#but i think the lie he tried to save father trapped him even more in frustration

[cienie-isengardu]

Bi-Han rolled a -100 for intelligence in that scene when he outright told Kuai he let their dad die.

Bi-Han underestimated Kuai's loyalty to him because he must've really thought bragging how cool it was he let their dad die was gonna make his brother revere him. It's surprising given Kuai made it clear he loved their dad and Bi-Han somehow thought admitting he let him die would make his loyalty to him absolute.

I don’t think Bi-Han telling Kuai Liang the truth about their father’s death has anything to do with intelligence or desire to brag.

For me, that scene was Bi-Han’s frustration at its breaking point - the story mode did not present us much of Lin Kuei brothers interaction but even within the limited space it showed that Bi-Han couldn't do anything, not even just complain for waiting who knows how long without Tomas and Kuai Liang constantly talking about their Father and what the man would want from them. And yes, complaining may be inappropriate, even childish for Grandmaster to do, but for all we know Bi-Han just wanted to vent in frustration to his brothers in the privacy only to be frustrated even more by them bringing father into discussion.

And this pattern is repeated during their mission. Whatever Bi-Han will say, be it a remark about glory (a trivial detail) or wish for breaking from the past, Tomas and Kuai Liang will again and again either bring up tradition or talk about what their father would do.

Sub-Zero let their father die for what he thought was Lin Kuei’s best interest and in theory he should be finally free from the man’s influences. Including man’s teaching Bi-Han considered part of the reason why Lin Kuei was shackled and bound to unfair servitude.

Instead, even more than before everything revolved around the dead man to the point Sub-Zero outright asked if their father’s ghost possessed Kuai Liang (and Tomas?).

Because apparently his brothers didn’t have anything on their own to add into discussion - and frankly, they did not provide any real counterargument why Lin Kuei should stick to the centuries-old servitude to Earthrealm that didn’t come down to “tradition” and “father said so” - two things that Bi-Han already was in process or rejecting.

And then, when Bi-Han finally made his mind about allying with Shang Tsung what Kuai Liang did? Of course he talked about father

and I think this was the one too many mentions of father, the proverbial last straw that broke the camel's back. Telling the truth was not part of any great scheme, it wasn’t even about Kuai Liang itself, but it was a moment of catharsis for Bi-Han alone. 

We don’t have an idea when the previous Grandmaster died - Bi-Han could lie to his brothers about that accident for days, weeks, months or even years. The act of letting father die and lying about that burdened him, maybe even trapped more than he was before and Shang Tsung’s offer provided him both an occasion to cut off Lin Kuei ties with Liu Kang and finally to admit what he had done. The catharsis though doesn’t come from the act of admitting committed crime, because Bi-Han had no regrets about that at this point, but because he was so done with lying for Kuai Liang’s comfort and peace of mind...

...all so his younger brother could be safely tucked in his delusion about Lin Kuei’s honorable traditions; that Bi-Han if not loved then at least missed and grieved after their father as he and Tomas did; that they all were the happy family - still family - when Bi-Han’s wish for change overshadowed his sentiments for parent long ago.

I think that scene is just the breaking point of Bi-Han’s frustration - a frustration we were both told by Scorpion (“I knew Bi-Han's frustrations ran deep. But I never thought they could inspire such madness”) and showed in interaction between brothers preceding Sub-Zero’s betrayal. I doubt Bi-Han even planned to tell Kuai Liang truth, especially at this moment, but my guess is he just couldn’t take anymore hearing only father this, father that, again and again and again. Every person has a breaking point and I suspect the last Scorpion’s remark about father and how he would turn in his grave - especially this one about his death - is what made Bi-Han to spill out the truth straight into Kuai Liang’s face, cutting deep with the remark I lied because you couldn’t and still can see the truth.

It was no planned and probably the most sincere Bi-Han’s moment, because finally he was speaking his mind bluntly, finally escaping the trap of a lie he told Kuai Liang and Tomas to spare them from the brutal truth, but a trap that turned against him, because his brothers holded even more stubbornly to tradition and father’s teaching. Only unconsciously increasing Bi-Han’s frustration. 

Did Bi-Han believe that Kuai Liang and Tomas would support his claims? It sounds like a foolish assumption on his part, but I guess he still wanted his brothers on his side (even if the man has a problem with communicating that, I think?). Definitely wanted them more than he cared for father. And well, if Kuai Liang did not bring father in that moment, who knows, maybe Bi-Han would kept the lie alive for much longer?

[sayyourprayers]

Why Will's resentment of El is not an in-show theme:

Diorama scene

Scene begins with El completely clueless about the school dynamics - eg. waving hi to someone who dgaf. She knows she isn't having a great time (hence lying to Mike) but at the same time she feels like THIS IS THE DAY when everything will change. Bruh if you haven't gotten the memo till a day before spring break maybe Hopper didn't call you stupid enough.

Talking about Hopper - presumed dead - presumed hawkins mall fire hero - subject of El's direyama, it wasn't Will's job to find a hero for El nor was it his responsibility to to suggest she make a projected presentation (his own project's a chart ffs). The shots of Will looking nervous and upset when El presents is for 2 reasons:

i) She followed Angela

ii) She followed Angela

It doesn't matter what your project is, your bullies aren't bullying you for quality control purposes. I guess people who think they can just intervene and stop bullying by their aura alone, truly have no idea how bullying works. Hopefully, for better understanding the material being analysed (to death), they do get to experience being at the receiving end of it, even if it's just a little.

As per El's own admission she chose the diorama as a visual aid - as she was allowed to. Idk if y'all expected Ms. My grammar's getting better also to do a verbose write-up or Ms. sheltered in the lab has got no one poor bby to just suddenly know and find heroic inspiration in famous personalities. What is it? Is she undersocialised and trapped or not? Analyse that.

2. Post presentation

Will tries to assuage El that her presentation wasn't that bad (not a lie that it was great but it truly wasn't the worst) But Ms. friends don't lie won't listen to him. (omg willel wonder twins friends). Sidenote: how was Will gonna tell her that her project was "not what she should have made"? I am guessing the lines would be similar to Angela's and El's response would be similar to El's. Anywho. I'm not spending more time analysing this scene that was clearly meant to establish that El's lying in her letter to Mike and she's not really having a great time in California - which isn't just about the school and bullying btw but also (moreso) about her father's death and the loss of her powers (shown by the scene of her walking away merging into a depressed max doing the emo walk to the chart topping kate bush song: nordic walking really fast up a cliff.) But let's forget all that on-screen text for fanfic hit pieces.

3. Die a rammer

Before El's homage to Hopper meets the wrath of Devila there's a small scene (bby scene tiny as hell uwu) of El receiving her maths tests results. And they were F-ing bad. Another scene to establish how much creative writing went into El's letters to Mike. Will should have tutored her though, I agree. The least he could have done for the girl that got him kidnapped and then saved him from the kidnapper - but was it really saving if he's forever changed? Not important: this is about establishing Will's guilt and El obviously has none.

Anyway, El is minding her business and California dreamin' but Angela and the minions trip her up and methodically destroy her diorama. It doesn't help that an enraged El tries to telekinekick Angela's ass, but as we all know (and now re-know) she has lost her powers and is sad and frustrated about it.

Now some brilliant scientific minds of our generation wanted Will to step into that shit show and (and what?) defend El? The guy that famously freezes? The guy who loaded up a gun in 3.5 seconds but froze up and didn't use it on a literal monster with a monsterface? The same guy who has NO POWERS (would be copying El) and has been bullied throughout his life, not only in school by his peers but even whole ass adults. They called him slurs, egged on by none other than his own Papa. So the great analysts with zero experience in bullying and less than basic level of empathy towards bullied people, wanted Will to shatter his little never seen before peaceful Cali existence to save El after the fact? Yes, Zombie boy go save your social pariah wonder woman channeling sister friend. The fact is, he NEVER abandoned her, but he also didn't have enough social standing at school to prevent El from getting bullied. (A point missed in all analyses.)

He was upset and worried and headed over to console El, not in secret no no, out in the open. He is not a fighter. He has never stood up to his own bullies. He's only "sassy" with his friends and family, people he's close to and feels safe with (a feeling he associates with El too, as seen in his "sassiness" with her, but that's for later.)

Poor El had to be rescued by the teacher herself. No other person in that entire school that was present did anything even remotely expressing sympathy - no they were all laughing at her. Only the teacher and Will were in her corner. So much for resentment.

4. Rink O Maniacs

Let's begin with the airport waiting area: Two happy Byers pookies (yes even I have to concede that El was a pookie here) waiting for their incelebrity crush/love - disappointed almost immediately by the scrotoid they fancy cuz they've not discovered feminism yet.

El has the whole day planned, Will is there around them cuz I guess he's too young to be hotboxing with (a concerned and all-knowing) Jonathan and my man Argyle. I mean they could've bonded over being stressed out over not their girlfriends.

Instead though, Angela and the aerobics class decided to eff up El's planned dayte. Angela on being called El--er--Jane's friend grabs her and heads over to the rink. Will knows El's lying, but was he supposed to idk just blurt it out with all that audience? What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to pre-empt the attack (either) in a crowded place? He wasn't physically gonna stop anyone, let's be real. If Angela would have picked on him, he'd be the one on the rink dressed in milkshake. So let's not pretend it's a reaction unique to seeing El in distress. No that's his response to BEING DISTRESSED - which he was, seeing his sisterfriend whom he likes and doesn't resent (apart from her being the love of Mike's life) in trouble.

Mike goes "above and beyond" i.e. reacts the way y'all would've loved Will to react (but it's not his gene type). Will however is worried and the one that alerts Mike once he realises, things are no longer gonna go anywhere but down under. He finally, reluctantly, but for his sisterfriend El, tells Mike about her problems, or that she's having them. Mike also can hear what's being announced for all the rink (a dedication to Jane the snitch) and coupled with what Will's told him reacts fast and tries (the operative here, he failed too) to stop the show.

Acting prowess aside, Mike and Will are both shocked and worried by El's "wipeout" in a crowded rink where it seems nobody likes her. Mike calls out to El who runs away hurt and embarrassed n not in the mood to answer him.

Now, they BOTH look for El, and MIKE the cunt thinks it's a great time to have a one on one with Will, about him "sabotaging" the day. (I still don't know how he did that, since M11 were pretty much enjoying the date till Angela appeared). The stupid gay fight happens, whatever man, idgaf.

El straightening up in the staff closet hears Angela and the pussycats (and not stupid byler) laughing (most likely at her) and decides, powers or no powers, Angela's gonna feel it tonight. The iconic Angela facelift happens after El's appeals to salvage the day and protect her lies are dismissed. Mike and Will are both again there to give loud reactions and Mike manages to be a moid even in that situation and questions El's overreaction (he at least truly believes that, unlike Will who is ready to lie to the cops abt it being an accident, lol) (Also, a quick mention Mike doesn't remind her of Brenner, Mike's the final straw that takes her back to the lab, she's already feeling weirded out by the blood and the people surrounding her, but ya whatever.)

Commentary:

Will asking El about why she's lying to Mike, isn't just him caring about Mike being lied to over El's well-being. If one's to engage a third braincell, one would notice that Will, too, found out about El's lies that day itself. He realised cuz he lives with his sisterfriend and is with her at school and at not school and so knows whatever she's saying and Mike's recalling from the letters has more imagination put into it than his painting. Will is annoyed at El and Mike (El - cuz he says it, Mike - cuz Mike says it) for being made a third wheel and also being greeted awkwardly (let's not forget he literally didn't gift Mike the painting which he painstakingly made cuz of Mike's weirdo behaviour.) That's not resentment, that's plain annoyance - an emotion Will has shown multiple times over the course of 4 seasons. His emotions don't only exist in the context of El and Mike's existence - you may ask Jonathan and Joyce, if you don't believe me.

It's hard for some people to read Will's character as anything other than a lovesick fool or brother of the main character, and their analysis reeks of this. Let's not forget, unlike Mike Wheeler, Will actually has his OWN stake in the supernatural/sci-fi/horror/superhero plot. Mike is the romantic lead. Will and El have their own journeys and stories both including and completely independent of each other and Mike.

Will not showing El the painting, is more a testament to his enduring feelings for Mike and the post-puberty clarity of romantic/sexual attraction vs puppy love. El didn't show Will her letters to Mike either. (And I am not saying she should have.) Will is not in the text to serve El. In fact, Max herself got promoted from that job. Just slapping on Vecna preys on this juicy shit - doesn't make it true. I am not saying Will and El are perfect siblings, but they're close to it and the show wants us to believe that. (You may take this as a contribution to DBros/MissedOpporunities OTP fanwork)

Will's resentment of El is the jealousy from romantic (not even) rivalry, but it is a very small part of their relationship. He could and should have been more pissy about having the girl who (even accidentally) upended his life just being his new sister now (mike or no mike) but that's not what Will is as a person. Will's jealousy of El is also something he takes out on Mike and NEVER on El.

Maybe there's such a thing as re-watching the show too many times. Y'all jumbling up character names. Y'all need to be peer reviewed.

[straw-hat-nakama-22]

Snipits from fics I'll never finish. Part 2!

“Cook. Would you join me?” Robin invited him to sit across from her in the galley.

Sanji was caught between tripping over himself to get to the bench, and wondering if this was some kind of trap. Which was ridiculous because this was Robin not Reiju and she wouldn’t hurt him but he felt like she should because he deserved it-

He sat cautiously and Robin’s pleasant expression, carefully arranged as it always was, became a little tighter at the edges.

“Is there anything I can get for you? I can warm up some hot chocolate in no time at all? Or if you’re craving something savory-”

“Sanji.” Sanji’s jaw snapped shut and his head ducked. He’d flinched involuntarily. “Would you look at me please?” She tilted her head to try and catch his eye. He peaked up at her and Robin frowned at the dark circle under his eye. “You’re not sleeping.”

Sanji's shoulders dropped slightly, like he was relieved.

“I’m getting as much as I need. Thank you for your concern, but it’s not something you need to worry about.”

“You mean that you’re not worth worrying about.”

Sanji looked stunned.

