#made myself cry writing this

[hashtagloveloses]

yes nicholas d. wolfwood is gay bc he looks at vash like that and says gay things and has his tits out while flaunting christian imagery but he's ALSO gay because he's not only doomed by the narrative but represents the existential fear queer people (and other marginalized people) have that in a world where life is SO hard and has been FULL of suffering, the minute you find a purpose or community or people to love it is taken away from you before you can live a full life. he isn't like most characters giving a death monologue where they're at peace or some shit he's like PLEASE i wanted to keep living i'm not ready. he JUST realized something about himself philosophically. he found happiness with vash, and meryl, and milly after a life of suffering in a harsh world that wants him dead and my god does that not represent such a queer feeling? when in your worst moments you fear death because this world has made living so HARD and you don't want to die before you can experience any peace? nicholas d. wolfwood you are so important to me

[questforgalas]

HC in my "everyone lives and the batch are all reunited" la la land

Crosshair engraves vulture wings on his rifle, and Hunter notices it first and asks about it, which after Crosshair explains, Hunter then paints subtle vulture wings on his vambraces.

Then Omega notices the wings on Hunter's vambraces, and she finds out so she puts the wings on her helmet.

Then soon after, Tech, Echo, and Wrecker also have vulture wings painted in their styles in various spots on their armor. All subtle, but all visible when you look closely. No one says anything, it just happens, and Crosshair slowly heals every time he sees his family's reminder that he's always been with them

[thatonesimp-e]

Ghostly Viscera // PART 2

TW FOR ANGST. A LOT OF ANGST. AND DEPICTIONS OF DEATH.

Engineer pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated with himself. How could he allow this to happen? What the hell even happened?

He shuddered at the cold air, letting out a soft sigh.

Pauling never told him the finer details, only the basics. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t, or that she did know something. That woman was always keeping secrets, and Dell had a feeling that she favored the RED team.

He felt anger build up in the back of his mind.

How could she favor those bastard murderers..

Dell felt a sort of discomfort build up in his chest, like something was grabbing at him. He coughed slightly, chalking the feeling up to his workshop being dusty. The feeling got stronger, making him grow more and more uncomfortable.

He coughed a few more times, then grunted.

“Damn it..” his voice was slightly hoarse from crying, his throat still painfully closed up.

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

Spy drifted around the man, fidgeting with his hands. Could he not see him..? 

He carefully moved closer, then hugged the man. His body heat was oddly comforting-the warmth a huge difference from his already cold form.

Spy flinched when he heard Engie cough, moving his head over the man's shoulder to check if he was okay.

So far, the man looked fine, just tired.

He moved his hands up to the man’s shirt collar, gently feeling the fabric. For a moment, he’d had a good hold onto it, though, within seconds it slipped-the fabric slipping through his noncorporeal fingers.

Spy noticed the man had an odd reaction to him messing with his collar.

His face scrunched up a little, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, he’d taken a hand, and wiped his face. Engineer had let out a groan, then shifted his body around.

He’d moved with the man, trying his best to match his body movements.

“E-Engie..?” Spy said the man's name, his voice shaky, and weak. He was trying to get his attention, and failing. He couldn’t help but stutter, finding it hard to speak.

The man seemed to pay no attention to Spy, his focus on something else entirely. He stood, a hand moving up so he could pull down his goggles.

Could he not see him? Hear him?

Spy drifted away from the Engineer, his hands gingerly unraveling from where they had been. He was hesitant to pull away at first, finding it hard to let go of the man.

Spy felt like he should have known more about him-he felt important.

There was something keeping him from remembering.

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

It was warm, birds could be heard chirping their familiar melodies. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rubbing together-the noise filling the air. Tall grass followed the trees movement in an almost hypnotic way.

Spy had been smoking a cigarette, his mind wondering about. He shifted, twirling the item between his fingers gently. He frowned, and turned his head to look at his surroundings.

It was quiet from the cease fire. No one dared to step out of place during one of these, leaving the mercs to all bicker with one another.

The soft sound of footsteps approaching Spy pulled him from his endless flurry of thoughts, making him turn to face who it was. He felt his lips curl up into a soft smile, and gave the man a wave.

He’d returned the action, moving over to where Spy stood.

“Heya darlin’.” his voice sweet, caring. There was something off, however the Spy chalked it up to his paranoia.

“Evening, laborer.” Spy replied back, soon after taking a drag from his cigarette.

“There's somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to show ya sweet pea.” the man started. “If you don’t mind.”

Spy’s eyes widened slightly in intrigue, his brows furrowing up slightly. He gave the man a soft, loving gaze, and chuckled.

“Of course, mon cher.”

