#so first name bean last name nary it is

[beannary]

instead of thinking of you in my head with your username or just bean or something every time you post now i’m like ‘ah! looks like first name bean last name nary posted’ cos you phrased it that way once or so and now that is the only way my brain registers you it is so fun

That is actually my full legal name and everyone must refer to me as such

[creativecarnagestudio]

Ah shoot- MOOOOOM I SPILT SAME AS IT NAVER WAS ALL OVER MY ROTTMNT!!! hehehe >:3

This was kind of inspired by this post by the amazing First Name Bean Last Name Nary over here -> @beannary

This one was really fun to work on, but it took me so much longer because my EDS has been actin' up and won't let me draw for more than a few minutes at a time.

Anyways I hope you all have a great day. see ya!-

[dreamcatcherjiah]

JAMAIS VU | TEASER 2

Namjoon & A-Young

Kim Moon-Jae - Two years old

He was born in September, just like his dad and Jungkook

Namjoon had wanted to become a dad so bad, he seamlessly welcomed his role and made it look easy, the way he took care of his little boy

Ever since he was a newborn, Namjoon would take him to the studio and put him to sleep in his little Moses basket while he worked 

it wasn't long before Joon discovered he liked Mono and he tended to leave his phone next to his song with the playlist playing while he worked on something else

Jungkook dotes on the boy 

literally won’t put him down

from the day he was born, JK would just look at him while he slept with his big doe eyes, he sometimes sings to the baby too

Moon-Jae is a very calm baby, even in his terrible twos

he’s happy with just sitting with his toys and looking at his mom while she moves around the house

he started babbling when he was barely six months old

when he said his first word, A-Young was busy with Jimin and Tae’s sons and he screamed EOMMA at the top of his little lungs

we could say he is a bit of a mom and dad boy

he loves laying in Namjoon’s chest while he reads his bedtime story

(most of the time they both fall asleep together and A-Young finds them in the nursery chair knocked out)

He’s the closest in age to Chimae and Sangwoo, but he’s a little jealous that his cousins can do things that he is not allowed because he’s younger

he can drink from a glass, the baby cup is for BABIES

so he just gravitates towards Nabi, Sangwoo’s older sister

Jin & Yura

Kim Yoojin & Kim Yoosun (Twins) - Seven years old

after saying time and time again that they were okay with only one child twins came along

Jin would be lying if he said he wasn't thrilled but it was scary at first

he was the first one of the seven to become a dad, to twins no less, might scare everyone

but when his baby girl Yoojin was born and, ten minutes later, he held his boy Yoosun, he just knew he would do anything for them 

they were born in the middle of August, much to Yura’s relief, if she had had to carry them for longer she would have cried

the boys loved how, since it was so hot that summer, Jin had them in their crib in diapers

Yoongi adored looking at them cuddle together and caress their little arms and tummies 

he loved their smooth baby skin

as they grew up, Yoosun became a really bright bean, a people’s little person while his sister became more like her mom, calm and with very intelligent eyes

they both love their parents equally but each one gravitates towards either Jin (Yoojin) or Yura (Yoosun)

since they’re the oldest of the bangtan babies, they like to take care of their small cousins

in their seven years of life, they have spent a total of a week apart and they don't want to try that again

like EVER

NEVER EVER AGAIN

Yoongi & Hyejin

Min Ara - Six months old

Yoongi and Hyejin waited a few years to try for a baby after they got married

then baby Are came along 

when they told the boys and their families they were pregnant a lot of people cried 

they had seen how deeply Yoongi loved all his nephews and nieces, how his face filled with adoration when he held them

they respected his and Hyejin’s wish to wait to start a family, but everyone wanted him to become a father deep down

Ara was born in January and his uncles Jimin, Hoseok and Namjoon, who only had boys, bought her the pinkiest fluffiest coats they could find

for a couple of months, the baby looked like she was drowning in pink furs 

now that she’s six months old, she sleeps through the night and she is just at that age where she doesn't understand when she has a sleepover with her cousins

Jin absolutely adores Ara

after his little-not-so-little Yoojin, Ara is the apple of his eye, and it is strange the day he doesn't visit Genius Lab too see his little niece

either that or he calls Hyejin non-stop when they have a schedule to coo at the baby

you would think Namjoon is not allowed to hold the baby, but nothing further from the truth

Yoongi trust him with his life when it comes to his daughter 

the first time she smiled, Joon was holding her to his chest and moving her little hand to say hi to her dad

Yoongi cried a little that day

Hoseok & Haneul

Jung Hyuk-Jae - Four years old

are we even surprised this boy is the happiest little boy on earth

he was born in November, a year after his parents got married

he was the first boy to be born after Yoosun and his cousin was so happy to finally be a hyung 

his eyes were always open, inquisitive and taking everything in the world in 

his mom loved strapping him to her chest and dance around the house while the two were alone, the baby moving his little legs and waving his little fists around

Hoseok would return home most days to a similar picture, feeling energised after a long day only by looking at them

Hyuk-Jae can't fall asleep without his parents caressing his chest and arms

(are we reminded of someone else)

when he feels tired, he nests into Hoseok’s chest and caresses his lips with his little finger, that’s how his dad knows he’s ready for bed

he loves drawing with his cousins, and loves teaching Moon-Jae all the letters that he has learnt in kindergarten 

when he grows up he wants Uncle Yoongi to show him how to make music and become a rapper just like his dad

when he comes from kinder, he doesn't let go of his mom for a little while, needing to spend a little quiet time so he’s ready to play with his dad when he comes home

Jimin & Kae-Hwa

Park Chimae - Three years old 

Chimae was born two weeks before Sangwoo, Tae’s son, in May

their wives tease them constantly about this, asking if they were so sneaky they planned to have children at the same time so they could be vmin 2.0

they deny it (even if they were so happy when they told each other they were having babies at the same time oooops)

Chimae is the sweetest little boy

he is just like his dad, all fluffy cheeks, smily eyes and the happiest giggle in the world

even if him and Sangwoo are not blood brothers, Jin likes to tease their fathers telling them that the babies are even closer than his twins

good luck separating them, boys

Chim ADORES his parents and his uncle Joon, always gravitating to them in a loud room, seeking comfort and warmth to cuddle

oh yeah, he’s a cuddle bug, doing that little thing, rubbing his cheek against his uncle Joon’s chest and nesting against him

he loves falling asleep between his mom and dad, holding one of their fingers in each tiny fist and feeling them close 

his mom loves to buy diminutive versions of Jimin’s outfits to have Chim dress like him 

they would both enter the studio hand in hand, sporting identical Chanel jumpers, jeans and Gucci sunglasses and no one would bat an eyelid

the poor thing has two left feet, but that doesn't stop him copying his dad’s moves to the best of his abilities

Taehyung & Iseul

Kim Nabi - Five years old

now, when Tae said he wanted a big family he wasn't joking 

he and his wife were pregnant within a month of their wedding 

Nabi was born in February, a few days after her uncle Hobi, which guaranteed huge birthday parties when she got old enough

she wanted a princesses-themed birthday party, uncle Hobi got her the dresses and was the first one there, dressed as Elsa from Frozen

she was a fussy baby, which didn't sit well with her mom, but her dad was there at all times

his insomnia actually got better once he matched his sleeping schedule with his baby’s

in a good night she would wake up maybe a couple of times, and there was Tae, bottle at the ready, singing lullabies for his little girl in his deep voice

in a bad night, well, let’s just say Tae was used to functioning on little to no sleep

even if she is the closest with Yoojin, her best friend is her cousin Nari

she insists it was fate (not her mom’s intentional choosing) that their names match so well

she has always had a soft spot for Moon-Jae and you can often find them both playing together when Chimae and Sangwoo run off somewhere to stir trouble

Kim Sangwoo - Three years old

two years after Nabi was born, just when she was starting to pick up a normal sleeping schedule, Iseul found out she was pregnant with Sangwoo

she was expecting another difficult baby and she couldn't be happier to have been wrong (at the beginning, lol)

he was quiet and happy

he loved just lying there between his sister and Chimae, babbling away 

The two boys seemed stuck at the hip, if you so much as lifted one to change his diaper, the other would scream his little lungs out

then he started crawling and OH BOY

he found out that he could see Chimae from his dad phone in the screen so he started sneakily trying to find it to call his best friend... he was only eighteen months old

where Chimae was calm, Sangwoo compensated being an active little firecracker

if you wanted to know where the two were, you just had to wait until Chimae pulled your jean leg because he thought Sangwoo was doing something dangerous

most times those dangerous things were stealing cookies from the kitchen cabinet, but our Chimae here is an innocent little angel

Jungkook & Mi-Hi

Jeon Jina - newborn

Jungkook and Mi-Hi were still young when they got married, so it made sense to wait 

besides, if an occasional burst of baby fever struck, either one of them could just call any of the other parents and offer to babysit

it stayed like that for almost six years, both Kookie and Mi-Hi being the fun aunt and uncle who bought the children candy, took them on fun rides to the park or to the beach

they were each child’s first time on Disneyland

well, it lasted until Namjoon and A-Young had Moon-Jae

Jungkook went mental for the child, he wouldn't know how to explain what went through him, but he just couldn't put the baby down

he loved all his nieces and nephews equally, but just looking at his hyung’s baby moon...

he would come home only talking about babies, showing Mi-Hi the countless pictures he had taken of Moon-Jae

she would sense that characteristic baby smell in his clothes when she hugged him

it reached a point when both of them sat down and admitted to each other how badly they wanted to start a family

it took them a while, but after nearly a year and a half, they were happily announcing they were expecting a little girl

Jina, being the youngest of the family, has everyone wrapped around her little finger

it would be difficult to tell which of her uncles is more whipped for her, Hoseok going so far as to admitting to JK that after spending so much time with the little girl, he wanted to talk to Haneul about trying for a girl

it is still way too soon to tell who she takes after, but what’s for sure is that she got her dad’s doe eyes

Permanent taglist: @preciouschimine​ @forget-me-notforever​ @annywaa​ @alpacaparkaseok @bangtan-madi 

[amateur-author597]

SERIOUS RISE OF THE TITANS SPOILERS

BUT I NEED TO RANT

SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT I PROMISE

I STARTED ROTT TEN MINUTES AFTER IT CAME OUT AT 5:01 PM AEST AND FINISHED ROTT AT ROUGHLY 10 TO 7

I FINISHED THE MOVIE AND SAW 8 SPOILER POSTS WITHIN 2 MINUTES ON TUMBLR

PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF OTHERS AND PUT ALL SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR YOUR POSTS AND TAG THEM PROPERLY

FIRST OFF

Everyone who said Blinky would die because of"and blinky" in the trailer

Fuck you

It was very fair but still I was so scared

Same to if those who said Archie died because he wasn't in the trailer

Again fair but I was terrified and anxious as hell

My heart could not have handled if he died or Douxie's grief but I'm still upset about what actually happened

And I wish Zoe showed up so they could give her some characterization

We find out she's known Douxie and been friends with him for over 900 years but she doesn't help with the Arcane Order?

And none of the hedge witches show up to help fight them to defend their home?!?!?!

SECOND!!! THE TRAIN SCENE!!!

YES

LOVED IT

GREAT

Jim you stupid string bean, I love you though

Claire, good job, that was some hard magic

Toby, go duke!

Douxie my husband, YAAASS QUEEN, GET IT BABY

The Police Station

It was so funny

Everything about it I loved

Douxari confusing the officers and being neutrally chaotic

Claire trying to be tough and silent

Toby spilling ALL the tea and the officers not believing him

Archie just being Archie and enjoying the confusion of the humans

KREL SHOWING UP WITH RICKY AND LUCY

YES

OMFG

Keep casually listing just about every spy agency in order

and then just

"And your mum"

What a legend

Literal King 👑

Honestly

Walter and Barbara

Them being engaged and happy

Y E S

Jim being best man

Y E S

Walter DYING before they could get married

N O

H E L L N O

ELI GREW UP!!!!!

MPREG STEVE

Very unpopular opinion

I loved it, so fucking funny

I don't even like mpreg normally

But I loved it as a random side plot cause they probably couldn't find an import part for every character and still give them their deserved screen time

Also, funny!

Krel was way too smug explaining to Steve that he would be pregnant, not Aja

You know how we as a fandom have all decided Krel is Aro/Ace icon or at least Aro spec and/or grey ace (something like that) I have no problem with this and love it, it makes me feel very validated, but what Krel just doesn't want kids and decided it's easier to not have romantic relationships, that's also a legitimate thing a lot of woman do

Does that mean gay guys can have biological kids on Akiridion 5?

BACK TO STEVE

I wish there was a bit where Steve called Lawrence on the phone calling him "dad" or "coach dad" and being like "Hey, I know you're probably busy, you're at school but I'm seriously freaking out and I need your help or advice" and explaining the whole Akiridion pregnancy and Coach just reassuring him gently and telling him that he and Steve's mum would support him and he wasn't alone and they weren't mad at him.

Douxie figuring out the sigil

Good job baby! Smart boy! I am very proud

You very smart

The Order bringing the Titans with Nari mind controlled

😬

That's all

Numora dying

Why! It's was so unnecessary!

I don't necessarily love her by any means

But still!

Dndndbebhsvehehrdidjbdisbeurbvtisjbsgsneosbsyneyjsosnsjdbdynsvsidbfindbzhndhdushdhushdbudhnm

*key spams in frustration*

This began much irritation that just increased

THE BRIDGE

ARCHIE LEFT DOUXIE HIS LONG LIFE FRIEND AND PLATONIC SOULMATE (NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME THAT NOT JOW FAMILIARS WORK IDC)

YES HE WAS STAYING WITH HIS DAD AND I RESPECT THAT

BUT GODDAMN IT CHARLIE

CHARLEMAGNE COULD HAVE JUST LIT THE TROLLS FOLLOWING THEM ON FIRE AND THEN FLOWN OUT

THE PORTAL WOULD HAVE CLOSED AT THE SAME TIME

OR THEY COULD HAVE FREED THE TROLLS

EITHER WAY

THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN OUT

WTF HAPPENED THE WHOLE FOUND FAMILY THING THEH WERE PUSHING IN WIZARDS

WHY PUSH A GRIEVING DOUXIE TO ESSENTIALLY GET OVER IT AND ACCEPT ARCHIE AS HIS FAMILY CUZ HE WAS ALWAYS THERE JUST TO GET RID OF ARCHIE ANYWAY

DOUXIE WOULD HAVE NEVER SEEN HIM AGAIN

HE WOULD HAVE JUST SEEN "TELL DOUXIE I SAID GOODBYE" IN THE KRONOSPHERE AS HIS LAST MEMORY OF HIM

*INCREASING FRUSTRATION*

"No More Running"DOUXIE ALMOST DIED BRINGING NARI BACK

I KNEW HE WOULDNT DIE BUT I WAS STILL SCARED

I was sad

NARI AND SKRAEL'S BATTLE WAS PERFECT

CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE I WAS NOT PLEASED WITH NARI DYING

NOR DOUXIE BEING HELD BACK ONCE AGAIN FROM SAVING A LOVED ONE

"Nor more running"

Simple line

Sweet

Shattered me and my very being THE SWITCHING SPELL

AMAZING.YES.ILOVEDIT.

DOUXIE YOU SMART BRILLIANT BOY I AM SO FUCKING PROUD

Douxari was so chaotic and funny and pure in a very weird way

I was sad that THAT screenshot of Douxie and Archie wasn't actually Archie because he looked so happy chddling his familiar but it was still cute

Narxie was so fucking sarcastic when the Arcane Order realized the spell didn't work and I live for it

Walter and Barbara

Them being engaged and happy

Y E S

Jim being best man

Y E S

Walter DYING before they could get married

N O

H E L L N O

ELI GREW UP!!!!!

MPREG STEVE

I loved it, so fucking funny

Krel was way too smug explaining to Steve that he would be pregnant, not Aja

You know how we as a fandom have all decided Krel is Aro/Ace icon or at least Aro spec and/or grey ace (something like that) I have no problem with this and love it, it makes me feel very validated, but what Krel just doesn't want kids and decided it's easier to not have romantic relationships, that's also a legitimate thing a lot of woman do

Does that mean gay guys can have biological kids on Akiridion 5?

BACK TO STEVE

I wish there was a bit where Steve called Lawrence on the phone calling him "dad" or "coach dad" and being like "Hey, I know you're probably busy, you're at school but I'm seriously freaking out and I need your help or advice" and explaining the whole Akiridion pregnancy and Coach just reassuring him gently and telling him that he and Steve's mum would support him and he wasn't alone and they weren't mad at him.

Douxie figuring out the sigil

Good job baby! Smart boy! I am very proud

You very smart

The Order bringing the Titans with Nari mind controlled

😬

That's all

Numora dying

Why! It's was so unnecessary!

Dndndbebhsve hehr didjbdisbeurbvtisjbsgsneosbsyneyjsosnsjdbdynsvsidbfindbzhndhdushdhushdbud

*key spams in frustration*

THE BRIDGE

ARCHIE LEFT DOUXIE HIS LONG LIFE FRIEND AND PLATONIC SOULMATE (NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME THAT NOT JOW FAMILIARS WORK IDC)

YES HE WAS STAYING WITH HIS DAD AND I RESPECT THAT

BUT GODDAMN IT CHARLIE

CHARLEMAGNE COULD HAVE JUST LIT THE TROLLS FOLLOWING THEM ON FIRE AND THEN FLOWN OUT

THE PORTAL WOULD HAVE CLOSED AT THE SAME TIME

OR THEY COULD HAVE FREED THE TROLLS

EITHER WAY

THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN OUT

Titan Nari

I was so scared when Douxie nearly passes out from lack of oxygen trying to save her

Claire did a great job and I like her but I feel like they're overpowering her without developing her

Nari and Skrael's battle was a cinematic masterpiece

Coach Lawrence seriously needs a break

NARI DYING WAS UNACCEPTABLE

DOUXIE BEING HELD BACK FROM HELPING HER WAS UNACCEPTABLE

"No more running" destroyed me

I AM STILL NOT OK

I DON'T THINK I EVER WILL BE

The 9th configuration

FOUND. FAMILY. CENTRAL.

I'M THE CHOSEN ONE BUT I CAN'T DO IT ALONE

YES

The Final Battle

I don't even know what to say

Aja. QUEEN.

