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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years

Text

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

#genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact #exile.flower #sojourner special #genshin impact venti #gender neutral #this one is weird #very short #big oof #ACCIDENTALLY POSTED AGAIN

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Kjæreste (King Liam x f!MC)

Summary: They have a day all to themselves full of love and cute moments of togetherness🧡

Kjæreste: (Norwegian) Dearest, Beloved One; Term of endearment for one's romantic partner😍

A/N: This is the giveaway prize for my lovely @parkdoesthings who won a place in my followers and birthday celebration giveaway. Wren, I hope you like it and the way I used the prompts you gave me. Writing them for the first time made me nervous as well as happy. Really hoping that you like this🧡

Prompts used: @parkdoesthings gave me the prompts "I missed you, so much" kisses + dessert. In addition to these, I have used Prompt 3, 14 and 16 from this prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting. Feel free to send in more requests, I am always accepting!🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤎

Pairing: King Liam Rys X f!MC (Odette Dawson)

Word Count: around 2K

Rating: General

Category: Fluff

Triggers: A few curse words (Just 1 or 2)

OTHER WORKS

The golden hues filtered through the strains of the satin drapes, filling the place like the aroma of a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The birds taunted each other playfully, all lost in their plays. A few of them beckoned her to join them.

She certainly would have, if she had those mystic spells, radiating sparkles on clicking her fingers, turning into an appealing blue jay, adorning herself in the summery blues and whites, just like the sky right now.

She had been lying awake for quite some time now, sleep being a long-lost pal. The silk of her covers ran like water under her fingers, and if it were someone who had not been accustomed to it, the sensation would have been enough to cradle them into a deep siesta.

Finally, she pushed herself to get up. The gentle sloshing of water around her as she gently placed down herself into the dreamy tints of the bathroom soothed her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt as if she was in a pond amidst a forest, all alone enjoying the tranquillity, as the woody scents dazzled her senses and the solitary rose petals caressed her skin.

It was unwinding and comforting, not to live by a schedule, blabbering all day around with stupid dignitaries or argue about some variety of apples.

Ugh, Apples!

The only downside of marrying the king of Cordonia that she could think of. She could go on about her list of grievances she had with apples, but right now, if she thought about them for a second more, she would throw up.

And when in Loire Valley, never think of those gross little piece of mischief, she made it her motto.

Especially when they make you vomit.

The soft pink fabric fluttered in the merry breeze, the net covering her hands, making her look as elegant as the chandelier that now adorned her majestic room, every thread glowing like diamonds on a bracelet.

She gives a twirl, she wants to feel the fluffiness of the holiday, but yet she couldn't.

Not when there is someone she has been waiting for, eagerly, unabatingly.

Now and then, she would pick her cream-coloured cellular, glide to the balcony, leaning down to make out the appearance of a car, her chestnut brown locks dancing joyfully.

A shrill cajoled her out of her reverie, and her heart leapt to a beat of joy.

The soft music playing in the room seemed even more melodious to her as her feet lead her to the doorway with a swift dance-like motion.

She opened the door, the dazzling smile brightening up her face like a 100-watt bulb.

Only to find the waiter standing there with her breakfast.

Her face fell as if it was not a royal buffet, but trays full of apples in front of her.

And when the waiter blushed thinking that he was the reason for her joy, her anger built up like the pressure in a pressure cooker.

She knew a stream of rudeness would escape if she opened her mouth, hence she sealed her lips, put on the exercised smile and stepped aside for him to enter.

Breakfast was other-worldly. She had quite forgotten the sheer deliciousness a classic French breakfast carried in itself.

Her mouth was an adobe of butter, chocolate and coffee, and all her objections vanished with a bite of that melt-in-mouth croissant.

The weather showed a solemn change as the white were replaces by greys and the golden slowly muted down.

She didn't really love rains, any season for that matter, but she could deal with everything. She decided to go down for a stroll, deciding that she had little to do in this room all by herself.

The softness of the Earth under her shoes, the multitude of colours in front of her soft brown eyes, the splendid fragrances filling her nostrils, the melody of nature playing in a loop in her ears and the sweetness of the solitude making her heart flutter.

All her senses were enamoured as she twirled around the gigantic flower garden.

A golden yellow butterfly greeted her by landing on one of her fingers, wanting to hold her finger and take her on a tour around her adobe.

Both of them silently exchanged a few words, and Odette happily agreed to get enamoured by the fluttery beauties and silky petals.

But she hadn't taken a step when two palms softly covered her eyes. She was startled but knew better than to scream. Her heart told her that it was someone she knew and not someone who would try to harm her.

As if someone would even be able to get past the heavy security

Her ringed hand gently reached for the hands which were still placed on her eyes. She felt them, a metallic feel of a ring, gave her a serotonin boost. Her heart danced and the smile that was waiting for its chance finally spread on her face, making her look like a goddess.

With a gentleness equal to the one when they were placed, Odette removed the hands, didn't even bother to open her eyes and kissed the person behind her with so much love that one would have melted into golden honey by its power.

But he didn't.

Their love wasn't cancelling out each other, it was multiplying to become so powerful that it would engulf them forever.

Placing the foreheads together, Odette finally opens her orbs, which shone like brilliant diamonds, to look up at the person whose arrival she awaited. The blush that spreads on both of their faces is automatic.

He twirls the stray lock that adorned her beauty around his finger, his hand, the ringed one, tightly wrapped around her silk regalia.

"I missed you so much! You know how impatient I am, and yet, you made me wait." Odette whines lovingly, the smile never leaving even through her complaint.

"I am sorry, Ette! There was an emergency apple-themed event-"

Odette's eyes narrowed, and an unamused pout took the place of the preceding grin.

"Can we please skip the apple talks, please? I did not come here to escape about those vomit-inducing pieces of shit."

All the while, Liam chuckled, always amused by the thought that out of everyone, he fell in love with that gorgeous lady who hated apples.

"Soo... Now that you are finally here, what are we supposed to do? Just stand here staring at each other?"

"I mean, that wouldn't be bad either."

"C'mon, Li! I didn't travel all the way to here to stand and stare at you. I already do that, every time, at Cordonia." Even though she had spoken it matter-of-factly, it made him blush and grin.

Even more because he had been doing the same, every moment she had been with him, right from the day he met her.

But he had always been a hopeless romantic, she had not.

Whenever Odette told him that he was the one who had made her realize that love and soulmates actually exist, his heart would start running a marathon in his chest. He still couldn't comprehend how someone like him had ended up getting someone like her as his queen.

Every poem, every romantic song, pales in front of the hues of their love, and since words were not enough to express it, he made sure to show it to her, every day, every time, every moment of his life.

"We will do whatever you want to do! This vacation is all about you, after all." He said as she linked her arms into his, but not before she made a wordless promise to the butterfly that she would come back and go on the tour.

As Liam led them towards the car, Odette pulled him back.

"Not the car, Mr Rys. Loire valley has enigmatic forests, and if we are not doing a forest trail, we will seriously miss out on the greatest beauty, the beauty of nature."

And he was in awe, again.

This is the side of Odette that makes her the queen he wanted by his side. How much respect and appreciation she has for everything, especially nature. He happily gave in to her demand.

The soft crunch of some dried leaves and the earthy scents enveloped the area. It wasn't secluded, now and then, the excited chirps and melodious tweets of the feathered beings spread through the air.

Odette's eyes joyfully travelled all around her, the multitude of chrome spreading a happy surprise through her heart.

"My Queen"

She looked up at him, their browns dissolving into each other.

"You know what these hues remind me of?"

"What?" She asked in a silent whisper.

"You."

"Your colours. The multi-chrome of your attributes, and the elegance they add to your persona. They make you charismatic"

"Liam, Yours is the only colour I want to get painted in."

Their lips meet like muscle memory, without any initiation. It was a reflex registered in the record book of their cerebrum.

Their thoughts entangled, arm around each other, the trail ended before they realized. They were now standing in front of the eight o'clock café.

"It isn't eight o'clock yet, but there is something special I've got arranged in here for you." Odette winked, pulling him in.

A few silent whispers later, Odette took Liam to the secluded first floor of the café, only for him to get the surprise.

The arrangement was a large table with his favourite board games, Carcassonne and Scrabble, neatly arranged on it. If he had been a kid, he would have screamed up and down, and circle danced with her.

No one had ever done something like this for him, and he doubted someone ever would.

Well, except her.

The next hours were filled with mindless laughs, funny fights, fake waves of anger and joyful screams.

The voids between those were filled with delicious coffee and melt-in-mouth gelato that had been specially arranged, again by Ette.

She had ordered flavours he had not heard of, and with the constant consumption, he had become a fan of the chocolate fondente flavoured one.

Utterly tired of the endless rounds of gameplay, they finally took their leave while thanking the people their generously for bearing their shenanigans.

Who would have guessed that board games would be so much fun even after years of not playing?

Not them, definitely.

"Just one more spot, and then we will go back, I promise." Odette winked, again.