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

Engineer walked out of his workshop, glumly staring off. He was lost in his mind, thinking about Spy. He had almost ran into Scout, who had been doing his usual walk around the base.

“Yo! Engie!” Scout started. “Watch where you’re goin’, don’t wanna get yourself hurt, old man.” he chuckled at his jab at the others’ ego.

He looked at the boy tiredly, his mouth curving further into a frown. He felt guilty for not telling him the news yet. He felt it wasn’t his place to say anything. He could never be a parental figure to him..

Scout continued to smile, not quite noticing Engineers disinterest.

“There was somethin’... oh yeah!” he said, looking over to the much less energetic man. “Medic told me to tell you he wants to see you, I dunno why.” he paused, trying to think of a proper insult. “He probably wants to perform some sort of viva-selection on you, be careful.”

he chuckled again, and soon, Scout was off.

Engie blinked, his tired mind not completely registering everything at first.

He groaned, pulling on his skin in annoyance. He didn’t want to see anyone at all, if not because of his insomnia induced state, then because of his recent loss.

He never quite felt the coldness leave him, the sensation following him-enveloping him, like a shroud. He shuddered slightly, his body frozen for a few moments.

The Engineer had let out an annoyed huff, forcing himself to walk forwards.

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

The doctor's office was cold, and sterile. It smelt of medical supplies, blood, and other things that the Engineer didn’t want to think about at that moment. The air hung heavy around him, stinging his lungs as he took a deep breath in.

The lights overhead hummed gently, the noise being mixed in with the occasional cooing noise made by Medics many birds. He couldn't help but look up at the birds, feeling as though all of them were staring directly at him.

Medic walked in, his expression jovial. His gaze landed on Engie, his eyes soon filling with worry. He took a few steps towards the man, before pausing.

“It's quite cold in here, isn’t it?” He let out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

Medic frowned, his joke not quite landing how he would have liked. He shrugged it off, and smiled softly again. He took a few more steps towards Engie, before pausing in front of him.

“Vell, how are you feeling miene fruend?”

The Engineer shifted where he stood, looking up at the taller man. He felt tears prick his eyes, and swallowed down his sadness.

“M’ doin’ fine, doc. Just a little tired.” He’d lied. His voice was a little shaky from trying to keep himself from breaking down, the doctor taking notice of it.

“You don’t seem fine.” Medic started. “I know zis must be hard for you.. I am here if you need to talk, you know..”

Engineer frowned, and looked down. He felt his knees becoming weaker-his body on the verge of collapsing, just like his mental state. He crossed his arms, holding back a sob.

Medic watched the other breakdown somberly. He knew he wasn’t the best with comforting people, but he wanted to try.

He placed a careful, steady hand on the shorter man's shoulder, frowning at his friend's current state.

“Oh, Engie..”

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

Spy hadn’t followed the Engineer towards the Medics office, rather, he had gotten distracted. He followed close behind the boy that had stopped to talk with the man. He looked so familiar, but no matter how hard he tried to remember anything about him, his mind drew blanks.

He followed the man out towards the main area of… wherever he was. He was a little overwhelmed by the familiar, blurry faces. He’d seen a few of them talking to one another, completely ignoring Spys existence.

Spy looked around, pausing in the middle of the area for a few seconds to take in his surroundings.

The place was fairly lit, and well decorated. In the left corner of the room was a pool table, the entire game set up for the next person to play. Next to it was a separate, large table with playing cards sitting atop its surface. There were also a few empty and full bottles of alcohol laying on the table, waiting to be thrown away.

In the right corner of the room, there was a small, comfortable looking chair.

It was so strange. Seeing a place that looked so vaguely familiar. It was almost liminal-minus that feeling of dread.

He slowly floated around the room, before he stopped a few feet away from the fast one. The man that had stopped to talk to..

What was his name again..

No matter, at least he knew what he looked like. His kind eyes, always hidden behind lifeless goggles..

He’d almost forgotten where he was, if it weren’t for the sound of someone yelling out,

“WOAH WOAH WOAH HEY-”

It was the fast kid. The.. 

He hated how he couldn’t remember his name. Something with a ‘J’.. he raised a careful finger to his chin, thinking hard.

Who could he be? He was so familiar.. He had a sense of.. Strange parental fear, almost. It made him feel uneasy, and irritated. He was obviously important.. Why couldn’t he remember?

Again, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud-the fast one had been thrown down, being choked by a man wearing a helmet. He couldn’t help but feel his heart drop a little as he watched what happened.

“YOU ARE A SORRY MAGGOT!” the one with the helmet screamed, still holding down the young man.

The other let out an angry grunt as he attempted to get out of the stronger man's hold. “A-and you’re just a sorry loser-!”