RIP Varvatos

Rip Douxie that fall would have really fucking hurt

He definitely had broken ribs from that

I'm surprised he could walk after even while being supported against someone else to stand

Jim should have just stabbed Bellroc instead of talking

Jim should not have been able to walk and run perfectly fine after being stabbed even with all the adrenaline

Toby WTF MAN

GOOD JOB BUT FUCKING HELL

I LEGIT CAN'T EVEN FIGURE OUT HOW IT HAPPENED

THE MOVIE CAME OUT 4 DAYS AGO (IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE THE RANT DONT JUDGE) AND I'VE WATCHED IT 5 TIMES AND I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED IT EACH TIME

HOW DID TOBY CRASH?!?!

ANYWAY

TOBY DYING WAS NOT ACCEPTABLE

JIM SCREAMING OUT HIS NAME AS SOON AS HE REALIZED TOBY WASNT THERE

BLINKY AND ARGH LOOK OF PANIC AND WORRY CUZ THEY REALIZED TOBY DIDNT COME BACK WITH JIM

DOUXIE REALIZING HE FAILED TO PROTECT SOMEONE ELSE IMPORTANT TO HIM (EVEN IF HE DOESNT HAVE MUCH OF AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP WITH TOBY, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE HE DIDN'T ADOPT THEM ALL AS HIS YOUNGER SIBLINGS)

"Always was, always will be" hurt my entire soul

The Time stone

This frustrated me so much it took me 3 days to write just this bit

Go back in time and save everyone?

Yes! Awesome!

Go back to the start the start

No

Also, I love and adore Toby

BUT IT MAKES NO SENSE

JIM GIVING THE AMULET AND RESPONSIBILITIES AWAY WHEN HE HAS 2 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE AND KNOWS ALL OF HIS MISTAKES AND HOW TO FIX THEM

WTF

AS I SAID I LOVE TOBY AND I LIKE HIM ACHIEVING STUFF

BUT HES NOT TREATED AS BADLY AS THE FANDOM ACTS LIKE HE IS

AND LOGICALLY JIM MADE A STUPID DECISION CONSIDERING WHAT HE KNOWS

I get that he was tired of being the trollhunter

Largely because he was tired of not thinking he would do a good enough job

But odds are Toby will make some of the same mistakes and they'll be right back in that same position except maybe Claire will die that time around

And if you're sick of the trauma and responsibility of it than why would you dump it on your best friend

Once again I say, it was an illogical and dumb decision

I WILL BE RUNNING TO FANFICTIONS TO ESCAPE THIS CANON

[docholligay]

An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave I-- Morrison’s Ghost

All thanks for the sponsorship to @keyofjetwolf. 4,500 words 

Jack Morrison was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. HIs death was registered in both the United Kingdom and the United States, and his small pittance of a savings account and a life given over to a quick signature. Jack Morrison was as dead as a door-nail. 

Wilhelm Reinhardt was dead, to begin with. Died that same grey and cloudy day in a pile of rubble. His coffin, sent to the Lindholm family plot in Sweden, with nary a stir from the occupant, and buried there, a name carved in stone, dead as the man below it. 

Lena Oxton was dead, to begin with, though her grave had not yet even sunk into the ground, dirt still piled high over the top of it, but please know that it was no less sure, that she was dead. Angela Zeigler had pronounced her herself, and while a bit harried, these last months, she was never one to miss a heartbeat. 

No, all of them were dead, when our story begins. 

Did Ana know they were dead? Of course she did! Ana was Jack’s partner and roommate and perhaps sole great friend in this earth, and Reinhardt was her sometimes companion and always admirer, and the silence of Tracer ever missing from a room was impossible to ignore. She saw their pictures hung in the Overwatch headquarters, having given their lives in the pursuit of making the world they occupied a better one. 

Besides all that, she was no great fool in matters of the mind, however you might find her in matters of the heart, once I allow the tale to truly begin. 

And so, you might say, why all the preamble? Why not let the story speak for itself? Well, I tell you this, because if you do not remember that our assembled parties have all taken their last breath long before this day, nothing wonderful can come of the story laid before you here. 

But enough. This is a story you know, and a story you do not know, and like all stories known and unknown it begins with a hero, or perhaps a villain, or, in the best stories of all, simply a main character, with affiliation to good and evil fleeting and half-decided. 

So brings us to Ana Amari. 

There are people, in this world, immediately assured of their own correctness, and Ana was one of them. This is not to say that she thought of herself as having done everything in the most perfect way possible, or that there had never been something that might have gone differently, given different choices, but simply that she had nothing on this earth for which to apologize. Ana was a child of revolution and struggle, and it was well known that all people did what they had to do, and she had always and ever done that. 

Ana was a genius in some respects, as most of us are, and a particular point of her genius was her ability to justify everything she had ever done as being rooted in a good idea, an impossible choice only she was willing to make, and her skill in deciding others were simply looking for someone to blame.She had changed, she reasoned, in the way many people who fail to see the original problem do. The balance of power no longer held her, and her child was grown, and these changed circumstances allowed her to believe that it was a changed self. 

Ana moved through her life as if she were on trial, every conversation twisted into something that made her into a criminal. She would not be forced to speak against her own effort, and so she antagonized and snapped and refused to answer. They would not force her to admit guilt, to imprison herself. 

Only the weak did such things. 

It was a terribly chill December day, and the grey pall of a London winter cast out of the city as she moved to the cafe on her side of the Thames. She watched London always--she had never learned quite how to not pay attention to every given moment and movement--looking at the people who passed by, their clothing and manner changing as she moved through the city. 

The city was dressed up for Christmas, tinsel in windows, softly glowing lights strung up inexpertly, banners of evergreen strung over the streets as the inhabitants of the areas got richer. Happy Christmases were exchanged along the street between shopkeepers and customers, acting as if they knew or cared for each other at all. It was not a time of year Ana especially relished, not so much for the fact that she had never celebrated it herself, though she did not and would not, but for the fact that it reminded her even more keenly of a universally held truth. 

They were fragile. Londoners were mostly spoiled children who had no idea of what a harsh life might look like. The Omnics had come, those years ago, but they had not needed to rebuild a society out of the flames of the old one. They did not know what it was to have to be strong. To be firm. They were the sorts of people who let a date on a calendar upend their entire lives, pretending at all these childlike ideas. Take away some ridiculous pudding, and the whole of society might collapse. 

A mother crouched down by her daughter on the sidewalk, holding her small hand and telling her that it was was very disappointing when we couldn’t get a little cake to take home, she understood. 

Ana chuffed and shook her head as she walked by, her mental point proven. This was how children were prepared for the world to listen, to give them what they wanted. To hide from them the fact that sacrifice was demanded of people who wanted any good to come of it. It was no question that the sorts of people who attempted to empathize with a four year old’s want of pastry couldn’t understand Ana. 

In some ways, she found comfort in this. If people accustomed to the plush robes of a gentle life could not understand her, it was merely that they did not understand the sort of things that needed to be done. She almost could not fault them, though she certainly found occasion to do so anyhow. Sheep do not understand the sheepdog.  People like her were made to protect the world for people who did not have the strength to be like her, to do difficult things.

The cafe was a simple affair with a black awning, and in summers, Ana imagined there must be plenty of seating on the sidewalk in summer, but now there were only a few small tables crowded into the place, covered in a red gingham plastic. Black and white photography covered the walls, every square inch devoted to a memory that was certainly somewhat different from the lived experience of it. It smelled of bacon and beans and eggs, and it didn’t make much sense for Ana to be there, but the coffee was some of the most competent she’d found, the prices were right, and the English insistence on beans at breakfast was one of the few sensible things about them, this place preparing them with a bit of cheddar, if lacking much else by way of seasoning. They had a ready selection of newspapers, it was at nearly the halfway point between her apartment and her work, and she was accustomed to her little spot in the corner. 

Today, there was somebody in it. Not a tourist, but perhaps worse. A blonde woman with a round, almost dollish face, and bright blue eyes, a cozy pink sweater wrapping her like a blanket. 

Ana found sentimentality a crime, regret a worse one, and found weakness in softness. For these reasons, Ana Amari had never particularly bonded with Mercy, who had encompassed all of these things from the first time Ana had met her. She was a brilliant doctor, and few people could reasonably say otherwise. Her work was integral to the development of several new weapons. She was a private physician to Overwatch’s most complex cases. She was all of this, and Ana could admit it, but she was also the sort of person who cried in her office at times, who questioned the good of what they were doing because the means made her uncomfortable, the sort of person who let her heart overtake. Mercy was as bad as Moira, in her own way, Tracer had once struck her for saying, even if it was true. 

All of this might have been complicated enough, but then, while Ana was temporarily dead, Mercy had gone and married her daughter. 

Mercy sat looking at Ana with a small smile on her face, hands folded in her lap and what seemed to be salmon on toast in front of her. Across the table, there was a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of beans with cheese on toast. 

“I asked them what it was you were ordering every day.” Mercy nodded. “They know you very well.” 

Ana closed her eye and sighed. Mercy never knew when to leave anything alone. Which might have been fine, if she had ever bent Pharah’s ear to understanding what Ana had done was all to the good. But she seemed to constantly be needling Ana to apologize, to reach out to Pharah. When was it going to be Pharah’s responsibility to admit that she was wrong? The she had never tried to understand her mother? 

“Do I look like I need you to buy me breakfast?” She stood, looking down at Mercy, who shook her head. 

“Ana, please. Sit?” 

“I don’t know what possibly we could share here.” But she sighed and sat down anyway. At least there was breakfast, and the order was right. “But go on.” 

Mercy nodded hopefully. “The baby is doing well, the doctor tells me,” she gave a small giggle, looking off away from Ana, “Though, I am not needing too much input, I remember my rotation and have been studying up. A new mother’s anxiety, it must be, you know how that feels.” 

Ana took a drink of her coffee. “I was running an operation to my eighth month. But then,” she shrugged, “ I was so much younger. Less to worry about.” 

She looked back to Ana a moment, and then looked down at her salmon toast. “Yes. We have....we want this very badly, so I am, more nervous.” 

Ana said nothing, simply began to eat her beans and sip at her coffee.

“Ana,” Mercy straightened her back, “I was thinking. Wondering. If you’d like to come for dinner, on Christmas.” 

Ana looked over at her with a long, flat stare. 

“Not to celebrate! But, we always, everything is closed, and, Fareeha is making a wonderful dinner, we watch movies, you would be alone, and with it almost being Fareeha’s birthday,” She leaned forward, “And the new year, there are so many changes that will be coming. I thought that, maybe, since there are so many new things--.”

Ana set down her fork with a high clink, and chuckled. “Now we get to it. What do you want?” 

“Nothing. For me. Ana, you can snap at me, and be--be dismissive of me, all you are wanting for the rest of your life, that was before Fareeha, even, but I love her--” 

“You have never understood things between me and Fareeha. You can’t.” 

“All you would need to be doing is apologizing. Things have been,” Mercy gave a little sigh, “Fareeha, I think, would forgive you, if you tried. With the baby, and with the sadness of Lena--” 

Ana chuckled. “Just because you will hold my grandchild hostage doesn’t mean I’ll apologize, Angela,” she shook her head, “I did what I had to do. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. Just because Fareeha refuses to understand, does not, even for a minute, mean I will bend my knee to--” 

Mercy stood up, hands balled at her sides. “Then--then don’t! I--” she lost the words a moment, tears streaming down her face, and she wiped at them, buying her face in her hands, “I was wanting to help you, is all of it! I want to help her! I want,” She let out a sob,  and continued, very softly, “My parents are dead, Ana. For our child, I was wanting…” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “No. I will go, now. I won’t try again. You can...win, if you are thinking this is winning.” 

She stood up and smoothed the front of her skirt, puling the coat over her shoulders, tears still streaming down her face. Mercy was like this, Ana thought. She was soft, in all the ways Ana was happy she wasn’t, and she good too emotional about things, things that didn’t even really concern her. What she and Pharah had as problems, was her and Pharah’s business. 

As she moved to leave the table, dropping a few pound coins next to her coffee, she turned back, stopped, and then took one look back. 

“You, are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength, “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath, “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” 

Ana sat back in her chair, and picked up a newspaper. 

Ridiculous.

____________

Ana lived alone, now, in that tiny and dark apartment in Brixton with the two small bedrooms barely enough to be called such. It had never occurred to her to live anywhere else. The hallways were dark and dank in the best of times, but the place was cheap, and she didn’t need any kind of frills to entertain all the guests she didn’t have. 

There was a chill coming up the stairs, and Ana attributed it to the cool of the December air, wet and icy on her face, and the poor maintenance of the building. It hardly mattered. The hallway was dim and still, a lightbulb at the end of it flickering out the last of its life in some desperate Morse code Ana could not decipher. She turned to unlock the door, when her sniper’s eye caught the movement, just a little. 

She turned toward the flicker and shadow. Silence. Nothing. Of course nothing, this hallway was always quiet as the grave, small people in their small lives coming and going like mice nibbling for crumbs. Another flicker, and he was there. 

The dark shadow at the end of the hall, strong and bricked and dead for years. Darkness again.

Ana dropped her keys in the moment, and bent down to pick them up. Had she eaten today? Clearly she was seeing things, if she needed to--

She raised her head, and he was there, grey and dead and big as life, standing next to her. She did not even have the time to gasp before his mouth through open and emitted a yell of pain and agony and deep loneliness, one that cut into her spine and made her shiver. She jumped back to ready herself to fight, but another flicker and it was gone. Nothing there, just the dingy carpet that always had been. 

She took a slow breath. Another. 

“Ridiculous.” She opened the door and went into her apartment. 

It was spartan, only a few small things giving any identity to the people who had lived there at all. Ana had made few changes since Jack’s death, other than emptying out his bedroom not because she needed it so much as she wanted the memory gone. There were two pictures on the mantle. A small television. Two tea cups in the small area that passed for a kitchen. 

She was unnerved, no matter how much of a hallucination the incident in the hallway had been, and her training kicked in. She swept the place quietly, examining every space, every nook every corner for signs of life. There was nothing, nothing at all but the long shadows the light cast across the floor. 

Her shoulders relaxed. Of course there was nothing. She needed to eat something, was all, she was no longer young and could not rely upon her body in the same way she had. There was a carton of soup in the refrigerator, and she dumped it into a pot unceremoniously, stirring it until it boiled and she put it into a deep, wide mug that served as a bowl nowadays.

She turned off the unpleasant florescent overhead light, and flipped on her small lamp next to the couch, the one small bit of soft warmth in the place, something that had been her mother’s from a lifetime ago. There was a book on the table, though she likely couldn’t have told you what it was, simply something to wile away the hour while she ate her soup. 

Her only minor concession was the knife set upon the coffee table.

The night had been dark, but somehow grew darker, the shadows drawing into the room, as if night itself was being sucked into that tiny apartment that served as fortress for Ana’s personal war. Ana tried not to notice it, at first. It was silly. She was unnerved by the hallucination in the hallway, and part of that had probably been thinking about the past. It was quite natural to think of the past, when someone stalked you to your cafe and tried to wield it as a weapon. 

Then someone knocked at the door. 

She looked down at the knife, and went to grab it, and then Jack’s bedroom door started knocking too, and then her bedroom door, and the knocking continued, louder and louder and louder, echoing around her as the darkness closed into the room. 

Ana opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out. 

It stopped. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. 

Ana considered herself to be grounded and logical, as a person. She wasn’t given to flights of fancy, she didn’t see the world as she wished it were, and she knew what to believe with her own eye and her own sense of instinct. She had never doubted her senses, before. She was a creature that fully inhabited them, that required them to survive. The day she could no longer assess a situation would be the day she died. 

It nearly had been, years ago. 

But now a prickling doubt hung over her head, that she might be losing touch with those same protective senses, even in the silent darkness of her small apartment. Losing her edge. She had always assumed death would come first. It had for the rest of them. 

But there was no angel of death in the corners of this room, only the silence being broken by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The floor creaked beneath the thing she could not see, and a low groan of pain and deep sorrow came echoed off the walls. 

Ana leapt to her feet, grabbing the knife off the table and exposing the blade. 

“You picked the wrong flat for this.” She growled. “I’ve had enough for today.” 

But the room was so small, Ana could not figure where the creeping, moaning, creaking came from. She looked behind the couch, only to find nothing. Behind her bedroom door, only shadows. Jack’s room had been closed since London, and it was windowless besides. But still the footsteps, and still the creaking, and still the sense of being watched. 

A face. 

Ana jumped into action, slashing at it quickly, sticking the blade where between the ribs would be, and coming up with only shadow and smoke in her hands. The face became a body, and the body took shape, even in the dull lamplight, as real as it was spectral, shimmering in the line between life and death. 

“Who are you?!” she barked, refusing fear. 

The ghost took full form now, a familiar shape against the darkness. “When I was alive, I was your partner. I was your best friend. I was your roommate, Ana. You know me.” 

The ghost glowered and Ana cocked her head slightly. It occurred to her, briefly, that she had also once been dead, but that was a different matter entirely. It couldn’t be. Jack had died in the Battle for London, she had selected how to deal with his body herself, she had seen him taken away and she had gone home to that same empty apartment that they had shared. She knew Jack. She had known Jack for more than 30 years. Jack was dead. These things she knew. 

“Ridiculous.” she spat.  “Impossible.”

And yet, it had to be. She moved closer to him as he looked at her, shaking his head in frustration and irritation at another one of Ana’s petty arguments. He did not wear his visor now, the shattered eyes he had only let her see fully visible in the shimmer of his presence. There were chains coming from him, dragging across his back and binding him, some attached to rocks, some attached to nails, all of them heavy, and hard, and he moved slowly even as he did not stop. 

“Jack? Jack.” Even his name sounded strange in her mouth. 

She nearly reached out to touch him, and then stopped herself. “No. No,” she waved him off, “This isn’t real.” 

There were ideas that were worse than losing your edge. 

He paced around the living room slowly. “Yeah, because you’ve always been a hallucinator. Why would this be fake? You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs.” 

“I buy sushi from Tesco. There’s the reason all itself.” Ana stopped at the side table, and sipped at her tea. “I have some sort of brain tapeworm from a fish. That is all, and I will go to bed, and, that will be all of it.” 

“Ana.” He said in that tone, that tone that was too close to real, that too carefully mimicked his annoyance and affection, “Come on now.” 

Ana sat down at the edge of the couch and looked over the chair near her. “Can you sit?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I can sit.” 

