#i just think its fun if that mark is obvious ti everyone around you

[nintendont2502]

I think the alpha/beta kids + trolls should just be absolutely *covered* in scars. Like fucking head to toe - have you seen the shit they went through? You can't tell me that wouldn't leave a mark

(Also smth smth the damage from sburb (both physically and mentally) very clearly distinguishing the players as Different and Other and Damaged compared to everyone else on Earth C. Scars as a representation (and result of) trauma that a vast majority of your world could never understand)

[newbornwhumperfly]

in defense of lightening...

so, uh, i love when whumpees think they deserve to suffer and it's even more fun when whumpers think so too! 😈😈😈🥺🥺🥺 here's a silly little snippet of Morja suffering at the hands of Jorah "Self Righteous is my Middle Name" Cuthbert 😩

written for the @whumpmasinjuly prompt - day 3: "____ deserved it" - because it's glorious and delicious and fitting for my blorbos 💖

title insp. by this hanif abdurraqib quote - “in defense of lightening, there is always a darkness asking to be split open.”

~

Annoyingly, the asset is limping. 

The rec room on this stiflingly small base is stupid-small and doesn’t leave much room for hiding in corners, but Morja seems to be doing his best to stay out of everyone’s way, at least. Small blessings. But he hasn’t left the rest of present company alone, lingering by the water cooler and taking infuriating little sips of a paper cup. 

Short journeys, quiet shuffling steps, from the cooler to the corner. Cooler to corner. Jorah’s jaw tics. The soft drag of the tip of his shoe across the floor. Lift, absence of pressure, drag, tiptoe, mouse-step, take more water, scurry away. Fuck, can’t he just take the whole industrial jug at this point and leave well enough alone? 

Like a mosquito buzzing near his ear and never quite landing, Jorah just can’t ignore it. He’s lost a second round of Battleship to Pfeffer, inducing one of the guy’s booming chuckles in the wake of slipped curses. He doubts anyone else has noticed - it’s not exactly obvious. Whether the asset isn’t feeling very sulky today or else he’s too chicken-shit to fish for sympathy while Jorah is in the room, Morja is behaving himself. 

It’s not like anyone can see it either. It’s not like anyone knows why the little creep is dragging his heels around. But if the twinge of soreness in Jorah’s arm is anything to go by, Morja’s soles have gotta be smarting in the hours since last night. In the cool shadow of the corner, he leans against a wall to spare his stance.

His soles were that pre-bruise red, that deep shade right before purple Jorah knows well by eye, the welts in perfect straight lines over the arch of his thick skin. Jorah has to work for the break in the skin. Had to stop before it bled, before the lines broke altogether, even though a scream, hard to draw out as blood, broke in muffled echo through the rag between the asset’s teeth. Jorah is patient, he’s not some fucking brute who doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows when to stop. 

Knows when to reel back, gloved hand gripping the black metal ruler firmly. It’s shimmering ricochet gleams in the low-wattage, unstained by its task. God, Jorah admires military hardware. Even tools as simple as this have many uses, such as drawing out beads of sweat from the asset’s screwed-up face, rolling down into his dark hair, in making the skin of his knuckles bleach white with clenching, making those bare feet quiver and dance to the beat of Jorah’s tune, unable to fake. 

The way those thickly callused toes flinch in their tight bonds can’t be faked. 

It's different than the spasm drawn out by the jolt of electricity across his feet. Jorah's baton can always cause that. Getting the skin tender, blistered. But some days, you've gotta hit something. And the response - the jerk, the whine at the tail end of a trailing yelp, the harsh drag of breath through the nostrils - feels practiced in a way that doesn't at all discourage the conversation.

That’s the beauty of physical pain. It might not “work” for traditional interrogation but it sure does tell you a lot of other shit. Jorah checks the bonds over, the tight security of zip-ties over cloth, no grooves, no marks, good work. He watches a bead of sweat roll down the back of the asset’s calf, catching on dark hairs, a path down to land on one of the welts that match the feet. Watching the clench of his thigh when the stinging salt likely hurts like a motherfucker in the stripes across the backs of this thighs. 

Pain is a language everyone speaks fluently. The perfect fucking teacher. The highest grade in understanding. 

There’s a purpose to the shit he’s going to Morja. Mindless beating accomplishes nothing much - not unless you’ve got a lot of free reign to work with. And here, Jorah simply doesn’t, not with soft-touch attitude of everyone at hand. No. Until Claudia or Cobi or especially Brax - Captain Hutchins - sees the value of it, Jorah’s work has to stay discrete, even-handed, subtle. 

Unfortunately for this guy, he gives Jorah a lot of room to work with. 

“Never knew you beefed it so bad at Battleship, J-Man, wanna switch to Go-Fish?” 

Jorah blinks, shaking away the fucking mosquito buzz around his ear, snorts, flicks a little plastic boat at Cobi’s arm and it bounces off the skin. 

“Owwwww.” Cobi whines, his big dumb face wrinkling up as he flicks the boat back. Sticks his tongue out. “Sore loser.” 

“Grab you a soda and we’ll call it even.” Jorah drawls, drawing cheerful agreement from his friend as he stands, stalks to the nearby little fridge. Drawing out the cold cans in hand, he catches a you, uh, a fan of Go Fish, buddy, it’s cool if you join us, right, Jorah? 

Oh. Right. He’s still fucking there, huh?

Jorah straightens, glancing out of the corner of his eye, catching the asset, catching Morja, stock-still. Cobi’s head tilts back, yellow curled and shaggy, dog-like, beaming in the man’s direction like a spotlight. 

Morja’s stillness is broken by the flicker of his eyes, dark, narrowed, from Cobi to Jorah. Blink. Widen. Blank. Creepy. 

Jorah’s fingertips crack the tab of his soda, the sharp pop snapping through the air, a hiss of cool air, and Jorah’s mouth pulls up at the corners. 

Morja’s throat jumps in a swallow and those black blank eyes blink once-twice. Sways side to side on tiptoe. This close, Jorah hears a small squelch at the sway. Oh. Interesting. Putting cold water in his shoes, huh? Jorah’s eyes flick down to his feet, up again, close-lipped, and Morja blinks faster. 

“Yeah, man.” Jorah says. “You wanna sit down with me and Cobi?”

It’s almost boring the way Morja’s eyes widen. The way he lowers his weight down to rest on his swollen soles to spare his thighs the strain. It’s a little funny though. Like a dog trying its hardest not to look at you when it threw up behind the couch. 

Flick to Cobi. Back to Jorah. Back again. 

“I-“

Almost on cue, Cobi cuts in with a musical you don’t HAVE to, of course, only if you wanna. Jorah can always count on Cobi not to ruffle any feathers. And at that, Morja’s body unfreezes, doing his little at-attention routine, shoulders drawing back like a flinch of its own. 

“Thank you, sir, I have work to do.”

Right answer, Asset. 

“Hey.” Jorah shrugs. “If you have work to do, you should do it.”

There it is, that dumb fucking tilt of the head, like he doesn’t get it. Like he doesn’t know what’s expected of him. Has to be told fucking everything - what to eat, how to kneel, when to talk, where to shit, probably. Jorah’s mouth pulls at the corners again, his teeth grit and bare. Read the room. 

That sends the asset scurrying off, click-swallow-blink, the paper cup tumbling out of his hand into the garbage, squelch squelch squelch, and that awkward thorn-in-foot limp when he retreats, dragging one foot after another. 

Jorah’s body relaxes all at once, shoulders dropping down, rolling his neck. Fuck, corralling people in line is hard work. Whatever, a sheepdog is thankless sometimes. Still. It’s a nice thought that this idiot runs off with his tail between his legs, with wet shoes and a dry tongue, unable to sit or stand. 

Setting the sodas on the table with a wide grin, Jorah lounges back for the first time, guard settled, plucking a new little ship between his fingers. 

“Fuck Go-Fish, bro, I’m stretched and hydrated now, your fleets gonna sink.”

Cobi’s face beams and then frowns a little, glancing back towards the exit, the crinkle in his face making Jorah’s stomach sour again. “Man…I hope Morja didn’t feel left out. I don’t want him to be lonely.”

Jorah flicks another ship at Cobi, drawing another sqwuak. His shoulders are down flat now, hackles soothed. The mosquito has fucked off and the room is cool and calm again.

“Aw, big softie. Get your head in the game or I’m gonna sink your battleship. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

He deserves it. 

~ 

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @whump-tr0pes @haro-whumps @whumpthisway

@whumping-every-day @stoic-whumpee @whumpzone @straight-to-the-pain @redwingedwhump

@wolfeyedwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @liliability @whumpster-draganies @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whatgoeswhumpinthenight

@tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @scoundrelwithboba

I hope you enjoyed this little snippet cause i was so so excited to write something new again!! 🥰🥰🥰 have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly 💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to a Courier with the Eye for Eye perk just walking around with half their limbs broken because the pain is literally making them stronger.

TW: Blood, gore

The courier was nowhere to be found when their companion awoke beneath the soft firelight of the Dead Horses' torches and the bright eyes of the man who led them.

"I believe they've left us for the evening," the Burned Man said in his usual aloof tone, even as he reclined behind his workbench in Angel Cave. "I've never walked the path of a courier, but I imagine it transfers a certain restlessness to an individual. Staying in one place loses some of its charm. Your particular courier, however, lets that instinct drive them to the point of being foolhardy."

As if to prove Joshua Graham's speculation correct, the courier staggered into the cave, their clothes torn and bloodied. Despite sporting an obvious limp, an arm curled protectively against their chest and deep claw marks all over their face, they were shouldering a yao guai's severed head alongside their full traveling pack and wearing a wild smile.

Arcade Gannon: "God dammit." Arcade disentangled himself from his bed roll and rushed to the courier's side, ignoring Graham's obvious disapproval at his taking the Lord's name in vain. "I told you not to run off into the canyon without packing extra stimpaks. Here, let me-"

The courier stopped his fumbling hands with both of theirs. Arcade looked down in shock at the broken arm that was firmly grasping his fingers, then up into their frenzied eyes. "Six, you need-"

"I don't." The courier spat some blood out onto the dirt floor of the cave. "I don't. The Sorrows... White Bird..."

Arcade mentally cursed the tribe up the river, then just as quickly withdrew the malevolent thoughts. It wasn't their fault the courier went looking for injuries. "Datura root? Okay, sit down, over there. Take a load off."

The courier limped over to the chair Joshua Graham was offering. They sank into it with a sigh and let the yao guai head fall to the floor, where it began to bleed onto their boots. "Thanks," they said. "I should-"

Arcade stuck them in the arm with the stimpak he kept concealed for these occasions, and they screeched, loud enough to cause even the Malpais Legate to jump. "Fucking hell, Arcade! Not again!"

Craig Boone: Boone jumped to his feet. "I can't be your spotter if you keep leaving me behind, Six. Tell me you haven't been using that junk again."

In answer, the courier pulled an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle rigged with a hose and tin foil from inside their pack and tossed it aside. "Last dose, I swear. Not that it helped much in close quarters."

They lifted the yao guai head high over their own, striking a victorious pose. "Shouldn't bother the Dead Horses or the Sorrows again, unless there really is a ghost out there."

Boone and Graham stared at the courier, particularly at their bent arm. "You require medical attention," Graham pointed out. "Shall I fetch the shaman?"

"No thank you." The courier made a face and heaved the animal's head across the room. It flew through the air in a nice arc, bounced twice, then rolled to a stop at the Burned Man's feet.

"Six..." Boone said testily.

The courier groaned, familiar with the serious tone. "Fine. But I've had worse scrapes, and you know it."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily shrieked and rushed to the courier's side. Her hands flew up and around them, but every time she attempted to touch them she recoiled out of fear of causing pain. "Pumpkin, you need to see a doctor."

"We've been over this, Lily," the courier replied, attempting to skirt around the nightkin that blocked their way. "It hurts, but I work through it, and I always come out on top of whatever caused it."

"Sweetness, you're bleeding." Lily finally located a portion of the courier that wasn't in danger of extra bruising and took hold of them, sweeping them up into a gentle fireman's carry. "We'll go visit that nice Waking Cloud lady and get you fixed up."

"Lily, put me down!" The courier squirmed atop the super mutant. To the surprise of everyone involved, they managed to unbalance her enough to send both of them tumbling to the cave floor.

Joshua Graham looked down at the courier, who was wrestling for control of their leg in order to escape Lily's grasp. "God protect you," he said, but it wasn't clear who he was speaking to.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Mij@." Raul approached the courier carefully, trying to locate all of their new bumps and scrapes. He was more than familiar with their latest attempts to prove their own strength, but it pained him to see them like this. Still, he knew better than to try to force medicine into them, now. "Estoy aquí para ti. Can I help?"

They tensed for a moment, as he'd expected, but a few more soothing words sent their shoulders back down. "Sí. I'm... I'm tired."

Ignoring the Burned Man's protests, Raul claimed the room's chair and carried it over to them. They eased into it, wincing slightly but still clinging to their belongings. Raul convinced them to hand their weapons, pack and bear head over one by one, all the while assuring them that he meant no harm, no offense, no judgment.

"You can't keep doing this, Six," he said, when they finally let him inspect their broken arm. He could see the bone under the skin, out of place in an obvious way that would've had him laid up in bed for weeks.

"I can handle-"

"I know you can." Raul fixed them in his gaze. "I can't."

They smiled sadly. "Lo siento. I'll try to be more careful."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass rolled her eyes. "Figures. Waited until I was asleep, then you ran off to have all the fun on your lonesome. Let's get you cleaned up, Six."

She lunged for the courier, but despite their precarious state they managed to dodge her. "Uh-uh. I'm invincible. You're gonna ruin it."

"Invincible?" Cass dashed to block their escape. "Sure, you can probably still kick my ass, but you sure as hell can't outrun me."

"Might the pair of you take this little game outside," Graham grumbled from his seat.

"Shut it, Burnt Man," Cass shot back.

The courier couldn't help but giggle at that. "Burned. Burned Man."

"Oh, you're gonna give me grammar lessons?" Cass lunged again and managed to seize a handful of the courier's tattered coat. "Give them to me up close. I dare you."

In response, the courier grabbed Cass' arm with their broken one and easily flung her around them in a circle, until she went somersaulting away onto the ground. "There's lesson one."

Cass sat up and jammed her hat back on her head. "Fine. Damn."

Veronica Santangelo: "How are you walking?!?" Veronica stared, open-mouthed, at the bloody figure in the cave entrance.

The courier shrugged, then winced at their own movement. "Does it matter? I'm alive."

"Yeah, but life won't be much of a comfort if you don't get some of those fractures set right." Veronica rose from her bed roll and approached them carefully. Her eyes flickered from wound to wound, and she tutted as she drew back the loose pieces of fabric that the yao guai had ripped to shreds. "Get over here and make yourself useful, Graham. Six, you probably shouldn't be awake when I start putting you back together."

They withdrew their limp arm from her grasp firmly. "Leave it be. It gave me the energy I needed to finish the thing off."

"Adrenaline will do that," Veronica agreed. "But its shelf life is short. Pretty soon you're going to be wishing that bear took your head off. Graham, I meant what I said, go find me some boiled water and bandages or I'll personally deliver your location to Caesar myself."

"Caesar is well aware of my current whereabouts," Graham replied evenly. "You would do well to listen to the Scribe, courier."

"Both of you?" The courier deflated. "Fine. Just get me a drink before you start moving bones around."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped in an alarmed manner as the courier swayed on their feet. It swiveled its dome between the injured friend and the bandaged man, who caught the movement and shook his head. "While you were updating your programming, your master was testing the limits of their own abilities, robot. It is not my place to interfere."

ED-E made a flat blaaaaat sound at him that sounded scornful, and floated over to the courier's side. The courier laughed. "Don't worry about me, little guy. It takes more than one yao guai to ruin my day."

Rex: The scent of the yao guai's and the courier's blood filled Rex's nostrils, and he rose from his sleeping hollow with a whine, unsure. When the courier beckoned him, he trotted over and began licking their visible wounds, sparing a growl here and there for the yao guai head that hung on their back.

Graham regarded the cyberdog with something akin to affection. "He senses your pain, courier. You would do well to set him at ease."

"He's seen me closer to death than this," they replied, scratching the dog behind the ears with their good arm. "And if the White Legs hear about the courier who walks through broken bones, maybe they'll think twice about attacking the people I'm friends with."

[weelittleweasley]

bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @vogueweasley​

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits. 

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice. 

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache. 

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?” 

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.  

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you. 

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble. 

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone. 

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth. 

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone. 

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped. 

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub. 

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?” 

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush. 

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you. 

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to. 

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. 

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?” 

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk. 

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea. 

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss. 

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his. 

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?” 

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven’t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

[dingdonghyvck]

Still Into You || Lee Haechan x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that Haechan’s not into you.

Genre: Angst

Pairing/s: Drummer!Haechan x Lead Vocalist!Reader, Minor College Student!Mark x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive, mentions of sex and a few sex jokes, alcohol and cigarettes, cheating, manipulation of feelings, angst, and a few others I probably forgot to mention.

Word Count: 4.9k-ish

So I’ve been seeing a lot of Haechan drummer au’s on TikTok, so I thought fuck it and made one! I hope you like it :)

You can read Part two here: The Only Exception

“Can't count the years on one hand that we've been together,

I need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better.”

Donghyuck's pretty sure that you're the only person from high school that he still bothers to be around, it's been approximately 9 years since the day you two met. 9 years since the day he awkwardly sat next to you in seventh grade, 9 years since the day you drew dick doodles in his notebook as a form of icebreaker since you didn't know any other way of talking to him. It was safe to say that he was more than surprised to see flying dick doodles in his spiral notebook when he got back to class after lunch, still he was somehow amused by the scribbles and the little message you left him introducing yourself.

He immediately talked to you the moment you came  back inside the classroom with your earphones in. He still remembers it so clearly, the way you offered him the left piece of your earphones so you two can listen to music in secret, the teacher had already arrived and you two didn't have enough time to speak to each other. Donghyuck would say it was fate, others would say paramore's just too mainstream, but he didn't care. A cute girl liked the same bands as him, so he made it his goal to get closer to you.

And so you two bonded over music, something you both loved with your whole heart and soul. It was through countless concerts and after-school trips to the record store that got you closer and soon enough you two started messing with GarageBand, creating a few silly songs that were the epitome of teen angst, it was always in good fun. But Donghyuck suddenly came to you with a brilliant proposal one calm afternoon when you were hanging out his room.

"So there's like a battle of the bands at school every year... You sing right? Do you feel like making a band?"

"Yeah, sure..." You had shrugged mindlessly while painting his pinky finger black, mind a bit pre-occupied with what was happening back at home. But Donghyuck takes no notice from this, it was a simple reply but he didn't bother to press further, he could just rally up a few of his friends to start up this band, and if you ever do complain he can also scream blasphemy in your face. Plus he was enjoying the calm atmosphere, so he didn't want to ask any more questions. Well it was as calming as it could get since All Time Low was blasting through his bedroom's speakers, volume maxed out to the point it could make anyone’s ears bleed.

It took him quite a while to fill in missing band mates since you two weren't the most liked people at school, but eventually after a few persuasive talks over milkshakes you two have built a band by the end of February, a little too late for the battle of the bands event. But you all decided that it would be fun to congregate as the band geeks instead of going back to being the outcasts of the school. So practices were held in your basement everyday, you insisted on it since you were trying to spite your parents as much as you could, you hated your life at home, but you could bear the presence of your family if you had some friends around.

Skip a few years and here you are again as "The Innocents"—you honestly don't know why you agreed to the stupid band name, but you lacked the creativity and energy to argue with a caffeinated Donghyuck at 4 am when he had proposed it to the group chat. Although Hendery had complained fifteen times before practice that day, everyone still ended up in your basement, practicing for the annual battle of that bands event your school held, a final hurrah before ending high school.