He doubted if he would ever be able to refuse to her enigma even if he wanted to. One look and he would do anything to make her smile the way he likes.

The surprise that emerged in front of him posed such a stark contrast to the one before that for a moment he felt like he had got a tour of the polar opposites.

His eyes travelled up to the dazzling Ferris Wheel, standing majestically up before them.

"Just executing my idea of experiencing opposites in a day, that's it."

He wanted to kiss her as his life depended on it. But before he could get hold of her, she was already rushing towards the ticket counter, and he followed.

It was the last ticket, and gladly, they had managed to get it. They rushed to enter their cabin, hand in hand, adsorbing the cheerful air around.

The view that met their eyes was heavenly, like a piece of God's adobe fixed neatly amidst the man's land. Their eyes shifted once outside, and the next minute they found themselves staring at each other, eyes sparkling like stars of the endless sky.

She was his flower moon, the happiness and love she brings to his life matching with the fertility and flowers May brings with itself, which is what the Flower Moon symbolizes.

She shines differently from everyone, a unique sight for anyone who lays their eyes upon her, dazzling brilliantly.

The brilliance that pales every obstacle, every pain with the power of her love, she was destined to stay with him forever.

The wordless promise he made holding her hand, that he would fight with the worst if it was to keep her in his heart's labyrinth.

She was the one who made his heart beat, after all.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @jessiembruno

Liam x Odette: @anotherbeingsworld @ao719 @hopelessromanticmonie @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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Italian Doomers BRETUS Tell Ghostly Tales on New LP, ‘Magharia’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Artwork by DamianaMerante

Hailing from the City of the Two Seas, Italian doomers BRETUS return with a new album of ghost stories. Longtimers know that Bretus and Doomed & Stoned practically grew up together. Though the band has been active since the turn of the century, our first exposure came with their debut full-length 'In Onirica' (2012) and subsequently we formed a friendship with the Catanzaro doomers that continues to this very day. It's hard to believe they're already over two decades old (okay, 20 years young, if you like). And what do they have to show for it? A handful of LPs, an EP, and a split with fellow Italianos Black Capricorn.

If you're as much a fan of vintage horror movies, H.P. Lovecraft lore, mysticism, and the occult as Zagarus (vox), Ghenes (guitar), Janos (bass), and Striges (drums), there's a whole world of story and sound awaiting your deep dive into the Bretus catalog. Adding to their already excellent discography, a fifth album now reveals itself: 'Magharia' (2021).

I won't spoil my interview with the band (see below) if I tell you that the album concerns, shall we say, several tales of the supernatural variety. An ominous gong is struck to the backdrop of monastic chant as Magharia opens in epic fashion "Celebration of Gloom," a song characterized by a chugging proto-trash tempo, trve metal stylings, and Gothic vocals appropriate to it's subject. It's a rather grim account of a certain sacrilegious priest and his daliences with young women of the church. As a preacher's kid, I've seen this kind of thing play out a hundred times and can assure you these sweeping romances between clergy and laity never end well. In this case, it winds up with a ghoulish rite and a victim's vengeance.

"In the sky lightning strikes...wicked laments rise from the ground." Welcome to "Cursed Island." True to the spirit of the lyrics, this track really let's it all hang out, with quasi operatic vocals that occasionally erupt in maniacal laughter (reminding me vintage Reagers-era Saint Vitus, with its lusty swagger). And why not? This is after all about the mystery that surrounds one of the most haunted islands on earth.

Thus far, the record's been sporting a pretty up-beat pulse, so surely you're ready for some good old fashion doom? "Moonchild's Scream" concerns a albino girl accused of being possessed by the devil for her appearance. One day, she disappears in the dungeons of a castle and legend has it that her cries can still be heard every five years during the Summer Solstice. Doesn't get more doom than that, folks!

After a brief interlude ("Necropass"), we arrive at my favorite track of Magharia. "Nuraghe" concerns the spirit of a woman judged and condemned for a crime she was innocent of still roams among the ancient stones. Boy, the ancients sure did have a hang-up with free-spirited, independent women, didn't they? The song itself is possessed by the spirit of Pentagram in its biting guitar work and rhythmic attack. Love the riffage on this one! Some of it could have been played out just a little more for my taste, like the all-too-brief Soundgardenesque motif at the two-minute mark. It returns a minute later, again in brief. C'mon Ghenes, let your inner Kim Thayil loose! Maybe we can convince them to improv at this point with a bitchin' guitar solo at their next festival appearance. Then again, perhaps this fits artistically with the song, which speaks of obscure "grim dancing bats" and a ghost that haunts through swift shadows passing over glimmers of light. Once again, Zagrus expressive song style comes through to distinguish this as a gem of the genre. I shall be revisiting it on my personal playlist often.

"Headless Ghost" strikes graceful Goatsnake groove as the yarn is spun about the restless and tormented soul of an ancient Roman warrior who has risen from his place of rest. All he wants is the skull that was looted from his place of burial. Give it back to him! "No one will be spared tonight," the lyrics warn, as the song shifts down to a dire doom dirge as the night unveils a strange moon and the wanderings of a cursed soul, seeking his head and not more. "He is living again in this hell."

"The Bridge of Damnation" is one of the creepiest of the record, said to be about "a bridge, a young boy, and his three torturers." The mood is quite dark, with esoteric atmosphere, reverberating vocalizations, guitar and bass trading off notes. Oh, and did I mention this tale from the crypt involves death and resurrection, as well? The riffmaking and drumming are absolutely on point, as is the singing -- which by now in the record I'm not only am accustomed to, but have grown to admire. Another keeper!

"Sinful Nun" winds and grinds as Zagarus croons about the inner torment of a Sister who has never gotten over her beloved, who died under such unspeakably tragic circumstances that she decided to consecrate herself to God in celibacy. However, her vows are in vain as she still pines for her long lost lover. The verses are sung to the accompaniment of a galloping tempo, which seems to represent the fevered anguish of a soul forever stricken by grief and the haunted memories of lost love. This is juxtaposed in the chorus by a cursed riff that seems to speak as the Hand of Fate itself. "Farewell to this life," are the Sinful Nun's final words.

At last, we reach the album's namesake and though "Magharia" is entirely instrumental, it would be a mistake to assume you know what it's going to do. Around the four-minute mark, I had to check and make sure I was listening to the same album, as dark synth busted out a metronomic rhythm, leading to a declamatory section of keyboards to accompany the math-like guitar play and an improvisation of almost creepy seventies-sounding prog, which after its playful fit dissipates suddenly in a bluesy collapse.

Bretus have cooked up a remarkable horror soundtrack that, though it speaks of ancient lore, is very much a fitting backdrop to the unreality of our own times. Fitting somewhere on the stylistic spectrum between Candlemass and Paul Chain, Reverend Bizarre and Cardinals Folly, Margharia may be the band's finest effort to date. Certainly, it rewards repeated listens, and will haunt you for many years to come. Look for the record to drop this weekend (pre-order here), with multiple physical formats releasing via The Swamp Records (compact disc), Burning Coffin Records (cassette), and Overdrive Records (vinyl). Until then, you can stream it all, right now, right here!

Give ear...

Magharia by BRETUS

An Interview with Bretus

What is the concept behind the new album and what themes do you explore?

Musically the new record is most "in your face" than the previous album. Also our approach to the recording was different. We rehearsed and arranged together more than before. The result is an album more raw to us. It is a concept album born around different italian old ghost tales. Some of these is supposed to be legend or myth, who knows.

When did you write it? Was it during the pandemic lockdowns?

We had more ideas about new stuff long before the pandemia arrived. We spent this time working on the pre-production of the tracks.

Can you give us a track-by-track explanation of each song on the album?

For sure!

"Celebration of Gloom" is a strange song because there are many influences in it. Including a solo flute in the middle of the track. However is a very loud and gloomy song.

"Cursed Island" probably is the most rock 'n' roll song of the album. If you know what I mean. Rock in the attitude. Also the first video of the album.

"Moonchild's Scream" is 100% pure Doom with a heavy mid-section.

"Necropass" is like Caronte travelling the damned souls across the Stige River.

"Nuraghe" is a heavy oriented track with a very dark feeling.

"Headless Ghost" has a more stoner trend than the others and in the end there is a psycho riffing.

"The Bridge of Damnation" includes our '80s dark influences into our sound, probably the most haunted track of the album. The story is based upon an old weird story that happened in our native city, Catanzaro.

"Sinful Nun" is like an experiment and neither of us can explain really what it is... ah ah aha! For sure the most heavy track of all.

Finally "Magharia." You cannot believe it but the idea comes from a Who's album, Quadrophenia. Either of us wrote a part of the song. The result is a kind of horror soundtrack.

Magharia by BRETUS

How do you feel that your basic style or approach to song composition has changed since you first started writing songs in the early days?

You already know a lot of things about us, we know you from so long ago! Please don't ask how old we are. (laughs) Basically our approach is the same from the beginning. Of course we listen to a lot of new stuff during these years so every album brings different "colors."

