#told y'all i'd still be alive after a year

[erebird]

I’M ON THE RUN AND YOU’RE HOME ALONE | 𝔪. 𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔬

pairing/s: Manjiro Sano x gn!reader

genre: hurt/no comfort, established relationship, angst

warning/s: none

wc: 530+

Note: I didn't have a specific timeskip in mind but mikey is aged up in this fic! I felt like my characterization wouldn't fit if he was 14-15 here so it’s up to you to imagine what arc this takes place in besides the toman arc :)

It was late and quiet in your shared apartment. The entrance door opening could barely be heard. Your lover, Manjiro, came back from an awful day. He was rarely ever filled with joy anymore, but this day was worse than the previous days he had experienced. 

“I’m home.” is what Manjiro usually yelled after entering the house to let you know that he was back, but he stopped since he’s been coming home at ungodly hours recently. Hours when you were already fast asleep after forcing yourself to stay up and wait until he came back to you.

Setting foot in the bedroom you both slept in, Manjiro stared at your deep sleeping figure. The hued lamp was lit up on his side of the room, a habit you did when he hadn’t come home yet. He wonders how you got so unlucky to love and stay with him. Even he knows it himself, he treated you better when you two were still children.

He softly sat on his side of the bed, still staring at you, adoration and guilt in his eyes. Manjiro loves you. Hell, he loves you more than anything. He isn’t as affectionate as most would be, but he really does cherish you as the light of his life. Your kindness and compassion never faltered even after all these years of hell putting up with all the pain he’s felt. It makes him sick knowing such a sweetheart like you witnessed every terrible deed he’s done even after doing everything he can to keep you away from the dangerous side of his life. You just never went away, you stuck to him like an annoying pest that needed his attention all the time. However, Manjiro knew that in reality, it was the other way around. He was the annoying pest that desperately clung to you and unnoticeably begged for your affection. 

Though he never verbally said it, he needed you. He believes that he needs you more than you need him. Maybe that's why after all these years, he’s too selfish to let you go for your own good. When everyone is slowly leaving him, you’re all he has left.

“Mikey…” You mumbled. He gently swiped your hair away from your face to tuck behind your ear. Now your face was clear on full display for him to see. It’s not the first time he’s heard you say his name in your sleep. It’s always “Mikey” or “‘Jiro” that leaves past your pretty lips. 

Now that he thinks about it, it’s been a long time since the two of you shared a kiss. 

Manjiro looks at your lips once more before hesitantly moving down to give you a soft peck that lasts not more than a few seconds. 

Sitting back up, he sighs out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. 

Not once did he stop looking at you. Not even while he’s shedding light tears, an action with his intent to apologize for being so absent. 

A whisper that could barely be heard leaves Manjiro’s trembling mouth.

“I’m too consumed with my own life.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

I'm seeing a lot of people saying they're excited to see Charles realize he's in love with Edwin, but...y'all... I think he knows? The whole season he seems like he knows exactly how he feels about Edwin, but was denying himself the romantic aspect of those feelings. And there are SO many reasons for why he'd be doing so.

First off, he has said he doesn't want to end up like his dad. I'd wager he doesn't want to have a serious romantic relationship with anyone because he's worried he'll end up treating them like his dad treated him and his mum. I do think he had feelings for Crystal, but maybe he didn't believe it could become something lasting. She is living after all. He very well may have figured she'd grow up and move on to someone else, but at least he'd have had a girlfriend for a little while, almost like he would've if he hadn't died.

Similarly, as well as wanting a girlfriend/ partner, he may have always thought he HAD to have a girlfriend like lots of people think they HAVE to find a significant other of the opposite sex to settle down with like they're expected to. For someone who clearly wants to be alive, it's understandable for him to be reaching for what he was taught to be the "normal" experience for normal teenage boys.

It doesn't help that his dad very well could've been homophobic, so Charles never felt like it was safe for him or the boys he might've crushed on. Not to mention, it was the 80s, so he was probably being taught boys liking boys was wrong and/or would get you killed, even if his dad wasn't the one saying it.

I feel it's also worth mentioning that he's known Edwin for 30 years. That's nearly twice as long as he had been alive. Edwin had shown Charles a kindness he'd seen little to none of before and then kept being kind to him. He was unapologetic and sometimes harsh about voicing his opinions, but also listened to Charles'. He knew what it was like to hide things about yourself like Charles did. Charles may have even clocked Edwin was gay from very early on.

I headcanon he probably more or less went from ignoring it cause it's Edwin, to feeling weird about it but not showing it, to getting curious and learning more about it, to looking up "how to be a good ally" to accepting Edwin and reassuring himself that if Edwin does come out to him, he will make sure he knows that Charles will always accept him for who he is, and that this wouldn't change how much they mean to each other nor the respect they have for each other. (Really, he seemed so ready for that confession. It wouldn't surprise me if some planning went into what he was gonna say. Just didn't expect it to happen in Hell.)

Anyway, my point is that Charles seems to have put Edwin on something of a pedestal. He sees him as kind and good, and Charles will protect him with everything he has so that he may remain so. Charles can't help but love Edwin, but he will make sure that love is from a selfless place. Partially so he won't be taking anything Edwin shouldn't have to give, but also because he may not think Edwin would want to give or take anything to or from Charles if he saw the things Charles hates so much about himself which possibly includes: all the things his dad said was wrong with him, everything he grew up being told was wrong with people like him, all the things he sees of his dad in himself, and possibly more.

AND! Edwin is an upper-class(?) white boy from 1916. Charles is a queer punk from India. He may have thought Edwin would have had some prejudices against him even subconsciously for a while when they first met, which would have also been an acceptance-of-feelings deterrent.

Ultimately, if it turns out Charles also needed over 30 years of looking at his friend like that to figure out he like likes Edwin, I'll still love it. But I'd also be surprised. Boy was blushing and giggling for Edwin since they first met even while dying of fucking hypothermia. I swear.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep6 Musings: Loumand (Spoilers)

Armand stressed me TF out this episode; I can't believe they had me yelling at my favorite TVC book character this much on this dang show. But I still stand by what I said about him having good intentions--

--but by god does this man make the worst decisions for the best reasons.

FACTS, I can't stand modern art. The first vamp capitalist, faaaacts.

The first vamp pilot--Louis WANTS to fly now!? Or maybe it's just the Cloud Gift that freaks him out; a vampire taking him up without his control/consent?

I cannot BELIEVE they're banging in Armand's office right in front of that flimsy glass door--that's why the coven hated y'all. 🤦 Rubbing in their faces that Lou can do whatever--and whoever--he wants.

OF COURSE that mofo was gonna say No--DUH! Lou, Armand don't want Lestat's spawn, he wants Lestat's SEED, there's a DIFFERENCE. 😅

He. Didn't. NO. The attitude in Lou's neck rolls had me QUAKING. AMC is leaning IN to Armand withholding more than Lestat, jfc. 😬

It was NOT ok, Armand. That was your cue to be part of the family, and join Lou as he went to the IVF clinic to get his eggs fertilized with YOUR seed, MORON. 🤦 Y'all could've been the Le Russe/Romanus family! Now they'll always be Lioncourts! 😩 Alexa, play Rolling in the Deep, cuz they could've had it all! 😔🎵 🎶

☝️ SAY IT LOUDER! ☝️

Roleplay don't mean ISH outside the bedroom--just cuz Armand's a subby bottom don't mean he didn't hold ALL the power the whole time; eff what Lou said, asked or "ordered." I said back in S1: Les & Armand HUMOR Lou, and let him pretend to be in charge (X X). It's called POWER IMBALANCE.

It looks like childbirth gone wrong.

Lou going from battered wife depression in S1 to post-partum-depression in S2. 😔 So Loius tried to kill himself again? By bleeding out? Throwing up all the blood he drank from Madeleine. Dang.

What "you did to yourself" is a little inaccurate, considering it was YOUR insensitive words that triggered him and made him want to yeet himself into the sun! This is what I always mean by Armand taking advantage of Louis' agency, cuz Louis was CLEARLY not in his right mind at the time to be asking for anything THAT serious, which he NEVER would've done elsewise.

So, 3 days after Louis' failed suicide attempt, he asked for his mind to be wiped--cuz he was still TRAUMATIZED, Armand! 🤦

Lou got high as a kite (if he was ever sober in SanFran.....)

Nearly killed the first human who managed to get anywhere towards helping him process his PTSD--if not just VENT a bit; as he hadn't spoken Lestat's name in 20+ years by that point.

Vented all his resentment to Armand for being hella boring

Was triggered by Armand telling Louis Claudia never loved him, wtf

Tried to kill himself by burning himself alive in the first sunrise he'd seen since Paul's suicide

Burnt to a crisp, he has to watch Armand torture TF out of Daniel, begging for his life & powerless to do anything

Then lay there all crispetty cracketty crunchetty and hear Armand have a effing telephone call with LESTAT

He even told OIdmaniel he'd been in so much pain he blanked out

Armand said drugs did a number on Dan's mind--Louis DIED an alcoholic; he was turned while he was drunk, and I bet mental illness runs in his family, too. So what damage was done to LOUIS' mind when he was in SanFran getting stoned every night b4 you scrambled his brain, Armand?!

Daniel's mind is sharp, yes, but his body sure ain't. Armand caused Daniel's Parkinsons--if it's even really Parkinsons, and not just the consequences of 6 days of bodily & mental torture, as his arm was crushed, head bashed, nose bled, and muscles were contorted. "To protect me, from YOU, my Molloy"--we been knew. "Why did I owe YOU my shame...my one act of cowardice?" Oh, you mean selling Claudia & Louis down the effing river?!

I'd bet money that Armand was so shook seeing Louis' reaction to what he said about Claudia hating Louis, and was so terrified of being on permanent suicide watch, that he was RELIEVED to have the chance to wipe Louis' memory, and soften the blow of his own culpability in WHY Claudia died hating Louis. Cuz she was HAPPY at that cafe with y'all! What happened AFTERWARDS, Armand!?

Why would vamps cheer and drink with alcohol; y'all shoulda known something was up; with this JUDAS at the effing table.

Why tf is Armand sleeping in Claudia's coffin? I guess Loumand doesn't share Louis' the way Loustat did. But better question: Why TF are they still in that flat?! I'd've left Paris for good; that was stupid of them to stay in coven territory. But I guess we know why Armand didn't insist they leave. 😒

Louis and Madz have tension. :(

This poor boy just CANNOT help himself, LOL.

LOLOLOLOLOL! Madz is NOSEY, spill all the tea, girl, yaaas! XD (The bass in Lou's voice when he says BIIIIIG HEAD nearly put me in a stretcher--omfg it was IMPROVISED!?)

👀 Yeah, he knows, alright. Knows you'll forgive him, Lou.

Cuz he felt he had nothing left if he didn't have you.

Cuz Santiago was right:

Speak of the devil, carrying the effing burlap sacks.

I could never sit there that calm and talk about all that without lunging over and pulling every follicle out of Armand's head.

Omg it's a matinee in DAYLIGHT, it's happening right then & there. 😭☀️

💀

[anexperimentallife]

Help a disabled, neurodivergent, interracial family get back to the US for medical treatment

After three bouts of COVID and other medical issues over the past six years here in the Philippines, my health has deteriorated to the point at which I'm worried I won't get to watch my little girl grow up unless I can get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits for various surgeries and treatments.

Unfortunately, even with all y'all's help, @thesurestthing and I are still in debt from the two-year ordeal of fixing our daughter's stateless status, so we can't do this on our own. My little sister started a fundraiser for us, and there are a couple of other ways to help, as well. If you can't help, please reblog. Thank you! (The PayPal link takes the lowest fees, but whatever works for you is best!)

If you want more details, they're under the cut:

Six years ago, while still grieving the deaths of my adult sons and a painful breakup, I moved from the US to the Philippines with just what I could carry, in large part because it's actually possible to survive here on the pittance US disability pays. I had kind of given up on life and figured I would sort of drift off eventually. I wasn't going to kick my own bucket, mind you; I just wasn't going to try very hard to keep living. And I figured I'd just pass away someplace beautiful.

Soon after I got here, though, @thesurestthing (also American) started messaging me from the states, told me she was going to come to the Philippines and be my girlfriend (even though I told her no at first), and eventually joined me here. We had a baby under lockdown, and got married.

So now I had something to live for. (And most of y'all know the drama with the error on El's birth certificate that left her stateless and took almost two years and a lot of money to get fixed.)

But I have had health scare after health scare over the past few years, including three bouts of COVID (some of you remember the month I spent hooked up to an oxygen machine), two bouts of pneumonia, a persistent two-year foot infection that took surgery to clear up (and is going to require another surgery to keep cleared up), damage to my heart and scarring in my lungs from long covid, a literal hole in my throat that is growing bigger, a spine injury, joint injuries, osteo and rheumatoid arthritis, a traumatic brain injury that affects my memory and concentration, adhd, bipolar disorder, autism, and other issues.

