he never made amends, feeling too much time had passed for it to mean anything.

Over the decades he worked with both the Mages and Fighters guild, intensely studying Restoration but also battle techniques and becoming quite powerful through the ranks as a result. Initially he took contracts through the Fighter’s Guild to assist people. Then he became a bit of a Freelance Hero around Tamriel, chasing the high of Minor Glories in numerous regions. His mastery of Restoration magic enabled him to slow his aging considerably.

His work took on a more concentrated effort when he was a little over 100 years old, in defense efforts against the first Akaviri invasion that earned him recognition among his peers. He would continue to serve in Morrowind's military for a time, and then more specifically for Vivec as a Buoyant Armiger. Through this work he had the flexibility to continue his Pro Bono Heroics around Tamriel, but would respond to calls back home when needed.

By 2840 he was back to his military engagements, operating as a high-ranking healer during the Four Score War. While certainly not always on the front, he was involved for the entire 80 engagement and managed to live through it as a decorated veteran. Unfortunately when Mournhold was sacked shortly after, Vendryth lost his head to one of Mehrunes Dagon’s army while trying to heal someone.

He had an honorable burial in Necrom, though not in the Ilyiil tomb. However, simmering generational anger over his initial abandonment of his first family led to his ghost being tracked down by Ilyiil ancestor spirits who then bound him to protect the family tomb. He was there for 600 years, and lost considerable parts of his memory and identity as the notion of being stuck there for eternity became intolerable and his emotional and mental state deteriorated. He was forgotten by everyone, beyond a few obscure scholars of specific military history, as the people who remembered him died. He became a very angry and violent spirit until he ran into Neris who was reconciling with his own feelings about his family and sense of abandonment. Neris ended up helping to free Vendryth and established a shrine for him in his own house. Kindred spirits in many ways, Neris’s companionship helped Vendryth get a lot of himself back, and Vendryth also helps Neris take his final steps away from House Telvanni.

Place of residence: In life he lived in a fancy Hall just outside Mournhold. As a ghost he hangs out in a dedicated corner of Neris’s library in Middle Of Nowhere Vvardenfell.

Occupation: Local Hero™, Buoyant Armiger, battlefield healer

Habits: He’s very particular about his appearance...a Preener. Will absolutely fuss over his reflection in a breastplate he’s shining. Winds down with smoking assorted combos of psychoactive herbs in the evenings. Tends to touch people’s arms or has a hand on their shoulder or something when he’s talking to them.

Hobbies: Adventuring (and long walks through impressive landscapes), gathering up all the local rumors, fishing, musical inclinations, reading a small always-rotating collection of books he finds in his travels and then leaves at the last inn he stayed at once he finishes them.

Likes: Campfire stories or collective songs i.e. activities that include a lot of people, theater, retelling his adventures, being recognized, quaint little towns with warm rooms.

Dislikes: Having to be sneaky or anonymous in any way (he’ll DO subtlety and anonymity if it is required of him but UGHHHH!), having to constantly confront the mortality/death of people around him, feeling ‘kept’ by anyone, losing sleep for any reason, having to skip meals.

Goals: His interests move from ‘I want people to know who I am and I want stories to be told about me’ notions of fame, and as he gets older it turns more into ‘I want to do what I feel is right and will help people’. He always appreciates public admiration and relishes in it, but ends up feeling a greater responsibility over where he stands in life and how he can contribute.

Relationships

Orientation: Straight, ish. He’s attracted to women, but he’d be flattered and wouldn’t necessarily say no if propositioned by another gender. But the actual attraction wouldn’t be there.

Relationship status: Had a long string of romances and families across the continent, as well as one dedicated long-term partnership with a General in the Four Score War that was his last relationship. As a ghost…..he’s a ghost…

Notable Relationships:

He fathered 37 children (that he knows of) over his first couple centuries. While he was never completely absent, he definitely wasn’t involved in parenting. He’d write everyone, he’d make sure everyone was materially supported, he’d show up and stay for a few weeks at a time with gifts and stories, but wasn’t much of an Active Partner. He very much considered everyone family and had no personal sense of relationship decay over time; this was met with varying degrees of agreement, acceptance, indifference, sorrow, anger, and resentment across all the different parties.

He grew to be a more somber man once he realized he was outliving them all. Not just partners, but a number of his children too.

Tendreni Ilyiil: His first wife. Their relationship was one of circumstance, duty, and politics. They were quite formal with each other, and had differing senses of ambition. When Vendryth left Tendreni was furious about it, largely because of the principle of the thing rather than because she experienced much hardship without him (though raising an infant more on her own was something she was very angry about, though there was family help for her there). She didn’t feel a loss with him gone. She thought he was a childish coward and wrote him off almost immediately for it. She moved on, but her parents harbored a more significant grudge, as did her child to an even greater degree, especially as Vendryth’s name became more widely known and celebrated. These ancestor spirits, rather than Tendreni, were the ones who ended up binding his ghost to the tomb.

Neris Ilyiil: His great great great great grandson, of Tendreni’s line, who ended up saving him from his spectral imprisonment. Vendryth is very fond of Neris and sees quite a bit of himself in the boy. He loves exchanging adventure stories with him, even though Neris’s tend to be a bit different. He’s grateful for Neris’s help and is also more than willing to provide a sense of encouragement, family, and guidance to him. 600 years in a tomb means he lost the threads of all the rest of his family members and doesn’t know where any other descendants are. As a result he’s really close to Neris because Neris is the only thing that makes him feel like he still...Existed at one time.

Lady General whom we are still working on a name for: A General who Vendryth served under in the Four Score War. She initially thought he was underwhelming which he found…completely baffling and intriguing and his conclusion was ‘she is underwhelmed by me not because I’m NOT great, but because clearly she has done something greater and now I need to find out about it’. Was deeply curious about her from the beginning. Rather than his earlier relationships that were built on initial physical attraction and his usual ‘I am going to charm her with my Gallant Hero Energy’, he grew close to her out of circumstance first and then utter respect and admiration for her as they worked together. She was his sense of grounding through the whole war and was the first person he was actually In Love with. He hoped the relationship would continue beyond the war—that he kept thinking would end the next year, and then the next year, etc. It was unrelenting and he likely wouldn’t have stayed if not for this partnership. He felt it was worth all the enduring hardship. She saw to his burial after the destruction of Mournhold.

[whenrockwasyoung19]

It’s Time to Talk about a Bespectacled Elephant in the Room

I’ve been in the Beatles fandom for 8 and a half years. I have had a Beatles blog for the entirety of those 8 and a half years, and I have watched as discourse about these four men evolve. The discourse inside and outside the fandom has become so toxic that I don’t think I can engage with it in the same way that I could before. Let me explain. 

When I entered this fandom 8 and a half years ago, it was in 2012, quite an infamous year in tumblr history. That was the pique of “”cringey”” fandom culture. The Beatles fandom was as steeped in fandom culture as any other fandom. I know this because I was part of two of the top of fandoms at the time, Doctor Who and Sherlock. Believe me, I have seen cringe. 

The fandom at the time was totally aware of the John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s flaws as individuals, but most fans tended to simply enjoy Beatles fandom as if it were the 60s. Some might call it ignorant bliss. If you asked me at the time, I’d have said it was self-aware ignorant bliss--if that even makes sense. At the time, there wasn’t a person with a Beatles icon who hadn’t heard the line “John Lennon beat his wife.” Everyone knew it, but everyone also knew the real story, and so everyone just made peace with it. As a result, people didn’t think about every bad thing the Beatles ever did on a daily basis. It was more like a once-a-month kind of thing. Otherwise, fandom discourse was quite fun and relaxed. There were no shipping wars, no one fought over who was the best Beatle, everyone gushed over the Beatles wives, and we all just had fun with fics and fan art. 

Of course, in this period, people engaged in conversations about one bespectacled Beatles problematic behavior. These conversations usually came from outside of the fandom. It was usually randos coming into the tags or into someone’s ask box and ranting about John Lennon’s violent behavior. Some of it came from within the fandom. Some people really didn’t like John and gave others shit if they listed John as their favorite Beatle. A lot of the discourse boiled down to: ‘hey, I see you like John Lennon. You should know that he beat his wife. And now that you know that, you should feel bad about ever liking him in the first place.’ And the response was often, ‘Actually, John Lennon didn’t beat his wife. They weren’t even married at the time. And also he didn’t beat her, he slapped her once in the face, and then never did it again.’ No one’s minds were changed. The fans had made their peace, and the antis came off as cynical and pretentious. 

When Dashcon happened, and Tumblr took a hard look at its cringey fandom culture, the Beatles fandom evolved as well. The fandom became, frankly, less fun. It no longer felt like a group of people who found the Beatles decades after the 60s and were fangirling like it was 1965. There was still some of that left, but a lot of it kind of faded. So, most fandom interactions were reblogging pictures of the Beatles from the 60s and various interview clips and quotes. But the barrage of antis never really went away, and the response didn’t evolve. 

Then, the advent of cancel culture came on. I always waited for the Beatles to get, like, officially canceled, but I also felt they were uncancel-able at the same time. Let me explain. I have been a Beatles fan primarily in an online space, rarely engaging with fans in real life. But I have met fans who are life-long Beatles fans, people who are a lot older than us and who’s fandom isn’t tied to the internet. They don’t give a shit about any of our discourse. They may or may not have heard it before, but they seem totally indifferent to all of it. I’m sure most of them have never heard ‘Mclennon’ before. These are the people that flock to see Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert (and pay astronomical prices for it). These are the people who go to record shops and buy vinyl. These are the people I run into at flea markets who buy up all the Beatles merch before I can even arrive (true story). So, the Beatles will never be canceled because there will always be people who love the Beatles and don’t engage with online discourse. Rarely said, but thank god for Gen-X. 

As cancel culture took over the internet, fandoms changed. It’s not as noticeable in fandoms without problematic favs. For instance, I’m also steeped in the Tom Holland fandom, and that boy is a little angel who has done no wrong. No one has discourse about the unproblematic boy who plays an equally unproblematic character. But in fandoms with ‘problematic favs’ the mood has shifted. I’m also in the Taron Egerton fandom. Taron Egerton, for those who only follow me for my Beatles stuff, is a genuinely sweet and kind person who has had zero scandals in his six year career. There were some rumblings when he was cast as Elton John, and some people took issue with the fact that he’s a straight man playing a gay man. This discourse seemed to die quickly as a whole lot of straight people played gay people in that same year (Olivia Coleman as queer Queen Anne, Emma Stone as her queer lover, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury). Why jump on this boy who at the time was still technically on the rise. He’s not exactly the same target as someone like Scarlett Johansson who has her pick of roles. Taron doesn’t have quite that some power in Hollywood, and I think most people made peace with the fact that this was a big role for him, and it’s not really fair to take that away from him. So, all in all, the closest thing to a scandal was something that died pretty much on arrival. 

That was until this summer when everything changed. When George Floyd was murdered, celebrities flocked to social media to mourn his loss. Taron’s social media account was silent. For weeks, Taron said nothing about Black Lives Matter or Floyd’s death. This caused outrage in the fandom. Many raced to defend him, starting a hashtage #IstandwithTaron. Others sought to tear him down and anyone who supported him. The kind of mania this one incident caused tore through an otherwise peaceful fandom. What I saw was two sides in a total panic. The antis were people who once had faith that Taron was a good person and were now questioning that. Andthe defenders were people who desperately wanted him to be a good person and were afraid that he wasn’t. In essence, both sides could feel Taron about to get canceled. The defenders wanted to stop it, the antis wanted to ride that wave. 

What this long drawn out Taron example is meant to convey: is that cancel culture has put fandoms on edge. One’s fav has to be perfect, otherwise it can jeopardize the existence of the entire fandom. I’ll admit, I was afraid that I’d be some kind of pariah for standing by Taron through all of this. My actions were to basically reason with the antis but still defend Taron. I defend him mostly because I felt that his silence was the result of a needed social media absence and that trying to shame him back onto social media was an invasion of privacy. But I was genuinely afraid that he would get canceled, and the fun of the Taron fandom would be lost. 

In the Beatles fandom, it often feels like the Beatles, mainly John, have already been canceled. I see this coming from two different sources: antis from outside of the fandom and antis within the fandom. The outside antis are just the same as the ones from 2012. These are people who like to drop in that John Lennon beat his wife, posting this in the tag (which violates an ancient tumblr real by the way--no hate in the tags). 

The antis outside the fandom speak to a larger anti-John Lennon sentiment online. I see references to John Lennon ‘beating his wife’  on Tiktok and twitter. The tone of anti-John Lennon posts has shifted. Before, it felt like the antis were being smug but also argumentative. They wanted to have a conversation about this bit of info they read on Reddit with no context. Now, “John Lennon beating his wife” is practically a meme. It’s a running joke online that John Lennon was a wife beater. I can’t look on my instagram explore page because every so often a John Lennon beats his wife meme will pop up amongst the other, normal, memes.

This change in discourse suggests that the internet has just accepted this as fact now. I should note that back in 2012, it seemed as if few people knew this fact. The fandom knew it, and these random antis knew it, but few others did. Now, because of how common these memes are, it seems to be widespread knowledge.

Consequently, the Beatles fandom, who used to ward off attacks from antis, seems to have given in. I recently saw a post from a Beatles blog (had the URL and icon and everything) that confessed they felt guilty for listening to the Beatles, and I’ve seen similar sentiments expressed in the fandom. People tend to put disclaimers in posts about John or even all four that John is an ‘awful man.’ It seems like the self-aware ignorant bliss has completely gone away. Occasionally, I still see posts joyously talking about Mclennon or reblogs of old photos from the 60s. But the culture has shifted. 

Online, it no longer feels comfortable to be a Beatles fan. It feels like you have to own up to 8 decades of mistakes by four men you’ve never met. And, I should note, this is kind of how it feels to be a fan of anything right now. Taron is not canceled today, but he could be tomorrow. It’s this pervasive feeling of guilt that the person you’re supporting may or definitely has or is doing something wrong.

I’ll admit this uncomfortable feeling has expanded into other parts of my fandom life. I listen to their music, and I feel elated--the way I always have. Then, I get these intrusive thoughts which sound like all the worst parts of Twitter combined. It wasn’t always like this. Back in 2012, when I knew almost nothing about them, I saw them as four young men who were full of happiness, love for another, and talent. Back then, listening to their music was exciting and joyous. Sometimes, I fear that I can never feel that way again. Next year, when I finally go to Liverpool, will I be filled with excitement or guilt? 

