#god now. too many bad things happened to the shining gems in a collection of wild alcoholics. but its not all bad. my family's staying close

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[fairestwriting]

title: a treasure hunt of sorts

word count: 2696

summary: Malleus had been gifting Ellis gems, recently, so many that they were piling up and he wouldn't know what to do with them even if he actually understood the meaning behind the gift. After some "careful consideration", he decides to give something back.

commissioned by @nymphgrotto​ , also available on ao3 here ! tysm for the commission, i hope you enjoy it!

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested

Everything in the Ramshackle dorm building creaks, floorboards and doors and ceiling threatening to collapse in a way that Ellis somehow had just grown used to. Door shut behind him, he walks noisy steps towards the lounge, leaving the beautiful night outside, and placing a red gem the size of his palm on the coffee table.

Another one. The fifth one he’d gotten this week, and they were only halfway through it.

The gems gather on top of the surface like freshly picked fruits, full of color and life and almost glaring at him in their little shiny pile. He slides the blazer off, tossing it somewhere — Grim was asleep at this point, it’s fine if he wasn’t being the best influence — and lets himself collapse on the plush stuffing of the couch.

The gems were a gift from Malleus Draconia — A name that strikes fear into many students’ hearts, for reasons Ellis just couldn’t see. They had met by chance outside Ramshackle, Malleus was taking a nightly stroll and they just ended up chatting for a reason or another. He found out bits and pieces of information every time they saw each other. That he liked abandoned buildings and the night sky, that he was very knowledgeable about gargoyles and owned a tamagotchi, then his name that he had been refusing to actually tell. They hit it off and became friends. Malleus was a person Ellis liked to be around.

And a person he had an exponentially growing crush on, he admits, but just to himself for now. He sighs again, head in his hands. His crush, putting a different precious gem in his hand every night. It should have been a dream scenario, but he just doesn’t get it. The way Malleus does it is so unaffected, they couldn’t be heartfelt gifts at all. It looked like he was lending him money.

Maybe that’s what’s happening, he thinks tiredly, looking around the inside of the building. He had been cleaning up for most of the semester, it managed to look decent now, if only a little like somewhere a grandmother would live, but that was cozy in its own way. The outside was still screwed up, though, so maybe Malleus trying to help him with repairs? Ellis stares at the pile of gems, they stare back. With the amount all of them were worth, they were probably enough to cover all the costs needed to polish Ramshackle’s outside, so maybe…

...he really didn’t want his crush, a guy so lofty and admirable, to think he just couldn’t do something like that by himself, though. The very thought of it makes him uneasy.

He sighs. Maybe he should talk it out with someone, he was burning up his brain cells just thinking by himself like this. He scrolls through names in his contact list before stopping on Cater’s. Cater had mentioned talking to Malleus before, right? And he didn’t seem scared. Plus he may have been aware of Ellis’ crush, even half so — Though that’s sort of embarrassing, it’s not like he’d been trying to hide.

But it’s okay, the phone makes its dialing noise. “Hey, Cater?”

“Ellis! Hi hi.” Cater chimes from the other side of the line. Ellis could hear ruffling even through the phone, maybe he just moved around on his bed. “What’s up!”

“Malleus.” Ellis starts, leaning back against the couch. Thank god it was so comfy, right. “Has he ever brought you, um… gems and stuff? Like really expensive looking things?”

There’s silence.

“Uh, no?” Cater responds mid a confused laugh. “...why are you asking that? We don’t really talk.”

“I don’t know.” Ellis admits, shaking his head in defeat. “He’s been giving me gems all week and I don’t get it. I thought maybe you knew something since you’ve talked to him...once? That’s more than most people here, anyways.”

Cater hums, a short pause. “Well, I really can’t tell what that means.”

Another sigh, another feeling of defeat. Ellis sinks on the couch.

“Ugh. Do you think he feels bad about the state of the dorm or something? I like gifts as much as everyone else, but…” He sighs. “I just wanna know what’s going on in his head.”

“Y’know, they’re still gems, I don’t get why you’re complaining. And you’re so curious about him too.”

“I just wanna know.” He huffs, face feeling hot. “I feel bad I’m not giving him anything back, is all. Gifts are nice but this is too much.”

“Ehh, you wanna one up Malleus?” He asks, voice incredulous. Do I wanna do that? Ellis finds himself wondering. Is that what this is about?

“I mean, I might as well try, right.” He says. He thinks of it as a joke, but it might not really be one. Looking up to Malleus all the time felt… kind of lame, sometimes, Ellis wanted him to look up to him too. His heart feels heavy thinking about it — But he does.

“Okay, that’s just crazy.” Cater laughs from the other side of the line, mixing with the ruffling sound again.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe.” He laughs back, but, again, he’s actually thinking about it. He can’t help but think about it. What if he actually impressed Malleus this time? He wonders how he’d look.

They say their goodbyes after more idle chatter and Ellis has his flushed cheeks on his hands, pulling his knees closer to his body. He’s tried doing something impressive before, though it usually just ends up going humorously wrong… but, but, maybe this time it’d work. He stares at the gems on the coffee table. These could be the clue he needed.

A wide-eyed Malleus comes to mind. If things went like that, maybe the messages he’d been wanting to send with all the casual affection would get through. Even if Malleus didn’t like him back — That was a scary thought, but he knew it wouldn’t ruin their friendship, Malleus wasn’t like anyone else — he’d been wanting to tell him in a way where he could actually understand, visualize how deep his feelings had been running. This seemed like the perfect chance.

He dreams of emeralds in a treasure room that night.

. . .

He knew that this, at least, was something Malleus would like — Ellis can’t help but giggle in excitement while he drags him around the woods, clutching at his hand, hearing the crunching of leaves under their shoes and the subtle howling of the wind.

“So, tonight,” He introduces, voice chimy and full of energy. Malleus is standing right behind him in his towering glory. His stare is mostly blank, but Ellis somewhat knows how to decode it, and he can see a glint of curiosity there. They stop in front of an assortment of rocks that made up something looking like a gate. “I was thinking we could go looking for gems in this little cave? I heard from some guys that it has a lot of interesting stuff inside!”

Some guys was a chain of information that started with Rook, who had been doing god knows what in the cave, but what mattered now is that Ellis would go there, and he would find something that would blow Malleus away.

“A cave,” Malleus repeats, blinking. His long hair sways with the wind, lime green glow emitted from his eyes — He did things to his heart, honestly, even just being there — as he looks at Ellis with amusement. “Is that… a common outing for your culture, Child of Man?”

“I mean, not really? But I like collecting things.” He says, a bit sheepish as they begin to walk inside. It’s dark, but that’s an issue easily solved by flicking his flashlight on. “And I thought you might like this.”

Malleus chuckles, and that does more to his heart than him just standing here. “I see,” He says, the amusement visible. Ellis can’t help the excited smile beginning to show up on his face. This was it. “I do think it could be interesting.”

“Yeah!” He chimes. Shining the light forwards, he inspects the path in front of them as they walk further away from the entrance — It was safe, right? A lot of people seemed to have been there, plus it wasn’t exactly hard to move inside, the ground wasn’t as rocky as the walls “I heard they have gems deeper inside? Uh, it might be a little creepy for a bit, though.”

Malleus hums. The glow of his eyes shows up more at every step they take towards the inner parts of the cave, shrouded in darkness. Looks magical, Ellis’ brain unhelpfully reminds him, majestic, beautiful.

(He needed to get that confession out already, and yet…)

“I’m not displeased with this place, though.” Malleus’ voice makes a light echo. “It reminds me of home in a way.”

“Home? Like in the Valley of Thorns?” He asks, wincing when he steps against what seemed to be a tree branch, cracking it into two. How do things like that end up here, anyway?

“It’s a very rocky scenery. Tall mountains and thorn bushes, dark almost all year long.” Malleus explains. “I remember seeing it through my room’s window.”

“You know, that’s kind of cool in a way, I’ve never been somewhere like that.” He comments, thumb resting over the flashlight’s switch. He feels fidgety trying to visualize the Valley of Thorns in his mind, then briefly entertaining the thought of actually being there, with him too… “Is the palace all dark too?”

“Darkness is associated with royalty, so naturally it is.” He speaks. There’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice, almost. It’s strangely warm thinking of a smaller Malleus walking around a big, imposing dark castle, and still making all those sweet childhood memories there. It’s a testament to Malleus himself, maybe. The contrast between the imposing exterior and the softer interior. “It's tall, built in black bricks a long time ago, surrounded by thorn bushes…”

“You should bring me there one day.” Ellis suggests. His voice comes out sweet, it always does — And he hopes Malleus can notice why, he wants him to. But he doesn’t expect it at this point.

(Because if there’s one thing about Malleus’ he’s learned, it’s that genius or not, everything just flew right over his head, and flirting with him was a battle you lost before you even started fighting.)

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Malleus says mid a chuckle, and his heart flutters. Oh to have a tour around Malleus’ hometown. Maybe there wasn’t much more to see at the place than thorn bushes, but Ellis thought about it insistently anyways. The things that made it unique, and the things about it that Malleus carried over. It’s insistent curiosity and his equally insistent crushing.

He glances forward as he smiles, recalling what he’d been told about the cave. They should be getting to the part with the cool rocks (Cater’s words, not his, maybe not even Cater’s either, since he got that from Ace who got it from someone else… you know how it is) now, Ellis is excited. He’s read up a little bit on gems before doing this. Surely Malleus would be caught off guard by that too, if he was interested in them, then they could choose one to bring home, and it’d be like jewelry shopping, kind of, maybe…

But jewelry stores don’t have swarms of bats in it, and caves do — And in they come, screechy noises and motion blur, and Ellis wasn’t thinking about the presence of bats at all, so he completely flips out, jumping in shock with a yelp and dropping the flashlight.

Dropping himself, actually, tripping on a damned rock and almost falling on top of Malleus as he hears the crack of his light falling, rolling somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Careful, Child of Man—”

Ellis blinks, looking around to try and find that light, but it’s nowhere to be seen — Not that he could see anything, the place was shrouded in darkness now — and his breath quickens with panic, damn it this wasn’t what…

“The flashlight?” Ellis asks, voice frantic. “Damn it, I can’t see it, I…”

Malleus’ eyes are still glowing green.

“I’m guessing you can’t see in the dark?”

“No?” He sputters. What, now he could see in the dark too? Malleus’ abilities are usually interesting to hear about, but now… “Ugh, the flashlight…”

“It’s not anywhere near us.” He informs unhelpfully. “Fallen from a drop. Perhaps I should guide us back.”

He sighs, heavy and tired. Great, there went his plans, everything down the drain again. Usually he could just laugh something like this off, but…

Maybe he had higher hopes for tonight.

“Yeah, I guess.” Ellis mumbles. “Sorry, in the end we couldn’t really do anything cool.”

“We still have time for a stroll near the woods, don’t we?” He can’t see Malleus’ face, exactly, just the outline of his eyes dotting the black dye, but with the way they move he guesses he may have tilted his head. “And I’ve actually enjoyed visiting this cave, short as our outing was.”

“...yeah, b-but I wanted to impress you.” His face feels hot, mostly with shame, the stutter comes with the blurting out of the words. He hates being upset like this, and yet— “You’re always the one doing cool things, disappearing in thin air and leaving fireflies behind, bringing me all that stuff… I wanted to do it too, I guess, especially with you bringing me all those gems for reasons I still don’t know why. I wanted you to… l-like me more, I guess, because I really like you.”

Too many words. He feels his core burn, but they’d been spinning around in his mind for so long now, at some point it was meant to come out. At least, even if Malleus hated that, he wouldn’t…

“Child of Man,” He speaks, voice clear and blank after a pause. There it comes, Ellis thinks dejectedly, though he doesn’t know exactly what bad thing he’s expecting. “Ellis.”

But that’s his name. His agape mouth closes. Was it that bad? One might worry his heartbeat would start echoing into the empty cave.

“...I believe there may have been a misunderstanding here.”

He shakes his head, heart twisting. “N-No, it’s okay, I get that you don’t…”

“Are you not aware of dragon courting traditions?”

Ellis feels his heart both drop the ground and soar at the same time.

“...the gifting of gems. I’d been trying to tell you about… how I feel, I suppose, for a while.” He says, and his voice sounds different. Quieter. Guilty? Ellis can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but he wonders if Malleus is blushing.

And the image of it in his mind makes him want to look away, even as he can’t.

“There’s been a misunderstanding after all.” Malleus sighs. Yeah, his voice is different. Airy, light, something to it that has Ellis’ face burning. “If you’ve been thinking you could make me like you any more than I already do.”

It feels like an impossible dream to have something like this happen, in this damn cave of all places too, but the smile makes its way into his lips and doesn’t leave, lopsided or not. The laughter starts bubbling up. And on his first snicker, he has Malleus’ confusion too.

“Are you laughing at my confession?” He asks when the snickers turn into a full on laugh, one that has him wiping tears off his eyes with his sleeves.

“G-God, no way, I’m just laughing ‘cause we’re both so stupid…” Ellis shakes his head. Who would have known, huh. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Then we can go for that walk you wanted. I think it’d be nice.”

“As you wish, then.” He replies, and Ellis feels his hand on his, warmth spreading across him. It’s really a dream— “Would that mean we are… dating, now?”

Oh to see the great Malleus asking him all these dorky questions. “Maybe. Let’s get out of here first.”

The light from the entrance shines back onto them soon.

[nunc-flore]

have some concept playlists !!

chill in various moods and genres!

chill in classickal [ when music gets so good u wanna straight up eat it ]

chill in celthicc [ breeng thy begpeipe lass ]

chill in archaic [ enjoy your symposium lads ]

chill in swing [ feelin pretentious today? i got u fam ]

chill in techno [ when the world sucks. no exceptions. ]

chill in arab [ beautiful tunez from the lands of the sun ]

chill in lo-fi [ beep boop bzzt? ]

chill in medieval ballads [ smasheth thou instrumenth, brother]

chill in funk [ funk up lads]

chill in indie [ your raw tenderness starter-pack]

don’t chill in punk [ oi! oi! oi! ]

chill in 80s bops [ what is technicolor if not a digital rainbow ]

chill in norse [ Heill þú farir! heill þú aftr komir! heill þú á sinnum sér! ]

chill in soul [it’s not the waking it’s the rising // nina cried power]

chill in 70s wood-chopping jams (still a stub) [chill, man]

chill in opera [ angelic crowds chanting "he needs some milk" ]

chill in jazz (still a stub) [ sweet music playing in the dark ]

chill in 20s-to-50s music that's not jazz nor swing nor soul [dance and drink like it's the 20s y'all (please stay clear of all the nationalism and the crippling sense of collective doom, thank you) ]

chill in yeehaw [ april is the cruellest month, ain't it? ]

chill in ye olde shanty [ a-hoy captain! ]

and many more, as time goes by!

actual concept playlists

summer indie - guitar themed tracks about life and death and all that’s in between

ingenium voluntatis - r e d  y e a r n i n g  but make it existential. it starts well but something happens. probably society and its non-sense rules. 

the apocalypse and other related catastrophes, merrily told by yours truly - the world is ending and shit is going down. but is it? are you certain this is the world and not some other unnameable thing? are you already dead? is it the apocalypse you dreamed, the one you’ve been waiting for, or is it too slow-boiled? deathly, rotting acceptance of the end of times, with a hint of child-like storytelling.

gotta go FAST -  it’s 34°C. the streets are a desert. you’re 20 minutes late. run.

daydreaming on main - can we stay like this forever? lost in a neo-classical painting, full of celestial things, and symmetry, dreaming away.

dreamy drum pop - is it a dream? are you in love with a dream, in the street of some ancient, modern city, following their shadow? or are you just having a bad case of hypotension? we may never know.

an evening in beige - cruelly posh but in a classy, bitter, hollow way

ready for the lazarus pit, shaka-brah! - a collection to sell your soul to a demonic entity of your choosing to. mostly dark techno, but with a classical twist.

chillin! - or the "dude put on some good music" playlist - when you’re chilling with laid-back pals and they ask you to put on some music and you need a quick, safe, society-tolerable playlist to hit shuffle on and leave there

sweet music playing in the dark - jazz n stuff, some old gems. also, the songs quoted by Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier.

time. - feel the flow of endless thing going by. the clock is ticking, but what the hell is time, anyway?

audiobooks!! - it’s what it says on the tin, my dudes. including: macbeth, metamorphosis, orlando, the call of cthulhu, iliade, the time machine, the tell-tale heart, the black cat, dr. jekyll and mr.hyde, pride and prejudice, black beauty, treasure island, the phantom of the opera, de profundis, frankenstein, carmilla, beowulf, dracula, the raven

fuck this, keep running - from society. from civilization. it’s just you and your ideas against the world, kid. let’s go give them hell. they will never take us alive. 

oh gee golly what a disaster - oh, this is bad. //  that's so sad alexa play this playlist

a witch in the woods - in the throat of the forest, whispered chants and incantations. it’s the voice of the survivors, the ones that escaped the pyre. hush now and dream.

till the end of the world and back - it’s ride or die. the cavalry's here and it's here to stay. 

italian oldies - italian culture. every italian i've ever met knows every single one of these by heart somehow.

