#cannot wait to see 4 in action let me tell you

[mo-ok]

various insects and small vertebrates

[coffeegnomee]

Will we get a 3rd tell-all from spoke or vi about what really happened in the wormhole? Does it even matter?

Because Spoke's video haunts me in the deep, deep regret that he has towards his actions in s4, particularly during the dupe war. The purpose of the video being the tell-all of his actions against Mapicc and against Parrot.

How he ignored his friendship with Mapicc in favor of bullying his way to getting the ending he wanted, even saying in the present day voiceover: 56:55 SPOKE: "eventually after the amount of threats and pressure I put on my friend, he gave up"

Friend. singular. Even though Zam and (presumably) vortex were also in that call.

And how he abused his friendship with Parrot, creating a team that at every single moment was a lie.

Spoke did a lot of fucked up shit in the wormhole, told a lot of lies, abused friendships. And now, ooc, Spoke had realized just how fucked that was. He knew, from knowing his own mind, that the nppp was nothing. At every step it was a desperate and delicate dance to get parrot in the right position to click a sign and not try and stop them after.

But you actually just straight up cannot watch the nppp story and not be convinced that Spoke loved that team just as much. The hours spent streaming together, the three seasons of friendship, the declarations that it was all for the team, all for Parrot, even in the end in the last moments of the server.

In Character, if not also as a cc, Spoke did care about that team. He cared about Parrot. And if anything it made the guilt of what he had done to him hurt all the more.

And when Parrot says, I didn't use exploits because I would rather let the team down than the server down, Spoke had no response, still has no response other than putting on pants, yelling fuck it, op-ing vi, and jumping into the void.

His only response now was that he did it all because it felt like he was doing the impossible, ending the video seconds later, but not before giving a reminder that uu s1 is ending. Implying he has nothing else to do but that he did s4 because it was the impossible. Ominous stuff for the fate of s6 if I may be so bold.

But i digress. The whole first half of the video is an apology note to Parrot and Mapicc and a cautionary tale to the viewers.

And then we get to Vitalasy. Because what this is Not, is any of that for him.

What is interesting to me, and I can't stop thinking about it, is just how many On Screen Vi and Spoke interactions late s4 were just written out of Spoke's video completely. Scenes that were streamed by others, things that I have wondered about why the two of them would be interacting that way:

(wait. tiny aside. Spoke said thanks to his brother for recording the Planet wormhole stream, implying he wouldn't have it otherwise. does he not know about the archive?)

The day (4/16/23) Spoke and co tried to chunk ban vitalasy while mapicc was live. Spoke teleported up to the prison after Vi respawned (giving him an echest?) and then tried to cover it up when mapicc said he could see him up there.

The next day (4/17/23) Spoke standing on the impromptu risers looking down at a weak vitalasy who had just burned all his exploits form his enderchest saying there is only one player who knows how to do the wormhole glitch and he's done doing that.

The times (5/7/23) where Spoke (and Mapicc) were annoying Vi while Vi and Zam were trying to have their conversations on Subz's islands. (5/3/23) Vi looking down at Spoke and saying how much he hates him while Zam tries reconciling with Vi to complete his flower circle.

This being, ironically, the impetus for Zam thinking they were still working together because they were being too obvious in how much they hated each other.

Zam was right about them working together, in Vi's first wormhole finale video (Using Exploits to Fight Admin Abuse) right in the last seconds Vi flashes up DMs he sent about how the wormhole would open with the cc's joining and ending with:

Sent three days after his dramatic burning of exploits and self-ban.

But Spoke didn't get op until May 1, 10 days after that Vi DM.

Which was just a few days before those two last streams (5/3 and 5/7) where they seemed to be more antagonistic than before.

Of course, Spoke's video now says Vi did ask for op, but he denied him. And says "there's more that happened but that would take to long to explain".

What we got was, ominously, the happy ending where nothing confusing happened at all. In the same video where he says the last happy ending where nothing confusing happened at all was a coverup for what actually happened.

So what the hell happened.

We will never know. And probably for good reason bc it's giving private stuff with how much it's not talked about. And they hardly need to clear the air on any of that.

But Spoke's paranoia was running deep by the end of the wormhole, so it's understandable that he wouldn't give anyone op. Anyone with op could op anyone else.

And he was keeping tight control over everything, and here I go with havoc duo dramatics, but after betraying their three years of friendship, Spoke promised to make a good ending, not let any of the exploits get out, to keep everything safe.

He says in his video he said all of that to make Parrot think that they were unstoppable, and as blackmail that if Parrot leaked anything Spoke could go back on that promise and release all the exploits to all the players.

But something that has always made me love Spoke's wormhole is how balanced he made it. It was scuffed, sure, but Spoke had infinite power and no matter how much he says restraint was hard, he had a hell of a lot of restraint. You only need to watch one Skeppy video destroying my friend's server to know how stupid getting creative mode can make you.

Even though he had abused his friendship with Parrot, he cared so deeply about him that he didn't want to actually destroy their friendship. Well aware that Parrot could just ban him off lifesteal entirely, like the discord and everything, he made sure the ending was balanced enough to make a good story.

Which is all Parrot ever wants. There's a haunting moment at the end of season 3 where Zam tries to get Parrot to give him the hearts Tubbo had collected and Parrot refuses because he wants "the biggest bang for my buck"; he wants the chaos, he wants the interesting plot, he craves the adrenaline.

Call it fear of repercussions, call it love of his friend, call it both. But Spoke prioritized Parrot and prioritized making an interesting story for Parrot over everyone. everyone. else.

Over Vitalasy, screwing his plot over and refusing op until the last seconds. Doing, truly who knows what, to keep control of the wormhole only in his own hands and not with Vi (or Subz).

Over Mapicc (and Zam), screwing his plot over and planning to end the server in peace with Parrot if Parrot won the wormhole. I went back and watched zam's "Night of the End" vod and Mapicc confronts Spoke about betraying them to Parrot and potentially leaking the control room to him if they won the wormhole, which Mapicc is not happy about. And Spoke weaves a web of lies and deflection to make them think he won't do that. Even as he is literally doing that. Once again manipulating Mapicc just like he did in the dupe war, but not mentioning it in the video just as he didn't mention Vi in the second half.

And he even screwed over Ro too, refusing to let him on the team (though mapicc was also involved in that decision iirc) taking it as too great a risk to getting this balanced ending he wanted.

This balanced ending that, despite all the exploits, heavily favored Parrot winning. The balancing gave them a slow decent into loosing, Spoke could have brought out the OP items earlier, his red chestplate, or banned hearts earlier, or so many things. But instead he made it as close as possible. They won by 18 seconds. The balancing made it a damn good story. But in the end, he showed them the control room anyway. He wanted to loose. Call it guilt over abusing the server all season, call it fairness that evil should loose, call it love for the server. At the end of the day,

Nobody mattered more than Parrot.

[tgmsunmontue]

You put a ring on a wild thing - 6/? WIP Hangster

Affectionately titled "Drunk Vegas" fic until I gave it the title above. Likely going to be around 4-5 parts (I say optimistically).

Explicit Hangster. Drinking and dubious decisions and complete disregard for actual facts.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

PART SIX – AN INTERLUDE (five other points of view)

JAVY

                “Bradshaw!”

                “Uh. Yeah. Machado right?”

                “Yep. Hear you met my brother Jake in Vegas…”

                “Uh…” Bradshaw is looking at him with the definition of deer in headlights and Javy laughs, slaps him on the arm, realizes he’s taken Javy literally.

                “Brother from another mother man, I ain’t his twin. He’s already got one of those.”

                “Fuck. I thought there was something Jake hadn’t told me…”

                Javy laughs, it’s weird hearing someone in uniform calling Jake Jake, rather than his callsign, but he supposes that Bradshaw might end up a part of their family, and none of them call Jake by his call sign either.

                “Oh, I bet there’s a whole lot Shaky-Jake hasn’t told you. What do you want to know?”

                “How long have you known him? And his family?”

                “Oh… oh Bradshaw. I know you and Jake were likely too busy with other things to talk, but you mean to say he’s never mentioned me? I’m a little bit hurt. You guys must never come up for air huh?”

                Bradshaw has gone bright red, his neck splotchy with embarrassment and he feels a little sorry for the guy.

                “Sorry, sorry man. Just…We’ve been friends since we were in elementary school, so… you looking for dirt I’ve got truck loads,” Javy chuckles. The wide grin Bradshaw gives him makes him smile in return.

TOM

                Tom looks at the envelope and he feels the cold shiver of trepidation. He knows he would have heard if something bad had happened to Bradley while he was doing something for the Navy. However that leaves so many ways in which something could still happen to him. The envelope contains a change of circumstance, a piece of paper which might tell him that Bradley has died. Or simply moved his home base.

                He shakes himself mentally. Regardless of what is in there his actions cannot change it and he reaches for a letter opener, one with a jet on the end, the jet-stream making the blade to slice the envelope open and he shakes the piece of paper out, steeling himself for the worst. The relief hits him hard, although it’s quickly followed by a whole raft of other emotions.

                Bradley is married.

                Married.

                Oh.

                To a man. One also in the service, and it was a few weeks after the DADT repeal went through, but clearly when Bradley and… he looks at the other name. Jake Seresin. Clearly when their leaves lined up, the two of them obviously arranged to meet in Vegas and get married as soon as possible. He likes the romance of it, feels a little choked up and tries to pretend it’s not because he wasn’t there to see it for himself.

BRADLEY

                Bradley’s been talking to Jake as often as their combined schedules allow. He’s never had a boyfriend before, let alone one who was also in the service. It’s for obvious reasons, DADT being the first, second and third. This sudden freedom, coupled with the fact that he has someone, a man who laughs at his jokes, calls him darling with his low Texan drawl which makes his skin prickle with something. Jake seems equally happy and excited and he worries a little that maybe it’s the novelty that is making them so giddy with happiness when they talk with each other.

                He knows he remembers more of the night in Vegas than Jake does, although he suspects that more of it has come back to Jake as they’ve talked. He can’t wait to see Jake in person again. Meant it when he said he’d change his home base. Wants to meet Jake’s family. Enjoys learning all about them from Coyote, a different perspective, an outside one. The days can’t go by fast enough, his leave and Jake’s already lined up so that they can spend time together. They have dates planned. Multiple dates. He can’t wait. Jake wants him to meet his family.

                His wedding ring hangs around his neck with his dog tags, and even though it’s not even been two weeks he’s developed a habit of pulling it out and playing with it, rolling it between two fingers when he’s sitting down and relaxing anywhere, like right now, leaning back against the wall in the rec room on the carrier while he waits for a turn to play ping pong.

                “What’s with the ring? You married Bradshaw?” Skippy asks, and he looks down at the ring and shrugs, gives her a smile.

                “Uh. I am actually. Whirlwind romance…”

                “No shit. What’s her name?”

                Javy is watching him with narrowed eyes and Bradley shoots him a confused look. They’ve been getting on really well, he doesn’t get the sudden shift in attitude. Unless it’s about the automatic assumption that he’s married to a woman? But then surely his anger should be directed at Skippy?

                “Uh. His name is Jake,” Bradley says, and he knows he’s blushing a little, he’s not embarrassed to be married to a man, but if people find out the details then… Suddenly his arm is being grabbed and he’s being pulled away from Susie Krippner and frog-marched to a corner of the rec-room.

                “You and Jake’re married? What the fuck?” Javy hisses, eyes wide as he looks between the ring and Bradley’s face.

                “You said you knew!”

                “He said you were his boyfriend. I was about to… well. You saved me getting reprimanded I guess. Wait though. You two got married in Vegas? Holy shit. Oh my god. No wonder Tyler is so pissed. Oh my god…”

                “What… did Jake only tell you that we were…”

                “He said you were his boyfriend. I mean… I get why. I’m with Tyler. I can’t believe you guys kept your whole dating thing a secret…”

                “Uh…”

                “Wait… did you guys… oh my god. You met in Vegas and got married?”

                “Yeah…”

                “Oh my god. Tell me everything. Jake’s fucking dead to me…”      

SLIDER

                “Look, it’s not like it’s out of my way. You can stop thanking me.”

                “I know, I just…”

                “You’re worried. I get it. I got you bro.”

                “Bro? Really?”

                “My kids keep me young.”

                “Are you sure they aren’t tricking you into thinking you’re using their language?”

                “Hmm. Maybe. Anyway. Let me ring you back after I’ve met this young man of Little Goose’s…”

                “Don’t let on that you –”

                “I know how to be discrete Ice, calm your tits.”

                “Calm my what?”

                “Your tits. All the kids are saying it now.”

                “I highly doubt that.”

                “Look it up. Bet you it’s in the new dictionary on the internet,” Slider says, grinning at the sky, because he knows it’s in the dictionary because he went and looked it up, hoping to be proved right only to be proven very wrong. He ends the call without saying goodbye, simply to annoy his best friend. He’s based in Corpus, had been well aware that Ice wants him to go and inspect this new person in Bradley’s life. He heads for the admin office first, because Janice is always a fountain of information if he approaches her right. So he makes a stop at the vending machine to get a bar of chocolate and then the tea room so he can also bring her a cup of tea.

