#i'll have to give it back tomorrow - tragedy‚ really.

[crescentmp3]

LOOK!! ^^

[ image desc: a taken picture of a physical copy of the book Herkes İçin Yapısal Yolla İtalyanca (Structured Italian for Everyone) by Asım Tanış. // end id ]

[birdiesaves]

THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !

mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. 

i’m pretty much fucked. 

they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.

i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.

what do you know? i’m in command.

it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do. 

in your position i would have done the same thing. 

it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.

everyone thinks i’m dead. 

ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.

i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.

fear my botany powers!

but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.

i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.

i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________

bleh. i’m going to bed

my life depends on you

i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.

i have an idiotically dangerous plan 

i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.

the answer is: i don’t know.

all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me

also, i have duct tape. 

after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.

that was sarcasm, by the way.

this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.

do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?

how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals! 

i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!

now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.

i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?

the whole world’s been rooting for you. 

really looking forward to not dying. 

please watch your language.

sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.

you're sort of a smart-ass.

your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.

no. you’ll fuck it up and die.

i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.

i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.

the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws. 

named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.

i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.

your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.

why are you such a nerd?

you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.

you started my training by buying me a beer.

so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....

frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.

just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?

no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...

for now i just want to go home.

there's always hope

are we just watching a tragedy play out?

you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will. 

i've defiled enough historical sites for now.

tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!

tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!

be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.

i remember when you were shy

the attitude comes with the job

and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”

there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.

what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?

how do you come up with this shit?

i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.

i need you to come back in and make a bomb.

i knew that guy was a mad scientist!

i think we should just go with my iron man idea.

well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander. 

give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.

i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.

i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries. 

they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.

yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do. 

[aenhanse]

something i find interesting, having watched atsv and read dark tomorrow pretty much back to back, is how the two stories approach the concept of a miguel that is past a certain breaking point.

in dark tomorrow he basically gets his spider-man no more moment after losing his brother and fiancee. the events leave him resenting the superhero side of his life, questioning if it was ever worth it if it cost him the people he loves and throwing that side away completely for years. though he can't really help wanting to help others once he started doing so as s-man so instead he loses himself in trying to get alchemax to become a force for good, a way to help everyone in need. and it's all just miguel trying to ignore the guilt and trauma that festered for like five years as he continues to just exist as a shell of a spider-man he was

and then atsv has kinda an opposite of this in a way that after losing his 'daughter' he throws away the miguel side of himself spending every hour of every day as a shell of the spider-man he shouldn't be. we obviously don't have details of his backstory in the movie so i'm just reaching here to comics for help, but if its anything like what happens in the 1992 run, and i'd love nothing more for it to be so, i find it fascinating how he shifts into a version of himself that resembles what he fought against way more than what he's learned and was pushed to become the more time he was spider-man. it's almost like he reverted in a way and was pushed just enough to the side to become that ever watching presence that enforces its rules over what it deems an anomaly. he tries to convince himself it's for the greater good, refuses the thought that he might be in the wrong, because at his core miguel still wants to help people but i don't think he realizes yet just how much he's lost himself there.

both stories have him lose his way but in a completely different matter while still making sense for him to end up either way. and it's what i love seeing when writers push characters over that ledge, a familiarity with just enough there to let you know there's something off, something that tells you they wouldn't act that way in other circumstances but because they were put there it becomes a believable exploration of a character reaching their breaking point (asm back in black my most beloved example of this done well). and then there is a question of how to bring them back from that brink

both versions of miguel still have lyla, a semblance of that life before everything went to shit persisting. but she's not enough and what is needed there is a fresh perspective and the mig from the book gets that in form of anya, reminding him what being a hero means and giving him that little bit of hope that there is something more than even more tragedy waiting around the corner. and i can only guess that atsv miguel might get that harsh reminder from miles, then i'll have two nickels

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟷 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

there's us and the dead.

this is what takes us down.

the tragedy of their loss cannot be overstated.

i'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again

you should've seen the look on his face when i punched out his front teeth.

you're still a dumbass.

nice moves there, clint eastwood.

i think tomorrow i'm gonna blow my brains out.

y'all be more polite to a man with a gun!

zero tolerance for walkers.

that's the biggest lie there is.

we're safe here.

it's not a toy.

i know how the safety works.

keep drinking, little man.

do not enter the city.

bright side, it'll be the fall that kills us.

you may think you do but you don't.

living underground doesn't help; not knowing if it's day or night.

wish i could have done it a month ago.

friend, you need glasses.

there's good news?

it was worth every minute of it just to see that prick spit his teeth out on the ground.

i finally got the scrubbers in the east sector shut down to save power.

there were dozens of 'em.

eww. that's nasty.

maybe we got a second chance.

help me now, show me the way.

i didn't behave, i know.

screw you, man.

sometimes they fall short.

you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond."

you the new sheriff come riding in to clean up the town?

cozy in there?

the only reason i got away was 'cause the dead were too busy eating my family.

i don't even know why i'm talking to you.

that's my boy.

this is our extinction event.

how far do you think i can chuck this, huh?

things are different now.

if you see anything, holler. i'll come running.

go on, tell me what to do.

hey kid, what'd you do before all this?

what are the odds, huh?

i know what i want to say.

i see a chance to make a new start.

i remember my dream now.

i ain't begged you before, i ain't gonna start begging now.

i know i'm being punished.

it wasn't my intention.

i can't let a man die of thirst.

i wanna see how red your face can get.

the world ended, didn't you get the memo?

we survive this by pulling together, not apart.

anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose.

it scares the fish.

thought i'd get to drive at least for a few more days.

i'll give you a moment to think about that.

i'm sorry this happened to you.

i'm old enough.

it belongs to the dead now.

maybe we'll get to steal another one someday.

nobody is gonna hurt you, okay?

they came out of nowhere.

saves me the embarrassment.

that's the bad news.

can i learn to shoot?

you pull the trigger, you have to mean it.

not many people get that.

bites kill you.

just...feeling very...off.

words can be meager things.

what he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me.

what do you say to that?

guess the world changed.

the fever burns you out, but then after a while... you come back.

hell yes you're gonna learn.

you heard me, bitch.

the weak get taken.

there's no clinical progress to report.

still not sleeping well, can't seem to keep regular hours.

we gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon.

we are surviving here.

too bad i never studied engineering.

yeah, whatever, yee haw.

they might not seem like much one at a time, but in a group all riled up and hungry, man you watch your ass.

one thing i do know, don't you get bit.

we don't kill the living.

no crying in the boat.

i bet there isn't a single son of a bitch still listening out there, is there?

that's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.

you don't know what it's like out there.

you're surrounded by walkers.

we don't have to be afraid anymore.

who voted you king boss?

we left him like an animal caught in a trap.

the line is pretty clear.

admit it, you only came back to atlanta for the hat.

i can see you make a habit of missing the point.

it's only a matter of time.

is this real?

there's us and the dead.

you got a problem?

there's too many of those things.

i never told them what i really thought.

i ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard.

i'm a glass half full kinda guy.

it's the same as it ever was.

who the hell are you, man?!

[willow-tree-writes]

✾Inside Job✾

Steve Harrington x Russian!Reader

Summary: You were sent to American with a mission - get close to a dangerous group of teenagers and get rid of them from the inside.

Request: @everose05 "I was wondering if you could do another Steve Harrington x Russian Reader. But where the reader is a russian assasin, and only starts dating Steve to get close to the party and take them down. Since the russians know they will try and stop them. I've never seen it be written before, and i think it could be really cool."

Author’s Note: I have been away for a while... wow... I'm glad I got this request or I wouldn't have written at all! I've been so busy with college and struggling with low motivation, so I don't know how consistent I'll be. Also, sorry for how short this is, I kind of rushed myself to get this out for you guys.

Word Count: 970

Warnings: Cursing, Faking Feelings

!I don’t own this gif!

When you were first told you’d be sent to America in order to breach a group of children who were trying to get rid of the Russians, you thought your father was insane. Сумасшедший.

But here you were. In some cul-de-sac, standing outside a suburban-style rancher.

“просто замечательно…” You mumbled to yourself. ‘Just great…’ You were going to have to stay here for god knows how long and pretend to care for people that are already dead to you.

Now all you had to do was unpack your shit and survey outside some high school for your targets.

----

This little hellhole didn’t seem like anything special. It was a small town where a bunch of tragedies happened, causing everyone to hate the place. And the teenagers you’ve been watching out for seem like just that - teenagers.

With a small sigh, you reposition your wallet so that it would easily fall out with a little tap and started to walk towards your main target, trying to act as though you were confused.

Looking around absently, you bump into a boy that you were told was named Steve Harrington. He was the oldest of the teenagers, making your superiors believe he is the ringleader of sorts. 

At least they were making you fake date a guy was pretty cute.

“I am so sorry!” You exclaim after bumping into him, trying to make your accent sound more ambiguous. You were informed of their previous run-ins with Russians, so you couldn’t let them catch on.

This Steve guy looked away from a curly-haired child and towards you, almost in a sort of awe. “It’s, uh… It’s no problem.”

Giving him a small smile, you slowly start to walk away as you put your hands in your pockets. You pretend to pat yourself down, signaling you’re missing something. “Shoot… My wallet…” You mumble loudly as you look around at the ground.

Before you knew it, Steve was right in front of you, flashing all his purely whites as he held out your wallet. “Drop this?”

You laughed a little, trying to make it sound a bit embarrassed. “Yes yes, thank you.”

While taking the wallet from him, you let your hand brush against his, holding it there for a moment.

Neither of you letting go yet, you opened your mouth to speak when he spoke first. “You’re not from here, are you?” Wow. Would take a genius to figure that out.

Smiling the snark comment off, you shook your head. “Just moved, actually.”

“From where?” Steve’s small curly-haired boy butted in, looking at you skeptically. 

It was more than obvious that people don’t just move to Hawkins, Indiana for the hell of it.

“Oh, far of yonder. Small European country.” You lied, smiling at the boy who you presumed was Dustin Henderson.

Two of the eight teens met. Not counting the three that moved recently. 

“Exotic.” Steve joked, nudging his little friend, who wasn’t amused at all. 

You forced a laugh to seem open to whatever this boy has to offer. “Well, thank you.” You repeated, slowly pulling your hand away and putting your wallet back in your pocket.

“Hey,”  he started again, giving a little shrug, “maybe I could give you a little tour around town? Tomorrow I get out of work at noon, so I could meet you at your place.”