I say all this for a few reasons. One, I love John Lennon. I appreciate all the good he did for the world not just as a musician and an artist but also his advocacy and charity work. I love him, and a part of me will always love him, but observing the change in discourse has enlightened me as a historian. Part of my job is to observe people’s legacies, and John’s is perhaps the most interesting legacy I’ve ever observed. When he died, he was hailed as a saint. But tall poppy syndrome set in, and the antis started. This culture grew and grew to the point where it seems to, at least among the younger generation, taken over the sainthood. 

But as a historian and a fan, I have never seen the saint or the devil. I’ve only seen the man, the incredibly flawed man. The thing that these antis never understand is that John Lennon was painfully aware of his own flaws to the point where it made him all the more self-destructive. In essence, his past mistakes caused him to make additional mistakes. But John, aware of his own flaws, always tried to change and was often successful. I’ve talked about this before, but John demonstrated that he was capable of being a good person, like properly so, again and again. After he struck Cynthia, he never hit her again. His shortcomings as a father to Julian weren’t repeated with Sean. He worked on his drinking, his drug addiction, and his anger, trying to overcome those demons till the day he died. By all accounts, the John Lennon that died in 1980 is not the John Lennon who struck Cynthia Powell at school. That John Lennon was living a cleaner, healthier life. He was a better father to both his sons by that point, and was trying to repair his relationship with Julian. He was a good husband to Yoko and saw himself living a long and happy life. 

John Lennon cannot and should not be boiled down to just his flaws. It’s one thing as a fan to acknowledge that John is a flawed human being (news flash: they all are), but he is also much bigger than that. 

So once again, why am I writing this long, rambling post, once again talking about John Lennon’s virtues? Because if I can’t engage with healthy discourse about the Beatles and John Lennon, then I can’t engage with discourse on the topic at all. So, I probably will post less Beatles stuff because I find it hard to go through the tags or even my dash (well, I can’t really go through my dash anymore for other reasons I’m not going to get into right now). If any of my followers have noticed a lot of Taron posts lately, it’s not just because I love Taron, it’s because Taron’s  tag is pretty much the only location on tumblr I feel 100% comfortable in. Any foray into John or the Beatles tags becomes uncomfortable and guilt-ridden quickly. 

So, I probably will post less about the Beatles until I can find a blog or a tag that doesn’t give me bad vibes. My fandom will likely outgrow tumblr and the internet. I have a ton of Beatles books; maybe I’ll rely on those. I am doing official scholarly research on them now. Maybe that will be my outlet. I’m sorry if I post less about them now, but it’s really for my own well-being. 

[arcticdementor]

I have a certain fondness for cyclical history, or at least the notion that there are some structural patterns that seem to recur in predictable waves throughout history – including ones that could explain our current period of upheaval.

Several observers of history have theorized broad 60-100 year secular “cycles” of historical disorder and reorder, such as William Strauss and Neil Howe’s generational theory and Peter Turchin’s “cliodynamic” forecast of an “age of discord” – both of which predicted a period of extended crisis around 2020 and now seem to pretty much be playing out exactly as prophesized.

…

This stuff is worth exploring more, and I aim to do so in the future. But first, I think it might be worth it for us to start by actually thinking bigger – much bigger. As in: what if we aren’t witnessing a period of change “unseen in a century,” but unseen in five centuries? And, what if we are engulfed not in a secular cycle, but in one more fundamentally religious in nature? That’s an important question to analyze, even if you aren’t religious.

In the last decade we’ve seen the emergence in the West of a strident new ideology of “Social Justice” which, despite its self-conceived secularism, many observers have now convincingly argued bears all the hallmarks of a new religious cult, complete with a new metaphysics of truth and reality, a concept of original sin, a new hierarchy of moral virtues, a self-constructed canonical liturgy and a strict orthodoxy, a de-facto priesthood, sacred spaces, self-abasing rituals, a community of believers, linguistic shibboleths, blasphemy laws, and excommunication – among other giveaways.

But, quite notably, this “New Faith” seems to have, consciously or unconsciously, modeled most of its belief system and ritual practices straight out of the Christian tradition, from an overarching preoccupation with the weak and the victimized, along with an emphasis on atonement (though any conception of grace, forgiveness, or redemption is notably absent), right down to specific forms of ritual, like the washing of feet or the symbolic reenactment of martyrdom.

This raises an interesting question: is what we are witnessing now less an entirely new faith than what in the past would have instead been immediately recognized and categorized as part of the long list of Christian heresies, large and small, which challenged the established church throughout history? Could we be living through, as I posited briefly in my introductory essay to The Upheaval, a religious revolution similar to the Reformation that wracked Europe beginning around 500 years ago?

A 500 Year Cycle

Enter the late Phyllis Tickle, an American academic and journalist following religious trends, and her 2008 book The Great Emergence, which essentially argued precisely that. Tickle’s book is frankly what I would have described as a work of pure kookery as recently as five years ago, but, well, times have changed.

The Great Emergence posits that Christianity has throughout its history been shaped by a recurring 500 year-long cycle of structural and spiritual dissolution, turmoil, and re-formation. Each time, the Church has seemingly been seized by a collective desire to cast off established institutional structures and beliefs. She identifies four past rotations of this cycle, coincidentally describing a “mighty upheaval” that has inevitably consumed the Christian world at every climax of this cycle before order was eventually restored.

…

Tickle describes an established religion as a sort of cable – not just a metaphorical “cable of meaning that keeps the human social unit connected to some purpose and/or power greater than itself,” but with the analogy of an actual cable.

Inside a steel cable are three interwoven strands, in this case representing spirituality (interior religious experience and belief), corporeality (the physical embodiment/evidence of a religious practice’s existence and practice, such as books, liturgy, or a priest’s robes), and morality (essentially applied spirituality, filtered through corporeality). On the outside of the cable is a waterproof casing that protects the interior. In our analogy, this is the religion’s story (the mythic and actual shared history that unites members). Finally, in between the casing and the strands is a pliable mesh sleeve that makes the cable more flexible and less brittle, and helps to absorb shocks. This is the common imagination or illusion of the religion’s believers about “how the world works” and is “to be imaged and thereby understood.” It serves as a general operating system for the group.

So constructed, said religious cable can rest underwater on the seabed of history for quite a long time unperturbed in its function. However, eventually the outer casing (the story) will become corroded, and the interior mesh (collective imagination) disrupted by events. At first this is fine, and the cable continues to hold, or is even repaired. That is until “that fateful time, about once every five hundred years, when the outer casing of the story and inner sleeve of the shared illusion take a blow simultaneously. When that happens, a hole is opened straight through to the braid. The water rushes in; and human nature being what human nature is, we reach our collective hand in through the hole and pull out the three strands one at a time. Spirituality first, corporeality second, and morality last. We pull each up, consider it from every possible angle, and at times finger it beyond all imagining.” (If you’re now thinking of the rapid growth of people in the 21st century that began claiming they’re “spiritual but not religious,” you are connecting the dots here).

…

Which brings us to a final interesting pattern that Tickle identifies in every cycle: the emergence of at least one “new form” of Christianity, but also simultaneously a process of “re-traditioning” by the original faith that has “occurred with each turn of the eras and is a substantial dynamic in the progression from upheaval to renewed stability.” In the case of the Reformation, the Church was “freed” to tackle errors and corruptions, and to make significant institutional reforms (in the Fifth Lateran Council, the Councils of Trent, etc.) during a period of counter-reformation that would eventually produce a less decadent and more unified, clarified, and vibrant Catholic Church.

…

What happened in sum, in Tickle’s telling, is that “sola scriptura, scriptura sola,” which “had answered the authority question in the sixteenth century and, more or less, had sustained the centuries between the Great Reformation” and the modern day, was mortally wounded. In largely Protestant America, this had big consequences (and meanwhile the Catholic Church was facing similar pressures). Any agreement on the three strands of the cable – what it means to be “spiritual”; what the corporeality of the church should looks like, or if it should even exist; and eventually what it means to be a moral person – was now gone.

The result, she says, has been the emergence of a new faith structure.

The very first manifestation of this, Tickle argues, dates back to the birth and explosive growth in America of Pentecostalism, a form of “charismatic” Protestantism that emphasizes a radically egalitarian, direct and personal relationship with God sufficient to produce the famed “speaking in tongues” common in Pentecostal worship. Pentecostalism “by definition assumes direct contact of the believer with God and, by extension, the direct agency of the Holy Spirit as instructor and counselor and commander as well as comforter.” As such, “Pentecostalism assumes that ultimate authority is experiential rather than canonical… Pentecostalism, in other words offered the Great Emergence its first, solid, applied answer to the question of where now is our authority.”

Today, however, even Pentecostalism is beginning to break down – along with evangelicalism and pretty much every other denomination – and see its followers assimilated into something new: the “Emergent Church.” But what exactly is that?

…

And the “Emergents,” it turns out, “are postmodern.” Despite all that rationalist science from earlier, the takeaway from the collapse of authority has been “that logic is not worth nearly so much as the last five hundred years would have had us believe. It is, therefore, not to be trusted as an absolute, nor are its conclusions to be taken as truth just because they depend from logical thinking.”

…

But who ultimately determines the narrative in this ultra-democratic faith? Tickle taps into network theory to answer: crowd sourcing. The group will manifest its own values and own authority. This “differs [from the past] in that it employs total egalitarianism, a respect for worth of the hoi polloi that even pure democracy never had, and a complete indifference to capitalism as a virtue or to individualism as a godly circumstance.”

Is any of this beginning to sound somewhat worrying to you? Well don’t worry, says Tickle – and it is worth pausing here to note that Tickle is an enthusiastic self-described Emergent who thinks this is all great news – the coalescing Emergent Church will settle on new answers to authority, spirituality, morality, and practice, and find its footing as the new dominant Christianity.  Meanwhile the reactionaries left in the corners will undergo a process of re-traditioning and come out the better for it in the end. And they can take heart that “every time the incrustations of an overly established Christianity have been broken open, the faith has spread – and been spread – dramatically into new geographic and demographic areas, thereby increasing exponentially the range and depth of Christianity’s reach as a result of its time of unease and distress.”

And with the new egalitarian faith tradition so deeply in touch with our common humanity, all the bloodshed and general unpleasantness experienced during every past historical case of “emergence” will presumably be avoided (Tickle seems to forget about that part in her excitement). Then everyone will live happily ever after – or at least for another 500 years.

That was Tickle’s conclusion anyway. But she published The Great Emergence in 2008 and died in 2015, so she didn’t live to see what’s actually happened.

The Actual Great Emergence

Tickle wrote her book too soon. Liberal, vibrating, Eastern-inspired hippies no longer, her “Emergent Church” seems to have taken a turn in the last decade that she didn’t see coming, transforming into a rather different beast.

Here’s what I think may have happened. Tickle got a lot of things very right: the cable of institutional Christianity was corroded by science and cultural entropy; sola scriptura, scriptura sola did break down, and the faith did enter a crisis centered on the question “where now is authority?” A new Christianity did began to emerge, just as she described.

In fact the trends toward the collapse of establishment Christianity were perhaps even more powerful than she may have predicted. A recent Gallup poll found that less than 50% of American’s are now official members of a church or other religious organization, down from over 60% in 2008.

…

But – and this is my theory – in the end Tickle’s version of Emergent Christianity proved a weak social construct. It existed to gratify its adherents with the belief that they were still morally good members of a religious tradition, whose primary goal was to provide for their happiness, while liberating them from any higher authority beyond themselves and freeing them from any of the responsibilities or strictures that had once characterized that religion.

In other words, Emergent Christianity was mostly Moralistic Therapeutic Deism all along.

Ultimately, this fragile early-stage Emergent Church didn’t resolve the crisis because it didn’t have any real authority, meaningful substance, or unifying purpose.

Meanwhile, many of the seeds planted within Emergent Christianity that Tickle mentioned were still finishing germinating, namely: post-modernism, narrative-driven reality, direct personal relationship with and self-interpretation of divinity, opposition to hierarchy, and crowd-sourced authority.

But, most important of all was I think something Tickle doesn’t really touch on too much: the modernity-driven suspicion, deep within the hearts even of many Christians, that in fact, as Nietzsche infamously put it, “God is dead.” Increasingly skeptical about the existence of any kingdom of God in heaven, they were primed for a logical alternative: building the kingdom of heaven on earth instead.

The stage was thus set for The Great Merger.  

At some point the Emergent Church came face-to-face with secular, identity-based “Social Justice” activism – likely in the 2010s, when core theoretical ideas behind that movement, based on post-modern Critical Theory and neo-Marxist frameworks of identitarian struggle, first really began to seep out of the academy and crystalize into effective activist movements, such as Black Lives Matter or the trans rights movement, in a big way.

Both sides liked what they saw, but for the Emergent Church in particular this was a match made in narrative heaven. Secular Social Justice activism dovetailed perfectly with both the strong historical emphasis on social justice work within many Christian denominations (including the Social Gospel movement) and the post-modern seeds already present in Emergent Christianity (such as the primacy of self-interpreted identity). But more importantly it offered Emergents nearly everything they had been missing and longing for. Suddenly they had a new source of authority (the doctrines of Critical Theory and the hierarchy of intersectional identity), a clear metaphysics of good and evil (the oppressed and their oppressors), an ultimate objective (to perfect the world by the elimination of evil), and a grand narrative of how to live in the world.

George Orwell famously wrote in his 1940 review of Mein Kampf that: “Whereas Socialism, and even capitalism in a more grudging way, have said to people ‘I offer you a good time,’ Hitler has said to them ‘I offer you struggle, danger and death,’ and as a result a whole nation flings itself at his feet.” Well, the Emergent Church offered its restless followers comfort and a good time on earth; neo-Marxist Social Justice offered them revolutionary struggle, and so they prostrated themselves immediately.

…

That’s not the end of the story though, as I think Emergent Christianity may have had more influence on the secular activist movement than the latter tends to consider. In fact I think it might have been quite important to the rapid emergence and spread of the New Faith.

To start with, it provided the concept of sin. This helped grow and empower the activist movement tremendously. Why? One might not think of free-wheeling secular culture embracing the idea of sin so easily, even joyfully, but it was a simple matter. As an example, picture a hypothetical middle-class suburban white lady, enjoying a relatively comfortable material life but wracked by a vague but unshakable sense of guilt about her existence – for being white in a country with a history often unkind to non-whites; for her consumption habits contributing to environmental pollution and climate change; for being the citizen of a rich country while elsewhere in the world children starve, and so on. Liberalism has never addressed this feeling in a satisfactory way. Suddenly, along comes the New Faith, and tells her that it’s all true: she is indeed a sinner, and she’s not alone! In fact the whole country and her whole race is corrupted by the original sins of colonialism, slavery, and genocide. What a relief! Even better, it has a comprehensive plan of action for how to address this sin.