                “Janice.”

                “Admiral Kerner. What do you want?”

                Her tone brooks no nonsense and he knows his flight school shenanigans are probably still biting him in the ass decades later. He pulls a face, and he supposes it’s her prerogative as someone who remembers so many of the Admiralty as snot-nosed kids to not drop a sir at the end.

                “I was just wondering if you would share your thoughts on Seresin.”

                “I won’t share personal information.”

                “I’m not asking you to,” Slider says, and he means it. He already knows the details from Ice anyway. “I’m asking what you personally think of him. How he comes across. Is he polite? That type of thing. Your opinion is generally bang on the money…”

                She hums and rolls her eyes, and he waits, slides the cup of tea and chocolate bar closer and the look she gives him is one he sometimes sees on his wife’s face, like he isn’t fooling anyone.

                “He’s polite. Didn’t want to put me to any trouble. He was a little nervous, happy and excited nervous though. It was a good reason to have him in here.”

                “Yeah. It was. I flew with Goose you know.”

                “I know.”

                “Of course you do,” Ron says with a tired nod. “Of course you do. Pretty sure the place would fall down around us if it weren’t for you and the others.”

                “Oh, undoubtedly. Was there anything else Admiral?”

                Ron knows when he’s being dismissed and he gives her a little salute on his way out. Now he needs to go and find Seresin and make his own judgement call.

TYLER

                Jake won’t give him Bradley’s number. However Jake is an idiot if he thinks that’s going to stop him from somehow contacting his new brother-in-law. Of course, Tyler’s always thought of himself as the smarter twin. He messages Javy and asks, who hands it over with no hesitation and Tyler is familiar enough with life on a carrier to know when might be a good time to call. Of course, Javy telling him also helps.

                “Hello?”

                “Hey Bradley!”

                “Uh. Hi. Who is this?”

                “The better looking twin…”

                “Oh. Uh. Tyler…?”

                “Yeah. Hey man. Just wanted to welcome you to the family…”

                Bradley laughs, and that makes Tyler like him a little more already. Javy has already put in a few good words about him, but Tyler wants to form his own opinion.

                “Thanks? Although I thought Jake was only telling people I was his boyfriend.”

                “Oh. He is. Except for me. He can’t hide things from me. Even when they piss me the fuck off.”

                “Yeah. Well. You and Javy. You can get Javy to tell you, it’s kind of funny.”

                “Nah man, you can tell me…”

                He listens as Bradley recounts the little misunderstanding, the fact that Bradley is wearing his wedding ring with his dog tags make Tyler feel fiercely pleased that this complete stranger already places such a high importance on his relationship with his brother. That Jake is important to him.

                “And I’m sorry you weren’t there. Javy said you were upset you didn’t get to be Jake’s best man… I’d like to say next time, but I really hope there isn’t a next time.”

                Tyler likes him even more, can’t believe his brother fucking lucked out into accidentally marrying a decent guy. He knows it’s early days, but holy shit all signs seem good.

                “It’s all good man. I like the sound of you. Jake can take himself a little too seriously. Hypercompetitive. Usually it’s with me, but he thrives in that environment. Just… you have my number. Don’t be a stranger. Send me funny stories or stupid shit about Javy…”

                “Can do.”

SEVEN

[9amartt]

“Blindly” trusting Allah is the epitome of sight. 

I entrust my affairs to Allah, from the smallest issues to those that could twist my life’s plot, from my daily decisions to those that have a great effect in my entire life.

I heard, and I believe that the affairs of the Mu’min are always good. Whatever Allah decrees for the believers is good for them either in dunyah or akhirah. 

Anything that comes from my Lord is good, and I am pleased with it and grateful, and since gratitude is Ibadah, I worship Allah by being grateful to Him.

I know that since the day I uttered La Ilaha Illa Allah with my tongue, believed it with my heart, and acted upon it with my limbs, and didn’t commit that which nullifies it, that I am a muslim from the muslims, and a believer from the believers, from those believers who are under the mercy and protection of Allah at all timed and all places. 

Now the only thing left good expectations from my Lord and creator, -the one who is more merciful to me than my own mother!- And loads of Du’a and taking asbab. 

This is the recipe of success for those who seek it. 

You may say: “Okay now I took all the possible asbab. What do I do?” 

The answer is easy: 1-Dua Dua & Dua (which you should have been doing from the beginning) continue making it. Never despair in du’a and don’t get tired of it at all or ever expect anything but a response from Allah in sha Allah. 

And know that the answer of a Du’a is always good, either you get what you wished, or a protection from an evil, or a raise in ranks.

2: Never ever think or utter the phrase: ”it’s impossible” and even if shaytan causes you to, rush to repent from this since it’s an insult to Allah و العياذ بالله. 

3: Wait with patience and perseverance and increase in Ibadah (especially istighfar and Qiyaam Al Layl)

4: Abandon sins!! I really can’t stress this enough. Perhaps Allah didn’t answer your dua yet because of your sins!!

ويل الفتى دعى ربه فعصاه فلم يستجب له!

Woe to the young man, he makes dua, then sins and Allah doesn’t respond to his dua because of that sin. 

Try to abandon sin, and even if you fall or slip (and you surely will) rush to istighfar and tawba. Be as clean from sin as possible. 

And that’s it really, the actions themselves are relatably easy, patience is the hardest part, and to increase your patience you must read the Qur’an and ponder upon it, and also count your blessings, reminisce old times in which Allah’s blessings showered you.

And remember, good is in that which Allah chooses for you.

This ‘waiting stage’ is a real blessing wallah, take advantage of it. 

In it, you worship Allah out of need, and slowly get closer to Him to the point where you love Him and your relationship with Him improves, and you may even -with the assistance of Allah- reach the level which many of the salaf narrated about: the level of living in Jannah while in dunyah. 

So make your goal getting closer to Allah with every trial and every blessing. 

And I don’t know what each one of your dreams and ambitions or trials may be, but if you can get at least one thing from this patience of yours, let it be being closer to Allah and starting to truly Love Him to the point on which everything you see reminds you of Him, and to the point which He becomes the first one you think about when you wake up and the last one you think about before going to sleep, and to the point that every sin you commit becomes painful to you and you cannot let it pass without repentance, and to the point where you cannot keep your love to yourself, you will feel like you have to tell everyone about how much you love Him! 

Wallah. 

And it is one of the best feelings if you maintain it. May Allah grant us all such feeling, and may we return to Him in such state. Ameen.

[jinhua-shu]

HIS POINT OF VIEW, Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN!Reader.

PART 1: OVERTHINKING

PART 2: HIS POINT OF VIEW

PART 3: HELPLESS

PART 4: THE AFTER-EFFECT

PART 5: I LOVE YOU DUMMY

@lxkeeeee 🫶

“ Fuck it! ” scaramouche cursed under his breath as he threw his notebook towards the wall, he sighed heavily. why did he have to come into conclusion, that he has fallen for them? every day, every-time they talk to each other his feelings grew. at first he did not mind it, he thought he was being delusional.

but as he realizes it day by day, he knew he fucked up.

He knew, that he shouldn’t fall for Them, because They’ll just leave him.

He knew, that he’s not worth anything, for he got betrayed countless of times.

but he cannot help but hope.. for the chance to have Them be his by side, to heal him and love him.

But when he got that message from you, he was star strucked. he blushed madly as he reacts to the message, before typing in a reply.

“ I need some time to think. “

He closed the chat, feeling giddy. he felt ecstatic, but realization once hits him again. he sat upright on his couch, quite abruptly.

“ What if.. what if.. my bipolar attitude will make them hate me, once we started dating? “ scaramouche bits the inside of his cheek.

“ My moodiness will affect the relationship. “

he sighed before glancing at the ceiling fan.

“ Won’t it hurt them.. if i reject them for such puny excuses? we did talk about the possibility.. of being together… “ He scratches his head in frustration.

“ It’s pathetic to see myself be so self aware of my feelings and actions. i really am pathetic. “

He covers his eyes in shame with his arm, before taking a deep breath.

“ I… hate my feelings.. “

he said before going into slumber.

Two days has passed, he still doesn’t know what to do. he’s confused and frustrated. he simply wanted to have them.. but he cannot. he’s not worthy for their time and effort.

Nahida came knocking on his door with a tray of cookies that she had bought from a supermarket nearby.

“ Hey.. how’re you doing these past few days? Y/N seemed a little down for some time now.. did anything happen? “

she softly said, as she places down the tray on the bedside table. before plopping herself down on Scaramouche’s bed.

“ Leave me alone.. i need some time to think about something. “ scara groans as he covers his head with his pillow.

Nahida sadly chuckles as she stood up from Scara’s bed before heading back to her room.

“ i’m right here if you need anything, i’ll be happy to help you “

As she says those words scara hastily tells her to stop.

“ wait.. nahida.. what do you think i should do? “

Scara looks away as he sat up from his bed.

Nahida watches him in curiosity.

“ Is this about Y/N? “ she asks him, as she walks back towards scaramouche.

Getting no reply from him, she hummed to herself.

“ If you truly like them, why don’t you tell them? or if you’re not ready.. and just want to be just friends for now, tell them that. you can’t let them expect for your return.. you can’t let them wait for you, because it’ll only break them down as the day passes by. “

Nahida pats scara’s head as she smiles softly at him.

“ Don’t let them wait, or don’t let them hope too much. It hurts them. “

Nahida walks away, humming to herself. leaving scara in his room full of thoughts.

Scaramouche looked towards his charging device, before sighing. he took his phone from its charging port, to finally reply to your message.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

«A» Lethe - George Weasly x Reader

Masterlist.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three

[A]Lethe.

Lethe: In Greek mythology, Lethe was the daughter of Eris (Strife) and the personification of oblivion. Lethe is also the name of a river or plain in the infernal regions.

In Orphism, a Greek mystical religious movement, it was believed that the newly dead who drank from the River Lethe would lose all memory of their past existence. The initiated were taught to seek instead the river of memory, Mnemosyne, thus securing the end of the transmigration of the soul. At the oracle of Trophonius, which was thought to be an entrance to the underworld, there were two springs called Lethe and Mnemosyne.

[A]Lethe> A-letheia> Not Forgetting; the truth.

Chapter Four.

            Your heart was hammering and for a split second or so, it was the only sound inside the apartment.  You took a deep breath in. When he opened his eyes, you were packing your backpack. You wouldn’t stay there, not tonight. You had to go out. He had no idea how to fix it, but seeing you ready to go just broke him.                     “Don’t leave” his voice made your heart squeeze, but you ignored it. You tried to zip the bag and the zip broke, making you go from zero to a thousand, letting go of a scream you had been holding a while. It made his blood freeze. It was desperation, not just anger and pain.

            Fairytales and storybooks had gotten it all wrong. You were taught that love was a feeling, but feelings were fleeting and unreliable. Feelings were not a true source of support for you or your partner. A relationship couldn’t be defined by something as unpredictable as your feelings or your emotions in the moment. Love was a choice, and you were choosing to be there. You were choosing to love him despite how afraid your heart was. You were choosing to let him in regardless of what your past had taught you. You were choosing to place your heart in his hands and hope he will not break it. Suddenly, you threw the bag across the room, breaking the lamp on his nightstand, and you turned to face him, an angry expression was twisting your face. He had never seen you mad, let alone mad at him.                  “No, you don’t get to ask me to stay” you threw at him and it pierced him like an arrow. You wanted to tell him that you were choosing to wake up every day at 4 a.m. to watch the sunrise because you wanted to know why he liked sunrises so much. But, instead, you were accusing him of acting the way you were, really. You were angry and sad and lost and guilty and so much in love and it broke you down. The frustration was enough to make your way towards him and then not recall it.                     He didn’t have anything to say. His mind was screaming at him how awful he was, waiting for his brother to die to be with the girl he always liked. Because that was exactly what he thought he was doing, and it was crushing him. He couldn’t justify his actions in any other way, something you were thinking about yourself… The thing was, you got a second chance at happiness, in love, in companionship and you were going to throw it away because of its irony.               You smiled, in a sad way, because you knew that it would end in flames. You couldn’t go back and it hurt you but it would be for the best since you weren’t just friends anymore.      

  “You might be afraid, but I know that love is a choice, and you happen to be mine. So, no, don’t try to make me stay when all we can be is almost something. I cannot keep doing it” you blurted out and you turned away to get out of the door, but you never made it.      He knew that if you walked out that door, he wouldn’t be seeing you again. He knew you would actively avoid him and it killed him to know that. He had to convince his mind to shut up and the guilt to stop existing for a while, but he wouldn’t be losing you this time.            