:))))))) - am i happy? am i on the edge of a mental breakdown? have i gone completly insane? gee golly! who knows

stars, who am i? - did someone say existential crisis?

personal hyperuranium - my happy, serene place. when everything is too much close your eyes and listen to this. 

young punks, get off my lawn - wreaking havoc with ur gang  / girl gang.

self torment - me @ myself: why r u like this

razzle dazzle jazzle - you like jazz? 

knightess in a shining armor - heroines with swords, here’s to you

playlists inspired by stuff!

songs to be a flamboyant asshole to - swag walk. i blame anthony jantony crowley for this. 

the mad prophet - loosely inspired by friedrich nietzsche’s theories

the star traveller - laugh hard, run fast, be kind // inspired by the thirteenth doctor

getting to it, that's not the hard part. it's letting go. - i left my heart, 3 friends, and 37 gold bars in the sierra madre // inspired by Fallout New Vegas - Dead Money

pew-pew // (i'm three ounces of whoop-ass) - "Another female operative broke into my house and attacked me." "What did she want?"  "Dinner." | a killing eve playlist

les mis, les amis - those brave fellows. honestly, squad goals.

prince(ss) of verona - inspired by a theatrical performance of Romeo and Juliet, in which the prince of verona was. well. she was powerful.

can't stop, won't stop - healing boost of healthy, uplifting electro music comin your way! ispired by Overwatch’s Lúcio Correia dos Santos 

chloe eliz4bet2 price m0od - hella punk but also hella sad // inspired by chloe price, from life is strange

rachel amber mood - hey i've just met you and this is crazy but heres my number so let's burn down a forest maybe // inspired by rachel amber, from life is strange

musical journeys!

a Comedy. | a musical journey. - someone falls from grace and gets thrown into the world. lands in a forest. confused, resolves to survive at any cost. killing, stealing, partying, fleeing, living. eventually, with time, discovers a gentler, happier way to live. they still throw the best parties. doing no harm, taking no shit.

calliope bae gimme a hand wouldn't ya: a musical journey - a tale of poets: young tragedies and cursed gods; laughs and fights; transcendental roadtrips and hellhounds; parties and their aftermath.

[faelapis]

white diamond’s morality

i think one of the reasons i like SU so much is, i feel its approach to morality is more structural than individual.

cartoons tend to be a bit... “great man history” about its conflict resolution. that is to say, entire systems hinge on their leaders, and the masses are easily led in a new direction if the old leader is dispatched. this is seen as unproblematic, and no one clings to everything they were taught under the old system. unless, of course, they’re one of the “bad seeds” (note again the individualism) and must also be dispatched, rather than understood as part of a context.

su definitely has a bit of that, namely the gems who were inspired by rose and chose to fight with her, but it’s more deconstructive about it. they all have personal reasons for joining, rather than the rejection of their old lives being the “default”. they still cling to fears of failing to be what they’re supposed to (especially pearl), and their leader doesn’t have a solution to the gem hierarchy. 

rose is against it, but she doesn’t know how to dismantle it. she carries seeds of disrespect towards those she protects. she may not even think they can truly break free, judging by her dialogue. she plays the perfect leader, because she’s become depressed enough to think that’s what they want her to be. it’s certainly what she was encouraged to think.

moreover, many on the cg side, including rose, thought that “shattering“ pink would be the end of it. that the dear leader was necessary to keep the system alive. but that thought is subverted - not just by the other diamonds, whose ties to pink are close, but by her followers. the ones whose role became their solace, rather than the thing they wanted to escape from. they don’t all become crystal gems, because that’s not what makes sense to them. what makes sense is to... keep going, as before. that’s what made sense to jasper, eyeball, nephrite.

and yes, they all suffer for it, but the worldbuilding of the show is strong enough that there’s inherent understanding that their responses make sense within their world, and that expecting them to celebrate and change sides overnight is... kind of unfair. it was certainly immature of rose, if she ever had that hope.

which brings me to white diamond.

i love the setup of the current arc. the question is never “can white be redeemed or will we just have to kill her”, because there are actual reasons they’re talking to her in the first place that aren’t merely ideological. like, ok, you defeat white, then what? the corrupted gems are still corrupted. her gems will hate you, maybe even seek revenge. i hope your individual moral purity was worth it, because that’s all you get for refusing to talk to her. by treating her as an individual evil, you’re inherently choosing to ignore structural problems at hand.

so the real questions are as following: 1. what would steven need to do to convince white to help him? 2. why does white perpetuate the system, and what does she think would happen without it?

i’m not the oracle who can tell you the former, but the latter is worth discussing. most of the reaction i’ve seen to the idea of white having genuine character motivation is very... well, as the saying goes, “cool motive, still murder”.

but people basically say that about every character before they know that motivation. they said it about jasper. they said it about blue and yellow (some still do, but others substitute that for blaming everything on white). it’s a very easy thing to say, when you assume all it could be is just “maybe they’re sad and lonely :(“... but that’s not what i imagine for white.

to be clear - i do think she’s lonely. isolating yourself in your head (figuratively and literally) for thousands of years will do that to you... and playing puppet with her pearl is kind of a brilliant commentary on what it’s like to be avoidant - you’re there, you can see and hear others, but you’re shielding yourself in such a way that they can’t really reach you. you’re not present enough to open yourself up, or ever tell anyone how you feel. “white never leaves her own head anymore”.

but this isn’t a motivation in and of itself. avoidance is tied to anxiety, so what is white so scared of happening if she lets go of her control?

honestly, i think what she fears is nothing less than the end of gemkind.

becoming a childless god.

the crystal gems are basically ok with that. they have to be, because gem production requires feeding off of planets, and fertile ones tend to be populated - hence the injectors look like irl viruses. they’re a parasitic species. they reproduce by killing their host.

moreover, gem production is highly specialized. you need kindergarteners, and then you need lapis lazulis to terraform in preparation of the injectors, then of course you need armies to conquer the next planet, and then Of Course you need agates to keep those gems in line, and then Naturally you need a court system with zircons to make sure everyone does their jobs, and Obviously guards to keep the peace, and managers, and pilots, and domestic servants, and if everyone doesn’t do these things then nothing will ever get done! there will be chaos and we’ll be defeated and we’ll all die next time we try to reproduce. what’s that, the youngest diamond thinks we should prioritize humankind over our own species? don’t be absurd!

that’s the rabbit hole of anxiety white has fallen down. and those anxieties aren’t merely hers, but everyone who follows the system - and gems seemingly burst out of the ground “already knowing what they’re supposed to be”, which is very much in line with that system. 

we tend to prescribe individuality to the diamonds, that they do things merely because they want to, but i think white is as much part of her court as her court depends on her. she doesn’t just think she’s the leader, she thinks she has to be in order to serve her society. she’s another gear in the clockwork, just like everyone else. why shouldn’t she stay in her room as a perfect queen, shining down on her court without desires of her own? why should she open up about what she wants? such irrational thoughts...

i think how pink creates life (the pebbles, lion, steven’s watermelons) terrifies white, because it’s use of resources without that structure. putting your own desires above your duty, allowing atomic chaos controlled only by each individual, knowing that those individuals could be destroyed and nothing new could be made without a diamond’s essence... feels selfish to her. like. ok, you want individuality and choice, cool, i’m kinda trying to keep everything in its place so we can live on as a species. but go off i guess.

and this is the part where i say what’s obvious but still needs to be said - white’s perspective is flawed. pink may be reckless, selfish, and naive, but white’s system is so deeply collectivist that she fails to see the clockwork as made up of individuals. why shouldn’t she harvest and replace a faulty part, if someone in the beehive isn’t doing their job perfectly? we’re all just machine parts, and we’re all replaceable. naturally. for the greater good. 

it’s fitting that what made her smile in the first place was a synchronized dance of literal machine parts. the end of that order terrifies her.

this is why her design (and homeworld’s) is so heavily inspired by the movie “metropolis” - which was in and of itself a critique of the dehumanization of workers under industrialism. white is the end point of that. that’s also where we got the quote for the configuration of the diamond ship - “the mediator between the head (white) and the hands (blue & yellow) must be the heart (steven)”. 

but it’s not just her. peridot and jasper both think this is perfectly rational, and write the crystal gems off as emotional and selfish (at first). and.. everything taken into account, it’s clear that neither the crystal gems as a collective or rose as an individual have been able to fully cast these ideas aside. rose’s answer wasn’t for gems - it was to put her faith in humanity, who “can choose”. who can reinvent themselves. and she thought right up until her last years that gems are somewhat tied to their purpose. that’s why she wanted to be human, after all.

and that’s why steven makes such a great bridge between these worlds. he’s blunt about how wrong it is, what rose and the crystal gems thought - that gems couldn’t change. of course they can, look at how far garnet, amethyst, and pearl have come! look at how they’ve blossomed, look at how they’ve worked to become their best selves! look at what gems and humans have in common! 

and what’s sometimes a flaw of his - inserting himself into other people’s lives and believing he understands what’s best for them, even before he knows them as individuals, to the point that it occasionally drives people (like lapis and lars) away... who does he have that in common with, if not the diamonds? if not the “impeccable judgement” of white herself?

i think that’s why, ultimately... flawed, biased and shortsighted as he can be (just like his mother), steven can get through to white. maybe not now, but someday. because he understands how these things fit together, how the problems of individuals have structural causes. most importantly, he knows that it’s going to take more than just him to fix things - and maybe he can help white realize that, too. there’s a secret fusion or love affair everywhere you look on homeworld, and so she could never really control a clockwork order... but that’s ok, because she can let go. everything in the world isn’t up to her.

[sharethisgemwithme]

“Change Your Mind” instant reaction

As always, my first watch is without pausing or rewinding. The stopwatch for part one starts as close to "We..." as possible (assuming we get a standard intro). As this is a single episode, I'll pause the clock during commercial breaks and try to gather my thoughts, then post the whole thing in one block.

As the episode just aired, and this is quite lengthy, parts 2-4 are behind a cut. I’m gonna go through and re-proofread after posting.

0:00 - LET THE BATTLE OF HEART AND MIND BEGIN. I don't expect a standard episode title card, more likely something like they did for "Bismuth". 0:03 - WE'LL ALWAYS SAVE THE DAY! 0:21 - OK, title card. And the litany of boarders. 0:34 - Wake up, Pink Lasagna. 0:44 - "Oh right, prison." Exactly what I would have sarcastically typed. 0:58 - Umm, where is she? 1:11 - You didn't send her to the zoo, did you? 1:24 - What the hell? 1:38 - That's a weird looking pebble. Even for the pebbles. 1:48 - Oh. Shit. flashback? 2:04 - She's gonna take away your pearl. That's gonna become White Pearl? 2:28 - Everything goes in circles. 2:39 - Another terrible nightmare. Enjoy eternity spent in prison. 2:55 - Yep. Everything goes in circles, alright. 3:06 - Connie, you are probably not gonna help the situation right now. 3:25 - Ok. "I'm sorry." 3:29 - Or not. 3:38 - Bunches of tears. 3:49 - This is not gonna make her any happier. 4:09 - It has warped him into thinking that fusion is okay. Which is not a bad thing. 4:32 - Oof. 4:46 - You did. A lot. Enough to make her run away and pretend she was gone forever. 5:04 - "This is why you left, isn't it?" Pretty much. 5:10 - I think we're about to get a song... 5:35 - I don't know we're ready to get you home. 5:45 - MEAL TIME. 6:08 - Good luck with that. 6:25 - Busted. 6:42 - "She prefers to be called Steven." Wow. Close enough. 7:06 - Diamond on diamond violence. 7:24 - This is a good distraction. 7:38 - That's a lot of shards in bubbles in the background there. 7:50 - I saw four gems there. 8:00 - They're not ready to reform yet! 8:08 - You've already done that. Yep, just like Blue just said. 8:20 - But Yellow can't admit that she's hurtng. 8:34 - Yellow trying to fuckin' kill Blue here. 8:59 - It's been only 100 something episodes since that hot dog line came up. I'm glad Yellow was like "WTF does that even mean?" 9:21 - You'd think these bridges would be a bit sturdier. 9:29 - "I'm not." 9:45 - RUN FOR IT. 9:58 - Makes sense. The harder the hit, the longer the recovery. 10:17 - Yeah, this isn't gonna work. 10:29 - Time for white to say her line from the promo. "You're not going anywhere." 10:35 - I mean that was kinda obvious, but... called it. 10:58 - White Pearl, you are freaky as all hell.

OK, so Steven and Connie have retrieved the physical gems, and have Blue and Yellow on their side, but 3 on 1 might not be enough for a fair fight.

11:00 - Start of Act 2. 11:15 - Go to your rooms. All three of you. 11:29 - Was that pun really necessary, Connie? 11:44 - And here comes Bismuth! 11:55 - They look like they're lying, even though we know they aren't. 12:14 - Boom, what a knockout. 12:22 - Bismuth's piloting one of them. 12:32 - I guess Peri's piloting the other one, if she's woken up. 12:45 - Damn, those are some fancy outfits 12:52 - Lapis... almost has a star. 13:00 - Good thing you fixed it. 13:20 - One of these days Steven will learn how to GET THE FUCK OUT WHILE YOU CAN. 13:45 - At least put the gems somewhere safe! 14:07 - And White won't admit it. 14:14 - Connie's motif. Always pretty. 14:25 - Remember when Dr. Maheswaren was used as a proxy for Yellow? 14:55 - She called him Steven! 15:08 - FORM VOLTRON! 15:20 - It's about time we found out why the diamond ships form a full body. 15:55 - Id on't know what they'd actually want to say, though. 16:02 - I took over a lot of worlds, and I don't get enough credit for that. 16:25 - So many geology puns there. 16:30 - I'm not sure that's the kind of conversation Steven was really looking for, though. 16:51 - Peridot's visor is too wonky IMO. 17:00 - Let us all into our head. That might be a bit too literal. 17:!2 - WHAT THE FUCK. 17:19 - WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK. 17:28 - NOT OKAY. 17:36 - AGAIN, HOW ABOUT WE GET THE FUCK OUT AND REGROUP? 17:50 - Goddammit, Steven. I told you to put those somewhere safer than IN YOUR HANDS. Don't you have pockets?! 18:28 - What? That's a bit weird. 18:36 - Is that how he's gonna get the other ones back also?! 18:54 - "Owl be fine.” NICE. 19:04 - WE'RE REALLY DOING THIS!!! 19:15 - Whose voice is that? 19:28 - Luckily this chasm is fuckin' infinite. 19:59 - OH HELL YES WE DOING THIS ALRIGHT! 20:07 - Or maybe not just yet.

Holy shit all the new fusions and forms, fuck yeah everything. But we didn't even get a name or appearance for Steven + Garnet before they got stomped on by a diamond ship.

20:15 - Start of Act 3. 20:19 - So much for a chance to collect my thoughts first. 20:29 - "You better step off." "Chillax my dudes." 20:41 - Sunstone. Wow. 20:48 - I feel like I should be able to place this voice, but I can't. 21:12 - Fourth wall breaking. Just like on the bingo card. 21:25 - Bungacowa. That's Amethyst's line! 21:38 - What the hell is even happening now? 21:58 - That didn't work. 22:02 - Another wonky visor. 22:10 - Obsidian? 22:14 - OBSIDIAN! 22:20 - You might wanna hurry this dance up. 22:38 - Gonna look like the temple fusion? 22:58 - YEP. Even though I question the chronology of that. 23:11 - Huge is a relative term. 23:25 - Yeah, it's about time the B team started doing something down here. 23:49 - Peridot, shut up before you get smacked in the face again. 24:02 - Try to be a little more stable when you got a human holding on for dear life. 24:22 - Oof, they took a hit. 24:39 - Bismuth's suit is metal. That should be good enough. 24:48 - Fuckin' ow. 24:52 - Connie. Where's Connie? 24:58 - Whew. 25:05 - "I've got this." The hell you do, Connie. 25:19 - If you're Voltron, then why am I the one forming blazing sword? 25:40 - Gem script decoders, get to work. 25:59 - They fell apart. But now they've got a way in. 26:15 - Save Connie! 26:24 - Never mind, she's okay. 26:40 - Oh this is creepy as all fuck. All three of them with one voice. 27:07 - So why didn't White zap Steven or any of the true rebels? 27:39 - Amethyst is me. As usual. 27:51 - Why did I have to ask that? 28:02 - Yeah, and it's plenty, Amethyst. 28:11 - GET OUT OF THE WAY, DAMMIT. 28:24 - This is not going well. 28:32 - And now they're all devoid of color. 28:55 - That was a middle finger, just sayin'. 29:09 - Oh good we got the 360 degree head spin just for kicks. 29:35 - She's not often told that she's wrong. 29:47 - "Because you are also flawed."? 30:07 - That's a creepy laugh. On top of all the other creepy shit. 30:20 - Connie, be careful. 30:33 - The student faces the teacher. 30:58 - Please make it stop. 31:15 - You've gotta say something more than just "You're wrong." 31:28 - That picture did seem a bit weird. 31:53 - We know that he's part gem. That doesn't mean he's the same person. 32:15 - And one more commercial break? 32:30 - Oh don't you dare. 32:49 - FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. WE ALWAYS WORRIED THAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN.

