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orleans-jester · 4 months ago

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It wasn’t just Maddy’s sistership that she was risking, this was with Bastien too, the one who had put Pierre on Frank’s radar, the one who had known when he was planning something, the one who had killed him the first time, bashed him into bits. And there was Bastien’s relationship with the Reaper too - everyone and everything was connected, almost like a large family tree. And Piper was tending to it - it was up to her now whether it would be cut down or not.

Of course he was going to be there, though. Other than the crazy couple that own this house, who would ever choose Hell over living up here? Music, and dancing, and so many amazing foods, and being able to actually feel touch without it being torture. Pierre could be described as a LOT of things. Crazy … was lower on the list.

Pierre had a grin on his face as he escorted the prettiest girl in the ball to the dance floor, holding her hand up like he was a gentleman and she was a princess, and then wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close, taking in the smell of her perfume. Cheek to cheek. Dancing and swaying with one another.

And though he was dancing with Piper, giving her attention because oh, she was going to bring him back to life and he was very grateful for that, he still had a wandering eye. He saw Brigitte, and his smile grew a little wider. They might not have ended up on the best terms but she was still so - Brigitte, that he couldn’t help himself. So regal. A Queen. And Valerie - that was new, a quick glance over there.

And of course his boys, the Number boys. He had to shoot a confident wink over there because yes - he was that bitch. Then he let his eyes close and enjoy the dance, enjoy the closeness, enjoy all that was Piper. “I thought of you a lot down there,” He whispered into her ear. “Sometimes it was one of the only things that got me through.”

Not a lie. Not a sweet little nothing. He had thought of her. But only about half of it was good. The other half was self-pity because she had never come to visit him. He had a heart inside of that body. One that was hurting because of all the abandonment.

Fuck, even Chip had come to see him, and other than Bastien, there was probably no one else who hated him more than that guy.

There was a lot going on inside of the castle, and outside of it now, and attentions were torn every which way. But for some, there was peace in their little circles. Thomas and Valerie, of course, their perfect bubble. Black Arts and Nebby. Bastien and his daughter.

But there were a few people looking. Clopin had been searching out Piper so that he could show her off to Kuzco’s father figure. This was basically his goddamn grandchild. And yet - there she was, the arms of - Pierre.

“Ayy caramba,” He said with a heavy sigh, and shook his head. “Here we go again.”

And as much as he wished to go ahead and take his daughter’s arm and pull her away from the stupid boy, he did not, he turned his gaze back towards his husband and the band that TSG was making, the groove that was starting to overpower the room, and tried to enjoy himself. It was just one night - right?

One song, two song, three song - almost four and Pierre showed no signs of trying to stop the dancing, or moving away, until she was the one that had broken it off. Even during the more upbeat, he was keeping up with her, grabbing onto that thigh when it raised and feeling the warmth of real living skin beneath his dead hand.

“See you soon,” He agreed after the dance was complete, standing still for a moment and watching her go, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick his bottom lip, hand going through the infamous mane of his. He watched her manoeuvre, before taking a quick glance around - eyes settling for a second on his sister's back - before turning and going towards Seven.

He came up behind Seven and Zero and put his arms around their shoulders, hanging in between them. His shirt was feeling a bit loose, the buttons in the front becoming undone from his little tussle with Piper, which made him feel almost like a damn rockstar. And how couldn’t he feel that way? One of the hottest, most powerful chicks wanted HIM back on earth.

“You’re not going to believe this, gentlemen.”

Yes, Maddy had signed his death warrant. That wasn't lost on Piper either. She was still making this choice and hoping it wouldn't come back and bite her too hard in the butt. If it did she'd deal with the consequences when they came. There was enough devil in her not to care and enough faith in her to believe maybe things could actually work out. She knew damn well she could be risking relationships on this, but she understood things her own way. She had her reasons to make this choice.

She watched him rub his neck where she'd held him so tight. She felt no guilt. Still, when he nuzzled against her cheek there was an affection she couldn't deny she remembered. It wasn't just a memory. It was current feeling. She was taking note of this. She knew she never let go.

His answer? He'd be there.

The moment she heard it she knew it was on. Everything was about to change. This wasn't just about Pierre or even Seven. She was going to be changing time. They were. They were changing lives.

First, a dance. They were at a ball after all.

"Sure. I'd love to."

There was brightness to her face that came over her whole being as she was escorted to the floor. All the darkness from her grief was letting go. He said yes. That was the first step, whatever the outcome. The ideas of plans bearing fruit gave her a radiant glow and filled her with a light she hadn't worn in so long.

Maddy and Pierre were purposely avoiding looking at each other, but for Piper it felt like all eyes were on them when they stepped out to dance. Her papas would probably tell her it was because she was prettiest girl at the party, but she was fairly certain there was more to it. It had more to do with her partner and it had nothing to do with his appearance.

Seven and Zero were still staring, blinking actually, gossiping about how only Pierre can go from being strangled with a death stare like hers, to being kissed, to dancing with a girl like that. They were agreeing with themselves, like yup, only Pierre. Only fucking Pierre. Then they'd bow and start dancing together themselves. The unknown side conversation would also mean they actually saw the whole thing. That's why they were jaw dropped. They weren't seeing kissing the whole time like she claimed. Pierre was never in a time loop. Piper just told him so trying to keep his attention on her face so he wouldn't look out to seek help from others. All Seven and Zero knew was Pierre still had it even after the grave if he could calm the anger of a woman riled like that. They were not close enough to hear the conversation, but from what they saw, it was enough to make him a legend in their eyes.

This was a time people had utilized the floor like Thomas and Valerie or River and Elsa among them. Nutmeg and Willem were attempting to salvage a distracting night. It started off strong and kept going off in weird directions for him inside. Merry Men were all over the place taking their chances, many of which were Chip's wives, and if they couldn't get a girl to say yes, they'd be dancing with each other. Little John let no Merry Man go unpartnered.

Everyone would get a dance. Bastien whirled Frankie around off to the side, but stayed near his wife where the conversation was happening. Even Frankie and Bastien got a Little John hip swivel. Bastien only strayed off a little to the tune of the song to swing back her way again. Not to mention other random ghosts bopping around to the tunes. There was Black Arts and Nebby too casting out this Valerie/Thomas annoyingly happy all the time vibe whenever they were together.

So there was a lot of activity out there despite those who ran out of the castle. Which was also why most people would miss the oddity of a public moment far too busy with themselves to notice quiet body language of strangers-

-before everything went right back to normal.

As Piper and Pierre would start to dance she'd feel like every face that spun near or around them gave them a glance. Maybe not Thomas, he seemed to have tunnel vision all the time anyway. But, between all that and being pretty sure she heard her name drop from Seven and Zero's direction it definitely felt like the world was watching. This feeling wasn't an intimidating one though, not for Piper. She had too much Kuzco and Clopin in her for that.

When she felt the heat of the spotlight imagined or not she felt like she was on a grand stage. She wasn't a showman like her father. She hadn't lived life on stages, but the more she stood on podiums since their takeback she'd been gaining experience. Her groove sang in her heart, "Welcome to my show." She grabbed the side of her skirt to show a little more leg on that split dress as she hiked it against her dance partner and leaned into him harder before pulling back with flair.

Piper would dance with Pierre in a way that eventually blocked out the world. Her stage was his eyes. She'd waited all this time for this chance to see if he'd agree to this, to even get all the stars to align, sands to drop. She knew even if he'd have said no she'd have given her all to this dance because she needed her time with Pierre. He earned the hourglass on her hip. Kuzco had a forget me not tattoo and after all the people her father had lost over time she wasn't going to waste these moments because even now anything could happen. Minds could change. This was their time.

One song would turn into two, three. Time woud tick. She knew she had to get ready. She'd pull back.

"Thank you. I must prepare for you. Talk to Seven. Don't forget. No one from the other side. Just no one. I'll see you soon."

There were lots of dead people around tonight. The last thing she needed was an ambush of ghosts wanting life restored while working delicate magic with some highly elite friends. Emotions ran high when it came to life and death.

#PierrexPiper

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dragon-tamer-1 · 3 years ago

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Flighteningverse!Reaper

Height - 6'3"

- He's kinda okay with his job for the most part, though there are moments where he hates his job as Death. Such as when he has to reap children or those who died from terminal illness.(just a couple of examples)

- He has two pairs of wings, though he'll only show the second pair while reaping, as he stores the souls he reaps in them. They act as some sort of pocket dimension for them until he can return to his world to release them into the Afterlife(don't know if there's an official name for it in canon Reapertale, but I'm going to call it that here).

- His Death Touch ability has left him touch-starved, which he has accepted, though he does hug and hang with his brother whenever they both have the free time. Which they both do have, they are given at least one day off a week from their work by Reapertale!Asgore. This was something they had to convince him to grant them, but they did get that time to relax with each other and de-stress from their job.

- Reaper can turn into a raven to disguise himself if he were to roam in the worlds he visits without revealing who he is, as that's the only way he can touch anyone and anything without his Death Touch affecting anything. He can't speak in this form, though.

- He is still a coffee addict connoisseur. He prefers caramel coffee, but won't turn away other flavors and types of coffee.

Part 2 of the surprise! Reaper was fun to design! And he's the only one that has a pair of wings that aren't feathery. The second pair is smokey lavender, or at least that's what I was going for.

His feathered wings are based off of the black swan, but without the white feathers, though I had thought about adding those. But decided against. They look better like this.

Dream and Nightmare's Backstory

Dispirited!Dream's ref

Sanguine!Nightmare's ref

Tempest!Error and Spectrum!Ink's refs

Other Info

Lushia(Flighteningverse!Lust)'s ref

Flighteningverse!Cross's ref

Flighteningverse: How Wings Are Formed

Flighteningverse!Horror, Dust and Killer’s refs

Flighteningverse!Geno/Fracture!Geno's ref

Flighteningverse!Fresh/Radical!Fresh's ref

Reaper's scythe under the cut

#my art #flighteningverse reaper #flighteningverse #sparkly wings #they look like stars honestly #reaper's are probably one of the prettiest for me

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boa-h · 3 years ago

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【Shanks】 White Dress and Red Rose

You don’t know how long it has been like this. The world.

You sat on top of the ruins of buildings, crying silently to yourself as you awaited death. Your white dress is covered in dirt and blood, your hair is greasy and tangled. How long has it been since you last showered? You can’t remember.

Days passed slower than you could ever imagine, even the beautiful sun set became a torture.

You heard a rustle coming near you, then a dirty hand holding a red rose came into your view.

How odd, you didn’t know there were roses left.

You looked at the owner of the hand, it was a boy near your age. His hair was as red as the rose and his eyes shined brighter than the stars. He was the prettiest boy you’ve seen.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

You didn’t reply, you lost your voice a long time ago, from all the screaming and crying, and the lack of water.

“Ah, what am I saying, no one is alright at this point.” He sighed, “I couldn’t find anyone here anymore, you’re the only one.”

You nodded to indicate that you’re listening.

“I found this rose, it’s not very fresh anymore, but here, take it.” He placed it in your lap. “I think it can make you feel a bit better.”

You nodded again, and felt the sudden urge to cry. This is probably the first and last time someone will do this for you.

“My name is Shanks, I used to live near the shore.” He sat down beside you, “Everyone’s dead, you’re the first person I found who’s alive.”

The shore… You widen your eyes, that’s probably worth two days of walking, as you live in the city.

“It doesn’t matter now,” He chuckled, “We’re all dying tomorrow morning.”

You smiled and showed him your name that was sown on your dress by your mother.

“Is that your name? It’s pretty.” He grinned, “You’re pretty.”

You looked into his eyes, and you laughed silently.

“Let’s watch the sunrise tomorrow. It’ll be the prettiest.” He said, and you nodded.

Neither of you slept in the night, you listened to all the stories he told you, and they were amusing, you would have to say. It was probably the best night of your life, although you felt sad that you couldn’t talk to him and share your stories as well.

The night passed quicker than you’ve imagined, it was the shortest night ever since you had to survive on your own. The sun started to rise again, being the last dusk on earth. The days of crying and screaming came to an end, and you sat there silently waiting for the grim reapers.