(Not even getting into the dental stuff--Hope to be able to get that done before we go back, here where it's cheaper, because Medicare doesn't cover that.)

I'm terrified that I won't be alive to watch my little girl grow up unless I can get someplace where I can use my Medicare and VA health benefits.

An old friend of mine is a social worker and on the school board in a small Minnesota city with its own VA clinic, and has offered to help us get settled in there, but we still have to find a place to live (suitable for a couple that includes a physically disabled adult, and who have a toddler), some basic household goods, some cheap used transportation, and need to survive for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work.

Given our situation in general and the fact that right now my disability is our only income, we're probably looking at having to pay at least six months (or possibly an entire year) of rent up front in order to get anyplace to lease to us.

We can't stay with friends because every single stateside friend we have with a spare room also has a cat--and I have an anaphylactic allergic reaction to cats, meaning that I will literally die if I'm around a cat for too long. I've had to go to the ER because I slept in a room that had a blanket in the corner that a cat had momentarily lain on. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on massive doses of immunosuppressive drugs, which, well... The whole issue here is that I keep getting deathly ill, so suppressing my immune system even more is a non-starter. Oh, and Fel D 1, the protein secreted in cat dander, saliva, and waste, can stay even on hard surface for up to two years, and even longer on porous surfaces.

Again, if we weren't still in so much debt from El's birth certificate debacle, we might be able to do this at least mostly on our own. But as things stand, we can't do it on our own. We need your help.

If you read all of this, thank you very much. And again, if you can't give, please reblog.

For more medical details, check my Rob Gets Medical tag. For more details about Eleanor's birth certificate saga, check my Baby El tag.

[telomeke]

EUGENE LEE YANG IS LEAVING THE TRY GUYS

Eugene talks about how he's currently too stretched creatively, and is leaving the Try Guys to focus on his other projects. (He has two films in production, as well as a queer fantasy novel and a graphic novel in the works.) His departure does not appear to be happening with any rancor, but what he says about the difficulty in keeping up a public, onscreen persona is also very heartfelt and moving. Nonetheless, he's also kept the door open for guest spots with the Try Guys in the future. And he's only leaving after the current season, so we can still catch him in Try Guy videos for now.

Full transcript of the audio follows, if you'd like to speed read through:

- [Rachel] You ready? (Eugene sighs) - Dear friends, well, it's my time. I've wanted to have this heart to heart with y'all for quite a while now. It is with immense gratitude and unconditional love for Zach, Keith, our partners, our staff, and all of you who have supported us that I'm announcing my official departure from The Try Guys. After 10 profoundly impactful years, my time here on YouTube has come to an end. There's no version of this announcement in which I can properly express how emotional this moment is for me, how hard it is to close such a meaningful chapter of my life. But in the spirit of so much of my digital work, I'm gonna give it one last try.

I want to preface this by giving my heartfelt thanks to Zach and Keith, my bespectacled baby brothers, my tall and tiny nerd. I have no idea how we ended up on this wild journey together, but I couldn't have asked for better, smarter, weirder, funnier, and above all kinder individuals to have ridden alongside. It's been a great irreplicable honor that I will always treasure. And though our time in viral videos may be over, our friendship is forever. Even if I'll hate it when your spawn call me Guncle in the future, I shall train to become the best goddamn gay uncle in recorded human history.

Keith, you are such a shining light, truly the most physically gorgeous specimen alive with those long legs and huge mouth. After today, you are undeniably the hottest Try Guy. Zach, you're an absolute rock star. Every opinion you have is 100% correct, and I want to proclaim on record that I am the Letty Ortiz to your Dom... Guys, come on. I'm not saying all of this. - No, this is so much better than I ever imagined. Keep going, keep going. - Yes, the more emotional you get, the more everyone's gonna be okay with it. - Can you cry on cue? That would be so good for this. - Oh my gosh. Crying in the thumbnail. That'd be tits! Give it to us! (everyone laughs) - Rachel, will you please make them stop? - Yeah, you can't do this. It's a sincere video. You can't make him fake cry. - Okay. - Make him take off his shirt so we can objectify him one more time. - You being naked would be tits! (Zach laughs) - If y'all are gonna keep doing this, then just come over here and join me in presenting a few points. - Okay. So should we do the whole three guys one couch? - Absolutely not. - Dang. - Kind of invented the couch, but, okay, whatever.

- That being said, the three of us have always held a mutual, empathetic understanding about when the right time was for me to take a bow. - Some of you may have seen this coming for a while, as Eugene's schedule has gotten busier over the past few years. We thank you for your patience regarding a formal clarification. We wish we could have told you sooner, but certain circumstances outside of our control kind of challenged the three of us to come together in solidarity, and I'm very glad that we did. - Me too. So I'd like to reiterate, in case anyone misinterprets this as some kind of interpersonal ill will, that this is the furthest thing from drama. We have been through the worst version of that together. And all of my decisions have been made in consideration of what we built. And these two will always have my undying support, even if it happens to be from afar. - As you've witnessed with other notable goodbyes this year, there's a myriad of motivations for YouTubers to step away. Some are retiring, others are burnt out. Many have issues with the platform itself, as you've heard us talk about before. But again, our shows, they're not leaving YouTube at all. - Yeah, we're staying. I mean, he's leaving. - He's leaving. - I'm leaving. They're staying. But it's still a very personal decision for me, which I'll expand on later in this video. Rest assured the three of us have been discussing and planning these major changes together for a very long time now. - Of course, there's really no perfect time for this. This was always gonna be bittersweet, and we know that. We agreed though that now makes the most sense considering all the exciting new things that are happening at the company and in our lives. - Speaking of which, I just wanna say that I'm so, so, so proud of these two and our staff for your vision. Did I just elbow your stomachs? - Yeah, elbowed my belly. - I'm trying to express affection. - It was good. - You're almost there. - What do I do instead? If I go down... - If you go down it will be less affectionate or more affectionate, depending on the type of affection you like to give. - You were telling us how proud you are. - I was. Okay. Speaking of which, I am so, so proud of these two and our staff for your vision and hard work for the next era of 2nd Try. Now one of our long-term goals has always been to use the privilege of our platform to expand into a wider cast of diverse voices. - So we like to think that we're not really losing Eugene, but we're gaining so many more perspectives that deserve the opportunity to shine. However, we cannot let Eugene go without filming one last season of classic Try Guys videos. - And you can watch those episodes starting tonight at 2ndtry.tv. They're also gonna be here available on YouTube for free at a later time. Either way, I'm gonna miss you, buddy. - Yeah, 'cause, you know, we love you. - Oh. I love you all too. Come here. Come here. - Okay. - Come here. - Let's go for it. - This is a real one. - This is nice. - All right, now, if you would be so kind, I'd like to spend my last moments here with our beautiful, incredible audience. - Makes sense. - Cool. - [Zach] Okay. - I... (Keith and Zach giggle) - [Keith] Wee! - [Zach] Woo! Where do you wanna get lunch? - I'm the one leaving. This doesn't make sense. - [Zach] Oh, it's so bright. - [Keith] Oh my god. - It's fine. Okay. I'll wait till their bit's done. How are they gonna get back inside?

I want to be fully transparent about my reasons for leaving YouTube. And some of these have been difficult for me to find the confidence to express, but y'all deserve a comprehensive explanation. Well, first, in regards to my time, which is the primary issue we've cited, yes, I have become enormously inundated with work. I'm the busiest I've ever been in my entire life, and I'm so, so thankful to be committing my blood, sweat, and tears into projects that mean the world to me. Projects that have been in rigorous development for many years, which I'll elaborate more on in a bit. Now, as you know, once they required my undivided attention, I couldn't appear as often as I used to in videos. And it hasn't gone unnoticed how much my gradual withdrawal has upset some of you. And I am truly sorry for that. To express this as simply as possible, working full-time here became untenable, and it's evident that I can't continue keeping one foot in. So this amorphous arrangement where people end up asking the very fair question, "Is Eugene even a Try Guy anymore?" that will only disappoint all parties involved, especially you, the viewers who have stood by us. So for clarity's sake, we've decided to establish a clean break because clean breaks are ultimately better for the healing process. And I sincerely hope to guest star in future videos, and I don't wanna risk them being tainted by any embitterment. I want us to collectively look forward to those reunions with joy.

Now onto what I've been working on. My primary passions are writing and directing in the film and literary spaces. And my focus has always been on fiction, behind the camera and the pen. And that has never changed. And to hope to achieve any success in those spaces, gosh, it requires a lifetime of commitment. And first, my feature film. I've been writing and developing what will be my directorial debut for some time now. And we are in the active stage of packaging, and I am thrilled to be bringing it to life. The incomparable creatives at Killer Films believed in my script and have been working tirelessly with me for the past few years to get to this critical point. And I can't share more yet, but believe me when I say that it is the unbridled expression of my soul, and I have never been more determined and inspired. Now if you're unfamiliar with the industry, it's an exceedingly rare and blessed opportunity to be able to, one, get a movie produced at all, and two, gain the trust of others as a filmmaker. It requires 110% of my investment, both physically and emotionally. And I'm finally at a place in my journey as an artist to tackle this with unwavering conviction in my vision. And on top of that, the same can be applied to the literary world. I hold tremendous reverence for the writing process and am committed to proving myself as an author. So many aren't afforded this extraordinary opportunity, and I really don't want to squander it. As some of you know, I've been hard at work writing my novel, which is the first in an epic queer fantasy duology with the brilliant folks over at Macmillan and Feiwel & Friends. Due to certain unforeseen circumstances, we've had to push the release date. So you can expect it to be available next year in 2025, and I cannot wait for you to read it. Separately, I've also been writing my first graphic novel with Vault Comics, a twisted horror fantasy musical titled "Buckaroo". And you can expect more news about that and many other developments I can't mention yet in the very near future. My devotion is to creating original stories that will fundamentally thrive in other mediums.

This all brings me to a crucial message that I humbly want to emphasize. While yes, these projects are time consuming, I haven't necessarily prioritized them because I view the digital space as somehow beneath them. No, no. I have worked here online proudly for a decade and will always champion how profound and spectacular this medium can be. But after this past decade of work, of being invited into your homes, of having the privilege of getting to know so many of you, I've come to terms with the fact that this simply isn't the right space for me. The internet can be a fun, rewarding, fantastic place where many creatives shine, including my colleagues who are so, so talented at what they do. In truth, more often than not, I've experienced the opposite effect and leaving will be the best decision for preserving my mental health.

Now it makes me wildly uncomfortable to divulge all of this as I don't want to come off like I'm complaining. I can never stop repeating how deeply fortunate and thankful I am to have ever, ever been on this platform. But I'm going to try to open up as eloquently as possible because I really do care about all of you watching who might have come to care about me. I was always a private person, which has continually been at odds with the demands of being an online personality. Relatability, vulnerability, accessibility, all keywords you're familiar with about what makes a great YouTuber. Unfortunately, these weren't second nature to me, even though I tried my best. I really tried. I already contend with a complex relationship with my identities, so to have to casually discuss and publicize them at length, often in a positive and humorous manner, was exceptionally tough. This is an unscripted comedy channel after all, and that is why I removed myself completely from podcasting. I was trying to find ways to set boundaries and protect myself. But as someone who heavily saturated your screens for so many years, it might have come off as me growing distant and disinterested.

And if you have ever felt that way and if my colleagues have ever felt that way, then please know that that was never ever my intention. In all honesty, I was enduring more anguish, especially after involuntarily going viral for something so agonizing and demoralizing. Demand for my openness only grew. Strangers have been quick to tell me that I owe them my feelings and that I owe them my time to appear in content and that it's all just part of the job. Now contrary to the brave face I try to put on, I've always been profoundly aware of others' expectations. And if I'm unable to satisfy those expectations while staying true to myself, then maybe it's just not right. And many of you watching have probably experienced something similar in your own lives, that poignant moment when you know deep down that it's time for a change. Even if it hurts and even if it's hard, you know what? That change can be wonderful for everyone involved. And that is why I know that this simply isn't the right space for me and that that should be okay. I sincerely hope that it will be okay for all of you. And how I best express myself has been through narrative projects and ones that I can be fully immersed in, ones that can be guarded and intentional, long-term and precious, because that's where I'm most comfortable and energized, when I'm translating my identity, cultures, family history, and demons into work that can be dark and radical and strange and provocative. And while I also have made so, so many memories here that I'll always cherish, in the end, I can't stay. I wish I could be better at all of this for you and for my friends here at 2nd Try. I wish I found an alternative way to make this work because many YouTubers manage to flourish while protecting their peace. But the best, brightest version of myself is the me that can disappear behind my work, and that should be okay.

