#ignite. legends never die. gods

[fxllingout]

rise and warriors best worlds mvs no contest

[moonlight-prose]

pretty please may i request ❛i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.❜ from the &. 𝐟. 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. prompt list with loki? clawing at the walls tysm 🌷

LOVE IS A SMOKE MADE WITH A FUME OF SIGHS

a/n: i haven't written anything this angsty is so long and it felt good to finally churn out that type of fic. i miss breaking these character's hearts. so babes i hope you know that i went so fucking pretentious with this one it actually made me pick up shakespeare just to title it. (yes it's from romeo and juliet which is ironic cause it's a love between a god and a human). but anyways i hope you enjoy! and of course the gif is crimson peak. it matched the vibe.

summary: you were never meant to be apart of their world, of his home. you were a mortal amongst gods and the time for your parting had finally come.

OR the heartbreak of losing someone who is half your soul.

word count: 2k

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, heartbreak, overly pretentious prose about love and pain, mention of death, waxing poetically about losing love, not edited because we live and die by the fucking pen.

The tragedy of love has always been steeped in irony to you. After all, there was something of hilarity bound between the emotions that connected two people so deeply they’d go to war for it. Or perhaps die for it. Maybe this belief came from never understanding it—never experiencing it for yourself. But how were you supposed to know what it looked like? What it felt like, when you had no notion of it even existing in the first place.

Maybe it was a well thought out joke that pulled people in, capturing them in the depths of something so mysterious. You understood heartbreak. Knew the depravity that came from having something ripped from you without a notion of consequence. But love…that remained as mythical to you as Lancelot and Guinevere.

You could feel his eyes on you the longer you stood there, fiddling with the drink in your hand. It wasn’t often that an Asgardian invited a human to visit their land and it was a rarity when it happened with a prince. But that’s where you wound up. Standing amidst legends and myths wanting to flee at a moment's notice. And he watched in earnest, with the hope that you would turn to catch his gaze.

“Excuse me,” you said with a smile to the man beside you who had been talking about the nonsense of science for thirty minutes.

Whether or not he actually believed the words he said became an afterthought. You couldn’t stand there and pretend any longer. You didn’t want to.

Music filled the surrounding space, drowning you in the joyous leisure of having nothing to worry about. What could possibly trouble such powerful beings? Where you were nothing but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. Something trivial that would one day pass and be extinguished just as fast as you were ignited.

You saw the way they viewed you the second you crossed the threshold of the hall. How they seemed to pity you. They would go on. They would continue to carve their names in the history of the universe and you would be but a fleeting memory in their minds. The most you could hope for was to place a smile on their face for a moment before you were gone entirely.

People danced wherever you went, others laughed and boasted about their triumphs. And you could feel the air begin to press out of your lungs. As if they were slowly stripping you of everything that made your body work. You gasped, pushing open a door that led to the courtyard in the hopes that you’d make it to a secluded area before you broke down entirely.

Flames were lit to preserve the warmth. They casted a glow along the architecture of the stone walls—trees placed perfectly along the outskirts. The temptation to hide away here lingered in your chest, but you could practically feel the seconds tick by. You only had a limited amount of time before people made their way outside to view the night sky.

Any other night this would be the most romantic setting to find yourself in. Tonight however you were plagued by a pain that refused to fade.

You wiped roughly at the tears that began to fall as footsteps echoed behind you. It seemed that your time was running out faster than you expected and you’d be caught in the open with no explanation to why you were crying. Maybe if you ran you wouldn't have to deal with the questions. But then the warm glow of the fire flickered an emerald green, sparks flying into the air and you felt the energy around you shift.

“I caught you leaving.”

The smile was prominent in his tone—light enough to presume he didn’t know why you were here. Yet no matter how much he tried to conceal his emotions…you could always read him like an open book. A fact he loathed about you.

“I needed air,” you replied, clasping your hands together.

“You will find plenty out here.” Another step echoed like a shot ringing through the air and suddenly he was pressing a hand to your shoulder. The cold sensation of his touch rippled through you. It flooded your senses with more than you could process at this time.

With a sharp gasp, you pulled away. “Don’t.”

“I’m not sure I understand—”

“Loki,” you sighed, finally giving in. With another breath, you turned to face him—the glimmer of tears now unmistakable in your eyes. “What am I doing here?”

You could see the mistake the second the words left your mouth to hang in the air between you. As if this was the final reckoning of something so delicate. The question had been building for days since he brought you with him. Something to explain that maybe…this wasn’t just a frivolous one time fling that he’d forget about soon after you returned home. But nothing ever came. It seemed he was more interested in showing you off to everyone else, rather than letting you in.

“You’re here for dinner of course.” He smiled, offered you his hand, and faltered when you didn’t take it. When you stood where you were with a somber look in your eyes.

The green color flared to life beside you again, reflecting his emotions and finally giving you an insight into his mind. But it wasn’t enough.

You wanted to know how he felt. What was he too scared to tell anyone? Perhaps he might let you in on it. But Loki had always been closed off even to those he cared about and you didn’t want to be simply another person he tried to love. You needed more than empty words and flowery promises. As you watched him come up with something to say you could see it. He knew that this wasn’t enough; that you wouldn’t be wooed by parties you had no place in with people you held no interest for.

“I think it’s time for me to go home.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from starting up again.

“My darling—”

“I don’t belong here Loki,” you admitted. “Everyone in there can see that I am not one of you.”

His gaze turned sharp. “One of us?”

“You know what I mean. I’m not a god.” You stood a bit straighter as if facing the oncoming battle.

“So you think because you aren’t Asgardian that we will think less of you? That I would…” He snapped his mouth shut, eyes darker than you were used to seeing them.

“No!”

“Don’t believe for a second that I brought you here under false pretenses—”

“Then why did you bring me?” you exclaimed. “Because it certainly doesn’t feel like you actually want me here. You left me alone in there! As if I was meant to be shown off for some Asgardian amusement.”

He stepped forward, crowding into your space and like the stubborn human you were…you stood your ground. His lips quirked up slightly, admiration flaring in his eyes before that too was stolen away.

“You forget. I am not Asgardian.”

You scoffed, rising up to meet him—your nose brushing so close to his that you could feel his breath against your face. “That is not who I saw in there.”

His eyes dropped to your lips. The darkness from before returning with a vigor that stole your breath away. No matter how much you wanted to remain upset, you couldn’t deny the pull that existed between you. The longing you felt in your heart. Loki released a shuddered breath as his eyes dragged back to yours and something raw clicked into place.

Cupping your cheek, he dragged you forward until his lips met yours. Loki always kissed you as if this was his last time, as if he would never know the sweet taste of oxygen without you. You were the soothing balm against his wounds that refused to close. A piece of serenity in a place that bred nothing but chaos. He dragged you closer, no longer hesitant to lick into your mouth and drag out a moan, because what else did he have to lose?

You knew the malice that existed in him—had seen it first hand. Yet even that wasn’t enough to turn you away from this.

To make you flee from the man who viewed himself as a monster.

“Loki,” you sighed, fingers digging into the leather beneath his armor. It was as soft as his touch, the scent intoxicating you the longer you stood there.

“Don’t…” He could feel the hesitation in your kiss. The uncertainty in your touch.

You still remained unsure of what he wanted from you; what this actually meant to him. And even though he wanted to proclaim it loud enough for you to hear, he knew that you’d never truly understand the depths of his emotions. Loki had always believed he would remain alone in his life. A lost soul doomed to wander the universe for all eternity, but when he met you he hoped that for a moment…he would finally feel the warmth of the sun against his skin once more.

He hoped he would feel alive again.

“You are…” Warm tears fell against your cheeks and he wiped them away gently. “You’re the one I want to be with. The one I choose.” You cupped his hand in yours, desperate to keep his touch against your skin. “But I am not immortal.”

“We gods die too.”

You smiled. “Not in the way humans do.”

Silence washed over the both of you. A solemn understanding that began to infiltrate even his mind. And thus was the irony of love. Two souls so tragically different that even death would keep you apart until the very end of time. You almost laughed, but knew that the situation would only be ruined by it.

“I need to go home where I belong.”

“You belong—”

“I don’t belong with gods Loki. I never have. And no matter how much you want that to change it can’t.”

Within seconds you watched his walls begin to close up again, pulling back any sense of emotion he once showed. Until you were right back where you started. Alone in the middle of a world that didn’t deem you worthy to stand on it. You were the outsider looking in. A mortal who got a chance to dine with the gods of old and briefly pretend you were one of them.

“So you choose them.”

An ache sprouted in your chest, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers. Until you swore you couldn’t breathe. A necessary evil to stave off the heartbreak of what would eventually come down the road.

“My love…”

He pulled away, standing stiff and face void of any emotion. “That word doesn’t belong to me. Not anymore.” Turning slightly, he roughly wiped at his cheek to hide the tears. Meanwhile you allowed them to fall freely. “I once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.”

With a final look—eyes filled with a plea to say something—he relented. He nodded his head, took in a large breath, and turned back towards the steps. Once again leaving you behind as he returned to a world you’d never fully understand. You watched him go, a sob wracking your body as he took with him a love that only came around once in a lifetime. As he took part of your soul.

The flames returned to their natural orange glow, once again emitting a warmth that should have flooded your body. But all you felt was the cold touch of a lover lost to you for good.

[tortoisesshells]

top five doomed mariners go

in order not of significance, but of encounter:

(1) William Bush - the original Doomed Mariner, my copy of Lord Hornblower is still held together with duct tape from chucking the book across the room when I realized Forester was not going to pull a "if there's no body he's not dead" - rather, "if there's no body, it's because he was too close to the ignition point." A character whose defining trait is his devotion is actually something that can be so personal.

(2) James Norrington - the man, the myth, the legend. clearly takes up too much brain space for a [checking notes for comedic effect] antagonist secondary character from a twenty-year-old theme park ride movie. Hard to say at which point it became clear he'd never survive, but there's definitely a point at which he clearly thinks he's survived too long for anyone's good, least of all his own.

(3) Mr. Starbuck

“On this level, Ahab’s hammock swings within; his head this way. A touch, and Starbuck may survive to hug his wife and child again.—Oh Mary! Mary!—boy! boy! boy!—But if I wake thee not to death, old man, who can tell to what unsounded deeps Starbuck’s body this day week may sink, with all the crew! Great God, where art Thou? Shall I? shall I?—The wind has gone down and shifted, sir; the fore and main topsails are reefed and set; she heads her course.” “Stern all! Oh Moby Dick, I clutch thy heart at last!” Such were the sounds that now came hurtling from out the old man’s tormented sleep, as if Starbuck’s voice had caused the long dumb dream to speak. The yet levelled musket shook like a drunkard’s arm against the panel; Starbuck seemed wrestling with an angel; but turning from the door, he placed the death-tube in its rack, and left the place. (123: The Musket)

(4) Eyk Larsen - doomed by Netflix more than his own foibles, though that's not for lack of trying on his foibles' part. Even the men on his crew that like him are waiting for him to snap under the strain of his bereavement, alcoholism, and the demands of the new shipping company's changes (and the sudden appearance/disappearance of a ghost ship. and inexplicable deaths. and seeing things. and and and). Doesn't make it three whole scenes before staring moodily into the deeps of the Atlantic, musing on the impossibility of knowing what lives on the floor thousands of feet below. Kind of deserved that mutiny. Didn't exactly die in 1899, but. Well. Like his relationship with Maura, it was complicated.

(5) Bill Malloy - He never learned how to swim, he put together The Big Secret about the manslaughter trial quicker than any other uninvolved character, he's been in love with and trailing a respectful step behind Liz Collins Stoddard for 20+ years to no avail (but, hey, Carolyn says he's as good as her father, which?), and he's not the most helpful ghost but he is having a little too much fun getting revenge for his murder - did we ever hear him laugh when he was alive? I suppose we have to subtract some points for him never spending any time on a boat within the scope of the narrative, but then, he IS trying to go back to his job on the boats - and no one else on this list sings "What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor?". I'm pretty sure the narrative is through with him now, alas. He'll always be famous to me.

[benevolentcalamity]

As Close As I May Be

A torrent of agony, with his heart caught in the middle. No hope of less pain, nor a flicker of hope for rest. Karmic debt lashes with the ferocity of a thousand whips, only to sometimes cast the image of all the evil he’d slain before taking turns beating him in the name of their lost mortality. It’s a neverending cycle, with the day of retribution decades, centuries, perhaps even eons beyond his reach.