Donghyuck loved playing the drums, he was drawn to the instrument since a young age so he did he have a natural sense of beat and rhythm. But what he liked the most was the view he got from the back. Not only could he watch the whole band work around the stage, he also had the best view of you. He enjoyed watching you jump around, how you would sometimes lick the side of Jeno’s face whenever you felt a bit mischievous, the way you would laugh at the middle finger he'd throw at you, the way you'd practically lay yourself down the center of the stage as you sang your heart out.

You naturally had the talent, that much was certain. Donghyuck always felt entranced whenever you took on the stage bravely, being the frontman was of course the most challenging position of all. But the way you handled the spotlight made it look so easy, as if you were made to be holding a mic since birth. It was as if you were dancing your own symphony and the rest of the band was nothing but a harmony struggling to follow through since your energy was too overwhelming at times.

But somehow you always made it work, no matter how much your band mates hated it, there was always something unique about the way you presented yourself onstage, demanding the audience's attention. No one was brave enough to even try being in your position, so they had let you bask in the limelight for the most part. But there was particular day you seemed different, as if you had been tuned down. There was something wrong and it was obvious enough to everyone that Jeno had to make up an excuse to leave early with Hendery. They had left abruptly to let you talk it out with Donghyuck, since well, he's your best friend.

Little did they know that you two have been casually fucking for the past year since the time Donghyuck confessed his feelings for you. You haven't given the relationship between you two a label since you weren’t really one to be tied down, but he was glad enough to be even be able to hold you.

You reveal to him that your parents were about to get a divorce, and as much as a shock it was to receive this news, what shocked him more was the moment you sat on his lap. You two were still situated in front of the drum set, but Donghyuck didn't seem to mind. So he helps you take your seat, arms wrapping around your waist as your fingers find its way onto the little hairs at the back of his neck, Donghyuck gulps when he sees you bring out a stick of cigarette.

"What? I'm stressed," You smiled wearily as you lit the cigarette. You take a sharp inhale before blowing the smoke to his face, he scrunches his nose.

"Are you sure you're okay? divorces can be-"

You cut him off by placing the lit cigarette to his lips, the tiny smirk on your face made him frown. You raised an eyebrow at him while you waited, you really didn't feel like talking about your parents, so you evaded it the the same way you'd usually evade him whenever he brought up anything about feelings. He paused for a moment to look at you before inhaling from the cigarette, immediately coughing afterwards. His eyes a little teary as he muttered a small "jesus christ”, you giggled before taking his face into your hands. You push back a few strands of hair as you admired his forehead, he had done nothing but stare back at you.

"Don't tell me you'll leave me too" you whispered as you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

Donghyuck lets out the breath he was holding, gently caressing your backside as he chuckled, finally relaxing into your arms. He knew that it was wrong for you two to not speak about your personal lives that much, since it was pretty obvious you were having troubles at home. But he knew how much you hated to feel feelings, so he never overstepped boundaries. He lets you be for the most part, except for times he reminded you that it’s okay to open up to him. You were always quick dismiss him, telling him you were a big girl and you didn't want to bother or burden him. As much as he'd like to keep insisting, he'd rather just leave you be.

"If I say I love you will you stay forever?" you mumbled as you kissed the mole on his neck, smudging a bit of lipstick on his sun-kissed skin.

Donghyuck felt his heart drop to his stomach,  taking your face into his large palms, caging you into his gaze to see if you were joking, or if you had any doubts behind your gaze. but he was met with the softest gaze he's ever seen on you. Your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks, the little black heart you drew in this morning was smudged to a dot on your pretty face. And a few might say you looked like a mess as tears rimmed your eyes, donghyuck could only think about how much he wanted to kiss you.

"You'll always have me" he whispered, bringing your face towards his. It felt hot, too hot that his skin actually felt like burning the moment your hands touched his backside under his shirt. the kiss was passionate, filled with so much heat and lust that it felt dangerous, he was seconds away from being burned alive; but you suddenly pulled away.

"I love you," you whispered against his mouth, lips brushing past each other as each syllable left your mouth. Your nose gently touched his as you breathed him in, gripping onto his biceps as best as you can, desperate in needing to feel him against you.

Donghyuck does not reply, he simply brings your lips back to his. And as much as he wanted to be more gentle, to take his time with you and make you feel how much he worshipped your body, but your passion burnt too hot that he couldn't smother it. He lets it consume him, his whole being as he loses himself in you, too consumed by your flare and embers to notice how he was slowly burning himself out, that he himself was going to be smothered by you.

“It's not a walk in the park to love each other.                                      

But when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny, you're the worth it.”

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this!?" you screamed, eyes reddening from stress as you pulled at your hair, hard enough to rip a few strands out.

"Johnny's just a fucking friend!" you continued, about to leave the room to run away but he cages you against the wall, hands gripping your shoulders harshly, he was bound to leave marks.

"Baby i'm pretty sure friends don't suck each other off in restaurant bathrooms" he snarled, his voice masked with so much venom that if it were a different person they would be quivering with their knees buckling, but you were different, so you stood your ground.

"I already said I love you what do you fucking want from me?" you laughed coldly, crossing your arms against your chest.

"Love... I'm your boyfriend, I don't know how fucked up your brain is, but don’t tell me you don't know what a boyfriend is." he groans in annoyance, pushing himself away from you. The fighting had been so frequent that you two would be at each other's throats more often than not. The added stress from university and his side jobs was finally ticking him off, he was at his breaking point and he didn't know how long he could still be with you when you were blatantly cheating on him.

"Let's break up then." you muttered, looking down at your feet.

"Fine." He mumbled in defeat, taking a seat on the couch. He buries his face into his palms, trying his best to calm down while his breathing increased. He didn't realized what he had agreed to until he heard his door slam shut. That was the moment he knew he made a mistake, he had let you go too easily. You on the other hand, couldn't help but be the happiest you've been the whole week, finally free. And while Donghyuck was left to try and fix what was left between the two of you, you were out to get coffee, living freely as if nothing had happened.

“Cause after all this time                                         

I'm still into you...”

You sang with the tiniest smile, hiding behind your bangs as you tried your best to jump around the stage and keep eye contact with the blonde male sat front row. It's been 8 months since you and donghyuck broke up and yet you've already found a new boy, some dude you accidentally spilled coffee on. Some random dude who asked for your number and you easily said yes, some random dude that caught your eye. Although it's been months since the breakup, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel bitter; you had broken his world in half and somehow you still looked fine.

A normal person would walk away. A normal person would leave you and realize how toxic and dangerous you were to the people around you, how you pushed everyone away the second they get too close. But somehow Donghyuck was different, he doesn't know why or how he's doing it, but he sticks by your side. Agreeing to still be in the band and staying as friends, since of course we all fuck our best friends once in our lives right? But like the dumb lapdog he was, he accepted your apology at 12 am in the morning when you showed up drunk at his doorstep. Maybe it was the side of him desperately clinging onto you, looking for some sort of closure or any sign of you regretting the breakup, but months had passed and the days seemed normal for you.

He knew how wrong it was, don't mistake him for someone who's stupid enough to let a girl trample over his heart. He somehow just couldn’t keep away, you had broken him to the point that he didn't want anyone else unless it was you. It really was all so stupid in retrospect. He's handsome, irresistible, and incredibly hot so he could easily grab anyone he wanted but somehow he always ends up pining after you.

No matter how many girls and guys he sees he always ends up in the exact same spot, in the back, sat on his drum set to watch you jump around and light up the stage. But this time you brought a whole different aura, it was his first time seeing you shy. Was it that random Mark guy you started seeing? It's not likely that you'd let the guy stick around, you hated being tied down.  Yet Donghyuck feared this was different, since well, you really seemed off this week since you met Mark.

You don’t even show up at his place shit-faced at 3am every weekend anymore. You even attended some of your classes because Mark would be in them. You smoked less and it seemed like you were finally getting your life together. Did this stranger have that kind of effect on you? Nevertheless Donghyuck could feel the anger bubble in his stomach as he hams up his drumming, annoyed and frustrated at how hard you were to read. he didn't notice that he had been banging at the drums so loud that it muffled out your singing, confusing both Jeno and Hendery who were eyeing him from the sidelines. This continues until the end of the song, but you didn't seem to mind since you decided to ignore it, busy staring at Mark as he smiled shyly at you, raising his glass as you continued to sing your heart out.

“I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you.      

And even baby our worst nights I’m into you, I'm into you.”

After the last set, you were gulping down the beer Jeno handed you, messily wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you looked for a blonde college boy in the crowd. It wasn't long until you're met with the cutest smiles, his shy eyes hiding behind his glasses as he complemented how great you were, it was his first time watching you sing.

"I wasn't that bad was I?" you asked, giggling playfully, you placed the empty bottle on the counter behind him.

"You were great! the best even," he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you, his scent engulfed you. You gladly tucked yourself into his arm, you fitted perfectly.

"Mhmm? Then why can't you look me in the face?" you challenged, laughing at the way Mark coughed up his drink from embarrassment.

"Well I don't usually see you dressed up.... like this" he mumbled shyly, of course he hasn't. What you were wearing wasn't necessarily your Sunday's best. You’re pretty sure Mark's father, who's a pastor, wouldn't be too happy to see you showing up for a family dinner in a lace crop top and ripped skinny jeans.

"It's how I usually dress for the gigs, it's not ugly is it...?" you pouted, and as much as you hated acting cute, you loved watching Mark squirm.

Mark wasn't even able to reply when your band mates' presence was made known by  Hendery who ordered everything available in the bar. You couldn't help but giggle while watching your friend drink shot after shot, he offered you some but you declined since you didn't want to get shit-faced in front of Mark, you were better than that. You knew he was totally out of your league, being the perfect christian college boy studying english literature, he's probably the type who'll marry a pretty trophy wife that will give him three beautiful kids. You didn't even know why Mark gave you a chance, you were practically trash on the side of the road compared to him.You were struggling enough to get by with the gigs and college funds, but he doesn’t seem to mind when you would come up empty-handed during dates, he would gladly spoil you— so consider yourself lucky.

"Hyuck you're not looking too hot" Jeno says it while checking the drummer’s temperature, the brunette simply pushed his hand away, trying his best to avoid your gaze.

"I'm fine" he rolled his eyes, opening a few buttons of his silk shirt, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies near the bar.

"What do you mean? Hyuck's hot as fuck!" Hendery shouted, most probably drunk. Jeno tries to pull the shot glass away but it only ends up spilling all over the counter, Mark scrunches his nose in disgust.

"Wouldn't you know?" Hendery continued pointing towards you, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Mark's arm drop from your shoulder, you suddenly freeze from his comment.

"Yeah wouldn't you know sunflower?" Donghyuck smirked, eyes meeting with those of Mark's who looked uncomfortable. You tried shooting him a glare, telling him to stop ruining your night, you wanted to finally shoot your shot with Mark. The blonde made you feel different, he made you feel stable and safe, it’s been a long time since you last felt this way. You didn’t even know you were still capable of developing feelings and you haven't felt this way towards anyone so you really didn't want to mess it up. But to your anguish, Mark's curiosity got the better of him.

"Oh yo wait, so you two... were a thing?" Mark coughed awkwardly, his hand going to grip your waist which made you perk up.

"Yeah we've known each other for quite... some time, so it's natural that we've tried stuff" Donghyuck shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the way he's balling up his fists.

"Yeah but that was like a decade ago, we don't really-"

"Pretty sure 8 months isn't a decade long love" Donghyuck raised his eyebrow, a little smirk makes his way as he sees Mark's grip on your waist falter.

"So do you two still...?"

"No! No, never again... Why would I when I already have you?" you immediately cut Mark off, he's startled by your reply but he still smiles at you, not as bright as the ones he'd shoot you when were onstage. There was a long awkward pause but thankfully Mark speaks up.

"Well! I have like four essays due tomorrow, so I'm gonna have to head out. Want me to drive you home?" he offers, and you were about to accept but you saw Donghyuck raising an eyebrow at you so you stop yourself.

"I would but... We still have a second set, I... I'll call you" you said worried that he'd be turned off with the idea that you had slept with your best friend who you're still friends with by the way, but he simply shook his head as if he was telling you to not worry about it. He kisses your forehead gently before saying goodbye to the rest of the boys. You watch his retreating figure but you weren't able to see him exit the club's doors because it's not long before you feel a strong grip on your left wrist and you're being dragged to somewhere.

“Let 'em wonder how we got this far,

'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all.”

Donghyuck leads you to the club's dirty bathroom, lowly lit with the purple and pink lights. He locks the door behind him but the vibrations of the club's speakers pounded against the door, it was still just as deafening as it was outside. Donghyuck stares at your face for a moment, thinking of what words to say. He watched the way you pursed your lips, you probably were thinking the same, so he beats you to speaking.

"Second set? I'm pretty sure we're done for the night sweetheart-" Donghyuck's stopped mid sentence by your hand coming across his face with a harsh slap, he smiles sadistically when he looks up at you.

"Yeah there's no second set but I had to tell you this" you said, eyes lit with a fire he's never seen before.

"Don't. Ruin. Mark. For. Me." you spat as you pushed him with your finger, backing him up against the club's door. His smirk finally falters, he looked just as confused and annoyed the day you two broke up.

"What? Everything I said was true, doesn't he deserve to know? Let him wonder how we got this far... If he ever doubts your feelings for him, then he doesn't deserve you"

You think about how it's actually the other way around, because for the first time in your life, you're finally making a change for the better. Since your abusive past and your parents' divorce you had always been problematic. Rebelling against your mother since she had refused to accept to support your band. You lived buck-wild, mostly relying on Donghyuck for sustenance. You thought your hate for the people around you was reasonable because of your parents, so you closed off everyone, including Donghyuck. You rebelled and used people as much as you liked, you thought it was only fair you'd reciprocate the hurt the world had given you. But after meeting Mark, it felt like a breath of fresh air, he made you feel alive, like you still had a chance to do the right thing.

"I just don't want to ruin things with him, he's... different" You whispered softly, gripping his silk button-up. Donghyuck laughs cold at this, switching your positions so that you were the one with your back against the door, he cages you against it, making you feel small as he traced your jawline.

"What? are you into virgin college boys now? do they turn you on that much?" he chuckled wickedly, his eyes stared deeply into your own.

"We both know you're never capable of love princess, you like playing with feelings. Because in the end, I know you'll end up breaking this boy's poor heart because that's who you are..." his voice ends up becoming a whisper in the end, his lips inching closer to yours, and without knowing it he presses his lips against yours.

To your shock, you kiss him back for a few seconds but realize what you were doing. You pushed him away to slap him again, he holds your palm in his hand, he harshly holds your wrist against the door. You try to wriggle free from his grip but you stopped when you looked at his face. He had his forehead against yours, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes were closed but you could hear his sniffling as he tried to collect himself. It was now that you finally realize how much you had hurt him. You didn't know that he was this affected by your break up since he had easily agreed to it. You were also blinded by your selfishness, your anger towards the world that you didn't know you were already hurting someone so important to you.

So you soften up, remembering that this broken guy who stood before you was still your best friend. Your best friend who stayed with you when you were at your worse, your best friend who loved you unconditionally even if you drove everyone away.

"That's exactly who you are, you're a heartless monster." he cried, you silently agreed with him but you kept your mouth shut, willing to listen to him finally tell you his feelings. You have been an asshole for most of your life, and you knew it, so you thought this was the least you could do for him. You didn't think much of Donghyuck’s feelings in the past, so it was only hitting you now, he had truly loved you. Even if you were the most flawed person. Even if you were the sad little girl who was too scared of the world, the little girl who believed that everyone was out to get her. He had loved you fully, through and through, even if you had intentionally cheated on him.

"I'm sorry" you whisper, finally realizing how cruel you were these past years. You hated yourself, you truly did. You hate yourself for playing with his feelings, for leading him on when you didn't really have feelings for him back then. You used him for your enjoyment not thinking of his emotions, you used him as an escape from your reality, your troubled past. You truly were a monster and it was finally made clear to you.

"Then take me back," he whispered, he sounded so broken that it took a while for you to register what he said. You didn't reply and he looks up to meet your gaze and your heart breaks.  

"After all this time, I'm still so into you, so please... just give me a chance to be yours again" he begged, you knew he was ready to beg on his knees if it weren't for your current position, you could feel the shiver run down your back because of guilt.

"Donghyuck." you sighed as you took his face into your palms, you look into his eyes and you could see the glimmer of hope behind them, hoping that  you were about to say yes to his offer, but to his disappointed you only caused more heartbreak.

"I really really like Mark... and you were probably right, I'm so fucked in the brain that I didn't even think of your feelings back then. Of how real your emotions were for me, I thought we were just casual, but it seems like you really..." you trail off thinking of the right words to say

"loved me. I'm so sorry for being a fucking asshole, I have no excuses. Being hurt by my parents gives me no reason to hurt you back, so you don't have to accept my apology, I don't deserve it... But I’m doing what I think is best for us right now, I'm kicking you out of the band"

Donghyuck's eyes widened at this, his hands desperately clasping onto yours as he tried to bring his lips back to yours. He didn't know why he was trying to kiss you, probably it was because of the alcohol in his system, or most likely desperation. But all he knew he wasn't ready to let go, to say goodbye to you just yet, so he tried grasping for any piece of you he could as you removed his desperate hands from your body, both of you crying as you tried to push him away for good.

"What do you mean? why do you keep pushing me away like this?" he cries out as he hugs you, you pat his back.

"Because this is wrong, and it's time for you to be happy." you freed yourself from his weak grip, he tried to fight back but you insisted, it finally hit him that this was inevitable, it was finally time for you to say goodbye.

"Thank you for everything" you whispered, and with a final slip of his grasp you were gone. You had opened the door and left him in the bathroom, broken and lost.

“Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you.”

Part 2

[theonceandfutureking6481]

BBC's Merlin Season 1 Episode 3: The Mark of Nimue Analysis

*SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE SHOW*

First off I always look fondly on this episode, mainly for Morgana being hilarious and epic, I mean she has the best line in the whole episode:

Arthur: You could get hurt

Morgana: So could you.... if you don't get out of my way

This episode is also fun and interesting from the perspectives of plot, characters and themes. Sorry, this is extremely long, I have a lot of opinions about Merlin.

Gwen and Merlin

This episode is in many ways about Gwen and Merlin's friendship, it is the driving force behind all of Merlin's actions within this episode and is the stepping stone for this show considering how to find a balance between acting for the greater good without suggesting that the ends justify the means.

Merlin and Gwen are first off just very sweet, their friendship is really characteristic of this show's representation of friendship overall, just genuine love and consideration for others. It is also self-sacrificing, that's one thing about the relationships in this show they are so self-sacrificing.

When Merlin says to Gwen "I didn't like to see you upset." It reveals a wonderful fact of Merlin's characterisation that I would argue stays consistent for the whole show. His motivation is always grounded in how much he cares for the people around him. He cares deeply about his friends and they are largely his reason for doing the things he does. This line is a wonderful parallel to in season 3 when Merlin decides to let Morgana die (after he accidentally trips her down the stairs), but then in the end he heals her because he couldn't watch everyone's grief. Merlin cannot separate his actions from the people he's doing them for, and he can't stand to see people hurt when he has the power to fix it because the people he loves are his motivation, they are the reason he wants a better world. This show does establish (as I'll discuss further down) that what seems immediately right (healing Gwen's father etc) isn't necessarily the right decision to make for the greater good. This is some ways always questions the validity of Merlin's motivations and his actions, but I'd argue it more seeks to find a balance. Besides a Merlin who didn't act motivated by his love for others is not a Merlin that could have helped Arthur build Camelot.