Jack, for lack of another thing to call him, did so, setting himself in the chair he had occupied so many times in life. Ana herself was still unsure that she believed any of it. 

“Chains? How dramatic.” She sipped at her tea, determined to be unruffled, even as a chill hit across her back. 

“I made these chains, and I’m stuck with them. I made them every single time I set myself apart, every time I used my work as an excuse to build a wall,” he indicated to the rock near his foot, “I build this myself, link by link, with my own excuses and my own behavior.” 

Ana leaned back. “Comfortable.”

“Don’t joke, Ana. You should see the chain you’re wearing.” He shook his head. “It’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be for you.” 

Ana sat a moment, looking into her tea, considering all that she had seen, considering the things in her life that she knew were impossible and yet were somehow, still possible. This could be so many things. It could be the beginnings of some mental illness. It could be a hallucination borne out of stress or loneliness. It could be the aforementioned Tesco. But it could also be real, and if it were real, than the world at larger had it all wrong about them. 

“You did what you had to do. To save the world. We both did.” She waved a hand and scoffed. “We gave up so much for it, and then they hated us for it. We never got any reprieve.” She leaned toward him, pointing, “We made the sacrifice.” 

Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Did we? Or was it just always easier to fight?” He smiled softly. “We could have had families. We could have...built connections. The crisis ended, but we never stopped being there. We forgot how to be people, me, and you, and Gabe.” 

“I--”

“You were the most important person I had.” Jack rose to his feet. “I’m here to help you. I don’t want this to happen to you.” 

“And how, exactly,” she raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to help me, with all of my supposed problems?” 

“There will be three spirits: The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present--”

She stood up, laughing. “Why Christmas? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. I’ve never celebrated Christmas. I--” 

“It’s for narrative structure, Ana. Call them the ghosts of Last Tuesday Past, I don’t--” 

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know why we need to--” 

He shook his head again, “You will be visited by three spirits, one tonight, at midnight--” 

“I don’t have time for this, have them all come at once, so I can go back to--”

“ANA!” He howled, and raged toward her and the force of it knocked her into the wall, those empty eyes burning, burning like coals in the darkness of his own death, “I am trying to help you! Do you want to die alone? Do you want to be completely separated from every human being? You can live a long time Ana, and start to realize it’s a hell, and all you’ll do is wait, and stare, at visitors that are never coming, and birthdays you’ll never celebrate, and you’ll know,” He pointed his finger in you’re face, “You’ll know! That you put yourself there.” 

“Jack…”

He sighed heavily and plopped into the chair, his hand at his temples. ‘While I was alive, I couldn’t help you, or save you. You were so damn--we--were so damn determined to put walls around ourselves, thick ones, like we were fortresses, and keep everyone else out. And we did a good fucking job, didn’t we? You and me, side by side, shooting down anyone who tried to come over.” He removed his hand but did not look at her, “When I died, who truly mourned me? You?” he chuckled, “Maybe not even that.” 

“I did.” 

She hated herself for saying it, at first, and knowing that it was true, and then there was a second, smaller hate there, one she could not place. 

“Okay. If you say so.” He looked out the window. ‘This isn’t a discussion. You’re going to be visited, and for God’s sake Ana, please just listen. I could never get you to listen. I...that’s all the time I have. Listen.” 

He stood up and stepped toward the window as if not under his own power, drifting more than walking toward the dark London night. Ana stumbled to her feet, confused and angry and afraid, calling after him. 

“Jack? Jack, why can’t you just--Jack!” 

He faded through the window, though Ana knew it to be double tight, and she was left alone in the dark, with but one word, surrounding her and echoing off the walls. 

“Listen.”

[author-morgan]

Kryptic ↟ Deimos

thirty-two - striking bone

masterlist

But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.

Death submits to no one, not even Dread and Destruction.

They are both weapons of flesh and bone, of warm blood and beating hearts, and they cannot be controlled.

EUBOEA AND ATTIKA rise from the water on either side of the pirate trireme. Five long days leads them to an abandoned wharf near the village of Dekelia and the border of Boeotia. It is here they will dock for Lesya to depart on the next bloody leg of her journey. 

Tundareos approaches his sister at the bow of the Ippalkimon —she wanted to be left to herself after what happened in Megaris, yet it did her no good to dwell on the past and heartbreak. He could see a glint of something in her laurel eyes —a lurking danger that only surfaced during battle. Lesya is at war with herself and Enyo. She glances at Tundareos, not immediately dismissing his presence for the first time in days. Her fingers curl around the railing at the edge of the ship with a white-knuckle grip. “I have to break the Cult’s hold on him.”

He struggles with what to make of Deimos. A man in torment and fighting the same battle as Lesya, no doubt, but it’s the way Deimos looks at her when they’re together —fools in love, willing to go to the depths of Tartarus for one another. Tundareos doesn’t want to believe Deimos is beyond saving, if only for his sister’s sake, yet he cannot help but wonder. “Are you sure their claws have not struck bone?” Tundareos asks.

“If they have then I will pry them off,” she grits out, fighting back the tears pricking at her eyes. Tundareos can see it in her eyes and hear it in her unsteady but determined tone —she is ready to walk down a dark path if necessary. “I love him, Tundareos,” she breathes, and for a moment, her strength is gone, and he sees a broken girl —the same one who cried out for her brothers as the Cult stole her away from Athens. “I cannot lose him.”

A faint smile pulls his scarred lips, his blue eyes shining seas of hope and love. He cannot fault her for hunting those who had stolen her innocence and trying to save the only person in Hellas who knows what it's like to be twisted into a weapon “I know,” he tells her, gripping onto her shoulder. Tundareos skims the rocky landscape. Where Attika ends and Boeotia begins is impossible to tell, for they are both ravaged by the war. “Be careful.” She nods but will make no promise. Turning, she embraces Tundareos holding fast to him for a long moment before turning to gather her bow and a repaired hunting spear. 

The path to the central road spanning from Athens to Thebes is narrow and winding, cutting through the rocky landscape. If the weather remains fair, she should see Lake Kopais glimmering on the horizon before the next sunrise as Dekelia disappears behind a hill. At the edge of twilight, Lesya hears the thunder of hooves. Looking over her shoulder, she can make out the small party of riders bearing the sigil of Sparta. 

As they draw nearer, her grip on the spear tightens —heart pounding. “I know you,” one Spartan hoplite says, slowing his horse as a small group of soldiers approaches. The blades on her back are familiar for their ornate craftsmanship, but her copper hair unmistakable. Lesya looks up at the man, hesitant. “We fought together in Megaris,” he notes. Warring on the Megarian battlefield was not a day he was likely to forget —it was his first true fight, his first time fighting alongside a demigoddess. “Our camp isn’t far–” he points to the northwest “–you can have a hot meal and rest for the night.”

“Lead on,” she tells them, happy to accept their hospitality, for it is something she has not often experienced in her travels. 

TIMOTHEUS RUBS THE raw skin of his wrists and ankles, having broken from his bonds after days, if not weeks, of capture. Though the ropes are gone, he remains caged like a beast. The Spartans are not kind to their prisoners of war —they make sure to keep his wounds fresh and little else. He prays for rain before he thinks of freedom. Leaning back, he grabs onto his ribs with a groan —a wound not tended. Head lolling to the side, he looks into the adjacent cage. His compatriot must’ve died during the night, the heat of the day having swelled the man’s stomach —come the morrow, crows would have a feast. 

A flash of copper hair catches his eye. He’s sure his eyes are playing him for madman —he’s only known one person in all of Hellas to have copper hair. Lesya. Timotheus grips onto the bars of his cage and stares at the woman sitting amongst the circle of Spartiates at the fire sharing a meal of stewed beans and flatbread —his stomach rumbles at the thought of something other than moldy bread and rotting fruit. “Lesya?” He croaks, hoping she will have heard the faint call of her name. “Lesya,” he cries, reaching through the wooden lattice toward the fire. 

She approaches the cage and crouches down, looking the Spartan prisoner in the eyes. Beneath the blood and grime and thick beard, Lesya recognizes her brother. “Timotheus,” she breathes, laurel eyes wide. Reaching through the latticework, she grasps his trembling hands, holding them tight and steady. “What happened?” She shakes her head before he can answer. It doesn’t matter what he’d done to garner capture —he will know freedom again this night. “I’ll get you out of here.” He’s seen the glint in her eyes before when their swords first locked together in the Megarid. 

“There’s too many,” he rasps, having counted no less than a score between the hoplites and the strategos. It would take an equal number of men for any hope of defeating them. Timotheus grips onto the cage. “Let me out,” he insists, “I can help.” 

She shakes her head, in his current state, Timotheus would only get in her way. “I’ll be back,” Lesya assures him, reaching behind her to free her blades. The first fall silently, but the camp rises in alarm when the central tent catches fire. Men scream and wail, the clash of iron echoes in the night. Timotheus watches as she moves, a blur of copper and iron across the camp until none are left standing save for her. 

“See?” Lesya motions toward the now silent camp with blood spattered across her face and staining her hands, panting. She sheaths the daggers in her hands on her back with her bow after slicing through the rope holding the door of the cage. “Not too many.” Timotheus stumbles out, his face pale as he looks around. One woman against a score of Spartiates. 

Timotheus huddles close to the fire, sipping broth off the stew before dunking a piece of flatbread. Lesya’s gaze darts over him. He is a far cry from the leader she met in Megaris. A dark beard tinged with grey hangs to his chest and his hair, once close-cropped, falls before his eyes. The worst is how frail he looks, cheeks gaunt with sunken eyes from weeks of torment and malnutrition.  

“I found Tundareos,” Lesya notes, and her brother looks up from the bowl of stew, surprised to hear that name again after so long, “or rather he found me.” Even before he was named a general for Athens, he and Kalanthe assumed Tundareos dead when he left during the night with nary a word. It never sat well with either of them what Leandros had done to their sister, but little Tundareos had been the one to act. “He’s a pirate sailing under Xenia’s command.”

He huffs —a dry laugh at the thought of his brother as a pirate. “That is good to hear,” Timotheus remarks, better a pirate than rotting at the bottom of the Aegean or as a Spartan prisoner. He finishes the bowl of stew and skin of watered wine, and as he rises, the blue-and-bronze of his shield catches his eye in the firelight. Now free, he does not wish to tarry any longer —it would not be long before scouts and messengers arrived to find the bloodbath. Lesya senses his unease, bringing one of the speckled mounts from a small pen to where Timotheus stands, holding his shield and kopis.  

Timotheus tightens his grip on the horse’s reins, steadying the beast and himself as he looks between his sister and the trampled path leading from the fort. Perikles is dead, as is his duty to Athens. He has no calling in Hellas any longer save for that of protecting his family. “Come with me, sister,” he asks, though he already knows her answer by the iron resolve in her laurel gaze.

“I can’t,” Lesya says, shaking her head. “I have work to do still.” She must carry the edict from Brasidas to the commander of the Spartan forces in Boeotia —and hope none of the other Spartans will suspect her of this slaughter. “Go to the dock east of Dekelia if you wish to see Tundareos–” a fleeting smile twists her lips “–his ship is there.” Timotheus nods and spurs the horse to a quick trot, leaving his sister standing amidst the carnage she wrought upon his captors —for all the death and destruction, it feels like home. 

[taglist:  @wallsarecrumbling @novastale @fjor-ok-skadi @fucking-dip-shit @elizabethroestone @maximalblaze @balmacedapascal @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @lockonkiri]

[gold-kobold]

ok so i decided to write out every single passing thought as i watched the show, so this post turned out EXTREMELY long of literally just me screaming, here you go, take my pain, all episodes under the read more lol

Episode 1

i’ve heard merlin say douxie’s full name like five times now and i STILL cannot pronounce it lmao

i CANNOT get over archie and his beautiful cat-dragon form!!! love it (also, seeing him without his glasses for the first time was EXTREMELY disorienting asfghdgfj-) double also, i love how they’re using the arcadian monsters’ love of eating cats as bait

i’m like five minutes in and i already love douxie and archie’s relationship SO much, i would die for these absolute bros

douxie you’re yelling about magic in the middle of the street, you are SO lucky everyone in arcadia is oblivious and stupid or you’d have been caught ten times over by now-

i LOVE that i’m seeing steve and aaarrrgghh and toby right now but i’m also laughing SO hard at their conversation because i’m trying to imagine how the people who haven’t seen trollhunters/3below are gonna react to those opening lines of “it’s hard to top destroying an alien god” and “i lost my butt-stomping, ninja-space-angel girlfriend and my creepslaying partner in the same afternoon”

HOLY SHIT THE THEME SONG IS ACTUALLY AMAZING THIS TIME????

archie setting some clear boundaries with aaarrrgghh, i see... lmao

why is there a painting of a dog in a knight suit in the bookstore? is this undertale now???

“did you lead them here?” “No!” “yes we did” ok it’s official archie is my favourite so far-

“ship just got real” STEVE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

aghsgfdfjgk archie does the go-on-the-shoulder thing i LOVE THAT they’re so cute alsO I SEE CUTE ELF FAIRY GIRL PERSON IDK WHAT SHE IS BUT NARI’S ALSO SO CUTE-

i am EXTREMELY loving how toby is already hella in murder mode towards green knight binch who hurt his friend, nobody messes with jimbo bean without facing toby’s wrath y’all

“oh, i hate that lady” you and me both, toby

rest in hecking pieces galahad (i’m sure he’s fine)

ok i SWEAR, that ice person of the arcane order HAS to be an akaridion, right??? right?????????

oop, never mind, ice person has normal feet, definitely not an akaridion lol

i love how the last episode of 3below ended on steve screaming, and now the first episode of wizards continues that trend lmaooo-

bro the end credits art is SO GOOD what the heck-

well that was one hell of a start... time to binge the rest of the episodes and die!!!

Episode 2

DID LANCELOT REALLY JUST PULL THE PRINCE CHARMING HAIR FLIP FROM SHREK. IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. i am both appalled and thrilled

steve being a bi icon as usual... nice. (though i can’t tell if this reaction is just because lance looks like him or what lol)

steve i love your bi energy, i feel it in my soul, but can you stop being gay for a second, these racists boutta hang you all for having a troll friend oh my heckin god-

“thanks for always tipping, by the way” jim may not like douxie but he RESPECTS RESTAURANT STAFF LIKE THE 10/10 GOOD LAD HE IS, i love jim so much

i’m very much relating to claire’s reaction to morgana right now, but i understand that this is the past, and she technically hasn’t done All Those Horrible Things yet... still salty, though

i’ve known arthur for like two minutes and i hate him. like i get that trolls have definitely murdered his wife or something. but like. bruh i’m willing to bet cold hard cash that some humans in camelot have murdered each other at some point or another BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN 100% OF HUMANS ARE MURDERERS SO STOP USING THAT STUPID LOGIC ON TROLLS, ARTHUR

i’m not disagreeing with morgana in this episode at all but my fight-or-flight instincts are still being very much activated whenever i see her lol mostly fight

claire’s such a mood right now asgfhdfj

callista has so much salt and i am living for it, because mood

steve is taking this whole time-jump thing unsurprisingly well

D U M B L E D O R K

“well, here’s to hoping this doesn’t break the time-space continuum” -douxie, the least frustrating time-travel protagonist i’ve ever seen so far

watching morgana and merlin arguing (but while they’re still friends(?)) is so unsettling in the weirdest way... this show is going to destroy me, i just know it

douxie’s face when the vault got locked. omg

i definitely don’t think lance is steve’s dad, because like... time frame, obviously. but i feel like he’s gotta be at least SOME sort of ancient ancestor? the resemblance is too uncanny

slorrs terrify me more than any nyarlagroth ever did

claire looks SO uncomfortable with morgana right now, poor girl’s still traumatized from the whole possession thing and morgana doesn’t even KNOW, this is already messing with me oh no

... is morgana missing her hand already, or is she just wearing a glove...? i feel like she woulda gone apeshit if merlin took her hand by now, and i’m pretty sure she had both hands in one of the teasers???

ARTHUR YOU ARE TAKING ENTIRELY THE WRONG MESSAGE FROM THIS CONVERSATION

oh god, you guys are ALREADY gonna mess up history??? my heart can’t take this

steve finally getting the appreciation he deserves for his rapping

“your squire seems touched in the head” b r u h

go claire go, shadow-magic all their butts-

what thE FU- GUNMAR JUST??? SAVED JIM???? EXCUSE??????? WHAT??????????

ahh, it’s just a power trip for him, that makes more sense

i am VERY unsurprised at how fast merlin caught them lol

Episode 3

“my planning is flawless” merlin you and i both know that’s not true, i’m sorry dude but you mess stuff up just like everybody else

arthur. dude. why are you like this. “hurdehur i lost my wife so let’s kill my sister too” arthur you’re a dumbass

OH MY GOD I SEE BESSIE. OR BESSIE’S ANCESTOR. BUT S T I L L

eeeuuuggghhhh i’m not sure i like the possibility of this new timeline thing. this is what i was worried about, making the plot of trollhunters and 3below irrelevant... but i wanna trust this will work out somehow while not making all the previous stuff irrelevant 

my heart is hurting for jim

and jim’s heart is just hurting, like in general lol

why is callista SUCH a massive mood every time she says anything oh my GOD-

OH MY GOD CALLISTA R U D E, NEVER MIND I GUESS-

“hug and make up and not die” is like. the ideal life goal. lol

i love how morgana’s name is just. chillin’ under arthur and gwen. lmfao, the big third wheel mood

arthur you bitch, leave cute child nari alone

STALKLINGS!!!!! also, oh nooo gwen, oh heckerdoodles

both morgana and arthur have VERY pretty eyes, it must run in the family

oooohhhhh no, they’re attacking a gumm-gumm, you IDIOTS-

BULAR HECK YEAH- i mean this is bad but yo i LOVE seeing bular again lol.

oh no you attacked gunmar’s SON oh heck he is going to get y’all’s asses, aaaAAAAAA

i’m already in so much pain you guys

OH YAY THEY’RE GOING TO OLD TROLLMARKET I’M SO EXCITED AM I GONNA SEE DICTATIOUS????

oh gosh... steve... you poor idiot omg how are you not dead yet

oh, we not in old trollmarket, we in tombro... i feel so bad for callista. :(

“he was tall for his age!” shgfdjfgkhj jim omg-

stuff is happening to jim and i CANNOT handle it, stop HURTING my BOY AAA A A AA A A A A A

uh-oh, i’ve seen THIS clip already... shadow clone jutsu time lmaooooo

steve is REALLY mvp in all these scenes lmfao

i’m liking these episodes, but this arc between morgana and claire feels a little rushed. like i get the general message and that the timeframe doesn’t allow for a lot of fleshing out, but they both seemed to trust each other a little too quickly, it makes the whole “betrayal” thing less heavy as it could be 

 “oh hey, feelings lol” callista is literally just all of us but saltier lol ... 

