#i mean you cleary have no life get away from me

[biscuitboba]

Not to be crazy about luffy (and zoro) again, but i actually can't stop thinking about luffy and the way he values the people that he holds dear? I think that the more luffy loves someone, the greater the support and respect he will give to the person's ambition.

Remember how a person's dream or ambition is a very integral part of one piece? Thinking about how luffy is probably the person who respects zoro's dream the most (and ofc vice versa cuz THRILLER BARK!) And i just can't-

With luffy we all know that he doesn't really mind dying if it means he's in the process of fighting for his dream, so with the whole zoro vs mihawk fight, luffy of course can only support (from afar) and watch his first mate fight the fearsome warlord.

No matter how much he worries for zoro's life, he just can't get in the way of zoro's dream. He knows that better than anyone not to get in the way of someone else's dream. And their deal (back in shells town) only strengthens luffy's resolve to let zoro face mihawk and not get in his way.

Luffy's concern for zoro is very palpable, but despite this, he stops johnny and yosaku from interfering, making sure that no one gets in the way of zoro's fight. That just proves how much luffy respects his first mate's dream. Like you can see that he is cleary frustrated, clenching his jaw, he is doing everything in his power not to approach his first mate and interfere. But after mihawk slashed his first mate, luffy literally lost it, and well... we all know the rest (he had to intervene)

Im sorry but god, zoro vows to never lose again, him pointing at the sky with his sword as he shouts his words... and of course the iconic moment where for the first time someone calls luffy by his future title, im not normal about it

Also mihawk acknowledging luffy and zoro's compatibility right away will always gets me, cuz honestly dracule mihawk, how???

Real talk, but what i love about zoro and luffy's relationship is how they acknowledge each other's strength. They always say things like "he is strong, he got this", "there's no way he is going to lose", "he will be fine", "it's him, no need to worry", et cetera... Like they have so much trust in each other's strength, that oftentimes they don't even feel the need to worry about the other person, because they are confident with each other's abilities.

But on the other side, sometimes (by sometimes i actually mean quite a lot) they can't help but to feel worried for each other. Especially when the other person gets hurt or attacked right in front of one of them. The worry intensifies when one of them faces a tough opponent or acts rather recklessly. And i think about that a lot.

Ok so, returning to the discussion in my first paragraph, about how luffy will always respect the ambition/dream of his loved ones. Especially if the person is strong, he will really respect that person's strength. A very clear example for this one is after leaving thriller bark and finding out something is wrong with ace's vivre card. The crew asks luffy about whether he wants to go after his brother or not, luffy replies:

Like we all know about how much luffy likes to brag about his brother's strength and also how much he loves ace. But exactly because of that.. luffy chose not to go after his brother at that time.

Now, not to make everything about zolu (who am i kidding? I actually will always make everything about zolu), but thinking about the way luffy put his trust in zoro to fight for his own dream in baratie, and the way luffy feels confident enough to fall asleep for a minute during the fight with big mama and kaido... because he trusts that his powerful first mate will be able to take care of himself, but more importantly, luffy trusts his first mate to keep him safe from danger. In this not essay i will-

[crazydaymycrazyway]

Song Taewon is an amazing character. But I kind of hate him. I mean, I get where his actions come from. Like, in the end it's for the safety of Yoojin. I hated how obsessively protective Yoohyun was of Yoojin. But it mellowed down somehow, and ultimately, he learns how to be protective without having to think if chaining up his brother. And Yoojin was also able to convince him to change his ways. But this man, Song Taewon. I understand how he is afraid of himself and hates himself amd think he's a monster and all, and I do feel for him. I kind of understand him too, like where it's all coming from. But like, it's for your own good so let me just choke you so that you know how dangerous S classes can be, and by giving you this trauma, you'll stay away from them. I understand there's a power imbalance between Yoojin and Yoohyun, and the S class brother can easily abuse the frail one. Taewon's right on that part. But his actions somehow make me think that he wants Yoojin to stay away and be afraid of his younger brother. Like, think about Yoojin's wishes here? Man knows how dangerous it is and he still chose to take the risk, because he knows it's worth it. And it's not like he was fairing any good without Yoohyun anyway. Drinking and smoking away, depression amd stuff (Eventhough it was mostly because of Yoohyun's later actions)

Song Taewon's like, lemme reduce the rank of your skill and proceeds to reduce the one skill that keeps him mentally sane? Like dude, do you know how many nightmares and trauma that fear resistance helps to keep at bay? I know he doesn't know it. But still. He did it so that Yoojin wouldn't come near the S classes and also so that the S classes won't salivate over his doubling skill. He felt the power and exhilaration and he liked it, it was addictive and he got afraid of it because it's hard to control his desire. But dude, it's Yoojin's own skill and he decides what to do with it. I understand if he was going around and murdering everybody or something. But he's literally what? Helping so that dungeon raids become easier and the society could be more at ease? Uprooting the association's corrupt parts? He's using his skills as he pleases without negatively affecting the world. And like, you come and do this sh*t? Who is he to decide this? For Yoojin's protection? Well congrats man, you just made his life more miserable. More nightmares, more trauma and anxiety. Yet he continues to do what he does, this time struggling even more. As if what he faced isn't already enough. You use your skill on another guy for his 'protection' but he cleary doesn't want you to, and you forced it on him. Like, dipsh*t, where's a person's freedom of choice here? What if the skill he deranked was one that reduces the pain he feels and what if Yoojin had some kind of chronic pain? Well, your decision to 'protect' him will cause him to go through hell! Isn't he a guy with self control? Can't he think?! I hated this about him.

But I do understand where he comes from. Doesn't make me hate him any less. It might've been the paranoia or something. And he might've thought it to be the best course of action.

But dude, if I had a dream of being a model, and my dad goes and says it's dangerous for you and there will be creepy people staring at you so you can't be one and forcefully make me chose another path, saying it's for my own protection, am I supposed to feel good? What about what I want to do? My freedom of choice? You can't just force me to do something I don't want to. It's not like I'm causing the society any harm by pursuing my dreams? (Just an example)

Song Taewon's a civil servant, he has duties and a very important role in the stability if the society. I understand. I also understand the inner turmoil he faces. But I hate him.

His dynamic with Yoojin and Sung Hyunjae is quite amusing though. I'm not shipping the three of them, I will never. But it is cute, like I'm introverted and unworthy of love, I'm a monster and the other two go aigoo, who's my little monster, my cuddly bug, you're so sweet, so big and intimidating but so cute. It's funny.

But I hate him to guts. Just my opinion though. I think his character is intresting and a little funny, but that's it.

[physalian]

On Establishing Authorial Intent vs Character Voice (Specifically, in tragic queer characters)

Coming in hot with another controversial topic.

There is probably a better way to phrase that so what I mean is this: Your book’s message and your characters’ decisions don’t have to match, and if they don’t match, and your protagonist has a very polarizing personality or makes very controversial choices, unless you state otherwise, your readers are going to assume that your character is your mouthpiece.

In other words: If I write, say… a gay man, as a cis, female, queer author, and I write him suffering during the AIDS epidemic, and I write this gay man fitting every single harmful stereotype possible. I write this character that is everything Fox News wants you to believe about gay men and AIDS.

But in the last ¾ of the book, the man has an epiphany with Therapy Speech where I, the author, reveal that I’m not actually a homophobe out to punish my protagonist and perpetuate these stereotypes, and my agenda is not, in fact, to bring the queer community back decades because people are stupid and won’t get to the end of my book to realize that…. Whoo boy, I have f*cked up as an author.

—

Have I dropped enough heavy-handed hints that I read a book that did exactly this? Not a gay man in the 80s, but a queer character nonetheless. Now this was a book that I had to finish. If I didn’t have to read it, I would have quit about ten different times throughout for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being very stiff writing that wasn’t engaging. The actions and thought processes and arc of this queer character were so insulting, so harmful, so off the mark, it was horrifying.

I stopped reading for a day and I’d already drawn all my conclusions and was not very nice in my feedback, but I had to finish it so I did, and the book addressed all my criticisms within the last 100 pages, out of 367.

Meaning: Anyone else would have actually quit and taken away from the book exactly what I did—that this was homophobic propaganda. “Oh but if you just make it to the end-”

Nope, not good enough. I read for entertainment and the book did not hold my attention. I need no more excuse to drop it for something better than being bored, and yet I held on through some nightmarish representation.

So.

How not to do this:

You are completely free and welcome to write unhealthy representations of any minority (why you would if you’re not that minority and not out to make a mess of things baffles me). Not every character has to be smart and well educated on proper representation. They don’t have to be a perfect Mary Sue that makes no mistakes and has no controversial opinions and does absolutely nothing that could hint at being problematic. That’s not what I’m saying at all.

Rather, that character can go ham, but you, as the author, must establish as quickly as possible that all of that is the character talking, not you. Whether it’s a queer character or POC or heck just a woman.

Have a dissenting voice (I like to call them harbinger characters) that serve as the author mouthpiece and is ignored and dismissed by the Problem Character. Harbinger says what the audience is thinking through the flavor and color of a character (so it doesn’t read as super preachy), trying to warn the character about the path they're taking, and Problem Character very cleary doesn’t give a damn about what they think. Critically, the narrative makes sure you know that the Harbinger is correct, and PC is wrong.

Have the PC acknowledge early on that what they’re doing is wrong, minimize it, argue against it, and attempt to justify their own behavior anyway. They know they’re the villain, essentially, and they just don’t give a damn.

Have an equal and opposite healthy character to counterbalance all of PC’s terrible choices. Different from the Harbinger in that they’re less obvious about their place in the story and just living life as that positive representation.

Give the PC a “descent into madness” where they start out a healthy person and through dramatic, understandable, tragic circumstances, they’re forced into this role that they’d never thought they’d succumb to.

Have the PC horrified at their own state of being but too hopeless to think they can escape from it. Have the PC know exactly how harmful they are, to themselves, to other people, and just convince themselves that it won’t get better, that they’re too weak or too afraid or too selfish, whatever.

Because I just rewatched these movies and they’re fresh on my mind, I’m going to use Caesar from the Andy Serkis Planet of the Apes movies. Caesar is your Jesus/Moses archetype: The Martyr. This is the paragon good guy leading his people out from oppression into the blessed lands of freedom. This is the guy with unshakable morals and a compass that points unfailingly North. He is the inspiration to the rest of the cast on how to act and how to be a good, healthy, moral, respectable person. He alone takes on the punishment meant for the group and is literally crucified, he could not be a more obvious paragon and Jesus figure of goodness and purity.

Until he isn’t.

Caesar’s “descent into madness” comes after humans murder his wife and older son, amidst an ongoing war that’s taking a toll on the ape community and his own psyche as they continue to lose numbers and ground and apes defect to the human side because of the villain Koba—Caesar’s foil.

He becomes everything he sought to destroy and his friend points out that he’s become Koba in all but name and his actions inevitably lead to his death because he is so consumed with revenge that he doesn’t escape the climax of the movie when he has the chance, and suffers a fatal injury. Caesar acknowledges this and basically says, “I know what I’ve become. I have to do it anyway. I can’t escape my own rage.”

All of this is believable and understandable and tragic. He was realistically pushed to these horrible ends by the story and we saw what it did to him.

The book I read had the Problem Character flip a switch because they were horny and thought another character was hot.

—

But once again I was faced with an author taking on far more than they were qualified to write, having a protagonist who identifies as a minority that already suffers enough prejudice and misunderstanding—a minority that the author themselves is not part of.

So once again because this keeps happening: You can and should write minority characters. You should not write the suffering of these minorities if you did not live it, because their suffering is not yours to profit off of and you will almost inevitably do it wrong.