“What?”

“That is what you mean, isn’t it? That you’re not worthy of my concern or attention or care.”

“As far as I’ve noticed this is the first time I’ve been offered any of that since I got back.” He snapped. Then, immediately dropped his head into one hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You did say it and I’m glad. You’re right. None of us, myself included, have been treating you as we did before. We don’t understand. I was, hurt, when you left.”

Sanji’s head shot up.

“Robin...”

“I wondered, rather self-centeredly, if I had done something to drive you away. You fought the world government to get me back once, and half a dozen times since to keep me.  And then you were gone. No real explanation, just the promise to come back after you’d taken care of whatever was more important than us. It sounds rather petty to say out loud, but I believe everyone on the crew, sans Luffy and Jimbe feel the same way. After some time and thought, Usopp has decided that the woman you ran off with was secretly a Marine spy who then tried to capture you. Zoro just thinks she was already married. Franky is of the opinion that her father was a warlord of the sea, or someone equally as powerful. I have a different theory.”

Sanji leaned back on the bench. If Robin had taken time to think this through, she was going to be right. There was no fighting it, no hiding it, no point in denying it. There was only waiting to be put out of your misery. She knew he’d been a coward and a weakling and always had been.

Robin stood from her side of the bench and sat next to him. Softly, eyes never moving from the aquarium across from them both.

“When you faced CP9, it was the second most terrifying time of my life. Even just the words, buster call... I didn’t want them anywhere near you. Everytime I considered leaving, letting you save me, I saw you all burning. The words, the words wouldn’t even come to my lips. Instead, I’d spew whatever lie I thought would force you to leave me alone. A lie you’d believe. So I wondered, what lie you might tell and why. After careful consideration of your character I came to my conclusion.” Robin looked at him and slipped her hand over his own clenched, trembling fist. She whispered, brows pinched, “You must have been so afraid. I’m so sorry, for not noticing sooner.”

Sanji bit his lip to fight back tears. He’d cried enough. He’d cried too much. He didn’t want to cry in front of Robin. He felt like he needed to say something, but he didn’t know what would come out if he opened his mouth right now. Instead he took Robin’s hand and several long, deep breaths. Once his lungs stopped burning he chanced to mutter.

“I can’t sleep. Not yet.”

Robin nodded in understanding.

“Alright. Can you eat?”

Sanji looked at her with shock, horror, confusion, and guilt all at the same time. It would be amusing in another situation. Not this one.

“I, I eat.”

“A full portion, with us, at the table.”

“They don’t, they don’t want me there, Robin.��

“Even if that’s true, I seem to remember you telling me that the Captain has final say on matters regarding the crew.” She said it with a little smile in her voice. Maybe that’s why Sanji agreed to give it a go.

“I’ll try.” Robin gave his hand a tight squeeze.

“Thank you.”

Sanji slid out from the bench and started on prep work for the next day. He needed to get pie dough in the fridge chilling if he was going to make Franky’s favorite cherry turnovers for a snack tomorrow afternoon. Plus he’d save time to prep dinner then if he pitted the cherries now. He set about pulling out bowls and ingredients.

He was just about to start the actual work when he realized that Robin had settled into the bench with a thick book in hand and three more on the table. A blanket was draped over her lap. 

“Robin?”

“Don’t mind me. It’s a lovely night for reading.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I am.”

“Don’t you want to sleep?”

“Not yet.” She smiled at him softly and Sanji understood. Skipping two nights of sleep was easy for Robin. She would stay up with him for this one. Sanji had been found by a wonderful crew. He didn’t deserve them.

[scoobydoodean]

following along with your rewatch posts, i’ve decided that i think one of the saddest things about the last three episodes of season 6, to me, is just how many chances dean gives cas. even when his brother and father-figure were telling him differently and even after cas did confess to working with crowley, dean was still giving him chances to stop. it wasn’t until cas gave dean an ultimatum involving somebody else dean loves, exactly like crowley’s and maybe too similar to how the angels have always tried to manipulate him, effectively reverting cas back into someone (a monster??) with flexible morals, again maybe too similar to how he was in season 4, that dean stops trusting cas. at least that’s how i’ve connected it. do you agree that it was cas’s ultimatum that was kinda the nail in the coffin of their “break up” or is their a different moment earlier or later that you see as thee moment?

and following that idea, i like to think that even after that dean still would’ve been willing to work with cas if he’d just gone and apologized and asked for help and listened to other ideas, but i wonder if you also think that would’ve ever happened considering both dean’s and cas’s mentalities after what happened to lisa and ben?

I kind of think it happens in stages. Dean still sees Cas as a friend by the end of 6.20. Their friendship is broken in 6.21, but they are both grieving that break. Dean ends the episode in tears, telling Cas that he wished that Cas saving Lisa had the power to mend the tear in their relationship. However, he's still so wounded by Cas's betrayal that he knows none of it is fixed, and he's devastated. Even in 6.22—even after Cas breaks Sam's wall, sending him into a coma—Dean still begs Cas "Don't make me lose you too". Their friendship has been ripped apart, but Dean never stops loving Cas and that makes it all even harder to bear. It's actually in the opening of 7.01 that I believe Dean gives up on Cas, and not because he doesn't love him anymore, but because he thinks the Cas he knew is gone and is never coming back.

Way longer review below the cut:

Dean felt so upset and guilty and torn for most of 6.20. He was trapped between loyalty to and belief in Cas and loyalty to Sam and Bobby—insisting that Cas just made a mistake, that Cas would never lie, that all three of THEM were all being bad friends for doubting him. Finding out Sam and Bobby were right (and only because Cas accidentally slipped up!) was devastating. When it all came to light, Dean just watched Sam, Bobby, and Cas argue at first. When he jumped in, it was to point out Cas's doubts in his own plan and reassert that all of them are supposed to be (and still are) a team.

DEAN: Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil! CASTIEL: It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it? DEAN: I was there. Where were you? DEAN: You should've come to us for help, Cas. CASTIEL: Maybe.  It's too late now. I can't turn back now. I can't. DEAN: It's not too late. Damn it, Cas! We can fix this! CASTIEL: Dean, it's not broken! Run. You have to run now! Run!

Dean knows to some extent that Cas was scared to tell them what he was up to because of the potential fallout, so he insists they can fix this. And I really do think that here, he means they can fix the whole Raphael situation as a team without risking letting something out of Purgatory, but also that their relationship is easily fixable.

The next time they see each other, Dean and Cas have both had more time to think, but it's actually made both of them more worked up. Cas is insisting he did this all for them, and Dean is having none of it (then why did Cas lie? then why did Cas have Dean working for himself and Crowley without Dean's knowledge? And in ways that put Dean's life at risk and in ways that were overtly coerced?). Meanwhile, Cas feels like he was never really heard, and he wants so badly to prove that his actions were backed by pure intentions only (though Cas's narration in 6.20 undermines his assertion, referencing hubris and sunk cost fallacy). Dean knows he's still being bullshitted and lied to, and he also knows it's because Cas can't stop lying to himself.

DEAN: I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it. CASTIEL: I don't understand. DEAN: Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family -- that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something...You got to trust me, man. CASTIEL: Or what?

I think Dean's meaning here often gets interpreted in an unkind way. But at this point, Bobby and Sam had already explained the team's perspective on opening up Purgatory, and Dean had pointed out that Cas's secrets pointed to doubt in his own plan. So next, because he knows Cas already doubts his own plan but thinks he needs to do this anyway because it's "too late", Dean sets aside any arguments about the utility of Cas's plan and tells Cas how much he cares about him. He is essentially telling Cas again that it is not too late to mend their relationship, while also telling Cas (who is already in a state of paranoia that is getting worse) that Dean's concern about Cas's plan have no ulterior motive. Refusing to stand beside Cas isn't a plot against him—it comes from a place of love. Cas nearly chokes on Dean's expression of affection for a moment, but then he steels himself and turns it back into a fight with, "Or what?", tossing Dean's love aside, and both of them turn back to the solider mentality—to duty. Cas believes he has to do this to save the world, and Dean believes he has to stop him to save the world. They both believe everyone is depending on them (and Death later reiterates that he was depending on Dean to stop this and shames him for failure).

In the following episode, Crowley kidnaps Lisa and Ben and uses them to try and force Dean to stand down, and Dean has to assume that Castiel knows and is a part of this. And it isn't unreasonable that Dean makes that assumption, because Cas knew Crowley was forcing Sam and Dean to work for him after a certain point, and he presumably knew Crowley used Sam's soul as leverage, boasting that he pulled Sam from The Cage when he didn't. Cas did that, and then let Crowley lie and use it as leverage over the brothers to force them to do his bidding. So why wouldn't Dean assume that Cas decided to leverage someone else Dean cares about while hiding behind Crowley's moral bankruptcy and claiming his own hands are clean? Now Dean isn't just hurt—he's angry.

Meanwhile, Cas has worked himself up to feeling betrayed. He feels unheard—he feels like if Dean only listened, he'd understand and Dean would fall in line. He becomes so fixated on explaining and re-acquiring Dean's loyalty that when he learns Lisa and Ben were kidnapped, he... makes it all about himself? The first thing out of his mouth after "saving" Dean (from a situation Cas helped to create and then expects thanks for) is to basically say, "I had no idea Crowley would leverage people you care about to force your compliance". Except... Cas did know that Crowley would do that. He didn't know Crowley would take Lisa and Ben specifically, but Crowley leveraging the people Dean cares about to bend him to his will already happened this season. It happened when Crowley forced Sam and Dean to work for him while dangling Sam's soul over their heads! More than that, Cas shows his priorities. His concern in this scene is first and foremost with proving he didn't do anything wrong and this isn't his fault and that he is entitled to Dean's loyalty instead of trying to fix the present emergency situation. When Dean doesn't believe Cas wasn't involved with Lisa and Ben's kidnapping, Cas is devastated, but more than that—it reinforces his feelings of betrayal and his growing resentment toward Dean for "disloyalty". Wounded, he flips Dean's words about them being family to serve his side, claiming that he is entitled to Dean's trust, but he ignores everything he did that created the distrust. Even though Cas specifically noted Dean's extreme loyalty to him in 6.20 while Sam and Bobby grew increasingly suspicious, Cas now implies that Dean has never really been loyal to Cas, when he outright knows that that isn't true. Then Cas words something very very badly, and comes across as if he's predicating his help with Lis and Ben on Dean standing down. This only reinforces Dean's suspicions that Cas had something to do with the entire thing! They both leave the encounter heartbroken—and then again at the end of the episode. By the end of 6.20, Dean was still willing to call Cas a friend, but after this episode, their relationship is damaged in a way that is no longer easy to fix. With tears in his eyes, Dean says at the end of the episode,

Thank you. I wish this changed anything.

Cas saving Lisa isn't enough. Dean is still so wounded—he wishes things were different and they could still be friends, but Cas hurt him. Even still, Dean hasn't given up on Cas. He's very hurt, and he's angry, but he still believes maybe he can make Cas see sense, and he still cares about him. He shows this in 6.21.

In the opening of 6.21, Cas and Crowley torture Eleanor. Dean hears her say:

The demon I could've handled, but when the angel stepped in, I-

A moment later, when Cas arrives, he tries to hide behind Crowley, claiming it was all his fault.

Crowley got carried away.

This lie also reinforces Dean's belief that Cas will hide behind Crowley's unethical dealings like a shield, throwing all the blame on him while pretending his ass doesn't stink. This calls Cas's assertions that the Lisa and Ben plot was all Crowley's doing into question even further. Even then though, Dean is analyzing—trying to see beneath the surface:

You don't even see it, do you? How totally off the rails you are!

This is actually very generous. Dean believes Cas isn't cognizant of how bad his own actions are, when a lot of people might start to believe this is who their (former) friend is deep down.

THEN Cas throws the biggest self-sabotaging move possible. In 6.21, Cas is devastated by Dean believing Cas would leverage the people Dean cares about to bend Dean to his will. But then... in 6.22, Cas turns around and... leverages a person Dean cares about to bend Dean to his will.

Well rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down.

AND YET. Even after this AND Lisa and Ben, Dean STILL tries AGAIN. He doesn't lie about their relationship being broken, but his words make it clear that he still still cares about Cas's safety:

Listen to me. Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too.

Pleading. PLEADING yet again, after EVERYTHING. After Sam (who is in a coma at that point) and Lisa and Ben... it still isn't so bad that Dean wouldn't grieve losing Cas too. Like. WOW.

And again, Cas rejects him, and says they aren't friends. Then in 7.01, Godstiel asserts that they were never really friends—they were Cas's pets.

Once you were my favorite pets before you turned and bit me.

I think type of language from Cas really really sets off Dean's danger sirens, because this is how the other angels talk about Dean—calling him an ape, a howler monkey, a marmoset... a meatsuit that exists to be used—to play a role—to serve as entertainment even—to be used as food even. Cas is supposed to be different. He distinguishes himself from this sort of language as early as 4.07 when he admonishes Uriel for calling humans "plumbing on two legs". Instead, Cas tells Dean in 4.07 that humans are precious works of art. Now in 7.01, Godstiel says Dean was never anything more than a pet to him. I also don't think Cas saying at the end of 6.20 "You're just a man" after Dean told him how much he cared about him helped either (though Cas didn't mean that in particular as a dismissal of Dean's affections—I think Dean could easily have received it that way, and it is a dominance display where Cas treats his own viewpoint as more worthy and valuable because he is more physically powerful and Dean is a mortal). I think this is where Dean really tells himself that Cas is gone—especially after Cas reiterates that he won't heal Sam to punish Dean for disobeying him. Dean's defeatist attitude is present from the beginning of the episode in terms of salvaging his friend. The Cas Dean knew is gone. Dean tried to get through to Cas several times and had his affections dismissed or reversed for what came across as a manipulation tactic, then Cas said their relationship never meant anything to him—it was never real. A person who sees Dean as a lesser creature because he is not as physically powerful or as old or whatever the hell? That is NOT the Cas that Dean grew to care about. Their entire relationship started from the basic notion that Cas valued humans as equals and it grew from there. You cannot be friends with someone who doesn't even see you as a person. You cannot get through to a person who sees you as a pet. So Dean gives up on saving Cas. Shortly after, Death blames Dean for not being able to stop Cas in time, and Dean gives up on all of it. Cas finally sees sense a day later. He almost immediately tries to make things better, but Dean isn't ready.