Where are you most looking forward to playing live once pandemic restrictions are eased?

Everywhere! We are angry for live gigs or simply to drink beers with friends.

Follow The Band

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#D&S Debuts #D&S Interviews #D&S Reviews #Bretus #Catanzaro #Italy #doom #metal #doom metal #horror #occult #stoner rock #HeavyBest2021 #Doomed and Stoned

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spohkh · 4 years

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Super important question! If you had to make a mixtape of the top 13 Taylor tracks about Dean and Cas, what songs would you choose?

OKAY THIS WAS SIMULTANEOUSLY SO HARD AND SO EASY TO DO. i rly wanted to get smth from every album but all except 3 are from rep to evermore fjsjfjsjfkfds oops :)c

anyhoo, in no particular order, my 13 taylor destiel tracks!

1. invisible string

time, mystical time, cuttin me open then healing me fine. were there clues i didn’t see? and isn’t just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? // hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

2. hoax

my only one, my smoking gun, my eclipsed sun, this has broken me down. my twisted knife, my sleepless night, my winless fight, this has frozen my ground. // my only one, my kingdom come undone, my broken drum, you have beaten my heart. don’t want no other shade of blue but you. no other sadness in the world would do. // your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in.

3. false god

we were crazy to think that this could work. remember how i said i’d die for you? we were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us. remember how i’d fly to you? // they warned us about times like this. they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith. // but we might just get away with it. religion’s in your lips, even if it’s a false god. we might just get away with it. the altar is my hips, even if it’s a false god. we’d still worship this love. // i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me, honey. hell is when i fight with you. but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you.

4. peace

and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child, give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother. // but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade, ocean wave blues come. all these people think love’s for show but i would die for you in secret.

5. dancing with our hands tied

i loved you in secret, first sight, yeah, we love without reason. my love had been frozen deep blue, but you painted me golden. // i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us. i’m a mess, but i’m the mess that you wanted. ‘cause it’s gravity keeping you with me. // i’d kiss you as the lights went out, swayin as the room burned down. i’d hold you as the water rushes in.

6. stay stay stay

you took the time to memorize me, my fears, my hopes, my dreams. i just like hangin out with you all the time. all those times that you didn't leave, it's been occurring to me i'd like to hang out with you for my whole life. stay, and i'll be lovin you for quite some time. no one else is gonna love me when i get mad, mad, mad, so i think that it's best if we both stay.

7. mine

do you remember we were sittin there, by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time. you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. you are the best thing that's ever been mine. flash forward, and we're takin on the world together, and there's a drawer of my things at your place. you learn my secrets and figure out why i'm guarded. you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes. // do you remember all the city lights on the water? you saw me start to believe for the first time.

8. willow

i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife. and if it was an open-shut case, i never would've known from that look on your face. lost in your current like a priceless wine. the more that you say, the less i know. wherever you stray, i follow. i'm beggin for you to take my hand, wreck my plans, that's my man. // wait for the signal and i'll meet you after dark. show me the places where the others gave you scars.

9. cowboy like me

eyes full of stars, hustlin for the good life, never thought i'd meet you here. it could be love, we could be the way forward, and i know i'll pay for it. // and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one, and the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town, but that was all before i locked it down. // i've had some tricks up my sleeve. takes one to know one, you're a cowboy like me. and i'm never gonna love again.

10. state of grace

and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. // you come around and the armor falls, pierce the room like a cannon ball. now all we know is don't let go. // so you were never a saint, and i've loved in shades of wrong. we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts. but this love is brave and wild. // this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight. // these are the hands of fate, you're my Achilles heel. this is the golden age of something good and right and real.

11. don’t blame me

don't blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn't you ain't doin it right. lord, save me, my drug is my baby i'll be usin for the rest of my life // somethin happened for the first time in the darkest little paradise... shakin, pacin, i just need you. // for you, i would cross the line, i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say, "she's gone too far this time." // my name is whatever you decide, and i'm just gonna call you mine. i'm insane, but i'm your baby. echoes of your name inside my mind, halo hidin my obsession. // and baby, for you, i would fall from grace just to touch your face. if you walk away, i'd beg you on my knees to stay.

12. cardigan

i knew you, dancin in your levi's drunk under a streetlight. // i knew you, your heartbeat on the high line, once in twenty lifetimes. // to kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. you drew stars around my scars // i knew you, steppin on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain. i knew you, tried to change the endin, peter losin wendy. i knew you, leavin like a father, runnin like water. // i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs ... knew i'd curse you for the longest time, chasin shadows in the grocery line, knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standin in my front porch light, and i knew you'd come back to me. you'd come back to me. you'd come back to me. you'd come back.

13. lover (Miracle on Cornelia Street AU theme song!!!)

there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. have i known you for 20 seconds or 20 years? // can i go where you go? can we always be this close? forever and ever. take me out, and take me home. you're my, my, my, my lover. // i'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you. i've loved you for three summers now, honey, but i want 'em all. // my heart's been borrowed and yours has ben blue. all's well that ends will to end up with you. swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover. and you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me, and at every table, i'll save you a seat, lover.

#thank u sarah!!! what is your list????#deancastiel #some of these could def be subbed out but i do have a few definites #like hoax and dont blame me and stay stay stay #adanceinasnowglobe #ask

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mars-in-chaos · 5 years

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Princess - J-Hope/Reader

j-hope one-shot

Summary: You can’t get over how lucky you are to be in a relationship with Jung Hoseok. And honestly? Getting to go to every show really isn’t as bad as one might think.

Themes: fluff, smut, brattiness, teasing?

Word Count: 2702

You didn’t expect your summer to go in the direction it had. You didn’t expect to be dragged around the globe, stopping in many different countries. You didn’t expect to be attending the same concert over and over and over again. You didn’t expect to enjoy it more and more every time. You didn’t expect your life to have taken the turn that it did.

Honestly, you didn’t expect to be in a relationship with Jung Hoseok either, but here you are. In a relationship with sunshine and rainbows personified and you’re still in shock and awe every time you think about it. A chance meeting at a small coffee shop, tucked away in the back corner of a less-frequented shopping plaza in the city where you work. A series of exchanged jokes and happy laughter, along with heartfelt smiles led you two to keep in contact. It wasn’t immediate, the feelings weren’t reciprocated instantaneously but they did grow. What started as an innocent friendship later blossomed into something more serious, between texts and FaceTime calls, whispered words of “I miss you” when he was away on the last tour. When he came back and had a few months for a break, when he went home to visit his family for his birthday, he stopped to see you as well, hugs and happy tears aplenty at that pleasant surprise.

Somewhere along the line, the feelings grew strong. You weren’t perfectly fluent in Korean, but he did always say that “language should be no barrier to love” and that meant more to you than anything. You both tried hard for each other, tried to learn each other’s languages so that barrier would be broken down.

When you traveled to South Korea initially, you were expecting to do your job and enjoy the culture. You would go to school each day and teach English to bright young minds who were eager to learn from their pretty young teacher. You would go home each evening and reflect on the day with your fellow English-speaking coworkers. You’d go out on the weekends and drink and dance at nightclubs, not a care in the world. Working hard all week long to ruin it all in that short forty-eight hours allotted to you at the end, and you loved it. You were happy with your life. New scenery, new experiences, new culture, new everything. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more.

And then Hoseok came into your life and flipped it around. But in the best way possible.

You were a fan of BTS prior to coming to Korea, their music was inspiring. It helped you to realize what you truly wanted to do with your life, and while your friends and family teased you relentlessly over your decision, you couldn’t be happier with it.

You never thought your decision would lead you to the best relationship you had ever been lucky enough to get into. You had only been together since February, dating on the super down low, but it was more than enough time, considering your extended friendship.

Hoseok is literally the sweetest man you’ve ever met, and you have had the pleasure of knowing all the men in BTS, so the competition is pretty strong. But somehow you are lucky enough to be with actual sunshine himself. ‘How the hell is this even re-‘

“Gongjunim!”

Your thoughts are interrupted by the cheerful sound of Hoseok’s voice calling you by that pet name you so dearly loved, albeit a little winded, having just finished FAKE LOVE.

“Hobi! You did so amazing! I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” you say with a wink, smiling devilishly. You had been alone in your thoughts, but your eyes had been on him the entire time, standing in the wings of the stage, off to the side just enough that the audience couldn’t see you but still within the sight of the mainstage.

He shoots you a cheeky grin and runs over to you, excited to see you even though you hadn’t left your spot since he went on. Throwing your arms around his neck, not caring the least bit about the sweat on his face, you plant a big kiss on his cheek, lifting your legs off the ground as you hang on him.

“Are you a monkey, gongjunim?” he asks with a grin, wrapping his arms around your waist and swinging you around. You narrowly miss a stray speaker and you squeal loudly, catching a few stray glares from various staff members. You know that you should be quieter but over the sound of Yoongi singing Seesaw, you have a feeling that you’re in the clear. At least for now. But all the same he puts you down, both of you laughing happily as you try to regain your composure.