OH HER HAND

W H A T

WHAT JUST HAPPENED

i was JUST talking about how things didn’t feel as heavy as they should’ve and then morgana got her hand sliced off and died holy CRUD what IS THIS

BLINKYYYYYY AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH YES HERE WE GO

Episode 4

oh dang, we starting out with claire’s trauma nightmares, why must you DESTROY ME LIKE THIS, WIZARDS?????

ok i gotta say it... merlin is a simp for arthur

“that doesn’t sound like a REAL problem steve” well if you take into consideration that steve’s dad probably gave him crippling self-worth issues, then it kinda could be

this ride to the lady of the lake is making me think of that one scene from half-blood prince with all the creepy water goblins... same cave/water aesthetic

AAAAAHHHHH DICTATIOUS THERE HE IS!!!!! HE LOOKS SO CONCERNED AND ADORABLE I LOVE HIM

dwoza!!!!

dictatious is being SUSPICIOUSLY nice during this scene lmao... i’m used to him being such a petty bitch

i love seeing archie transform omgggg he’s so beautiful

i knew merlin was going to have some angst, but i was not expecting this dark turn so early asgfhfjgk (i don’t blame him for not wanting to lose douxie after seeing morgana just die though tbh)

aaarrrgghh!!! AAARRRGGHH!!!!! kick gunmar’s ass bby

i very much do not like gunmar touching my boy aaarrrgghh

evil aaarrrgghh makes me so uncomfortable. but like. in the good way. this was the intended effect, i think. lol

“open up!” *steve starts talking about his problems and the doors actually talk to him about it* - this is the best play on this joke i’ve ever seen ashfgdgjfgkh it’s literallY LIKE THAT ONE FREAKIN’ VINE-

steve is CRYING oh my GOD lmao-

that was a REALLY ghostly flashback of morgan- oH SHIT THERE WAS A GHOSTIER ONE HOLY HECK I’M SLIGHTLY SCARED OF THIS-

oh god claire i am SO SCARED FOR CLAIRE RIGHT NOW WHAT THE F UC K

oh hey morgana’s... alive???

HOLY SHIT ARE THEY TRYING TO TRAUMATIZE KIDS WITH THIS SHOW???? those soulless black eyes, the way she turned her head, it was legitimately terrifying what the HECK YOU GUYS-

this episode is feckin me up you guys

!!!!!!! my boy dictatious again!!!!! i love him so much lol (i mean i know i’ve seen this scene already but i just love these stupid galadrigals so much aggshfgdfjg)

blinky you are RUDE my dude

oooohhh, i think i’m starting to see why dic switched sides. the whole “join gunmar or die” ultimatum makes that kinda clear now sgfhdgjgdhfsgdg

NIMUE!!!!!!! she’s so tall and pretty!!!!!

nimue is literally just calling out the whole team right now lmaooo

oh yay more nightmare fuel, thanks toa nowhere near as terrifying as claire trauma visions but still

“oh hey, merl” steve p l e a s e

FIRE-BREATHING ARCHIE IS MY FAV THING

merlin, why must you constantly incur the wrath of hyperpowerful beings

scary monster lake lady has departed. godbless

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD I RECOGNIZE THAT ARM

OH MY GOD

MY SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANGOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ANGOOOORRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!

oh hey morgana’s back

A N G O R R R R R R R!!!!!!!!!!!

this is my favourite episode so far, holy shit

Episode 5

nari you’re adorable

bellroc’s voice is freakin’ dope

mmmmm not sure how i’m feeling about this turn of the morgana arc so far

but oh GOD her design is still so cool and beautiful, even i have to admit

i’m very scared for angor though

like as excited as i was to see angor i physically cringed at him touching morgana, knowing the future shit that happens

OH SHIT HERE WE GO

dammit morgana LEAVE MY CHILDREN ALONE

oh shit, there goes morgana’s hand

suuuure, so long as magic’s healing his precious SWORD, it’s toootally fine

oh shit bular’s about to die(????)

dictatious!!! :’)

dictatious and blinky’s relationship here is GREAT, the sibling energy is high lmao

BULAR LOOKS SO TIRED OF THIS CRUD ASFGHDFJGKH

poor guy omfg

are they literally about to basically treat bular like a bear fight right now??? y’all suck

toothache is a great name for steve’s axe though lol

.... rest in feckin pieces, steve

AFDSGHDJF HE’S CRYING FOR ELI OMFG- gay

claire PLEASE don’t go making assumptions about edgy knights, he’s not necessarily a morgana person just because he’s edgy my girl

aaarrrgghh and jim fighting omg i’m LOVING this (also, y’all galadrigals are being useless af lol)

“blinkous, you know how we’re both complete cowards?” “you more than me” OK BUT THIS IS LITERALLY HOW MY BROS AND I TALK TOO ASFGJDHFJ

i am still SO suspicious of dictatious right now, wtf is going on-

callista is literally the only useful troll right now lmfao

DICTATIOUS AND BLINKY YOU ABSOLUTE SCRUBS

“we’ll torture him!” BLINKY DON’T TALK ABOUT YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND LIKE THAT

omg young vendel!!!! also vendel totally ships blaaarrrgghh already

oooohhhh claire gets to fight edgy skull knight boy!!!

CLAIRE GODDAMMIT WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU IDIOT

CLAIRE I TOLD YOU THIS WAS STUPID

well... that escalated quickly

oh shit that changeling actually looks really cool???? this fight is awesome?????

DVARKSTONES YEEEESSSSSS

DVARKSTONES NOOOO-

i am REALLY loving changeling dude’s troll form though like for REAL that is an AWESOME design

past douxie you are NOT helping

merlin what part of “we have to go” do you not understand-

oh yay archie isn’t clipping through doux’s leg anymore in that one frame!

well... goodbye, cool changeling dude

arthur i still very much don’t like you

dammit angor why did you have to go and save her. i know she wasn’t evil yet but things went SO BAD SO QUICKLY

YOU BETTER APOLOGIZE TO THOSE GOOD TROLLS WHEN YOU GO BEGGING FOR HELP, YOU BITCHES

hoo boy here we go Eternal Nighting again i am DYING

merlin is a simp for arthur and gunmar is a simp for morgana no you cannot change my mind

Episode 6

yay, vendel helping jim time!!!

yeah, you better feckin’ bow to vendel, you absolute bastard

only equals when they’re serving you, huh arthur??? HUH????

every time dictatious or angor is on screen my heart soars

dictatious i love you but stop being rude to callista

!!!! blinky and aaarrrgghh time! i’m so excited (also those other trolls are absolute jerks wtf)

this is THE BEST blaaarrrgghh canon situation i’ve seen yet omgggg

i’m a sucker for developing relationships i’m sorry

oh shit callista IS deya isn’t she??? i saw theories, but i wasn’t sure if it’d actually be true or not

OH HEY IT’S DRAAL

SHUT UP DRAAL, IT’S TOTALLY GONNA BE CALLISTA

gunmar, morgana could beat your ass, don’t test her, man

this training montage is killing me jfc-

aaawww this is a sweet jlaire scene :’) date night!!!

A M U L E T  T I M E

“at least she can lend a hand eh???” DOUXIE OMFG

i actually really like how merlin and douxie’s relationship’s been developing, it’s been frustrating at times but i like how it’s going

oh callista you have NO idea what’s coming lmaooo-

DEYA TIME HELL YES

DAMMIT DRAAL THIS IS NOT THE TIME

GODDAMMIT DRAAL YOU RUINED EVERYTHING

GODFREAKINDAMMIT

i’m so upset

“these creatures will never trust me” YEAH NO SHIT ARTHUR

wait deya was the FIRST trollhunter???? book and comic canon is garbage lol

aaawwww aaarrrgghh and blinky oh my GOD they’re adorable

IT’S ABOUT TIME, ARTHUR YOU TURD

YES SHE’S DEYA, Y’ALL WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG

fuck you gunmar you binch

“today’s as good as any to die, though i never learned to read” galahad channels his inner angor

will somebody GET THAT ROCK OUTTA JIM’S CHEST ALREADY IT’S STRESSING ME OUT

i’m not ready for this war you guys

Episode 7

poor jim is having such a tough time SCREW THAT DAMN GREEN KNIGHT AND THAT DAMN ROCK

oh shit here comes the eldbitch queen-

morgana you look SO COOL but i wanna FIGHT YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE HECKER

is... is merlin gonna die???

oh wait, merlin’s tomb, i guess that’s to be expected lol

oh shit is jim gonna die??? what the HECK???? DON’T DO THIS TO ME???

sfgghgdjhfgj they made morgana REALLY creepy in these things... i love it and hate it at the same time lol

STEVE VS BULAR OMG

STEVE VS LANCELOT OH BOY

... is it bad that i didn’t realize nari was that one girl on the poster until literally seeing the frame that was on there? lol

WHAT THE FUCK???? BULAR JUST SLICED LANCELOT??? IN FRONT OF STEVE???? OH MY GOD THAT POOR KID’S SO TRAUMATIZED

that was brutal, but it also doesn’t surprise me

OH SHIT

ARCANE ORDER WHAT THE HELL YOU GUYS????

welcome to wizards, where everything sucks all the time (but in a good way)

rest in fucking pieces, pendragon family

JIM NO

OH HELL YEAH, DEYA YES

and dictatious... still hasn’t switched sides. huh.

GO DEYA GO, YOU BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL TROLL, YOU!!!!

GET BULAR’S ASS, STEVE

ASGHFDFJG OMG LADY OF THE LAKE, EVEN BETTER LMAO- just yeet bular into the void why don’t you, lmao

oh god, these poor pathetic galadrigals lmao

:D aaarrrgghh!!!! this is the best!

hhhhhh dictatious is gonna turn, isn’t he??? i’m still SO suspicious lmao

“spellcaster guitar, darling” DOUXIE OMG YOU ABSOLUTE NERD

this is a SICK battle jam though ngl

archie and douxie battling together is THE BEST THING!!!!!!

aaaaand back to the shadow realm the eldbitch queen goes... wow....

merlin get back up you old dramatic fart

i REALLY love how incredibly bi steve is for ANYBODY that can kick ass lmao

where did my coward boy dictatious go

oh my god bellroc cries lava-

GET GUNMAR’S ASS, DEYA

also i’m seeing a major lack of akaridions in this “everybody returns for the world of magic” thing

deya you’re amazing sweetie aaaaaaAAAAAA

how is lance’s face still in one piece

i know this is a kid’s show but bular LITERALLY SLICED HIS FACE

nari why are you with these assholes???

aaahhh so the book canon about dictatious was right after all

i always preferred the “he was a sympathizer/with them all along” theory, but this one probably makes more sense lol

YO IS JIM SERIOUSLY GOING TO DIE????

i DO NOT believe they would actually kill jim lol

so i guess the future still happens normally??? but nobody remembers jim at the battle???

“why don’t they ever talk about that in the history books?” “my burden to bear” oh boy looks like i’ll get my answer to that soon

Episode 8

back to the present we go!!!! i wish we had seen more angor rot, there was only like ten seconds of him :(((

OH NO, JIM D:

well, the future LOOKS normal so far...

“took you long enough” BRUH THEY WERE GONE LIKE TEN SECONDS TO YOU GUYS, CUT DOUX A BREAK

!!!!! shannon!!! be careful what you wish for girl omg

“i have magic powers!” AHSGFDJFGKHLJLK

so merlin remembers the past... i’m so confused about this

LEAVE MY CHILDREN ALONE, YOU GREEN-KNIGHT BASTARD

JIM NO WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?????

WHAT IS GOING ON WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT????? LEAVE MY JIMBO ALONE!!!!!!!!!

i love how incredibly used to the world-ending shit the arcadians are lmfao that is the BEST reaction

... will somebody please get steve out of the outhouse. please.

!!!!!! is it akaridion time???

KREL! KREL!!!!!!!

MY BEST ALIEN SON!!!!!!

zoe is doux’s wizard friend!!!! fandom also called it lol

or... is zoe an akaridion??? 

aww, poor uhl lol

oh, she’s a tech wizard!!! cool

THE GAY GIRL SHANNON KISSED IS A TECH WIZARD OMG!!!!

zoe has DEFINITELY dealt with her fair share of stupid customers

ohh, so these genesis seal things, was one of them that thing in the deep? it looks like that door that they used to get to gaylen’s core

jimbo :’(

SON of a BITCH is morgana coming back AGAIN???

GODDAMMIT YOU GUYS

i’m getting real tired of this arcane order, screw you guys

even morgana is sick of your bullshit lol

w

W H A T

ARTHUR IS THE GREEN KNIGHT????

not gonna lie i NEVER saw that coming, not in a million years

“PLEASE! YOU BOTH HAVE VALID POINTS” douxie is literally me trying to reason with fighting people jfc, big mood

“even I know it’s dumb and we’re STILL gonna go inside???” why is EVERYONE in this show SUCH a MOOD

come ON jimbo let’s GOOO don’t do this to me

GODDAMMIT ARCHIE WHYYYY

nari is so precious i love her

WIZARD DAD??? DID STEVE JUST CALL MERLIN WIZARD DAD??? WHAT

skrael’s little chuckle at steve lmfao, i died

okay, now that we’re back in the future, i don’t know if i can get behind a morgana redemption arc, but i know it’s what’s probably coming :/

i still feel bad for her, but she’s done so much extreme things of such a horrible degree

sfghdjfgkhl ARTHUR, HOE, YOU GOOD???

arthur needs to moisturize more

get their asses, merlin. i’m so tired of this arcane order

holy shit, merlin DOES die???

oh my god-

GET THEIR ASSES, DOUXIE

oh dang, good catch doux

he still gonna die though, oop-

this scene hurts, how DARE everybody toy with my emotions like this WHYYYYY

for real though the relationship between merlin and douxie was done amazingly in my opinion, even if the timeframe is a little tight, but i see what aaron meant by this being like a full-length action movie now (though obviously longer lol)

Episode 9

are we?? back in the past????

oh douxie, what are you doing...

oh, this is a flashback, i get it now

oof, my heart

omg the music here is KILLING ME you guys, my heart can’t take this

my heart is broken like the heart of avalon

ARE WE GETTING DRAGONS??? YOOOOOOOO

DRAGONS DRAGONS DRAGONS DRAGONS!!!!!!!!

shut up skrael you bitch

morgana are you ACTUALLY sad about merlin’s death when you just had a major murder boner for him at the eternal night in arcadia????

nari’s eyes are SO beautiful omg, the detail in her design is AWESOME

no jim soul :’(((

maybe jim soul????

DRAGON TIME

ooo, BIG dragon time

that is... not the face i was expecting for a dragon. but i’ll take it lol

awww, archie’s dad! :D they’re both stupid and adorable hsfgdhfjgkh

does... does morgana remember the past stuff too???? like, of claire?????

mmmm not trusting this team-up yet

GODDAMMIT CHARLIE.

oh shit, we have another “destroy the amulet” situation

JIMBO!!!!! OH NO MY SON D:

dammit morgana please don’t poke fun at claire’s trauma you gave her

AGH WHY DOES THIS SHOW HAVE TO HURT SO MUCH

archie has the same reaction to his baby pictures as i do to mine lmfao

my heart hurts for douxie :’(

OH BYE, I GUESS-

this cool blue weird room is hella aesthetic

OH, MERLIN’S SAFE HAD THE SEAL THINGIES

funky

oh shoot, arthur/morgana angst time

“i fought for magic’s freedom, not destruction” hoe you tried to kill a bunch of people AND killed a bunch of trolls don’t pull that card on me-

i’m still slightly sad about this though

ADSFGHDJFGKHL THEIR REACTION TO MORGANA LMAO-

yet ANOTHER episode ending on steve screaming, omfg i’m dying here you guys, i am a simple lady and that dumb scream cut-off makes me chortle like an idiot

Episode 10 (LAST ONE!!!)

gettin’ REAL TIRED of these arcane bastards

ALIEN KREL TIME YAYYY!!!!!

WHAT, WE MISSED THE AWESOME MAGIC FIGHT??? AWWW

of COURSE krel got his ass beat lmao

krel you are NOT helping-

are we boutta pull more time shenanigans??? i’m scared

“she’d leave any of you for dead if it meant her freedom” i don’t know if i should be annoyed or excited that i have a line EXTREMELY similar to this in htfas... different context though, obvs

not liking bellroc’s voice so much anymore

shut up skrael i wanna fight you

... uh. doux. what you doin. i’m. i’m scared.

DOUXIE YOU ABSOLUTE NERD

hisirdoux casperan!!!! we finally got a full name!!!!!!!!!!!

AHAHAHA USING TIME LOOPS AGAINST THE ENEMY OMG

that is GENIUS

“sorcerers give me heartburn” GATTO WHAT OTHER SORCERERS HAVE YOU EATEN MY DUDE

a+ for effort steve. lol

we got aaarrrgghh and jim fighting again, like at killahead... except it hurts more now :’(

GO DOUXIE GO HECK YEAH!!!!

mmmmmmstill not sure how i’m feeling about the morgana thing. i’ll never forgive her for the angor stuff, i’m sorry

“neither of us can escape gravity!” excuse me morgana but yOU CAN FLY FAM

adfgsdhjf they almost got eaten by a nyarlagroth omggg

ah crud, those arcane jerks are back YET AGAIN UUUGGGHHH

did douxie just call the arcane order BUTTSNACKS

iconic

oooooh, purple-eyed claire!!! very cool!

claire using beautiful magic powers gives me LIFE

oh shit, there goes morgana AGAIN

she must be getting real sick of dying at this point lol

i’m kinda sad toby has gotten swept under the rug yet again for another series

GOD, THIS MUSIC

SO good

JIM PROTECTED CLAIRE FROM THE BLAST AAAHHH

FINALLY GOT OUR FREAKIN BOY BACK

WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY ACTUALLY JUST KILL JIM???