CASTIEL: Dean? DEAN: What, you need something else? CASTIEL: No. I feel regret, about you and what I did to Sam. DEAN: Yeah, well, you should.

Dean is still angry. I mean—of course he is. Anyone would be.

CASTIEL: If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd -- I'd fix him now. I just wanted to make amends before I die. DEAN: Okay.

We see something that becomes kind of a staple of Dean and Cas's relationship—Cas wanting to fix things with actions. I mean fixing Sam would be a good idea, but fixing Sam doesn't fix the emotional damage that's happened here. Cas is apologizing, but Dean isn't in an emotional state where he can accept the apology. He needs space. He can't even imagine what they do now.

CASTIEL: Is it working?

I find this VERY funny. But in all seriousness—it's Cas predicating forgiving himself on Dean forgiving him, and Dean kind of digs into that by turning it back on Cas and saying:

DEAN: Does it make you feel better?

Morosely, the conversation ends with them saying:

CASTIEL: No. You? DEAN: Not a bit.

Cas is mournful, Dean is exhausted and shut down. Still—he can't stop touching Cas, and when they think he's dead for a moment:

BOBBY: He's cold. DEAN: Is he breathing? BOBBY: No. DEAN: Maybe angels don't need to breathe. BOBBY: He's gone, Dean.

HE DIDN'T WANT CAS TO DIE. HE DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE HIM TOO.

When Cas ends up waking up:

CASTIEL: I'm ashamed. I really overreached.

Istg he's doing this shit 👉👈🥺. Dean is not amused.

DEAN: You think? CASTIEL: I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you. DEAN: All right, well, one thing at a time. Come on. Let's get you out of here. Come on.

Honestly? I think Dean is just relieved Cas is alive—and he isn't ready to forgive Cas, but he also doesn't want Cas to think he can't. So he just keeps saying, "Okay." OKAY. Cas makes Dean stop—makes him listen:

CASTIEL: I mean it, Dean. DEAN: Okay. All right. 

Dean believes him. Their relationship isn't fixed, but Cas is promising to fix it, and Dean isn't going to shut him down from trying. He doesn't want to lose Cas either.

[eris-snow]

HII I LOVE ALL UR FICS SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️ COULD U MAYBE WRITE A PART 2 TO THE AIZAWA AND HIS DAUGHTER FIC? IT WAS AMAZING ❤️ IF NOT THEN THANKS ANYWAYS ❤️❤️

Ask and you shall receive (Even if it is two months late)

The first part of it is here

----

“Y/n,” Monoma enunciated, smirk ready on his face as he walked up to your table. “Did you see the number of failures Class A got in comparison to ours? Pathetic, right?”

It is almost too easy to gossip about Class A. Whenever Monoma cackles to you about them, you engage him with snarky, poisonous words that part of you is ashamed of. You know they are good people. They’re all trying to be heroes, you are too, but their good-naturedness makes the words you spew more venomous as you try to get rid of the suffocating feeling squeezing your throat.

“They are,” You agree readily. “Can’t say I’m surprised, considering the ruckus they make every day. They try to get the limelight so badly, they don’t know how bad it looks on the surface.”

It feels good, you can’t lie, but part of you is also guilty for saying the things you did.

Your father means well, you know that. And it’s exactly because of it that it hurts.

Is it selfish? To want a father when every second he’s not there for you, he’s saving the world and touching the hearts of so many of his students who talk fondly of him?

You bite your lip, already regretting your fight with him the other day. There was no repairing this bridge now.

—

“Y/n?” Aizawa stops by your class when you’re on your way out. “Can I speak to you?”

Aizawa wants to kick himself in the gut.

He’s replayed your fight with him over a dozen times, sifting through his memories and alternate conversation lines he could have used to justify his defences.

Instead, he’s made more and more aware of how rarely he sees or actually talks with you after you’ve entered U.A. It’s jarring and frightening just how little he knows about your life.

He’s been a terrible father.

You cock an eyebrow at him, eyes empty and guarded. It’s defensive, he realises. As if you are expecting him to hurt you. Something inside Aizawa crumbled. Some hero he was.

“What do you want from me?” You mumble, frozen to the floor. His eyes are scary, they pin you there like nails to a board.

Your father’s eyes dilated a fraction, and it has you curling into yourself instinctively. Shit. You should have phrased it nicer, you should have kept your mouth shut or—

“Y/n, I’m not mad.” He reassures you, touching your hand. You don’t move an inch.

“Come on,” Aizawa pulls you along, and you wish you had the strength to pull away, but you pathetically allow him to drag you down the corridors to his Class’s dorm without resistance.

—

Silence engulfs the room when Aizawa closes the door to his room in Class A’s dorm.

He turns back to you, opens his mouth before watching you flinch back. He hates it. Hates that even without doing anything, you look like you’re on the verge of tears like a rabbit that’s trapped by his words. He never meant to do that to you.

“Are you hungry?” He asks instead, trying to cool the edge of his voice by the slightest bit. “You haven’t had lunch yet, so I can order something in if you want.”

You pause, careful and tense. “It’s fine. I can eat later.”

“Do you want to talk about school? What you did today?” He prompts, raising an eyebrow.

You have that look again. The look that shows that you do want to tell him something, but you’re holding yourself back. Your head shakes. “No.” You reply quietly.

“You can sit down here. I think I have—”

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, raising your voice and breaking the tense peace.

“Are you trying to make up for the past 5 years? Because I get it, okay? I get that you feel bad!”

“Y/n,” Aizawa tries to think through the fog of emotions, tries to find the right words to say but nothing comes to mind. “It’s not just that—”

“What else is there?” Your voice is hoarse, and he’s made you cry—again. He’s always making you cry. “I finally know my place, alright? I know that I’m not I’m not up there on your priority list, hell, I don’t even know if I’m on it. You know, for a time, I actually tried, really, really hard. I tried to initiate conversations and guise my feelings just to see you smile.” You sniffle, shaking your head.

Unlike the previous time, when your voice was a concoction of anger and pent-up word vomit, this time, you’re putting yourself down with a mixture of self-hate and sorrow. With words as sharp as knives, you belittle yourself. Aizawa hates that he’s the one who made you think of yourself like that.

“Stop trying to sugarcoat it! You don’t love me—!”

This time, Aizawa refuses to react to late. His body moves, and before you know it he has his arms wrapped around yours. You’re bigger now, around his shoulder level. He hasn’t hugged you in a long time.

“Of course I love you,” Aizawa whispered, pressing your head tight against his shoulder. His face is wet and, oh look, he’s crying too. “I haven’t shown it, I haven’t done a lot of things, but don’t ever think I don’t love you, Firefly.”

He can feel you stiffen against his body. He hasn’t called you that since your mother passed, and you didn't think you would ever hear him call you that ever again. The sobs that wrench themselves out of your lips are heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters, hugging you tighter. “I didn’t mean to neglect you in the way that I did, so please…” He says, voice wrecked with guilt. “Give me another chance.”

He wants to try. Try to make it up to you because he’s already missed most of your life by dwelling too much on someone who was already gone.

He needs to make it up to you. What kind of hero would he be if he couldn’t?

You crumble like a house of cards, sobs consuming your being a whole as he desperately holds you together with his two bare hands.

You don’t say anything to him, and he doesn’t anymore to you, but you cling onto him tight like you’re afraid he’s going to let go.

And he clutches you back, knowing that this is exactly what you need.

---

I know quite a few people have been requesting for this even though it was written quite a while back, so thank you for requesting for this! I hope you enjoyed this and have a beautiful day/afternoon/night ❤️

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Not proofread.

I spotted Galileo in the middle of the night and quietly followed him into the garden.

Unlike during the day, the moonlight pouring down made the flowers stand out in the darkness.

(There he is.)

Amid that beautiful view, Galileo knelt and gazed at the flowers.

His melancholic amethyst eyes exude a sense of vulnerability, making him seem like a different person from his usual cold self.

Feeling as though I shouldn't interrupt, I merely watched as he plucked a red flower and brought it to his lips.

(It's just like the first time we met.)

(Why is he eating the flowers? To suppress the urge to drink blood?)

But right now, he doesn't seem to possess any will.

He seemed so hollow and fragile that he might vanish if I touched him.

As I watched, he picked another flower and ate it, then looked up at the sky, making a faint sound.

The red petals that fell from his lips adorned his chest as if it were a separate world.

(I can't take my eyes off him.)

Enthralled by the scene, I suddenly heard quiet footsteps approaching.

Drake: "Curious?"

Mitsuki: "Drake."

Drake gave a light smile and turned his gaze to Galileo.

Drake: "You know, he doesn't even realize it."

Mitsuki: "Realize what?"

Drake: "He's been unconsciously trapped all these years by his dead brethren without realizing it."

Mitsuki: "Dead brethren? You mean the dhampirs?"

Unable to fully grasp the conversation, I asked again, and Drake sadly smiled.

Drake: "Beneath those red flowers lie the corpses of the dhampir."

Mitsuki: "............"

I was left speechless, unable to fathom what I just heard.

The girl running away with her father and the sickly boy lying in bed with his parents watching over him—their persecuted and deprived lives I had experienced in my dreams came back to me.

Drake: "He couldn't leave those dhampirs who died so cruelly."

Drake: "After spending some time here at this hideout, he managed to bring them here and mourn them under the beautiful flowers."

Drake: "I guess he thinks they can rest peacefully now."

Drake: "Perhaps he also wants someone to witness what he's going to do next."

(Galileo planted flowers above the corpses of the dhampir.)

Drake: "Blanc flowers are white. But why do red flowers bloom only in that place?"

Drake: "It's like those red flowers absorbed blood."

Quietly, Drake weaved the tale hidden within the voiceless flowers.

Drake: "By consuming the blood-stained flowers like that, he is etching the grievances of the dhampirs into himself."

Drake: "At least, that's how I see it."

Mitsuki: "..........."

In front of us, Galileo continued to bring the red flowers to his lips.

His figure, bathed in moonlight, appeared even more fleeting.

(Galileo had gone back in time and tried many times to save the dhampirs, but…)

(He's so consumed by sorrow that he engraves it on himself like this because he couldn't succeed.)

Mitsuki: "How long have you been with Galileo?"

Drake: "How long? Hahaha! I've already forgotten."

Drake: "He grabbed my hand when I was about to die and pulled me up from the sea. That's how we met."

Mitsuki: "So you're one of the important brethren Galileo managed to save."

Mitsuki: "I'm glad you're by Galileo's side."

Drake: "..........."

(Even if it's just one person, the life he saved matters.)

Drake: "You're a good kid, little fawn."

He shrugged and smiled.

I returned my gaze to Galileo, recalling his words.

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "I attempted to change the fate of my brethren using this door."

Galileo: "I tried multiple times to save the few of them born throughout history, but it always ended in failure. It's as if the world rejects them."

Galileo: "Dhampirs are destined to disappear from history."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Galileo has been carrying the deaths of his brethren.)

Even after paying respects, he still put flowers in his mouth.

Also...

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "And I have a warning for you."

Galileo: "Don't ever mention that man in front of me again."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Perhaps denying his past self stems from his grievance towards his brethren.)

But at that moment, there was also intense anger.

(Galileo might be carrying something else as well.)

As I watched him with the red flower on his lips, I felt a tightness in my chest.

After returning inside, Drake told me not to tell him what he had just said and went back to his room.

(I need to be careful not to mention that scene or the dhampirs in front of him.)

At that moment,

Galileo: "What are you doing at this hour?"

Mitsuki: "Galileo."

I turned around and saw the person in question standing before me.

His eyes, now sharp and quizzical, were completely different from the empty expression earlier.

Mitsuki: "Um, getting some water. What about you?"

Galileo: "I was just taking in the night air."

There was a slight pause in his response. It's possible he didn't remember what happened earlier.

(I wanted to heal his sorrow by knowing him and to stop his purpose, but there's nothing I can do for now.)

Unable to find the right words, I looked up at him with a melancholic feeling.

Galileo: "You sometimes stare at people like that."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Galileo: "It's like you're trying to see something in them."

He continued to look at me without averting his gaze.

Galileo: "Honestly, I was surprised when you came to this hideout."

Mitsuki: "Why's that?"

Galileo: "You could have trusted the vampires in the mansion, even though we set the terms."

Galileo: "You could have turned a blind eye to the truth."

(There might have been such options.)

But all that was on my mind was wanting to protect everyone in the mansion and wanting to know the real him. Even if there was an option to escape, I probably wouldn't have chosen it.

Galileo: "You said you wanted to know me even after knowing my purpose, but aren't you afraid of me?"

(I...)

What naturally came out of my lips was surprising even to me.

Mitsuki: "I'm not afraid."

Mitsuki: "I was indeed scared at first."

Mitsuki: "Even now, I'm a bit scared. But..."

(I can't quite express it, but when I look at him, my heart tightens.)

(I want to understand why I feel this way.)

I want to know why his eyes were filled with danger and a hint of melancholy.

Mitsuki: "I want to face you head-on without turning away."

Galileo: "............"

Silence fell between us.

We exchanged glances for a while, and eventually, he let out a small sigh.

Galileo: "You're truly honest and righteous to a fault."

Surprisingly, his voice lacked its usual coldness.

He turned away, and I hesitantly called out to him.

Mitsuki: "Um, goodnight."

For a moment, it seemed like he might turn back toward me, but Galileo melted into the shadows of the night without looking back.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[accio-sriracha]

Sirius Black Was Nothing If Not Consistent.

BECAUSE I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO TORTURE ALL OF YOU.