This helped reorient Social Justice from the purely systemic to the personal. Neo-Marxist roots mean that the modern Social Justice movement tends to think primarily in terms of systems, and aims to drive systemic change to address systemic problems, like “systemic racism.”  Broadly speaking, this is still the case, but the problem is that this is both a hard goal and a cold, impersonal one. It’s not very inspiring to tell people their individual agency is of little import to the machine and that the only way to affect progress is to change the whole machine. Activism seems like pretty desperate business in that case. The concept of sin, however, provides a short circuit to this problem: it implies that progress can be made through a sort of personal moral transformation (say by acknowledging one’s privilege and “unconscious bias” and moving from “racist” to “anti-racist”) which anyone can achieve if they “educate” themselves and “do the work.” Liberalism has studiously avoided telling our secular white lady how she should live in the world, so this kind of moral direction provides the relief of having a distinct path. Moreover, if everyone was to accept this path all the problems of the world would be immediately be solved, so convincing (or forcing) more people to accept the Good News and begin their personal transformation becomes an imperative mission.

…

Finally, it provides an even greater sense of community to the faithful, helping to overcome the atomizing isolation and loneliness of liquid modernity. This is a somewhat odd community though. Just as Tickle predicted, communications technology has made it simultaneously vast and hyper-democratic. You might question whether the strict orthodoxy and blasphemy codes of the New Faith, to which one must submit or be canceled, are democratic, but that is only because you have forgotten your Plato and Aristotle, either of whom could have warned you what tends to happen to pure democracies. As Aristotle put it in his Politics:

[T]here demagogues spring up. For the people becomes a monarch, and is many in one; and there many have the power in their hand, not as individuals, but collectively… At all events this sort of democracy, which is now a monarchy, and no longer under the control of law, seeks to exercise monarchical sway, and grows into a despot.

If you ever wonder why something you said that was fine 72 hours ago is now an unredeemably racist, sexist, excommunicable offense, it’s because the disembodied Swarm Pope, who leads the People’s Democratic Priesthood of All Believers, crowd-sourced it from the swirling Id of the mob on Twitter while you weren’t looking.

…

The problem is that, even if the 500 year cycle that Tickle describes is genuine, it isn’t clear in each case what is cause and what is effect. As Tickle acknowledges at one point in her book, “over and over again,” the “religious enthusiasms” of each period of cyclical emergence “are unfailingly symptomatic or expressive of concomitant political, economic, and social upheavals.” So was the Reformation the cause of Europe’s 16th century turmoil, or just one important manifestation of a broader secular dynamic driving general upheaval? If the “great emergence” was not the cause, then what was? Tickle doesn’t attempt an answer to that, so our inquiry is back near square one.

However, I do have a suspicion that the question Tickle identifies as at the core of recurring crises in established Christianity – “where now is authority?” – is key. It may be that the seeming collapse of any firm locus of authority in almost every aspect of life today – politics, geopolitics, elites in general, religion, morality in general, asset pricing, economics in general, media, information in general, etc. – is central to our whole broader upheaval in the world today.

[whetstonefires]

Sephiroth, 1, 2, 5, 9, 12, 16, 20. I find your take on him so interesting! (And kind of sad too...)

Oh gosh this is so many! Haha okay, here goes.

1.Their physical weak spots

Huh. He’s programmed to be literally impossible to damage in the one actual fight in the Nibel flashback, the dragon. I theorize this might have been his first-level Limit? But of course you can’t use a Limit unless you’ve been injured first. (Apparently they reversed this in the Remake which is a major thematic change and I don’t like it? Anyway tho.)

So on one level his physical untouchability is part of his trademark and there’s a temptation to say ‘none’ and be done with it.

Normal human weak spots, I imagine, he’s not as alien as all that. The throat is the throat, I mean. His disinclination for wearing shirts may suggest an indifference to thoracic damage, but between his tendency to not get hit at all and the existence of healing magic that doesn’t necessarily mean much.

The vertical pupils which can dilate much further than normal would make him particularly vulnerable to flashbangs used in a dark or even dim environment. I assume Wutaian ninjas exploited the heck out of that. :D

2. Their emotional/moral weak spots

Abandonment issues was a big one, I think, and all the huge gaping vulnerabilities created by being a child with no one to love, or who loved you.

Thinking outside of Shinra’s standard pathways is a matter of some anxiety to him, in Crisis Core–his idea of resistance is ‘find my friend first and then oops fail to kill him they can’t prove it was on purpose’ and then later ‘turn down the assignment to find my friend and kill him.’ There’s just, a lot of emotional dependence on a toxic structure indicated by his behavior patterns.

I’m sure that was deliberately instilled, but it’s not that hard. His superpowers aren’t Superman scale self-sufficient until after he ‘dies’ once, and capitalism does what it does. He’s not much less dependent on the Company for survival than the average worker, and more so for identity.

Morally he was disadvantaged by being a corporate supersoldier with Hojo as his parent–the details of his upbringing have never been clarified but they sure didn’t put him anywhere outside Shinra enough for him to form external attachments, or even powerful internal personal ones prior to the rather shaky ones he managed with two peers sometime in adolescence, which leaves fairly few possibilities really.

Anyway morally he’s nothing but weaknesses, even before he got tangled up with The Thing From The Northern Crater and decided he was God and should consume all life. ^^;

5. Guilty pleasures 

You know, I don’t think even pre-evil Sephiroth did guilt much? Waste of energy, and (see above) he wasn’t socialized for it, it’s counterproductive in a soldier. The ‘guilt’ in guilty pleasure is really a species of shame though, and anyone with that much pride is vulnerable to the opposite, even if they weren’t exposed to someone like Hojo growing up….

You know, it was probably novels? He was a reader, and one of the most personal things we know about him from the OG is the deep impression left by Hojo’s furious rant about how inappropriate it was to use poetic expressions about magic. Even ‘magic’ was too sentimental for this domineering science twit.

So, every so often growing Sephiroth would get his hands on a piece of fiction, and the quality wasn’t necessarily great because it was whatever he could pick up in the break room or wherever, but he’d hole up out of sight and scarf it down. Even once he had his own living space and salary and could buy whatever books he wanted and store them, he’d pick up novels on the sly and get rid of them once he was done, like someone was going to catch him. One of the things he used to pick out of the ruins in Wutai during the looting was books.

He always felt a confusing mess of jealousy and scorn about Genesis’ Loveless thing. That he could just like it like that, constantly, right out in the open, where anyone could laugh at him. That nobody had ever taken it away.

Less tragically, I think sometimes he’d go home and watch bad TV. Whatever Midgar’s stupidest soap opera was. Sephiroth caught enough of the reruns to know most of the main plots. He had an opinion about who the father of Jaqueline’s baby should have turned out to be. He would never admit this.

9. Humiliating memories

Okay, as touched on above repeatedly, he grew up with Hojo, who loves breaking people down and laughing at them, so he’s probably got a lot of these.

The worst one is one time when he had a weak moment or an optimistic one, and asked out loud in words for something he really, really wanted, and Hojo said yes, and gave Sephiroth just enough time to get desperately excited and express gratitude before laughing at him and saying of course he was lying. Don’t be stupid.

That isn’t something important enough to bother with.

12. Grudges and vendettas 

‘Burning inside with violent anger’ isn’t there for no reason. From Nibelheim on these define him, and according to bonus materials of middling canon status he eventually sheds almost all identity elements but his grudges.

I think, based on the shape of his breakdown? That for most of his life he told himself that holding onto anger and pursuing grudges was a waste of time and energy. But that didn’t actually help him let any of it go, he just internalized and ignored things. Because he wasn’t actually not holding grudges, he was just reacting like someone who didn’t have any choices, and marinating in spite.

Spite against Hojo surfaces on the way up to the reactor in a way that says to me it’s a habit, almost a reflex. But it manifests in profound pettiness, and I think that’s the only way he normally felt he was permitted to act out against the people who really bothered him, though I’m also sure he channeled a lot of anger into unrelated killing. Natural thing to do when you’re a frustrated teenager who’s supposed to be killing people anyway.

By the time he did it in Nibelheim, it was an old habit.

The fact that he bothered to personally kill the Shinra President as his big debut says to me he was holding a grudge about his entire life against the person who commissioned him and declared the war and shaped the floating Midgar-world that defined his life. I think there were probably a lot of personal insults in there too, just because of the way Shinra Sr. seems to have conducted himself generally.

He’s a Donald Trump expy wouldn’t you.

Sephiroth is written as a much softer person in Crisis Core, almost absurdly so, but even there you can see him resenting Genesis and Angeal more than a little for abandoning him. It probably brought back his whole mess of feelings about Gast, who really did abandon him quite unforgivably but Sephiroth never knew the full circumstances, just that he was gone and later dead. There are signs he blamed Hojo, who doesn’t seem to have gloated openly about the murder even if he did make sure to inform the boy his favorite person was dead now.

And of course later on there’s Cloud, which doesn’t actually make that much sense until you loop in the retcon about Cloud throwing him into the reactor and cutting short his initial rampage. There’s the grudges he seems to have inherited from Jenova, against the Cetra.

It’s not out of the question that he killed Aerith the way he did in part because she was the thing Gast abandoned him for, as well as all the other less personal reasons. I sort of like to think so.

16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

Of his own, as opposed to ‘about him’ that he found out about, I don’t think he really had many? He wasn’t much accustomed to privacy.

I think most of the worst things he did, as a human being rather than a transhuman monstrosity, were pretty unavoidably public; they were war crimes, and happened in front of some fraction of the rest of the army. He was praised for them.

There probably were a lot of dark things he never talked to anyone about, that weren’t really known, but except for outright humiliating childhood incidents like above he wasn’t particularly hiding them. He was just never in a position where it would have made any sense to him to bring them up.

Genesis wasn’t ever someone it was safe to be vulnerable around, and Angeal was uncomfortable with too much emotion, and besides they were fellow soldiers and it wasn’t like the things he didn’t talk about from the war were anything special, and he wasn’t going to complain about his childhood to them. And who else was there?

Dude needed so much therapy.

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines 

I go absolutely nuts with alternate timelines for Sephiroth. He’s so much fun to work with that way.

Lucretia and Vincent stole the baby and went on the run: Firo grew up kinda isolated in the woods with his parents but runs away at thirteen to fight Shinra because he’s so mad they had to leave Wutai because of the invasion. Parzival AU.

Ifalna recruited Sephiroth to her escape scheme and he wound up raising Aerith on the run, under the names Rith and Roth. Beloved Dust AU, that one’s actually online as you may very well know lol.

Vincent blew up the Nibelheim reactor with Hojo and Jenova in it when Sephiroth was six, and then later Midgar blew up as well and the Shinra world order collapsed, and the recently married Mrs. Strife adopted the weird lab kid. Later on Cloud pressures his big brother into starting an anti-bandit militia. Time Of General Strife AU.

Cute three-way blood brothers ceremony contaminates Genesis’ body with Sephiroth’s DNA and sets off his degeneration several years early, when they’re all teenagers and not nearly as famous, powerful, or fucked in the head. Brother and Brother AU.

And so on. ;}

[kewltie]

His office door slams open and a familiar voice comes through the doorway. "Boss! There is a horde of children, a horde of them," Nagai gasps, "outside looking for you. What did you do?!"

Katsuki doesn't even look up from his paperworks. "Do half of them look like they will eviscerate you if you get within ten feet of the group?"

A beat, and then, "Well, yes," Nagai admits sheepishly. "The oldest girl had stared me down like I'm the scum of the earth and I'd never felt so emasculated by a child before."

Katsuki slides out of his seat and stands up. "Yea, those are my brats alright."

"W-wait, what?" Nagai squeaks, face running through a gauntlet of horror. "Yours? You mean as in yours-yours like they're your kids? You reproduce? How does that even work—?"

When Katsuki gives him a searing glare, Nagai has the grace to look apologetic even as he doesn't retract his words. "Do I have to go over basic sex education with you?" he seethes as he walks up to Nagai.

"Uh, no, sir," Nagai says, shaking his head rapidly like a wet dog. "It's just, well," he scratches his cheek, "we never saw you with anyone before. Half of us either thought you were celibate and just obsessed with your work, while the rest thought you were, um," Nagai looks like a deer in headlights, "impotent," he finishes in a rush.

Katsuki swats him in the back of his head. "Stop fucking gossiping with the interns."

"Sorry, boss," Nagai says with a grimace. "We're just surprise that you didn’t just have one but several secret children running around and nobody even had a clue."

"I didn't contribute to their genetics," Katsuki grinds out, because he’s tired of going over this, "but those brats are mine in every sense of the word."

"Oh," Nagai says, brows furrowing. He opens his mouth as thought to say more but quickly closes it when Katsuki shoves pass him and heads out of the door. But it's not long before he starts it up again. "I guess that would explain why they don't look like you at all."

"What clued you in, genius?" Katsuki says dryly. "Is it their white hair or grey eyes?"

"Well, one of them, actually have green hair and eyes instead," Nagai points out, which earns him another swat. "Ouch."

Katsuki roll his eyes. "Shut up, you fucking baby. You're made of steel."

"Boss, your fist of fury can blow a hole through steel, so yea, I'm concern," Nagai defends as they make their way from the back of the agency to the more communal area because Katsuki prefer to keep them far apart as possible. Privacy is valuable commodity that he wouldn’t spare for anything less than absolutely. “I’m actually extremely concern when your hand land on any part of my body."

Katsuki snorts. Fuck HR and everyone who thinks fear can't be a good foundation to a build a work relationship on. His subordinates need a healthy dose of fear to get motivated to do their fucking jobs.

Or else they become useless like this—he curses inwardly.

As soon as they step into the main open area of the agency, there's a cluster of front office personals, interns, and off-duty heroes crowding over several small figures.

Their voice drown out all other noises in the area.

"Are you the Boss' children?" someone asks.

"Where did you come from?" another presses.

"Who is your dam?" A curious excited tilt to their voice.

"Awe, you're so cute!" A coo.

"This isn't a daycare," Katsuki snaps, raising his voice above the crowd. "Get the fuck back to work. I don't pay you all to stand around and do nothing." A series of whine escape but they quickly disperse back to their corner, but he can still their heavy gazes on him. Noisy fuckers.