I chalk some of that up to how I've always had to navigate my privacy and presentation, which tends to be an integral part of the queer experience. It's why I've always relished experimenting with fashion as it's a way for me to transform into an alternate higher version of myself that's dazzling and powerful and self-possessed. You witnessed me learning how to paint my fantasies through clothing in real time. I bring this up because I don't want the summary of my issues to diminish the countless occasions where I have genuinely felt growth, connection, and happiness. A vital aspect of my time with y'all online was my coming out journey. That was undeniably raw and real. And I have grown so much louder and prouder about such a controlled, buried part of myself that was largely due to how emboldened I became because of so many of you out there, and I am eternally grateful for that.

I've also become uncompromisingly secure and appreciative of my representing of Asianness, of my Asianness. So much of that is thanks to the climate I was incredibly lucky to be a part of online where we carved out spaces to show more multifaceted, nuanced aspects of our unique backgrounds. To even be considered a voice in our community is an honor I hold dear every waking moment because I was someone who had always felt so voiceless before.

Fuck! I'm not supposed to cry. Overall, I've undergone an invaluable kind of education that could only happen through social media. It's inspired me to champion progressive values even when the world tries to stamp them out. I fully embrace the power of activism, and I'm more dedicated than ever to lead projects that explore and employ underrepresented talent. My time here with you has helped shape those principles, and I aim to never ever lose that energy. And although I've confessed the more stressful facets of my 10 years on YouTube, if I ever happened to make you smile or laugh or cry, then please know that you were instrumental in keeping me going 'cause you inspired me. Because regardless of the platform, to be able to share essential parts of myself, to garner an emotional response, and to have a spirited discourse, all of that qualifies as art. It constituted a meaningful relationship between us. And it ended up making me learn how to smile and laugh and cry too. And you, my dear friends, have my profound thanks for the opportunity and privilege to have been a part of your lives. Thank you, thank you, thank you. In conclusion, I want you to take away this one incontrovertible truth. You, all of the fans, and everyone here at 2nd Try could never be the reason I left because you were all the reason I stayed. Well, that's it. I hope y'all enjoy my final season of videos ahead, but this is my official sign off from the internet for the last time as a Try Guy. And as a guy who still has much to try, I know we'll meet again. Love, Eugene.

- That's a cut and that's a wrap on Eugene Lee Yang. (everyone applauds) Wait. Come hug him. - No! - [Rachel] Yes! - [Keith] We did. - No. - We didn't order you a lunch though. Are you cool with that? - One last time. - Taco salad. - Congrats. - I love you all. Now just the hugs to the camera. (everyone laughs) - [Rachel] Miss you most of all. - [Eugene] I'll miss you most of all.

[kopivie]

oh boy, a sentimental vent from cinna? again? shut up already! (i will not.)

so, i met my stepfather when i was about four years old.

i absolutely hate referring to him as my stepfather, btw. he's my father, dammit.

the funniest thing to me is the fact that i have a very distinct memory of the time we went to a waterside park when i was young and he taught me how to skip rocks. well, he tried to teach me. i couldn't do it then, and i still can't do it now, but i remember thinking he was so cool. that memory is tucked away inside my head in the safest place. but the funny thing about that memory is that i always swore i had known my dad for at least a year when we went to that park. turns out that wasn't the case – according to my mom, that was actually the very first day i had met him.

i feel like that says a lot about how i saw him from the get-go. i was still my mother's only child at the time, so if her boyfriends didn't get along with me, then she wasn't going to keep them around. apparently i told my mom that we absolutely had to see him again, so she trusted him and... the rest is history. as for my dad, he told me that that was the day he fell in love with me; i was his daughter from that moment forward.

i'm over here getting misty-eyed. i love my dad so much, y'all don't understand. 🥹

anyway! after that day, i'd go over to his apartment and he introduced me to video games! this was ~2005-2006, so the wii wasn't really out yet, but the dreamcast, playstation 2, and xbox already were.

i get my love of video games from my dad. in order to warm me up to being around him in close quarters, he let me play so many games — games that i hold near and dear to my heart to this day. marvel vs. capcom 2 for the dreamcast, jak and daxter for the playstation 2, and a litany of xbox games are the earliest ones i can remember. (specifically jet set radio future, halo 2, prince of persia, and dead or alive 2 for the xbox.)

and then, when the wii came out, he practically gave me full ownership of the console. i wasn't a nintendo kid initially, but i certainly was after 2006. super mario galaxy 1 and 2, mario sports mix, mario super sluggers, mario strikers charged, mario and sonic at the olympic games...

i really like mario games, okay?

god, it was so much fun being a kid. when he introduced me to his other kids, we bonded over video games! his youngest son at the time and i played so much that to this day, we still recall being super competitive and crazy over those old games. cooking mama, the olympic games, sports games (including wii sports), mario kart, fighting games... hell, even little big planet was a competition.

my brother is older than me, but he never mocked me for playing poorly with him. he never judged me, never bragged... of course, losing and/or coming in second all the time didn't exactly feel good, but i never stopped trying to be good at games while my brother was away.

but he had video games too, so... i was never gonna beat him at anything. that doesn't make playing alongside him any less fun.

all in all, video games brought me closer to my dad and my brother. and even now, my younger siblings and i bond over video games; every now and again, my little sister will text me to play splatoon together. because of my experience with competitive splatoon, i used to give her advice on how to improve. i don't play comp anymore (not really), but she's definitely taken some of my advice to heart. i never berate her for messing up nor do i micromanage her play style. we play games together because we love each other, and that's all there is.

why say all this, cinna?

well, nintendo finally decided to release their own music app. it doesn't include songs from every title ever, but the super mario galaxy soundtrack is on there. super mario galaxy was the very first game that i challenged myself to complete in its entirety. the game holds up to this day, so much so that nintendo put the first game on the switch.

literally begging on my knees for them to put super mario galaxy 2 on the switch... and every mario wii game, actually. BEGGING.

the soundtrack is absolutely gorgeous. one thing about nintendo's most iconic games is that they will NEVER miss with the music. (same goes for sega.) so i'm about to do work with the music of my childhood playing in my ears and i'm just... feeling sentimental.

my dad and i had a falling out recently, but after we made up, we became closer than ever. (mind you, the falling out lasted no more than two or three hours. we made up before sundown.) so every time i'm reminded of these older games, i think if my dad and how much of a gamer i turned out to be because of him.

tldr: in the words of that one tiktok audio: i fuckin' love my dad.

[rochelle-echidna]

@micheladee tagged me in the "post a couple paragraphs of your WIP" share-a-thon, so figured I'd go through my Word docs and see what I could find - thank you so much for the tag, Michela :)

Truth be told, if y'all will allow me to vent a bit first... it's been a bit of a shitter these last couple years, especially wrt getting any sort of writing done. Never mind with fics (of which I feel awful I've barely started anything new, even the WIP below is from last year) - but I've also been trying to finally write a novel of my own after realising I really, really want to... and the words just aren't coming. Whether it's because of fear of ridicule, fear of failure, fear of not being good enough, fear of financial stresses, fear of whatever... it's been really fucking rough since my spouse and I moved cross-country, and I've def been feeling ashamed at my lack of creative output :(

On the bright side, I'm getting some help with therapy and I'm doing a couple workshops to get me back into the swing of being creative so that I can tackle the work-life balance and not feel like the entirety of my (and my spouse's) survival rests squarely on my shoulders. Whether that means I'll be able to post any new work soon is up for debate, but honestly just taking these baby steps is better than nothing, so I'll take what I can get (and my body + mind can give).

And I know there's no "admission fee" to partake in fandom, but I still feel I'd be remiss if I didn't offer a huge apology for not positing fics recently, and especially for not commenting on fics y'all have made in these last several months - please believe me when I say I see y'all's work and it's great and makes me feel so many necessary things, even if I'm not able to type the words on AO3 atm.

Anyhow, just wanted to share an update with y'all and let you know I'm still here, still alive... just taking it one day at a time for now in order to keep my sanity strong!

Enjoy this little snippet of a WIP below, and I tag whoever so chooses to participate in this game - even if I'm quiet, I love seeing everything you lovely people write :D

When he was thrust back to reality in his own body, there was the usual disorientation that was to be expected of someone summoned through the dark arts. After all, if the infamous Thief King from 3,000 years ago had existed as a separate being before, there was no reason Malik’s other half couldn’t, too. Except… Ryou Bakura hadn’t exactly planned for this extra passenger to crawl his way back from the shadows alongside the former spirit. And what “Malik’s other half” – the phrase enough to make said individual gag – definitely hadn’t expected was for such confusion to be tainted by a profound sadness… one that had permeated his entire being for the last six months. Or however long it had been. Malik had gotten what he’d wanted, Ryou had gotten what he wanted, the Thief King had kind of gotten what he wanted – and all that “Malik’s other half” had gotten was a sense of displacement, dysmorphia and disdain. “You know… he’s welcome to stay here, Malik.” “You weren’t conscious during that damned duel fifteen years ago, host. Just be glad you weren’t privy to his cruelty firsthand.” “He’s right, Ryou. You’ve done enough already. There’s no need to put yourself in more danger.” “But there’s not much harm he can do now. I mean—" “I can hear you all.” Three pairs of eyes had greeted him when he’d first turned over on a – soft – bed. His hands had been bound, and he’d growled and snarled so much that he’d made Malik and the Thief King back up – but not the white-haired man in-between them. “You probably have lots of questions right now. And…” The blush that formed on the man’s cheeks had sent a – strange – shiver down his spine, warming his bound wrists. “I’m sorry I don’t have many answers.” He had merely hmphed at that, avoiding eye contact with his “main personality” and the thief who’d dared face him. Instead, he focused on the wide eyes of the man who must have been called— “Ryou… it’s no use. We need to send him back before he does some real damage again.” “Snap out of it, landlord. Just look at how he’s staring at you.” But the man – Ryou – had just tilted his head and let loose a very small smile. “What’s your name?”

[universallychaoticpan]

Hii! I really love your stories, they make me so happy even tho im going through some tough times, thank you for your hard work 💕

Soo I thought I could request something, if it's fine with you of course! So we all know how Dazai feels really alienated because he lacks basic human emotions but still wears a facade of outgoing clown. So I'd really love to read something maybe from his perspective when he meets reader who is just like him, and at the beginning he thought that she was just a simple girl but then something happened where she showed her more morally-gray side (apathetic a little) and then suddenly dazai realized that she could be the first person to understand him.

Feel free to ignore my request, I hope you have a wonderful day/night! 💕

Hello!! Thank you so much for being so sweet (y'all are gonna make me cry omg :,) ) I'm so happy I can help make you feel a little better in some small way. Anyway my gushing aside, I hope you enjoy this and come back anytime <333

Dazai knew, for a long, long time, that he was never going to be like everyone else. It simply wasn't his nature. The things others seemed to feel so easily, all the joy, sorry rage- he had to reach for. And he never could hold it; always, they slipped away like water in his hands.

He hated himself for it. In the past, he had questioned why he couldn't feel. He knew he wasn't a good person, but he knew plenty of bad people still capable of feeling something. He supposed Mori had ruined him, all those years ago. If anyone asked, he would blame it on the Port Mafia executive, which doubled as a convenient way to get them to stop asking. People rarely questioned a former mafia prodigy once they knew the slightest details of his past. But deep inside himself, he knew the truth. He had always been the way he was; that was his nature. This thing he was, the emptiness within him- there was no one to blame. He came by it all on his own, all the ugliness inside of him. But he should have been an actor, with all the faking he did. There was no end to how far he could go, how convincing he could be.

But still, he drifted, alone in his lack of feeling to tether him to the world.

Then, of course, like nature always intends, something changed.

You walked into his life, and he could feel you. Not in the sense that you were alive with passion, but quite the opposite.

You were like him.

He could see it in how you smiled, how you laughed- not disingenuous, per say, but lacking. They lacked the way his did. When you showed up, at first glance just another simple person, he found an anomaly. He found a rarity just like himself. All too quickly, he realized the two of you were the last of a dying species.

And his suspicions were confirmed on a summer night like any other, while you were walking home.

He wasn't following you. He kept telling himself that; you were just walking past the bar he had situated himself in that night and hey, it wasn't strange to bump into someone and strike up a conversation. That's what he told himself as he wove through the small clusters of people on the street, a distance between the two of you. But what began as innocent curiosity about you turned as quickly as you did, checking over your shoulders before walking into a narrow alley.

Now he was alight with curiosity; the same small spark that had lured him after you to begin with now spread into his limbs, quickening his pace until he realized he had lost sight of you.

Shit

He couldn't believe he had been so distracted as to loose you. Even worse, he had followed you down into a foggy maze of alleys, branching off in a myriad directions and while he wasn't worried about being lost, he wasn't thrilled about having to find his way back home either.

This of course, ceased to be his prime concern when a shadow came barreling into him, slamming him to the ground with a grunt before pressing a knife to his throat.

"Move and I will kill you. Now tell me why in hell you were following me."

And in spite of himself, he had to laugh. Because instead of some mysterious assailant, he was looking up into your face with your knife digging coolly into his skin. And once you recognized him, you lowered your weapon and took your weight off him, now straddling his hips and staring at him dumbfounded.