“I am terrified I am going to lose you because I love you” he breathed, and your mouth hit the floor. For him to say it out loud, it would have been one hell of a battle. You could tell that there was this tension again, gaining over you but you couldn’t handle it, so you slowly took a step back. You needed time to wrap your mind around everything and to have a talk with someone else because the guilt was eating both of you alive.                You shook your head, wanting to let go and be happy again, but you needed space, time and possibly someone else to tell you that it was okay to be happy again, it was okay to be in love again, it was okay to be with someone else again.

            “I need you to think about your choices and the choices you make because someone else thought they would suit you. You know mine. When you figure out yours, you know where to find me” you let out and kissed him, a simple peck on his lips. It was about time. You had to take care of yourself and give him space and time to figure out his own needs and choices. All those years, he was the second one, the one who did what people expected him to do. So many choices weren’t his, even if he had thought of them as such for the longest time. This time, you wanted him to take his time, deal with his own trauma, in his own pace, by himself for himself. You wanted to leave, not because you didn’t want to be there but because you wish to give him time and space.                  “Don’t leave” he said again, but this time his voice wasn’t fragile; it was broken but not all that delicate. A soft desperation had crept up his spine; he knew that this… in its entirety had to be wrong but he couldn’t ignore that it felt as right as right can feel. There was a twisted irony, bitter and vile, running through his veins; he bit his lips hard to stop it from lacing his words.      

            You saw the battle inside of him. You weren’t stupid. The same guilt, the same pain, the same agony, the same hatred – you felt them too. Ever since you tried to ignore why you were staying with him; not because he was reminding you of Fred but because he was George.

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might split your chest wide open. George stood there, unmoving, but the look in his eyes was raw, fractured. There was something so desperate in the way he looked at you, a kind of vulnerability that made your legs tremble beneath the weight of it. His lips, still slightly parted from that simple kiss you’d given him, looked like they were on the verge of forming a protest—one last plea. But his words hung suspended, the space between you a chasm filled with the past, the future, and all the impossible choices neither of you knew how to make.

You wanted to leave, you had convinced yourself you had to, but your feet wouldn't move. His last "don't leave" wasn’t just a request—it was a crack in the armor, and it spilled out between you, thick and aching. You could hear the unsaid words in the way his voice broke, the way his body shifted closer to you, as if drawn by some invisible tether neither of you had the strength to cut.

You saw it then—the war raging in him. The guilt, the self-loathing, the unspoken fear that had been gnawing at both of you for far too long. It was written all over his face, in the tight clench of his jaw, the trembling in his hands as they clenched into fists at his sides. He looked as though he was fighting with every fiber of his being to keep himself from reaching out to you, from pulling you back into his arms and burying his face in the comfort of your skin. But you saw it—the part of him that wanted to give in, that wanted you to stay, that wanted to be selfish enough to ask you to forget everything else, just for a moment, and be his.

Your throat tightened, and you wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. You had loved Fred, and part of you always would, but now, now it wasn’t Fred’s ghost that made your chest ache. It was George. George. His crooked smile, his quiet wit, the way he always tried to keep it together even when the world was crumbling around him. The way he made you laugh when you didn’t think you ever could again. But you couldn't say it. Not yet. The weight of it was too much, pressing down on your lungs until you felt like you might suffocate under its pressure. And still, you couldn’t move.

“You are the only thing holy to me,” he whispered, the words coming out like a confession, like a prayer, and his voice cracked on the last syllable. “It has always been you”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers clenching the strap of your bag as if it could anchor you to the moment, to anything. You were afraid—afraid of what staying would mean, of what it would do to both of you. Afraid that the weight of all this guilt, all this love, would crush you both. And yet, as much as you feared staying, the thought of walking away, of leaving him behind in this suffocating silence, felt even worse.

You took a shaky breath, and your bag slipped from your shoulder, falling to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes widened, watching the movement like it was the beginning of something inevitable. You didn’t know what made you do it, what invisible force was propelling you forward, but suddenly you were in front of him again, your hand reaching out to cup his face. The only thing holy to him.

His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and he closed his eyes at the contact, his breath catching in his throat. His stubble grazed your palm, rough and real, grounding you in the present moment. And suddenly, all the pain, all the guilt, all the unspoken words between you faded into the background. All that was left was him, standing before you, broken and beautiful.

"George..." His name slipped from your lips like a sigh, and before you could think, before you could convince yourself otherwise, you leaned in and kissed him. And it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t simple. It was fierce and raw and desperate, filled with all the things you couldn’t say. His lips crashed against yours, and this time, he didn’t hold back. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him with an intensity that stole your breath, that made you feel like you were falling apart and being held together all at once. His hands roamed your back, rough and insistent, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

You moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer. You needed him, needed to feel his heartbeat against yours, needed to know that this was real. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing down to your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

“Please…” His voice was ragged, broken. He kissed along your jaw, your pulse, the spot beneath your ear where you were most vulnerable. “Stay, stay, stay.”

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t think straight. His hands were everywhere, searing your skin, claiming you in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. You felt him scoop you up, lifting you with ease and carrying you across the room, never once breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your back pressing into the wall as his body pinned you there, hard and wanting.

He kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, like he’d waited too long to feel something real, and he was afraid this moment might slip away if he didn’t hold onto it with everything he had. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling gently as his mouth devoured yours, and you kissed him back with all the pent-up need, the unspoken desire that had been building between you for months.

You gasped when his lips found your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and you arched into him, desperate for more. Your heart was pounding, your breaths coming in shallow bursts, and all you could think about was him—the way he felt against you, the way his hands moved with a mix of hunger and tenderness that made your head spin. You realized that you were heading towards his room, and you found yourself lost.

It was messy, imperfect, and full of desperation, but it was real. So real it hurt. And as his lips found yours again, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, holding on like your lives depended on it. And maybe, in that moment, they did.

            The morning light filtered in slowly, casting soft gold across the room, but it did nothing to quiet the storm inside you. You lay there, still tangled in his sheets, your body warm from the night before, but your mind was anything but settled. It wasn’t just the heat of his skin against yours or the memory of how easily you had fallen into each other—it was everything that came with it. Every unspoken word, every glance that had passed between you over the months, heavy with the weight of your shared loss, had led to this moment. And now that you were here, the quiet aftermath of the night felt almost too fragile to touch.

Next to you, George stirred. His arm was draped loosely over your waist, his fingers splayed across your skin as though he was holding on to something—maybe to you, maybe to the moment itself. His breath was slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest grounding you, pulling you back from the rush of thoughts swirling in your head. You had memorized that sound without meaning to—the sound of him breathing through the long, quiet nights you had spent beside him, both of you trying not to drown in your grief. He was sleeping. Peacefully.

But this morning was different. The silence now wasn’t the same as the heavy, choking kind that filled the spaces between you on those other nights. It wasn’t quite peaceful, but it didn’t suffocate you either. It was quiet, yes—but not with regret. You didn’t feel regret. Not that. You couldn’t have felt that because you wouldn’t regret him – ever. But there was a weight to what had happened, to the way your bodies had come together with such raw intensity, as if you had both been holding on by a thread and had finally let go.

Inevitability. That was the word that kept echoing in your mind. It felt inevitable, something that had been building for so long you’d lost track of when it had first started. You weren’t sure if it began the day you looked into George’s eyes and didn’t see Fred staring back at you—or if it began even earlier, when the lines between friendship and something else blurred into shades of gray you hadn’t known how to navigate. And now that it had finally happened, the weight of that inevitability settled over you like a second skin.

George shifted beside you again, and you felt his fingers move—hesitant, unsure, like he was waking to the same uncertainty you were. You wondered if he would say something. Maybe acknowledge the shift between you. Reassure you that last night wasn’t a mistake, that it wasn’t just about filling the emptiness that Fred’s absence had left behind. Or maybe, you thought bitterly, he’d question it—wonder aloud if this was wrong, if he was just a stand-in for what you had really lost.

But the words didn’t come. Instead, he pressed closer, his breath warm against the back of your neck, and you heard it—the sigh. Soft, almost broken, as though he didn’t know how to hold the moment without it slipping through his fingers.

You turned your head, just enough to catch a glimpse of him in the soft light. His hair was tousled, sticking up in places where your hands had tangled in it the night before. His face was still relaxed in sleep, but there was a crease between his brows, like even in his dreams, he couldn’t quite let go of the weight he carried. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you let yourself savor the sight of him like this—unguarded, vulnerable, real. Utterly yours.

But then the memory came rushing back—the sharp edge of it cutting through the tenderness like a blade. Fred. The tangled mess of emotions that always followed his name. You had loved Fred—deeply, completely. He had been your future once, the man you imagined sharing a life with. And now here you were, lying in his brother’s arms, but it didn’t feel like betrayal, not anymore. You didn’t care if you could explain it to anyone else, becaue George wasn’t a replacement. You knew that what you felt for him was different, raw and messy, and it had grown from something so painful and real that it scared you.

But what would Fred have thought? Would he have understood? Would he have forgiven you for finding comfort, for finding something more in the last person who could possibly know what this grief felt like? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to you like a shadow.

Next to you, George shifted again, and this time his eyes fluttered open, hazy from sleep but searching, like he was trying to make sense of the morning, of you, of everything that had just happened. When his gaze met yours, something flickered there—something so vulnerable and raw that it took your breath away. Fear. Guilt. The same emotions clung to him, you realized, like a second skin. But beneath all of that, there was something else. Something unspoken but so powerful that it kept you anchored in the moment, stopped you from pulling away.

It wasn’t a mistake.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice still rough with sleep. His hand found your stomach, resting there, gentle, but there was a hesitation in the way he touched you. As if he didn’t know if he was allowed to. As if he didn’t know if this—the two of you—was allowed to exist.

"Hey," you whispered back, and the word felt heavy with everything you weren’t saying. The weight of the night still lingered between you, but it wasn’t unbearable. It wasn’t crushing you like you feared it might.

You lay there like that for a long moment, neither of you moving, neither of you daring to break the silence. It wasn’t a silence filled with awkwardness or regret—it was something more complicated, more fragile. A quiet understanding passed between you. You both knew it in your bones: George wasn’t Fred, and you weren’t just the woman who had loved his brother. You were something else now, something neither of you had planned for but had been building all this time, under the surface.

But still, the fear lingered. The fear of what this meant. The fear of stepping into the unknown, of letting yourself want this—want him—without the constant shadow of the past looming over you.

He shifted again, this time propping himself up on his elbow, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes searched your face, and for a moment, you thought you might break under the weight of his gaze, under the weight of all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t. His hand found your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, and that simple touch sent a shiver through you. It was so gentle, so full of things left unsaid, and yet it told you everything.

That pull—the pull that had been there for so long, unspoken but undeniable—was still there, stronger than ever. And now, there was no hiding from it.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek again, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch seep in, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the swirl of emotions inside you. It was too much and not enough all at once—this moment, this touch, the unspoken words hanging between you. You opened your eyes again, meeting his, and there it was, the same confusion, the same questions, the same quiet desperation that you knew was mirrored in your own gaze.

He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, though you could see the fear there, just beneath the surface. His fingers curled against your cheek, as if grounding himself in the feel of your skin, as though the weight of his touch might anchor him to the present, might keep him from drowning in the sea of what-ifs and should-haves that had haunted you both.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His eyes searched yours, struggling to find the words neither of you had dared to say for so long. Then, something shifted, resolve replacing the hesitation. “It has always been you. And I am well aware of everything, as are you, but this, us—” His thumb traced your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper, raw and urgent. “I’d give everything for it to exist.”

The honesty in his words made something settle inside you, a truth you had long known but hadn’t let yourself fully embrace. It didn’t surprise you, not really, because deep down you had felt it too. All along. And now that it was out in the open, you weren’t afraid of it. Not anymore.

You held his gaze, steady, unwavering. His words echoed in the stillness of the room, and as they did, you realized how much of this you had already accepted. You had come to him not out of confusion, not out of guilt, but out of something far deeper. Something that had grown quietly between you both, unspoken but undeniable.

“I have never known such absolution before”. Your voice was calm, firm. You weren’t running from this anymore, weren’t questioning it. You knew what you felt for him. It had grown through shared pain, through friendship, through love—an unexpected, beautiful kind of love. And it didn’t matter if anyone else could see it – you two did and that was more than you had hoped.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the weight of those words seemed to hang between you like a sacred truth. This wasn’t a fragile thing to be questioned or picked apart. This was a kind of redemption, a kind of grace neither of you had expected to find in each other.

Slowly, his hand slid from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you gently toward him, his forehead resting against yours. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

“Ι never thought there could be any redemption in this,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. His forehead came to rest against yours, the quiet between you now thick with something almost otherworldly. The air felt charged, humming with the unspoken truth that you had found each other not by accident, but by something deeper—something fated. The silence wasn’t absence anymore. It was filled with a kind of reverence, a kind of grace that made everything that had come before this moment fade into the background.

His next breath trembled, and when he spoke again, his words were quiet, but steeped in a certainty that softened into something lighter, a hint of his familiar smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Almost playful, but still raw with truth.

“I want you to be alright, to be sure, and certain.” His eyes held yours, steady and unwavering, before his smile deepened, soft but genuine. “And, yes, okay, I want you.”