[theballadofmars]

WHY GREGORY CAN'T BE PATIENT 46

In the last few months, I've seen lots of theories about patient 46 and what's clear is that no one really know who it is, but a big part of the fandom think that Gregory is a good candidate which... I have some thoughts about it.

Additional note: GGY is probably canon and that means that maybe Gregory IS patient 46, but honestly the only way for this to work its of Gregory is possesed and has no memory of what's going so. So, this theory still applies, because Gregory, as we know him in Security Breach, can't be patient 46.

I thinks there's lots of in game evidence which contradict this conclusion, so here's why:

Patient 46 and Gregory have complete different personalities. Patient 46 doesn't talk a lot, and when they do it or talk about themselves its described as objective, like they're telling things that didn't happen to them. They have fun when they know that the animatronics are acting weird, they don't like to go outside, they don't like the light, and they like masks. Now, you have Gregory: he talks a lot, he's sarcastic and makes jokes, he says "lame" when he got something of mr. hippo, he cleary doesn't like how the animatronics are acting, and he shows lots of emotion during the game, from fear in some moments to sadness when freddy dies at the end.

In addition to this: Gregory spents half of the game using a camara that can blind animatronics because of the flash, but he doesn't have problems with the light, wants to get out of the pizzeria, and he's also worried about the dissapearence that took place in the complex, which doesn't make sense if he was patient 46.

2. "Gregory is violent, and Patient 46 killed the therapist, so that's a link!" -> Actually, no. I think Gregory is a gremlin, but I don't think that his violent acts are unjustified. The kid spent hours inside the pizzeria with robots that are 1) Bigger than him 2) Stronger than him and 3) Are trying to kill him. His acts are more in self - defense that anything. There's a diference between destroying animatronics that are trying to kill you and killing your therapist because she's about to uncover something.

And yes, Gregory also kills Vanny in one of the endings, but again: Vanny was about to kill him.

3. Patient 46 is a hacker, but Gregory isn't. This was one of the things that made me be sure about this theory. Gregory is good with videogames (if the GGY that are in the arcades are him), he knows about animatronics and how things work, but that's the thing: he knows about mechanics, not about programming. He may know some things about technology, but programming is a whole different story. A mechanic or mechanical engineer will know some things about programming for their projects, but usually it has nothing to do with creating a virus or hacking a whole company. They just, can't do that. So, Gregory is a mechanic, Patient 46 a hacker.

In some parts of the game, Gregory has acces to computers, he could have made things easier for him, he could even acces the security protocols or open the doors, but he didn't.

4. Patient 46 is a manipulator, and the game makes you believe that they're the one manipulating Vanessa: they go to the same therapist, they had met Vanny and knows the technics of the pizzaplex. Gregory, on the other hand, is afraid of Vanny, runs away from Vanessa and also he didn't know the identity behind the mask. But Gregory looks surprised in the fire ending, and he also tries to save Vannesa in the Vanny good ending, which wouldn't make sense if he was the hacker:

If he was the one manipulating her, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't do that or hide everytime he sees her. Yes, Gregory lied to Freddy about the stolen parts and about his friends, but I don't think that was he trying to manipulate Freddy, and just a kid having like, the worst night of his fucking life and doesn't want to make his new robot dad and only ally sad or mad at him.

5. Who would bring Gregory to the therapist? Like, that's an important fact. Sure, maybe he could go by himself, but if he is in the United States, doesn't therapist charge like, a lot? How is Gregory going to pay it? Also, he's a kid, the therapist has to talk first with his parents or legal guardian, they can't just accept a random kid. Patient 46 has, or at least had, parents. That's stated by the therapist, but she obviously didn't know them. So, who is bringing patien 46 to therapy? And who's paying for it? Gregory, at least from what you see, doesn't have parents, but also I don't think a 12 year old could afford therapy.

I think that patient 46 had parents, but there was some type of tragedy. Now, he's in someone else custody, and whoever this person is, is the one paying for the therapy. Maybe to control de therapist, to have Vanessa under vigilance, I don't know, but there has to be someone behind it, a kid can't just do that (I'm not from the United States, so if there's someone who has better knowledge about how therapy works there, please tell me if I'm wrong).

Gregory, on the other hand, is more of a mistery. We see that he's homeless, or at least doesn't have a place he wants to go back to.

Things they have in common are:

·They like candy -> Lots of kids do.

·They have a rebel side -> But they show it differently, and Gregory has reasons for the things he do.

·We don't know a lot about their past.

In conclusion, for Gregory and Patient 46 to be the same person we have to assume that Gregory had been lying and pretending during the events of all Security Breach, even during moments when he didn't have to.

And let me tell you, if he really spents all the game acting, he deserves an Oscar, at least. But other than that, the motivations, personalities and abilities of both characters doesn't match each other.

You could also say that Gregory is a robot and his memory was messed with by someone, but robot Gregory is a theory for another day and I prefer to believe the little evidence the canon gives us instead of creating theories that gives us an explation at the expenses of what we see in the games. Maybe we shouldn't know who patient 46 is for now, or maybe we didn't conect the pieces together, but I'm pretty sure that Gregory isn't the one behind those tapes, and I needed to explain why.

Thank you if you read this theory, and I hope you have a good day!

[squidincsstuff]

Yeah, uh-huh, caliche

let's be honest, I can't get you off my mind

moving on and staying stuck is like I can just cannot decide.

We made the perfect couple because we're both

one-of-a-kind. Yes, no .well maybe. Should we give this another try?

I'm having trouble handling all these pictures I see online,

so I close my eyes and drift away and just wish that I was blind.

We might have work if we had met at a different time,

but we'll never know.

I've stopped looking for things I'll never find.

I'm giving this my all as I'm trying to follow my calling,

and as I am talking about the times I have triumphed, I have fallen.

I try to smile but I'm not the one who pretend.

Look, I wrote you a million texts I just never hit send.

I'm not trying to hear that I'm better off without you.

Cleary you don't understand that there is just something about you.

I don't have the time,

I'm busy taking an early grave.

I sat around waiting for something that never came.

I'm dead inside, as I exhale the coldest breath.

It's hard to accept the present when your life is so full of regrets.

At moments I just want to end it all,

diminish through the stress,

but God will whisper quietly that he's not finished with me yet.

But our relationship lately is non-existent

because anything I talk about, I fear he doesn't listen.

Am I being tested? Am I being heard?

The last time that I prayed I was yelling at the words

"f you and this entire concept and this idea of love!"

Take me back to how it used to be.

I like it the way it was back when everything was simple,

no responsibilities.

Now it's nothing but drama and honestly it is killing me.

Silent screams turn into Survivor dreams.

I always share my story but I'm as private as can be.

I'm staring at this blank page like fuck it, it can write itself.

I do this s alone so f it I don't ever need your help.

Forget it I don't need it.

The struggles that I'm dealing with there has to be a

meaning. Everything I'm going through there has to be a reason.

Failure is the only topic untilthe moment I succeeded.

I told you from the gate,

I would always be there by your side and even

though we don't speak, what I said, it still applies.

Challenges with bridges I have crossed,

it's crazy to think I can deal with

death better than I can deal with loss.

My listeners know me more than my friends do.

I've caused so much damage but I never really meant to.

I never cared about opinions from anyone else but people have more

faith in me than I have in myself

THIS is me I never plagiarized the script.

Learning to love myself again has been my greatest gift.

All these images of me and you, you and I.

regardless of what has happened, understand I truly tried.

You're one of the most gorgeous girls that I have ever seen before.

When it came to the attention, I was begging till my knees were sore.

I gave you a piece of my heart. You gave me a piece of yours,

until we parted ways, both of us thinking that we needed more.

Yes, I got you.

I'm the one to defend your back.

I will always be your number one fan, always remember that.

I'm giving you the vision of a twisted,

manic depressive suppressing my confessions,

masochistic randomly Pleasant Expressions that are essential.

My journey never was less than,

experiences, at first, convey it through my messages.

You're special. Don't let anyone ever tell you different.

I promise you these intentions were good and never malignant.

Be proud of yourself for everything you've fought through.

The only thing that these other girls

have in common is that they're not you.

so go and get everything that you want and nothing less,

because you deserve the world, yeah, you deserve the best.

These mistakes were only mine, and I own.

Before I feel this pain again I'd rather die alone.

You're the one of the most beautiful souls I have ever known.

I travel such a dark, hideous, gruesome, and lonely road.

I almost called you just to hear your voice,

but then I threw the phone, thinking "what's the point?".

No chemical could ever fill this void.

only you

'Cause you're my drug of choice

[stillhearyousay]

Notes about the Good Omen fic I'm clearly not writing:

- Maggie and Nina are the main POV

- Nina already believed in god tho it was casual but Maggie never has until now

- The girls want to help bring Mr Fell and Mr Crowley back together (even though they themselves are n o t dating yet, thank you very much)

- So Maggie's like how do we contact Mr Fell? And Muriel whilst eavesdropping says You're human so you can just pray to him!

- So Maggie prays to the Angel Aziraphale on Crowley's behalf while Nina flipflops between eyerolling and being absolutely confused as to how this is her life now, she just runs a coffee shop, thanks?

- Meanwhile! Crowley is doing his best to protect various humans from other demons. Keeps getting into trouble, he's not a fighter but he is very clever. A guy he rescues kisses him maybe. He gets drunk about it.

- And then Crowley starts getting into real trouble with Hell's minions BUT. Every time things get truly hairy he makes a miraculous escape. At first he thinks its luck but then he starts to realize. SOMEONE is taking care of his problems from far away.

- Aziraphale won't return his calls (or his prayers) but he is being a lil weirdo and silently watching out for him.

- It pisses Crowley off no end. And the girls catch him once or twice screaming at the sky. Old man yells at cloud

- There's eventually a confrontation somehow so that Aziraphale can make it clear that what Crowley's done (abandoned him) has hurt him deeply but he still loves him and he's not going to stop loving him from afar even tho Crowley clearly hates him. It's all very sixth-grade-girl-with-a-crush. And maybe he leaves before Crowley can get a word in edgewise.

- But then later, Crowley mumbles a little prayer while he's alone and drunk, something to the tune of 'I don't hate you'

- And then they have another confrontation where Crowley says "You made it quite clear you'd prefer me to be an angel! I'm a demon, I'm unlovable, I get it!" And Aziraphale says in a very small voice, "I don't care if you're angelic or demonic or-or-or even human. I just thought being an angel would make you happy again."

- And Crowley says, "Fuck you mean, 'again'?"

- And Aziraphale's eyes grow wide and misty. "Like before. With your nebulae, the ones that make new stars. You were so happy. I've never seen you like that, since you Fell."

- And Crowley, dumbfounded, says, "We knew each other?"

- And Aziraphale, cleary tormented by the knowledge that Crowley never remembered him, vanishes.

- And the second coming is a woman (duh) currently headcanon cast is that lovely actress with the deep voice, uhm quick google search her name is Shohreh Aghdashloo, and the main plot is something like Aziraphale and Crowley are working together Very Secretly though they still havent fully made up because if there's one thing that can bring them together it's their love for humanity and Earth - so they're like, hey Jesus 2.0, what if we show you around the place, before the Rapture? Would you like that? And she's like. Yeah that sounds nice.

- And the climax is this: Jesus 2 witnesses Crowley's love for Humanity and Earth and He-Who-Should-Be-His-Enemy Aziraphale; and she witnesses Aziraphale's love for Humanity and Earth and He-Who-Should-Be-His-Enemy Crowley. And she decides, I like where this is going. But before she tells the boys their plan worked, she needs to set them straight (hah). So she turns to Aziraphale and says, "You're an angel. You are endowed with the ability to sense love, are you not?"