"Three Gems", "Bubbled", and I'm sure one or two other episodes teased the idea of what would happen if Steven's gem was removed. Well we're about to find out, I guess. Shit.

33:00 - Start of Act 4. 33:05 - Oh wow, a two-part vision? 33:19 - This is freaky. 33:32 - Shit, I wasn't looking at all the forms. 33:45 - Yikes. 33:49 - No one's quite sure what to say. 33:59 - Are they gonna talk together? I guess not. 34:15 - That's some hardcore yelling from Pink Steven. 34:35 - Merge with him. Please. 34:42 - Fuck, Connie got strong. 34:52 - It's not a real thing. You can't zap him. 35:10 - Or something like that. 35:21 - Luckily he's got a 360 shield. 35:40 - What does this mean? 35:50 - Flesh Steven is in so much pain. 36:02 - 'Cause it's funny how much you suck. 36:19 - He's back! 36:40 - White is losing her shit. She's the one having the tantrum. 36:54 - Oh, her imperfections are showing. And now there's color in the world again! 37:13 - I don't think you're in control anymore. 37:25 - And where's the original Pink Pearl? 37:33 - Show us the original pink pearl. 37:39 - Read the room, guys. 37:55 - There she is! 38:02 - Still wondering what the deal is with her eye. 38:14 - OH FUCK, THAT'S WHY SHE SHINE SO BRIGHT, SO THAT NO ONE CAN SEE HER SHADING. 38:30 - We're all who we are. 38:38 - Why don't you let yourself just be whoever you are! 38:45 - You been doing a shit job of making everything better so far, White. 38:59 - And we're glad they left Greg behind. 39:12 - Sadie's singing Greg's greatest hit! 39:25 - IT'S BEACHAPALOOZA. 39:38 - Greg's gonna break into tears. And then some. 39:47 -- Ronaldo's face! 39:55 - PERFECT TIMING, LARS! 40:12 -Or maybe not, Rhodonite, but it's okay. 40:29 - Yeah, they know who the Diamonds are. 40:44 - You're kin with each other now. 40:55 - Oh god, Padparascha. 41:02 - "Lars isn't going to know what to say." Oh god, I laughed. 41:18 - How long has it been since we had a nice star wipe ending? 41:39 - I think that counts as a hot pink limousine. 41:56 - Ronaldo already pissing off Lars. 42:20 - We're healing everybody!!!! 42:42 - New verse for the "WATCG"! 43:02 - JASPER! 43:15 - Someone's gonna have to explain something to Jasper. 43:36 - So... where the hell do we go from here? 43:52 - Like, seriously. What in the hell can the next episode possibly be? 44:45 - Eh. I'm not sure how I feel about that last song. 45:00 - Movie promo! 45:10 - COMING THIS FALL.

And... we got the credits from "We Need to Talk" for some reason. Okay then. No credit notes tonight, I suppose.

[bad0mens]

Title: Soup of the Day - Pt. 2

Pairings: Fluri

Warnings: Cafe AU. Superhero AU. Silliness.

Description: Flynn is having trouble accepting Yuri’s secondary occupation as a superhero in the city of Zaphias and that dangers that it brings. He decides to take matters into his own hands to try and keep him safe just as a new adversary appears on the scene.

Authors’ Notes: I FUCKIING completely forgot to mention that this was a direct follow up to Blue Plate Special!! So reading that one first is important.

Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.

When Sodia said more reports in regards to the graffiti of 'HAVOC', she hadn't been lying. All over town, the word have been plastered on many buildings, along with a slew of crude drawings. May buildings had their alarms go off in the night, bit none had been broken into and nothing was missing. The only thing they had to one was 'HAVOC' and something about it left a bad taste in Flynn's mouth.

Another thing that had him trouble was the sheer amount of trouble he encountered on his beat. He and Sodia were sent to investigate and document nearly half of the almost one hundred reports of vandalism that appeared over night. Between that and regular incidents like a few drunk and disorderly, a smattering of car accidents, and the like, the work was running him ragged. He hardly realized that until later though.

The next day, even more strange happenings occurred. the graffiti was gone, clean walls and windows left instead. The day after that, it was back in full force, the word 'HAVOC' in red paint this time, scrawled over buildings and overpasses and on every police cruiser. More alarms had been set off over night. People all over town complained of strange noises and bizarre sights of strange lights and figures in the streets. It was a full on crime wave.

But nothing terribly serious was happening. Graffiti and setting off alarms without actually breaking and entering were misdemeanors at best. But the patterns seemed to be worsening. It wasn't going to be long before a felony was committed and Flynn wasn't about to let it come to that.

He looked over his desk. it was normally so tidy, everything in its place, but no longer. The dark, laminated surface was marred with streaks of red spray paint and the contents of his in box upended all over the place. Even with all the chaos and the tell tale marks of 'Havoc' all over the desk, there were two items that stood out, as if carefully placed. The big red arrows of paint pointing to them were pretty obvious, too. Someone was trying to leave him a message.

He sat and opened the filed. They were full, papers neatly stacked of phone records, bank transactions, complete biographies, finger prints, and the histories of two of the city's wealthiest citizens: Regaey, the CEO of R Gate Corp, and Barbos, President of Alliance Industries.

Flynn shuffled through the files, pictures and records and newspaper clippings. One of the clippings on Regaey in particular on caught his eye and he found himself fumbling for his reading glasses.

'R Gate Corp CEO opens private collection to public.'

The article was dated almost a year before and detailed the exhibit of Regaey's normally private art and artifact collection. It went on to detail some of the priceless painting and sculptures, but the most interesting item mentioned was a large gem that was featured.

"Amid the famous pieces, there's one particularly curious clear diamond with and strange and sordid history. Known as 'The Star of Aselia'...."

He fumbled for the second file, rifling through the articles and photos. He had a hunch and when he found the articles, he had a feeling he was right. It was a less impressive story, an interior article unlike R Gate Corps front page.

'World famous Calegia Diamond purchased in auction by President of Alliance Industries.'

There were still pieces of the puzzle missing, but he kept milling through the files. There had to be something he was overlooking. He wasn't sure how many time he examined the contents of the folders before frustration took over and he snapped them closed. There was no good reason why they had been left on his desk in the first place. He tossed them unceremoniously into his inbox and started to collect the rest of the contents that had been there only a day before.

He shuffled a stack of form, tapping their edges even, when a slip slid out of the bottom. A photograph to be specific, and Flynn knew very well the person in the photograph. Yeager of Leviathan's Claw was the most notorious black market arms dealer in Zaphias. Flynn had been involved in the incident of his arrest a few months prior, and now, taking a second look at the man, he was curious. He flipped open one of the files again and was stunned.

Flynn should have realized it before. Someone should have realized it before, but it gave him an idea.

The R Gate Corp building was all glass and steel, a monument to capitalism, shining even in the darkness of the night. The neon sign at the top washed the sky in a warm red glow and save for a few solitary office and the dimness of backup lights, the building was dark and empty. It hadn't been spared the graffiti onslaught, the word 'Havoc' scrawled on every floor alongside the pictographs. Compared to others, this one seemed particularly singled out for the mess.

Flynn kept crouched behind a row of garbage dumpsters, the glass and gilded entrance within his sight. He had already been here an hour and a half, watching the employees file out and waiting and watching for any clue of his hunch.

He had worked stakeouts before, long and silent ones, but something about being here in his White Knight armor made this particularly thrilling. This was different and he could see what Yuri liked about this. But after an hour and a half of this, his legs were starting to hurt, a dull ache creeping up into his core. He didn't dare shift and give away his position, just in case someone would be lurking nearby.

It was another half hour before the ache was unbearable and he shifted just an inch. Settling back in, he heard the rattle of a can across pavement behind him.

Frozen fast a second, waiting for any further indication of movement, he held his breath. The can rattled again, as if kicked this time and rolled past him, footsteps following. Flynn finally turned his head just enough to peek out between the dumpsters.

Slinking down the street were a pair of Red Eyes, walking as casually as you please. The first kicked the can again.

"Man, cut it out. The Boss'll be pissed if you make too much noise."

"Are you telling me to 'can' it?"

The second hit the first with an elbow to his stomach.

"Where the hell are the others?"

"I dunno, but this gig is easy. This boss doesn't ask too much of us. Man, I hope Zagi doesn't get out any time soon. I sorta like working for Havoc."

"I know what you mean, dude. Not getting beaten up all the time, etc. Shouldn't they have been here by now?"

"I'm sure they're hanging around."

"I swear to god--"

A sudden, sharp sound cut the otherwise silent streets, and both Red Eyes stopped, raising their eyes. A split second later, they were rushing off down the street, swift and silent.

The R Gate building seemed to be their target. They deftly opened the door and scurried inside. Flynn wanted to go after them, but as two more descended from seemingly no where, he was left outnumbered and reminded himself that he had only come with the intention of watching. He needed to think all this through and observe before acting rashly. Besides, he still had no idea who was behind the scenes. The Red Eyes weren't working of their own accord and Zagi was definitely still in prison.

But he crept closer, quietly, to get a better look. The new pair went to work on the exterior of the building, scaling the walls and adding layers of paint. While they were at work, the other two returned, arms heavy laden with boxes. They stopped, staring up at the roof of the building that Flynn was crouched in the shadow of.

"This it, Boss?"

There was only silence. Flynn moved forward, squirming between the brick walls and the dumpster. If their leader was here, he wanted to chance a look at them. Even the slightest hint at their identity could be enough to tip the scales in his favor, and that would make all the difference. He couldn't rush into this.

He finally managed to get a view of the edge of the building between two dumpsters. The moon was just starting to come over the roof of the building, casting the figure that stood there in silhouette. The moon left an edge, glittering white around the figure otherwise clad in layers of darkness. The form was tall and lean, soft curves and sharp edges, but not feminine. One pale hand swept out, lines and the jagged edge of a sleeve illuminated by moonlight. At its slightest movements, the Red Eyes were on the move once more, but Flynn did not see them go. His sight was fixed on the dark mastermind, eyes groping through the darkness for the barest edge or defining shape that would give him the slightest clue about this person's identity.

The figure turned slightly, baring the edge of a cheek, the glimmer of dark eyes through the slits of a white mask, eyes that were just as fixed on him as he was on them. The line of a pair of lips, drawn into a tight, thin smirk, and those eyes told him that he had been spotted.

Flynn fumbled for his sword. Either this person, or the Red Eyes, would be on him any moment, but as he drew the blade and looked back, the figure was gone and Flynn was left alone and highly unnerved.

When nothing further happened, he firmly decided that his reconnaissance was done for the night.

"What the absolute fuck is going on there?" Yuri's voice buzzed through the speaker of Flynn's cellphone. His tone was much calmer than his words intended, but the tone was what caught him. Flynn was still shaken from the events the night before, and the pair of eyes in the dark that were fixed on him.

"It looks like the Red Eyes are still up to no good, but it's all been minor offenses at this point. The police will handle it." It wasn't a complete lie, but he couldn't tell Yuri what he had been doing.

Yuri groaned, a sound that Flynn barely heard over the facet pouring water into his sink. The sound, although displeased, surged in Flynn's nerves and he was coldly reminded of the distance between them.

"Man, those freaks even got the Comet. Judy said they pray painted 'Havoc' on a bunch of stuff and raided the pantry. One more mess to clean up when I get back."

"Wait." Flynn hadn't gotten a report regarding the Comet and that was the one he should have. It was part of his regular beat. "Even the Comet?"

"Yeah. Zagi and I had a sort of standing truce that we wouldn't attack each others places, but it looks like who ever the Red Eyes are working for now doesn't care so much for decorum like that."

"So how's your trip going?" He had to change the subject before he burst out with what he knew, that he had seen' Havoc' or at least who he suspected was the person, and had seen the Red Eyes in the act and was still keeping at what he sure Yuri was still upset about.

"You wouldn't  believe what they're asking for the machine I want. It's ridiculous."

"How much?"

"Way more than I brought with me."

"Do you need--” "No. I'm taking a look at a going out of business sale tomorrow. If that doesn't work out, I've got a little more in savings that I can pull if I have to."

Flynn sighed a little, hoping the speaker didn't catch it. Yuri refused his help all the time, so it should come as no surprise to him, but that didn't mean that it wasn't frustrating. "Okay. Please call me if you need anything."

"Don't worry so much."

"I miss you."

"Yeah yeah. I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Stay safe okay?"

"Flynn." The seriousness in Yuri's voice shocked him into nearly dropping the plate he had been washing.

"What is it?"

"Just-- it's nothing."

"What--"

"Bye."

The sharp noise that cut off the call was Yuri closing his cell phone abruptly, the way he did after arguments or while in a rush.

Flynn was left to finish the dishes without the pleasant distraction of his boyfriend's voice. Yuri had only been out of town for a few days, but it felt like a lot longer. His days off weren't the same, and his apartment felt strangely barren. It had been for a while now, whether or not Yuri was in town. The only thing that changed that feeling of hollowness was Yuri himself. Flynn had been thinking on what more could be done about that, but there was one option and he wasn't sure that they were ready for that just yet.

Yuri and Flynn had only been dating for a few months and the prospect of moving in together was sudden and jarring when the idea hit him. On top of that, Yuri had a twin sister and a younger brother that he took care of and he might not be interested in moving out. It wasn't something he wanted to worry about now. There was too much else going on.

He took a break from the chores. It was getting late and he wanted to get a nap in before going on for dinner and then on his knightly patrols.

Flynn caught himself laughing about that mental slip harder than he should have been. Listening to the Red Eyes crack puns had apparently rubbed off on him and he was left chuckling further.

He and Yuri were both 'Knights' after all, both filled with the duty to protect their city. He left further thoughts on the subject alone, lest the images in his head start to look like something out of one of his mother's romance novels that Flynn had uncomfortable memories of.

Flynn took a brief doze on the couch and woke as the sun was setting and he was left missing Yuri even more. Even still, he got up and went to the Comet for dinner. Not only was he hungry, but more importantly, he waited to check and see how Judith and Karol were doing. The cafe was quiet, but there was plenty of evidence of the misdeeds that Yuri had told him about. The windows has all be painted over with the scrawling word 'Havoc' and the pictographs from before. These were nothing new or particularly revealing however. It didn't set well with him that someone had defiled this place that he loved, that Yuri loved. It was down right sickening, and even more sickening that Flynn hadn't been able to put a stop to it yet. Maybe tonight would yield more clues.

"Good evening, Officer," Judith said with a smile. He wondered if she had any evidence on the 'Havoc' situation. He had seen her out on her own patrol a few times, but unlike Yuri, she never confronted him or openly insisted that he stop the work he was doing as 'White Knight'. Her indifference was somewhat welcome, but also worrying.

"Hello. How have things been here?" It felt a little silly asking that, as he had been here only days before. A lot of things had changed in a few days time, though.

"Quite busy. All this clean up work to do and I'm still missing a pair of hands."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, thank you. Yuri has told me about your cooking attempts and I intend to keep all of my customers alive." She smiled sharply, and Flynn could see the family resemblance.

He tried to laugh that off, but something about Judith's demeanor was unsettling, so he moved to a different subject. "Yuri told me that you've been having some trouble."

"Oh my, yes. All that pesky spray paint making our cafe look grungy and then all our food going missing. Troublesome indeed, but nothing I can't handle. You want the usual?"

"Missing?"

"I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about. I'll be back in just a moment. It looks like its time to pull the bread out of the freezer." She turned and left him at the counter.

The paint on the windows and the mess here only drove his desire to stop this crime spree harder. Evidence was piling up, but it was going slowly and Flynn's reconnaissance as White Knight was adding to that. The connections between R Gate Corp and Alliance Industries and the two strange gems and the old sword were still leads to follow, leads that he was following, and had made some realizations on. He was waiting on a call back from Rita to confirm or deny his suspicions. Finger print processing was a time consuming and delicate procedure and DNA even more so, but if they would give him the edge he needed, then forensic science was his ally.

"Oh my." Judith's calm voice exclaimed, abbreviated by the sound of glass breaking from the kitchen. "Now look what you made me do."

"Don't test me, Lady."

Flynn knew that voice, a long, low sound that pitched in odd places and he found himself rushing around the counter toward the kitchen and the voices. He cleared the kitchen's swinging door to find Judith, her hands on her hips, back to him, and in front of her, the familiar face of one of the masked Red Eyes. The blade on his arm was jutting out, sharp menacing steel.

"Judith!"