Suddenly something warm touches your hand, you turn your head. It was Shanks, he was holding your hand. He flashed you a big grin, and you smiled back. And that was the last thing you could remember happening.

You woke up again, the only thing you’re seeing is white. You didn’t know where to go, but you didn’t want to go anywhere either. Maybe you were waiting for someone…

“Hello?” Someone called from behind, and you turned around. It was a boy with bright red hair, and he was holding a rose.

“Why are you here?” You asked.

“I think I’m waiting for someone, she wears a white dress. But I can’t remember who exactly.” He replied, “What about you?”

“I think I’m waiting for someone too.” You said, “I think he was supposed to hand me a rose.”

#one piece #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #shanks #op shanks #red hair shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #shanks imagine #shanks scenario #boa-h

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hellsite-yano · 4 years ago

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if this is too much trouble just ignore it but could you give me a quick rundown on what recent retro fps i should be playing/keeping track off. Thanks in advance porks

AMID EVIL - In the same vein of Heretic/Hexen in that it’s fantasy themed and doesn’t have your traditional retro fps arsenal. Really goes above and beyond with the visuals and is probably the prettiest game on this list. Excellent weapons and locations too. Getting an expansion soon called the Black Labyrinth. My favourite ‘throwback’ shooter atm.

DUSK - Probably the best one to start with because it’s so straightforward. Tons of strafehopping cultistpopping fun though. Really great atmosphere and music and excellent sound design that really sells the impact of the weapons. Just quality levels after quality levels with this one.

Ion Fury - Modern Duke Nukem 3D, uses the same engine too so it’s probably the most “authentic” boomer shooter out atm. Looks super crisp and polished considering the engine’s age. Game is LONG so don’t marathon it. Also getting an expansion soon at the time of writing.

Probably best to play at least one of the above first because these are very competent demonstrations of what the genre is capable of. Then you can get into the niche/early-access titles below:

Project Warlock - Bitesize levels designed like Wolfenstein 3D (in that the levels are grid based with verticality being rare). Really solid and has beautiful pixelart. Is on sale at 66% off at the moment which is a STEAL considering how much content you’re getting.

ULTRAKILL (Early Access) - Retro FPS meets CUHRAYZEE character action. Arenas are VERY fast-paced and split-second decision making is a must if you wanna get those P ranks. Blood is health, ammo is infinite, go nuts.

Prodeus (Early Access) - Modern classic-DOOM basically, right down to the enemy roster. You can tell this was made by people with a love and passion for this genre and it shows in almost every aspect. Was genuinely sad when I finished the early access content.

Viscerafest (Demo) - Solid gunplay but the focus on punching enemies to retrieve health makes this one stand out despite the comparatively simple aesthetic. Additionally, I am also hopelessly in love with the protaganist.

WRATH: Aeon of Ruin (Early Access) - 3DRealms’ new game on the quake engine. Game looks really good but the enemies’ AI and general performance needs work. Looks promising so far but I’ll admit this is the one I’m looking forward to the least.

HROT (Early Access) - Retro FPS set in Czechoslovakia. Nails the atmosphere and tone which is good because apart from that, it’s pretty standard so far. Still good fun though.

Nightmare Reaper (Early Access) - Interesting premise where you go to bed in a hospital every night and have to fight through procedurally generated maps with randomized equipment/weapons. By far the most economic buy out of all the EA titles as there is easily 15-20 hours of quality content here.

#Anonymous

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anthonyed · 4 years ago

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Hi! If you’re still doing prompts, can you do 49. “Who hurt you?” Or 53. “Who cares about what they think?” + stevebucky?

Anon, I wanted to do both, but I only managed one this time :/ Maybe the second one would be a fluffier Part 2 to this piece in the future. If that happens, I'd rb this with the link (From this list: “Who hurt you?”)

-//-

There’s a boy in his class he’d never seen before.

Stick-like with dishwater hair and a beak for a nose. He walks around like he’s got the entire world on his bony shoulders; head down, eyes on the floor and he makes sure he’s one with the wall all the time.

Bucky knows it’s not his business, but he knows what a fist to the face tastes like on the tongue, so he makes it his, anyway.

Two weeks into the term, he catches the boy out of the school gate and asks, “Are you new here?”

The boy startles and looks up and - My god! Bucky thinks.

He’s got the prettiest pair of blue for his eyes and if Bucky had been thirteen, crushing on a boy for the first time, he would have freaked out.

As it is, he’s 17 and been out for a year now. So he shakes the awe out of his fluttering lashes and puts on his best smile. “Hello, I’m Bucky Barnes,” he says. Hands held out for an offer to shake.

But the boy looks at him then his hand and he looks up again and he mutters, “Keep away from me.”

Bucky has faced rejection a billion times, he’s not a stranger to being shunned because of his sexual preference, but hell. This wasn’t even a come on. He was just introducing himself. And the response he got to that just pisses him off - beautiful boy or not.

“Shit dude, who hurt you,” he scowls. “Here I am offering friendship cause you look like you could use one and - you know what. Fuck you, man. You wanna be alone? Hell if I care.”

Should have stayed in his lane. Should not have made this boy his business. Should have known he was just like the rest of them jerks.

Except he looks like he’d sucked on a sour candy upon hearing Bucky’s words and he stutters out a soft sorry. “I thought you - you were gonna jump me.”

“Well, I wasn’t, all right,” Bucky sighs, raking his fingers through his hair and it’s kind of awkward.

But he walks home that day with the boy’s name fresh on his lips and his hand still warm from a shake.

Steve Rogers is turning 18 in three months against all odds. Ma seems to tear up more and more leading his birthday and he cannot blame her for that. She’s emotional, and if he wasn’t so hopeless himself, perhaps he’d feel the same.

Living with Cystic Fibrosis sent him to deathbed more than once. He’d greeted the reaper, kissed its hand but every time they thought this was it; he was pulled back to earth once again.

He doesn’t hate life, he just thinks he’s been fated to death since the day he was born.

So he keeps to himself; doesn’t make any connections he cannot afford to sever and kisses Sarah Rogers goodnight before bed like it’s their last goodbye.

But he’s turning 18 in three months and maybe that gives him some hope because he accidentally lets a boy in too deep into his heart.

When Bucky first finds out about Steve’s… condition, it’s been three weeks into their friendship, and they’re in a coffee shop sharing a bagel sandwich after their last class for the day.

He’d said something funny and Steve had broken into peals of laughter, grabbing his chest and wheezing from uncontainable joy and for a moment, it was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen.

And then it was the worst.

He saw Steve collapse right in front of him and ten other people; saw someone call for an ambulance, one of the staff yelled at Bucky about something but he couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t compute anything at all.

He froze where he stood; watching Steve die before him.

The paramedics arrived, someone pointed at him, one of the paramedics asked him if he was a friend; he said, yes.

She asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”

He stuttered, “No. I - He. He’s my friend. But I don’t know what just happened to him. Is he - Is he going to be okay?”

She’d looked at him, first disappointed then sad. She said, “Your friend’s going to be okay. If you want, you can ride along with us.”

She probably thought Bucky was a bad friend, but she never said that. She showed him the band around Steve’s wrist - which he’d never seen Steve took off, much less asked what it meant; just assumed it was important and left it at that - and told him what it means.

She flipped Steve’s wallet open, pulled out a card and gave it Bucky. “You’re lucky we know him,” she said.

“Stevie’s a good boy. But he’s very shy, and he’s always kept to himself so, it’s very nice to know he’s been going around making friends.”

Two hours later, he’s still sitting in the waiting room with his hands clasped in front of him, watching two ants carry a bread crumb across the tile between his feet.

Someone sits next to him; a nurse under her unzipped hoodie she’s got on and when he looks up, she smiles at him.

“I heard you’re Steve’s friend.”

Bucky’s been so tensed for a long time that he chokes on his spit when he opens his mouth. She waits patiently for his cough to subside. Once he can, Bucky rubs his hands over his pants and says, “Sorry. Yeah. I - I’m his friend.” Then he panics, “They said he’s all right and told me to wait here. Is he - Is everything -,”

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” She interrupts him, “Or drink maybe?”

He looks at her then; really looks at her, and he shakes his head. Something about her is too familiar so when she says, “Come,” he went with her.

She brings him to the canteen and buys him a sandwich and bottled water. “Eat,” she says. “If you’re gonna stick around, then you’ll need the energy.”

And that’s how Bucky met Sarah Rogers.

Steve is tired most of the time, but when he isn’t, he’s the brightest ball of sunshine.

His joy made Bucky bloom like Cherry Blossom in Spring. Every single smile and laughter; if Bucky could collect them all in a cup and drink, he would. But even then, he doesn’t think he’d get enough of it.

He loves him.

First as a friend, then as a boy who’d like to possess Steve; keep him to himself; all that smile and happiness, just for Bucky and only Bucky and he would never let anyone take his Stevie from him.

But then, something happens.

He gets invited to Steve’s little birthday party, and he claps as Steve blows out the candles. Hoots the loudest, laughs with Steve’s mom and then at one point, he’s sitting by her side pulling tissues for her to wipe her tears.

The room down the hallway got its door locked with Steve inside it.

“Sorry,” Mrs Rogers sniffles. It’s the fifth time she’d said it and Bucky has had enough.

“Seriously,” he tells her. “Stop worrying about it, Mrs Rogers.”

She laughs while a tear runs down her cheek at the same time. “Oh, God,” she sobs. “You shouldn’t be seeing this - Nobody, should be seeing this.”

Bucky keeps his mouth shut and hands over another ply.

Later that night, lying in his bed in the dark, Bucky thinks about what had happened. About Mrs Rogers kiss to Steve’s forehead, and her harmless words; “You’re growing into a handsome man, darling. Someday, somewhere, you’re gonna break someone’s heart.”

She wasn’t wrong. Hell, Bucky sat there thinking: he’s already breaking mine, Mrs Roger.

But that wasn’t what Steve thought. Whatever he did, it made him very angry. “Stop putting your hopes in me,” he snapped.

His poor ma, stunned, asked, “What?”

“Your hopes, ma,” Steve hissed. “You know none of that would happen. I won’t make it out of school -,”

And right then was when Bucky saw a mother break her own heart.

Her hand came in a flash, connecting sharp against Steve’s face; the loud slap echoed and the second she realised what she had done, Sarah Rogers cupped her mouth with that same hand - shaking -, her eyes wide in horror and her heart -

Hours later, Bucky could still hear it shatter into a million pieces. He realises too, they never did cut the cake tonight.

The next day, he doesn’t see Steve in school. He calls his phone, and calls Mrs Rogers when he doesn’t pick up. Her line goes dead too.

She texts later. Saying Steve’s in the hospital again.

Is he going to be okay? - Bucky writes her.

Ten minutes later, his phone flashes with; I don’t know.

He’s not okay.

They’ve got tubes stuffed down his windpipe, bags of fluids going into his veins and he’s looking bloated in the face.

The doctors keep hushing to Mrs Rogers. They tell her things Bucky doesn't understand; big words, complicated medical stuff and Bucky’s not so smart in the brain. He gets by with B in science at the very best. So he fills the chair by Stevie’s side and holds his hand instead.

When Bucky’s ma was around, she used to take him and his sister to Sunday church. She bought for them a bible each and knitted covers out of wool; one blue, one pink for Bucky and his sister, respectively.

After she passed, Bucky gave up faith and his belief. He’s stopped praying at all.

But right now, with the sound of Stevie’s heart echoing in beeps around them, he holds his hand and whispers what he remembers.

“He needs a new set of lungs,” Mrs Rogers says.

Seeing her in the hospital without her uniform on is very jarring. Bucky stares at her fingers curled around a paper cup holding coffee like they held all the answers.

They told themselves that the chairs in Steve’s room got too hard for their spine, so they’re in the canteen for better cushioning.

Truth is, they couldn’t take the silence in there anymore. So they’re out here drowning their sorrow in the most crowded place in the hospital.

“You know, I’m very glad that he met you.”

Bucky looks up from her hand and meets her watery smile. She sniffles, “He knew he didn’t have a long time. So he walked alone. Never made any friends. I have the suspicion that he hates saying goodbye.”