- And he's all like, Yes of course?

- "And you differ from demons in this way, correct?"

- Aziraphale answers promptly, "And from humans as well, actually."

- She nods at him. Then she looks pointedly over to where Crowley is slouching, trying to look calm even tho he's frazzled with the attempt to save earth. And then she looks back to Aziraphale who has followed her gaze.

- She says, more softly and with a gentle smile and shake of her head, "He doesn't know."

- Aziraphale blinks at her.

- She tries again (infinite patience, that one). "He is a demon; he cannot just sense it. If you do not tell him, he does. Not. Know."

- Aziraphale's jaw drops. The breath leaves his lungs. He stares at Crowley for a long time trying to find the words. Finally he shrugs and walks over to him.

- He's nearly in tears.

- "I love you." He takes a deep, shuddering, wet breath. "I've been so stupid. I can't believe I didn't realize you didn't..." He sniffles, then flings his hand toward Crowley. "How could you not know!"

- Crowley is looking at Jesus 2.

- "What the hell'd you do to him," he says, a bit angry, suspecting some trick.

- She blinks at him and carefully does not laugh. "I didn't do anything to him. I reminded him about something he seemed to have forgotten, is all."

- Crowley looks back down at Aziraphale. "Don't- don't do that," he says to Aziraphale. "Don't cry. Please. I'm not..."

- He does a double-take.

- "Did you say...?"

- "Yes!" Aziraphale practically shouts, wiping at his eyes. "I love you. I love you. You idiot."

- Crowley sits on this information for multiple long moments. Then he says.

- "You don't mean it like that... because, I mean, angels've gotta love everybody, haven't they?"

- And Aziraphale has had ENOUGH.

- "YOU!" he shouts, then grabs Crowley's collar and drags him down to kiss him. It's a mean kiss, meant to make a point, and Crowley is very very still, frozen again or maybe holding himself back. It doesn't last as long as their first kiss in the bookshop - Aziraphale has to pull away to finish saying what he needs to say. "I choose to love you," he says furiously, still holding Crowley close by the front of his jacket. "It isn't passive. It feels nothing like what I feel for humans, or other angels, or..." His courage falters. "Or anything else," he finishes in a whisper, looking into Crowley's eyes.

- Crowley stares back.

- Then he leans ever so slightly forward... and kisses Aziraphale again. A quick peck, and Aziraphale returns it before Crowley pulls back.

- Crowley's mind is on autopilot at this point, so he says, "I love you too. Guess you knew that already. Hah."

- "Well done!" says Jesus 2, and they both flinch. "All right, I'm tired of being here. I'm gonna go back upstairs and relax for a bit. Let's say, see you in a hundred million years?"

[idv-ask-the-showman]

Flynn was taking a back when Pearce kneeled down suddenly and grabbed his hands, that cleary the last thing he thought Pearce would do let along even take pity on him as well. Flynn can hear the many voices in side his head along side with sanity telling him to slap the hand away and defend himself as if he in danger but he hold back, knowing those are just panicking thoughts with his survival instincts.

He listed to the older man talking and can’t help but let a bit of a tied smile draw on his face when he mentions he but a child… which is true, he is a child and that why it is so messed up he become the way he is now after being cheated out of his childhood.

“Heh… I may be a child but I know the harsh reality of this world already sadly, even done some unforgettable sins that a child at my age shouldn’t so don’t think I don’t get what you mean.”

He sigh just thinking about how those ‘sins’ would come to hunt him down one day and he already accepted it and wait for it.

“Besides you don’t have to feel bad for put your hand around my neck back then, I went through worst anyway as I said before and Sanity honestly deserved it so you good… If anything I am in a way glad that you get me, by how is so hard to have someone inside of you that make your life a living hell just for fun!… especially if there like more then one…”

He take his hand away from Pearce, not sure on what to even say anymore… Pearce always been someone that is mysterious to him, he just knows this guy struggles a lot no thanks to the demon inside him and that it.

“…are you doing okay now tho?… how can you handle HIM?!…”

Flynn approach Pearce but this time the his eyes and the look on his face says that it’s cleary the normal Flynn Pearce kinda knows and not the one he had the misfortune to meet.

He stand before the tall man, looking at him for a few seconds before let a sigh out and hand him a small bag of candies with a note attached to it saying ”Sorry”

“Here have this… I know the last time you saw me you had the misfortune to meet Sanity and he said some mean things to you but I just wanted you to know I don’t think those stuff about you like he does. I know how hard it is to live with a body with someone who’s keep trying to take control and harm others that you care for so I can get that it wasn’t entirely your fault… let along you have it way harder then anyone else giving the one you have to deal with is a literal demon!”

He put the bag on Pearce’s hand so he can hold it then just wait for him to do so, he not even sure if Pearce like sweets but that the only things Flynn can come up with as a apology gift.

“You don’t have to forgive me tho, just wanted you to know I hold nothing against you personally so stop worrying about what happened before, Sanity had it coming anyway.”

Of course, Pearce seemed to frown for a moment as the child approached. He wasn't keen with kids, more or less frightened by their imaginations. It took everything to the towering man to not say something that could result in harsh scolding.

God, he truly was pathetic, victim or not.

"Y-You shouldn't be apologizing... It's me who's done a-any wrong here... To wrap my callous hands around a child's throat is irredeemable, regardless if I was in control or not..."

Struggling for a moment, Pearce crouched down, sitting on both of his knees due to his weight and strain on his back. Folding his hands in his lap, the Shepherd fiddles with his coat, a look of remorse washing over.

"You're still so young, you may not understand it just yet... but I cant say what it's like to fight with your own mind, or a sense of self... I suppose we are akin in some way however."

Gently taking hold of the child's hand, Pearce's much larger hand squeezed the Knife Thrower's gently.

"Still... I find myself feeling... guilty. Perhaps its the increasing eight of my sins is here to crush me?"

[noshitbarnes]

imagine being so salty that you dedicate an entire blog to hate on, Earth’s Best Defender, Tony Stark.

i mean, how sad is your life?

[destinyc1020]

Yeah I’m leaning more towards that July baecation too after they didn’t get to see each other for 3 months. I really do think they are already engaged and have been for some time cause I just don’t see why Tom wouldn’t have proposed already like the way he talks about her you can tell how smitten he is I mean him saying that she has been integral to the success and happiness of his life and career and then out her talking about getting married and having kids and being a stay at home dad. I just don’t see him not having already proposed when he’s talking like that and Cleary very in love with her and sees her as his future and his endgame I don’t see what would he holding him back, cause it’s not like they have to get married straight away they can have a long engagement, I mean this guy is out here wearing multiple pairs of jeans with her initial hand stitched on the pocket that is a man that is not waiting to propose they have been back together for almost 2 years now and almost 5 years in total and are both 26 now toms not talking like that and not actually proposing. That birthday pic she posted for him I think was from that July weekend and he popped the question then

Yea sooo many things have been sus for a while lol. 👀

Nikki and Claire FINALLY following each other after how many years?? 😅

Kaz saying "Congratulations" on their post 👀

Z feeling way more OPEN about claiming her man

Z's birthday post to Tom

That Baecation in July lollll 👀

Them kissing so much in the car hahaha....

And I agree w/you... I'm sorry, but there's no way that after being together in Atlanta the entire time, and then having that 3-month break from not being able to see each other didn't make Tom think about the future. You can't tell me it didn't. Believe it or not, people get more "clear" on what it is they really truly want when there is DISTANCE. Just saying...

Anyway, with regards to timing, it's not even so much the TIMING for me. I feel like no matter how long people have dated, they should only get engaged if they feel like it's the right thing for them at this point and time in their life. Now, if you know that you want to get married right now, and a guy is shuffling his feet, then that's a different story. But if you two are perfectly comfortable with the way things are, and you know that you both want to get married to each other in the future, but just don't feel like being engaged for 2-5 years lol, then there's nothing wrong with holding off on an engagement until both of you are ready. So I really don't think it has anything to do with Tom if they aren't engaged yet. I'm sure they've both talked about things and are on the same page. 😊

MY reasons for thinking they could possibly be engaged already is due to some of the little signs I've been picking up on... not necessarily "time". JMHO 🤷

[bi-bard]

Devil's Last Stand - Winchester Brothers Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Devil's Last Stand

Pairing: Winchester Brothers X Reader (18)

Word Count: 2,840 words

Warning(s): mentions of birth, mentions of death

Summary: (Season 12, Episode 23) Everything comes to a head as Kelly goes into labor and it's discovered that the baby's dad is on his way there.

Author's Note: Okay... back to the OC. Here we go. A little bit of heartbreak. ALSO, we need to all show Courtney Ford more love. She does such an amazing job with this character and listening to her talk about playing Kelly is awesome. More love for Courtney!

Here's a link to other imagines involving this character!

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Comfortable.

That was the first word that came to mind when Castiel pulled up to the secluded house that he had found for us. It was a white house that was tucked away in the woods. Cleary old, but beautiful. As far as safehouses go, it was damn-near a mansion.

I got out of the truck and helped Kelly follow me.

She was right at the end of her pregnancy, which made me sad. She was such a great person that knowing the inevitable was coming so soon broke my heart.

Still, we fell into a rhythm. One that suited all three of us.

One day, Kelly was up in the nursery, and I decided to go outside for a moment. Just in the hopes of giving her some deserved privacy

Cas was looking out at the lake.

"Hey," I said awkwardly.

"Hey," he replied, stepping to the side so I could stand next to him.

"Any day now," I commented.

"Yeah," Cas sighed and looked down for a moment. "Do you think this is all worth it?"

"To keep the child safe," I asked. "Definitely. This is our only option, Cas."

"I know," he nodded. There was a pause. "Have you thought about what's going to happen when you see Sam and Dean again?"

"I don't want to," I admitted. "I... I'm grateful for all that they've done for me, but... they trusted the group that tortured me. I can't just follow along with their little game. I want to feel like I'm doing good."

"And you feel like this is it," Cas nodded toward the house. "This is you 'doing good'."

"I hope so," I nodded. "We have to try and teach her child to be a good person. I... We can't let Lucifer get to them."

"He won't," Cas promised before pulling me into a side-hug. "Come on. Let's head inside."

I nodded and followed him. I looked up at the house, "If I retire-"

"You're 18-"

"I said 'if,'" I nudged him with my elbow. "I want a place like this. Secluded and quiet. Can't be tempted to join the life again."

"Do you give retiring a lot of thought?"

"Sometimes," I shrugged. "I didn't ask to be in this life. It just kind of happened. And I love the people I've met through it, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to think that one day I'll find a normal person to have a somewhat normal life with. I'd like to think it's human to want love and some form of normalcy to be happy with."

"Normal has a million different definitions."

"And I just want one that fits my life," I pulled the door open and let him walk inside first.

He stopped for a moment, "When I saw the future... When I saw what the child showed me. I saw you. You and Sam and Dean."

"Really?"

"You had someone," he continued. "I couldn't see who it was, but you were happy. Truly happy."

I let out a sigh and smiled, "Thanks."

He nodded before walking inside.

We both made our way upstairs just as Kelly told off the IKEA salesman and threw her phone away from her.

"Kelly," Cas said softly, going to kneel next to her. I just took a few steps inside. "I told you. I'd put this together. I'm very good at following instructions and you need to rest."

"No, I don't," she replied.

"Kelly-"

"No, Cas, I don't," she muttered before he helped her stand up. "I can't."

She walked over so she could see both of us.