"Mind telling me what the punchline is here, Dazai?"

"Oh it's really nothing," he chuckled. "It's just that you were oh so ready to kill me."

"Yes," you replied, rolling your eyes, "I was. I have enemies so naturally I'm ready to kill creeps who follow me into dark alleys at night."

"But that's just it," he responded coyly. "The way you looked at me when you had me on the ground- I see that look every day when I look in a mirror. Let me guess: you could have killed me here and now and not felt a damn thing about it."

"Yeah so what," you shrugged. "Anyone could kill an enemy and not loose sleep over it."

"Wrong," he challenged. "People like to lie to themselves and think they could, but the truth is, most people would feel like a monster for killing even their worst enemy.

You and I are monsters because we know we would feel nothing."

You blinked, then stood up, brushing dirt off your pants as you turned to go. "I don't know what sort of person you've got me pegged for, but you're wrong."

He stood as well, following you still as you began to walk away.

"No, I'm dead right and you know it. Get a drink with me; by sunrise you'll understand we're more alike than even I know."

[luckylittlemonster]

This has been in my drafts for almost one and a half years y'all and honestly, I've never had the guts to actually post it until now. I still resonate with this post because it is what I felt in the moment. I took all the pain I had and put it in a few badly written words. I like to think this is the moment I actually started to slowly heal all my wounds. I've never had the guts to actually speak these thoughts, these feelings, at least not at the time that this paragraph has been written. I'd like to think that this is me finally letting go. Finally accepting that these feelings were at some point part of me and it's time I stop keeping them hidden. This is me getting one step closer to being fully recovered. This is me accepting me for what I truly am. Kinda cringe paragraph but eh, it is what it is. Enjoy my raw pain y'all.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"How dare you? How dare you say I haven't tried? You may not have seen it, but I slowly became a puppet for you to play with! I did everything you asked with no questions! You wanted me to shut up, I did! You wanted me to not talk with you for fuck knows how many hours, days, weeks, I DID! For fucks sake, even sexually I had one request and you were still pushing it to get what you wanted! I was a puppy! Afraid I would loose your love, I did everything like you wanted! You were trying to manipulate me! You were making fake promises and telling me lies about our future together! You though you finally found the stupidest person alive, didn't you? And at the time, maybe I was... I was fully aware of your manipulation, but fuck I let it happened because I though you'll love me more. Stupid, I know, but you were the very first man to love me, you were the very first person I told what happened at home... I trusted you, fuck I still do, but what's trust if you don't have respect? You told me with your own fucking mouth you'll beat the shit out of me if I cross the line! You owned me, everything I was belonged to you! I was a nobody in this world! If someone wanted to know who I was, instantly I would become "His girlfriend"! I wasn't "That girl who can draw" or "That one girl who is in love with reading", no, I was "His girlfriend"! For fucks sake, I hated being looked at like I was your property! You were a jerk, an asshole, even you acknowledged it sometimes, and yet you didn't stop... I knew it was pointless to try and change you, you already molded me how you wanted to... I was a perfect little doll up on the shelve with a stupid little mind. But now that's not it. I can breath again knowing that if I make a mistake I won't have to fear you anymore, and yes, my heart is broked in a million little pieces and it's still screaming at me at 1 in the morning, asking me why I did it, and I still cry oceans every night, I still don't eat very much and sometimes I regret it, but I know it's what's best for me. After all, what's the reason for being able to throw yourself in front of a round of bullets for someone when that someone is pulling the trigger?"

[psychelis-new]

Hello hope you are doing fine 🙂 if your dream interpretation is still open, I'd like to participate please

The reason I want a dream interpretation is that I keep dreaming about someone being in relationship in my dreams for months now and I was wondering why I dream of him. Is it maybe a premonition dream or something else? And I will give you the context of my situation so you will understand more why I'm confused and dreaming about that person is so random

So I've been through a really bad breakup with someone I had been with for 10 years. Before the breakup, I already dreamed about someone who took me on a date showing me love and a better relationship, I was really happy in that dream. I don't remember his face but in the dream I found him really handsome. It was out of nowhere because I still with my ex and loved back then and didn't want to break up even though there were many difficulties, I wanted no one but him

After the breakup I was a mess but ironically my intuition became too strong, I started to predict random things. Then there was this dream about someone that only know/saw from socmed and we never met or spoke with each other. I dreamed about meeting his parents in their house because we were dating then I was talking to him alone outside near a river, he told me his parents professions.. it was too vivid that I started to do some researches about him. The dream was right about his parents jobs.. I tried to recall myself if I knew it from somewhere but no it was my first time hearing it

Months later I had a dream being in a party and someone ask me if I wanted them to take me home and I said no I'm going home with my husband, after I said that a guy showed up, took my hands then we rode his car. Till now I remembered that gentle feeling.. it was so soft and I still feel his love for me. I didn't remember his face but he has the same features (hair, ethnicity, physique,..) as the last person I mentioned. When I woke up, it was mind-blowing because I've never dreamed about having an husband before even with my ex like him as my husband.

And days ago again I dreamed about someone who I don't remember the face telling, trying to convince me that we are connected and he was with me during my past lives, will be with me this life too and in my future lives, in the dream I didn't believe him

So I'm here because I honestly don't know how to interpret those dreams and I don't understand why I dreamed about being with someone. After the breakup till now I've been sad, mad at my ex and still had feeling left for him. I'm not in any relationship or contact with someone. I'm not ready to date again unless I'm healed. I want to focus on myself first. Though sometimes I get curious about who will be my next partner or my fs or if I deserve to be loved but it's not important for me. I want to love myself first, dating is not my priority

Sorry for this long ask and thank you for reading it 🙏🏽

Hello My dreams interpretations are ALWAYS open y'all.

And ofc you deserve to be loved, that's out of question. Everyone does. And everyone does need to be loved properly (I understand it's something you probably still need to work on after that relationship so take your time to analyze it as well and bring yourself proper closure).

Going in order, when you dreamed about being with another person while you still were with your partner, it could have been your subconscious telling you there probably was something wrong in your relationship and that you had to check better the reason why you wanted to keep the relationship alive (what were the problems about and what kept you two together and all, if you had any fear related to ending the relationship, what it would have meant for you -Idk eg. failing, not being enough, feeling alone...- or such). This is one of the possible interpretations ofc, another one could have been that it was a communication about another relationship in store for you already.

For how amazing it is that you can tell me about all these dreams, there are many details missing for me to properly give you an interpretation of them and see better their meaning, try to be accurate. I ask for dreams descriptions because only through them I can get a proper view of what is going on for you. If not, I can't. I am sadly not inside your heart or mind, the only way is through your descriptions and from what you wrote, it could be anything: it could be that maybe you are indeed in 5d communication/connection with someone, your next partner or so, your soulmate or how you want to call them. Or maybe since you had this trauma of ending this relationship and fears connected to being able of being loved again and well, maybe that's what the dreams were all about: showing that yes, you can and will be loved again. That you only need to work through this situation and be more positive about what's next for you. Someone is being sent for you anyway and they will make it all better. Maybe it's both the things. You are in a connection with this person and they're coming soon in your life to make it all better, so try to be more positive about what's next and about your qualities and all that you are. Don't let your worries/fears about being lovable block you, cause they're not right.

As for vivid dreams: they may happen, expecially when we feel particularly stressed/agitated in our daily life or if there's a specific moon phase that interest our own chart as well. Intuitive hints/downloads/predictions may be part of them, as of other dreams though (and with this I am in no way trying to minimize the experience you had or saying it was wrong, at all. Just giving context: you may have predictions/downloads also in less vivid dreams).

And one last thing, if I may: I understand you want to wait to date again, in order to be completely healed, but... when do you consider yourself as being completed healed (what is your definition of it, I mean: cause generally being healed is not about not being triggered anymore, but having learned to react to triggers/fears/anxious thoughts in a healthier way for us)? And what if you need someone else to help you end your healing process, since it very likely regards your relationships too? What if this person needs to come in to help you complete the process (and you need to help them in something else too)? Focus on yourself, but do it not just to save yourself from further pain and block something good out of fear of not being ready: Universe knows better when you are (and your intuition does too: trust it as you noticed how well it works).

Best of lucks, take care<3

[penig]

That's more like it.

The first phone I actually paid money for and maintained myself, in the early 80s, was also the second phone I'd ever used that was all one piece. Until I got that slim little Cobra with its cord that stretched to everyplace in my efficiency apartment, every phone I used had a blocky body with the dial on it (we called it a dial even after punch keys replaced rotary dials) and a separate earpiece. You talked into the bulb at one end and listened at the bulb of the other. The weirdest phone I'd known in person up to that time was my Gramma and Grampa's phone in the 60s, which was an ultramodern number with the rotary dial in the base. I wonder if I can find a picture of that.

There we are. Gramma's was slimmer but you get the idea. They had kept the shell of their old wall phone, too, a wooden box with a mouthpiece and a separate earpiece on a cord. It didn't have a dial because nobody dialed when it was used: you picked up the earpiece, pressed a lever, were automatically connected to a switchboard operator, and told her either the number you wanted to call or gave her the identification information she needed to direct the call. Gramma had a friend who was a switchboard operator; they were still there for backup until relatively recently. The zero on your phone doubled as O for Operator.

My mom, who is still alive, grew up with a party line and a candlestick phone, something like this:

I'm not sure if hers had a dial or not. Telephones evolved so quickly, y'all...It hasn't been 200 years yet.

On my other poll about first phones I got a lot of comments ab brick and slidey phones so here’s a new and improved poll with more options ✨

Pls reblog if u vote :)

[aziraphales-library]

Hello dear mods! I've found plenty of fics through you and I'm extremely grateful <3

I was wondering if any of you knew fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley 'fall in love all over again'? As an example, quite a while ago, I read a fic (Pieces of You by syrupfactory) in which Heaven gives Aziraphale fake human memories and he, to make up for the gaping hole of his lost memories of Crowley, creates memories of his late husband "Jay", and throughout the story, he starts mixing "Jay" and Crowley in his head, as he (and Crowley --who did remember) falls in love all over again.

I was wondering if you knew of some other fic in which, maybe they don't lose their memories necessarily, but they fall in love all over again? Maybe they drifted apart, or were forcibly separated, or maybe it's an already established relationship and they just realize how much they love each other (as in, fall a little bit more in love every day), or anything at all! Could be pre-canon, post-canon, human au, anything.

I'd prefer it if it wasn't rated E, but I'll take what I can get!

Once again, thanks for everything <3 y'all are live-savers.

Hi anon! We have a bunch of fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley get back together and fall in love with each other again on our #reunion tag, so please do check that out. So here I’ve focused on memory loss fics in which their relationship and feelings develop again over time...

Our Lost Time by Izabella95 & UnproblematicMe (E)

Aziraphale Crowley awakes in the hospital after an almost fatal accident. But he is lucky and gets away alive and without permanent injuries. The close call sets things into perspective and he wants to fix his strained marriage. His husband, Anthony Crowley - who simply goes by "Crowley" - takes good care of Aziraphale after the accident, but there seems to be an invisible barrier between the spouses. Can Aziraphale save his relationship? What secrets does Crowley keep?

Remembrance of Things Past by Fyre (T)

“You didn’t think we would just forget about your misbehaviour, did you, Crawly?” Crowley locked his hands around the steering wheel and slammed his foot down on the accelerator, heart thundering. The bookshop was up ahead. Couple more blocks and he’d be within the protective mantle that covered the place for fifty metres in every direction. “It’s Crowley now,” he said through bone-dry lips. “Oh no, darling,” Lucifer’s malevolence thrummed in Freddie’s voice. “Not anymore.”

Unforgettable by Joseph_Amadeus (E)

Aziraphale wakes up in a hospital. He's being told that he's married to a handsome man who is sitting by his bed, but Aziraphale won't be fooled. He wouldn't have forgotten being married. He wouldn't have forgotten a man like Crowley. He wouldn't have.

This is Not my Beautiful House by cyankelpie (T)

Crawly wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize. The last thing he remembers is being ordered to "make some trouble" up on Earth. Someone has dressed him in ridiculously tight clothes and cut off all his hair, and now there's an angel calling him by a different name and being nicer to him than anyone ever has.

Clearly, there's been some catastrophic misunderstanding.

Vita Nova by AMidnightDreary (M)

“Angel, bloody hell. Hi. You doing okay? Do you have any idea what’s going on?” It was quiet for a few seconds. “I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said then, still polite, but a bit perplexed. “Who is this?”

*

Crowley, upon finding that Aziraphale does not remember him, is very much Not Okay with the changes Adam made after the Apocalypse That Wasn't. He can't do anything but try and make the best out of it, though.

Another Time, Another Place by indigo (E)

What if? Two words - so powerful.