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

The view was.. Beautiful. The sun caressed the sandy floor and rocky mountains as it lowered its large form. The sky was an orangish pink, the clouds coming together to form white swirls to compliment it. Stars had begun to slowly fade into the sky as it darkened.

Spy felt a sense of comfort wash over him as he watched the sun slowly fade away, the stars becoming more and more prominent.

“Mon cher.. This is.. Wonderful..” he whispered out, in awe. “Thank you.. For bringing me here.”

The man stood from behind, his expression emotionless, though his words conveyed otherwise.

“No, thank you.” The man's southern drawl had started to slip, sounding less and less like the man Spy was accustomed to.

He felt his eyebrows crease, finding a sense of dread beginning to take hold of his mind-replacing the comfort he had once felt. This.. wasn’t like Engie. Not at all. It had all only started to click, his heart racing in his chest.

“-for being such a dear friend.” The southern accent was completely gone, replaced by a sly, french accent that rang inside of Spys mind.

He hadn’t had much time to react before he could see his own heart in front of him, beating gently as the world started to grow dark. Pain soon followed after-blossoming in the now empty cavity. One of his ribs was visibly sticking out-having been broken by the initial blow.

He could only make out a light gasp, completely taken aback.

He fell to the ground, the rod that had been harshly jabbed into him jolting further as he collided with the rocky floor. He felt his breathing stop, his eyes becoming foggy as life drained from him.

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

Sly and Unseen

Ok, this was very quickly written after I finished watching One Day because I had to do something with those feelings (and Leo Woodall is giving me all the Ted Tonks feels). Apologies for any grammatical errors, this is un-beta'd (and I fully expect @celestemagnoliathewriter to yell at me for not giving her any warning about this).

Read on AO3

Snippet:

He rakes his eyes over Andromeda’s face, taking in every curve and valley as if he didn’t already have them committed to memory. He wanted to remember every single detail of her in this moment. The way her eyelashes fanned over her cheeks, the curl of her hair, the peak of her lips. 

It feels as though a hand reaches into his chest and squeezes his heart. The same hand that had been squeezing since he’d made the decision to go.

It was what he needed to do, what would keep his family safe.

But he didn’t know how to face it.

[ghoultemple]

copia headcanons

sad edition - psa for mentions of anxiety, paranoia and delusiom

cardinal has always been in the shadows. from his days as a deacon until the day he was finally contacted by seestor to take the lead of the band — and the day he became papa; he has always lived in the shadows.

when growing up, he’d try to be like the brothers. everyone looked up to them. they were stunning, charming, had a great way with words, and just had that exquisite aura around them. as much as cardinal looked like them physically — as the white eye was the biggest proof he was somehow an emeritus — it was truly hard for him to find worth inside his heart and self.

during his childhood, copia struggled to make friends, but just because he had too many things to do as seestor insisted he had to take extra classes on things neither of the kids needed. he grew up alone in the library, reading, and learning. his best friend was the silence and the crack of wood burning in the fireplace on cold nights. he used to use his free time trying to make friends, but how can you be friends with people you never speak with?

during his adolescence, it was even harder. the awkwardness and yearning to be part of something consuming him. it was painful, truly. he just wanted consolation, a friend to mess up with, but in the end, he was the one being messed up. terzo felt bad, as he one day saw copia try to say something during the only class inside the ministry they shared, and everyone ignored him. the way he had no one to be with him.

secondo was already on his way, studying to become papa, he knew he was the one to come to be, he has always been nihil’s favorite. but terzo had the charm and way to talk with everyone and he was a true — as in “assumed nihil’s child” — emeritus. people would kneel if he requested. so he started to walk with copia sometimes, near enough people to pay attention to him more often. but it didn’t go the way he wanted.

they’d only start talking with copia for the pure interest of knowing more about terzo and secondo, and copia started to see himself as a bridge and not the final destination.

and as time passed by, things got worse.

copia found himself alone, with not a single person to share a deep connection with. the feeling of not being important consumes him, until the day he became nihil’s right hand.

he finally had a purpose. something that would finally add some value, that would finally fill the void inside his heart, and make him understand he is important and worthy to the world.

but nihil despised copia, who never understood why. but the mental disturbance was consuming him, the invalidation and disapproval on nihil’s part, whenever copia was around, was the equivalent of being stabbed three times in your lungs. it was heartbreaking. but he had to keep the position.

copia developed anxiety, and he started to overthink everything. not allowing himself to have fun, or to be himself around nihil. his only company was his rats, to who he created affection for after all the long nights in the library.