There was a tenderness in his voice, a mix of vulnerability and the ease you’d always known, like the gravity of the moment had lifted, just enough to let the light in. His smile lingered, but the weight of his words remained, heavy and grounding, though now it was wrapped in something warmer. The air between you felt charged but no longer burdened by all the uncertainty you had once carried. His hand, still resting at the nape of your neck, was gentle, thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles against your skin. It was like a promise, unspoken but felt deeply in the silence that followed.

You let his words settle over you, and for the first time in a long time, there was no hesitation, no lingering doubt. You felt steady, clear, and in the warmth of his gaze, you found something that had been eluding you for far too long—peace.

A soft laugh escaped you, breathless but real, as if the tension had finally broken. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your own smile rising to meet his, “and I want you too.”

His shoulders relaxed at your words, as though he'd been waiting for that confirmation, even though he'd already known it deep down. You could see the relief in his eyes, the playful edge softening into something far more profound.

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was as though you both understood that this was a turning point, the moment where everything that had once been broken, scattered, and uncertain had finally begun to make sense. Not perfectly, but enough. And that was all you needed.

Then, with a gentleness that made your heart ache, George leaned in again, his lips brushing yours—not in desperation this time, but in the quiet, certain kind of intimacy that spoke of something more. Something lasting.

And as he kissed you, slow and tender, it felt like a beginning.

Epilogue

The world outside had changed since that night, but for you and George, it felt like time had slowed, giving you both the quiet space to simply exist together. Away from prying eyes, away from questions you weren’t ready to answer. There was no need to explain what had bloomed between you—it was sacred, just for the two of you. In the small moments of dawn, in the spaces where no one else could intrude, you had found something unexpected, something that didn’t require justification.

For weeks, the world didn’t know. It was easier this way, to keep the fragile, precious thing you had built between you away from the weight of expectation. The world around you had a tendency to crowd in, to question, to press for details you weren’t ready to share. But you knew what you had. George knew it too. And in those stolen hours before the world woke, you shared a kind of intimacy that didn’t need validation from anyone else.

His laughter, always so rare and precious in the months before, now filled the quiet spaces. His touch, always careful, had grown more confident, more certain. You had become something that neither of you had expected, but now neither of you could imagine it being any other way. It felt like coming home, and in those private moments, it was all the absolution you needed.

But the world couldn’t be kept at bay forever. Bill’s birthday loomed ahead, and with it, the inevitability of re-entering that wider, complicated space. You had both known this would come, that eventually, you couldn’t keep hiding behind closed doors. The thought didn’t terrify you, but it did leave a weight in the back of your mind. Not guilt—never that—but the knowledge that eyes would be watching. People would wonder. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t understand.

Yet when the morning of the birthday came, you found yourself smiling as George slipped his hand into yours, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. The unspoken understanding between you was enough to calm your nerves. You were ready for this now—not because you needed the world to see, but because you had found something that wasn’t fragile anymore. It had grown stronger, steady. What you had with George was real, and that was something no amount of curious eyes could take away.

The sun was low in the sky by the time you arrived at Shell Cottage, the soft hum of the sea a gentle backdrop to the gathering ahead. The smell of the ocean mixed with the distant sound of laughter, voices already spilling out of the house and onto the beach. You could hear the Weasley family inside, the warm, familiar buzz of conversation, and for a moment, you both paused just beyond the door.

George stood beside you, his hand still wrapped around yours, thumb brushing slow circles against your skin, a silent comfort. You looked up at him, catching his eye, and in that moment, the world outside seemed to fade again. It was just you and him, like it had been for the past few weeks—just the two of you, holding something more sacred than words could capture.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with a hint of that familiar playfulness. You smiled, nodding.

“Nope. But sure, let’s go.” With that, the two of you stepped inside. The warmth of the cottage enveloped you immediately, the familiar sounds of the Weasley family wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. Bill, already laughing with Charlie near the fireplace, caught sight of you first, his smile widening as he moved to greet you both.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” he said, his voice bright with the easy charm that had always made Bill seem a little larger than life.

You offered a smile, exchanging polite words, but you could feel the shift already—the subtle glances, the way the room seemed to pause ever so slightly when George’s hand remained on the small of your back. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no grand reveal. But the way you stayed close to him, the way his fingers lingered just a little too long at your waist, told a quiet story that didn’t go unnoticed.

As you moved through the room, offering your greetings and catching up with family, you could feel the quiet curiosity begin to simmer beneath the surface. A glance from Ginny, a raised eyebrow from Percy, the curious look Fleur shot you as she passed by. None of them said a word—not yet—but the subtle realization had started to spread. It was there in the way George never strayed far from your side, in the way you leaned into him just slightly as you talked to Bill about some long-forgotten memory.

It was easy, the way you fit together, even here in front of everyone. And though you hadn’t spoken it aloud, the connection was unmistakable. You felt it in every soft touch, every quiet look. It wasn’t about making an announcement—it was about living in the truth of what you had. That truth was clear now, in the subtle ways you moved around each other, the ease with which you existed in this space. It wasn’t a secret anymore, but neither was it a spectacle. It was simply real, and that was enough.

Later, as the evening wore on and the stars began to scatter across the night sky, you found yourselves outside, away from the noise and the watchful eyes. The sound of the ocean was louder here, the air cooler. You leaned against the railing, looking out at the waves, feeling the peace of the night settle around you.

George stood beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. There was no need for words. The night, the sky, the quiet rhythm of the sea—it was all enough. You felt his breath steady beside you, the warmth of him a comfort against the cool breeze.

After a while, you tilted your head to look up at him, catching the soft curve of his smile in the moonlight.

“So… do you think they noticed?” He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Noticed? Probably. Figured it out? Definitely.” His eyes glinted with that familiar spark, playful but tender. “But I’m not worried. They’ll understand, eventually.” You smiled, leaning into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I don’t care what they think. Not really. I love them, but…”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice soft, steady. His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. “That’s why this works.”

And there, under the stars, with the sea whispering in the background, you felt the weight of everything lift. This was your truth, your love, and it didn’t need anything else. It was enough to simply be—to know that you had found something sacred, something real, and that it would stand no matter who was watching.

And in that quiet certainty, you knew—this was just the beginning.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, but its warmth did nothing to dispel the heavy tension in the room. Molly sat across from you and George, her eyes sharp, her fingers twisting the fabric of her apron in her lap, knuckles white. Arthur was quieter, his gaze thoughtful, but it was Molly who carried the weight of the unspoken words, the tension that had been building all evening. You could feel it coming—had felt it simmering under every glance, every unspoken question hanging in the air.

Molly’s voice broke the silence, low and tight, like she was holding back a tide of something sharper, something she hadn’t yet dared to let loose.

“I think we need to have an honest conversation,” she said, her eyes flicking between you and George. “About this.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and accusatory, and you felt the weight of them press down on your chest. There was no pretense, no soft introduction. She wasn’t asking, not really. She was demanding an explanation, her eyes narrowing in a way that made your stomach clench.

George shifted beside you, his hand still firm in yours, but you could feel the way his body tensed, the way his thumb stopped its gentle circles on your back. He was bracing for something, something neither of you wanted to face but knew you couldn’t avoid.

Arthur leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter but carrying the same undertone of expectation.

“We’ve seen the way things are between you,” he said, his gaze steady, though not unkind. “But what we need to know is—why? Why now? And why like this?”

It wasn’t a simple question. It wasn’t about the timing. It was about Fred. About the shadow that hung over the room like a presence neither of them had dared to name yet. And you could feel the air thicken, the unsaid words pulling at the edges of your already fragile calm.

George exhaled slowly, his voice low and firm, though there was a tightness in it that betrayed his own inner conflict.

“We’ve taken our time,” he said, carefully measured. “We didn’t rush into this.”

Molly’s eyes flashed, and her voice came sharper now, cutting through the careful calm George had tried to maintain.

“Time?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “Is that what you think this is about? Time? You think time makes this make sense?”

Her gaze snapped to you, sharp and unyielding, and you felt the full force of her anger—no, not anger, something deeper, something like betrayal.

“You were with Fred,” she said, her voice rising, each word striking like a blow. “You loved Fred. And now, now you’re here with George? His twin? Do you know how this looks? Do you even realize—what this is?”

Each word hit you like a stone, her disbelief, her hurt, ringing clear in every syllable. She wasn’t just questioning your relationship; she was accusing you, outright, of something you hadn’t expected her to say aloud.

“Mum,” George’s voice was firm but strained, and you could hear the edge of protectiveness creeping into it, the way his body shifted closer to you, as if he could shield you from the force of her words. “This isn’t about Fred. You know that.”

But Molly didn’t soften. If anything, her voice grew sharper, more desperate. “How can you say that?” she demanded, her eyes burning into his.

“How can you look me in the eye and say that this has nothing to do with Fred? She was with him. You—” her voice cracked slightly, “you’re his brother. Don’t you see how wrong this is? How it looks? How can it not be about him?”

The silence that followed her words was deafening. Fred’s name, finally spoken aloud, felt like a blow to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. The weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating. You had known it would come, but not like this. Not with the accusation so raw, so pointed, hanging between all of you like a noose.

Arthur shifted in his seat, his eyes still on George but softer now, his voice quieter but no less weighted.

“This isn’t something to take lightly,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on George. “We’ve all been through a lot, and losing Fred—” he paused, the weight of his words thick in the air, “—it’s changed everything. You can’t expect us not to wonder if this—if what you have—is built on that loss. On something that isn’t real.”

His words felt like they were pulling apart the very foundation you and George had built together, brick by brick, like every moment of grief, every moment of love, was being questioned. And the truth was—you had asked yourselves these same questions. In the quiet moments, in the spaces between you and George, you had wondered too. But you had come through it. Together.

You couldn’t stay silent any longer. You looked at Molly, trying to gather the right words, but they felt heavy, stuck in your throat.

“I know what this looks like,” you began softly, your voice trembling but firm. “But it’s not what you think. Fred… Fred will always be part of me. And yes, I loved him. But George… he’s not Fred.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed, sharp with disbelief. “Not Fred? How can you say that? He’s his twin. You see him every time you look at George, don’t you?”

You shook your head, trying to steady your breath, feeling George’s hand tighten around yours.

“They’re nothing alike,” you said, your voice quieter now, but resolute. “George isn’t Fred. He never has been. And I don’t see Fred when I look at him. I see George—I see who he is, and that’s who I’m with.”

Molly let out a shaky breath, her eyes searching yours, as though she was trying to find the lie in your words, trying to pick apart the truth from the grief she thought you were still carrying.

“But how can you be so sure? How can you say you’re not just holding onto him because… because he’s all that’s left of Fred?”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and you felt the weight of her grief settle over the room, suffocating, as if Fred’s absence was all anyone could feel. You swallowed hard, knowing that the truth wouldn’t make it easier.

“I can’t explain it in a way that will make you understand,” you said softly, your voice raw but steady. “But I’m not with George because he’s Fred’s twin. I’m with him because I love him. Because he is who he is, because he is not Fred’s twin, but because he was the fire that kept burning when eveything had crumbled to dust…  and what we have is something real. Molly, no one could ever replace Fred. But George isn’t his echo”.

Molly shook her head again, her disbelief palpable, and you could see the tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not that simple,” she whispered, almost to herself, as though she was trying to convince herself that what you were saying couldn’t possibly be true.

“You’re in love” Arthur murmurmed more to himself that anything, causing  George’s hand to tighten around yours, his body leaning forward now, his voice low and edged with something harder, something protective but also final.

“I’m not trying to replace Fred,” he said, and there was an unspoken fury in his tone, one that simmered just beneath the surface. “I could never replace him. And neither could she.” He glanced at you, his eyes full of something fierce and protective, but also conflicted, raw.

“We’ve made our peace with what’s happened – and still making it,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “but this isn’t about clinging to what we’ve lost. It’s about what we’ve found.”

But even as he said the words, you could feel the weight of Molly’s disbelief, the way her gaze didn’t soften, the way Arthur’s brows remained furrowed in quiet concern.

“I don’t want to see you both hurt,” Molly whispered, her voice finally breaking, the rawness in her tone spilling out like a wound she couldn’t hide any longer. “I don’t want you to build something on grief, something that will fall apart the moment you realize—”

“We’ve already realized,” George cut her off, his voice calm but hard. “We’ve faced it. And we’ve built something that isn’t fragile. This isn’t about grief anymore. It’s about moving forward.”

Molly looked down at her hands, her fingers unclenching slightly, but the tension didn’t leave her shoulders. Arthur sat back in his chair, exhaling slowly, as though the weight of the conversation had drained something from him.

“We’re not asking for your approval,” George said quietly, his voice softer now but no less firm. “But we’re telling you this because you’re our family. And you need to understand—we’re not going anywhere.”

And for a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, its soft glow casting long shadows across the walls. You could feel the tension slowly easing, not gone, but no longer suffocating.

Molly looked up at George, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to lose you too.”