Behold, the Conqueror of Demons, the Vigilant Yaksha - the last of his brotherhood. In his sleep he knows no sweet dream, for it is eclipsed by a bottomless darkness, joy and laughter a lifetime away.

By the grace of the Geo Archon Rex Lapis is it so that a life of darkness and corruption joins the nightmarish mist. Now, legends say, the Conqueror of Demons leaps across the rooftops when night falls, driving off monsters and invaders that would be to harm Liyue. Such is the duty-bound honor of the adepti, burning away strife and letting hope ignite.

However, stories change, legends die, and sometimes endings aren’t as they should be written. Such is the case with the Conqueror of Demons, purging evil as he does now that Rex Lapis has passed away and Liyue begins a new era without a god. For many it’s akin to the loss of a caring father - a doting grandfather, even, for where Rex Lapis is said to be kind he is also shown in stories to be harsh or strict. But it is doubtless that he cared for and loved his people.

Many of the adepti have gone, with rumors of the Guili Assembly remaining somewhere in the blessed Jueyun Karst. Not to say anyone dares go and check, lest they disrupt the harrowed ground and bring about their own punishment.

And so he rests, overlooking the quiet village of Qingce. With his spear planted loyally in the ground his amber gaze flickers between each house, wandering outwards more often lest the Fatui decide to stir up trouble from afar, or a tribe of hilichurls looking to raid the place. None of this happens in the unmeasured time he spends surveying the terrain. It’s simply a moment of respite, truly, before he has to run elsewhere to ensure Liyue is safe in each corner.

His senses flare and he’s on his feet with spear in his fist in minutes as a shrill cry suddenly erupts from one of the houses. As a flash of lightning he is there, standing by an open window. The wetland smell along the spice of the jueyun chilis drifts through the curtains, and only for a moment is he lost in a room full of happy drawings, wooden toys, and tapestries portraying childhood fairytales and cute animals.

His eyes fall, and there’s the source of the crying.

Restless, a baby, tiny and frail, squirms in the swaddling clothes, gummy mouth wide open in cries. For a moment he huffs, realizing this was a fool’s errand of some kind and the parents will awake to calm it in a moment. But, once he even thinks of simply flitting off elsewhere, the child’s eyes open. Frozen like a qilin in lanternlight he watches as the baby’s cries pause, its expression turning to curiosity as it stares at him through tears.

As though it can understand he holds a finger to his lips. “Shh...”

It’s odd, especially to him, that this child isn’t screaming again. He’s never been used to children not being terrified of him, be that the result of wives’ tales or simply the natural instinct to run away from scary-looking things. Though his intent is never to bring children harm he has resigned himself to simply watching them play when evil is dispersed in the few moments of rest he has.

Cooing, the child wiggles a bit, the weak binding on the clothes unraveling to where one small arm emerges. Clenching and unclenching its little fist it reaches for him, and for a moment he’s conflicted.

This is a rare opportunity, but should he, a being steeped in sin and rotten to the core, have the privilege, much less the possibility, of...? Well, who is he, also, to disappoint a curious child?

A silent but deep breath, and his one hand slowly begins to reach, trembling with uncertainty. Before long his fingers are met halfway and caught in its fist. Barely the size of an under-ripe sunsettia it holds an oddly strong grip. He watches with widened eyes as the child manages to bring out the other hand and play with his fingers. Snorting lightly, the very softest of smiles touches his lips as the child coos, allowing it to pull the tip of his pointer in its mouth.

This must be what it’s like, to make a child happy instead of cause it to run in fear. It’s... a beautiful feeling, far from deserved, but he’ll allow himself so long as no one else is looking.

Carefully, his other hand, spear dispersed for now, reaches to the cradle, gingerly beginning to rock it. Happily, the baby ceases suckling on his fingers, allowing that hand to tuck its arms back into the swaddle, messily tucking it snug as a bug in a rug.

A gummy smile and a tired coo, and just like that the child drifts back into sleep. Softly he pats the chubby little cheek, silently drawing away from the window. The night brings a chill, and his respite is about over now. It is time, once more, to hunt demons.

When the morning comes, a grandmother tells the coming merchant how she’d woken up for some tea, and bore witness to the Conqueror of Demons himself, playing with the newlyweds’ newborn baby in the moonlight.

[hannie-dul-set]

THE PUHON PLAYLIST.

— twenty three hearts. twenty three songs. twenty three stories.

SUMMARY | a collection of fics for all members of nct2020! all the fics will be centered around ben&ben songs, but even if you don’t know them, you can still read! the lengths may vary, and this collection is gonna be on shuffle meaning there is no order for the updates HDJFH and there’s also no order for you to read hehe i’ll be providing translations and links to the songs as well ^^

SCHEDULE | there is no schedule. puhon means “in god’s time” so i’ll also be updating and finishing this in god’s time <3

STATUS | ongoing! (3/23)

TAGLIST | send me an ask/dm if you wanna be tagged for all of the fics, or you can specify the ones that you want to be added in (please inform me if you wanna be removed too!)

MOON TAEIL | LEAVES [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | it's the first time you've met someone so carefree— so unapologetically himself. the first meeting, you were annoyed. the second, maybe he wasn't that bad. and the third, fourth, fifth came until you realize that maybe that's what you've been needing all this time. GENRE | office! au, strangers to lovers! au, angst (of course), romance, fluff, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees // and all will be alright in time // from waves overgrown come the calmest of seas // and all will be alright in time // ohh you never really love someone until you learn to forgive"

SEO JOHNNY | NAKIKINIG KA BA SA AKIN? [coming soon!]

(ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?) SUMMARY | political marriages were unavoidable in royalty. it's always what's the best for the nation and not the best for you. you and johnny knew this when your engagement was announced, but one tries his best making things work out, while the other tries her best to avoid the unavoidable. GENRE | modern royal! au, arranged marriage! au, one sided e2l, romance, angst, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “sasalubungin kita sa dulo ng 'yong galit” + “nakikinig ka ba sa akin? // hindi kita gustong awayin // pareho ang ating hangarin // ang kadiliman ay basagin" ("i will meet you at the end of your anger" + "are you listening to me? // i don't wish to fight you // we both dream of the same thing")

LEE TAEYONG | PAALAM [coming soon!]

(GOODBYE) SUMMARY | there are five stages in moving on, but taeyong can’t seem to get past the first stage. that is until his friend johnny introduced him to you— self proclaimed heart doctor and a professional at helping people let go. there are also five stages in falling in love, but you found yourself falling through all five stages quicker than you’d expected, and for someone that you know that you shouldn’t be falling for. GENRE | strangers to lovers! au, a dash of unrequited love but happy ending don’t worry, angst angst angst, romance, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “ba't 'di man lang nagpaalam? // oh, 'di lang ikaw 'yung nasaktan // hindi pa ba sapat // nung binigay ko ang lahat?” + “at kahit 'di nagpaalam // 'di bale na kung nasaktan // ika'y naging sapat // kahit tinapon ang lahat // paalam” ("why didn't you even say goodbye? // you're not the only one that got hurt // was it not enough // when i gave you everything?" + "and even if you didn't say goodbye // nevermind that we've been hurt // you were enough // even if we threw everything away // goodbye")

NAKAMOTO YUTA | DOORS [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | yuta was loud, open, and unafraid to relay anything that's on his mind. you were not. quiet, reserved,and preferred to keep things to yourself, even while you two were together. people asked yuta how did the both of you manage to stay together this long— from the last year of high school until now in college, and he'd always answer with a smile that you're kind, understanding, patient, and oh wait— that's all he really knew about you, didn't he? GENRE | college! au, established relationship! au, yuta is a loud dumbass while you’re a quiet dumbass, very heartwarming growth of the relationship jdhfjd, romance, fluff, minimal angst maybe WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "i won't ever know what's on your mind // if you'll always be hidin' behind // words you never mean, just to be kind // will there ever be no more of your secret doors?"

QIAN KUN | MASYADO PANG MAAGA [coming soon!]

(TOO EARLY) SUMMARY | italy— the land of love, as they say. of course, that was only a saying, kun knew well of that. he wasn't expecting to actually fall in love on the cobblestone streets of the country, but things always happen when you least expect it. he didn't expect you to leave as quickly as you came, either. GENRE | pain just pain, tourist! au, strangers to lovers to strangers <//3, romance, angst, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “parang kay bilis ng iyong pag-alis // teka lang, teka lang, teka lang muna // sa'n nagkamali? // pwede bang bumawi?” + “na minahal kita higit pa sa sarili ko?” ("why did it take no time // for you to leave // please, please, please wait a while // where did i go wrong? // can i make up for it?" + "that i loved you more than i love myself")

KIM DOYOUNG | MITSA [coming soon!]

(CANDLE WICK) SUMMARY | once a candle wick has died, no matter how much you try to light it up, it will never ignite again. the only thing you can do is light another candle and hope it doesn't die the same way. GENRE | actor! au, fake dating! au (kind of but not quite hehe), angst very angsty, romance, fluff, light ending <33 WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “'pag wala na naman tayong nararamdaman // ay mabuti pang itigil na'ng kunwa-kunwari lang // 'pag wala na naman din itong pupuntahan // ay mabuti pang sabihin na'ng salamat // salamat” ("if we don't feel anything for each other anymore // it's better to just stop pretending // if this won't go anywhere // it's better to just say thank you, thank you")

TEN LEE | BRANCHES [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | things that are forbidden always taste the sweetest, always bring the most excitement. maybe that's why adam and eve couldn't help but eat the fruit from the garden of eden. and maybe that was also why you couldn't get enough of the boy you met at the masquerade party, and why you couldn't find it in you to let him go. GENRE | romeo and juliet! au, strangers to lovers! au, secret relationship (obviusly djf), romance, angst, suggestive, fluff, they do not die don’t worry WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "was a fire and you were gold // said we'd ignite until we're old + "you and i were meant to be // branches of different trees"

JUNG JAEHYUN | MAKE IT WITH YOU [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | jung jaehyun had always been a part of your life one way or another. from just someone you know as you pass by your high school corridors, to having the same mutual friend in college, and now possibly one of the closest people that you have in your life. he's always been there, and you didn't want him to step out of your life any time soon (and neither did he). GENRE | friends to lovers! au, mutual pining, romance, fluff, a dash of angst, suggestive WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "life can be short or long // love can be right or wrong // and if i chose the one i'd like to help me through // i'd like to make it with you"

DONG SICHENG | HUMMINGBIRD [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | summers at ten's lakehouse were always a mess. the moment he was taken in by the fresh winds of nature, he already started wondering how far south would things go. even more so when he finds that ten had invited a couple more familiar faces this year. one being far too familiar for his liking. or, wherein sicheng swears he's over you, but a humming in his head says otherwise. GENRE | exes to lovers! au (sorta, you’ll understand soon), summer! au, angst angst angst, romance, a couple of bad decisions WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "but one half of my senses // silently wishes // you were still with me" + "hummingbird // beating of your wings still echoes in my mind // hummingbird // somewhere in me singing // wish we could rewind"

KIM JUNGWOO | TALAARAWAN [coming soon!]