his anxiety got worse each day, but he was so good at hiding, no one noticed. but to be honest, no one cared. he was invisible in the ministry, he was not important; there’s no need to notice that.

then everything changed.

when his brothers died, copia had one more thing to add to his big pile of mental instability: delusions and paranoia.

he felt like he was next, he knows he’s going to die. a change in tone from one of his ghouls triggers him, and they need to reassure him they’re not mad. a small change of behavior will make copia lose sleep, but he won’t admit it. he won’t ask for help. because in his head, no one will ever listen.

he grew invisible, a vine on frigid cobblestone. unimportant. no one will see or care when it starts to develop flowers or thorns. no one will care when he dies from the poisonous perfume or the deadly cut on his fingers.

but regardless, copia remains sweet and caring. he will look up to everyone around him, but break everything mirror he ever comes across: he can’t dare look at the reflection of the responsible for all the failures in his past. he can’t dare to look at himself and feel how unimportant he is. he prefers the image of the people who love him, even if he doesn’t believe in them. he will prefer to see himself as some sort of comfort to others, because he was never a comfort for himself.

[mjrtaurus]

He does stay the night. Just one night. One last night under the roof he grew up under. One last night with his baby.

He couldn’t sleep, could barely keep himself from the bassinet and the little bundle sleeping inside it. There was a little bit of fussing at one point, and he was there to scoop the tiny baby up in his arms.

He knew this was only prolonging his pain, but Luffy didn’t deserve to have love withheld from him. He could take the pain, he would take the pain. His son needed all the love he could give in these last few hours together.

Garp had to wrangle Dragon to the table for breakfast. No way he was letting his son run off to seas knew where on an empty stomach, but all too soon the time came for him to move on.

Garp held Luffy as they said their goodbyes. They both knew that if Dragon held him just one more time, he wouldn’t be able to let go.

Petrichor and the scent of ozone were all the evidence that Dragon had even been there, aside from the child, of course. There was another storm rolling in already. An unnatural one, and it felt heavy. Sorrowful.

“He loves you, brat. Don’t you ever forget that…” Garp murmurs to the baby in his arms, just now beginning to stir.

“He loves you so much…”

Just thought of something that wrecked my heart, so I’ll share it here.

Dragon at Garp’s doorstep with Luffy swaddled in his arms. It’s storming, it’s dark, it’s cold, rain is soaking through his cloak, and the warmth of the lights through the windows is so warm. But he’s so, so scared…

He hasn’t talked to his father in years… what if his father had grown to hate him? What if he was unwelcome, now? What if he was little more than a stranger? Would his father call him a disappointment of a son? Would he shut the door in his face? Would he reject Luffy?

And then the door opens, as if Garp sensed his presence… Hell, with the tangle of emotions tearing him up inside he probably had…

He’s ready for rejection. He’s ready for hatred. He’s ready for his heart to be broken.

He’s not ready for his father to hug his neck.

Complete and utter shock felt too small to describe the feelings in Dragon's heart.

His father tugged him that much closer and if the Revolutionary Army leader didn’t know any better, he’d think he felt tears staining his shoulder.

Garp, with surprising difficulty, pulled himself off and quickly turned on his heel.

“Get inside already, all this cold air isn’t good for Junior.”

Dragon quickly followed and started doing that awkward shuffle foot thing you do when you trying to take off your shoes without sitting, Luffy still sleeping peacefully in his arms.

He kept opening and closing his mouth without purpose. He had no idea where to even begin. There was so much, too much to explain.

He clenched his fists in determination, he had to approach this delicately.

He refocused with a start, suddenly realizing he was not, in fact, holding his baby anymore. Hence the previous fist clenching not possible when holding a newborn.

He whipped his head around only to see his elderly father sitting in a rocking chair, rocking his grandson back to sleep with soft murmurs and touches.

“There ya are, little one. Grandpa Garp has you.”

“W-When did you..”

“You’re just like your mother, neither of you could turn off your brains.”

Dragon took a seat in the armchair adjacent to his father, their shadows cast on the wall by the crackling flames in the fireplace.

A surprisingly calm silence blanketed them only occasionally disturbed by a gurgle or whimper from the infant in the room.

Alright Dragon, time to plead your case! Garp’s a lot of things but he’s not unreasonable! Wow him with your powers of persuasion and logic that has helped dozens of people seek their freedom!

“So…the weather around here is kinda cold for this time of year.”

Smooth Dragon real smooth.

“Cut the crap Sonny, just tell me what’s going on already.”

“ThisismysonLuffycanyoupleaseraisehim.”

That barely counted as a sentence or a plea.

Garp cooly nodded “Alright then.”