Didn’t take much to get him to already ask you out.

With a smile, you gave him your address and turned around to start to walk back off to your ‘house.’

“I’m Steve, by the way!” He called out after you.

You turned your head, still walking away. “Y/N.”

----

It had been a week. Just a week. A week and this boy wouldn’t leave you alone. He was eating you up like a honey cake.

It was Saturday, exactly a week after your first ‘date.’ And you’ve spent almost each day with Steve. You’ve met everyone else in the group. 

They’ve all had their different levels of skepticism, but you have a feeling that getting close to Steve will be the best option for having the others begin to trust you.

Right now everyone was split up within a house. You believed it was the siblings’ Nancy and Mike Wheeler’s house. This seemed like their typical hangout house.

The youngest of the teens were in the basement and the older teens, plus you, were mingling in both the kitchen and living room.

The rundown of the group was obvious - Steve wasn’t as much of the ringleader as he was the heartthrob. There wasn’t even a ringleader at all. Nancy might be the closest thing to one. Dustin and Steve were very close, but Dustin was also very smart. If you could get close to Steve, he would convince Dustin you were good and that would convince everyone else in the group.

Right now Robin and Nancy were in the living room while you and Steve got some snacks together for the group.

“So, how has Hawkins been treating you?” Steve asked as he grabbed a bowl off a high shelf.

You shrugged a little. “If you’re Hawkins, then amazingly.” You joke. While he did give you a tour of the town, your focus was on him and his focus seemed to have been on you, too.

He smiled and handed you the bowl. “What can I say? I’m a top tier host.”

Smiling back at him, went for the bowl, lightly placing your hands overtop his. “I say you’re more than top tier host.”

He chuckled, leaning his hip against the counter, right in front of you. “I am truly honored.”

He slowly started to lean in, and the easiness of this job hit you.

Steve Harrington was falling for you as easy as a bowling ball falls from a skyscraper.

[seizethegrey]

to try again tomorrow

Dear nurse on the street:

In 2021, you took my arm and led me home through the Upper East Side. I was so drunk I could barely walk. I assume you found me stumbling up 2nd Avenue, or sitting on a curb in front of that shitty bar a block from the hospital.

I suppose you knew exactly what was up. You don't have to be a genius to spot a substance use disorder when a person is already blotted out drunk, and at that point, PTSD was a foregone conclusion for us all.

One of the weirder things about being an alcoholic is that I'll never remember the people who saved my life. For better or worse, you will always be faceless; your voice will always be a muddled burble like running water. Yet your empathy left a mark on me, something that will never fade.

It is easy to look back on that incredible dark moment in my life and all the moments like it and hate the person I was. Yet in that moment, you looked and me, and you didn't see a lost cause. You saw a person who deserved to go home that night, someone who deserved a chance to sleep it off and try again tomorrow. You didn't even know I was a doctor until you got me home, when my humiliated husband sputtered that out as one of the justifications that I wasn't currently a complete write-off of a human being, yet you took me home anyway.

I cannot help but be anodyne in my assessment of my disease. Indeed, the ability to think of disease in any other way is something that was patiently excised from my mind over many years. So I will put it this way: last month, I changed the qualifier for my diagnosis.

"Alcohol use disorder, moderate, with dependence, in early remission" has become "alcohol use disorder, moderate, with dependence, in sustained remission."

One year. That means one year.

The first time I really tried to quit was the day after you brought me home, and while it took me several more times to make it stick... I think it finally might have.

I have come to recognize that there is much I share with you. I have spent a lifetime figuratively and literally walking human beings home for the night, a faceless, nameless figure practiced in the art of giving people another day. I have always been a person with a bad disease, but I have also always been a person who helps.

I told my nurses once, at morning rounds, after months and months of ending loss and tragedy: "I want you to know that I came in this morning and I did what I do every morning. I looked through the charts. I looked at every dose of every medication.

"I would like to bring your attention to the fact that every night nurse who is here on rounds this morning walked into the room of a patient on palliative morphine and gave a dose... every four hours. Like clockwork. Even when the order was written 'as needed' rather than 'standing.'

"I see you. Maybe some people don't, but I see you. You're helping. Even those we cannot save, we can still help."

Then I went home and drank myself into a stupor... but tonight, I won't. If I work hard and I'm lucky, I never will again.

It turns out that a person who is willing to help a worthy cause even when that cause seems hopeless is a person worth fighting for.

[kedreeva]

Alright so im back amd hear me out is there any chance that ep 3 DOESNT end on a fucking cliffhanger thus forcing me into watching the entire season in one go (because if ep 3 end on a cliffhanger then i will Have to watch ep4 and if i do then bu the time i finished ep4 if i were to start ep3 rn it would about 4:30am here so no use going to bed anymore) so that i can actually say "one more episode" and do JUST that one more episode? Or am i doomed if i decide to just watch the next one and thne go to bed?

Also im v happy to hear you are enjoying your bread and that it is bringing you pleasant memories!! Also go do your fucking packing!! And writing!! And go to sleep!!!!!!!!!

I do fully agree that steve and jonathan should just simply kiss about their issues

Poor fucking nancy its really great starting to be able to Understand the characterization she receives in fancontent now and not just her but the others too though i must admit that i did imagine steve to be even more over the top than he currently is actually like disney movie level of "most popular guy in highschool" over the top

Episode 3 doesn't end on a cliffhanger, exactly, but it does end on a tragedy. You're not going to want to stop watching if you are watching this show. there's no good spot to stop because everything is happening so much!!!

And, well give it time, he gets worse before he gets better. I'm not sure that he's the most popular guy, honestly, so much as.... head honcho? There's a distinction somewhere in there that's probably important. There's actually an incident on screen where another student actually does come to him to solve a problem, instead of going to a teacher. It's really interesting to think about to me, what social dynamics, exactly, are going on, and what the FUCK is going on that ditching tommy and carol means STEVE loses his position? Who is Tommy that this is the case? I have questions.

Nancy is. There are a lot of people mad at Nancy or that don't- they haven't looked at her for herself, I guess. I've talked to people before about the things i see in nancy and had them turn around like hm didn't like her before but now that i'm seeing more, actually she's awesome. Because she IS AWESOME. She is heartbreaking.

I did do my packing, and I should get to sleep soon, but not quite yet. I've gotta go away all day tomorrow and bleed a bunch of birds for health testing. fun times. At least I'll have banana bread. Gonna go write now!

[callunavulgari]

Year in Books | 2023

I didn't have to decrease my book goal this year!!! Part of that IS because I caved and started out with a lower number after having to decrease my goal the last two years, but I am still taking it as a win.

Currently I have read a total of 80 books, speeding past my goal of 65. There is a possibility that I'll hit 81 or 82 by the new year, but we'll see how busy this next week is.

1. a book you loved?

I actually had A LOT of books that I loved this year. But I think that Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow and Tress of the Emerald Sea are tied for my favorites. Tomorrow is the sort of book that I want to write. It's the end goal for me. Not necessarily the subject matter, but the way that it makes you feel, how it doesn't pull its punches, how everything is small and large in equal turns, that circular storytelling where everything leads back to something, where everything is a series of perfectly narrated near-misses and almost-somethings. I don't know, I just really loved it. And then Tress is also the kind of book that I want to write, but on the other side of the spectrum. I was so incredibly delighted by every page and I love how obvious it was that it was a passion project, a true labor of love rather than something that he had to turn out for his editor.

2. a book you hated?

This stupid poetry book. Also Goblin Mode. Goblin Mode is at least my own fault for not understanding that it was more about how to BE a total goblin and not just a book about it? If that makes sense? I cannot say that I identify as a goblin or even understand goblincore. I do however know that I have been described many times as a bit of a gremlin. I do not need guide lines about what kind of shiny rocks to collect. I know because I do it. I like mushrooms and bugs because they're neat.

Oh, also this horrible book about puppets that is somehow popular.

3. a book that made you cry?

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow made me WEEP. I also shed a bit of a tear at the end of Starling House, just because it so perfectly embodies the joys and sorrows of a home.

4. a book that made you happy?

A Restless Truth and A Power Unbound were both so perfect for me. I mean, it's not SUCH a surprise because I've loved everything, fannish and otherwise, that Freya has churned out, but damn, they were wonderful. I actually think that A Restless Truth is my favorite of the trio, which is nuts because second books are rarely my favorite. But it's just such a perfect snowglobe of a book. It gives you Titanic feels, but instead of iceburgs and tragedy it gives you murder mysteries, magic, and lesbians.

5. the best sequel?

My HONEST answer is A Restless Truth, but since I just talked about that I'm going to croon my little heart out about Seasparrow, which is my favorite Graceling novel yet. Winterkeep very briefly had the top spot before this one and it's still VERY close, because I would give my life for Bitterblue, but this one just has so much character growth. It doesn't shy away from Hava's PTSD, doesn't shy away from those hard themes. You'll hate both her and Bitterblue at different points of the book, but then you delve a little deeper and see the trauma at the heart of it, and just. Guh. I loved it. Baby fox kits and Mama Fox were such an incredible highlight of this one. Also, Xanthe is such a fantastic narrator.

6. most anticipated release for the new year?

Freya has a new book, which I'm very excited about. I think that Alecto is also supposed to come out in the new year too, which I am beside myself about.

7. favorite new author?

I really loved GennaRose Nethercott's novel Thistlefoot. Same with Emma Torzs' Ink Blood Sister Scribe.

8. favorite book to film adaptation?

I actually really enjoyed both All the Light You Cannot See and Persuasion, but the real winners were Nimona and Interview with the Vampire. Nimona was SUCH a wildly fantastic movie. I loved it SO much. And then Interview with the Vampire, while not the most faithful adaptation, was LEAGUES better than the book. I could not STOP telling Nick about it, how crazy it was to have something where every little change they made to the book made it BETTER. I am still reeling over how perfect it was.

Also, it may be a little premature, but I am cautiously optimistic about the new Percy Jackson series!

9. the most surprising book?

Ugh okay, don't judge me but I went into Fourth Wing expecting to hate it but honestly I really liked it? Like yes, it is very obvious that she is still new to writing intimacy and I could probably write better smut in my sleep, but. BUT. There's DRAGONS, guys. Telepathic DRAGONS. And any books that puts dragons back on the map is okay in my books.

10. the most interesting villain?