Medievalism: duty and social obligation

Quick disclaimer cause I'm touching on a more scholarly issue here that I have limited knowledge of, so I will undoubtedly make mistakes and this is my opinion. Everything I write is my opinion, but that's more obvious when I'm commenting on the themes of a fictional world rather than making a comment on actual fields of study which is what I'm doing here.

BBC's Merlin is an example of medievalism, it is an engagement with the medieval era (or ideas/images associated with it) for modern times. I honestly don't know that much about medievalism, or the medieval era, certainly not enough to make an extensive commentary on its representation in Merlin. One thing I would argue is that Merlin's representation of friendship has its roots in idealised views of the virtues of the medieval era. For many people the Middle Ages represents a time of duty and social obligation, this on one hand does lead to a stringent class divide but it also finds its idealisation in the sort of friendship represented by Merlin. The premise in most societies that place great value on social obligation is that the needs of the community outweigh the needs of the individual, that people should sacrifice themselves for the community as a whole. Every society places emphasis on this in different ways and to greater or lesser extents and our view of it as being prevalent in the medieval era is largely an idealisation based in some historical reality but also our own desires about what this era represents. There is a kind of social responsibility in the relationships in Merlin, there is a great emphasis on loyalty which is part of this idealisation. However, Merlin makes it more personal than is often depicted. We idealise social responsibility and obligation, it is often tied into the social roles of people such as loyalty to a king, or paying back debts of honour which is a form of social obligation. Merlin is more about friendship, it takes our idealisation of medieval social obligation and makes it the obligation and loyalty we owe to people who love us and who we love. I will always say that fundamentally Merlin as a show is about love, and it emphasises what we owe to people in our lives in a way I believe echoes idealisation of medieval loyalty.

This idea can also be seen in Arthur's fundamental trust of others, his fundamental assumption that everyone around him is not seeking to harm him, and that people are generally good. This ties a bit into the idea of social obligation. Arthur's idealised world is one in which people have bonds of social obligation towards each other, that people are seeking to act in the interests of the community. It's an idealisation, both of the medieval era but also an idealisation in Arthur's own head of the world he lives in.

Morgana and Gwen

Their relationship is somewhat expanded on in this episode, and they are just so sweet. Gwen gives Morgana flowers to cheer her up and its just lovely. They have a very genuine and close relationship. Morgana also has great respect for Gwen, for the work she does, and she treats her with respect.

Morgana: "If she was a sorceress, why would she kneel on the cold stone floor every morning if she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers, like an idle king."

Aside from being one of Morgana's many quality burns towards Uther, this also illustrates one of her greatest characteristics, her empathy and genuine respect and admiration for what Gwen does everyday. She doesn't see the class divide in the same way Uther sees it or Arthur pretends to see it.

Also interesting note I heard in a Merlin podcast (I can't remember which episode), it could have been the episode about this episode. It's called Destiny and Chicken (you can listen to it on Spotify and anywhere else you find podcasts- they even did an interview of Bradley James who plays Arthur at one point), and its very good. But, they said something interesting about the paralleling between the relationship between Merlin and Arthur and the relationship between Morgana and Gwen. Both are fundamentally important and genuinely caring relationships for the character. However, for Morgana and Gwen (unlike Merlin and Arthur) the class divide remains much more in place, Gwen treats Morgana like her friend but she also treats her like her mistress in a way Merlin just doesn't with Arthur (especially not so early in the show when he's not so admiring of Arthur). This isn't to say their relationship is bad or has problems, its just different whilst still acting as a parallel. I'm not sure exactly the extent to which I agree or what this says overall in themes but its definitely interesting to think about.

Uther: "A Good and Terrible King."

This episode shows Uther at both his best and his worst which is always fun because Uther is a genuinely interesting character. I got the line from my favourite Merlin fanfiction Coronation by rageprufrock, which you should definitely read, I'll link it down the bottom, it's not too long so you can read it in half an hour. It's a character study of Arthur more than anything else and its amazing, wonderful and deeply poetic. Uther is not a huge part of this fanfic, its about Arthur's character and his relationship with Merlin and his kingdom, I'm not even sure he actually appears. This line though perfectly tapped into how I always felt about Uther so it connected:

"He's been a good and terrible father, a good and terrible king."

I often think in characterising Uther we do tend to villainise him to an extent which I personally don't find accurate. This is obviously just my opinion, and I have a tendency to think the best of people so more intensely negative views of Uther are very jarring for me. He did terrible things and I truly believe he is the ultimate villain of the show but he is very human and he could be a good king and he loved his children more than anything else. We cheapen Merlin's point if we cast Uther as pure evil, everyone is capable of evil just as much as goodness. Uther is the tragedy (like Morgana) of a person who could have been good or at least halfway decent corrupted and destroyed by his own hate and ignorance. That's the point of the parallels between Uther and Morgana, we love Morgana and she was capable of so much good, but she corrupted herself with hate.

Onto this episode, Uther shows both his capability and goodness as a king in this episode as well as his hatred and ignorance. Uther's initial reaction to the fact that the plague is caused by magic is a concern about his own authority, which isn't entirely unfounded, but does reveal a huge priority of his which is control. He fears not being able to control, that's were his cruelty as a father comes from and to some extent his opposition to magic. This does not show Uther in the best light, but his actions later in regards to dealing with the plague show a decent king who cares about his people. This scene in which he tells Arthur to shut off the lower town perfectly illustrates this:

Arthur: But what about the people who live there

Uther: Don't you think I haven't considered it? What else can I do? I have to protect the rest of the city

In this situation Uther is right, there is very little other choice, he's making a hard call but it's one he has to make, and he seems genuinely distressed at having to make it. He does care about his people's well being, and he feels the burden of their protection, he can be a good King. Much of Arthur's story is in breaking away from the legacy of Uther, and rightly so, but Uther also taught him many things and one of those things is the duty Arthur has towards his people, it's a duty he takes even more seriously than Uther, but nonetheless he learnt it from him.

This however, as I've hinted, is not the whole story of this episode, Uther is also shown at his worst, and his worst is his ignorance and prejudice towards magic. He is willing to sacrifice justice and even sacrifices logical thought to his blind persistence that magic is evil.

Arthur: She's right Father. You hear the word magic you no longer listen.

Uther: You saw it for yourself, she used enchantments.

Arthur: Yes, maybe. To save her dying father, that doesn't make her guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart

Aside from what this says about Arthur. Arthur's comment about Uther hits right to the point of things "you hear the word magic you no longer listen". You no longer listen implies its a choice, and it is. Uther has made the choice for the last 20 years to choose to go on a dogmatic campaign of hate against magic because its easier than considering the alternative, that he was complicit in his wife's death. What Uther says immediately after "there are dark forces threatening this kingdom." is the argument used by so many people throughout history, used to justify so much hate. That there is an evil out there threatening the stability of life, that the world must be controlled and people have to live a certain way or risk destroying their own lives. It's an argument that justifies campaigns of hate and makes them personal to ordinary people who usually wouldn't care, and it is always a lie, that's not how the world works.

This episode thus shows Uther at his best and his worst, both a dutiful king and a stubborn tyrant. It's a tragedy of what he could of been, and shows how twisted up people can become when they justify their decisions with hate and fear.

Arthur

This is the first episode where Arthur really opposes Uther, he directly questions Uther's indiscriminate hatred of magic, and an episode where he realises to an extent he perhaps hadn't before some of the ways in which Uther has failed as a king. He also consciously acts in deception of Uther, because he can see Uther can't see sense. Arthur shows far more nuance of view than Uther does, understanding (even whilst still accepting as he will for a long time that magic is dangerous and it corrupts) that using magic doesn't make you automatically evil. To see the world the way Uther does is a conscious choice, you have to choose to be blind to the virtues of every apparent magic user you come across, you have to believe harmless spells are the signs of greater evil. Arthur is not someone who lets his own cowardice blind himself to reality, and so his worldview can see far more nuance than Uther can.

"One's the act of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

He further has a very positive view of others, Arthur will always see the good in people and that is a great strength in my view. In a lot of versions of the story Arthur's not just inspiring because he's good but because he assumes others are good too, he trusts people to do the right thing and I do believe that, that can inspire people to do the right thing. It's funny in Merlin Arthur's trust gets betrayed so many times but it never really hardens his heart, he continues to trust people no matter how many times he gets betrayed. This can be seen in his perception of Guinevere here, he will not assume she is evil because she has made a mistake, he can see the virtue in her actions, and he will assume goodness until proven otherwise. Innocent until proven guilty, in other words. It's its own form of justice, a justice Uther is forgetting, its a tenant of many legal systems and its a tenant Arthur clearly supports.

Arthur is also seeing his role as the king of Camelot in creating a Camelot that he would like to live in.

"Yes I am yet to be king, and I don't know what type of king I will be. But I do have a sense of the type of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

It's not the Camelot he would wish to rule, its the Camelot he would wish to live in. Arthur wants to live in a just world, he wants his people to be treated with justice just as he would like to be treated with justice. This further illustrates that unlike Uther he is not letting anger or ignorance blind him to reality, he wants the world he lives in to be fair without exception.

Finding the Balance between The Greater Good and The Immediate Good

The Greater Good is a tricky concept, you can justify any amount of cruelty if it will lead to good later on, but do the ends justify the means? It's not really a question its ever possible to provide a definitive answer for. It's easy to say that they don't, that you should just do the right thing, the nice thing, the good thing in the moment but actions have consequences and doing the good thing all the time (especially in a position where thousands of lives depend on you) is not usually possible. Merlin tackles this theme, I believe, quite well, trying to find a balance between acting for the greater good and acting with what is immediately good, and this episode is a good example.

In a just and fair world you would be able to do good all the time, but this is not the case for everything, though you should never use the worlds not fair as an argument for not doing good things but I digress. Merlin's decision to save Gwen's father ultimately backfires on Gwen because the world is not fair, the world Uther has created mean even these acts of love are punishable with death. Because, for Uther, magic is magic, and magic is evil. Gaius was, in this situation, ultimately right, Merlin can't always do what is easy and what feels right because the consequences may not be good. In other matters like closing off the lower town, Arthur's initial response is concern for the people who live their, but Uther's right he has to make this one tough decision because otherwise he risks the whole city.

However, Uther's attitude to Gwen (aside from revealing his own stubbornness and prejudice) is an example of the greater good taken too far. He has absolutely no evidence that killing Gwen will stop this plague, but he's making that sacrifice anyway because it might, that is not justice or fair or anything resembling goodness. And he justifies his decisions with what I've already said is an age old argument- "These decisions must be made. There are dark forces threatening this kingdom." This is just another version of any easy choice, acting without regard to the greater good is an easy choice but so is ignoring what is immediately right in pursuit of some ambiguous goodness. He's confusing his own weakness and ignorance for strength.

The point Merlin is, I believe trying to make is that there must be a balance. Sometimes you have to pursue the greater good, but the ends don't really justify the means.

There is a reason Arthur and Merlin will create the Camelot of legend and Uther and Gaius don't, Merlin and Arthur aren't going to sacrifice their own goodness for the sake of the greater good. Merlin for one ensures Arthur never has to, its sad but Merlin in many ways makes the harsh and cruel decisions that Arthur never has to make. However, he also often doesn't make those decisions. He reaches a point where he wants to let people die, but he never actively attempts to kill Morgana or Mordred by himself unless it is an absolute in the moment choice between them and Arthur, and even though there is plenty of moral ambiguity about that and plenty of debates you can have about that. Fundamentally the point remains, Uther would have killed them and that's why he could never be the king Arthur would be or the influence for decency Merlin would be, the ends don't ever entirely justify the means. Besides if Merlin had thought that and killed Mordred and Morgana for their possible futures he would not have been the decent person he was and he could not have helped Arthur build a good Camelot, Camelot would not have existed if Merlin had acted entirely with the greater good in mind to ensure Camelot's future.

Other Stuff

Gwen's scene in the cell is so terribly sad, she's trying to be brave and her final request to Merlin is just so sad, "Remember me." She's so young and its the injustice and cruelty of Uther's kingdom that's condemning her, his own blindness to anything involving magic. We all want to be remembered don't we, especially when you die so young that you've barely had the chance to live. -----Also Guinevere will be remembered, she is a legend so there's something very bittersweet in this. She is not forgotten, then or ever

It's funny watching back to season 1, Merlin spends a lot of the time complaining about how Arthur will never recognise him for who he is. He wants recognition. But by the end of the show, yes of course he'd like recognition but he's learnt to just put up with never getting it. His priorities have changed so much.

There's this thing that happens a lot in season 1 and 2 (and I think a bit in season 3 but its less funny then) where Morgana persuades Arthur to do things by insulting him and its the funniest thing ever, and the first instance of it is here. I like to call these her 'epic sibling powers' cause they are just such siblings and its hilarious every time

"You are one side of the coin, Arthur is the other."- Kilgaharrah--> Just, yes.

Also when Arthur gets Merlin out of when Merlin confesses to being a sorcerer—> he's obviously making stuff up on the spot—> like he might sort of believe it (the stuff about Gwen) but fundamentally he's just trying to protect him without really knowing for sure why Merlin's lying

"One day people won't believe what an idiot you were."- Gaius--> Fun little nod to the audience who know Merlin of legend (as nothing like the BBC Merlin)

Also at this point we don't know why Uther really banned magic so there is an element of moral greyness to it all. We know magic's not evil, we know Uther went too far but at this point there is still a question about 'how too far' did he go?

Coronation by Rageprufrock (seriously read it. It's amazing): https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749

[hs-devote]

i. láthi: the myth

Moodboard * Content * Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

i. the myth

“Fuck me.”

He collapses when he reaches his climax, along with the lady underneath him who's jolting when the pleasure hit them together. Their touched chest panting together, with sweats covering their naked body, confirming whatever activities they're having.

“That was good.”

He chuckles, “Absolutely.”

The man rolls from her, throwing his sculptured body next to the lady. He smiles when he feels the soft fingertips of her caressing his toned chest. He hums, lifting his head to land a kiss on her forehead.

“You're going today?” she mutters, “Why should you?”

“Selene,” he sighs, “Our people couldn't find her and they were too dumb. I can't wait any longer if I know I have more power to find her.”

“Fine then. But, don't take too long. I'll miss my husband so much.” the woman named Selene leans in to kiss her husband neck, “Our bed will missing you too, Harry.”

The man with the name Harry just laughs, twirling her blonde strand around his finger, “No need to worry, darling.”

Selene giggles sweetly as her husband cradles her face and brings their lips to moulded together..

. . . .

Harry feels weird.

It's not his first time being on Earth, but this will be the first time staying longer in the world of human and other creatures. Sure, the Earth is so beautiful but no one can against the beauty of Centauri. Centauri is where he lives, with his darling wife, Selene. Not only lives, but he is also the ruler of the realm, the lord of Centauri and all therein. He is the God of Centauri, and Selene is his Goddess.

The two of them have been married for a couple of years, long before the throne fell on him. Unfortunately, they haven't been given a child which is essential to keep their lineage. Selene is infertile, and that's why Harry has to go down to earth. To find the Goddess of Birth, who has been missing for hundreds years. He wants to ask her help for his wife.

And here he is, in Syracuse. Where everyone believes that the Goddess is somewhere in Italy, and Syracuse is the best prediction because the town was a witnessed the triumph of Centauri. Centauri is the realm that lies between the stars and moon, and cannot simply be searched for – can be found for the rightful creatures. The realm is unbelievable beautiful, a heaven-like, everything is so pure and sacred.

"Why human wears such odd clothes?" he hums, eyes darting from his foot to his chest. He feels weird and a little bit uncomfortable to wearing normal human clothes, everything they wear is so different from what he and his people wear back in Centauri. He used to wear silk, cervelt, or even satin. And when he's on earth, he has to adjust.

"This place is so plain." he averts his gaze around his temporary residence. He rents a cottage near the beach, for him easily return to Centauri at any time. The building is typically Italian country house, with stones wall and wooden door and windows. The things he likes about his temporary residential, it gives him more privacy than he asked. It's not in a remote area yet has traditional features combined with comfort and practicality. Even so, something is missing for him.

Flowers.

Back on his castle, flowers are always in every corner of the room and he's used to it. Flowers symbolize beauty and admiration, reminds him of his darling Selene.

Selene.

It's just a few hours after his arrival but he misses her already. But, in Centauri, it's only been a split second. Yes, the cycle of time in his realm is much longer than on earth. And because he isn't a human, especially a God, his aging is taking a really long time. If he's twenty-eight in human age, in fact, he's hundreds years old in Centauri time. But of course, his looks and physical like exactly a man on his mid-twenties. He's gifted with a beautiful face, perfectly sculptured body, voice as sweet as honey yet deep and firm.

Thinking of the flowers, Harry decides to step out of the cottage and roaming around the town to find a florist. He frowns as his eyes catch an Alfa Romeo Spider in his porch, looking at the vintage car with so much wonder. Even though he lives in a different realm, but he understands how the human worlds work and how human lives in general. That's why he got the car for his mobility.

But this time, he prefers to go on foot.

His green eyes full of wonder and curious, looking at his surrounding where humans doing their activities. But, the view this town got is more exciting to him. He admits how beautiful Syracuse is, even the town is small and the population isn't large. He thinks about inviting Selene to come here one day.

Then, his eyes catching a flower shop not too far from where he's standing right now. The shop looks pretty with so many flowers on their display, and it's the only flower shop near the beach – he guesses. He doesn't think twice and brings his foot closer to the shop. Feeling grateful that he doesn't need to walk far.

The shop is fairly small yet its collection of flowers is quite various. Before he goes inside, he looks at the flowers in the basket. The flowers are quite different with ones in his castle, but they're still pretty. Harry is too awestruck with them to make him unaware of the presence of someone beside him.

“Posso aiutarla, signore?”

He snapped his neck fast, eyes grow wider when looking at the young girl standing next to him. The girl offers him a friendly smile with a bouquet of roses in her arms. For a split moment, he's staring too long at her and makes the girl frowns. Shifting awkwardly, the girl asks him once again.

“Can I help you, sir?”

She speaks English with him, thinking he's not Italian and just a foreign tourist. But Harry just smiles, and pointing out her flowers, “Sono belli.”

“Si,” the girl nodded in agreement, “Grazie.”

"Err, I don't understand Italian that much." he scratches his neck nervously, "But, can I get a bouquet of each sunflower, daisies, and lilies?"

“Sure. Do you want to choose them for yourself or let me choose them?” she smiles, “But, I assure you they're all good.”

He nodded, “I trust you, thank you.”

“Fine. Coming right up.”

"Thanks." His eyes following the girl who just saunters into the shop. Shortly after, the girl comes out wearing gloves with scissors in her pocket. Her hands delicately pick out each flower and put them into the nearby basket.

“Is this the only flower shop in here?” Harry throws a question, eyes looking sharply at her – watching every move she makes.

“You could say that.” she shrugs, “Well, there's one but quite far from here. Not in the beach area, though.”

“Ah, I see.” he nods, “Do you know good places to visit? This is my first time and I don't know where the worth to visit.”

It's obvious Harry doesn't just stay for only a week or so, he needs more than that to find the missing Goddess. And he thinks visiting a place or two won't hurt. He loves to explore places, and it will help him to widen his search area.

Does he know where to find the Goddess?

No, he doesn't.

But, he can feel her if she's close. Also, the Gods and Goddesses have a special hidden mark on them to identify them as the extraordinary creatures.

"Is this your first time in Italy?" she looks at him with her doe eyes, "We have so many beautiful places to visit." then, she continues to pick the flowers.

“First time in Syracuse. But, I've been to Modena and Florence.” he doesn't lie. He went to Modena and Florence a few years ago, but it was just a quick visit. Really quick visit that only a day trip.