Dragon sagged in relief, quickly making to empty his bag. Diapers and wet wipes, bottles and formula, a foldable changing station and a convertible bassinet, he had made sure to bring anything his baby would need.

“He sleeps through the night well enough but Luffy - his name is Luffy I forgot to say - gets really fussy in the mornings. He seemed to have gotten the family appetite so feed him plenty.”

He pulled out a colourful book, the title reads ‘The Curious Tail of Carl the Cockatoo’

“This is his favourite story at bedtime, you have to read it to him every night.”

Finally he pulls out a mobile, decorated with a Bananawanis in different stages of life.

..He had forgotten he packed it. He wordlessly placed it on his father's hand before standing up to set up the bassinet.

“When do you plan on visiting? Not sure what a day in the life of criminal is but I’ve got a schedule I mostly need to follow.”

“Never, I’m never coming back.”

He couldn’t, he wanted to more than anything, but he couldn’t.

“In quite a rush there, can’t wait to leave or something?”

Alright, bassinet is a go, next the changing table.

“Just don’t wanna attract any unsavoury attention, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Garp stood up now, gently placed his grandson in his bed.

“I never told ya you had to leave. Hell, with the storm out there you’ll definitely need to stay the night.”

For the umpteenth time since arriving, Dragon hesitated. He couldn’t look his father in the eye. Damnit why was this changing table not listening to him, the box said it was for parents on the go and he had to go!

“Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for harbouring a criminal. It’s just..easier this way.”

Garp grunted and begun waving at the arm, as if he could physically shoo away Dragon's concerns.

“Boy, you can try and lie all you want but it won’t work on me. It took me forever to wrench the kid outta yer hands, you clearly don’t wanna leave ‘im. Yer frantically trying to distance yourself from me but I’d bet berries I’m the first person you came to, and don’t think I can’t see when my boy's gotten his heart broken.”

Dragon looked up and saw wrinkled eyes reflecting nothing but the softest love back at him.

“You wanna take care of your kid? Well I wanna take care of mine.”

He didn’t really know who reached out this time. All he knew is that he was hugging back time.

“..When did you get so wise anyway?”

“Bwahaha, it came with the grey hair.”

[aesthetictarlos]

No one has ever called Tommy beautiful before. He's been called hot, sexy, attractive, that's for sure, especially by the guys who hit on him in clubs. Someone has even told him he was easy on the eyes or good-looking, and it's not like he didn't have mirrors at his place, but it was always nice hearing those words because he could use a boost of self-esteem here and there, especially in those bad days where he would look at himself in the mirror and saw that chubby young boy who got braces, too many unruly curls, and had to deal with bullies.

People call him cool and competent once they know what he does for a living and that's nice, too, but no one has ever called him beautiful. And it's not like he minds, he hasn't even thought about that until now.

Now that he's laying in bed with his boyfriend, after they made love for the first time (yeah, made love because what he and Evan just did is so, so different from the sex he was used to and he's also a romantic, sue him) and Evan is leaving the imprint of his fingers all over his face. First, Evan traces the outline of his eyebrows, then thumbs at the laugh lines around his eyes and grins softly before his index finger follows the slope of his nose, down to his cupid's bow, murmuring a soft "God, your lips are perfect." Tommy believes him, and sometimes he wishes he could see himself through Evan's adoring eyes. Evan's not done, yet, and his fingers graze every inch of his face, lingering on the cleft on his chin.

"Tommy, you're beautiful," Evan whispers, his impossibly blue eyes filled with so much fondness and affection that Tommy tears up. "So beautiful."

With those few words, Evan fixes something in him that he didn't even know was broken.

[lost-in-fandoms]

"Tell me again."

Max hums, moving his hand in slow circles along Daniel's back, feeling his chest move against his side, his face hidden in the folds of Max's t-shirt.

He bows his head, pressing a kiss against Daniel's hair, shifting against the hotel's pillows until he's comfortable again.

"It's going to be sunny," he says, voice low, letting Daniel's curls tickle his lips and nose. "It's going to be sunset, orange, the trees all golden in the way you like."

Daniel's back shifts under his hand, his fingers twisting in Max's shirt.

"We'll be sitting in chairs, because you have old man knees, and would complain about sitting on the floor."

He twists away from the halfhearted poke in his side, then settles back.

"They will be those garden ones, the ones with the straw?"

"Wicker," Daniel corrects him softly, voice scratchy.

"Yes, wicker." He tugs Daniel even closer, not knowing how it is even possible. "With pillows, so you can curl in them like a little cat."

He smooths his hand down Daniel's back, like he does with Sassy, when she stretches out beside him on the bed, similar to how Daniel is now. Does it again when he feels Daniel's shoulders uncurl slightly.