(DIARY) SUMMARY | jungwoo wasn't the same shy kid as he was in high school, a dreamer that could only imagine the what if's because taking the dive is terrifying. but now he's different, and he's determined to make the dreams that he wrote on the pages of his diary into reality. thank god that his high school reunion is coming soon. GENRE | some high school! au, the one that got away (oof), friends(ish?) to lovers! au, romance, humor, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “bakit hindi ko mahinto // ang pagsara ng 'yong pinto? // pakiusap, sandali lang” + “pakibalik naman, konting minutong nakaraan // 'di magawang pakawalan // talaarawan” ("why can't i stop the closing of your door? // hold on, just a moment" + "can you bring back those small moments in the past? // can't find it in my to let them go // talaarawan")

WONG YUHKEI | FALL [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | the feeling for meeting your soulmate for the first time is once in a lifetime. but with lucas, you get to experience that every single day and you're sure that you could never get enough of it. GENRE | soulmate! au, FLUFF so much fluff, romance, lucas is a cassanova but only for u, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "so why don't we fall in love tonight // 'cause everything else just feels so right // and i just want to hold you tight // so why don't we just fall"

MARK LEE | BIBINGKA

SUMMARY | legend says that if you finish all nine night masses of simbang gabi, your wish will be granted. mark only hopes that it’s actually true because that’s his last and only chance in getting you to notice him (but wait— shouldn’t his wish only come true after the nine days?) GENRE | christmas! au, crush! au, lots of fluff, mark is a piner, mark is also very awkward, some filipino references and customs WARNINGS | swearing, religious themes PROMPTS | “pagdating ng ama namin, ang oras huminto // nang magkahawak ang ating mga kamay // umawit mga ulap at sabay // nagsiawit ang mga anghel sa langit” + “pero mula nu'ng unang ama namin na // ang iyong kamay ay hinawakan // 'di mo na binitawan” (the our father came, and time stopped // when our hands touched // the skies sang and the angels in heaven sang together” + “but ever since the first our father, i held your hand // and you never let go of it”)

XIAO DEJUN | GODSENT [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | an unknown illness has struck earth, eating away at a person’s memories, emotions, and feelings until a hollow husk is left. dejun’s heart falls apart when it got to you, and t’s hard to keep himself together when your memories of him and you start to fall apart. the only hope he can keep holding onto is the light in your eyes. GENRE | established relationship! au, pure angst xiaojun i’m sorry, some romance and fluff into the mix WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "god sent those eyes // to get me through the night" + "when all the memories in my head subside // you'll remain here // you'll remain dear inside"

WONG KUNHANG | LIFETIME [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | due to a mistake that he made centuries ago, hendery is forced to live through lifetimes being intertwined with you— only to see you fall in love with someone other than him in each life. never yours, but he once was. GENRE | fantasy! au?, angst (obviously), maybe romance and fluff if you squint. WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "was there a lifetime waiting for us in a world where i was yours? // was it the wrong time, what if we tried giving in a little more? // i'd spend a lifetime waiting in vain just to go back to the way we were before"

HUANG RENJUN | ROOTS [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | huang renjun. the very name brings venom to your veins. you loathed him, and he detested you. it was a mutual understanding built up on hate that went on for over ten years of your lives, but no matter how much you wanted to avoid each other, fate would still manage to spiral the both of you together. until the moment that actually happens and somehow it just feels wrong. GENRE | enemies to lovers! au, angst, romance, fluff, a bunch of emotionaly dense motherfuckers WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "lives have grown roots around each other // we both know the truth is we don't really care // to find any room to doubt each other // we're tied by the roots of whatever we shared"

LEE JENO | PAGTINGIN [coming soon!]

(HOW YOU LOOK AT ME) SUMMARY | it is an unspoken, universal rule that you shouldn't catch feelings for one of your brother's best friends. but what were you supposed to do when cupid decides to shoot you down with all of his arrows? leaving you absolutely enamored for the smiley eyed boy that you see way too often for your heart's safety. GENRE | brothers best friend, brother! renjun, years and years of pining oh my gosh, romance, fluff, some angst WARNING | tbd PROMPTS | “dami pang gustong sabihin // ngunit 'wag na lang muna // hintayin na lang ang hanging // tangayin ang salita” + “'pag nilahad ang damdamin // sana 'di magbago ang pagtingin” ("there are a lot of things that i'd like to say // but i'll keep it to myself for now // i'll just wait for the wind to carry all my thoughts aloud" + "if i lay out my feelings for you // i hope you won't change how you look at me")

LEE DONGHYUCK | KATHANG ISIP

SUMMARY | musings of the mind and heart are always dangerous— it's easy to get carried away and get lost in your made up scenarios, rose colored wishes, and fleeting daydreams of what you thought would be. that is until reality hits you like the crashing of an ocean's waves. GENRE | roommates! au, college! au, flirty donghyuck, it’s bittersweet, angst, romance, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “bawat kilig na nadarama sa tuwing hawak ang iyong kamay // ito'y maling akala, isang malaking sablay” + “pasensya ka na sa mga kathang isip kong ito // wari'y dala lang ng pagmamahal sa iyo” ("every thrill i felt while i was holding you hand // it was just a wrong assumption" + "i'm sorry for all these delusions of mine // i guess i was just carried away by my love for you")

NA JAEMIN | ARAW-ARAW

(EVERY DAY) SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circumstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart. GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry PROMPTS | “kay tagal ko nang nag-iisa // and'yan ka lang pala // mahiwaga, pipiliin ka sa araw-araw // mahiwaga, ang nadarama sa 'yo'y malinaw” + “payapa sa yakap ng iyong hiwaga” (”been alone for so long // but you were just there all along // mahiwaga, i’ll choose you everyday // mahiwaga, what i feel for you is as clear as day + “at peace in the embrace of your magic”)

LIU YANGYANG | RIDE HOME [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | it’s hellweek and you’re hellbent on finishing all your deadlines this weekend. but yangyang had a different idea, and it took you two rest stops too many to agree that his was the better one. or, wherein the ride home didn’t actually feel like a ride home because you've been with him all this time. GENRE | roadtrip! au, best friends to lovers! au, there is only one bed (the works), fluff, romance, maybe some angst, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "so i'm coming home to you, you // you're all i need, the very air i breathe // you are home" + "when i'm with you home is never too far"

OSAKI SHOTARO | MAYBE THE NIGHT [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | high school dances are always fun unless you get stood up by your date. lucky for you, you weren't the only unlucky soul tonight. GENRE | prom! au, high school! au, fluff, romance WARNINGS | tbd. PROMPTS | "moon has never glowed this color // hearts have never been this close // i have never been more certain // i will love you 'til we're old" + "maybe the night holds a little hope for us, dear"

JUNG SUNGCHAN | SA SUSUNOD NA HABANG-BUHAY [coming soon!]

(IN THE NEXT LIFE) SUMMARY | it's never too early to fall in love. but before falling, you must be a hundred percent sure or else you'd only end up crashing down.  GENRE | breakup! au, angst, but this is gonna end on a light note i swear WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “hindi ba pangako mo nu'ng una // tiwala'y iingatan? // baka naman, sa susunod na habang-buhay, ha-ay na lang” + “ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin kong mahalin // sa susunod na habang-buhay” ("didn't you promise back then // to cherish our trust? // maybe only in our next life, then" + "i'd still choose to love you in my next life")

ZHONG CHENLE | SUNRISE [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | one summer vacation and you discover all new sides of your childhood best friend, zhong chenle. he’s still as hyperactive, competitive, and a little shit as he was before, but there were a few changes. maybe those changes changed something within you, as well. GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, summer vacation! au, fluff, romance, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "pull the windows down, the night was young // so we'd hide under the sheets until the dawn" + "sunrise // i have run this far still i find you // sunrise // show my weary heart that a new day will soon arrive // new day will soon arrive"

PARK JISUNG | WAR [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | a few months before college and jisung feels like his time is running out. he wasn't ready to face the rest of the world yet when he had barely experienced anything at the age of eighteen— and neither were you. the both of you are determined to accomplish everything you've ever wanted to do within the remaining few months before finally parting ways. GENRE | coming of age! au, best friends to lovers! au, romance, very lighthearted, fluff, minimal angst WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "i wanna go // and fight in this fight // i wanna be // be more than just a child" + "i wanna hear // the marching sound of love"

© hannie-dul-set, 2020.

[katsuflossy]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Dabi x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: Detailed parental abuse, detailed description of a mental episode, obscenities, mention of arranged marriage

A/n: ngl all of this is severely overdue but the recent chapter made my creative juices flow so here we are! Please enjoy💖

Taglist: @melanimed @mixfi @mythiccheroacademia @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @ecao @strawberry-ice @plutropica @photosbyameil @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero​ @sleepysheepkiara​

The air was crisp, dark, and cold, what one had expected for the autumn night. Only a few patrons roamed the streets in the twilight. Those that wander under the streetlight had their eyes crossed, mind buzzed, and hand full of one final drink due to being kicked out of the bars. The ladies of the kingdom stayed within the comfort of their homes. They laid around the compassion of their loves or their families, only knowing of the horrors of the outside through gossip. The most recent urban legend paced through the streets with a scowl fixed on his face. Azure eyes glowed danger through the darkness, never revealing the coat-clad scarred body until passing under the street lights. The drunks waddled out of Dabi’s way, feeling the rolls of anger off of him from a twenty-meter radius. For once, the fire quirk wielder ignored the low bastards, never smirking as they cowered in fear nor sparking their shoes afire, laughing as they tried to put them out. No, his mind was occupied, fist clenching and unclenching in the pocket of his coat. Thoughts of past and future overwrote each other in his brain, creating a void of black in his mind. His own psyche started to turn on him again, knowing what’s about to happen would risk many lives. However, Dabi cared only about two lives-- his own and yours.

Like God gave him a sign, he passed the alleyway of a sweet memory. Running away from authority was his regular schedule since the age of 11 but he was close to getting caught one day. Caught but cunning, Dabi held you, hostage, by the neck. The little blue flame from his finger close to searing the flesh of your cheek as he backed into the dark alleyway, away from the entire police force out front. He dragged you through numerous yards before you begged him to stop, hands on your knees as you gulped for air. Glowing eyes stared at the ruby necklace that swang from your neck, almost daring him to try to take it. The second his fingertips could graze the jewel you slapped him away, grip tight on the chain and a fire in your eyes.

“You could take anything from me—shit even the pads of my shoes if you want—but I don’t want you to take this. Here, I’m sure the ring will cost more.” You glided the ring off your hand before offering it to Dabi.

Confused couldn’t even describe Dabi’s thoughts at that moment. Are you really offering a lowlife scum precious jewels? With a smile on your face?

“Are you demented?” The tilt of your lips turned down into a scowl. A haughty hmph passed your nostrils as you looked away from the criminal.

“You were stealing from Greggley’s pawn shop. The same bastard that swindles townsfolk out of their money and rats out people to the police for a living. I’d pay to see that fear on his face again when you ran off with me and his pile of stolen goods. So here’s my payment.” Dabi cautiously took the sapphire ring from your palm. The situation was ironic, he seemed more fearful than you. Cyan eyes watched as the dust on your outfit disappeared by the pats and sweeps of your hands before jumping up. You stayed rocking from the heels of your feet to the soles, eyes waiting expectantly on the chilled man to say something. Instead, his eyes bored straight into yours, deadpanned as he occasionally averted his gaze from the entrance of the deep alley, then back to you. The shouts of police guards had left from long ago; the sounds of their frantic pace went far off into the distance. Yet, you remained in this cramped space with him.

It unnerved him to no end.

“Well, your highness, your mutts went the other way to look for you. You can scurry away now,” He questioned his words. Why is he letting you go so easily? You were a perfect hostage. Just by your yelp, he could have your father in his palms, an important piece to the league’s ultimate plan. The smile on your face didn’t ease his confusion at all. His eyes burned with irritation, upset by your cheerful demeanor.

“Oi, are you fucking braindead? I said scram,” Your face dropped, forming a pout before pulling into a smile again. Dabi felt his eye twitch as you began to chuckle. His hand igniting blue flames as he stepped towards you. You put your hands up into the chilly air.

“Woah now, I’m just saying I could be of more use, Mr. Criminal.” The heat dissipated from his hand. His eyes looked as cold as marbles but within his head, he roamed over the possibilities, how and why should he trust you. Dabi was never a gambler, always a mouse wary of traps but today, he felt lucky. The once fiery hand laid out before you, staples glinting in the dim lighting.

“Dabi,” his eyes roamed over your face, noticing the crinkles at the corner of your eyes never softening, the gleam in your eyes shining more than before. You were actually happy.

“You already know my last name but that’s unimportant right now. The name’s (Y/n).”

The memory cleared away like smoke, reminding Dabi of his mission now. His hand clenched around nothing, his fist tight to relieve the searing anger in his chest. He imagined burning Shigaraki over and over, enveloping in the heat of his wrath as punishment for putting him on this mission.

Red beady eyes looked at Dabi in nonchalance, ignoring the smoke rising from his scarred hand.

“We built our whole organization on this end goal. We are one step closer to annihilating these ‘heroes’ and you’re rejecting this offer? Over some little noble mole?” the insult adding more fuel to Dabi’s rage and fire. His flames barely reached Tomura before being engulfed into another dimension thanks to Kurogiri’s interference. Unrelenting glares fixed at each other. Even then Shigaraki continued.

“I’m not saying it again. Either you do your job and save your blue-blood or they die by our hands.”

His eye pulsed; an ache coiled around his nape to his temple. His own anger throbbed in his head and blindsided his mind. He could add Shigaraki to his body count but your life, to him, was paramount. He withdrew his fire, recollecting himself before shoving his hands into his pockets. He surveyed the room, eyes scanning all the league in disdain; the others avoided his intense gaze. The gravel crunched under his heavy boots as he stomped out of the hideout.