“Well, how much days do you have?” she questions him.

“Actually, I'm here for work so... I have much time, I think." he bites his lips, "Does it take many days?"

“No..” she laughs, putting the flowers into the bouquet and tied them up with black ribbon, “If you have a plenty of time, I suggest you visit several places in Sicily, not only Syracuse.”

“Thank you.” he says when the girl handed him his flowers, “But, I think this town is rich with Greek and Roman history. So, it will be more fun.”

"Oh, you're into a history?" she widens her eyes in surprise. Because not many people like a history that much. And finding a handsome man loves historical places, it tickles her a little.

"You could say that." he grinned, then stretches out his hand, "We haven't introduced ourself yet. My name's Harry."

The girl giggles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”

Her hand is soft like cotton and makes him wonder what treatment she did have to keep them so delicate. Even Selene's hands are not as soft as her hands. His smile fades a bit when Y/N takes her hand from him, and intertwining her hands together instead. He doesn't know why a disappointment swept over his heart when he lost touch with her. It feels like her hands convey a sense of safety to his soul. He drowns in his reverie too long, until he realises she's looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He blinks his eyes, shaking his head shamefully.

“I'm sorry. How much are these?” he says, looking at the bouquets in his arms like they are his babies.

“That would be €100.”

Harry then dig his pockets, taking out the money and hands her the cash. He politely thanks her before walking back to his cottage.

On the way home, he keeps thinking about the girl. Y/N. He doesn't deny that she's beautiful, charming, and she has something that he feels different. He assumes she's so much younger than him – than his God age and human age of course, and wondering how old is she. Then, he remembers Selene. Selene's human age is the same with him, but sometimes she acts like a few years younger and childish. He wonders if Y/N acts like that too.

He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. How could he compare his wife to another woman?

. . . . Flowers are quite essentials for him. And that's why he always buys them every day. For several weeks he's been here, he buys flowers from different shops and of course compares the qualities of each. Short story, he bought a few bouquets from a shop far from his cottage. He liked their flowers, but he didn't like the woman who sold them. She always flirted with him when he tried to pick the flowers, and openly asked him out.

Harry aware very well how attractive he is. And the way his wife keeps telling him how hot he is always being his constant reminder. He remembers when he was single, hadn't taken the throne yet, the ladies on Centauri always thrown themselves on him. Stared at him like he was their delicious prey, like he was the heaven that everyone always dreamt of. He knew they always had his name spoken between their conversation.

He was very cocky and proud of that – at that time. But, when he married Selene, all of them didn't diminish. The hunger stare, their giggly comments about him – it bothered him and Selene very much. However, the time when he took over the throne, those ladies zipped their mouth close. Very aware that they shouldn't talk inappropriately of their ruler.

But, the thing that bothers him more is those who talked about Selene. About her wife being infertile and hasn't produced an heir. Harry knows it annoys Selene more, and that's what brought him down to earth. For one mission.

How is his search been?

Absolutely nothing.

He still couldn't find the Goddess until now. He has arrived at the right place, but it's hard to find one person among the hundreds of thousands of people here. However, he must not give up. He tries to find a clue by going to historical places of the Gods and Goddesses. Time travelling to a few decades back to find any closure. But, it just gives him small pieces of the story.

Thinking about that saturated him a bit. He decides to go out and buying new flowers for his cottage since his last flowers were already withered. Climbing on his car, Harry started the engine and drive away. It only takes ten minutes drive for him to arrive at a certain flower shop. He smiles looking at the open signage hanging on the wooden posts but the girl he wants to see is nowhere to be found. He kills the engine, getting out of the car, and walking to his destination.

His smiles grow wider when his eyes catching the girl who just comes out from inside, holding a toddler in her arms. Is that her kid?

“Hello,” Harry greets her, looking at both the girl and the toddler.

“Oh. Hi, Harry.” Y/N smiles, adjusting the quiet little girl on her hips with both her hand wrapped around the small body, “Looking for some flowers?”

“Yes.” he breathes, “It's peonies and gardenias this time.”

“Good choices. They're still fresh because they just came a few minutes ago.” she nods, “Just a moment, I should take Lola inside.”

“Sure.”

Y/N gives him apologetic smile before going inside. It doesn't take a minute for her to comes out with gloves hand and no the toddler clinging onto her.

“Was that your child?” Harry asks curiously, watching Y/N picks out the peonies and putting them to the basket, “She's beautiful.”

"Unfortunately, no." she answers, "Lola is my friend's daughter. She asked me to babysit her this morning since she had to be out of the town until night. I thought my job is easy enough so I agreed and brought her here. Luckily my co-worker inside didn't mind at all."

“And yes. She's beautiful and such a happy baby. She's just three years old after all.” she adds, “Didn't bother me that much.”

Harry doesn't say a word, he just keeps looking at Y/N who's now putting the flowers together. He thanks her when she gives him the bouquets, then hands her the money.

“I've visited some places, most of them were historical.” he starts, “But, do you know any similar place? I mean, I'm interested with Greek and Roman myths. So, if anything like that I'll be happier.”

"Have you visited the town hall?" she asks back, "They have a lot of historical information about it, and one of them is the myth about Centauri."

Hearing his realm being mentioned makes him stiffened, but he has to play cool. Harry doesn't know if the people now know about Centauri since it had happened centuries ago and it's almost certain that no human has become living witnesses, only Centauri people who still have that memory to this day. Everyone thinks that the legacy of Centauri's victory was from another life.

“Centauri? What's that?”

"I think it's quite similar to Greek and Roman myths. But, everyone believes that Centauri's myth is greater than the Greek and Roman. Rumours say that the legacy of Greek and Roman, were actually Centauri's. Greek and Roman couldn't touch Sicily because it was overpowered by Centauri."

Harry scrunches his nose, “Only Sicily?”

"I guess? Because the rest of Italy was under Greek and Roman's power." she shrugs, "Well, I don't know much since I'm not Italian. But, that's what I heard from my granny."

“Oh, you're not Italian?” he asks in surprise, he doesn't think Y/N isn't Italian because her Italian accent that time was quite impressive. But, if he studies her carefully, he knows she's not.

“I'm English. I moved here since I was eight with my granny.” she chuckles, “That was after the passed of my parents.”

She's an orphan, and only live with her grandmother – he guesses. He feels bad to ask him that question if it would lead to a sad thing.

"I'm sorry about that." he gives her sympathetic smile, "I don't know–"

She waves her hand, "It's okay, Harry. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, right?"

“So, you're living with your grandmother? Only two of you?” “Correct.”

“How old are you if you don't mind?”

“I just turned twenty-one last month.”

See, she's much younger than Harry thought. He then nods, “Happy birthday, then.”

"It's late. But, thank you, Harry."

In all of sudden, Y/N co-worker came out from inside with the sobbing toddler on her hips. The toddler's face is wet with tears and pouting mouth.

“Piange perché le manca sua madre." her co-worker informs her and hands her the wailing baby. Y/N thanks her and begin to wipes the wet stains off the baby's face while cooing sweet words, trying to soothe the little girl.

“Va tutto bene, Lola. Andiamo a casa, va bene?” she whispers in Lola's, the little girl, ear. Her palms stroking Lola's back while bouncing her body. For a moment, she forgets Harry who looks at her in awe. Watching the precious scene unfolded before his eyes. He loves how gentle Y/N to the baby and thinking she will be such a great parent someday.

“Lo so, caro. Lo so. Ti manca moltissimo tua madre, sì?” she cooes, “La mamma tornerà stasera. Non preoccuparti. Vuoi giocare a casa mia?”

Harry watching carefully the way Y/N treats the little girl, the sweet gesture and fondness making him thinks about his future when he has children of his own. Thinking how beautiful and complete his life would be with the presence of a child whom not only he is the who craved, but everyone else. A child who would later replace him on the throne.

His lips forming small smile when Lola nods in Y/N's neck, refusing to show her face. She seems unwilling to let go since her tight fists wrapping around Y/N's neck.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I think I'll call it a day and go home. I don't want the customers to be bothered if Lola keeps crying.” Y/N says softly, her hands still stroking Lola's hair.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks hopefully, wanting Y/N to take his offer. He just curious about the little girl and fascinated about the bond between them. He knows she is close with the child, proven by Lola who agreed with her suggestion.

“Oh, don't worry, Harry. I can walk back to my house.”

“Why?” Harry is surprised by what he had just said, sounding so pushy. He hurriedly corrected before it was too late, “I mean, it will be a little inconvenient walking while carrying her. I parked my car not far from here. At least if I give you a ride, you will arrive sooner.”

“Uhm...”

"C'mon." he assures her when she looks a bit reluctant, "Besides, you haven't told me other worth visiting places in Sicily.

“Fine,” her agreement makes him smirks, “Let me take my bag first.”

He nods, letting Y/N take her time to grab her things. It doesn't take too long to her joins him in the front of the shop. She smiles, giving an okay to them to go. On the short walk to his car, Harry stealing glances at the lady next to him. Y/N tries to talk to Lola for the child to not feeling sad anymore. He doesn't realise that he has been smiling at the two of them.

He stops at his car, putting the flowers on the back seat before unlocking the passenger door for her. Y/N climbs into the car and thanking him for closing the door for her. She adjusts Lola in her lap while Harry joins her in the driver seat.

“Nice car, anyway.” she comments as the engine starting to roar.

“Thank you,” he replies while turning the steering wheel, letting the car down the street. Both of them didn't utter a word for the past minutes. If Harry busy behind the wheel, Y/N seems to be enjoying the ride by feeling the afternoon breeze sweeping her hair.

“Looks like you enjoying the ride.” he says softly, looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.

"Mhm, it feels nice to ride along this beautiful coastal with a convertible car." she nods, her head turns to see the beach not so far from here. Then, her head flicks to see him, "Do you know the direction to my home? I only gave you the name street."

"There's a technology called Google Maps," he jokes, "And luckily, I know how to used them."

Y/N laughs loudly, making him laugh too. Somehow her laughter is infectious, and he swears it was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Yet, both of them hurriedly closes their mouth when Lola shushed them. The way Lola pouts her lips makes him gushes, thinking how cute she is.

“Mi dispiace, Lola. Non intendo ignorarti.” Y/N giggles, twirling her dark curls. The little girl just huffs, before cackling loudly because Y/N peppering kisses all over her face.

That makes Harry's heart flutter, seeing how precious a child is and the affection between them. For a moment, he looks at them like they're his family. A feeling of happiness filled his heart just thinking about it. But, he shakes the thought away. He has his wife back at home and will have a child someday.

“So, Y/N.” he coughs, “You just said to me earlier the town hall is a worth visiting place to know the history of Sicily. Where is it?”

“It's near Catacombe di San Giovanni actually, just five minutes walking distance from there.” she responses, “That's a nice place. Unfortunately, not many people come to visit.”

“Y/N, posso avere il gelato?” Lola whispers to Y/N. She just pinches her chubby cheeks, “Quando torniamo a casa, va bene?”

“Perchè non ora?”

“Perché non possiamo fermarci. non vogliamo disturbare Harry, vero?”

Lola slumps her shoulder before nodding softly, leaned back on Y/N chest while playing with her skirt. Harry who's behind the wheel, knows the girl is upset and he couldn't see an upset child. All he does now is, turn the wheel to stop by the ice cream parlor he'd seen before.

“Posso fermarmi un momento. che sapore vuoi?” he questions Lola who just staring at him with her big hazel eyes. She gives him toothy grins, nodding her head quickly makes him worry that it will fall off from how fast she nods.

“Posso avere due misurini di fragola e cioccolato?”

“Lola..” Y/N warns the toddler in her lap. But, Harry quickly shakes it off, “It's okay, Y/N. Just think of me treat you as a sign of our friendship.”

“Remind me to treat you back someday, Harry.” she sighs in defeat, then looking at the smiling child on her lap, “At least she will be better after this.”

. . . . It becomes Harry's habit to buy flowers at Y/N's shop. If usually he would buy them once a week, now he buys them almost every three days. Not only did he keep them fresh, but there was also feeling that would stick in his heart of he didn't see her. And he doesn't know why.

“Harry! Stai cercando Y/N?” Mia, Y/N’s co-worker greets him. She was sorting the withered flowers in front of the shop when Harry came. Harry feels his cheek heated; he nervously scratches his neck.

“Sì. Ma voglio anche comprare nuovi fiori.” he let out a nervous sigh, “Lei è qui?”

“Compra nastri per un po'. Aspetta solo un momento.”

“Grazie, Mia.”

Not long after, Harry feels a light tap on his shoulder. He smiles finding Y/N standing in front of him with the groceries in her hands.

"Hi, Harry." she grins, "Coming to buy another flower?"

He nods, “I will have three bouquets of baby breath and two bouquets of carnations this time.”

“Sure, wait a minute. I have to put this stuff inside.” She smiles, showing her shopping bags before storming inside. A few minutes later, she comes out with her gloves and scissors, obviously.

“I’m curious. Why do you often buy flowers?” she hums, “Are those for someone special?”

“No,” he answers honestly, “I just happen to like flowers, very much. They’re just pretty and I’m used to having a garden to plant them. Then, when I moved here and I don’t have a garden, flowers in a vase aren’t bad.”

“You’re just a romantic guy, aren’t you?” she teases him while tying the flowers.

“What makes you think like that?” he chuckles.

"Because…" she hangs her word, "It's rare to find a guy who happens to like flowers."

“Then, I’m such a rare guy then.” he wiggles his eyebrow, smiling a bit makes his dimples pop out. For a moment, Y/N thinks it’s cute. Moreover, the way she just finds out that Harry has bunny teeth, it’s just adding his cuteness.

“Cocky much you are.” she laughs, shaking his head. Then, handing him his bouquets, “There you are.”

"Thanks," he whispers then give her the money, "Actually. I came here also to ask for your help."

“Mhm, what is it?”

“About the Town Hall thing. Do you think you can accompany me to go there?” he nervously asks her, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“When?”

“The sooner the better.”

“All right. I think I can leave now so we can go there faster.”

Harry widens his eyes, doesn’t think Y/N will agree and ask to go right now. To be honest, if Y/N refused him, it would be fine. He just wants to know what the people think about Centauri myth. Since Y/N is a local, she might know a little bit about it and maybe, maybe be able to help him.

“Is that OK? I mean, you’re at work and I don’t want to disturb you.” he asks with concern, “We can leave after you finish your work, though.”

“It’s okay, H. I’m not really working today and just stopped by the shop.” she bites her lips, “Besides, if I can help my friend sooner, why not?”

His heart flutters in awe after hearing that. He doesn't think Y/N considered him as a friend, a friend that happens because of the constant of buying flower. Plus, the way Y/N calls him by a nickname makes his heart stirs.

“Let me return the gloves and scissor and then we can go together.” she winks, then excusing herself before meeting him again. Harry leads the way to where his car was parked, not too far from the shop. He politely opens the passenger door for her, then putting the flowers in the back seat.

“Do I need to tell you the direction or.. you will use the Google Maps thing?” she teases.

He frowns a bit, “Google Maps is okay. But, you can tell me the right direction if the Maps goes wrong.”

“Okay then.” she hums, averting her gaze to the road in front of them. Looking at the beautiful Sicilian scenery. Sometimes, she glances at Harry who seems so focused behind the wheel. Little does she know, Harry is very aware that the girl next to him stealing glances at him. But he chooses to ignore it. Deep down in his heart, he knows she may be attracted to him yet the woman doesn’t want to show that.

“Here we are.” Y/N breaks the silence when they arrive at Town Hall, “You can park in the back of the building.”

Harry just nods, and park the car not far from the entrance. Before getting out of the car, they're quite surprised at the number of visitors that day – much more than usual, according to Y/N. Then, both of them close the door simultaneously and admiring the architecture. The building looks more like a cathedral, thick with gothic nuances and looks majestic. Y/N guides Harry inside and begins to stroll around inside. Of course, Harry goes straight to where the diorama of the Centauri myth is. His eyes catching a few illustrations that he admitted the truth while the people consider them a myth only.

The illustrations are where the Gods and Goddesses came to Sicily, built a civilization, and leaving it as dust when humans crossed their lines.

He doesn't realise he was staring at it for too long and deeply felt it while Y/N stands beside him.

“Harry.” she softly tugs his jacket sleeve, making him jolts and snaps his head to her. Looking at frowning Y/N.

“Uh, yes Y/N?” he scratches his nose, “I’m sorry I was daydreaming.”

“You look very carried away with the illustration.” she looks at him full of wonder, “You really like history, huh?”

“Actually, I think they missed one thing.” he deadpans, “Have you ever heard the myth of a missing Goddess?”

“What?” she blinks, frowning deeply.

“The missing Goddess of Birth. The myth said that the Goddess left Centauri and is believed to be in disguise among the Italians.” he exhaled, “I’ve heard if that myth but it looks they don’t have the illustration.”

“Well, after all it was just a myth, Harry. Some people believed it, and some didn’t.”

“But, do you believe it?” he challenges her, “The Centauri and myth?”

“I don’t know,” she jogs her shoulder, “But, if it was real, Centauri must be beautiful. The real, the people, everything… they’re believed to be between the moon and the stars.”

“If that was true,” he trails off, “Would you like to see Centauri?”

“Maybe. If I had the chance, though.”

Harry nods, assuming that she doesn’t know about the missing Goddess. Well, he could see a little when it happened. The Goddess had indeed disappeared, and she is, in fact, in Sicily. But, where should he look? Albeit he can sense the presence of other Gods, Goddesses, or Centauri people, it still complicated for him. He doesn’t want his mission in Sicily to be wasted, and he was thinking of getting to something as soon as possible.

Then, it happens.

He senses Centauri people nearby. Who sent them? What are they doing here?

"I think we should go now, Y/N." he murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I'm done, and it was mind-blowing. Maybe I'll look for another theory somehow."

“Why do get so attached about the Centauri thing, Harry?” she asks while exiting the building, “Is that interesting?"

"Like I've told you before, I just like.. history." he brushes her off, helping her to hop on the car. He hastily starts the engine and leaving the building behind before the Centaurian finds him. He doesn't like the idea of him and Y/N get caught. They will tell his wife and he doesn't want that.

Harry doesn't hesitate to drive Y/N home while the girl refuses politely, doesn't want troublesome him. Well, she gives up after all since Harry is so adamant.

He gives her a small smile when she thanks him for the ride, and drifts away from her porch after that. It doesn't take long to arrive at his cottage, he drives pretty fast and the road was quite clear that day. Then, he is surprised by a familiar voice greets him when he opens his door. A few feet from him, someone he hasn't seen in a while standing with arms wide open.

“Selene?”

“My darling, Harry.” the lady sighs happily, jogging towards him and hugs him tightly. Harry has no idea why does Selene come to see him? Is there something wrong back in Centauri? Then, he remembers the Centaurians he sensed in the Town Hall. Was it his wife? But, he could tell right away if it was her. Did Selene send them away?

“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away from her to kiss her full lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing my husband so much,” Selene giggles, “I know it’s only a few days, but…”

A few days? Oh well, it's a few weeks for him. Excuse the different cycles of time between Earth and Centauri.

"Are you going to stay for a while here?" he asks even though he knows what's her answer. Selene never likes Earth and humans, she always looks down on them, thinking they're lowly creatures. Being the Goddess she is, especially as the wife of Centauri's ruler, makes her feel superior and nothing nobler than Centaurians.

“Why should I?” she rolls her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder why you volunteered to come down to Earth even I know what’s your mission. But, still…”

“Selene..” he sighs, “We have discussed this, right?”

“I know, I know.” she pouts, “Let’s just forget that. This place looks nice, anyway.”

“This is your first time complimenting human building, you know?” he teases him while stroking her soft cheeks, “But, yes. This is the nicest in all of Syracuse.”

“Where’s your bedchamber?”