He stares at you with a wide smile on his face. Your laughter is the sweetest music to him, your smile more beautiful than any constellation in the night sky, and he can’t help but think about how lucky he is to have you. And he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the night, watching you, being with you, just existing next to you. He frowns slightly, knowing how hard it is for the two of you to be together under the close eye of the fans.

You look over at him and shake your head, that big smile still plastered across your face. You reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it lightly as you pick up on what is whirling around in his head.

“Hobi. Babe, we have all day tomorrow to be together. As far as ARMY knows, I’m just another staff member,” you say reassuringly, disappointment lightly painting your tone. It’s hard not to be even just a little bit upset over having to be so secretive with your relationship, but it’s known how crazy fans can be and you’ve heard stories.

He gives you a half-hearted grin and starts, “I know, but-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss, standing on your tiptoes. Sometimes, you just have to curse your height difference, even though it honestly looked so cute in pictures.

Pictures.

Those are another thing. You can’t post them. Not the selfies, not the cute candids, not a single one. And it hurts, the thought that you can’t show the world how much you love and appreciate your boyfriend.

But in all honesty, if you have to be open about it, Hoseok is your whole world. And you make a point to at least show him how much you love and appreciate him on a semi-regular basis.

“Go finish the concert. I’ll be right here, in the wings, waiting for you. And then when it’s over-“ you glance over to each side a couple times and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more, pulling him down to your level and catching him in a kiss, which is quickly reciprocated.

You decide that there’s still enough time left in the remaining solos to show him a little appreciation, so you run your tongue along his lower lip, hoping he’ll catch your drift. And catch it he does, parting his lips to grant you that access you want, allowing you to deepen the kiss.

You run one hand up into his hair and reach back with the other, feeling around for the speaker you two had almost crashed into. As soon as your fingertips made contact, you lean back, grasping at it, finding it just enough to move back towards it. It’s fairly big, tall enough for you to sit on and be able to kiss Hobi without having to pull him over so much. He takes the hint and puts his hands around your waist, lifting you up to sit upon it, never once breaking the kiss. You, in turn, lean into him, loving the feeling of his hands on your waist.

They don’t stay there for long though, you notice as they begin to trail upwards, underneath your hoodie, at an almost innocent pace, until they come to rest on your breasts. He gives them a light squeeze, grunting slightly in annoyance at the presence of your bra, and pushes himself between your legs, spreading your thighs apart where you’re seated, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your bare skin, against what isn’t covered by the tiny excuse for shorts you decided to wear today. He keeps his hands there and stops kissing you, pulling his head back slightly. Not too far, but just enough to look you in your eyes, which mirror his in an intense darkness of desire.

“Gongjunim-“ he mutters, retracting his hands from your hoodie, to rest them on your lower back, pulling you into a tight embrace. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the softness of your hoodie and inhaling the sweetness of your scent. “I don’t want to hide.”

You tilt your head, resting it against his, and smile softly, taking in a deep breath. “Me neither.”

The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, despite only being maybe a few minutes or so, existing within each other’s presence, no words exchanged as the two of you hold your embrace.

You don’t get to have tender moments with Hoseok like this in public very often, or ever really. And it feels so nice to just be held by him. Even when he starts moving his hands downwards to rest at the top of your ass as he places a series kisses against your neck where his head is nestled. You gasp lightly at the feeling of those kisses becoming more needy, lingering, becoming more intense. You can feel him suckling the side of your neck and you crane it further to the side, loving the sensation that is washing through your body.

A gasp escapes your lips when you feel his teeth sink down lightly into your soft skin, followed by the caress of his tongue and more sucking, this time harsher than before. You stifle a small moan at the graze of his teeth, feeling it shoot right through your core.

”Hobi- not now,” you whine quietly, knowing exactly what he is trying to do. His goal is to get you all hot and bothered, as if you aren’t already, and then when this was all over, back to the hotel for a little one-on-one appreciation. ‘If we even make it to the hotel.’

You squirm slightly, hearing the last few verses of Epiphany. ‘When did Jin start his solo?’ You know that he’ll be called back out onto stage quite soon, but he’s too distracted with decorating your neck with plumy-pink bruises, and while you love it, you don’t want to disrupt the flow of the concert. You feel like you already cause enough issues, you don’t want to mess up the performance either.

“Ho-Hoseok-“ you mewl as he places another mark on your skin, running your fingers through his hair. “Epiphany is- Epiphany is over,” you manage to croak out with a quiver. He knows your neck is one of your most sensitive areas and you know that he loves to mark you relentlessly, staking his claim over all parts of your body. You don’t mind in the slightest, in fact you welcome it. You love that feeling of belonging to him, of belonging in general.

“One more, gongjumin,” he mumbles into your neck before nipping lightly at your sensitive skin, drawing another gasp from you. In all honesty, he almost wants to say, ‘screw the show, I’m ready for this performance.’ But he refrains, knowing that you’ll be just as willing at the end of the show as you are right now and that once ‘The Truth Untold’ is over, they’d be getting to the encore soon enough.

You hum, accepting your fate as he attacks your now-tender neck once more with a loving kiss, Jung Hoseok-style. You smile to yourself, rubbing the back of his head with the pads of your fingers, relishing in the attention he’s giving you, via his mouth. You’re having the same thoughts as him and want to bail just as badly. The words hang on the tip of your tongue, but you’re quickly shaken out of your head at the sound of the stage manager calling out “J-Hope!” So with better practiced restraint than that of your boyfriend, you pull away.

“They called you, Hobi.”

He steps back and cocks an eyebrow, tonguing the side of his mouth as his gaze settles on the space between your thighs that he had just occupied. You stare down at his lips, focusing on where his tongue is prodding the edge of them and you huff softly, closing your legs quickly, realizing where his mind has wandered and where his focus is now aimed.

“Jung Hoseok! No! Not now,” you say almost too quickly, leaning forward to cover the tops of your thighs. You can feel that ever familiar warmth growing between them and you want nothing more than to have him right there, but-

“No?” he asks, raising his sightline to meet yours, an inquisitive look in his brown eyes.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. “Not yet,” you correct yourself, giving him a small smile before shooing him back to the stage. “Now go before you get me in trouble!”

Satisfied with your response, he nods and smiles back. He turns on his heel to walk back out but pauses, whipping around to give you a quick kiss and to mutter softly in your ear “do not touch yourself” before dashing out onto the dark stage, thunderous chants of ARMY welcoming him and the two other rappers back now that the vocal line was done and off stage.

You watch him as he retreats onto stage, trying to ignore the wetness that has now made its presence known in your shorts, the feeling of your panties sticking to your core, a direct outcome of his dominant tone. He may be all smiles and sunshine in public and with his brothers, but with you, with you he was a different breed altogether. Still sweet and caring but so in control and sure of himself, so sure of what you need and how to give. Just the thought of what he might do later has you wiggling in your seat. You glance down at where your thighs meet the speaker and purse your lips before looking up and around quickly. Maybe you can get away with a little much needed friction while Hoseok was out there, performing ‘Outro: Tear.’

So, with one more careful glance around and a declaration of a clear coast, you start to sneak your fingers between where the hem of the shorts and your thigh meet. You just barely make contact, feeling the slickness of your arousal with your fingertips, when you feel eyes on you. You shyly look up and meet the eyes of your boyfriend from where he’s stood on the stage, your eyes growing wide before a thought runs through your mind. He isn’t performing just yet, Namjoon still in his verse.

Smiling a coy smile, you trace the outline of your wet folds with two fingers, your breath hitching slightly at the feeling, before pulling them out. You maintain eye contact with your boyfriend as the music starts and bring your fingers up to your mouth, watching as he mouths out your name with a pained look on his face. You cock your head to the side with a bratty smirk and slowly take your own fingers in your mouth, sucking off the evidence of your arousal, all while your boyfriend watches from the stage until he’s forced to look away. You know you’re going to pay for that later but for now, you were content to watch him squirm.

With a laugh on your lips as you watched Hoseok start rapping once Namjoon had ended his verse, one thought playing repeatedly in your mind: ‘This is definitely not how I expected my summer to be at all.’

#j-hope #j hope #j hope x reader #hobi x reader #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #fluff #18+ themes #jung hoseok #j-hope x reader #jung hoseok x reader #i put off writing part 3 of bunny to write this lol #oops

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dayfoxx-fic · 6 years

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Ch. 17 - half in rage, half in love

Title: I’ll Unfold Before You Chapter: 17 Rating: M (for cursing, themes, etc) Summary: Misty comes to a strange, but compellingly, devastatingly realization. Cordelia tries to understand, but isn't quite there yet, Dark forces have been at work, and they have yet to finish watching their show. A/N: OMG guys, I am so sorry I haven't updated this in forever and a half. I've been incredibly busy finishing my graduate degree!, trying desperately to find a job, and generally letting animals take over my life. But Florence put me in a writing mood for the first time in ages. I really hope you like how this story concludes. It's not finished yet, though! Get your tushes ready, because this is gonna be a ride. Title is from Station Eleven. https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615310/chapters/37499330

The rain was spitting gently when Misty finally made it over. Her eyes quickly scanned the house, pinpointing dim candlelight illuminating Delia's bedroom. Of course, she knew the window to the other girl's room by heart. She'd spent enough time considering throwing pebbles up at the glass, carrying a jukebox over her shoulder. She shook her head of the thoughts. This was serious. Misty knew the other girl preferred to sleep in the pitch darkness. It gave Misty nightmares, except for the nights when she slept by Cordelia's side; it reminded her too much... she blinked slowly, swallowed back tears, and moved at a glacial pace to the front door. Cordelia had deposited a now damp sticky note with brief key locating instructions. She smiled to herself a bit, allowing the moment to be overly sentimental, the girl, the woman she knew was still there. Still had the same mannerisms. She was still the same.