Gah, honestly watching Rin work herself into a villain in The Burning God HURT. I understood every step of why that book went the way it did, why it had that ending, but god, that doesn't mean I have to like it. The villain in Starling House was also very interesting.

11. the best makeouts?

Man, Love Theoretically had me reading until 4am. It's fantastic. The smut is good. Take notes, Yarros. You too, Maas.

12. a book that was super frustrating?

I've already talked about the three I absolutely hated, and we'd be here all day if I ranted about the stupid puppet book, so instead I am going to talk about Juniper and Thorn, which is a book that I so badly wanted to like. Thematically, it was all there. Fairytales, witchery, sisters! But it was just so upsettingly bleak. I had to drag myself through the novel and it was like wading through molasses.

13. a book you texted about, and the text was IN CAPSLOCK?

Ha, not for good reasons, but I definitely capslocked about how BAD the puppet book was to one of my friends. I did spend multiple hours ranting to Nick about the ones that I did like though, namely Tress and Tomorrow.

14. a book for the small children in your life?

Yeah, I don't think any of the books that I read this year are really appropriate for small children? I technically think that Seasparrow is marketed for kids, but dang, it REALLY has hard themes.

15. a book you learned from?

I did not read a single non-fiction book last year so this year I made up for it by reading Milk, Cod, and Irish Wedding Traditions. I obviously read that last one because I was planning a wedding and my officiant let me borrow her much beloved copy because I was trying to figure out which wedding traditions that I wanted to work in and which ones I wanted to leave out.

Milk and Cod were honestly both really enjoyable. I'm out of practice when it comes to having the stamina for non-fiction books - they don't tend to hold my interest long enough to finish them, but Kurlansky has this fantastic way of writing that makes the history of the most mundane things absolutely fascinating.

16. a book you wouldn’t normally try?

So, it's technically fanfiction which I ordinarily wouldn't count towards this list, but I'm going to count Manacled because of the insanity of what it's become. All I know is I have spent years ignoring the recs for this fic because it's dark, because there's non-con, because I'm not really into Draco/Hermione. But one of our groomsmen spent a good portion of a Halloween party talking it up to me after he read it as a bet with his girlfriend so she would watch Star Wars with him, so I decided to give it a shot. I finished it in a weekend. I liked it. I also really hated it. But mostly liked it. It IS bleak, too bleak for me if I'm honest, and the emotional bleed-off was INTENSE, but I don't regret reading it.

17. a book with something magical in it?

A lot of books I read this year were magical in some way, because let's be real, that's how I like my fiction. A Power Unbound was the most overtly magical. A Day of Fallen Night was so incredibly rich, expanding on the groundwork that Priory had settled. The Empire of Gold was magical in the most interesting way. Hell Bent was magical for spooky reasons. And Babel was just fascinating in its own right.

18. the best clothes?

Probably either A Restless Truth or A Day of Fallen Night.

19. the most well-rounded characters?

A Day of Fallen Night or The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi. Both of these books were masterpieces when it came to both characterization and world-building.

20. the best world-building?

Speaking of world building... definitely going to be A Day of Fallen Night. I also really loved the world-building in The Oleander Sword.

21. the worst world-building?

Fuck the puppet book.

22. a book with a good sidekick?

Honestly almost every book that I've talked about has compelling side characters. A Day of Fallen Night. The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi. The Empire of Gold.

23. the most insufferable narrator?

Still not a big fan of the Mistborn books narrator, but he's not as grating on 2x speed.

24. a book you were excited to read for months beforehand?

A Power Unbound. A Day of Fallen Night. Starling House. Tress of the Emerald Sea.

25. a book you picked up on a whim?

I ended up picking up The Murderbot series because my last Illumicrate box had a mug for it in there and I was curious and oh my GOSH, how has it taken me this long to start these?

26. a book that should be read in a foreign country?

Honestly none of them really give me that vibe. Maybe Babel because of Oxford or A Restless Truth because it's on a cruise ship?

27. your favorite cover art?

A Day of Fallen Night, Seasparrow, or A Power Unbound.

28. a book you read in translation?

I don’t think any were.

29. a book from another century?

I don’t think any of them were written in another century, but a couple of them took place in another century. Does that count? Oh god, wait. Does Return of the King count since it was from the 1900s? Oh my god, I am giving myself psychic damage.

30. a book you reread?

I ended up rereading the first Captive Prince near the end of the year, Red White and Royal Blue because of the movie, and the entire Shades of Magic series for reasons.

31. a book you’re dying to talk about, and why?

Daisy Jones & the Six was really good! I did not realize that it wasn't about a real band until afterwards. Also, my words won't do it justice, but Christ, go read Babel. Just be mindful of the hurt it'll cause.

Oh! Oh! Also The World We Make! But get the audiobook version of it because it is SO fun.

[yrluvjane]

CONGRATS MY FRIEND :) I have so loved getting to chat with you these past couple of weeks, it's so much fun!!

so I couldn't choose what to do, so I figured I'll just put these all here, and whatever you want to do you can do!

The Tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra — fmk: James, Sirius, Regulus

One Hundred Years of Solitude — what about DBF! James!!

The Picture of Dorian Grey —

Pride and Prejudice — before I was a Nutrition major, I REALLY wanted to be a marine biologist! sharks are my favorite animal and I wanted to work in conservation for Great Whites

Frankenstein — “Hey, look at me. I’m yours and no one can change that.” - w/ DBF! James

Jane Eyre —

Dracula —I get to see a guy that I have a crush on tomorrow. we've been friends for years and I think he could like me too. we're going on a date hehe

Oh my goodness 😂😂😂 ahh! Thank you soooo much! We're best friends now! Our conversations are literally the best!

Okay, I'm gonna number these!

Fuck Regulus, Marry James, Kill Sirius (I'm sorry, I'm in my reg phase of the month)

I think I've given you too many of those 😂😂 James definitely got you a pendant or bracelet or something that has a deep meaning to you; could have a quote engraved/ a birth stone maybe even the date of your first kiss?

Something is missing in the picture of dorian grey

Marine Biologist? I wanted to be one when I was 11 or something. I think I was inspired by a Barbie movie. Oof, I think... Have you watched Dolphin Tale, it's a movie, and I haven't finished it really, but I think you might like it.

"Hey," you watched with a scowl on your face as one of your mom's friends began to make her way towards James; she had her hair pushed back and a very dark shade of red on her lips. You watched from the other end of the table as she placed her hands over James's arm, trailing her hands all the way up to his shoulders but not before making a comment on James's figure and giving his biceps a squeeze. You placed your drink down with a little too much force before walking over towards them, "Aunt Dezmelda!" You said feigning cheerfulness as you stood next to James, "Oh! Look at you, you're all grown up!" She said with a strained smile. " Yes, that's what humans do grow up, your husband's looking for you! Somewhere over there!" You stated and before she could reply you gripped James's arm and dragged him inside the house. "That women is pure evil, you shouldn't talk to her, at all." You said as you glared at the woman's figure, you were pretty far away and you had to step up on your toes to keep an eye on her. James's fingers gripped your chin and faced you towards him, “Hey, look at me. I’m yours and no one can change that.” "I don't know what you are talking about." You stated and watch a playful grin spread over James' face, "Are you telling me that you were not ready to fight her for touching me? Cause by the way you were baring your teeth at her, it looked like you wanted to rip her throat." You scoffed and turned away.

You're going on a date?! Congratulations! I've never been on a date, I don't know what's supposed to happen! But I hope it turns out amazing!

[omegas-spaghettios]

NO WAY HOME SPOILER DISCUSSION

I'm not lying to you: major spoilers!

I loved this film. I'm going again tomorrow but I just need to talk about it. I'll make future posts about themes and shit but for now I wanna talk about characters.

Happy/Flash/Betty/Old Supporting Cast: They were good, not really new on anything, but i really liked them before anyway! Just, these characters and the teachers and such, they aren't the main takeaways and I don't wanna spend much time with them tbh.

Mysterio: I'm glad he wasn't still alive or pulled from other universes, as people theorized. He is better dead, it works with the themes of the trilogy about murder and death to have him be dead. He was fantastic in FFH, I'm glad we didn't use him too much and left room for this movie's rather huge cast.

JJJ: Only character I have more negative than positives about. I know he isn't the same as Raimi's, but he had so little presence and it was sad to me? In the ending when they showed him talking about Spider-Man's identity, I kinda got shocked cause wow, he really was in the movie and I forgot. Simmons' JJJ has been the best comedic character out of ANY Spider-Man film and it made me kinda sad to realize his return left so little impact.

MJ: Not a whole lot to say, she was really cool and really supportive, it was heartbreaking to see her forget Peter. She is very solid and enjoyable, just not any intricate thoughts, what can I tell you, she was awesome and that's all I need to say.

May: I called her death with my friends, just wanted to add that. But she really got her dues here, the previous movies pretty much reduced her to hot aunt and I'm so happy she took a much more central role. She pushed Peter to be better than he was, to really own up to his power by taking responsibility, and I'm so happy for it. Her death was heartbreaking, but my goodness, she was better here than in any of her other MCU appearances.

I also love how, even right before she died, she demanded that Peter saved her killer. THAT'S the Parker way, just, UGH.

Ned: I liked that he showed a knack for wizardry and, while not the biggest loss by the end of the movie, it makes me sad that the climax ensured he wouldn't be able to pursue his talents, you know? A layer of tragedy to an already tragic ending, but it made him very happy. I'm glad that in his final days with Spider-Man (for now), he finally got to stop living the superhero life through Peter and got a bit for himself.

Eddie/Matt: Very faithful proper introductions into the MCU. I know this Matt technically isn't the Netflix one but I still was FLOORED when he appeared. Catching the brick, the glasses, it was him. Eddie was a mess, confused, looked like shit, they truly knew what we loved about him. Very faithful cameos that enhanced the overall multiverse feel without being overpowering. Also, the Symbiote tease is incredible. Peter has a huge darkness in him now, the Symbiote can really prey on that. I'm excited yet fearful for their futures together.

Wong: Wong got his due and it made me so happy. He deserves to be Sorcerer Supreme and I'm very happy that he is, at least for now. I also like that the trailer was misleading and that Wong in the movie was more sympathetic. He knew how dangerous it was to make the spell work, but he didn't condemn it like in the trailer, and it added a great deal of empathy for him as he acknowledged that yes, it's dangerous, but this kid is suffering and he has done so much, they can try and give some back.