Based on this post here: <3

(I recommend reading it first for context)

~~~ ~~~

As he stood with his back to the wall, Harry Potter kicking open the door only inches from his shoulder, Sirius felt his life unravel around him.

Harry was the spitting image of his father... except those eyes.

The same vibrant green he remembered as Lily's.

Harry had the same spirit as his parents, unafraid, caring, willing to throw himself into harms way to save the people he loved.

Sirius hadn't been listening to their quiet humblings until he heard Harry's name.

"Harry, it's a trap-"

"What-"

It was Harry's voice, and Merlin did he sound like James.

The red haired kid was staring at Sirius over Harry's shoulder, "He's the dog... He's an Animagus."

Sirius closed the door so they could see him better, which slammed shut with a loud bang. He could see them all jump.

He cursed the worn hinges. This was the same room he and Remus had shared all those years ago. The door would slam shut even then, sometimes giving them away to James and Peter.

The thought of his wretched name made Sirius focus again. He was here for Pettigrew. He couldn't get distracted.

He tried to smile to soften the blow as he disarmed them, catching Harry's and the girl's wand. He could tell the smile didn't quiet turn out right. It had been so very long since he had tried.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend." His voice was hoarse from being unused all those years, clearing his throat hardly helped, "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful... it will make everything easier..."

He thought of McGonagall. Of the betrayal he knew he would find there. He thought of Sprout and Flitwick.

Professors he had once truly cared for.

Professors who now knew him only as a traitor.

Nobody knew the truth. He needed Harry to understand.

Harry lurched towards him, speaking of James had upset him greatly, Sirius could understand why. With what Harry must think of him...

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" The other kid shouted, swaying on his feet as he stood to protect him.

Sirius startled. Those would have been some of James' last words....

They would have been Lily's dying breath.

He didn't want to hurt Harry. He wished he could make them see that. No, these things are hard to be undone. It would take time to gain their trust.

"Lie down." He said quietly to the boy, who seemed to love Harry the way Sirius had loved his father, "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me? You'll have to kill all three of us!" He called, ignoring him, needing to lean on Harry just to stay standing.

"There'll be only one murder here tonight." He could feel himself smile slightly. He couldn't help it.

The last twelve years he'd dreamed of this day. Of avenging his best friends and killing Peter Pettigrew once and for all.

Harry snarled at him, a nasty sound Sirius wasn't sure should ever belong to a kid like him. His eyes flashed with fury,

"Why's that?" He spat, struggling against his friend's hold, "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those muggles to get at Pettigrew... what's the matter? Gone soft in Azkaban?"

Sirius knew Harry was angry, he knew he had the right to be, so he tried not to react even as the mention of the horrible place brought a chill to his very bones.

No, he thought, The opposite. I'm far worse than I've ever been before.

He didn't say this. Wouldn't dare. Not in the face of Harry's grief. He would have to make things right.

Harry's friends tried to get Harry to stop, he didn't listen, his voice echoing off the walls of the shack as he roared,

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!"

And Sirius knew exactly how he felt. He knew that passion. That desperation. He knew it because it was a part of him, engraved in his every inch of his soul.

He thought of his manic blindness towards anything that wasn't Pettigrew these last few weeks.

No. He didn't blame Harry for hating him.

It was because of this thought he didn't struggle when Harry broke free and lunged at him.

It was with that thought Sirius let him rip the wands from his hands, he didn't fight even as Harry's fist connected with Sirius' head, both of them flying backwards to the wall.

Punch after punch, Sirius refused to give in. Eventually, when he could hear Pettigrew's squeak from the corner, he knew he had to make his move quickly.

"No. I've waited too long." He tried to shove him off with little success. He really had gone weak in Azkaban, all that time starving himself and he'd left any muscle he had behind him in that cell.

He didn't want to hurt the kid, but he also didn't have a winning chance at a fair fight and they both knew it.

Holding Harry's neck, he grabbed him and pushed him off, dropping him with a pained grunt.

Crookshanks had grown agitated, flying into the mix along with Ron as they wrestled Sirius away from the wands.

Harry shouted something at the cat, and Crookshanks ran away again.

Sirius was panting, sunken against the wall and hardly able to move. The kid had fight, he'd give him that. The bruises that now caused throbbing pain all over Sirius' body could attest to it.

Harry approached him, wand pointed at Sirius' heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" He whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, "You killed my parents." His voice shook, but his wand held steady.

Sirius wondered what James would think of his boy now, brave and sure even in the face of what he believed was great danger.

Harry was right. Sirius was responsible. He should have never talked James into allowing Peter to be the Secret Keeper. He should have never trusted anyone but himself to keep them safe.

"I don't deny it." His voice was broken, "But if you knew the whole story-"

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, almost exasperated, "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

And this kid, this beautiful, brave kid, made Sirius so proud he wanted to cry. His fierce protectiveness of James and Lily, the loyalty that he displayed on his expression with pride.

Sirius wished he could make him understand,

"You've got to listen to me," He started, trying to express the urgency he felt, "You'll regret it if you don't... you don't understand..."

"I understand a lot better than you think." He said, his eyes narrowed, "You never heard her, did you? My mum... trying to stop Voldemort killing me... and you did that... you did it..."

Before either of them could say another word, Crookshanks leapt past Harry onto Sirius' chest. After the last short eternity Sirius had spent holed up in this shack with nothing but the cranky old cat for company, he felt moved by the gesture. Harry muttered and tried to push him off.

Crookshanks sunk his claws into Sirius' robes painfully, refusing to budge.

Sirius watched the indecision on his face, until finally he raised his wand, seemingly uncaring for the cat that sat between them.

He hesitated. Seconds turned to minutes. Harry stood there, wand poised, Sirius staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest.

Then came a sound. A horrible, horrible sound.

Footsteps.

Someone was moving downstairs, obviously they had witnessed the group go through the tunnel and followed after them.

Sirius felt a pang of guilt, remembering the last time he'd convinced someone to follow after them, nearly letting Severus get killed in the process.

The girl began shouting immediately, "We're up here! We're up here- Sirius Black- quick!"

Sirius felt his heart begin to race.

He was going back to Azkaban.

His lungs stopped working entirely. He didn't have enough time. He needed to kill Peter. He needed to explain.

He shivered, hard, nearly enough to knock Crookshanks off of his chest.

Harry's expression hardened, his wand gripped tight.

Footsteps thundered up the steps.

Harry still hadn't done anything.

Sirius still hadn't exposed Pettigrew.

The door burst open with a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around, his face was that of relief.

Sirius' next thought was a simple one: Please don't let it be McGonagall.

And it wasn't.

It was so much worse.

Remus Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face a pale white, his wand raised and ready.

He looked to the kids, lying on the floor by the bed, then to Harry, who stood there with his wand half raised.

And then their eyes met.

For a second- a fleeting, hopeful second- Sirius swore he saw that familiar spark of trust.

And he was right.

Remus disarmed them all with a move so fast none of them could have seen it coming.

He was still staring at Sirius, the longer they met eyes the softer Remus' expression grew. Sirius could see it clearly, the sorrow, the grief, twelve years had aged them both.

Sirius could only hope Remus' had been easier.

When Remus spoke, memories crashed over Sirius, Remus' voice shook with a similar feeling, the immense loss that cradled them, the love they had once shared,

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Sirius felt shock hit him in waves.

Remus trusted him. Remus knew about Peter. He wasn't going to Azkaban.

On the surface, he kept his cool mask, raising a skeletal finger towards the pathetic rat across the room.

"But then..." Remus whispered, looking at Sirius like he always used to, as if the answers were written across his face, "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-"

Remus' eyes suddenly widened, "unless he was the one... unless you switched...without telling me?"

Sirius couldn't bare to look away, couldn't think of anything past this feeling. Remus would finally understand.

All of those years of pain and torture had lead him to this very moment.

Slowly, watching every minute detail of his expression, Sirius nodded.

And the relief that flooded Remus was nearly tangible. His lips brushed upwards, ever so slightly, in a smile.

"Professor." Harry interrupted loudly, "What's going on?"

But neither of them were listening, Remus was lowering his wand, moving to stand beside him. He grabbed Sirius hand and pulled him up to his feet.

And he embraced him.

Grief and hatred and guilt fell away from them in that moment. Nothing mattered more than the feeling of Remus holding him in his arms.

He wanted to sob. He wanted to scream and shout and jump around proclaiming his love to anyone who would listen.

Remus forgave him.

In that moment he'd forgotten all about Peter. All about James and Lily's son. All about his plan to avenge them.

None of it mattered. Not when he could see the love still flickering behind his eyes.

Remus forgave him.

If Sirius had learned anything in the last twelve years he'd spent alone.

He had learned that was more than enough.

He smiled at him, not as difficult as it had been only minutes ago.

And Remus smiled back.

Sirius could die happy right there, in Remus' arms, without a care in the world.

[blackkatmagic]

Granta and Obi-Wan trapped in a Sith layer together, maybe obi-wan gets cursed to not be able to leave the side of the first person he sees?

“If you're not very careful right now,” Obi-Wan says pleasantly, “I'm going to push you into the lava.”

Granta scoffs, though he maybe gives the long drop slightly more of a berth than he had planned to a moment ago. “You seem to forget that if I fall, you’ll be jumping after me less than ten seconds later, Kenobi, given that you're magically tied to me right now.”

“Yes, but they’ll be the most peaceful ten seconds of my life.” Obi-Wan’s grip on his arm is iron, a warning, and Granta wants to push, to prod, to shake through the defenses of the man who replaced his father as Qui-Gon’s perfect padawan, but—

“One would think you’d have more of a tolerance, given what you raised,” he says sweetly.

Obi-Wan’s mouth thins, but there's a light of desperation in his eyes as he scans the interior of the temple’s next room. “It has to be a lie,” he says, just a little ragged. “Anakin wouldn’t have murdered innocents.”

Granta snorts. “He confessed to it himself,” he says. There's a point where blindness stops being entertaining and simply becomes annoying, and Obi-Wan passed that point almost twelve hours ago. “Just before he tried to kill his padawan, his mission partner, and his clone squad, just because of a few visions.”

“You wouldn’t be calling them that if you’d been able to see them,” Obi-Wan says quietly. “The Sith ghost showed us the future.”

“My only future is revenge against the Order, and I don’t need to see that beforehand, since I’ll be bringing it into being shortly—”

A hand on his shoulder, a shove. Granta stumbles, jerks, but Obi-Wan’s iron grip doesn’t waver as he’s pushed out, off-balance and scrambling, held right over the open pit that glows with heat and a dull, angry light. If Obi-Wan’s hold slips even a little, he won't have a chance to save himself given how tightly his hands are bound, and the knowledge sends his heartbeat racing in his ears.

“Going to kill me like you killed my father, Obi-Wan?” he asks softly, despite the pace of his heart. Stone crumbles under his boots, and he jerks despite himself, staring into Obi-Wan’s face. Looking for that coldness that was in Xanatos’s eyes, the last time Granta saw him, because that’s how Force-users look at him—

But it’s not how Obi-Wan is looking at him. There’s anger in his face, grief, a regret that makes Granta seethe, but it’s there and unwavering as he meets Granta's eyes.

“Xanatos committed suicide,” Obi-Wan says, perfectly even, though the look on his face is anything but cold distance. “He didn’t want to face punishment for what he’d done, and he threw himself into what was left of the Sacred Pools. I wish I’d been able to stop him, if only for your sake, Granta.”

The words shake through Granta, twist the anger up into vicious, desperate knots. “That’s a lie,” he snaps, and some mad impulse has him throwing all of his weight back—

Obi-Wan wrenches him forward, twists them, shoves him up against the wall instead, and Granta's breath is knocked out of him on an awful sound. Obi-Wan is like a wall in front of him, though, and he twists but can't get free, gives up with a curse and just leans there.

He’s shaking, maybe. There's a tremor in him, something deep and desperate and cold, and Obi-Wan is the first warm thing in a lifetime, even if he’s a blind fool.

“Bastard,” he manages, but Obi-Wan breathes out, cups a hand over the nape of his neck, and Granta has to close his eyes, because everything is too much.

“It’s not a lie,” Obi-Wan says. “Though given that I've apparently been raising a Sith Lord, I understand if my certainty means less right now than if might otherwise.”

Granta snorts. Anakin is most definitely a problem they're going to have to deal with if they want to get out of this temple. Preferably before he kills Ferus and Ahsoka, since Obi-Wan is going to be all but useless at facing him. Ferus seems like the practical sort, though. Granta can probably get him to stab Anakin at least once.

“I have contacts on Tatooine,” he says, soft, almost a taunt for all it doesn’t have much will behind it. “If you’d like to know whether it’s true that he wiped out a whole tribe.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a long moment, then closes his eyes. “I don’t want to,” he says. “But—I need to.”

Granta hates the Jedi. He hates their righteousness, their self-important nobility, their haughty dignity. But looking at Obi-Wan right now—

“Let go of me,” he says, instead of what’s knotted up and pulsing in his chest. “Or I'm going to assume you want to pin me to something solid and fuck me, and then I’ll be most disappointed by your prudishness—”

“Would that make you be quiet for five minutes?” Obi-Wan asks, exasperated. “Because if it will, I’d be happy to help.”

Granta opens his mouth, closes it, and then laughs. Not prudishness, then.

“I should have known,” he says. “Given how readily you drop your robes at the first opportunity.”

Obi-Wan snorts, but there's a curve to his mouth that isn't the pinched tightness of a few moments ago, and he prods Granta along with a slightly lighter touch. “I refuse to have sex in a Sith temple, regardless of the circumstances.”

“Then you shouldn’t have flirted with the Sith witch who cursed you, maybe—”

“I will shove you up against another wall,” Obi-Wan says, aggrieved, and Granta snorts and lets himself be pushed onward down the path.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 2

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 1 🍂 Part 3

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Series warning: Eventual smut, right now, more fluff...

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Thank @keanureevesisbae for hitting that 30k mark and earning the whole of the internet a nice little chunk of Sy <3

Any mistakes you may find I left in there on purpose for y'all to find!

“NO! NO! NO!” You jumped away from the spluttering shower as fast as you could. The water was ice cold and brown. God, you’d been so occupied with everything else that needed done around here that you completely forgot to call a plumber. Maybe Sy was right, maybe this house was a death-trap. Your phone rang; speak of the devil!

“Sy, hey! I was just thinking about the way you insulted my house yesterday!”