Shigaraki’s threats echoed through Dabi’s head, anger already swelling at the thought of his red eyes as Dabi reached the edge of your house. The whirls of wind carried his coat in their stream, pulling the fabric all about. The walls of dark stone contrasted the warm yellow lights of your not-so-humble but welcoming abode. Dabi only knew the layout of your room but whenever he’s in there, there were hardly any lights from behind your bedroom door, just the occasional shuffling of the maids.

He halted his thoughts, pressing his foot against a jutted brick before hopping on to another. His movements were smooth and familiar as if he had perfected this route. He sat on the window’s stony ledge, fingers rapting against its pane, staring into the night as he waited on you to open the window panel.

Meanwhile, you were balled up in a corner, fingernails creating welts on your skin. Still, the stinging pain didn’t distract you from the taste of iron in your mouth, the phantom feeling of blunt rings on your cheek. Your silent cries shook you to your core, sharp inhales forced your weeping to stop, only for them to return again. All crying ceased once you heard knocking on your window, the same three raps then two softer taps only known to two. A familiar rhythm, one that closely relates to the song you made the criminal danced to during one night at a pub. The precious memory was unable to soothe the paranoia of your mind right now. A hitch in your breath paused all noises in your little quarter. If you stopped breathing, maybe he’d think no one was home. You ultimately stopped breathing only for harsher rapping to strike against your window.

On shaky legs, you stood up, swiping off any trails of tears and snot from your face. The cold air greeting you swung open the window for Dabi, who immediately hopped into the warm comb. He barely skimmed over your appearance before asking.

“What the fuck happened to you?” His hand came up to your swollen cheek; an obvious insignia marked the skin. You didn’t flinch away, instead, you wet your lips, pressing more into his palm. His hands were chilly from the cold outside but the contact warmed your entire body.

“I can’t do it anymore, Dabi.” A broken whisper escaped your lungs. Tears bled through your closed eyes, wetting Dabi’s thumb as he swiped a lone one away. He stood still, billions of thoughts jumbling in his mind as you bawled into his chest. Should he do this? On this night? Your well-being and the league’s plan fought for his attention. Every thought of his mission drowned by the sight of the insignia on your face.

“(Y/n), what the fuck did he do to you?” His shirt crumpled within your hands as you contemplated telling him the truth.

Nobody expected your father, an honorary Knight-Captain, to abuse his only child. It took one loose-lipped servant to say that you were seeing a commoner man in the kingdom for him to wrap his hands around your throat. You remember your body flailing, the coldness of your cheeks as tears fell from your bulging eyes. He dropped you by your mother’s cold command. As you gulped for any type of air she told you to stand. Her patience grew thin quickly as she ripped you off of the ground, your legs nearly collapsing from the force. A shroud of care she put herself under, letting her adorned knuckles skim across your cheekbones as she talked about your fate. You're being shipped off to marry the highest knight family, the Todorokis. Enjirou, commander of the Kingsguard, sought after you for his son, Natsuo Todoroki, for months. Your inappropriate actions caused your arranged marriage to arrive quicker. Her veil lifted, and in an instant, she whipped her hand across your face, the blow smacking your staggering body to the side. Their eyes entertained at your cry. She fixed her rings as she declared your fate. House arrest until the Todorokis picked up their new toy. They left you on the ground, weeping until Dabi arrived.

Stammers and hiccups escaped your lips instead of comprehensible words. His shirt crumpled under the intensity of your grip. In that time, Dabi had gathered all the information needed. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he loosened your constriction on his clothes, fingers interlacing in between your shaky digits. A shadow cast over his face as he talked to you.

“(Y/n),” your eyes dull and lost, you were wrapped up in your own severed psyche. A finger on your chin, he guided you to meet his eyes.

“Let me fix this,” It wasn’t a duel, but warfare that unfolded in his headspace as he asked, begged for your permission. You barely felt yourself nod before seeing the flame reignited in Dabi’s eyes. The smile on his face grew like a wildfire, nearly meeting the staples under his eyes. He left your numb body with a soft peck and a willful promise before walking, for the first time, out your bedroom door. Muted footsteps sounded miles away even though he left the door wide open. When did you end up on the ground, scraped knees meeting the plush of your rug, though you did not feel it? The warmth of the room dissipated from the air, goosebumps rising along your skin. Your body could only focus on one sense at a time, tuning into the sounds around you. Though muffled, you could hear the guttural screaming coming from rooms away. The cries formed into pleas before morphing back into incomprehensibility. Whether your body was protecting you from further trauma or not, your audible sense shut off only to look at the smeared blood all over your rug. Your ears never picked up on your outcry, pushing your diaphragm, but Dabi’s did.

He sprinted back to your room immediately, leaving his fires to completely consume your parents and lick at the foundations of the walls. His black coat draped over your body before he lifted you into his arms. The hungry fire now satiated, he left the same way he entered but with now, with you within his arms.

He knows what he did wrong, rubbing salt into your traumatic wounds, but he had a mission to do. He held your trembling body closer to his lithe frame. The league finally made their first step to instigating chaos but that did not matter right now. Dashing through the alleyways, he took a look into your blank eyes, cast away into another realm. The sounds of the Knights fighting against your burning house faded as he ran. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he made another promise to you.

“No one will ever tear us apart. I don’t care if this whole place burns to the ground. Just know you are the only one that matters. It’ll just be me and you at the end. Whatever it takes to get there.”

[mhashorts]

When Our Eyes Meet

Inspired by mmajjyc’s art on TikTok.

Pairing : God Izuku Midoriya x Reincarnated Katsuki Bakugou

Prompt : God falls in love with a mortal, only to lose him. The reincarnation of his lover slowly remembers him after making eye contact with a painting.

Genre : Romance, Fantasy, Anime

Word Count : 1,550....I think.

It was a sudden visit to the museum, nothing interesting to be expected besides the random pieces of art made years ago by artists known and unknown. And some new pieces of modern art of course. Eijirou thought this trip would be a great outing, something different from the amusement parks, arcades, and movie theater. He also needed the visit so he could write the 5-page essay on specific pieces of art for his college class that was due in two days. Not like he was going to tell any one of his friends that though. Unbeknownst to him, Denki and Katsuki did know the moment Eijirou pulled out his notebook from his backpack once they stepped foot on the museum’s front steps. They just did not want to ruin the positive atmosphere.

Grumbling as the trio walks further into the museum, Katsuki separates himself from his friends but stays close from behind as they enter the Japanese God’s and Goddesses exhibition first. There were a decent amount of people examining the art and sculptures, silently speaking amongst themselves. Some even attempting to sneak a few pictures of the angels in the paintings.

Eijirou and Denki walked at a fair pace, catching glimpses of everything here and there. Coming up to a huge mural-like portrait painting, Katsuki stops in his tracks and stares up into the eyes that suddenly caught his attention. He stays fixated on this piece of art that displayed a crying angel, paying no mind to his friends who continued walking, leaving him behind.

Deciding he wanted to know more, out of pure curiosity, he calls out to Eijirou. “Oi. Shitty hair, give me the guidebook.” He demands, not sparing him a glance as his focus stayed on the painting. “I wanna know who this is.” Eijirou turns to him (as well as Denki) and brings the book up to his face, flipping through the pages.

Finding the right page, he reads it out to his friend who was ready to listen. “It’s a representation of Izuku, The God of Peace. He answered people’s prayers and was worshipped in all Japan in ancient times.” “One day he fell in love with a mortal, and he was banished from the god realm.” An image of Izuku with a huge smile flashed through Katsuki’s memory suddenly, causing him to shudder. He did not know why but it felt like déjà vu to him. Like he has experienced seeing that smile before in person.

“Legend says he is among us, trying to find the reincarnation of his long-lost lover… who remains unknown?”

Katsuki’s eyes stayed on the face of the green haired angel and his eyes widen as another memory flashes through his brain once more. This memory was vividly clear to the point a single tear fell down his cheek. He shakes his head to rid the memory, but it was no use. Then he recalls the dreams he had that he never remembered the morning after. Unable to tear his eyes away from the green ones that stared back, Katsuki jumps to the touch of his friend’s hand on his shoulder. He turns to them with teary eyes. Eijirou and Denki stand their shocked, not knowing what to do since this was the first time seeing their hardheaded friend so emotional.

“Are you okay Bakubro?” Eijirou asks, “Did I say something wrong?”

Katsuki uses his sleeve to wipe his tears and shoves his way past the two.

“Woah. I didn’t know he cried. He’s usually so kept.” Denki states, watching his friend leave the exhibit. He looks at Eijirou, “I’m worried. Should we go after him?”

It doesn’t take the red-haired friend more than two seconds to respond, “Just give him a minute. I think he needs to be by himself for a while. I’m sure he’ll message us if he goes home.”

“Okay.” The two continue their visit.

~

Katsuki makes his way out of the museum in a rush, not caring if he bumped into anyone on accident. He was somewhat thankful that his friends did not follow him out, not wanting to break down even more in front of them. He treks down the stupidly long cement set of stairs and when he finally reaches the last step, he trips over his own feet. With no way to prepare himself for impact, he closes his eyes, only for him to land in a pair of sturdy arms.

“Woah. Are you okay?” The person who caught him asks, helping him to his feet. “These stairs seem to be a little steep. There should be a sign that says, ‘watch your step’. Haha.” He jokes before pulling his hands away from Katsuki. Looking up, the two make eye contact and the memory floods back.

~Flash Back~

Izuku’s face was covered in dirty tears as he held his lover in his arms, his face buried in the ash-blonde hair that was now stained red. He screamed out to the gods, begging for forgiveness so he could heal his dying lover. Alas, the gods did not respond to his cries. He rocked his dear Katsuki, kissing his face over and over in hopes that the gods and goddesses saw his pain.

“Don’t die on me. I cannot live on this world without you. I just can’t.” He pulls him closer, “Please Kacchan. Please.”

Katsuki lets out a small cough, placing his hand on Izuku’s tear stained face. “I wish I could, but I don’t have immortality like you, my love.” He whispers, “Or else I would walk on this earth with you for eternity.”

“No. Not like this Kacchan. I won’t let you die.” “I can’t be healed, whether it be from the gods or yourself.” Izuku cries get harder, “This is all my fault. If I didn’t fall in love with you, you would be living peacefully.”

“Yet here we are.” Katsuki coughs, “It’s not your fault Deku. None of this was your fault. I fell in love with you, and nothing could come between that, not even the gods. Please, do not blame yourself.” More coughs erupt and blood falls past Katsuki’s lips.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Izuku apologizes. Katsuki uses the last of his strength to bring Izuku’s head down so their foreheads touch.

“What did I say Deku? Don’t apologize.” He grunts, “We will meet again. And when we do, I may not remember until my eyes meet yours.”

“O-of course.” The two share a final kiss and once Izuku pulls away, Katsuki’s body falls limp.

“Got damn you!” He shouts up at the sky, crying harder. “I did nothing wrong but fall in love with someone who had a heart! You all would do the same if you were in my place. You let me keep my immortality but at what cost. To see my suffering for falling in love!”

He looks down at Katsuki’s body once more, “When our eyes meet. I’ll see you again Kacchan.”

~End of Flashback~

Reality sets back in and Katsuki is in shock. He does not break away and looks deeper into the familiar green eyes. “Deku?”

Izuku, equally shocked, slowly starts breaking out into tears. “Kacchan? Is that you?”

Engulfing Katsuki into a hug, he brings his hands to the ash-blonde hair. Soft and spikey, same as before. He pulls away for a second, examining the face he dreamed about every night. The lips he remembered kissing. The eyes he stared into for hours on end. “Please tell me you remember me.”

Katsuki smiles back, “I do. It’s cloudy but I do my Deku.”

“Yes. I’m your Deku.” He laughs through the tears, hugging his lover again. “It’s been so long Kacchan. I almost lost hope.”

“Like I said, I may not remember until my eyes meet yours.”

They make eye contact again and finally, after decades of their souls being separated, they share a kiss. A spark flows through the two of them, rekindling the fire that has been waiting to be ignited once again.

They can finally live in peace.

~

At the top of the stairs, Denki and Eijirou fist bump. “Our job is done. Great work partner.”

“Do you think we should tell them that the Goddess of Love sent us?” Denki asks.

“Nah. I think they’ll be better off knowing that the gods regret their decision to banish him. Plus, Midoriya is no longer immortal.” They look at Izuku, smiling when they see he is finally at peace and can rest after decades of searching. “It seems like he already knows that.”

“And I don’t want to know what Bakugo would do to us if he finds out we knew about this this whole time. We might be the goddess’s helpers; we can still get hurt.” Denki nods rapidly in agreement.

