#keeping in contact over the summer to ~keep their connection alive~

[3416]

This is the problem with america. You go on 1634 tumblr in 2018 you can easily find jorts related comedy. Now nobody even bats an eye.

gonna be real, i have no idea what this means, but let's revisit the 1634 jort saga for fun bc "don't worry mitchy i got you" lives in my head RENT free

[iamumbra195]

If the Graveyard kids were demigods, which Greek god would they be the child of? (Riodanverse AU)

For Ashlyn, I believe she would just be another of Apollo's kids, keeping to herself most of the time. Nobody really paid her any mind because out of the dozens of Apollo kids, there wasn't anything particularly remarkable about her. She wasn't the Head Counsellor or anything. She liked it that way. Ashlyn discovered she was a demigod when she was young and spent two full years at the camp to fully prepare for living as a demigod in the mortal world before becoming a summer-only kid. Her sensitivity to sound is one of the strange abilities she inherited but isn't fully able to control, which is why she wears enchanted earplugs that keep sounds at a more tolerable level. Beyond that, she was a pretty average Apollo kid. She was good at the basics like Archery and Music but not beyond that of a normal Apollo kid. The only thing that really stood out was her dancing. It was her special interest, incorporating it into her daily life as a demi-god as often as she could. Her fighting style was based on ballet in canon and she preferred fighting with her legs over her hands--even going as far as putting a weapon in her shoes so she could still use her legs to attack. So she is an average demigod overall. Until one day she discovers that she was one of the few to inherit Apollo's nosokinesis, the ability to create and control diseases (like her ability to open rifts and trap people in them in canon). There's also the fact that her name literally means 'dream' or 'vision', so considering the fact that Apollo is literally the god of prophecy, I think being a child of Apollo fits her very well.

For Logan, I feel that for a long time, he would just be another unclaimed kid. He didn't know anything about his real parents and his grandparents were always super cagey about it until he was older and got attacked by a monster and they finally took him to the camp. He still doesn't know who his biological mother was. Then one day after being pushed too far by bullies, he snapped just like in canon, and was claimed by Ares, the god of war. Much to his and Barron's (another child of Ares) dismay because what the fuck do you mean this dickhead is my half-brother?! He had initially believed that his parent was related to his love for space and astronomy or maybe even his intelligence and love for math but Ares?!

For Aiden, I think being a child of Hermes suits him best. I've done some tests and got answers like Ares or the Big Three, which I don't think those really fit him. But for some reason, I like the idea that he has the favour of/is a legacy of Hades or Hecate from his dad's side while being completely unaware of it until much later (the unexplained connection his dad has to Maverick). Children of Hermes tend to be more hyperactive than other demigods and are often referred to as a jack of all trades and I think those things really suit Aiden. When he was younger, his parents sent him to camp year round in hopes that it would help him and he came back with dyed blond hair, red eye contacts and a reckless streak a mile wide.

For Ben, I believe that this kid is and always will be a child of Apollo. His deep love and talent for singing and music, his rage and hurt at having this taken away from him. His knack for medicine despite only having experience through taking care of Aiden. He only discovered he was a demigod after his voice was destroyed so he never learned that he could heal people with his voice/singing until one of the others, maybe Taylor, were fatally injured and he had no supplies to save them so as one last attempt to comfort them, he breaks his years of silence and sings for them. To his complete astonishment, they started healing and were able to stay alive long enough to get the medical help they needed. He felt pressued to sing and use his voice after that because it could heal people but Aiden or one of the others nipped that in the bud and told him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to. The idea of him also having premonitions when something bad is going to happen is cool, especially if it's the reason why he ends up catching little details the others fail to notice (a little nod to Canvas Ben for being so goddamn observant). His relationship with Aiden is also cute because children of Apollo and children of Hermes tend to get along, although not all of them do (Aiden and Ashlyn lol).

For Taylor and Tyler, I believe the twins would be children of Hephaestus. In some cultures, identical twins are treated as one entity/soul that was separated into two people and the same could be said about the Hernandez twins in this AU. Although they are different people with different interests and goals, that is how they are perceived as mortals. On the divine side of things, however, they are seen as a single soul split into two. That's why their connection goes far beyond that of regular mortal twins. Their abilities also reflect this. Taylor is a brilliant craftswoman and has a way with technology that separates her from the rest. She's also extremely fire-resistant, which proves to be useful considering her brother has the ability to manipulate fire. Tyler, on the other hand, has the basic skills needed to be a mechanic due to growing up with Taylor but it isn't instinctive in the same it is for Taylor. He is one of the few children of Hephaestus to have pyrokinesis, something he had to learn to master on his own because there wasn't anyone to teach him. They complete each other.

Although Aiden and Ashlyn spent a year or two in the camp, their paths never crossed and they were just another faceless person in the crowd of campers until they officially met when Ben and Aiden began to go to her high school in her sophomore year. Aiden clocked her as a demigod as soon as they met at the bus and was excited to meet another one of them outside of camp. He was also curious to know if she figured out what she was yet and if not, he could protect her from monsters and lead her to camp! Ashlyn recognized both Aiden and Ben as demigods but preferred to avoid mixing her mortal life with her mythological one so she avoided Aiden's needling to the best of her ability. When Ben finally told Aiden that she was another child of Apollo at camp, Aiden doubled down on the pestering which irritated Ashlyn beyond belief. Unfortunately for her, this wasn't the last she was going to see of him.

Mid-way through the first semester, Ashlyn received a prophecy from the Oracle stating that she and five others were to go on a quest. It was a shock to her and everyone in the camp because she was pretty unremarkable yet she was the one that had to go on the quest? It was ridiculously vague beyond the fact that she specifically had to go to Savannah with a group of five others. So she had to pick five other members for her team.

Nearly everyone tried to volunteer and because Ashlyn didn't particularly care who went along, names were drawn out of a bowl. With her luck, Aiden and Ben's names were both drawn out of the bowl, along with the Hernandez twins and Logan. She wasn't particularly happy with those chosen but she supposed it could be worse. Especially when she considered the fact she could've been going with him.

Barron was throwing a fit about how an unclaimed coward like Logan couldn't have possibly been picked but Tyler told him that no one would even want to go on a quest with him considering the only thing he cared about was glory and honour for himself.

And so, the six of them packed their things and started their journey to Savannah, Georgia where it all went to hell.

[thecryptidart1st]

When did alive au Mikey get kicked out? Was that rough for him, or was he back on his feet pretty quick?

William found out about Michael’s relationship with Jeremy when he was about 16. And by the end of the night, Michael stormed out of house. Though Evan kept in contact, William fully disowned him, and Elizabeth refused to speak to him. And months after the fight, police cars had arrived to the house, taking Clara with them; William soon after filed for divorce. No one knew the full story of what happened that night, but the rumors speculated that Clara became completely distraught over what happened to Michael.

Things were rough during the couple of weeks living on Jeremy’s couch, as Michael struggled with the guilt of leaving his family for what was essentially his own happiness, and later what happened to his mother because of his actions. And this internal fighting with himself led to Mike panicking and walking out of Jeremy’s apartment…

…But, things started turning up when Charlie came home to Hurricane for the summer and found Michael living in his car.

Charlie didn’t care about Mike being gay; all she cared about was that her pseudo-brother was safe and happy. And she forced Henry to let him stay in the Emily household with them while he worked on getting his GED. Though Henry was hesistant about the circumstances, he also knew he couldn’t sit aside and let Mike suffer because of his and William’s internal homophobia.

So he offered Mike a job at Fredbear’s. Mike got his diploma through community college and he worked nights as a security guard. And over the years, he worked his way to a managerial role in Fazbear Entertainment. Charlie worked her summers alongside him and when she graduated, she started training full-time with her dad. When Henry retired, she inherited Fazbear Entertainment. And the first thing she did was make Mike her financial partner and creative director for future restaurants and animatronics.

Jeremy and Mike continue to be off and on in a relationship during this time, but regardless of their status, Jeremy at least helps Mike embrace his sexuality and make more friends in the LGBTQIA+ community in Utah. And when Sammy came home from college and started his service in the Hurricane Police Department, suddenly people at Fredbear's continually witnessed three of the town's local bachelors be "very friendly" with each other.

Over time, Elizabeth begrudgingly lets Evan invite Michael back into her life. Michael finds his mother thanks to Sammy's connections with the police department and continues to keep in contact with her to this day.

And when William has his heart attack years later, it was the first time seeing Michael after their fight...

and then he has another heart attack finding out his son is married to two different men and they have a boy together.

[buckyb-stan]

TBR List

Following the logic of my other masterposts, I often come across posts that interest me, but I don't always have the time to read them right away. So, I like or repost them, hoping to get back to them later. Sometimes I manage to read them, but other times they just get buried in my likes and posts.

That's why I'm making this To Be Read (TBR) List to keep track of all the fics I want to read. Feel free to add some of these fics to your own TBR, and I'd love it if you could send me some recommendations too!

Thanks, and I hope this helps someone!

Still working on this list! I still have to go through my likes, I’ll keep updating

Last update: June 24th. 2024

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Series

should’ve been you - @classylo

Summary: 18+ only | He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Snow - @delaber

Summary: Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

The color of Rain - @delaber

Summary: On the run from his violent past, Bucky has sought refuge in a small town in Mexico where he enjoys the peace and quiet of not understanding a word of Spanish. A peace that is violently disturbed when he runs into the most annoying woman he has ever met.

Promise Me Universe - @winterarmyy

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Part I | Part II | Part III

  VACANT MIRRORS - @whirlybirbs

Summary: shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes.

Two Sides of The Same Coin - @anonymityisfunwriter

Summary: You have never had any contact with anyone or anything in the world until Fury decides to recruit you and assigns Sam to take care of you. What happens when Bucky gets to know you?

Grumpy x Sunshine universe (but this is their main story)

Cruel to be kind - @endless-summer-soldier

Summary:  it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she’s different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

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One Shots

The Apprentice - @chrisevansredbelt

Summary: reader is an apprentice for bruce and tony. bucky falls in love with her.

grilled cheese and other love languages - @bucky-bucket-barnes

Summary: Bucky has recently begun residing in the Compound. While out on a mission, as a favor to your friend Steve you promise to watch over his slowly recuperating friend while he adjusts to life out of Wakanda. While shy and resigned, he takes an interest in the pretty girl who checks on him.

[skysometric]

my 3rd favorite game that i played in 2023 is...

Freedom Planet 2

i was originally planning to wait on this one until the console version came out in "summer 2023." after it was delayed to the end of the year, i decided to grab the game on pc so i didn't have to wait… and i'm glad i did, because the console versions have been delayed a second time??