"I just... I don't know how long until...," she looked down and took a deep breath. "I don't know how long I have left. And I... I'm not gonna be able to teach them how to ride a bike or watch them get married or even look them in the eyes. But I can build them a stupid Swedish crib! I can do that!"

I felt out of place. Useless. I was here to protect her and help her, but I had never been through this. Cas had only seen a Nephilim once and that didn't end well. I couldn't any real help. Just a shoulder to cry on. And I hated not being able to do more than that.

I just reached out and touched her arm, giving her a sympathetic look as I struggle to think of what to say.

"Kelly, I know how hard this is," Cas spoke in my absence. "That's a lie. I have no idea how hard this is for you. But I promise you... I will do everything. I will give my life for your child. And I will raise them. They will never be alone."

Cas looked over at me for a moment and I nodded to Kelly.

"And they will be someone that you are proud of," Cas continued.

There was a moment of silence before Kelly replied, "I know."

"You are not going to go through any of this alone," I promised. "Come on. Three brains should be able to put together a damn crib."

She chuckled before wiping her eyes and nodding, "Yeah, okay."

After managing to put together the crib, we all loaded up into the truck for a grocery run. It was final preparations time. Food and toys and... a crap ton of diapers because Cas wouldn't listen to me about not needing a year-long supply.

He insisted it was the best idea because of all of the books he had read. Except for the book on common sense of course.

As I was poking fun at Cas's planning skills, Kelly leaned over and groaned in pain.

"Kelly," I said softly. Cas went around me to touch her back and support her.

"I'm fine," she muttered after a few deep breaths.

I caught sight of the gold energy glowing in her hand, but shook it off as I helped Cas walk her back into the house.

She made it back to the nursery with no other problems. Cas nodded for me to follow him downstairs. I looked back at Kelly for a moment as she worked on the art she had wanted on the baby's wall.

We walked outside and stood on the small deck behind the house. I furrowed my eyebrows at the small light hanging in the backyard. It looked like a piece of golden thread.

"What's that," I asked Cas, pointing out at the energy. He didn't seem to focus on it until I pointed it out.

"I don't know," he muttered, walking up to it.

"Hey, let's not investigate with no research," I said.

He circled around it before looking back at me. He looked back at it before slowly reaching out and touching it. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

"Cas," I called.

I took slow steps toward the light. When Cas didn't come back out, I took a deep breath and reached out to touch the energy.

I found myself in a barren wasteland with red lighting illuminating the sky. Cas was on the ground as some dude with some kind of gun walked up to him.

"Hey," I yelled, pointing my gun at the figure. "Back the hell up."

The figure looked at me, "I just saved his damn life."

I froze. I recognized that voice. Cas stood up and walked toward me. We exchanged a look as we heard him.

"Bobby," I asked.

The man pulled the cover off of his face, "How the hell do you know my name?"

I stared at him with wide eyes. He didn't know me, but that was my Bobby.

"I... I knew another version of you," I guessed. "He taught me to hunt."

Before either one of us could respond, the portal crackled behind us.

"We've gotta go," I mumbled to Cas. "Now."

Cas nodded and started pulling me toward the door.

"Goodbye," I called to Bobby as we left.

I felt tears fall from my eyes as I looked back at the portal.

"What the hell was that," I yelled. "Bobby... Bobby was there. What the hell is this?"

"It's... It's another world," Cas struggled to explain. "Another universe that God made. Each one has differences. That one... has reached its apocalypse."

I ran a hand over my face, "Jack opened it. Didn't they?"

"I think so," Cas nodded.

"I... I'm gonna go see Kelly."

"Are you alright-"

"I'm gonna see Kelly," I repeated, not wanting to think about the idea that Bobby was there.

I made it upstairs just as Kelly made a loop to look for us.

"Hey," I said.

"Where were you guys," she asked as Cas made it up the stairs behind me.

"Nowhere," I replied. "We were talking outside. Is something wrong?"

"No," she shook her head. "The baby, it's... I think it's time."

The lights flickered as Kelly groaned in pain.

Cas moved to support her. I helped with her other side, and we led her to her room.

"Everything's going to be fine," Cas promised.

Kelly got as I laid some cheap blankets on the bed. Again, I had no idea what I was doing, I just grabbed blankets that could be thrown away easily.

Hours passed as we waited.

Kelly was comfortable in bed. The contractions were still pretty far apart. The only light in the room was a lamp on the bedside table. Most of the power had been wiped out by the child.

"You're alright," Cas tried to promise. "The pressure waves are still very far apart."

"Pressure waves," Kelly asked with a chuckle.

"That's what they called contractions in my doula class," he explained. "I... I took it online."

I grinned at him. He was so prepared to raise this kid and he didn't have to be.

I blinked away a few tears and turned my smile to Kelly. I reached a hand to her. She grabbed onto it and smiled back at me.

"For first-time mothers, labor can be 12 to 18 hours," Cas continued. "Sometimes longer. It... Although, given this is the child of Lucifer and a quasi-celestial being..."

"They didn't cover that online," Kelly asked jokingly.

"They did not," he replied. She chuckled at him.

A silence settled over the room. Cas stood up and walked to the window. I stayed next to Kelly until Cas said my name.

I walked over to him. He dropped his voice down so she couldn't hear us.

"I don't care what you hear or what happens to me," he instructed. "You need to stay by Kelly's side. No matter what. Protect her and the child for as long as you can. If all else fails, she isn't going to be able to defend herself. Protect her. Protect Jack."

"Okay," I nodded. "I won't leave."

He pulled me into a tight hug, "Sam and Dean would be proud of you if they were here."

I grinned, "Thanks, Cas."

After stepping away, I returned to my spot by Kelly's side.

She grinned at me, "Cas?"

He looked at her.

"I wanted to thank you both," she said. "For everything."

"Of course," Cas nodded.

As the sun set, Kelly's contractions were getting closer and closer.

I could only hold her hand through the pain. Again, useless.

"Kelly," Cas said as he grabbed her other hand.

"Tell me again," she replied. "Tell me again what you saw."

"Right," he looked down for a moment. "I saw the future. I saw a world without pain or hunger or want. I saw the world that this child... that your child... will create. And it is a world without fear and without suffering and without hate."

He paused.

"I saw paradise."

Kelly nodded a few times before the energy started crackling again. She yelled in pain and clenched my hand tight. The power came back on.

We barely had a moment to relax before we heard a car pulling up outside.

"Stay here," he repeated to me before running out.

"It's gonna be okay," I promised, holding Kelly's hand with both of mine. "Everything's going to work out."

I carefully placed my angel blade within reach on the table and double-checked that my gun was in its proper place. I was prepared for all that I could've been prepared for.

I heard some talking downstairs, but it was overwhelmed by Kelly's next contraction.

I only let go of her hand when I heard footsteps running upstairs. Mary was standing in the doorway.

"Get out," I said angrily, almost spitting the words at her.

"I'm only here to help-"

"Get the kid to the British Men of Letters," I cut her off. "Fat chance. Get the fuck out."

"I'm here to help Kelly," she continued. "The British Men of Letters are gone."

I continued glaring at her.

"How much do you actually know about childbirth?"

I didn't respond, not dropping my gun. She had turned her back on me. Sided with the people who tortured not only me but also her son. She dragged them into it all. She drove a wedge in between me and the boys who raised me.

"Just let me help her," she begged.

But she was also right.

I walked forward a few steps so Mary could see that I was serious.

"One wrong move and I will kill you. I don't care what your sons say. Cross the line once, and you're dead."

She nodded, "Okay."

I stepped back to Kelly's side and let Mary start helping.

She got on Kelly's other side and grabbed her hand.

Kelly worked through another contraction as Mary tried to help guide her breathing.

"I think they're less than five minutes apart now," she explained. "It's almost time."

I reached over and pushed Kelly's hair out of her face, feeling her forehead for a temperature. Anything to help. That's what I had promised to do.

"How you doin'," Mary asked.

"I'm dying," Kelly whispered.

"I know," Mary replied.

"But that's okay," she mumbled. "'Cause wouldn't you die for your sons?"

Mary let out a shaky breath, "Yeah."

I was moral support for the rest of it.

Mary guided Kelly through each step. Breathing and talking and doing all that could for her. I let Kelly almost break my hand and rest her head on my shoulder.

"You're alright," I mumbled. "You're alright. Just breathe. It's gonna be fine."

I had no reason to believe that. I just wanted to trust that it would be.

Cas walked in a few minutes later, "May I speak with her?"

Mary nodded and stepped back, but I didn't move. I refused to.

Cas just nodded at me.

"What's wrong," Kelly asked.

"Lucifer's alive," Cas explained quickly. "And he's coming for the kid."

My breath hitched.

"We have a plan," he promised, walking over. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

He pressed a kiss to Kelly's forehead before leaving the room. Mary walked in a minute later.

"Ready," she asked.

"Not even a little," I replied with a forced chuckle.

"I'm sorry-"

"Mary, now is not the time."

Kelly let out another yell as another contraction started.

This was the worst of them. Mary guided her through, but neither one of us could be prepared for the lights flickering or the house shaking.

Suddenly, a wave of energy seemed to course through Kelly, stopping any pain she had been experiencing. She was glowing. Literally. She was glowing from the energy that surrounded her.

The last thing I remembered was Kelly freezing and whispering, "I love you."

After that, a shock wave of energy flew through the room, sending Mary and me flying. My back came into contact with the far wall, and I fell to the ground, unconscious.

When I came to, Mary was gone.

I stood up and ran to the bed.

I felt for Kelly's pulse. Nothing. I let out a breath and took a moment to gather my thoughts.

I grabbed one of the spare blankets and slowly laid it over her. The closest thing to a sign of respect that I could manage.

It was then that I realized... there was no baby.

Where the hell was Jack?

I took a step back and tried to gather myself again. They had to be here somewhere. They couldn't just walk away.

I grabbed another spare blanket and walked into the hall. My hope was that I was going to hear a cry or something. Some indication that the kid was here and alive.

I stood at the top of the stairs, trying to think of where to look first. Then, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. In the nursery, something was curled up in the corner.

I slowly walked inside, not wanting to startle it.

I froze when a floorboard creaked under my step.

Whatever was in the corner jumped and I was met with a pair of glowing golden eyes. It took me a moment for my brain to make the connection.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Jack?"

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

Maisie Peters - “You Signed Up for This” Writing Challenge Masterlist

[paimon-rambles]

hellooo, is the request still open? If it yes, can I request fics for xiao x doctor/healer female reader? reader is a normal human who is working at BuBu Pharmacy and accidentally meet xiao & traveler when they are injured.

tysm (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Sorry for being a bit inactive, I've been being feeling meh🤧. I feel like I dragged this a bit- I'm sorry.

Remedies

Characters: Xiao

Summary: It was a day like any other working at the BuBu Pharmancy-that was until an Adeptus and Outlander barge in

Icon credit: Leheia

-

You have heard many tales of the Adeptus growing up, many stories and myths behind them, of their culture and their play in the archon war. However, you never had the fancy of coming face to face to one- well that was until today.

You lived a pretty normal life in Liyue. Working at BuBu Pharmacy along with Qiqi, your work was simple and it gave a good paycheck. You're a healer, mending wounds from battle-scarred warriors, or helping heal an infection. However, you were commonly found handing out medicine at the front desk more than anything.

You often see familiar faces of previous customers that stopped by to receive their meditation. Occasionally you have met some more interesting clients however they were never too enticing. And you thought that was how your work life was going to carry on. A bag of medication here, a customer other there, repeat till next paycheck.

You were thankful to have Qiqi by your side most of the time although she wasn't much of the conversationalist it was better than having no one to talk to, even if you were doing most of the talking.