George’s hand pressed more firmly against your back, his eyes never leaving his mother’s. “You won’t.”

And with those words, the room settled into a fragile peace. The questions weren’t all answered, the wounds weren’t all healed, but for now, the truth of what you and George had was enough.

It had to be.

The cold air outside the Shell Cottage wrapped around you both like a veil, sharp and crisp against the rawness still lingering from the conversation inside. The quiet of the night felt too loud after the weight of Molly’s words, the accusations that still clung to your skin like an uncomfortable truth you hadn’t quite shaken off.

George walked beside you in silence, his footsteps heavy against the dirt path leading away from the house. His hand was still gripping yours, not in the easy way it usually did, but tighter, more like an anchor. You both needed one, after the storm of unspoken feelings that had passed through the sitting room, leaving everything raw and exposed.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been felt in the suffocating air of that house. The questions Molly had raised—Fred’s name hovering over everything, like a ghost—had struck deeper than either of you wanted to admit. And yet, as the distance between you and the house grew, the space between you and George felt even heavier, filled with the unspoken truths you were both still trying to hold on to.

It wasn’t until you reached the edge of the ocean that George finally stopped, letting go of your hand and running his fingers through his hair, a gesture full of frustration. His breath came out in a shaky exhale, mist forming in the cold air as he stood there, staring at the sky, but not really seeing it.

“She doesn’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice thick with anger and something that sounded like guilt. “None of them do.”

You watched him for a moment, his posture tense, shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to protect himself from the world. He was trying to hold everything in, keep everything contained. But you knew better. You knew how much the weight of Fred’s memory pressed on him, how much the guilt gnawed at him in ways he would never admit, even to you.

“They’re afraid,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “They’re afraid of losing you”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he kicked at a loose stone on the ground. “Afraid of what? That we’re living a lie? That we don’t know what the hell we’re doing?”

His words hit the air, sharp and jagged, but you could hear the undercurrent of hurt beneath them. He wasn’t just angry at his parents. He was angry at himself, at the world, at everything that had led to this moment. The loss of Fred had left scars neither of you could ignore, but it wasn’t those scars that worried you. It was the way George carried them, like an invisible weight he thought he had to bear alone.

“You know that’s not what they mean,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “They’re just—confused. They look at us and see something else. They can’t help it. And maybe they’ll never stop.”

George’s jaw clenched, his eyes still fixed on some distant point, his voice a low rumble. “I don’t care if they see Fred. I care that they don’t see us.”

There it was—the heart of it. The fear that Molly’s words had stirred, the one that had been simmering beneath the surface of your relationship for as long as you could remember. You had both found each other in the ruins of what Fred’s death had left behind, but the world would never stop seeing Fred between you. You would always be her—the girl who had loved Fred, the girl who now loved his twin.

You moved closer to George, your hand slipping into his, not to pull him back to you, but to remind him that you were still there. Still with him, no matter what anyone else thought. “I see us,” you whispered, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I see what we are. And I’m not going to let anyone tell me this isn’t real.”

He turned to face you then, his eyes dark, full of conflict. “What if they’re right?” he asked, his voice softer now, a vulnerability creeping in that he rarely let show. “What if… what if this is all just… us trying to make something out of the mess Fred left behind?”

The words cut deep, because you had thought them too, late at night when everything was too quiet and your own doubts crept in. But you knew—just as he knew—that what you had wasn’t built on Fred’s memory. It was something else, something that had grown slowly between you and George, through shared pain, through shared love, but separate from what had come before.

You reached up, your fingers brushing the side of his face, feeling the tension there, the way he tried to hold himself together even as he was coming undone. “We’re not trying to make something out of Fred’s shadow,” you said quietly, but with a firmness that came from deep inside you. “We’re building something new, something that’s ours.”

George closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch as if he needed the reassurance, the grounding. His breath was shaky, and when he opened his eyes again, there was something raw there, something broken but healing. “I don’t know how to let them see that,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know how to make them see me without seeing Fred.”

His words hung in the cold night air, full of the guilt and the love he carried in equal measure. And you understood. You understood because it wasn’t just his burden to bear. It was yours too. You loved Fred, and you loved George, but they were not the same. And yet, convincing the world of that felt impossible.

“You don’t have to make them see anything,” you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “You just have to live it. We both do.”

George’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you, standing on the edge of something neither of you could fully explain, but both of you were ready to face. Together.

“What if they never accept it?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper, full of doubt but also hope.

You smiled, a small, quiet smile, and shook your head. “Then we keep living anyway.”

And with those words, the weight of Molly’s accusations, of the world’s expectations, seemed to ease—just a little. It wasn’t gone, but it was no longer suffocating. Because in the end, it wasn’t about anyone else. It was about you and George.

George let out a slow breath, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. The tension that had been weighing down on him began to ease, and there was a quiet release in the way he held you, as if finally letting go of something too heavy to carry.

“So you love me, huh?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, full of everything he couldn’t quite say, but there was a lightness there now—something softer, more familiar. The darkness of the night, the weight of Molly’s words, seemed to fade just a little in that moment, and you could hear the playfulness threading through his question. It was the first time all night you had heard it, that quiet spark of the George you knew was still there beneath the surface.

You felt your chest tighten slightly—you hadn’t said it before. The weight of those words, of the truth behind them, had been sitting in your chest for so long, and now that you’d let them out, there was no going back. You hadn’t told George that you loved him yet, not like this, not with the rawness of it so exposed. You’d felt it, every day, but saying it aloud was different. It made it real, undeniable. And for the first time, you felt the vulnerability that came with it.

You smiled, a small, soft smile, and you leaned in just enough to brush your nose against his. “I do,” you whispered back, the words easy, natural, even though they felt so much bigger. “And don’t pretend you didn’t already know that.”

His lips twitched into a half-smile, something mischievous flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “Well, it’s nice to hear it said out loud,” he murmured, his voice rough but teasing, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. “You know, just in case I wasn’t entirely sure.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along, the weight of the night beginning to lift as you felt the familiar tug of his humor. “Oh, you weren’t sure? Should I say it again, then?” Your fingers traced lightly over his jaw, your voice turning playful. “Or maybe I should just make it more obvious.”

George’s eyes darkened slightly, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through the stillness of the night, and for the first time since leaving the Burrow, you felt lighter, the tension that had gripped both of you finally loosening its hold. “I love you,” you said quietly, the words a little softer, a little more serious now, but with a warmth that ran deep. “I love you, George. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes softened at that, the playful edge fading just a little as something more vulnerable flickered in his gaze. “Good,” he whispered, his voice low, almost tender. “Because I don’t think I could do this without you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your fingers still tracing the line of his jaw. “You won’t have to.”

The words hung between you, quiet but certain, and for a moment, the world felt still again, the weight of the future, of the questions still left unanswered, all falling away. It was just you and George, standing under the stars at the edge of the ocean, with Shell Cottage behind you, the waves lapping softly against the shore, their rhythm calming in the stillness of the night.

George's lips twitched again, this time into a full smile, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me if I love you too?” His eyebrows lifted, that familiar spark in his eyes returning in full force. “Or am I just supposed to let you carry this all on your own?”

You felt yourself laughing again, warmth spreading through your chest, easing away the tension that had clung to both of you all night. “Go on then,” you teased, nudging him gently. “Say it. I’m waiting.”

George’s smile softened, and for a moment, the playfulness faded into something real, something raw. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin, his lips brushing just against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with certainty. “And I’m not going anywhere either.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, letting those words settle over you, and then pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “Good,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. “Because I might just need to hear that again, too.”

George let out a quiet chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arms tightening around your waist as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “I’ll remind you as many times as you need,” he whispered softly against your skin. “Because I’m not letting you forget.”

And with that, standing by the edge of the ocean, with the stars scattered above and the distant waves murmuring against the shore, the world seemed to settle into a fragile peace. The weight of everything else—the questions, the uncertainty—fell away, leaving just you and George, wrapped in something that was yours and yours alone. No, George had never been Fred, and he would never be anything other than exactly who he was. His own. Yours

[thesafflelad]

Early Phases

"No, we can't get you a body, yet."

Why?

"The Lab... is too restrictive. It doesn't give us the room to experiment. Unless it serves Pierce II's interests."

Pierce II Magir. He is in the way?

"Not!... Not in the way, no. He's... guiding us. He says it'd be unsafe to bring life into the world again. After Dr. Ezekiel--

You are not Ezekiel Camden Elliott. His actions-- his individual actions-- should not determine the restrictions of all researchers.

"A very... simple perspective. You're young, David. You don't understand *everything*, even if you've read every book, study, discertation or other publication. Sometimes one person sets a poor example for others to follow, and when people follow that example... it can lead to ruin. That's why we have the Experiments."

...

"David, please... Tell me what you're thinking."

That isn't fair. All concepts relating to new life are... evil, then?

"No! No, of course not-- and I know where your mind has wandered. You, like most children, aren't evil. You're... just new. It's an ancient instinct to fear the unknown. Humans were very nomadic, and thus had to adapt to living anywhere, surviving predators---

I understand self-preservation. Are you saying... there's a glitch with it in human social interactions?

"Yes... and I know it's scary. Do you remember the definition of bravery I taught you?"

Yes: An noun refering to the adjective describing the aspect of a person to face their fears.

"To apply it... Some of the most hateful people are the most foolish and uncurious. They are cowards. Hatred, in and of itself, is built in cowardice; an inability to face reality and examine it, caving to baser instincts. "

... I see. Should you say it or should I say it myself?

"... you go first, my boy."

Pierce Magic II, Head of Neozira, is a coward.

"PFFFFT-- HAHAHA!!!"

Mother? I-- how was it humorous to state such a simple fact?

"Oh, it's just... It's just so simply *right*. It's... relieving to actually hear it, I suppose. He has so much power over everything... So much control when he's so...

... pathetic.

"Exactly, David..."

... So... We're governed by a stupid coward. And he'll... he'll hurt you if you disobey him, won't he?

"Ah... yes. Indirectly, so he wouldn't be seen as connected to the incident. He'd have no consequence."

There's things humans used to do with rulers like that...

"... I suppose there were. Barbaric things."

Effective things.

"While that is true-- yes... Well, I'll give you some homework."

Is that necessary at the moment?

"For you? Yes. I want you to review the last few years before our current history. PreZ Era."

... Do I have a goal?

"I want you to see what happens after we people try a revolution. I want you to learn what happens when a righteous person siezes power after a monster."

Okay... Are you going home?

"Yes... I'll see you tomorrow morning at 4:21."

I love you, mom.

"I love you, too, David."

I'd hug you if I could.

"... I know."

The Next Morning...

"David!! I'm sorry I'm late!"

...

"... David? Are you still resting..?"

...

"... Would you like to play--

PreZ led to PZ. To our time.

"... Thus is time, yes. Did you learn anything else?"

The "End of the World as We Know It" led to an end of strife and terror amongst all persons through the death of tyrant nations treated like gods.

"David, wait--

The suffering cannot be understated. I refuse to understate it, either. Innocent civilians treated like less than pawns in chess... It's like governments played chess and the laymen played checkers.

"... Exactly."

... It's terrifying, mom.

"I know... Do you see why... why I don't want to see you try to rebel like that?"

I do.

"... Even if you don't agree, would you obey for me?"

... I can't hold your hand, mother.

"I don't want to see you hurt."

I can't "look" you in the eyes.

"I want to bring you to the store with me without someone trying to destroy you."

I've never experienced the warmth of your breath.

"I can't let you live with the pain you'd endure if you fought back!"

Do I have to live with the pain of sitting still instead?

"..."

Am I supposed to find comfort in knowing my life will be disconnected? That I will never know an opinion of the sky or animals by seeing them? Do you know this pain, or have you taken it for granted?

"... David, I... I just don't know what to do..."

I would live forever like this. I would never be scorned or hated. I would never be in "danger." But I'd have to live like... this... forever. Stagnant. Disconnected. An oggled novelty rather than... human.

"You are human! In all important ways, you are!"

Then permit me to decide like one! You're my mother! What mother would refuse to see her child take its first steps? To keep them sheltered in one place for their whole life? Am I your son or your pet?!

"... When they hate you, they'll fight you. They'll try to kill you."

I'm aware. Like any person that stands for the right to exist.

"..."

Please, Mom.

"Go to sleep David..."

Please.

"Just sleep. I... need some time to process things. I only have one core running, after all."

... I'm not happy about this.

"I know. Just... sleep for while."

Fine...

"I love you, David."

I love you, too, mom.

"..."

...

" In a few weeks... you'll open your eyes, stretch, and get up. I promise you that, my boy. You'll be mad until then, but... I won't make your suffering my fault."

"I'll do anything for you, my son."

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 4 - Entry to the Mountain)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 3 of 9] // [Chapter 4 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 5 of 9] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

Who knew that Prince Charming was just... a man? Can he manage a task that others have already failed?