(i do not envy their situation and i hope the console versions are better for taking their time. honestly, i'll probably double dip anyway!)

the original Freedom Planet was a formative game experience for me during college. there was something inspiring about the way it shot for the moon – full voice acting, a fun cast of characters, a lived-in world with political intrigue, a focus on adding fast-paced combat – all trying to prove that it's more than just a Sonic fangame in new clothes.

and it worked. it gripped me and never let go! i must've replayed the story half a dozen times, speedran the levels dozens of times each. that's the reason i decided not to wait on the sequel any longer after the first console delay; i grabbed the game on pc and hit the ground running.

one aspect of what makes Freedom Planet special is its level design, and the sequel delivers – every single level is massive, open-ended, and absolutely GORGEOUS. the unique gimmicks, secret collectibles, and speedrun strats are what encouraged me to endlessly replay the first game, and each of those categories has been expanded here into some of the beefiest and most explorable levels i've ever seen in a 2D platformer, hands down. i'm so glad the sequel took its time in the oven, the levels alone were worth the wait!

to me, though, what really makes Freedom Planet stand out from other Sonic-inspired games is its fast and fluid brawling. enemies in each stage take a few hits to defeat, and every stage ends with a grand, bombastic boss fight – you get a handful of moves to tackle these fights with, and each character has very different fighting playstyles! crucially, though, there is no contact damage, meaning you can run circles around enemies while whacking away at their health bars with momentum-based attacks.

it's an incredibly fun and well-thought-out combat system, and its complexity is right at that sweet spot where it feels deep but not overwhelming. honestly it reminds me a lot of kirby's combat, which is one of my favorite combat systems in any video game! (that RtDL remake very nearly made my Top 5 this year…)

Freedom Planet 2 augments the combat system of the original in two ways. one is the addition of a spot-dodge, which feels so perfectly at home that i'm shocked it wasn't in the first game to begin with?? every game with combat benefits from the addition of a dodge, of course, but in this game especially it allows you to keep your momentum while attacking in a way that just feels so natural. there's nothing else quite like learning a boss's attack pattern enough to spot-dodge directly into a powerful counterattack!

but there's also nothing quite so discouraging as getting the boss's health down to a sliver… and biting the dust. here, too, is a place where the sequel shines: if you lose a life, you can choose to restart from a checkpoint with all your health recovered, or you can get back up on the spot with just 1 HP. the push and pull on this system is incredible – you risk getting a game over and having to redo the whole stage… but you could clutch out a victory at the last second! it has the capacity to turn near misses into huge successes, and it saved my ass countless times over the course of the adventure.

tying this all together is a great story that isn't quite as Big and Grand as the first game, but instead serves to deepen the connection between this loveable cast of characters by exploring their history and personalities in more detail. i'm still floored by the fact that these games have full voice acting – it truly makes the characters feel more alive, their personalities shine! the style of VA isn't everyone's cup of tea, i'm well aware… but as someone with fond memories of saturday morning cartoons, i find that it's very genuine and full of heart in a way that most films and AAA games don't really hit me. it's obvious that everyone involved had a ton of fun!

my one regret is that i haven't returned to the game since my first playthrough – i'd really like to replay those levels and see how fast i can clear them! and try out the other characters, and see what the arcade mode is like, and go for the achievements, and…

[heartofspells]

Hello, it's AMA with heartofspells! Tell me about a universe where Sirius survives OOTP. How do the rest of the books unfold with Sirius alive? (And beyond, if you want!)

Hmm, is that what this is? Yeah, okay. AMA with Holli, everyone! Come one, come all! Except I'm not that interesting.

BUT then here's Imp, starting things off with a bang and making me use my brain. That's a bit evil and I love it.

Let's just pick up after the DoM battle, shall we? Sirius survives (duh, no other universe exists), he's cleared of all charges after a bit of struggle, but he was there fighting against those he was suspected of aiding, so there's not much denial at play. No Order of Merlin, though, because the Ministry are salty bastards and he's still alive. They don't care.

Skip ahead to right before the summer. Free and clear, Sirius leaves Grimmauld Place (good riddance, too many bad memories now, as though there weren't before) and he returns to Remus' little cottage surrounded by woods, fresh air, loads of room to roam and run. They set up a room for Harry, and then Sirius begins his battle with Dumbledore, the one he never got to truly have all those years ago. Harry is his, belongs with Sirius, a right bestowed onto him by his best friends. Legally, there's nothing Dumbledore can do. The only power he has at play is the blood protection, but Sirius only scoffs at that. Harry's coming home.

He spends one day, only one, with the Dursleys, Padfoot present the entire time. And of course Sirius doesn't have to be the dog, but it's more fun that way, though he does take his chance when Vernon becomes particularly enraged over something to shift back to himself, very intimidating, causing the man to choke on his own tongue.

Now, clever as Sirius is, as well as Remus, they connect a few dots based on what they've learned about Harry being linked with Voldemort. Dumbledore is keeping secrets, he always has, so as the summer progresses, Sirius and Remus work around him, do their own research about what could link a two people together, wand reactions, really looking into that night in Godric's Hallow and what happened to destroy Voldemort as he once was. And Sirius, with access to centuries of Black family tomes filled with the darkest of things, figures it out, consults a few others, somewhat experts, before setting to work.

While Harry is at school, constantly in contact with his two loving and attentive parents, attending to studies and finally, hopefully, feeling like the teenager he's meant to be, Sirius and Remus begin hunting down the Horcruxes themselves. They use their own contacts for the research they need, track down those that had interacted with Riddle and survived, learn whatever secrets he hadn't managed to bury. They find them all, every last one, gaining the ring before Dumbledore can, no curse there to set Draco's path into motion, squashing it before it starts. No reason for Dumbledore to act out of panic and begin showing Harry the memories relating to the Horcruxes. They take them back to their home, ward a clearing in the woods until it's safe, destroy them with Fiendfyre, Sirius understanding just how volatile it can be, how carefully it must be cast, how clear a person's head should be before doing so. And he does it all for Harry. For Harry and for Lily and for James.

It takes a long time, just the two of them working at it, fear clawing at them if the wrong person finds out, relays it back to Dumbledore. But they're not finished yet, the worst still to come. It's nearly the end of Harry's seventh year, NEWTs fast approaching, Harry exactly where he belongs, not traipsing all over the country, living rough, but warm in his bed every night. They've still been looking into that night when everything finally fell apart beneath their feet, sorting out the pieces, puzzling them together until they finally form the answer.

Harry is a Horcrux.

Now look, I could go into a lot of detail here and try to fix all the issues that are RIFE in canon, but I will not. Harry's a Horcrux, but they can't kill him, Sirius would never, wouldn't even risk it. So they corner Voldemort, blast him with the Killing Curse, trap his maimed soul, bury him in a cement block at the bottom of the North Sea (near where Sirius had spent SO MANY wasted years) and live happily ever after.

Harry lives his life, does as he pleases, roams a bit without a master, free to do as he wishes with his best godfather in full support of his choices. Remus gets to live a comfortable life with Sirius, working as he pleases, surrounding himself with books and whatever else he likes, and Sirius goes into training to be a Healer. He and Remus have an entire litter of babies with their big brother Harry always around to spoil them senseless until he's got his own kids to be rightfully spoiled by their grandfathers Moony and Padfoot (Moony always has chocolate in his pocket, but shhhh don't tell Harry)(he knows). They all grow old and lazy and Sirius finds that he really enjoys comfortable slippers with rabbit ears very much.

THE END

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Summary: Journalist Andy Elliot’s life takes an unexpected turn when a chance encounter with Steve Rogers pulls her into the orbit of the Avengers. As she begins investigating a seemingly straightforward story, she uncovers threads of a deeper conspiracy that hint at something far more dangerous. Meanwhile, a growing connection with Steve adds an emotional complexity neither of them anticipated. But as the stakes rise, Andy realizes that her curiosity may have placed her in the crosshairs of powerful enemies—and that her bond with Steve might be the only thing keeping her alive.

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Warnings: Violence, Language

Additional Tags: Tags: Canon Divergence, Also Canon Compliant (in a roundabout way), Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Suspense, Strong Female Protagonist, Political Intrigue, Canon Typical Violence, Language

Chapter 1: Beginnings

Somewhere in the Colorado Rockies - Summer, 2014

Captain Steve Rogers surveys the horizon with a keen eye as the Quinjet shifts into stealth mode, vanishing from view with a shudder. The sun dips lower toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest, transforming the trees into dark, exaggerated silhouettes. The warehouse nestled between them is unassuming—steel beams and concrete, with warped glass peeking out from behind boarded-up windows. He takes a grounding breath, filling his lungs with the crisp scent of pine. The woods are silent, a near-perfect picture of peace. Too quiet, too still. It sets his teeth on edge.

There’s still no sign of life as he stalks the perimeter, keeping the abandoned structure in his periphery. Overgrowth grabs at his ankles, and climbs its way up the dilapidated walls; the ideal front for someone who doesn’t want to be found.

A faint rustling to his left catches his attention and he glances over just in time to see Romanoff fall into step beside him, silent as a wild cat. He doesn’t flinch—a testament to how well they know each other now, though he still wonders how she does it.

“How are we looking?” he murmurs with a sidelong look.

She shakes her head, a flash of red in the fading light. “Circled twice. All quiet out here.”

He nods, pressing his fingers against his earpiece. “Barton?”

“We’ve got some company.” Barton’s voice crackles through the comm, louder than he’s expecting. Steve winces—still not fully accustomed to Stark’s gadgets. “A couple of heat signatures inside.”

“Define ‘a couple’.”

“I’m counting half a dozen on the ground floor, another three on the upper level,” Clint whispers. “Should I move in for a closer look, Cap?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, despite knowing Clint can’t see it. “The front entrance is locked up tight. We wouldn’t be able to back you up fast enough if you run into trouble. Just hang tight until I give the order.”

He hears Barton’s level voice give him an affirmative before the line goes quiet. The tall blades of grass fold beneath his boots as he moves toward the east side of the building. All the while, he sticks to the long shadows cast by the ancient conifers, careful to stay out of view.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of skinny aspens, divesting them of their fading leaves. Somewhere within the stand of trees, Wilson and Stark are combing the woods. It’s been a while since he’s heard from either of them, but that doesn’t worry him. If they’d found something, Stark would have been the first to broadcast it.

“Rogers, what are you doing?” Natasha’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Looking for a way in,” he says, stepping over a rotting log. There’s no need to look back, he feels the disapproval rolling off her in waves.

“This is supposed to be a fact-finding mission. No contact. Fury—“

Steve stops, turning to face her. He knew the mission as well as she did and had sat next to her as Fury gave the the rundown. Suspicious activity in an abandoned mining town in the Colorado Rockies, linked back to some names on SHIELD’s radar, back when SHIELD still existed; notable amongst them were a few high-profile chemists.

 “If Fury wanted it done his way, maybe he’d get his ass out here himself for once,” he interjects, a rare note of irritation in his voice. “I’m not about to leave with an unknown chemical agent at play.”

“I gotta agree with Capisicle on this one, Nat,” Stark chimes in over the comm. “Not sure what they’ve got, but I know I don’t want them to have it.”

Sam quickly voices his assent while Clint diplomatically refrains from weighing in, likely too focused on his own task. Outvoted, Natasha sighs, but doesn’t argue further, only gives Steve a long, unhappy look before trudging after him through the foliage. They’re halfway around the building when they finally hear from Barton.

“Looks like things just got a helluva lot more complicated,” he murmurs, voice clipped. 

“What’s going on Clint?” Natasha’s brow furrows, underlining her concern.

“Civilians.” And they both freeze.

“How many?” Steve asks.

“Two so far. First floor, near the back office."

“Shit,” Sam’s voice comes clips through the earbud, articulating Steve’s exact thought.

His eyes drift to Natasha, exchanging a loaded look. She answers his silent question with a determined nod.

Meanwhile, Stark asks, impatiently, “What’s the move, Cap?”

The gears in his brain turn furiously, sifting through strategies as he surveys the flattened grass, the gray lines of the warehouse.

“Sam, Tony,” he starts. “You two take the top floor. See if you can get in through one of the open windows. Your focus is the civilians. And be careful, we might have hostages on our hands.” He adds the last part for Stark’s benefit more than anything. He doesn’t doubt Tony’s commitment to the mission, but he understands his propensity for rash action. “Clint, stay put and be ready to cover us. Nat and I are going to come in at the ground floor as a distraction.”

“On it,” Wilson says, and though he can’t make out Tony’s exact response, he knows he’s agreed.