" Goodbye, thank you for stopping by. I hope the headaches stop." You said handing the customer a small bag of medication. You waved them a quick goodbye as they disappeared from your line of vision.

Unlike most days, it was only you behind the desk. Qiqi was busy with other responsibilities and you were placed in charge of handing the listed medicine to clients. Scribbling off a name on a clipboard, you leaned against the desk waiting for the next customer to arrive.

Earlier in the day, you overheard a few of the Liyue guards stationed near the Pharmacy buzz about a battle that broke near Mt. Hula. They didn't share too many details on the source of the outbreak as they were called over to focus on another anomaly, but you manage to piece together that it had something to do with a sigil of permission. Note to self: Don't piss off the Adepti.

A few minutes pass and you were still meet with the eerily silence of the Pharmacy with the slight sound of the breeze. You caught a glimpse of a few civilians but they showed no interest in buying herbs or requiring medical attention. For the most part, the city seemed rather deserted. Sighing you turned on your heel to go to the back room.

However before a second could pass, you nearly jumped as three figures dashed into the Pharmacy. One of the two strangers was a young boy who had golden hair tied back into a braid, his clothes were particular as well. Cleary this boy wasn't from any of the seven nations. An Outlander. Beside the boy was a pixie-like figure, she had white hair and carried a celestial-like cape. The pair seemed rather familiar, well at least from what you heard from Qiqi. A few weeks prior Baizhou enlightened you on a pair of outlanders that tried to buy some medicine without making an appointment. By the description he provided it matched the blonde.

The third figure intrigued you the furthest. He looked around the same age as the outlander and yourself. He carried some intriguing items on his person. He had short raven hair accompanied by green undertones, his eyes are painted amber, vicious yet mysterious. His clothing was also rather unusual. He dressed in a sleeveless white shirt, dark pants, and leather gloves. What was peculiar most was the tattoo located on his arm. It had a slight teal glow to it and the pattern seemed complex. It finally clicked to you. It's an Adeptus.

Before you made more inferences and observations, it finally hit you that two strangers just ran into the Pharmacy with no warning. Both men's skin were littered with gashes. Small crimson cuts can be found in the areas where skin is shown, the gashes didn't seem to be severe but still would require some treatment. The blonde's eyes darted to you in a panic. " May we stay here for a while? (Omg he talks)."

It took you a second to register what they inquired of but you nodded your head. " sure." That was all you manage to muster. The trio went to sit down, sheathing their weapons away. " We won't be staying long." The raven-haired boy said, his tone cold. The mysterious aura that radiated off him, intrigued you.

You were once again submerged in uncomfortable silence. Your mind was trying to piece together a question to ask both men but no idea came to thought. You could already tell that the Adeptus was judging you his amber eyes burned into your head. Avoiding eye contact you instead focused your gaze on the pixie. Her crown thing was pretty interesting.

Finally, the blonde broke the silence that threatens to consume you whole. " Uh thank you again for allowing us to stay here, we'll be out of here soon." He flashed you an innocent smile which soothed your worries but only by a bit. " You guys can stay as long as you want. I'll get some bandages for your injuries." You finally croaked out, turning to grab said items.

You returned with the material handing out a handful of the clothed bandages to each of them. You watched as the blonde slowly placed the fabric on the cuts that threatened to worsen. The Adeptus on the other hand stared at the bandages you handed to him. He eyed the items as if they were a foreign object, but his eyes didn't sparkle in curiosity- they were just dull. Does this guy ever smile?

" These can help with the smaller cuts. The gush wounds, however, will require something different but not to worry you came in at the right time, I can use my elemental healing to mend those injuries before they get infected." The raven hair boy broke out of his dull stare from the items in his gloved hands, his eyes now glued to you. His gaze felt like it was pricing through your soul, intimidated would be an understatement. The blonde on the other hand was more grateful at your suggestion, the pixie fairy, who you learned is "Paimon" even chirped her own thanks.

Your eyes glimpsed at the raven-haired boy, his injuries looked more severe compared to the blonde who you soon learned was " Aether" as Paimon called him. " I'll tend to your wounds first," you murmured to the boy. He looked at you coldly, his posture shifted as more tension built. " Your injuries are more severe... I.... I just want to help," you mumbled. The boy turned away in thought, his eyes squinting at whatever was running through his head. " Listen it's either your injuries become infected, which will be a pain to resolve later or you let me help-which will be painless and you'll be leaving with no infections." You added, you didn't mean to make your voice sound harsh but now wasn't time to argue. The Adepti seemed taken back by this, his brows furrowing at your bold statement.

" Fine." So he does talk, you chuckled to yourself silently. Slowly you approached the boy, trying to not come off as a threat. You gently hovered the palm on your hand over one of the gashes that decorated his skin, the boy tensed at the touch but quickly relaxed. Silently you called for your vision, feeling your respective element pulsing to your fingertips as you mended the wound. A few seconds passed and after removing your hand, a smile crept to your lips satisfy to see the gash no longer littered on the boy's skin. You repeated this action a few times, mending the rest of the gashes. The boy on the other hand finally started to place the bandages on the smaller cuts. His shoulder drooped becoming more welcomed to yout touch.

Curious of the events that brought the trio here you asked, " may I ask what happened?" The raven-haired boy made no indication that he was going to respond but Paimon gladly answered. " There was a fight at Mt. Hula. Something really riled up the guards."

Oh, so this is what the guards were gossiping about. " I once again want to apologize for storming in- from what I heard BuBu Pharmacy was the best place to go for medicine and such in Liyue. And as you see from our current state..." Aether paused glancing down to his injured body. " Xiao and I will pay you for the trouble." Xiao, so that's his name. " We wouldn't even be in this mess if you haven't been sticking your nose into places it shouldn't be." Xiao retort sharply. Aether paid no mind to what he said. Man, is this guy is a cryo user- he's colder than Chongyun.

" Alright, I've finished mending your injuries, if you feel any discomfort let me know and I can get some painkillers." Xiao's head slightly perked up at the mention of 'painkillers' but said nothing about it. Instead, his attention went to look at the areas where crimson-colored injuries use to be before being cleansed by you.

You turned your attention to the outlander, reaching out to start cleaning his wounds. Before you could start however a voice pulled you back. " What's your name?" Xiao had his back to you but the tone of his voice wasn't so cold, it was warmer and that brought a smile to your lips. " I'm y/n." You replied turning to glance at him. ( While Aether waited patiently to be healed)

Xiao glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours.

" Thank you Y/n."

[darkverrmin]

trigger warning: family member dying.

I lost one of my grandmothers a couple of days ago. She lives in another country, but I've seen her a lot through the years. She died alone in her apartment. My heart breaks only thinking of that. I can't even look at my parents without crying, seeing how they blame themselves. She didn't want to come live with us, she liked it there.

And we can't even fly to her funeral because of the fucking pandemic.

How can you ever make peace with someone dear to you dying, without blaming yourself?

***

Jaskier's face fell as he continued reading the letter in his hands.

Geralt, who noticed that the room has gotten too quiet, lifted his gaze from the potion ingredients in front of him. "Jaskier?" He asked, slightly frowning. "What is it?".

Jaskier folded the letter with shaky hands, giving Geralt a small smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Geralt could cleary see how the younger man's lips were shaking.

"It's nothing" Jaskier said, his voice slightly breaking at the last word. "Um. It's just. My father".

Geralt snorted, going back to his work. "Another threat of disowning you unless you quit being a bard and traveling with a Witcher?".

Jaskier's laugh was short and bitter, and that's what finally made Geralt finally drop what he was doing and focus on the man in front of him. "No," Jaskier said, trying to maintain a light tone. "Um. My father, he- well- He died. Heart attack".

Geralt blinked back at him, not knowing what to say.

What the fuck should he even say?

Panicking, he said the stupidiest thing possible-

"Are you okay?".

Jaskier snorted at his question and got up from his seat, pacing across the room. "Well, I- As you know, my father and I weren't exactly close. He was very mean to me on some occasions. Always said he was ashamed of me. He and my mother, they fought- a lot. To be honest, I hated him".

Jaskier stopped in front of the small window of their rented room.

"I think I hated him. I don't know. In the last few years, I never cared about what's going on in his life". The young bard buried his face in his hands. "Then why does it hurt so fucking much right now?" He sobbed quietly.

A moment later, strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist and pulled him against a warm body. Jaskier started shaking violently.

"C'mere." Geralt murmured and Jaskier turned around in his arms, burying his face in the fabric of his shirt. He was sobbing openly now.

He didn't remember how it happened, but at some point he and Geralt eneded up on the floor, Jaskier sitting in his lap, his fists curled in the Witcher's shirt, sobbing into his neck.

Geralt ran his fingers through his hair, whispering "it's okay, I'm here, let it out", occasionally pressing kisses to the bard's shoulder and temple.

When Jaskier's sobs turned into quiet sniffling, Gerlat gently picked him up in his arms and carried him to the bed.

Lying down, Geralt continued murmuring soothing words, rubbing small circles into the bard's back. Jaskier continued crying into his shirt.

"I-i- He- W-when I got that scholarship to O-oxenfurt, he told me never to show my face in the courtship a-again. B-but, nonetheless, he sent me money when I was stru-struggling".

Jaskier took a deep breath. "He hated me being a b-aard, but my sister, Izzy, she told me he requested other bards to play my songs. Th-that he just wanted to hear that I was okay".

Jaskier took another shaky breath, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I was a horrible son, Geralt. I, I, I let him down all the time, he- He died and it is all my fa-".

"Stop it," Geralt cut him off, frowning slightly. He wiped Jaskier's tears away with his thumbs, cupping his face tenderly.

"He wasn't the ideal father and you weren't a horrible son." Geralt said quietly. "You are a person. With your own wants and dreams. Your father sometimes couldn't accept that".

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut, more tears rolling down his cheeks. Geralt wiped them away, too. "You did nothing wrong, Jask. You're grieving. It's okay to feel that way. But none of this is on you. Okay?".

"Okay." Jaskier sobbed quietly, but it didn't sound convincing. So, Geralt did the best thing he could do at the moment. He pulled the bard closer and held him tight.

"I want to be there for the funeral." Jaskier said quietly into his chest.

"Hmm." Geralt replied, tracing his fingers through Jaskier's hair. "We will go".

Jaskier was quiet for a moment. "We? I thought you wanted to head north, to Kaer Mor-".

"We can go there after the funeral. Or spend the winter in Oxenfurt. My brothers and Vesemir will understand". Geralt suddenly got up from the bed, fetching Jaskier some water.

"Drink." he ordered. Jaskier frowned at him, but took a few gulps nontheless.

"Okay." Geralt said, sitting down beside Jaskier on the bed. "Do you want to keep talking?".

"No." Jaskier replied quietly, staring at the floor.

"Okay." Geralt said again, reaching for the top button of Jaskier's shirt. When Jaskier didn't push him away, Geralt started to unbutton his shirt. "Then try to get some sleep. We need to leave early tomorrow".

Jaskier sighed, allowing Geralt to undress him and pull him beside himself under the covers. "I don't know how am I going to deal with all of this." Jaskier mumbled into the other man's chest.

Geralt put an arm around him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You won't. We will".

***

Don't feel guilty.

They wouldn't have wanted that.

[theodora3022]

Bloody Rose(Sebastian Michaelis x Vampire F!reader)

Request: Sabastian with a female vampire s/o? Can be yandere or not! You choose.