The Red Eye spotted him, grabbing Judith and holding the blade to her throat before Flynn could draw his gun. Flynn froze, stone stiff, pointing the pistol at the Red Eye who pressed ever closer to Judith, holding one of her arms behind her back and making himself a shield of her.

"Let her go."

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?"

Flynn couldn't while she was in the line of fire and the Red Eye knew that.

"Whatever man. She's not the one I want anyway." He held her firmly still.

"What do you want?" Flynn asked.

"You're White Knight. The boss wants to meet you."

"What? Why?" He didn't loosen the grip on the gun inspire of his surprise.

"For tea or whatever. Hell if I know. All I  was told was to give you this." The Red Eye pulled a black enveloped out of his coat, holding it in the air.

"What is it?"

"I don't go reading other people's mail." That snark was getting really old really fast.

With a flick of his wrist, the Red Eye sent the envelope cutting through the air, and Flynn caught it while still keeping the gun trained on him.

"See you, suckers."

A flash of light and smoke and the Red Eye was gone, leaving only Judith and Flynn standing in the kitchen, coughing as the air cleared. He still moved forward and quickly determined that the intruder was gone.

"Are you all right?" He holstered his firearm and checked on Judith.

"Yes. His grip was rather weak. He could use some strength training." She brushed herself off and smiled like she hadn't just been assaulted in her own business. "But what's that you've got there?"

"I'm not sure." Flynn turned the envelope over in his hands, its black paper surface free of decoration or writing. He wiggled a finger under the flap and popped it open. Inside, there was a black paper card, the front decorated with a silver,scrolling border around a note. He read it aloud.

'White Knight,

If you care for the safety of True Knight and this city, you will meet me at midnight at the abandoned construction site on the corner of Palmacoasta and Flanoir. Come alone.'

-Havoc.'

"Oh my. A personal invitation from this strange 'Havoc'." She turned to him, tapping the apple of her cheek with one finger. "Do you plan on going? It could be a trap."

That thought had crossed Flynn's mind, but it was only in consideration. If that warning was to be believed, Flynn didn't have much of a choice. "It looks like it's my only option." Especially not with the prospects of Yuri and the city being in danger if he didn't.

"I see. Well, the least I can do it get you diner." She bustled back out of the kitchen and he followed her into the cafe's dining area.

Speedily, she put together the special for him and sent him on his way with a wish for good luck.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't nervous. Food hadn't helped. Bread and cheese, meat and soup all twisted up in his insides.

Flynn suited up, strapping his word to his let and his gun just below it, hidden up a plate of his armor. It was a 'just in case' precaution, right along with the handcuffs and police radio. He was going to put a stop to 'Havoc' tonight. Once he had him captured, he could call the police and that would be one less menace on the streets for them to deal with.

He took to the streets, giving himself plenty of time to traverse the back alleys to get to the location on the black card. The construction site indicated had been abandoned a year earlier, after a series of accidents that cause the project to go over budget and the building was left half finished. It loomed in the distance, a stack of black frame work against the dark blue sky.

The ring of his cell phone cut the silence of his trek which had only been filled with the wash of ambient sounds of the city that Flynn had long ago grown used to. He answered without looking at it.

"Hello?"

"I've got those test results back." Rita's voice came tiredly through the speaker.

"What are the results?"

"Finger prints and DNA both came back for both of our suspects -- Where the hell are you? There's a lot of background noise."

"I'm walking home."

"Oh. Well, your hunch was right. The finger prints and DNA for that arms dealer Yeager and the Stormblast respectively match Regeay of R Gate Corp and Barbos of Alliance Industries. And some interesting records turned up this morning." The sound that came through next was the shuffle of papers before she spoke again. "Looks like Regeay and Barbos both took out insurance policies on their gems shortly before they were stolen. In fact, they've already collected millions in insurance money."

"Aren't Yeager and Stormblast still in prison?"

"They are, but the money went into off-shore accounts linked to the companies as mock trust funds it looks like."

"Anything new from Havoc??"

"All quiet on that front. If this is supposed to be some devastating crime wave of his, he's doing it wrong. The worst offense has been destruction of property."

The robberies were still unconnected to Havoc, but Flynn had a feeling that's where the trail led. He would know soon enough.

"Thanks for your hard work."

"Whatever." Rita hung up.

Flynn found himself before the fenced off construction site as he pocketed his phone. This was the moment he had been waiting for and so anxious over. He had to remind himself that this was no different from clearing a building during a raid, except that he had no way of knowing what might be waiting for him, or what could happen. But he had resolved to do this and here he was.

The gate was cracked open, unsurprising as he was expected. He cast his trained gaze over the half finished building, looking for the slightest sign of the Red Eyes or any other attacker. They were well hidden, but he pressed forward, hand on the grip of his sword and ready for the moment that he would need to draw it.

Across the dirt covered construction site ground and into the empty door way he strode, listening for the slightest sound beyond his boots against the concrete floor. The silence was endless, filling every corner of the hall and the empty rooms connected. He checked each one the way he was taught at the academy, but there was no one else. Even still, he had to be wary and ready for the trap to be sprung. He was at a disadvantage like this.

At the end of the hall was a lift and an arrow pointing up. No doubt the sign was for him, and no doubt, it was going to take him where he needed to go and probably right into the trap. He went anyway. He had no choice.

As soon as he crossed the barrier of the lift, it shuddered to a rocky start and began its ascent through the floors of steel beams and concrete floors and drywall. His sword was always just beneath his fingers as his eyes darted from one side of the open air lift to the other, watching and waiting for anyone who might try and use the element of surprise against him. But the lift stopped on the top floor without incident, opening to the floor with only a concrete floor. The roof allowed him to see the far stretches of the city, dark buildings and twinkling lights. The moon above made the concrete floor white, a soft lit plane with a single black center, the shadow of a figure and a chair.

"I see you've accepted my invitation." The voice from the figure was a velvet soft, smoky purr, enticing, but with carefully concealed claws.

"I wasn't given much of a choice," Flynn replied. "Havoc, I presume."

"Why yes. How astute of you."

With a kick of his leg, the figure spun in the chair and Flynn was able to get a very good look at the person he had only seen once before while rimmed in a moonlight glow.

Havoc was a tall, lean man, slumped in the chair with an ease and confidence, his legs crossed and pale hands steepled before him. A mask of sharp, slick white covered his face from above the line of his hair to the edge of his nose, with only thin slits to reveal his dark eyes. Equally dark hair cascaded down his shoulders, long black waves that blended with the shadows of his costume. Layers of darkness, edged sharp in feathers and shimmering like stars in moonlight clad him, and as he stood, a long mantle trailed behind him, glittering starlight black and feathered further.

"And you are White Knight. Or more accurately, Office Flynn Scifo of the Third Precinct."

"How do you know that?" He was just as astounded by this man's appearance as he was by his presence and knowledge. The air between them was heavy like the weight of salt water, like gravity increased and each step Havoc made forward made the pressure worsen.

"You are, perhaps, not as covert as you would like to believe."

"What did you mean by that note? Have you done something to Y- True Knight?" Flynn drew his sword, holding it at a ready stance.

"Not yet."

"What--"

in a flash, Havoc was before him, one pale hand curled around the blade of Flynn's sword and Flynn was frozen in astonishment.

"Interesting. What sort of 'knight' carries a blunted blade?" He smirked, but turned away with a flick of his cape before Flynn could reply. "But I'm sure that the real question is why I asked you to come here."

"For what purpose?"

"I've seen you around. I've seen your work. You're strong. You're devoted. And I have a proposition for you." Havoc tilted his head to look at Flynn over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure that I want to hear a proposition from a villain."

"A villain? Hmm. I suppose if you should choose to see me that way, I cannot argue. But the world will always vilify those who are different. The dreamers, the revolutionaries. You only want what's best for this city, is that not so?"

"Of course it it. It's my dream and True Knight's also."

"It is mine as well, but this city stagnant. I think it needs a push in the right direction..."

"What do you--"

"People like you and True Knight are only holding Zaphias back, only paving the way for continued mayhem and stagnation. However, I have the power to change all that." Havoc turned sharply, the sound of his mantle whipping behind him like the flight of a million crows. His dark eyes were burning brightly. "Join me, White Knight, and I will give you that power as well."

Flynn didn't have to wait before the words he needed were ready. There was no need to think about it. "No."

"Oh, you didn't even consider it. Hear me out. Listen to what I'm offering you." He approached once more, a confident and enthralling stride. "A position of power, untold riches, strength beyond your wildest dreams. All that you ask for and more."

Flynn froze as those pale hands came up to caress his cheeks. Havoc leaned close, the gap between them quickly disappearing and leaving only warmth as he pressed against Flynn.

"Pledge your devotion to me and I am yours." The mouth kissed him without further warning, a motion so smooth and so burning hot that he had to break away or drown in its flames as he was consumed by his own. He forced Havoc back a step.

"I'll never going to help you! My heart is only for True Knight!"

"How disgustingly romantic." Havoc sneered. "You should have accepted my gracious offer when you had the chance. Maybe my Eternal Sword will change your mind."

The scrape of a sword's blade against a metal scabbard forced a chill up his spin, but the blade itself even more so.

It was a long sword, its blade glowing white like moonlight, edged in the darkness of the night. The swirl of air around it was like the howling of a thousand hell hounds. At its center, a pair of large gems were embedded in the hilt, pulsing blue and green. He knew those stones, and the sword suddenly as well. The Stars of Aselia and Calegia Diamond and the long sword from the museum.

"Isn't it beautiful! To think the Red Eyes had no idea what they had gotten their hands on. Only I know the true value on this blade, and only I can harness its true power."

By the time Flynn got his sword up to defend himself, Havoc was already only inches from him with the blade, chopping away. Tripping backwards, he managed to dodge, although all the blows came uncomfortably close to hitting him. He staggered to catch his step, but Havoc shoved him backward, the howling sword whizzing by his ear.

When pressed back against the lift doors, he rolled aside to evade just in the nick of time, a thrust that ripped through the metal as if it were only air. He hoped to have a moment to formulate a plan while Havoc freed the blade, but there wasn't a pause at all in his attack. He spun to face Flynn and advanced once more, leaving Flynn at an even bigger disadvantage. He was not skilled enough with a sword to be facing an adversary of such grace and power.

Havoc was vicious in his pursuit, his offense so perfect that Flynn could only flee and defend and even that was a struggle. He didn't know that it was about to get worse.

The moment that Havoc didn't pursue, Flynn was simultaneously glad and worried. He took a moment to try and reassess the situation, to take a breath, but as soon as Havoc raised the blade, and its glow grew, he knew that he was in for trouble.

"With this, no one will stand in my way. Not you, not the police, not True Knight! No one will stop me!"

The glow of the blade pulsed, the weight of it crushing Flynn and stealing his strength. He fought to keep on his feet, for even just the ability to hold his own sword, but it slipped from his hand and he was forced to take a knee.

Havoc lowered the sword and approached. "Ready to reconsider my offer?"

"N-Never...."

"Why struggle any longer?"

"Because I can't let True Knight down."

"Hm. Perhaps I have an offer that would suit someone of your tenacity better." He didn't give Flynn a chance to deny him this time. "Stop gallivanting around as White Knight, and I will never bother this city again. All the damage I've done will be undone and things will go on as if I was never here."

Flynn weighed the decision with due heaviness. To be fair, he wasn't much of a super hero, and if all it took to stop Havoc was to stop being a super hero, he owed that to the city. He knew what the right answered was, and licked his dry lips right before the word came out.

"I have your word?"

"My very solemn vow." Those dark eyes were fixed on him. He didn't want to believe a villain, but if there was no further choice, what else could he do?

"I... I agree. I will cease being White Knight for the sake of Zaphias."

"Do I have your word?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise?"

"I said yes."

"All right then. I don't need this anymore."

To Flynn's surprise, Havoc pulled the gems free of the sword's hilt, and shattered them against the concrete floor. As soon as they were removed, the glow fizzled out and disappeared, and the blade returned to normal, a dull and unadorned museum piece. Havoc then threw the sword at Flynn's feet.

"Well, that's over with." He was still smirking, and for the life of him, Flynn couldn't figure out why, but something about it was infuriating. "Aw man, your face was priceless."

Flynn scrambled to his feet, anger rising against his neck. "What are you talking about?"

"You still don't get it?!" Another round of laughter followed and the heat pooled further in his face.

Havoc took a step forward, tilting his head up slightly.

"I suppose there's no harm in you knowing now. Unmask me."

Before Flynn had time to think, his fingers were on the edge of the white mask, yanking the knotted ribbon that held it on loose. From beneath the mask, Yuri was looking back at him, that terrible, incorrigible smirk still playing on his lips.

"Peekaboo."

"Y-Yuri!"

"Yeah, who else?"

"But--you--wait. Why?"

"You dumb ass. I told you. You've got your job to do and I've got mine." Yuri pulled the mask out of the Flynn's hands and tossed it aside. It clattered to the floor beside the sword. Yuri tangled his arms around Flynn's neck,  leaning close to him. "You promised and I'm holding you to it."

The anger didn't fade, but he kept it calmly controlled. Yuri's method had been ridiculous and drawn on way too long, but as least his reason had been a good one. He would be fully angry about it later on, once he stopped being so stunned.

"So how did you--?"

"It's a pretty long story, but Judy and the Red-Eyes helped."

"You owe me a better explanation than that."

"Whatever." Yuri kissed him and the ache that filled Flynn was a reminder of just how much he missed that touch, and others.

Flynn broke the kiss to breath, his hands finding the dip of Yuri's back beneath the layers of silken fabric and feathers. "I've got to say. I love the True Knight outfit, but this one...."

Yuri's smile broadened, sultry and hungry as he tilted against Flynn. "How about helping me out of it?"

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I Won’t Hate You But Oh It Stings

Warnings: Angst, so fucking cheesy, a wee bit of fluff Pairing: Sam x Reader Challenge: Ten Days of Kaleo Box Ticked: Save Yourself Word Count: 3.5k A/N: I’m actually very excited for this, I worked hard on it and it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy :) The title is inspired by a song from my favorite woman in the world (the song has nothing to do with the fic but if felt right as a title) Feedback always appreciated

She hated him. She hated him so much

How dare he? How dare he just waltz in her life and mess it all up. How dare he shake up her perfectly still waters, how dare he create tsunamis of feelings every time he was with her and then leave her with the turmoil in her stomach briefly touched but abandoned. How dare he have done this to her?

He left her hollow. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to feel, nothing left but the void that enveloped her thoughts in a swirling darkness. She was empty, void of emotions for she was left so devastated, so broken hearted that everything seemed to move around her but she was absolutely still. She was like a heavy rock in the ocean.

Bright hazel eyes filled her mind every time she thought of him, bright, safe and warm. So perfectly warm, like a big hug during a bad day. Butterscotch strands would fall in front of his prismatic eyes and my god he looked beautiful. That smile that brightened the entire room and those dimples, Jesus those dimples. Hands that were so gentle despite their size and arms strong enough to lift and break a fridge, true story.

She didn’t remember how she met him. She was a little too drunk for her memory to actually keep conversations and events fresh. The first moment her memory has collected is her dimly lit room, gentle eyes looking down at her with care and a soft fingertip brushing back her strands behind her ear.

“You’ll be okay” Those were the three words she remembers and God knows why he had said them. What she didn’t know was how often her mind would be replaying these words in situations she couldn’t even begin to imagine

You’ll be okay.

The morning after, she jerked up from her slumber, eyes blinking owlishly, head carrying a hammering pain. Any image of the man briefly passing through her thoughts convinced her he was but a dream. That’s until the feet that dragged her heavy, aching body towards her kitchen, lead her to a certain piece of paper on her counter, right next to a glass of water and a package of Advil.

Hey,

You probably don’t remember me, you drank a little too much last night, I figured you’d have a major headache right now.

No, we didn’t have sex last night but there was this big bar fight, -that might I say you kicked ASS at but that’s not the point- so I recommend icing your eye. It looked like you needed it. I just brought you home and you asked me to stay over -I didn’t-

If you need anything just call me

Sam

She flipped the page around, realizing there were digits scribbled across the page. She touched her eye in a rough movement and jumped, realizing he was right. It needed icing.

So dream man was actually real? Hm. He seemed like a really cool guy, taking care of her like that though he barely knew her and didn’t take advantage of her. Of course she doesn’t remember what she told him in her drunken state, but he was worth getting to know over a  cup of strong coffee. After the lights stopped making her suffer, that is.

It weighs heavier on one's heart I could tell right from the start that Sweeter ones are hard to come across

Somewhen mid-day, she sat on her couch, freshly showered and collected enough, Sam’s paper in her hands along with her phone. She typed in the number and contemplated on pressing the call button when she said ‘fuck it’ and threw caution to the wind. She pressed the green button and held the phone against her ear. He had already seen her drunk, how much more of a fool of herself could she have made?