Enough dilly-dallying. It was time to bear her truths. Misty didn't even know how to convey the words she'd been smothering down her own throat, going on for three long years, blinded by this horrible, fuck, curse? Spell_? __Enchantment? _Whatever had fucking been cast had cascaded her mind into a barely penetrable haze of existence without Her. She couldn't believe years had gone by, Hell, really it'd been more like seventeen years, where her mind had barely existed -- the ghost of memory that was Misty Day in the valiant throes of un-ending, agonizing Death and darkness. Endless anguish. Because she'd been forcibly abandoned. Her mighty power of resurgence only being capable of saving Cordelia's life, with a return to life that mean severing their connection, the ties that bound her to Misty, severed, for what had threatened to be forever.

Raindrops drizzled down Misty's face in rivulets, over the curves of her delicate cheeks and the sleek line of her jaw. She grimaced, she couldn't move herself, standing in the muddy front lawn of the only person who ever mattered to her. Somehow, as she had done as Supreme countless years ago, she saw through Misty's ethereal facade to see the person desperate to be saved from their own demons. Somehow, Delia knew her more intimately than she realized she knew herself.

Before she was distinctly aware of her own feet, she ended up standing, alert, outside Cordelia's bedroom. _They had shared a bed once, one that they could call their own, forever ago. The night before The Seven Wonders. _Misty ached. And several weeks ago. Now they had shared a bedroom countless times. Well, she counted, it was about half of the baby rearing project, the beautiful, magical beginning where anything seemed possible with this impossible girl. She'd stayed over every night, almost, thirteen days, over the course of two weeks. Oh, how quickly she had succumbed to the gentle, familiar, painfully familiar intimacy, unable to put the pieces together. And she had never ever... how had she not known? Immediately? The very power of the embodiment of inevitability and probability and magical energy repercussions resonated in her bones. Things had to be restored over time, or she would have been plunged into eternal despair. The thought of seeing the centuries pass alone, unable to remember the only love that had truly illuminated her life, was initially too much to bear. But then... Their instantaneous connection, after years of feeling strangely driven apart from the mysterious Cordelia Goode, was explosive. She hadn't been able to get enough of Cordelia's time. When she was working, or volunteering, doing her homework, studying for any test that Misty was not also taking, Misty just wanted to be there beside her, listening to her 8-track and dancing around to entertain the other blonde. What had taken her so long? It wasn't that she hadn't noticed Cordelia. How could anyone not notice the girl, she was the epitome of classy and transcendent beauty. No, she was something rarer than that, something only Stevie's music could describe. Ethereal. Everything. So, what had it been?

_When Misty had come to, naturally, she emerged from her beloved swamp. Covered in murky water and mud and gator dung, she breathed a sigh of a relief. Because she didn't realize anything was wrong. She stumbled about, barefoot along the river, in less than her tattered lace dress and her faded shawl from Stevie, when Mrs. Day (looking back now, it had all been a ploy, of course she would have Misty's name; she was meant to be a part of the simulated, yet not unreal, reality she had been thrust into) who was plucking river rocks from the water found her. "My God, you sweet Angel, let me get you out of here." Disoriented and in that deep haze, she figured the woman seemed like a safe bet. They shared the same name, after all. Although her predecessors who were Day's were less than pleasant people, she was glad to have replaced, or well, supplemented, the memory of them with new love from Penelope and Henry Day._

She had been afraid, intimidated by the pretty girl, but of what really, she couldn't say. But she just felt like if she ever let herself get close to Cordelia Goode, something bad was going to happen. And she didn't want anything bad to happen to Cordelia. Not ever.

But she cosmically could not not get close to Cordelia. Cordelia was her inevitability. Her singularity. And so that propelled her through the door, because she had been plunged into mentally clarifying the hard truth of her life:

"Cordelia, I know that this is gonna be a trip, but..." she stops, when she sees Nan. Her vision, which had warped slightly into rose-coloured glasses upon her realizations that she had found her long lost love vibrated with distortion around the small brunette girl.

"Hello, Misty. It's been way too long, and I apologize for that. Are you feeling ok?"

"I don't know how your damn name didn't click in my head. Did the Shadow Man protect you?"

"He's been protecting me for a long time, now, Misty. I hope you know that I have nothing to do with any of this, well, except for the excellent and positive parts of it. But, really, I gotta respect the boss. He's the only reason I'm even still..."

"Yeah. I guess me, too, in a way. If he hadn't given the Power to to us, I wouldn't be here."

"Neither would she." Nan looks pointedly at Cordelia. The darker blonde lifts an eyebrow, inquisitive, bewildered.

"Could either of you please explain what on Earth you are talking about?"

"It's your responsibility, Misty. You have to earn it. It doesn't matter who you are now, or how much you can feel your powers expanding like a supernova from your core. If you don't earn it, you don't get what you want. I'm sorry. Those are the rules."

"What? But... I already remember everything! How else can I earn it? I spent years, years alone in the swamp, listening to the radio about the hunters. How they wiped every last one of us out. What else am I supposed to do?"

"What do you think?" Nan smirked. Misty's brows furrowed so closely together, they almost formed a slender golden caterpillar.

"But even if I... if I say it, there's disbelief, incredulity. I've been without her for almost eighteen years. But I can't say it. I can't! Because what if it doesn't work? What if I don't get her back. What if he's just been toying with my mind for the last two decades and I've got nothing to show for it but the briefest hints of intimacy? I lost everything only to gain the falsity of everything. The ruler of nothing and no-one. No one left. Not even you, not really." Misty stared pointedly at the brunette. The smaller girl cannot do anything but shrug a shoulder in agreement. In her frantic panic of word jumble, Cordelia had made her way over to the now shaking woman with a thick, fluffy blanket in hand.

Instead of the words she was expecting, Misty simply received a coy, "You're going to have to take all of that off, you know. I have spare clothes for you in the closet. As you know." She gently pressed the chenille fabric into Misty's damp hands. The pale blonde stared slightly (obviously) in amazement at the woman in front of her. Always, with the composure. The sheer restraint. She knew the questions were dying at Cordelia's lips, but instead, the other girl had decided to flirt with her.

Misty was scared, still, so Misty was okay with that.

#cordelia goode #misty day #cordelia foxx #american horrors story #ahs #ahscoven #ahsfic #fanfic #foxxay fanfic #i'll unfold before you

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bangtan-only · 7 years

Text

BTS’ Love Yourself Poster Theories

Version 1 theory:

JK: “The day i want to go to that place, where my heart leads me to.”

Suga: “Don’t come closer, you will become unhappy”

Jimin: “I lied because i thought there was no way you would love someone like me.”

V: “Would you not have left me ? If i had made a different choice.”

Jin: “If i could turn back time, i want to be the best man in the world.”

RM: "It’s not the right time now, i am going to watch you only from behind.“

J-hope: “If you can shine. I am okay.”

If i made it into a short story:

That was the day i want to go to that place, where my heart leads me to. Yet, i hope you don’t come closer, don’t come with me because you will be unhappy. So, I lied to you to keep you away, because i thought there was no way you would love someone like me. I was glad you stayed away but I sometimes wonder, would you not have left me ? If i had made a different choice. If i could turn back time, i want to be the best man in the world for you. However, it is too late, is not the right time now, so i am just going to watch you only from behind. As long as you can shine, i will be okay.

Moral of the story:

BTS were torn between their choices.

If i relate it back to BST MV (Final Jin Scene)

“Man muss noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können” :You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.

The chaos is the inability to make a choice/decision. (Read my BST theory)

Version 2 theory

Love yourself is the continuation of BTS I Need you & Run era! (My fav eras!)

I need you & run & spring day MV + lyrics + analysis

“Why do i fall in love and say goodbye alone? Why do I need you again although I know that i am gonna be hurt?” (I need you lyrics are BOLD)

“ Curse me, this foolish destiny! You make me cry cry, Love is a lie lie, Don’t tell me bye bye” (Run lyrics are italicized)

“I Miss you.” (Spring day lyrics have normal font)

Suga: “Don’t come closer, you will become unhappy”

I will stop, I don’t want you anymore

Please get out of here.

Just burn me out, yes.

Keep pushing me away.

Yes, i hate you. You who left me.