A slight divergence from canon sees a very different life for Aziraphale five years after the world didn’t end. Ostracised from Heaven, he now lives in a world with bookshops and Afternoon Tea, but without Crowley; a world in which he believes Crowley gave his life to save him.

However, it’s not quite that simple, and maybe they can somehow get a happy ending after all???

(They can, and they do. But let’s not tell Aziraphale that just yet. It’ll spoil the fun!)

Mind the tags on that last one! And the fic you mentioned...

Pieces of You by syrupfactory (M)

Twenty years post-canon, Crowley and Aziraphale's happily-ever-after is uprooted when Aziraphale suddenly vanishes and an encounter with demons leaves Crowley mortal and powerless. After passing months in solitude, Crowley ventures back into London, only to find his husband living a human life as "Ezra" and mourning a fictional human husband called "Jay." Determined to get Aziraphale back, Crowley resolves to do whatever it takes to befriend him all over again, as ordinary people this time, until his angel remembers him.

- Mod D

[quiet-onset]

A Decade Blessed

Pairing: King!Sam Wilson x Queen!reader

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: I meant to post this fluffy smut two days ago, oops! This is a continuation to A Blessing but can be read as a complete fic. (I'd recommend reading the first part though lol)

TW: 18+ only (don't try me, I will block you), unprotected sex, f and m receiving oral sex, exhibition kink kinda?? basically someone hears y'all for a second

When you were but a young, bright-eyed doe, your parents told you that ten years was a blip in the grand scheme of things. You didn’t understand at the time; you were only eleven years old. Every year you’d been alive felt like a lifetime.

As you stood next to your husband and children, you understood. Ten years was nothing.

Your twins were now eighteen years old, towering over you and gaining ground on their father. Little Eve was not so little anymore; thirteen years old and taking the kingdom by storm. Smarter than most, she frequented philosophy classes filled with men and made herself heard, whether they wanted to listen or not.

And your husband, your dear Sam. He hadn’t changed much. A few more crinkles by his eyes when he smiled, a few grey hairs mixed into his stubble. Still, you knew that it didn’t matter if or how he changed, you would love that fool of a man until the end of your days.

It was time for the Unity Festival, a festival thought up by Nathan when he was around twelve years old. When he started to learn about the history of the kingdom, he’d suggested a celebration for the union of Ucaerus and Wrethia, for your wedding. Sam had smiled brightly at him and hugged him close, much to his chagrin. So there you were, sitting above the crowd as you watched a dance troupe telling the kingdom’s history with beautiful and delicate choreography.

Sam reached over and took your hand in his. “Did you ever think you’d be this happy, my love?”

“With you?” You scoffed playfully. “Of course not.”

“Even after all these years, you still must antagonize me?”

“What else do married couples do?” You chuckled.

He laughed along with you, pressing a short kiss to the back of your hand. Just after, your daughter approached you both, wringing her hands together shyly. Your brow raised in amusement; Eve had never been shy, even as an infant.

“Father—”

“Father?” Sam’s eyes widened in a teasing manner. “You only call me Father when you want something.”

“Let her finish.” You chided.

Eve bit her lip nervously, “Well, the Maximoff twins have just arrived from Sokovia, and I was wondering, um, if I could greet Princess Wanda myself.”

“Only Princess Wanda? What about Prince Pietro?” Sam had asked, holding back a chuckle.

“Papa!”

“Ignore your father.” You told her. “Go on, you can greet her at the castle entrance.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Her gratitude was but a flicker as she practically sprinted toward the castle. You both laughed as she shakily saddled her horse for the short ride back.

Samuel turned toward you, a small smile on his face as he watched his daughter fade into the distance. “She seems very taken by Princess Wanda.”

“Princess Wanda is a very nice girl, Samuel. A bit older than Eve, but she is nice nonetheless. Besides, Eve still has a few years before she can begin courting.”

At that, Sam groaned, a loud and obnoxious sound that turned the heads of those nearest to the couple. “Do not say that. She is a baby.” Men, women, and children alike chortled, chuckled, and giggled at their dramatic ruler, always the first to create the tallest, significant mountains from what began as an anthill.

Still, Sam felt his chest tighten at the thought of Eve courting. Not as others fathers do, worried that their daughters will fall into the arms of some young man who only wanted one thing from her. No, Sam believed that to be an immature line of thought. Courting meant that Eve would be considered a young woman, and no longer his little girl. No more holding her in his arms as she cried about scraping her knees on the ground. She would no longer need her father to tuck her in at night and tell her stories. Long gone would be the days of chasing her and her brothers around the castle. He knew it would happen someday, but that didn’t mean he had to look forward to it.

“Did you forget that children grow, husband?” You chuckled.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I forgot that my children grow.”

You placed your hand over his, thumb gliding comfortingly across his smooth brown skin. “I understand. It is hard to watch them grow up. But isn’t it also amazing?”

Sam’s once tense muscles relaxed under your touch, the sad feeling melting away as he thought about how wonderful his children were. The corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly, “It is. You made three wonderful children.”

“Well, I did have some assistance.” You chuckled. “Sir Barnes was a wonderful caretaker.”

Sam laughed loudly and reached over to pinch your side. “How dare you!”

He watched as you laughed and slapped his hands away. Your eyes were bright as you refocused on the festivities before you. Clapping for the performers and waving to your many subjects, all while discreetly parenting your teenage boys, warning them to stop the inappropriate jokes while at the festival. Sam had always been in awe of you since the day you met (your wedding day, ironically). And to his surprise, you only seemed to get better with age. Stronger and wiser, sure. But also more empathetic, more generous, more loving. You were everything Sam aspired to be and more, and he could hardly believe his luck. Even after almost twenty years of marriage.

Time seemed to pass so very quickly when there were festivities. Between the acrobats, the singers, and the adorable children acting out the kingdom’s history of unity, the hours flew by. Soon, it was time for the evening festivities, which was reserved for those in Ucaerus’s royal court and special guests.

You and Sam went back to your chambers to prepare. Natasha had hung up a new dress for you, a deep green evening gown to represent the kingdom of Wrethia. Sam’s new attire, a matching purple ensemble to represent his home kingdom Ucaerus. They were beautiful together, and made a mental note to compliment Natasha’s handiwork.

“We must hurry.” You reminded your husband. “We wouldn’t want to be late to our own event.”

“Are you not yet exhausted?” Sam asked with a playful hum.

“I’ve learned to hide it well, and you should, too. Go change.” You answered, and he let out a groan as you pushed him away toward his own clothes.

He removed his shirt rather quickly, but his actions ceased when he peeked at you over his shoulder. Suddenly entranced by your graceful movements, he watched from across the room as you pulled the ribbons on your dress loose. Your slip was pulled down by the weight of your dress, revealing the smooth skin of your back and the swell of your ass. Sam already felt his blood rushing at the sight. He began to walk toward you when you gasped at the cold night air. You bent down to retrieve the slip for at least a little reprieve from the chill, but Sam’s deep voice stopped you. “Leave it.”

“It’s cold, Samuel.”

His large, warm hands slid down your back and around your waist. Trailing up your torso, he took your breasts in his hands, giving each one a firm squeeze as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“All these years and you are still so excitable.” You shuddered under his touch.

“How can I help it when I have the most beautiful wife in the world?” He let out a quiet groan close to your ear as you pressed your backside into his crotch. “I will never tire of you or your body, my love.”

“Even when we grow old?”

He let out a deep chuckle, sliding one hand down your front as he gently kicked open your legs ever so slightly. With a hum, he quickly dipped his fingers into your wetness and slid back up to the small bundle of nerves that always had you falling apart under him. He drew a long moan out of you with slow, deliberate circles on your clit. “Even when we are old and decrepit, I will still be an excitable old man begging for your attention.”

Your next moan came out as a laugh, and Sam smiled. He loved the intimacy he had with you. Ever since the first time you slept together, there was no pressure to do anything besides enjoy each other’s touch and presence. That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy some of your rougher escapades, but not every couple could just be themselves — crack jokes while their partner is on the verge of an orgasm and have it feel totally natural.

And that’s what it was. Samuel teasing about the different ways he’d try to seduce you as an old, decrepit man, all while increasing the speed of his fingers on your clit. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you were sure you’d fall if not for Sam holding you up. The cold air long forgotten, he was enamored by the way you began to lose yourself in the pleasure, clutching onto him wherever you could as your hips began to buck up of their own accord. “I know you’re close, Y/N.” He whispered in your ear, a high-pitched whine leaving your throat at the gruffness in his voice. “Let go, I’m right here.”

Just a few more passes over your clit and a squeeze of your breast and you feel over the edge. Your thighs squeezed together as you cried out, trapping Sam’s hand as he whispered praises in your ear.

He carefully led you back to the bed, falling on top of it. He gently lifted you and laid you on the bed next to him, chuckling when you weakly tugged at his clothing. He stood for a brief moment to shed his pants, then laid next to you. With one hand cupping your cheek, he smiled fondly down at you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You giggled.

“Wow.” He said with a short laugh. “All these years and you still giggle like a schoolgirl for me.”

“Shut up, Samuel.”

You leaned over to kiss him, and it was almost like the first time. All the love and emotion was stored behind slow strokes of his tongue against yours. You lightly dragged your nails across the expanse of his back, all taught muscle and sinew underneath soft brown skin. His lips left yours with a soft grunt as he pulled you up higher on the bed. He was just getting between your thigh when you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist. You leaned down to press a light kiss to his ear, “My turn.”

“You are going to be the death of me.” Sam let out a breathless laugh as you trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. His hips had a mind of their own when you sucked on the collarbone, thrusting up into you. His hard cock slid between your lips, and the thick mushroom head bumped against your swollen clit, a faint gasp falling from your lips.

“I will not allow you to die before me, my love.”

He rolled his eyes, panting as your kisses travelled lower. “Well, you are not dying before me. I simply won’t have it.”

Then, you settled between his legs, lying comfortably on your stomach as you took his dick into your hand. Sam could see the mischief in your eyes as you smiled while slowly stroking up and down. “I think the only solution is that we die at the exact same moment. Is that agreeable to you, my love?”

“I suppose that—“ Samuel was prepared with a witty answer, as always, but suddenly your lips were wrapped around him. You laid there, looking up at him with wide eyes as you just barely sucked on the tip, and he suddenly forgot every word of it. All that was left of his thoughts were indescribable pleasure and a few choice curses that fell from his lips in Ucaerian.

It truly baffled him how you managed to do that. To reduce him — the witty, clever, strong-willed beast that he was — to a sputtering mess just by sucking on his tip. You’d barely even gotten started with him, and he already had a hand in your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp to spur you on.

And you did. You took him deeper down your throat, slowly bobbing your head as you massaged his balls. Heavy in your hand and mouth, you watched as his head tilted back and a loud groan fell from his lips. Occasionally, you’d pull away to breathe, maybe to wipe a bit of spit off your chin. Stroking his cock, wet with your saliva, licking him from tip to base. If you really wanted to drive him wild, you leaned down and played with his balls. With his balls, all it took was one lick and one really good suck before he was putty in your hands, groaning and cursing like a sailor.

When you came back up, Sam really was a sight to behold. His smooth brown skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His chest heaved and his abs flexed as he tried to keep his self-control. One hand in your hair and the other gripping on to the sheets so hard, you weren’t sure if his hand would even open again.

Then, you sat up just a little bit and opened your mouth, tongue sticking out. And Sam easily took the hint.

He struggled to go slow, not wanting to overwhelm you like this. You were so delicate, so alarmingly close to perfection, he didn’t want to ruin it for the sake of his own orgasm. No, he lifted his hips slowly, watching his cock disappear into your mouth, and he swore he saw stars. “You’re so beautiful like this.” He said with a moan as he prepared for another thrust, and you managed to get a quick swipe of your tongue over the slit at the head of his cock. “So good.”

His eyes were glued to you as your lips stretched around his length. He grunted when you let out a small whimper from the back of your throat, the vibration almost breaking his patience.

Just as quick, there were five quick knocks on the bedroom door. It surprised you both, and Sam’s hips impulsively thrusted forward a little too rough. He felt your throat constrict around his dick for a fleeting moment before you lifted your head, but it took all of his will power to conceal the groan he wanted to let out. He cradled the back of your head with his hand while you regained your breath, but he still called out. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty.” Joaquin answered politely. Sam's aide-de-camp shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood behind the door. “But the evening festivities are ready to begin. Your people await you and the Queen.”

And once again, Samuel’s train of thought was lost as you left a playful nip on his thigh to get his attention once more. With a playful smirk, you took his entire length down your throat, ignoring your gag reflex for as long as you could. He felt your throat squeeze around his tip, and he almost came right there with your nose buried in his tidied pubic hair. His eyes were wide as he flew to an upright position, a strangled moan falling from his lips. When you couldn’t breathe anymore, you pulled back and took a deep breath, smirking at him as drool dripped down your chin.

“Sire?” Joaquin said nervously after waiting a moment. He knew, then, what was going on, but he wouldn’t dare say anything of it.