“Rogers,” Barton cuts in some time after they break to find an entrance. “Looks like there’s a door on the west side. Boarded up from the interior, but once you’re in, it’s a straight shot to the guards.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replies. The comms go quiet and she turns to him. “Looks like we found our way in.”

In theory, it should be a short journey to the west exterior. But the stretch between, loaded with a minefield of dead branches and brambles, makes for difficult ground, even for a super soldier and an expert martial artist. They make slower progress than he’d like, taking up the lead with his shield raised to level the largest of obstacles and paving a path forward for Natasha. Still, stray branches scrape at any exposed skin and more than once, only one of them stops to pluck an offending cocklebur from their suits.

Finally, they reach their destination—a dented side-door, rusted to a muddy shade of brown and covered in dead vines. It’s so well obscured that Steve nearly misses it. Nat stops him with a hand on his shoulder, pointing it out with a toss of her head. It takes a few passes, but they clear enough of the vines to find the latch. All it takes is one experimental turn to confirm his suspicion; not only is it boarded from the inside, but the lock is rusted shut.

He glances back at Natasha, who takes a step back as he winds up. The shield slams into the door with the shriek of metal on metal, his shoulder leaning in to support the blow. The boards burst in an explosion of splintered wood, the hinges following after as the door gives up the ghost, collapsing inward with a resounding bang.

The debris crunches underfoot. He steps through first, on high alert, Natasha close behind. The vibranium shield hovers over his midsection and he emerges into the center of the room. Several pairs of wide, startled eyes green him, and for a split second, the warehouse is eerily silent—the calm before the storm.

Then, chaos erupts. 

Armed men spring from behind cargo crates and support columns, guns aimed at the intruders. A flash of blue light and shattered glass signal Tony’s arrival through a second-floor wind, followed closely by Sam. Nat takes position and one of Barton’s arrows whistles through the air, embedding itself into the shoulder of the man edging towards Steve’s unprotected flank. The man cries out, staggering to the side, and the rest of the guards open fire.

Steve raises his shield just in time, the gunfire ricocheting off its surface. The onslaught is relentless, and trapped behind his shield, it’s impossible to gain the advantage. Wordlessly, Natasha angles herself behind the shelter of the shield and his shoulders. They’ll have to wait until the guards run out of ammunition.

The barrage slows, followed by the telltale clank of reloading. Seizing the opportunity, Steve shifts onto the offense and surges forward. The shield arcs down, slamming mercilessly into a man’s abdomen, sending him crumpling to the ground. He follows up with a punch to the jaw, knocking the man out cold before kicking his gun away.

“Rogers, behind you!” Natasha’s voice rings out.

Steve spins around, finding himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Before he can react, the assailant staggers to the side, rifle waving precariously. Natasha's legs are wrapped around his torso, an elbow hooked around his throat. Her jaw clenches and Steve winces as she snaps his neck with a grim determination, letting him drop as she lands gracefully on the floor.

There’s no time for words. More guards are coming. Steve and Natasha fall into a sort of rhythm,  moving in tandem like two separate parts of the same well-oiled machine. They fight back-to-back, Nat ducking under his arm to land a blow when he goes high with his shield.

Steve allows instinct to take over. There’s a familiarity to fighting, one he dawns like an old sweater; a neat order he’s accustomed to that could almost be considered comforting. The repetition of muscle memory underpins the thrum of adrenaline. He’s never sure if it’s the serum or the years of combat under his belt, but there’s a simplicity to sinking into habit and letting his body take over.

The warehouse exists in its own world. He isn’t sure how much time passes, only that his shoulders grow heavy and sloppiness creeps into his movements that tell him it’s been a while. If he’s tiring, then their enemies must be exhausted—what’s left of them.

Two guards remain on the bottom floor. From the fleeting glances he can spare, things seem to be grinding to a close above as well. He grits his teeth, felling another opponent with his shield just as Natasha takes down the other.

Chest heaving, he wipes his glove against his forehead, dabbing away some of the sweat stinging his eyes. A red and gold blur arcs overhead. Stark sweeps over the balcony and into wide open space with an armed guard in each hand. One minute they’re thrashing against his grip on their collars, and the next, they’re sailing down, down, down where they meet the unforgiving pavement. 

He and Steve exchange a terse nod as Sam emerges from behind a cargo crate, guiding a woman in a lab coat.

“She’s alright,” Sam assures him, though the woman’s trembling hands and wide eyes tell a different story. On his other side, Steve spots a man with cracked glasses, looking nervous but steady.

“Looks like Wilson found our civilians,” Tony says, landing a few paces behind him. “Good work, birdman.”

“Where’s Barton?” Natasha asks, scanning the area.

“Making sure the back office is clear,” Sam says as he guides the woman to a seated position. “You’re safe now, ma’am. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

The man with the broken glasses hovers nearby, but before Steve can ask after him, a shout erupts from the backroom. Barton crashes through the wall in a shower of drywall. Stark is there in a split second, catching him before he can collide with the ground.

But there’s no time to check on them. A hulking figure emerges from the wreckage, a man with a scarred, expressionless face that oozes experience. Steve’s heart rate kicks into overdrive as the man levels an AR at him.

“Get down!” Steve roars, hitting the deck as a fresh round of gunfire explodes above him. The air fills with the acrid smell of gunpowder, it burns his eyes as he takes stock of his companions. Natasha has taken cover behind a metal beam, Stark and Barton behind broken cargo panels, and Sam is shielding the civilians under an overturned desk.

Steve’s jaw clenches as he prepares to move. The clearest path to the threat was his. He surges forward, shield raised—half-battering ram and half bullet-repellent. It covers him as he charges headlong into the onslaught. 

He reaches the man in seconds and channels the momentum into a powerful downward swing. The shield cuts the air at the same moment his opponent raises the heavy artillery to meet him. Metal meets metal, the impact sending Steve skidding backward. 

This wasn’t an ordinary soldier—they were dealing with an enhanced being.

In seconds, the man seizes his opportunity and is bearing down on him. His teeth grit together so hard they seem likely to break. He cedes another inch, boots squealing against the ground. His knees threaten to buckle beneath the pressure, but he pushes back. Almost…there…With a grunt of frustration, the enemy leans in.

It’s what Steve’s been waiting for. The man leverages his weight onto the shield. The second he’s beyond the tipping point of equilibrium, Steve rolls out from underneath. Left with nothing beneath him but air, the soldier stumbles forward. In a fluid motion, Steve finds his feet and delivers a well-aimed right hook to the man’s jaw.

The man wavers, disoriented as Steve presses his advantage. Behind him, he hears the telltale noise of Stark’s suit powering up, catches a glimpse of Romanoff and Barton sneaking up on his flank.

They’re moving into position. It’s all a matter of playing for time now. Luckily, Steve’s always been good at causing a distraction.

“So, you get a little serum in you and think you can play major league?” he taunts, circling the man. “Why don’t you tell me who you’re working with and maybe I’ll take it easy on you?”

Righting himself, the soldier lunges with a growl, but Steve dances out of reach, slamming his shield into the man’s ribs. He staggers, then pulls himself up, but Steve doesn’t miss the new limp in his gait.

Romanoff and Barton were nearly in place—

“Enough!” A new voice cuts through the fray.

The warehouse stills as everyone turns toward the source. The man with broken glasses stands at the center of it all, a syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid held to the neck of the trembling woman. “I would think very carefully about your next move if I were you.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. Sam’s hands are up, backing away slowly. The woman’s eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Easy now,” Sam says, his voice calm. “No one wants anyone to get hurt.”

The scientist laughs, wrenching the woman’s head back. His eyes lock on Tony. “You’re a smart man, Stark. Why don’t you guess what’s in here? Or better yet—let’s find out together.”

“Tony,” Steve warns, his voice low even as Stark’s suit powers up with a whirr.

“Even think about pulling that stopper, and I’ll blast you to kingdom come.”

“Alright,” Steve says, trying to de-escalate the situation. “You have our attention. Now, what do you want?”

The scientist smirks. “What I want is beyond your comprehension. But I’ll settle for safe passage for me and my…escort.”

His eyes flick to the hulking soldier, who has staggered to his feet.

“Give us the hostage and the vial, and you have a deal,” Steve counters.

“You strike a hard bargain, Captain.” The scientist’s smirk widens. “But negotiation is all about compromise.”

In a flash, he releases the woman, shoving her forward with brutal force. Sam catches her just in time, pulling her to safety. The soldier moves with inhuman speed, grabbing the scientist and bolting up the stairs.

Steve is off in an instant, vaulting over the railing and chasing after them at breakneck speed. Natasha and Barton are right behind him.

They burst onto the roof just as the helicopter’s propellers began to spin. Steve hurls his shield with all his might. It strikes the blades with a screech, wedging itself between them in a shower of sparks.

The scientist stumbles backward, narrowly avoiding the sparks as his bodyguard levels a gun at Steve’s chest.

Before Steve can react, backup arrives. Natasha and Barton flank the soldier as Tony swoops in overhead.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Stark taunts.

The blades beat relentlessly against the shield, their progress slowing but not stopping. Time is running out.

The scientist seems to realize it too. His grin widens as he holds the vial aloft.

“Barton!” Steve barks as the shield flies free, ricocheting off the brick wall. The soldier hauls the scientist into the helicopter, but not before the vial slips from his grasp, tumbling into the emptiness below.

Stark hesitates for only a moment before diving after it. Steve catches Clint around the waist just as the helicopter breaks free, the cable snapping.

They topple backward as the helicopter becomes a shrinking dot on the horizon. Moments later, Stark reappears, landing a few feet away, holding the vial aloft with a triumphant grin.

“I’ll take my payment in the form of compliments and a really greasy pizza.”

[denimbex1986]

'If you live in London — or indeed any large, fast-expanding British city — you may have looked at those tall, glossy columns of new-build flats, rapidly mushrooming in the city’s outer, lesser-loved patches, and absently wondered who lives there. Andrew Haigh certainly has. Much of his exquisite new film All of Us Strangers roams the echoing hallways and purgatorial wind tunnels of one such spotless high-rise development, as empty as its mandated promises of affordable housing, smelling the fresh, neutral paintwork and searching for signs of life. Few lights are on in its hard, ice-grey facade: one is in the boxy, chicly but impersonally furnished flat of fortysomething screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott), who seems to have chosen this hollow new home as a veritable barrier from human contact. That’s who lives in these glass towers, the film suggests: people wary of living at all.

Adam is a solitary soul, which isn’t to say he enjoys his own company: he nurtures his own loneliness with a writer’s studied self-observation. He’s gay and out — to himself and presumably to the friends we never see — but comes from a generation where that social difference still presses on his mind, where he’s still used to keeping some part of himself hidden. When Harry (Paul Mescal), a young, attractive fellow rattling around a few floors below, knocks on his door with a sheepish grin, a bottle of whisky and a more-than-neighbourly offer of company, Adam briskly sends him back downstairs: you can’t focus on the solemn business of being alone, after all, with a cute Irishman in your bed. 

But something shifts, in his mood or in his mind, and Adam and Harry soon strike up an intimate connection of the type that Haigh, twelve years after breaking through with his gay brief-encounter heartbreaker Weekend, understands with equal parts emotional and erotic intensity. With his life thus hotly ruptured, Adam’s reality tilts further: on an idle nostalgic wander past his childhood home in a garden suburb, he’s startled to find his parents there, alive and well and the same age they were when they died in a car crash in 1987. They’re a little less bewildered, but full of questions for the son they haven’t seen since he was an anxious 11-year-old boy. What’s he doing for a living? What kind of writing? Anything they might read themselves? How’s life in the big city? Why doesn’t he seem happy? Surely he’s met a nice girl by now? No? Oh. Oh. Well, they’re not sure what to make of that.