“I’m sorry, Sugar,” you could hear Sy laugh on the other side of the call. He had a hot laugh. And a hot voice. God you couldn’t afford to think about a man this much, you had other things to worry about. Brown tap water. Toilets that didn’t work. Things like that.

“Hey, I know there’s the whole thing where we’re supposed to wait three days to call,” he said nervously, “but I couldn’t wait. First because I’d really like to see you again,” that was awfully sweet of him… “and second because I couldn’t help but wonder if you’d gotten stuck in your porch again and were in need of rescue.” And another insult. Great.

The stifled snickering on the other side of the line made you want to punch this man in the throat. Sure, you’d need a step stool to even be able to reach it, but God he was annoying right now.

“I don’t need your help, Sy!” That was a lie. “But I’d love to go out for a drink again.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Lara, are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?” The concern in his voice was so genuine that you decided to humor him.

“I’ll let you know if I think of anything,” you said with the sweetest voice you could muster, “but in the meantime I could use a ride to the café?”

“Already on my way, I’ll see you in five.” Five? Did he mean hours? You were still in your pajama’s. And partially covered in dirt water. And dirt dirt. Hair a mess, face a mess, barefoot and… You quickly brushed your teeth with some bottled water, cursing all the way through at how completely ridiculous that was, and looked in the broken mirror over the sink. The options were: ‘Brush hair and look like exploded poodle who had been struck by lightning’ or ‘don’t brush hair and look like exploded poodle who hadn’t been struck by lightning’, and since that last option both saved time and looked less… static, you decided to go with that.

Five minutes, on the dot. You’d say your doorbell rang, but that didn’t work, either. A knock on the door worked just fine, though, especially if the person knocking tried his very best to whack the entire thing from its hinges.

“One moment!” You yelled, trying furiously to un-fuck the situation your foot and your jeans currently had going on, leaving you half-naked at the top of the three steps into the sunken kitchen, struggling and… Of course.

“AAHRH!” You were now half-naked at the bottom of the three steps that lead into the sunken kitchen, still struggling. Your foot was unstuck. That was great.

“Are you alright in there?” Sy sounded worried rather than amused, but it was the kind of voice that allowed for that to change immediately after finding out you were alright. You pulled your skinny jeans to where they were supposed to go and got up. Or tried to, because a sharp pain in your ankle sent you floor bound again.

“Fuck!” You swore a little too loudly to make your next statement believable. “Yeah!”

“Sugar, is your back door unlocked?” Oh god, back in secondary school that would have been a monster innuendo.

“Sy, I’m fine!” Another lie.

“Darlin’,” he said with the determination of a man not to be messed with, “if you were as good at soundin’ fine ‘s you are at lookin’ it, I’d believe you. Now can I get to you without harming this house any further?”

“Key’s in the planter – ow,” you said reluctantly while rubbing your ankle. With quick strokes of your fingers, you brushed your hair back where it belonged. If you had to suffer through the disgusting patriarchal ceremony of being saved by a man, you were going to be a cute damsel in distress, dammit!

“It’s a unique second date, Sugar,” Sy chuckled as he waited next to you in the uncomfortable chairs of the doctor’s office, “I’ll give you that.”

“Funny, Sy,” you scoffed. This man got on your nerves more than you cared to admit. You didn’t need to be here, at all. You’d just twisted your ankle. If you went to the doctor for this back home, he’d have told you you’d just twisted your ankle. And to take two paracetamol every four hours for the pain. Sy wouldn’t accept that for an answer, however, so here you were. Luckily, not too many people had gotten hurt in this small town today, and you were out of there in about thirty minutes. With – how predictable – the message that it was just a twisted ankle, and to come back in a week if the pain didn’t go away. No mention of paracetamol.

“Coffee?” Sy said, offering you his arm for support while you limped back to the car.

“But we’ve got to make it a quick one,” you sighed, “I have some stuff at home to take care of. Do you happen to know a decent plumber around here?” He’d lived here for years, he had to know someone, right?

“I can take a look at it when I drop you back off, if that’s alright?” It was a kind offer. Then why did it piss you off so much?

“It’s alright, Sy, I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not saying you need my help, Sugar.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and you could tell he was doing everything he could to not allow it to break through completely. “I’m offering to help you. That’s two different things.”

Why, Lara, you thought, why do you have to be like this? “It’s not. I’m not some helpless little girl who needs a man to save her, or open doors or…”

“If you think I treat you the way I do because I think you’re weak or helpless, you’re wrong.” Sy said through gritted teeth. He looked really angry – and he had a right to be pissed. “I’m not going to beg you to let me help you, Sugar. Hell, if I didn’t like you the way I did, I probably wouldn’t be offering again.”

“Girl! Was that Sy who just drove off?” Julie’s curious face appeared in your kitchen right when you were getting ready to make your first cup of coffee in this house using tap water.

“It was, he fixed my pipes.” Fuck. Shouldn’t have said that. Not like that, anyway.

“I bet he d- “

“Jules.” You made no effort to hide your annoyance. Allowing Sy to help you while you just stood there and did nothing had put you on edge.

“Alright, anyway. I was stopping by to ask how that date went but… Girl, why are you limping?” Her eyes opened comically wide, only feeding your irritation.

“Jules!”

“Jezus Christ, tell me what happened, maybe?” She sank down in one of your kitchen chairs – uninvited and with a very dramatic sigh.

“You haven’t even given me the chance!” Without asking you poured her a cup of coffee too and basically slammed it down in front of her. Coffee should have spilled, but apparently luck was on your side for a change.

“Girl, spill!” It took you three minutes to give her the rundown of what had happened the night before, and the bonus events of this morning.

“He really likes you,” Julie said as she finished her coffee.

“How do you know?”

“First of all,” oh god, this was going to be a lecture, “he literally calls you the next morning. Lara, you are the only person on this planet who will not take that as a goddamn hint!” She shook her cup, asking you for more coffee.

“Second, acts of service are like this man’s number one love language,” Julie continued, “or maybe second. If he starts being touchy with you, you’re golden.” Oh, how you wished…

[ramenwithbroccoli]

‼️ for both Janka and Giewont but can you tell me everything actually . Everything ever about them ever pretty please 🙏🙏🙏

my friend you unleashed the waterfall of words that the world may not be prepared for: i'm about to get into their origins. so i'm putting it under the cut so the people who follow me won't get the urge to follow me home (to murder me for putting it on their dash).

ALRIGHT SO

Giewont is obviously based on literature, but i was aiming for that 20-year window inbetween wars, when art and technology was buzzing, squished between just regained independence and the oncoming war. she is based on the glass houses from "the spring to come" which was released around 1925, so it only makes sense. glass houses were an utopian vision - a lie that was told to the book character, Cezary Baryka, by his father, to convince him to come back to the country. they were beautiful, cheaply made and hygenic - but also not real, as he realised when crossing the border. they were the symbol of ideas and plans that may never be finished, a technological revolution that wouldn't arrive. that's why Giewont is broken - because the plans had chances to work, but not like this.

you see, the thing is - this COULD'VE worked. at first everything was perfect - they've been working as much as three men and didn't need much to get by. but when they started to break, instead of being provided with help or assigned with lighter task, she's ordered to dig. her body deteriorates even more. when they're trying to save the farm owner's daughter she cares about but injures her instead, they're the one to be blamed. and only after they've been almost killed and brought back to life do they lose trust in humanity.

because it all could've worked, was it not for all the greed and uncaring attitudes of people who didn't deem her equal, not organic enough to deserve rest. and that's why she has blood on her hands - and some blood in them, as well, that got trapped inside her when the lightning sealed her pieces anew.

that being said, she doesn't hate people. they've expirienced kindness. they've learnt a lot. but trusting people doesn't come back that easily. they're not afraid of authority anymore, letting the kindness towards other guide them, but not shying away from being the one to serve justice to those who deserved it.

Janka, on the other hand, is deeply scared of not being useful or entertaining. as a record player, she was kept around for that one function - entertainment. as she's not able to walk away or speak out against someone, she just tries to please everyone and be in their good graces to not end up in a crowded antique shop. when situation gets really bad, she has to try... different techniques (as trying to drive a man to madness so he would be taken away).

ALSO she's based on that one song from 1930s that i don't think has an official title (it's titled "and i'm playing on my gramophone" but i've also seen verisons called "gramophonomaniac") by Mieczysław Fogg. since it's in polish it's not that accessible to everyone, and i don't think there are any translations (which is a shame, because it's quite a nice song). so, i took matters into my own hands! i was originally planning to make an english cover, but because the recording is really old there are no versions without vocals and also my singing voice is not that great. but - maybe someday i will be able to do that :]

in the meantime - here's "and i'm playing on my gramophone" (i will post the music below, i'd recommend giving it a listen while reading along :] )

in dear miss Janka's dwelling the noise is quite compelling it makes walls and floors almost shake and groan. that's because she's a lover of technologic wonder - she plays music on gramophone. miss janka is intrested in syrena's records she spends all of her money on it and she sings like that: that's why on my gramophone I'm playing. tra-li-tra-la la la, tra-li-tra-la la la when it's hot or cold, through winter and spring, through nights and through the days gramophone plays, and i don't care for nothing, i've got my records here, when something angers me, my gramophone's always near, because when my gramophone plays dearly, then in my gramophone, i have it all. and all those neighbours of hers, their wives and pets and lovers, proclaimed then, not knowing a day of peace: "we've had enough of playing and Janka's disobeying, we need to inform the police." but when policemen came, miss Janka told them kindly "what else to do, when i so fear to sleep here all alone?" that's why on my gramophone I'm playing, tra-li-tra-la la la, tra-li-tra-la la la when it's hot or cold, through winter and spring, through nights and through the days gramophone plays, and i don't care for nothing, i've got my records here, when something angers me, my gramophone's always near, because when my gramophone plays dearly then in my gramophone, i have it all when she proclaimed this fable, the strict mr constable in hopes that this story would not repeat, he came up with an offer, which he deemed right and proper, he said "well, right here i shall sleep". and then each night you could hear right from Janka's room a crashing boom of voice as the constable sang like that: that's why on my gramophone I'm playing, tra-li-tra-la la la, tra-li-tra-la la la when it's hot or cold, through winter and spring, through nights and through the days gramophone plays and i don't care for nothing, i've got my records here, when something angers me, my gramophone's always near, because when my gramophone plays dearly then in my gramophone, i have it all

so yeah if you get through all of that i'm giving you a gold star 🌟 (YAAAY). and if you didn't, then you won't see this anyways but. it's alright :]

[thephantomcasebook]

Hii ,Can you tell me about A+C= D theory

This whole theory interests me a lot. I'm really curious, I want to know your genuine take on why you think that ?

Alicent+Criston=Daeron?

Alright

So ..

Exhibit 1, my dear Watson!

Look at the placement of Daeron compared to his siblings.

If you observe closely, Watson, you see that Daeron is not only purposefully kept apart from the rest of his siblings, but that there is a clear spot in which a fourth space is set aside where he might have been placed, however, he is, instead, kept the furthest from Viserys blood along with with Aemond.

This is two fold.

For as you can clearly see, the Greens are not organized by age, with Helaena being on the far left - recieving more Viserys blood than Alicent's. Aegon being at the center - directly receiving the maximum mingling blood of Alicent and Viserys. And both Aemond and Daeron - especially Daeron - getting almost a direct tap from Alicent's symbol.

It here, Doctor, that I summarize that the Greens are organized, not by age, but, indeed, by who is closer to Alicent. We see Helaena furthermost from her mother, because, she and Alicent are not close or even alike. Aegon is trapped in the center between both his parents, because, he is torn and conflicted by his strained relationship with both ... which is why he is further back. And we see that both Daeron and Aemond are almost straightly aligned with Alicent - with Daeron being right beneath her, showing that both her youngest children are almost simpatico with their mother - the inner sanctum of Alicent's world.

But this puzzling case does not stop there my dear fellow!

Observe the laylines of life chap and you see that the blood that activates Daeron's dial is not coming from viserys but from Alicent and Alicent alone. Also, observe how directly he is underneath his mother, set apart from his clearly Targaryen sister and brothers.

Might I turn your attention to this family line chart given to media outlets before the show came out.

If you observe, sir, the white circle drawn around Viserys and Rhaenyra, notice the single line, directly under the parent. The exact same parallel like Alicent and Daeron above. In which Daeron is kept adjacent to his siblings but seperate, directly under his mother and receiving only her blood.

(Yes, I know Daeron is also on this family tree - however this was issued right after Spotchnik was fired ... who tried to cut out Daeron entirely. Also, you're not gonna drop a bombshell revelation in promo material ... especally with a character not even mentioned in Season 1.)

Exhibit B

"To have one child like that is a mistake ... to have three is an insult!"

Alicent Hightower

To summarize - Watson, Lestrade.

Let us look at the facts.

We have a character that exists but is not mentioned the entire first season.

His first onscreen acknowledgement is a dial of the Hightower of Oldtown, set directly underneath his mother, receiving exclusively her own blood. Kept adjacent put a apart from his other siblings despite a fourth spot being kept open where he should be.

And might I be so bold ...

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

And the only man with the means and motive to commit this treasonous act for the glory of love is ...

SER CRISTON COLE!

The devoted sworn shield, spending every waking hour with his sainted queen, his redemption, and his purpose! Queen Alicent, alone, vulnerable, without an ally! Her only companion, her only friend, surrogate father to her children! And conveniently her first love! The man that Rhaenyra knew she was in love with and spoiled anyway! Tainted, used, dishonored! The only way to save the only man she ever loved, to restore his honor, his purity! Is to absolve him of his sin! To lie down with him, to make love! To reshape, to be reborn from the betrayal they both faced! To have their old selves die embraced, given to the sins that taint them! So the act of love might purify their tainted souls!

Do you deny it, sir!

...

Anyway.

I'm actually more of a fan of never actually answering the question. I'd love for people to always squint at the character who looks too much like Alicent to really be sure. He moves like Criston in battle ... but is that genetics or because he was his squire and student? He can ride Tessarion! But ... Nettles can ride a dragon too, and she has no dragon blood either. His hair is like Criston's! But Alicent's mother was Dornish ... and they say that Daeron looks like his grandmother. (This Last Point is Just an Example not Cannon)