Heart pumping wildly against her ribcage, she heard the faint beeping that signaled calling. She waited and waited, slowly giving up hope. She knew this was a long shot anywa-

“Hello?” a male voice rang through the phone.

“Uhm, uh…” She stared blankly across the room and pinched her leg to concentrate on her thoughts enough to speak. “Hi, uh, is this Sam?”

“It is. And you are?”

“My name is Y/n. I’m the hot mess of a girl from yesterday? Yeah” She chuckled dryly. Sam ‘oh’ed and let out a small laugh.

“Right! Hey! How’re you holding up? I didn’t think you’d actually call”

“Well I just called to say thank you. I cannot begin to imagine what my drunk ass put you through” He chuckled.

“No no, your drunk ass is actually pretty fun” he joked, making her smile

“I highly doubt that. But I’d like to repay you. Do you wanna go out for a coffee or something?” Smooth y/n. She rolled her eyes at herself.

“Uhm” Sam seemed to hesitate as a sigh rang through the phone.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I understand” She couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed by this turn of events.  She kinda really wanted to meet this guy.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just” He huffed, frustrated “Can we make it tomorrow? At 6?” he asked. She took a deep breath of relief and nodded.

“Yeah! Of course!” She vocalized her agreement, nodding eagerly.

“Great! I’ll come pick you up then?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Sure” She grinned.

“Awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow, then”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She bit her lip “Oh and Sam?” She asked, hoping he hadn’t hung up on her. He hummed “Thank you for everything, yesterday”

“It was nothing, really” Sam smiled, voice gentler.

“Well I gotta go right now” She stated, not very eager to leave the call “But yeah. You better be here! Six pm sharp!” She commanded playfully. Sam chuckled

“Yes ma’am!” he saluted back.

“Goodbye, Sam”

“Bye, y/n.”

And to that coffee date they went. She still can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that ever happened to her.

Well there is more than meets the eye Heart like yours is rare to find

She discovered the incredible person that Sam Winchester was. In that coffee shop they shared so many things. He was a rare human being. Gentle, caring and kind but there was an underlying ferocity and pain that was shimmering and waited for the right moment to appear. His hazel-green eyes stared into her own. His smile made the room brighter, more vivid, as if his heart was shining through. As they looked into each other she felt an instant connection between them. And for that very moment she believed that she had found a safe haven in his smile

It all started off with long stares each other and being too nervous to spark a conversation, although there was already so much going on between them without any words being said. She misses it. He didn’t know how vicious she could be and she wasn’t aware of how easily he can walk away from things. It was simply a wild attraction between two complete strangers, it was a staring contest, it was lust without the complications.

And then… then suddenly the complications sparked up. The turmoils of emotions swarmed both their bodies and hearts and minds and every time she flashed through his thoughts, his stomach clenched in the anticipation of seeing her again.

One cold, rainy night, Sam appeared on her doorstep, soaked to the bone, panting like a dog.

“Sam-?” She had no time to finish her sentence, no time to ask what’s wrong because he pulled her face in his hands and kissed her so passionately, her knees buckled. One arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up as she clung to his wet shirt, hands grabbing whatever they could find, gripping his shoulders, running up his chest and burying themselves in his hair. A pained moan shuddered through Sam, making her pull back and look at him, really look at him.

Hazel eyes lust blown but full of pain, crying for help. She held his cheeks gently, pecked his lips and wrapped him up in a hug, holding him protectively to her, like he was the purest gem she had ever encountered, like he must be protected at all costs. All fucks about her being equally soaked as him, being thrown out the window as she held him.

She guided him towards her bathroom, giving him the biggest and fluffiest towel she owned and running to her room as he entered the shower. She rummaged through her drawers and found her older brother’s sweatpants she had stolen and an oversized tee, along with some boxers she owned. She let him shower, neither of them having spoken a word from the moment he burst in. She silently entered the bathroom, while the water ran, leaving him the dry clothes and hanging the rest.

She went downstairs, made hot chocolate and ordered pizza, determined to have him stay for the night. As she wiped the counter, an excuse to keep herself busy, two arms wrapped around her waist. She smiled, dropping the rag she was holding, before she turned around in his arms and gave him a soft smile. Two fingers lifted his chin and his eyes met hers.

“Whatever is wrong,” her thumb started tracing his jaw softly “know that I won’t run,” Sam’s eyes fluttered closed, long lashes on his cheeks. “no matter how crazy, no matter how stupid you believe it is” she was whispering “I won’t run. Do you know why?” Sam shook his head, eyes still closed “Sammy, look at me” Hazel irises met hers. Her hand fully cupped his jaw. “I won’t run because I love you, Sam”

Bug-eyed and slackened mouthed, Sam stared at her, gaping. She leaned on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, mouth, travelling to his hairline, kissing him there just as protectively as she held him earlier. “I’m not forcing you to answer or say it back. Just know that I’m not going anywhere” She brushed some strands back, tucking them behind his ears. “Okay?” Sam’s eyes casted downwards, nodding, before he hugged her tightly against him, tears starting to soak her shirt

Little things that make you smile Dancing barefoot in the dark If only I had strength to change your mind Oh for what you need You will not sleep Choose your words before you speak Can you see that all you've got is time?

About half an hour later, Sam and her were cuddling on the couch, mindlessly watching a movie and munching on a pizza.

“I am sometimes scared to tell you how badly I’ve screwed up in my life.” Sam started saying. She placed the slice she was eating back in the box, licked her fingers and had her absolute, undivided attention on him “I... shake in fear that you will be disappointed in me, that you will yell at me, and, worse, that you will have to share my pain and misery.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes anywhere but on her. “I still choose to keep many things a secret but I know that if I were to tell you, you will be disappointed; you will yell at me; you will feel the agony. And I-” he sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to keep his act together “I don’t want to disappoint you, or chase you away. Because trust me, what I’m hiding is more than what you can imagine” He started fidgeting, fingers playing with hers.

“I’ve been wanting to say this all day today, but I was afraid that it was too early. Then you said it and now i-” he sighed “I knew though. I was sure. I knew that I loved you. I love you so much and it scares the hell out of me” He looked up at her. “Cause in the world i come from, the people I love, everyone, gets hurt, dies, or worse”

“Sam” she snuggled closer to him “It doesn’t scare me” His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to him, to make sure she was actually there. “Whatever it is that is chasing you, whatever it is I’m risking; my life, my sanity, my everything, there’s nothing and I mean nothing that can successfully  tear me away from you”

 Save yourself Oh won't you save yourself Oh darlin' save yourself for someone else Yeah, save yourself Oh darlin' save yourself Oh won't you save yourself for someone else

“Don’t” he seemed like he was in pain. Like what she had just told him dug into a wound. “Your life has potential, Y/n, you have the chance to go out there, make a life, marry someone, have kids, make a career. You shouldn’t stay with me, I’m not good for you. You have time. Precious time. The second I’m showing you what’s out there, what’s really out there, there’s no going back-”

She placed a hand on his mouth, cutting him off. “If and when I see your past, will you keep me? Will I be able to stay with you?” She asked, eyes thirsty for knowledge but not prying.

“I- I hope so” He said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles, pulling her closer, if humanly possible.

“Want to go to bed?” She asked him. They had fallen into place so comfortably. From the moment he kissed her everything just came naturally. The affection proudly shown.

Sam nodded and pushed himself on his feet, pulling her up with him “but first, dance with me” she giggled.

“But there’s no music” She whispered, their tones lowering.

“We don’t need it” he whispered back, pulling her away from the couch and wrapping his muscular, strong arms around her. She sighed and fell against his chest, fingers tangling behind his neck. He gently swayed her around, humming and feeling content.

“I’ll go wherever you take me” She whispered and listened to his heartbeat go skyward.

Don't give in to that feeling Don't give in darkness and faith, yeah You should be safe, yeah, with someone else 

Tell your secrets to the night You do yours and I do mine So we won't have to keep them all inside

 It was around 3am when Sam shot up, screaming and soaked in sweat.

“Sam?!” She grabbed the bottled water from the nightstand, trying to hand it to him, but instead of grabbing the bottle and chugging it down, he grabbed her hand and pulled her on his lap, hugging her tightly against him, with a hand against her head. She buried her nose in his sweaty neck, tossing the closed water bottle on the bed. She hugged him back shushing him and reassuring him that she’s here and not leaving, in small fragile whispers. She peppered his neck with kisses, comforting him in any way she could until his heartbeat returned to a normal rate.

“C’mon, get up” he said, urging her to follow him “I have to show you something” He muttered

“Show me what?” She gazed at him curiously, following his demand anyways but stealing the -now dry- hoodie he had been wearing when he came in her house.

“My story”

And he did. He showed her everything. From the monsters that hide in the dark, to the dreaded November 2nd in 1983, to Stanford, Jess, his brother, his dad, his whole life. Every time she doubted the truth in his words, all she had to do was look in his eyes and see the pain. That really said something.

By the end she had no idea what to say. She hugged him, needing the comfort in the contact and recognizing the same need in him.

It was a horrible awakening. The hunting life. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, angels, demons, the friggin’ Devil. She definitely didn’t expect his secret to be that big but she stood by her end of the promise.  She wasn’t backing away, she was not leaving.

The following weeks were, in a lack for better words, peaceful. Sam wouldn’t admit it, in fear of it being ruined, but he relished it. The two of them were literally like matching puzzle pieces, everything falling together so comfortably, so perfectly. Like they were cut out to fit each other.

What they didn’t know, unfortunately, was that this stillness? It was the calm before the storm.

Oh, for one so pure  Can't be sold Don't let your feelings take control Hold on to the one thing he's begging for

Sam seemed so shaken up when he came home from the grocery store that day. His eyes would dart around every corner of the room, shoulders rigid and jaw clenched. He was not himself and subconsciously she knew what was coming.

She daren’t ask what was wrong, simply held his hand and gave him a look, to which he responded with a gulp and a nod.

I’m fine.

She’d be stupid or blind, or both, to believe him but she pretended to do so for the sake of respect and privacy. He was a grown-ass man, if he wanted to talk about it, he knew he could, no matter the subject.

The next day when she woke up, the other side of the bed was cold. A pit grew in her stomach. She prayed he was just off to somewhere, or just in the kitchen preparing breakfast like he would do occasionally. Of course, that wasn’t the case when she walked down the stairs. A white paper caught her eye on the counter top.

With trembling fingers, she walked towards it. Immediately, she recognized Sam’s writing. Her heart fell to her stomach, breath shortening.

Save yourself Oh won't you save yourself Go on and save yourself for someone else Yes darlin' save yourself Oh won't you save yourself So go on and save yourself for someone else

 Woah are you gonna break?(2) Woah what's it gonna take? Yeah are you gonna break? (3 Woah what's it gonna take? Yeah are you gonna break?

 Are you gonna break? Are you gonna break? 

Hey,

I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this in person.

Dean called. Yes, my brother, the one who died and is supposed to be in the ultimate monster hell, called me yesterday. I have to find him y/n.  I have to. I know you’ll understand, you’re good like that, always have been.

There’s probably a better way to tell you but I know you’ll convince me to come along and there is no way in hell i’m letting you enter the life. Not now, not ever.

Truth is, it chases you, y/n. Hunting will find a way to reach you no matter how hard you try.  You can’t escape it, it’s hell and i’m not letting you live in it.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I cannot forget about you, I can’t move on.  I’d promise I’ll be back but… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. I won’t fill you with false hope. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to come home to you again.  Please move on. Forget about me, save yourself. I would too if I were you.

Just know that if I don’t come back, if the world is safe, if you are safe, then it’s worth it. It’s all been worth it.

I love you y/n. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

Sam

 And so it ended the way it started. With a letter. A fucking letter.

Her heart shattered, millions of pieces scraping her insides and she was helpless.

Hushed gusts of betrayal waved through her body and it hurt. My god, it hurt so fucking bad. She would weep and cry, curled up on the floor because nothing and no one could ever provide comfort after him.

She understood. Of course she did. She’d do the same if not worse. That didn’t make the pain better.

Maybe she didn’t hate him. Maybe she just hated the fact that he left. That he left her as an empty shell. She wouldn’t hate him, but oh it stung.

She’d wait. She’d wait for as long as she had to cause from what she knew of Sam, he’d be fine. She wouldn’t save herself because there was nothing to be saved from.

You’ll be okay

And there, on the floor, tear stained, flushed cheeked and sniffly, she realized she was wearing his jumper. And somehow that brought more hope in her than anything ever before.

Are you gonna break? 

Tags:

@deanssweetheart23 @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester  @impala-dreamer

[true-king-of-monsters]

Demon Face and Angel Heart

A/N: Nothing like a week or two long break to get the creative juices flowing.

Chapter 1: Bad Day, Worse Hangover

10 A.M. was the earliest Eren could wake after a night involving a threesome in his trailer.  The layout was littered with newspaper clippings, a box containing a half eaten pepperoni pizza, and his boots laying right beside a mattress while a flat screen TV flickers as it reports the daily news involving a message from a masked man claiming to speak for humanity.

“The demons have been increasing their power for millennia.” he spoke in a deepened voice, “They are on the verge of controlling mankind. Citizens, we have been kept sleeping in a manufactured illusion for too long. We must wake up!”

The TV cut back to a reporter in the news studio adorned with reds and blues and an eagle as its logo. His appearance gave the impression of an older man in his mid-50′s with a horrid combover and a face that was sagging from a presumed heavy amount of scowling at the outside world. 

“The masked lunatic you saw there claims to represent an organization called The Order.”

The tone in his voice was so grating that it managed to actually wake Eren up from his sleep to find himself stark naked except for a necklace that housed a red gem.

Lurching forward, Eren could feel his head pounding away as he tried gaining a sense of what happened last night. All he could muster was a foggy blur in his head. His short punkish hair was complimented by a downward scar on the right side of his face over on his eyebrow. 

“This group has claimed for several serious attacks in recent weeks.” The newsman reported. “He is undoubtedly a traitor and a terrorist.”

Eren cracked his neck as he sat naked in his bed. His back was covered in scratches and in between his shoulder blades was a marking. A circle with three pairs of wavy lines representing wings was then bisected by a sword being driven through the circle. The marking started to glow as his entire body was healed from his scratches. 

Eren saw a bottle marked with a devils appearance and the number 666 printed on the front to his left and grabbed it. The smell of whiskey filled his nose as he leaned back for a sip. On his arm was a note from one of the dancers he took home at the bar reading “Hell of a night. Call us!”

“And I for one am not for the death penalty, so….” the voice kept talking, “there’s only one way to do it; illegally shoot the son of a bitch. This is Bob Barbas, just doin’ God’s work.”

A pounding on the door earned Eren’s attention and a voice urgent in tone was shouting. 

“Eren! Get out of there, you’re in danger!” the voice shouted.

Eren opened the door to reveal a flash of sunlight off the pier and a petite blonde woman in an orange jacket that was splashed with blue sleeves and a blue hood, a stencil sheet rolled up and singed on her back, and a pair or jean shorts complete with boots and knee-high socks . Her face was noticeably a bit paler and in the center of her forehead was a pentagram. The sunlight felt like a flashing grenade went off in his face as he was stared at by the woman.

The mysterious woman was not amused by how she expected things to turn out. She expected him to put on a pair of pants at the very least, but instead she got a very detailed look at his naked body including a stunning six pack, chiseled pecs, and very toned muscles. The back of her head almost wanted her to tell him to turn around so she could marvel at his backside, but this was a time of crisis, not for desires of the flesh. 

“Who are you?” Eren slurred. “What do you want?”

“You were careless.” she replied, “You left a trail. Now he’s onto you.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s onto me?” Eren asked.

“A hunter demon,” she hissed.

A low growl could be faintly heard amidst the chattering people. The blonde woman turned to the ocean and felt a chill run up her spine as a demonic presence grew closer and closer.

“He’s here.” she gasped.

Eren could see a shadowy figure in the water taking form as the skies turned blood red. The people walking along the pier became nothing but walking silhouettes and the Hunter rose from the water. Its face was apish and had a large scar on its face where its nose should be.

“ERrrrrrrRRENNNnnnnn!” The low roar shook Eren’s bones, but he felt no fear. He welcomed the idea of a fight

“He is dragging you into Limbo.” The woman muttered.

“Demon scum.” Eren snarled.

“It’s too late, you’re gonna have to fight your way out.” She sighed.

The Hunter roared out and it was as if the entire pier convulsed in response. Jagged rock formations sprouted from the sea, the floorboards twisted, and pieces of carnival rides floated in midair. Limbo was a realm with its own set of physics far different from the human world and Eren was stuck with only one way out of a nightmare such as this. He needed to fight back.

“Shit!” Eren hissed. “Back in Limbo….Bad day for a hang-over.”

The Hunter leapt onto a rock formation and smirked at what it was aiming to collect. Mundus would offer a handsome reward for any demon that was audacious enough to capture Eren and return him dead or alive.