Bucky’s throat aches so he swallows it down. Sarah Rogers lays her hand over Bucky’s and squeezes.

“Thank you,” she tells him. “For choosing my son.”

He knows then that she sees right through him.

“I love him,” he tells her truthfully; his heart too swollen with Steve to hide no longer.

She gives him another watery smile and pats his hand two short times, “I know.”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat and says, “I never told him that.”

If; Bucky thinks.

If he could go back in time, he’d like to go back to the first day he met Steve and ask, “Would you go out on a date with me,” instead of offering friendship.

Or the first time he walked Steve out of the discharge suit so he could catch his frail hand, then his blue eyes and say, “Be my boyfriend Steve Rogers.”

Maybe a week before Steve’s birthday, when they were sitting in the park, with the late summer breeze caressing their skin and Steve had held his lips pressed the entire time.

They’d only known each other for two-and-a-half months then, but Bucky felt like he’d known Steve his entire lifetime. And he could tell that Steve was upset that evening.

He’d gotten off the phone with his mum that afternoon and back then Bucky didn’t know, but now, he could guess it was probably Mrs Rogers mentioning throwing him a birthday party.

If Bucky could go back to that evening, he wouldn’t just stop at making jokes for Steve to laugh at. He would take his hand in his and press his mouth to Steve’s cheek. He’d like to tell him, “You’re beautiful” and that, “You take my breath away, Stevie.”

He’d like to tell him in detail just how deeply he was in love with Steve. With the sound of birds chirping overhead and water lapping in the lake, he would like to have kissed the sorrow out of Steve’s lips.

But time travel is a fairy dream, and as it is for Bucky; he’s just another boy who’d missed his chance.

So he takes what he could get; he hoards minutes he could get with Stevie and treasures them dearly. Especially those without Sarah Rogers hovering by.

He tells him what he thinks; the weather, the new pair of shoes his nurse is wearing today, the little boy with a broken nose that reminded him of Steve and a helluva lot of ‘I wish’-es.

He tells him: “You taught me how to love selflessly.” Tells him: “I would have given anything to have you beside me, but now I just want you to stop hurting.”

#stucky #stevebucky #mine #thank you for requesting anon! i LOVED writing this #prompts

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fieldsofplay · 4 years ago

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Favorite Albums of 2020

25. Dehd – Flower of Devotion

Rather than look back on the shit year that was 2020, lets keep our eye on the hope of the horizon. Speaking of which, Dehd herald much of what’s to come on this here list. While as previously mentioned a shit year for most everything besides presidential politics, 2020 proved to be a great year for good old fashioned guitar music. Could I be accused of curling up with my version of musical comfort food? Perhaps. But starting off with Dehd, we have a type of band that used to be everywhere and now seems to be almost nowhere. Jangly lo-fi guitars, perky drums, and straightforward unadorned singing. About five years ago you couldn’t throw a rock in Brooklyn without hitting a band like this, but now that that fad is long gone. I’m glad that Chicago’s Dehd are still carrying the torch.

24. Perfume Genius – Set My Heart on Fire Immediately

I’ve always liked Perfume Genius, but for whatever reason Set My Heart on Fire Immediately is the album that took him out of the realm of casual background musical encounter to something I sought out. Chamber pop has never really been my thing (except for those couple summers where Grizzly Bear was totally my jam), but here the torch songs catch fire by the compressed force of Michael Hadreas’ longing. This record also pulls off the impressive feat of each song gradually morphing just a bit from what proceeds it, so that the whole record sounds similar and yet each song carves out its own little generic niche, the whole thing united by the quivering power of that pleading voice.

23. 2nd Grade – Hit to Hit

If you ever found yourself wondering what Guided by Voices would sound like if they wanted to be Big Star instead of punk rock Kinks, we now have the answer, and it’s Phily’s 2nd Grade. In the noble tradition of Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, Hit to Hit’s 24 tracks breeze by in a mere 41 minutes and 8 seconds. An earworm sunny melody, a quick guitar hook, a second verse (maybe), and poof, each song is gone before you could ever miss it. You would think variation would be difficult working within such tight musical corners, but while each song clearly shares common DNA, there is actually a lot of variance here, from weepy country ditties (“Bye Bye Texas”) to overdriven stompers (“Baby’s First Word”) though they all tend to orbit the same (big) star.

22. Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

I’ll be the first to admit that The Slow Rush isn’t my favorite Tame Impala record, not by a long shot. Having said that, this album still feels like it got short shrift this year (not that anyone can really complain about that in these here times). If we never knew that Lonerism or Innerspeaker or Currents existed, I wonder how much people would be head over heels for this album. “One More Year” “Is It True” and “Posthumous Forgiveness” are all top notch Impala jams. Seems like this album is the soundtrack for the chilled out summer hangs that we never got to have, and thus it’s fitting that it seems condemned for the ash-heap of history rather than the late-night come downs we never got up to.

21. Against All Logic – 2017 – 2019

Ah, speaking of complicated musical relationships, I can never seem to chart a clear course with Nicolas Jaar. The music he puts out under his own name never seems to do much for me, but I dug his collaboration with Dave Harrington as Darkside, and I really love most everything he’s put out as Against All Logic. While admittedly not a great year for house music—normally a liberating genre of communal interconnectivity, now a cruel reminder that we all live in Footloose—a banger remains a banger, and 2017-2019 is full to the brim with them. While I honestly can’t remember the last time I went dancing, I’ll still crank up “Fantasy” and bop around my living room, literally dancing by myself (lets be honest, something I would have done pandemic or no).

20. Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Fetch the Bolt Cutters has had a lot of great things said about it this year, so I don’t really have to add that much. What I will say is this is perhaps the most interesting percussion I’ve ever heard on a record. There is percussion all over the place, but almost none of it in the form of full-kit drumming. Fiona always used the left hand on the piano as the rhythmic center of her songs, but here there is drilling, tapping, rapping, patting. The phrase DIY gets tossed around all the time (and almost never applied to big money, big label Fiona) but to me the most impressive thing about this record is how it always sounds like she is sitting at a rickety upright piano in the corner of a living room, while everyone congregating around keeps the beat by tapping on pots and pans, the walls, whatever is at hand. I’ve truly never heard anything like it.

19. Advertisement – American Advertisement

Godbless Seattle’s Advertisement. So long as there is cheap beer, old shitty cars driving with the windows down, and the U-SofA, there’ll be bands like Advertisement. Straight out of the vein of Cheap Trick and the more recent White Reaper, Advertisement play power pop with the emphasis on the power. Sometimes this type of music gets called sleazy, but honestly I don’t get it. I think its probably because you can imagine it playing while Wooderson drives around Austin looking for redheads. While we rightfully cancelled the song of summer this year, “Upstream Boogie” would have gotten my vote, perfect for backyard bbqs and cannonballing into creeks.

18. Nation of Language – Introduction, Presence

I didn’t set it up this way, but if Advertisement has a diametric opposite, its probably Nation of Language. Where Advertisement is all frayed edges and foam, Nation of Language is as buttoned up as those terrible sports jackets people wore in the early ‘90s. While its not as good as my beloved Black Marble, those bands share enough DNA to make me a big fan of this synth pop gem. It’s not as dark as the cold-wave Black Marble, but it does share that bands fondness for stark baselines and crisp arpeggios. If you’ve ever envisioned your life as a scene from a John Hughes movie, Nation of Language could easily be playing in the background.

17. The Soft Pink Truth – Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?

Indulge me in a moment of naval gazing. Every year as I put these things together I reach a point where I’m lack “damn, this album is this low on the list?” And the point at which that thought enters my head is usually indicative of how good a year for music it was. Now 2020 wasn’t a good year for anything, and I probably spent the least time of any year listening to music, new, old, whatever. For the most part I just listened to the Grateful Dead and ambient albums. However, for my idiosyncratic tastes, 2020 was actually a pretty fucking incredible year for new music, as evinced by the fact that this album is all the way down at 17.

Earlier on in 2020 as I was bombarding my poor local music text thread with yet more of my inane musings, I think I declared this a top 3 album of the year. And I wasn’t lying! “Pretty” is often a dirty word in aesthetic appreciation, but this is certainly the “prettiest” album of the year in the best sense of the word. From the Drew Daniel half of Matmos comes Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase? A record that is somehow simultaneously deep house and feather light, so much so that it needs its own dumb internet music writing moniker—shallow house? wide house? vacation house? (actually kinda like that last one). With vocals from Jana Hunter, Angel Deradoorian, and Colin Self (with whom I wasn’t previously familiar) this thing will simultaneously make you want to tap your foot and drift off into the clouds. This is album is like the prayer Madonna sang about all those years ago.

16. Kurt Vile – Speed, Sound, Lonely KV

It’s not at all surprising that if Kurt Vile decided he wanted to go country western he’d be really fucking good at it. First of all, he’s an exceptional acoustic guitar picker. Secondly, his voice, while always befitting his hazed out urban rockers, has just enough twang to it that in retrospect it always sounded a little bit country. This record also gives me room to offer up an homage to the late great John Prine, for whom the EP is essentially a tribute. Vile covers two Prine songs, dueting with the man himself on “How Lucky.” Saying goodbye is never easy, but on Speed, Sound, Lonely (both the album, and the song more or less by that name) Vile manages a fitting tribute to a lost legend.

15. Lomelda – Hannah

The reviews of Hannah really did Lomelda a disservice. Sure, they were glowing, but they made it sound like this was some weepy milquetoast singer songwriter affair, when it’s actually a knotty album full off elliptical piano and fuzzed out electric guitar. Its 14 tracks hurtle by, largely due to the fact that almost all of them are under 3 and a ½ minutes. Things really get going with the second track, “Hannah Sun” with is squiggly synth effects and driving acoustic strums carrying on Hannah Read’s musings. It’s an album of relentless forward musical movement even if the vibe feels like it’s always looking back over its shoulder. Basically this album is what emo would sound like if it wasn’t made by the worst people in the universe.

14. Shabaka and the Ancestors – We are Sent here by History

Jazz! Another great year for jazz (Asher Gamedze’s Dialectic Soul and Keefe Jackson, Jim Baker, & Julian Kirshner’s So Glossy and So Thin are with a strong group that just missed the cut). In the midst of an excellent jazz renaissance (you gotta use super annoying words like “renaissance” when talking about jazz) Shebaka Hutchins remains my absolute fave of the bunch, and We are Sent here by History is probably my favorite thing he has put out so far.

13. Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

While I really liked Waxahatchee’s low-fi emoish debut—American Weekend—I’ll readily admit I wasn’t much about the popier albums that followed, frequently jesting, honestly, that Allison was my preferred musical Crutchfield sister. All that changed for me with Saint Cloud. I’ve certainly drifted far off into country and Americana as I’ve aged, and it appears the same came be said for Katie Crutchfield. These songs have a giddyup to them but they never break out into a gallop, allowing the strength of the melodies to carry them along across the plains, with just the right hint of twilight. Saint Cloud is the sound of Patsy Cline if she played to roadside inns rather than the Grand Ol’ Opry.

12. Neil Young – Homegrown

This was the hardest album to place on the list this year. For starters, should it even count? Clearly I say yes. While some of these songs have been available for over 30 years, as an album, Homegrown was a “new” release here in 2020, even though it was originally slated to come out in ’75 between On the Beach (my personal fave Neil record) and Zuma. As a pure piece of music, is it better than most, if not all, of the records that follow? Of course yes. But what does a new Neil Young record mean in 2020? As a thought experiment its fascinating. Do we value this album within the musical context of 2020 or 1975? Fortunately, it’s an even more enjoyable listen than it is a thought experiment. From the first strums of “Separate Ways” you’re like “oh shit, this is the vintage stuff.” Gentle amber acoustic numbers (“Try”) share space with electric stompers (“Vacancy”). The best thing you can say about Homegrown is that if Neil had originally decided to release this instead of Tonight’s The Night, it would have fit right in amongst his unimpeachable run from Everybody Knows This is Nowhere up through Zuma. A classic is still a classic, no matter what year it finally sees the light of day.