Strange: This is not a Sinister Six film by any means, but Strange does make six antagonists, and he certainly is an antagonist. He is in character, this is him. He's a bit meaner than the Avengers appearances yeah (but look at how different Steve is from TFA to The Avengers, crossovers stretch characters), but he is not ooc. With full knowledge, he let Tony die for a greater good, I totally buy that he would not care for these 5 villains lives. And I think his arrogance and bite does come from being demoted, that probably wounded his pride. He was harsh, but in the end he said "those who love and care for you, we won't remember you". He said "we". He cares for Peter, despite his, uh, more extreme reactions.

Lizard: Got a design upgrade, a slight one, but he did. He looked more reptilian and less live action Goomba, his voice wasn't as deep, and overall I was satisfied with the few moments he got. I have a real soft spot for Curt Conners in TASM 1, and while I knew he wouldn't get as much attention, what they did do felt faithful and loving all the same, and I was happy.

Sandman: His redesign was interesting, it helped him stand out. His constant sandy form did help keep the scenes from being "a bunch of guys in weird clothes standing next to a guy with octopus arms", it kept the scenes of them all together feeling more otherworldly. I also love that he worked with Peter on the spot, very faithful to his redemption. Idk why he went villain again and I'll look for it tomorrow, but yeah. Also sidenote, I'm glad that the lines about "them all dying to Spider-Man" was cut, it was inaccurate for 2 of the 5 villains and I'm glad it got a bit more nuance than they all died.

Electro: He was certainly much better than he was in TASM 2. I'm really glad that they brought Jaimi back and let him play a version of the character he liked more, it shows respect for the old movies BY changing them. They honor what the actor wanted and I think that shows so much more love for Spider-Man and the team behind the Amazing films, they allow them to improve on things they didn't like rather than stick strictly to the past. I loved his presence, he felt like a cougar ready to pounce at any moment.

Doc Ock: He was reduced to laughing stock a lot but I think it fits. Otto is an incredibly prideful man, so him being so thoroughly disarmed by a 17 year old boy (and laughed at by him and his friends) would certainly make him indignant. Either way, he has many stand out scenes. His introduction was incredibly tense, particularly when he started pulling the helicopter into Peter, trying to shred him. Alfred Molina was so damn good when Otto was cured. You could see the disbelief, the shock, then suddenly the relief and joy, it was incredibly beautiful. I also am very glad he got to build a relationship with Norman, something they didn't get to in their own trilogy. His rescue of Peter 2 and 3 as well as his discussion with Peter 2 was incredible as well. Overall a very faithful adaptation.

Norman/Goblin: Tied for my favorite character, he was just raw. Willem Dafoe is the most stand out performance, he was incredible in this film. Also fun fact, Willem only came back on the condition that he did all of his own stunts. This 66 year old man was doing the stunts of the main villain of one of the biggest superhero films of all time, just, wow. Norman was so kindly and I felt for him, his fear, his confusion. The way he nearly cried when he mentioned that his son no longer existed, I just, it hurt. I know he showed more kindness and love in this than in Spider-Man 1, but you really appreciate what you have once it's gone, and that makes you appreciate what you do have. His relationship with May was also adorable.

Well, until it wasn't.

Goblin is mortifying, easily a top 3 MCU villain and a STRONG contender for the best, idk I haven't thought too hard about it. He brought something out of Peter that we haven't seen. Even before he killed May, Goblin made Peter fight so much more brutally, their fight in the apartment complex is chilling. Goblin cackling as Peter beat him down was so damn terrifying. I also loved how Willem portrayed Norman/Goblin leading up to Goblin taking control. Every mention of Goblin made Norman seem a bit more off, especially on my second watch it created such Dread, seeing Goblin come slowly, piece by piece.

I'll save most of the discussion of his fight with Peter on the Shield in Peter's section, but Goblin did that. Goblin brought our Peter, the MCU hero most against killing, to absolute blood lust, and that alone makes him a monster.

Peter 3/Andrew: The second character tied for my favorite (one of three). Andrew legitametly was so good in this. I am astounded that he was honestly more cool to see show up than Tobey, his introduction was so much better.

Let's take a sidenote real quick: I don't like TASM 2. I loved Andrew in the first one. He didn't quite know how to explain his genius, he lacked some tact with time, he had anger issues, but he did everything he could in the end to do right by his uncle and the world. His Spider-Man was initially so mean and aggressive but you can see it mellow out as he comes to better terms with Ben's death. He was incredible and definetly not too cool. Yeah, he was hot and skateboards, but he was so bad at interacting with his classmates that I can see why he was bullied, but he was so smart and kind that I can see why he grabbed Gwen's eye. TASM 2 ruined that. There are multiple instances in fights where he fucks around needlessly and people die. In the opening fight with Rhino, he gets on the truck and messes around for half a minute before jumping off to help people. If he had just stopped Rhino instead of goofing off less people would have died, as right after he jumped off Rhino plowed through an intersection, undoubtedly killing the occupants of the cars he hits. I also hate how he refused to help Harry because of potential consequence, Peter saves everyone he can, even his villains. Speaking of, he straight up murdered Electro and no one cared. He also just stalks Gwen? Gwen's death was very well done, but I can't stand Peter in that movie otherwise. I don't mind Peter being in the wrong, but the movie never makes any attempt to paint these things as wrong or mistakes, and that is what really irks me.

In NWH they refine both interpretations very well. He is clunky and weird and anxious, even more so than the other two, but he's so endearing and you can tell that he has more confidence despite not quite nailing interaction with other people yet. He has the failings of TASM 2, but this time they are shown as wrong. He mentions not pulling his punches anymore. Now, that doesn't exclusively mean killing, but if a guy who can throw cars is going all out on a regular crook, well, 1 + 1 = 2. But it works for this movie! His guilt, his regret, he hates what he has become. He wants to stop Tom's Peter from becoming what he did, and he is reminded of what Spider-Man is himself.

I also love him catching MJ. I don't view it as a redemption, really, it isn't. Gwen is still dead, the people he killed are still dead. But it shows that he's back on the horse. He learned and he is genuinely trying to save someone he views to be his younger brother and his loved ones. It was a catch of love for his younger brother, not of redemption for himself. And the way he cries, it's painful to remember, but he's guarding his brother's loved ones. I just, I love Andrew in this film so much. He also saves Electro in this film and shows a genuine want to be his friend, his true friend, which again, shows his growth from the dark path he went down.

Peter 2/Tobey: He was really cool to see! He had mad Youth Pastor vibes and I loved his interactions with his villains, especially how he saves Norman. I'm going to keep his section brief because God this is long, but I adored him.

Peter 1/Tom, who I will call Peter: the third favorite in the three way tie. His arc is incredible. I love how sinister his final confrontation is with Goblin, how brutal it is. It's chilling that when Tobey stopped him he didn't immediately stop pushing, he kept going for a bit, he was trying to go through Tobey, he was willing to kill him to get to Goblin, if even for a moment. But he doesn't. I have a post here if you want to hear my extended thoughts on Peter and his arc in the MCU about murder.

His final decision is strangely optimistic. He is hurt deeply that no one remembers him, but he isn't crushed. He seems almost optimistic about the future. MJ and Ned are in MIT and he is happy for them. He is in no rush to get back to where he was with them, he seems content to give it time. He also seems happy to be in his own apartment finally. He is a young man ready to keep going with life, despite all of his losses, and that is also core to Peter Parker, how he keeps going despite the hell he goes through.

I also love two of his new suits. The inside out look was just to sell toys, but the other two? Amazing. I love that the upgraded suit was really just a gold piece of armor over his FFH suit. I love that it is a symbol of what he stands for, Ock gave it to him as a gift for curing him. I also love his final swing suit. It's homemade so it looks cheaper which I love, but I also love how he designed it to look more like the other two Peters' suits.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[medicdoodles]

(Part 1) || (Part 2)

This is where all the saucy bits happen. The beginning is just justification of why my sex-adverse Wheeljack couldn't adopt kids. Then Ratchet goes into heat.

It's been several lunar cycles since He and Ratchet bonded together and not much has changed between them. Sometimes they show each others sparks but still nothing like that night.

However they were still more secure, at peace, happy. That's when Wheeljack gets the idea in his CPU.

What if they raised a sparkling? He thinks they'd be good parents, Ratchet my be a little rude at times but he was so patient and kind it would smooth out Wheeljack's more surely personality.

"Oh nonsense 'Jack you'll be the best parent this planet has ever seen." His bond mate said as he snuggles closer to him and he supposes that's that.

Afterwards both of them head towards the adoption center. Wheeljack is more than sure they would pass inspection. He was three lunar cycles into his career as the Head of Iacon's Research and Development Center, while Ratchet just got appointed as The Prime's personal medic. They'd just moved to their small apartment complex to a larger house in the outskirts of town.

They were practically the type of adopters the agency looks for in applications, but tragedy struck when they looked at their background, specifically Ratchet's. Wheeljack wasn't exactly sure about his bond mates history, but neither did Ratchet. All they knew was built in an adult frame to be a doctor.

However when they went to see their submition all of the bots there feared him. Their case agent was repulsed by Ratchet's present and at one point it got so bad they asked for him to step out.

That's when they told him, because of where Ratchet origin of manufacturing was why they were scared he would cannibalize any bit they'd take. If Wheeljack wanted to reapply he would have to disavow his bond with him. They were black listed from all adoption centers on the planet.

When they got home Wheeljack didn't stop Ratchet from taking the high grade enegx bottle into the spare room, the room that would have been for their bitlet, and leaves him for the night. He is doing much better as he takes to grieving at the main floor of the common room. He wonders if tomorrow will be easier to get through.

------

Times passes and sure enough walking by that room always hurts but now it's more of a sharp sting than the turbine halting agony it was before. Making his way towards his and Ratchet's room, Wheeljack works on his resolve. Tonight is it, he's going to set aside his indifference of facing and try to properly spark his mate.

The first thing that hit him was the rancid smell of heat. The leaking, sopping, sobbing mess of his beloved makes Wheeljack's spark sink. Seeing his brave, headstrong, and caring medic, reduced to a needy breeding sow hurts and now he was going to treat him as such.

"Hey Ratchet." He places a digit on Ratchet's sticky thigh and the reaction was instant. Ratchet sits up, wraps his arms around him and drags him back down into the berth.