It reached behind to pull out an enormous grapple gun that was almost the size of an SUV and aimed it right at Eren. One pull of the trigger, and the claw launched forth and gripped his trailer. Eren was lucky to dodge out of the way, but was not exactly amused by how his trailer was caught in the crossfire.

“Get your filthy fucking claw off my trailer!” he spat.

The hunter demon pulled on the grapple gun and the trailer nearly came crashing down on Eren. Eren managed to dodge the impact and dodge the debris in his trailer. Eren’s reflexes allowed him to react to the debris flying around and even manage to put on whatever clothing he could find.

Crashing through the trailer window, Eren landed back on the pier with a gray tank top, black jeans, boots, and fingerless leather gloves on his body. 

The Hunter snarled in annoyance as the demon smashed the trailer midair only to find Eren on dry land.

“Missed.” Eren smirked as the demon plunged into the briny deep. The floorboards spat out a black ooze and a screeching noice came from the liquid. 

Demons made of organic and inorganic parts rose up with clubs adorned in spikes. Their white and black skulls shining in the blood red light gave them a menacing look. These were Lesser Stygians. Known as grunts of Hell’s legions, they lack brute force, but make up for in speed and numbers.

The symbol on Eren’s back started glowing as a sword manifested from the aether. The sword had a name for itself: Rebellion. It was a two-handed longsword with a silver hue with the forward facing edge forming a curved pattern for the guard and a rounded pommel resembling a face. 

“Time for a little Rebellion.” Eren smirked. His technique with Rebellion could best be described as “Sloppy, but highly effective against groups”. 

“You wanna fight?!” Eren spat at the Lesser Stygian charging at him. “LET’S GO!”

Eren swung the blade with a flurry of strikes with less grace one would expect from a man of his stature, but the effective force behind each blow was enough to tear them apart. Eren could feel his heart race in excitement as more of these creatures kept coming and he kept on slashing them down. It was a thrill for him.

Eren felt a light in his eyes shine as he launched three of these demons into the air with no effort, hack away a dazzling combo before landing an overhead blow sending them down to the floor in pieces.

“Slam Dunk!” Eren shouted. He could feel a smile growing with each killing skillfully timed dodge. The fight was heaven to him in Limbo. It gave him purpose.

“Keep coming.” Eren taunted more demons appeared. Eren lurched forward into the group thrusting the blade into one of them. A trillion swift thrusts, and the demon was in pieces. The remaining few attempted to strike Eren all at once, but it was too late. Eren backflipped and ended a few feet away from the swarm and lopped their heads off without even looking.

“Eren!” The stranger shouted, “This way.”

“Who said that?” Eren wondered as he ran along the pier.

In the distance, Eren could spot on a string of lights a bra housing two pistols. One was black and the other one was white resembling Desert Eagles with the grips that were twisted into sharp points and sported a ring shaped hammer as well as engravings near the bore. Their names were Ebony and Ivory. Eren used these weapons many times against demons he couldn’t quite reach with Rebellion, and if it weren’t for them, he would have been dead on numerous occasions.

“My guns?” Eren asked. His thoughts were interrupted by the shakes of the Hunter’s grapple gun smashing into the floorboards. One hard pull, and the pier started to collapse underneath him. He knew he had to make a run for it otherwise he’d be dead sooner than later. Eren leapt across the gaps and avoided trailers crashing down. As he made his way across, a trailer was tilting on the brink of plunging into the deep. Eren dashed as fast as he could to the string of lights and with a flip into the air, he landed on his feet with both guns in his hands.

“Ebony. Ivory. I missed you girls.” Eren purred. Eren turned around to unleash a barrage of bullets without ever needing to reload at the Hunter, but it only managed to barely tickle the monster. The demon smirked at how Eren was hopelessly outmatched from its perspective.

Eren continued on his way for an escape when his eyes caught a light shining. A chubby demon with a cherub design and horns emerged from the light. This creature was a Bathos, and although it looked like a cherub, it was anything but angelic.

“Target practice.” Eren said with interest. “Right on cue.”

Eren fired away at the winged monster, and reveled in how it was helpless against the bullets shredding it to pieces. More of them kept coming, and Eren felt an idea click in his head. Not knowing how he managed to do it, he could feel his guns charging with energy and with a pull of the triggers, two bullets ricocheted amidst three of the Bathos demons and knocked them about before Eren swung Rebellion like a baseball bat causing them to shatter.

Lesser Stygian troops entered the fray to provide the Bathos swarm an advantage as the cherub demons attempted to throw grenades composed of demonic energy at Eren. Eren used Rebellion to knock back the projectiles and the grenades exploded on impact reducing the Bathos to burned pieces. Eren turned to the Lesser Stygian and sliced it in half with Rebellion. The demon was still intact until Eren placed Rebellion on his back and the monster fell apart into two perfect halves.

Eren kept walking along when he heard a voice call out to him.

“Eren.” a familiar voice rang. The blonde woman from earlier was relieved to see him alive. Eren, however was not so happy as he pointed Ebony and Ivory at her.

“Don’t shoot!” she gasped. Her appearance was almost like a hologram to his eyes. “My name is Historia! I’m not a demon” she shouted. Her hands were raised over her head and she tried to keep calm as Eren was pointing two guns at her. “I’m still in the real world. You’re in Limbo.” Historia’s position and motions went unnoticed by the humans waling around. They must have though she was a street performer and went about their way.

Eren put down one of his guns. “How come I can see you clearly?” he asked.

“I’m a medium - psychic- I can phase into Limbo and communicate with you.” Historia explained. “I can see you, talk to you, but I’m not actually in Limbo with you.”

“And if I pull the trigger?” Eren asked.

“I’ll die.” Historia whimpered. “I’m risking my life here for you. I want to help.”

Eren paused weighing his options. He put down his gun and looked at her with annoyance written all over his face. “I don’t need your help.” he snarled.

“The Hunter has dragged you into Limbo.” Historia said. “I can get you out.”

“I’ve been down here before; I know how to get out.” Eren replied. “You fight whatever shitsucking demon dragged you in here.”

“You don’t want to fight the Hunter.” Historia asserted. “He’s not your regular demon.”

Historia walked off to find a way off the pier. Eren placed his guns away as he sighed realizing he’s got not no choice but to listen to her.

“Follow me.” Historia called. “Now!”

Eren started to wander through the debris and mangled architecture of Limbo. “Where did she go?” he wondered as he made his way to a ride spinning out of control. Lesser Stygians appeared from the black ooze and Eren was itching to fight back. 

With a swing of Rebellion, Eren was able to knock one of them onto the ride causing it to explode in a million pieces. The remaining few lashed out attempting to kill Eren, but he managed to dodge by leaping into the air and descending back down with a hailstorm of bullets. The demons then felt the heavy blow of a sword as all four were cleaved into chunks.

The sound of footsteps echoed as Eren saw the Hunter rise up from the sea only to chase him down the pier. The demon lunged forth onto the ferris wheel and something on it caught Eren’s attention. A leather black coat that was faded from years of wear and tear with red interior linings, a hood, and the Union Jack flag sewn onto the left arm was caught flapping on one of the seats.

“Is that my coat?” Eren asked. “How did it get up there?”

His answer would have to wait as the ferris wheel buckled and detached from the support beams and rolled towards him. The Hunter attempted that killing him with collateral damage would be effective against this adversary. 

Eren managed to dodge the oncoming debris and sliced his way through the inner workings of the wheel. A side flip and a nonchalant dodge later, Eren finally had his jacket back.

“Sweet.” Eren smiled. 

The damage done didn’t just affect the landscape in Limbo, but also poured into the real world as well. Raptor News Network had cameras rolling as the ferris wheel smashed through buildings and crushed people in its wake.

“Breaking news - we go live to our eye in the sky.” reported Bob Barbas, “Steve, I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”

Back in Limbo, Eren looked at the ferris wheel moving away and saw that he was now surrounded by a Bathos swarm and several Lesser Stygian troops. Eren was ready for another round of punishment.

The demons attempted to swarm him, but Eren was capable of knocking them around like rag dolls. A well timed shot from his pistols here, a swing from his sword there, and the demons were reduced to severed limbs and husks.

The Hunter, perched on top of a building, leapt to a rock jutting out and aimed the grapple gun at Eren.

“Hey!” Eren shouted. “Get town here and fight!” The Hunter aimed for the floorboards and managed to manifest a hand from the wood. Eren caught a glimpse of a yellow light from inside an attraction house as he dodged the hand grabbing at him. It was his only chance.

Eren used his the reload time the Hunter had to make a move and dashed to the attraction. The Hunter shot and missed, but mange to block Eren off leaving him trapped inside.

Eren made his way up the stairs of the haunted house and went down the hallway. An obvious animatronic sprang forth and made a scream that was unable to frighten even a mouse.

“Get lost!” Eren huffed as he kept running. The Hunter’s arm smashed through the structure to paw at him.

“Oh shit!” Eren gasped as he dodged being caught by the monster. As the rubble collapsed near the hole, Eren made his way to a portrait gallery full of eyeballs staring at him and banked left. His reflection was in the midst of a colossal mirror. Eren walked towards it only to encounter the Hunter right behind the glass as it shattered into pieces. It swung right at him, but Eren was too quick for the beast as he leapt up the wall and landed back down on his feet. Eren drew Rebellion out for the killing blow, but the Hunter attempted an overhead strike with a knife the size of a car. Eren blocked the knife and managed to send the demon crashing into a wall by using its momentum against him.

“Hey! Get back here!” Eren taunted as the demon roared before fleeing away. Eren made his way down a flight of stairs while passing a row of colossal animatronics that giggled like children. Their bug-eyed gaze felt as if they were watching his movement.

“Exit. Good.” Eren sighed in relief as he saw the exit sign before him in a room full of gears and motors whirring about. The gears soon jerked and created a barricade for Eren. “Not good.” he huffed. A Lesser Stygian attempted to swing at him only to feel the crushing blow of a metal gear smashed into pieces as Eren dodged with minimal effort.

More of them kept crawling up and Eren managed to knock the monsters into the gears with a combination of swipes. As the gears moved down, even thought he would be able to escape. However, Limbo always did play by its own rules and the door slid away from him and laid out obstacles for him.

A trio of spinning saw blade gates was the only thing keeping Eren out, but Eren’s speed and agility managed to come into play. 

Eren finally exited the structure only to be greeted by the Hunter’s knife spinning at him leaving a wake of destruction. Amidst the debris was a white long haired wig, presumably from a gift shop, that landed on Eren’s head. Eren turned to a nearby mirror and chuckled at what he saw. His own face with a mop of white hair and bangs seemed a bit silly for his taste. “Not in a million years.” he smirked as he tossed the wig off his head and fired at the monster.

Historia appeared behind him glad to see him alive, but she was concerned about Eren not thinking his way around the problem at hand. His bullets were unable to even sting the monster walking towards him on all fours.

“That won’t work.” Historia said.

“Why not?” Eren asked.

“He’s bulletproof.” she replied. 

Eren was annoyed by how his trusty guns had no effect. Just then, the floorboards began to shake and violently rip apart.  

“There’s a rift up ahead.” Historia called to Eren.

“A what?” Eren asked dodging the debris.

“It will take you back to the real world. We’ll come back for the Hunter.” Historia exclaimed. 

While other humans ran to safety of the mainland, they had no idea what was going on in Limbo. Buildings began to tear apart and levitate, rocks jutted out like teeth, and a large monster was chasing after Eren. Historia made her way to the exit after seeing Eren stop at a halt as the Hunter used its grapple gun to create a barricade trapping him. 

“Okay, then.” Eren hissed. “Let’s fight.”

“Eren, wait!” Historia cried out as she threw a molotov cocktail at the Hunter. Her aim was impeccable as it managed to his the beast in the face causing it to shriek in agony as the flames blinded him.

“It’s working.” Historia chirped. “You can fight him now. It won’t be easy. Hunters are brutal fighters.”

“So am I.” Eren replied. Eren readied his guns and aimed for the wound on the Hunter’s face. A storm of bullets was enough to send the monster snarling in pain and lash out. 

“Eren, can you still hear me?” Historia cried out while witnessing from the real world an ape-like creature attacking Eren with a knife the size of a taxi.

“Yeah, I can still hear you!” Even called back dodging its swiping blows.

“Attack its face!” Historia cheered on.

Eren leapt pinto the air and swung away at the beast’s face. The pain was unbearable as the monster collapsed in agony. Eren struck back harder as the monster fell down.

“Oh, you feel it now, don’t you?” Eren taunted.

The Hunter scrambled back up and gained its distance. It blew out a black cloud of smoke and threw its blade at Eren in the hopes it would carve him in half. Eren could hear the spinning dagger coming and blocked it with Rebellion. The impact was then redirected towards the monster knocking it out as well as dispersing the mist in the process. Eren hacked away at the demon until it finally was too exhausted to even move.

“Game over.” Eren snarked.

“Son….of Grisha……” The monster spoke.

“Son of who?” Eren asked.

“You have been found.” it growled. “You are dead, just like your whore mother.”

“Whore mother?” Eren asked. “I don’t know my mother, but if you’e calling me a son of a bitch, you wouldn’t be the first!” Eren felt the anger drive his blade into the creature’s skull as it made a wet cutting noise. The resulting act managed to bring Eren back to the real world as the blood red skies became gray and cloudy once again with buildings smashed or burned by fire.

“My mother….” Eren muttered as he collected his senses. “I barely remember her…” A blurry memory stuck out in his head of him as a child. A beautiful woman whose face was obscured gave him his necklace. It was all he could muster. 

Hours passed and Eren walked along the beach roads where cop cars zoomed past him. A black car rolled up past him driven by Historia herself.

“Are you okay, Eren?” Historia asked. 

“How do you know my name?” Eren asked back.

“My boss knows you. He wants to meet.” Historia replied with a small smile. “Please. I helped you back there.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” Eren hissed at her. He looked to see the cop cars zooming past him only to reconsider her proposal. Either go with her or spend time in jail. He decided the former would be much more rewarding compared to dealing with cops all day and signaled her to drive him to her boss.

“We know all about you, Eren.” Historia said as she drove off with him. “I’m with an organization called The Order. Heard of it?”

“Something to do with that masked freak on the net?” Eren asked.

“That’s my boss.” she answered.

“Wonderful.” Eren sassed. “Can’t wait.”

The Raptor News Network was broadcasting on the enormous screen outside the news tower. 

“We’re just receiving reports of a terrorist attack that has taken place at the Bellevue pier in the western district of the city.” The voice was none other than Bob Barbas himself covering the damage brought about by Eren’s fight with the demons. “Police are asking the public to remain vigilant - further terrorist attacks could take place anywhere, any time, and when you least expect them.”

Inside of the Silver Sachs tower, Mundus and Lillith watched the news report unfurl on a screen bigger than a couch. Mundus himself was pleased by how things have turned out despite a Hunter having been killed in action. 

“We have your scent, Son of Grisha.” Mundus smirked. “Now it’s just a matter of time.”

[rankakiu]

Thoughts of the Droid: Avengers Infinity War (2018)

Hello, people of Tumblr! How life treats you? As always, I hope very well. With a few days left for the premiere of Avengers Endgame, I decided to share with you my opinions and impressions of the previous film Avengers Infinity War. I hope you enjoy it.

WARNING: NOT SPOILER-FREE. Read at your own risk.

First I will mention a somewhat irrelevant detail, but that I also want to say: I thought that this would be a more serious film, practically without jokes in between, but when after a few minutes these began to shine, I sighed and said to myself that it was not worth bothering anymore. Asking Marvel for a serious movie WITHOUT jokes is like asking for elm pears. In short, there they. Although the truth is told, I admit that they were not excessive as in previous movies (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Spider-Man: Homecoming).

In favor of the film, in the moments of action and above all of drama, the film takes itself seriously and emphasizes in particular the gestures and actions of those involved, since the emotion that they reflect, I, spectator, I can feel an empathy towards them, especially the heroes, because here we not only see them separated by the conflict seen in Captain America: Civil War, we also see them already aged, in the pinnacle of their abilities and powers, and a good part of them they become pariahs and exiles and yet they put aside their differences and resentments to fight against a fearsome enemy that seeks the salvation of the universe in a radical way.

Of course, I could not stop mentioning the villain on duty, Thanos, the titan of the universe. Here if I must applaud the work that has done in Marvel Studios, as they have delivered a memorable and well-constructed villain. With Thanos, there are three outstanding villains (the other two being Vulture and Erik Killmonger). Thanos leaves the conventional cliché that Marvel had us used to. Instead of being an evil villain who twists his mustache, he releases his evil laugh and seeks destruction only because yes, he is a villain who firmly believes that his crusade is not only fair but necessary. I emphasize that Thanos is not against life itself, it is against it growing without control and in fact, in a few dialogues, Thanos mentions that unbridled life leads to ruin by the limited resources of the universe, that makes a current analogy with our species, because by our irresponsibility these increasingly scarce and at an alarming rate.