I will erase you because it hurt less then resenting you.

Suga is sitting in a tunnel and with dressing very similar with i need you era. This emphasises on the fact tha it is really a continuation of I need you! So remember this quote: “ There’s light at the end of every tunnel” which matched BTS theme of “Love youself”. Suga is still stuck in his past and unable to move on, if he finally gets himself up, he would be able to love himself.

Question is: Would he be able to do it?

I am waiting for the MV

V: “Would you not have left me ? If i had made a different choice.” I’m sorry (I hate u) I love you (I hate u) Forgive me

Memories are crumbling like dried flower leaves

How much more do I have to wait? How many more nights do I have to stay up? Until I can see you? Until I can meet you?

You know it all, you are my best friend

V is definitely related to the run era because look at the puddles around him and river behind him. Remember his drowning scene in Run and prologue?

His reflection is seen in the water and his buddy all along was namjoon and namjoon solo song was titled “reflection” coincidence? i think not.

RM: "It’s not the right time now, i am going to watch you only from behind.“

It goes round & round, why do I keep coming back Whatever I do, I can’t help it It’s definitely my heart, my feelings but why don’t they listen to me please, I’ll treat you well

It’s too late, too late, I can’t live without you

Seeing each other for once is now so hard between us.

Namjoon is definitely related to spring day. (Spring day train scene)

Remember V’s starting scene is spring day?

The train that namjoon was on left (RM poster) and V took in the last memories of him by leaning against the railway. If V had made a different choice, would namjoon have stayed?

Namjoon had to go, so he promised he would watch V only from behind.

Jin: “If i could turn back time, i want to be the best man in the world.” Girl please rather say me goodbye

I don’t have the courage

Let me not go back ever

Please stay there a little longer

Jin is alone like usual, his background is a garden. Remember in run era he was the only one wearing shoes in the grass and in wings era he was the only one not wearing shoes. He is dead, and if he could turn back time he would be the best man in the world for his friends (He was the cause of the separation of BTS members) > Read my theory on Spring Day.

Usually, their concept photos would be at the same area but for love yourself, they were all separated. > Read my theory on Spring day concept photos.

Jimin: “I lied because i thought there was no way you would love someone like me.”

I can’t help it.

This is all i can do anyway

All i know is how to love you

But i can’t really let you go yet.

Jimin is related to his short flim : lies > Read my theory so i don’t have to explain again.

He was associated with rain, water throughout the eras. He now have an umbrella to block these away suggesting that he is finally able to love himself? No longer trapped in the expectations of others > (Read my theory on lies to understand)

“There’s a rainbow after every storm.”

JK: “The day i want to go to that place, where my heart leads me to.”

Let’s run run run again! It’s okay to fall Let’s run run run again! It’s okay to get hurt

I am chasing butterflies, so lost in dreams

Show me the way, please stop me.

I’ll be there to see you

I’ll come for you

Jungkook is obviously in i need you era, i am guessing you all know about his accident scene so i won’t explain it.

J-hope: “If you can shine. I am okay.”

It’s alright even if i can’t have you (J-hope didn’t sing this part but this lyrics was shown on his scene.)

J-hope is related to young forever, with the plane and fence.

I am guessing J-hope is able to love himself after trying to protect the members thus, his carefree self.

Extra:

“I’ll see you.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone”

Somebody coined this from the poster so my interpretation is that the boys are gonna be reunited after separating.

Summary

The boys are trying to love themselves, some have done so, yet some are still trying. J-hope, Jimin and Jungkook look up because they have found a reason to do so, found a reason to love themselves after all the ordeals they faces in the previous era. Taehyung, Suga, Jin look down because they are still trying to find a reason to love themselves.

Namjoon on the other hand, looks just right in front of him, neither up or down.This is because he knew what loving himself meant, but he also know that just loving yourself is not enough, there will be times we would hate ourselves and there are people who hate us: “I wish i could love myself.”

He knew he can love himself, but what happens after that?

The bliss of loving oneself is merely temporary.

*To really understand my theories, please read my previous theories or you might not get it!

A/n: This is purely based on my own opinion so do not bash me about it.

Feel free to share your ideas and thoughts with me! Or ask me questions about my theories!

Lastly, take out with full credits.

-J.L

#bts #bangtan #bts theory #bangtan theory #bts theories #bangtan theories #love yourself #love yourself theory #love yourself theories #bts senarios #bts updates #bts posters

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illumynare · 7 years

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Red vs Blue Fic: Lavernius Tucker and the Tattoo Conspiracy

Summary: The first rule of Blue Team is Be Cool and nobody is letting him be cool.

(Or: the AU where everyone except Tucker has glowing tattoos.)

Parings: None.

Warnings: Lots of swearing, mentions of torture, everyone gets naked except Tucker. (It’s surprisingly un-sexy.)

Notes: Also available on AO3!

RIP my dignity. We had a good run.

Huge, huge thanks to @a-taller-tale, best of wives and best of women beta readers. She really went above and beyond for this one.

Caboose starts it, or anyway, he's the first one Tucker finds out about. One day he gets peanut butter all over the inside of his armor, and Tucker doesn't call "not it" fast enough, so he has to hose him down. First Caboose throws a temper tantrum and doesn't want to take his armor off at all, and then he strips stark-ass naked—which is actually a good thing, considering how far the peanut butter had gotten.

And that's how Tucker sees the tattoo.

It's huge, covering the whole of Caboose's back, geometric designs interlocked with lines of a weird script that Tucker recognizes, after a moment, as Sangheili. The lines are a deep, cobalt blue with an opalescent sheen—crisper and more vivid than any tattoo Tucker's ever seen—and then Caboose shifts a little, turning his back out of the sunlight, and Tucker realizes the tattoo is actually glowing.

"Whoa, dude, what's that?"

"Oh, that is from my best friend," says Caboose.

"Church gave you a glowing tattoo written in Sangheili?" Tucker says. "Dude, I do not believe that. Also, if you call him your best friend again, I think he's gonna shoot you."

"No," says Caboose, "that is from my old best friend. When I was on a team that fought the aliens."

"Wait, you actually fought in the war?" asks Tucker, slightly envious. It's not like he wanted his head shot off by Covenant forces, but he'd thought that being in a few battles and getting some cool scars would help him pick up chicks. Instead he got pulled straight out of Basic and sent to the ass-end of nowhere without a single woman in sight.

"Yeah, we went to a planet that had some stuff, and we were supposed to do things with it, but then the ship crashed, which was definitely not my fault because I did not touch ANY of the buttons, and everybody died in the explosions."

"Wait," says Tucker, "then how—"

"Or they died in the lava. Or the quicksand. Or the psychokinetic carnivorous plants. Or the shooting from the aliens, who were also dying. Yeah, everyone was dead after that. But there was one alien left and we built a house together and went fishing and became best friends forever! So he gave me a tattoo instead of a bracelet. And then I went home."

Okay, clearly that story is 90% bullshit, but Tucker doesn't want to spend the next three hours asking Caboose increasingly simple questions to sort out what really happened.

'Whatever," he sighs, and hits Caboose with another shower from the hose. Caboose twists his head, happily trying to drink the water out of the air.

Tucker does tell Church about it later. Church is not interested.

"Oh my God, Tucker, I do not fucking care how Caboose got a dumbass tattoo on his back."

"I'm just saying, it's kind of—"

"Seriously, why do you care what Caboose has on his naked body?"

"Okay, don't make it weird."

(Much later, when Church is still an asshole but also Epsilon and made out of numbers, he’ll tell Tucker about hacking the extremely classified file that is Private Michael J. Caboose’s one and only real combat mission before getting shunted into the Simulation Trooper program, and Tucker will think, Well, damn.)

Everybody on Blue Team has a role: Caboose is the idiot. Church is the asshole. Tucker is the cool, good-looking one.

Which is why it's so unfair that Caboose gets the alien tattoo that glows in the dark and looks completely sick. Tucker's the one who could actually work it around the ladies . . . if there were any ladies in Blood Gulch besides Tex, who isn't a lady so much as a female velociraptor, and that's on one of her good days.

The point is, Tucker wants in on this game. When he agrees to go with Crunchbite on his stupid quest, half the reason is that he's hoping he'll get a glowing tattoo out of it.

Instead he gets knocked up, and that's—well, Doc does remember to give him anesthetic before starting the C-section, but there's no curtain or anything, and sometimes Tucker really wishes he could forget what it looked like.

Junior, though. He's weird and he smells, but the first time he leans against Tucker and lets out a quiet blargh, all Tucker can think is, My kid. Fucking worth it.

But he still doesn't have a badass glowing tattoo.

And then it turns out that everyone else in this fucking canyon does.

Okay, so Church never had any glowing tattoos on his actual body back when he was alive, which Tucker knows because he asked.

"I'm Jewish, you dumbass."

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh my God, you don't know anything, do you?"

"Hey, you didn't know I was black."

But now he’s a ghost and he can glow in the dark so it’s pretty much the same thing.