11. Destroyer – Have we Met

Ah Dan Bejar, boy was I wrong about you. I kinda got into Destroyer’s Rubies, I loved his contributions to Swan Lake and The New Pornographers, but yet when Chinatown started really making waves, I just couldn’t do it. It was soft rock! I hate soft rock! I hate everything about it! This preconceived notion wasn’t helped by the fact that I saw him open for the War on Drugs in Pontiac once and he was so drunk he could barely stand up and had to read his own lyrics from a sheet. And yet, for some reason I never really gave up on it. I can’t tell you why exactly, but two summers ago Chinatown just slowly became my go-to for early morning / late afternoon strolls. I found comfort in giving myself over to its pillowy soft embrace / cheating on my own aesthetic judgments. Now that I’m card-carrying Bejarhead, I greeted Have we Met with open arms, and I was not disappointed. The synths glimmer, the guitars add just enough punch, and his lyrics remain sharp as ever. Its fitting that this was the last concert I saw before the iron curtain fell. The one thing I had always turned my back on ended up being the last memory of dionysian group enthrallment I had to carry with me out into the desert of social isolation. Come back soon Destroyer, come back soon, everyone.

10. Deeper – Auto-Pain

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready, because post punk is back! I always say my favorite genre is ‘sad songs you can dance to’ but post punk is a close second. When I was in college post punk underwent a bit of a renaissance in the form of Interpol (back when they were still good), Bloc Party (ditto), Franz Ferdinand, and a whole slew of British one hit wonders (Maximo Park, Futureheads, Art Brut, the Bravery). Fortunately, as is always the case, what’s old is new again, and stark melodic bass lines, angular guitars, and moody introspective speak-singing are back in full force. Of the three post punk bands gracing this here top ten (Deeper, Fontaines DC, and Crack Cloud) each has its own little slice of the generic pie. Fontaines have the deep gloom of Interpol/Joy Division, Crack Cloud ripple with the staccato energy of Gang of Four, and Deeper have the wiry dancieness of, well, Wire. So long as leather jackets and black and white photography remain cool, there’ll always be bands like this, and thank god for that. In a true sign o’ the times, I learned about this band from some random girl’s Tik Tok in my for-you feed. She repped five bands, two of which are in my top three, so I was like, sure I’ll give this band Deeper a go. God bless the internet. Finally, Deeper get bonus points for naming a song “This Heat,” who I’ve been spending a lot of time revisiting this year, and whose spikey guitars are all over this record.

9. The Flaming Lips – American Head

There are few things as satisfying in art as being genuinely surprised by a beloved artist you had given up as culturally dead. Since putting out their last masterpiece (2009’s Embryonic) the Lips have put out a string of good, if inconsequential, albums that befitting the ethos of the band could best be described as half baked (The Terror, Oczy Moldy, and a series of collaborative experiments). Basically, they had reached that dreaded nadir where I was no longer interested in listening to their new output (cough The National, cough cough Arcade Fire). So what made me give American Head a chance? That reader, is the point of art criticism! I can’t remember how the blurb on pitchfork read exactly, but I knew it referenced Tom Petty and a return to a preoccupation with more Earthly concerns—namely ‘70s heartland rock. Well, this sounded intriguing, and boy was I not disappointed. Sure, the Flaming Lips have already reached their sell-by date twice over (first in 1992, immediately followed by their MTV reinvention on 1993’s Transmissions from the Satellite Heart; and then again in the late ‘90s with the departure of guitarist Ronald Jones, followed by their creative pinnacle, ‘99’s symphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin), so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that this band could rise from the dead a third time. Only, for the most part, they didn’t. I guess I’m not surprised that American Head failed to reach a broader audience. Most people probably aren’t even aware that they are still a going concern, and after the failures of the last decade it makes sense that most weren’t interested in more tunes from the Oklahoma freaknicks. But for those willing to give the band another chance, American Head easily delivers their best album since Embryonic, if not all the way back to Yoshimi. Mixing ‘70s Americana with the star gazing of Soft Bulletin’s “Sleeping on the Roof,” the Lips deliver their best album in decades by foregoing the parlor tricks and returning to what they do best, taking trips to distant galaxies while keeping their feet firmly planted in the soil and songcraft of Oklahoma.

8. Cut Worms – Nobody Lives Here Anymore

This one is pretty easy. Do you like George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass? If yes, listen to Nobody Lives Here Anymore and revel in this double album’s upbeat acoustic rock mediations. If no, well there’s plenty of other good stuff out there. Not quite as metaphysical or orchestral as All Things Must Pass, Nobody Lives Here Anymore still manages to hit that rockabiliy-pop sweet spot that Harrison used to mine. I’m not quite sure what the definition of “troubadour” is, but it feels safe to call Cut Worms a troubadour, which is certainly better than his terrible stage name.

7. Cigarettes for Breakfast – Aphantasia

Similar to Cut Worms, Cigarettes for Breakfast also involves a simple influence equation. Do you pray at the altar of Loveless? If so, Aphantasia is just the record for you. Sure, it’s a bit of My Bloody Valentine paint by numbers (“Breathe” even features the same squally guitar noise [it’s really hard to try and describe My Bloody Valentine effects ha] as “Soft as Snow (But Warm Inside)”) but when you’re as into shoegaze as I am, that’s never really a bad thing. Plus, I’m being a bit unfair. Everyone with textured tremolo heavy wall-of-sound guitars and cooed vocals is going to inevitably be compared to MBV, and Cigarettes for Breakfast do enough to chart their own course. Perhaps most interesting is the musical journey this record charts. Its loudest moment is its opening, where pummeling guitars more reminiscent of Sonic Youth with a touch of Dinosaur Jr. rip across hardcore style drumming. From there each song becomes a little more ambient, until closer “If Someone Could Help Me, Please” more or less floats away on its shimmering sheets of beautiful noise clouds. In this sense, it bears a resemblance in structure, if not in sound, to Deerhunter’s Cryptograms, another album I spent a lot of time revisiting this year. A shutout here is owed to the fine folks at Radio K, who had me diving for my shazam as this thing ripped across their airwaves. So long as there is college radio, there’ll be a new crop of kids discovering via Kevin Shields that the electric guitar contains endless sonic possibilities.

6. Fontaines D.C. – A Hero’s Death

The second entry in our top-ten post punk trio is A Hero’s Death by Fontaines D.C. I’ll admit, on first blush it’s kind of a dumb band name (I just assumed they were some hardcore band from Washington DC chasing those Dischord Records glory days), but when you learn that the “DC” stands for Dublin City, it all clicks, as this band is sorta inescapably Irish in the way that James Joyce is. Now this fact at first was also off-putting—if I went the rest of my life without ever hearing the Dropkick Murphy’s again I’d be quite content—but eventually it becomes integral to their sound, and not just because of the brogue in Garin Chatten’s vocals. “Love is the Main Thing” is an incredible song in many ways, most notably because of the hypnotic quality of the drumming with its counterpoint between riding cymbal and staccato toms, but perhaps in the main (*wink*) for the way it manages to connote the weariness of a grey urban environment without ever being explicitly about it. Just as Turn on the Bright Lights managed to perfectly capture New York in 2001, A Hero’s Death to me is the aural equivalent of a dense urban center like Dublin, especially after nightfall.

5. Imaginary Softwoods – Annual Flowers in Color

It should come as no surprise that I listened to A LOT of ambient this year, and to me there was no better electronic record to chill the fuck out to during this insane year than Annual Flowers in Color. I absolutely loved Emeralds’ Does it Look Like I’m Here? and was devastated they never followed that gem (*wink*) up. In the immediate aftermath of the demise of Emeralds Mark McGuire’s solo albums got a lot of attention, but apparently the person I really loved in Emeralds was Imaginary Softwoods’ John Elliot. Annual Flowers in Color is like if Dead City’s, Red Seas, Lost Ghosts were waiting in the departure’s lounge of Eno’s airport. At the heart of the album lies the 10 plus minutes of “Another First/Sea Machine.” I could listen to this song forever, and on some particularly WTF 2020 lakewalks I more or less have. Chunky synths, arpeggios that drift off to infinity, ‘80s soundtrack nostalgia. I could live in these Softwoods for the rest of my sonic days.

4. Pottery – Welcome to Bobby’s Motel

In another moment of nostalgia for my college years, Pottery are a welcome return to weird ass experimental Canadian bands. They don’t sound anything like the Unicorns, but in spirit Pottery kind of remind me of them. I’ve spilled a lot of digital ink here and elsewhere bemoaning the fact that Pitchfork (or perhaps, me) isn’t cool anymore, and to me no band embodies this more than Pottery. They take a bunch of fun disparate elements—Talking Heads dance art rock, periodic weird pitch shifted vocal effects, hazy deep purple style guitars, and Queen style machismo disco—throw them into a witch’s cauldron, and come up with something off the wall that sounds like nothing else but is also instantly familiar. This is the type of thing Pitchfork would have been all over in 2007, but instead now they’re too busy chasing conde nast clout clicks. Oh well, nothing gold can last. But enough negativity, this here is a celebration of the joy of new music, and no new band embodies that unbridled joy like Pottery. Along with Fontaines DC, this is the band I wish I most could have bopped around to with a bunch of sweaty strangers in the 7th St. Entry or Turf Club. You can just imagine the call and response vocals and funky grooves getting the people moving. Oh well, hopefully we’ll soon all be rocking the vaccine, they can breeze through town, and I’ll be the first person on the dance floor embarrassingly pumping my fist a half beat behind the rhythm.

3. Pure X – Pure X

To paraphrase Same Elliott in the Big Lebowski, sometimes there’s a band, and well, sometimes there’s a band. For me this year, that band was Pure X. I absolutely loved their debut Pleasure way back in 2011, when lo-fi reverb heavy slow guitar music (ie, Galaxie 500) was all the rage. Their follow up Crawling up the Stairs was so bad I didn’t even bother listening to Angel, though perhaps that also owed a decent amount to just how terrible the art on that record is. (I’ve since remedied this mistake; turns out that record rules). Being that as it may, I can’t particularly tell you what drew me in to this year’s self-titled album, a full nine years after Pleasure first graced the stage. In one sense it’s probably because Pleasure is one those albums that just never went out of my rotation. Whenever the fahrenheit tips past 90 and the walk to the bodega is a few blocks longer than you’d like, that record always hits the spot. Maybe I just knew this was the record I needed this year. Either way, from the first bars of “Middle America” I was hooked. The guitars crash over you, but never in a threatening way. Rather, they envelop you like a weighted blanket, comforting you in their sonic embrace. Nowhere is this more true than on “Fantasy,” easily my favorite song of 2020 (especially since this was a year entirely devoid of dance floor bangers). If this album came out in 1999 rather than 2020 I would have hit the repeat button on my discman and listened to this song forever.

2. Crack Cloud – Pain Olympics

Pain Olympics is the answer to the question that no one asked: what if Arcade Fire’s (back when they were good) communal uplift was paired with Gang of Four’s stark anthem’s of industrialism’s collapse? While on first blush this might sound like your standard album of punkish fist pumping angst, from when the female vocals (sorry there are too many people in this band for me to be able to figure out whose who) come in on opener “Post Truth (Birth of a Nation)” Pain Olympics reveals itself to be a very strange animal (likely a unicorn of some sort), especially as little orchestral swirls creep into the mix, giving it an almost Judy Garland (in hell) quality. This subtle genre pastiche is given its best effect on stunner “The Next Fix.” That song starts out as an elastic spoken-word call and response addiction rumination, at the minute mark it starts to segue into a vocoded chill raver, then some horns crop up out of nowhere, then a spoken word passage, then at the two minute mark a chorus of voices come in, doing their best Broken Social Scene in the truest sense of the phrase. This is perhaps one of the strangest records I’ve ever heard, but what is strangest of all is just how beautiful it is. Crack Cloud are not for everyone, but if you really give it a chance, the returns are limitless.