The two watch on as the lovers walk away, holding each other close as they disappear into the crowd. “We are good friends.”

“THEY DID WHAT, DEKU??!!!” Katsuki shouts, running back towards the museum with Izuku right behind him.

“Hey. Do you still have that essay to write?”

“Yup. Wanna go back to the apartment and help me finish it?”

“Yup.” With that, the two book it.

“KACCHAN. THEY DID IT FOR US! DON’T HURT THEM!”

“THEY’RE DEAD.”

The End.....

So, it is the end of the short story I promised. It took me 4 hours to write since I wanted it to be perfect. I tried to input as much detail as possible get make it short. I cried at the flashback part. I also didn’t know if I wanted to do parts but it took me some thinking and I just decided with this. I also added a little funny ending for my pleasure since it’s what I do in my regular writings.

I hope y’all enjoyed it! Let me know if you did!

Also, thanks to mmajjyc for allowing me to write a short story of the duo! You art is beautiful and inspired me to write this since there wasn’t gonna be a part two. Lol! You are amazing!

Thanks again! Much Love - Maia❤️

[ofimaginarybeings-archive]

@inprometheanfire​

he’s used to this torrent of emotions whenever he hears the announcement of another fight. another moment for him to die for the crowds to cheer and praise. he was said to be touched by the gods, The Bringer of Rain and he wished that he had never heard those chants and screams. he wished that his blood didn’t ignite with excitement whenever he stepped into that pit, that cesspool of death and blood. the men that fought with him or against him knew what it was to be as he was. a slave. a bringer of death. someone to face the eyes of death and survive. 

taking two cups of what they declared was wine Spartacus moved to sit on the ground beside Maximus. a man just as, if not far more, famous as he was. Rome screamed his name and yet there was always something so haunted there in his eyes. there was always something heavy that rested on his shoulders and Spartacus wondered whether or not it was simply survival that weighed there. 

he hands one of the cups to him, hands both blistered and coarse from their training and their previous lives. how much hope had there been in the past? it was a strange feeling that echoed through him. one that said that in this moment they weren’t myth, they weren’t mere legends, they were men. true men that had faced the dire threads of a broken world, battered down by Rome and seized by the throat by its excessively greedy hands. Spartacus loathed Rome, he always had and yet his entire life had been taken in a single instant by her.

“ they always tell me to leave you alone. “ he states, his voice low. “ I’m glad that I never do. “ he tries to smile, very slightly but it only appears as a lone ghost of an expression. it only rests there on his face before slipping again. fading as did the memories that he used to cling to so desperately. “ for a man that is so famous here in Rome one would think that you were far more social. “ of course he understood what solitude did to a man in this place. his brow lifts with inquisition. “ one would almost assume that a man like you was planning something. “

[tickle-bugs]

Reignite

Summary: Dean stumbles--or is cosmically shoved, more like--back upon the largest loose end in his life. This is one knot he won’t leave untied.

Took me a year (couldn’t resist the dad joke) but here’s my SPNFluffsgiving fic! I ended up writing two fics and frankensteining them together because I wasn’t happy with either on their own, and I think, all things considered, it turned out well!!! Tried something new with the present-tense vs my usual past tense, which was very, very hard for some reason. Anyways, enjoy!

Spoilers for Supernatural episode 15 x 19 through the finale ahead!

“What’s eating ya?” Bobby takes a swig of his beer and eyes Dean sideways. 

“Nothin’.” 

“We have all of eternity to sit here. Don’t think I won’t.” Bobby flicks the bottle cap at him and chuckles when it bounces off his shoulder. 

“I like it here. It’s nice. Quiet.”

“But…?” Bobby looks at him in that very Bobby-like way, that strange blend of impatience and kindness that leaves no room to doubt that he cares.  

“Something is just...wrong? I dunno. I felt a little better when Sam got here, but I still have this weight on my chest. Like something is missing. I dunno.” Dean taps his fingers against the beer bottle and slumps down in his chair. He heaves a breath that gets stuck somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“You’re saying ‘I don’t know’ a lot for someone who seems to know exactly what’s buggin’ ya.” Bobby raises his beer in a silent ‘I’ll drink to that’. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Dean grumbles, kicking a pebble off of the Roadhouse porch. Bobby whips off his hat and smacks Dean’s arm, then his leg, then his stomach which really wasn’t cool. 

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! Back off!” Dean raises his arms to shield from Bobby’s wrath, biting back a comment about Bobby being a crotchety old man. 

“Think about it. Who’s the only person you haven’t seen since you made it here?” Bobby makes a little bird with his hands and raises his eyebrows as if Dean’s first thought wasn’t of teary blue eyes.

“Cas is in the Empty, Bobby. He’s gone. It just swallowed him like--like nothing.” Dean’s voice breaks and he knocks back his beer to hide it. 

“Jack must have built this magic box wrong. You’re supposed to feel it when a loved one arrives.”

“What?”

“Cas is here, Dean. He helped put this all together.” 

The world shrinks to a pinpoint. The beer bottle slips from Dean’s fingers and his attempt to catch it sends it soaring into the road, where it rolls far enough to qualify as a lost cause. The image of a teary Cas, seconds before destruction, grabs a swift and tight hold of the front of his mind. 

I love you.

“Bobby-”

“Are you really gonna waste your breath arguing with me when I just told you that he’s out there? This may be heaven, but I can still kick your ass.” Bobby narrows his eyes at Dean. 

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

Because it is.

“But-”

“Go after him, Dean.  You made him wait this long already.” Bobby squeezes Dean’s shoulder and shakes him a little, fixing him with those kind-but-tough eyes. Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face, hissing when cold metal pokes him in the eye.

Baby’s keyring dangles from his finger, clinking gently as it collides with his palm. He sighs and shoves it in his pocket, making sure to shake the little ring off of his finger. 

Weird. 

“Can’t escape what your heart wants.” Bobby gestures towards Dean’s hand with an infuriating little smirk, like he knows something Dean doesn’t. 

“That doesn’t mean jack shit,” Dean grumbles. 

“Sure, and I’m President Roosevelt.” Bobby rolls his eyes. 

“Which one?”

“Teddy, obviously.” Bobby leans back in his seat with a chuckle. Dean scratches at his cheek and grunts when, once again, metal digs into his skin. Baby’s keys jingle menacingly at him, like a pushy set of windchimes, and they don’t budge when he tries to shake them away. He turns his hand upside-down and scrapes the keys off like a stubborn piece of gum, but they reappear in the other hand.

“What the fuck?” He holds them up to eye level and they sway in the breeze, jingling again. He drops them and they zoom right back into his hand, like a lame Mjolnir, and okay, someone has to be messing with him. He shakes them a few times to detect any evil (a foolproof method, in his opinion) and Baby’s car alarm starts blaring much louder than it should.

“Dean.”

“Alright, I’m going!” He trudges away from the porch, grumbling under his breath, and the car’s alarm shuts off with a pleasant chirp.

“Tell him I said hi!” Bobby waves and watches the Impala pull onto the open road, raising his beer until he disappears from Dean’s rearview. 

…

Dean cuts the ignition and slides out of the Impala, squinting against the sudden warm breeze. It’s quiet out here. If it wasn’t for the constant tugging on his soul, like a bratty kid demanding attention, it would be nice. Peaceful, even.

He leans against the bridge railing and closes his eyes against the next gust of wind, this one much more powerful than the first. Everything in the vicinity rustles as the wind dances by. He leans his forehead against his hands and sighs.

What the hell would he even say?

There’s no manual for this, no prior experience or family legend to consult. Jesus, he’s like a teenager trying to apologize for standing up a date. He’d ditched Cas at the celestial prom, and now he has to face the music. No more asking Dad to leave early for the next hunt so he wouldn’t have to face whichever girl he dumped. Grown-ass men face their weird, divine love affairs with dignity, not revenge hookups in the girl’s locker room. 

Highschool Dean would call Present Dean a bitch for even trying to chase after Cas.

Highschool Dean was a dick, anyway. 

Okay, he needs a gameplan. Stay calm, cool, and collected--like he’s working a case. Cas doesn’t need to know about the butterflies rioting in his stomach. Dean would be smooth and chill. They’ll talk like adults--yeah, that’s it. Grown-ass men, and whatnot. He’d just send Cas a message on angel radio, he’d zip on down, and they’d be hunkydory--

“Hello, Dean.”

Shit.

He whips around, his throat already closing up in mutiny. Just seeing Cas is a punch in the gut--he looks just as Dean remembers, if not better. It’s as if not a day has passed since the Bunker, and god, Dean might not be qualified for this. 

Cas smiles timidly as he steps forward, hands shoved awkwardly into his coat pockets. His head’s bowed, as if he’s in trouble, as if Dean would scold him for who fucking knows what, and his blood boils at the thought. 

“Dean?” Cas tilts his head.

Something grips Dean, something powerful and terrifying in its ferocity. A force he doesn’t understand surges at the bounds of his body, welling up into his throat, his heart, his lungs. Tears spill from him at a terrifying rate but he’s numb and aching all at once. He’s shaking--no, trembling--and he pulls Cas into a kiss before he loses his nerve. 

If he could quantify the triumph of nearly two decades of suffocating pining, he’d say it tastes like stale peppermint. He makes a mental note to lecture Cas about his choice in gum later—spearmint is obviously superior. 

Dean pulls away when his gross, sticky hiccups start to interfere with the sweetness of the kiss. He feels disgusting but he couldn’t stop crying if he wanted to. 

Definitely not one of his highlight moments. 

“Cas,” he croaks. Cas, Cas, Cas, loops in his head, interfering with the static everything else he needs to say. A tumultuous wave of words presses against his lips and he focuses all of his energy on getting them out. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright.�� Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, swiping away tears with his thumbs, but he’s sobbing so hard that it doesn’t make a difference. His ‘calm, cool, and collected’ plan is effectively blown to hell and he curses himself for it.  

“You shouldn’t have gone out like that, man. Fuck, I should have said something-”

“Dean, it’s alright--”

“No, it isn’t. I screwed up, Cas. I screwed up so fuckin’ bad.” Dean blinks at a tear-warped Cas, gripping his forearms as if he’d disappear in the breeze. 

“When you said...what you said, I thought it back. It was easier to say in my head but I should’ve said it out loud. You deserve to hear it. You deserve everything.” Speaking his mind is like willingly chugging motor oil. He swallows thickly as his thoughts start to align into some semblance of clarity. 

“You deserved more time,” Cas murmurs, and he has the nerve to look upset. He always wanted to give Dean more, so much more than he ever deserved. 

“Shut up,” Dean growls. Some switch flips in him, some bristly protectiveness that has him wanting to shake the angel like a margarita until he finally admits his worth. 

“Dean--”

“Nope. No more heroic bullshit. You’ve given enough, Cas. It’s enough. You’re enough.” Dean grips Cas’s shoulders and stares him down. Cas opens his mouth to retort but whatever expression is on Dean’s face presumably shuts him up. 

“You’ve always had me, Cas. You will always have me. I have never loved anyone the way I love you.” Finally, finally, the words tumble out without a second thought. Dean’s death grip on Cas’s shoulders loosens. He did it. 

“I love you too, Dean. I’ve loved you since the very beginning.” Cas smiles, as if it’s simple. 

“Gross,” Dean quips on instinct, and he regrets it the second it comes out. 

“You’re gross,” Cas fires back, squinty eyes and all, and Dean barks out a laugh that startles them both.

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, cradling the back of Cas’s neck with his hand, and resolves never to let him go. Never again.

...

“Dean Novak ain’t bad,” Dean murmurs, rubbing a hand over Cas’s bare shoulder. The angel’s nestled into his side, huffing warm breaths into his collarbone, and he would rather die again than forget the feeling of Cas’s sleepwarm skin. 

“Mm. Castiel Winchester.” His lips graze over Dean’s chest in a low effort sort-of kiss. 

“You shouldn’t have to carry that name, after everything.”

“Hyphenation isn’t uncommon. Winchester-Novak?” Cas tilts his head up and scoots just slightly, trying to preserve his warm spot in Dean’s arms. He presses a proper kiss to the base of Dean’s throat and hums when he twitches away. 

“Sounds less like a name and more like a spell.” Dean snorts, and Cas swats his shoulder.

“I fell in love with you, Dean Winchester, and it would be an honor to carry that name. Even if it is completely ceremonial.” Cas turns Dean’s face down towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. Dean’s a little more than breathless at the way Cas’s eyes catch the moonlight but he still manages to grin. 