“Have the twins preside for now.” Sam replied. “The Queen and I will be out soon.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” And just as soon as he’d arrived, his aide-de-camp was racing down the hall, away from the raunchiness that was taking place in Sam’s bedroom.

Sam looked down at you and laughed, coaxing you up to his lips with a gentle pull of your hair. “I was going to apologize for the rough thrust, but somehow, I think you enjoyed it.”

“Now why would I enjoy that?”

Lips slotted between yours in a heated kiss, he broke away with a smile and buried his face in your neck. One deep inhale of your scent expanded his chest as he pulled you close. “Who knew you were so mischievous?”

Soon, Sam flipped you onto your back, hips flush against your own. His cock rested heavy on your stomach as you squirmed below him. His hands trailed down your sides and gripped under your knees, then pushed your knees to your chest as far as he could without making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward and placed a loving peck on your lips filled with concern. “Is this okay?” He mumbled against your lips.

“It’s perfect.” You replied.

Then, just as he’d done so many other times, he guided his length to your entrance and gently began to stretch you open. You mewled underneath him as he pushed forward, his hips staggering for just a moment at your tight, wet heat. Finally, he was pressed deep inside you. He stilled and pressed short kisses all over your face as you adjusted to him. All it took was a small nod of your head, and he was slowly pulling out and thrusting back into you.

No matter how often you had sex, you were hyper aware of his size. His girth was really what split you open every time, the slight sting of the stretch morphing into pleasure with every thrust. Every few thrusts, Sam, ever the caring lover, pressed his lips to yours, nudging your nose. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You panted. Your eyes closed when he let out a short grunt, your cunt fluttering around his length. “Just don’t stop, please.”

You swore he’d drive you insane one day with the slow, sinful sex he liked to have. With each drag of his cock in and out of your soft, warm pussy, you couldn’t help but let out a needy moan. Still, Sam would take his time, telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, all while punctuating his praise with a deep, slow thrust. “You take me so well.” The groan he let out came from deep in his chest. “Can you feel me, my love?”

In one sense, he wanted you to feel him — every inch, every vein, every throb of his cock. He wanted you to be thinking about him long after you both reached ecstasy. During the festivities, when you were doing what queens do, he wanted you to feel the ache in your hips and in your cunt. He couldn’t wait to see that hungry look in your eye as you watched him from across the room. He knew was the only one who could do that to you, and that only served to push him closer to the edge as his thrusts got a bit rougher.

In another sense, this is Sam at his most vulnerable. With his cock pressing into the spongy bit of your soft walls that had you clutching onto his shoulders, you saw a part of Sam that was for you, and you only. To everyone else, Sam was the king. He made the tough choices that no one else could. But behind closed doors, he was just himself. The man who made terrible jokes, the amazing father who would do anything for his children. The man you fell in love with. He wanted you to feel that, too.

Still, Sam had his pride. It was hard for him to say. So, one way to show you was this. Hips rolling into yours and his cock slid in and out, in and out of your dripping wet pussy, the head just nudging your G-spot every time.

Your legs dropping wider of their own accord, and Sam gave you a hand, holding your legs up for you as he focused on making you come. Your back began to arch as beneath him, your breasts pressed against his chest. One of his hands slid down to your clit and rubbed in tight circles, making you hiss. “I want you to come for me.” Sam rasped, feeling your walls tighten around him. “Can you do that? Can you come for me?”

You could do little but nod your head and whine as your heartbeat quickened, your orgasm slowly creeping up on you. Your legs began to tremble and then, everything was a blur.

White-hot pleasure coursed through you as the coil snapped and freed a long, loud moan of Sam’s name from the back of your throat. Star danced behind your eyelids, and your nails dragged across Sam’s back, making him shudder.

All the while, he didn’t stop thrusting, pushing his hard, sensitive cock into your G-spot. He could feel his orgasm growing as his balls tightened slightly, slapping against your ass with every thrust. Your first orgasm soon became a second, and that was when Sam couldn’t hold back any longer.

He laid on top of you with one hand clutching your thigh to keep it locked around his waist. Your breasts pressed against his chest and his entire body covered you as he chased his orgasm with the sweet sound of your encouraging moans and whimpers in his ear. Sam please, don’t stop. Fill me up, I want to feel you. All of you. A few thrusts and one string of curses later, the coil in his groin snapped loose, and you felt him come inside you.

He throbbed inside you, and your spent pussy answered in kind, pulsating around his cock as he slowly but surely started thrusting his come even deeper inside you. With one final thrust, he held you close and rolled over on the bed — your leg hiked over his waist, and his softening dick still inside you. You let out a breathless laugh when he pressed a kiss to your now-ruined hair. “It took three hours for Natasha to do my hair today.”

“And it was beautiful while it lasted.” Samuel panted jokingly.

“I supposed that means we cannot return to the evening festivities.”

“Oh no.” His large hand that was once content resting on your thigh slid upwards and squeezed a handful of your ass. He hummed deep in his chest, feeling his cock twitch with interest inside you. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“I am all ears, my love.”

[lovee-infected]

Macaroon anon I love you and how can I resist writing for such a great idea? I really wanted this piece to take place as Ciel was stuck in twst in my previous au but since I mentioned dorm leaders there it couldn't be really done...Rip

A twisted path ✨

~ Black butler x twisted wonderland ~

Feat : Mey-Rin , Bard & Finnian

Poor trio stay away in shock of not only his unexpectedly loud shout but also...eh...his appearance .  Are they wrong or does this guy really look similar to master Ciel...?

Coming conscious still with his eyes closed , he hears some sounds around him:" He dead ?-""No I don't think he is, his chest is still moving" "Anyway what's this body doing hear at Phantomhive's mansion? If he's been stabbed or something it's going to be troublesome," "Na I guess this dude's just been really drunk y'all. Also...what's with the clothes ? Could it be that he's somewhat of an actor from nearby theaters ?" "Aye? Since when are the designs this messed up...- I guess we'd better get rid of it before mister Sebastian returns, maybe burry hi-"

Riddle freaks out as he hears this idiots wanting to burry him alive and immediately wakes up screaming at them to stay away.

Riddle on the other hand gazes upon what he just faced: a red haired haired maiden wearing a pair of glasses, a yellow haired boy with green pupils and a rather buff man with a toothpick in his mouth staring at him. " Ah- He a'live ! Man ya gotcha be more careful with drinking," the buff man chuckles. Riddle suddenly feels highly unsafe: Who are these people? And where am I? He's read NRC's maps enough to know that such a building is surely not a part of it , come along it's weird people. Was he kidnapped while asleep...?He pulls up his staff and starts threatening them with it , wanting them to immediately introduce themselves and explain what he was doing here- wherever it was-

Finnian tries to calm him down with a soft smile and a friendly attitude, but Riddle is strong at his point: He wants answers.

When he sees them all trying to calm him down with no explanations he gets mad : "OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

...What ? Wait-maybe try again:"Off with your-Heads!" ...Why isn't it working? Riddle stays still, the magic collars have to be around their neck but- they are not...?? There must've been a mistake: " Off with your heads - Off with your HEADS - OFF WITH YOUR HEADS DAMN IT-"

Mey-Rin, Finnian and Bard stare at their angry guest shouting nonsense and getting as red as a tomato, what is wrong with this guy..?

Riddle is furious and confused , what's the matter ? Is his magic blocked the same as that time Beans day?  He doesn't know , and he doesn't like it

Riddle starts shouting at them asking what they've done to his magic and the poor guys just go...Huh ? Riddle keeps on getting redder and redder as if he's about to explode . He starts threatening them from reporting them to the head master to giving them to the official policies for kidnapping and neglecting his picture 

Finnian then decides that maybe it's better to leave him to mister Sebastian and so : Picking up a huge branch and a striking it to his head , savage

Riddle passes out immediately whoops- maybe Finnian should have been softer-

They stay there gazing upon their... masterpiece . Finnian might have even broken his skull - Good god , what should they do now ? They must wait until mister Sebastian arrives ; But where is he now ?

Feat : Suma & Agni

"Pssssssst- Agniii...I guess he finally woke u-" " M- my prince , y-you sure that it was a good idea too bring a total stranger out of nowhere to our home ? I'd greatly appreciate it if you be more ca-"

Argh...what is with all noises around him ? He's told Ruggie a million times not to let anyone in his room whole he's taking a nap even if it's gonna be the grim reaper ; what are these brats doing here?

Leona rambles under lips and with a push he's awake : " Oi , you'd better know that I don't like having my naps ruined,"

Suma gasps at the sight of him being finally awake and tries to offer his unwanted guest a welcome hug which Leona rejects- Poor Suma

Leona isn't yet realizing what actually is going on , from not knowing that this isn't his room to the fact that he's now at more than 100 years ago in a whole different world ; ironic

Leona orders them to take this annoying conversation out of his room just to face Agni's locked expression : "Your room...?"

Taking a better look , Leona finally gets that this probably isn't his room and these people surely aren't from NRC

Sounds get echoed through his brain and he feels a small ache inside it . He rubs his head ...why does everything feel so strange ? Something is different ... could it be that he's still sleepy or..? Wait a second - Why can't he shake his tail ?

He immediately looks back to see if he's sit on his own tail but faces a terrifying scene : There is no tail . Is it cut off ????

and a newer fact flashes his brain : There are no ears either . But then how can he still here the sounds ? "P-please don't be", he begs . His hands shake as he brings them up to touch both sides of his head ; wishing not to find what he is looking for . And they are ! Human ears !A mild shiver is sent down his neck and he rushes to the mirror on the other side of the room just to face this nightmare with his own two eyes

He stares at the mirror with his eyes wide open and mouth as if he is going to shout . No...

Oh...nevermind . He has to calm down ; it's nothing but another fancy dream . He'll soon wake up and these will be all gone . Leona tries closing his eyes and cursing , wanting to wake up to sanity when he opens them again

Surprise : Nothing's changes . Two crappy brats still staring at him . Agni is now a bit suspicious but Suma on the other hand is really motivated : " Ahh~! Sorry if it's strange to sleep in the streets and wake up in bed- I just saw you laying there in a death like slumber and couldn't help but to bring you along ! Also , haven't we met before ? I'm pretty sure that I've seen your face somewhere before... Don't you happen to be from India ? "

Agni is really stressed out and keeps warning the young boy : " My prince ! He's now all conscious and fine , then I'd lead him out of he-"

"Prince , huh ?" Leona wasn't ever really interested in visiting ally kingdoms back at his home town so he barely got to meet any other princes , hm but to think that this cherishing child is actually a prince...man , the world has really changed

But he has no time for such games now , he has to find Ruggie or anyone else who may lead him out this insanity and return him his ears and tail

He asks for where he is - else than Suma's mansion - and the answer doesn't really do any help either . Where on the bloody hell is London ? And if these people found him laying in the streets when the heck did he even get here ? Well , doesn't really matter now , but where is NRC ?

Suma and Agni probably don't know where NRC is and Dire Crowley ? Suma wonders if this guy was the one who fooled him to buy a sick elephant which died a week after in india , but Agni is sure that neither him nor his prince have ever met a single soul named this

Leona is getting more and more pissed off wasting time chatting with these idiots so he takes his way out , ignoring Suma's begs for him to stay for lunch at least

He freezes just at the second he opens the exit doors and gazes upon the streets : Horses? carriages ? 19th century's clothing ? How long have these people been stuck in this lack of technology?

He feels like he now really needs to make a phone call but searching his pockets he finds both of them empty...those brats stole my-

He was close to getting hit by a carriage when someone shouts at him with a : " OUT OF WAY YOU SON OF A-"

He is now ready to get in a fight but a sound cuts him off : " LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!" , this extremely annoying sound...what the heck is he doing here and : WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL HAS HE DONE NOW !!!????

Feat : Lau & Ran-Mao

Business tip nu 1 : Always keep calm , even if you end up losing all your magic powers in the surface without the possibility of returning to your original form or knowing where in the damn world you are : K-e-e-p-c-a-l-m

Thankfully , Azul's dope nature avoids him from going crazy during his stay in this...non-Twisted wonderland world

He had heard of theories explaining the possibility of other world's existence ; countless ones indeed . But to end up in one of them without any preparations ? He wasn't planning on that

Well nevermind , that cannot be helped now . let's look for a better way

Lack of facility , cultural deprivation and severe corruption ; is this how humans are ? No wonder the sea witch called them Poor unfortunate souls...