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

oh nvm he’s fine

wh

WHAT

he’s human again???

uuhhh

hmm

well that’s something i know is gonna be a topic of... possible disagreement in the fandom. lol

i’m not sure how i feel about that either...

rip douxie you shall be missed lol

this scene with doux and merlin is great

i really love that toa just. lets its male characters cry all the time. LET BOYS CRY, THEY DESERVE IT

ooo i like morgana’s death dress a lot. damn girl where do you get your afterlife clothes???

DID MERLIN JUST PEACE TF OUT WITH THE PUNK ROCK SYMBOL OMFG

archie is adorable i’m going to cry

i’m still VERY VERY unsure how to feel about the human jim thing. uuuhhh i’ll comment on that after some more thought, i think

JIM YOU ARE DEFINITELY STILL THE TROLLHUNTER YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAN DON’T YOU DARE DOUBT THAT

DOUXIE IS ABSOLUTELY RIGHT

this music keeps absolutely murdering me every time it plays oh my GOODNESS

nari’s human clothes look SO cute *sobs* why is she so cute

i want to fight these arcane order jerks so bad come ON YOU JERKS

okay... wow. that was... a lot.

i need some processing time. (and a pee break)

i’ll try to collect my thoughts soon but god knows they won’t be coherent lmaooo

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Overgrown Metal 

Series Summary -  Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the veil with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after laying waste to nearly everything in their wake. Now eight paths cross to right the wrongs on both ends, working to uncover secrets that would have rather stayed hidden

Chapter 1 - A Distant Roar

"Long ago, humans existed as a thriving race, full of hope and promise. Their faith was strong, the resulting bond stronger and technology was accelerating towards a prosperous future.

It was a time when the tales of fae were still passed down as children's stories, and warnings were scoffed off as superstitions. Humans as a race believed the shadows of the night hid nothing and when dawn painted the sky whatever evil that may have lurked in the darkness was wiped away as cleanly as the shores by the waves of the ocean.

With that mindset adopted, when the calamity fell we thought only that the autonomous monstrosities were an advanced technology from an enemy country, meant to start another world war to wipe out whatever they could. When reports poured in from around the world, tin hats began screaming of aliens, and the churches filled with the cries of righteous damnation. No matter which reason you picked, it was almost a guarantee you would be wiped off the map given enough time. The creatures were gleaming gold and silver, blinding those who dared look too closely, deafening those who listened too carefully. Heavy as they seemed in their armor of metal they stayed light on their feet, crawling their way up from the earth, bounding through cities from the deep forest growth and swooping down from the unassuming sky.

It was over in mere days, cities laid to waste by the metallic creatures of an unknown origin, plains made unsafe from their territorial prowl; even the sky offered no escape as planes were clawed from the sky and set reeling into the maws of the swiftly growing forests. Trees unnaturally twisted to form barriers of wooden steel, the ruined cities overtaken by growth that should have grown in centuries rather than weeks, wide expanses of fields left unwalkable by twisting vines meant to trap and muffle. And over all of that the protective beasts walked their territories urged on my a master unnamed; following the bidding of a race none knew existed until the foolish humans decided it was safe to venture out again.

The fae, fairies, demons, creatures of another realm; this race went by many names bug the fact remained they were here to take back what was theirs. Too long, their leader said, have we cowered in the cover of your industrial hell. No more shall we hide in fear of your smoke smeared air that kills the very people who make it. We have been here long before your kind, and so shall we remain long after. Group your people however you like. Send any weapon of your choice to try and turn the tides to your favor. We will reign over the ashes you crumble to.

What this race of unnatural being didn't count on was a Hero of Ages to rise in a cliche of a fairytale epic. He stood tall over the bones they crushed his brethren too, sword dripping with vengeance and arms splattered with the fruits of his bloodlust. The day had come, for he, Remus, Harkened Duke of the Unseelie War, had clawed his ways from the depths of hell to face-"

"Babes. I love you...so very much. But you've been monologuing for twenty minutes now and I'd hate to waste my coffee by dumping it on your head."

Shoulders dropping in a pout, Remus turned towards his husband, leaning against the counter as he watched Remy reach for his still-hot-somehow coffee while nudging a can over into a growing pile, the plastic recyclables already having been sorted and bagged some time ago. His dark hair hung low over his tired eyes but Remus could still see the spark of amusement in them even as an annoyed huff left his lips. Smiling, he walked over to sit beside Remy, stretching out his legs and sweeping an entire pile of cans to the bigger pile scattering the displaced aluminum across the floor in the process. Ignoring another annoyed sigh he simply leaned his head on the others shoulder and smiled sadly.

"You never wish for something more than this?" He gestured vaguely around their small apartment they were quite lucky to have as Remy say back on his heels carefully so as not to knock his head of his shoulder.

"We're safe here." Punctuating safe with a flick to the back of the other mans head he continued. "Something more...that would mean going outside. And theres no Original Remus' Specialty coffee brew outside now is there?"

"It wouldn't take much to take the French press with us."

"It's starting to worry me how much you're bringing this up lately. I'm pretty useless," he waved his left hand around as emphasis, metal plating refracting the rooms dip lighting. "And you...are very loud. So very loud babes. We'd last a day, maybe two."

"If we had more people-"

"Which we don't. Unless we get a hunter or two stumbling in here wanting to drag a couple of inexperienced fighters along with them I don't see it happening." Putting the empty coffee mug in the sink, he turned back around to find Remus standing just behind him.

"I could fight for us."

"Very brave, but imaginary blades does not a dead beast make."

Remus swiped at the finger attempting to boop his nose, smirking lightly. "I have real blades!"

"Surgical scalpels don't count hun." Remy ducked under the strong arms attempting to pull him closer and bounded back over to his carefully sorted piles. "Now, either help me these or-"

A faint roar cut his words off suddenly, leaving him trembling from more than just the vibrations running through the floor. Remus was quick to be by his side, pulling him down and looping a protective arm around his shoulders. Squeezing his eyes shut behind the dark shades he wore even though he hadn't seen unfiltered sunlight in months he ducked his head down and moved closer into the protective embrace, tensing as another tremor reverberated through his bones. Minutes passed like hours as the couple stayed tense and alert on the floor, the beast eventually quieting, seeming to move off much to their intense relief. Dragging in a deep breath, Remy sagged against Remus, subconsciously rubbing at his left wrist and sinking further into the comfortable lap.

Gasping as he was lifted quickly, a deep blush colored his cheeks as he found himself being scooped up bridal style and twirled around before being carried through the short hall to the bedroom.

"My responsibility!" He cried out in mock desperation as he reached towards his sorted plastics and aluminum, ready to be traded later that week.

"Your plastic castles can wait until morning. It's late and we need sleep." So saying, Remus dumped his load unceremoniously onto the creaky bed and swiftly hopped in after, rolling to trap the barely struggling man under his body with a laugh.

Remy pushed at his shoulder playfully. "Who died and made you the responsible one?"

The mood sobered slightly, a look of pain flashing in the others eyes before quickly being replaced by mirth once more. Before he could offer an apology it was being swallowed effortlessly with a kiss that left him without a breath to spare one.

"Either sleep or I'm experimenting with bean strength again and make you taste test espressos until you faze into next week."

Laughing lightly, he bucked his hips just hard enough to push the other to the side so he could curl into Remus' arms for the night. "I'd rather not repeat that experiment again. I stay for your coffee, not for my stomach issues."

The mechanical beast roared in anger as its tail lashed out to the side, hoping to catch the annoying pest that had lured it out into the field. As beats went it was fairly small, resembling a feline with its lithe frame and small sharp teeth, only coming up to about 10 feet at its shoulder. Crouching down and twisting its head around it caught fleeting movement from the corner of its eye and whipped around to face it, only for the past to dart out of its sight again somewhere below it field of vision. Roaring in frustration it leaped straight into the air, turning and flexing its impressive claws hoping to smash down on whatever it was that eluded its attacks. Landing heavily, the beast took a second to recover from the rocky landing, flexing its spring loaded joints as it started to straighten.

Remus smiled and threw his leg over his husband's hip to pull him even closer, pulling off his shades before resting his chin on the soft brown locks in contentment, swirling thoughts winding down to a rare dull roar as their breaths matched and evened out for the night.

-----

A second was all the past needed to run up the length of its tail, impressive gait taking them to the beasts neck in no time at all to bring their weapon down and through the mechanical monstrosities neck, severing vital components and falling it before it got half of it last roar to rise from its throat.

The pest leaped from the beast as it fell to the side, stilling in the grassy plain with nary a twitch to make a passerby believe it was ever alive in the first place. Straightening from where they had landed, the pest sheathed the spear properly on their back and walked calmly over to the enemy, taking out a faded gray notebook as they did so.

Pushing a thick pair of glasses back up his nose, Logan looked over the creature with a passive interest before sighing and putting the notebook back in his pack. There was no use taking down data of a creature identical to one he had already slain a month prior. He knew he needed to start traveling more if he wanted more diverse data but he was loathe to leave his impromptu lab that lay hidden within woods no one dared enter. Looking around and seeing nothing more in the immediate vicinity he sighed again before adjusting the pack on his back and turning to walk back home.

There was always tomorrow.

This work is also available on AO3!

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Official Playlist

[beannary]

ok so a few weeks ago my mom had the funniest ikea moment aklsjdfhakjshdf

she had taken her car to get some repairs done only to wait there for multiple hours to be told that the repairs couldnt be done, so she started to drive home but was like i desparately need some frozen yogurt to treat myself after that ordeal, and the only place she could stop was ikea, so she goes into ikea and uh oh their little cafe place is closed so she's like ok i'll get some meatballs as a treat and then leave, but after she got meatballs she was like in a daze and she was like i need sugar NOW and so she ended up buying $100+ worth of candy from ikea before driving home

now important context, my mom does not really eat sweets so she came home and took a nap and started to feel better only to realize HOW MUCH CANDY SHE BOUGHT alksdjhflaksjhdf

luckily i do like sweets and so ive been going to town on all these treats :)

[lupusxdei-a]

self para: birds of a feather

It turned out that there was no easy way to do it. Nari could have rehearsed it all she wanted - she could have spent hours practicing in front of the mirror, imagining that the person in the reflection was not herself but the tall, strict figure of her father as he listened intently to what she had to say (as a matter of fact, she did try this at some point, but just picturing Minjoon in that mirror made her nervous), or she could have rolled over in her bed at night, going over all the appropriate and effective ways to speak with her dad, but none of it was going to prepare her for what she was supposed to tell him and what she wanted to ask him. Hi, pops, how are you doing, you see, recently I met this amazing man and he's a student, you know, and they're gonna be on a break soon so we wanted to make good of the holidays and I was thinking if we could borrow the keys to the mountain house, it's nice there and we could go ski? Make good - what was that supposed to mean? No, don't be a dumb ass, Kim Nari, that sounds...Well, it doesn't sound like something you want to say.

Hi, dad - I got some days off and I wanna take some friends up to the cabin...No. Minjoon would know she was lying, he read her like an open book. She had learned it from him, after all - the art of hoodwinking and how could a student ever fool their teacher? She needed to be honest and open about it - that was what she was supposed to do. That was what she always did with Minjoon, with Pride who loved her more than he would ever want to say out loud. And it wasn’t like she was running off to Las Vegas to elope with an angel or some other kind of nemesis of a demon. It wasn’t like she had got herself knocked up and was now seeking a blessing. It wasn’t like she was about to do something reckless, or ruin her life. She wanted to go away with a boy she loved and Nari couldn’t see why Minjoon would say no.

Hi dad. His name is Baylor Park. I know, I haven’t told you much about it yet, but honestly, I haven’t had the chance. I wanted to ask...you know that—

In the midst of her rushing thoughts, Minjoon opened the door of his condo and Nari found herself blurting out a “Hi, dad! I’m here,” before she could realize just how stupid that sounded. Of course she was there. She had called him that very morning and told him she was coming; and she had knocked the door at noon sharp, just when she said she would come; and she was standing right there in front of him, so of course she was “here”.

“I can see that,” Minjoon said with an amused tone of voice and let her in.

After taking a deep breath, Nari walked in and tried to act as normal as possible - she removed her shoes and hung her coat, she then proceeded right into the living room and, to her disappointment, found no sight of Taemin or Hoxmarch. If either of them had been there, she might have found some comfort, an anchor of a sort, or more courage to just get right the Hell to the point, but she was alone with Minjoon, and his oppressive presence had already started to take a toll on his fidgety younger daughter. Her dad was, she noticed, oddly quiet at first. He had disappeared off to the kitchen as soon as she made herself comfortable, and he came back several, abnormally long minutes later carrying two bottles of soju and some peanuts. He placed them on the table, pulled in his armchair and then sat right down, crossed his legs, and then popped the bottles open. “Well?” he asked while handing her one. “I didn’t expect to see you before the New Year.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nari said while taking the bottle. She had last seen her dad a day after her birthday - it had been three days ever since. The year was almost over, barely a couple of days separating the world from the next decade and while that seemed to fill everyone else with a healthy dose of anticipation and enthusiasm, Nari remained indifferent at the prospect of fireworks and sunrise-watching and welcoming the new rotation around the Sun. She looks at the soju bottle before taking a small sip, savoring the flavor. “I-uh guess I wanted to see how you’re doing? We didn’t catch up all that much the other day.”

Minjoon takes a slow sip from his own bottle, then lays it on the table and grabs some peanuts - about half a handful - and starts to clean them one by one. “I’m always doing the same, you know that. Questioning my damn existence with all the brothers - and sister - festering in my vicinity and seeking cheap, short thrills. Same old. same old.”

Nari snorted. “You haven’t come to the races lately, what’s up with that?” Already, she had started to relax. She could practically feel the knots in her muscles releasing, and her body becoming lighter as she grabbed for some peanuts as well.

“I’ll come when I come. They’re not going anywhere. You don’t have to work today?”

“No,” she shook her head and began to munch on the snack, avoiding eye contact still. “I took a few days off from the repair shop, but I may pick up some shifts at the bar, I’m kinda low there.”

“Kim Nari,” Minjoon suddenly says, shifting in his seat. As soon as he calls out to her, she looks up at him finally and when she does, he locked her in a stare-down, with no intentions of letting her gaze fall away from him. “You didn’t come here to shoot the breeze, so why not just get to it.”

“I.”

“Does it have anything to do with Whatshisname?”

Ever so slowly, Nari felt at least a part of her color fade from her face. She stopped chewing and swallowed thickly, watching Minjoon’s face intently. He was definitely talking about Baylor, though she had no idea how. Had Hoxmarch spilled the beans finally? No, probably not. Right? Was her dad upset, indifferent or pleased? She had no idea, could have been all, neither or any one of those. “Baylor. His name is Baylor. How did you...?”

“When I came to your place, I saw a lovely pair of a man’s gloves in the hallway and I’m sure you don’t own those. Plus, that whole place smelled like what might be a human, though I’m not willing to bet my life on it. It also smelled like cologne, slightly.”

“Kyungsoo was there on my birthday, you know, it could have easily been him.”

“Are you being a smart-ass right now?” Minjoon asked, his voice devoid of any tone or emotion, and frankly, this startled Nari more than it would ever scare her had he went off on a shouting rant. Minjoon rarely, if ever, shouted though - as a matter of fact, Nari had never once heard him raise his voice at her, yet there was always something eerie about how flat and icy his intonation could get, how bereft of any emotion or tangibility it could become that she would have preferred him getting aggressive or loud over that at any time.

“I’m...I’m not being a smart-ass.” She lets out a sigh and finally moves a bit on her seat. Before then, she was frozen, unsure what to do with her own body. She swallows the rest of the peanuts in her mouth, and washes them down with more of the alcohol, downing a handsome amount of it before she can bring herself to speak again. “I was going to tell you but calling you and saying Hi dad I have a boyfriend now sounds kind of weird, don’t you think?”

“You called me when you beat the crap out of that girl back in middle school, saying Hey, dad, uh, I broke someone’s nose. Do you really think news about someone you’re seeing is worse than that?”

“No, I,” touche. She really did do that. So, why had she hesitated to tell him about Baylor? She was confident that he would like Baylor - and possibly vice versa. Hell, even Changseon liked Baylor, which was, admittedly, a thought she needed to keep to herself. Minjoon couldn’t know, not yet, what actually happened three weeks ago. “Look. He’s a really great guy. His name is Baylor Park. He’s a med student. He’s American, actually, but he lives here right now. Long story. But, he’s really...great.” She was becoming nervous again, as evidenced by the way her hands began to slowly fidget. “You’ll really like him.”

“Maybe I will. I mean this is the first time you’re actually...dating, isn’t it? So, not like I have a banana for scale, anyone to compare him with,” Pride’s voice softened by now and he was back to shoving peanuts in his mouth and nibbling them.

“Now you’re being a smart-ass. Or just an ass.”

“I’m often told that.”

“Well, um...School holidays are coming soon and we wanted to do something with it, you know? Before he’s drowning in his studies and I have to continue working as hard as I usually do.”

“Is he human?”

“And- What? No, he’s not.”

“What is he?”

“He’s a...mutant.”

Minjoon raises an eyebrow. “So, he’s mortal?” A mutant? What was that supposed to mean? Was he born a human and then mutated into something else or was he born into it? Or was he...created...Minjoon felt like someone splashed him with a bucket of cold water when he thought of the word “created”. Could this boy have come from that strange and unknown mutation the immortals had caught wind off some decades ago? Could it be the same gene that Lust himself had hooked his claws in two decades ago? The mutation that had...No, impossible. It was a coincidence, it had to be. Where was that brat of Lust’s anyway? Whatever was born out of that union, whoever ran around the world with Lust’s gene in them, remained off radar God knew how and Lust was unwilling to tell a soul where the half-blood was.

“He is. I guess. That’s beside the point right now. What I’m trying to ask you is-”

“Does he know you’re not quite mortal yourself?” Minjoon’s questions came one after the other, without much break or predictability, and Nari was increasingly frustrated with it, her thoughts getting sent off the rails constantly.

“No. Yes, I don’t know!” she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dad, will you listen to me for a moment?” It was a sensitive subject, one that Nari wasn’t ready to even think about more deeply. Her being...mortal or immortal, no one knew, and Baylor having a potentially normal lifespan was a topic, and issue, for a whole other chapter and she was far too scatter-minded and evasive of the topic to even approach it with Minjoon.

“I’m listening. He has holidays soon and you two want to make good of it.”