1. SAULT – Untitled (Rise) / Untitled (Black Is)

You cannot tell the story of 2020 without SAULT, which is why this pair of records is here at the top, even if under the influence of sodium pentothal (lets be honest, veritaserum) I might lean more towards Pain Olympics. In June, the “anonymous” London project put out Untitled (Black Is), and then quickly followed that gem up with September’s Untitled (Rise). Perhaps more amazing still is that these two albums, released so close together, have unique personalities. Black Is is more pop/R&B whereas Rise has a dancy, electr(on)ic feel. I lean more towards the latter, but honestly, both albums are so overstuffed with amazing moments that it’s borderline unbelievable that one outfit could put out so much amazing music in such a short span. While these records would chart high even if sung in Hopelandic, there’s no escaping the social import of the lyrics. One need look no further than Black Is’s “Don’t Shoot Guns Down” for the 2020 dance party at the end of the world. As if that weren’t more than enough, it finds its analogue on Rise’s “Street Fighter,” and that’s SAULT in a nutshell: two albums in constant communication with one another, and more importantly, with the state of the world. Guns down. Don’t Shoot. Let’s dance.

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sharpen-jadescythe · 4 years ago

Text

Turkey Day at the Jadescythes, 4

In which Sharpen, even in absentia, acts very much like a buttered-up goofball turkey during the holiday.

Part four: The Jadescythe family reacts!

When Wisthera finished reading Sharpen’s private love letter to Jiroki, his other three sisters were in tears. Jezzca Jadescythe, the very youngest of the family, cried quietly while looking down at her food. When Jezzca realized the letter was finished, she swiped at her eyes and tried to compose herself.

“Don’t you go, too!”

Jezzca snapped up, blinked at their mother who was pointing right at their youngest.

“You’re not fully trained, Jezzca. You’d do more harm than good.”

“Mom, I know that. I already considered all that!”

Then, quiet. Hiyuna and Liziqi* were crumbling before their eyes. Liziqi got up, just as their father nodded that they could be excused.

Momma Feline Jadescythe kept peace at the table again, her silvery-green hair falling over one shoulder as she gestured emphatically for Hiyuna to go and comfort her sister. “Then bring her right back to the table.”

Jezzca frowned, “Mom!”

“Your brother is a soldier. This is a family made to support fighters, just like yourself. Your father and I accepted it when Sharpen went over to Kul Tiras as well. It was a difficult decision, true. And if—”

The first thing Sharpen’s father had said all evening since Wisthera told them the news, “When. It’s ‘when’ Sharpen comes back, from now on in this house.”

Sharpen’s mother nodded her agreement. “Of course. When he returns… I will have to give him a pop on the head for writing this lover of his a farewell note and not his own mother.”

Wisthera glanced at Alessandre, for him to speak up on the subject. “Jiroki Glaivefall is held in high esteem by all who know her. Even the people who fall out with her spend a lot of time wishing they could fall back in—”

Wisthera muttered, “Not helping, Al…”

“Like myself. I work for her, through her mercenary group, The Greyshields. She’s our Shieldmother. A former Sentinel, trained as a Warden too, I believe. She’s a wonderful…” Al paused, wondering if he should mention the rest. “A wonderful person. I feel guilty leaving her to do all the fighting, actually.”

Wisthera arched an eyebrow, “If you want to keep what’s left of your marriage to Opal? Al, you keep your butt on Azeroth.”

Grumbling, “…I know that.”

Sharpen’s father Mr. Faol Jadescythe took his napkin and spread it on his lap. He started to serve his wife some mashed potatoes, then handed the dish over to Jezzca, their only other child still at the table. He hummed in thought, then said, “But, Wizzy, your brother also knows that he is a soldier and some conflicts are great enough that people should forgive us if we’ve got to go. And Al, from what I remember that last time we spoke… was it a few years ago? At Wisthera’s anniversary party?”

Wisthera’s husband Onyx and their son Reaper were there as well, quiet till now. “Yes, that’s right.” Onyx smoothed a hand down one of his long white braids, an old habit, then accepted the bowl of potatoes from Jezzca. Reaper had to help his anxious father finish up, before passing the dish again. Onyx was brother to Al's estranged wife. Onyx might soon have to explain his own absence to that side of the family before long, they all knew it. Things were quiet for a while, as those at the table thought through their own impressions of the Shadowlands, the rumors and nightmare stories leaking back.

Faol solemnly nodded, “Well. Al here is the sort of man made to go and mow enemies down, too. This conflict may call all our able-bodied sons and daughters to battle before too long. This is Azeroth, this is life. That’s how it is.”

Wisthera took her husband’s hand and squeezed it.

Jezzca got pointed at again, not to sign up for any fighting. “Okay! MOM!”

“And you talk to your mother more respectfully. It’s Pilgrim’s Bounty for Elune’s sake.” Mrs. Felina Jadescythe started eating, signaling the rest that it was okay to do so as well. “My son is a soldier, that is true. And we are all very proud that he followed in the footsteps of the High Priestess to do what is right, not just for our people but also for the Alliance. And, for Azeroth.” The sound of their knives and forks tapping along plates filled the festive decorated room. Low candlelight thankfully helped soften some of the more worried expressions. “…And I’ve seen Mistress Glaivefall, I believe. Though she probably wouldn’t realize it or recognize me. At the local farmer’s market. If it's the same woman I saw, Jiroki Glavefall? She has land in Pandaria, then. Not far from here."

Wisthera nudged Alessandre to confirm. He nodded at their mother, that it was true.

Feline tried to smile as she went on, "If I had known that was her, the uh, nice lady our son was spending time with, I would have introduced myself. Of course, I would have. Sheryl Tenderpaw pointed her out to me from across the way, and said that our neighbor was a very accomplished woman, an ex-Sentinel. And she really is lovely, Faol—”

Sharpen’s father grunted, cut into his turkey.

“Faol, she’s tall and athletic, like Jezzca. Green hair…” Mrs. Jadescythe eyed her two daughters returning to the table. Both were older than Sharpen. Hiyuna had her arm around Liziqi and helped her re-take her seat. “I was just saying, Sharpen’s… friend, his lady friend, is very beautiful and hard-working. Someone to be very proud of. He’s done well.” Feline neatly laid a piece of ham on her tongue, chewed, and swallowed before admitting the rest, “With four really sweet children who love green apples if I can recall. Oh, they were the sweetest things at the market! And very well-behaved too. Mistress Glaivefall asked them to wait in line for their treat and that’s just what they did. Very young, about two-years old I’d say. And the other was a toddler, but a little younger, I think. Though I only saw three children out that day. I hear the last girl is grown, an adopted daughter. Which shows Jiroki has a good heart.”

Faol Jadescythe stopped eating. This was overwhelming, even for the sort of man to father Sharpen Jadescythe.

Jezzca blurted out, “Wait. She has four kids?”

Hiyuna, a grown woman herself, stabbed the slice of ham on her plate. “Well, what's wrong with that, Jezzca? Don't judge him. Sharpen doesn’t find nice girlfriends or boyfriends so easily—isn’t he going through enough right now?”

Liziqi had a big drink of wine, “In the hell he’s putting us in, just because he couldn't find his girlfriend? I’d say not enough.” Hiyuna and Liziqi were the ones who mostly helped with the farm. They were a lot tougher and more sensible than Jezzca, with her costly purple hair dye that she kept up at the Stormwind barber’s constantly, and reputation for giving even the Sentinels a run for their money when she was just a new initiate. They didn’t have the advantages of a fast city life like their two younger siblings did, and their undyed, dark green hair, as well as plainer clothes more reflected a simple life. Sharpen was also reportedly dyeing his hair wild colors, and even rumored to be in some kind of extravagant performance troupe.

Wisthera tried to move things on by agreeing with the best of the bad tidings, “Jiroki is -not- his girlfriend, but she is someone Sharpen cares a lot for, and yes, she is a really nice person. Like Al said.”

Sharpen’s mother paused eating, finally putting two and two together. She rolled her eyes briefly, at Sharpen’s empty chair. “Well, knowing Jiroki had four children would have only encouraged your brother. He’s always adopting sweet little creatures. And um, Faol?”

Faol had already put down his knife and fork. His wife’s telltale sweet voice suddenly coming through wasn’t a good thing in his experience.

“You’d like Jiroki’s husband, I hear he’s a very accomplished Demon Hunter. Perhaps, if…” she struggled, “Well, we should be sure of… things, first. But we could perhaps have them over to the house sometime for dinner. What do you think, Wisthera?”

Wisthera, Sharpen’s oldest sister, finally decided she had said enough for the holiday. Done enough, even. She pressed her lips into a thin line, got up and busied herself with placing Sharpen’s folded letter back in its white envelope, and then on the mantlepiece. Her husband Onyxbane joined her too, pretending it was a great big job that needed two people.

Faol Jadescythe simmered for a long while, as his wife went on chatting with Alessandre who was seated on her left. “… Of course, I can see how that might happen. There are all kinds of marriages these days. It’s creative, but I’m sure it’s loving enough. With all these wars, people do what they have to, I’m sure. Another thing--I hate to say it, but you know Sharpen would have never had a shot at a great woman like Jiroki Glaivefall otherwise. I love my son, I do, but he can be very, very silly.”

Faol finally erupted, “MARRIED?!”

-fin-

*Note: Please don’t ask me why I picked the prettiest names I could think of from my YouTube travels for Sharpen’s other two sisters…

#turkey-day #alessandre

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monolithrose · 5 years ago

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Big book of whiterose

Chapter: 5 (????)

prompt: Protective/angry Ruby is best Ruby

This takes place in volume 8 where they’re down in mantle fighting the Grimm and Ruby and Weiss run into Cinder again. Also, BLOOD WARNING!! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

<<<<0>>>>

“Stay away from her” Ruby hissed, more venom in her voice than in a death stalkers tail

“Oh, the rose has thorns” Cinder laughed

Ruby stayed quiet, glaring and tightening the grip on her scythe. Cinder was only trying to piss her off even more, and she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of succeeding. Weiss hid behind Ruby, as much as she wanted to help her partner she was wounded and low on aura, continuing to fight would be a death wish.

Cinder and Ruby stood there, silently challenging the other to make a move. Ruby didn’t want to leave Weiss unguarded, and Cinder knew that. But Cinder didn’t want to leave her current position, if she did there was a high chance she’d get blasted by a beam of silver again. Weiss coughed and put a hand to her mouth, but when she looked at her palm her glove was stained in blood.

“Ruby...” She rasped

“I know” Ruby replied, she lowered her voice significantly “Grab my scroll out of my pocket and call for reinforcements” She whispered, moving the scythe so it hid Weiss’ hand grabbing her scroll

Weiss did as she was told and opened the teams group chat, typing the words ‘send help. sharing coordinates now’ she couldn’t call the two, if she did Yang would probably accidentally blow her cover and she wanted to be as quiet as possible. Weiss was sitting behind Ruby, leaning up against her leg in a position so she was mostly hidden by her cape and Cinder couldn’t see her.

Now all they could do was sit and wait, hoping Yang and Blake would get to them before Cinder made a move. Cinder hid behind a mostly clear glass shield she had built with dust and her semblance that the silver eyes couldn’t break through, if Ruby hit it hard enough it would break, but using such power takes a toll on her, it would leave her and Weiss vulnerable.

Weiss began coughing up more blood and felt like she was about to pass out, she put a hand over the gash in her side and desperately tried to stop the blood that had started gushing from the wound. Things began to get blurry and she could feel blood beginning to dribble from her lips. She felt like she was choking and began gasping for air. Ruby screamed her name and Cinder began taunting the silver eyed girl.

“Weiss! No, no, no!” She screamed, turning angrily to Cinder “You bitch!” She screeched at the girl. Ruby had dropped to her knees and was cradling Weiss in her arms, leaving her open for an attack.

Cinder chuckled “I never took you one for using such strong language”

Ruby looked at Weiss, she was choking on her own blood and gasping for breathe, then looked back to Cinder “Kill me. Kill me and spare her.”

“Oh, but that would be no fun, would it? I want to see you lose whats most precious to you, I want to see you suffer” She growled, they way she talked made it seem like it was a game to her.