“Winchester is a dumb name, sorry.” 

“You are blatantly disrespecting my fiancé.” Cas squints at him. 

“Hmm, am I?” Dean’s eyes flit down to Cas’s lips, tongue flicking against his teeth. 

“Yes.”

“Your fiancé is a dumbass for not proposing to you sooner.” Dean cradles the back of Cas’s head, absently scratching his fingers along the scalp.

“He absolutely is. But only I get to say that about him.” Cas’s face settles into a steely neutrality betrayed only by the sparkle in his eye. Dean leans in closer but Cas stops him with a finger over his lips.

“Apologize.”

“Wh--are you serious?” 

“Apologize, Dean.” Cas pushes himself up on his elbow and cocks his eyebrow.

“You want me to apologize...to myself?” Dean chuckles in disbelief, waiting for Cas to admit he’s joking, but all he receives are wide, blinking blue eyes. 

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” Cas murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. Before Dean can protest, Cas throws his leg over Dean’s and buries his nimble fingers into his ribs. 

“Wait, Cas--ahaha!”

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t kind towards yourself, I don’t want to hear them.” Cas leans up to nip at Dean’s ear, burying a few chuckles directly behind it. His fingers trail down Dean’s body, pinching every inch of his ribs and sides.

What leaves Dean next is less words and more a verbal error noise. He arches away, desperately shoving at Cas’s shoulders. All he does is turn himself around, and Cas is very quick to wrap him up in his arms. His fingers press into Dean’s lower stomach and trip over one another like he’s gliding over piano keys. 

Dean curls, arms folded over his middle. Cas manages a cheeky pinch to the back of Dean’s thigh and he squeaks--apparently Cas likes that noise because an avalanche of more pinches follow. 

Dean doesn’t expect him to find that devastating spot near his armpit on the first fucking try, but Cas is full of surprises and Dean is full of laughter. He clamps his arms to his sides but it barely makes a difference. Fireworks overwhelm his nervous system. In Cas’s arms, he feels like he’s flying--but he can’t tell if it’s the lack of air or the endolphins. Endorphins. Whatever. 

“Cas!” His name floats out of Dean, blanketed in crinkly-eyed, heartwarming laughter. It’s all he wants to hear for the rest of eternity. 

“You are everything to me.” Cas doesn’t expect Dean to hear him over his near-violent giggles, but Dean squeezes his wrist twice to acknowledge him where his voice can’t. His fingers slow, gently trailing over pinkened skin, and Dean slowly remembers how to breathe. 

“We can renegotiate the name thing. Maybe,” Dean wheezes, and his shit-eating grin is nearly audible. Cas rolls his eyes and scribbles at Dean’s exposed hip, following each turn, twist, and twitch. For the first few moments, he’s concerningly quiet, only squirming with strangled noises, but within seconds his laughter catches back up with his brain and he’s cackling into the mattress. 

“Maybe? Is that your final answer?”

“Nonono, please Cas!” Dean shrieks, kicking his legs as if it will help. He flails all the way to the edge of the bed but Cas is quick to pull him back into his arms. His tickly touch turns calming in an instant, tracing over muscle lines and battle scars as they both resettle. 

“We’ll work on it. Together.” Cas flips him over and steals a quick kiss, drinking up the leftover laughter. Dean’s joy is sweet on his tongue. 

“Together,” Dean murmurs, leaning their foreheads together. 

Holding his lover—Castiel, his Castiel—in the moonlight is all that Dean Winchester-Novak could ever ask for.

There was happiness in the having, after all. 

[ironphilosopherbread]

Never Fade Away Lyric Interpretation

This is my interpretation of Samurai song Never Fade Away. I think most of the meanings are obvious and are said by other but I just wanted to write it all down. If someone has their own interpretations, please share!

As I understand, the song in original tabletop game was written by Johnny after the death of Alt, but lyrics also apply to events in 2077. So,  I will analyze it by using 2 different timeframes: past (Johnny’s relationship with Alt) and present (Johnny’s relationship with V).

I saw in you what life was missing

You lit a flame that consumed my hate

I'm not one for reminiscing but

I'd trade it all for your sweet embrace

 PAST: so, imagine Johnny, a young man who just returned from the war where besides all horrors, he also had to witness how his friend sacrificed his life for Johnny's. He is depressed. He suffers from PTSD. And everything around him seems grim: world controlled by corporations, people living only for "bread and games". He becomes full of misery and anger. V puts it best: "I was so full of anger, I couldn't breathe". And there was Alt - flame that consumed his hate. But by the time of this song is written, she is dead. And Johnny feels he would trade everything for getting her back, so she would calm his hatred one more time.

 PRESENT: I think the situation with V and Johnny is very similar to Alt and Johnny. The difference is that Alt calmed Johnny with her love. Meanwhile, in 2077 Johnny is in the back seat as a passenger and V is a driver. V forces Johnny to calmed down and watch the world as it is, to rethink his mistakes and decisions by simply being in control. Also, the lyrics "I'd trade it all for your sweet embrace" could fit Temperance ending as Johnny would be willing to die, if that means V could live; sweet embrace in this case being their friendship.

Cause we lost everything

We had to pay the price

 PAST and PRESENT: Johnny wanted too much. He rebelled against the gods of 21st century - corporations. And for that he had to pay a price and lose everything Alt, his life, freedom and even identity.  V also loses everything for the same reason, for trying to rebel against order, and for that they paid with the life of a friend, their own life and identity.  

There's a canvas with two faces

Of fallen angels who loved and lost

It was a passion for the ages

And in the end guess we paid the cost

 PAST: canvas could symbolize immortality, as even when those depicted on it die, their portraits stay for centuries - they do not age, they do not die. Two angels are Alt and Johnny. They are symbols of something good and pure that had become eternal. And yet they had to pay a price for their love.

 PRESENT: very similar yet again. Johnny and V both are something good in the dark place that is Night City. And they both lost something they loved. In their case "passion for the ages" could be passion for life and dreams. And here again, they both paid a price for that.

A thing of beauty - I know

Will never fade away

What you did to me - I know

Said what you had to say

But a thing of beauty

Will never fade away

 PAST: Now let's talk about Johnny's relationships and what 3 most important people in his life symbolize. Kerry - Johnny's best friend with who he shared love for music (Kerry = love for music); Rogue - Johnny's lover who he saw as mirror image of him for her love for freedom and rebellion (Rogue = love for rebellion); Alt - also Johnny's lover, but in her case she is the opposition to Johnny's rebellious nature. She is clear mind that protects us, so we would not do stupid and impulsive decisions. She calms us down.  She is will and desire to live. And with life comes music and rebellion or more simply - everything that is beautiful (Alt = love for beauty). And when Johnny says: "What you did to me - I know/ Said what you had to say"; it is reminder to him of all the arguments, all the things Alt has told him, all she taught him, how she changed him or more importantly, how her death changed him. What is more, Alt’s death also took beauty from Jonny’s life and he got back to the same state he was when he got back from war. And worst of all, is that she will never fade away from his memory or heart. She will always be doubt and reminder of his failure, but also his love for beauty.

(Interestingly, Alt indeed never fades. Literally. Her body dies, but her mind stays internal as an A.I.)

 PRESENT: Ironically, in V's eyes, it is Johnny that is a thing of beauty. Someone who, besides being a jerk, is a naive idealist who hopes for better future and who seeks changes. "What you did to me - I know/ Said what you had to say” shows how much Johnny changed V, how Johnny's words made V rethink their values and life goals, maybe their view of the world. And even when they are separated, Johnny's words stay with V, shape them. It works both ways in Temperance ending, where Johnny is changed by V and it is V, who will never fade away from Johnny's memory.

I see your eyes, I know you see me

You're like a ghost how you're everywhere

I am your demon never leaving

A metal soul of rage and fear

 PAST: ok, this is my favorite part. So, after death of Alt, Johnny feels guilt, he sees her everywhere; he is obsessed with thoughts of her. Her death, one more time ignites his hatred for corporations and fear of inevitable, grim future.

 PRESENT: here lyrics take more literal meaning. Johnny has basically become V's conscience. No matter what V does, they feel judged by Johnny, his eyes see everything. While Johnny himself feels more like a demon, a parasite that depends on V for survival. And all he has left are rage and fear.

That one thing that changed it all

That one sin that caused the fall

 PAST: Here it gets interesting as I am not sure of what sin Johnny speaks of. It could be pride. His pride to rebel against gods (Arasaka) that end in fall. But it could also be Johnny's rage. Rage also stimulated rebellion. It brought rush decisions that cost Alt's life.

 PRESENT: Here, it seems that it was either pride or greed that made V to steal from gods and it caused their fall.

And I'll do my duty - I know

Somehow I'll find a way

But a thing of beauty

Will never fade away

And I'll do my duty

Yeah

We'll never fade away

 PAST: so, Alt is dead, what is there left to live for but revenge? Johnny can monologue as much as he wants about his hatred for Arasaka and corporations. By the end of the day, he himself admits, he did all that for Alt. But as she symbolizes life and beauty, Johnny's revenge can also symbolize a fight against corruption. In the end, blinded by grief, rage and fear Johnny saw destruction of Arasaka as his duty. And he had to find a way to do that. By destroying Arasaka, he believed he will make a world a better place and for that he will be remembered. So here, lyrics change, from "will never fade" aka Alt will never fade away to "we'll never fade" as they, Johnny and Alt, will never fade away.

 PRESENT: here lyrics take more personal meaning. Now, Johnny's duty is to save V and he must find a way to do that. By living in the head of V, he realized that he did not manage to change the world and that he became forgotten. But if he can do one more thing, make at least one thing right he will save this little stupid merc, so at least he would not fade away from their memory. Here "We'll never fade away" suits The Sun ending the best. I think in this ending V has become most similar to Johnny of all endings. They became something of a student of Johnny and they are also a living legend. So, no matter what, V and what is left of Johnny inside of V, will never fade away.

[redantsunderneath]

DC COMICS: Incoherence as Not-a-Bug-but-a-Feature (Spoilers for Batman 89-100)

Due to the emergence of the new Batman villain character Punchline, I wound up buying the last 12 issues of Batman and reading them in a single sitting. I’ve had trouble following DC comics for a while, constantly feeling that they were in trouble since back in the mid 2000s (with a glimmer of hope here and there). The act of reading DC comics has been a frustrating experience, where individual good stories and runs were laying around in the context of a lot of things that didn’t make sense while the company’s thrust felt chaotic and ideas not well blended. Every status quo change seemed hard to figure out the rules of enough to parse the context.  We’ll get into the background of this, but my reading today of this extended stretch of comics that keeps losing the plot in favor of a fever dream of what’s happening at the moment with specific characters that refuse to cohere, it became obvious that what I had been looking at as subtext or critique was actually the text. I could see the messed up trees but was missing the the forest the universe was trying to describe.

What happens in these issues (Batman current series 89-100, I missed the beginning of the first of 2 arcs) is rolling war between the major Batman villains and the heroes (plus Harley Quinn and Catwoman), which shifts into a Joker and Joker adjacent vs. all as the Joker double crosses everyone then manages to steal Bruce Wayne’s fortune.  We meet 3 new baddies – Underbroker, whose schtick is putting ill-gotten gains beyond the reach of the legal system (with an explicit line to rich globalists drawn), the Designer, who back in the day offered the four A list Batman villains plans to achieve what they most wanted, and Punchline, who is your toxic ex’s new millennial GF who really has it in for you (there is also a new good guy Clownhunter, which is a whole different thing, and a new costumed detective that predates Batman).  This doesn’t convey the chaotic nature of what is happening issue to issue, but there’s more than one Batman hallucinogenic spirit quest, dead characters ostensibly walking around, a plan revolving around the Bat’s origin story that tells some version of it several times, and a no-nonsense declaration that the Joker, as the Devil of the Batman spiritual system, cannot die.   The whole thing has the effect of convincing you there is no definitive sequence of events, only versions.