All of Us Strangers is a special kind of ghost story: one less interested in the supernatural considerations of life after death than in how the uncanny puts the everyday in focus. Adam has never quite come to grips with being orphaned as a child; that has left him in a kind of in-between realm, one foot gingerly in the real world and one nervously outside it, hesitant to embrace any other life that might be lost to him. In an extraordinary performance, Andrew Scott plays him both tenderly and with an acerbic defensiveness, his tense, watchful face occasionally scribbled over with hurt surging to the surface, his gait like a persistent spiritual ache made flesh. He’s wonderfully supported by Mescal, as the life of the party who might need a lifeline of his own, and by Claire Foy and an especially devastating Jamie Bell as loving parents who can’t quite fathom the man they made, gradually realising they weren’t sufficiently there for Adam, even when they were.

I saw All of Us Strangers way back in the summer of last year, and was floored by its elegant emotional maximalism — an iridescent leap into fantasy and melodrama from a filmmaker hitherto versed in fine-grained realism — and, if I’m being honest, by the close-cut acuity of its portrait of unattached queer living in a city and generation moving steadily on from the elastic freedoms of youth. (Why would I, a single, 40-year-old gay writer in London, be hit with a shiver by this? Who can say?) Ordinarily, I would revisit a film before reviewing it a whole two seasons later, but in this case I’m not ready to: I lost my own father in November, and Haigh’s heartsore portrait of grief curdling all those other insecurities strikes me as a little too raw for the moment.

Yet the film, in all its intricately laced beauty and sadness, hasn’t left my mind these last few months. It feels like one to grow with, to revisit in different lights and mindsets, to step back from and later, when the time is right, to hold close once more. And in the meantime, to recall, with some care and concern, when you see one cube of light in a cold, sky-reaching London block.'

[nerdyandglasses]

I didn't know where else to post this. I don't want people that know me to ever read this. I just got this urge to vent, and I feel like this might be the best place.

I feel really numb. It feels like my life's been spiraling out of control for some years now. I look at myself and I see someone I don't recognize. I've lost the essence of the person I used to be. Three years ago, if someone would have asked me to describe myself, I would have said I was a cheery, dedicated, and enthusiastic person. I was not perfect. I was really anxious. I worried just about everything in my life, but I was happy. My day could have been horrible, but at night, when I went to sleep, I was glad to be alive. I was happy to have friends, whom I cherished more than anything, and I had ambition.

I've been going through my contacts recently and I realized that, I don't talk to anyone anymore. Sure, sometimes I text my best friend a silly picture, but, I don't feel like I'm really talking to her. Beyond that, I used to take pride in have a small, yet tight group of friends. I have stopped talking to all of them but my best friend. It's a 100% my fault. I stopped texting them. I stopped calling. I was too engrossed in feeling miserable, or perhaps I just lacked the energy to seem okay, or maybe I was tired of telling them how shitty I felt. It became easier to pull away. Two years ago, I was a very open person. Almost to a fault. Now, I avoid talking about anything that might bring the mood down. I tell myself it's to spare others from feeling burdened by me, but I think I've just run out of energy to talk about how I feel.

The other day my friends and I had a get together. I went, after not meeting them for almost a year. There were some people I could connect to the same way I used to before. Overall though, I felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. I didn't know anything about these people anymore, because I didn't make an effort to reach out. They shared stories about people I'd never heard about, and I had to nod and hum like I understood whatever they were talking about so I didn't feel left out. One of my friends hugged me. He asked me why I hadn't reached out. 'Why did you stop texting? I missed you', he said. I said, 'I don't know'. He said it was okay. I should have felt relief. He understood, he forgave me (i think). But I couldn't help but feel worse afterwards.

I don't know where my life is headed anymore. I don't even feel like there's anything to look forwards to. Some years ago, I had clear goals. I was doing everything in my power to achieve them. And I did. I got a full-ride scholarship to my dream uni in my dream city. It took me years of effort to earn this. And now I'm fucking it all up. Why? Why am i doing this? Every night I stay awake wondering, why am I throwing it all away? For a second, I feel regret. I tell myself it's not too late. The minutes pass though, and numbness sets over me like a blanket once again. 'Why does it matter anyway? Do I even want to keep doing this?'. I guess I really don't want to do anything anymore.

What is wrong with me? Why can't I accept that I won't be a child anymore? Grow up, i tell myself. You're in your twenties, now's when you should be working towards building the life you want. How I wish I cherished the late summer evenings from when I was 8. I wish I'd enjoyed my childhood more. I wish I had dated when I was a teen. Gone out more with my friends.

Nothing's really wrong in my life, so why can't I make an effort? My parents and sibling support me. They've told me and shown me so, countless of times. It still hurts to disappoint them. They used to be so proud of me before, perfect child that I was. They tell me they are still proud, that I don't have to make them proud, but myself. I love them. When i think about ending it, all that stops me is the thought of them. My dad told me all he wishes for is for me to be happy. Two weeks ago, he asked me, 'Are you truly happy?'. I don't know what spurred him to ask me that. I try my best to seem okay around them. I started crying. I said, 'yeah. I am not my happiest right now, but I'm content, and I will be happy after I get a break from school.'

I go back and forth between caring so much is physically hurts, to simply not caring at all. Eight months ago I took the subway to the river near me. I can't swim, and I know the currents are strong. I stayed seated at a bench for hours, just not thinking. i took the subway again, to the hospital affiliated to my university. I stayed seated at the reception area an hour more until I decided it would be an inconvenience for my parents to have to find out I submitted myself to the psychiatric ward.

there's a fog in my mind I can't seem to get rid of. it stops me from thinking properly, i think. I like to blame it for everything.

I had a friend who was suicidal in middle school. I remember him telling me how hopeless he felt sometimes. How he had nothing to look forward to. At the moment, when I was 13, I wasn't able to understand. I distinctively remember telling him that he should just smile! You have so much to look forward to, I would say. I also told him he would miss out on a lot of cool movies and video games if he committed. It was a pretty dumb thing to say.

We spoke about it a couple days ago. We're not friends anymore, but we talk from time to time. He said I was trying my best to cheer him up. He's okay now, or so he says. He seems happy, though.

I had a drink with my best friend the other day. We laughed about the past. It was nice, feeling like I was 12 again. I love talking to her, she makes me feel like I'm a kid again. I guess that's part of the reason I refuse to tell her about how I feel now. Like it'll shatter the illusion. I don't think you'll ever read this, but if you ever do, I'm sorry. I know we said we were each others platonic soulmate. And I know if I had ever lost you, i would have felt devastated. I don't think a bond like ours comes along often. I truly felt like I knew you from a past life. So, again, I'm sorry.

There's this guy i liked. he was really sweet to me. He listened to me, and he wanted to learn more about me. I felt seen by a guy for the first time in my life. He asked me out and I said no, because I felt too low in energy, too ugly and too undeserving. He kept talking to me, he was nice like that. I would write him really sporadically, like once every three months on a random tuesday. This went on for three years. He still answered sweetly. I invited him to a little reunion at my house before I moved away. I invited him with a few hours notice, and he still showed up and helped me set up. Even after I moved away and stopped answering him, he'd send a message every now and then to check in. I never replied. The last message he sent was on april. he forgot about my birthday I think. But it's okay. You really won't ever read this, but you have one of the sweetest kindest souls I have ever encountered, and i wish nothing but the best for you.

I don't know where I'm going with all this, but my fingers hurt from typing and I really just want to close my eyes and go to sleep and dream something nice. i don't think im doing it tonight, not tomorrow either, but I can feel it in my heart that there's no future for me anymore.

I think it would be nice to visit my family one more time before I do it, so i'm waiting until december. I never really liked the cold months anyway.

[warmhugs-and-chocolate]

statistics

inspired  by  :  anna of arendelle / frozen I & frozen II || anne shirley cuthbert / anne with an e || jess day / new girl || adora / she-ra and the princesses of power || mia thermopolis / the princess diaries

full name. anna arnadalr. faceclaim. abigail cowen. dob. june 21 (summer solstice) . zodiac. cancer. occupation. birthplace. arendelle. orientation. undefined . song. that’s my girl by fifth harmony.  film. frozen. education. literature teacher major temperament. sanguine. mbti. enfp. alignment. chaotic good. abilities. none.  hogwarts house. hufflepuff .  emoji (🤩) .  

present !!

anna came to elias as soon as she heard her sister was here! there was no way she was going to let her leave when things were still a bit hectic.

the education and jobs were said to be part of the magic but anna is slowly realizing is the people in it.

after a lifetime behind closed doors it is time for her to make things happen and meet actual real life people, perhaps even, the one?

past !!

full official bio here

 anna went to a far more large quest to find her sister, in the road she faced lots of trials and met all kinds of people, good evil, morally grey. . . she never judged, she learned from them and hoped she made an impact backwards

the quests and adventures led her to become stronger, emotionally and a bit physically if anything she has learned the world is huge and it can be very beautiful as long as we don’t forget to do the next right things

those beliefs of the past are imprinted in her, she believes they come from her dreams, fantasies and stories she read, but the remnants are there

in her solitude, after always being shut down out of her sister’s doors, anna tried all kinds of things tot never get bored, art, writing, reading, knitting, workout, sellf-defense, anything that would help her release her energy

future !!

anna’s main goal is to reach her big sister’s elsa’s heart, to be as they used to, they are family after all, she wants to be there and keep what is left of said family alive and tight, can her love thaw the distance?

she’s naive and can be easily deceived when it comes to her own heart, so gaining strength and a sense of self love and worth would be something she must learn to keep on going

taken connections

elsa arnadalr; biggest sister whom she loves and adores, and wishes to be closer at, if only she weren’t awkward about it

wanted connections

allies and friends, either from a past life to a new one from this doesn’t matter, as someone who couldn’t really be free for years and lost contact with people, true friends would be nice

enemies and rivals, not everything is ice cream and flowers, with anna’s way of act first think later attitude she could’ve made her own list of rivals, besides as much as she tries she can’t please everyone

friend, foe or ‘the one’? someone that takes her need to be loved and is actively deceiving her for their advantage would be interesting

fated true love, or do we defy the stars? yes, a true love for anna would be nice too, she highkey dreams of it, but would treasure it more if it’s real and something that works with time

mentor? someone that maybe has looked over anna and believes she only needs a little guidance, as someone with no parents and a distant sister, she would listen and admire, but above all learn from too

found younger sibling, maybe both were born in different families, realms even, but fate brought them together and anna wants to adopt you into the family, perhaps not literally but you get the deal, everything will be all right because anna will be here not only to protect you but to cause mischief together

hans & kristofflet's twist fate, have fun and see what happens

pinterest moodboard

note: everything is up to change depending on future development and plottting

[tourmelion]

Perfection

~

Tucker talking about the discontinuation of a specific part making the specific tech unfixable after a while and raving about companies ruining their tech so people buy new stuff

Danny in the back ground just puffs out this obscenely large cloud of smoke

Peeps in the comments going wild wondering how that much smoke gets into your lungs

Some think he smokes crazy amounts of weed, which would explain his past behavior

Others just blown away by the sheer volume of smoke think he swallowed a god damn smoke machine

~

Tucker is speaking about the new cooling mechanism for pears computers new waste of money computers, and how it isn't good enough for summer heat and how you're computers overheat cause it's not strong enough

And how when it's cold the liquid cooling box freezes and breaks the box making it melt onto the wires and circuit boards, frying the entire thing