Notes: I made this in headcanons form and I’m typing on mobile during witching hours, so bear with me dear anon-

I decided to go with fluff since I am in a soft mood today~~

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of blood

To others, you were a tailor owning a small haute couture shop, a spinster who make her living by making outfits. But they won’t know you been doing this since the Georgian times.

You move from county to county, around England every decade or so, to avoid suspension. Luckily no vampire hunters has ever been on your tail: you consider yourself as a good subject to the crown despite being a blood drinker. You only consume animal blood, which made you a harmless vegetarian. Being a forever maiden is not unpleasant by any means, apart from being banished from sunlight. You miss being able to run around in the sun freely. When you do go out during a sunny day you cover yourself in fabric as much as possible, resulting you with overly pale skin.

Contrary to common belief, you slept until the afternoon, opening up the store even during the day. You had forced yourself to change your biological routine to fit in the human society. Although your bed resembles a traditional coffin in shape, it is never an actual one. The mirrors in your shop were not backed by silver, so you can still see your reflections.

You happened to be at late Victorian London when a mysterious murderer decides to drain the blood of thier victims like a vampire would, how unfortunate.

You were one of the suspects, so Sabastian and his lord were obligated to pay you a visit. Although they did not put you as priority to begin with: you never done things like this. 

You welcomed them to your store with a polite smile and warm greetings, as any good saleswoman would. 

Ever since transforming, you had not drank a drop of human blood. However, you can still smell the scent of their blood even through skin. It feels like...a natural perfume to you, to describe it at best. Some are sweeter then others, like tempting sweet delights, and you had to make sure you are well fed before going near them. 

That little lord’s blood is sweet and tempting. The butler, however, his blood just...is that even blood? You thought to yourself. It reminds you of the mighnight, danger lurking underneath the peaceful surface.This man is no ordinary human, you can sense that much. You had never delt with a demon before, therefor your knowledge is rather limited, only from books and theaters. 

Vampires are demons are cut from the same cloth, in a way right? Both can only venture in the shadows for eternity, trying to get by without being slain by those self righteous dastards. Sebastian had met some of your kind over the centuries, albiet none of them are as lovely as you are. You still act like a young human woman, if not for your overly pale skin you would be considered as normal. He wonders what made you this way, as all vampires, save a selected few, are humans before something happened. You seem like a kind lady, not one of those blood-hungry lowlifes he had seen before. 

You showed Ciel your collection, took his measurements when he demanded, never flinching away from the young lord’s cold attitude. When you went into the inner chamber to retrive more material choice, Ciel decided you are most likely not the murderer they are looking for, and Sebastian agrees. There is not a single scent of human blood on you or anywhere in sight, as demons can smell such things even one uses the finest soap to cover the traces.  Even though you are a vampire, if you are harmless to others Ciel is not intersted in fighting you(he has a demon for butler, so?).

“But she is a fine tailor, right milord? Maybe you can just make this a normal shopping trip.” What an unsual person you are, thought Sebastian. He might just take a little more time to observe you. It has been forever since he met another immortal being that does not irritates him.

“Very well. This would not be a complete waste of time then. I need a new suit for the social season anyway.” The young man tsked.

When they asks you to deliver the order yourself, you were hesitant about going outside. Your ususal customers send their servents to collect their orders, as you insisted so. You know what sunburns can do to you, but they offered you a down payment you cannot refuse. It is a risk you are willing to take. Even vampires needs gold to survive, if you do not wish to massacre humans for food.

The moment you stepped onto the estate, covered in a long hooded cloak and gloves, you can sense great calamity has occured in this location rather recently. But that is none of your concerns, the customer’s private life is nothing to pry about.

The servents...they are an odd flock, to say the least. They might seem clumsy or even impotent, but you know that butler knows better then to hire three imbeciles.  

After you made your delivery, Sebastian insists on you staying for the afternoon tea. You wanted to decline, since normal food has been tasting like wet paper ever since that awful day, but you find it hard to say keep saying no to such a comely man. He is the most goregous male you ever seen, and you say that as an immortal. The term “devilishly handsome” is like a tailor made suit for him. 

To your surprise, you can faintly taste the refreshement’s fruity flavours. When you were human yourself you have always loved food, missing it much when all you can taste is blood. So you helped yourself to quite a few tarts and biscuits, not knowing the demon had added special ingredients just for your vampire taste buds. You were so focused on your plate that you missed Sebastian’s calculating smile. 

That esclated rather quickly, soon you found yourself promising to tailor more clothes for Earl Phantomhive, therefore being on their premise more. 

Sebastian would always treat you to a plate of mouth-watering refreshments before you depart. Soon you find yourself answering his somewhat intrusive questions, as it is only fair to give him some compensation for those delicious treats.

The questions are surfaces ones at first. What is your favorite color or your preferred weather. Then to more personal territory, such as the reason behind your spinsterhood or what in a man that attracts you the most. You would blush madly, a feeling you have not felt in years fills your empty soul, and tell him your little answers.

How endearing. Compare to werewolves who behaves like canines, vampire leans closer to the feline side. You reminds Sebastian greatly of the black cat he encountered last spring. Your nonchalant and cheerful attitude are identical to the lovely creature. Oh and how he loves petting her soft fur. He wonders how your hair would feel under his hands. He initially might just be curious of how an odd vampire you are, but now the demon had found you to be quite an entertaining presence.

It has been so long since you had any friends, so you opened up to him quickly, disregarding the risks. You even revealed your identity to the man in black after he swears on his heart to not tell a soul. 

“My entire family was slaughtered by venegeful vampires. My father used to work as a vampire hunter for the mad King, therefore he made enemies of many. Ironically I survived, only to found out I turned into this. A creature who can only hide in the shadows forever. I swore I would never be like those blood suckers, I would never kill someone just to saitate my blood lust. Thank you Sabastian, for all those delicious cakes. They made me feel human agian once more. Also thank you for listening to my rambles, it has been so many years I confided in someone.” So you where a noble lady once. That is where your fine but antiquated manners originates from.

What a calamity you had suffered, yet you remain strong and lighthearted nonetheless. Moving from place to place, afraid to be burnt for your youthful appearance.You deserve to be cherished as the treasure you cleary are. No more hiding and running, not if he can help it.

You gladly accepted Lord Phantomhive’s offer to serve as the household’s tailor, the pay is generous and working for one person greatly reduce the risk of being discovered. Plus you get to spend more time with your new friend Sebastian! It is an offer you cannot turn down.

Sebastain is in a contract right now, but Ciel could only live so long. Prior to meeting you, he never thought about the future after his contract is completed. He imagined the two of you traveling across the European contient as friends, or something more, for the rest of your infinate lives. He has always been alone whenever he was not in a contract with humans, but the idea of being with someone forever is rather appealling to the demon. 

Even though he does not let his emotions discract him from his duties, you can still feel how he smiles whenever you enter the room. You would curl up your lips jovially in return, sometimes even teases him for having a charming smile. 

For now, Sebastian would be your good friend, always lend an ear to you for anything, or offer his shoudler should you need it, as long it does not get in the way of his duties to his liege. But who knows what would happen after the contract is completed? The world is yours to explore, with infinate amount of time, with him by your side.

[vrishchikawrites]

Hello from yet another Indian! I actually feel a lot of joy in discovering more Indian mdzs fans who feel similarly about Jiang Cheng. I share your sentiments about the angry character trope. I also agree that his character arc is somewhat stagnant, which was actually to me a pleasant surprise? Don't get me wrong, I love well executed redemption arcs, but so many books/shows/mangas just have the protagonist forgive the angry bully character (whose made maybe the minimum effort to change), so I found the treatment of Jc rather refreshing. Or rather I found how wwx treats Jc (as someone who he's cleary pegged at stewing in his own past resentment) refreshing. Because wwx just walks away. And doesn't really seem to get mired in trying to reconcile. Which is why most reconciliation fics fail for me personally, because it mostly involves less JC redemption and more wwx sort of taking more bullying from Jc and constantly apologizing for things he didn't do.

Yeeep

The best part of WWX and LWJ's characterization is just how adult they are about things, if you know what I mean? There's a clear distinction between their younger and older selves. The young WWX spends a lot of time appeasing JC, even if he does get annoyed a few times. The older one behaves like most adults do when they realize the person before them is being obstinate; they just walk away. It is a healthier approach. It allows WWX to live his life in peace and still leaves room for JC to improve as a character. If reconciliation has to happen, it must happen after there's substantial growth on JC's side. He doesn't need to say sorry or ask WWX to apologize. He just needs to, well, move on, focus on being a good person. If he does that, I think the reconciliation will happen somewhat naturally.

They'll never be brothers or great friends, but they'll be able to be distant relatives of sorts?

[josiecarioca]

“Family...the real one.”

Summary: Emmet “Fin” Finnerty has found the love of his life in Doug Cleary. The next logical step is introducing him to his family...The real one.

Because “family” are those who take you in, when the ones who should love and protect you, fail.

Disclaimer: Fin and Doug are secondary characters of “Post War”, so while thechnically this story happens in the “Harry Potter” universe, it is not a fanfic as much as it is an original story, hence why it’s a tumblr publication alone. Evelyn is in this, but there will be no Snape, no magic and nothing of what my readers are used to see in my stories. I hope you still like it.

Warning: contains domestic violence, homophobia, homophobic slurs and emotions

Tagging, as usual:   @arabellafiggypudding @the-witches-son  @hummingbird-flying-in-the-rain @artisticreptilequeen @viper-official @be-zoar @violet-knox @mafagafobebum @marvelschriss @codename-thedoctor @zealouspickleeggdragon @green-oasis @drawnfromthedead @snapescapades @madshelily @serosvit  @snapecentric @hbprincealice @hayalee8 @lilythemadqueen @paracosim @oliverlandomens​ @sleepysnapesnake

“Family...the real one”

Dublin, Ireland

June 1998

“Full disclosure?” Fin was rambling. He knew he was. He usually did when he was nervous. Doug surely knew that by now. He even claimed he found it “adorable”. Only Doug could say something like that.

Three months. Three months and he was ready to make this official. He knew Doug felt the same. Unlike Fin, he had no problem showing his feeling, shouting them from the rooftops even. That didn't come so easy for Fin. It never did. But now, now he could do just that. Shout it from the rooftops. Make it official. And making it official started here. Introducing him to Lyn. It was a big step.

“Go ahead” Doug smiled, gazing at him with bright blue eyes full of endless patience.

Three months. Three months and Fin was starting to feel like this was it. He had found what he looked for in that handsome, sweet 6'ft tall dork of a man.

“You´re the first boyfriend I introduce to Evelyn since...God, I don't know...1995?”

“And why is that?” Doug asked, somewhat amused. After all, how much of a big deal could this possibly be? Sure, he was about to introduce his new boyfriend to his best friend, obviouly it was important, but how could he begin to explain it wasn´t just that simple?

“You know how it was...back then, I mean. I wasn't really being safe, and Lyn was just so worried about me and I never really thought she would approve of … Nevermind, now it's different. I want you to meet her. It's important.”

Fin looked around. He had picked a good place. The restaurant was nice enough that it felt like an occasion, but casual enough that it didn't seem like he was making a big fuss of it. But he was. It was a big deal. Fin wasn't the 'dating' type. But Doug was not like anybody he met before. Doug has this sort of tranquil aura about him, this kindness in his words and actions, such love in his eyes. Doug made him feel like he could just rest, breathe easy. This time he knew it was different. It just felt different. It felt like it could last.

Doug reached over the table to hold his hand, reassuringly.

“Her opinion means a lot to you, no?”

“Well, yes...this is my family we´re talking about. The real one, you know?”