Alan Moore’s Killing Joke is not a favorite of mine, for a number of reasons.  But the ending holds up.  The Joker has done terrible things there is no antecedent for, and Batman wonders aloud if this never-ending dance they do ends in anything but both of their deaths; can they uncouple from the unhealthy duality the cycle of which simply repeats.  The Joker responds, well, with a joke about two lunatics trying to escape an asylum.  One jumps the roof to the next building, while the other is too scared to try.  The escapee offers to hold a light while the other crosses on a beam but he says no, no you’ll just cut the light while I’m half way across.  This not very funny joke nonetheless has a bunch of resonances – BM and Joker as conspiring co inmates, BM wanting to break out, a commentary about their natures (almost a reversal of the frog and scorpion story where the scorpion won’t go because he knows how this ends), but mostly it implicates BM as the one who is enabling the cycle, the reason why it won’t end.  They both laugh uproariously, and the ambiguous final panels can be read as the fundamental realization of his complicity causing BM to kill J.  A lethal joke indeed… except, next month, we see the both of them again.  In broader context, the ceaseless cycle of the diad is reaffirmed.  This has been hellaciously sticky as an idea in the Batmen universe.

My realization of what DC has been doing is pretty banal in its pieces. Marvel has “ground level” heroes while DC has a mythos, a pantheon.  Their archetypal makeup is strong, the seven JLA members lining up with the pantheon of Greek gods and the Chakras weirdly closely.  DC has big characters that are somewhat flat which they can use tell big bold individual stories that are cool the way legends and fables are cool. But these stories require bold strokes that a bit incompatible with each other. People get attached to these iterations. Meanwhile, Marvel trucks in soap operas where the characters give you an empathetic stand in and are narratively flexible. Marvel events are usually about the writer vs. the company, asking you to sympathize or deconstruct the creative impulse amid efforts to impose control or order.  DC’s events are about editorial vs. the audience, the shapers vs. the forces of the world.  It may seem obvious, given this description, that DC’s focus is on an archetypal tableau though it may be less obvious that this tableau is under extreme pressure from expectations when trying to tell ongoing tales month in, month out (or semi-monthly in some cases). The stories are constantly compared against the big stories that have gone before, and the audience’s ideas of the characters exert pressure to push them in directions that capture “the” version they believe in.  This circle is not possible to square.

DC and Marvel both have a multiverse of sorts.  DC used to tell “Elseworlds” stories which were later tucked into pocket universes.  DC invented crossing over between “realities.”  DC’s continuity is heavy baggage and they began to have “Crises” to resolve the narrative incompatibilities.  These only made things worse as you can’t get rid of the past people have a relationship with – it will come back.  Now you have to explain that away too.  Marvel just lets it lay – forget about the iffy stories, they count, sure, just no one is ever going to talk about them unless they have an angle.  Marvel continuity is all angles and amnesia. This is just easier to do with dating and rent and your ancient aunt’s medical bills than with Gods. Marvel’s multiverse is about sandboxes that you can always dump into the mainframe if they work (and never really mention the sandbox again).

There is a shift that occurred in the industry in the 2004 to 2005 era that is less remarked upon than many upheavals in comic’s history. Marvel had gone through a period of incredible new idea generation in the early 2000s after a late 90s creative cratering but had just fired the pro wrestling inflected soul of that moment (Bill Jemas).  DC was coming off of a period of trying to do moderately updated versions of what they basically been doing all along. The attitude was “yeah we’re under stress from the combined history of these characters, but we got to keep telling the stories.” Geoff Johns was one voice of DC over the 99-04 period that showed potential - he seemed to get how to find the core of characters and push them into a new in sync directions if they over the years have lost a clear identity.  But mostly he had internalized a basic schism between something mean that the audience wanted, and something good and wholesome about the characters themselves, and figured out how to mess around with this in a equilibrating fashion.

Interestingly, the ignition point of the main forces that were going to blow DC over the next decade and a half was a comic that had virtually nothing to do with any of those main forces. Brad Meltzer, a novelist, was hired to do a comic called Infinity Crisis, which sold extremely well and was, justifiably or not, recognized as an event.  At the same time, everyone also kind of hated it because the dark desires of some DC fans were pushed forward just a bit too much for comfort and for a comic with Crisis in the name it didn’t do a whole lot other than “darken” things.  Nonetheless, this lit an “event” fire at both companies.  Marvel chose a shake up the status quo for a year, then do it again, pattern and was off to the races (I have written about this, and more, here) while continuing its Randian framing of beleaguered do-gooders opposed by rule making freedom haters.

As this was playing out, Dan Didio quietly took power in DC Editorial.  His outlook was more Bloomian – he seemed to spark off of writers who exhibited anxiety of influence. He recognized Johns was the one person they had could be promoted into something of a universe architect, starting work on two key projects from which the rest would evolve. The first, was bringing back Hal Jordan as Green Lantern and diffracting the GL universe into its own symbolic system, with parts frisson-ing other parts, and almost a Magic the Gathering color scheme of ideas. The other was to build up to Infinite Crisis, which would become the model for most of their universe changing events until the present day.

The basic frame is this: DC heroes want to be good (in a sense of their inherent nature) but forces outside form a context that makes them fall.  It’s a very gnostic universe, DC.  They  examine reflections of the concepts, invent scapegoats for certain tendencies (see Superboy Prime as entitled fanboy, Dr. Manhattan as editors that try and fail to mend things, etc), make characters violate principles, rehabilitate them, then show that the world if anything is more broken than before.  This is kind of Johns’ thing and it fits Didio’s narrative as historicval tension fetish.  But then came Scott Snyder (not to be confused with Zack) who began to work on Batman in 2011.  Since then, as much as Justice League is pushed as the central title and Lex Luthor has been pimped, Batman has been the core of the universe and the Joker the core villain.

Snyder had the same continuity conflict wavelength but was significantly more meta and able to contain multitudes than Johns.  He was the first to make an explicit mystery of how there could be several Jokers around at one time (who are the same but not, he posited 3 – man, Christians!) that seems prescient given the near future coexistence of filmic Jokers that are not able to be resolved.  I believe he was the first to begin to tease out an idea – that different versions of things in comics are not a diffraction or filter effect, a using the set of things that work best for that story and leaving the rest, but are a matter of the archetypal system of the audience coming apart. From an in story perspective what appears to happen is that multiple versions of incompatible things exist in the collective unconscious of the continuing narrative, and this is something that the characters may become conscious of.  

The run I just read is written by James Tynion IV building on the above trends.  The trick seems to be going all in on the Jungian aspect (at Jung’s most religiously epiphanic).  The Designer was a progenitor and adversary to Batman’s predecessor and his intellectual approach eventually defeated the detective… broke him.  At some point in early Batman history, the Designer brought the top four Bat-baddies together and offered each, in turn, a plan to achieve what they most desired: the Riddler, a way to achieve an empire of the mind; the Penguin, power; and Catwoman, money.  They are all elated as they await the Joker to come out.  The Joker emerges with a furious Designer on his heals and promptly shoots him dead.  He explains that he didn’t like his joke in the form of a fable – the devil offered four people the path to their greatest desire: the three chose earthly things, but the Joker’s wish was to be him, to become the devil.  The story proceeds to suggest that the Joker just exists, he is present as a necessary component in the system.   You can kill him, yet he is alive.

DC has been using physics metaphors for the nature of their reality since Flash of Two Worlds in 1963.  The multiverse as a continuity concept was their idea and the holographic universe of the hypertime was a thing.  It seems like since Dan Didio took over, they’ve been heading towards a concept of broad superimposition, of measurement effect being weak, of the universe being like a quantum computer with all possibilities coexisting and the story instantiating not one reality but a path through all the possible ones.  By making Batman trip balls through quite a few issues and relive his origin from different angles, the story is one of its own instability and the heroic task that confronts our hero is attempting to actualize the world.  The Joker is the Devil in the sense of lack of fixed meaning, of relativistic chaos, of the world not making sense because it’s unmoored nature with ultimately no knowability.  Batman, in this story, functions as a postmodern knight crusading against the impossibility of epistemological grounding.

There’s more going on, sure.  One plot is, literally, defund Batman.  There is rioting, people brainwashed by being exposed to toxic ether, people paid to go to theaters even though they will die as a result, and questions about neoliberalism similar to that one Joker movie. Punchline has no personality yet (Tynion’s not the best at that) but she serves well as a generational foil for Harley – a rudderless ideological vacuum susceptible to Joker-as-idea-virus rather than an unfulfilled MD who felt alienated due to the structures of her life and was seeking escape into structureless possibility.  The Designer stuff is both continuity play (See why they changed from goofy villains to more “realistic” ones! Look how pulp heroes informed superheroes!), a comment on the nature of a longstanding narrative (strong intentions die out as Brownian motion overwhelms momentum), and a lawful evil/chaotic evil setup of the dualism of apocalypses (overdetermined authoritarian vs. center does not hold barbarism).  But the thing that ties this to the past decade and a half of DC is the sense that the reality is fluid and susceptible to change or outright s’cool incompatibility.

This is different than other flavors of meta in superhero comics.  Grant Morrison believes the archetypes are stronger than the forces that seek to bend them.  Alan Moore wants you to deconstruct your sacred cows and probably hates you personally.  Marvel might play with self-awareness, but effortlessly resolves inconsistencies after it’s finished playing.  DC, at this point, allows you to watch the waves solidfy into symbols and dissolve, and the constant confusion and lack of grounding is more of a choice then I thought this time yesterday.  The conflict theory of DC reality has been in full swing but this looks to be turning towards a kind of Zen historicism, holding contradictory things in your mind at once. Warren Ellis’ JLA/Authority book is the nearest comparable text I can think of. I need to call this, but I didn’t even talk about Death Metal, DC character multiplicity as meta-psychosis event extraordinaire.  Comics just keep getting weirder.

[deans-mind-palace]

Conversations in the Dark

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Summary: Nothing’s real what happens in the dark. That’s what your mother told you about nightmares. But you’re hunter and you know that nightmares exist in the daylight, too. Your relationship with Cas isn’t always easy. However, in moments of doubt it’s good you have each other. Because that’s all that really matters.

Word Count: 2,496

Warnings: A lot of angst, fluff and some snoring Winchesters

Author’s Note: This fic is based on the new song ‚Conversations in the dark‘ by John Legend. It is a present for the 200 followers celebration. Show it some love. <3

Like always, my tag lists are OPEN!!!

Wanna read more? Have a look here: Masterlist

"So guys, that's it. We're all exhausted and there's no motel the next few miles. Guess, we have to stop here." Dean announced as he drove the Impala off the road and into a parking lot. The gravel crunched under the tires as soon as the car came to a halt and the engine purred until Dean pulled the key out of the ignition hole and ran over his eyes in exhaustion. The radio died down and for a moment there was silence in the car. Sam yawned and tried to fold his long legs comfortably in the passenger seat. Another night he had to spend sitting. Alone at the thought of the back pain he pulled a face. Dean stretched out his legs and leaned back in his seat as best he could. Cas sat with you in the back seat. You were as exhausted as the two brothers and could only keep your eyes open with difficulty. Your head rested on Cas' shoulder for some time. Gently his deep voice reached you.

"Come on, Y/N. You're tired, let's get some sleep." When he said "us", he really meant you, because the angel did not sleep. But since your relationship he had gotten into the habit of spending the nights with you, even if that meant he had to fold up with three other people in a car just to be at your side. You gave him a tired smile when you finally lay on the seats. The bench was not very broad and Cas held you tightly wrapped so you wouldn't slide into the footwell. Soon you had found a more or less comfortable position. Your legs were entangled and his hand rested on your back, while he pressed you against his chest. His chin rested against your forehead and your hands lay on his chest. He smiled at you through the darkness and his stubble scratched your skin. His teeth shone bright in the darkness. From the front seats you could already hear the brothers' steady breathing. They were fast asleep.

Talk Let's have conversations in the dark World is sleeping, I'm awake with you With you Watch Movies that we've both already seen I ain't even looking at the screen, it's true I got my eyes on you

You sighed contentedly and your gaze slipped out of the window of the Impala. While lying down, you could see the bright stars in the night-black sky. You were so far away from the nearest town that the sky was perfectly clear. Purple, pink and blue blended into a single work of art, interwoven with small white stars. "Cas. Look! Look at the stars! Aren't they beautiful?" you breathed happily and he could clearly hear the admiration in your voice. You beamed at the sight of the stars. Cas hummed. He had not even looked out the window. His eyes were only on you. How beautiful you looked. How the moon cast a shadow over your face and made your skin shine silvery. How your eyes sparkled in the dark and you bit your lip. "Hm, right." he muttered, but his gaze never left your face.