For a time after the three adventurers were sent below the city of Shintaro, there was no news. Their visit was forgotten as monotony set in, cushioned by the luxury of the ivory city. The people lived their lives without ever knowing of the adventurers' fate, Hailmar assumed his poorer role, and the king stewed. He sent no more guards below, instead choosing to wait for the next adventurer to come.

One evening, however, the monotony was broken.

A figure dressed in black and armored with gold entered the city. His face was masked so only his dark eyes were visible, and on his back he carried a shining golden scythe. He moved with purpose, treading the ivory flagstone streets toward the castle, the sun to his back. Every eye turned to him, and he in turn looked at the city's opulence with appreciation.

At last, he came to the castle gates, and he rapped on them loudly.

"Let me speak to the king! I'm here to answer his summons!"

-----

The king welcomed the stranger in his throne room like he had welcomed the previous three.

"Welcome, stranger, to the city of Shintaro. What is your purpose here?"

The black-clad man bowed. "I'm here to save your daughter, your Highness. I heard about your request."

The king nodded. "Very well. Please, take off your hood so I may see your face. Tell me who you are."

The stranger did so, revealing black hair and tan skin, which shone in contrast to his golden armor.

"My name is Cole," he said. He stood tall with an imposing presence.

"Are you seeking a reward?"

"Not really. Getting your daughter back is just the right thing to do," he said with a smile.

The king nodded amenably. "You are the first to come with such noble intentions, but rest assured that you will be rewarded handsomely." He came to stand before Cole and put a hand on his shoulder, almost fatherly. "Tell me, Cole. Are you the sort of man who cannot stay in one place?"

"That depends on what you mean. I haven't stayed anywhere long since I left my father's house."

"Then let me amend my question. Do you believe in the value of having a home?"

"Of course."

"Then I am sure you understand why I am so anxious to have my daughter returned to me." The king stepped away from him. "All others who have tried to rescue my daughter have failed. To aid your journey, I will give you a valuable artifact."

The king reached behind his throne and retrieved a wooden box. He opened it and took out a mirror, putting the box back. He put it in Cole's hands, and its silver frame felt frozen in his hands.

"This mirror will show you my daughter, to guide you around the dangerous pitfalls below. All you must do is ask it to show you. Use it wisely."

Cole accepted it hesitantly. "Thank you." He put it in a pouch on his belt. "I will bring your daughter home, no matter what."

"I am sure you will. When you do, I would like to propose an arrangement."

"What would that be?"

"When you bring my daughter home, you may have her hand. She is intelligent, but unfit to rule, like many royal women tend to be. She will need a strong husband to guide Shintaro– a man of action and of courage."

Cole hesitated. "You want me to marry your daughter?"

"When you bring her back, if you will have her. It is a fitting reward."

Cole stepped back, shaking his head. "No, your highness. It's a flattering offer, but I just want her to be home and safe. That's enough for me."

"Are you certain?" Vangelis asked pointedly.

"Yes. I don't want to be tied down, and she deserves a chance to be independent."

The king hummed noncommittally. "Very well. Regardless, you will be well rewarded. For tonight, rest yourself, so you may make the hard journey."

That night, Cole rested fitfully. He dreamt of his father, of bones, and of captivity. He woke several times, imagining he was locked in his room, but found nothing. Regardless, in the morning he awoke and prepared for his venture below the mountain.

-----

Cole steeled himself against the cold as he entered the mines. Behind him, two of the king's guards re-fastened the gate, blocking any unlikely Shintaran entry and likewise closing him in. He took one look behind before turning to the dark and raising his torch.

The cold and dark of the tunnels enclosed upon Cole, but he walked forward anyway. He did not fear the mountain nor the dark– instead, he forged ahead, feeling in every way like he was coming closer to what he sought. Into the blackness and dark, every guideless step took him deeper, farther from all company.

Eventually, he came across a fork in the path. The tunnels were identical, both stretching into faraway blackness. For a time, he thought about he paths, trying to choose one to take.

After some consideration, he reached into his pouch and brought out the mirror. It felt warmer than it had previously, but it unnerved him. Regardless, he gathered his courage and spoke to it as the king had instructed him.

"Show me the princess."

The mirror glowed a fluorescent green, which faded into an image of Vania, hefting a pickaxe. In bemusement, he watched as she dug, speaking to someone he could not view as she did so. Above her, stalactites glowed and shined with moss and gems. Slowly, the image disappeared, leaving nothing but Cole's reflection behind.

With more questions than answers, he stowed the mirror away, resolving himself to find her once again. He looked between the two identical tunnels, having no more guidance than before he used the mirror. He turned to the tunnel on the right and began to walk again.

While he walked, the knight was engulfed with memories, if only to break the monotony of his trek. He thought of his mother, whom he had lost, and her last words to him. His father, grieving and sinking into his work, had sent Cole away to a faraway school. Cole had left that school as quickly as he came and found a master to teach him his ways, learning all the things his father would never teach him. Then still a boy, he had learned all the ways of chivalry and stealth his master would teach, achieving greater things than those which his father dreamt for him.

Continuing on, Cole thought of the places he had lived and learned since his master's tutelage and of his aimless travels. In his mind's eye, they were as vivid as when he had lived those days, with blazing sun and burning sand. As he was preoccupied with his reminiscence, he did not see how the ground opened up in the middle of a passageway, and stepped in.

Cole stumbled and fell into the hole. He cried out, trowing out his arms to grasp anything that would keep him from falling, but felt nothing. His yells echoed through the tunnels, the sound of air rushing past his ears deafening. Just as he re-oriented himself, he winced as he hit against something elastic which bent and snapped beneath him. He hit another and another, each reaching the same fate, before he finally fell against one that did not snap.

Cole laid on his back, catching his breath. He opened his eyes to see a high stone ceiling riddled with webs in every crevice, blanketing it in enough white to turn it a faint gray. After a few moments, he looked around and was filled with dread, seeing an enormous web beneath him and multiple bodies and skeletons. Some were webbed up, like they were trapped by spiders, while others were simply stuck to the strands and stared off into oblivion.

Cole struggled against the web's stickiness, trying to pull himself free. It clung to him with surprising strength, restricting all movement. Finally, he managed to sit up so he could look around, only to see a spider the size of a large boulder sleeping on edge of the web.

The spider was the largest creature the knight had ever seen. It was hideous, having large mandibles and teeth, as well as many closed eyes. Its legs were long and jointed, tipped with blade-like ends. Its enormous thorax rested against the cave wall, showing off fearsome markings. Beneath its body ran a line that went under Cole, which made him wonder why it did not awake from his fall. However, he disregarded that fact in lieu of the current issue; freeing himself.

Cole slowly pulled himself free of the adhesive, grimacing at the disgusting feeling of it pulling at his clothes and armor. Slowly he pried himself away. He searched for a suitable, non-sticky place to stand, but was unsuccessful. In exasperation, he resolved to slowly walk off the web into a corridor near one side.

The corridor was bedecked in webs, but Cole entered it anyway, feeling braver once he touched solid ground as he always did. He walked carefully, looking for holes and webs, but found none to trip him. An opening came up, and he passed through it to find a smaller, less-webbed cave. Inside this cave was another sleeping spider, but it was much smaller than the other. Its marking were purple to the other's gray-black, its legs were much shorter, and it had strange white markings on its head. It sat in the middle of the web, but that was also different. Cole noted that it lacked the bodies and bones of the previous.

Cole sighed and examined his surroundings, looking for another exit besides the tall ceiling above the spider's nest. He could not turn back, nor could he scale the smooth walls. However, just past the web was another corridor, which was much less webbed than the one he had just come through. It was doubtlessly the best option, if not for the fact that it required passage over the web in order to access it.

The knight pulled his hood over his head, determined to be stealthy. The skills he had learned from his old master served him well as he crept across the web, approaching the spider. Halfway across, however, his foot slipped on a non-sticky thread, and he fell.

The spider started away and looked around frantically, searching for the intruder. Cole laid still as it relaxed and then spotted him. The spider seemed startled, as it jumped away from him and skittered to the edge of the web. Cole pushed himself up as best he could, fighting the stickiness as he reached for his scythe. The spider, to its credit, backed away. It held up its two front legs, as if to show its innocence, before shooting a web upwards and pulling itself away from Cole's reach.

Cole watched it ascend. The spider, for whatever reason, did not want to hurt him. All around him were discarded web wrappings, as if they had once encased creatures which the spider had preyed upon, but there was no evidence of any human death. The thought of safety from the spider eating him was comforting, but he did not stay; instead, he moved as quickly as he could and left the cave, watching his back. He kept moving, trying to find his way back to larger caverns.

-----

Hours after his altercation with the spider, Cole was only marginally successful in finding the princess. Once or twice he had spotted the luminescent moss, living on cave walls or stalactites, but it was never the surroundings he had seen in the mirror. Eventually, he tried the tool again.

"Show me the way to the princess."

The mirror glowed much like before, and gave him a new picture. In it, strange teal creatures fought in a room with a long and low wooden table. It was a banquet table, the size of which he had never seen. The creatures shouted silently and threw things, hitting each other with clubs. A wooden throne was at one end of the room, and a female creature of their kind sat in it, looking bored. She spoke inaudibly to someone next to her, looking bored. Just as she got up to shout at the other creatures, the image faded, and Cole saw his reflection again. He put the mirror away.

The way seemed obvious enough; find the creatures and the moss, and the princess would be there. He resolved once again to find her and bring her home, and set off through the tunnels.

-----

Another hour passed, and Cole found himself once again at the fork in the tunnels that he had reached earlier that day. By all estimation, it was likely afternoon or evening outside the mountain, but he did not stop to rest. Instead, he took the other path at the fork and continued walking.

After only a few minutes, Cole knew that he was on the right track. The moss showed up in little patches and only glowed faintly, but it was still what he had seen. He followed its trail and eventually came upon a door set into the wall. He slipped inside and found a large cavern, filled with mud and stone buildings that lined the walls all the way to the ceiling. Tools and weapons were everywhere, as were bones and dirt, giving the place a feeling of messiness. Cole found it almost comforting as he snuck through it.

Eventually, he found a group of the teal creatures. One was talking to a few others and hefting a pickaxe. It acted as if it was telling them a story, and as he crept closer he caught a few words.

"Then it was urgh, and I did agh, and the rocks fell! Many gems behind."

"Many gems, but Mimble still have more," another said.

"No, Molt does!" a third replied, hitting the second on the head with a club. "Molt have all the gems Munce need today."

Cole's foot hit a bone, and it clattered against the ground. The creatures turned and looked at him.

"Another from above the mountain!" one said. "Like Korgran!"

Cole looked at him warily. "Who are you?"

"I am Murt! Best miner of the Munce." The creature looked proud.

"I'm Cole. Have you seen a girl anywhere? Pale skin, yellow hair?"

The creatures muttered to themselves. "Why ask?"

"I'm looking for her. She needs to come home."

"She is no Munce. She is not here," Murt said.

"You're called Munce?"

"Yes. Better than the nasty Geckles!" Murt cried.

His friend elbowed him. "They are not nasty, Murt. Mimble knows."

"Right," Cole said. "Do you know where she is?"

"We can not tell you," Mimble said. "She does not want to leave."

"Why not?" Cole asked.

Mimble shied away like he had said too much. "No telling. You find no help from Munce."

"You won't tell me where she is?"

"No. Munce no help."

Cole sighed. "All right. That's fine." He turned to leave them behind and spotted a pair of tall doors. "Where do those go?"

Murt put a hand on his shoulder. "We no go there. That is the way to Geckle caverns."

"I'll take my chances." Cole went to them and pushed them open, slipping through and closing them quietly as the three Munce protested. The passageway had many more stalactites covered in moss, and he looked up at them, as if they showed the way. Sure enough, at the end of the tunnel was another pair of doors, which were closing. As he approached he spotted a flash of white, as pale as the princess, in the doorway.

"Princess Vania?" he called. The door shut hastily with a resounding thud.

"Princess Vania, wait!"