"Um, I'll just go do something over there then," Nagai says, making a run for it before Katsuki can bite his head off also. Katsuki sighs, feeling a throb stirring in the back of his head. He turns his attention the real source of his headache—three menacing little shits.

They make quite a scene. Like pretty dressed up dolls, standing closely together with held hands as they present a united front against the world. Hikaru, protectively bookend by his older sisters, is wearing a baby blue hoodie with rabbit ears and white pants. It's fucking precious. If Hikaru is supposed to soften the world up for the slaughter then his sisters go right in for the kill. Yuko carries herself like a queen in her red laced dress, mary jane shoes, and a black beret on top of her head. Close by Akira doesn't settle for second best either. She has on a Ground Zero team jacket on with a GZ baseball cap on her head, a another GZ piece of merch on her feet adorned in his signature colors, and a plaid skirt around her hips. The brats are out in style.

It's an overkill, but fuck do they look good doing it.

Ironic, though, that Izuku can barely dress himself, but he always makes sure the brats look good enough to kill when they go out. No wonder they always catch attention no matter where and what they do. A sense of pride sweeps over him, because, yea, they're his brats too.

"Numbers," Katsuki greets them with a short wave.

"Kacchan," they say in unison. Yuko in her cold, detached tone. Akira chirps it excitedly. And Hikaru's voice is soft and sweet. They drop hand so Hikaru can wave shyly at him, because his sisters are too cool for that shit.

Hikaru quickly breaks rank and slams right into Katsuki's leg. "Hi," he murmurs, looking up at Katsuki with warmth eyes.

"Yo," he says back, bending down to lift Hikaru up and holds him over his hip. "What you monsters doing here?"

"Delivering Papa's bento to you!" Akira informs him.

A chorus of oohs and aahs echoes throughout the space. Katsuki snaps his neck toward the noise and glares at them to quite frankly shut the fuck up as Hikaru tucks his head against Katsuki's chest. Unlike his older siblings, Hikaru doesn't fair well under the spotlight.

"Papa requested that we bring your lunch to you," Yuko explains, words carefully enunciated and poised as though they can be pluck off of her tongue. Yuko always come off much older than she really is and maybe that's the burden of being the first born. All the responsibility and pressure, but none of the advantage. She got three younger siblings behind her and another on the way; she can't relax at all. There's an air of unapproachability around her that is indifference to the world but doting to her younger siblings and dam.

Katsuki and Yuko aren't close compare to the rest of the numbers, but a mutual respect is share between them. He's the one providing her family with a roof over their head and food on the table, and she holds her tattered family together with nothing but sheer determination.

She's good girl; Izuku had raised her right.

Yuko looks pointedly at a wrapped bento box that had been tucked to her side the whole time. "He made mentaiko for you since he’d said you like it."

"His first time too!" Akira adds with a grin.

Yuko scowls, bumping her sister shoulder. "Don't tell him that!"

Hikaru lifts his head up and leans closely to Katsuki's ear. "I’d tasted it earlier," he makes a face, "and it's not very good," he confesses, hush and guiltily like a prisoner on deathrow. “I didn’t like it at all.”

"Hikaru, you traitor!" Akira snaps as Yuko drops her face into her hand in exasperation. “Don’t go exposing Papa’s secret!”

"You shouldn't be yelling at him when you're just as bad," Yuko accuses.

Akira huffs. "I would never say anything mean about Papa!"

"It’s always you and your big mouth," Yuko seethes as thick black tendrils crawl to the surface of her skin like living tattoos. "This is where Hikaru had picked his bad habits from. "Inky shadows seeps from her feet and spread across the floor, pooling beneath her as several pointed pillars rise from it.

"You're so bossy, nee-chan!" Akira narrow her eyes, spread her stance, and raises her fists, lips curling in a sneer. "Maybe someone should teach you a lesson instead."

"Fucking hell," Katsuki grumbles, stepping forward to get between them. "Hey, hey, cut that shit out, you brats."

He slightly nudges Hikaru in the back to help him out and Hikaru, who is clearly the best child ever, begs urgently, "Yuko-neechan, Akira-neechan, please don't fight."

Yuko draws in a long breath before closing her eyes, finding that zen within her as the inky black tendril recedes back into her body. "I apologize for such an uncouth display," she says coolly, opening her eyes. It's a calm pool of grey once more. "That was rude of us."

Akira relaxes her tense muscle and drops her fighting stance. "Sorry," she says chagrin, but not completely appeased because despite being the only quirkless individual among her overpower siblings, Akira has enough gutso and blind bravery to fight anyone and everything. Sometimes even her own siblings. It's one of her worst and best qualities; she just doesn't know her own limit. "We'll be good now."

"Don't bullshit me, no. 3," Katsuki scolds. "You four exist just to drive me to an early grave."

Akira grins, rocking back on her heels. "But you loooooove us anyway."

"God, knows why," he says, pulling a disgust face at himself because fuck him does he love these little shits and all their complicated neurosis and hang-ups.

"And we all love you too," Hikaru adds, because he’s the best kid .

"Some of us do," Yuko corrects with an up turned nose, because praise from drawing blood from stone. “I may have accepted him, but doesn’t mean he is our father yet.”

Akira's head snaps to her sister as she opens her mouth to give another vicious barb, but just before that Katsuki quickly cuts in: "Okay, just tell me where are Deku and no. 2 first. I'm sure he didn't come alone and I already miss no. 2's death glare drilling a hole in my head."

Kouki’s zero tolerance for anyone’s bullshit, even his siblings, would be fucking awesome right now.

"Oh, Papa is outside waiting for us," Akira says as Yuko frowns beside her. "And Kouki-niichan is with him to make sure no alpha harassed him."

"What the fuck," Katsuki says, annoyed and beyond confused. "Why don't they just come in with you instead of sending just you brats?”

"Papa's shy," Hikaru whispers in his ears. "He doesn't want to bother you or cause you problem at your work place if he were here."

"You guys aren't mate or married so it would improper for him to visit you without causing sordid rumors," Yuko argues.

"And the fact that you three are here, isn’t either?" Katsuki demands dryly, gesturing to the three menace wrecking a havoc in his agency and the ears and eyes that had been training on them since their appearance here.

Yuko grimaces as Akira gives a sheepish smile.

"Mad, Kacchan?" Hikaru asks, mouth drawn tight as his voice quiets out.

"No," Katsuki answers, pinching Hikaru's cheek. "I'm actually fucking stoke." He turns to the other two and orders, "No. 3, go get Deku and no. 2 and tell them to get their ass in here."

Akira’s eyes light up and she grins. "Yes, sir." She salutes him and runs off.

"Here is what’s going to happen when Deku and no. 2 get here: we'll go to the lounge, grab a table, and you're all going to watch me eat your Papa's shitty food and hope I don't fucking get food poison, alright?" Katsuki tells the remaining two as Yuko makes a face and Hikaru giggles in his ear.

[incorrectcatfacestudios]

Headcanons + Making this to replace my old headcanons post.

Disclaimer: JUST GOING TO SAY NOT EVERYTHING I GIVE THEM IS SOMETHING I AGREE WITH! like Some characters will have a headcanon that’s more because I can ACTUALLY SEE Them enjoying an activity but even if they do I DON’T their are things that these characters would do that I DON’T think anyone else should do EVER!

Asch

Has a safe space in his room where he can be himself. It’s a place where He gets to let his guard down. that is his earth room

Has a tendency to be more attracted to those with a darker tone then him. then again its not really hard to have a darker complexion then him. (Regardless of race someone could have a tan or something, or just be a bit darker than him.) He himself hasn’t noticed this and probably never will.

Mirage sleeps in his room

If Rhys somehow got really sad and mopey he’d locate that ice cream truck and angrily threaten the ice cream man to give him all of the ice cream or DIE. Or he’d just want the entire truck, & if no one stopped him then he’d throw it through Ava’s window into her apartment.  

Sometimes late at night when everyone’s sleeping & Asch can’t, he summons Rhys to his room and forces him to read him a bedtime story. Rhys used to do this when Asch was younger as well. He really likes Rhys’s voice. 

If he was a human he’d probably be some NEET gamer who spends all his time roleplaying on World of Warcraft or something and he’d always rage about bad plot points or game mechanics in Anime & Video games.

The most likely to dirty talk

He sneezes like a kitten and when he does fire comes out. 

Would be god awful at pole dancing

 He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to love and isn’t used to physical affection.   Its.....very pleasant whenever he gets it...but it also feels too comfortable for him. He’s scared of comfort, despite loving it.  

Later on once he embraces affection he becomes absolutely addicted to it and is by far the most passionate of them. Though that angry scowl never leaves unfortunately . His passion rages on like a burning flame, like....an intense RUSH of desire. It can be overwhelming at times. 

In fact he DEMANDS the affection. 

In battle he’s more brutish than the others by far. A giant barrage of flames being sent EVERYWHERE . 

One time he read a fanfiction & thought it was 100% Canon. & when anyone said otherwise He screamed angrily and shot fire balls at them; Even when they weren’t physically there. Of course since they weren’t there he just  ended up burning the phone Ava got for him, but you know, whatever.

Loves curry 

Really likes chocolate and caramel for whatever reason, but he can’t stand other sweets. he also likes strawberries 

He enjoys the video game Indivisible, & some war military tactic games. He also likes rage games for some reason too even though he hates them, its complicated but he can’t stop playing, he gets too into it and too angry. He also enjoys racing games & MARIO PARTY, Especially when he wins.   

His favorite animal is the bull  

Dhaur is his husbando 

His sin is wrath  

 Used to hate Steven Universe at first then grew....to like it. then love it. It seemed so dumb to him at first but as he watched it he came to understand it more. 

Asch trusts Rhys more than the other daemos. He’s known him the longest and believes in his judgement he doesn’t think Rhys would EVER lie to him or deceive him.  Because of this Rhys is the only person Asch is ever fully open with. He wouldn’t leave anyone else he was this open with back on daemos. He is quite FOOLISH to believe this however. :) after all Rhys is working with Lady Grandma. 

He once dared Leif to eat a cactus after getting particularly angry in a game of truth or dare 

 Him and Rhal never get along ever. They always yell it eachother, and get into arguments.

Rhal has far more Knights than Asch 

As for Lady Bish. Asch is completely indifferent towards her.  

He doesn’t know why but he keeps on sniffing Ava’s bra for reasons obvious to the rest of us. Regardless he destroys them just the same

Smell/sweat Kink bitches 

 Probably into S&M.  

 He sometimes rehearses villainous Dialogues with himself in the mirror when no one’s around. 

He also does this with Rhys on occasion...if he’s feeling particularly BRAVE that day

Holds up a lot of pent up emotions and hides it pretty well. He prefers to let them out as anger instead..but when he gets drunk it all just POURS out of him. He just sobs and cries and hugs and kisses and laughs. just...everything. ALL OF THE EMOTIONS BESIDES ANGER he expresses openly. He doesn’t become a completely different person he just becomes far more open. He compliments a lot as well.

He got drunk once and decided from that day NEVER AGAIN! 

 Though when he first got drunk he really liked it. Despite the flavor. and downed like 3. 

 That was a #Mistake 

His favorite Crystal gem is Garnet, or Sapphire? Its hard for him to choose between them. 

Rhys

 The thiccest of the daemos on earth. By that I mean he has the biggest butt 

 What I mean by that is he does a lot of squats, & Glute exercises. He also has a magic that makes all the fat he gains go to his butt but that’s not important. Its not always in affect only for emergencies.   

Would be VERY interested in science if he knew what it was

He would eat pizza with a fork

Gluttonous in any task he enjoys. When he eats he eats ALOT, sex would last a long time with him Though not many people know this about him because he takes his time. 

The  common one is Research, reading, observing, & ESPECIALLY LEARNING.

 He also adores validation give him it.. Wears a long trench coat to hide his big butt from the world well not hide but-. 

 specifically daemos since some uncultured daemos tend to be quite handsy.

 It doesn’t always work but whatever trench coats are cool. 

 has frequent discussions with Asch in his room. He’s the only one Asch is completely honest with. Asch trusts Rhys with EVERYTHING. 

If he was a human he would be a college student studying to be a scientist of some kind. 

He would also work volunteer jobs at the retirement homes. 

If he was a human he’d probably meet Asch by working as his grandmothers nanny. I don’t think Asch would live by himself.

has a tad bit more fat on him than the others. but his muscle can distract from that. Plus his fat isn’t even noticeable outside of his ass His lover would nickname him sunrise, because his smile can chase the night away, cause his face is what brightens their day, because he is the beginning of something new bright and beautiful. 

loves Rubix Cubes If he romanced Ava it wouldn’t be because he likes her it would be because he wants to use her. mostly for her nonexistent power ((magical and political)) 

Loves sweets more than the rest of them

I think I had enough for him last time. 

His mother and Asch’s were close.  

Spends waaayyyy too much time trying to over analyse tv shows he watches 

Is a big fan of Pheonix wright, Fran Bow, Gravity falls, Danganronpa, Dr. Stone, Dr. Who, Fnaf, & pretty much any other game or TV show that either gives you a lot to think about after the episodes/playthrough, is chock full of thousands of possibilities and theories, or requires a lot of thought and problem solving to play. He also likes strategy games like Fire Emblem, & Final Fantasy Tactics. OH! And Pokemon but not for the normal gameplay for the competitive scene. 

Due to having the element of water he is  usually cool calm and collected. but he also is able to flow with a situation if needed. He’s passive  

 Often reads to Asch because Asch has a harder time reading. Him and Asch went to school together when they were younger and thus have a closer bond than the others.  ((Lady grandma forced Asch to go)) 

Once asked Ava if she had any more of those porn magazines. Was pleased to find that Ava had an entire closets worth. Though not all of it was the fighting techniques he was looking for. 

He  has no fucking idea how a vagina works in the slightest. or what vagina’s even look like? Despite his extensive knowledge sex is one of the places where he knows the least. Because he has no idea what lesbian sex is he is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at 2 girls fucking it on in those magazines he’s found underneath Ava’s bed. 

 He once had to help Leif out with the creation of the Furby organ. It was incredibly difficult for him but also very insightful 

 The Furbies terrify him though.  That STARE its..just...ugh 

 The best at pole dancing. 

Is far more elegant on the battle field than the others. His attacks are more precise and careful than theirs are. 

He’s also the best at dancing...well fancy dancing. like ballet,  and slowdancing. 

Sleeps in Ava’s fridge sometimes. 

Starting teaching Noi how to read a bit more after they went to the mall. The shops are cataloged after all

 Is cold resistant to a point. I mean ice magic CAN still hurt him but like...less. I’d liken it to a Pokemon. 