Enough with these people , he must now ignore all other disadvantages and take a look into beneficial sides of it...If he has ended up here , in this world and into this spot of the city there must be something linked to magic nearby ; even if he's surrounded by all these foolish people who haven't ever even seen real magic by their own eyes

Just as he's looking around , something catches his attention : a strange smell . Thanks to his family he's pretty good at following smells to their source and knowing what exactly they are : it's the pungent smell of Opium

He follows the smoke to its source and arrives to a bunch of stares going underground . A board is place next to the stares with something written on it :  Opium Den

Azul isn't one to believe in superstitions but he is sometimes interested to take ambitious  steps ; life sometimes brings you worthy surprises

Entering the shop , someone slightly grabs his arm . He turns his head to face a young, beautiful lady pulling his sleeve softly , eyes empty of any emotions . Without saying a word , Ran-Mao grabs his hat and coat and Azul thanks her , seems like he took the right path

His vision got a bit blurred as must of the air is filled with smoke , not that he isn't used to such atmospheres

" Why welcome to my place , sir . How may we service you today~ ? " a sound says from other side of the room . Azul turns back to face the source of all these smoke holding that young lady from before close , could she be her right arm woman or something ? She seems pretty obedient for one , which is nice

Azul introduces himself and takes a seat . He isn't going to get to his main point at the very first seconds ; he needs to make sure that he's come to the right person . He introduces himself as a businessman from a far away city , came to explore more of business tactics here in London . He offers Lau a small chat toward that , wanting him to give him more information on business if possible and return , he'd be given similar information about Azul's home town

While being considerably great at it , Lau isn't really interested in wasting time talking about business , all he ever cares in some sort of entertainment in whatever he does . Still , he agrees of playing this fake role for a short time . Although he knows that Azul isn't here for this either...

A few minutes pass and they both know that Azul doesn't really care to know how much a pork costs and either is Lau , so takes a serious step himself : " I see you're a man of business , Mr . Azul . I wonder what I you may be able to offer me in return ," Azul clarifies that he would get interesting information if he gives Azul good ones ; everything is clear and equal . "Then , I'm afraid that I've got not much to offer ," Lau sighs , but a small smirks appears of his lips : "But what would you say about some tea ? And maybe a small talk ? "

Lau isn't like others out there and that's pretty recognizable to Azul , but it doesn't make him the right person to trust either . He is continuing this conversation in hope of Lau leading him to the right person he is looking for , someone worthy of a greater contract . Lau lets out a sad sigh feeling sorry that he can't do much help , but he knows that who may do : A well-known friend , serving years working as a right arm man . Talented , well cultured , big on all issues including business : "I'm sure that you'll like him ,"

Well perhaps this thing's starting to work out for him : " Then by all means , lead me to this mister you speak of , Mr. Lau~" "With all pleasure . Bring him his coat and hat , sister " , Lau orders . Pleasure is always his first priority , but nothing would ever break rules of a contract ; He gives , he receives . Even taking him to Sebastian is counted but , he's already thought of that . This young man seems quite entertaining and when he first stepped into his shop Lau was expecting him , a spacial guest

Lau doesn't really care about superstitions , but still enjoys his ambitious steps  . This guy had came to him just as expected and now , something about him tells Lau that getting him to Sebastian will bring him as well newer faces to meet...what an entertaining day it would be

Feat : Tanaka

Jamil is... about to lose his mind . Caught in a whole other world without a meaningful explanation of how he ended up here or why . Magic doesn't work and there is no certain way to scape this situation and make a return to NRC . But the worst thing about it remained certain : He is caught with Kalim

Why in the bloody hell does he always have to be hooked up with Kalim ? Parents forced him into it at childhood , headmaster orders to it at school and now , the world suddenly decides to abandon him together with Kalim ? If it's joke , that's a pretty lame one . Why does he have to live in the shadows of Kalim being the unworthy dorm leader ?

Now lost in the streets , not knowing where to go or who to contact , what a wonderful way to start a day

Kalim isn't liking it at all : dirty streets , loud and short tempered people , street fight and drunk men everywhere , the smell of death filling the air , this is horrible . Kalim is well aware of poverty and deprivation lasting for so long and even remaining until the very present day , but traveling back in time and space to face one of the most terrifying levels of it just isn't his thing . He feels sorry and odd at the same time : Is this how life behind of the walls of his royal castle looked like ? He wishes he could help it . He probably could if he was any linked to NRC right now

He keeps on telling Jamil how poor they look and wonder if there is a way to help...The world Kalim knows has elegant and colorful nights and days but this world...was all caught in a dead gray mist

Jamil doesn't say a word because he doesn't want to listen , Kalim can keep on daydreaming but he has to find a way back a.s.a.p . They can't leave Scarabia just on their own and everyone (including Kalim's Dad) must be really stressed out by now . He continues to look , but there isn't really anything helpful around them . People yelling at each other and smoking the shit out of themselves . Young ladies flirting as young men offer them a carriage ride and tourists staring at each and every building like they hadn't ever seen a place to live inside as if they've been living in a cave so far , huh

Jamil can no longer take it next to Kalim and eventually goes feral : " WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP !!?" He has no control over his words now , he's nervous , furious and freaked out . If he were to compare his mood to something similar he'd say the time he overblotted , just that he had his magic back then

Now Kalim as well gets into a fight with him . What the hell does this have to do with him ? Jamil has to calm down and be realistic unless they'll never find a way out ! Jamil states that if he grew up just enough to realize how terrible their current situation is , he would've had something better to do than showing mercy over some bunches of street rats

The two of them keep on arguing until someone cuts them of : " Hohoho young men ! What's with all these loud sounds ?"

They stop and turn back to face the source of this old , chill voice . Facing a tall , old man dressed in all black clothes which high-leveled servants would wear and a monocle , giving them a soft , calm smile

" Aa- nevermind grandps ! It wasn't like it seemed we were just talking ! Right Jamily ? " he says , putting a hand on Jamil's shoulder and giving a big , wide smile . "H-hey... don't call me that..." , Jamil doesn't like Kalim acting this chill ; but it is embarrassing to see that they actually called attention

"Hoho , better . Now tell me young men , could it be that you have a trouble ? You look awfully down ," Tanaka asks ; sounding just like a grandfather guiding his grandchildren

Kalim takes a look at Jamil , wondering if it's right to do what he's thinking of and Jamil in return , nods as a yes " Well sir , there you see we actually don't belong here yet to another-" Jamil cuts him off before he could mess the whole thing up : " -Another state , indeed ! We came here for some sort of a business trip and were supposed to be on our way back home by now but sadly , ran into thieves . Our families must be really worried for now and I doubt them being sure of us being hooked up here . We lost everything and have no way to contact anyone we know... only if someone nice enough could be found to help us with it right now ," Jamil dropped his head , trying to act as natural as possible . Kalim wants to remind him that this isn't right to lie someone who is trying to help them yet he wonders if he should let Jamil take care of this now , after all he was much of a worthier leader than him to be honest...

" That's so sad to hear dear boy , I'm sure that young master as well would've been really frustrated if he were here ," Tanaka replies . Oh ? Young master ?  Jamil is now interested . Wherever this man came from , it can't be somewhere cheap , Jamil could tell . Leading them to a mightier source would be a better thing than just laying in the streets waiting for some miracle to save them right ? " Young master , you say ? " Kalim asks . " On the second thought , how about me introducing you to my master ? You're not much older than him I suppose , he as well needs to have more friends like you good men  ," Tanaka says with a sweet smile . " That'll be so nice of you um , Mr...? " Jamil asks " Tanaka is fine young boys . And you? "  " Jamil Viper ," " Kalim al Asim ! Glad to meet you Tanaka sir ! " Kalim says , bringing his hand for Tanaka to shake . Tanaka shakes hands with both of them and Jamil decides to make the process a bit faster : " I look forward to meeting this young master you say , Mr. Tanaka . It's always great to meet more men of culture ," Jamil sneakers . " Then by all means , follow me young men ," Tanaka says . With a sound of pop and some smoke , the tall man shrinks into a chibi version : " Ho , ho , ho ," " What the-!!!" Kalim panicks , no magic and yet this dude can shrink all of a sudden huh ?

" Ho ho," chibi Tanaka says before turning back and going to another direction . " I guess we should follow him," Jamil says . Kalim agrees and then , they're both following the chibi old man to the Phantomhive's mansion . Unaware of the two eyes watching them all this time : " Hihihi ~ they're quite interesting ,"

Feat : Grell Sutcliff & Ronald Knox

"Come oooon Ronald~ Shake your lazy ass and bring her along already..." " Oi senpai , that's mean ! This one's quite heavy-" "JUST SHUT UP AND DO THAT ! Don't you know it's rude to question ladies too much ? " " F-fine then , but at least give me a hand ! Have you even checked if she's dead !? " Heavy ? Dead ? She...? Vil isn't born to be disrespected like this . AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL GETS TO PULL HIM BY LEG WHEN HE'S ASLEEP

Vil immediately starts shouting at the Blondie , threating him that he'll regret it if he doesn't let go of him now . Ronald and Grell almost have a heart attack at Vil's chicken like screech which makes them jump

Vil snads up and glares at the two shinigamis : A really ugly female like one all dressed in red and a small blondie brat which looks like...eh..Azul ? Well nevermind ; doesn't matter now

What should he begin with ? Where he is ? Who these potatoes are and how they didn't recognize him being the leader of Pomefiore ? How perky they were to move him while asleep like this and ruin fabric of his overly expensive unforms ? Too many things to do

" Ah you're too loud ! My ears...Such an unexpected shout to hear from a man this hot I'd say..." Grell giggles . Vil's eyes widen , well of course he is beautiful but to be praised like that ? Ew , this is more of a insult ...

Vil decides to ignore Grell and get to the main point : Who they were and what they wanted . Grell smirks before preparing to give a 5 hour long opera show of shinigamis' romance but Ronald locks him on that point : They are shinigamis , they collect souls of the death , they had grabbed Vil because he looked a bit like the woman they were just going to collect yet didn't pay enough of attention to notice that they made a mistake , so they can all leave since they've got nothing to do with each other

Just before Ronald could get away Vil grabs him by collar , asking where they've brought him to . Grell clears that they just moved him by 30-40 meters from where they found him so it can't be really counted as bringing him to somewhere . Vil refuses to believe , wherever he is , it's way further than Pomefiore dorm or even NRC's accessable area ; that can't be . Vil threatens them one more time : " You refuse to tell , you'll end up dealing with the headmaster ," Grell and Ronald probably don't know who the headmaster is but Grell tries to take advantage : "Aaa? Is he one into punishing type ?" Vil is slowly getting annoyed by how weird this red one sounds to him ; To be honest he acts like an impatient porn star or something...

That's it , he's calling Crowley but uh , where is his phone ? Did he lose it ? Impossible . He'll never forget such an important thing to bring along ... Did these brats dare to steal his pockets....!? Vil asks them to give his phone and wallet back : now " Sir , you may like to know that human money brings no good for us and also , I'm afraid that I don't really know what you may mean by phone? " Ronald mumbles (Remember that phone isn't yet invited at their time ). Why don't this guy just let them go take care of their business ?

Vil hates it when people dare opposing him and doesn't ever take that lightly...who do these two think they are ? " Where is Night Raven College , answer or you'll face unpleasant consequences..." Is Vil challenging Grell ? Then Grell's more than ready to see what this human may have up his slave to speak to a shinigami like this : " And what may the consequences be...?" Vil gets tired , a small spell and this red ass bitch would be nothing but a toad , " I tried to warn you , you should've listened..."

Ahem , hello ? Magic ? Why isn't it working ? " Pffffffftttt- Lmao are you high or something man ? You just woke up !You'll be a great actor though I swear- You can drown in all that nonsense ," Grell laughs . " Well then hottie , I'm afraid we've got to go , see you when it's your time ~ " Grell turns to leave but Vil grabs him by collar . No one is leaving until they explain what the actual heck is going on : this place , the magic , everything

Grell on the other hand enjoyed flirting , but can't take being acted to like this . He pushes Vil back and gives him a psychotic smile , bringing up his chainsaw : " Wouldn't it be amazing if I cut those rushy tongue of yours at once ? fewer words , more of a male charm ," "Oh ?" magic may not work here , but they're not all Vil has got , he can still give this bitch guy a lesson without them : " Oi you two , this isn't really gonna workout-" Ronald mumbles but it's too late now -

Feat : Undertaker

At least he wakes up to a more suitable scene , or it seems so - His body couldn't move freely inside of this cage-like space . Is this a cuffin...? He has experience with them from his freshman year but to end up in one of them again ? Could it be that Crowley is planning on another fancy event like their first time ? Boy , he didn't like it anyway . He knocks the door trying to open it but if seems too heavy to be moved . Damnit- , he hears footsteps from the outside : " Someone there ? Why can't I open this ??" A sudden screech from out and the door slides open : " Ah thank yoUWAHAAAA- !!" Idia screams at the sight of the creepy stranger's smile at him ; he wasn't expecting this . Also , this place doesn't look like the mirror hall ? Who is this guy and where is this place ??