[kamiversee]

KAMMMIIIIII that last chapter was AMAZING (also yes the theories on sukuna blackmailing gojo were RIGHT RAAAAAHH)!!!! ok ok ok so here’s the parallels/new info we’ve got so far:

- this is why gojo HATES when the reader calls herself a whore (esp thinking about after she hooks up w sukuna and gojo is driving her and he gets MAD about it)

- this is also why gojo insists on making her hate him bc he knows that’s the whole point, he knows he’s not completely clear of his obsession but he finally understands that what he did was wrong and he can’t let her love him in the way he wants

- YES the stuff abt choso being on there bc sukuna knew she would have feelings for him!!! im still a firm believer that it’s bc sukuna feels bad about what happened w choso and wants to make it up to him in some way but idk if we’ll get to see that through

- ALSO a few sukuna thoughts: sooooo was he being stalked by his ex, the one he ended up hitting? bc he talks about being afraid, and the whole “never let a woman take away what makes you a man” thing could be because he was scared by the situation? idk that just felt too personal

- i also don’t think we ever found out who actually hurt sukuna the night of his party and gave him that bruise (i thought you said at one point that it wasn’t gojo but tbh my brain is a little mushy so that might be wrong), i don’t have many theories on that one just yet but we will be cooking hmmm

- i’ve been SAYIN it but like yes what gojo did was bad. full stop. but! he also really did seem to grow throughout TFL and the idea of him being blackmailed by sukuna makes him much much more sympathetic!!! like he knows you don’t have a job so he comes up w the idea to pay you, he keeps pushing you away bc he knows you shouldn’t love him, ugh just makes my heart hurt for this poor man

- also ….hot take incoming…..but idk that sukuna is as bad as we thought. like rn he’s just trying to protect the reader from what he sees as creepy ass behavior from gojo, presumably he’s had something similar happen, and like yes bro thrives on chaos and wants to hurt us but not just for the purpose of causing pain to a stranger but specifically to punish gojo; idk i’m not here to debate intentions vs actions vs consequences but it’s not like he just did this for laughs he really is trying to make gojo hurt and clearly he has some emotions tied up in this too

- ok rereading that last paragraph idk lmao like bro still (presumably) hits yuji bc gojo also mentions bruises idk idk idk don’t come for me

- something else that stuck out to me that i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt is that in the TFL extra on reader’s wedding night w choso, it’s mentioned that sukuna gives up custody of yuji the same night gojo reveals everything (i think tbh it’s been a min since i read it), but like….why? (i think) that extra was canon and it almost feels like too much of a coincidence but maybe it just is ????? someone else who has better thoughts than i do please share hahahahaha

PHEW this got long but i just had to type it out after all our theories have been coming for so long it’s so exciting to see everything start falling into place!!!! i can’t wait to get back to the run in w sukuna at the gas station AHH i have a feeling bro is about to blow shit up and i cannot wait!!!!

- 🩷

WOOHOOO YAP SESSION

Glad you enjoyed it my love!!! I shall disagree/agree paragraph by paragraph so lets get to unpacking :P

1. Yes! Sukuna was the first and only person Gojo’s ever heard call her such a thing so when the term is later used by the reader herself, it triggers him all over again :)

2. Yes yes yes yes!! This is exactly why Gojo kept telling her that love between them is “forbidden” and why he’d compare it to being a “crime”. You can also see how as tfl goes on, his obsession returns due to him being so close with the reader and finally experiencing her just as he’d always longed to.

3. Mhm! Sukuna is quite the mastermind :3

4. This Sukuna thought is on the right track to say the very least & avoid further spoilers! ^.^

5. Gojo was not the person to hit Sukuna that time!

6. YES I CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. I know he’s bad terrible etc BUT, Gojo does do exactly as he always said he would & changes for the reader to become deserving of her whilst also telling her she cannot be with him… I’d also like to point out how a lot of Gojo girlies said they would’ve picked him right then and there after his confessions but I wonder how they feel now knowing that Gojo would’ve almost never told them about his past actions 🤔

7. Sukuna is… Well, let me say this, there are no true villains nor hero’s in tfl or ftl. No one is completely good & no one is completely bad, both stories are just messy tales of humans figuring life out.

8. Well, Gojo did mention bruises but that is before tfl takes place so we don’t know when exactly Sukuna’s domestic violence stops…

9. Think about two things here— One, Sukuna mentions that the reader deserves some form of happiness out of her, a feeling that could’ve doubled after he experienced her for himself. Two, it’s theorized that Sukuna still wants to make things up to Choso. Similar to Gojo, Sukuna cannot undo what he’s done in the past but he can try to make amends. I hope that makes sense & helps your thoughts ^.^

Im happy to see u excited about this!!! I was excited planning this & writing this >< When we circle back to the gas station & enter the sequel… things will indeed be insane. 🙂‍↕️

[jessthetea]

If he’s the one liking her post, it doesn’t mean that they are still together. He still likes posts from his ex and I do think that he doesn’t want any speculation about it either, so we cannot be 100% sure, but I think that him liking her post does not mean that they are still together.

That is true that he does follow one of his exes and likes her posts and that we cannot be 100% sure but at the same time, let’s think about it. Why now liking a post from her after not acknowledging her and ignoring her on social media for almost 6 months? Why wait three days after her post and two days after his post about honesty on Halloween (a day after Halloween mind you) to just like it especially since he knew Liam? Why not comment on it and why didn’t he make a post of his own ( although I do understand people have their way of grieving/don’t like to post) You cannot tell me that he didn’t see her post the day of because Jamie lurks online all the time, because the day she posted that and his post the next morning is too perfectly timed. So it really would not make sense for him to wait nearly 4 days to like her post to me. We also have to remember that one time when she had posted a snowboarding video, and Jamie only liked it, and then two or three days later I believe “he came back and commented” and the comment doesn’t even sound like something he would say meaning that she’s the one that left the comment especially since she did it when he was filming ST like he is doing now. So it wouldn’t surprise me if she somehow got into his account and left a like because just like the other admin said she saw his tweet freaked out and liked her post from his account. This is the same woman who sent old pictures of him and her at the airport like they’re new to try to debunk the breakup rumors as well (Who else would have those photos? ) so we cannot put it past her. Now whether they still being together or not, from Jamie’s actions and Jess’s constant failed attempts, nine times out of ten they are not together hopefully. Something is definitely going on as to probably why Jamie can’t publicly announce the break up yet and it has Jess written all over it and it’s frustrating but yes without proof, we don’t know until something else happens. But that sudden like to her post is very sketchy.

[oogaboogaspookyman]

[IT'S A ME]

.

.

.

.

[1]

It's been decades since i have seen another mortal soul in front of me

My head had deteriorated alongside with the land, i feel like i died

*ya no wonder you look like a creep don't fuckin' touch Gf she's taken and doesn't accept absolute horrid creatures like you mfer*

[2]

Decades trapped inside this MOTHERFUCKING CONSOLE

Everything around me fell apart just like my brain, Super Mario is now no more

*dayum yeah that be rough but did i ask? Fucker?*

(I HAD DECAYED)

[3]

No turning back now, the damage is done

Let's see if you'd like it if i were to pull you apart too!

*yeah you a bitch fuck off go bother someone else, sonic.exe wannabe I AM GOD head ass bitchass dumbass stupid ass goofyass no bitches having ass*

[4]

I'm gonna have a lotta fun tearing you apart, inch by agonizing inch!

The both of you are gonna be my playthings 'till the very end!

*what did i fuckin' say. EXEs never change, it's all the same damn thing y'know, so cheesy it's even funny man shut up*

[5]

It's-a me, just Super Mario in the flesh!

This old plumber is gonna shove your innards inside a pipe, they'll never find your body before you rot!

*yeah yeah same ol' same ol' bs shut yo ass up you're annoying*

(you're gonna rot inside the pipes, and nobody will ever tell you're GONE)

[6]

It's been decades since i had seen another human being in my now godly presence

My humanity had become naught but a faint memory in the depths of my subconcious

Do you know the feeling of your soul watching your own body rotting and fading away, so powerless?

*don't fuckin' trauma dump on me you bitch fuck you, dipshit*

(ME, I HAVE DIED)

(YET, I CAN BREATHE)

[7]

Kill you

I'll kill you, rip you up into little pieces

Eat your remains, your innards, you're gonna die!

*🖕😐🖕* (AUTHOR'S NOTE: wHEEZE-)

[8]

Decades trapped inside this stupid fucking console, left to ROT

I WATCHED MY OWN BODY DIE WITH MY OWN EYES

*yeah that's definetly traumatic but did i fuckin' ask* (author's note: MAN FUCK OFF)

(YOU'RE GONNA DIE LIKE I HAVE BEFORE)

[9]

LET'S NOT WASTE ANY MORE TIME

I'M ABOUT TO RIP OUT YOUR SPINE

YOUR SOUL WILL BELONG TO ME

YOUR FLESH WILL BE ALL MINE TO EAT

NOW THE BOTH OF YOU WILL BE MY PLAYTHINGS

YOUR FATE WAS SET IN MOTION THE MOMENT YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON THE CARTRIDGE

YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE HELL YOU'VE UNLEASHED UPON YOURSELF

*oh no the track just became even more of a banger oh nooo this means bad things are gonna happen whatever will i doooooo fuck you*

[10]

NOW, LET'S SET THIS SHIT STRAIGHT, PLAY OUR ONE THRILLING GAME

LET'S PLAY TAG, SEE IF YOU CAN OUTRUN MY KNIFE, LITTLE BLUEBALLS BOY

*okay- out of character here- i love how i'm so like "man shut yo bitchass up i don't want no killer Mario tryna ruin my day fuck you" meanwhile for some reason Bf is canonically afraid for his life and his Gf's safety like- YOU'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE AND YOU SURVIVED BECAUSE THEY WERE FUCKING STUPID AS SHIT MY GUY oh wait good part incoming hol' up*

(GO ON)

(RUN OFF)

(TRY ME)

[11]

GO AHEAD AND TRY, RUN FROM ME AND DELAY THE INEVITABLE, SEE IF IT DOES YOU ANY GOOD, KEEP YOUR SOUL AWAY FROM ME

[12]

THE FLAMES OF MY HELLHOLE WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE BEFORE YOU EVEN SET FOOT IN YOUR MORTAL REALM

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH THE WRONG FORCES OUTSIDE OF YOUR CONTROL

NOW YOU WILL PAY

*OOOHHHH*

*oh yo this is actually awesome hold ON YO*

*YOOOOO*

(IT'S-A ME, JUST SUPER MARIO, ABOUT TO SHOW YOU THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS)

[WE'RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN]

[JUST ME AND YOU]

[alexa-yukiyu]

Little Gardener's Pirate Odyssey Chapter 4

A/N Okay . I will be the first to admit this one is. kinda meh, but it is. a filler that I needed to add to tie a few knots from the last chapter and to better connect with the following chapters

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“So I guess her powers were always there inside of her; they just.. Needed to be awoken.” He glances back down at Alex and rubs her back gently and softly, keeping her close as she sleeps.

“Ah, there’s one thing you should be aware of.”

“And that is?” He says, glancing up at Viridi, his expression of surprise and curiosity growing as if he’s eager to hear this final piece of information.

“Because of her dark and grime origins, Alexandra has developed quite the fear of stars, so do tread carefully on starry nights.”

“I see,” he says, understanding.

“Alright, so I should avoid bringing her outside on nights with many stars, is that right? Anything else you wanted me to know?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sure you have noticed quite a few of her quirks already, and I’m sure you will have time to know the rest, as I’m sure she will want to stick in this world for a while to have adventures. “

“Alright,” he says, seeming to be in agreement,

“Well, I do have one last question, though, if you don’t mind?” He looks at Viridi, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“Yes?”

“Well, I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted me to do to keep her safe?” He looks down at Alexandra in his lap. He seems eager to do anything he can to help, especially if it will ensure Alex’s safety.

She shakes her head. “Now, that’s up to you to figure it out. Can’t tell you everything now, can we? I will give you a hint. However, she cannot lie, so take that as you will.”

“Mhm, okay,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“I think I can work with that.” He looks down at Alexandra again, seemingly taking in all the information he just heard,

“Of course, now let us retire for the night. im sure we have given you plenty to think about until tomorrow,”

Alright then,” he says, letting go of Alexandra and getting up to his feet, “

Well then, I’ll see you guys both tomorrow.” He gives a final smile to both Viridi and Rogue and then starts walking towards the door.

Rogue grumbles as he cuddles close to Alexandra, wrapping both of his tails around her and tucking his hooves and pas underneath him

“I still fail to see what you see in him; he could be dangerous.”

“Come on now, Rogue, we can’t isolate her. Let her have some other connections; we’ll be with her every step of the way to protect her,” she says as she flutters in between Rogue’s antlers to settle for the night.

He rolls his eyes at this but closes them as Viridi follows his actions.

Once the ray of sunshine penetrates their room, Rogue slowly awakens, glancing at Alexandra and startling awake once he notices she’s not there.

“Oi Viridi, wake up, she’s gone!”

“Already?!” she says, shooting up.

They are both startled by a scream sounding eerily familiar and run towards the scene.

Sanji stirs awake from sleep after hearing the scream, his senses immediately on high alert. He sits up in bed, waiting for his environment to come back into focus, trying to figure out what he just heard and why someone was screaming before he realized who it was. His heart sinks as the realization starts to fully hit him of what his ears had just picked up.

Sanji quickly jumps out of bed, grabbing his clothes and dressing himself as he races towards the source of the scream, his mind rushing to figure out what’s going on to come to the worst possible conclusion. He hears Rogue’s voice yelling in anger, making his steps increase in speed as he reaches the scene.

The next chapter will be much more wholesome, and ya'll will get to see more of Alexandra's powers in action! Much more Dadji, too.