Doug had been lucky. His parents loved him unconditionally, as parents should. He wasn´t kicked out of the house when he came out, he wasn´t told his entire being, his entire identity was an abomination before God. He wasn't made believe that no matter how good he was, how much of a good Christian he was, he would still go to hell for something he couldn't change. No, his parents loved him, protected him. Fin had also been lucky, but in a different, more complicated way. The family that loved and protected him wasn´t the one he was born into. It was Evelyn's.

“So, you told me you've known each other since you were kids...but, you never really said much more than that...”

That's right, Fin thought. He'd never told him. Not everything. He had to.

“I was friends with her brother growing up...Paul. We went to school together.”

There it was, that bittersweet ache in his heart. He hadn't felt it in a while

“I daresay I had a bit of a crush on him. Sometimes I wonder if he felt the same. But I guess I'll never know.”

“Why not?”

“Paul passed away. There was a fire in their house when he was just eleven. Lyn was there too. Their father pulled her out in time because she was closer to the door, but when he got to Paul it was too late. It happened too fast. ”

“I'm so sorry” Doug seemed stunned out of words. “I didn't know.”

“I didn't tell you. I should have. Specially today....we still have some time before she gets here, so....I think if we're serious about this, then you should meet Evelyn and her family...my family. That's why this is important to me. That you meet her and that you meet them.”

“Ok...So tell me. Tell me about your family, Fin.”

“I guess I should start from the beginning, then...Paul and I, we went to the same school. Catholic school...fun times.” he scoffed “Lyn was just a yar younger than us, and she went to an all girls school. Their father, Mr. Black was the headmaster, there. Paul took her everywhere with us when we weren't at school. Nothing could separate those two...Well, then...Paul passed away, and I was devastated, but her? I don't think there was a word in the entire dictionary that could have described how she was feeling, the poor girl. So I started going there to visit. They were all in such pain that I think Mr. Black let me spend as much time in their house as I wanted because he hoped it would help her. As it turns out it helped me. Being around her was a little like being with him. She looked so much like Paul it was eerie, nearly identical. I swear, if you could have seen them together, you'd swear they were twins. She was different though. Paul was like a hurricane in a boy's body. Lyn was much gentler. Anyway, the years went on and she just became...my sister, in a way. More than my own sister, to be honest. I'm pretty sure my parents expected us to date or something, but she knew, she was the first person I told. So she just came to my house, and smiled and nodded when my mother went on babbling about how we were perfect for each other and whatever nonsense. Then it happened...”

…

Doolin, Ireland

June, 1977

“What do you think?” Evelyn twirled, wrapped in meters of flowy, flowery fabric. The sun that came through the curtains filtered though the fabric, colouring the room.

“What am I looking at?” Emmet put down his magazine and watched her, trying to picture what she planned to do with the material she was showing him.

“My new dress, Fin!” she smiled, calling him by the nickname Paul had come up with years ago. Fin for 'Finnerty'. After Paul died, it was just the two of them. Fin and Lyn. “For my birthday. Since I'll be 15, mam said I can have it however I want.”

“Your birthday is in September!”

“It takes time to make a dress, and my grandma is going to have her hands full with Halloween costumes soon, so she's going to make my dress now. I want it long, with a bodice and medieval sleeves. Like Stevie Nicks in that magazine my dad brought from Dublin. He brought me the new Fleetwood Mac record too, here put it on.”

She set the fabric aside and fished the long play from the big canvas bag she had brought.

Whenever Lyn came over she always brought that huge bag, filled with clothes, magazines, records and books. She knew Fin couldn´t have any of that stuff at home. His mother didn't allow him to wear anything more colorful than a blue dress shirt for sunday mass, and his father was the one who decided which records, books or magazines were allowed in the house. Which meant no fashion or entertainment mags, no rock or pop music, and no books that seemed “suspicious”, which was pretty much anything that wasn't a school textbook. If not for Evelyn's father Emmet wouldn't even have read Oscar Wilde.

She handed him the record and he put it on, in the old record player Evelyn had snuck in for his last birthday. Her mother had got a new one, so she let Fin have the old 1967 Magnavox. His parents had no idea he had that thing in the bedroom, so he had to keep the volume low enough that his parents wouldn't hear it downstairs, or that they'd just think he had the radio on.

“We should ask my dad to take us next time he goes to Dublin. He promised me new shoes for my birthday. Red leather ones. With heels, I'm old enough for heels now. They only have those in Dublin.” Evelyn suggested, as both of them lay on the floor, staring at the reflection of the sun on the ceilling.

“You know my parents won't let me go.”

“They will if my dad is taking us. Or even better, if mam comes too. Your mother goes to church with her, of course she's going to let you go if she's with us. She's better to shop with anyway.”

“Maybe.” he trailed, knowing it wouldn't happen.

“We can buy some things for Halloween costumes. You should ask my grandma to make you one as well.Ooh, you know what? We can go as John Steed and Emma Peel! All you'll need is a suit, an umbrella and a hat, and grandma Liz can make me a jumpsuit. That purple one, with the chains! Or you want do do something spooky?”

“We´re not kids, anymore, Lyn.” he laughed

“And?”

“You really want to dress up for Halloween? We´re too old for that.”

“My grandparents still dress up for Halloween.” she scoffed

“It's different.”

“How?”

“They're...old-old. When you get to be their age you can do whatever you want.”

“They're not that old. I mean, if you...”

Evelyn's sentence was cut short by loud banging on the door. Emmet scrambled to his feet to turn off the music and toss a blanket over the record player. His father never banged on his door more than twice before yanking it open without waiting for an answer.

“You, downstairs now.” he barked at Emmet, before turning to Evelyn “And you can go back home, young lady. I need to talk to my son”

Emmet felt his stomach drop. His father never bothered to 'talk' to him, unless he was in trouble.

Evelyn picked up her things in a hurry and shoved it all back inside her bag, glancing over her shoulder at him all the while. She looked like she wanted to say something, but didn't know what.

“Now!” his father thundered from the stairs.

Emmet was frozen in place.

“Emmet is just helping me with my things, Mr. Finnerty. We'll be right there.” Evelyn answered, her voice slightly breaking.

“Come on...” she told him, holding his arm. “I'll go with you.”

“You have to go home.” he finally found his voice and his feet moved.

Emmet felt her hand grab his as they climbed down the stairs. His father was walking around the livingroom in circles, while his mother was talking to somebody. He heard her apologizing profusely. Then he realized why. She was talking to Connor Walsh's mother. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Mrs Walsh shot him a disgusted look on her way out.

“Evelyn, dear, you can go now.” Mrs. Finnerty said, and Emmet noticed she had a piece of  paper in her shaky hands. He knew that piece of paper. He looked at Evelyn, feeling like the world was a minute away from crashing down onto his head. She  looked back at him, knowingly. He had told her about Connor...about the letter. She knew. He felt her hand squeeze his again.

“I won't.” she whispered.

Emmet didn't want her to go. But he also didn't want her to stay. He didn't want her to see what he knew was about to happen.

Neither of them had the time to say anything else. His father snatched the letter from his mother's hand and grabbed Emmet by the collar, nearly shoving the paper into his face.

“Did you write this?” he roared

Emmet couldn't find his voice. He felt warm tears swelling in his eyes. He could hear his mother's voice, asking his father to let him go and telling Evelyn to just go already.

“Did you write this drivel, lad?! Answer!” his father insisted, pushing the letter into his chest.

“Answer, Emmet!” his mother was crying “This is just a prank isn't it?”

It was over.

There was no point in lying, he had the letter right there. His mother might try to lie to herself, to convince him it was nothing, but it was there, plain for anyone to see it. They read it. They knew. He was sure they had already heard the rumors, the talk, the othe boys calling him this and that.

They knew it. They couldn´t pretend they didn't

“I did.” he  barely whispered.

Next thing he knew he felt his body hit the wall in full force. It didn't even hurt. It didn´t feel real.

Evelyn screamed and, from the corner of his eye, he saw her run to him. His father stepped in front of her.

“You get out of my house now, before I drag you home to your father, so he can teach you to mind your own business, lass.”

“Fin, I'll be right back!” she cried, running out the front door.

“What the devil were you thinking writing this?!” his father pulled him to his feet by his shirt.

“Stephen, let the lad go. This was just a game, just stupid prank. Tell him, Emmet, tell him this isn't serious.”

This was it.

They knew it.

They read it.

There was no turning back now.

“I did it, mam. I did it, I wrote it. It wasn't a prank, I really wrote it.”

“You hear it, Edith?! Your son can't even have the decency to be ashamed!”

“Why?! Why would you do something like this?!”

“You know why!” Emmet nearly screamed, overwhelmed, dizzy “You read it, didn't you? You know why! Iwrote it because I love him!”

His parents stared at him as if they were looking at something alien, something they couldn´t comprehend.

“Mam...dad...” he felt the tears run down his cheeks, burning. But he refused to cry, to sob. He wouldn't do that. “I'm gay.”

Emmet had expected his father to hit him.

What he didn't expect was for his mother to slap him.

But she did. She slapped him hard across the face and left the room. Like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.

Anything after that didn't hurt. He didn't even feel it.

It was as if he had left his body. He could vaguely discern some broken words, something about “bringing filth into his house”, “shame” and “hell”...he could see the blows coming, and his body acted on instinct, raising his arms to protect his head, his face. But he didn't feel it. He didn't feel any of it.  He just cowered on the corner and closed his eyes, praying it would be over soon. Praying he would get tired eventually. Before he hurt him too bad. Before...

“Stephen, what the devil are you doing?!” Emmet knew that voice, that deep voice filling the air around them like thunder. “Have you lost your mind?!”

The blows stopped and he opened his eyes.

Mr. Black was standing right there, with both his arms around his father, draging him away.

“Let me go, Marius!” his father shouted, like a man possessed, while Mr. Black kept holding him back.

“Leave the boy alone, Stephen! You're trying to kill him?”

Emmet tried to get up but he was too dizzy.

“Fin, are you ok?” Evelyn was kneeling next to him, frantically pushing his hair away form his face.

“You called your dad?” he was terrified.

“Of course I did!” she helped him up.

He heard a loud thump and looked up. Mr. Black had flung his father onto the armchair, and was now standing, looming over him. He looked taller than Emmet remembered him, much taller. And his father, sitting on the chair looked so small by comparison.

“Enough!” Mr. Black boomed, and Emmet could had sworn the ground under his feet trembled.

“You don't get it, Marius! You don't know what this...what this boy did!”

“Whatever it was, it doesn't justify this!” Mr. Black took off his thick rimmed glasses and pinched the brigde of his nose, in evident frustration.

His father got back to his feet, standing right in front of Mr. Black and he still looked small.

“This none of your business!”

“You made it my business when you sent my daughter back home in tears, scared out of her wits that you were going to kill her friend!”

“Then take your daughter back home and let ME handle what happen in MY house!” He pushed past Mr. Black and barrelled towards Emmet.

Mr. Black tried to hold him back, but he took a swing at him. Emmet and Evelyn both screamed, but Mr. Black managed to dodge it. He reached for his father again, shoving him so he'd back off.

“Linnie, get Emmet out of here!” Mr. Black told his daughter, and Lyn tried to pull him by his arm, but Emmet couldn't move.

“Stephen, for the love of God, stop! You'll regret this!”Mr. Black pleaded, stepping between Emmet and his father.

“What do you know, Marius?! You don't have a fecking faggot living under your roof! Count your blessings, Marius, because I rather have a dead son than this!”

For a second, a long, agonising second, time seemed to stand still. Emmet could see it on his father's face that he had regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Not because of what they meant to Emmet. No, he knew his father meant every bit of that. But because he knew, of all the things he could have said to Mr. Black, that was the wrong one.