Beyond that, they also dare to show Thanos as a being with feelings. Yes, he has a serious attitude, arrogant and with a messianic complex, but he can also feel sadness and even empathy and respect with his enemies, to the point that he shed tears for the death of Gamora to get the gem of the soul and understanding the pain of Scarlet Witch, who was forced to destroy Vision; mention of the fact that he recognized the worth of those who dared to face him. No doubt Thanos is one of the strongest and most remarkable aspects of the film. 

Another equally attractive aspect of the film, undoubtedly, is the action, especially the combats of the heroes against Thanos, his warriors and his hordes of monsters. Mention honor the fight on Titan, for me, the best combat scene. Not only is it well choreographed and filmed, but it is also a very intense battle, where our heroes use their powers, abilities, and talents to their advantage to defeat Thanos.

Something that I liked about all the fights was that they showed the power of Thanos in full glory, implying that with or without the gems of the infinite, he is too powerful and implacable and has the right to brag about his strength, a kind of god that inspires fear and respect and that should not be underestimated for a second. Another little detail that I liked was that, despite being powerful, the heroes can almost fight a heads-up against him, and proof of that was that they could hit him, they were able to shoot him down, hold him, counterattack and block his huge fists. And I like it because that way the fights are more dynamic and fair and allow Thanos' victory to really feel that he got it with real effort. 

Passing to the final scenes, they manage to be dramatic and above all very emotional, specifically the disappearance of many of the heroes, disintegrating in full air. The end, more than being tragic, is rather one full of uncertainty, where the survivors hardly understand what is happening, they are just processing that they have lost the battle and they have lost invaluable companions and that, if they ask me, makes them seem more fragile and vulnerable, for the first time we see them broken and finished, practically dead of fear and with their confidence destroyed. This time, the Avengers have not been able to save the world and universe, they have not even been able to save themselves.

But not everything is honey over flakes, because although the scenes of the death of several characters if they are moving, will not be much for future deliveries since it is very possible that most or even all of them come back to life after the defeat of Thanos or in full final battle against him. And that will make the drama and emotion reached in the end totally lose its purpose, which is precisely to see the heroes fallen and broken by their failure. It's not because it's bad, but I think some of them must remain dead, like Gamora and Vision, since their deaths could well be a kind of motivation for Scarlet Witch and Star-Lord to be better versions of themselves. In short, it is almost a fact that, as with comics of this kind, the same thing will happen in its sequel and I summarize it in this sentence: "don’t worry, they'll come back".

Summarizing some other points, the special effects are visually attractive and amazing and the different places where the story unfolds and battles feel unique and alive. The music complements the film very well and helps to excite the viewer.

In conclusion, this is a very interesting and successful proposal in the superhero cinema and I would even dare to say that it is one of the best, and it will earn the right of many to be a compulsory collection title. Despite its shortcomings, it is a movie that sustains itself and manages to be engaging from start to finish, the highlight of the Marvel film universe. From now, I give this movie a 4 out of 5 Gauntlets of Infinity, a film worth seeing again and again.

There you have it, gentlemen. My review of Avengers Infinity War, from a year ago, and that I now share with you, as a way to lighten the wait with Avengers Endgame. Rest assured that when I take a look at Avengers Endgame, all of you will have my review. Count on it!

Greetings

Rankakiu

P.S. There is a question that torments me, that does not let me sleep at night, that worries me during the day and it's not because Black Widow is blonde, but what hair dye did she use to make that pale blond? XD.

[omeglerpavengersotp]

Stranger: (Teacher/student AU) tony had no idea why the hell he was in detention. All he had done was shove a kid into a locker because he had made fun of his father. Yet here he was, detention in his history class. It wasn't all that bad though. He had MR. Rogers as a teacher and he swears he has seen nothing more perfect than that man and wanted nothing more than to have Rogers bend him over a desk. but he wasn't going to ask straight forward. "So Mr. Rogers....get to put up with little old me for 2 hours. Fun right?"

You: Rogers was very well aware of Tony Stark the smart-mouthed trouble maker. He understood why the young rich man was so violent, but still that sort of behaviour was not acceptable in his teaching principle. Somehow, he just wanted to help the dashing looking little guy out rather than obnoxiously shoving school rules at him. "Well I am glad to have a good conversation with you, Stark. What was the problem this time?"

Stranger: "Some jerk thought it was the grandest idea to think that speaking of my ass of a father in front of me was wise.....I simply showed him it wasn't."

You: "He certainly wasn't wise but that doesn't mean you can teach him with your fists. You know that violence isn't the answer." Steve dragged a chair and next eye-to-eye with Tony.

Stranger: Tony felt heat on his face as the blonde drew close to him. "Just because I know something is wrong, doesn't mean i'll avoid it."

You: "You are an intelligent one, Tony. I am quite sure you knew what was the best solution, but you seem quite emotional nowadays. Are there anything that you want to talk about? Or empty out your frustration?" Steve fixed himself to be in more comfortable position and slightly leaned his head toward Tony. His blue eyes were completely fixated on his student.

Stranger: Tony, gulped. God he was so close.....he could feel the warmth of Steve"I.....I uh...no." Did he just stutter?

You: Steve let out a small chuckle at that adorable stutter. He knew it was illegal to feel such attraction towards his pupil, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. "No need to be frightened. I am always here if you want to talk in the future, Stark. Now, let me get that detention workload for you." He stood up as he clapped on Tony's shoulder and grabbed the worksheet.

Stranger: "What?! You are giving me this? And here I thought you were actually softening up to me......."

You: "I got to my job, Tony. When was I ever not soft with you?" Steve grinned and dropped thick looking white booklet in front of Tony.

You: "I got to do* my job,"

Stranger: "How in the hell am I supposed to finish this in 2 hours? How are we going to have our friendly chat if I have to do this?"

You: "So you have something to talk about? My ears are all open for you." Steve brought tests that he had to mark and sat right beside Tony. He had to put his glasses on although they were uncomfortable like hell.

Stranger: Tony felt hot again. "I.......just thought we could get to know each other more...."

You: "How about we take turns in asking questions? You can start." Steve's grin was widening but he quickly hid it. He forced his eyes on the test papers to not seem like he is enjoying this situation.

Stranger: Tony smirked. "Okay.......where were you born?"

You: "Manhattan. Where do you like to go for a quiet time?" This question was sort of an obligation as a teacher - who knows he can use this to control Tony's anger issue?

Stranger: "I like my lab i got downstairs in my house. Not as big as my dad's but still pretty homey....favorite food?"

You: "Good ol' steak and fries. I get hungry fast. How about you? We can grab a dinner after this." Did that sound a bit too pedophilic? But dinner with a student isn't something wrong.

Stranger: Tony grinned "Yeah I could go for that." He was halfway done with the packet,, actually easier than he thought. "He um Mr. Rogers?"

You: "Yes?" Steve was half done with marking for this kid's appalling essay, but it wasn't like he was paying too much attention to it anyway.

Stranger: Tony stopped. "So what exactly were trying to get out of me earlier? About the whole fight thing?"

You: "I was telling you that you can't fist your way out of every insults that you get. This detention is a warning but if you do it again, not even your father can save you from getting expelled." Steve looked at Tony and twirled his pen around his thumb. There were many incidents that Tony caused but it was slowly crossing the line.

You: they were*

Stranger: Tony shrugged. "My father hates me. Its not like I want to get expelled....its just...." He paused to look up at Steve.

You: "...but you love him, don't you?" Their eyes met. Steve could see the pain of being neglected in Tony's eyes, but there wasn't much he could do but supporting the little guy within his circumstances. He grabbed on Tony's hand firm. "You are a good boy, Tony. I wish that I don't have to tell you all these generic 'violence is bad' talk to you because I know it's hard for you. That is why I asked you to talk to me whenever rather than violent retaliation."

Stranger: Tony felt guilt and pain wash over him. Then felt Steve's hand. Tony looked up, tears beginning to form. "I....I have to love him. He's my father but........he just thinks i'm the worst thing to walk the face of the earth."

You: That made Steve's heart crack a little. He had sudden urge to give him a comforting kiss on those crying eyes, but his role as a teacher was not meant to do such intimacy. Instead, he hugged that trembling body and gently pat him on his back. "He doesn't realise how much of a gem you are, Tony. We will know you shine and radiate with intelligence."

Stranger: Tony sobbed into to Steve. He hadnt realized that above all else, a teacher, no, maybe his one friend, could make Tony Stark cry. "Mr. Rogers....."

You: "It's okay. It's all going to be okay." He felt his shoulder getting wet, but it didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered other than making Tony feel alright

Stranger: "I...I have something to tell you....." He said, sobs beginning to subside

You: "What is it?" Steve released Tony to see have their eyes meeting again.

Stranger: Tony didnt care if he'd be expelled or not, but he leaned forward and kissed Steve, pressing their lips together.

You: Steve's eyes widened at the contact. His logic was telling him to back away, but this was what he wanted quite a while. With mixed signals in his brain, he couldn't bring himself to embrace Tony tightly but pushed his head forward to deepen their kiss.

You: (i have dinner but i will be back - if i get disconnected, email me on strepolicus.k@gmail.com)

Stranger: okay!!!

You: but keep writing though because i will be back :D

Stranger: Tony didn't think Steve would press back but when he did, Tony wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck.

Stranger: just tell me when youre here :)

You: (back :D)

Stranger: yay!

You: The pressure on his neck became the trigger. Steve wrapped his arms tighter and closed his eyes to just enjoy this sensation. He gently prodded his tongue on Tony's upper lip but hesitated to proceed further.

Stranger: Tony felt steve's tongue and oh God.....he opened his mouth invitingly, letting Steve in.

You: Their tongues met and slid against each other. Steve licked both of the opposite kisser's cheeks as he could smell Tony's breath. He wanted to go further but the knock on the classroom door made him pull back. Thankfully the room had no windows and they closed the door before the detention began.

Stranger: Tony jumped backwards hearing the door, panting and turning to see who had interrupted them. whoever it was......

You: "Mr Rogers? Are you in there?" It was Phil Coulson from class B. Steve knew that he had to keep an objective view on his students, but this young fellow seemed to follow him around almost everywhere.

Stranger: Tony rolled his eyes. Of course it would be Phil. The guy always tails steve anywhere he goes. Probably wants to finally get Steve's autograph or picture or something....

You: Steve didn't want to ruin the mood and answer Phil, but it was impossible to do anything further in a classroom anyway.  "I hoped that we could talk more and have dinner that we promised, but looks like Phil needs some help. I can meet up later tonight, if you want."

Stranger: Tony frowned, a little pout forming but nodded his head. "Where at?"

You: "At Dominos. We can decide what to eat later." Steve gave Tony a little scrub on his brown hair. He stood up and opened the door, and didn't expect Phil to look up at him with such shining eagerness. "Oh hello, Tony."

Stranger: Tony did his best to smile. "Hey Phil. What brings you here?"

You: "I just needed to ask Mr Rogers about these questions. Are you here to study too?" Phil flailed a thick book that looked like a bible.

Stranger: "Haha you know me Phil. I don't need to study." He began to walk out the door. "Bye Phil..........see ya Mr. Rogers." He turned and hoped Steve had found his number he had scribbled on the worksheets.

You: Steve waved Tony a goodbye and collected Tony's work. He saw a little present for him and felt warm in his heart. "What are you smiling at, sir?" "Oh, nothing. So what are these questions?" He quickly ripped the number and shoved it in his pocket before Phil could even bombard him with his academic enthusiasm.

Stranger: Tony layed upside down on his bed waiting until it was time to go to the restaurant. He thought about everything that had happened in that classroom. Steve had felt so warm and good.........and then suddenly heard his alarm go off telling him it was time. He pulled on a jacket and some shades, and hopped into his car, driiving off to his date.

You: Steve felt quite exhausted with all the questions he had to answer, but as soon as Phil thanked him and left the classroom, he regained his energy at the thought of his date. He ran through the corridor and readied his car key, but suddenly the drama teacher Ms Romanoff blocked him. "Oh, um, I need to go Natasha." "I know what you were doing." That gave him a cold shiver on his back.

Stranger: (Should I be Natasha?)

You: (that would be nice :D)

Stranger: (haha okay so does she actually know?)

You: (just a suspicion because she is good a reading people's face and all, being a stealthy drama teacher she is)

Stranger: (okay!)

You: (will be back)

Stranger: "Mr. Rogers I have a bad feeling about you and I suggest you be extra careful around a very serious game you are playing. I don't know every detail but I don't need them. "

You: "What do you mean, Ms Romanoff?" Steve didn't want to acknowledge that the redhead knew, and denying it once more couldn't hurt...

Stranger: Natasha pursed her lips. "Just be careful Steve. I don't want you to get hurt, let alone fired."

You: "...thank you." Steve gulped and gave her the most awkward half smile ever. He bolted out of the school as if he was being chased, but it was only his anxiety and eagerness that drove him out. The clock was already hitting quarter past five and he was going to be late. Are you already there? - SR

Stranger: Tony's phone buzzed as he sat down in the pizza parlor.  Yeah I'm here-TS

You: I will be there as soon as I can - SR It was a lousy parking, but he didn't care about that right now. As soon as he entered the parlour, he sat beside Tony and gave him a discrete kiss on the cheek. "How long have you been here for?"

Stranger: Tony looked at his watch. "Thirteen minutes."

You: "Ouch. Sorry I got caught up with Phil and..." Steve wondered if he should tell Tony about Natasha, but he didn't want to cause an unnecessary panic on their first date. "...nevermind. What shall we get?"

Stranger: "What kind do you you like?" Tony asked, glancing at the menu

You: "Classic peperoni would be fine for me. Choose any and I will pay." The prices were thankfully cheap because being a teacher wasn't a million dollar job.

Stranger: "Nah I got it." He stood up and went to order for them, ordering a medium pepperoni pizza.

You: Steve nearly stood up to stop Tony before he remembered how rich his student was. "I almost forgot that my monthly salary is your weekly allowance."

Stranger: Tony chuckled. "Don't worry. You can pay next date." He sat down and smiled at the blonde.

You: "If you would let me." Steve looked down at Tony and stared at him for a while. He wanted to kiss the boy again, but he was cautious of who might be watching.

Stranger: Tony giggled. Wow that was unexpected. "Hey if you want to don't let me stop you....unless I want to pay."

You: "Sure." He clapped Tony's shoulder again and sighed. Everything seemed to run quite smooth, which made him wonder if they are going too fast. Steve was raised with traditional upbringing, and kiss on a first date was bit of a jet pack for him. "Um, if you feel uncomfortable with the rate that we are going, you can tell me to stop occasionally."

Stranger: Tony laughed. "Mr. Rogers...we aren't going fast at all. Actually to think about it....right now you are the longest relationship I've had."

You: "Really? Half a day is your longest one?"

Stranger: Actually maybe more like three hours."

You: It was quite embarrassing to compare oneself with a teenage boy, but Steve's longest romantic business was being attracted to his best friend Bucky until few years ago. They didn't even go out together so technically Tony was Steve's first commitment in relationship. "Oh of course. Kids nowadays have short relationships, hm?"

Stranger: Tony swatted him playfully. "Not this kid. You dont seem to be a one night stander right?" Tony grinned.

You: "...pizza is here." Steve didn't want to lie but also didn't want to answer that question either. It was strange, having this sort of conversation with someone who is younger and yet more sexually active then him.

Stranger: Tony looked to see the pizza placed in front of them. "MMmmm well....bon apetite."

You: He took a slice and tried to diffuse the awkwardness, but damn he was crap at conversation sometimes. His attention was easily focussed on his date's sharp looking nose, well groomed hair and those lips that dripped with cheese.

Stranger: Tony caught Steve staring. "Something interesting there Steve?"He laughed quietly.

You: "Your lips. Say, what do you want to do after this?"

Stranger: Tony smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

You: "We could go back to my place and um, maybe watch a movie? I can drop you back to your house if you don't want to stay over for a night."

Stranger: Tony grinned. "Sounds perfect."

You: After their meal, both of them drove to Steve's place on Tony's car. "Who knew my car ran out of gas just like that?"

Stranger: "I think it was a mighty big coincidence."Tony winked at Steve. "So what movie were you thinking of?"

You: "I have a netflix account that Bucky helped me to set up. We used to share the flat but now I live alone."

Stranger: "Oh what happened?"

You: "He joined the military few years ago. I thought about joining him but my body was pretty scrawny back then. I built up this figure to be accepted, but it doesn't matter anymore." He ignored the bitterness in his mouth.

Stranger: Tony placed a kiss on Steve's lips while the blonde was driving. "You matter to me."

You: "Looks like I have made the right decision, considering that I have stumbled upon you." He drove with constant smile on his face. As they entered his flat, Steve dumped all his laundry out of the bed and brought the laptop.

Stranger: Tony plopped down on the couch comfortably, placing his head on Steve's lap.