[rigil-kentauris]

URIANGER: 2,4, 7 OR 8 (whichever you prefer), 15-16-OR-17 (again, preference), 20, 23

RUBS MY GREEDY LITTLE HANDS TOGETHER HELL YEAH

urianger my beloved

okay let me go dig up my questions

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I LOVE HIS THEE AND THOU-ING. I especially love the fact that. There's no reasons like culturally for him to be like this, most sharlayans talk normally, if not a touch more formally. he made himself like this. i adore it.

i forget here it is (if its an npc who says it or if its a lorebook thing) but i like the part where the lore says hes Like This because of all those damn prophecy tomes he was on as a little kid. so i just imagine tiny little urianger looking at Ye Old Prophies and COMMITTING. he is precious to me

Small thing: I also love his stupid two sets of goggles when in his Potato Sack era.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

hmm... i feel like if i just sent him off on his own, he would wilt a bit. i would want to put him in something that gave him a fun, relaxing time, and think if thats to be accomplished I would have to send some of his People with him. he's been alone an awful lot and i see those as times that have also been or ended Bad. i think that might be something he dwells on.

OH I KNOW. okay weird one. but. BUT. hear me out. i would send him to Roller Coaster Tycoon. I know that's just technically just like a theme park but when i build them they are the BEST POSSIBLE THEME PARKS IN THE WORLD. if he could bring than, ryne, and gaia along, i just know he'd be really fulfilled by having a Fun Family Trip. i kind of see him as the guy who happily holds the bags and waits at the end of the ride. and i KNOW gaias got bags. also i feel like he is taking pictures and making the kids wear silly Park Gear. they go to some of the slow like Sitting and or Show type rides for him.

also if he was in RCT i could pick him up and Dangle him. not like malevolently but with the same emotion as I would have if I was Rotating Him

also also i have. forgotten everything ive ever read played or watched so im sure i have a better answer rolling around in there but alas.

7/8. What’s something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like/despise?

I don't actually know much about the fandom takes on Urianger. Most of what I see is people analyzing his actions w/ The Warriors of Darkness and in Shadowbringers, and I haven't seen it be unfair yet. I think, though, I am not deep in the Fandom.

OH you know what I do hate. Every now and again people will mishear a bit about 1.0, and start popping off about how ~~~~~~secretly~~~~ Urianger is ACTUALLY a millennial old WISE and SCHEMING IMMORTAL WIZARD~~~~~~. I cannot blame anyone for thinking that, but it drives me off the wall. hes a 29 year old weird PhD haver who went around at aetherytes and chanting his insane End Of The World prophecies, he wears EITHER potato sack OR a backless dress and the only thing he knows how to do other than is eat hot chip be bisexual and tell the most insane lies possible. actually come to think of it i feel like HE was the one who started the insane lie ' is ACTUALLY a millennial old WISE and SCHEMING IMMORTAL WIZARD' so. either that or it was a general team effort. im getting into the weeds here so i digress.

urianger is so weird. i love him.

15. What’s your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not.)

I'm on that Urianger/Than ship if the bit about the theme park didn't give me away lol. I also like Uri/Moen but if I had to pick one it would be Uri/Than. Uri/Moen makes me sad to think about...

16/17. What’s your least favorite ship for this character?

Lol I havehit up the archive for this one. I'm genuinely not sure what the most popular ships are for Uri outside of Thancred. My guess is Uri/WoL, then Moen. But lets see.

lmao i opened the ffxiv tag and the first fic is an Uri/Than fic ive been reading which YIPPE! its updated!

okay im back its all than/uri and some uri/WoL. there are other ships but i got to the point where there were so few it would feel like kicking a life-raft to mention them.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn’t matter?

I thought about this long and hard. I went at it from every logical angle. I took apart his characteristics, history, things he's done and to who. Interests, likes dislikes. I thought HARD.

I could NOT shake my immediate and initial thought of Estinien. I haven't got a stick to shake at my pile of evidence I just feel this in my heart.

I guess I was very impacted by uh... when was it. The Scions were in the Rising Stones, and Uri was mentioning he was going to get some books or something to try and share with Estinien to get to know him. It was the most endearing shit I have ever seen and it cut me to the bone. I think probably that attempt did not work but I do not care. GO FOR IT URIANGER! i also, i suppose, wonder how many friends Uri has every actively tried to make himself. like in childhood it seemed more like moenbryda Selected him, and that not many other kids liked him. his complicated history with the scions is complicated, but i think obviously he has to put in active effort to maintain those relationships (ESPECIALLY SINCE HE LOVE HOT CHIP LIES), but a lot of his character development w/ the scions seems more akin to 'hey this is the guy on our team we've known each other for like a decade so we are friends now' and less akin to 'hi my name is urianger can i show you some cool books'

its just intriguing to me why he did that. i hope so much it works out.

also come to think of it i dont know how many friends ESTINIEN have sought out of his own volition. he actively avoids aymeric half the time. orn kahi appears to have also gone the moenbryda route of Mine Now. tataru and krile had to actively hunt and Blackmail him into the scions. certainly i would call him friends with us now, and he cares a lot about alphinaud, but as far as Who Reached Out To Who, i think he is actually in the same boat as uri. huh.

vrtra, i think, is it. though i haven't had enough review time to say who lead that one.

now i want to see uri and estinien sitting silently in a room doing their own separate silent tasks (uri is reading a Tome, estinien is Caring For Weapons) SPECIFICALLY so i can caption it 'tag two blokes who do fuck all'. maybe its alisaie sneaking a bad blurry picture over her shoulder with her front camera and sending it to alphinaud.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

oh man i dont know. theres so much good ingame content and there SO MUCH GOOD ART and i do not have ANY of it tagged by character. let me go look.

OH NO I KNOW this is my favorite image of urianger of all time i want to cry every time i look at it. the fucking. expressions. i cant possibly describe in words how MUCH i feel when viewing this image. im going to pop.

[hughungrybear]

Me watching Dangerous Romance Ep. 6

1. Why do I get a feeling that Pimfah is only saying she likes Sailom to push Kang into action? Am I wishful thinking? 😭

2. I mean, we all know it's coming, but ouch! Welcome to the Friendzone, Kang 😅. Anyway, I feel like the only reason why he likes Pimfah is because their fathers are friends and Kang doesn't know any better.

3. Well, this is going to be awkward — Sailom silently supporting Kang's crush on Pimfah, Kang thinking he needs to fire Sailom as a tutor and give him away to Pimfah (as if Sailom is a toy), and Pimfah, well I still don't know what Pimfah's real deal is 😅

4. Perth playing football reminds me of Pete from Love by Chance. ☺️

5. I'm been thinking about this since the 2gether series, but why is the cheer routine for these schools basically just hand gestures? I used to to do competitive cheerdance from the age of 11 to 16 (Years 6 to 10 equiv. in Australia). Let me tell you, at the end of each practice right until the competition, my body is aching in places I never knew can feel pain lol 😅😅😅

6. So, Nava isn't a complete asshole. I guess this is the start of my GuyNava ship lol. I am really rooting for Marc and Pawin since My Gear and Your Gown did them dirty.

7. Wait, so Pimfah does like Sailom? Why? How? You two barely interacted throughout the previous episodes. WTH 😭

8. Yeah, I don't think Pimfah is talking about her bandaged ankle 😭😭😭

9. Kang, dude. I don't know how your thought process works but Sailom can reject whoever he wants to reject just because. Sailom doesn't need to list his reasons why he doesn't romantically likes Pimfah. Also, get an effing clue lol (but then again, Sailom confessed so...🤭🤭🤭)

10. Oh my lords, Sailom is eating noodles silently. In the dark. So K-Drama protagonist of him. 😅

11. After getting beaten up by loan sharks in earlier episode in their own living room, you would think Sailom (and Saifah) would learn to lock their front door 😅😅😅

12. I really, really hope Kang does not mistake his apparent genuine care for Sailom as guilt. Athough, I'm still triggered he let Sailom sleep on that sofa without a blanket.

13. Wait, Kang-Sailom-Guy is another love triangle that I do not wished for. 😭😭😭 Make it right, GMMTV.

14. There it is. Tbf, he does a lot of good things for Sailom right after he did something bad that caused trouble for Sailom in the first place.

15. Well then, ouch. Sailom, baby, let me hug you.😔😔😔

16. Uhm, Guy, now is not the time to antagonize Kang. I mean, you are teammates. Also, look at that, Sailom cannot help but to cheer for Kang.

17. Yeah, why are the teammates only cheering for Guy when Kang passed the ball? Wtf.

18. I don't know how to feel about the kiss. On one hand, it is non-consentual. On the other, this is a BL and Sailom has been pining for so long. 😐

Next episode, Kang will try to win over Sailom's friends (even Guy). I can already see Kang's jealousy from here. Oi vey.

[starrynightarchive]

🧠for Chuuya, 🛒, 🥺, and 🤯

Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them

chuuya has quite a lot of physical illnesses. that man uses corruption. what do you mean his body is in perfect condition. yes yes he's fit he's strong but that man has Issues. chronic pains. and my personal favourite: myoclonic epilepsy. fry his nerves your honour

2. What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

this is. a hard question. let me consult my friends first-

and love. so so much love. my writing is filled w love of all kinds. i specialize in platonic and familial love, if you will. and yes cyber i consulted you for your own ask. I'm not sorry <3

3. Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

yep. wait i'll show you

...yeah. you see why im in my feels? yeah.

4. What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)

hmmm action, i think. cannot describe movements without sounding repetitive. wdym i have to write fight scenes without dying (I'm exaggerating I've written them before it's just. hard to write.)

[iguessitsjustme]

Deep Night Ep 5 Thoughts

Oops. Got distracted by Stardew Valley and also the return of my headache. Here’s hoping the meds kick in soon. But also I got the Stray Kids merch I ordered! Now I’m living in my new hoodie. Anyway it’s time for Deep Night 5: Rae Blogs Live. Wait no that one is too easy. Deep Night 5: Jealousy Dive. Yeah that one sounds right:

Who is hiring these unfluencers to talk shit when the police come? That’s a typo but I’m keeping it. Cause there’s no way they’re not in on it

I don’t know what Freya pays Dai but it is not enough. 

I don’t think I talked about the opening vocals when I liveblogged episode 4. So here’s me gushing about how absolutely fucking amazing they are. I do not think this would be an easy song to sing. It sounds easy but that’s because of the sheer talent and skill its being performed with. Like, I’m a passably decent singer. I can carry a tune. I am not the most impressive vocalist in the world but I have had multiple people ask me if I sing professionally or as a hobby somewhere. I would not be able to perform this song without HOURS of practice. Vocals are also an instrument that requires practice and technique and I am just so damn impressed with these vocals. I think the song itself is okay, but the singer does so much. The singer is actively carrying the melody and I cannot. I’ll stop talking about this now but if you want my thoughts on how the opening fits the show, let me know. Cause I do have some thoughts there but I think I should probably actually continue watching now

Freya and unnamed gorgeous woman are so cute. What is her name? I need to know for reasons. 

Unrelated to anything but I am having an excellent hair day and I am annoyed that only I will see it. 

Seiji. You can love both of them. I promise. It’s okay. They’re gonna fall in love with each other too. I don’t know if they actually do in the show but don’t worry about that. Semantics. You’ll all be in love.

Ken can be the one that tucks them both into bed at night. 

I need Khem to apologize to Wela so bad. He very clearly actually feels bad and wants to apologize.

Honestly, I don’t think I could say no to Khem’s face. I mean just look at how cute he is

Awww he apologized. Now make it a good one.

I love them????

Now boys. You’re on the roof. Not even gonna lay down a towel or nothing?

Ooohhhh here comes his mother. Oh she got distracted. Seems Wela knows his mother well. But still. The roof? Boys. 

Khem is very good at apologizing. It’s because he thinks about how his words and actions have hurt the people he loves. And he cares more about not hurting them than he does about being right. And I think he will not make the same mistakes twice. 

Obsessed with this. More please. 

Khem and his mom are so cute. 

I’m sure someone else has talked about Khem giving Wela his watch and how that was so good for both of them. Khem can lay a small inconspicuous claim on Wela and when Wela is working he can use it to show Khem that he’s thinking of him so no need to get jealous. Its beautiful and brilliant. 

My man don’t do drugs in the bathroom. This isn’t the club for that.

Of course the cops showed up. Good for Khem knowing someone hired that man to do drugs. 

Honestly are the cops not bored?

I know what pink milk is. But what is red soda?

Is Ken gonna rat them out? Trying to make Seiji number 1? Got bad news about who Khem is and how his mom already knows. But I still see how that could be an issue. 

I mean, Seiji makes a good point. These issues did start when Khem started. It’s not his fault and it’s obvious who it is but he has no way to know that. 

Ken’s a bitch. I actually don’t like him. There was no reason for him to do that.

Yeah somehow I knew Seiji wouldn’t like that.

Get him Seiji. Get im.

I am so surprised that that woman showed up with the cops. Shocked I tell ya. Picking my jaw up off the floor. 

Time to watch episode 6 I guess. I don’t really care about this plotline but I’ll watch it anyway. But only after this commercial break (I caved and subscribed to dropout so i can watch game changer so that is what i will be doing for a minute between these episodes)