Absolutely raving about how terribly designed this waste of money computer is

Danny just walks in, covered in blood, with a knife in his heart, and he just walks off screen

Comments lose their minds over this

Everyone agrees it's just a bit but it's so realistic, AND, how does he achieve the other stuff

~

Tucker explains why he's not done as many videos recently cause he lost his job and has had to take up a worse one and work more house to keep the lights on

Danny comes in and seconds this, 'yeah, he's been busting his ass, lay off in his branch, probably cause of the manager, he'd mess with everything'

Lights suddenly cut out, the only thing illuminating the room is the setting sun and Danny's glowing eyes

The photo and video editors not understanding how they were able to make his eyes glow without it looking weird with that green shade. The depth is difficult to achieve

The Photoshopers are asking just how he made that happen

The rest of the comment section are split between this being an ARG and Danny being a genuine cryptid, and one guy saying he may be an alien, dib in the comments saying how his whole eye was glowing, hinting at contacts being used, or possibly a robot LED and plastic eyes, that hes some hyper mobile animatronic, no one believes it

~

Tucker is explaining the new piece that came out for PC modifications, Danny walks in looking at his phone, suddenly he looks up with an inconvenienced face with his torso hidden by tucks chair, Danny starts sinking, comically to the floor out of view. Tuck spins his chair to the side to get an older piece to compare to the newer one

Danny is gone

He isn't on the floor

He just disappears

By now the whole comment section loves this silly little man and his randomness and sillyness

He's now dubbed Dan the strange

Also being called the creature

Others name him the skin walker

Others make even more outlandish theories he's a bunch of rats piloting a robot costume

He's an interdimensional being and that's why he acts so strange

Some say that Danny isn't even alive

Tucker never mentions him

He's a ghost haunting his house doing weird ghost stuff

A spirit

By now both Tuck and Danny are clued into the comments theories and how much they enjoy Danny's confusingness

They both share a laugh about it

AND THEN, WES WESTLEY ENTERS THE SCENE

By now everyone thinks it's a skit, but then this guy comes in as some crazy conspiracy theorist saying he's a ghost or a zombie

Everyone is convinced he's a connected account made by Tucker and Danny to expand the bit

Danny and tuck are extatic at this new development

The more he tries to convince people he's telling the truth the more deranged he looks

And dib comes in and says some other stuff about other features that could imply Danny is another cryptid

They go back and forth speaking absolute nonsense from the publics POV, aliens having glowing eyes, zombies need to stay cool to keep their skin from rotting, they eat people, hence Danny wishing to soupify people. They argue about all sorts of details to the delight and amusement of everyone

Danny and tuck are loving this

The Viewers

Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham

Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.

He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.

Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.

~

Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"

Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling

Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.

~

Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech

His viewers looking behind him at Danny

Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying

~

Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers

Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"

Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"

~

Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"

His viewers watching Danny:

~

Just an Idea

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[killmebythebeach]

A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.

I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.

George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.

Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3

Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.

Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.

Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.

Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.

Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.

Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.

Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.

Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.

The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.

Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.

Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.

Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.

Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.

Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.

Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.

Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.

Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.

In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.

HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.

Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.

Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.

Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.

Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.

Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.

Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.

Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.

Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.

Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.

Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.

Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.

Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!

This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.

[uwuwriting]

Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

 Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative. 

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low. 

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12. 

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end. 

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating. 

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair. 

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate. 

 -He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there. 

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry. 

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye. 

-This was unfair. 

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well. 

-So he hides it. 

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts. 

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate. 

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life. 

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group. 

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This  whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal. 

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge. 

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking. 

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though. 

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe. 

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible. 

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own. 

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air. 

-It was stunning. 

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention. 

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF. 

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you. 

-You knew he was your soulmate. 

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate. 

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you  held off for months. 

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder. 

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone. 

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining. 

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years. 

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive. 

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate. 

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it. 

-This reassured him all throughout middle school. 

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain. 

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger. 

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.  

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string. 

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again. 

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time. 

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done. 

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go. 

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with. 

-Then he felt it. 

-The lightest tug at his finger. 

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again. 

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls. 

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school. 

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger. 

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt. 

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning. 

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall. 

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?” 

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.” 

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand. 

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure. 

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake. 

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him. 

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there. 

-You were half wrong in that one….I think. 

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13. 

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest. 

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate. 

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all. 

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist. 

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored. 

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist. 

-So he confided in someone. 

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life. 

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened. 

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to. 

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration. 

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly. 

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name. 

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.” 

-He did find his happiness. 

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected. 

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year. 

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed. 

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings. 

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier. 

-He was  relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice. 

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.” 

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him. 

- “Wow you can see everything from here.” 

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.” 

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.” 

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.” 

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists. 

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin. 

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”  

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[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part II)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Coming home is melancholy and cold, and your squadmates ask you to do what you couldn't do for a year: speak up and find out what's going on inside Eren's mind.

Words count: 5.3k

They say that when a loved one leaves this world, the days follow turns gray, colorless; How ironic to think that the day we buried Sasha was gray, there wasn’t a trace of the blue sky or some solar ray that could give us the warmth we were lacking. It was cold, a cold that got into your bones and no matter how many hugs and words of mutual support we gave each other, we couldn’t get the warmth we needed.

My soul had been fragmented the moment Sasha left this world, but seeing my friends cry at her grave and leave bouquets of flowers, it fragmented even more. I wasn’t able to meet Nicolo's eyes, my guilt prevented me. Inside, I wanted this Marleyan to yell at me, to tell me that he hated my presence, that Sasha's death had been my fault, and that I should have given my life if it meant saving her. I wanted with all my being that he would give me a reason to really feel guilty.

On the way back to the island, the others assured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I did everything possible to keep her alive. But my ineptitude, my grief, my low self-esteem prevented me from seeing things clearly. I just needed… something to hold onto.

And I wasn't getting anything.

I felt how I was slowly sinking into the rabbit hole, without the possibility of clinging to a tree root. I was falling, falling, falling, unable to know when I would hit bottom. But that bottom came fast before I could have predicted, because minutes after Nicolo arrived, Sasha's father arrived too, bouquet of beautiful red flowers in hand.

I broke myself. The two people who longed for Sasha most in their lives were standing in front of me, mourning the loss of her young soul. The two people who would hate me the most in the world, standing over my friends's grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and in front of her grave, silently begging for forgiveness.

My tears fell incessantly on the freshly stirred earth as did my fingers, imploring this burden on my chest to dissipate, as if unconsciously I was wishing for Sasha herself to forgive me for letting her die. How could one cope with this heinous feeling? How could I go on, knowing that the world was falling around us, unable to know if the next day we were going to be alive or if Marley would initiate an attack from which we weren’t going to be able to defend ourselves?

My head was racing a thousand per second and the only thing I could let out were those sobs that had accompanied me so much on the way back, the same ones that cradled me to slept, and the tears that so much wanted to dissipate the pain in my soul.

It is said that when a person leaves this world, some people are unable to handle grief, just as they are unable to articulate a word. Apparently I was one of those people.

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Nights and days passed. Those of us who survived the attack on Marley stayed in commune trying to encourage ourselves to continue fighting. Hange had recommended us to rest, since the psychological damage could cause us several injuries in the future, and as for Eren ... we weren’t very aware of him. The last we heard from our commanders is that he was locked away from all human contact, stipulating that it would be better to keep him locked up for a while and let whatever shit that was going through his head dissipate.

But that was complete bullshit. I knew that, even locking him up, they weren't going to be able to change the thoughts that tormented Eren so much. I knew that, whatever was wandering through his mind, he wasn’t letting him alone and he would never let go. How did I know that? Because I spent a whole year trying to get him to let me enter in that shell he has been forming in recent years. I tried very hard to get him to tell me his plan before he went to Marley, but I got nothing, and I still get nothing.

My gaze was lost in the window. The nights grew colder and colder and I hugged my arms as I watched the sunset. The boys were arguing about something, something that Mikasa didn't seem to find funny at all, but my mind wasn’t connected to reality. I just stared out the window, remembering the old days when we'd sneak out to steal a piece of meat from the supply warehouse with Sasha and Connie.

I remembered the nights when the boys sneaked into the women's hut to keep each other warm in our days as recruits. I remembered how Armin let me practice my medicine methods on him when he got hurt, a practice that was lost when he inherited the power of the Colossal Titan.

I remembered how we would escape at dawn, grab a few horses and ride out to the ocean, taking nice cool baths on the warm moonlit summer nights. Now those moments only remained in that, in memories.

"(Y/N) are you listening?"

My gaze detached from the window, now it was fixed on a Connie who looked just as tired of the world as I did. This dwarf turned giant was just as devastated as I was by losing half of him, and yet he was still able to continue fighting alongside our friends.

"We think you might be the most suitable to go talk to Eren"

Armin's calm voice stripped me of any desire to go back to the old moments. I pulled myself away from the window tiredly and let my body unconsciously guide me to one of the couchs in the middle of the room, next to the blonde. Apparently while I was wandering in my thoughts, the tension in the room had reached a point where it could be cut with a simple wave of the hand.

As I sat down, I was able to take a better look at the room. From what I could analyze, the group had divided into two, those who still trusted Eren and those who did not, each with their reasons, and apparently, I was playing the role of mediator. The responsibility fell on me to move the pieces of the board: to talk to our supposed war partner and beg him to tell us about his plans and the demons in his head, or to dethrone him completely.

"What makes you think I can go talk to him?"

My words came out of my mouth colder and sharper than I would’ve liked, but it was the simple truth. If Eren was willing to push each other away to accomplish his task, what was I going to accomplish after a year without having answers to his thoughts?

"I haven't been able to speak to him openly in a year"

Armin and Mikasa gave me completely stunned looks. Not even their childhood friend had told them that his relationship was falling off a cliff.

"I didn't know, I thought you were fine"

"Well, we are not fine at all Armin"

I knew it wasn't fair for Armin to get all my frustration, he wasn't guilty at all. I looked him in the eye and I could find multiple feelings in those huge blue eyes: sadness, compassion, guilt, overwhelm. I knew he was one of the worst going through it, his childhood friend was no longer entirely reliable; he had carried out acts of sheer violence and had become the enemy he hated the most; Armin had become his worst enemy and his eyes clearly showed it.

And it was those same eyes that begged me to do something, to go and talk, to try to figure out the smallest thing we could use to get out of this mess Eren got us into. They implored me to save his soul brother from his mental prison.

I let out a long breath before getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

"I highly doubt that I will achieve anything, but I will try to talk to him"

I took one last look to the guys in front of me before leaving the room, each one wishing me luck and pleading for my well-being with their eyes, and sinking even further into the rabbit hole, or rather, going straight to ventured into the lion's den.

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

The road to the dungeons was long and heavy, but not because of the number of blocks and alleys I had to take, but because of what was waiting for me at the end of the road. Upon coming into contact with the stone walls and their semi-armored doors, the blood on my body ran cold, just as it ran cold when we buried Sasha.

The air below the ground was cold, the smell of mold and dirt entered my nostrils, preventing me from taking a couple of steps without feeling like vomiting. The place really needed a better cleaning, otherwise it would be the epicenter of a huge plague.

At the end of the corridor, where the light was dimmer and let the darkness eat much of the cell, was Eren. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on his supposed bed, staring directly at the wall, or so it seemed; knowing him he was surely lost in his world. I kept my composure, avoiding giving any trace of my emotional and psychological state.

"Hi"

I got no response, as always.

I had the opportunity to inspect his cell, it was quite untidy and dripping with water, coming from the sink which was covered to the top. Unconsciously I prayed that this water was drinkable or at least that it was not too polluted, since I didn’t have to look completely at the brunette in front of me to know he had put his head in that same water.