Ruby saw red. She removed her cloak and maneuvered it around Weiss to try and stop the bleeding, leaned down to kiss her forehead, and whispered to her partner

“I’m sorry Weiss, I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you” She leaned in close “Blake and Yang will be here soon, I’ll take care of Cinder, wait for them if I...” She looked away to the ground sadly “I don’t make it”

Weiss desperately began trying to speak, begging Ruby to not do what she thought she was gonna do, but all that came out was more gasps and choked whimpers. All Ruby did was smile softly at her, then stand up and grab crescent rose from the ground. She had a death glare on her face, one that meant she was pissed.

Cinder eyed her, skeptically. A silver mist began bleeding off of Ruby’s eyes as she walked towards Cinder, scaring the maiden. She knew what those eyes were capable of. Ruby let out a yell of anger, ran forward, and began slashing at the shield with her scythe. Cinder panicked and ran out from the safety of her shield, avoiding every one of Ruby’s rage filled attacks. When Cinder was out in the open, Ruby activated her silver eyes.

A bright silver light filled the area and Cinder screamed in pain, but just as she was recovering Ruby smacked her across the face with the sniper form of her scythe. Cinder whipped her head towards the girl, fire bleeding out from the corner of her eyes. Ruby pressed the barrel of the gun directly onto her forehead

“If you even dare to move, I will pull the trigger” She warned

“Then you won’t be any better than me” Cinder laughed

“I can live with that”

Cinder looked shocked and angry, but Ruby’s icy glare and the way she held her sniper made her realize the leader wasn’t kidding. Cinder had hurt her partner, the person who meant the most to her, and thats what turned, sweet, lovable Ruby into a cold hearted killer who wasn’t scared to paint the ground with her brains. Less than a second later Blake and Yang came rushing in, looked at Ruby, then at Weiss, and both of them got an angry look on their faces.

“Rubes, lower the gun, we’ve got it from here” Yang said, approaching her sister. Ruby did as she was told and the blonde took her place, aiming the gun on her robotic arm at Cinder.

The first thing Ruby did was run to Weiss, who was being helped by Blake. Luckily, Weiss was breathing, but had passed out from the amount of blood she had lost. Blake was trying to stop the bleeding, but Ruby’s cloak had fortunately stopped a lot of the blood.

Ruby took her partner into her arms, brushing her blood-stained hair out of her face. She hoisted Weiss up into her arms and looked back to Yang, who still had her gun trained on Cinders forehead. With a simple nod of her head, Ruby signaled Blake to help the blonde.

“Should we leave her here or...?” Yang asked as Blake used her ribbon to tie her hands behind her back

“Of course not, but right now Weiss is the main priority” Ruby looked at her partner “We have to get her to the hospital. now”

“Got it, we’ll take care of Cinder, you take care of Weiss” Blake said

“are you sure?” “Positive”

Ruby nodded in thanks and took off down the hall, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She was scared, of course she was. Weiss, her best friend and partner, could die. She had failed to protect her, she had gotten hurt because of her foolishness. Ruby choked back her tears and began thinking positive like she always did in these situations. No. Weiss wouldn’t die, she’s Weiss Schnee for crying out loud! She’s the strongest, prettiest, and most stubborn human alive. She would fight death with every ounce of strength she had. She’d tell the Grimm reaper to speak to her lawyer if he came to take her.

Ruby smiled at the thought of Weiss telling a skeleton in a dark hood and carrying a scythe to speak to her lawyer, it was definitely something she’d do. Yeah, Weiss would be okay. Of course she would. Ruby burst through the door of the nearest hospital that was luckily still open despite all the chaos Salem had caused. There were lots of people there, but none of them had wounds near as bad as Weiss’. Ruby had some cuts and burns, but it was something you could patch up with a first aid kit.

The nurse at the desks eyes went wide and she ran into the back, yelling for the doctor. Ruby held Weiss close, she had made it and her partner would be okay...

<<<<0>>>>

Have I learned to write angst? No. This was just an edited filler. Maybe I will make part 2 if u guys like it enough.

#Blood/gore #blood/gore warning #whiterose #rwby #weiss schnee #ruby rose #iceflower #weiss x ruby #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #my writing

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 5 years ago

Text

A thousand years of Happiness

Warning: fluff, language, and more fluff, just pure fluff

Summary: Five years later everything is better and everyone is happy. Steve goes over a few memories and congratulates Bucky on doing what he said he was going to do for 70 years straight. They are happy.

70 years of grief

70 years of pain

70 years alone

70 years to happiness

A Thousand Years of Happiness

They went to therapy as they said they would together and apart they talked about their issues. (Y/n) talked about her abandonment and anger issues as well as her resentment towards others and their happiness. Steve talked about his commitment issues, attachment issues, and how he believes everyone wanted him to act a certain way and this way caused him trouble with important people in his life.

(Y/n) learned she didn’t need to forgive Steve she just needed to understand where he was in those moments and not surround herself by hate any longer. She couldn’t let that control her life any longer. Steve learned that he could not and should not expect (y/n) to forgive him what he did to her was wrong and she was at a very low point in her life when all this occurred. Also, he should not keep everything bottled up he tends to release it in irresponsible and reckless behavior.

Together and apart they were making progress with themselves. A year later they were becoming Happy.

“Are you ready?” Steve said as he smoothed out his suit for the third time. His emotions were all over the place right now but on the surface, he was okay and good to go he was totally okay and ready for this mission. He looked determined.

“Yeah, let’s do this” (Y/n) said picking up her decorated secret weapon of choice and taking Steve’s arm. As the doors opened music began to play as they walked down the path all eyes were on them as they walked down the path. Bucky was at the end of this path looking like he was very determined but also holding on to his emotions barely. When they reached the end the music stopped. Steve took his place behind Bucky and (y/n) handed decorated secret weapon to Tony who was standing behind her.

“Welcome friends and family. “ and cue the waterworks. As soon as Thor said those words Both Steve and Bucky burst into tears. Reaching over the bride Tony passed two handkerchiefs to Bucky and Steve. (Y/n) giggled a bit as she helped her groom wipe his tears trying to hold back her own. Sam got Steve to pull himself together enough and they left Thor to continue.

“We have gathered here today under the sight of..well me, and those that are loved and cared for, To witness and celebrate these two beautiful people come together starting a new chapter in life as Husband and Wife.” And more tears. (Y/n) waited until after the kiss to burst into tears

“She an assassin. He’s an assassin. She has knives. He has guns. These two are like the deadliest match made in heaven. Seriously I met them both behind glass windows for my safety and I didn’t feel safe. And Now as her best friend and his third greatest rival, second being Sam Wilson and First being Metal detectors, Standing her today I .....still don’t feel safe. He has a Glock on his ankle. She has knives in her bouquet. I’m not kidding.” Everyone laughed and to support his claim she pulled out three knives from her Bouquet. Some people stopped laughing others laughed harder. “Seriously when he dips under that dress he’s going to come back with a garter and 9 millimeter Smith & Wesson. But even as dangerous and unstable both of you are you deserved Happiness and You’ve finally found it. To you and your future super soldier babies, I say cheers.”

Everyone clapped as and took sips of their glass as Tony stepped down bowing dramatically and giving Steve a high five on the way.

“ Hello, Hello. I’m Steve. but you guys probably knew that already. Today my brother and sister got married, that sounds weird. Um... today two people I love and care for deeply have found love in each other and have promised themselves to each other forever. Four times, Bucky told be Four times he was going to marry my sister. The first time-

Bucky and Steve had met a few days prior. Bucky had Saved Steve from a beating and the two had become fast friends. “Come on let's go. I want to show you something” Bucky said as he dragged Steve along. He had stolen Steve from his home in the early morning with the promise of showing him something cool and pretty. Suddenly Bucky ducks down behind a car and pulls Steve with him. as he looks around the corner he waves Steve over. “ Look, see that girl in the blue dress,” he says nodding his head towards two girls one in a pink dress and another in a blue dress that was very familiar to Steve.

“What about her?” he was curious to hear what he had to say about the blue dress girl.

“isn’t she the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. She’s gorgeous. I’m going to marry that girl”

“ That’s my sister”

“Yeah in the first week we met at the age of 8 he confessed to being in love with my little sister. Way To start a relationship. And me being the smart ass-osicate that I am” Steve sends a wink to Clint And Lauren who brought their children “I introduce him and his sentence to her was “ I’m JUcky” he couldn’t pick between James and Bucky. She called him Jucky for two weeks before his mother corrected her. The next time he told me that he was going to marry her was at Prom-

Steve was sitting on the curve in the parking lot holding a towel up to his bleeding nose. He had just got kicked out of his senior Prom for fighting. The guys were talking mess about his sister he told them to stop and knock it off they didn’t and a fight began. The guys who beat him up were still inside dancing the night away while he was bleeding outside.

“Sorry I ruined your night. I know you were trying to make it special for her.”

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Bucky said as he rubbed Steve’s back.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your dance.”

“It doesn’t matter Steve. Because I’m going to marry that girl and after we’ll have a million dances”

As if on cue (y/n) came out screaming at the top of her lunges cursing everybody.

“Are you sure?”

“he said he was sure. I mean She was screaming at the top of her lunges like a banshie but he looked at her like an angel fallen from heaven. She looked like something that crawled up from hell in a dress” Everyone began to laugh while (y/n) dunked her head embarrassed Bucky kissed her hairline and brought her back up. “ The third time he said it we were camped out in Germany as soldiers. And he didn’t just tell me he told everyone who would hear. And showed them all a picture of his future wife.”

The soldiers were sharing stories and photos of their families and loved ones. Bucky was eager to tell his story when it was his turn. Steve just rolled his eyes as he watched his friend bounce in his seat.

“Alright Barnes, you’re practically vibrating over there. Tell us about yours.”

“ (Y/n), (y/n) Rogers,” Bucky said as he passed around a picture of her.

“My sister” Steve as he passed around a different picture of her.

“Isn’t she beautiful? she’s at home waiting for us. She’s.. the one who keeps pushing me. If it wasn’t for her I would have kicked the bucket already.”

“What am I a bug?” Steve said throwing up his arm very offended but Bucky ignores him.

“She’s the love of my life. I can’t imagine living life without her and I don’t want to. And When we get back I’m going to marry her.”

“Are you asking me or tell me?”

“So yeah everyone knew who Bucky’s future wife was before she herself knew. Like even the German Prisoners we caught he showed them pictures of her too. I think that was Torture for them listening to him go on and on about her for hours and days. They were annoyed so much they became allies to get away from him.” Now it was Bucky’s turn to be embarrassed and Sam was eating it up as Bucky dipped his head into his wife’s neck hiding.

“And the last time he said he was going to marry her I was done for nearly 70 years he’s been talking about this girl and how he was going to marry and make his wife yet he hadn’t even asked. I was kind of over it at that time.”

“ Reaper, Reaper, That's what people call me. Why? 'Cause they all die. When I sing, I end their lives. You act as though payback makes you a nobleman. Is that a fact? Well, you're a goddamn philistine! “

(Y/n) was sing and skipping through the compound looking for her target. Even though it was really creepy and scary the singing was doing good as it was making the agents run away from her and towards the others who would rather be knocked out and captured by them then killed brutally by her.

“(y/n), honey, but that song is extremely creepy can you turn off your mic.

“Don’t you dare darling. You sing your heart about baby girl.” Bucky said scoffing at Tony

“Requiem aeternum, reaper has come, sinner.

Thigh-high socks are my absolute territory, Go on and drool, the Otaku can not resist. You think the fire in your eyes makes you a tiger in disguise? Dream on, you goddamn pussy! “ she began to sing louder

“Friday Please mute (Y/n)”

“Reaper, reaper, That's what people call me. -”

“Thank you.”

“For shame on you Tony for shame.”

“Shut up Barnes. You can make her sing when we get back to the compound” Tony teased the others laughed as Steve then turned off his own mic as he did not want to hear them talking about his sister like that. Bucky, who was standing next to him, followed suit turning his off as well.

“I like her singing”

“It is creepy, Bucky.”

“She sings other things as well. She has a very beautiful voice”

“I know. You forget she uses to sing me to sleep when I was sick. Sunshine was my favorite song.” Steve smiled at the memory.

“Sunshine?” Sam question as he stepped out of a lab and started to walk next to them.

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine You make me happy-you know that song.”