I like the ambiguity of it ... why did Alicent send him away? Was it because he went to join the coalition army to fight on the Stepstones with his uncle and Tessarion? Or was it because, people were starting to notice how much like Criston Cole he was starting look and act like?

My blog is littered with a ton of headcannons and ideas for A+C=D and how to handle and explain Daeron in the show.

[fallenrayvens]

Hey, so…

I was looking through the manga again (searching for something else entirely) when I came by the flashback in which Sebastian, the dog, tries to save o!Ciel. I found it interesting the way that happened, so I’m going to leave my thoughts here. It’s nothing consistent, I haven’t written anything before posting this. I literally saw it again and decide to ramble on the hellsite. That said.

Here’s how the O!Ciel finds Sebastian, the dog, in the middle of the Phantomhive manor attack:

After waiting for a long time for his brother who told him he was going to investigate why nobody has showed up to pick them up to their birthday celebrations, O!Ciel decides that things are too weird and he doesn’t want to wait alone in their room, so he leaves to look for his brother and anybody, really.

He doesn’t find anybody, though. He’s all alone, it seems, and the house is terribly silent.

That is until he catches someone desperately scratching and banging behind a closed door. He’s terrified, but gets worried about whoever might be there and opens it.

He opens it and out jumps Sebastian, the family dog. Scared and alone trapped in a room just like he was, with the added bonus that he’s also restrained.

The dog who’s been, at his words, bullying him since it stepped into their home. But the boy doesn’t care about that right now.

They are now both terrified, but no longer alone. The boy takes the muzzle off Sebastian, freeing him, and declares he’s no longer scared. Sebastian’s gonna protect him now.

The dog stops him, tho. It pulls on his clothes as to stop him from moving, and O!Ciel thinks Sebastian’s “bullying” him again.

He tries to fight against it but it’s useless and he finally falls to the ground, so he whines about the pain and is probably feeling even more desperate before the dog approaches him and licks his face, showing it’s gratitude.

The boy’s confused and surprised. The dog stares back at him, and then decides to move on the other direction, contrary to the one the boy meant to take before he fell, so naturally O!Ciel reads this a lead and follows.

Or tries to, at least.

He loses the dog for a moment because it runs a lot faster than he can, but it barks so it can be found by him. He recognizes the barks as coming from his father’s bedchambers and runs towards the sound.

By the time he gets there, unfortunately, someone has attacked Sebastian, and also both of his parents. The three of them lie dead on the floor of the room where the boy found them.

After this, you know the rest of the tragedy. Sebastian, the dog, tried but wasn’t able to get his master to safety and died on duty. The boy was, once again, all alone.

(No more pics bc mobile hates me)

As I said, I get the vague feeling that just like the beast before him, Sebastian, the demon, will show he genuinely cares about his master in a very tense situation.

I don’t think Yana showed us so much of this dog, who’s the reason why o!Ciel’s demon is called that, for nothing. I think we’re going to see something very similar happening — maybe at the hotel, but probably at the end of the series —, but I at least hope this Sebastian may be able to save the boy.

Will he? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a direct parallel. Maybe he dies on the job and is unable to come back like he said he would. Maybe this time we’ll see O!Ciel scream and demand the butler to get the fuck up and do his job but he won’t be heard. I hope that’s not what happens, but oh would that be some powerful angst.

As I said previously on the tags, I don’t even think Sebastian will give up O!Ciel’s soul. I don’t think he will give up his meal. But I do think he grew to genuinely care about this child (as much as a demon could grow to care about anyone), which will make everything even more tragic when it comes to that. I half expect to see a Sebastian’s flashback of some sort, or a monologue, talking about his master, at the end of the story.

If you read all this nonsense, please feel free to comment about it. I’d love to know if there’s more people who see what I’m seeing here or if I’m just delusional.

I think demon Sebastian will somehow act like dog Sebastian did in the end of the series. I don’t know how exactly. I don’t have anything particularly in mind, but I do think he will show us he’s more than just a hungry beast doing his part of the contract.

[panharmonium]

this is legitimately one of my top five favorite kakashi scenes.

i love seeing kakashi break the rules in the name of doing the right thing, and this scene especially is particularly satisfying to me, because his moment of defiance here is, to my mind, long overdue.  

one of my eternal frustrations in early naruto is how the leaf village administration gives kakashi the job of caring for a group of super high-needs children and then continually makes that job as difficult for him as possible.  they task him with being solely responsible for the development and well-being of three twelve year-olds - a group that includes naruto (a walking disaster with a god’s power trapped inside his body) and sasuke (a genocide survivor fixated on killing his own brother), BOTH of whom are being hunted by different groups of supercriminals - and then the village keeps getting in kakashi’s way or dropping the ball or actively ordering him to prioritize other things.  

so much of what goes wrong with the kids in this period is the result of other people interfering with kakashi’s work or being negligent or endangering the kids/putting kakashi in impossible positions.  team 7’s first big mission sets the tone for everything that comes after, with someone else’s lie putting kakashi in a situation where he has to single-handedly protect not just the client who deceived him, but the three children who were supposed to be the clients’ other protectors.  and after that, the list just multiplies:

ten anbu operatives can’t manage to protect sasuke’s hospital room from orochimaru’s minions, so kakashi has to do it himself and then whisk sasuke out of the village for a month, leaving naruto in the hands of a substitute and sakura with her parents

genma orders sasuke to chase after gaara when the chunin exams blow up, saying “you’re at chunin level already,” which forces kakashi to immediately dispatch more kids to bring him back, because “ffs NO i do NOT want him out there doing that why the fuck would you tell him to do that?!” 

aoba runs his mouth off about itachi when sasuke is standing RIGHT THERE, instantly undoing all the work kakashi just did to prevent itachi and sasuke from coming anywhere near each other (and thus sending sasuke to that disastrous first encounter, the outcome of which ultimately leads to sasuke’s defection)

jiraiya decides he should let sasuke try to fight itachi himself, “out of respect for the boy’s feelings,” leading to sasuke ending up in a tsukuyomi coma

tsunade orders kakashi to drop his teaching work and leave the village on a mission even though a) he’s just gotten out of his own torture-induced coma and b) sasuke is having a crisis that kakashi is trying to manage

and then when kakashi gets back from that mission and finds out that surprise, all of this meddling has led to a disaster, tsunade tries to order him away AGAIN

but this time - he just says no.

he walks right out of her office.  he turns his back on her.  and there is NOTHING i love more than seeing kakashi embody the philosophy that he’s chosen to adopt as his guiding light: those who break the rules are scum.  but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.

it’s not that he doesn’t understand where tsunade is coming from here.  but he knows she’s wrong.  she’s making her decisions based solely on concerns about the Leaf Village being in a tight spot - feeling like they can’t turn down missions because they’ll appear weak and thus become vulnerable to attack when they’re already operating at half strength.  she sends a group of twelve year-olds to bring sasuke back because supposedly the village can’t spare anyone else, “even if it means letting the sharingan fall into orochimaru’s hands” - but like.  it’s not the sharingan.  it’s a child.  sasuke isn’t just a repository for his hereditary jutsu; he’s not a pair of eyes to be passed around from one wielder to the next.  he’s a human child.  

tsunade doesn’t know sasuke.  she’s new to the situation and doesn’t know enough about it to understand how serious it is.  i don’t even think she was still in the village when the uchiha massacre occurred; the timeline makes it sound like she left long before that.  she doesn’t really understand who sasuke is or how much trouble he’s in - she makes her decision because she feels like her first priority has to be the well-being of the Leaf as a whole, not the individual people who comprise it.  kakashi, though, who a) lives his life by a very different philosophy and b) does understand sasuke’s situation, would not have dealt with the issue like this, and if the village had let him do his job from the beginning, things wouldn’t have gotten to this point in the first place.

kakashi is horrified that tsunade sent a bunch of twelve year-olds out to fight orochimaru’s ninja, and i think he’s also probably angry and/or frustrated about having been ordered out of the village in the first place.  he was dealing with the situation before tsunade sent him away.  he interrupted the fight between sasuke and naruto even though he himself had literally just gotten out of the hospital, and then he continued addressing the issue with sasuke privately (unlike jiraiya’s non-attempt to address it with naruto, when he said he was going to give naruto a talking-to but actually flaked out).  kakashi knew sasuke was struggling, and he was doing all the things a teacher is supposed to do to address it, but then he was ordered away, and even though it was just for two days, it was enough time for everything to go to hell.

if people would just let him do his job - if the administration would let him focus on the task they themselves assigned to him - things would be different.  but everybody wants him to do everything.  they want him to be everywhere.  they want him to protect the nine-tails jinchuriki (who is also kakashi’s dead teacher’s son), and train the last surviving uchiha (which is a task only kakashi and his sharingan can perform), and give equal attention to a third kid, for good measure, and they want him to do it without stepping away from any of his other burdens, all while other people around him constantly frustrate the progress he makes.

so this time, when tsunade tries to send him away, he refuses.  he disobeys her orders and walks out of the room.  he doesn’t care about the rules or what he’s “legally” obligated to do.  he knows what the RIGHT thing to do is, and so he rejects his new mission in favor of rescuing the kids.

i love these moments.  i love when we’re shown so clearly the person kakashi has chosen to be - someone who does what’s right, not just what he’s told.  he made an active choice many years ago to adopt that philosophy, and he’s been living by those new rules ever since.  he's wiser now than he was when he was a child - sometimes you have to break ranks to do the right thing.  sometimes you have to buck the system, even if it means you might face severe personal consequences.

he had one of two choices: either save the mission or his comrades.  of course, according to the law of the village, you cannot abandon a mission.  but to save the life of his comrades, he put the mission on hold.

kakashi may have spent a good chunk of his childhood trying to reject everything the subject of that story stood for, but none of his attempts to harden his heart ever stuck.  he is, in the end, his father’s son.

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They find out your father is an abusive alcoholic

WARNING: ABUSE AND VIOLENCE

Jin

You stirred the vegetables in the pan, trying to cook yourself some lunch but your mind was elsewhere. You had spend the weekend at your parents', although you regretted it now. Nothing had changed; certainly not your father, who still used your mom as a punching bag every once in a while. With your short return, you took on her role. A part of you was glad that you could take the anger in your mom's stead, but most of you was furious, furious but desperate and weak.

"Princess, what are you doing?" asked your boyfriend, waking you up from your thoughts. You looked at him, not even comprehending what he said. He took the pan out of your hands and turned off the cooker as you did not even notice you had burned the vegetables.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." you shook your head, unable to get a hold of your own attention. Your eyes were glassy and the thoughts behind them floated far far away.

"What's wrong, princess?" asked Jin.

"Nothing," you murmured, locking your arms around Jin as you leaned your head against his broad chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, but still you couldn't possibly bring yourself to think of anything else but how to save your mom from your abusive father. There was a conscious part of you that knew she would have to take the decision to leave him on her own, that no amount of your persuasion could do it. Yet you also knew that if she had not had the courage to do it in the past twenty-something years, she wasn't going to leave him now either.

"What's that?" questioned your boyfriend as he brushed the hair from your neck.

"Huh?" you rose your head lazily.

"Did that happen while you were at home?" he asked abhorred and enraged, inspecting the fingerprint bruising on your neck. He knew there was no other place he'd let you go on your own. What more, some of his men were ordered to keep an eye on you during the weekend and you had not left the house other than to sit in the garden.

"W-what?" you stuttered. Suddenly, you were on high alert, worried that you had said some of your thoughts aloud. You followed Jin's piercing stare and felt your neck where he was staring at. You winced at your own touch, your eyes widening. A bruise.

It had not showed this morning in front of the mirror so you thought it would not appear at all.

"I-It's nothing," you lied, "I just... I-I..." you tried to think of something but what could have possibly happened to you that would leave fingerprints on your neck.

"Princess, don't lie to me," Jin gritted through his teeth and trapped you against the sink with his long arms. You had never seen him this angry before. The look in his eyes was that of rage, his hands nearly shaking with anger.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded, propping up your chin. You looked at him with pleading eyes, trying not to blink or the tears would slip down your cheeks.

"If I tell you," you began in a voice so small, it was barely coherent, "You can't hurt him, okay?"

Jin scoffed a grin, staring at you with a look of absolute madness. "You're not serious, princess," he spat darkly, "I'll be doing no such thing and you'll tell me anyway."

You knew your boyfriend well enough to know there was no changing his mind. The state of rage he was in could not be soothed, not even by your touch. Someone hurt his girl, his princess. And Jin's hunger for their suffering was insatiable.

"Jin..."

"The truth, princess," he repeated for the last time, defeating you on the spot. You brushed the tears from your eyes, although they kept on falling. You told him the truth. You explained everything from beginning to the end, your voice cracking now and again.

"You should have told me sooner," said Jin once you finished, tucking a piece of your loose hair behind your ear. He brushed the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, doing his very best to keep himself from snapping in utter fury. But the sight of you and the pain you had struggled to carry yourself forced him to control himself.

He usually preferred his men to do the dirty work in his stead because of the blood that got on his clothes and hands scared you. Yet this was going to be one of the very special occasions that Jin will take care of himself - and enjoy it immensely.

Namjoon

You had been applying makeup to your face for the past forty-five minutes since you returned home from a trip to your parents' place. A dark red mark resided on your cheek, a purple patch the size of almond forming just above your cheekbone. But no matter how much foundation, how much concealer and bronzer you applied, the forming bruise did not stay hidden.

Your hands were shaking as you checked the time on your phone, knowing your boyfriend should arrive home any minute. The sound of his footsteps forewarned you of his return.

"Wait, don't come in!" you called, slamming the doors close whilst realizing at the very same moment that that was the worst thing you could have possibly done.

"I'm sorry," you apologized immediately, "Please just... wait a moment..."