“Why? Do you want to take a rest?”

“No,” she hums seductively, “I just miss you terribly,” then she tiptoed, bringing her mouth to his ear, “And it aching me down there.”

Oh...

Harry unconsciously bites his lip when Selene sucks his skin below the ear, and he is sure it will leave a mark from how hard she sucks them. Not need to think twice, he scopes her body and brings them towards his bedroom. He hasn't had sex since his arrival in Syracuse and it makes him giddy. After all, he also missed his wife even that feeling was sometimes replaced by the presence of Y/N in his new life here.

*

unedited.

share your thought with me, here. 

[imaginesfora3]

Stormy [Furuichi Sakyo/Reader]

Nights like these weren’t uncommon.

You had found that the stormier it was outside the easier it was to cozy up with Sakyo on the couch, romance permeating through the air; he was normally seated there watching some movie you’d never heard of, allowing you to join him if you promised not to talk. It’s not as though you wanted to have a full-blown conversation with him constantly but him saying that always made you want to annoy him a little, poke fun at how seriously he took analyzing movies for the sake of acting, but you saved that for when you wanted a piece of his rowdy side. The pouring rain made you a little more complacent and you agreed to his rules, flopping yourself down beside him with your legs thrown across his lap as you watched.

Sakyo wasn’t the ‘Netflix and chill’ type of man, if you told him you wanted to watch a movie with him, he was going to watch it. It didn’t fit the situation perfectly since you had injected yourself into his personal time but it at least gave you the chance to observe his handsome face without him telling you to scram. You watched his face uninterrupted, noticing the subtle little changes when something happened in the movie to change his mood; it was hard to see if you weren’t looking closely but Sakyo could be rather expressive, and you delighted in seeing all the little faces he made without even knowing.

You think he might be getting distracted when his hand rested on your thigh but he’s as laser-focused as ever, his hand slowly moving up and down your calf in a comforting motion. You wondered how many people would be in awe to see such a scary man give such an intimate show of affection, fingers gliding along your skin as you wriggled under his touch, inching ever closer. You managed to get a side glance out of him but it was your turn to pretend to be enthralled with the movie, knowing he could read you like a book but still pretending anyway.

There had been a time where Sakyo never would have imagined this.

Never would have thought he would be sitting beside the person he loved, holding them, feeling the warmth of their skin and the weight of their admiring gaze. He had denied himself such pleasures for so long for the sake of their happiness, or so he had said. Maybe he just didn’t know how to be a good boyfriend, maybe it was safer to hide behind every excuse he could pile up until the wall was so packed in there was no one willing to tear it down. It had been a team effort to level the playing field once more, a solid effort of you slowly picking away at him while brick by brick he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

Did he think he deserved you?

Not in the slightest.

It was a mindset that you scolded him over, seemed to get genuinely upset over which was understandable enough as it had caused a fair bit of fighting between you. You had even broken up for months, Sakyo unable to properly talk with you, skirting around the concept of love and insisting you were better off as friends. He thought you were presenting him an ultimatum, either love or nothing at all, but in the end, he understood that things between you would never be normal again if he let you go. He wouldn’t just be lacking in your love but your presence entirely, and even with those walls built back up, they would never be as strong, not after you. Not when you had created such a solid crack in its foundation.

But that was why you insisted on building a new one, a foundation you could stand on and build together. No cracks, total transparency, an understanding. He had thought it was just a romantic notion to be able to start over at his age, to be able to see something from someone else’s view point when he was so stubborn himself. But your sincerity reached him, his heart was never as cold as he tried to make it seem, and you never exploited that part of him. You loved and cherished and teased, but you never hurt him, not willingly.

Sakyo wished that the movie didn’t speak to him so clearly, that the miscommunication between the two protagonists didn’t ring so true to life, but it seemed even Hollywood was able to get it right once in a while. The teary-eyed main character reminded him of you, of your frustration, desperate to get him to understand. The stoic secondary character, the love interest, the one who rejected their feelings and refused to admit to them, truly believing the person they loved back was better off without them. There’s also a sense of embarrassment lingering in the back of his mind as he identified with this overdramatic movie far too much for this being a parallel to his reality.

“Sakyo, are you really gonna make me sit through the credits without talking, too?” You had moved your legs from his lap and had instead moved to lean against him, arms wrapped around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. “That ending was depressing. Who wrote that? I should sue.”

“…Not everyone has a happy ending.” A true enough statement but he knew it might just cause an argument if he’s to start a debate about what makes a truly great love story; some of them ended in tragedy, forever a mark on the hearts of those involved.

“…I guess you’re right.” An unsettling silence filled the room as Sakyo looked down at you, lips pursed as he tried to think of something to say. He hoped it didn’t come off as him assuming you and he would have a bad ending, he would never wish that on you after all that you had already suffered through. He had broken your heart more than enough for one lifetime, to the point he knew he’d be making it up for the rest of his life. “You should try watching something upbeat for once.”

“I watch everything as long as it’s good.” That was a lie, you had totally seen him watching some of the trashiest movies to ever grace the big screen, but from the smile on his face you realized it was a joke. He was in rare form tonight, not only outwardly showing you affection but cracking jokes as well.

“Since when have you become a comedian?”

“Who’s laughing?”

Sakyo tried to keep a straight face but it was so hard when you were giving him that incredulous look, the uncharacteristic smile being hidden behind his hand as he pretended to wipe his mouth. You grabbed his hand with one hand and turned his face towards you with another, not missing the low growl that came from his throat at your show of aggression. With Sakyo there was always a bit of fight but you knew how to get your way more often than not, and tonight would be no different. Getting to see his full beautiful smile, not obstacles in the way, was a moment that should be cherished.  

“You’re going to have to tuck me and hold me real tight tonight to chase all my sad thoughts away.” Your noses brushed and Sakyo fought back an eyeroll at your dramatics, “You object to cuddling with me? Aren’t I the sun to your shine? The light of your life? Your very reason to take that first breath in the- “

“Be quiet.” Sakyo cut you off with a chaste kiss to your lips, holding you there for a moment before he pulled away to see your pleased look. He tried to ignore the fact you were clearly leading into him doing that, all too used to him cutting you off by kissing you to shut you up. “Stop pointing out the obvious.”

“Then just agree to give me what I want!”

“… I didn’t tell you to join me.”

“Ugh, does it always have to be so difficult with you?!” Your head flopped back down to his shoulder in defeat and Sakyo smirked, turning back towards the screen. You settled your legs back across your lap as he went to turn on another movie, sighing in defeat at the fact he was making getting him in bed an uphill battle tonight. It wasn’t even that your mind was in the gutter, you simply wanted to be held by the man you held so dear.

“If you can stay quiet through another movie… I can think of a reward for you.”

“Ooh, a gift… Is it change tied to a string? I don’t know what type of gift cheapskates give out~” You teased, ignoring the shiny piece of jewelry around your neck and the heavy ring on your finger.

“You can go to bed alone tonight.”

“And have you sleep on the couch? Your back could never survive.”

The dangerous glint in Sakyo’s eye as he squeezed your thigh told you that you were on the edge of receiving a punishment rather than a present, but with Sakyo, both always turned out in your favor. Your hand rested on top of his, leaning back against the couch and giving him your best ‘love you~’ smile.

You were sure you’d get your way tonight.

Stormy weather was for lovers, after all.

[troutfishinginmusic]

Guide: Lesser-known nu metal albums that hold up

Nu metal is a genre that’s easily derided. It was caricatured as over-the-top angst, baggy jeans and casual misogyny. It was one of the biggest genres when I was first discovering music.

There was plenty of bad music, but to say it was all bad would be inaccurate. It was extremely diverse compared to other metal scenes. It also put issues like child abuse to the forefront, showing survivors they were not alone. Nu metal took a genre that was showing signs of wear and reinvented it. While it soon became saturated by faceless bands (as every popularized genre eventually does), it was important.

As the genre regains popularity, there have been plenty of retrospective lists about bands like Slipknot, Deftones and Korn. There have even been lists detailing some of the lesser known bands. The podcast Roach Koach has done a great job reassessing the genre (It was the catalyst for me making this list). In no order, here are seven nu metal albums you might be less familiar with but are worth your time. These all roughly come from the genre’s original era of popularity.  I’ve also put together a ranking of more established nu metal records at the end.

I love the first couple of Static-X albums, but Cannibal is truly a high-water mark. It’s catchy, concise and extremely heavy. While it has some more straight-ahead metal flourishes (guitar solos!?!), no one could mistake this for another band. And, if nothing else, Static-X is a definitive nu metal band. Cannibal seems to find Static-X revitalized after kicking out a problematic member. Vocalist Wayne Static (who died in 2014) knows exactly what he wants these songs to do. His barking delivery finds spaces in each of these spartan industrial rippers. It represents all the things I like about the genre.

Oracle represents somewhat of a break from the more straight-ahead nu metal sound of Spit, so it might not exactly fit on this list. But ultimately Kittie is forever tied to the genre (much like Deftones), even if they’ve branched out in other directions. Oracle doubles down on heaviness by incorporating death metal influences. Morgan Lander’s vocals kneecap a lot of her more melodically inclined nu peers. It also shows the band progressing, despite losing guitarist Fallon Bowman. When people dismiss the nu metal as an outlet for white male whining, though sometimes deserved, they overlook great albums like Oracle.

Apex Theory’s only album, Topsy-Turvy, is brimming with creativity. Much like System of a Down, which originally featured lead vocalist Ontronik Khachaturianon on drums, the band channels its Armenian heritage. Yet Apex Theory leans into something more melodic, mathy and possibly emo (in more of the At the Drive-In sense). Every aspect of this album feels so precise and thought out. Khachaturianon’s vocals can leap out like a barrage of stream of consciousness yet can just as easily smooth out. It might’ve been a bit too weird for radio but, in a world where SOAD broke, it certainly could’ve happened.

Apartment 26’s final album might be one of the strangest on this list. It’s apparent that it was made to be more “marketable.” Yet those touches make it even weirder. The production here is very polished, but this is still an album that incorporates swing jazz into metal through programmed horns. It’s that oddness, intentional or not, that benefits Music for the Massive. An added bonus is the great cover of “In Heaven” from David Lynch’s Eraserhead (the band’s name is a reference to the film). Apartment 26 easily surpasses its legacy as Geezer Butler’s son’s band on this album.

Taproot’s debut struck on something deeply vulnerable that the band has carried through on subsequent albums. What is often missing on those other albums, though, is the heaviness found on Gift. The band’s raw talent is on display here, recalling System of a Down’s debut. Like that album, influences peek through but the band sound fully formed and unique. Stephen Richards’ distinct vocals, while not for everyone, bend around every twist and turn of these knotty songs. The band moved away from the genre, but created some of its best work within it. Oh, and bonus points for instigating this.

Orgy’s goth-y, processed guitar crunch was often imitated (Deadsy, etc.) but has never exactly been replicated. Candyass in some ways seems like the obvious choice, but there are some awkward growing pains. And really Vapor Transmission is just as good and possibly better. The hooks are bigger, the band commits to the futuristic themes and vocalist Jay Gordon is at the top of his gender-bending industrial crooning game. Orgy remains notable in this era for poking holes in the genre’s inflated macho exterior at every turn. There’s something so transgressive about the way the band operated in nu metal.

New Killer America’s cover always caught my eye when I was a kid. Album art was and still is a big deal to me. I love how subtly gross this is. At the time it was more affecting than the over-the-top gore common on metal albums. It fits the music. Skrape wallows in heavy post-grunge sludge. As Ulrich Wild did on the Static-X albums, there’s a good balance struck between heaviness and accessibility. Skrape had a mysterious vibe that was missing from similar acts that had a tendency to over-share. Despite some awkward vocals/lyrics that come up, NKA is noteworthy.

Honorable Mention: Coal Chamber-Chamber Music, Powerman 5000-Tonight the Stars Revolt, Nothingface-Violence, Mushroomhead-XX, Sevendust-Animosity

Established Classics Ranking

1. Korn-Korn: This was the album that started the genre. Every element that other bands would copy is here. It also features some of the rawist emotion ever recorded (”Daddy”) and some great singles (”Blind,” “Clown”). Some of the lyrics are definitely dated, but there are few metal albums that are as influence and heavy (well, in terms of subject matter) as this.

2. Deftones-White Pony: This album defied every stereotype the genre had. It seamlessly incorporated trip-hop and post-rock influences without sacrificing any of the heaviness. This is the highpoint for a band that rarely has a misstep.

3. System of a Down-System of a Down: SOAD’s debut is heavy, political and completely left-field. It still sounds like nothing else. All of the band’s records are good to great, yet I love how the death metal influences poke out more on this one. That’s a personal preference I guess, I really could’ve picked any SOAD album.

4. Sepultura-Roots: This album is so unbelievably heavy. It’s such a bummer that Sepultura didn’t make a record with this lineup past this point. It’s political in a way a lot of nu metal wasn’t. It seamlessly incorporates the band’s Brazilin heritage. It up-ends any perception about the genre being light-weight.

5. Slipknot-Iowa: This is really the only album from this era that rivals Roots in terms of heaviness. The band draws from a different well than Sepultura, packing Iowa with horror movie imagery. Much of this was to no doubt channel vocalist Corey Taylor’s troubled childhood. There’s something so frantic and desperate captured on this album, which probably has to do with Ross Robinson producing it (he produced Korn’s debut, as well as a lot of other iconic records).

6. Incubus- S.C.I.E.N.C.E.: Few nu metal records are this legitimately fun. Every part of Incubus is bursting with stoned creativity here. It also channels its influences much better than its peers. Somehow metal riffs and bongos go together here. S.C.I.E.N.C.E. showed a more easygoing side of the genre that still retained all the heaviness.

7. Linkin Park- Meteora: Though Hybrid Theory has a lot of singles, I always preferred this one. I think the band forged a bit more of its identity here. It gets a bit heavier, yet retains all the pop smarts. Definitely worth revisiting if you’ve just re-listened to Hybrid Theory to celebrate its recent anniversary.

NOTE: Yeah, Limp Bizkit is not on this list. The band has some cool songs, but ultimately its albums are pretty scattered. Fred Durst is a lot for me to take. The rest of the band is amazingly talented, especially Wes Borland. If its exclusion is annoying to you, please make your own list.

undefined

[0poole]

Soul

Breaking news, everyone: Pixar made another slapper.

I’m gonna get it out of the way first, but the only (and yes, only. Not like someone trying to say “only” even though they have many more nitpicks that they just don’t want to talk about) problem I had at all was that the super high realism of the settings of Earth kind of made the more cartoony faces of the people look a little more off. But, it’s kinda like the same thing people were talking about with that cat in Toy Story 4. It looks super real, which is impressive, but I feel like it was almost too real compared to the faces. Obviously it was too real compared to the supernatural settings because that was intentional, but yeah. It’s not even a big problem, it’s just the only one I can think of. I do think the realistic renderings of hair, light, water, etc at least work with cartoony stuff, but apart from that it looked almost like it could’ve been a photograph, with no exaggeration in the buildings or anything else.

I mean, I love the faces, so I definitely wish they went the extra mile showing extra personality and character in the buildings, as faces do with characters. Considering the faces matter like a bazillion times more, I still think they knocked it out of the park on the visuals. People with more investment and knowledge into the topic already said that the faces of any of the people of color felt cartoony and unique while also being true to life and respectful (My family recently stumbled onto some old animations from the 30s and lemme tell ya... We’ve come a long way), but seriously the characters that sold me on the visuals were the Picasso-esque beings who may or may not be the Gods of the universe maybe?

Spoiler boundary of course. It’s definitely worth a watch.

And that’s honestly what made the realistic world so much better. When the accountant guy went into the real world to set the count right, it was one of the most fun I’ve had just watching something. The sheer contrast between him and the world was so much fun, and it even solidified that those beings weren’t even acting in a different dimension or anything. They’re literally just beings that exist, meaning that all the other parts with the unborn souls and such are just as real as Earth. Or, even better, they’re the ones who can just casually rip a hole in dimensions. As far as depictions of Gods go, if they are even Gods at all, I think they’re one of the best I’ve ever seen. They feel like they could actually be how Gods actually exist, since all the commonalities of Gods involve supernatural power, which would suggest they’re supernatural themselves. I mean, I have a story with Gods in it too and they’re basically just that although admittedly a lot less imaginative.

With those guys being my favorite design, second place definitely goes to the lost souls, although obviously for more subjective reasons. 1) They’re purple, 2) They have one eye, 3) That eye is yellow which I always think is the best compliment to purple, 4) Tentacles, 5) Creepy in a kid’s movie. Franky, I would’ve made them a lot creepier, but even then they’re super creepy, if not visually then in their behavior. They’d just be kind of sad if they were just mumbling around, but since the first introduction to them starts charging at the main characters like a deranged monster. Considering how weird everything in that dimension is, finding something that isn’t nearly as innocent as everything else instantly invokes fear, since you have no idea what that thing can and wants to do to you. Sort of similar, I would’ve also made the “In the Zone” moments a bit more crazy and colorful, like when Joe fell through the void between the road to the Great Beyond and the You-seminar (is that how it’s spelled?), but these “I would do it differently”s might just be a fault of my design ideas or just subjective interests. I would’ve watched 2 hours of pure, nonsensical abstract worlds like the You-seminar with no explanation to how they work.

I definitely have a relief with the story, mostly entirely revolving around 22′s character. I was kind of worried she’d be too childish to really enjoy, but I feel like she was done really well. All the major historical figures’ remarks on how hopeless she were both funny and also really tied into her character “flaw” at the end as she was a lost soul. It might not be the most unique character archetype of all time, but it definitely makes sense, with all the people bringing her down implanting in her mind that she was an anomaly, and after a while was just sort of following it. Plus, she seemed genuinely interested in Joe’s weirdness, instead of being super mindlessly irreverent. And her being able to expand Joe’s understanding about his own world, like with the barber and his student, brings her up as more than a whiny, bratty child in the scope of the story. She didn’t JUST learn.

Even though I kind of expected it from the get-go, I’m also relieved that the movie didn’t shy away as much with the dark elements of death. It was kind of suggested that this wasn’t going to be a perfectly casual romp through a magical afterlife like Inside Out was with the mind because of the unborn souls unabashedly saying “Hell” in the TRAILER of the movie. I feel like that alone made the story super interesting, because it shows they’re actually going to be a bit more serious with things instead of just simplifying the unknowable complexities of the before & afterlife. Even with the dead souls going into the Great Beyond, it was a mix of being weirdly peaceful for some and super scary for others. My family thought it was peaceful for the most part, but my mom specifically though it was terrifying, and even though it’s a lot more peaceful than almost all other depictions of death, I can’t blame her. The souls were just kinda accepting it, like they’d been brainwashed or something, but still acknowledged that they were dead and were going into the afterlife. Plus, Joe, being the main character who we are supposed to sort of reflect in a way, was super freaked out by it, so that could easily suggest it’s to be afraid of and the other people are the weird ones.