“I don’t know why but I can’t imagine her sing that song.” As if on cue (y/n) came skipping down the hall she was in her usual gear a black bulletproof dress that stopped at her knees. A small amount of blood was splashed on her face and her shoes left an imprint of blood in her steps. In one hand she had her dagger and the other her danger. She smiled and waved with her dagger as she skipped along still singing.

“Requiem eternal, Bullets right through the sternum, Lullaby to hell bane, Reaper's got your name.

Margaret is Greek you geek, It means a pearl, I'm a pure girl. Boys cannot crack this oyster shell, So go on, whip around that sword like you're the best, It's such a bore, Another hero? Oh please”

They all waited until her singing faded away before speaking again. It was Bucky who spoke first and his words shocked Sam but made Steve roll his eyes.

“I’m going to marry that girl”

“Are you sure?” Sams asked looking concerned but also amused “ That seems a bit dangerous”.

“I don’t care I’m going to marry her. I’m going to make her my wife.”

“JUST DO IT ALREADY” Steve shouts startling both Bucky and Sam “ You’ve been talking about this for nearly 70 years just do it already. I’m tired of hearing about it but never see it. Don’t get my hopes up pop the fucking question.” Steve walked away mumbling about how slow Bucky was and he probably has to wait another 50 years. Sam and Bucky just looked at each other.

“After that, he came home and finally asked her. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve watched you guys love each other for a hundred years. I’ve watched Bucky promise himself to you and only you for a hundred years. The years have not been kind to any of you. You’ve both changed dramatically, you both grew, you lived through time. But the thing that stayed constant with you two was your love for each other. You two have loved each other for a hundred years. And now I asked everyone to raise their glasses for another hundred years of pure love for these two”

“AND THEIR BABIES” Tony shouted everyone laughed Steve smiled

“And their future children.”

Everyone cheered as their glasses clinked and they drank. (Y/n) and Bucky smiles sharing a gentle kiss. He was right the only constant in her life so far was her love for Bucky. And Bucky always had her name at the back of his mind and his love for her on the tip of his tongue even when he couldn’t remember her. In their hundred years, happiness had not been a constant, with the way they were living it was a privilege they were not allowed to have. But now the darkness was fading away and bringing forth the light they were ready for it and they were going to protect it.

No more hate, No more pain, no more grief, no more abandonment, Just pure happiness and nothing more. This is what she always wanted and she finally got it.

It wasn’t perfect but it was hers.

The End

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years ago

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784.

Have you ever worn those Drunk Goggles? >> I vaguely remember seeing those as like a gag gift at Spencer’s or something, but I’ve never worn any. I’ve been drunk, though, so I think I’ve got the experience of wearing Drunk Goggles well covered.

Which decade before the 90s had the best makeup trends? >> I don’t know anything about makeup trends before the eighties, now that I think about it.

Can you agree to disagree, or usually get upset over conflicting views? >> I can be upset sometimes, especially if the thing being debated is something I have a particular personal investment in. But I have learned how to be upset by myself, and not make it anyone else’s problem. (Which leads to a lot of unresolved feelings, I’ve also learned, but hey.)

Does it bug you when long socks are constantly falling down? >> I don’t wear long socks, and that’s one reason why.

Rodeos – entertaining, or cruel? >> I don’t know anything about rodeos and therefore do not have an opinion.

Why can’t politicians debate politely? >> Because it’s assumed that the general public will not remain engaged unless there’s some sort of drama. ...Honestly, I can see where they get that impression, but it can also be alienating for those of us who aren’t looking for entertainment from our politicians.

Who is the best female rocker? Why? >> Floor Jansen is one of my favourites. So is Skin, from Skunk Anansie.

Can you even taste a difference between Cheez Its and Cheez Nips? >> I don’t know, I’ve not had both of them.

What about between Pepsi and Coke or Sprite and 7Up? >> Yeah, I’ve tasted differences between both of those and I have preferences.

Do you care what kind of toilet paper you use? >> Yes, I care. I don’t like either extreme (too rough or too soft).

What color of roses do you find the prettiest? >> I’ve never given it any consideration.

Which celebrity has the cutest butt? >> I don’t know. But Sarah Snook, who plays Siobhan Roy on Succession, has a pretty eye-catching booty.

Do you still have any decent arcades nearby? >> Not to my knowledge.

After a holiday, do you go to the store to get candy on sale? >> No, but I might get some for Sparrow.

Did Marilyn Monroe look better before or after cosmetic surgery? >> ---

Bullfighters who get gored kind of had it coming, right? >> I mean, yeah.

If you make surveys, do you care what people rate them? >> I don’t make them, but if I did, that wouldn’t be a concern of mine. The only time I’m tempted to make a survey is because there are questions that it surprises me that no one ever asks, and that I’d love to answer myself. So I’d be making it for my benefit, primarily, and if anyone else enjoys it then that’s just icing on an already-good cake.

Have you ever accidentally found porn when looking for something else? >> Yeah, but it doesn’t happen much nowadays.

Ever run into those ‘celebrity lookalike porn’ blogs? >> Long time ago, yeah. You know, before tumblr changed its policy.

If you’re not religious, is the Bible basically just an old collection of short stories? >> My understanding of the Bible is that it’s a collection of laws and writings -- stories, poetry, letters, op-ed pieces (lol). The New Testament in particular seems to be just a bunch of letters appended to four different accounts of one dude’s birth and early life and concluded with a really dramatic callout post for the Roman Empire. I am very fond of this giant mishmosh of opinions and dramatically-recounted stories, tbh, it’s really interesting from both a historical and mythological perspective.

Do you think religious leaders just like to manipulate people? >> Of course.

Why do so many fans with OTP’s insist that their ship is real? Even when the writers (or real people that they ship) tell them it isn’t? >> I don’t know. I’ve never really delved into why that’s so important to a lot of fans, although it does intrigue me. I think it might have something to do with the varieties of ways in which people interact with and understand stories, but I’m not able to articulate exactly what I mean right now, I don’t have the words all organised in my brain and ready to go.

Do you draw fanart of anything? >> No, I don’t draw. I write fan fiction.

Do annoying city kids ever loiter outside your library and harass people? >> I’ve never witnessed any harassment outside of a library around here. That seems more likely to have happened in NYC, though.

Do you like to hang out at your local library? >> Occasionally. I used to basically live at the library when I was in the City, because I was homeless. I think I don’t go to the library as often anymore because of that -- it’s registered in my mind as “the place you go and sit in all day because you can’t go anywhere else” and it disorients me if I do it now.

On that subject, do you like the smell of books? >> Some books.

What’s on your Reading List, so-to-speak, right now? >> I’m between books right now. I’m still debating whether I want to try to finish The Denial of Death or whether I want to give it up for now, and the fact that I’ve been debating that for like a week most likely means that I should give it up. I can always pick it up again at a later date.

Read any great non-fiction books lately? >> Sure.

What do you like on your burger? >> Lettuce, onion, bacon, mustard or bbq sauce, some kind of cheese (preferably pepper jack). Jalapeño peppers can be good too.

What do you NOT like on your burger? >> Mayo, sometimes tomato (I go back and forth, it just depends on the day).

Do you like ‘loose meat’ sandwiches? >> I’m not sure what that is, but the name isn’t too enticing, let me tell you.

Have you ever heard of the restaurant Maid Rite? >> No.

What is the best thing to put in a grilled cheese (other than cheese)? >> I don’t even remember what things I like in a grilled cheese, I haven’t had one in ages. Oh! HopCat sells one that has honey and apple in it and that’s pretty good. I do like “weird” grilled cheeses.

Homemade tomato soup, or just out of a can? >> Not out of a can, that’s for sure. There are some premade ones that I do like, but they’re never canned (usually they’ll come in cartons).

Favorite thing to see in museums? >> I like sci-tech museums, so, that stuff.

Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? >> No.

What things have people shamed you for? >> The kind of music I like, the kind of people I think are pretty, the way I look, the way I behave/my idiosyncrasies, my emotional responses, my needs... I mean, basically almost anything you can think of.

Do you always reply to private messages? (On any website) >> I usually do.

What device do you seem to always be buying batteries for? >> I don’t think anything I currently use takes disposable batteries.

What’s worse – snow, or all the mud after it melts? >> Definitely the latter.

Are there any 'adult stores’ in your area? >> Probably. Not in this city proper, but like... around. Somewhere.

Have you been inside of them/shopped there before? >> I’ve been to a lot of them in NYC.

Do you watch The Masked Singer? Any theories? >> No.

Favorite Alfred Hitchcock film? >> I don’t have one.

Do you like Funko Pop figurines? >> Meh. The novelty wears off pretty quickly.

If so, do you have any? Which ones would you like to have? >> Yeah, having a few is how I know the novelty wears off pretty quickly, hah. I have two Marvel!Heimdalls (from two different movies), a Roland and a Walter from the Dark Tower movie, Jesse and Cassidy from the Preacher TV show, Lucio and Reaper from Overwatch, and Vivec from The Elder Scrolls. I actually had to go looking in the living room because I’d forgotten I had that many. That’s another few items for the donation / giveaway bin...

Which ones do you think they should make (but haven’t yet)? >> At this point, I think they should stop, lmao. There are so fucking many.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 6 years ago

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so, I saw many people who think that the ending in Billie's book is suicide? But I kinda felt like, there was no ending. The only other option is for Dean to not die, to keep Michael locked up forever. What do you think is the ending?

Eh, the billion dollar question. Which, thanks for sending because I’ve just been so overwhelmed with feels that I have simply given up on making something coherent out of it.

Let me make a little detour first and say how the show is making explicit some things that we were saying but have been made textual now - cosmic consequences doesn’t mean something neat and clearly visible as the direct consequence of a particular action. It’s a ripple effect, a butterfly effect. Playing with the castle of cards that the universe is... you end up rewriting fate. That’s what Billie keeps saying. To the people who accuse the show of belittling Billie because she warns the Winchesters that Terrible Things(TM) are coming if they do certain things, but then they do the things and Terrible Things(TM) don’t happen - this is the answer. There are no “obvious” Terrible Things(TM) coming, it’s the fabric of fate being changed in ways that Billie can see, but that the other characters - and us - can’t unless Billie tells them (and us).

In an episode where Michael discusses about God being a writer, of course (in a classic Dabb era move, I mean) eventually we come to see where the story is really being written. Just like Anubis said that God doesn’t decide whether a person goes to hell or heaven, but the person themselves decides with their actions -- so the story of the world is not being written by God. There was a script, but it was revealed that following it was a choice (that Team Free Will rejected). There are, obviously, guidelines. But it’s fundamentally choices made by people that write the story. Billie had already shown us that there are many, many possible ways a person’s story can go, and now we learn explicitly that a person’s entire array of fate possibilities can be even rewritten, if that person messes up with the order of the cosmos enough.

Michael, the dark Dean double, says that God can be killed, and that he’ll destroy his “draft worlds” because he can. This is basically the dark equivalent of what Dean does - Dean, who metaphorically destroys God’s scripts, who metaphorically “kill gods”. Dean “Free Will” Winchester can destroy the stories who have been written so far, he can kill God, he can shape his own destiny and the destiny of the cosmos. Of course, right now things are probably going to take a difficult turn because this is Supernatural, but the point is that Dean does what Michael claims for himself - he “destroys worlds-stories” and “kills God” in this sense.

Now, I don’t know what the book Billie shows Dean says, and I’m not particularly interested in making speculations about it because we just don’t know, but what really interests me is Billie’s behavior in this episode.

She breaks the rules. She intervenes, she sends Sam, Cas, Jack and the Michael+Dean package to the bunker so Cas and Sam can enter Dean’s mind, return Dean to the control room of his body, and stuff Michael away for the time being.

Sam said that one of your reapers really came through with the assist. I’m thinking that was probably you.Don’t tell anyone.You broke the rules.I took a calculated risk.