"We will be drinking your weird beers, the expensive ones that taste worse than all the others."

"Craft beer isn't weird," Daniel argues, just like Max was expecting him to. He sounds like there's something stuck in the back of his throat, and Max kisses his hair again.

"It is weird, Daniel. Beer does not need to be that expensive."

He gives him space to reply once more, but Daniel doesn't.

"We will drink your weird beer, and we will talk about that time we ate pasta in your hotel room."

It wasn't just one time, but Max knows he doesn't need to specify. They're both thinking about the same one, illegal spaghetti ordered from room service, hidden from their trainers, sauce on the corner of Max's mouth, cleaned by Daniel's thumb first, Daniel's mouth later. And even if they aren't thinking about the same, it doesn't matter. Every plate of pasta shared, in every hotel room, would matter just as much, stepping stones in their story, just as important as that first kiss.

"And it will be rainy," Max continues, voice even lower. His t-shirt is damp, stretched by Daniel's tense fingers. Daniel's back is shuddering, even when he holds him closer and closer and closer.

"It will rain, and you will have a blanket, because you always get cold, even more when it is humid."

The thing that was in Daniel's throat is in his too now.

"We will talk about how stupid everyone was. We will say it was all unfair. But we will not be angry anymore, because it will not matter anymore."

Daniel's hair smell like Max's shampoo, even if he usually doesn't use it, because he hates how dry it makes it feel. Max can taste salt on the back of his throat as he shifts his head slightly, trying to at least keep his ears dry, now that his cheeks are a lost cause.

Daniel's breathing is a stuttered rhythm against his ribs.

"We will cook eggs," Max pushes on, pressing every word against Daniel's skin, hoping every one feels like the i love you that it is. "Because we will have chickens on your farm, like a real farm, so we will be good at cooking eggs. And you will drink your wine, and sing your songs."

His voice breaks, sudden betrayal, just as Daniel trembles in a sob, but Max pushes through. They've both always known how to push through.

"And I will ask are you happy and you will say yes," he says, making it sound like a promise, because it is a promise. "And we will not regret any of it."

He knows they won't. Not the angry moments, not the painful moments, not the annoying little moments they will never even remember. They will take all of them and throw them into the jar of their lives, little pebbles, and colorful marbles, and shards of glass smoothed out with time and love and distance, all mixed together.

"We will sit on your chairs, and they will have nothing, and we will have us."

He holds Daniel closecloseclose, because he's never learned how to let go of the things he cares about, has always clung to things with his teeth and desire bared, and he has no intention of starting now. He has no intention of starting ever.

Even if this is not the way he wanted things to happen, he doesn't believe in letting go, especially when it comes to Daniel.

He swallows, clears his throat to try and dislodge the tight knot of feelings there, raises a hand to swipe his thumb along Daniel's wet jaw.

"We will have chickens, and a garage full of dirt bikes, and I will ask Grace to teach me how to make the pasta sauce you spilled all over the carpet when you were five."

Daniel nods against his chest, fingers relaxing. His breathing is still uneven, Max's t-shirt is still damp, but he can feel him going lax against him, relaxing bit by bit.

"We will," Daniel murmurs, voice shaky enough it sounds closer to a question.

"We will," Max tells him, firm. Would be happy to tell him again and again, until Daniel's voice doesn't shake on it anymore. "We will eat so much food, and we will become fat, and we will be happy. We will."

Daniel nods again, then shifts, wiggling in Max's hold until he can properly climb on top of him, pointy elbows planted on the bed, above Max's shoulders, trembling fingers tracing the wet lines on his cheeks, red-rimmed eyes soft.

When Daniel kisses him, they both taste like salt, exhaustion and the future.

[happybird16]

I just love seeing him content. He may have lost so much, gone through so much emotional and physical pain, but now he's at peace. I like the idea that, now that he no longer has to constantly fight for his life or workout to shut off his brain and avoid dark thoughts of death and loss and destruction, Levi gets to grow. He gets to learn how to sleep in, no longer shooting awake first thing in the morning for training. Instead he learns to sleep more, dozing and waking up at his own pace. He learns to relax. He's still strong, but his tummy gradually becomes soft. He finally gets to learn about who he is, without any obligations. No longer fighting to survive -in the underground then in the military. He just is. He gets to just be his own person, surrounded by new friends and family, forging his own path in life for the first time.

Edited to make him SMILE

He's so beautiful i'm gunna cry

[writing-for-whoever-listens]

Random Prompts 18

"I love you." "I know you do. I love you too. But we both know this isn't working."

"I can't stay." "I know." "I'll call you." "I know."

"I miss you, sometimes. When it's late and I'm by myself. I shouldn't have called, but you didn't pick up, so I guess it's fine."