Emmet had known Mr. Black his entire life. He never saw him raise his voice, he had never seen him angry. He was a gentle man. A man who took them birdwatching on weekends, who bought them magazines and records whenever he went to Ennis or Dublin, who told them about his favorite poets and painters. Emmet didn't think he was physically capable of being anything other than gentle and kind.

But in that moment, he changed.

Emmet never thougth he'd see Mr. Black punch somebody. But he did it. A single punch, right to the side of his father face, so strong, so sudden, he fell to the floor  like rotten fruit falls from a tree.

“Never” he growled in a voice that didn't sound like his voice at all “you hear me, NEVER talk about my son again! You heard me, Stephen!? NEVER! I promise you, you mention my boy ever again, and it will be the end of your sorry life upon this Earth, I promise you!”

“I didn't mean it like, that, you know I didn't...” Emmet watched with disgust as his father tried to get back on his feet, stumbling, humiliated.

“I know exactly what you meant! And you know what you meant, you dirty coward!”

He kept trying to make excuses, but Mr. Black would have none of it.

“You don't know, you have no idea, what it is to bury a child, and I hope to God you never find out.” his voice was calmer, but there was a frightening coolness to it “Are you out of your damned mind?! This is your son! Standing right there while you´re wishing him dead! What I wouldn't give to trade places with you! To have my boy here, alive, like him!”

Emmet was numb. He felt Evelyn rest her head against his shoulder and weep, softly. He wanted to hug her, to do something, anything. But all he could was stare. Stare at his father, trying and failing to stand up to her father, as Mr. Black towered over him, his face filled with righteous, godly, ice-cold anger. And he felt so embarrassed, so ashamed that this man, this petty, pathetic, bumbling excuse of a man was his father.

“Easy for you to say, Marius, but if Paul had been a...”

“I won't hear my son's name from your mouth again, Stephen. Paul is dead. And if I could have him back, I would have him however he was. Trust me, nothing can worse than a dead child. Nothing!”

“That's a pretty sentiment coming from somebody who doesn´t have to live with THAT under your roof! But I won't stand for this! I won't have this in my house!”

“Fine, I'll take him!”

“What?!”

“You don't want him under your roof? I'll solve that problem for you, then. I'll take him. However he is. I'll take him.”

…

“What on earth happened to you, dear?” Mrs. Black seemed horrified when she laid eyes on him, as Lyn walked him throught the front door. Emmet, still dazed, wondered how bad he must have looked for her react that way. She put her hand on his cheek, and her blue eyes were filled with something he couldn't describe. “What has he done to you?”

Only then did he cry. Only then did he allow himself to sob.

It was Evelyn's mother who held him in her arms as he had, so foolishly, hoped his mother would.

“I...I...told them I...I'm sorry, I...” he pulled back and wiped his tears, suddenly aware that...she didn't know. Mrs. Black went to church with his mother. She didn't know he was...  A rush of panic coursed through him. What would she say? He couldn't. He couldn't go through this twice.

“Take a breath, pet.” she told him, pulling him to sit on the couch. “Linnie, love, go get the first aid kit in the kitchen, we need to patch this lad up a bit. And try not to alarm your sister, if you will. And where is your father?”

“He's waiting for Mrs. Finnerty to get him all of Fin's...I mean, Emmet's stuff.”

Mrs. Black nodded, as if she knew something. As if she had been expecting to be told exactly that. Lyn looked at her mother with the same knowing expression in her eyes and went to the kitchen as intructed.

Emmet felt like runnning away, as far away as he could.

“Mr. Black he said...I'm sorry,I have to...I have to go back, I can't...”

“Emmet, calm down.”

“Mrs. Black, I know you don't want me here. I...I'm...I mean, I...told my parents...”

“I know, pet. I know.”

“No you don't...”

“Emmet, my darling, why do you think I allow you to be in Linnie's room for hours with the door closed? I'm not stupid.” she laughed softly.

“How?”

“A mother just knows...”

“Mine didn't.”

“If she let your father do this, then she's not that competent of a mother is she?” Mrs. Black scoffed. “But, trust me...a mother knows.”

Then it clicked. Then he knew.

“You mean...” he trailed, stunned “...Paul?”

“I carried him inside me 9 months, I birthed him, clothed, fed him, cared for him till the day he left this Earth. Nobody knew him better than I did, except God.”

“God...” he spat out “My mother thinks God will send me to hell. Because the Bible says...”

“Oh pish-posh...I pray on the Bible as well as any Christian, but Jesus knows where I would be if I took  everything it's written in there so seriously. Thou shall now lay with a man, and whatnot, fine, but you don't see anybody that eager to give up their breakfast bacon because the Bibles says it's forbidden, now do you? Your parents didn't stone your sister in the town square when she left the house married for two days and pregnant for 2 months, did they? Like we all didn't know.  Enough of this nonsense, now, we need to get you fixed up. God, you're bleeding.”

“So I really can stay?”

“Do you want to stay?”

…

“So I stayed.” Fin smiled. He looked up at Doug and took a deep breath, hoping he didn't think it was sillly that he had tears in his eyes over this. But all he saw in Doug's expression was understanding...and love. So much of it.

“I stayed until we both left for college, Lyn and I. She studied history and I went for journalism.Mrs. Black was the one who got me my first camera, then Mr Black gave me my first professional camera, and books about photography and journalism. They did everything for me that a mother and a father would do. I stilll go back with Lyn to spend the holidays with them. Well, with her...He passed away a few months ago. His heart. Funny that of all things, it was his heart that would kill him.”

Doug's hands closed over his.

“Thank you.” he said, quietly. “For telling me all this. I know it wasn't easy.”

“I...” he didn't finish. Over Doug's shoulder he saw the restaurant door open, and Evelyn walk in, wrapped in a long, flowy, flowery dress. “There she is.”

[unholyhelbig]

Workplace au: Beca is a new software engineer at the office and is extremely quiet. She doesn’t participate in any office activities, happy hours, or parties. When she doesn’t go to a mandatory meeting management pulls in Chloe from HR (whose already noticed the pattern and is worried) to speak with her

A/N: It’s been a while! I’ve been working a lot, but I’m going to get back to writing. This is literally the 60th time I’ve written Bechloe! 

Read on Ao3 | Request prompts here 

Beca looked around the office through the thick lenses on her glasses. Whoever had summoned her here had a flare for comfort; there was a leather office chair with a fuzzy turquoise pillow. A vase of lilies sat at the edge of the wood next to photos that Beca couldn’t decide were family or friends. She scrutinized the smiling faces and tried haplessly to guess which one was running late to their own meeting.

Beca picked up one of the stress balls that were on the edge of the desk and gave it a squeeze. It was well worn, and practically putty in her hands. She flipped it over and read the advertisement for some dentist downtown before she set it down and lowered herself in the seat even further. Her stare found a gold plated name: CHLOE BEALE

It was embarrassing, being called to the marketing floor, like this. She cared about the interworking’s of their projects, not the shiny ads that they printed on the sides of buses, or the giant PR parties that quickly followed a new release. No one else in her department had been phoned, but they all watched as she walked, red-faced, to the elevator.

The door creaked open and she found herself straightening her posture with a heavy breath. She had no one to impress here, not a single person, but still- she wanted to make a solid impression. Maybe one with a firm handshake and a questioning stare.

“I am so sorry I’m late.” The woman spoke before showing her face. She set down a big mug of what looked like chocolate, or maybe Coffee that wasn’t actually coffee. Her features were shrouded with copper locks, barely tamed. She let a large stack of flyers hit the desk with a muted thump. “You’re probably confused. I would be too.”

The woman sat down in the chair and smiled brightly. She had soft features cut with startling blue eyes. It was a nice smile, Beca decided. She was confused, however, but mostly intrigued. “That’s okay,”

“I’m not very punctual. I put out the fires that are burning the fastest, you know?”

“Sure,” Beca shifted herself in the chair “Does that make me a fire?”

“Mmm, a sparkler, maybe. Controlled.”

A controlled fire, that was better than nothing. Beca hadn’t seen a title on this woman’s door. Maybe she was the supervisor for PR, or just in Human Resources. She was comfortable, taking a sip of her drink and then cringing away from the heat.

“That wasn’t the right way to start. You’re not a fire.” Chloe grimaced and pulled a file out of the bottom drawer of her desk “It looks like you’re the most talented coder on your floor. Graduated Yale with a 4.0, which is super impressive. You’re efficient, Beca.”

She lifted a brow at this. She knew all of this, she stayed late into the night to make sure that she had the best numbers in her quadrant, even if it did sacrifice most of her personal time. Even still, hearing her accomplishments come out of this woman’s mouth made her stomach flutter. She wished she hadn’t put the stress ball back.

“Thank you,” She said.

“On paper, you’re perfect.”

“And not on paper?”

She sighed and threw the file onto the desk without reading the rest. “Frankly, we’ve gotten a few complaints.”

What was that supposed to mean? Sure she kept to herself, often eating her lunch in the corner of the break room with her headphones in. Sometimes, if it was warm enough, she would sit in her car and flip through whatever book she had forgotten to haul back up to her apartment. But she never caused trouble.

“You missed the last meeting,” She tried gently “Which raised a couple of red flags.”

Beca scoffed and sat forward “It was about the Christmas party. It didn’t’ seem important. The app did.”

“The app could have waited.”

“Funny, considering the whole company depends on the newest technology possible. If you all would rather play pin the tail on the Hanukah Donkey, that’s fine.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and schooled her expression like she couldn’t feel her heart in her throat. The way Chloe stared at her could stop a train dead on its tracks. She still couldn’t’ read the expression, and maybe that was a little scarier than being able to.

“You’re determined, and I like you.”

“I’m sensing a but.”

“But this company is based on inclusion. We try to make sure that everyone feels welcome. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been invited to Happy Hour multiple times and you refuse every effort.”

“This is about my social life?”

“Lack thereof,”  

Beca leaned forward again, this time not hesitating to grab the neon yellow ball. She squeezed it twice without consequence. Chloe took three more gulps of her drink before pushing it to the side. She cupped her hands together as if to pray “people are concerned.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be. I like to keep to myself. It’s not a big deal.”

“You don’t even go to birthday parties!”

“I didn’t know there were any.” She shot back.

“You’ve worked here for three years, Beca. Do people just not age?”

She smiled at that, but then let the grin drop to a scowl. This was about principle. The company that she worked for shouldn’t have a say in what she did after hours, because they already controlled what she did from 9 to 5.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Beca sighed heavily “I’m listening.”

Chloe grasped one of the flyers on the desk and slid it towards Beca. It was glossy and overdone. The background was a dark red with sharp gold writing. A masquerade ball to advertise the new VPN that they had been developing for months now. It was a little too on the nose.

“You have to come with me to this ball.”

“Do I, now?” She glanced up from the paper, stare heavy “Look, Chloe, even if I was into social interaction, which I’m not”

“Cleary.”

“I wouldn’t start dipping my toes in with a classy masquerade ball where all of these big execs are going to mix drinks. I don’t even think programmers are invited to these things.”

“Which is why you’re my plus one. I planned the entire thing. The way I figure it, if you can fake your way through one night of glam and glitz, you can at least pretend to like sharing cake in the break room.”

She let out a long sigh and squeezed the stress ball a few more times. The woman across from her was staring expectantly. Maybe she had been a little standoffish since she started here. Right now, she cursed herself for not agreeing to one drink every once and awhile.

“One night?”

Chloe nodded with exaggeration “One night, and we’ll never bother you again.”

Beca narrowed her eyes “I don’t have a dress.”

“I do.”