His favorite crystal gem is garnet. If your talking singular gems then I’d say Ruby. But...like Garnets amazing why would you want to choose just ONE of them as your favorite when..

 Likes classical music, R & B, Soft...indie songs, Soft pop, Trap music & Bossa Nova 

If Ava did marry him she’d probably get locked into a loveless marriage for power that doesn’t exist 

If he found out about Ava’s lies he might have a fucking meltdown. :D like everything he was working towards EVERYTHING would have been for nothing. 

That is until the prospect of watching how the human world continues to function without magic...he’d realize they have TECHNOLOGY and how...amazing it is. 

Leif

The more he likes you the more he’ll want to stab you. Just how it is

The more he’s attracted to someone the more he’ll want to stab their guts out. he’s weird like that.

Big sadist I mean we already know this but like in all the ways? ya know?Like he literally gets an orgasmic feeling in his veins when he slices someone open kind of sadistic.  

If he was a human he would probably be a doctor or surgeon who only has his job because it allows him to legally cut people open.

would’ve probably been one of those school bullies who only bullies someone because he’s in love with them if he was a human

You could literally get him to do anything by being like “ I bet you couldn’t do that. “ or saying “ ____ go get the ____ for me” He makes everything into a competition.

Broke EVERYTHING when he was a child. 

Tried to eat a cactus, because Asch dared him to.  

Asch didn’t think he’d actually do it. 

 His sin is PRIDE of course, which is why he feels like he has to prove everything and lives to have his ego STROKED.

Later he tried to shove a cactus up his ass because a stranger on the internet said that only cowards don’t use cacti as dildo’s 

He had to go to the doctor many times. 

He really liked the large amount of sharp objects in the hospital room 

He may or may not be banned from that hospital

The nurse had to file a restraining order it was a sad day.  But they got the pricks out!! and that’s all that matters! PLUS Leif got a new thumb to add to his collection!

He really likes it because its a special decorated one. With PAINT on the tips. its weird and shiny. The nurse probably won’t need it anyways. 

He has a rotting placenta in his bedroom no one knows where he got it!(AND NOBODY ASKS) but it still has the umbilical cord attached no baby though :(   

He isn’t allowed outside anymore for obvious reasons

He found out what Furbies where and fell in love with them instantly . He stole 20 

He made a Furby organ. why? Because its infinitely stupider and more terrifying than a regular one. He forced Rhys to help cause Rhys is smart. It still took like 90 tries and costed Ava alot of money, and Furbies.

He keeps it in his room and he plays it constantly. Mostly to annoy Asch, Ava, and everyone else around him. He also loves the fact that its called an organ. 

He was dared to eat a jar of nails and he fucking did it. 

He obviously had to use healing magic on himself 

He’s really hot for Noi. Like...a bit too much no one notices though.

 A bit hotter for Ava than Noi though, That’s why he keeps wanting to penetrate her with his knife. The more he threatens to do this the more he likes you. 

His element is Life, or earth. Mostly life which is why he’s so vigorous and excited. 

This is also the reason why he’s so obsessed with killing things. when you live your ALWAYS killing, every move you make you end thousands of lives just like that!  Daemos of the life element seem to want to enjoy life to the fullest and never look back. EVER 

As such he’s also good at cultivating life, weather it be a plant or an animal. Everyones always surprised by this

Back on Daemos before his snap he’d actually be alot kinder to Noi, ((IN the first 4 episodes whenever Noi got hurt he was the only one to ever show any concern. I find that interesting in contrast to how he threw that out in some of the later ones. )) He’d often be the one that consoles noi or talks things out with him. 

Leif is more aggressive, energetic and far more cruel in more docile environments. He becomes much more empathetic, & Calm in hostile ones. ((Like that time where he actually got on Rhys’s case for being too hard on Asch, or the times when he was like “Hey are we actually going to let Noi die” and offering to heal Noi when he was writhing in pain when they came to earth.  ))  

He’s actually more perceptive then he seems, he cares about those around him NORMALLY its just going this long without killing anything is maddening for him. HE NEEDS TO KILL. to let it all out, once he does he’ll act as he normally does.  

He was the only one even remotely kind to Noi back on daemos, that changed when they got to earth. (besides Pierce. ) 

 Though due to his normal lack of empathy in a world where he’s human he’d probably be one of those people who just don’t care about how what they say affects those around them. Doing and saying whatever he wants regardless of how others may interpret that. 

He LOVES Skullgirls. He really likes the character designs and the fact that double always has organs or something hanging out. 

 He also loves all horror movies and video games where he gets to cause mayhem; Like Saints Row, or Grand Theft Auto!  

 He’d be the only one of the daemos that is fully accepting of the weird side of the internet. You know the WEIRD side. He’d be into all of the bizar kinky fetishes you’d find on Furraffinity you just know it.  

 He doesn’t actually like Ava he more-so see’s her as a trophy? I mean well he DOES but he’s mostly in the whole fight for her thing to win a prize. And she’s the prize.   ((Well at least before the newest episode)) 

Pierce

The most Physically affectionate of the daemos even more so than Noi

Big buff bara man. LIKE BY FAR THE BUFFEST 

Would probably run an animal shelter or something if he could

Would be running an animal shelter or something if he was human

Likes….fluffy. waayyy too much 

He’s by far the most empathetic of the daemos. Yes even Noi then again Noi isn’t very empathetic. 

 Very tired 24/7 needs coffee to sustain himself. 

 Often by himself in the quiet. sometimes while alone with his thoughts they spiral out of control, Regret, Doubt, Despair, Uncertainty, Fear, Insecurity.  All at once. Does he cry not at all. He suffers as he stands Silent. ultimately its impossible to tell when he’s having one of these moments as he doesn’t show it on his face.    

 Big PP 

He is very loyal but his loyalty isn’t...friendship. He doesn’t really like Asch very much, but he does trust his judgement and follow his orders. He’s a knight after all, besides he appears to have some connection to one of Asches family members ((The daemos in that Flashback had a crown on their horn)

He likes standing because when he stands theirs no threat of getting too comfortable, no chance of falling asleep and drifting away, no chance of drifting into sleep and deciding to never wake up again, no chance of getting lost in the comforts of the object beneath him. 

He is the one that cares for Ava the most  

 Doesn’t really care about the cultural norms on daemos. he flows free like the wind and accepts any new and sudden changes. 

Heavyish sleeper, gets grumpy when woken up.  Like if your trying to kill him his instincts will kick in and he will wake up but otherwise he’ll just stay asleep. LIKE THROUGH EVERYTHING 

Though while he is the most empathetic of the Daemos he’s also prone to intense levels of apathy, where he just shuts down silent lost in his thoughts unable to be disturbed. these are only momentary  

His element is air. Because of this he’s mostly just free and flowing.  

 Sometimes gives Ava Piggy Back rides to make her feel tall 

 Potentially one of the only one of the Daemos that genuinely care about Ava. 

But also potentially only see’s Ava as a cute pet to love on rather than a person in and of herself. But ultimately he does also care about her feelings, and her opinion on things.

 I prefer to think the latter rather than the former. 

one time he accidentally befriended a large swarm of bee’s and they followed him to Ava’s house. 

 Gives Ava piggy back rides 

Out of the Daemos he’s the one who Ava is closest to. The others have yet to even notice this. 

 One time the boys found porn on the phone and just gathered around the phone looking at it confused all bug eyed. Pierce saw the filth on the screen and made the executive decision to yeet it out the window. 

Ava had to buy a new phone 

 Has a rough yet gentle touch. he takes care and caution when dealing with life. 

because of the above him and Leif have an impossibly hard time cooperating when its just them. 

The best with animals. 

 When not caught up in apathy he is the exact opposite. He becomes far too 

Noi

He would enjoy fortnight if he played it

Would thrive off of old memes 

If he was human he would be that one friend you wouldn’t want to hang out with because he fortnight dances, dabs, uses outdated memes, rick rolls people, and everything unironically.

 The least muscular & Thicc by far. he doesn’t have any meat on his bones, unlike the other 4. Flat boney ass. 

He’d probably be some sort of social media icon or a street performer if he was human. He thrives off of validation. Though because he’s a clumsy fuck street preforming wouldn’t be the best gig for him.

Likes music the most

Would probably be the first of the Daemos to watch and enjoy Steven Universe. ((Though I’d bet the others would come around. They always come around))

 He Rick Rolled Rhys one time. 

 His sin is Envy, he often feels insecure about himself, and he looks up to everyone else seeing how “Cool” or great they are. ALWAYS saying “GOOD JOB ____” whenever they do something cool, he’s always excited but with that excitement comes the thoughts...Why can’t I do things like that? I wish I COULD BE STRONG LIKE PIERCE, I wish I COULD BE SMART LIKE RHYS, I wish I could be PAMPERED LIKE ASCH, I wish I COULD BE HANDSOME LIKE LEIF. That’s why he’s so focused on being better than everyone else. I wanna try! Let me see it! LET ME TRY FOR ONCE. that comes from not only desire but ENVY. he just channels this envy in a much healthier way than most would. *Cough* Leif *Cough* 

 He has EXTREME insecurity problems and longs more than anything to be better than the others. 

After he found out what breakdancing was he dedicated SO MUCH of his time trying to learn how to do it. 

He may or may not be obsessed with that 

 He also really likes Ava. But he’s moreso in love with the idea of her? He doesn’t really listen to much of what she says due to the fact that he’s so scatterbrained and spacey. He just likes when she talks. He mostly fell in love with Ava because she was the first person to present themselves towards him as an option. back on Daemos he was relatively low class. Thus he was viewed as unmarriageable, worthless, dumb, WEAK, & Poor, So trying to enter a relationship with ANYONE was out of the question. The boy thought he would die without finding love.

 He thought Ava was actually GENUINELY interested in romancing him and because of that it excited him. NO ONE HAD EVER actually wanted to romance him. Back at home NO ONE liked him, no one was ever kind to him. Well Leif sometimes was pierce would show some kind of a...paternal affection rarely. But Leif also treated him cruelly and insulted him like the others.

Due to how loving and compassionate he is he was kicked  out of his household. 

 Despite this Noi isn’t exactly empathetic. He doesn’t pay attention to the emotions of others he’s far too caught up in himself.  

In the first 2 days on Earth He & Leif would shit talk Asch behind his back. Mostly talking about how they didn’t really like this plan and just vent their frustrations out at eachother 

Starting on episode 5 him and Leif just kinda. He became too scared of Leif to even approach him as much and thus he kinda grew apart from him. thus causing him to latch more onto Ava. AVA likes him, unlike them. HE HAS PROOF after all. 

 He’s also far too stuck up in the idea of a powerful princess loving him a lowly peasant a low ranking knight someone who.....who wouldn’t be worth anything to her.

If they were to find out about ALL of Ava’s lies he’d take it the 2nd hardest. Asch would be the first, Rhys the 3rd. Leif the 4th, & Pierce the 5th. 

 Mostly because the only reason why she chose him, the only reason why they went on a date wasn’t because she was interested in him but because she didn’t want her cover blown. He thought she actually loved him not to say she doesn’t care for him but-...he thought she WANTED him you know? 

She wouldn’t be a powerful princess, she wouldn’t be a cool sorceress, she wouldn’t be this big thing that he wanted so much she’d just be herself and then Noi’s fantasy would crumble. 

Its the dream the fantasy that someone so powerful so strong would set aside their time and pay attention to him take him out in hopes of COURTING him that he fell in love with. Not ava herself. 

That being said he does like Ava and even prefer spending time with her to half of the main cast.   

Ava

Has to take Prescription drugs

Ate cat food once when she was five

Probably into pet play

Really likes collars

One time she went to some bitch in her high schools  Quinceañera to release a box of 4000 angry bees upon it and run

Greedy  

 Spends alot of her time watching Anime when not with the Daemos

 Her favorite Crystal Gem is Amethyst because god damn

 No where NEAR as thick as Aphmau is. She’s alot more twiggy. 

Would totally do the WEED if her dads weren’t hovering around her 24/7 

 Has a lot of Girl on girl porn in her room. Specif under her bed and in her closet.

[thesinglesjukebox]

HATCHIE - STAY WITH ME [8.08] The album's called Keepsake, and it's one we might want to hang on to...

Ian Mathers: I don't care what the lyrics say when you look them up, in the moment of listening I cannot decide each time whether "Stay With Me" starts with "it's all better, now you're gone" or "it's no better". I don't think the song can decide either. It's far from the first song to have that sort of power, just like the drum machine-and-synth, loop-and-swoop approach, while beautiful here, isn't exactly new. But I've heard dozens of songs like this (some even by Hatchie) since the last time one made me feel the way "Stay With Me" is making me feel right now. And isn't that maybe the only true miracle of pop music: that mere human beings can make "just another song," one that on the surface isn't that different than a bunch of others we merely like, and yet it can hit us just as profoundly, as heartwrenchingly bittersweet, as hopefully, as this one is hitting me right now? I could write an essay about the things in my life "Stay With Me" connects up to, people and times and places and songs, but it wouldn't make much sense to anyone else even if it wasn't incredibly, tiresomely self indulgent. But the experience I've been having with "Stay With Me" is among other things a reminder of the worth of staying connected and engaged with the world, in art as in all things, and not just going back to listen to all the things I already love instead. The chances of any other given human being having this reaction to this particular song today ("if I met you in a different moment/if I met you would I be this broken?") are small, sure, maybe even tiny. But god, I hope we all get to keep having those moments, and that we recognize the wonder of them in each other. [10]

Katherine St Asaph: I know this was written as a deliberate experiment in writing a pop song (or so they say; I too have claimed my paychecks as experiments), and thus I know the exact places the mechanics are there to get you (unending wistful chords, the yearning "Everything Is Embarrassing" vocal, with an octave jump exactly where it needs to happen), and the places the mechanics clank a bit too loud (the ending sags before the [perfect] bridge; "I'm not done / I've come undone" is kind of circular, kind of on its own nose). It's also been out for months. But the second time I heard this song it just happened to catch me at the exact moment of flood of memory, of accreted stupid unrequited crushes and breakups and failures and regrets, until I was in tears in a cab, which is really the ideal setting to hear this song. [9]

Edward Okulicz: Oh god, this hits me so hard in my heart, it hurts. "Stay With Me" would have been incredible had it been sung by someone like Foxes as a glass-shattering EDM epic, and it would have been incredible done as a shoegaze number by an alternative universe Lush, but it's also perfect as it is, midway between those two extremes. The lyrics are simple, but they're no more complicated than they need to be. It's some heavy-duty yearning but at the same time it's as light as air. I want to go dancing somewhere this is playing and stare down at my sneakers all night. [10]