You hurried to apply some more concealer but the door opened slowly, Namjoon knocking. He leaned against the doorframe with a small grin on his lips.

"Did I forget about a date?" he asked playfully as he watched you put on make up. The bruised side of your face was turned away from him. For a moment, you felt like you could hide it from him yet the second you thought of that, Namjoon was already frowning.

He entered the bathroom, gently turning your chin to face him.

"What's this?" he asked confused, rubbing his thumb across the purple-red mark forcing through the makeup. A tan patch of concealer remained on his fingertip as you winced away, unable to hold back a whimper. It hurt even to touch it with the foundation sponge, what more his touch, although gentle.

His chest dropped at the realization, eyebrows coming together as his jaw clenched.

"Baby, who did this to you?" he asked, the tone of his voice darkening severely. You bit your lip and shook your head, looking down.

"Baby?" he asked again, this time more gently.

"I can't tell you," you whispered through your tears, shaking your head again. Namjoon cupped your cheeks, having you look up at him.

"Why not?"

"B-because I... I know w-what you'll do..." you stuttered, tears streaming down you cheeks.

"What will I do, baby?"

"You... You'll kill him," you whispered, your chin quivering as you shut your eyes.

"If I promise not to kill him, will you tell me?"

You looked into your boyfriend's eyes, not believing he would do such a thing. But he was completely serious. You nodded and bit your lip.

"I promise," he vowed, kissing you softly. You nodded and told him everything. How your dad spiralled out of control every time he had a drink, how he hurt your mom at first and then turned to you when that was not enough for him.

Namjoon had you wash off your makeup and apply some ointment instead. He held you close until you fell asleep, then quietly left the apartment.

***

"So, you're the sick fuck that likes to hurt girls?" asked Namjoon darkly. He was leaning against the wall as your father stumbled from the bar. He could barely raise his drunken gaze.

"What the fuck-" began your father but Namjoon's brass knuckles broke through his face. He rained down a storm on him, leaving him unrecognizable. He left your father with a threat on his lips - another promise: he will beg to die if he is ever seen near you or your family again. He will keep him alive tho, just to keep his promise to you.

Yoongi

"Baby..." you said slowly.

Yoongi rose his head from his phone, not quite used to you calling him nicknames. He had learned that when you did, there was definitely something wrong.

"At work... Sometimes... Do people pay you to hurt others?" you asked in a small voice, keeping your eyes on your hands. Yoongi remained silent, forcing you to face him. His brows were furrowed into a frightening frown as he watched you closely.

"We're not talking about my work, Y/N," he spoke lowly, leaving no room for arguments but you couldn't help yourself. Your chest hurt from so much anxiety and sadness.

"W-w-" you began, not getting out a single word. Your voice was about to crack and it was the last thing you wanted. Swallowing down your tears, you spoke again, "What... W-what if I were the c-customer?"

You dared glance at your boyfriend sitting on the sofa across from you yet immediately regretted doing so. His eyes were narrowed at you mercilessly. Thoughts stormed behind his ink-black irises when he got up, making you wince. You looked down immediately, your stomach twisting into knots as your eyes filled with hot tears.

Yoongi knelt in front of your armchair. "Jagi, do you have something to tell me?"

You remained silent, holding in your pain.

"Y/N?" Yoongi spoke more softly, trying to get you to look him in the eye by gently caressing your cheek. Yet the moment your gazes met, all the pain and the fear came tumbling down inside of your chest and mind. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, clutching your arms around your tummy.

"Jagi... Y/N, what's going on?" he asked again, his hand holding your delicate body against him. You showed him the bruises on your body from your weekend visit to your parents', explaining how your father had had a long history of alcohol abuse. Although he was perfectly alright when sober, your father turned into a raging beast whenever drunk. Not only did he hurt you, but your mom as well. She was the main reason you wanted it all to stop - it had to stop.

Yoongi listened without saying a single word. His head was in a storm but on the outside, he was razor calm.

"You're never going to see him again," he spoke quietly as he wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

True to his word, your mom called you the next day. Your father had gone missing and no one knew where he was, not even his drinking buddies. You observed your boyfriend as he came home the next day, but dared no ask about if he had anything to do with it. Your best guess was that Yoongi or some of his men scared your father and he took off, coward that he was. But you were so deeply mistaken. The man who called himself your father was in for a time of biblical torture until he would be praying for death. Yoongi made sure that your abuser would spent every single day for the rest of his life regretting ever setting a finger on you.

You never saw your father ever again, nor did you ever find out what really happened to him.

Hoseok

"Baby, what are you doing in bed?" asked your boyfriend, finding you in your bedroom at six o'clock in the afternoon. He climbed into bed beside you and kissed your cheek. A wet stain lay on the pillow beneath your eyes, Hoseok doubtlessly noticing. He brushed the hair that stuck to your face, caressing you awake.

You rubbed your eyes, turning to face him. Your chin quivered at the sight of your boyfriend, immediately scooting closer to his chest.

"Oh, baby, don't cry... What happened?" he asked gently, continuing to pet your hair.

"I j-just missed y-you so much," you stuttered, having yearned for the security of his embrace the entire day.

You had visited your mom earlier that day. Her wrist was swollen and her eyes puffy. You father has had another one of his drunken lash-outs and hurt her for telling him to keep the television volume down in the middle of the night. You remembered those days perfectly enough because there was not a time that you could recall when your father was not drunk. You'd get slapped for waking him up, yelled at and called names, things were thrown at you... You escaped him when you met Hoseok, although you never told your boyfriend about your life before. You even lied about it to keep him from worrying and reacting on impulse. But you couldn't help but blame yourself for your mother's state. When you were still living with your parents, you could protect her, take the punches in her stead. But now she was on her own and it was all your fault.

"This can't be just because you missed me," said Hoseok as you quietly sobbed beneath his touch. "Why don't you tell me what's really wrong, hm, baby?"

"M-my mom... s-she got h-hurt," you stuttered, unable to hold it in any longer. You told Hoseok everything.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked softly, although you could feel his chest stiffen in anger.

"I-I don't know," you whispered, "I w-was scared..."

"What were you scared of?" frowned Hoseok.

"Of... of what would happen... of what you'd do..."

"Oh, but sweetie, he doesn't deserve to live," said your boyfriend easily, kissing your forehead. His words made shivers run down your spine, more tears stinging your cheeks.

"What is it, baby?"

"Please don't hurt my family, Hoseok," you cried into his chest, fist clutched around his shirt.

"Don't call him family, Y/N," said Hoseok, his voice lowering with disgust.

"And besides, he hurt you and I'll make him pay for it," he kissed the top of your head lovingly. His voice drifted off into darkness only his mind knew the way around, "So much..."

Jimin

You returned home to Jimin from spending a weekend at your parents' place. Your mom begged you to visit to which you could not say no forever, what more, you truly missed her.

But what your boyfriend did not know was that you had been hiding a secret from him since the two of you met. Your father had been an abusive drunk since before you were even born. He often abused your mother and even you, and yesterday was just one of those terrible days.

It was an early Monday morning when you hung your jacket in the closet upon returning to your apartment. Your side ached each time you moved your arms but it did not bother you. The wooden cutting board in your father's hands would have hit your mother if you had not stepped in front of her.

You let the hot water fill the tub whilst you unpacked your clothes, slowly taking off your blue jeans and sweater. Suddenly you froze in place as you heard your boyfriend's voice coming from the kitchen. You yanked the sweater off the floor and pulled it back on just in time for him to arrive to the bathroom.

He smiled, turning off the water in the bathtub as it was going to spill over the edge, but you did not even notice.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted happily, propped up your chin and kissed you longingly. "I missed you," he whispered into your lips, his hands slipping around your hips. You disappeared beneath his gentle touch, forgetting yourself completely as he began taking off your sweater.

"What is this?" Jimin breathed, looking up into your eyes. Your heart gave a jolt so harsh it nearly jumped from your chest.

"Nothing," you whispered and pulled down your sweater immediately.

"Who the fuck did this to you? I don't even let anyone even get near you!" raged your boyfriend, his eyebrows arching into a terrifying frown.

"Jimin, please, everything's okay, I'm-"

"Don't say you're okay," he threatened, his nostrils flaring. Your chin quivered as your brain worked ways of trying to figure out how to calm him. Flashbacks from the night before drowned your brain, nearly paralyzing you.

"Take off your sweater," he ordered, not blinking a single time.

"Jimin, please," you pleaded as your eyes filled with hot salty tears but he was in no mood to negotiate. It wasn't that you did not want him to see your body, you just did not want him to see what the other side of you life looked like.

You pulled the sweater over your head and dropped it to the floor. Jimin's eyebrows relaxed in shock, lips parting as he took a full look at the massive bruise on your side, just beneath your bra.

"Sweetheart, tell me who did-" insisted Jimin, cutting himself off as he came to the realization on his own. Letting you visit your family was the only place he ever allowed you to go alone, foolishly believing they would take good care of you.

"Your mother or your father?" gritted Jimin through his teeth as he towered over you. Your eyes widened as they shot up to meet his.

"No, Jimin, please, don't hurt them-" you begged.

"Your mother or your father?" he repeated impatiently, his forehead nearly touching your own.

"Jimin-"

"Tell me which or I'll kill them both," he whisper-growled against your lips. He could almost see his own reflection in the pools of tears gathered in your eyes. Every single second of your pain burned within him like red-hot embers of fury.

"M-my... My f-father," you admitted so quietly it was not even a whisper.

"Good girl," said Jimin gently, kissing you forehead. "Take a bath now, sweetheart."

As you sat in the bathtub, a part of you could not help but feel relieved. If not for your own safety, for your mom.

Jimin was sitting on a chair, legs crossed elegantly as he watched you soak. It took him but a phone call to have his men collect your father from one of his usual bars and bring him to Jimin's office. That is where he will deal with him in unspeakable ways of torture after he makes sure you are safe and protected.

Taehyung

"Where are you going, jagi?" asked your boyfriend. You suddenly caught his attention when you mentioned leaving.

"I'm just going to see my mom, I'll be back soon," you promised, about to put on your shoes.

"Why don't I come with you?" suggested Tae, raising from his armchair. He buried his hands in the pockets of his elegant black trousers, catching you off guard with his proposal. You jumped up, eyes widening as you stood frozen.

"Why?" you blurted. Tae to narrowed his eyes at you.

"You know my family, why shouldn't I know yours?" he asked, but in his case, his family were the rest of the members of his mafia.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," you tried to think of something. "Maybe another day, I'm in a hurry."

You were about to grab your car keys, but Tae beat you to it. "Perfect. I'll drive," he spoke deeply, a silver sparkle in his eyes.

Your heart beat wild as a drum the entire way to your parents'. Your lip was raw from chewing on it and your palms warm with sweat. The only thing you could pray for was that your father was either not at home or sober. Tae did not know about your past or where you grew up really. Sometimes you made up innocent lies to hide this part of yourself. A part of you was embarrassed to admit how weak you were compared to your father whilst another was petrified of what Taehyung might do upon finding out that your father was a violent drunk.

He pulled up on the driveway of your parents' house and opened the passenger door for you as always. You squeezed his hand painfully tight as you waited on the doorstep for your mom to open the door. Tae smiled at you, although you kept your gaze on the floor. He thought you were nervous about him meeting your parents for the first time, however the truth was far from it.

"Y/N," greeted your mom upon seeing you, "Who is this?" she nodded at Tae as you never spoke of him to anyone. Your parents simply thought you had moved away to the city on your own.

"This... This..." you began but couldn't get out a full sentence. Tae glanced at you confused, offering his hand in a confident shake.

"My name is Taehyung-"

"He's a friend," you interrupted him, earning an outraged glare from him.

"I'm Y/N's boyfriend," he corrected you eerily and kept his eyes on you as he spoke those words. You looked up at him timidly, nodding at your mom.

"Really? Oh, I wish you'd told me, I would have made lunch," said your mom kindly, letting the both of you in. You stole a glimpse through the kitchen window, noticing your father's car was nowhere to be seen. A breath of relief escaped your lungs as you finally hugged your mom and sat down.

In no more than ten minutes of easy-going small talk between your mom and your boyfriend, the front door slammed open. You jumped in your chair, earning a raised eyebrow from Taehyung.

"Maybe we should go," you said and stood up with Tae's hand in your palm, squeezing it even tighter than earlier. But before you could do anything else, your father stumbled into the room, his blood-shot eyes stopping on you and Taehyung.

"Who the fuck's this?" he dragged his drunken words, the smell of his boozy clothes making you sick. Suddenly, you felt clammy all over, little drops of sweat gathering on your forehead.

"Please let's go," you whispered to your boyfriend, your hand loosening grip on his.

"I said 'Who the fuck's this?'," your father shouted.

Tae pushed you behind him gently and stood in front of you as your father tried to make his way at you.

Tae towered an inch or two above him, studying his features with his undaunting glare. Without having to hear a word from you, all the pieces of the puzzle came together in his mind's eye - why you behaved like you did, why you reacted a certain way, why it took you so long to trust him.

"Jagi, wait in the car," he ordered calmly, not releasing your paralyzed father from beneath his ruthless stare.

"Tae, please come with me," you pleaded, feeling your eyes water with tears.

"I'll be there in a moment, love," he spoke with a voice as dark as night, gesturing his elegant hand towards the door.

You tried to walk past him and your father, but he snapped at you the moment his drunken eyes took a hold of you. You whimpered and jumped away, standing in front of your mom to protect her from the violence. But little did you realize you were not alone anymore. With terrible fury, Taehyung grabbed your father and slammed him against the wall. In his hand rested his slick black gun, the hoof of which ended against your father's face repeatedly.

Awakened from your trans by seeing him lay on the floor bloody and unconscious, you jumped in between him and Tae just as he cocked his gun, ready to shoot him on the spot.

"No!" you cried, pushing your hands against your boyfriend's chest. His eyes widened at your reaction.

"Please don't, please don't, Taehyung," you begged him, tears streaming down your cheeks. For the life of him, he could not understand your reaction. He caught one of your tears with the back of his index finger.

Your forgiveness moved him but it did not make him forgive what had been done to you. He put his gun away and caressed your cheek that leaned against his palm as it were a pillow. He would have your father dealt with later, just not in front of you.

Jungkook