"Please Wheeljack." Ratchet says between kisses. "I want it. Need it." Grinds his valve against his partner's spike's housing. "I'll be a good carrier. I promise. Please just fill me."

Ratchet starts to tear up and without hesitation Wheeljack rubs his helm against his windshield. "Shhhh. I know you will. Just give me a second and I'll make you feel better." He manages to unfurls himself from Ratchet, reaches for his space sub and pulls out the invention he made.

They're claws or rather metallic tentacles. He designed them to explore his partner's frame, to look for the places that really make him scream. One of them wraps around Ratchet's beautiful red wrist, binding both servos together, the tip wiggles in between his digits, sending him to a frenzy. The second one then moves over his chassis, behind his helm, and logged into his mouth.

As the last two wrap around his hip thighs and tease his hip joints, Wheeljack slids his face mask off and places a kiss in the center of his spark casing. It opens to present the life force for merging, for breeding, and Wheeljack responses in kind. He kisses the four main power cords that send power to all sectors of the frame, sits up so he can watch it spin on pleasure and uses four digits to soothe it.

He doesn't notice when that awful smell of heat became so sweet, so alluring, but Primus, the small amount of friction that Ratchet can get from grinding his valve on his frame is enough to finally release his spike. This is probably the first time either of them seen it, so large in both length and girth, it would probably hit his partner's gestation chamber with room to spare. Top plating green and the bottom base the dark gray of his face plate, separated by a red accent.

Ratchet goes from gasping in desperation to sing in bliss as he finally, finally, pushes in. Taking the first few thrust to measure how much room he has to work with, it's a slow and steady pace, making sure to always hit the chamber opening.

Concluding that indeed he can't use the full length of his spike, Wheeljack picks up the pace, trying to grind on the nodes in Ratchet's valve as he goes in and out, its head never leaving that wonderful heat. He shifts both of them so Ratchet legs angle upwards, helm pushing into the berth, making it easier to thrust.

He kisses the windshield right above his mate's spark as his first overload hits him. Gritty his denta as he tries to make sure all of his transfulid enters his conjunx. The tentacle that was in Ratchet's mouth moves over wrap it self around his mid size and holds him in place.

Now that Wheeljack has fully been caught by the heat pharamons, he waste no time to start again, and again, and again. His mate is pass the point of higher thought that all he can really do is stick his glossa out in defeat and drool into overload. They both lasted much longer than any other bot would, maybe the tenth or eleventh overload, before they collapsed in exhaustion.

Even his invention had long been burnt out by the amount of energy it needed to keep pace. He doubt they could patch them out with having to start over in design. They started again when the breeding code realized it wasn't completed. Ratchet's chamber was still open and Wheeljack jacked in. He dosen't have any transfulid in reserve, Ratchet's frame had milked as much as it could, but he does notice that his spark casing is open, maybe spark energy will be enough to sate him.

He switches his pace to slow and controlled, while he focused on making sure their sparks all but melted together. He could hear his Ratchet's thoughts, his feelings. How he thinks how luck he is, that Wheeljack really is the best thing to happen to him, that he's happy he's going to give him the best home. It's so domestic that in his right mind he would be disgusted by it.

Wheeljack knows the reality of his mate, that he would never subject Ratchet to a life of trophy mate when he is most happy working. Carrying their bitlet, however, might give him the excuse to pamper him properly. At least it takes a full luner cycle of Moon 002 for the eggs to harden, plenty of time to give him everything without much fussing.

After third rotation, their sparks split. The heat pharamons stop being produced and the code is at 100%. Wheeljack moves to give Ratchet a kiss, it was mess and his mates glossa is still limp from bliss. He wipes both of them down, proceeds to close everything up and finally shuts down.

------

Waking up Wheeljack is alone on the berth, thermo tarp set to a cozy temperature. It wasn't long before Ratchet walks in with two cubes of energon in his servos and makes way toward him. He sits up, takes the cube when Ratchet places a kiss on his helm and watches his mate make himself comfortable on the edge of the berth. "You shouldn't be up yet." Wheeljack takes a huge gulp.

"I'm restless of all this laying about.", Ratchet said as he swirls the cube around before he takes a sip. "Besides I figure I'd get a few more miles in before the bittys come to." He gives him a smug smile as Wheeljack tries spit out his drink but gets stuck in his mask.

"Yeah?", he looks at him in disbelief, vision drifts down to his middle, to his spark chamber. "How many?" Wheeljack has to stop himself from hitting helm for that dumb question.

"Three, although at the rate they're growing they'll probably split apart sooner rather than later." Ratchet then shakes his ped with his free servo, "Lucky me though. Having a conjux with a big package but totally against facing."

"Yeah... Lucky you, having a loving Conjux."

"Yeah..."

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fic: Like It's Christmas Again [2/2]

Summary: As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.

[AU/AH, Hallmark-movie inspired (I kid you not), Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers Holidays fluffapalooza]

---

Part 2: Jingle All the Way 🎄

"You gave me one condition when you agreed to let us use the manor for the festival," she points out. "All I had to do was make sure that your single and very straightforward condition would be met, and I couldn't even do that. I was sloppy and inefficient and you shouldn't be repaying my lapse with kindness." Klaus laughs, a full, hearty laugh, and Caroline scowls. "It's not funny."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. That has to be the first time I get complaints for not being an absolute bell-end." He laughs again. Caroline stifles a chuckle on principle. She doesn't want to lose track of her responsibilities again, but it's hard not to give in to the rich sound of his laughter or those annoying dimples cutting deep into his cheeks. It distracts her from her own self-recrimination. "Relax, Caroline," he says lightly. "I suppose it's not the end of the world."

She turns to him like he's an alien. "Really? That's not what it sounded like when you were snapping at Josh and grumbling all day."

"That's just a normal Tuesday for me, love," he dismisses it.

"What if there are TMZ paps on your front door tomorrow?"

He scoffs. "I'm a businessman, not a movie star. I assure you TMZ does not care about what I do for Christmas."

"And if the story makes it back to New York?"

Klaus shrugs. "I'll just have to bite off some heads to remind everyone I'm not to be trifled with. It's not exactly a tragedy. Gives me the perfect excuse to be at my absolute worst."

Read the full chapter here 🎄 Or start with Part 1 here 🎅

---

I have managed to get this out before the end of January! Victory! 🙌 We can still count January as part of the Holiday spirit, right? OK, then. 😁

Thanks very much to everyone who read and left me a note on this story! So happy you folks enjoyed this fluff-Hallmark-fest! :)

As always, big shout out to @recyclingss and @definedareasofuncertainty for all the support, cheerleading efforts an for enabling me to write this festival of fluffy holidays tropes. 🤣

Your comments, kudos and reblogs are so, so welcome and make this fic writer very happy! ❤️ Hope you guys enjoy the end of this story!

[sahesha]

the fire withcer

Hi, @pure-kirarin!!! I was glad to receive your request! And I'm happy that I can do something nice for you! I'm afraid that it came out not quite what is described in the request, but here is a story I wrote <3

word count: 2,9k

warnings: slavery and angst (but with happy end!)

highlight: "In front of you stood the Fire Witcher himself."

Sitting in the cramped wood barracks with the other slaves, you tried to figure out if life had always been like this or not. Your memories of what happened before you got here were too blurry. It seemed to you that there never was any "before." As if your existence has always been like this, devoid of even a hint of joy and rest. When was the last time you smiled?

You touched your lips. Dry, cracked at the corners, they forgot how to smile. But you didn't even have a reason to smile. You sighed inaudibly and covered yourself with a ragged, thin blanket that didn't warm you at all. You were resistant to the cold, though. Or you were too tired to feel it. Right now, you needed to shut out the other slaves. Their quiet lamentations were unbearable. You had enough of your own suffering. Besides, you've been told that you need to move to another place tomorrow. Ahead, the unknown lay like a black blur.

The brand of the Flying Dragon's Paw burned into your back had long since healed and didn't hurt. After all, it's been more than ten years. But it seemed to you that it burned through your soul, and nothing would heal you.

You closed your eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

***

"Too small," Tenryuubito muttered. Droplets of saliva dripped from his greasy lips. One of them landed on your nose, and you growled like a cat. You've had a habit of making animal noises since you were a child. Each mood had its own sound. Now you were angry. A tall, tawny man grabbed you by the scruff of the neck with his big hand and shook you to calm you down. You tried to twist around and bite him. The man didn't change his face and threw you on the floor. The chain rattled.

"I hate you all!" you yelled high-pitched, leaping to your feet again. "You killed my family! You destroyed my city! You destroyed my country!"

"Filthy trash," the fat nobleman snorted. "Your small country wasn't part of the World Government. So nobody gives a shit about what happened there. Your huge, as you think, tragedy doesn't really matter. Even more so for me."

You flinched as if you'd been slapped.

"What should I do with her, master?" the tall servant asked with a distinct indifference in his voice.

"Her face is beautiful, of course. I'll wait until she's older," Tenryuubito chuckled. The fan fluttered over him as he sat on the plump sofa. Five slaves stood in a row against the wall, looking at the floor. "Send her to the fieldwork, where she will be quickly broken. Then, if there is anything left of her beauty, bring her to me. Now brand this girl, Number One."

Phlegmatically, Number One put on his thick gloves and picked up a long rod with a red-hot tip from the brazier. You tried to dodge, but the chain on your leg tightened, and you fell. Two slaves wordlessly approached, grabbed you by the shoulders, and pinned you to the cold marble floor. Another one put a piece of firm rubber in your mouth. You bit his fingers until they bled, but he didn't make a sound. His eyes were blank. It seemed so unnatural that you tried to scream yourself, but the rubber plugged you tight.

Then came the pain.

***

The alarm siren yelled, ripping the night in half. You lifted your head and glanced out the narrow window. The sky looked as if it had been dipped in blood. A fire raged like a furious hellhound, released from its chain. The white stone palace seemed to melt from its bites. Wave after wave of flames rose and fell like the punishment of the underworld.

You jumped to your feet and ran to the exit without thinking. If the fire reaches the barracks, no one can escape. The awakened slaves stared at you in fear. They looked like helpless children, and even the glow of the flames didn't make their eyes brighter. Years of humiliation, hunger, and loss had turned them into the pale shadows of people.

"Hurry up, you idiots!" you growled suddenly, even for yourself. The door was locked from the outside. "Help me, or we'll all die!"

They didn't even move, like little lambs in pen, who sensed the approach of death but were too scared to do anything.