Ashley Bardhan: This feels like pretty straightforward dream pop. Super soupy, drowsy vocals over a synth loop. It's very fine, very reminiscent of making out with a 23-year-old mattress boy named DYLAN. [6]

Julian Axelrod: Hatchie's ability to craft grand, immersive synthscapes is impressive, rivaled only by her commitment to pushing semi-formed lyrical conceits past the four-minute mark. [6]

Will Adams: There's a heartbreaking circularity to the lyrics ("you're the one who's won"; "I'm not done/I've come undone") that nails the sense of uncontrollable spinning that comes from an unrequited love. The vacillation between confidence and doubt, the paper-thin façade of indifference, the endless what-ifs and agonizing of what could have been had the cards fallen differently: they all add up to a devastating crush song that, despite never resolving, nonetheless sounds like a massive, necessary release. [9]

Alex Clifton: Drenched in reverb, gorgeous synths and a lovely vocal line, and feels like a beautiful dream. It sounds like the end of a movie where there's a montage of the main characters heading off into the sunset, unsure of their futures but exchanging significant looks with one another. I hope this blows up, makes it big, becomes as iconic as it sounds -- everyone needs to hear this song. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: With a sturdy and prominent drum loop, "Stay With Me" brings to mind My Bloody Valentine's "Soon" and the sped-up Zeppelin sample on Chapterhouse's "Pearl." The key difference is how Hatchie's vocals are always front and center, clear enough that each word can permeate every synth pad and twangy guitar line and snappy kick drum with a melange of hopeful desperation and knowing despair. That spacious, ever-comfortable void that her voice rests inside reveals itself to be a place of unnerving contemplation. Despite this, Hatchie convinces you that this purgatorial dream state is far more desirable than the living Hell that is life spent all alone. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The art of the fadeout is an intentionally obscure one. It's the art of making the encroachment of silence into an instrument of its own, of stretching a song's end into a beautiful eternity. "Stay With Me" has a gorgeous fade-out, ending in a heartbeat of a drumtrack as its shoe-gaze-leaning guitars depart, but it in itself feels like a fadeout, taking the dying hopes of some vaguely sketched relationship and letting them sprawl out before you. It takes a while to get going (it didn't click for me until the bridge), but it's the kind of song that deserves your patience. [7]

Alfred Soto: So THIS is the synth pop bauble that Chvrches have failed to write for six years? It stinks of the past, peeks through v-shaped fingers at the future, and in Hatchie's sweet lies ("It's so better now you're gone") an ever-present present. [8]

Joshua Copperman: The tedious, nearly bass-less first half of "Stay With Me" surprised me, especially as so many TSJ colleagues were raving about this song. The lyrics are concise without being cliché, the production is a mostly interesting mix of Madchester drums and modern dream-pop, but I'm left living someone else's nostalgia. Like Snail Mail and other, similar acts, I'm an outsider for not having the same childhood as every other music writer. That doesn't make this a bad song: Once the live drums and harmonies kick in at 2:51, it becomes difficult not to fall in love with the song. But even that is probably because it evokes my own nostalgia -- it sounds like "Wake Up," and not the "Wake Up" indie rockers used to reference. (A bit like this pre-"Radioactive" Imagine Dragons song too, which I loved when I was 15.) And I still remain locked out; the YouTube comments claim that "listening to this song feels like being in a club on ecstasy in the 90's." But really, this feels like hearing someone else remember that oft-reminisced-upon time period, reminding me once more that things were apparently better before I got here. [6]

Vikram Joseph: From sixth form through much of my twenties, I thought I didn't really like dancing; far too late, I realised I just hated having to fake it in bleak, sticky-floored provincial or university clubs, damp with straight machismo and broken dreams. These days, I can lose my shit to "Dancing On My Own" and "Make Me Feel" in queer spaces I feel safe and happy in, and that's wonderful. It stings, though, to have missed out on a kind of transcendence I feel like I should have experienced on the cusp of adulthood, and "Stay With Me" speaks directly, powerfully to that part of me. Those "Born Slippy" synths feel soft-focus and hazy like inebriated happiness itself; Hatchie's vocals in the middle eight feel like they're grasping for something intangible and impossible, chasing every lost night and doomed love into the first glow of sunrise. This is slow-motion, tear-streaked disco-ball euphoria to remind you of nights you're not quite sure belong to you or to cinema; a fever-dream summer dance anthem that makes me believe that the perfect places we have always aspired to are eminently real, flickering in spaces that our younger selves could never have imagined existed. [9]

Iris Xie: When I review songs, I repeat them in order to sink in their atmosphere and be flooded into their sentiments, because otherwise, it doesn't come clear to me. In this discovery process, I often find myself compelled to sing and ad lib along. For "Stay With Me," at 2:50, I found myself unconsciously singing the bridge when the midpoint of the kicks off into the instrumental, specifically these two lines: "If I met you in a different moment/If I met you, would I be this broken?" I kept singing these two lines over and over again as each repeat occurs, and then I realized that the bridge is the verbal personification of the instrumental, and it is the underlying sentiment that drives all the stark, urgent confessions, so naked in their desperation and knowing that it is futile and they won't be heard, but nevertheless, they must be said. This stands in contrast with the first two lines, which put on such a brave face that contains a bitter heart: "It's all better now you're gone/It's all better on my own." When you sing these lyrics over each other, the synths are so lively and comforting in this melancholy and blend together with warm guitar strums, and solid drums to illuminate these sentiments. Hatchie is in pain from having to deal with such a broken void, and the vibrant singing of the bridge contrasts with the reluctant, forlorn sentiment of the initial verse, so it actually reads: "It's all better now you're gone/If I met you in a different moment/If I met you would I be this broken/It's all better on my own." Even though Hatchie acknowledges it feels wrong, saying "stay with me" is the balm that she settles on to ease this pain of her lover's departure because she's responsible for this pain. The beautiful part about the instrumental is that it reminds me of why music, and art overall, is so deeply important: when one is able to access the space of these heartfelt emotions, and to use the tools at your disposal to create the specific weight and textures of those experiences, it also can help give shape to those who are also feeling these certain ways, and allowing them to release and transmit it. I've shied away from my own private embarrassment and shame about this exact situation for years, and have only recently started talking about it with my therapist and supportive friends, but yesterday, I allowed myself to look through old journals and communications about that relationship. In reality, I never allowed myself to feel comfortable with the endless weight of these emotions and regrets, for I never wanted to be haphazard about the textures of this experience, even in making art about it. I feared it'd only sour the reality and aggravate my anxieties about people not taking the level of pain I had seriously and mocking it. Putting myself in that impossible situation for not wanting to mar those moments, I shut it down for the past few years. But I've had to let those similar feelings wash over me in the past few months to create art and even give justice to the reviews that I want to give on TSJ and elsewhere, so now I have to acknowledge that buried sadness. I no longer feel shame about that plaintive way to express my emotions about those situations, for this song's fuzzy, warm haze of disorientation is so familiar, and now I trust myself to just go, which is what I did with this review today. I guess that's one reason why pop is so lovely -- a salve for private hearts, not ready to debut, until they are. It's clear now. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[exaltatuss]

Name: Sangria Gemini Title/s: Spear of Mortality Age: Irrelevant, appears to be physically 25, however Race: Immortal Slayer, Living Weapon Gender: Female Sexuality: Homosexual Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Classification: Immortal Slayer, Living Weapon Occupation: Traveler

Physical Characteristics

Eye Color: Silver Height: 6′2″(Human Form), 7″(Weapon Form) Weight: 62 kg(Human Form), 4 kg (Weapon Form) Complexion: Pale Hair Color: Sangria Red Bust Size: Appears to be C in human form

Mental Status

Disorders: N/A Fears: Dying Habits: Would almost always offer to spar, Grooming her hair from time to time,  Staring into open space

Interests:

Hobbies: Writing, Listening to Music, Sparring, Travelling Likes: Good fights, Delicious Food, Reading, Music Dislikes: Being misused

Personality:

Being a weapon made by both Chione and Aura, Sangria would have both their personalities, with some notable traits on being blunt, a little bit cocky, aloof, with some hints of impulsiveness. She also seems to show some hints of charisma at times.

On Chione or Aura’s hands, however, she would be very engaging in conversations with the two, and would show some hints of being caring and respectful towards them, due to the fact that they collaborated to her creation, with the former being responsible as to why she has a soul, and a human form, in the first place. But that doesn’t stop her from messing with them every now and then, just for the fun of it.

However, since all things change, she, too, would develop certain qualities and a personality she can call her own, what with having a more serious side, too, which occurred ever since Chione barely uses her anymore, and Aura with her return to form in relation to the Void.

Background:

There isn’t much to say about Sangria, other than being given life by Chione by using the Relic of Creation to give her a soul. However, by doing so, Sangria became her own individual, with Chione and Aura teaching her many things, especially since she’ll most likely do some travelling on her own, while her wielders aren’t using her. And, unsurprisingly, she was quick to learn from their teachings.

As a weapon made to be an Immortal Slayer, Sangria can be a lethal weapon against those that claim to be immortal, as her blade could re-introduce mortality over immortal beings, thus make injuries dealt to them exceptionally lethal.

Even with knowledge gained from them, Sangria still would try and gain more knowledge on her own, and whenever her wielders aren’t using her. And thus, she would be travelling around, all with the goal to learn and acquire more knowledge. Well, having a human form requires her to act like a human, after all.

In summary, Sangria was originally made as a testament of Chione and Aura's bond, that despite them being both the same person, technically, they treat each other as twins, hence the Gemini surname attached to Sangria. Given the gift of free will, but not quite, since she can still be given orders by her creators when needed.

However, changes happen, people change, and the same goes for her creators, to which then, in technicality,  the significance of her creation faded, what with Chione barely using her anymore, while Aura uses her still from time to time. While this wasn’t supposed to be an issue, the Indifference rather forces her to her bidding, which then makes things... complicated this time between her and Aura, herself.

Hence, even she, herself, started changing, too, outside the spectrum she had acquired as hereditary traits from her creators, contributed both by her travels, and the changes around her.

Powers and Abilities

Whether in human form, or weapon form, she can absorb a piece of an individual’s power, the power of an individual she had allowed to wield her, if there are any pre-existing abilities they had that’s of use, which in turn, would give her several bonuses, depending on what kind of fragment of power she had acquired. 

The bonuses, however, wouldn’t be an exact copy of what she had acquired, but a different variant.

However, in time, said ability would further improve, what with the bonuses being a close facsimile to the genuine article, too.

Still, even if she has this kind of ability in which she learns abilities from others, she, too, would also have abilities of her own, what with being able to inflict wounds that either slows down, or completely negates regeneration, depending on the individual’s regeneration strength and speed, and at the same time, said injury from Sangria, herself, would worsen and enlarge themselves, over time, as well.

Strikes from her spear form’s blade usually ignores almost every conventional form of defense or augmentation, as well.

However, along with such power, there’d also be several notable weaknesses.

While she’s also powerful and extremely durable, There are things that can harm and/or kill her, still. These are Outer Gods, and other weapons that have the same properties as her, or similar to hers.

While she can also slay Gods, attacks and retaliations from them would still be felt by her, but not as hard as what the Outer Gods can dish out.

For Sangria, there are two forms of ‘deaths’.

One is the temporary death of consciousness, and the other, a genuine, permanent death.

Killing her human form's body just puts her in a coma. She'd be on her weapon form, but during her coma, that's just what she is. A weapon. Still has the same properties as before, but not consciously alive.

To 'kill' her, while she's at her weapon form, however, would then be akin to killing her off permanently.

Note/s:

*During her travels, Sangria also became a temporary stand-in to several known spears, such as the spear Gungnir, which was the signature spear of Odin, and also a certain spear belonging to a Celtic Hero that never fail to pierce through the heart. Hence, sometimes, whenever she feels like it, she would introduce herself as any of the spears she had masqueraded as during her travels.

*When in combat in her human form, she uses a fragment of her own spear form as her weapon.

[reyloday]

Enchanted

Pairing: Rey/Kylo Ren Rating: T Word Count: 2,012 Additional Tags: Canonverse, Episode IX, Naboo, First Kiss, “Platonic” Getaways Summary: He was here with her, had joined her on Naboo after almost a year of physical separation. Rey knew she shouldn’t want him close, crave his affection like she does, but their connection was something beyond all logic. Beyond what either of them could understand. [Or, in which Rey and Ben have some alone time on Naboo]

Read on AO3

Naboo was unlike other place Rey had been to her entire life, though that list was entirely too short for her liking. She didn’t know much of the place, but by looks alone she fell completely and utterly in love with it. It wasn’t even just the greenery or the flowers or the air that led her to this conclusion—it was just the general aura of the place, how it felt compared to every other planet she’d been to in the entire galaxy.

Ben tried to act like he didn’t notice, but she knew him better than anyone else, perhaps himself sometimes. His indifference didn’t work on her, even if it seemed that he couldn’t think in anything but extremes. When broached about the topic, though, he just shrugged her off and any association with the place. Rey could sense something, though, some kind of connection that Ben hadn’t willingly given up yet. She’d get it out of him eventually, even if that would take a bit of prying..

Of all the things Rey liked about Naboo’s physical beauty, the stars were most definitely near the very top of the list. They shined in the sky, a contrast like no other in the galaxy, completely incomparable. That was the reason she spent most of her time out here now, on a balcony of some sort in different positions on the estate they were staying on.

This time Rey occupied one connected to a bedroom, perfectly overlooking the gardens. She sat on the edge of the balcony several meters up from the ground and just allowed herself to embrace the faintest chill in the air. One ill-timed fall and it could be over for the last Jedi in the galaxy. Not the exciting death anyone in the galaxy would have expected.

It had been a few days since Rey had left the Resistance, feigning urgent “Jedi missions” to keep everyone from asking questions, but Leia knew. She always knew, yet she never tried to stop her, probably knowing that nothing could stop Rey from seeing her son, not even the constraints of time and space.

“Rey?”

His voice should’ve startled her, but it didn’t. She could feel it now, felt his presence and mind like it was an extension of her own. It was one of the other reasons she loved it here more than anything: him.

“I made you tea.”

He was here with her, had joined her on Naboo after almost a year of physical separation. Rey knew she shouldn’t want him close, crave his affection like she does, but their connection was something beyond all logic. Beyond what either of them could understand.

Ben sat down a respectable distance from her on the edge of the balcony and put the steaming mug between them. There was another mug in his own hand, which he sipped gingerly as they stared out into the horizon.