" Hihihi you weren't that dead I see , why waking up so soon though~ ?" , Undertaker giggles in his playful tone . Idia needs too many things to be explained to him but he just doesn't have the time , Crewel will burn him in acid if he gets any late for his class again and he doesn't care how weird his current situation is , he has to go

He gets out of the coffin and rushes to the door but Undertaker stops him there telling him not to show up out there so carelessly , which clearly confuses Idia . " Your hair...It is quite fascinating that curses remain strong even as magic gets blocked..." Undertaker adds . Idia is used to people judging him for his family misfortune but this one seemed quite...odd . He decides to ignore it and leave

" ~ Okies then I warned you , but you'll end up needing a real cuffin in a few minutes pwahahaaa-" , Undertaker burts into laughter and Idia leaves

" creepy ass old ma-" , Idia nags slowly before freezing as someone screams really-loudly right into his ears " HAIR ON FIRE , HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE !!" Before Idia can notice what is going on he's gained tens of gazes to himself , why are these guys all dressed so strangely...

" M-mummy is that a monster ? I'm scared..." " Stay away from our children you hellish creature ! " Idia freezes , critiques coming one after one : Demon , monster , Satan , Death . One option left : Run

Idia now has to run for his life , this world just isn't his thing : not at all . Even if it weren't because of being chased by a group of angry humans , do you think that he could last for even one day in this old fashioned zone ? No technology , no phones , no robots , no gummy bears , no wifi- He'd read about how different the world was before the invention of media and couldn't explain how thankful he was to never have to handle a second in the past world because he wouldn't last there for more than an hour- well he wasn't right about never ending up there but , he was 100% right about not lasting for more than an hour

Now there , he is running like he never has , begging his feet to help him this time out of any other time . Angry people screaming and bringing fire and weapons to destroy the evil

He tries to contact any possible source for help but : No magic - no internet . RIP Idia

Meanwhile Undertaker is chilling at his shop , his mind running over the cursed boy and now listening to the sound of the frightened people because of him , how pathetic , If only he had agreed to hide his hair through a safer way...sigh he should have listened to advises coming from someone who has been living within humans for years by hiding his identity as a shinigami as as his eyes... " My my , humans aren't the only fragile creatures I see..." creation can seem disturbing to him sometimes , and that's the best part with it

Back to Idia , he is slowly running out of breath . Well maybe this is the point where he has to give up ? He has long lived as a loser , bastard , procrastinator and wasted almost each and every second of his life ; well perhaps except Ortho , that was a nice work of him . Wish he was here too say goodbye .  He isn't sure if his prayers would be accepted or not but it won't hurt trying : " Good gods who're told to be somewhere up there , I know that I wasn't best that I could be and I won't try to excuse my sins ; just please let it end fast, Ame- " he forgets his prayers as his guardian angel is standing just a few meters away from him ; oh have gods sent an identical twin - human version of Leona for him to be saved ? Well whatever now , he has no time if he's the original furry or not : "LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!"

And yes , he is the original one ! He curses as he sees the population after Idia , what the hell is wrong with this world ? Idia hides behind his back and Leona tries to take control before they end up burning the two of them together : " You people , chill ," " Why you defending that creature ? He a a misfortune ! A demon !" others shout at this words in agreement . Leona laughs it off . He says that Idia is way too dumb for a demon and even if he is one , he's the type to scream his ass off when someone says "hi" . Idia doesn't know if Leona's defending him or not but he doesn't dare saying a word . Leona seems too busy dealing with the crowd and slowly , the argument topic switches from Idia to Leona ; who isn't afraid of punching some faces . The argument slowly takes over and no one (even Leona) realizes Idia sneaking into an alley saving his life . He feels a bit guilty for leaving Leona on his own but he'll be fine , hopefully

Thankfully the alley is deserted and he finally lays down to catch his breath , still panting heavily . He almost got killed today and can't get over it , but things were getting a bit comforting : "Meow~" several cats show up from the corners and Idia puts on a small smile . A white kittens comes closer and allows Idia to touch and comfort him . Idia wonders , how does their lives as a cat here feels ? do they as well get as scared as he was just now?  . A few minutes later when Idia -and his cats- were chilling someone steps closer to them  . Before Idia gets to run away , a tall , black and familiar face shows up and gives him a pretty calm smirk : " My my , I see you as well adore cats, could it be some part of our hellish natures ?"

"...J-Jade...?"

Feat : Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis

Let us be honest , it isn't going to be that bad for him , is it ? His current lifestyle at Valley of the thorns is nothing less than London's late 19th century , just maybe it had more of a natural theme . Well , no technology can be good news since he never really get used to it after all . London's atmosphere as well seem to be just his thing : Sometimes savage but calm , filled with tea parties and great ceremonies , an interesting back ground toward the royal family and in summary , Malleus's ideal theme

Well maybe except some things : 1) HORNS-ARE-GONE . His family treasure , the great heritage that proved him coming from the all great and respected Draconia family , now is gone 2) No need to mention that there is no sight of his fairy ears either- 3) Having his magic lost in this unknown world , he is now nothing different from a fragile human being , just as weak , just as empty , just as disgusting . Oh but our prince isn't totally left on his own here...

Unexpectedly , Phantomhive's mansion is serving a mysterious guest today , even though Ciel was against letting strangers inside the house . Sebastian insisted on being aware of the importance of hospitality as the Queen's watch dog , specially with special guests

Everything seems odd to Malleus , this world , this time , this people and...this master and butler . He is no fool , not even the foolishest of these humans would treat and cater strangers without wanting something in return , therefore he needs to keep his guard up . They shouldn't be aware of his actual identity even if they look deprived of any magic

Ciel is feeling awfully uncomfortable , who is this man ? And what the heck about him might have caught Sebastian's eyes ? This greedy demon wouldn't easily be impressed , so what could it be ?

Sebastian insists that it's how he should learn to treat everyone else if he's willing to be well remembered after death ; he pronounces the last word in a pretty deep , dark tone . Making it clear that how he'll finally die in a sarcastic way which teased Ciel

He decides not to have any argues with Sebastian on that point since he can act pretty cocky with stuff he gets stubborn over , so let's see what he's hiding up in sleeve this time . Though Ciel is suspicious of other stuff as well , this Mr... -whatever he is since he doesn't give them a name- looks like a pale - greenish version of Sebastian . Could he be another demon..?

Malleus refuses to give them a name due to possible risks , yet he has to admit that he's being taken care of properly . The room he's given isn't as big as the one in his castle , but is still considerable for something a stranger would be given . Other than that , anyone else he's met here so far seemed to be pretty chill , oh except this tiny child with a blindfold and he gets to be called young master ? He has to admit that he's impressed . To be in control of all this property when you aren't yet even tall enough to pick your favorite book from the shelf on your own

And there is another guy who is really...how to explain , is it some feeling of deja Vu or he really does look like Silver ? The guy is always talking to the snakes just as Silver talks to the birds and animals . If it weren't because of difference in eye color , perhaps Malleus wouldn't believe that he wasn't Sliver himself . " Your stay won't last much longer master , your friends are on their way here , says Donne ," Snake tells him . Malleus doesn't really know how to feel about him but his words comfort him for some reason...

Ciel says that he needs to check on the trio since they've been calling him all day so he heads to the front yard , leaving Sebastian and Malleus alone

Sebastian offers him some tea and Malleus of course sees no reason to refuse . Sebastian doesn't sit beside him because it's arrogant of servants to sit beside the guests , so he remains stood up . He doesn't bother starting a conversation with Malleus and he does know how to get him to speak . Malleus doesn't mind answering to...some of his questions . How he likes it here in London , if he needs anything else during his stay , but the last question made his eyes widen : Does he do feel any uncomfortable under the terms of not being able to use his powers ?

Malleus doesn't answer , he pretends that he didn't hear him and stares at the window . He is hoping it to help him ignore Sebastian , but what he sees isn't any better :  Isn't that... Rosehearts laying there...??

Malleus has to go , not only because of getting rid of Sebastian at this point but to also check on his ally if he's alright or not :  Did the butler know he too was here all the time ?

Sebastian just knows what was going on in his mind and wants  better answers . Malleus stands up to leave but Sebastian takes grabs his arm before he could do anything : " No need to rush . We still have a lot to talk about , Mr. Draconia ,"

♦♥♠♣

Note for Idia's part : I was actually planning on Idea having his hair as well gone because , well , no magic no hair ? But that seemed too unfair for him lol

[survivedsarchived]

maybe he shouldn't be surprised. maybe he isn't; the time and distance between them has given tommy plenty of time to think. reconsider. much of his anger towards joel has softened, to a degree — much of it, he's come to realize, wasn't really intended for joel, but himself. marlene. the fireflies. the whole goddamn world. years of bitter resentment chipping away at his resilience until tommy thought it was all gone — but maria reignited that spark. made him feel alive in the dark parts of him he thought would never see the light again; then, a single thought lingered. i wish joel could have this, too.

he thought, maybe... some day... tess could help joel find that. tommy feels an ache in his chest at the thought of her, and he knows it's nothing compared to the grief his brother carries, but it's real and sharp nonetheless, the edge of death's unforgiving scythe.

i helped joel - tommy can't help but laugh. it's not a harsh sound; henry's a certifiable stranger, but there's something about him that doesn't make it difficult to imagine; he seems smart. not many other ways you make it this long and this far.

“you're a kid yourself to an old fuck like him, y'know.” tommy arches a brow, grinning, but the ache in his chest that had begun with tess only intensifies — because he knows henry's right. joel would do anything for that girl (and he can't deny that that terrifies him a little bit).

“way you tell it... sounds a lil' like how i felt on outbreak day.” the corners of his mouth turn downward just slightly, smile darkening to something rueful, and tommy folds his arms across his chest, almost protectively — guarding himself against the memory. “—yeah, joel saved my life that day. i got locked up after some... stupid fight, and he came and bailed me out. probably woulda got infected, if i'd stayed. a small space like that... nowhere to go. and after....” he exhales a sharp breath through clenched teeth, tongue clicking. “we're all survivors. it's what we do now. he helped y'all, y'all helped him, however you wanna put it, y'all survived.”

he knows it's not that simple, that the guilt won't just suddenly stop — but it's for the people they've lost that they keep going. he understands that now.

“look, none'a this is ever gonna be easy,” tommy says. “some of it shouldn't be. but the things that should... sometimes, they ain't. i struggled when i first got here. some days, i still feel it, creepin' up like a fuckin' shadow. it feels too... open, some days. others, this place is a box, and i gotta get out.”

his eyes have widened, voice low, hard — he's never told anyone but maria before, and he can't explain why he tells henry — there's simply an inexplicable need to be truthful burning in his throat.

he blinks, and his expression softens in apology. “but you're safe here. just remember that, and... take it a day at a time. 's all we can ever do.”

joel didn't have much to say about his brother, but henry imagined that was more about his hesitance to open up more than it had been about tommy himself. he was curious, though -- because just as he saw the fatherly instincts in joel, he saw the big brother instincts, too, and it's one of the many reasons he had gravitated to the man so early on -- enough to trust him with their lives, on a journey to a destination he hadn't been sure of until they arrived.

jackson was nothing like he imagined was out there. better than kc, that was easy to imagine -- but this? kids laughing, people working together, easy smiles painted across these citizen's faces. it's not just a place that's granted them shelter; it's home. and maybe henry doesn't deserve that kind of comfort.

❝  actually, i helped joel, ❞ he corrects, a grin spreading over his features, just as it had when he first approached tommy's brother: you need me; you can't get out of the city without me. and that was true, for the most part; henry took pride in that. he wasn't a violent man, but at least he knew the city -- and at least he had something to help him get by. but his smile drops after a moment, and he shrugs his shoulders. ❝  okay, so we helped each other, ❞ he corrects himself. ❝ guess it was easy for us to trust each other, you know, with the kids and all. he seemed a lot like me. willing to do anything for her. ❞ and in the time it took to get here, henry had gathered that it might not even be something joel realized himself, but it is something that brought henry closer to him.

❝  yeah, see, truth is, our last day in kansas city --- fuck, i don't even know how many times he saved me and sam's lives. both of 'em, yeah, could've been real bad if they weren't lookin' out for us. ❞  he glances around, his internal clock alerting him to check on sam, who was holding ellie's hand across the street as she watched him pet a dog. he smiles, but there's something sad to his look before he continues. ❝ we weren't supposed to make it outta there alive. i know it, i felt it. so, yeah, your brother helped us. but 'helped' sure as hell feels like an understatement, ❞ he says honestly, his eyes finally meeting tommy's again. ❝ never seen a clicker before i met him. not up close, but -- that shit never leaves your brain, does it? ❞

he scoffs, shaking his head. ❝  not sure anyone else did, ❞ he mumbles. kathleen might've led them all to victory--- then promptly to their deaths. there's no satisfaction in that for henry; not when he had supported their cause, for the most part ( until it had turned on him, but he knows he deserved that, too. ) ❝  wasn't much living goin' on there. not like there is here. how the hell do you even get used to a place like this? ❞ it's an honest question, because while henry's voice is steady, his hands tremble just slightly. he doesn't deserve a place like this, and now he wonders if it's just too good to be true, anyway.