"Did I do the right thing?" "I don't know." "I feel so lost without them, but it wasn't working, and..." "It's okay to cry, if you need to."

"It's been two years and you haven't dated anyone since?" "That's none of your fucking business."

"They're married." "What?" "They got married."

"I... Hey." "Hi."

"I hate them, I hate them so fucking much, I wish I never met them!" "You know you don't mean that." "I wish I did!"

"I'm sick of crying. I'm sick of missing them."

"I loved them, dad/mom. I loved them so much and it wasn't enough."

[alltoounwellll]

after azkaban sirius notices the new scars. some fresher than others. winding themselves around remus’ body like jagged wire.

“show me your scars” he says one morning. their legs tangled together beneath linen sheets.

“why?” remus asks, shying away.

“because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

[actuallyitsstar]

grief is not a feeling, but a neighborhood. this is where i come from. everyone i love still lives here. // (insp.)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

The sheer bravery Stede had to even go and sit with Ed's body absolutely blows me away.

Yes, there was nothing else he could do. There was no way he'd be able to leave Ed's body alone down there. That doesn't mean it wasn't still hard to do. The way he hesitates at the top of the stairs, looking down-

And Ed looks so small. Broken and hurt and tiny and very, very still. This is a man who, as we know and as Stede's brain is no doubt screaming at him, is very rarely still. Ed, at his baseline, is a cheerful, bouncy person. He fidgets and has trouble sitting still when he's not deeply engaged with something. And now all that playful, easily-excited energy, the curiosity, the life - it's just gone.

Because Ed is, as far as Stede knows, dead. He was hurting so, so deeply that he forced people who care about him to kill him. Stede would do anything for him, but he's too late. The entire world has changed, because Ed is no longer in it.

"You nut," Stede says, "why'd you have to go and get yourself killed?" Affectionate. Stede is in so much pain, you can see it on his face, but it's like he's expecting Ed to respond to the almost-teasing words. It's like he's hoping Ed will just sit right up. "Not all plans are gonna be winners, man," he can imagine Ed responding in the pause. "What did you think I was supposed to do?"

Of course, Ed stays still and quiet and, by all appearances, dead. Stede has to take several fortifying breaths before he can remove the shroud from his face, he actually has to fully look away a few times. And the noise he makes, horrified and somehow almost shocked - gets me right in the chest, every time. It's like he's surprised that, now he and Ed are together again, this could happen. They're with each other; they're supposed to be invincible.

In conclusion: give Rhys Darby an emmy please

[mochiwrites]

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

Scar never believed in it, not after dying twice, both times having been caught off guard. He didn't have time to reflect on the life he'd been leaving behind, not when everything happened so fast, not when to Scar it was like blinking before he was surrounded by total black.

But as he lay in the sand, letting the wind sweep over his weakening body, he starts to look back. He starts from the beginning, from setting Etho's tree on fire to pulling Grian into the desert on Pizza. He thinks of his second death to the ravine, how Grian's scream had been the thing to accompany him on his brief journey to blackness. He thinks of holding Grian in his arms as they celebrate a successful trap, or their hours spent digging a bunker.

Scar thinks of their ruined home, the place he'd always return to.

It's funny, how different this death feels to the other two times. Maybe that's because there's no coming back from this one. This is it. This is the end for Scar. His final breath.

He stares up at the big beautiful blue sky, and there is no longer any red to cloud his vision. If he had any energy left, he'd probably smile. All he can muster is the smallest twitch of his lips, blood drying on his chin.

A shadow fills his vision, and Scar has just a few seconds to see Grian's bruised face enter from the corner. He sees tears welling in those red eyes, one or two rolling down his cheeks as he picks up Scar's fading, cold body, pulling it tight to his chest.

Scar wishes he could reach out, he wishes he could press his palm into Grian's cheek and tell him not to cry. He much prefers it when Grian is laughing, when he's smiling. It suits him much better than this guilt ridden expression. Why are you crying? He wants to ask. You won! Scar is happy he won.

"I'm sorry Scar," Grian shakily whispers into his hair, his wings wrapping around the two of them like a shield. Scar isn't sure what he needs to shield them from, not anymore. The ghosts? Surely they aren't interested in this. In them. "I'm so sorry."

It's to Grian's warmth that Scar fades away, eyes fully shutting as he finds he's lost the energy, the will, to keep himself alive. Scar's purpose is complete, Grian is alive and well, and that's all that matters to him. He's okay with saying goodbye.

He joins the living dead, nothing more than a spirit.