Make good of it. Nari gave Minjoon a deadpanned look. She really should have just used the word herself, clearly. “Yeah,” she hears herself say. “It’s holidays, so I was wondering...Do you have plans to go to the uh...mountain house?”

“No. Taemin and I are going to Oahu next week.”

“Lovely! Do you think you could, uh...borrow...me...the...keys?” There’s a timid, embarrassed even, smile on her lips as she asks him, and the moment the words leave her mouth her cheeks and ears start to become burning red.

There’s a heavy moment of silence between father and daughter. Nari thought that if she tried hard enough, she would be able to hear Minjoon’s heart beat, or the next-door neighbour breathing from how deafeningly quiet the condo had become, but the spell is broken quickly when Minjoon’s mouth curls into a mischievous smirk and he un-crosses his legs and lets out a little cackle. “Sure. Nari, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re an adult. You can do whatever you want, with whoever you want, but honestly, I’d much prefer if I know where you are while you’re doing it. At least in this case.” Baylor Park, American, mutant, the words are still going through his head. There were no such things as coincidences in this world, he thought, yet...he was willing to entertain this one if the universe would allow him. “You are planning to introduce us, aren’t you?”

Nari’s body becomes lighter than before as she heard his approval and she is able to laugh a little as she nods, in excitement. “Of course I am. As soon as....Well, I don’t know, how long you staying in Hawaii? Maybe after the winter break, I’ll bring him over to Lady Xian for a dinner, how does that sound?” And as long as Hoxy doesn’t tell him that he has already met Baylor, this should work real fucking swell.

“Frankly, I’m a bit offended Kyungsoo got to meet your beau before me but I guess I can let it slide this time,” Minjoon says leaning back against his seat. “I trust you know what you’re doing.”

The redness in her head increased, along with the heat, and Nari coughed a little. She reached for her drink and took a big sip before nodding. “I do, yeah.”

“I meant...what you’re doing, regarding him. And you.”

Oh. She looks up at Minjoon, her eyes filled with a kind of melancholy. “I think that I do. It’s too early to talk about some things. I’m just twenty-two, he’s just twenty. We’ve got a life ahead of us.”

“I suppose you do,” he shrugs. “Hey, I didn’t know you were into younger men.”

“Dad!” Nari reaches for a small, decorative pillow and throws it right at his face, though Minjoon catches it before it ruins his perfect hairstyle.

“What?” he asks through another chuckle. “My vessel is also...was also younger than your mom, so I see where that comes from.”

“You’re fucking gross.”

“Yeah...” He offers his daughter an adoring smile. “I’m told often.”

[jungkooksthighsinc]

Fallen (M) Chapter One

Next

Hi! This is a Jungkook AU! I really hope you enjoy this series! Happy reading! 

For me my world has always been one way, in one system, black and white. There were no ‘gray areas’. Until I met you… I guess I should start from the beginning, huh? It’ll be easier for you to understand this way. So it won’t hurt as much… Or at least I hope.

“(y/n)! Are you listening~” Your friend, Nari waved her hand in front of your face. “Huh? What?” You ask, completely dazed. Your final exams have been back to back non-stop. You spent nearly almost all your free time studying, and the small few hours you’ve worked, you actually enjoyed. I suppose it’s my only break from the oppression of school. You thought.

“Party, tonight. My house. You coming?” Nari was the party type, but she wouldn’t get shitfaced. She’d just go to have fun and enjoy herself. She gets a sort of ‘natural high’ from them.

“You know that’s not my style” You sigh while rolling your eyes. Never in your life had you gone to a party (aside from birthdays), and you most certainly aren’t going to start now. “Aw come on! It will be so fun~” she cooed.

The bell rang and you internally growled. Exam for college algebra, my favorite. “No, besides my exam plate is stacked enough for a party of 5 to eat. I need to cram.” You sighed “it’s always about studying this, cramming that, work this. Come and hang out with me~ I miss you-“ “bye love” You waved her off with her retorts right with her.

Being short was never fun for you, especially through the halls. People always pushing past your shoulders, constantly being pinned against others because everyone is just trying to do the same thing, get to their class.

Not paying attention, you tripped. You fell flat on your ass, because someone’s bag was on the floor.

“Taehyung!” You heard someone yell.

Looking up, you see him. Jeon Jungkook. Smiling down at your pathetic self on the floor. “Sorry, my friend threw my bag. I hope you didn’t get hurt.” He said sweetly offering his hand, but you refused picking yourself up. All the girls in the school were in love with this guy. But you knew what he was known for, getting girls in bed then ditching them. You weren’t about that life.

“It’s fine,” You faked smiled “It’s my fault for not paying attention anyways” a small chuckle escaped your throat. A boy with silver hair and a red bandanna came running after you. You could feel Jungkook staring at you, but you ignored it.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think anyone would trip!” The boy apologized. “It’s okay, really.” You smiled gently at the boy and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go now, bye.” You quickly said, excusing yourself.

I’m guessing that’s Taehyung. You thought.

Walking into class, you cleared your head and readied yourself for your exam. You were still in high school, but since your school offered college classes, you decided to take them. But it was a heavy workload, and you barely had time to enjoy yourself.

“(y/n)! Don’t think you’re getting away that easily!” Nari called after you as you walked to your car. Your brain was completely fried from that exam. Logarithms, polynomials, exponential functions, and even some damn calculus was in that test! That professor is evil. You swore that you were going to be dreaming of the equations for the next week because it is so damn engraved in your brain.

“You’re coming to the party. You’re a junior, live your life. We can have a sleepover and just talk about stupid things when the party's over” She begged with her hands together and puppy dog eyes. You felt bad, you hadn’t been spending much time with her despite her always texting you to hang. “Well it is Friday so…” “Yay!” She jumped and hugged you. “You won’t regret it!” she started to run off. “I have work till eight you know!” I yelled after her and she just put her hand up as if saying ‘yeah yeah’.

“That girl I swear” You couldn’t help but smile. Nari was like a ray of sunshine. She’s always fun to be around, and she can be very down to earth. At times she may not look it, but she’s a good judge of character and people's moods. She always seems to know just the right things to say.

You worked in a small coffee shop. To be honest you weren’t much of a coffee person, you were more of a tea person. But the aroma of coffee was so intoxicating to you. Different coffees had different scents. Some were bitter, some were sweet. Your favorite was the ‘Indian Monsooned Malabar’ blend. It had a bittersweet scent but it invades your senses and makes you feel so relaxed and at home.

“Hi Hoseok” You smiled at your co-worker. You both went to the same high school, and your shifts always seemed to sync up. “Hey, (y/n)” He gave you one of his famous bright smiles. You always took notice of his customer service since he’s always tipped well.

“Counter today?” You asked, tying your hair up and throwing on your apron. “Yep” He laughed, slipping off his backpack and green bomber jacket. Stepping into the back, you quickly made yourself look presentable. A little bit of lip gloss and mascara. You didn’t care much for how you looked, but at work it was different. You like tips, and you found that when you look a little more cute, people tend to tip well.

“Is Brian and Chase still out there?” you asked while pinning on your name tag “Yeah they’re cleaning up right now.” he was doing the same as well. He fixed his red hair today to look a little curly. Hoseok was a dancer, you’ve seen him a couple times. Mostly through just late nights of closing the shop. But each time it was more enjoyable than the last. He danced with so much passion and elegance, it truly is beautiful.

You clocked yourself in and did the same for Hoseok. He had already started preparing some of the coffee grounds. You guys had a system. He’d prep, you’d clean. Then at the end of the night you would prep and he would clean. This is how these things have always gone between you two. You worked surprisingly well together.

“Oh hey man!” Hoseok said, you turned to see him giving a bro five to Jungkook, who’s eyes immediately found yours. “Hey” He smiled back at Hoseok “Can I get a cappuccino?” “Yeah sure, (y/n).” Hoseok quickly shot you a look and you had already started.

A medium roast espresso blend in a drip coffee machine. As the cup filled, you steamed the milk, whipped it until it became a froth. Gently, you poured the milk over the dark liquid. You created a tree design in the froth due to it being December. Taking a small moment you admired your work.

Walking over, you brought him his drink. “Here you go sir, is there anything else you’d like?” You fake smiled, a beautiful art that you’ve picked up through this job. You honestly didn’t want to be around this douche. And this is the first time that you’ve ever seen the hoe here in the two whole years that you’ve worked here.

“Yes, I’d like you.” He brought his coffee to his pink lips and locked eyes with yours. Your heart clenched and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. What the fuck? You thought. “Sorry, but I’m not for sale.” You smiled sarcastically and walked off, fists clenched. How bold! And rude, what even was that! Why is he even here. Why am I blushing? Why is my heart pounding?

“(y/n) one americano” Hoseok called “G-Got it” you stammered and mentally cursed at yourself. Hoseok gave you a weird look but you ignored it and made the coffee.

As soon as Jungkook left, you felt the tension in your chest release. How annoying. He was there for at least an hour, and every time you passed him to give customers their orders, you could definitely feel him looking at you. It was like a 6th sense or something, but you could definitely feel it.

You went to his table to clean up. And as you were, you saw a $20 tip and his number on a napkin. Your eye twitched. Who does this boy think he is? A sex god? I don’t want this dumbasses number! After putting the twenty in your pouch, crumpling the napkin, wiping down the table, and made your way back to the sink.

Is he trying to buy me? Get my attention? Well he got it alright, he’s lucky I don’t shove my foot up his ass. Wait- no I am a peer mediator that would be not something a good samaritan would do. “(y/n), I know I’m cute and all, but stop daydreaming about me and make a chai latte to go” Hoseok smiled at you, and his words brought you out of your thoughts.

“Pf, you wish dude” you laughed and he followed suit.

The rest of your work evening was pretty normal paced. Just the same old back and forward motions, you and Hoseok messing around. Counting tips, etc.

You were prepping all the coffee machines for tomorrow when Hoseok tapped you on the shoulder.

“What’s up?” You asked, wiping away at the stains in the metal rim of an espresso bean grinder. “It’s eight, your shift is done” you shooed him away. “I’m not gonna leave you my work load. That’s not cool.” you sighed, turning to face him, well more like looking up at him since you were short. “Yeah, but I don’t mind. Besides you have Naris party to go to right~” He teased. You wondered how he knew but he answered that for you. “I’m going too, but I overheard you guys in the parking lot in front of the school” he cleared his throat “You’re a junior, live your life.” He quoted Nari, but in a higher pitched mocked version of her voice.

Laughing, you pushed Hoseok's shoulder. “She doesn’t sound like that you idiot” You chuckled and he pretended to flip his imaginary long hair over his shoulder “She totally does” he said still in the ridiculous voice.

You two laughed a bit more and then found an agreement since you both were going to the party it would just be easier if you both closed up the shop.

“See you at the party (y/n), don’t get shitfaced now!” Hoseok teased as we got into our cars. “Please if anyone is getting drunk it’s you or Namjoon.” “You’re probably right” He smiled brightly, and from there you both drove to Naris place.

Luckily since you had to go to work, you dressed nicely. A pair of black ripped Jeans, a slightly oversized black shirt that said ‘NeverMind’, a simple white beanie and white hightop vans to match.

The house was a large two story white home on private land. Both of Naris parents are overseas at the moment for their company. The house was already flooded, and cars were starting to line the driveway. Loud music bombed from the entirety of the property. People were outside watching others on the ‘Keg stand’. That weird beer thing where people do a handstand and try to drink as much beer for as long as possible.

Oh boy. You thought as you stepped out of your black mazda6, Hoseok right behind you. “Don’t be nervous!” He slapped you on the back. “You’ll have fun”. You seriously doubted that, but regardless, you walked with him to the entrance and through the swarm of bodies.

As you entered the house, people were grinding on each other with red solo cups in their hands. Strobe lights flashed all throughout the house. The music was now so loud it felt as if your spine had vibrations going through it.

Making your way to the kitchen you found your best friend, you somehow lost Hoseok but you were honestly fine with it since he’s friends with pretty much everybody.

“Nari” You sighed in relief. “(y/n), you made it! I’m so glad!” She gave you a tight hug. Nari had on a skin tight red dress that made her boobs stand out. She paired it with a black velvet choker, and some red heels. “You trying to get laid? You look hot” You said and your best friend smiled. “Nope, just making sure guys know I’m not a snack” She gave a wink. Her beautiful long black hair framed her face and body nicely. She had a small frame but just enough curves. Her skin was pale, and she had big brown eyes. A lot of guys like her, and it’s easy to understand why.

“Let’s go dance (y/n)-”

“Hey Nari”

Both you and your friend turn around to find Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jungkook. I almost puked and Nari almost melted, she has a thing for Namjoon.

“H-Hi” She stammered cutely. “Want to dance?” He asked, his voice deep and confident, but red stained his cheeks as he held out his hand. She quickly looked back at me asking for permission, her eyes desperate. How could I say no? I gave her a nod and she took his hand swiftly and led him to the dance floor.

“Shit” I cursed, completely forgetting there were 6 other guys in this kitchen.

“Ah! You’re the cute girl from earlier!” Taehyung exclaimed, making your eyes widen. “C-Cute?” You stuttered, a flush running over your cheeks. He gave a cute laugh and you wanted to bolt. “I didn’t think this was your scene.” Jungkook smirked. You wanted to slap him. “(y/n) right? I’m Yoongi we take the same music tech class.” He said, but of course you already knew who he was. “Hi” Jimin smiled, along Jungkook, he’s known as one of the hottest guys in school. “Don’t crowd the girl!” Seokjin exclaimed. “Okay mom~” Hoseok teased.

“Hi” You said quietly as all the boys stared at you, it was uncomfortable, and something you were not used to. You were that one quiet girl who sat in the back of the class with a book in her hand, the one who spent her free time studying. The ‘Teacher’s Pet’. Not the girl who goes to parties, and adding onto that getting noticed by a bunch of hot guys.

“(y/n) don’t be weird” Hoseok laughed and patted you on the back. You shot him a death glare. “So you’re name is (y/n), you’re so cute and small” Taehyung said, bending down to look at you better. Why does he keep calling me cute? This is so weird, Nari please save me from this hell.

“So, (y/n)” Jungkook saying your name sent shivers down your spine. “What?” You asked, no fake niceness in your voice. The others were taken aback except for Hoseok, he was used to it. “Get my number?” He asked, not wiping that ‘I know I’m irresistible’ smirk off his face. “Yep I did, and I threw it away. I don’t want it. I’ll pass, not smash. Thanks.” With that, you walked away leaving them all stumped. You ran up the stairs to Naris bedroom and shut the door locking it behind you.

Your face was burning bright red. What was that?! Why did I say that? What’s wrong with me, why can’t I just be a quiet girl that doesn’t stand out? Throwing yourself on the floor, you let your racing heart rest. You felt the steam rise from your face. This isn’t me.

“(y/n)! Get your ass out of my room and come have fun!” Nari’s voice came from the other side of the door. Very muted, but still audible. So quick! What the fuck does she have ninja senses? “Fuck no! I just embarrassed myself”. Suddenly her door was open and she came to my side. Wasn’t that door just locked?

“Telling off a fuckboy? Being a badass? Be proud! I’m proud!” You covered your face as she beamed at you. “Where’s Namjoon?” You peeked through your fingers, up at your friend. “He’s teasing Jungkook for getting rejected. Now, let’s make you look hot so he really gets pissed.”

“Oh hell no”

“Yep deal with it”

“But your clothes are revealing!”

“That’s the point!”

You fought with her till you was reduced to a pair of short black shorts, a white crop top, that was more of a bra if we’re being up front here, a black and gold choker, your beanie and shoes. She made you take your hair out, and straighten it. She put a dark reddish brown lipstick on you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you stared, mortified.

“I look like a whore” You shot her a death glance and all she gave you was a smile. “That top really shows off your baby abs” You were slightly athletic, running and core strengthening was about the extent you’d go to. “I don’t have abs, and I don’t want to be seen like this.” You hid your burning face. Too much skin was exposed.

“Just for one night, (y/n). Own it and be badass!” without even giving you time to respond, she grabbed your wrist with a surprising amount of strength and dragged your sorry ass down stairs.

You got some looks, mostly of shock. One of those shocked faces being a Hoseok and a Seokjin. Nari lead you through the pit of sweaty bodies, towards the middle. ‘Dance’ she mouthed, moving her hips and throwing her hair around to the erratic beat of the music. You slightly moved your hips, but you felt awkward, like everyone was looking at you. Nari rolled her eyes, grabbed your hands and started jumping up and down with you. “Go crazy and have fun!” She yelled over the insanely loud trap music.

Somehow, somewhere inside you, you hit the ‘fuck it’ button. So you did as she said, you moved your hips rhythmically, you tossed your hair side to side, and danced with your best friend. If you looked stupid? You couldn’t care less. You were on such a high, it was almost like the music was coursing through you and all you could do was move how it made you feel.

Suddenly someone's hands gripped around your waist. Quickly, you turned around and it was Jungkook. All the fun you were having? Gone. But, an idea popped in your head. “You don’t give up do you?” You yelled, still moving your hips to the beat, his hands still held firmly. “Not when I see something I like” He answered, tongue running over his glistening pink lips. He turned you around, your back against his hard chest as he grinded against you, you could feel his erection against your ass.  

With a smirk, you turned standing on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his ear. “I’m not something you can have.” you whispered, while playing with the hairs close to the nape of his neck. With that you removed his hands and swayed back over to Nari, but you didn’t break eye contact with him. He looked dazed, confused, and most of all, really, really pissed.

The rest of the party was pretty much one fantastic blur, you and Nari just danced, had fun but then when everyone was going, you two collapsed on her bed.

“Finally everyone's gone” She weakly laughed “God I know” the both of you were tired, but she jumped up almost nearly as energetic as she was at the beginning of this party. Almost as if she was remembering something she was excited about.

“What was that with Jungkook?”

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it, please give me feed back. Also my requests are open so feel free to ask away!

[amnesiawivess]

currently:

You Again

Dean is reincarnated through the millennia. Castiel finds him again and again. It's less like a case of star-crossed souls flung across time and space and more like Castiel keeps running into him at the grocery store.

The first time Castiel sets down on Earth to walk among the creatures formed in his Father's image, it is a Thursday, which means nothing to him yet. It means nothing to the humans either, who will only call it Thursday retroactively, and nearly by mistake. But mistake and fate are sometimes hard to tell apart.