I think the true message of the story being so strange was better too, because it would’ve been so boring if it fell into a super basic message we’ve heard millions of times. I feel like it has a similar sentiment to the basic messages, but is at least a more interesting way of saying it, if it is even like that in the first place, because it’s also somewhat vague in a good way. I think my brother/mother misinterpreted and simplified things a bit too much, where they thought it was sort of like a happier way of saying “accept your lot in life and don’t change it.” I could probably go on a full other rant about why I think this is wrong, but part of it is I don’t really know how they came to this conclusion in the first place, considering with that scene with that guy who threw the computers off his desk as his lost soul was cured (I guess you could call it that?), who obviously realized he wasn’t okay with his lot in life and was destined to change it. I think they sort of misinterpreted “the spark” and other things it as a 100% for-real, this-is-how-the-real-world-works sort of way, and not as much as a fictional way of saying things. Not necessarily symbolic, but I guess symbolic also? It has some of the same weird logical problems as the Cutie Marks from My Little Pony, except they’re obviously better since Cutie Marks determine your life down to your very job some of the time, while “sparks” are more vague and seemingly up to you. They’re more like when an unborn soul realizes there’s something on Earth they want to figure out, not necessarily their hobbies or jobs. For example, they kind of cited the barber character as the one who supported their point, but I think he does the complete opposite. He wanted to be a vet, but he ended up being a barber. But, they sort of assumed his “spark” was to be a barber, and that his personal interests didn’t matter because the “spark” forced him into a less favorable job. But, in reality, I feel like his “spark” is more his interest in love for the people around him, which is why he decided to get a more practical job to support his daughter (wife? one of the two) when he really needed to. Plus, he still enjoys being a barber because his devotion to love lets him connect to people as he cuts their hair. After all, he seems to be succeeding in his goal, since Joe was just like “Hey, let’s go see this guy he’s the exact guy we need!” People who don’t show love and interest for others don’t make that kind of impression in people’s minds. I feel like if we knew each story of everyone’s life down to the last detail we could fully determine what the mechanics of the world and its people are meant to say from a fictional context, but with such a limited selection I don’t think you can say something so sure. Sure, every choice in a movie is made specifically for a purpose, but I feel like if a movie tries to hard to be like “Oh but don’t worry here’s an exception” a million times it gets bogged down by its own attempt to make the message as obvious as possible.

Anyway...

There are also a lot of neat little details I loved, like how even though they did this for basically no other point in the movie, they made sure to include people from all around the world in that mess of dead souls, firmly sort of putting in the idea that the entire globe is in a sense one single entity that leads to the same place. They could’ve so easily just made everyone speak English for that throwaway scene, but I feel like including people from all around the world was very beneficial. Even the EXTRA little things, like the path to the Great Beyond looking like the neck portion of a guitar with the metal bits that separate the notes, or the facial features of the Gods blurring when they turned their heads in the other direction.

But yeah, who would’ve guessed Pixar made another good movie, right? Even then, Soul’s in the upper echelon of Pixar films. I really hope they (and Disney) realize they can go bonkers with a movie and still benefit/survive from it, since they’re so damn rich and inherently profitable. I think AAA animated movies like this that are the perfect amount of artsy are few and far between, and we need more of them. If anything, I hope they get more artsy, but I guess I’ll still never say no to a fun fantastical romp either. Basically, Pixar has looped me into watching any and everything they produce because it’s never “bad” I think. In the grand scheme of quality, even their worst work (Cars 2) is still not “terrible,” per se, even if it feels like it exists more as a cash grab than a genuine tale.

[kittyspring-creates]

teaser fic, here’s a tease on what I’m working on

(after chp 321)

That was it, with the appearance of class 1-A. There whole plan was shattered. But no one could really be mad about it. In retrospect it was a terrible plan. Using some 16 year old kid as bait for a league of villain's that had effectively shaken and killed many hero's. That had been escaping them for over a year. It was a bad plan. Everyone involved could tell. Just by sharing glances that they all thought the same. Another mark on their ever growing failure. This was the end. No more running around trying to lure them out. It was time to go back to plan B. General search. Even if it was going to be worthless. But for now they needed to go home. Tired and dirty from living in cars for the passed month. Sleep deprived from the constant moving and lack of trade off for the drivers seat.

Best Jeanist drove through the town, his passenger seat taken up by Hawks. The skinny man no longer needing his oxygen tank. But the device still sat by his feet. Rattling every know and again when the number three would turn or hit uneven asphalt. The blond did nothing to stop it. His marked eyes, bare of his usual makeup, heavy with each blink. Instead of resting against the glass he just stared out at the passing scenery. In the back of the drivers car sat the number one hero. Taking up his whole back seat, hunched over with his wrists on his knees. The man stared down at the dirty floor. Freshly cleaned from all the garbage that had collected but still looked filthy. His expression was unseen, though it was obvious what he was thinking about. Not just how their plan failed, but how he let down his son once again. Always chasing the acceptance of his youngest but always messing it up. This time was harsher then the rest. Because he had kept Midoriya from the teen. Had allowed him to put himself in danger and push himself till he was wrecked. Bloody and torn. Till he no longer looked like a hero. Solidifying the youngers notion that he had to do everything alone. It seemed there was no coming back from that mistake in his sons eyes.

The blond man turning the cars wheel let out a loud exhale. Presenting his own turmoil to the others if they were paying attention. That everything was for not and all they did was worsen an already bad situation. That the man was at a loss of how to fix anything. His friends, his own status, society. The car stayed silent till they reached the vacant street in fukuoka. The small man blinked with recognition as his brain processed the scenery. He sat up to stare out the window shield. Waiting till they arrived at his rather large house. Except he couldn't see it where ti was suppose to be. Best Jeanist halted the car rather harshly, jerking his passenger's. But they weren't annoyed by it. The three hurried out of the car. Hawks was the quickest, sprinting to his stone gate. The sight shocked him, erasing any exhaustion he had been fighting in the vehicle. His sing with his name was torn off the wall, but he barely noticed. To busy staring up at the burnt structure that barely stood soundly. The inside black and hallowed, majority of the building laid in rubble and ash on the property. He walked onto the pieces. Barely recognizing what was what. What use to be his living room, his kitchen, his mothers side of the house. His bedroom. All of it was gone. Left behind was just a shell, an outline of what once was. Decorated with spray paint. Words aggressively stating 'fake' 'not a hero' 'hero's don't kill' 'die' 'we don't need you' and 'killer'. He stared at them, his expression blank. Though it was clear the words hurt. How could they not, when he gave everything for the people and they threw his mistake in his face. Destroying what life he had built.

He kicked some wood lightly. Setting his hands in his pockets. "Good lord, I never thought anyone would resort to this. Burning down your own home" Jeanist muttered, shocked and speaking his mind rather then to the man. Hawks let out a long breath, his shoulders sinking. "Hawks" Endeavors deep voice called out in the dark. "It's fine, it never felt like a home anyway. It was more for my mom then anything. But...she's gone now so it almost seems fitting" the blond stretched then turned to the two with a smile on his face. "Well looks like I'm crashing at a motel or Jeanist's car again" he spoke lightly, a laugh in his sentence. But it did nothing to reassure the two that he was really ok with losing everything. "Was there nothing here of value to you" the fashionable hero asked. "Hmm no, just some cloths. Which I guess I'll have to buy some now. Eh needed a new wardrobe anyway" he continued to smile. As if it was nothing. As if his life wasn't just torn away and left with the smell of burnt in the air. Endeavor looked up at what was left of the place while the other man looked down at the ruble under their feet. "Come on, dwellings no fun. Take number one home, I'll find a motel or something" the small man spoke. Waving off their worry. He dug his hands in his pockets then started heading to his gate. Seeing the burn marks let on the inside.

"I don't think that's wise, not because your feathers still haven't grown back but I don't think its a good idea for any hero to be wondering on their own right now" Jeanist told, his voice slightly muffled by his collar. "Hakamada is right, it's not a good idea for anyone to be alone right now" Endeavor echoed, crossing his arms over his chest. The blond in front of them just smiled, hiding his reaction to their concern. "Aw you worry about me that much big guy" Hawks joked. Instead of his usual reaction to the man jokes, number one glanced to the side. A memory playing in his head of the three of them in Jeanist's car. They were fallowing a petty criminal, searching for any trouble along the way. As usual the large man was seated in the back. With the smaller hero beside him. His rough hands laid on a laptop keyboard, unmoving as the blond snored silently. His head rattling against the window, his oxygen mask hiding his face. Endeavor remembered thinking it was the first time he had seen the man sleep since he left the hospital. His makeup long gone, showing bruises on his face from the recent battle. A growing tiredness form on his skin. The expression changed drastically as the blond jolted awake. Eyes blowing wide as eh tossed the laptop. With no warning he pushed open the door of the moving car and barreled out. The movement so fast the other two barely had time to react. Jeanist hit the break and swerved the car by accident. Endeavor put the lap top on the now empty seat then hoped out of the car himself. To late he concluded. The blond had torn off his mask and was now vomiting on the ground. Shaking as he held his knees. It was a jarring scene for both hero's having to watch. Waiting for their college to finish empty his stomach until they could hydrate him. It was also the last time he had noticed the man sleep in their month long car ride.

Endeavor meet the mans golden eyes, the color nearly useable in the dark. No street lamp to illuminate them, just the hidden stars from the cities pollution and the dim moon. "Get in the car Hawks" he ordered. "Geez so bossy, aye aye sir" the blond chuckled. But it sounded so hoarse, like it was alot of effort to do so. The three walked back to the car. Trying to figure out what to do next.

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Good to see you! Always glad to get a Red Shoes ask! How are you? And thank you! I really appreciate that! I’m working on getting a little better each day!  BTW, how did you develop your art style? It’s so cute!

Jelly boys (RSaT7D)

Merlin

Merlin loves his s/o. Truly, unapologetically with his whole heart and mind. He thinks he’s not obvious but mage, please. He openly swooned over Snow White what makes you think he’d be different with s/o, it’s just a matter of whether or not they notice. Knowing that Merlin is aware he one very lucky man and that most wished they could be so lucky. And are willing to try their luck, regardless of his s/o being in a relationship, thank you.

Drama prince. You’d think he was campaigning for dumbass of the year sometimes. 

He’s not jealous! Why would he be jealous? It’s not like he would care some scumy person with no sense of personal space hit on (Name) and tried to make them blush. Save the baseless accusation for someone who cares, says Merlin as he wraps an arm around s/o and refuses to leave their side some time the offender has already left. The idea of it really. 

You mentioned Jack’s jealousy and that brings up an interesting point when it comes to Merlin. Jack is secure in who he is and where his relationship stands. Merlin has only one of those things, and it’s the latter. From what we’ve seen, the wizard has a lot of deep-running insecurities that are tied from his sense of self-worth. Sure, he shows off, says “You just got Merlin’ed” unironically and gloats over some of his victories, but give him a moment to self-reflect and he runs from himself. He spent an entire year as a dwarf specifically because he put all his worth on his outward appearance.

This applies to his s/o in that Merlin doesn’t see himself as enough for them. (Name) is amazing, look at them go! Have you seen them? Have you seen him? They deserve the world and instead they’re stuck with him. Unlikely as he is to say it, Merlin is genuinely frightened of the day they wake up and realize they deserve someone fitting, better. 

Out of the three, his is the one that needs addressing the most. Jealousy in general isn’t inherently good or bad, but that depends on where it stems from. Jealousy based on self-hatred can have long-term problems for all parties involved if left unresolved. Merlin wants to be enough. Merlin needs reassurances, enforced boundaries and uplifting praises for him to realize that they’re not going anywhere. 

Prior to this pivotal moment, his go-to method to dealing with awful people was lightning, possibly getting pouty about it. Nowadays he’s unfortunately learned from Jack that unrelenting affection is a fantastic way to deal with unwanted attention and my, if it doesn’t work wonders.

He’s a monster now. Slides up to s/o, arm around them, flirting with them as if the person wasn’t there.

Still gets pouty a bit at times and needs cuddles. 

Arthur

I have to be honest, Arthur’s jealousy was a pain and half to figure out because it is hard to pin down. A jealous Arthur is nigh-impossible to tell apart from a generally protective and chivalrous Arthur. Dwarf-form, human-form, it doesn’t matter - if someone he cares about is struggling to defend themselves and the other person can’t take the hint he’s going to step up between, telling them to back off. 

The reason it’s so hard to tell apart because even Arthur isn’t 100% sure what he’s feeling in that moment with his s/o. For all the self-hyping the F7 gave themselves, Arthur and the others seem to have exactly 0 experience actually being in relationships (he thought a slap was a gesture of affection this man hasn’t a clue what he’s doing). Getting kissed by a thankful princess is worlds different from building a bond with someone, caring for someone. The first time Arthur is struck with jealousy, he’s not at all sure what he’s feeling. He just knows his heart is gripped tightly, his blood is running hot, and that he’s not about to let some scumbag continue to be rude to (Name). 

Look for his reaction afterward. That’s the ticket for an outsider looking in to figure out something’s up. When Arthur is protective (about anyone he cares about), the second the issue is dealt with he’s first concerned about their well-being and then pretty positive about being able to protect his loved ones. When Arthur is jealous though, he goes quiet afterwards. He’s not mad at anyone other than himself, because he doesn’t know why he got so fired up and he views (Name) getting harassed as a failure to protect them. He’s sullen, but will make an attempt to hide it if asked about it.

The jealousy Arthur experience comes from the same places as his protectiveness. Concern and duty. The incident with Snow White being in danger by guards and his doing nothing has definitely left an impact on him and it’s made his concern for others, even strangers, all the higher. In this case, the person he’s worried about is his s/o and that adds a burst of affection into his actions he’s not used to being there. Duty comes into play in terms of his beliefs and morals. Arthur has a really strong moral compass, with ideas on what is right being pounded into his brain early on. He likely has a sense of what he should be doing in a relationship, and what his “duties” are to his partner. They’re not all bad, but they do need a reality check. 

He’s ashamed to admit he’s jealous. He’s not supposed to get jealous - Arthur trusts his partner! Yet, he can’t deny he hates seeing them being harassed.

Also, the childish, selfish part of his mind he pretends to not have can’t stand that some schmuck is getting their attention when Prince Arthur is right here, hello? Don’t tell anyone, he’s embarassed. 

Arthur doesn’t need much in terms of redirecting. A good reminder that his s/o is grown and will absolutely call on him if they need his help quells a lot of his concerns. Time in the relationship also helps - the more he knows and builds his relationship with s/o the more relaxed he’s going to feel. He winds up being the guy who will look to s/o to see if he needs to put someone in a headlock. 

Should he get pouty (happens to everyone really), this man is such a slut for physical affection, hand-holding, hugs, sweet peppering kisses that any combination of them will get him to give the goofiest smile. 

Hans

Now here’s an interesting one. Hans is like Jack in that he’s secure in himself and his relationship. He trusts his s/o like crazy, respects boundaries, has enough emotional intelligence to know when he needs to step in versus when he wants to step in and follows through on that. But. He dislikes people disrespecting his s/o strongly, has pretty quick strong reactions (he knocked out Snow White with a pan), and puts his foot down with no wait time required.

When he spots someone pushing it what’s a guy to do but inject themselves into the conversation? It’s hardly his fault the sleazo ran off when Hans grabbed (Name)’s hand and talked to them sweetly, all while giving the offender the glare of a life time. 

Oh yes. Hans is that guy. Sure he could try to be tough (like Arthur) or pretend to be tough (like Merlin), but where’s the fun in that? This method lets people know (Name) 1) is taken. 2) in a very healthy/happy relationship 3) has a boyfriend who is right there and 4) their boyfriend will use a shield as a weapon if need be. It’s foolproof!

...Well, almost foolproof, save for the part where Hans decides to not talk about his feelings. Emotionally intelligent when it comes to others, Hans himself is not good about expressing his emotions. (Name) was the one who had to deal with that offender for so long, they’re the ones who were actually affected by the offender’s actions, Han’s feelings should be on the back burner then! This thought process is flawed. He views himself as the caretaker and not as someone to be cared for like he does for others, and that mindset is going to lead to a lot of bottled feelings if not dealt with early on. 

What Hans needs is honesty. Direct confrontation on this, because he will try to skirt around the issue instead of talking it out if possible. Once the direct communication is had, it’s a long journey of learning to be vulnerable, validation of feelings, and understanding what a relationship of equal give-and-take looks like that leads to him bettering his response to jealousy. 

Hans still is the guy who smoothly cuts in, but nowadays its followed up by a dual session in the kitchen where the both of them can get frustrations out by kneading some dough. Nothing like the promise of warm tasty bread to distract from the offenders from earlier. Along with floury kiss marks on the cheek. It’s the one time he doesn’t mind a mess in the kitchen. 

[outcast-thingz]

Hello, my lovelies! I'm not going to lie, I'm really nervous about posting these stories... but hey, you miss every ball you don't swing at right?

Pairing: Tsukishima X femReader

Summary: You've had a crush on Tsukishima for the longest time and your friends know this. You thought you were pretty obvious but apparently not since he got a girlfriend and it wasnt you. Who needs that tall blonde idiot anyways it's not like you life depends on him liking you back. Right? Sure, but it still hurts...

Warnings: fluff, angst

~You Dummy~

‘At least it’s all about you-ou-ou-ou-oooo~; I think the blondes are done with fun; At least it's all about you-ou-ou-ou-oooo~ ; I think the blondes are done; we're all too cool for fun’

       《 "Hey Tsuki~!" You greet the tall blonde. He shoots you glare for the nickname.

"Don't call me that, Shorty" he jokingly retorts

"Fine, sky tower" you shot him back a glare. You stick your tongue out playfully and giggle while he smirks rolling his eyes at your childish antics. A sigh and familiar voice came from behind you,

"Sometimes you two worry me. I can't tell when you guys are actually angry with each other." It was Yamaguchi.

"And hello to you too." You greeted. The three of you start walking to lunch. "If you really can't tell just listen to the names. If you hear our real name you know we're angry. Me saying Tsuki  doesn't count because it's a shortened version therefore still a nickname." You clarified, "isn't that right tree top?" 

"Whatever Halfpint" he rolled his eyes playfully. The boys start walking to lunch with you skipping beside them.》

       BRRRRRING. The sound of the bell startling you awake. You let out something resembling a chuckle at your own stupidity for thinking it was real. It’s been a month since you two had your fight and he seems to have forgotten your existence. Whenever you’re around him he will look everywhere but you and if you try to talk to him his only responses are ‘mhmm’, silence, or he changed the subject. You shook your head and slapped your face to pull yourself out of these thoughts. Other students stared in concern,

“y/n, do you have anything to add to the class?” the teacher asked from the front of the room. You shook your head slightly, “then, please refrain from interrupting the class.” other students giggled and the teacher continued the class. Unfortunately, slapping your face was a fruitless effort because soon enough those distracting thoughts came back. You didn’t even remember moving to the next class let alone reaching the end of the day. When you came out of your haze you realized you were in the boy’s volleyball gym. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a while. What are you doing here?” Yamaguchi greeted. Your eyes weren’t looking at his eyes but rather through them.

“I don’t know… I guess I came here out of habit. I’m going to go-” You mumbled before a thought hit you

‘I go blonde when I'm sad, Blew motivation I had-’ you always went to him when you couldn’t get something off your mind. 

       “Hey, we’re about to start stretching. Ah- y/n, didn’t think I’d see you here shorty.” His voice called to you like a siren. One look at Tsukishima is all it took and your heart was a ship at sea crashing into the rocks.

‘To make my still-beating something, Not hurt that bad’ You couldn’t bear it, seeing that smile on his face. So, your gaze cascaded to the floor.

“Somebody looks happy.” jealously dripped from your words.

“What can I say pipsqueak, some things have changed.” he chuckled. It bothered you, 

‘How can he act like nothing happened? He’s been ignoring me for weeks and now he’s suddenly Mr. Sunny Disposition?’ a growing anger stirred itself in the aching pot in your heart. 

“You know for someone who’s been acting like I don’t exist you seem to be talking to me pretty easily right now.” you hissed. Tsukishima shifted his stance. 

“...Speaking of that, I’m glad you came because I wanted to apologize.” Apologize? aPoLoGIzE!? The pot in your heart bubbled with seething anger. He has no idea what it’s been like for you, watching him laugh and smile around some other girl. How much it hurt to see her do what you couldn’t, get that stupid blonde to like you back. The pain of seeing him draw further from you. All of those hurtful memories flooded your mind.