She took the mug and pressed her hand into the heat as she sipped it. “It’s good. What is it?”

“Chandrilan. My mother made it for me when she could. It helped me sleep. Probably the reason she made it, honestly.”

Rey took another sip before setting it back down between them. “Were you a crazy kid?”

A shrug. “Not really. I was pretty quiet, honestly, but I guess I was just hard to deal with. You know, with the Force and all that.”

“I can’t imagine having to deal with the Force as a child. It must’ve been insane.”

“It was okay. Didn’t help that my dad didn’t really understand it, but there were worse things, I’m sure.” He took another sip of his tea, more like a swig actually, and Rey had a feeling he was wishing for something stronger. “But you know, it’s not like I’m totally messed up or anything now so surely I was fine.”

The statement made Rey laugh despite how she tried to stop herself. “We’re… both messed up in our own right. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ben.”

He nodded, ducking his head, but Rey could see the slight smile on his lips. “Right.”

She hummed and took another sip of her tea, enjoying the comfortable silence surrounding them. It had been like this for the days they’d been on Naboo. They were at ease with each other, unlike the last time they saw each other in person. Sure, their bond had given them time together, but it was different. Rey didn’t like the abrupt entrances, and, even more, she didn’t like it when he left.

Together they’d explored most the estate, from the dining room to the furthest point in the garden, but Rey found herself enjoying the lounge more than anything. That was where they ended up most nights, his head on her lap in front of the fire as they just sat and existed in the blank canvas of the world. There they weren’t the last Jedi and the Supreme Leader. There they were just two people who realized that they never wanted to be apart again.

“The stars sure are beautiful tonight,” Ben said next to her, eyes on the sky and the expansive terrain of the galaxy just in front of them. It was there they both had to be somebody, thrust into duties of conflicting interests. “I can imagine that’s why my grandmother loved it here so much.”

Rey glanced over at him. “Grandmother?”

“She owned this estate many years ago, practically considered a deity on this planet, actually.”

“Padmé Amidala.” She’d seen the portraits of the woman in the hall but hadn’t made the connection to Ben at all. Of course…

He nodded. “My grandparents fell in love here. Nobody really knows that except for me and some of the older staff here. Her association with Anakin Skywalker was a fairly well-kept secret, and after a while it didn’t even matter.”

“How did she die?”

“My grandfather killed her.” It sounded almost nonchalant, but not quite. Rey fell completely silent at the words, not daring to look over at him. “It was after… he turned. It’s not a fun story, so I’ll spare you the details.”

So that was the story behind it all. That was why Ben walked around here like he was in a daze, why his eyes lingered on the simplest of things, why he seemed at peace even in the turmoil going on around them.

In an effort to break the silence stretching on, Rey spoke. “Sometimes on Jakku I’d sit out a night and stare at the sky and just wonder if there was any point in me existing if there was so many other people, so many other places. I didn’t understand then.”

He looked over at her, hand pressed into the stone of the balcony. It was during times like these that she noticed just how young he looked but how tired as well. The man had seen things no one his age should have, no one any age should have, but yet he was here, and he was beautiful and strong, and he was going to show anyone who ever doubted him.

“Do you now?”

She nodded once. “I think I do, better at least. I’ve never really had a purpose outside of scavenging. I’m not some Jedi hero or some Resistance princess. I’m not this ethereal being that everyone seems to have an image of, but at least I do have an image now. I have a purpose now.”

“You do. We all have purposes. It just takes some people longer to find theirs. Life isn’t clear cut and simple. It sometimes take some messing with to get right.”

Rey took her mug into her hand and lifted it to her lips to take a sip before setting it down. “Indeed, Ben, I think you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

She reached across and shoved him lightly, something he could’ve easily stopped if he wanted to. “Shut your damn mouth.”

Eyes narrowed, Ben leaned toward her, a smirk playing on his lips. Rey loved when he got like this, when he dropped his serious persona and just let  himself fall victim to childish games. It was a refreshing glimpse of who he was before maybe after this war hardened him, after Snoke got to him. “Make me.”

“I would, but we both know that would never work, so I don’t see the point in trying. Do you?”

“You might want to rethink your technique.”

Gods, he was so close now. Rey couldn’t hide the heat rising to her cheeks at his face mere inches from hers. She couldn’t stop herself from looking him up and down and letting her eyes settle on his lips. Those lips. There weren’t many nights she didn’t think of them now, doing things that she could never voice aloud.

Rey opened her mouth to try and speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Ben fell silent as well, breathing even halting as his eyes bore into hers. Usually she was able to read them, tell what he was thinking and feeling immediately, but there was nothing but one strange look.

It was like they were stuck in time and space, the universe gluing them to their place. Rey couldn’t find it in herself to move away, naturally gravitating forward. Her lip quivered as fear pierced her heart, the thought of rejection once more as she finally allowed herself to grow close again.

Except that feeling never came, not even as their lips met for the very first time.

Rey couldn’t recall who initiated it, but in hindsight it didn’t really matter. The only thing that was important now was the way his lips felt against her, how soft and pliant they were. It was painstakingly slow but time seemed to speed up all the same. Somehow, somewhere, this would’ve been more simple, wouldn’t have had to have an entire galaxy tearing them apart.

“Ben,” she whispered after a moment, pulling away just barely to the point their noses brushed.

Even if Rey had just barely pulled away, Ben completely straightened up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Ben—”

“No, don’t say anything. I know you don’t feel for me in that way. You don’t have to confirm what I already know to be true.”

This man. Without giving him a chance to say another word, Rey grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him down to kiss her this time. It was sloppy, rough, unpracticed, but it was worth it to feel him again, feel the perfection of his lips on hers.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away again, breathing heavily as he stared at her. Rey could feel the blush crawling to her cheeks, but the lighting was dim enough that she doubted he could see even if he tried. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly? No.” Ben let out a loose breath before turning to her. “Will you do that again?”

“So romantic,” she muttered under her breath right before their lips met again.

This time he didn’t pull away. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but his lips slotted so perfectly with hers somehow, and Rey found herself never ever wanting to let go of him again. “Gods help me,” she mumbled against him.

Ben choked sat his hand down to keep himself from falling—right on Rey’s tea. Even as the mug fell to the ground and shattered, Ben’s swearing breaking the silence between them, Rey could feel it:

Peace.

The feeling didn’t escape her as Ben wiped the hot tea off his hand or they found their way into the lounge they’d taken a particular liking to. It didn’t escape her as he pressed her into the chaise and felt the warmth of his body against hers. It didn’t escape her as Ben found his way into her side, allowing Rey to hold him until the sun rose again.

For now, it was just them and Naboo, the stars and the galaxy. A war—physical and mental—temporarily forgotten for the utter transcendence of peace.

[mafiabosstsuna]

I'm addicted to your blog, can you write about tsuna , mukuro and hibari's reaction when they had vongola torture their s/o for info because they thought s/o is a spy that is giving another famiglia infos about vongola , but turns out the spy was someone else

COMPLETE

admin adelheid

Tsuna

“Jyuudaime,” Tsuna remained where he was,standing in front of Giotto’s portrait as he held the engagement ring he hadwanted to give you tonight on your fifth anniversary in his fingers. “They’reready. Your orders?”

He had to do it. He had no other choice.

One of his men had his sixteen year olddaughter raped and blinded; she’ll never be the same again.

One had even had his parents dismemberedand their pieces hung in their family home. No one has heard him speak since.

Another of his men had now lost his mindalongside his dead wife who had been pregnant with their child. Shot in thehead after being tortured into losing the baby. He didn’t even know she waspregnant.

All three of them now surrounded him.Eyeing him expectantly, their eyes begging him to give them their justice.

All because you had leaked Vongola’ssecrets to an enemy. An enemy whose days were now about to end.

Tsuna turned away from the portrait and satdown on the chair facing his three victimized subordinates and the rest of the highranking members of the Vongola’s inner council. All his Guardians were theretoo.

Gokudera looked angrier than usual.Yamamoto kept throwing him concerned glances. Mukuro had his arms crossed andglaring at him while although Hibari seemed cool his eyes flashed inirritation. Ryohei was restless, he could barely stand still. Lambo wassurprisingly awake, tiny flashes of lightning running back and forth from hiseyes and his hair in his angry frustration and Chrome could barely hidethe fact that she wanted to cry behind her mask of neutrality.

Even the individual portraits of Giotto’sGuardians seem to be eyeing the assembly with disapproval.

None of his Guardians wanted this but theFamiglia was everything. The Famiglia wanted blood. The Famiglia came first.

And Tsuna was the one they expected todeliver. “Do it.”

He barely heard his right hand man give thequiet affirmative through his earpiece.

And then the screaming started.

Tsuna resolved to remain stoic the entiretime. It was a testament to Reborn’s training that his face didn’t even twitchwhen he heard you scream his name. He was well aware what kind of torture youwere going through right now, it had been a part of his training, after all. Hehad undergone some of them himself from the few times he had fucked up andended up weakened enough to be taken prisoner back when he was still a wetbehind the ears fool.

The hot pokers. The knives through thehand. The flaying… He had seen it all.

The members of the Vongola’s inner councilwere all indifferent, as indifferent looking as their Boss himself. But the manthat had gone insane laughed a few times quite maniacally as he demanded moreblood from you, more screaming even as tears dribbled down his chin. The manwhose parents had been murdered flinched and twitched in his seat a few timeswhile the man whose daughter was raped stared at the carpet; the skin aroundhis mouth and the knuckles on his fists white.

Tsuna’s face remained unruffled and solemn.Like an undisturbed surface of a pool as your pained cries and begging anddenials echoed throughout the sealed chamber that was the Vongola’s portraitroom.

Suddenly there was a commotion out in the halls.

Tsuna didn’t move even though everyone elsewas turned towards the doors and the noise beyond it. It was as though he were in another world whereno one could ever touch him.

Suddenly the doors were flung open. A halfburned man came in with a handgun wrestled from one of the shocked guardsoutside. The smell of his burnt flesh and the gasoline used to accelerate it pungent inthe closed space. It made several of the occupant’s gag but this man remainedunbothered. His now deformed eyes furiously turned with murderous intent on theman whose parents had been dismembered.

“MOTHER FUCKER! TRAITOR! BOSS, LET ME KILLHIM! HE HAD OUR PARENTS KILLED JUST TO COVER UP HIS LIES! HE FUCKING TRIED TO BURN ME ALIVE WHEN I FOUND OUT ABOUT HIS PLANS! HE’S THE SPY!!!”

And then there was pandemonium and everythingwent to hell.

Gokudera screaming into his earpiece tostop your torture, Ryohei running out of the room to where you are, Chromecalling for other Sun users and medics to attend to this burned man and the remainingGuardians, fire and ice blazing in their eyes stalking towards the accused man who wasnow backing away from them all in terror. He knew he was not going to dieeasily.

The Vongola’s inner circle members allstarted muttering nervously, their indifferent facades breaking into a stringof unintelligible mumbles as they all shot their Decimo fearful looks.

But Tsuna merely rose from his seat, regalas a king; calm as spring rain. He walked out of the room without even glancing backat the people left in it. Everyone he met along the winding corridor towards hisroom bowed their heads to him but he did not even acknowledge their existence.As soon as he reached the bedroom that still held your clothes, your scent andthe remainder of your essence, he locked the door behind him.

And then he fell on his knees, curled up onthe floor sobbing into the hands that still cradled your engagement ring.

Mukuro

“Mukuro-sama, please―”

“No!”

“I’m begging you, please! Just give me alittle more time! I know she’sinnocent; give me a chance to prove it!”

He turned back to Chrome with anincredulous expression on his face before he sneered. “Are you out of yourmind, Nagi?! Even after we’ve seen the evidence?! Her entire squad gave her away!”

“They’re lying! Please! Hibari-san isinvestigating this himself. Just a little while longer!”

Mukuro laughed sadistically and patted hisformer protégé fondly on the head despite her desperate countenance. “My cuteChrome, have you forgotten that I am a master of lies? I think I would be morethan be able to tell if she’s lying to me or not.”

Frustrated, Chrome grabbed onto Mukuro’sshirt and looked into his eyes angrily. “You’re blinded! You care about her! That’swhy you’re so ready to think the worst of her! You’ve always been like this! The more you care about people the more youpush them away!”

“Enough.”He replied through gritted teeth as their eyes met in a battle of wills. “It’stoo late, I have already surrendered her to the interrogators yesterday theyshould be done with her by now if they know what they’re doing. What is done isdone. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Not from God, not from anyone andespecially not from you.”

Mukuro left Chrome in the corridor, ignoringher calls as he stormed into the room where they held you down. It wasn’t justChrome, though. In the past few days when your loyalty had started to come intoquestion the Guardians had been torn about the entire discovery of yourduplicity. This was not the first fight he had with his female counterpartabout the matter. And although no one else said anything Mukuro had noticedthem all walk on eggshells around him.

Ridiculous. Did they really think he was soattached that his judgment would be impaired by his feelings for you? Mukuro wasused to be the liar not the one beinglied to. And you having managed suchan atrocity was a professional blow to him. He ignored the part of his soulthat was burning in agony at the thought of you in pain.

He entered the basement that doubled as adungeon. The dark, metallic scented stains on the wall a litany to the longhistory of suffering this place has borne witness to. He was allowed in theroom you were being kept in without anyone batting an eyelash.

“Mukuro-sama! Forgive us. We didn’t knowyou were coming!”

Mukuro ignored the man and looked down atyou, your body torn and battered and barely even breathing. But when you heardhis voice you did your best to look up and meet his eyes. Mukuro was treated toyour swollen face and your broken teeth. His mind almost exploded from the fury even as he fought the sting that suddenlyfilmed his eyes.

How dareyou look up at him with such confusion in your gaze? How dare you look so beautiful despite all this blood? How dare you still wear his ring? How dare his heart clench at the sight ofyou?

“What has she told you?”

“Nothing, sir,” one of the people in chargeof your ‘questioning’ replied, uneasy at the sparking emotions in the male MistGuardian’s eyes. Everybody knew enough to know not to cross Rokudo Mukuro whenhe was like this. Most people knewnot to approach him at all. “Shedenied everything. She’s… very well trained.”

“Leave us.”

He didn’t even bother to look as one by onethe Vongola’s interrogators left the room. Mukuro couldn’t help but snort atthe incompetency of these fools. He had offered to interrogate her himself butTsunayoshi refused, telling him he was too close to the matter. Mukuro thoughtit was ridiculous. Tsunayoshi was just being kind. But he never had anykindness to spare for the people who betray him.