You: They stayed close together as the movie proceeded, but Steve couldn't focus when Tony was with him, all alone without any disturbance. The sensation he felt back in the classroom was still lingering

[caveartfair]

Why Everyone Loves Poet, Warhol Muse, and Underground Hero John Giorno

UGO RONDINONE: I LOVE JOHN GIORNO, John Giorno’s Dial-A-Poem, 1970. Photo by Gianfranco Mantegna. ©John Giorno, Courtesy of John Giorno Archive and Nadine Johnson.

Before reading this piece, I’d like you to make a phone call. Just do it: (641) 793-8122. After one ring, a sonorous voice will greet you on the other end of the line. It might belong to Patti Smith or Allen Ginsberg or David Byrne. They won’t listen to you. Instead, they’ll read you a poem.

In 1969, when poet and artist John Giorno first introduced this unconventional hotline, which he dubbed “Dial-a-Poem,” it received 1,112,237 calls in its first four-and-a-half months. “The busiest time was 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., so one figured that all those people sitting at desks in New York office buildings spend a lot of time on the telephone,” Giorno once quipped. Since then, the number you call has changed (it was originally 212-628-0400), but the impact of the piece remains resolutely the same: to bring a vast range of radical artists together in one place; offer up a platform for their most transgressive, heady work; and deliver it to as many people as possible.

A similarly generous spirit has defined both Giorno’s long life (he recently turned 80) and his uncommonly influential art practice. Both are spotlighted this summer in a 13-venue exhibition in New York, at venues like The Kitchen, the New Museum, and Artists Space. It doubles as sprawling artwork conceived by artist Ugo Rondinone, Giorno’s partner of two decades (a condensed version of the project was first presented at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris in 2015). The show spreads examples of Giorno’s poetry, paintings, and influence across his hometown of New York, embedding it in small and large art spaces, animating performance venues, and filling glass window displays on Broadway. It’s fittingly titled “I ♥ John Giorno,” alluding to the outsized impact that the artist has had on the city’s creative landscape over the past 60 years.

Laurie Anderson, William Burroughs, John Giorno: You're the Guy I Want To Share My Money With, 1981 . © Giorno Poetry Systems, Courtesy of John Giorno Archive and Nadine Johnson.

When I speak with Giorno by phone from his legendary loft on the Bowery, “I ♥ John Giorno” has recently opened. The artist is in a state of awe. “I know I lived this life, I know I made this work,” he says, in the honeyed lilt familiar from public readings of his poems. “But the fact that it’s all miraculously arisen, in all these spaces in the city where I’ve lived for so long, amazes me.”  

It’s not hard to be blown away by the ambitious enterprise, which surfaces a voluminous cache of works by Giorno, alongside projects by a huge number of fellow artists who were moved by them. This latter group spans generations and artistic movements, between which Giorno has always fluidly glided. He has been at the heart of a daunting number of historical moments, from the Beat scene to Andy Warhol’s Factory and the genesis of Pop art, which he helped launch. Giorno was also integral in forging the 1970s and ’80s avant-garde scene at CBGB and Judson Church, where he wove together a mixture of rock and spoken-word performance. From 1982 until 1989, Giorno’s eponymous band used his poems as a jumping off point for experimental music. In the 1990s and 2000s, he began focusing on what he called “Poetry Paintings”: canvases that whittled his long, lyrical verses down to persuasive, passionate mandates.

Installation View of Thanx 4 Nothing, 2011 by Ugo Rondinone at Sky Art, 2017. Photo by Daniel Pérez © Ugo Rondinone. Courtesy of Nadine Johnson.

Despite the breadth of his career, poetry has always remained the core of Giorno’s practice, and its power is on full display in a video that loops at Sky Art. We see the artist performing a 2006 work, THANX 4 NOTHING: a confessional of sorts, and also an abbreviated autobiography, penned 11 years ago on his 70th birthday.

In it, Giorno, barefoot, lists his life’s many hedonistic pleasures and chafing pains, and then metaphorically gives them back to all his friends: “I want to give my thanks to everyone for everything, and as a token of my appreciation, I want to offer back to you all my good and bad habits as magnificent priceless jewels, wish-fulfilling gems satisfying everything you need and want.” He invites readers to smoke a joint with his good friend and former roommate William Burroughs, and have “totally great sex” with his lovers “Bob” (Rauschenberg), “Jasper” (Johns), and “Ugo” (Rondinone).

The spirit of THANX 4 NOTHING, which vigorously harnesses the richness of life (both its vertiginous highs and lows) then gifts them to others, runs through Giorno’s entire practice. His paintings, on view at the Rubin Museum, NYU’s 80WSE gallery, and Red Bull Arts, among other venues, reflect the same honest, generous energy. They’re alternately inspirational and rawly sexual: “YOU GOT TO BURN TO SHINE,” “IT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENS, IT’S HOW YOU HANDLE IT,” and “I WANT TO CUM IN YOUR HEART.”

Installation View of  Andy Warhol, Sleep, 1963 and other works by Andy Warhol, at Swiss Institute, 2017  Photo by Daniel Pérez. © The Andy Warhol Museum, Pittsburgh; Founding  Collection, 2017 The Andy Warhol Foundation for  the Visual Arts, Inc./ Artists Rights Society (ARS),  New York. Courtesy of Nadine Johnson.

What makes “I ♥ John Giorno” most insightful is its insistence on the importance of the artist’s impact and network. The Swiss Institute, for instance, is completely devoted to Giorno’s collaborations with his friend and lover, Warhol. During the 1960s, Giorno played muse to the Pop god in various films, 10 of which are on view here. Across them, Giorno joyously flies a kite with Robert Indiana (Untitled (John in Country), 1963), washes dishes in the buff (John Washing, 1963), and sleeps angelically for five hours and 21 minutes (Warhol’s legendary Sleep, 1963).

That influence extends to younger artists, too, some of whom weren’t even alive when Giorno got his start. Pierre Huyghe riffed on Sleep in a 1998 video, Sleeptalking, which superimposes his own footage of the artist sleeping (shot when Giorno was in his early sixties) over Warhol’s video from over 30 years prior. Giorno has also been a frequent portrait subject for diverse painters—from Elizabeth Peyton to Billy Sullivan, Verne Dawson, and Judith Eisler—and captured on film by the likes of Michael Stipe and Rirkrit Tiravanija. And Giorno’s most iconic project continues to inspire: Young poet and artist Janani Balasubramanian will perform “iOS-a-Poem,” a version of “Dial-a-Poem” updated for the digital age.  

“I ♥ John Giorno” traces a vital facet of the artist’s output at White Columns, where the non-profit is focusing on the record label, Giorno Poetry Systems (GPS), that he founded in 1965 in order to bring poetry into the vernacular popular culture. He also saw the project as a direct response to the political climate of the time, and an act of resistance against the Vietnam War and the government’s ever-mounting conservatism. “At this point, with the war and the repression and everything, we thought this was a good way for the Movement to reach people,” he wrote, in the sleeve of the 1972 anthology double-album Dial-a-Poem-Poets.

UGO RONDINONE: I LOVE JOHN GIORNO Keith Haring, William Burroughs and John Giorno, 1991. Courtesy of John Giorno Collection, Author Unknown. Courtesy of Nadine Johnson.

John Giorno, AIDS Treatment Project, 1993.    © Giorno Poetry Systems, Courtesy of John Giorno Archive and Nadine Johnson.

Giorno published more than 50 records, cassettes, CDs, and videos via the GPS imprint with the likes of John Cage, Patti Smith, and Keith Haring. He also used it as a platform for AIDS activism. Under the project’s umbrella, Giorno began the AIDS Treatment Project in 1984, an organization that helped raise funds to support the lives of artists suffering from the disease.

Ephemera documenting the effort, along with wall-sized prints of related poems by Giorno, paper the interior of the Hunter College Art Gallery at 205 Hudson Street. One floor-to-ceiling mural broadcasts the AIDS Treatment Project’s mission: “Treat a complete stranger as a lover, hug them as good friends, as they are or as 10 years ago you might have had fabulous sex with absolute abandon with the same stranger. Now life is ravaged and we offer love from the same root of boundless compassion.” Compassion is a consistent motif in Giorno’s work, and a quality he cultivates as a longtime student of Tibetan Buddhism. In the gallery, also on view is Giorno’s personal shrine: a shimmering structure constructed from sacred blankets, ostrich feathers, Buddha figurines, and photographs of the Buddhist lamas who’ve guided him.    

Installation view of “John Giorno and Tibetan Buddhism” at Hunter College’s 2015 Hudson Gallery, 2017. Photo by Daniel Pérez. Courtesy of Nadine Johnson.

Matthew Higgs, the director of White Columns, was drawn to the collaborative, activist bent of Giorno’s work from a young age. “There was an extraordinary philanthropy about John’s practice, where he would encourage and support other artists, other poets, and other musicians under the rubric of his larger enterprise, GPS,” he explains. “As I got to know the work more, I realized that this persistent sense of philanthropy behind his work—and the way that he brings other people and other voices into his orbit—is one of the most extraordinary and compelling things about his practice.”

For all his accomplishments, Giorno is ardently humble and routinely credits the lasting influence of his work, and the joys of his life, to chance and luck. “I was aware of the the energy of New York, in terms of poets and artists being here, from the very beginning,” he recalls. “And I had the good luck to somehow be in this place when these things were happening.”

This nuanced, multi-part exhibition tells a different story, though: one of an artist’s tireless efforts to bring his community together, and to weave art into the fabric of everyday life.

—Alexxa Gotthardt

from Artsy News

[genesiskrps-blog]

KIWI MUSIC NEWS: IDOL PROFILE SERIES !

[+ 500, -15] Wow! Jiyeon is my favorite soloist in CEL ! [+ 243,  - 5] CEL is lucky to have her, aren’t they?! [+ 225,  - 9] I can’t wait to see more of them - fighting!!

PROFILE !

FACECLAIM: im jinah CHARACTER NAME: han jiyeon STAGE NAME: n/a CHARACTER AGE: 25 COMPANY: CEL POSITION: solo (taeyeon) TIME WITH COMPANY: 12 years STRENGTHS: Perhaps even moreso than any outright talent, Jiyeon’s greatest strength lies in her experience, preparation, and ability to lead - her own career or others. Though her previous group has disbanded in dramatic fashion, there is very little that either CEL or her own internal coachings have not readied her for after over a decade of training. Calm, collected, eloquent, and dogged, when it comes to anything from choreography to accepting awards, Jiyeon never falters. Though Jiyeon’s voice should not be discounted, and is a genuine gem: originally scouted for the impressive nature of it as a young teenager, she has a talent that has always left every hard-nosed critic and teacher wanting to bottle and sell it. But while her voice may appeal to the critic, it’s her looks that appeal to the public, and that’s what matters to CEL – that the masses want to break off and take home a piece of her. WEAKNESSES: Her commitment to hard work can hinge on compulsive and unrealistic; her expectations for herself are perpetually too high, and she’s made herself sick on more than one occasion pushing her body too hard. Particularly with the stigma surrounding mental illness and medication in the country, Jiyeon’s careful managing of her OCD and anxiety over the years has grown harder. While in her younger years her anxiety was minimal, the more her obsessive-compulsive disorder demands of her, the worse her anxiety becomes. Though she is earnestly still young, even her age is a weakness in the ever-youthful industry that is KPOP. She has entirely no skill in rapping, and will try to refuse even attempting it on variety shows for the sake of embarrassment. Her variety appearances themselves are moderate but nothing exceptional; high ratings will arise simply from her name attached to any particular show, but she struggles with becoming goofy enough for many audiences.

BIOGRAPHY !

This is how you begin, like a start to a fairytale that should never be told, the ones with knights that never arrive and princesses that sheath their own hair with the tooth of the dragon keeping them.

i. she could claim a birth of immaculate conception because for all that her father is not there, it’s imaginable that jiyeon’s birth came from her mother and something she dreamed up. maybe in that story she would be a girl born from a peony mid-winter, shaking white limbs unfurling like petals - in that tale, jina might have come out fully formed, dressed in  long raven hair, singing a sweet tune to welcome herself into the world. but in this one, the one we have now, she is as raw and young as the rest of the babes that take their first breath screaming.

ii. her mother loves her enough for two, and that’s good, because some nights they survived on love alone - she parceled out pieces of her heart when there was not enough food, serving it out  on a silver platter to her only daughter and wiping her mouth when she done. when jiyeon is old enough she offers her soul in return, breaking it in half and half and half to hand back, and in this way she is also holy. this is the body and the spirit, the bread and the wine.

iii. it’s not as bad as it might seem. their house is full of laughter and love and the magic that comes from one night onlys, but in this home every night is one night for someone, so this is what jiyeon is weaned on. her mother’s business is a success because she knows how to make a home, even if it means sharing her own: so here, the young girl meets honeymooners and old lovers and older souls, and like a ritual they turn to her mother every night, drunk on good food and warmth to say: what a beautiful girl. what a serious child.

and when she plays, they say nothing at all.

(they are too busy listening).

iv. it’s starts as much a duty as anything else: changing the sheets, putting new flowers on the table, bringing breakfast in bed to the new lovers with a late checkout – and then performance. her delicate frame on the bench in the morning and at night, fingers fluttering across black and white keys like they never learned how not to fly. her voice comes with it.

like so many other things, jiyeon’s mother had been the first one to teach it to her, cupping her tiny hands beneath hers as she held her child in her lap and played melodies. jiyeon loves it, and so she sacrifices. like every great queen, she bows her head and picks up the weight of a kingdom so that her kin can have more; lessons on tuesdays and thursdays, a shining black thing sitting in the living room by next christmas.

she loves it, it’s true; jiyeon does it for herself. but she also do it for her. because even while she is young, young lady is only a term of convenience.  she was always a lady first, young only by circumstance.

v. everything happens at once. that’s the way it is with genuine surprises, the swing of one act to the next, the gate of destiny’s door vaulting open and knocking over objects in the room with its sudden wind. he’s only another customer when he comes in the door, albeit he is fixed with a soju-eyed stare and half a suit (no more, no less) that could buy and sell the roof and walls around them. a funny man, unsure of where he is before he sleeps and unhappy with the location when he awakes – he grumbles into his coffee and wears his sunglasses inside, rubbing his temples as he makes phone calls at the breakfast table.

she plays for him, like any other day.

he breaks his glasses when she start to sing. they fall right off his nose, and jiyeon stops to pick them up. she says sorry as your fingers smudge the lenses.

he only smiles.

then makes another phone call.

vi. he’s a mouthful, that’s what han jiyeon learns. he’s got a too-important job at a too-big place with too-famous people, and shae can barely get her jaw around it all. but she does, because she has always been a sensible girl, and she’s got strong bones, teeth, stomach. he brings her into the center of the room with a hand on your shoulder, ready to exchange her for her weight in gold in front of a room of god-men hidden behind their desks.

they place her on the scales, pull of the veil and open her mouth -

        and rejoice when she tips the whole thing over.

v. but they deal in the glory, she is still left to the grit and gore. in the first year, she is younger than most of the lot, and they look for a reason to hate her. they whisper about favouritism - they see the man with the half-suit and broken glasses smile at the girl with ivory-etched features and take her high head and upright chin as a sign that she hasn’t been forced to work to the marrow with them.

when that is over, she grows too beautiful for her own good. it is not her fault; none of it is. but if jiyeon were to live this life over again luckier, she would do well not to be so lovely. perhaps then he never would have seen her. men come for the girl in packs, their tails hidden up their jackets and their fangs tucked away as they try to paw at her. no one tells her beware of men, no one hands out a red cape to get through the woods unharmed, and so this is a lesson she learns the hard way, heart-first. he is the king of the country and he reaches down to pluck jiyeon from the crowd like he is a god. she thinks he might be. at the same time, they start to call her royalty, and with this man pressing to her back, she think she might just be a princess. she is ready for it, but too young for him.

everything breaks apart at the same time.

vi. it takes almost half jiyeon’s life to finally have one.

she hides her mind away and swallows her pain in the name of perfection. it makes her ache from the inside out, and she is starting to twitch.

some men mistake her beauty as consumability, and they try to lick the salt off her neck without permission.

there is more of jiyeon in this building than anyone else: she has left more behind, shed more skin and sweat, turned these rooms into walls that spit out her dna. it’s a decade of uncertainty, hard work that feels like a snake eating its own tail.

she is still young when she makes the cut for the group of the generation, the collaboration of luck and talent that brings her to the forefront of a nation, but it doesn’t feel like it.

it’s a chemical madness, what arises, though like all things chemical the brewing takes time. a year of the average, and then the spectacular bursts across the sky: beautiful multicolour fireworks: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

it’s all flash, flash, flash, cameras rolling, people screaming. the charts are topped and then toppled over. the critics are harsh and the crowds are adoring. they’re legends, these girls. they remake the music scene, but by the law of the world it remakes them also. and after years, after a meteoric rise, it comes to pass that jiyeon is the star that’s meant to post itself the highest in the night sky.

her time comes.

vii. it’s the best fucking thing she’ll ever do.