‘Haven't been home in some months, I haven't loved myself, Just watching friends online, Look like they need some help’

It was almost dizzying having these emotions, any emotion really in weeks.

“Pipsqueak?” he reached his hand out to touch your shoulder and you shoved it off. Tears ran down your cheeks, steam blew out your ears, and that boiling pot of poisonous anger spilt,

“Do you have any clue what I’ve been through!? You do realize you are the only person I talk to when something is wrong, right!? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about my feelings and do you know what ignoring does to someone?” He was left speechless.

“y/n maybe you should calm d-” Yamaguchi cautioned.

“NO! I’ll tell you what it does Tsukishima. First, it acts like a blade and it stabs you in the heart. A new one appears and makes its mark for each time you’re ignored. Eventually, you can’t feel the pain anymore because here’s a little secret about those blades, the tips are dripping with a poison called apathy. I haven’t felt anything but empty for weeks!” You fumed. “It's a horrible feeling. Being yelled at for doing something I thought was normal for us and not knowing why until I saw you and her together. And do you know what made it worse?” You lifted your eyes so that they met his. He stayed silent. By this time the rest of the boys had stopped what they were doing and were just as speechless as Tsukishima was. “If you weren’t ignoring something I said you would change the subject and it would always be about you.” You advance towards him. “It’s. All. About.” you jab his chest with each word, “YOU!” you bellowed as you shoved him. To everyone’s surprised Tsukishima almost fell. 

“Y/n..” He spoke softly and you could tell he was hurting. You could see him screaming he was sorry behind his eyes.

“I never asked to have feelings for you, even though I thought I pretty obvious with all the nicknames I gave you and how I would always lightly punch your shoulder and giggle after you told a joke or even how I joking called you a dummy when those rare moments something would go over your head.” a tear ran down your cheek. Nothing, not a word from anyone.

“Y/n.. I-” He sighed, “please if you just let me-”

“Let you what? It’s been a month Tsukishima, A MONTH! The worst part is,  I thought you knew…” you stammered. More tears ran down your cheeks. “I never wanted to be thinking this loud I never asked about the when, why or how; I wanted privacy, routine and everything between; While they're just finding me out; I never wanted to be thinking this loud.” You screamed. 

      The room was filled with a suffocating silence that would occasionally be interrupted by your sniffles. 

“..y/n.” his voice gentle but wavering. He reached out to wipe your tears,

“ No one cares how I feel but at least It’s all about you!” You cry as you swat his hand away and punch him in the chest. You huffed and puffed for a moment and when you look up to see the shock in everyone’s faces. When you finally gained the courage to look at Tsukishima again you too were shocked. You had managed to hit him hard enough that he stumbled and hit the floor. The damage had been done and there was no taking back what had been said. The bubbling pot was empty of anger. Its waters had been replaced with guilt, regret, and heartache. Feeling empty was one the but this? It was like you were drowning with chains around your limbs and a cement block tied to your feet. “Tch” You spun around and sprinted away. One foot in front of the other. 

“Y/N!” the others call out for you but it was nothing but fuzzy words fading behind you. One foot in front of the other is all that you mind focused on as your heart tied more cement blocks to itself. 

‘I think the blondes are done with fun; At least it's all about you; I think the blondes are done; We're all too cool for fun’

      Tsukishima knew exactly how you felt when you ran off. That feeling of the weight holding down his chest as he cursed and screamed at himself mentally while you were yelling at him. The punch was like a thousand knifes slicing through his heart. 

‘No plastic or paper can take her or make her; Shake from the fact she's my world devastator’

‘Get up… get up damn it.’ he scolded himself as she ran off, ‘Get up and run after her… You’re going to lose her forever.’ Yamaguchi walked in front of the self-disgusted blonde and extended a helping hand, 

“Tsuki?” the worry hit Tsukishima hard. He scrambled to his feet ignoring his friend’s hand.

‘You… I think the blondes are done; We're all too cool for fun’

“Y/N” Tsuki screamed out as he ran after you. For once in his life he let his tears fall as if for them to act as a symbol of his shame and guilt. 

‘I go blue when I've had; A break at home to breathe’ 

He screamed out your name once you were in his sights. It felt like you were a world away from him. Even so, he pushed himself further, faster, and harder with every step he took. 

“Damn.” he curses under his breath rain began to pour. It didn’t take long for the roads to get slippery and you found yourself slipping. You scrambled to your feet once again and continued running a little longer. The weight was becoming too much causing you to slow down with each step until you were at a complete stop. Seconds later you could feel Tsukishima’s arms wrap around you tightly. You couldn’t find the muscle to push him away, you just wanted to disappear so the pain would stop. “I used to crave a getaway, Now I don't wanna leave” His lamented, “I broke up with that girl a week ago because I realized I was only dating her to get my mind off of you. I pushed you away because I didn’t think you would ever like me back. I’m sorry, and I know that sorry means nothing right now but… I was stuck at home for some months, I didn't love myself, Before we sold out shows, Before I needed help…” His voice increasingly cracks and waivers with every word. He pushed you back so you could see his face. “I never wanted to be thinking this loud, I never asked about the when, why or how; I wanted privacy, routine and everything between, while they're just finding me out; I never wanted to be thinking this loud” They two of you stared into each other’s pained eyes. He leaned over and placed his forehead on yours, “I’m an idiot..” He admits as his tears roll off his cheeks falling onto yours. A giggle worked its way out of you between blubbering tears,

“That’s right... you dummy.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer so your lips could collide. He is happily surprised by this and decides to tighten his wrap around your waist so he could spin the two of you around once. Once your feet hit the ground the two of you stand there for a few minutes both in silence and in each others arms. To be honest, the two of you were lucky it was raining so hard, no one wanted to be out driving in that weather. There you two stood on the road. The rain softens but doesn’t go away. The lamppost turning on qued your want to leave. Fingers intertwined and swinging back and forth as the two of you walked home together.

“Were you really crying?” you tease and squeeze his hand once,

“Must have been the rain falling off my face.” he squeezed back. 

‘At least it’s all about… us.’

[cutiepisenpai]

Lose you(Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

While on a case of missing preteen girls.

What will the BAU team do when one of there own is taken hostage.

*Disclaimer*

I have not written creatively in years just had an idea and decided to go with it. I do not know if any of this is accurate medically or physically but I was having fun and didn't fact check. Hope you enjoy.

*Warnings*

Includes: violence, kidnapping, implied sexual assault, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, angst with a happy ending.

Garcia has an incoming call from Y/N.

"Hello gorgeous, what can I do for you? "

The sound she is met with is not the sing song voice of her friend, but the sound of screeching tires, scraping metal, a loud roar, followed by a louder boom. The sound causes Garcia to freeze in fear.

"Y/N?!!", Garcia yells. "Y/N?!, JJ?!"

Garcia picks up her other phone to call Hotch.

"Hotch, you need to get to Y/N and JJ I think there were in an accident, I'm sending you there coordinates now. Hurry!"

***

Before the call to Garcia placed.

"Don't you two want kids?", JJ asked. Y/N and JJ were heading back to the precinct after going to question a potential witness to find the unsub. All the while JJ felt that now was the time to question Y/N and Reid's baby plans.

"Of course we do JJ, we're not trying, but we're not not trying ya know." Y/N says a little exasperated."I took a test a few weeks ago because I thought maybe and it was negative, but I don't want to bring it up to Spence and get his hopes up until I know for sure."

Before JJ can respond Y/N sees a large truck heading straight at them. She makes a split second decision, she prompts siri to call Garcia at the same time she puts an arm out in from off JJ slams on the breaks and swerves. She's hears the sound of screeching tires, scraping metal, a loud roar, followed by a louder boom and everything goes dark.

***

When the rest of the team arrives in the scene shocked isn't even a word that can describe what there are taking in. From first looks they can't imagine how anyone would have survived in the SUV. The first thing they notice is the entire back end is gone, crushed and pulverized. The second thing they notice is the other vehicle is no where to be found, but there are a 2 sets of tire tracks one coming and the other going. When they see the front end they only see JJ in the car she is unconscious and bleeding. They get the medic over to look at her. While they take care of JJ the team is now on the hunt for Y/N. There is no sign that she could have been ejected from the SUV. They do notice the obvious blood on the drivers side and on the ground just outside the drivers side door they find Y/N's weapon and credentials. They come to the conclusion that she was taken by the unsub but for what the dont know.

***

Y/N wakes up with a pounding in her head and soreness all over. When she opens her eyes the first thing she notices is that she is in a cage and she tries to recall what happened. She remembers the headlights heading straight at them, she prays JJ is alright. As the begins to look around she notices the lights, she can see but it's dim. As everything comes into focus she notices the girls. The missing girls, 4 in total in individual cages on either side of her. Y/N clears her throat, "are you all okay?" The girls nod hesitantly."Why does he want you all here?" No one wants to answer her and they are avoiding eye contact. Y/N takes a deep breath, "I know it's difficult, but I need to know so I can help us all get out of here." One girl finally speaks up, "He elotrocutes us until we beg him to touch us." Sexual Sadist of course.

***

Back at the precinct the team is trying to figure out where the unsub would having taken Y/N and keep Reid focused on finding you instead of worrying. Looking at all the photos they failed to realize earlier that although not a preteen Y/N fit the same description of the missing girls. (Long dark brown hair, blue eyes, she is short and petite.) Reid is working on a geographic profile, but being in a rural area it can only help so much. The tension in the air is thick and everyone is on edge. Reid is mumbling to himself, " How could he have let this happen? Why didn't he go with you instead of JJ?" Hotch can see Reid breaking under the pressure and goes over to reassure him, " We're going to find her, but you need to be ontop of your game to do so."

Reid rubbing the back of his neck in exhaustion, "I just need her back."

With everyone now working together to narrow down the area, Reid is met with a memory from years past when Y/N first joined the BAU. (While working on a previous abduction case Y/N had mentioned if anyone in the team was to ever go missing she was the best option. Reid did not like when she said it, the thought of her missing made him sick to his stomach. Until she explained that because her dad was a retired FBI agent he was paranoid when she was young and had a GPS chip implanted into a ring she is never without, sitting on her right forefinger.) At the time Reid still hated the thought but now he knows how to find you. He calls Garcia to get your location and the team is on there way to you.

***

Y/N is trying to keep the girls calm letting them know help will be on there way soon. She has faith Reid will remember,sooner than later she hopes. It has been relatively quiet but Y/N hears footsteps approaching. As the unsub approaches he goes to grab one of the girls out of the cage. This prompts Y/N to jump into action immediately antagonizing the man. "So this is how weak you are?" She sneers, "Preying on young girls because a grown woman would never want you, would never give into you?" Y/N comments send the man into a rage. "Shut up you stupid Bitch, you'll get what's coming to you soon enough. Y/N knows that now that she has his attention she needs to keep it. "As if I could ever be afraid of you, you're pathetic, bet you can't even get it up!" Goal achieved, the man is moving away from the girl and over the front of the cage Y/N is in. "I'll show you just what I'm capable of!" He yells, before pushing a button causing an electric current to run through the cage incapacitating Y/N. While she in unable to move the unsub ties her hands together and lifts her onto a hook dangling from the ceiling. Lastly he ties her feet together and fastening the tie to the floor. While in her suspended state the unsub now takes the time to mock her. "Not so mouthy now. Are you ready to comply?" Y/N huffy, "is that the best you got? I've heard worse from 12 year old kids playing video games." The man now visibly upset pulls out a rod rigged to administer electric shocks. He takes a swing and when it connects Y/N shouts in pain. "How was that?",the man sneers " Do you want me to end your suffering? All you have to do is beg?" Y/N with her chest heaving, let's out a laugh " Seriously, like I said before is this your best? You're weak, pathetic, repulsive. I wouldn't beg you to kill me, let alone to lay a filthy finger on me." This earns her another wack as she continues to insult and demean him. And the process goes on.

***

The team arrives at the unsub's home and begins breaking down doors and searching. Hotch and Reid reach the unsub first. Reids eyes immediately going to Y/N's limp body dangling, as Hotch places the unsub under arrest. Reid runs over to pull her down but she is unresponsive and doesn't appear to be breathing. Reid is performing chest compressions while calling for a medic. After successfully finding a pulse the medics get her on a gurney and entire the ambulance. Reid insisting on riding along.

***

A few hours later the entire team minus JJ, unconscious but stable in her own room, are waiting to here from the Doctor. When the Dr. walks in he looks at both Hotch and Reid suggesting that since Hotch is the Unit Chief and Reid and Y/N are married they speak privately. Reid assures the Dr. that they all all family and its ok to speak freely in front of them. "She is currently stable, we needed to revive her twice. She has bruising on her arms, chest, and abdomen from the air bag. Also marks from the electric rod used. Her right forearm has some fractures and many cuts that will heal over time." The Dr pauses and looks to Reid with a questioning look. "Are you sure its ok to discuss everything here?" When Reid nods, the Dr ask if Y/N or himself was aware that she was pregnant. Reids says that he was unaware and questions the Dr's referring to her as having been pregnant but not still. The Dr explains that because of the impact of the air bag and the torture, Y/N had miscarried. Reid put that to the back of his mind for now, he'll deal with it later. Reid asks when can they see Y/N. This leads the Dr into explaining that although she is stable she in unresponsive and that at this time they don't know if or when she would wake up. This news causes me tension to run high, as if all the air had been sucked from their lungs. The Dr says for now only one person can go in. They all of course know it will be Reid and tell him they'll be back in the morning to check in.

***

After JJ regained consciousness and Y/N still unresponsive, the team returned home minus Reid and Y/N who was transferred to James Madison Hospital to be closer to home. Reid barely left her beside at the Hospital only going home to shower and change and only if another team member stayed with her. He didn't want her to be alone in case she woke up. A week and a half after the initial incident the entire team comes to visit. They're trying to keep Reid's hopes up. It's quiet everyone still proccessing what happened themselves. Reid breaks the silence with an almost sob, "I don't know what I'm going to do without her." His statement confuses everyone, not sure if there was more news he hadn't shared, until he continues. "If she never wakes up, what am I going to do?" Morgan comes over the rest a reassuring hand on Reid's shoulder, "She's a fighter, she never gives up. Not on anyone. So don't give up on her. She'll pull through."

***

2 weeks after the initial incident the team is just getting back into town from a case. Spencer stayed behind offering support over the phone but still not leaving the hospital. The team shows up obviously exhausted just getting back from a case and short two people. They come in and find some seats. Reid is sitting next to Y/N with his hand wrapped around hers. And they begin to tell there favorite stories about Y/N. After the rest of the team tells there stories they all looks at Spencer expectedly. He has too many great stories but his favorite is the day they met. Many years before when Reid was in the FBI academy on sunny Saturday afternoon, here he was sitting in a bookstore in Georgetown when a beautiful girl approached him. She looked nervous before she spoke and asked if she could ask a favor of him. Sweet Spencer Reid of course he would want to help. There was a book she had been searching for and had asked the employees so many times earlier when she couldn't find it she didn't want to bother them again. She had eventually found the book not only in the wrong section but too high up for her to reach. Spencer happily grabbed the book from the high shelf to hand to her. Her face light up like a Christmas tree to his kind gesture and she offered to buy him coffee to repay him for the good dead. He declined saying it wasn't necessary for her to repay him but he would like to get coffee with her. As he is telling the story it was the first time in 2 weeks the team had seen him smile. It uplifted all of their spirits. Now making jokes, laughing and crying from laughing so hard. Amongst the commotion, none of them realized Y/N eyes were open and she was now looking around confused. It wasn't until she spoke that it became dead silent, "I'm not dead right? The afterlife cannot be this loud?" More of a comment than a question this caused everyone other than Reid to break out in more laughter. Reid with tears in his eyes was so overcome with joy he couldn't do anything except embrace her. "I thought I was going to lose you." He whispered in her ear. Y/N chuckled and she ran a hand through his hair, " Lose me? And where would I go without you."

[lukatheselkie]

HMC - Pirates and Mermaids AU

@hetaliamondaychallenge

The amount of research that went into the thought “What if Sweden is (selectively) mute and uses sign language?” is just UGH. Europe’s recorded use of sign language is very lackluster until the 1750′s, and honestly it’s still sparse then. Because I wrote the beginning of this to be at the end of the Golden Age of Piracy, I needed time-appropriate sign language. I spent roughly an hour trying to find it. On the bright side, I now know that Swedish Sign Language likely descended from Old British Sign Language, which is why I use (a form of) it in this. Technically, its use wasn’t recorded until 1760, but I imagine they were using a form of it before then. Cited: “...there is solid evidence that deaf people in Britain were signing as early as in the 16th century...” So, I just gave it a (probably inaccurate) name. I had to. You’ll see why. I do not claim this is the name used at the time. I also used time-appropriate measurements.

Fun Fact: Swedish Sign Language didn’t exist until 1800. And it’s currently an endangered language, which is really sad. It’s so beautiful. (Seriously, go look up Swedish Sign Language on YouTube. I recommend watching song translations. They’re captivating. Try Tommy Krångh if you go the song route.)

Ship: SuFrUk (Sweden/England/France)

I’m most definitely turning this into a longer story! This is just highlights, I’ll be adding in more detail as I create chapters.

    Arthur grimaces when his ship creaks, shifting in the direction of the net his crew cast moments ago. It isn’t an uncommon occurrence, being this far from shore. They often catch larger fish with the net they had stolen from a fishing boat. It feeds them well for a few days, so it’s worth the mess, but the ship tilting and moving everything that isn’t tied down is always obnoxious. “Pull it up! Now!” He doesn’t even give them a second before snapping at them again. “Faster! Don’t let it get away!” There’s not much of a chance of it getting away though. Not unless it has sharp teeth, like a shark. Even then, they panic so much it’s difficult for them to escape. But his crew doesn’t know that. And if any of them do, they don’t dare defy his orders. The net comes out of the water, and he frowns. That’s not a fish. That’s…

    “Move! Don’t let its stingers touch you!” Everyone in the line of the moving net runs as far away from it as they can. Thankfully, no one gets stung. Once the net is mostly done swaying, Arthur storms up to the knot holding it and unties it quickly. He’ll wait for the stupid jellyfish to die before tossing it back into the ocean to be eaten by something stupid enough to try. There’s no good meat on it. He steps up next to it and pokes it with his foot, careful not to let it touch any of his skin. It’s huge. The tentacles are roughly three fathoms (18 ft/548.64cm) long, from what he can tell. They’re in a tangled mess he doesn’t envy. They remind him a bit of a lion’s mane.

    The creature moves, forcing him to take a few steps back or risk getting stung. Incredibly, a man sits up from within the tangle, not an injury on him. He blinks, looking around in confusion. His face goes pale and he reaches out for the tentacles frantically, pulling them up around himself. He doesn’t appear to be hurt by them. Arthur takes a cautious step closer, intrigued. “Who are you?” He can feel the eyes of his crew on him. The man drops his armload, and his shoulders move up and down in what appears to be a sign, though there’s no noise paired with it. Or maybe he’s not close enough to hear it? There’s not a single mark on him, despite what he did. It becomes apparent to Arthur he’s part of the jellyfish. But how? “What are you?” The man starts moving his hands at an incredibly fast pace, eyes darting around frantically. “I can’t understand you. Can you speak?” He shakes his head, then goes back to moving his hands.

    It takes Arthur a few minutes of watching closely to realize it’s sign language. The… jellyfish is repeating the same phrase, over and over and over. He focuses harder on the signs, recognizing some. It’s been a few years since he used sign language, so he’s a bit rusty. But what are the chances this creature would know his?

    “Want… let… go.” Ah.