“I don’t really care about the crimes you’reaccused of,” he began, his voice smooth and hard like a sharp, temperedknife. “I don’t care how many people you’ve killed or how many rules you’vebroken.”

You tried to open your mouth but they musthave damaged your throat. All that made it out of your mouth was a high pitchedstring of sound.

Mukuro’s eyes were pitiless as he kept onmeeting your eyes. “But you made me believe you loved me and because of that I gave you all of me. You made me live my own delusions all this time. I wasactually foolish enough to think we could have a family. I believed you,damn it! For that, I will neverforgive you.”

You tried to move your broken arms,reaching for his shoes as though wanting to beg and make him listen. Tears mixingwith the blood on your face as though comforting him in his hour of pain. Asthough still trying to make him believe your lies. It was more than Mukurocould bear. All he wanted to do was pick you up and keep you safe. He wanted to hold you close and run away with you.

How could he still be so in love with you?

“Make her talk. Do everything you can to makeher tell you who else has betrayed us to the enemy!” he ordered to the startledmen who had been waiting outside.

Blindly he fled from the room, casting anillusion on himself to make himself invisible. He didn’t care if he bumped intoanyone else along the way leaving people confused and frightened left andright. Rushing he went straight into the closest men’s room he could find andlost all strength in front of the mirror as he leaned on a sink. As soon as he saw his reflection hebegan to laugh through his sobs.

It seems Tsunayoshi was right all along.Since when did the little Decimo know him better than he knew himself?

Suddenly the men’s room opened and in camethree men Mukuro had recognized all too well. They were members of your squad.They made it passed him straight to the urinals without acknowledging hispresence reminding Mukuro that he was still invisible.

“I heard Mukuro gave her up yesterday.”

“Serves her right,” one of them, yoursecond-in-command answered as they did their business. “She almost found out we were the ones selling all that infoaway.”

“Shhh! Are you out of your mind?! What if someone heard?!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still, I would have loved tosee her face one more time just to see what expression she’d make if shefound out the info we keep selling are the ones we keep on overhearing her talkabout with Mukuro over the phone. Talk about a pair of total idiots.”

Mukuro was in too much of a shock to move.Even after they left his legs had turned into too much jelly to follow them.His will had weakened so much he let go of the illusion around himself.

He remembered your face just now. All theblood, all the tears, all the broken bones. He remembered the sound you madewhile he spoke to you so coldly. Worst of all he remembered the words that hehad spat at your head and the fact that he had ordered people to deal you more pain.

His insides turned into water as he threwup in the lavatory sink.

Hibari

“Are you sure you want to be here for this, Hibari?”

Kyoya said nothing. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak and noone in the room could even tell if he was even breathing. He merely staredright back at you as you sat clamped on that chair with the wires connected tothe switch which would be the source of your suffering.

The room he and Tsuna were in and the room where you werebeing kept was divided by a glass wall and afforded you a chance to see eachother. It was like a gruesome parody of a play’s front row seat.

You stared right back at him. He could see the finetrembling of your hands you were trying so desperately to hide even through theglass. He could see the faint traces of fear in your gaze. He could almost tastethe guilt in your breath. He had always known you like the back of his hand…

Or at least that was what he thought.

Until the evidence he had gathered himself about thesecurity leak in the Vongola led him to you.

All the deaths, all the money and territory that theGuardians were now sent out to regain were lost under his watch. Because he couldn’t keep himself from loving a traitor…

His clenched hands twitched at the memory and his minddesperately called for calm. Anger and betrayal swelled in his chest until itthreatened to choke him. His pride lay tattered on the ground and you were theone who stepped on it and made it bleed.His eyes flashed violently and it even grew colder as your gaze broke under theindifferent violence of his gaze and your eyes settled on his feet. A further sign of your guilt.

“Hibari?” Tsuna called again.

The Don had not met his Cloud’s eyes since he entered theroom. Hibari had known the brunette long enough to understand that he wouldrather have kept you as bait to lure out all the other rats and be patient but Kyoyahad been too wounded, too hurt, too disgustedby the idea that he had been sleeping with the enemy. It was not in his natureto lie. He was not the damnPineapple-head. And you were not justanother woman he was keeping around just to sleep with. He had wanted to marry you, damn it. He had harbored youand your younger brother under his own roof and taken you away from poverty. Hehad never thought for even a second that you would betray him. He had given hisentire self into your keeping and you gifted him with your false loyalty. You had thetemerity to pretend that you loved him. Even now, as you sat therefacing the judging eyes of his Family you still had the gall to wear his ring.

And the sight of it felt like claws digging into his heart.

“Why is that thingstill wearing that?” he asked coldly, fury thick in the hoarse growl replacing hisusually smooth monotone. His voice ruined by breaking his own rule of notoverly imbibing any alcoholic beverage to the point of losing his self-control.

“It was the only thing she refused to take off, Kyo-san,”Kusakabe answered quietly, bowing behind his Boss. “She said we would have tocut her finger off before she surrendered it.”

Kyoya sneered even as his eyes stung at the memory of yourpromise the night he gave you that ring.

That you would never take it off until the day you died.

Only the truly brave would have noted out loud how the CloudGuardian’s lips trembled or how his eyes shone brighter with the sheen ofunshed tears. He hated this. He was no longer in control.

He can’t do this anymore.

“Begin.” Kyoya commanded harshly.

Tsuna nodded slowly at his side and reluctantly flicked hisfingers towards the interrogators with the casual ease of a man who was used todispensing immense power.

One of them obediently nodded and flipped the seeminglyinnocent looking switch.

And then your screaming started.

Your torturers were professionals, of course. They knew justwhen to stop the electrical current flowing through your body just before youlost consciousness. Each time they stopped they cajoled you. They threatenedyou. They verbally defecated you.

And all the while Kyoya stood beside Tsuna looking asoutwardly calm as his Boss as he watched drool pour out of your mouth. As youreyes rolled towards the back of your head and your body tear itself up inagony. He kept a neutral face even as each scream tore at him like a storm ofknives.

Through your pain he was reminded by a distant memory. Apromise he made to you when he was still trying to convince you to be his.

That he would never allow you to be hurt by anything. Noteven by his own hand.

His sense of honor screamed in agony with you.

He could hear the accusations and the demands from your torturers.

It lasted for hours.

But you said nothing. Admitted nothing. Denied nothing.

All you did was scream.

And seeing you in agony was more than Kyoya could take.

As your electrocution was stopped so as to give your torturers another opportunity to pepper you againwith questions, the door to the room was suddenly opened and both Kyoya andTsuna looked at the new arrival with studied expressions of disinterest.

Until the man threw a familiar young man at Kyoya’s feet.

“Dino,” Tsuna frowned at his older brother figure and the halfdead young man on the floor. “What is this?”

“You were looking for a traitor right?” Dino replied, hisgrim eyes taking on your battered form still clamped by wires on the other side of the glass. Drool dripping from your mouth and eyes already on the edge ofmadness. “I thought there was something fishy about the way her brother wasgoing around chumming with a group of boys his age who were notorious for committingpetty crimes last time I came to visit. I had him followed for a few days now. Looks like his buddieswere using him to steal information from you, Kyoya. He didn’t even know whathe was doing. Apparently when he found out his sister was taken away for being thespy he put two and two together and he confronted them himself to get them to turn themselves in and savehis sister. When I got to him he was already beaten up bloody.”

“Does this mean she knew? The reason she’s not talking is because she was protecting her brother?” Tsuna frowned at Dino’s nod and his eyes gleamed in the dim room. “You sure, Dino?”

Dino nodded grimly and pursed his lips in regret as he looked back at the shell of the person Kyoya loved so very much. “I’m sorry. I’m too late.”

A cold numbness spread through Kyoya’s entire body. Itrushed and froze his blood from the tips of his fingers to the back of his headas a violent mix of fury, hate, fear, guilt and madness threatened to consumehis soul.

He barely registered Tsuna ordering you and your younger brotherbe attended by a medical team immediately, the Cloud Guardian couldn’t evenmake himself look at your battered self. He was afraid. For the first time in a long time he feared looking back and face what may just be his biggest regret.

Both Tsuna and Dino could only resign themselves when theysaw the crazed look in the eyes of the Cerberus of Namimori.

“Who?” the Cloud-user snarled coldly, practically frothingat the mouth.

Dino told him the Famiglia’s name and Kyoya strode out,Kusakabe already handing him his tonfas with a bowed head and violentlygleaming eyes.

“Kyoya,” Tsuna had to ask. He needed to know where he wasgoing to send people to clean after his Cloud Guardian later, after all. “Whatare you planning to do?”

The maniacal grin on Hibari Kyoya’s face would haunt thenightmares of many after that day as he gave his Don an answer.

“To war.”

[revjasielhern-blog]

“Contrasting Expectations” Palm Sunday 2019

Scripture Text: Luke 19:28-40

[this is a transition from the skit. It continues to narrate the events of Palm Sunday from the perspective of one of the disciples] 

I can see the last tiny bit of light coming from the west reflecting on each other faces as we gather outside the house where we will be having supper. I take a deep breath and realize how the serenity of night has finally arrived. Then, I say to myself - how the huge crowd that came to Jerusalem today to celebrate the great passover for the next couple of days have finally gone inside where they are staying tonight, so there’s seems to be this weird feeling of emptiness roaming on the streets. Maybe it’s just me... Or maybe it’s the fact that we were surrounded by many people since this morning; we went to the temple where it was so loud and where we had a big argument; and throughout the day people kept coming to us to ask for things and we had to constantly say no... As I sit down on the floor in the upper room of the house to have a meal, I take a look around and realize the irony of this moment. The contrast between being among many strangers, experiencing loud noises, and walking pushing and pulling to being sitting among friends, experiencing some peacefulness, and simply sitting having bread and wine make this day quite ironical indeed... 

In art and photography, contrast is considered by many to be the golden rule for creation. Contrast is the juxtaposition of difference; it is used to intensify the properties within the work so that a rhythm or focus may come into existence. This technique is employed to catch your eye and move your attention to what the artist really wants you to see. 

Vincent Van Gogh is one of the most famous painters who employed this technique. Most of his art combines various colors that compliment each other, but the focal point was usually created with colors that contrasted the rest of the work. In the painting “The Starry Night”, what is the thing that you remember the most? Aren’t the bright yellow stars and generous moon that reside within the wavy architecture of the sky? 

That bright yellow contrasts the dark black and opaque blue that overwhelm the overall painting. That bright yellow is the focal point of such master-piece. 

It is only through contrast that we are able to see the things that would otherwise be invisible to our eyes. 

But contrast can be employed beyond art and photography. We also encounter this technique in writing. And the apostle Luke knows very well how to use it. At the beginning of Luke’s passion narrative, we read of a triumphal entrance into the city of Jerusalem that resembles a story that took place on a “starry night” 33 years before. What makes this triumphal entry similar to the night in which Jesus was born is how each story is a contrast of the other. 

Instead of shepherds taking care of their sheep, we read of a colt taking care of its master - helping him walk among the crowd in the busy streets of Jerusalem. Instead of a multitude of angels praising God in the skies, we read of a multitude of disciples praising God joyfully as they walk next to Jesus. Instead of proclaiming; “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among all people”, read of a crowd proclaiming: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!”. Instead of joyful shepherds running through the fields spreading such good news, we read of angry pharisees trying to silent the hosannas of the crowd. 

The apostle Luke knows very well how to implement this technique of contrast in his writing. Both narratives powerfully contrast each other. And the parts that offer such contrast point our attention to one thing in particular: in this passion narrative it is people on earth who joyfully participate in such triumphal event. It is not heaven. Heaven does not celebrate this triumphal entrance. 

The heavens have nothing to celebrate for... 

This is what Luke wants you to concentrate your attention on: The whole celestial kingdom remains quiet as Jesus enters Jerusalem. The heavens know what is about to take place - a suffering that is beyond our imagination. The heavens know that Jesus is about to be betrayed, not only by one, but by all of his disciples. The heavens know that the same crowd who is now proclaiming “Hosanna; save us; glory to God” is the 

same crowd that a few days later will be ferociously yelling “we want Barabbas instead; crucify him”. 

How can the heavens celebrate such contrasting moment? How can the heavens reconcile these “hosannas” with “crucify him”? 

But, the truth is, we are part of that crowd. We are part of those who proclaim: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!” And yet, we are also part of the crowd that deny the fact that we know Jesus. We ignore and reject any form of relationship with our Savior. We become part of the crowd that yells: “crucify him”. 

Dr. Amy-Jill Levine writes in her book Entering the Passion of Jesus, that we are indeed part of that crowd: we want political reform; we want a meek king; we want compassion rather than conquest; we want to welcome everyone in our churches; we want a balanced budget, affordable health care, clean water, peaceful streets and borders, good jobs and debt-free education, lower taxes and equal opportunities for all people... 

We want all those things. We ask God for all those things. We lift our palm branches and lay down our coats as a symbol of surrender to God and God’s power. 

Yet, we continue to choose war over peace. We continue to act unwelcoming towards those who look and talk different from us. We continue to raise prices on medications and hospital fees. We continue to pollute our rivers and seas. We continue to act with hatred and take action with our own hands. We continue to embrace richness and power. We continue to raise college fees and not pay teachers enough. 

We want a political reform. We want change. We want a better life. We want God to lead us and transform us. But our actions say otherwise. We want one thing, but we do the complete opposite. 

This tension between such contrasting expectations is not completely our fault. The space between the change that we want and the actions that we take is long and extensive. It is in this space and because of time that we become weary, tired, and 

indifferent. Look at young kids or tennegers. They tend to have high expectations about how they are going to change the world. They want to fix issues in various creative ways. They have joy and a drive. 

But as they grow older, they realize how difficult it is to actually generate change. They become adults and abandon such hopes and expectations. Instead, they focus on personal finances, health, educations, food, on and on... 

We forsake our joyful Hosannas not because we are evil, but because we become weary and afraid. 

How can we remain faithful to these hopes and expectations that we lift to God? 

That is what the apostle Luke is pointing our attention to: How can we remain faithful to the hosannas we once proclaimed even if the crowd now says “crucify him”? 

Remaining faithful to our calling as Christians becomes difficult when the world turns its back on the promises that God once gave to us. But we cannot forget such promises - of peace, equality, joy, health, comfortable living, and hope. 

As we welcome Jesus this morning into Jerusalem and into our hearts, let us hold on to the hopes that we have in Jesus Christ and let us above all things remain faithful to the one who is willing to enter a city to face death for our sake. 

Amen.