"I order you to get up and break down the damn door!" you were so angry that your scream was momentarily drowned out by the roar of the fire. Finally, the slaves realized what was happening, and they rushed to the exit. You thought they would knock you down, but the crowd flowed around you like a river around a rock. This river of people literally kicked in the door and flowed out. You ran out after them and looked about, assessing the situation. Apparently, the island was attacked by either pirates or rebels. Here were no guards. Probably, all the forces were thrown to fight back. It was necessary to hurry so as not to fall from one slavery to another.

The slaves began to panic and ran around stupidly. You growled again, but this time out of annoyance and frustration. For a moment, you thought it was none of your business anymore, and you could run away unnoticed. But something inside you forbade you to do this, and you gathered these timid sheep into a single flock as if you were a shepherd's dog. Then you chased them all into the nearest forest and ordered them to hide. They were so obedient, it was starting to scare and annoy you even more than before.

You climbed a tree to watch what was happening. It all depended on who attacked the island, the pirates or the revolutionaries. The revolutionaries were the preferred option, as they wouldn't have harmed the slaves you accidentally took responsibility for. Squinting, you tried to see people in the distance. Hard work and beatings have caused your health to deteriorate, as has your eyesight.

In the middle of the square in front of the palace, a man stood. He was dressed in an official-looking suit of dark cloth and wore a tall top hat on his head. You couldn't see more detail, except that he was surrounded on all sides by your masters' people. You remembered a picture in a book you read as a child. It illustrated peasants with pitchforks and torches driving a witch into an open, clover field. On the next page, the witch was already burning at stake. "Die, you spawn of Satan!" was yelling the peasants, standing around.

You thought the man was going to die.

Suddenly, flames shot up behind him, as if from his spine, another fiery one had separated. It began to grow, rushing from side to side and roaring like the hellhound. Fully formed, the beast charged forward, sweeping away the humans on its path. The stranger was standing in the middle of the fire, unharmed. Not even his clothes were burned.

You looked at it with the same fascination as moths fly to the blinding light. They must have been thinking the same thing as you. Their whole being was drawn to the wild, elemental beauty. You wanted to jump down from the tree you climbed and plunge into the hellfire. It was roaring as if it was wounded in the heart. And that heart was living man from flesh, bone, and blood.

He was the Fire Witcher.

You only came to your senses when the flames died down. Other people approached him, running, but they were not his enemies but allies. Then they grouped together under his confident leadership and moved toward the rest of the buildings. You finally managed to see the symbol of the Revolutionary Army and breathed a sigh of relief. You all were saved.

You suddenly realized that you were smiling.

***

You were transported by ship to a camp for freed slaves. From there, each of you could go to your homeland or stay to help the Revolutionary Army. All the time you were moving, you were thinking. You had nowhere to go back to, your loved ones were all dead, and there was no purpose in life. The prospect of joining the revolutionaries was no worse than the others.

Sometimes you saw that man on the deck. It was a young guy about twenty or twenty-three years old. His hair, which framed his fair, pretty face in large curls, glittered gold in the sun, and his eyes were more azure than the sea. The air around him seemed to sparkle, filling with his own radiance. Only the burn scar on the left side of his face broke the integrity of his angelic appearance. It was as if Devil had stolen him from the crib and marked him with his flaming kiss, leaving the satanic seal and turning him into the Fire Witcher. But that brand didn't stifle his strength. The hellhound he could unleash still lived in your mind, roaring with rage.

You asked cabin boys who were hanging from the mainmast ropes like jumpy monkeys what his name was. "It's Sabo. He's the second leader after Dragon! He's really cool!" Their young voices rang like silvery bells with admiration, and their eyes were glowing like little sunbeams. So this person wasn't cruel to them. You thanked them for the answer and went back to your corner. There you could be alone with your unending thoughts.

You were remembering.

***

When you were a kid, you were kind of a pyro. A box of matches was always in the little pocket of your lace dress. Your parents told you it was dangerous, but the result was zero. You couldn't let go of the opportunity to light the little candles in your treehouse. Finally, your parents decided that it was useless to dissuade you and strictly ordered you to be careful with the fire.

Dressed in a black silk dress with a white collar and sleeves, you sat down at a low table in front of a round mirror. All your tiny treasures were here. Fragile seashells laid inside the lacquered box with a bow on the lid. A string of pearl beads curled up like an albino snake there, too. An azure china service sat neatly on a pale pink serviette. The kettle had a chip on the handle, but it was still beautiful. Many candles were on a large plate, the gilding of which had almost worn off.

You lit candles, and their light was reflected in your big greenish eyes. The lights fluttered with your breath. They were so beautiful, so vibrant, miniature hearts pulsated inside them, and they danced as alive beings. You thought the lights were smiling at you. Sparkling joy was growing in your chest. You loved the fire, and the fire loved you. You couldn't explain it to others and even yourself, but you knew. And you were sorry you couldn't kiss it because it seemed so soft and sweet.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your round cheeks looked like rosy apples in the candlelight, and there was a shimmering radiance in your big eyes. Your dark, straight locks, neatly combed and tied back with a white ribbon, glistened. You looked like a little Gothic princess, and the warm glow of the fire made you even more beautiful.

You chirped like a sparrow. Your current joy was associated with birds singing.

"Y/N, go to dinner!" rang out suddenly. The lights flickered as if outraged.

You looked out the window. Your mother was standing below, peering into the thick foliage that hid your treehouse. She made a wonderfully graceful gesture with her right hand, pointing you to the cottage. Beautiful, fragile, and doe-like, she smiled sweetly.

"Five more minutes, please," you said.

"All right, but I want you at the table in five minutes, little witch," she said with mock severity, then smiled again and left. The wind ruffled her long, dark hair. The leaves rustled especially tenderly today. In the distance, the sea glittered like a blue crystal under the white sun.

You were happy as no one on the Earth.

But this night, that clear sea created the worst nightmare of your life. Warships appeared on the horizon. The maroon Flying Dragon's Paw fluttered on their white sails.

***

One morning you went on deck, wanting to breathe in the fresh sea breeze. The fog crawled over the sea and the smooth planks of the deck like a living being. It was cold. The simple gray dress the revolutionaries gave you wasn't warm, but you didn't care. Now you knew that the cold had never been a threat to you. But the fire was sealed with a brand burned into your back.

The skirt of the dress fluttered like the wings of a moth. You seemed to yourself too gray to live on. You were angry, you were upset, and violent desperation has demolished you. The returned memories hurt. Your life was stolen from you. It was unfair, and you couldn't stand it. This pain was too much.

You climbed up on the railing. The wind ruffled your dark hair, which for some reason haven't turned gray after all the trials you have endured. You let out the sad trill of a nightingale and lifted one foot. The cold seawater should have extinguished your last sparks.

Suddenly, sturdy male arms wrapped around you and pulled away from the edge. You tried to twist away, but the man held you tight. You kicked him a few times, but his muscles were like steel, and he didn't even flinch. When you realized you couldn't escape, you doubled over and started crying. The man was silent, giving you a chance to lament.

You wept long and bitterly, and with every sob, with every tear shed, your grief and sorrow for the lost for nothing years melted away. Powerful arms now hugged you soft. At some point, you realized that a broad palm clad in black glove was stroking your hair. You tried to turn around, but you couldn't because you were exhausted.

The man turned you around himself, and you saw Sabo.

"I hope you're all right now," Sabo said calmly. His calmness was not indifferent but comforting. You heard his voice for the first time, and it was beautiful as if not human was speaking, but the fire that had taken the form of human. It was warm, and there was just the faintest crackle, like a tree in flames. This was so unusual that you wanted Sabo to say something else.

"I... yes, I'm fine," you replied softly.

"Are you sure you won't jump overboard?" he asked, still holding you by the waist. Somehow, he was doing it very respectfully. Not like the rude guards who have tried to pull you into a darker corner. Ever since you've hated being touched. But Sabo didn't inspire any fears, and you felt protected.

"Yes, I'm sure," you said.

"Then I'll take my hands off," Sabo smiled softly and did it. The warmth of his hands, even through gloves, remained on your waist. A slight regret arose in you. He took a step back.

The fog began to clear, and the sun shone on his blonde head. But now, close up, you understood that the glow of his hair wasn't exactly golden. Sparkles of fire seemed to lurk in his soft curls, and so his eyes. It turned out that his bright irises weren't entirely azure. Red flecks intertwined with a piercing blue, and around the inky black pupils were thin rings of pure fire. In front of you stood the Fire Witcher himself.

You looked at him in silence, and he stood calmly in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. You knew the silence was getting long and awkward and started to pull at your sleeve. You should have said something but didn't have any ideas.

"Can I give you a hug?" you asked.

Sabo seemed a little surprised at first and then narrowed his eyes cunningly. "So you were the one who asked the boys about me?" The quiet crackle in his voice turned cheerful. But even this light flirtation didn't cross any boundaries.

"Yes, this is me," you whispered. Is there anything left of your beauty? You tried to look away, realizing that after a decade of slavery, it was hardly possible.

Sabo somehow read your thoughts in your confused face and said encouragingly: "Don't doubt, you're wonderful. I can see that with my eyes." Then he smiled almost innocently, but the twinkle in his eyes was playful again. "By the way, are you a witch, aren't you? I was once told that only witches have such shiny dark hair and large greenish eyes."

It was like two candles were burning in the depths of his gaze. Big, unexpected tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. The long lashes quickly stuck together. His slyness turned to concern. Before he could say anything, you put your arms around him and pressed your face against his chest. Sabo was surprised again but gently put his arm around your waist.

And you thought you were home now.

[cowboycostume]

Also, re: Cas growing a human soul

Okay, so realistically, there is no precedent for angels with souls, right? Nephilim are a whole different bag because they are an intentional hybrid. But angels? Angels don't have souls. Angels follow orders, they have no feelings, none of the messy interconnected bullshit that get humanity (and the Winchesters) in so much trouble. But Cas. Cas has feelings. Cas resists the programming that keeps the other angels in line. Why? Because love gave Cas the starter recipe for a human soul.

Cas loves Dean from the moment Dean chooses the lives of a town over the breaking of a seal. He doesn't know it yet, the same way apple seeds don't know they'll become fruit bearing trees, but he does. Somewhere along the line (in my head this is in the midst of s5, but you do you, reader) Cas realizes this, and he tries to act on it in the best way he knows how, by being useful, by protecting, by sacrificing everything he has. (Sound familiar?) And he's all alone in there, room for one in the Jimmy Novak Hotel. Don't get me wrong, it's still the metaphysical equivalent of trying to fit a car in an Easter egg, but there is so much more space than there was when he and Jimmy were sharing. There's a space that's prime and ready for a soul.