    “You want us to let you go? I can’t do that. Look at you! You’re a wonderful discovery. No one will believe us without a specimen. And that’s you.” He wiggles a bit, and some of his tentacles lash out at Arthur. He steps back in time for them not to hit his face, but they do manage to hit his hands. He clenches his jaw at the pain, wishing he was wearing his gloves. He hears swords being drawn behind him. “Put them away,” he growls out, glaring at the jelly-man. “No one is to touch him unless told to. We want him alive. Now leaves us alone. Go to the lower decks and prepare a place for him.” His crew hurries to do as they’re told. He looks back at the man. “What’s your name?”

    “B-E-R-W-A-L-D.” He signs out the letters begrudgingly.

    “Thank you for cooperating. If you keep doing that, I will promise you no harm will come to you. But only if you aren’t difficult.” He fumbles around in a barrel for a moment for something to wrap his hands with. “If that happens, I will not sell you like I currently intend to. I will protect you.” He wraps his hands in some bandages he finds, then glances up at Berwald. He’s signing again, still frantic in his movements. “It has been some years since I last practiced. Go slower.”

    “...Going with you? Where will… stay?” It’s still difficult to make out everything, but there’s enough for him to be mostly confident in what he’s saying.

    “I’ll have something made for you.” He racks his brain quickly for ideas. He could always use the Roman way. “I’ll have a large pond made for you, supplied with fresh seawater anytime you wish. But that’s only if you aren’t troublesome. Keep that in mind before you do anything.” Berwald nods, then looks around the ship calmly. At least he’s accepted he’s not leaving. There’s so many unanswered questions though! Perhaps he’ll answer some. “As long as we’re answering questions, I have a few for you. If they make you uncomfortable, you do not have to answer. I do not have to know. I am only curious. Answer slowly, if you do. I am still recalling some signs. What are you? Where did you come from? Did you have a home? A family? How come you don’t sting yourself?” Berwald furrows his brows, then lifts up his hands hesitantly. After a moment, he starts signing.

    “...A version of what humans call merfolk. ...Came from the coast of Sweden. Where… now? ...Didn’t have what humans consider a home. Just the ocean. ...Drifted from my family years ago. We don’t keep in touch. Would it make sense for a jellyfish to be able to sting itself? That’s why… don’t. ...May be human in appearance, but… not.” Arthur frowns slightly at his answers. No family? What a lonely existence.

    “You are close to England. That’s where you’ll be taken back to. If you’re from Sweden, why do you know British Sign Language?”

    “It’s the only thing I could learn.” Finally Arthur recognizes all of the signs.

    “I suppose that makes sense. Sign Language isn’t very well distributed. Why did you learn it though? You aren’t deaf. You can understand me too well.”

    “You are correct. I am not deaf. However, I am mute. I do not wish to speak of why, so please do not ask.” That’s curiosity-inducing. But he’ll obey his wish.

    “Alright. You do not have to tell me, but if you ever wish to, I will listen. Watch?” Berwald laughs quietly, a noise that startles Arthur enough for him to jump, which makes him laugh even more. He must be selectively mute, then. It makes him even more eager to learn his story, but he won’t push it. A thought comes to him, and he feels ashamed for not realizing earlier. “Do you need water to survive?” It’s a question he should have asked much sooner.

    “Absolutely. I am made mostly of water. But I can breathe your air, so I do not have to be submerged. I do wish I could have my tentacles flowing in the water again, but I know you will not allow that until I am away from the ocean. After all, I could easily swim away. Well, float away. It is very difficult to swim without the assistance of the current.” Arthur furrows his brows slightly.

    “It’s not entirely out of the question. If you are willing to be in the net, I can have my crew lower you into the water again. If not, I will personally bring you plenty of water below deck. I do not trust anyone on my crew to. They fear you. However, being afraid of a giant jellyfish is reasonable.” Berwald scrunches up his nose slightly.

    “I am not a fan of this net. It tangled me up. I would rather wait until we get to your home. At least I can untangle them while we travel. How long do you think it will take?”

    “I understand. It will take a week, at most. Usually it would be shorter, but there are a few more stops I wish to make before returning home. I won’t be returning to sea. I’ll have you to take care of.” Berwald turns his head away, hiding his smile. He was worried about the selling comment, but now he knows it’s not true. Not if he’s already planning on taking care of him. He looks back at him, eyes wide.

    “What is your name? You know mine, but you have not told me yours.”

    “My apologies.” He bows his head slightly. “How rude of me. I am Arthur.”

    “Like King Arthur?”

    “Indeed. I am a bit surprised you have heard that tale. You know sign language and of our stories. How often do you watch humans?” Berwald flushes crimson.

    “It is a guilty pleasure of mine. I get lonely very easily. I miss having others to interact with. I suppose that is why I was so close to your lovely ship. It seemed so lively. I did not expect to be captured. Though it isn’t entirely bad I was. I got to meet you.” He gives an almost mischievous smile. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think the jellyfish is flirting with him. Perhaps he is. But it’s not obvious enough for him to comment on it, lest he be incorrect and embarrass himself.

    “That is true. As strange as it has been, I rather enjoyed meeting you as well.” He smiles slightly at him. “Ah, give me a moment. I will get my gloves, then I can help you to where you’ll be staying.” He hurries off, hoping his sleeves won’t ride up while he’s helping.

~ (Five or so days later)

    Arthur practically throws himself into Francis’ arms when he opens the door to his house. “Mon dieu! Arthur, you startled me! I’m happy to see you, of course, but you didn’t have to nearly give me a heart attack the moment I opened the door. You could have at least let it register in my mind that you were here.” Despite his condescending words, he wraps his arms around him lovingly.

    “I’m sorry. I’m just excited. I have something to show you. Come with me.” He pulls out of the hug gently, hands lingering on his wrists. “On my ship. I’m retiring from pirating because of him. We can finally be together without worry.” He presses a kiss to his lips, then runs off. Francis smiles, shaking his head as he follows. That man.

    “Alright. What is it you wanted me to see? You show up in the middle of the night and drag me to your ship, it better be something interesting!”

    “Oh, it is! I promise.” He turns around to press another kiss to his lips, then disappears below deck. Francis rolls his eyes, and opens the door carefully, being quieter than Arthur. He chases after him, laughing at his energy. When he stops, Francis does as well. A subtle movement drags his attention away from his love, and he gasps. There’s an at least partially naked man laying on top of a beautiful jellyfish in a wide but shallow trough, filled with water. Upon closer inspection, he’s part of the jellyfish.

    “How…? What?” Arthur grins at him.

    “His name is Berwald. He wound up in our fishing net when he got too close. Look at him! Isn’t he beautiful?”

    “Oui, and dangerous! How did he get down here?” His love smiles sheepishly.

    “I sort of dragged him here? With his permission. I was covered, don’t worry. Clothes are enough of a covering to not be stung.” Francis sighs dramatically.

    “I knew it was a terrible idea for you to be pirating this time. You’ve done it twice before, what on Earth was a third time going to do for you?”

    “Apparently, give me a giant man-jelly.” Francis groans softly.

    “Oui, I see that. Whatever are you going to do with him?” The man shifts again, and his eyes open. They’re stunning. Like stormy sea waves. Their beauty knocks the breath out of him. Berwald’s hands start moving, too fast for Francis to comprehend what’s happening.

    “Who is this? I thought you decided not to sell me? I do not want to leave you! You are my friend! Or so I thought. Why would you sell me without telling me? And in my sleep too!?” Arthur slings his arms out.

    “You’ve got it all wrong, Berwald! I’m not selling you. I already promised I wouldn’t. I won’t go back on my word. This is my lover, Francis. I wanted you two to meet. I’m sorry for waking you. I didn’t know you were asleep. I should have spoken to you before leaving to get him, instead of just looking at you. That is my fault. We are friends. And I was hoping you two could become friends as well. I did not mean to worry you. I apologize.” Francis watches a bit of colour return to the jelly-man’s face and hears him sigh, presumably in relief.

    “Thank goodness. Your lover, you say? Humans are strange creatures. Though I must admit, this intrigues me. Do humans ever have more than one lover at a time?” Arthur stares at Berwald for a long moment. What an interesting question.

    “I suppose they can. It is uncommon, but I do not see why they couldn’t.” Francis tugs on his sleeve lightly.

    “How are you communicating with him? What did he say?”

    “Ah, right. You don’t know British Sign Language. That’s what he’s using. He’s selectively mute. Don’t ask him why, he doesn’t want to tell the story. He may change his mind in the future, but for now, that topic is off limits. Is there anything else you would like to ask him? And he wanted to know if humans ever have more than one lover at a time.” Francis releases his sleeve, and steps closer to the trough. What a fascinating question.

    “Berwald, was it?” A nod. “Strange that you have a human name. What are you? Where did you come from?” The jelly stares at Arthur expectantly.

    “He’s a version of what humans consider mermaids, and he’s from the coast of Sweden.”

    “You two aren’t humans, are you?” Arthur mentally scolds himself. He separated himself from them one too many times in his speech.

    “No, we aren’t humans,” he says slowly, making sure to include the topic for Francis’ sake. The Frenchman tenses up, but doesn’t say anything. “We’re actually personifications of countries. I’m England, and he’s France.” His eyes widen slightly.

    “I am Sweden.”

    “Sweden…?” He’s heard about the countries that were mer-creatures, but he never expected to come across one!

    “Sweden? Are you Sweden? Now you having a human name makes sense.”

    “So your family…?”

    “Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Iceland.”

    “Wow. What are the chances we would meet?” Francis clears his throat quietly. “I’m going to have to teach you British Sign Language, aren't I?”

    “If you wish for us to be friends, oui. I do not want you to have to translate everything he says.” He gives Arthur a polite smile, then pecks his lips. “Please teach me.”

    “Of course I will. Would you like to come visit? I’m on my way home now. I just had to visit you and tell you the news before going.” Francis laughs.

    “Oui, I’ll come visit. Would you be alright with me moving in? Not immediately, of course, but after a few months? Maybe a year? Give you some time to settle back in.” Arthur’s eyes light up, and he hugs his love close.

    “That would make me the happiest man in the world!” He laughs, picking Francis up to spin him around. He places him back down, and kisses him again.

   “Mmm, as much as I would love to keep doing this, I must return home. You interrupted my beauty sleep! Have a wonderful trip back. Please be safe.” He kisses him on the forehead, then runs off.

~ (Two months later)

    The moment Berwald is in his large sea ‘pond’, he shakes his sore muscles out. He looks up at Arthur, and smiles thankfully at him. He propels himself through the water, doing his best to twirl around so he can see him in full. He struggles to the surface, grabbing the edge to keep himself up. Arthur smiles, taking note of the jellyfish bell flaring out around him. That’s something he hadn’t noticed on the ship. It’s maybe a yard and a half in diameter, including where his torso joins with it. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.” He nods, unable to sign because he’s holding himself above water. “Good. It was hell getting that made, and getting you in it without anyone seeing you. Thankfully, no one did. I will admit, at first I wanted to sell tickets for people to see you. But now, I want you to be a secret. I would have offered to release you back into the sea, but I didn’t want you getting lonely again. And… we’re friends. Don’t tell anyone, but I actually care about you. And I would hate to lose you. So don’t ever scare me by disappearing!” Berwald smiles fondly, and reaches out for Arthur’s hand. He squeezes it, then kisses the back of it. He pulls away, and looks him in the eyes.

    “I promise, friend.” The relief in Arthur’s eyes is overwhelming. He waves awkwardly at him and sinks back down into the water, just as Francis comes out of the house.

    “There you are! Did he make it in okay? He’s not hurt, is he?”

    “He’s fine, love. And no one saw. He’s safe here.” He motions at the tall fence surrounding the yard.

    “Good. I’m glad.” He glances at the water, giving a small smile to Berwald. “I made us some food. All three of us. Can we have a picnic? Then you can teach me some signs. I’m more than ready to learn.”

~ (1800)

    For the past few weeks, Berwald’s signing has gradually gotten harder and harder to interpret. Arthur always manages to figure out what he’s trying to say, but it’s incredibly concerning. He’s not entirely certain why it’s changing, though he has an idea. Instead of trying to figure out discreetly, he decides to outright say it one day when he goes to feed him. “Is Sweden developing its own sign language? Yours has gotten harder and harder to understand, and that’s the only thing I can think of.” He frowns, brows furrowed. He stays like that for maybe five minutes, before carefully lifting a hand to sign.

    “Perhaps. I am a bit upset it is changing. When it is done, will you teach me British Sign Language again? I will know both then.” Arthur chuckles.

    “You don’t need to ask. I am glad you want to know both though. Waiting until it has developed is probably the best idea. You won’t get them confused then.” Berwald nods, and slips back into the water. He lifts a hand up to sign at Arthur.

    “That is exactly what I was thinking. Now excuse me, I saw a fish. It must have gotten mixed in with the water when you changed it.” The Brit laughs, watching him chase after the fish. Maybe he’ll start gathering live fish to put in there with him. It might make him happier.

~(1850’s)

    “Arthur! Arthur, look!” Francis stumbles out the back door, newspaper in hand. “It’s possible to make larger aquariums than we previously thought! Perhaps we could have one made for Berwald? That way he doesn’t have to lift himself out of the water to communicate with us. We’ll be able to see him anywhere! Doesn’t that sound exciting?” Arthur places a hand on either shoulder, and kisses Francis’ nose.

    “That does sound exciting. I’m sure Berwald is tired of communicating with one hand. It is a good idea. I will look into it tomorrow. However, won’t you sit and have a nice meal with us?”

    “Oui! I would never pass up a meal with my two favourite boys.” He kisses Arthur on the forehead, then kneels to do the same thing to Berwald. A question the jelly-man asked years ago is brought back to Arthur’s mind. Do humans ever have more than one lover at a time? After a moment of thought, he lands on a similar answer to what he gave last time. They can.

~ (A few months later)

    Arthur tilts the barrel with all his might, nearly falling into the newly-filled tank when Berwald slips out. He heaves a huge sigh, unsure if it’s from relief or lack of oxygen from the nerves. He makes his way back to the ground, grateful for the solidness of it. He doesn’t look at the huge tank quite yet. “Francis.” He loops an arm around his waist, closing his eyes as he turns toward the glass.

    “On the count of three?”

    “One.”

   “Two.”

   “Three!” They say it together, and open their eyes. Both of them gasp, finally seeing Berwald surrounded in water from the side for the first time since making his acquaintance. His tentacles are billowing out around him, moving slightly with the gentle current they decided to have installed. His torso is stockier and chubbier than they thought, but neither is complaining. His shoulders are broad, and his arms long and toned. His blonde hair shimmers in the light refracting through the water from the ceiling of the building. He’s an absolutely stunning sight.

    “Goodness, Arthur! He’s beautiful!” Francis steps closer to the glass, placing his hand on it gently.

    “He is.” He walks up next to his love, but doesn't touch the glass. Berwald lets himself sink to the bottom, and places his hand where Francis’ is. He smiles brightly at them, eyes crinkling at the edges because of it. “Very beautiful. Berwald, can you hear us?” He laughs, a sound that, surprisingly, reaches their ears.

    “Yes! I can hear you better than I could before! It’s like I’m back in the ocean! Except I have friends to keep me company! And human food to eat! I couldn’t be happier! Thank you!” His expression is full of excitement as he signs.

    “You’re very welcome, dear. It’s the least we can do. You’ve been so wonderful and understanding. I’m glad we can bring you company.” Francis replies, placing his other hand on the glass. Berwald eagerly mirrors that as well. “You mean a lot to us.” Arthur smiles, nodding his agreement.

    “You do. Francis, is it time?”

    “Oui, I think so!” Berwald tilts his head slightly, obviously confused. He doesn’t pull away from Francis to sign though.

    “Do you recall asking me if humans ever have more than one lover at a time?” He nods slowly, confusion still dancing in his eyes.

    “Arthur and I have decided we both love you very much, and would like to ask if you will be our lover?”

    “It can be the three of us in a relationship. We’ll be more than friends. It might be a bit strange, but we’re willing to try. We love you enough to try.” The confusion finally falls away, and he pushes himself back from the glass. He grabs two of his tentacles, and focuses on putting them over his head in a shape of some sort. Oh! It’s a heart!

    “I love you both too. My answer is yes.” He smiles at them, bottom lip trembling slightly.

    “Please don’t cry! Even if they’re happy tears. You’ll get me going too.” Francis dabs at his eyes as if he’s already crying. Then, he grabs Arthur’s hand and presses his palm flat against the glass. “Show your love, Arthur. I already have. It’s your turn.” The Brit rolls his eyes, but places his other hand on the glass nonetheless. Berwald matches him, grinning. After a moment, he scrunches up his nose and sticks his tongue out.

    “Hey! Put that back! No fair! I can’t kiss you until you stop out here.” Not even that is enough to dampen his mood though. He’s over the moon with joy. Judging by the expression on Francis’ face, so is he. And Berwald, too. He moves his arm over a bit, motioning at Francis to put his hand there. He does, and Arthur takes his other hand. In their own way, they’re making a circle of love.

~ (Early 1960’s)

    Arthur never thought he would be thanking Alfred for anything, but here he is. Incredibly grateful to one of his inventors, for making a suit he and Francis can actually visit with Berwald in without fear of getting stung. Well, mostly. Their faces will still be exposed, and they need gloves and boots, but those aren’t too difficult to get a hold of. “Berwald! We’re coming!” Francis laughs, grabbing him by the waist.

    “You’re too excited, mon cher. You might startle him. Take a few deep breaths to calm down before entering the water with him. I’ll count. Let’s start with five. One.” Arthur takes a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing it. “Two.” He feels himself relaxing slightly as he holds this one. “Three.” His muscles untense, though he was unaware they were. “Four.” His excitement becomes a dull ache. “Five.” Now it’s no longer an ache, more like a happy memory. “Better?” He nods, then kisses him in thanks.

    “I’m sorry. I’ve just wanted to be close to him for so long.”

    “As have I. But he is still part animal. He has those instincts. We should try our hardest not to spook him, oui?”

    “You’re right. I should have thought of that.”

    “Nonsense. You’re excited. That’s completely fine. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed. Are you ready?” He nods, and starts climbing the ladder up to the top of the tank. Francis follows close behind. He doesn’t get in the water yet, despite drawing Berwald’s curiosity. He sits on the rim, smiling down at him.

    “We’re coming in. Finally, we get to be by your side. We’ll have to come to the surface for air quite often though, so could you stay near the top? If that’s possible. I know the current circulates the entire tank.” He nods, looking just as excited as Arthur feels. Francis sits next to him, and squeezes his hand.

    “Ready?”

    “Ready.” They look at each other, count to three together, and slide into the water after taking a deep breath. The goggles were a good call. They may not be perfect, but they’re much better than without them. Berwald struggles against the current to swim toward them, desperation in his eyes. They meet in the middle, and practically melt into one another. By the time Francis goes to pull away for a breath, they breach the surface. Apparently Berwald got them closer without either realizing.

    “Merci,” Francis practically whispers, lost in his eyes. Arthur nudges him lightly. “Ah, oui! Berwald, may I kiss you? You’ve seen Arthur and I do it bef-” He presses his lips to Francis’ tenderly, effectively silencing him. The Frenchman closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around his neck. After maybe two minutes, they pull away from each other. Berwald looks at Arthur with a questioning expression. He rolls his eyes, pecks a pouting Francis on the lips, then kisses the Swedish man lovingly. Berwald must be counting, because he pulls away at nearly the same time as he did from Francis.

    “You are both wonderful at that. I am very grateful to have you. You have taught me so many things, and with those clothes, you can teach me more. Thank you so much. I love you.”

    “I love you too,” they say in sync. Then, looking at each other, “And you!” They laugh, and kiss each other. Berwald presses his nose to Arthur’s cheek when they part, and kisses him again. He does the same to Francis when their kiss is over. His heart is so full yet so light. He’s never felt this way before. He loves it. Almost as much as he loves Arthur and Francis.