He alights on a small hill overlooking a valley, into the body of a pilgrim who has been sitting on a wide, flat rock beneath a tree. This is the first time Castiel has ever occupied a human vessel, and it takes some getting used to. He shuffles around inside the man's skin, trying to figure out the best way to arrange his grace, and feels uncomfortably confined. Castiel is a being of infinities. This new finite state is unnatural.

Gradually, he adjusts. Eventually, he stands, and wanders down the hillside toward a small brook that chatters happily with the rocks as it winds its way through the grass. The water is too wild for Castiel to see his vessel's face clearly reflected, but he sees his shadow, and the sky above, and the sun.

This human perspective of things, these distortions and half-truths of vision and light - they leave Castiel feeling disoriented. How can anyone live like this, stumbling blindly along, bound to the dirt? It's baffling.

Nonetheless, he came to observe these creatures whom he has only ever seen from a great distance or through the stories of other angels. He'll have to learn this body, how to effectively use its ambulatory functions so that he moves with steady grace and not clumsiness. Then he'll find some other humans to interact with. He will learn about their humble lives.

Presently, Castiel becomes aware of a sound drawing closer. It’s a melody of some kind, and its source becomes clear as a man appears out of the shadow of the hill, strolling at a leisurely pace. He is young and fair and carries a long stick, and as he goes, he whistles a tune. When the man notices Castiel, however, he draws up short.

"Hello, stranger," the man says.

There is a long pause while Castiel determines the mechanism for human speech.

"Hello," he finally manages to stiffly respond.

"I haven't seen another man in days," the man says. "What brings you to this wild part of the world?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel says. "I have come to observe the human race."

The man leans up against his walking staff, making no response, and the two regard each other for a long, silent beat.

"You do not appear to be suffering," Castiel finally says.

"Not at the moment, no," the man says. He appears amused, although Castiel's not certain where this humor stems from.

"I had heard that to live a mortal life was to suffer greatly," Castiel elaborates. “That it was a short, pitiable existence full of sorrow and misfortune.”

"He doesn’t speak falsely!" the man says. "But tell me something, oh - what was your name?"

"Castiel."

"Tell me something, oh Castiel, angel of the Lord. Why would you think a thing like that?"

"...Because God hath cast you out of Paradise and into this wretched world as punishment for the first sin, the breaking of his commandment, the stealing and eating of the forbidden fruit."

"Uh-huh," the man says.

He reaches up and pulls a rucksack off his back, an old cloth bag tied round his shoulders. From it, he pulls two pieces of dried fruit.

"Since you've just come all the way down from the dwelling of the gods," he says (and in such a tone that Castiel begins to suspect that this man does not truly believe he is an angel), "I suppose the wise thing to do would be to give you an offering. Have you ever eaten a fig before?"

"I do not eat," Castiel says.

The man raises an eyebrow.

Castiel hesitates, and then reaches out to take the piece of small, brown fig that the man holds toward him. Castiel frowns down at it, finding it rather ugly.

"You put it in your mouth," the man says. "And chew. Like so." He demonstrates with his own piece.

Castiel puts the dried fig to his lips and takes a brave, exploratory bite. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. As an angel, having no need to eat, he has never tasted anything before.

"It's...sweet," he says, struggling for the right descriptive word.

"Good, right?" the man says as he chews. "So humor me, Castiel. Here we are, on a mild and pleasant day, sharing a delicious fig, in a peaceful little valley with nary a wolf nor tax collector in sight, and you mean to tell me that we've been kicked out of paradise? As punishment for eating a piece of fruit?"

Castiel looks around.

"...Yes," he says.

"Then the way I see it, you can take this so-called paradise of yours," the man says,"and stuff it."

Castiel gapes at him. He has never, in all his thousands of years, heard such blasphemy before.

"You are quite impudent," he finally manages to choke out, which, of course, doesn't really begin to cover it.

"So it is often said," the man says with a smile.

Castiel's feathers ruffle with embarrassment and annoyance. He regrets, suddenly, the curiosity that brought him here, the whim. The door had been left open ajar, and he'd taken the opportunity to have a peek. That had clearly been a mistake. He is a soldier, his duty is to fight and follow orders, and he ought to have restricted himself to such offices. This foray has been a waste of time.

"Farewell," he says to the man. And then, because he is polite, "Thank you for the fig."

Then he shakes himself free from his vessel and darts off into the atmosphere, leaving the pilgrim he inhabited to slump boneless and stunned to the ground. As for the wanderer Castiel spoke to, he merely blinks at the strange fellow - obviously mad - resumes his whistling, and carries on his way.

][

It's a few hundred years before Castiel returns to Earth, this time by command. Things are stirring down in the mortal realm. Plans are being set in motion. The archangels are doing things, more than they usually do, and Gabriel in particular seems to be delighted with some secret knowledge. Despite his obvious excitement, he refuses to divulge the source of his mirth to anyone who asks.

"Can't spill the beans before the big announcement," Castiel has overheard him saying with the angelic equivalent of a wink. It’s a little obnoxious.

At any rate, Castiel finds himself deployed to fight the influence of demons in the north, in a land much colder and darker than the valley which he visited before. It rains there, the droplets carried like blades on a razor sharp wind, and the thick pines bend and creak loudly all around.

Castiel wanders the ranks of an army, Balthazar at his side, both of them invisible to the human eye. They observe the men littered around the campsite, huddled around small fires wrapped in cloaks and furs. The men talk quietly among themselves. The mood is low, their voices subdued.

“Many of these men will die here,” Castiel observes, “far from their homes and loved ones.”

“Many more of their enemies will fall,” Balthazar says. “Many, many more. A sea of blood will wash across these lands. The human way is folly.”

“It is their leaders who err. Could the demoniac be among them?”

“Yet the men still follow,” Balthazar says, with a cutting look that Castiel can’t quite decipher. It disquiets something in him. “But if you’re right, we have our work cut out for us. Let’s hope it’s not the big man. I’d like to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Castiel agrees, and the two resume their search, scanning each cluster of men in search of one who reeks of brimstone. Even with their angelic powers and with two of them at work, there are so many humans here that it takes time.

Suddenly, Castiel stops. He hovers before a small fire, staring down at a man who rubs his hands together to conjure warmth into his digits. His face is familiar.

“Have you found one?” Balthazar asks, joining him.

“No, he's free from demonic influence, but...How long do humans live for?”

“Less than a century.”

“That's what I thought,” Castiel says. “Yet I recognize one who should have died long ago.”

Balthazar makes a considering sound.

“He could be reincarnated,” he says.

“Reincarnated?” This is the first Castiel has heard of such a thing.

“Yes, some of them are,” Balthazar says. “The true vessels of the archangels, of course, because they must be always ready to be inhabited, although I hardly think one would be found slumming around in the Roman legions of all places. The prophets, sometimes. Certain other men with great destinies, too. I was always a little unclear on that one. It's like God pops them out of the oven every once in a while just to check if they're done, only to put them immediately back in.”

“Out of the what?”

“Never mind.” Balthazar’s aura flickers with humor. “Human thing. I know you’re unfamiliar. But, say, now that I mention it, when have you ever been among humans before?”

Castiel tries to suppress his swelling embarrassment and guilt and says, “Just once, a few centuries ago. It was very brief.”

“Huh. Well, that's certainly a coincidence, to run into the same soul twice. I wonder if your fates are bound somehow.”

“That,” Castiel says caustically, “seems unlikely.”

Balthazar looks between him and the human for a moment, amused. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he decides to let it go.

“At any rate,” he says, “we should continue with our duty.”

Balthazar moves on. Castiel gives the shivering form of the reincarnated man one last once over. He certainly seems to be suffering now, in this frozen wood full of slaughter. Surely he wouldn't so flippantly dismiss Paradise.

Yet as Castiel's gaze lingers, the man reaches up and pulls a small pouch out from under his armor where it hangs by a leather thong. From it, his stout fingers pull a lock of dark, silky hair bound by a thread. The man closes his eyes and presses the lock gently to his lips.

His expression is utterly different from the way it had looked in the valley. Castiel is uncertain how to identify it, only that it is soft and maybe - warm. The world all around them is cold - soon it will begin to snow - yet there seems in this man some other secret source of fire. Castiel is reminded of how that same face looked as it ate dried fig and declared that there was Paradise on Earth. Something in these two moments are the same.

Castiel frowns, shakes himself, and turns to see where Balthazar has gone. He resolves to put the man out of his mind. For good this time.

[tsundozer]

💣 Name one dangerous experience they survived.

The first thing Rha felt, which brought him to consciousness, was incidentally the very thing that put him out to begin with: a large suitcase fell from above, and clipped his head on the way down. It tumbled, hitting seats and fastened, secured tables, and came to rest upon the wall with various other luggage (including the original offender). His eyes fluttered open, accompanied by a groan. Slowly, his hand shakily made it’s way upwards. A flash of red, though his vision was still blurred and disoriented. “S’that…s’that my blood?” He shut his eyes to will away the double-vision. He took a bit to gather his thoughts, to remember, to put together just what had happened to get him up to this moment in time, and why his entire body felt like he’d been slammed against several tonze of steel.

He was…on an airship. That’s right–he’d been on a flight, leaving from a popular resort town in the southern seas, back towards Limsa. He’d just arrived there, after returning from the sea of ash. So many stops. He remembered Siri being annoyed by how many different legs of this particular expedition there were, all of them—

Siri! Where was she? His eyes flew open. He didn’t see her–he didn’t see anyone. Just empty benches, a few bodies. Everything was off. He was sitting, but he was staring at the ceiling. All of the pressure was on his back. Everything had gone…vertical. He didn’t have much time to contemplate it.There was a loud creak, and the landscape seemed to pitch to the left–he followed shortly after, slipping from laying against bench to tumbling a fulm. He gripped the edge as the whole room inverted on its axis, slid, and stopped with a sudden jolt, a jolt which loosened his grip and sent him into the pile of baggage below. He felt something warm and wet, as he moved to hold his head.

“Shit, yeah. That’s definitely my blood.”

He laid there for a moment. Not because he wanted to, but because he really didn’t know what else to do. He was dumbfounded. He was in the air, now he–wasn’t. His head lolled to the right. He could see out of a window…rock. A lot of rock, wedged right up against it. Okay. The left–where was the left? He saw open air, no airship hull to speak of for about five fulms before the wall returned, beginning with jagged edges before smoothing out. Bits of rock and debris punctured it at several points. Effortfully, he rolled and then dragged himself across to the other side of the ship. He hovered at ledge, where the wall used to be, and felt the jagged edges of the floor tear at his thigh. He made a sharp hiss and held his leg–it cut right through his pants. Fuck, he loved those pants! Leaning out over the edge, he looked along the length of the ship. It looks like it had become wedged between two ends of a particularly sheer, narrow gorge. The creaking and tossing he’d felt had been the tumble and fall as it slid and careened lower, every so often. He chanced at looking down.

Rha immediately regretted looking down.

It seemed to go on for yalms. Beneath a thick layer of fog, he could just barely make out the ocean below, crashing against the cliffs. He did note that, thankfully, he was at least near La Noscea. He’d recognize those cliffs anywhere.

“Siri? Larkson?!” He called out loudly, wincing as his head pounded from the effort. No response. Right. They’d been–taken. Inolcus had demanded the vase. Bastard. The one from the temple, on the island of deonú Dé. They’d put up a fight, alright. All three of them had seen what it could do. When Dulphont had first laid hands on it, they thought nothing of it. But that night, he and seven of their men had turned on everyone else. Some seemed to be effected later. It was…strange. Unnerving. Unlike any of them. He understood, then, that the ‘God’ the people of deonú Dé worshipped was very much alive–and no benign deity. Not in the slightest. It was a terrible, dangerous thing–and Rha knew that someday, someone much like him would come across that island and try to take it for their own. He couldn’t allow that, no matter what promises of knowledge it might offer. The Eolais was not an artifact that should be left unprotected. He understood that.

He also understood what a madman would do, if he entered into a contract with what lurked within.

They put up a good fight, at least, he thought to himself. Siri in particular, in all her bravery, clocked the garlean engineer square in the jaw so hard that he heard it shatter. The man would be needing prosthetics, after that–and Rha was fairly certain that Siri would find him again, and break that, too.

Thals’ saggin’ balls, he hoped they were alright. He remembered refusing–briefly, he checked his bag. It wasn’t there. Shit. He tried to remember how he got here, as he tested each leg (workin’ fine!), and gripped the side of the ship. He was going to have to climb. Above, some of the ship’s wall had peeled and was pressed tightly against the cliff face. He There was a decent outcropping there, from which he could get his bearings. It was going to be a long climb up. Judging from the deep gouges in the cliffs, they’d fallen quite some way. It’d be pretty far back up!

He gripped the sharp metal, wincing as it dug into his palm, and hoisted himself up onto the top of the passenger ship.

The hole wasn’t from the cliff. He remembered that, as he climbed out from it and saw warped metal. It was from a hole blown right in it. It was how dear Inolcus made his entry. The sudden release of pressure had nearly blown his eardrums, as did the sound the blast from his magitek cannon made as it tore open their vessel. And there he was, in a small private ship. He mulled over the events, as he began his climb. He demanded the vase–I refused. He held a gun up to Siri. We were already starting to fall, I didn’t have time. If I handed it over, he’d take us all to safety. If I didn’t, he’d shoot her, and let the rest of us fall. He could always recover it from the wreck, but it’d be more difficult. I started to cave. I slipped on my gloves and tossed it towards him. He shot Larkson in the leg, dragged them both off–shoved me back. She grabbed the vase as they were flyin’ out, and swung the fuckin’ thing right into his face. It bounced, she released it, and it plummeted. Hopefully it’s in the godsdammned ocean, where no-one will think t’find it. I tried to get to them, luggage beans me, I’m out.

It was all piecing together quite nicely, now. Twelve, he hoped she had been wearing gloves.

The ship groaned warningly beneath him, and he felt a sudden drop. The gauges in the walls were now a fulm or two longer. The ship tilted back, and he had to adjust his footing. He took a step, then another, each time it groaned in protest.

“Okay, okay. Take it slow Rha, ta~ake it slow. The last thing you want is for this thing to start to—” he stumbled on a panel that had been ripped partially out of place. As he struggled to regain his footing, he felt it pitch back more. His balance shifted beneath him as it began to slip once more.

“…Fall.”

Caution abandoned, he ran across the top of this ship, swearing on the name of every god he knew, and then adding a few extra for good measure, for the ones he didn’t. It was near vertical, by the time he reached the front (back, technically) of the vessel. His feet skidded–he put what pressure he could against the metal and propelled himself upward in a jump, gripping the rudder just as it aligned perfectly on its newfound axis.

Fuck, fuck–why did it have to do this? Why can’t things ever be easy for me? This isn’t a fucking novel!

To spite his complaints, he felt it tip back further, as his weight pulled it forward slightly. Rha wasted no time in fumbling through the pouch secured at his waist. A pick! He gripped it in one hand, thought about saying a prayer, decided it would be a waste of time, but maybe he really needed it, but really, he was wasting more time debating, whatever, okay, jumping now, and swung himself off onto the wall.

He didn’t expect to make it.

He missed the cliff ledge, as he expected.

He jammed in the pick and slid, as he expected.

He stopped, rather than the pick coming loose and him plummeting to his death.

He did not expect that.

He did expect when the ship plummeted, twisting and coming free of it being lodged and slid the rest of the way before breaking free and falling to the waters below, screeching and groaning all the way. He didn’t expect it to come so close to his head. It clipped his fucking ear! 

Rha dangled there for a moment, in awe at having survived, before his wits returned. He dug out a second pick and jammed it into the rock, then struggled to free the first. He’d repeat the motion, over and over, climbing steadily until, finally, he managed to get to the outcropping he’d spotted earlier. He pulled himself up and rolled onto his back with a shaky sigh. He’d just, rest here for awhile.

His head fell to the left, as he sighed in relief–but it caught in his throat, held there as a strangled cry, before releasing as an emphatic: “Fuck.”

The vase was resting on it’s side, unopened, unharmed, with nary a dent.

 Gods. Fucking. Damnit.

[franeridart]

what is your opinion on mineta?

A pretty neutral one? I don’t like him, but I don’t actively dislike him either since his type of character is just something I’m assuming Jump editors outright ask for considering they’re in every single shounen ever - mostly I just forget he exists tbh, which is rude but he’s really rude too so that’s fine lol he has his moments and I’m very lowkey hoping he’ll be developed and grow out of the walking trope he is (it’s just wishful thinking, probably)(I appreciate that Horikoshi writes his behaviour as something as disgusting as it is, tho, kudos to you Horikoshi) but as things stand right now I mostly roll my eyes at him and forget he’s a thing the moment he walks off screen haha

Anon said:I. LOVE. SHINSO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO DO I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:What did you think of the little todoiideku moments in the last chapter? :)

I CRIED literally, actual tears, I’m not making it up I love all three of them so much - Iida’s the most precious boy ever and Todoroki is wise and beautiful and them all offering food to Izuku to make him feel better was PURE 

but also waddup with Izuku suddenly saying he shouldn’t cry, he’s been crying since the beginning of the manga? It’s okay Izuku let it out

Anon said:how do you emotion

That depends on the emotion and what you want to do with it! How do you deal with it? How do you express it? How do you portray it? So many possibilities!

Anon said:That face Kaminari made when Bakugou called him stupid. My babyyyy

IT’S OKAY NARI HE DOESN’T MEAN IT okay he does but he’s just like that he probably just doesn’t remember your name - wait that’s making it worse isn’t it h e c k

Okay seriously tho have you ever noticed how the Baku/Kami interactions are weirdly similar to the Jirou/Kami ones it makes me laugh a lot why are your friends like that Kaminari why do you like them like that you masochistic bean

Anon said:I just want to say that I love your art. And the way you draw the one a kids makes my heart burst with overwhelming joy. It just makes my day to see them interact. Thank you for existing.

BOI ANON thank you for existing this is such a good ask thank you so so so much!!!!

Anon said:Hey! I thibk the english expression im looking for is wish you well! i hope you feel better, try to take care!! And i hope the rest of your day is better

Your English is more than fine and anyway I’m not native either so don’t worry about it!! And THANK YOU!!!! 

Anon said:I sent a message a while ago saying I had caught up with the BnHA manga when I had a concussion and your post about Baku and Kiri fighting made me realize Kiri's quirk woulda been damn nice to have when my partner threw me off of the mat. Why didn't I realize it before. Honestly it'd be super helpful in so many aspects of judo (that's how I got the concussion whoops) because he could like. Harden his neck and not get choked. Damn.