Then there's the time that the Reds attack, and when Church starts cursing because he still can't aim with the sniper rifle, Caboose shouts, "I can help you, Church!" and runs up onto the roof with a fucking grenade launcher.

That's loaded with paintballs, because of course it is.

"We are so screwed," Tucker sighs, gripping his rifle. He's the only member of Blue Team who's currently able to (a) hit anything (b) with actual ammo, and that means they're not 4v3, they're 4v1, and Tucker is still too pretty to die like this and disappoint all the ladies.

Except Caboose hits Simmons with a paintball.

And it's blue paint.

"Son of a Manchurian Candidate!" Sarge yells. "Those dirty Blues are trying to brainwash Simmons. The only way to save him is immediate amputation."

"WHAT? But I feel fine! Suck it, Blues! See?"

"The paint is on his torso," says Grif. "I don't think he can survive without his lungs. Wait, does he even have those anymore?"

"As much as I hate to admit that this moron has any reasonable point, it's clear that there's only one solution. We have to field-strip Simmons."

"But Sarge—" Simmons's voice is cut off as Sarge tackles him.

"Oh, boy," says Donut. "I have got the best theme song for this."

As Sarge rips off Simmons's armor, Donut starts singing "Take it Off" while performing a dance routine with a lot of hip-thrusts.

"Wait," says Church. "Did Caboose just . . . save our asses?"

"Shit, don't tell him that," Tucker mutters.

"Yes, well, I didn't want to mention it, but since you insist, I did save us all. Stupid Tucker."

"Heheh, yeah, Caboose is more useful than you today, Tucker."

"Seriously?" says Tucker. "I'm the fucking chosen one, dude. Caboose is just an idiot with blue paint."

"And the blue paint just saved our asses."

"He said it."

Below, Sarge has already gotten Simmons completely naked. It's the first time Tucker's even seen his face. He's a scrawny, ethnically ambiguous string bean with olive skin, black hair, and a lot of chrome.

And a tattoo.

A fucking bright red, glowing tattoo in the pattern of a circuitboard all over his back.

What the fuck.

Like, obviously the tattoo is part of whatever turned Simmons into a cyborg, and Tucker's never wanted to get any of his limbs or internal organs replaced, but it looks . . . cool, okay, it is fucking cool, and the Red Team nerd should not be allowed to look cooler than Tucker does. At all. In any way.

Shit, the tattoo's even pulsating, little glowing specks running down the lines of the circuit, and it's just. Not fucking fair.

"Saaaarge!" Simmons wails, hunching in on himself. "You know I'm shy!"

"Sorry, Simmons, but operational security comes first. Can't allow anyone to be compromised by the Blues."

Simmons responds with a wordless moan.

"I mean, I know it's weird to keep watching," says Church, "but he's suffering so much I can't look away."

Down below, Grif says, "Gosh, Sarge, I think I saw a little bit of paint on you too. Right . . . there." He points at a spot on Sarge's back, where Tucker can see there is definitely not a single drop of paint.

"Horseshoes and hand grenades! So that's their villainous plan!"

Even Tucker has never managed to get naked that fast. He'd be impressed, except he's too busy staring at the giant glowing Red Team snake tattooed on Sarge's back. How did the old fucker even get that tattoo? He probably did it himself with experimental ink that’s radioactive and making him impotent, but Tucker is still a bit jealous.

"Hey, Reds," Church yells. "Looks like half your team is naked!"

“Hah!” Sarge bellows. “And so your plot is foiled again, scumbags!"

Church hefts the sniper rifle, and the Reds retreat while Tucker contemplates how it is fucking bullshit that Sarge and Simmons have glowing tattoos while he doesn't.

Tucker finds out about Donut's tattoo when the Reds mount Operation Weaponized Birthday Cake, and just. The less said about that, the better.

(But sometimes Tucker wakes up in the middle of the night and wonders. You’d need some kind of mad science or alien technology just to make a glowing tattoo. How the hell do you make a tattoo that glows and throws out sparkles?)

Grif's tattoo is different.

Tucker still feels guilty, when he remembers seeing it.

What happens is this: Tucker finally has some free time, and sometimes, when a man has free time, he just really wants a chance to enjoy some nude sunbathing. Without his asshole CO screeching at him or his idiot teammate wanting to join in.

There's this one little nook of the canyon that Church and Caboose don't seem to know about. Sarge and Simmons don't seem to know about it either, because Tucker knows that Grif goes there sometimes too. There have even been a few times they even hung out together—not naked, okay, that would be weird—but sometimes, a man wants to spend time around an asshole who isn't one of the assholes he has to live with every day. And who thinks this war is about as much bullshit as he does.

So one day, Tucker goes to the spot. Caboose tried to cook at 2 AM the night before, which meant the base caught on fire, which meant no one got any sleep, which meant Tucker just really wants to stretch out in the sun and not think about anything for an hour.

Except apparently, Grif had exactly the same idea. He's flat on his stomach, face down, snoring loudly. And stark-ass naked.

What Tucker's staring at isn't Grif's ass, though, it's his back.

It's a work of art.

And it's a war zone.

Because Grif is tattooed the same way Caboose is—different symbols, but the same glowing blue lines, obviously Sangheili—but the skin around the tattoos is ridged and puckered with scars. Somebody ripped Grif's back apart before decorating it, and shit shit shit, Tucker’s suddenly remembering that Grif fought against the aliens before Blood Gulch—something about colony destroyed and only survivor—and he doesn’t know exactly how that left Grif's back scarred around glowing Sangheili symbols, but he does not want to ask.

He backs away silently, and never, ever tells Grif what he saw.

Nothing will ever make Tucker admit it, but he never actually gets lucky with Kai, and the whole reason is the fit he pitches when he sees that glowing golden tramp stamp.

(It’s not fragile masculinity, it’s this fucking CONSPIRACY of tattoos around him. The first rule of Blue Team is Be Cool and nobody is letting him be cool.)

There's one thing that Tucker likes about Wash right from the start:

He doesn't have any tattoos.

Okay, fine, Tucker's never checked. But even if Project Freelancer was dumb enough to let its super-secret operatives have glowing tattoos, there is absolutely no way that Agent "I love drills and protocol" Washington would have gotten one.

The loser probably doesn't even have any piercings.

Maybe that's why Tucker actually feels like he can complain to him, one evening at the crash site, after he's done ten fucking million squats and hates everything.

"Seriously. Literally everyone has a glowing tattoo except for me. It's not fair."

For once, Wash has not only his helmet but the entire top half of his armor off. Does that mean he's decided to relax and be less of an asshole? No, it just means he can pinch the bridge of his nose at Tucker.

"I don't think that's very important, Private Tucker."

"Fuck yeah it's important! Tattoos are cool, and the first rule of Blue Team is be cool."

"Well," says Wash, desert-dryly, "I'm Blue Team leader, and I say you can be on Blue Team even if you're not cool."

"Ugh, like I care what you think." Tucker slouches back in his chair, wishing for the hundredth time that Church was here. Even though Church would probably just say, Shut up, Tucker.

"You know," says Wash, "if you actually tried at all, you'd be a pretty cool soldier."

"Shut up, asshole," Tucker groans, but he can't help smiling a little because, y'know. Wash may be a complete loser but he's also a Freelancer. Who thinks that Tucker could be cool.

It's not a tattoo, but it's kind of nice.

Then there's Felix and then there's Locus, and then Wash calls, Freckles, shake.

In the days and weeks after, the New Republic soldiers stare at Tucker like he's some sort of badass rock star god, and all Tucker can think is that he never wanted to be this cool, not like this.

Not at this price.

When Tucker wakes up in the hospital after fighting Felix at the radio tower—well, the first thing he thinks is my feet are shiny, because holy fuck, Grey has him on a lot of drugs.

But once he stops having conversations with his IV, and once the good news sinks in—that they won, that his friends are all alive, that the Feds and the New Republic have an alliance—

One of the first things that Tucker thinks is, Well, I guess it's back to being Private Tucker.

Except. Wash calls him "Captain," and doesn't order him to run laps when they disagree. He doesn't boss Tucker's squad around, unless they've been sent to him for training.

Slowly, Tucker starts to realize that Wash believes in his rank, is trying to support him, and it's just. He has to go sit next to Grif and wordlessly drink a few beers, that's what it means to him.

He swears to himself that he's going to live up to this.

Tucker's going to die soon.

If he's lucky.

Because Felix grabbed him . . . Tucker isn't sure how long ago, but it's been far too long and now he hurts more than he ever thought possible. And he tried not to scream, he tried to be brave, he really fucking tried—

But.

Well.

In the end, when Felix stuck the camera in his face and said, Ask them to come for you, Tucker choked on a sob and said, Wash, please.

He's been alone since that, lying in his own blood on the floor of this cell. Felix didn't bother restraining him again, because he knows that Tucker's too broken to fight anymore. He can't even bring himself to sit up; all he can do is lie here and think miserably of how fucking disappointed Wash is going to be in him.