So those seeds grow. the first few shoots are undernourished and diseased, quick to wither in the light of Heaven. Here, we get Godstiel, here we get you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you. Cas, feeling love for the first time, really feeling it, only knows how to relate it to the love he was taught to feel for God. Love that is awe-inspiring and terrifying and irresistible. Love that possesses, but doesn't hold.

The next batch that poke through are nurtured, by a meek woman named Daphne, for months. Emmanuel is soft spoken and kind because he learned to be. He is helping because he can, and he is asking no recompense. Daphne, for all that she was straight up insane for it, probably did love Cas in her own way. In that everyday way that you love someone. The I'll-be-here-tomorrow kind of love that is easy to feel because it is a background hum in your life. And those next sprouts are a goodly little lot. Not robust, they've grown half in the shade. There is no blight on them and they are fertilized by the experience of taking on Sam's madness. This is crucial to the process, to adding the tragedy of humanity to the mix.

The saplings grow in Purgatory. They are undernourished, but not under nurtured (he hears the prayers, he hears them every night, promises that Dean is coming, that Dean is going to find him, to save him, that he is not forgotten). They bear fruit. They make it possible for Cas to resist the wills of Heaven and throw off the shackles of the narrative.

It's crucial that this is when Cas becomes human. There is no longer the suffocating presence of grace. They grow, they spread, they are nourished by the acts of human kindness that Cas is shown, nourished by the simple act of being. (Happiness is in the being, remember, and Cas is being human, to the fullest extent he is capable of). And then Dean comes back. Dean, who has always been a shining beacon in Cas' life, is back for this short visit. And it ignites something in Cas. The desire to do more. To help fix what he feels responsible for, what his brethren are holding him as responsible for. Atonement is a human thing, because angels don't remember if they have something worth atoning for, if they can even feel guilt at all (which it doesn't seem like they are inclined to).

Cas does get his grace back, but he is now so markedly different from the other angels, and don't you think they can see it? The tree of humanity that has grown in him, that is growing in him? He gives up an army, gives up his power because he can't bear to lose Dean, to lose love, to lose the tether to the humanity that started this change in him.

Then along comes Jack. Parenthood is something that angels don't experience either. True familial love is as fresh a source as any out there, and in learning to be a father, Cas' soul is the most nourished it has ever been. It grows, but at a cost. Cas' grace is dwindling, the space it used to occupy being more and more encroached upon.

Love starts the process and accepting it solidifies it, but to have it? for it to be affirmed? That might just finalize it. Might just be enough to cheat the deal. Love would be what set Cas free, not only of the narrative, but of the axe hanging over his head.

[windywooshes]

Douma x (F)Reader

~*:beloved short cut guide:*~

(Y/N): Name

(L/N): Last name

(H/C): Hair color [i.e. brunette, blonde, etc ]

(E/C): Eye color

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

A rainbow. That was the first thought which crossed her mind when she peeked between the bodies of her parents and the two cult leaders.

Behind the excited chattering, was a boy, no older her age. He had silver hair and the most sparkly eyes the little girl ever saw in her young life. The boy himself was skimming the room, borred, until he locked eyes with the curious child. (Y/N) quickly hid behind her mother's legs with a slight blush covering her cheeks, when he smiled warmly over to her, waving his tiny hand as a gesture of welcome.

It seemed that the older female felt the curiousity of the (H/C) which was circling around her like a swarm of beez. Buzzing and summing. What would his name be ? Is he another kid whose parents joined ? Will he be her friend ?

Most questions were answered when she and her parents were led into the room. She was confused as to why her mother and father were bowing down deeply infront of the child. Tearing up, she was forced down for a bow as well. Her head colliding with the hard tatami matt, creating a blue spot the next day, probably. The boy's smile didn't vanish.

„Welcome to the cult of entire happiness~. May your stay bring joy and peace into your life. You may raise your head now.“

„Oh thank you, our beloved leader.“

(Y/N) raised both of her eyebrows in confusion. Leader ? Is she a leader as well ? There is no significant difference between the boy and her, after all. If this boy could bring happiness to her parents...would she be able to as well ?

She silently gasped. The girl would definitely make sure to ask the silverette how to do that. Life seemed to be very gloomy, whenever she was home alone with her elders. Loud arguments and ugly fights painted the nights in a muted color. How she longed for those old colorful days, where her father would embrace her mother tightly. Or the summer days where she was helping her mother with the laundry, laughing and enjoying the surring melody of the cicadas.

When the family exited the ceremony room, they were invited for tea to discuss the other details together. (Y/N) wouldn't stop thinking about the boy. Thanks to the mother of the leader, she was allowed to skim through the palace by her own. You wouldn't need so say that twice to her, as she immediately dashed her way out of the room.

To her disadvantage, the mansion felt like a labyrinth. Crossing many different rooms and areas but not the one she wished for. She sinked down on the wooden floor. Sniffles already escaping her nose.

(Y/N) was lost. But before she could even break out into tears, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she found the little boy from before. Her face lighted up on the spot as she made her way up to her legs again.

„Are you okay ? Where are your parents ?“

His voice sounded so soft, yet the words felt hollow. On a closer look, she noticed the colorful orbs to be dull. Without any emotion or life in them. How come such beautiful eyes, looked so cold ?

Douma shifted his head to the side. Was the girl deaf ? Could she maybe not speak ? Before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his hand as the girl suddenly grabbed it with both of her own. She was piercing holes into him. That was something he never had happen to him before. What a bold child, she was.

„Please teach me how I can give Mama and Papa happiness !“

Her voice sounded determined. Almost as if she blurted out a promise, she swore to fullfill and he was the only key which would lead to it.

Douma's eyes furrowed upwards. How should he confess to her that happiness is a fraud ? That there is no way to bring or become happy ? That it was all just a ghost of sensation inside someone's mind ? He placed his free hand ontop of one of hers, smiling again.

„I believe that you should find it yourself, as I am only a messenger between god and the humans.“

He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth he believed in. She seemed to be too pure and innocent to be painted in muddy hues by this harsh reality. The mansion was a place of peace. Of illusions. It was not his job to destroy them. Especially for one of hid future followers.

He watched her eyes drifting off from his own, onto the floor. Her eyebrows knitted together. For a moment Douma expected her to be disappointed but he was met with an excited expression instead. Her lips forming into a toothy grin.

„Right ! I think I can do it even without god's help !“

He was caught off guard for a moment. All the time he was seated on the throne, he only saw people bowing down to him. Praying. Sending messages to god for help, instead of searching for solutions for their problems on their own. Suddenly his heartbeat quickened.

„Oh ! I'm (L/N) (Y/N) ! But please just call me (Y/N) ! We should play a lot when you can~“

Her smile was as bright as the sun. Genuine warmth which he hasn't felt in a while.

„Please call me Douma. It's a pleasure to meet a new follower~“

Before the two of them could chat any further, a female voice could be heard, calling out the name of the (H/C).

„I think you need to leave already. I hope we will meet again.“

With that, Douma disappeared inside the room next to them. Just in time before (Y/N)'s mother arrived to take her daughter to the exit of the mansion.

Maybe, they could become friends after all.

Months passed with her family visiting the cult on a regular basis once a week. Sadly the girl couldn't make much progress with their friendship since Douma was only seen durring the ceremonies or private prayer appointments. It was a very frustrating visit every week but the girl told herself to keep trying.

She found a chance to approach him after hearing about the latest tragedy. Douma's father was found murdered by his wife while she herself took her own life by poisoning herself.

(Y/N) felt sad for the young boy. How would he live without his parents ? How can he live day by day, knowing about such a horrible event in his own home ? After all it seemed to happen inside of his ceremony room too.

She carefully peeked inside of the four walls, hoping not to interrupt him in one of his cleansing ceremonies. He was lying on his pillow, eyes closed. It seemed as if he was fast asleep from all the stress and preasure. Suprisingly, the room didn't contain any sight or smell of the blood bath.

Carefully the (H/C) girl, sneaked in her way infront of the pillow and starred down at the child with her big (E/C) orbs. It didn't take long for Douma to open his own, to gaze right back at the owner of the second pair.

„Do you wish for an audience ? I can squeeze in some extra time for you.“ he smiled brightly but it felt so hollow and cold as always.

Inching her way closer to the male, she carefully glanced around the room, making sure that no adults were close who could scold her for her actions.

The said boy just looked at her, confused by her behaviour but not questioning it any further until he felt small arms wrap around his body and the warmth against him. The colorful orbs blinked, not sure what to do or say in such a situation. It felt warm. It felt save. His chest tightened for a bit, heart beating louder. Something was dwelling up inside of him but he couldn't really catch this intruder. It was unknown for him. It felt just like the first interaction they shared.

Hearing sniffles, his bushy eyebrows arched up. Was she crying on his behalf ? Because of the latest events ? Douma couldn't even understand why she would make herself sad because of something what happened to him. It shouldn't matter to her. It was his life, his tragedy to bear, not hers.

„I'll make sure to come every day and play with you ! Pinky promise !“

Holding out her tiny finger infront of him, after leaving the hug, (Y/N) had a stern yet soft look on her face. The boy shouldn't feel lonely all by himself. She'll make sure to bring some fun and adventure into his life ! Only because he brings happiness doesn't mean that he can't have some of it as well, right ?

Douma on the other hand was just perplexed and totally unsure as to what to do now. He just ended up copying her and held out his own pinky infront of her. As quick as he could blink, she had both of their fingers wrapped up together and gave it one nice shake before letting go. Giving him a bright toothy smile, before waving her hand to say goodbye.

„I'll be back tomorrow !“

With that, the silver haired male was left alone in the room, still holding his pinky up, confused and unsure as to what just happened.

And as tomorrow came, (Y/N) dashed along with it. Somehow both kids managed to sneak out of the stuffy ceremony room into the big garden which was located in the middle of the temple. With paper squares in one hand and entwined fingers in the other, the (H/C) made her way over to the pond with the boy.

„(L/N)-san...I believe we are not allowed to trespass into the garden.“

Actually, Douma couldn't care less about the rules as he was the center of attention in the cult but he just tried to find a way to get back inside, since the bright sun burnt down on them, as it was already the middle of summer.