Haha yeah that’s why he’s good at what he does, isn’t it! It always felt weird to me in how little consideration Kirishima keeps his quirk, that’s, like, the best quirk a protector (aka an hero) could ever wish for, it’s so good keep your chin up nerd you’re the best !!!!!! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Anon said:Do people always demand art from you? That's ridiculous, and I'm so sorry people don't have any manners.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh this is such a sweet ask, thank you so much anon! But it’s fine, if I don’t like the tone in which stuff has been asked of me I just don’t draw it! And I do have “suggestions are fine” written in my bio after all, so it’s not like I mind people asking as long as they remember I don’t promise anything haha

Anon said:am in love I can't. I love ur style really much especially how u draw Kacchan. srsly u are the rare ppl who draws him perfectly! also I love dat Kuroo icon u have

GOSH thank you!!! so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *O* I’m so so happy you like how I draw him!!!!! AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Are there any other couples who have fascinations with each other's hands? (I would be thrilled if kyoutani had a thing for yahaba's)

Oops, sorry anon but the hand thing for me is something specific to the KiriBaku - I mean, it’s not like I can’t see anyone else with a fascination of that kind, but in the bnha manga Bakugou actually held Kirishima’s hand in a pretty important moment (the chapter was literally called “Taking his hand” I c r y) so now every time I think about hands my first reaction is bakushima and I kind of get stuck there SO applying it to other ships probably isn’t happening any time soon haha

[toddlazarski]

Discovering Alambres in Milwaukee

Shepherd Express

Beef or pork? Tripa? What about lengua? I can’t live without at least trying every chorizo presented to me. And with any decent Mexican restaurant even pollo should be on the table for discussion—hinting at the biggest problem within the greatest, highest-varietal world cuisine: What do you order when you want everything?

Anyone with the maybe embarrassing experience of eating out with me at a proper Mexican spot has probably witnessed, with some gastrointestinal wonder, or maybe a guffaw, a personal solution to the conundrum. It is what I’ve long deemed the “entree-plus” method. What you do is order, say, a torta dinner, but then, politely holding your finger up to indicate to the waitress you are not yet done with your wish list, also ask for a couple of tacos. For the side. Maybe get the shrimp diablo, and team it with a simple desebrada number. Try the bistec ranchero, but with a sidecar of cecina. Possibilities become endless, but within, the basic premise is simple: to run the meat gamut, as much as possible, exponentially increase your lipid-and-sauce variations, skip the fear of missing out, make lunch a cultural deep dive, in the process achieving your Epicurean best self, spinning life into a fete of curiosity, not restraint, and turning the table into one of those fashionably messy, rustic Bon Appetit cover photo shoots.        

But what if the answer to the ubiquitous meat question, with all the options, all the exotic-sounding proteins, is, more simply—in that annoying social media vernacular vain—“Yes, please!”  

Enter the Mexico City specialty known as the Alambre. Spanish for “wire,” the word is indeed rooted in a meat combo cooked on a skewer. But it is a shish kabob in spirit only. In the real world it exists as a single plate amalgamation, a meat party, that is actually more like a sizzling late-night drunk skillet of all the most satisfying things found in the furthest crevices of the fridge. Among the multitude varietals, the basic offering mixes steak, chopped bacon, bell peppers, onions, melty cheese. Chorizo is a common contributor as well. Ham can sometimes be considered a healthy alternative—which tells you much about the nature of the dish. Avocado is also a usual suspect. But remember, as it tells itself every morning when looking in the mirror, that is good fat. A blank slate for Fieri-level exploration when sided by tortillas and some salsa, the alambre is a vessel of a DIY taco tour through a good Mexican grocery store.  

My introduction came on 25th and Greenfield Avenue, where the sadly-shuttered El Canaveral once specialized in the plate. It is a meal that still exists like something out of Proust, the memory triggering hunger daydreams of winter nights spent hunkered over a posse of a meat pile, a craggy, cheesy sponge for their quintet of creamy salsas, each building on the last in hue, heat, and intensity. What was truly unique, in those Canaveral salad days, was I only felt the need to order one thing. One word, even, levied to the waitress, enough to hold all the Mexican meal promise one might reasonably ask for. I often bemoan the loss, wistfully ponder the empty husk of the handsome and cozy corner barroom, consider the death of all that smoking meat waft potential. But in loving pursuit of those bite memories, I set out to chronicle what remains, to capture at least a loose roadmap of Milwaukee’s best single-steaming-plate Mexican marriage of foodstuffs.    

4. Kompali Taqueria

Maybe the most telling thing about restaurateurs Karlos Soriano and Paco Villar is how little, through maybe two dozen meals, I’ve ever found wrong with either of their two spots. First, they put too much pineapple on the pastor offering at Kompali, the new taco joint. Second, as a waitress once chastised me for a request, scolding, “I only have two hands!” it seems they can’t find great help at C-Viche. That is it. Everything else—from the aji verde sauce to the pork beans to the esquite to the pisco sours to the succulent beef hearts fit for even those squeamish about, “wait, this is heart?”—feels somehow  in turns regional and personal, and like it’s been consummated with a sense of thoroughness and chile peppered-love. C-Viche is really just a couple of brunch misfires short of upholding my contention that it is maybe the most interesting, if not flat out best, restaurant in Milwaukee.

Which is to say their second, stripped down, taco and tequila-focused Brady Street replacement of Cemapazuchi is certain to deliver on the basics. And it does: from the distinctly salty, cumin-tinged, creamy tomato salsa that comes with the chips, to the smoky chipotle mayo-textured blend that comes with the tacos, it is a happy ideal of Mexican cooking that Cempazuchi only really seemed to be that one time on TV. They also personify an ideal starter alambre for the uninitiated—in prefab taco form. Diced carne asada tumbles uniformly with tender chopped ham and slightly crunchy bacon bits, everything topped with onion and bell pepper before being swathed in smooth goo queso and swaddled neatly inside a homemade tortilla. While the rest of the list here strive for something between gut burstage and a drunken munchie sate, this is a happy, reasonable start not only to an alambre tour, but to a night out. With little threat of overwhelming, without grease-bombing, with nary a worry as to not having room for more drinks, dessert. In fact maybe that’s a third complaint. Or it would be if I wasn’t so happy filling up with their housemade chorizo, the aforementioned pastor, etc.  

3. Al Pastor

Despite the nachos and burritos and ‘Stallis zip code, the menu at Al Pastor does specifically promise “Mexico City style cuisine,” and alongside the eponymous pork stuff of taco dreams and the likes of bistec en chile de arbol, the alambre is presented, simply, honestly, as a “delicious combination.”     

Thin folds of tender skirt steak, with prominent sear marks, generous seasoning and decent snap, dominant the taste swirl of the mashup plate. These are buoyed by bits of salty ham—some grilltop-blackened, some fleshy; tiny granules of charred chorizo, lending a greasy beating heart to the whole; semi-charred wedges of red and green bell peppers; and bright Oaxacan cheese, half-melted throughout, gooping and draping everything like a tangled favorite blanket. Hunks of pineapple occasionally turn up too, contrasting the saltiness, lending some sweet bright sunshine, even to a barren block of Burnham in February.

It’s a richly savory meat sludge, all aspects breaking up under fork pressure, colliding, tussling, coming together in earthy, brackish bites, steaming and begging to be patted atop lightly griddled, sturdy flour tortillas. Ratchet everything up with a surprisingly zinging fresh jalapeno salsa, or a fiery vinegar-laced, arbol-based red. It’s emblematic of when food writers, like sportwriters, feel the need for that old adage of the package being greater than the sum of the parts. How else to describe the Giannis, Middleton, Bledsoe ball movement to open-three mindflow? The roll, the collective rhythm, the push and pull, the unexpectedness, the jazz, that extra-sensory unity. Like the Bucks, the alambre might be the one seed of Mexican cuisine. A “delicious combination” indeed.   

2. La Flamita

It’s like a scene out of a movie: the know-everything writer, pushing big nerd glasses back up on the bridge of his cook-bookish nose, trying out a bit of show-off Spanish, placing a knowing order, within which to don worldliness, after which to scribe a wise pen-sermon full of clever phrases and expensive-sounding words, is stopped in his cocky tracks with a simple question— “What meat?” Yes, apparently you can improvise, personalize your alambre here at this white truck parked on 20th and National. And while such off-balance thinking has led to many problematic orders through the years, it’s clear this is a dish that could only be messed up by a vegetarian. This is the thought the man in the order window must have, half-heartedly agreeing, nodding, patiently waiting, as I audibly recite every possible roster variation that comes to mind, eventually arriving on an All-Star team of asada, pastor, and chorizo.   

This is a to-go order of homogenized harmony, everything neatly, uniformly diced, melded, a goopy white cheese center holding the whole family together with the droopy, loving arms of a domineering grandmother. Nothing gets too far away, each bite seemingly packed with equal part onion and bell pepper hunks, velvety melty queso, and, in my iteration, craggly cow and greasy pork two different ways. Ignore the rote verde salsa in lieu of a truly mean-spirited, arbol-centered sauce. It lends a bit of heated vitality, vigor throughout all that togetherness. This eye-opening feel is furthered by full exploration of the bag. That tin-foiled brick down there isn’t more tortillas. It is a steaming baked potato. Soft, starchy, you can neatly crumble it atop the meat mix, or maybe refry a bit for next-morning eggs. Either way, it’s happily sponge-like, more salsa-soaking than french fries, and turns out to be an ingenious little carb-y loaf addition to the big styrofoam protein package. It’s also another surprising glimpse of the peripatetic nature of taco trucking—the road is a mighty teacher.

1. La Guelaguetza

The most delightfully-named taqueria in the city—the truck on 15th and Burnham takes its handle from an annual indigenous cultural festival in Oaxaca—has a handy translation placard for available meats: “lengua” is “tongue,” “cabeza” is “head,” “Alambres” is… “Alambres.”  Meaning, seemingly, that there is no translation. As in, if you don’t speak the language, you won’t get it. It reminds me of a time a well-meaning prankster member of my Mexican in-law tribe tried to let me in on the ultimate Spanish cuss, the one to use if anybody is really giving you a hard time. When I asked my wife to explain what it meant, I didn’t think the translation sounded so offensive. Until, later, at one of those extended relative gatherings, when, backed into a corner, being mocked for my broken espanol, fumbling for a face-saving zinger, I let the unmentionable phrase slip in front of an abuela, a tia, and a gaggle of cousins. All eyes on me, mouths aghast in collective terror and befuddlement, with crickets suddenly echoing around the awkward silence, it was like Lenny Bruce joking about Adolf Hitler. I haven’t been invited to a family funeral since.

What can’t be lost or misconstrued in translation is taste. So if you stumble through the three-syllables, you will be rewarded with an alambre of crispy asada, tender pastor from a bulbous stationary vertical spit of seasoned pork, and bacon wedges in varying levels of doneness. The multitude meat stuffs exist in loose, pepper-inflected affiliation, messily inconsistent chops leave incongruous bites—some onion-y, some gooey, all meaty and salty and dense. Such variety is the spice of life, as they say. Which is not true. Salsa is the spice of life. And the rojo here is blood red and angrily smoky, thick enough to hold its own on the mass, spicy but short of overpowering, so that the massive container of chopped, pickled habanero and onion sitting on the counter should still be utilized. Though, in the spirit of those male enhancement drug disclaimers, maybe consult with a doctor if there is any history of heart problems. A crumbly baked papa also sits atop the two-meal mash. And by now, it feels like, why not? It’s a spongy starch addition that is better to soak it up—the debris, the salty carnage, all the messy drip of life itself. Piquant, earthy, foreign, comforting, a concentrated slop of intricacy and nuance, the whole thing is really a beautiful sense bastardization, an amalgamation that only leaves trace amounts of grease guilt.     

Sometimes saying things you don’t understand really pays off.  

[obviousleeanonymous]

Chutes and Ladders CH2

Summary: To climb to the top, you gotta fall down a chute or two or three or four… and break a few bones. But it’s okay, 'cause time heals all wounds. Right?

Chapter One

Chutes and Ladders Chapter Two: What an Awkward Fish

Not a clown, at least. From the furtive glances you stole, the blue haired man possessed a definitive boyish quality. Handsome, with nary a doubt, but room to grow still. Or perhaps his youthful visage would linger for many years hence. You grit your teeth—he still did not put on the seat belt!

Your hand halted momentarily over the radio dial before switching on the heat. Though the setting remained quite low, the sound blaringly sliced through the uncomfortable silence. You disliked new clients for this very reason—glancing at the time—you really did not like new clients at 2:17 in the morning. Should you speak, or wait for him first? Did he know his destination? Or did he not want the heat on—

“Is the heat okay?” you blurted.

God, why did you always speak your mind so untimely, so clumsily, so unprofessionally?

“Oh, it’s quite fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between long, slender fingers. Great, now you clearly annoyed him. Was he a model—you wagered on a hand model.

Biting your lip, you caught yourself before you fell further into tommyrot-ery.

“Know the coffee shop on 43rd Street?” If he seemed bothered, his face revealed nothing. He was probably great at poker, and played on the weekends in a speakeasy. With bourbon. He doesn’t smoke because you cannot catch the scent of tobacco on him.

“No, but I can get you there in a crash and a flash, Mr. Sweet Mask…” Why did he have such a weird name? Did he prefer a different title? “...Sir.”

He chuckled melodiously. Bets changed from hand model to singer... or former singer turned hand model. He definitely sang cheesy love songs from two generations ago in the shower. For sure. “Just ‘Sweet Mask’, if you would.”

Shit. You did it again!

Nodding, wordlessly because you lacked faith in your mouth-spewing, you began to drive into the heart of A-City. Compared to the bustle of day, traffic proved marginal, practically nonexistent, at best. All the better, for it gave you ample time to regulate your breathing and curb the glares at the seat belt not belted.

After roughly ten minutes of mundane maneuvering, you idled in front of Queegquegs. Sweet Mask, wearing ginormous sunglasses that screamed “I’m famous so look at me”, sauntered into the coffee shop. Regardless, you would remember the place—not too many choice shops operated twenty four hours, after all.

For all intents and purposes spacing out, you regarded the large intersection of 43rd and Anpan. Desolate, empty, serene. Yet, only a few feet further, you saw the remnant debris of the carnage from sometime earlier that day or late the day prior—a monster attack, for what else could it be in this day and age? By now, most of it appeared clear, or rather, by comparison to last you glimpsed it. This time, you did not turn your gaze.

When did monsters and heroes become so commonplace?

People died yesterday.

As you tried to find another distraction, you spotted a tall building in which a large segment had newer paint and construction—people surely died when that structure became so compromised. If a Demon or Dragon Disaster happened, did the populace even have a chance to evacuate?

You wondered how many parents said they would be right back and never say “I’m home.”

“D—” Thankfully, Sweet Mask opened the backseat passenger’s door, effectively killing the words from your mouth. Damn your word-sputtering.

The interior smelled of wonderfully brewed coffee, and, judging by the small size of the container and bold aroma, likely legitimate espresso. The temptation to garner your own beverage of the roasted bean variety proved strong, almost too strong, but you were working. To give in would be disrespectful to your client. And he still made no attempt to use a seat belt.

“Have I done something to offend you, or do you always glare, miss driver?” Shit. He caught you—fix it, now. Deflect the question.

“N-no. Not really. But you haven’t put on your seat belt. That’s illegal.” Change the subject! “Why do you wear your sunglasses at night? Doesn’t that draw more attention?”

You kept prattling, barely even breathing. You needed to change the goddamn topic! “You must work mad late, right? Are you a hand model? I hope you are because—I mean—I’m super happy you’re not a clown. They just aren’t funny, you know? Not to say that you aren’t funny. Are you?”

Sweet Mask took a long sip of espresso, and you just had to add, “I know I’m an awkward fish… Please don’t sue me.”

And then he choked, spitting the drink in an undignified manner.

“Or die. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now. Are you okay?”

+_____+_____+

Several days after, mercifully, not losing your job, you stopped by the local Wells Embargo branch in A-City. You expected the venture to be relatively quick, for a bank anyway. But. Well. Bank robbers.

And they sucked at it.

Sporting tacky leather jackets, with no weapons drawn or otherwise, the group of three ordered everyone against the walls, kneeling. Everyone complied, including yourself, but you simply wondered how they spoke with green grasshopper faces.

After almost fifteen minutes of the would-be-crooks unsuccessfully attempting to open an oversized safe, you stood up, calmly walking to the exit. Hell, you were several feet away before the grasshopper-man realized and grabbed your arm in a weak-sauce grip. Why did everyone listen to them? They had no weapons. Not to say of the biggest mistake they made—

“Where are you going, girl?”

“How do you talk, Mr. Grasshopper Face. I mean, I’m going to work.”

He growled, or more accurately, chirped. “Don’t disrespect us Kamen Raiders! And we are cricket men. Do I need to hurt you, little girl?”

“With what,” you deadpanned. Nope, he still failed to grasp the situation.

“Our Kamen Bikes,” he stated though it sounded much more like an unsure question. Even his grip loosened, indicating his doubt.

“Okay, Mr. Kamen Raider. Look over there, please.” You pointed at different segments of ceiling sporting black half spheres. “CCTVS. Outside, with your bikes that you threatened me with, are more CCTVS at every corner. And the Hero Asso—”

“—They won’t make it!” He yelled, rudely interrupting you.

“...They don’t have to make it.” You shrugged at him. His antennae drooped. Confused? You continued, “It’s not very smart to rob a bank when the police station is literally across the street. Look, the good policemen even got your bikes.”

+_____+_____+

After the police escorted the Kamen Raiders to their new home less than fifty feet away in pretty silver bracelets, you went up to the somewhat shaken teller. “Hi. I need to make a withdraw from my savings account.”

The frazzled lady tried to hold a pen, but her grip proved much too shaky. “Oh, if only Sweet Mask saved us…”

Snapping a finger in front of her face, she jolted, and finally looked at you. “Can I get my money, please? I gotta get back to work soon.”

+_____+_____+

Knowing full well that you would be certifiably late picking him up, you pulled over, hazard lights flashing ominously.

Then you screamed at the top of your lungs, not giving a hot damn if people heard through the windows or not.

Sweet Mask. Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask. He was a hero. Good thing that, 'cause heroes don't murder people. Right?

You were so screwed. “Fuck.”