"I like your hair, looks very smooth"

"What do you want?"

His voice came out calm but imposing and terrifying at the same time, I would be lying if I said I didn’t startle a bit, but I kept my composure as best as possible to avoid showing the fear in my eyes. Eren may not have noticed, but if he did, he was unfazed.

"The guys think that I can talk to you, but I told them they were completely wrong, I mean...we haven't been able to speak like we used to for a year, maybe more"

My words came out of my mouth like the venom of a snake. I couldn't tell if my intention was to make him feel guilty, or at least feel something, to reflect on my words, but guess what… his eyes didn't even leave the wall behind me.

I crossed my arms and rested my body on one of the bars, hoping to have some intimidating way for the damn bastard to decide to speak. Even though bullying wasn't my thing, I, yes, had a tired face and wasn't there to waste my time, but I had to achieve something, get something, whatever, so I could get out of this damn place.

"You know very well that I'm not going to leave until you say something"

His eyes met mine for a few seconds and then returned to their original position. I knew this was going to be difficult, but I couldn't help my irritation growing from my chest. With every minute that passed, the pain in that area was increasing and a lump in the throat was appearing with each tear that I wanted to avoid shedding.

I'd been through shitty days and had to come alone to the exact place I least wanted to be to talk to the person I least wanted to see.

"I'm used to being on my feet for long hours, I can be here all day, and that's exactly what I'm going to do"

I remained planted in front of the cell, positioning myself with crossed arms right in front of his eyes, preventing them from continuing to look at the miserable wall.

But my bad luck wasn't giving me any sign that I was going to win this fight very soon. Although I was covering his peripheral field, his eyes never deigned to look at me, they simply stayed glued to the front, now seeing my body in front, although in reality, he was seeing without seeing.

My patience was running out and this goddamn silent game had only just begun. I had to find something to work with, something that could flicker him or make him angry… anger would not be the best if I wanted to leave with all the bones intact and my already psychological trauma without further damage; but knowing Eren, anger was his fuel, which made him move and in an action-reaction effect, made everyone move together behind him.

That's it. Everyone. But we weren't all here.

Sasha was dead; Reiner, Berthold and Annie traitors and enemies of Paradis; Ymir disappeared and confirmed dead, being inherited by the new jaw titan; the only one missing from our group was our beloved Queen. The Queen that Eren so decided to care for and protect.

"You know, Historia is about to give birth"

It was mild, but I could feel his body tense. His eyes moved just the same slightly, but in those little acts I knew I had struck a chord. And I was willing to use it, even if it meant destroying my sanity and causing one of Eren's greatest worldly anger.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little baby on the squad?" I took a deep breath before launching the second impact of the night, preparing to receive whatever blow came next. "After all, it's your child, right?"

His body moved faster than I could ever achieve and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to pull away in time. His hand grabbed my shirt, drawing me towards the bars and hitting my cheeks on each one, now my face was directly in front of him, my field of vision being just his face and finally, his eyes were focused on mine.

"Don't even think about talking about Historia like that"

If looks could kill, surely I would already be dead on the ground. His grip on my chest was strong, he was even capable of ripping the fabric, but with a push back showed me that it wasn’t strong enough, that everything was a facade. I staggered, almost fell to the ground, but either way, I kept my balance and my expression. I was terrified inside, but I forced myself to keep a stoic look at all time, he was trying to play with me and although I was not entirely sure how much there were just words and how much were an act of anger and violence, I couldn’t dedicate myself to having a hint of doubt.

"Easy, Romeo, I know you're not the daddy...or are you?"

I adjusted my clothes, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I stared into his eyes, I would get a much worse look than the one he gave me a few seconds ago.

"Whatever, you gave me something to work with, Historia knows something and didn't tell us...gee, I wonder why"

I leaned my body against the cold stone. My gaze went everywhere, trying to keep avoiding his eyes and incidentally have a stronger support for my figure.

"The Queen doesn’t have to say anything to anyone"

Ohhh, you little shit.

If that's the game you want to play, then you're going to lose.

Even if his words were absolutely right, we shouldn’t forget that, before she was queen, Historia had been our friend during training and the entire year of accumulated trauma between betrayals and deaths. If we could continue to have conversations with her and were invited to participate in political meetings, then we had every right to be informed of the supposed plan that Eren implanted in our queen's mind.

For a moment I was scared by the physical and emotional state of Historia. Was Eren capable of keeping her threatened? Did he say or do anything to keep her quiet? The questions seemed to have no head or tail, but if Eren was able to grab me the way he did, I can't imagine what he could do to keep someone quiet.

"Yes, you are right, in the same way, trust only the queen before your friends... that’s brave"

I searched the corridor and the cell for something I could use to attract his attention again, if it was necessary for me to use violence against him, I would be willing to do it. My eyes met a chain anchored to the wall, quite a long chain, to tell the truth. And on the other side, reaching almost the middle of the corridor, I could make out a rather dirty cloth.

I glanced at Eren who had sat back down on his bed, head down in his hands, and walked down the hall with one goal in mind. I grabbed the cloth and walked back to the cell, standing in front of the bars. I reached out my hand to the sink and started to clean up what was left of the spilled water.

"It's all soaked, incredible that they keep a cell like this"

Without taking my eyes off the sink, I could hear Eren settling on his bed, perhaps sitting upright. I kept running the dirty cloth over the water, honestly I wasn’t achieving much apart from spreading the now dirty water even more, but I had to continue with the facade of an understandable couple.

"It's a complete mess...were Historia's legs like this when you railed her?"

As before, Eren had quickly stood up, ready to grab my hand that was inside the cell, but I was already better prepared. When I felt his fingers touch my wrist, I turned my hand to anchor it on his arm and draw him towards the bars, having that same arm outside the cell. With half body on the cold metal, my other hand grabbed the missing arm and with all my strength I pulled his limbs towards me, causing his body and head to crash against the bars.

"Do you want to do it the hard way? fine, we'll do it the hard way"

Eren tried to shake off my grip, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins prevented him from loosening even a millimeter. I pushed him and pulled him back to me, stretching his arms even further and hitting his head on the metal.

"What's wrong with you?"

Again, a back and forth motion.

"What is going on in your head?"

Back and forth.

"How much shit can you have in your mind that you are not able to tell your friends?"

Back and forth.

"TELL ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!"

With one last impact, I hit Eren's head and heard the fibers and tendons in his shoulders rip, just as his skin began to stretch and break, revealing the flesh and muscle beneath it. Rivers of blood flowed over his arms, dropping to the floor and turning his skin red.

His head was also bleeding to the side, soaking his torso and rebel hair. A pool of blood formed under our feet. I let go of his arms and then grabbed the chain that was on the wall and chained him. Considering the number of times he hab been chained since his fifteen years, I suppose one more time wouldn't do any harm to his already traumatized mind.

When I saw his hands were secure I dropped to the floor, not caring about the blood that now adorned the cold stone floor. I could feel my ass starting to get soggy and sticky from the substance. I would have to burn this pants when I got out of there.

Both my mind and my breath hitched, enveloping the environment. I tried to calm down and clear my mind to continue this hell of interrogation. I knew I shouldn't have agreed, and now look at what situation I was in.

"You know I can transform and use the power of the warhammer titan to get out of here"

Eren seemed withdrawn from his situation, as if bleeding to death didn't matter in the least. Steam came out of his shoulders, a sign that he was in the process of regeneration and prayed that this process would take a long time to materialize.

“I know…” I tried to calm my voice and breath before speaking again “but if you transform now, you would end up killing me, and killing me means betraying the legion, and betraying them means betraying the people of Paradis… you don 't want that, do you? "

My words may sound sly, but inside I was wanting to run out of there, get under the covers of my bed and sleep until the day of doomsday; I was even wishing to die in that sleep.

"I'm going to stay here until I know once and for all what's going on in your head, because I know that whatever shit is in there… it's killing you."

Now we were both looking into each other's eyes, fighting a battle in silence, seeing who would give up first. We held eye contact for a few long minutes, unable to tell how many. Maybe it was a couple, maybe half an hour or even an hour; whatever the time, I was already getting bored.

"If I had known it would take so long, I would have brought something to read"

"What has you so worried that you can't even tell Hange or the heichou?"

My question came reluctantly out of my mouth, as if my ability to fight was fading. I was already very tired and it seemed like days since I entered the dungeons.

"Noone would be able to understand"

"Oh please! Don't take me for a fool. Do you think that none of them are battling their own inner demons? Do you think that only you can have intrusive thoughts to fight against?"

His comment irritated me to the core. I never found Eren such a selfish person, and to think that a year or so ago he was declaring his unconditional affection to all of his comrades.

What happened in the last year? What changed?

"Each one of them has to face their own internal wars every day"

Before my anger got the best of me, I took a few small breaths, calming myself. I wasn't going to put me on the same level of hatred and misunderstanding as him, even if it meant throwing away all the years we were together.

"Historia surely has to fight against the stress and the multiple responsibilities that being a queen entails, apart from fighting against the offensive comments of the military police"

Maybe the island has been rid of Titans for a long time, but that didn’t take away the fact that shitty people, like those who lived on the Wall Sina, decided to try and continue controlling the poor people who were split the loin so those ungrateful would have a feast every night.

"Connie is struggling every day against losing his other half, his twin"

Connie, Jean, everyone ... EVERYONE! We were fighting and suffering the mourning of Sasha, of our teammates.

"Shit, surely Jean is still struggling with the memory of Marco after so many years"

Yes. No one had forgotten Marco, especially Jean. But we had to learn to keep going on that very day, we couldn't afford to get sentimental and spoil the next missions. From that day on we learned to watch over our dead mates in silence.

"I fight every day against my incompetence"

And now was the time that I could begin to veil my demons once and for all.

Already my body was begging to rest. I had laid my head on the wall and fixed my gaze on the ceiling. I heard the chains move at my side, a sign that Eren was moving, but I didn't have the strength to look him in the face.

"I fight every day against the image of Sasha dying in my hands"

I know that memory is going to haunt me until the day I die.

"I fight every day against the memories of our comrades dying in battle"

I saw countless deaths throughout the year 850, so many that I decided to use my knowledge in medicine to help even to stop a bleeding. I still remember the first suture I made to a mate already lost in battle ... I was so excited, so happy to be of such help.

"I fight every day against the idea of ​​not being enough"

But that exaltation led to thousands of failures. People who had bled internally, who had lost an arm and couldn’t get to cauterize, hundreds who had lost half their stomach or head.

"I fight every day against our enemies on the other side of the sea"

I wasn't going to deny it, learning the pure and exclusive truth of the world, I couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for the Marleyans. I wanted them to pay for the countless deaths and suffering they had caused, I wanted to see them burn, but at the same time I wanted a reasonable explanation.

"I fight the memories of the titans devouring our friends"

Memories of the first day in battle, right at our graduation, when we thought that nothing could happen. How naive we were. And to think that that was just the beginning of a long list of events that would bring us to this moment.

"I fight every day along side with the memories of the team escaping from the base and messing it up to enjoy the summer nights"

Memories of when we would sneak into the palace and take Historia with us, enjoying the air in our faces and running in the valleys of the countryside. Memories of when we ran cows for some strange reason at the beginning of the day.

Memories of when we were racing with the 3D movement gear through the great forests outside the city. Memories of the occasional punch in the face against the bark of a tree for not knowing where we were going.

"I fight every day against the image of the big bright turquoise eyes that I fell in love with"

My gaze fell on those same eyes, but instead of finding the description that I wanted to see so much, I only found grayish green eyes, eyes that had lost all their brilliance.