„Aw...you are no fun, Douma-chan !“ she puffed her cheeks out with her eyebrows knitted together but eased up once she handed him some square papers.

Seating herself on the stoned pavement, she started to fold and bend one of the thin sheets and managed to create a decent looking lotus flower.

„Let's decorate the pond a bit. It looks so bland and the koi seem to like the flowers too !“

Glancing into the reflecting water, he watched as two kois swam underneath the freshly folded lotus, trying to hide from the shining orb in the sky by swimming in the shadow of the paper figure.

Douma looked over to the side, catching the eyes of the girl and smiled a bit. He gently placed his hat down from his head and sat himself close to his companion. Watching her tiny hands gliding over the paper with each new fold. Copying her movements calmly, as if he had done this millions of times before. The girl glimpered her eyes in amazement.

„Woah ! It looks so pretty ! I'm sure the fishes will be happy about it !“

Her smile was just as bright as the afternoon sun, watching happily when he placed the flower gently into the water with a smile gracing his own lips.

Douma caught himself gazing at (Y/N) with his own amazement and curiosity. His chest was fluttering again but he didn't seem to mind it as much as yesterday. He just took her hand in his tiny one and smiled brightly.

„Let's make this pond beautiful together !“

The (H/C)'s face lighted up with his promise. Nodding her head in excitement, she squeezed his hand gently before continuing to fold new flowers to place into the liquid.

Years passed and the garden grew, along with the two kids. The new flora and fauna decorating the center of the mansion proudly.

Both , (Y/N) and Douma continued to care for it and the koi. Meeting up every day just for a bit tranquillity from the cult. The silverette was dreading for the small amount of time he could spend with the girl. After all those years, he grew to enjoy her company and her refreshing nature. Just like a fresh cube of ice durring a hot summer day, she was cooling him off and bringing him the relaxation he secretly hoped for since his early childhood days.

Douma was currently seated on the wooden floor which connected the garden and the house with each other. Gracefully folding a lotus flower from a peachy pink colored origami paper. Even though they planted real lotus in the pond, he still found himself crafting them whenever he was waiting for the (H/C).

Quick taps on the floor brought him out of his daydreaming. He knew exactly who they belonged to as he heard the same rythm for such a long period already. A smile waved upon his face when he caught the (E/Y) orbs and the slightly messy (H/C) locks of (Y/N).

„I told you that you don't need to run~ you might slip and hurt yourself as you did that time...“

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows together, cheeks tinting pink. That time, she was running through the hallways to find the devil himself. Well, the females search was successful. She managed to slip and bump right into him, sending them both onto the hard wooden floor, earning an earful afterwards from the cult followers who witnessed the whole fiasco.

„I've been more careful since then though !“

The male laughed at her reaction. It was always interesting to watch her flustered face and her movements along with it. Patting the spot next to him, he invited her over to enjoy the scenery of the garden and the cold breeze of the wind. She quickly sat down, back facing him as he took out a comb from one of his pockets.

It became a daily ritual for him to brush her hair after she arrived, since it always looked all over the place from her running. A time where both of them could have their peace from the loud city or from the other members. A small moment of recharging.

(Y/N) started to humm a small melody while she patiently sat besides the cult leader, while the man himself couldn't help but smile slightly. Admiring the soft touch of her hair against his fingers. He carefully inched closer to her neck and gave it a quick kiss, before leaning back again once he heard her shriek of surprise. Holding up his hands in defence, he couldn't hold back his chuckles at the entertaining ruckus she gives him. He earned some gentle smacks with the fan which the girl brought along with her. Cheeks puffed out and brught red.

Once she stopped she sighed and put her hands down on her lap, looking at the leaves which were swaying with the light wind. Douma followed her gaze but caught himself stealing some looks at the female next to him intead. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her against his chest. Surprisingly enough, he was not poked and shoved back. Feeling his company ease up against him.

.

.

.

„You should move into the mansion.“

„Huh ?“

„You wouldn't need to run here. We could enjoy the view even at night! It looks beautiful with the fireflies. I could comb your hair everyday. We could fold other paper figures~“

„You know that I can't do that...because-„

„Because of your sick mother, I know...“

Douma sighed and rubbed his temple. For a while now, you have been taking care of your ill mother since your father passed away. He knew your hardships and saw your bruised hands and legs from carrying the heavy vegetables everyday to sell them on the market. Just so you could earn some more yen to get both of you through life. And as disgusting and inhumane it sounded, he was wishing for your mother to finally pass away and free you from your slavery. He could offer you more. Anything you would wish for, it would be there in mere seconds. Yet you declined all of his offers up until now. Refusing to live life easy.

It made him frustrated but he respected your decision. Honestly, he couldn't care less as to what you make out of your life...right ? It should be like that but he still seems to grow annoyed by the constant rejection. Don't humans usually go for the easiest way ? Why wouldn't you do the same. Why were you so stubborn. A contrast to his usual followers.

„As you wish, my lotus~“

She sighed before poking him in the side, earning no reaction whatsoever.

„Here, I made this fan for you since you seem to hate the heat so much.“

Pulling away from the embrace, (Y/N) pulled out a beautiful golden fan.

„For our wonder and blessing, Douma-sama~“ copying one of the desperate cult members voice, she held out the item and bowed down deeply.

Douma chuckled and gently picked up the fan, answering in a mocking royal voice.

„I am grateful for your generous offering, my lost lamb. May you find happiness~ you may raise your head now.“

Placing a hand ontop of her head, he could feel the shaking of her body which came from the laughter she tried to hold back.

The wind chimes ringed with the gentle breeze which was traveling through the garden and another day ended with (Y/N) heading back home.

The next day, Douma was surprised to be alone in the garden. As well as the following. And the other.

2 weeks passed and he hasn't heard anything of (Y/N). But when he did, it was not a pretty sight for him to see. Her hands and cheek were swollen with bruises, she was dirty, her once beautiful (H/C) locks looked like a total mess.

Apparently his wish became true.

After (Y/N) arrived at home that night, she was met with the terrible fate of discovering her mother brutally murdered. It was a horrific sight. To her dismay, she met face to face with the attacker and almost got killed herself. Almost. If it wouldn't have been to the swordsman who beheaded the monster inches away from of her face.

The shock from losing her last family member and for almost having her life pulled away from her grasp, let her fall into sadness and fear. She couldn't move or eat for days. This also meant that she couldn't pay for her necessities in time, bringin the owner of the fields and house, home to her and beating her for the refusal of work over the time span. Taking away all left over possessions she was left with. Without a roof over her head or a job to feed her, she didn't know where to go or what to do. Once she snapped out of her trance, she found herself infront of the gates of the cult mansion and broke down into tears when she was met with the face of Douma.

The members helped her clean up and cutting her hair. Sadly it was so messed and clogged up that brushing wouldn't help. Which ended up with her hair becoming a bon cut. The bruises were bandaged and taken care of, in hopes that they won't leave permanent marks on her skin.

Once night arrived, (Y/N) made her way silently to the garden. Plopping down on the spot she usually sat on with the cult leader. Gazing at the small glowing dots which danced through the petals and leaves.

„It really does look beautiful...“ she whispered, not sensing the presence of Douma behind her.

He sat down next to her and looked at her face. It felt empty. Her sparkling eyes completely dull. Her voice drained of joy. Raising up his hand to touch her head, the impact of his touch resulted in a flinch and the girl backing away from him a bit.

„A-ah, I apologize...I was in thoughts...“

She tried to crank up a smile but it looked horrible. It felt as if everything bright and beautiful was taken away from him the second he saw her today. Attempting to show some kind of comfort he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. Careful not to put pressure on the wounds and blue spots on her flesh.

„You will be well here...I will give you anything you want or need. You won't face any more fear. You will be safe. I will make sure of it.“

He felt her shaking, not from laughter this time though. Her sobs filling the silence of the safe haven they built up together. A beautiful summer night, yet it was so ugly.

The following weeks, Douma tried to fulfill any wish the female had. He would make his followers bring her the sweetest treats, the most beautiful kimono to wear, bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers to decorate her room. To his frustration, nothing seemed to bring the smile back he was always curious about. The spark which brought him calm. Nothing of it surfaced, remaining shut inside of the shell which created them.

His actions seemed to have brought the dismay of his followers as well. Many females and males complained about his bias towards the (H/C) girl. He brushed them off, assuring them that he was just trying his best to recreate the happiness which the girl lost. But it didn't seem to work. Soon enough, certain members started to push her around, ignoring her or talking behind her back. Spreading rumours and untasteful remarks.

It seemed that it affected the male more than her as she was only sitting outside the garden, watching the scenery with an empty stare.

As days went on, (Y/N) seemed to become ill. Becoming weaker and weaker with every sunrise which followed. Soon, she was not being found outside but laying inside her room with the shoji door open, to bring some fresh summer wind into the square which caged her in.

The silverette made sure to visit her with each day. Bringing her the nutrients she needed along with the medicine which was prepared by his cult members.

„Douma...I'm grateful for the time we spent. Even though my life was not painted in colors...but whenever I saw you and spent time in the garden, it was filled up with them and brought me peace.“

Before he could respond, he was cut off by the female once again.

„I am aware that you cannot feel as I do. Or see as I do. Hate and greed, happiness and love. Those are emotions you do not possess. Maybe you never did. But let me confess you my love, at least now before I pass...“

Her voice was raspy and very quiet. If he didn't lean in closer to her, he would have barely caught what she tried to tell him.

(Y/N) proped herself up shakily, Douma helping her up as good as he could since he was clearly unsure how he could aid her. Once she somewhat sat up, she leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She was aware of his lack of emotions. Even from the early childhood days, yet she still grew to love him. No matter how empty and cold he was.

Pressing her soft lips against his cheek, she gave him a small peck before succumbing back into his arms.

Her last breaths were decorated with a genuine last smile she gifted the male, on his way through life without her. A talisman.

He burried her in the garden, next to the pond. Where she would remain one of his beloved lotus flowers. She was the reason why he grew to like them. And after the harsh winter and the visit of Kibutsuji, they were the only flowers which survived and stayed in the garden with him through all these years. The first and last memory of his humanity for a good while.

So fleeting. Like a rainbow after a summer rain.

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This was one of the two requests I received ! The next one will be another Zenitsu x Reader :) thank you for the love !