She is interested in the world not being destroyed, and she is making an investment in Dean in the perspective of Dean possibly choosing that one path that doesn’t end with Michael destroying the world. Of course, she is not going to force Dean to choose, she is not going to arrange things in a way that Dean cannot but go in that direction. She is leaving him the fundamental choice. That’s up to you. But breaking the hands-off rule, letting Dean read out of a book from her office - that’s a big move. I’m supposing that Death revealing about the books back about Sam and Rowena wasn’t exactly orthodox already, but now she has handed a book to Dean, which I’m sure is just as unorthodox and the various other adventures Dean has had with Death.

*sound of the millions of Death Dean/Reaper Dean meta-spec written along the course of the show crying of emotion in the distance*

(Consider also Michael basically saying he plans to kill God - the original Death said he was going to reap God, and Michael is a mirror for Dean in this narrative; and now Billie basically puts Dean in a narrative position where he’s framed as Death, because reading those books, holding those books, is what Death does: Dean is consistently shown across the show as on equal footing with reapers and Death, and literally (s6) or metaphorically in their shoes.)

Billie is taking a big “calculated risk” in putting this much... responsibility? trust? in Dean, and I might add that she’s acknowledging Dean not really as an equal - obviously they’re not the same thing - but on an equal footing of sorts when it comes to this situation.

But no, I really don’t know what the book might say.

What are the alternatives to Michael running loose? Either keeping him locked up forever (a), or destroying him (b).

The former is... impossible, or just not really worth investing on. Even if Dean arranged some kind of send-me-to-outer-space-to-be-a-lock-forever situation - oh, wait, that has never worked. The Cage God built is not a very solid solution - Lucifer got out twice, Michael is still there but another Michael showed up, so, really, the purpose of it is basically bypassed. Basically, you lock one Michael up, another one takes his place on the cosmic chessboard, you know? I feel confident in saying locking up Michael doesn’t work.

In fact, locking up your problems doesn’t work. It’s not a coincidence that in this episode Michael mentions God: locking up things is God’s specialty. And it doesn’t work. The Cage is like Swiss cheese. Amara, the ultimate problem he locked up to get rid of, also escaped and almost killed God if it weren’t for Dean’s intervention. In this episode, there are several attempts to lock things up that don’t work in a way or another: in the hotel, they need to be teleported away because the door wasn’t going to hold; the shapeshifter pretending to be a hunter doesn’t lock the bunker... rule of three, the third locking up, Michael’s, succeeds for the time being, but we can’t expect it to last forever.

Unless Dean manages to find a way to mute Michael, to lock him up to well he doesn’t make any noise, literally and figuratively. But... well, no. For the simple extradiegetic reason that we can’t have Dean get to the end the show with Michael just locked inside and that’s it. In-story, it just doesn’t seem like a sustainable solution. And knowing that Dean has a neutralized archangel inside of him in a fridge? Not exactly the prettiest scenario.

Also, it’s probably early to really make statements about this, but all of this Michael, Michael vs God, Dean vs Michael situation is all a mirror for Dean’s dynamic with John, and we know something huge regarding Dean and John is coming, so... whatever the solution to the Michael problem is going to be, it’s going to be a mirror to whatever the resolution of Dean’s John-related trauma is going to be like. Stuffing the problem inside of you forever is not a solution to trauma, and it can’t be a solution to Michael.

And now we get to (b). And we have two possibilities: Dean manages to find a way to destroy Michael that allows him to live, or Dean destroys himself and Michael. But what does it mean to destroy an angel...? Well, we know what happens to dead angels. Is whatever the book says related to the Empty and the Shadow that rules it? That’s a possibility, and also a way the Michael/Dean storyline could merge with the Empty/Cas storyline, but I’m putting the carriage before the horses.

I really don’t like using the CW promo for the next episode to speculate on, because CW promos are notoriously not a reliable tool for speculation, and the Onwards trailer doesn’t seem to give anything away in this regard, so I’m not going to speculate on what Dean “acting strange” might be specifically an indicator of. (He’s planning to die soon? He’s attempting some kind of strategy like when he was trying to control the Mark of Cain? We just don’t know yet.)

This post has gotten long enough, so I’m ending it on with a note on Jensen’s acting. First of all: give this man all the prizes. He’s superb in every episode, but this episode allowed him to showcase his talents beautifully, both as Michael and as Dean.

In the final scene, Jensen initially plays Dean as half-heartedly trying to put on a façade of confidence in front of Billie - I think he’s purposely played it as Dean not really trying, because he does know there’s no point to it (I think he’s doing it more for himself than for Billie, if you get what I mean). The subtle horror when Billie says that ‘all the books’ end with Michael getting control, the wariness when she mentions an exception, the frown when he basically asks her silently if he can/should open it, the shock/surprise -- I think then Dean’s expression reveals a sort of mixture of disorientation and understanding at the same time. He understands what what is written means - Billie doesn’t feel the need to explain more, after all - and that understanding leaves him lost and vulnerable. That’s eventually what Jensen plays - that almost childlike quality what Jensen gives Dean when he’s unguarded in his helplessness. It’s the way Jensen played Dean overwhelmed by the horror of losing his own sense of identity when he lost his memory under the witch’s spell...

Interestingly, he gives a quick glance to the book and he looks up at Billie wide-eyed and slack-mouthed, asking what he’s supposed to do with that knowledge - a sign that he’s understood the gist of what’s in the book - then he reads more and he seems to find some additional detail that further gets him shaken.

But then again, we just don’t know what’s in that book, so we just have to wait and see.

In the meanwhile I’m expecting the fandom to provide crack suggestions :3

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn spec #spn 14x10 #dean and billie #dean and death #spn #anon

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anistarrose · 5 years ago

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taz balance for the ask meme?

(Send me a show or movie and I’ll tell you…)

favorite male character: Barry for sure! The intro of Reunion Tour almost immediately made him my favorite character in the podcast, and since then he’s quickly becoming one of my favorites from any series. (Second place is a tie between all of Tres Horny Bois.)

favorite female character: Lup is both a huge badass and a lovestruck nerd, and I love her so much. I (vaguely) knew of her existence before I got into TAZ, but I could not have possibly predicted how amazing she would be.

least favorite character: I can’t think of anyone I really hate, except in the “love to hate” sense, which would apply to basically all villains... oh wait, actually, I hold nothing but fury for Sazed.

prettiest character: The fandom draws both Lup and Lucretia in some really fashionable outfits!

funniest character: Taako whenever he interacts with either Leon or Garfield.

favorite season: Again taking this to mean my favorite arc, which in this case would probably be The Stolen Century! I love the seven birds interactions, the Parley scenes, the Voidfish lore and the Blupjeans content all so much.

favorite episode: Episode 57, the end of The Suffering Game. “Sturdy, denim, and blue” makes me absolutely lose it every time. Honorable mention to Episode 56, thanks to Arms Outstretched.

favorite romantic ship: Blupjeans!!! It may just be my all-time OTP for any series (I admittedly don’t ship a lot of stuff, but I really love these two and I’m so glad they got to be together and hug again in corporeal forms).

favorite family ship: The whole Starblaster crew, baby! If I had to pick just two characters, the twins’ relationship of course gives me tons of feels.

favorite friend ship: Most of my favorite friendships in this show are also kind of found families, but for the sake of giving a different answer from the last topic, I imagine Kravitz becomes pretty good friends with Lup and Barry, and I feel like they’d get into a lot of shenanigans together during reaper quests.

worst ship: I can’t think of any popular ones I really dislike, though in the case of most non-canon ships I pretty much always prefer to interpret said relationships platonically.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #rosalia answers #yourbonesarenowmycoat

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yoey-writes · 5 years ago

Text

PROLOGUE

This was written a while ago.

A WARNING

This is going to hurt.

Not just me. This story will hurt all those who even so much as brush the spine of it – that includes you. Or, at least, it should hurt. It’s supposed to, after all.

Something I’ve learnt about humans in my time here, is that you rarely make effort towards anything unless Hurt is involved. Unless you’re forced to diverge from ‘the path of least resistance’, as your scientists so eloquently put it. You may think you’re driven by a positive force. Love trumps Hate, right? Well, I’m here to prove you wrong.

Every time you’ve seemingly acted from the Good in your heart, your body is simply reacting to the Hurt it knows you’ll feel when your happiness is taken away. You’ll be nice to someone, not because you’re a good person, but because you don’t want to feel the pain of them being mean back to you.

I know what you’re thinking, and this isn’t just me being a cynic. I never was. Not even when I was alive on your Earth. At least, not mostly. But I can still tell you with absolute certainty, that Hurt fuels your world, makes your trees grow, carries you to work in the morning, and home in the evening. You may still not believe me, but I will convince you. Can you tell me, in all honesty, that it’s Happiness that makes you do what you do? Or is it the wish to no longer Hurt?

Right now, you’re probably thinking over every important decision in your life and wondering if it really was for a positive reason. Even you philanthropists out there. Giving to charity makes people feel good. You do it because it makes you feel good, to make yourself hurt less, or you do it to make others hurt less. Either way, even your most charitable men; or should I say, especially your most charitable men, are fuelled by Hurt. It is how it is.

PART 1

Never in my not-life.

WHO AM I?

Who are you?

Now, I won’t tell you exactly how long ago I wrote that first chapter, however, I will now tell you what this book is really about. It’s about a girl. It’s that simple. You want to know what she did?

She changed my mind.

Hundreds of years I believed the world was fuelled by Hurt and Hatred, but I’m writing this novel now to assure you it’s not, and to tell you exactly how this revelation of mine came about.

There is a reason for my telling this now, and not, say, fifty years ago, or fifty hence. That reason is your world. I admit, it’s always been somewhat like this. Someone is always in charge, and that someone always hates certain groups of people, and then a bunch of other people start to hate that certain group of people. Then you fight for a while. Then things go back to normal, with another someone in charge, who hates another group of people.

That’s how it is.

It’s how it was for me.

Oh. Me.

You don’t know who I am. Do you?

Except for the simple fact that you do.

Everyone does. Well, anyone old enough to comprehend me.

Some of you even claim to have seen me. And I hesitate to say some of you have. Some of you have looked me straight in the eyes and begged me; mostly to stay, sometimes to leave. Sometimes to take you with me.

I don’t think you have a name for me, but I’m the closest thing you have to Death, or the Grim Reaper. Such a colourful language is yours. This all sounds very dramatic, I know, but true nonetheless.

And noteworthy, might I add. For, now, you may start to see the true weight of what that girl did to me in changing my mind.

A SIMPLE FACT

Jocelyn didn’t have a surname.

And she didn’t want one. Not many people like their names exactly how they are, but Jocelyn was quite content with hers. She didn’t like the finality that came with having a surname, because she couldn’t change it as and when she pleased. As it stood, she could ask someone to call her Joyce or Jo or Lynn, and claim it to be her nickname, and she liked it that way, assuming different identities for each name.

As Joyce, she was a schoolgirl from the South who would buckle up her Mary Janes and braid her hair into pigtails before leaving her family’s three-bedroom house, and heading to catch the school bus, which arrived promptly at eight in the morning every morning and deposited her in the same place at four in the afternoon every afternoon. She’d never miss a day of school and she’d always be top of her class and have the prettiest stationary, and the neatest class notes.

As Jo, she was an athlete. She would have her hair tucked up to the nape of her neck so it could be short and wouldn’t get in her way as she ran laps of the track and practised her long jump. Her sweat-soaked shorts and t-shirt would stick to her body as she ran through the crowds after winning the finals of the sprint.

As Lynn, she was a businesswoman, with her hair up in a sleek bun at the back of her head, and a pencil skirt, like she’d seen some women wearing. A blazer, too. She’d walk around all prim and proper in her best attire, on her way to her boss’s office for a meeting, where she’d hope for a promotion.

She didn’t like to be Jocelyn.

Jocelyn was the little girl whose parents never came home from the supermarket. She didn’t know if they’d ever made it to the supermarket. I’ll tell you now that they had. I picked them up on their way home.

As humans are expected to do, especially the young ones, she didn’t react well to the news that her only remaining family wouldn’t be coming home. And she ran. And as of yet, no one had found her. Again, I’ll tell you now, no one ever would, or at least, not anyone who was actually looking for her.

#creative writing #aspiring writer #writers block #fiction #bibliophile #booklover #bookworm #bookblog #book photography #reading #wip #publishing #amwriting #Author

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