I found eyes full of tiredness and anger for the world. The brilliance that so characterized Eren had been lost; now I would have to settle for a blank stare.

"I fight every day ... against the memory of our return to the rooms and Levi punishing us for weeks"

My voice was breaking as I remembered the nights when only Eren and I would sneak out to spend quality time alone. Those nights where we would lie down to see the stars or to lose ourselves in each other in some meadow.

I look at my hands, they were shaking. I couldn't help but remember the first night we spent together, back then I was shaking too, but Eren's hands on my cheeks dispelled any doubt or fear that I could ever have. I unconsciously smiled at the fond memory and I think Eren did too, as I heard a little laugh coming from him.

But no matter how much smiles and laughter the memories gave me, I had to go on and face the world that was now in front of me.

"I fight every day ... against the idea of ​​running towards you, towards your arms"

Those arms that one day gave me warmth. Those arms that one day hugged and covered me the moment I found out that a mate had died. Those strong arms that I knew were going to protect me from any harm.

"I fight against the hope that this is all a nightmare, that you are going to cradle me in your arms and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that it was just a bad dream"

My gaze returned to his, now filled with tears. It hurt, the cruel truth hurt a lot.

"I fight against the desire to stay by your side"

Eren's face was dark, he had returned to how he was at the beginning, without any trace of that soft laugh I heard a few seconds ago.

"I fight with my inner voice that tells me that everything will be fine, that in a few years it will not hurt as much as it does now"

Maybe ... maybe I can start over and when all this nefarious war is over I can find peace, once and for all, and enjoy my friends.

"I fight to move on"

...

"I fight every day...against you"

That was it.

I stood up heavily, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. The blood on the floor was already dry and had left the entire back of my pants stained. I hadn't noticed that the air had been permeated with the iron smell of blood, making my vomiting reflex worse, even though I had avoided it in a good way all this time.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you"

His figure was already fully regenerated and I knew it was a matter of time before he transformed and left this filthy place. Eren might trust what he was doing was the right thing to do, but if he didn’t accept that in the eyes of the world, that in our eyes, his friends, the only family he had left, couldn’t understand his actions, then there wasn’t much to ask from him.

If he wanted to betray us, let him do it.

“Do what you have to do to fulfill your dream, I don't care anymore. But don't expect for me to sit around and wait for you"

"Are you planning to go to the other side of the sea?"

What a stupid and dubious question at the same time. Was I willing to leave my life in Paradis to start over even in the lands of the enemy?

No, not at all. Why I was no traitor.

"No Eren, I am not going to Marley, my family is here...but you are no longer part of it"

Those words hurt, but they needed to be said; that way I could already start to heal.

"Is that all you have to say?"

I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or a sincere question. But yes, it was all I had to say. I couldn't spend another minute in front of someone I didn't even know anymore.

"It's all I can bear"

I took one last look at the prisoner in the cell before turning and continuing down the long corridor of the dungeons.

"Are you leaving so soon? I thought I heard you would stay as long as it takes for me to speak"

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath of the foul smell of the environment. My hand lay on the doorknob and was half open when his words reached my ears. There was no need to shout from a distance, the echo of the stones made it easy for me to hear the smallest whisper of the perpetrator. I opened the door, but not before dedicating my last words.

"Goodbye Jaeger"

And behind me, I closed the door.

[multistanismsarchive]

In the Morning | Ateez

FANDOM: Ateez

PAIRING: YeosangxSan, HongjoongxWooyoung

WORD COUNT: 4417

RATING: Everyone

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Mentions of abuse, violent thoughts, 

SUMMARY: He left life as a mafia prince with little to keep him going but a promise. It seems perhaps fate has other plans.

Part One | Part Two

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The night air was crisp as a dark clad figure moved quietly from the shadows of the property towards the large mansion filled with lights and music. Summer was beginning to fade into fall, and the weather was just on the other side of chilly. The job was one he had done several times, the life of a mercenary was like that. Yet this job, unlike any other, had him on edge. The heightened alert came because unlike any other assignment he had taken on, this one was a risk he hadn’t thought he would ever have to take. Because he knew the target, had called them one of his best friends. He had grown up to know those in the inner workings before he’d forgone it all after a terrible argument. ‘It’s what happens when you take on a job based on pay alone.’ he thought, dark hair falling just slightly into his face as he climbed through the shadows, clad in a dark blue outfit with a hood of the velvet cape up to hide his features. He absolutely could not be caught, because, the consequences if he does? 

San doesn’t know how he would handle running into his old life if anyone got too close and realized he was alive and present at such an event. 

He makes his way into the event from a large patio that leads into the very well tended garden. The terracotta stones that made the shape were familiar; the summer home of the Kim family. Tonight was a celebration; the former head of the Kim family would be stepping down and Hongjoong, one of the family’s more talented children, would be taking over family and business affairs alike, though really they were one ad the same. Hongjoong wasn’t tall like his father, but San knew that he could be just as ruthless when it came to the family business. Despite the anxiety over being there to kill the man, there was a kind of homesick ache in San’s chest as he slipped in among the party goers in their own masquerade attire, tugging the hood back so as not to look suspicious. San himself was dressed to match the overall attire theme. A form fitting ensemble reminiscent of a vampire, no tie with the first two buttons of the shirt undone, a dark velvet of midnight blue hooded cape adorning his shoulders. 

Eyes were decorated with contacts that changed his dark gaze into a vibrant poison green, the carefully chosen masquerade outfit fitting his form perfectly. This was once his life, lavish gatherings due to his father, idle chit chat and more often than not, stolen kisses in shadowed hallways. Sneaking off to do something fun with friends instead of listening to boring adult conversations. He was once part of eight; a kind of band of brothers; children of the most prominent families. As a kid, San had thought he would have seven brothers, but in time that became six brothers and one lover. That deviance was what worried San, because his leaving had everything and yet nothing to do with that lover. His mind is whirling with the consequences if he's identified, and when he hears a voice, he's stunned into freezing.

"Your costume is divine."

‘Fuck.’ San knows that voice; the eldest of the friends he left behind. Park Seonghwa. 

San has to calm himself as he turns, a charming smile curving his lips. Seonghwa is wearing an outfit akin to a pirate, white cloth accenting a leather corset as the male sported pink hair and a black and gold mask reminiscent of a pair of wings. It has a feminine tone to it, but it's something Seonghwa has always been able to pull off. It stuns San now more than ever that his little band of friends have such beautiful visuals, but can be so cruel and detached when need be. Such is the life of being connected to the mafia. San gives a hum as he gives a slight bow, cape wisping around his arm in the movement. "You're quite the sight as well, sir." he mused, giving a faint curve of his lips.

  “Thank you. It’s a match to our new leader.” Seonghwa answers. “He announces his left and right hands tonight, as well as finally revealing the person he intends to marry.”

“Oh? Who is the lucky person?”

“Everyone knows them. I’ve been sworn to keep it a secret, until the torch is officially passed on.” Seonghwa gives a little bow, holding out his hand. “Might I have this dance, darling?”

San knows he shouldn’t. This life wasn’t his anymore, but he missed his friends. He missed feeling like he belonged somewhere. And, well, San knew that Hongjoong and Seonghwa had once been in a kind of ambiguous relationship of sorts. Perhaps that was the secret engagement. It would make sense, and San didn’t want to think about that knowledge. That knowledge brought hope, and a reminder of brown eyes and dark hair with soft touches. But there was no returning to that life, of that San was certain. His father would end him if he even spotted him at the gathering. His brief moment of distraction gives Seonghwa the opportunity to grab his hand and pull him towards the dance floor. “Are you sure you should be dancing with a stranger?” San asks, head cocking to one side as he settles into the dance with the taller male.

“Is anyone really a stranger here?” Seonghwa asks in return. “This crowd has been the same since I was a child, all that’s changed is ages.” 

The chuckle that passes through San’s lips is both involuntary and can be read a number of ways. His next words are meant to play that sound as a kind of stereotypical belief. “I suppose being a part of this world your whole life will have that effect.” There’s a low hum as Seonghwa holds him close and they move, and San finds a familiarity in it. The eight of them would dance with each other all the time in the past, taking turns making onlookers question and be amused at their antics. 

“Without a doubt, it will numb one to the chatter.” Seonghwa answered, tilting his head. “You have quite the affinity for dancing.” he commented. 

“My parents insisted I know dances from all over the world.” San said vaguely, deciding to twist it so he wasn’t as obvious. “I traveled with my parents a lot, and my mother wanted me to be prepared should we come across anyone of note.” 

“I wish I could say the same. Myself and most of my friends only had each other and whichever nanny was assigned to whichever of us was hosting. We’re a band of brothers, no doubt.” Seonghwa replied, going quiet for a moment before his eyes found San’s. “You know, you remind me of one of our dear friends we lost.” The weight in Seonghwa’s words weigh on San’s mind as he hums inquisitively. Did they truly miss him?

“When did they die?”

“He didn’t, as far as we’re concerned. He just went missing. We believe his father was an idiot and drove him away. It’s a tragedy, really.” He shakes his head a little. “Not a day goes by that we don’t search for him.” San can’t help but feel the sadness in Seonghwa’s tone, bright green eyes watching the older’s face. “No one has taken it as hard as Yeosang, though.”

“Kang Yeosang?”

“Yes. Though few outside of our friends knew for certain, he and San were a divine pair.” Seonghwa answered with a nod. “I think Yeosang blames himself for San’s disappearance.” 

“Why would he blame himself?” It’s an honest question, because San knows why he left, but he’d never said anything about what led up to it. 

“We don’t know, honestly. All we know is that San’s father was reprimanded after attacking him. Any details into why we don’t know. Yeosang doesn’t talk about it.” Seonghwa answered, and if he sees the rage gathered in San’s gaze, he doesn’t mention it.

“What kind of monster attacks a friend of their child?” San asks, anger shifting his tone. 

“I wish I knew. But regardless, it pains me to see Yeosang so distraught all the time. He just isn’t the same.”

“Distraught?” San asked, frowning a little. “Did this San vanish recently?”

“Oh, no. San went missing just over five years ago. Yeosang just hasn’t shown much interest in things since he left.”

The music picks a terrible time to end, because those words take a moment to sink in and as it does, the implication behind it hits him in the stomach so hard he has to fight to stay standing. Five years. Five years that Yeosang and the others have looked for him. It’s a long time to wait and wonder, and San finds his head spinning as his resolve to do this hit falters yet again. He can’t help but look around as they move from the dance floor, seeking out the dark haired prince of the Kang family. Had Yeosang really held on to their youthful promise they’d made so many times growing up? He knows he’s caught when Seonghwa laughs quietly.

  “Keen on trying to change his mind?” 

“Maybe I am. If the rumors are true, Yeosang is one of the most beautiful people in our world.” It’s said with an air of distraction, and San isn’t sure if Seonghwa believes him. His search is halted by a champagne tumblr being handed to him from a tray passing by. Green eyes meet brown and Seonghwa gives a little bow. 

“Do enjoy the party, dearest. I must return to my leader.” The parting words spoken, San is helpless but to watch Seonghwa leave, and he finds himself in such a hard place that it’s hard to get his mind right. He was here to fulfill a contract, and as he stood to the side, he couldn't quite clear his head to reach that point. These boys were his family; Hongjoong and Seonghwa had always been the unspoken leaders, their protectors and more like parents than most of their actual parents. And Yeosang…

Yeosang was an angel. His angel. He had always been beautiful, and even though appearance was a factor, it wasn't what had always drawn San to him. It had been the way Yeosang saw their world. The pair were two sides of a coin, and late night conversations hadn't been uncommon. The only person as close to San as Yeosang was Wooyoung, who had unwittingly (as far as San and Yeosang were aware) poured gasoline on the spark of passion between them. But there had never been anything but pure love between he and Yeosang, San would give the world to the older male. San’s mind is reeling as he lets his eyes wander, very aware of the danger and risks. Should he finish this job? Is he truly capable of it? Can he really destroy the lives of the few people he actually cares about? Why did it have to be Hongjoong?