He returns to the image of Grian hugging Scar close, yet as a ghost. His body is see through, he is no longer a corporeal being. Even as a ghost, he's returned right to where his heart and his soul rests, he's returned to his home, to his Grian. Scar doesn't question it. Of course he's ended up back here, back to the other half of his heart.

Grian had said once that everything in their story was dead.

Maybe it was just Scar being an optimist, but he liked to think that their story didn't have to end in death. Maybe it had just been Scar looking to a life after this, where there will be more laughter, more pranks and joy, more warmth shared. Scar liked to think that they were in control of their narrative, that not everything was dead, because they were alive.

But looking as Grian grieves over Scar, he wonders if Grian had always thought they were dead from the start.

As a ghost, Scar is forced to stand there as Grian rises on shaking legs. "Just one life left," he says, and Scar's nonexistent heart leaps to his throat.

"Grian, stop," he pleads, but his voice is nothing more than the breeze of the wind. He's helpless, unable to reach his partner as he takes slow, agonizing steps toward the edge Monopoly Mountain, right beside Pizza's grave. "Grian," Scar begs. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

Drops of blood fall from Grian's bloodied knuckles, staining the sand below. He walks toward the edge, and Scar follows, trying to reach out to him. Yet his hand phases right through Grian's back, never making contact.

Scar's heart breaks.

What else can the king of death do but watch his ever faithful knight follow him to where he should not?

[charmercharm3r]

it’s 12am, i have work at 9 but i literally cannot stop thinking about leeknow showering together fluff like it’s invading my thoughts rn

he’d be so sweet and gentle outside of bed (plenty of teasing as always) im just obsessed with the thought

-🌙 <3

i need a little sweetness on my page rn so here’s some food for thought :)

Masterlist

minho’s so gentle natured already, and also very touchy. showering together is a must! at least three times a week! it’s minho-law, strictly enforced or face the consequences (he’d only kiss ur forehead instead of ur lips for two days straight).

he likes to close the toilet lid and sit on it to watch while you undress so he can make you all flustered— we all know he has a staring problem, especially with his beloved. he won’t go out of his way to tease you during these softer times, but if the moment happens to present itself, he’s not gonna shy away. say you forget to grab another towel so you have to share one between the both of you. minho will use it on himself first while you stand there like a soggy lil puppy until he’s done, only then does he hand it to you and runs to get a fresh, clean one to wrap around your shoulders.

but if there isn’t one of those moments (rare), he likes to do everything for you. washing your hair, soaping your body, even helping you shave if you wanted. tbh it’s all an excuse to keep a hand on you at all times cus he’s touchy like that, and his love language is acts of service with a hint of physical skinship. i think he’d be the type to get in the shower with you even if he’d already taken one just to be near you, and encourages you to tell him about your day while you’re stuck in there with him. “you can’t leave, or else you’ll be dirty. so either you can be stinky in bed or you can let me listen to you talk. choose wisely.”

on days he especially misses you, he’ll even dry your hair and help you apply lotion. his favorite part is skin care, sitting you on the nearest high surface to be eye level or taller than him and he can apply all your products with such a delicate touch. for lip balm, he puts it on himself, then leans in to kiss you. “what’s yours is mine, what’s mine is yours. that includes lip balm.”

[bidisasterevankinard]

Whatever you do, do not imagine Maddie who cries in the hospital waiting room where Buck was brought to after fire truck bombing, thinking she's losing ANOTHER baby brother, but having no one who knows it. Do not imagine her calling their parents, barely talking, explaining how Buck was brought to surgery and in really bad shape and could lose his leg if he would even make it and hearing the answer "Maddie... You know we hate seeing our kids in the hospital". And she wants to scream that it's HER who raised Buck, but she just ends the call. Do not imagine her throwing her phone into the wall and falling near that wall crying till Chim finds her and hugs her to his chest. Do not imagine her again thinking about killing herself, if Buck dies she thinks I'll do it. Do not imagine her almost fainting in Chim's arms when doctor says that her baby brother made it and rushing to see him even tho he would be asleep for a while. Do not imagine her fussing over Buck too much, especially just after surgery because he's still with me to fuss over. Do not imagine her having it severs times worse years later bc her life just got back to normal. she has a kid and a boyfriend, with whom they bought a house. and her parents finally got around to be better parents, but her baby brother DIED FOR REAL this time. His heart stopped, he's in coma, she has to watch over him looking almost dead and now people know she lost her baby brother, she never raised like Buck, but she still feels like she can break down only in Chim's arms. And she does, every night, yet, every morning she wakes up and chooses to live for Jee, for Chim, for Buck and Daniel. even if she would lose her another baby brother she would LIVE, but please, Evan, please, I need you to stay for yourself and for me. Just stay with us, with me, Evan, please. I can't do it again