"Jungkook, can you come and get me?" you whispered through your tears, clutching to your mobile phone. You visited your mom but your father came home early, drunk and hungry for violence. He dragged your mom from the sofa and despite your every last effort to get him away from her, you were helpless against his massive frame. When you finally did get to him, he pushed you against the wall. You hit your head, a terrible dizziness overcoming you.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked immediately. The sound of car doors slamming shut echoed from the speaker next to your ear, followed by the roar of an engine.

"No, nothing's wrong," you tried to keep your voice calm, "It's just... I-I just want to go home now..."

"I know you're lying, just tell me, is he in the room with you right now, yes or no?" ordered Jungkook. You wondered how he could know something was wrong.

"N-no, no one is here," you hurried, brushing the tears from your face. "I-it's okay, don't worry... I... I'll just take the bus, don't come," you tried, suddenly seeing all kinds of horrors Jungkook was capable of doing if he knew the truth, but it was already too late, and you had no one else to call for help either.

In no more than fifteen minutes, a car pulled up on your driveway. Your heart gave an anxious squeeze as you heard footsteps outside. Your father was almost passed out on the sofa, yet if you dared to move he was at your throat in less than a second.

Suddenly, the front door burst open, Jungkook storming inside with Jimin on his trail. His eyes found you immediately. He knelt down beside you, inspecting the small cut on your temple.

"Jungkook, don't, " you begged him, already seeing what was going to happen. His brown eyes turned blood-shot from ire and his hands balled into fists.

Your father, who barely got to his feet, started calling you insults in regards to Jungkook, but his fists shut him up instantly. The old man dropped to the floor, his nose bust open bloody. Punches rained down on him as you begged your boyfriend to stop. Your father was past unconscious.

"Get her out," commanded Jungkook, pulling the gun from behind his back. Jimin already took your arms and had to carry you outside because you were fighting his grip so hard.

"J-Jungkook, please don't! Don't! Please!" you shouted your voice hoarse all the way. Just as you reached outside the door, two ear-piercing gunshots were fired from the inside. In an instant, your voice quietened and an eerie silence filled your head before a terrible ringing made you dizzy. You went limp in Jimin's arms, remembering nothing more but waking up in your own apartment.

You didn't let your boyfriend touch you, you didn't speak to him and you rather slept on the sofa than share his bed. All you could do was bathe in the guilt you felt in your father's death. It's your fault, it's all your fault, repeated inside your head. Your eyes stung from so much crying...

The next day, word came from the hospital. Your mom was treated for her wounds and might have died if she had not gotten the care immediately as she did. An enormous weight dropped from your shoulders, making you cry tears of happiness.

A part of you knew your father was a terrible man but another felt betrayed, not by him but by Jungkook. You had begged him not to end his life, yet he did not listen to your pleas. However, if he had not gotten you out of that house, your mom would have been dead and that would have been your fault as well.

It was early morning when you received the phone call from the hospital, telling you about your mom. Brushing away your tears, you could not help but feel grateful. It was over... It was finally over. You could live, your mom was safe, you were free.

You got up from the sofa and made your way to the bedroom and quietly turned the doorknob. Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows against his thighs. His gaze rose to you, astounded to see you there. Without a word, you walked to the opposite side of the bed and climbed in, turning away from your boyfriend.

You had your eyes closed, although you were not asleep. He got up from the bed and walked to your side. Jungkook knelt in front of you. He took your palm and kissed your knuckles, finally able to breathe again when he realized you were starting to forgive him.

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Veritaserum Prompt Fic (Part 11)

Azkaban wasn't great.

It was pretty fucking awful, if Draco was being honest. He kept himself as far back from the bars of the cell as he could, the closer he got, the worse it was when a dementor drifted past.

Maybe the Department of Mysteries was a better alternative to Azkaban. At least when he was trapped there he had the refuge of sleep. Here, even his dreams were tortured; the dementors' presence warped the images of Harry and the cottage, destroying the memories over and over in increasingly horrifying ways.

On the other hand, there was a small slit of a window that let in sunlight. He curled himself into a ball as close to the sunlight as he could and tried to think of his time on the beach, of the sun and the sand, of Harry's warm smile and his hair slipping through his fingers. As long as he focused really hard on it, as long as he didn't fall asleep, he could hold onto a few pieces of beauty at a time.

Draco wasn't sure how long he'd been there when a silver fox patronus came racing through, so bright that the dementors were chased off and Draco could breathe again.

The fox moved through the bars and placed itself between Draco and the door and he couldn't help but where it had come from. The only person he could imagine sending a patronus to him was Harry but everyone knew that Harry Potter's patronus was a stag.

And yet, "I'm getting you out," Harry's voice said through the patronus and Draco's heart stuttered.

He waited for the fox to vanish but the light didn't waver, Harry was still protecting him it seemed, keeping the dementors at bay.

(Read more below the cut)

Nothing changed for six days.

The warden came by multiple times to try to banish the patronus but the fox remained stubbornly at Draco's side. It all felt a bit surreal but Draco certainly wasn't going to complain.

After six days, the reporters started coming. "Mr. Malfoy, I work for the Daily Prophet," the first witch who arrived informed him, "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"I haven't got much else on at the moment," he attempted. "But I'm surprised they let you in."

"Then you underestimate how much influence Harry Potter really has."

"Harry wanted you to come here?" he asked, heart beating a little faster.

She straightened her shoulders and took out her notebook and quill, "Mr. Potter is saying that everything printed about you after your return to Azkaban is a lie. What do you say?"

"I don't know," he replied, "What's been said? I haven't gotten any papers in here, as you might expect."

The witch leaned closer to the bars, as though she was telling him some sort of secret, "He said that you didn't slip him a love potion, you didn't have him under any sort of spell, there was nothing nefarious at play."

"That's correct." But he couldn't imagine that she would believe him, even if he had been using a spell or a potion he would have said the same thing.

Her brow furrowed, "He said you were living on a secluded island before you turned yourself in and that you're in love."

"Yes," he affirmed softly.

"Then why did you leave?"

He sighed, "Because if anyone deserved to live in the wizarding world, it's the person who saved it."

She nodded, "Do you have any idea what's happening in the wizarding world right now?"

"No," he replied flatly, "They don't really let us out to see the world."

"So you're saying that this wasn't all part of some elaborate plan?"

"Sorry, what's going on?" he asked, feeling off kilter and a bit frustrated. "What plan?"

The woman stared at him for a long moment, "Harry Potter seems to be trying to bring the Ministry to its knees," she said. "He started by talking about you, then by telling the story of his godfather's wrongful conviction, and continued to tell story after story about people who've been falsely accused and convicted."

Draco felt like his eyebrows must be reaching his hairline by this point. "No," he shook his head, "No, I had no idea."

"What about the reports on ministry officials?" she asked, ignoring his response and pressing on to the next question. "Your father had a variety of connections, surely you gave him at least some of information about the officials he's blowing in."

He shook his head again, "No, I had nothing to do with that." He chuckled humorlessly, "I was raised to keep secrets until the opportune moment and to use them to apply pressure to get what I wanted."

She hummed, "It seems to me that Mr. Potter is doing exactly that."

------------------

The reporters continued coming. He had multiple visits a day over the next three days and every reporter asked similar questions.

Draco tried to understand what was happening in the wizarding world from the interviews he did, but it was hard to believe that there could be protests and rallies at the Ministry demanding his freedom.

He'd gone to sleep the third night, Harry's fox curled up on the bottom of the flimsy pad, watching the door, only to be awoken by his cell door banging open.

"Up Malfoy," the human guard who worked overnights said.

He startled, sitting up and curving inward to protect himself. "What?"

"Get up," the man barked.

The patronus placed itself between Draco and the other man and Draco's heart started to beat to rapidly.

"Now," he said, grabbing Draco's arm and dragging him out of bed.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked as the man shoved him down the hall and out toward the main entrance.

"Your time is up," the man said, thrusting a dirty shoe into Draco's hands.

Before he could ask anything else, he was being ripped through time and space, and all he could imagine was ending up somewhere even worse. They were probably going to kill him and-

His feet hit the groan and he barely had time to register sand under his feet before arms were wrapped around him, pulling him in and holding him close. The sound of waves crashing to the shore, the scent of the salt water in the air mixed with the comforting scent of Harry's body. He sagged forward, a sob escaping his throat.

"Draco," Harry murmured, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him all over, covering his cheeks, his nose, his lips, his chin, even his eyelids. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" he asked.

He shook his head but couldn't get any words out.

"Come on," Harry whispered, rubbing his hands along Draco's arms, "you're shaking. Let's go inside."

Harry led him by the hand up the beach and into the little cottage, the fire was lit in the hearth and there were two cups of tea sitting on the coffee table, a plate of ginger biscuits in between.

"Do you want to get changed?" Harry asked.

"I-" Draco started before breaking off, "Sorry. What's happening? Harry, how am I here? The guard just gave me this stupid shoe and I don't-"

"The Ministry signed your release paperwork," Harry said. "They wouldn't let me come to get you, they aren't very pleased with me at the moment," he added. "I'm sort of banned from any official Ministry buildings now," he said, sounding oddly pleased.

"What happened?"

Harry looked at him longingly, "Later?" he begged. "Can I just-" he broke off stepping closer and crowding him against the wall, kissing him and crushing their bodies together. Holding him like he didn't care that Draco was smelly and hadn't been allowed to shower since arriving at Azkaban.

"Harry," he groaned, tilting his head back as Harry pressed kisses along his jaw and neck.

"Hmm?"

His fingers tugged Harry's hair until he tipped his head up far enough that he could kiss him again for a long moment. "Am I allowed to stay here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, nodding his head, their noses brushing against each other's. "You can go anywhere, do anything," he added. "We're free."

Draco shuddered as the words washed over him, the relief cool and bright. "Okay," he said. "First things first. I need a shower," he said.

Harry groaned, "Why does that have to be the first thing?"

He laughed, "I'm filthy."

"I don't care," he muttered petulantly.

"Come with me," Draco invited.

Harry pulled back far enough to wiggle his eyebrows, "I'll do my best."

--------------------

Later, after they'd showered off all of the dirt and grime, erasing all physical evidence of the week and a half they'd spent apart. After Harry had taken Draco apart; kissing him and touching him, healing all of the darkness that the prison had left seeped in his bones. After they'd eaten dinner curled up on the sofa together and drunk the tea he'd made and ate far too many biscuits. After they'd stumbled together through the house and crawled into bed. After Harry had laid him bare once more and kissed every inch of him, as though Draco was something treasured, something precious. Draco began to cry again.

"Hey," Harry whispered, moving back to the top of the bed where he kissed away Draco's tears, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

He grabbed his shoulders and pulled his body down on top of him, allowing the familiar, welcome weight of his body to ground him. "I love you," he whispered through all of the emotions swamping him.

"I love you, too," Harry murmured, stroking his hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So much."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Why do I love you?" he asked, sounding surprised by the questions.

Shaking his head he replied, "Why did the Ministry let me go? Why would they do that?"

Harry sighed and nuzzled into Draco's neck, "Because I know their secrets."

"What?"

He shrugged, "I did some digging when I had access to the Department of Mysteries information," he said in between kisses pressed to his neck, "so I just started exposing corruption that I'd found. People wanted to listen to what I had to say so I told them. Then people started protesting and here we are."

"So you blackmailed the Ministry into releasing me?"

Harry hummed, "Not really. I just helped the Ministry to see the error of their ways and be held accountable for the ways they've failed the people they were supposed to protect and serve."

"I can't believe you."

"Hmm?" Harry hummed, brushing his nose over Draco's collarbone.

"I can't believe you did that," he said. "How dare you have the audacity to love me that much?"

"Me?" Harry gasped, jerking up onto his elbows and looking at Draco like he was actually offended by Draco's words. "How dare I? What about you?" he exclaimed. "Draco you loved me so much that you were willing to go to prison for the rest of your life!"

"But you deserve to be loved that much," he protested.

"So do you!" Harry sat up, straddling his hips and glaring down at him. "I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you," he added. "If you'll let me."

He cupped Harry's cheek in his palm, "I'll let you. I haven't got another brave bone in my body."

"Good," Harry said. "Because I'm sick to death of people and their invasive questions. And if I never have to talk to a member of the press again it will be too soon. And I'm tired of having to protect myself from the ministry and playing their games," he grumbled.

He buried his face in Draco's neck again and Draco let his fingers stroke through Harry's still damp curls, heedless of the way it would make them frizzy.

"I hate everyone who isn't you," Harry mumbled.

"Well not everyone, I hope," Draco replied as he rubbed a lock of hair between his fingers, "I went through a lot of trouble to make it possible for you to be with your friends and family whenever you want," he teased.

Harry huffed a laugh, "It's ridiculous that you're making a joke about this right now. I have never been more terrified in my life."

"Oh come on," Draco said, "You literally died."

"I had a panic attack," Harry said, "When I thought I'd never see you again. I walked straight to my death without a backward glance." He pressed impossibly closer, "When I tell you I've never been more terrified in my life, I mean it."

"Harry," he murmured, awestruck.

The other man yawned and snuggled in. "But it's fine now," he said. "You're here and I'm here, and the Ministry is burning."

"Do we need to go back?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head, "Hermione's taking care of it. She has better legal avenues and it's honestly more her thing than mine anyway."

"We can stay here for a while, then?"

"In bed?" Harry asked sleepily.

He chuckled, "On the island," he clarified.

Harry nodded, "as long as you want. Everything's on fire in Wizarding London anyway, it's a complete shit show. They wouldn't give us a moment's peace."

"I'd like a little peace," Draco replied.

He felt Harry's smile against his shoulder, "A little peace," he echoed. "A little happiness."

"More than a little, if we're lucky."

Harry nodded, "We're due for a bit of luck, aren't we?"

He pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, "I don't need luck when I've got you."

And no matter what life threw at them, they knew how to weather the storm; clinging to one another and the life they built on their love.

--------------

fin. I'm having a hard time letting go of this one but I can't look at it for another moment. <3 Thanks for joining me for the adventure of writing this one.

(Part 10)