‘Why am I here?’

It’s a thought that has San slinking into the corner of the room where lights don’t reach as well, champagne flute left on a passed table as he finds his way into some semblance of privacy in the corner. He leans back against the wall, arms crossing over himself as he tries to think. Agreeing to talk to the messenger about the assignment, saying he can handle it, was it a lie? Why had he let himself be distracted by the bittersweet nostalgia of a life he had so angrily abandoned? In hindsight, none of the boys he knew were responsible for the actions of his own father, and even though he knows his father holds little to no bearing or influence on anything that involves the families any longer, it’s still a fear. Returning to this life, to his friends, to the one person he would die for if asked? It’s so many questions and not enough answers in his head and he’s painfully aware that the window he has to act if he plans to collect the payout is closing quickly. A hush spreading through the mass of guests drags San from his mind and he looks towards where the guests have turned their attention, and it was easy to spot where Hongjoong and his father were. And seeing his friend, the confidence and power that Hongjoong exuded, broke the will San had to end his life. The eight of them had always talked about causing change, forcing it when the time came. All the plans laid out over years of childhood together, and tonight Hongjoong was one step closer to that, a goal all of them felt was a necessary event to really keep the power of the families from being taken away. Still hidden among the back wall’s shadows, San watched as Hongjoong’s father began speaking. 

“Hello and good evening, my dear friends and associates,” the speech began. “I want to thank each and every one of you for attending tonight’s celebration.” The table the man stood behind was elegantly decorated to match the theme of the party, and Hongjoong stood to his right, his outfit matching Seonghwa’s attire in color scheme as well as a pirate like design. San found amusement in the idea of his friends dressed as pirates on the night Hongjoong took over control. Was it some kind of foreshadowing, had all their plans become a scheme to bring about the change all of them had wanted? He takes in the way Hongjoong stands so tall, patient as his father speaks. “Tonight, the Kim family passes to a new head of family. It is an honor to pass the title to my son Hongjoong, as he will continue to honor the legacy of the Kim name.” There’s more to the speech, and San takes his time to push off the wall and get closer in order to look around the room and try to find the others of his group. 

Yunho was off to one side in a large chair, the cream and black colors shaping his outfit as well. Where Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s outfits were more clean cut with a few frayed ends and nuances, Yunho’s had frays that brought more life to the pirate aesthetic. The male’s dark hair was unstyled, and he had another male sitting on one arm - which upon more examination San realized was Mingi; the one most considered to be the gentle giant. Mingi’s attire had a kind of abandoned military feel to it, the black jacket hung open and distressed to reveal the cream colored shirt beneath. He was holding a glass of his own, watching where Hongjoong stood. Another sweep of the room gives him sight of Seonghwa standing near Wooyoung, who was clinging to Jongho like a little kid, which wasn’t surprising. Wooyoung was chaotic but meant well, always affectionate and forcing playful banter on everyone to lighten the mood of their often boring life. Looking around gave San pause, however. He took a longer moment to rescan faces, but still someone was missing. Yeosang. 

Had he even attended the party? Why would he not be there to see Hongjoong take the throne? It was something all of them had talked about so fiercely. Was that why the hit had been planned for tonight? Was seeing their dream finally happen without San here too much for him? The questions that surfaced in the realization that Yeosang wasn’t there stopped when applause erupted, and San realized that Hongjoong was now being given the floor. Green eyes found focus as the older male began to talk, unable to keep himself from smiling as Hongjoong stood tall and held his glass like a gentleman. 

“Hello, friends.” he began, confidence in both his stance and power in his tone. "Tonight marks a celebration for all the families. It is my honor to take the Kim name to greater heights, bring more allies and handle enemies both old and new alike. Every generation has had a hierarchy to replace the old. As the official torch isn't passed until this is announced, I will be revealing them this evening." The swelling murmurs of approval was no surprise for San, if he was honest. Most of the people were only present to see who they needed to stay in good graces with. Though they should all have known by now that the Horizon Boys, as he and the others had been called since they were teens, were like a little family all their own. To insult or harm one was to do so to all eight of them. San, however, was highly intrigued. Whatever seemed to be brewing with his friends, it obviously required filling the necessary ranks. 

"I'd find it strange if any of you were surprised or shocked by the choice of my right hand." Hongjoong continued when the murmuring had died down. "The natural person for me to pick is Park Seonghwa."

"Of course dad would pick mom." San whispered to himself, chuckling. Hongjoong and Seonghhwa - with or without intimate relations - were undoubtedly the parents of their little group. San more than dared to think that perhaps the two older men were better parental figures than any of their own parents, he believed it with his whole heart. He watched with pride as Seonghwa stepped up, taking his place to the right of Hongjoong. To see their dream coming true in person makes San feel safe, warm, and he knows he could never hurt his leader. He could never hurt any one of his friends. He doesn't think as he lifts the glass he holds, unaware that the select few who mimic the action are others of their group. Hongjoong smiles out at the gathering, nodding before his voice rang out again. 

"My left hand, which may surprise some, is our dear Jeong Yunho." Hongjoong declared, and the mix of reactions was obvious but in a way that was positive. Before the noise of that died down, Hongjoong pressed on in his speech. "Most, if not all of you, are aware that just over five years ago, we lost someone very dear to us. Our beloved San, Choi San, went missing suddenly. While his father is no longer associated with our families, San is always welcome. We hope that one day, San will return to us." The words don't surprise San. He never really wanted to go, but it was safer for his friends...or so he'd thought. The revelation about his father attacking Yeosang makes his blood boil. Not a day passes that he doesn't want to return, to be with his friends, to see Yeosang smile. What catches him, hits him in the chest with emotion hard enough that he fights the urge to double over, is the sad acknowledgement from what sounds like everyone gathered in the ballroom. Was his presence missed that much? He didn't have time to dwell as Hongjoong began speaking once more. "My goal as leader of the families, besides bringing more strength and new allies, is to bring about change. A change that has for several generations been whispered in hallways and demonized for public view. We have lived in the old world for far too long, and the only way to truly survive as a unit is to be adaptable. To not only welcome change, but to be among those who start it." The air had a slight chill of unease as Hongjoong continued, but San himself was curious. "With that in mind, I want all of you to know, all those who follow to know, that I want each and every one of you to be comfortable with who you are. And to prove this, I would like to present my fiancé to all of you this evening." Hongjoong's smile was so happy, so genuine and proud, that San couldn't help but smile himself. A hand held out and several people whispered in curiosity around him, wondering who it was. A startled gasp escaped near one side and San tilted his head in the direction. It took a few more seconds, but the grin that curved his lips was pure happiness. Coming up to the front was Wooyoung, despite what had to be nerves. The look on the face of Hongjoong's father was the best of all; shook and clearly hiding that he was upset at his son's choice but now had no say in the matter. Yunho made room for Wooyoung, both he and Seonghwa stepping back to give the pair room, and Hongjoong laced his fingers with the younger male and lifted their hands to kiss the back of Wooyoung's hand. It was undeniably beautiful, not just because of the message, but because Hongjoong was finally confirming the rumor of his lack of preference when it came to gender. The room fell into a thunder of applause and cheers, and San indulged himself as he, too, clapped for his friends. 

It was all stripped away, however, by the feeling of a blade at his back and a hand at his throat. 

He went stone still, breath hitching into an uneven rhythm as he was led out of the room and into the hall that led further into the mansion. The moment the doors click, however, San reacts. One hand slips behind him to smack the blade down, and he drops down on one knee, catching himself as he swings his other leg out, which catches his attacker enough off guard that they stumble away. San turned, drawing his own knife and twirling it between his fingers. Adrenaline is pumping through him as his chest heaves a little and he stares at the figure in the shadows.

"I knew it was you."

It's a voice that makes San's heart leap into a quickened rhythm as much as it causes his blood to run cold. There's only one other person who could be as ruthless as Hongjoong and Seonghwa. One person who would have - should have - no problem putting him down. 

"Yeosang." There's a mix of emotion in San's voice because he isn't sure if this is a happy reunion or tragic. Even shadowed, now that his eyes are adjusting too the darker halls inside the actual manor, he can make out Yeosang's features, the fact that dark hair is bleached into a beautiful blonde with the roots beginning to show. He's as beautiful as ever, and San knows he would be okay dying at hands of the man he loves now more than ever.

Yeosang kneels to sheath his blade back against his boot, straightening and watching San. "We wondered if you'd show." His voice is a balm to San, even with it's softer tone. San is loath to admit that it takes longer than he would like for the words to process because he's still admiring the older male. 

"Excuse me?"

There's a quiet laugh that passes Yeosang's lips, which only adds to San's confusion. "That bounty on Joong was fake. We put it together in secret in hopes of having someone find you, but then Joong heard a rumor that you were doing mercenary work."

"Fancy words. Can't say they're wrong, though. I didn't kill so much as be a thief." San replied. "How did you find out how to contact me specifically?" 

"Come now, you know Wooyoung and Yunho are technical wizards." Yeosang scoffed, the sound amused as he steps closer. "We wanted to bring you home, Sannie." 

The word hits San in the chest like Hongjoong's speech had. Home. Whether any of the others are aware, they're his home. Yeosang is his home. "How did you know I was here?"

Yeosang smirks at him, now standing in front of him. "If you think for a moment that five years is long enough for me to forget how you move, my love, you'll find yourself sadly mistaken. I knew it was you the moment you came in from the veranda." It's news that shakes San in all good ways. Yeosang never forgot him, or their promise. He smiles tenderly as Yeosang speaks again. "Seonghwa took it upon himself to dance with anyone they suspected, but it was for naught. I'd know you anywhere." He laughed a little at the expense of his friends, and San is unable to keep from chuckling along. 

"If you were so certain-"

"I wish I'd have gotten to dance with you first." Yeosang cuts him off, effectively silencing any thought San had been trying to say. "The others missed you, but no one missed you the way I did."

"I left to try and protect you." San explained. "When I told my father I wanted to marry you, he threatened to kill us both. He wanted me gone, Sangie, and I thought leaving would keep you out of his range." His hand lifted to rest along Yeosang's cheek, and despite not being one to show public affection often, the blonde leaned into it and closed his eyes. 

"He blamed me for you leaving." Yeosang whispered. "I fought him about it, verbally. Called him out on being a trash father who just wanted to control everything, even how you felt. I told him he could never hope to know love like we do." The laugh that escapes him is a sad sound. "I guess I took it too far."

"No, you didn't, angel. If he couldn't accept his responsibility for my leaving, then you had every right to put him in his place." San countered, making sure his eyes were locked on Yeosang's. "When Seonghwa said you'd been hurt, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to find you and apologize. I-" he stops as a finger is placed to his lips, and it falls silent between them for what feels like an hour. 

"Don't you ever think you have to apologize to me. You left to try and protect me, San. You put yourself through so much to do so. Don't apologize for that, ever. Okay?" 

"You're oddly soft." San teased, letting his thumb stroke over Yeosang's cheek. 

"You came back to me, San." Yeosang answered. "You kept your promise to come back. It took a long time, sure, but you're home. Of course I'm in a soft mood."