Everyone will be disappointed—Carolina and Kimball and stupid Palomo—but Wash is the first one who believed in him, who said, You just need to try, and Tucker tried and tried and now here he is, broken and begging on command so Felix can use him as bait.

At least he knows that Wash will stop Caboose from watching the message. That's something.

There's also this: Wash is going to kill Felix. Tucker knows that, and even if he isn't going to be around to see it, he finds it pretty comforting. Wash is going to make Felix regret that he ever leaned close and said, Y'know, this is basic RTI training for a Freelancer. But I guess even that's too much for you.

Tucker remembers what happened right after Felix said that, and he shudders and wheezes and fuck, everything hurts.

He doesn't want to die, but he really, really wants this to stop.

The door of his cell opens.

"Oh, hey there, Tucker. Ready for some more fun?"

Just the sound of Felix's voice makes him start shaking now. It's Pavlovian and it's fucked and Tucker hates it.

He wonders if he could manage to barf on Felix's boots in revenge.

"Yeah, I've gotten pretty bored with our little chats too." Felix hauls him up—Tucker bites back a whimper—and drags him out the door. "But you see, somebody's melodramatic Freelancer boyfriend decided to turn up with a bomb and a deadman switch, so it's time for you to be useful."

"He's not my boyfriend," Tucker mutters. He can barely keep his feet under him; he’s pretty sure that if Felix wasn’t dragging him along the hallway, he’d fall over. Felix is a fucking artist with his knife, but Tucker’s still lost a lot of blood by now, and he hasn’t eaten or slept since they grabbed him.

Then Tucker’s brain catches up, and his spine turns to ice as he really understands what Felix said, and all he can think is Oh shit oh shit he actually came.

Wash wasn't supposed to come for him. Tucker had been so sure that he wouldn't obey Felix's "come alone and unarmed" message.

That's the only—well, Tucker would like to think that's the only reason he broke. Because Wash has lectured him about negotiations with hostages and terrorists, Tucker knows what the protocol is, why the fuck does this have to be the one time that Agent Washington doesn't want to follow protocol?

Felix drags him through the base—there are mercs everywhere, Wash is never getting out of this alive, and Tucker wonders dizzily if he can get Felix to shoot him somehow, but then Felix drags him into a room and there's—

Wash.

Helmet off, no gun, holding a crooked bundle of wires and flashing lights that has to be the bomb.

He looks like shit, the circles under his eyes worse than ever, stubble on his chin and his mouth set in that line of "I've just woken up from a nightmare about my whole team dying and I'm sure it will come true."

That expression used to mean that Tucker was going to do worse drills than usual, and now it means that Tucker is going to watch his best friend die.

And it will be all his fault.

Fuck.

"Don't—" he manages to rasp out, and then Felix has him forced to his knees, one hand gripping Tucker’s dreads, the other pressing a pistol to the base of his skull.

"Okay, Agent Washington, here's your little friend. He's alive and he's even going to stay that way, if you do what I tell you."

There's a glorious moment where Tucker imagines Wash saying, Fuck no, and backflipping across the room while he pulls out two rifles and then dual-wields his way through a slow-mo, totally awesome battle that ends with Felix and Locus both dead.

But Wash just says, "Okay," and he drops the bomb.

"Well, that's a good first step," says Felix. "Now take off that armor."

And Wash does. He pulls it off piece by piece—Tucker can count on one hand the number of times he's seen Wash totally unarmored, and now Felix is making it happen and it's like. The worst and most depressing stripper show ever.

If Tucker somehow survives this, he will never forgive himself.

When Wash is stripped down to his kevlar undersuit, Felix laughs and says, "Really? It’s that easy to make you give up? Locus is going to be disappointed, I gotta tell you."

"Let him go," says Wash, staring at Felix with the same unsettlingly direct stare as when he told Tucker, You just have to stick with what you think is best. "I did what you wanted."

But Felix laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—see, I read your psych profile. I know you have far too much tragic backstory to bring a secret AI like Tucker did. So you’ve obviously got some other surprise hidden on you. You want me to believe you’ve surrendered? You’ll have to get naked."

Shit, he’s probably right. The plan’s gone wrong, and Wash needs to get out while there’s still time. Tucker finds his voice and says, "Wash—stop—"

But Wash is already peeling off his undersuit.

And Tucker sees Wash's skin. His shoulders and his arms and his chest.

There are glowing blue lines everywhere.

"What the fuck?" says Felix, and it takes Tucker a moment to realize it wasn't just him thinking it, because what the fuck.

Wash is covered in glowing blue tattoos, from wrist to throat to navel. They're not Sangheili symbols like Grif and Caboose, and they're not a circuitboard like Simmons, and they're not Blood Gulch symbols like Sarge. They're Greek letters and swirls and lines, and they say Epsilon and they say more, Alpha-Beta-Delta-Sigma-Omega-Gamma-Theta-Eta-Iota, and Tucker's regretting every time he made a crack about Wash staying in his armor. Because the whole painful history of the Freelancer AIs is written on Wash's skin and Tucker has no right to see this, he doesn't want to see this, but he's looking at it just the same.

And then Tucker realizes what that means: Wash had those tattoos all along.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" he howls.

He knows he's having hysterics. But this is it. This is how he dies. Not from Felix's torture, not from a bullet to the brain, but from Agent fucking Washington and his fucking glowing tattoos what the fuck.

"Wow, Tucker," says Church, appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you were so insecure." Then he flickers up into Felix's face. "Oh, yeah. I've been hacking your base. No biggie. Seriously, you didn't think I could be in Wash's armor instead of his implants?"

There's an explosion from outside, and the next moment, Wash is right there, kicking gun out of Felix’s hand, then dodging back when Felix lunges for him.

"And it wasn't a bomb," Wash calls out smugly, bouncing on his toes. "It was a homing device.”

“For the reinforcements,” Church adds. “Bitch.”

Felix lets out a scream of rage and charges Wash. Who is, wow, actually really good at fighting naked. Tucker wonders dizzily if that’s a thing they trained at in Project Freelancer, and if he can get Carolina to give him lessons, and then suddenly he just doesn’t have any strength left and he falls over. Everything is a blur of pain and what the fuck, and Tucker hears Church say, "Okay, seriously Tucker, this isn't funny," but he's lost the ability to speak.

Gradually, things stop hurting. There's this wonderful cool, floaty feeling. Tucker realizes it's the healing unit. He's lying on his back, the healing unit is running, he's not dead and therefore Wash kicked Felix's ass.

Sweet.

He opens his eyes. Wash is leaning over him.

"You fuck," says Tucker. "You have a tattoo."

Wash makes this weird noise that's almost like a laugh. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Dude. Not fair."

Wash is back in his undersuit, because nothing will make him less of a prude, and Tucker is—

—Tucker is alive, he can't believe it, he's alive and he's safe and Felix isn't there to smile and say, Well, actually, as he slides the knife in and.

And then Tucker remembers that if Wash is here, then he watched the message. He knows how weak Tucker is.

"Sorry," he mutters. “Guess I really fucked up.”

He has a feeling he's going to be saying that a lot, when he gets back.

"It's fine," Wash says soothingly. "Everything's okay."

And that hurts, somehow, more than any stern reprimands to Private Tucker possibly could.

"It's not," says Tucker. "I—I broke, okay, I begged when he told me too, and—and—"

"Tucker," says Wash, and it's that voice, the extra-calm Freelancer voice, the one that Tucker can believe even when he's totally panicking, that he could follow into any sort of danger. "You survived. That's okay. That's, uh. Pretty cool."

"Yeah, it's more than most of the Freelancers managed," Church adds, appearing by Wash's shoulder.

"Epsilon," Wash growls.

"What? Comms are down, so is security, Carolina already took out Locus and Felix McFuckface here is not going to wake up for a while. Relax."

". . . I can't believe you have a tattoo," Tucker mumbles.

"Yeah, it's, uh." Wash stops.

"Wow, I just realized I should be literally anywhere else," says Church, and disappears.

“Side-effect of the implantation," Wash finishes with a sigh.

"So Carolina also has one?"

Wash cracks a grin. "Nope. She has two."

"Ugh. That's so unfair." Tucker tries to sit up, and the world swims around him. Wash sets a steadying hand on his back.

Tucker can hear crashes and screams and explosions in the distance—the cavalry, obviously. Lots of them. Shit, did everyone come on this mission?

"Tell you what," says Wash, his voice only a little bit condescending. "When you get out of the hospital, I'll help you get a cool tattoo.”

Tucker hurts everywhere. He's not okay. He doesn’t want to think about how long he’ll be in the hospital, or how many of his friends heard him beg in that recording, or how soon he’ll start dreaming about Felix.

But Wash's hand is warm and comforting against his spine. Tucker’s alive, and everyone came to save him, and Wash isn’t ashamed of him. And he thinks . . . maybe he’s going to be okay, eventually.

“Oh, like you know anything about what's cool," he says, and Wash laughs.

#lavernius tucker #rvb fic #rvb #red vs blue #agent washington #fanfic #my fic

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