And you say that you're not worth it You get hung up on your flaws Well, in my eyes you are perfect As you are

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than the night sky? Anything more magical?" you asked as you continued to dreamily look up at the stars. Cas knew God's creation by heart. He had seen the stars countless times before, he was there when they were created. They were beautiful, but they could not keep up with you. You were the most beautiful thing God had ever created and he was grateful for every day he was allowed to spend at your side. You cast a spell over Cas with your very own magic. "Nothing is more beautiful than the stars," you whispered into the silence with fascination. "Yes, you," he replied honestly and his voice rumbled deep in his chest. You looked at the angel and smiled. "Charmeur." Your fingers gently stroked his cheek before kissing him. Your hand found his and you crossed your fingers while you looked up into the stars together and hung on to your thoughts.

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart

He loved your fascination, even for the little things. With such devotion you did the things you loved. Your selflessness. You would die for him or the brothers without hesitation. Your silence. You could sit for hours during a thunderstorm in a rundown hotel room, staring out the window, lost in thought, with his head in your lap and your fingers gently combing through his brown hair, while a pleasant silence reigned and you listened to nature. After a failed hunt you would tell him stories from your childhood until he would lie calmly with you in his arms. Even if that meant you had to make up stories. Castiel loved so many little things about you. How you would always let Dean pick the television channel to avoid a fight. How you always sang or whistled in the shower. How your nose turned up when you bit into a slice of your favorite pizza.

You were perfect. And Castiel loved you for who you were. "What's your greatest secret, Cas?" you asked, turning your head so your beautiful eyes met him. You looked at him questioningly. Cas didn't have to think long. "That I love you." And with a smile on his face, he watched you frown at that answer. "But it's no secret. Dean and Sam know." you muttered, and your eyes looked at him big and innocent. He laughed softly at your amazement. "That's right. But only I will ever know how much I really love you, because words don't even begin to describe it." The angel gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. You loved it when Cas was like that. It was a side of Castiel that was reserved for you, that he showed only to you. Only with you was this quiet angel so open and soulful. Only with him did you feel complete.

Suddenly a shooting star was streaming across the dark night sky. You closed your eyes and made a wish. "What is your greatest wish, sweetheart?" mumbled Cas near your ear and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. You embarrassingly bit your lip and avoided his gaze. "I - no, it's silly. It was a stupid wish I shouldn't have made. Forget it." You shook your head and looked ahead at your sleeping brothers as you felt Cas's fingers gently lift your chin and turn it towards him. "If this is your wish, it can't be stupid, Y/N." His blue eyes searching for yours and you saw the seriousness in them. You swallowed nervously and nodded slightly. You'd never told anybody about your biggest dream. Not even the person you loved most on this earth.

On Sunday mornings we sleep-in 'til noon Well, I can sleep forever next to you Next to you And we We got places we both gotta be But there ain't nothing I would rather do Then blow off all my plans for you

"I wish the apple pie life for us, Cas. I wish it so much. We could travel the country like normal people and stay in a place we like. We'll look for a little house in a beautiful area where the neighbours have barbecues and celebrate the Fourth of July together. We could make the house cosy and I could grow yellow tea roses in the front garden. Maybe we would have a dog. And a spacious kitchen where we could cook together. Maybe we could plant tomatoes in the garden. And never motel beds again! We'd have our own cozy bedroom. On rainy days we wouldn't even get up, but just listen to the rain pattering against the windows while I'm in your arms. On Sundays, we'd sleep in and I'd make us pancakes." As you talked, Cas closed his eyes and imagined every single scene you described.

How Cas carried you over the threshold of a small house and your eyes sparkled with joy. How your face and hands were encrusted with dirt, yet you grinned at him broadly. How you lay in his arms and his gaze followed the raindrops running down the window. How you stood in his shirt in the kitchen in the morning, making a mess to make pancakes.

There were scenes that put a smile on his face and he felt his heart longed for this life. It was a life you could never have, but with you at his side he dared to dream. He dared for a moment to give himself to the illusion of a normal life.

When Cas opened his eyes again, he saw other stars fall from the sky. Shooting stars were speeding across the sky. It was a night of the wishes.

And you say that you're not worth it And get hung up on your flaws But in my eyes you are perfect As you are As you are

If you were honest, you didn't know what you were wishing for. Like so many hunters of the supernatural, you had never led a normal life and had no idea what you were talking about. You noticed that Cas' smile slipped a little when you first made your wish. Of course it was bullshit. That's why you kept your wish to yourself. You swallowed. It was just one of your nonsense, that's all.

It wasn't the first time that you realized that you would never be married or have children. On some days the thought of spending the rest of your life with salt and corpses seemed unbearable. There would never be a normal life for you. Your boyfriend was an angel. A powerful, superhuman being who could end your life with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. Cas would never be able to live like a human being. He was immortal, you just a human. You would not grow old together. His body would age, but his spirit could not decompose. One day, you would die, and Castiel would be left behind alone. The thought would make your heart contracted in pain. Cas read your mind, and he pulled you closer.

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart

"I'm sorry I can't be the one you want me to be. That I can't give you the life you want to live." You looked at him with those big eyes. "And if you want me to go, I will, Y/N. All you have to do is send me away because I'm not strong enough. But it's selfish to take away your chance at a normal life." His voice trembled. "Cas, don't you ever say that again, do you hear me?" you said startled. "But-" You gently put your finger on his lips, and he looked at you insecurely as he fell silent. "My life is not normal, Castiel. Never has been, never will be. But, Cas, any life is a good life as long as you're by my side. I love you, and I would never want to change anything about you. You are my angel. Literally. Don't let them tell you different." He nodded hesitantly.

"All these things. They mean nothing to me if it means you're not by my side. That we have moments like this." Your hand was on Cas' chest above his heart and you felt the excited pounding beneath. He pressed a kiss against your temple and together you looked up at the stars again. "I wouldn't trade this moment of lying here with you, philosophizing about life as we contemplate the stars, for anything in the world. You are what matters, Cas. You make my life worth living, Castiel. Don't break my heart," you whispered softly into the darkness of the night, as if the stars could hear your words and carry them out into the world, until the last man knew that you and the angel were one.

When no one seems to notice And your days, they seem so hard My darling, you should know this My love is everywhere you are

"You know I'll always be with you and go with you every step of the way. I will follow you wherever you go. I'll look at the stars with you until the end of time if that's what you want." Suddenly he looked embarrassed and your fingers were combing through his brown hair. For a moment there was silence between you, while you waited for Cas' next words. From the front seats still sounded faint breathing and Dean murmured softly as he turned.

"I'm happy as long as you are." He finally said. His warm breath brushed across your ear and made you shiver. His deep voice echoing in your mind. "And I am happy when you are by my side. Until the end of time." "Until the end of time," the angel repeated, intertwining your fingers over his heart with his.

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart

For some time you remained lying there in the silence and enjoyed the closeness of the other. Until dawn you looked at the stars shooting across the sky. You made wishes for the well-being of Cas, Dean and Sam. It was night of the wishes, after all, and tonight everything seemed to be possible. Maybe your wishes would be heard. You watched the sky change from deep black to stormy blue to dreamy purple to soft pink to fiery orange. It was the image of your feelings. The light of the stars faded as a new day began. And it was a good day because Castiel was with you and every day with Castiel was a good day. Because it had been a silent promise.

I won't break your heart

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[claude-frollo-archives]

Imposed Fate

Imposed Fate A Count Duckula Story

Chapter 1. Prelude of a Nightmare

       One fateful date, Tuesday 7 April 1870, Richter Von Gosling, a student of the arts of healing, decided to visit Transylvania in order to shed light upon a mysterious and disquieting subject, which was a case of vampirism. Legends and stories about the undead had the young scholar read before, yet he remained  sceptical, until his colleague and confidant Reinfelt witnessed an attack by one of those creatures, and not an ordinary one but Count Duckula himself, a feudal Lord supposed to be dead centuries ago. Despite of the absurdity of the notion, Richter was not to doubt his friend; therefore, he had to investigate in more detail about this terrible menace and put it to rest.

   The evening of Gosling's arrival, a thunderstorm loomed above the village, the weather cold and windy but rain was not to fall yet. Not a soul could be found wandering on the streets, there was a sense of quietude, a preface of the storm that soon would be unleashed over the town. Despite the feeling of impeding peril, inside the public house 'Ye Tooth and the Jugular' the mood appeared to be festive, with the regular crowd assembled for a pint or two, regardless the tragedies of life. In this place, the scholar found refuge as well as some more information concerning the malevolent aristocrat provided by the innkeeper and the parishioners. Gosling thought the recently gained knowledge would be enough to prepare a scheme to destroy the vampire.

    During the following days, the scientist worked in the development of a mechanism designed to shoot a wooden stake but cleverly set inside a camera. When the contraption was completed, the gander headed towards Castle Duckula, an ominous fortress that oversaw the village from atop a hill. Presenting himself as a photographer from a newspaper, Gosling attempted to gain access to the castle and destroy the Count; these actions would end the suffering of the villagers and bring peace to Transylvania. No time was wasted once he entered the Castle. Introductions were quick, the battle between Count Duckula and Von Gosling finished as quickly as it started and not even Igor -faithful manservant of the undead Count- was able to interfere. However, due the thrilling sensation of triumph, the scientist returned to the town without realizing that the stake managed to harm Duckula, but it failed to stab through the Count's heart.

    "Got him, the vampire is destroyed! ..." Exclaimed the deluded scholar as he rushed his way back to the village bellow, eager to tell what he assumed to be good news. "... The beast is no more!"

     Meanwhile, the Count lied motionless on the stone ground. Igor knelt beside his defeated master, lifting the wounded vampire on both his arms. "... Master, Master! ..." The old vulture sobbed in anguish, fearing this to be the last hour.

   "... Is all right, Igor! …" Duckula replied as he rose to his feet, dusting and straightening his suit jacket. Praised the Abyss, his Lordship was not slaughter, much to Igor's relief. "It was just a mere scratch …" The Count added with anger on his raspy voice. "... But he shall pay for this ... he shall pay!" He growled and proceeded to concentrate his energy in order to cast a spell. "... Come here, to my aid, oh winds of north, I summon your powers---…"

   "Milord... if I may be so bold to provide advice... I must remind his Lordship that the appropriate way to conjure for the assistance of this element, Sire, would be quite simpler: ‘come gust of wind and be wild’… Brief but no less effective, of course" Igor admonished his Master on the proper casting of dark incantations.

   "Thank you Igor, I had almost failed to remember that part … Anyway, you had already cast the spell, so you have heard it wind, obey our demand and be wild!" With that, the Count cackled with cruel glee, an aura appeared to surround his frame and a red spark was ignited on both his eyes, like flames of fire as he began to transform, while outside the fortress, gust of heavy wind gathered to form a dreadful tempest.

   Oblivious of the dangers ahead, Gosling stormed into the tavern. "… Is done!--- The vampire--- destroyed! ..." The gander addressed the landlord, though he was out of breath and could barely articulate a word.

    "What do you mean, young man?" The perplexed innkeeper questioned, while three peasants seated on a corner enjoying their last drink of the night, just had to listen and stare with curiosity.

    "… ... What I am trying to say is that the vampire fiend is no more!---..." Gosling recomposed before resuming his speech in a serious tone. "... The Count now rests in peace, finally there would be no more suffering ... is over." He softly stated, honestly believing that evil was successfully vanquished.

   A tense silence filled the inn until one of the peasants reacted. "... That is impossible!" He muttered in disbelief. "… Count Duckula defeated, requiring no effort?!" Added the landlord in dismay. "Yes, on the times past, I know the tale, the vampire was destroyed... but he was cornered by a group of vampire slayers! When we talked about the Count, I never thought you would attempt something so stupid, what have you done, lad?!"

   Gosling was completely appalled, realising something must have gone wrong and to learn that the Count was previously overcame, then who was this Duckula he had just met?! However, before the scholar was able to find his voice, the farmer seated near the window screamed in fear. "He is leaving the Castle! ..." Every fowl residing at the hostelry turned to the window. They saw the rainstorm and a giant bat flying from the castle in direction of the village. In matter of few minutes, chaos settled on the town: the wind destroyed some of the houses, demolishing the roofs of the buildings. Duckula on his bat form attacked people running outside in a futile attempt to seek shelter from the storm; others tried to escape the wooden debris carried by the whirlwind, people cried in panic, the peaceful slumber of the village residents turned into a nightmare.

   "Where are you, my dear Gosling?! Not so brave to defeat me?! ..." The evil laugh from the Count could be heard amid the commotion. "... Come, come out to play, do not make me wait!"

    "I am afraid he is calling for you!" Exclaimed the innkeeper’s wife who stood on top of the staircase, from there she threw Gosling’s luggage; the two suitcases landed loudly at his feet. "If you have any respect for anything sacred, get out of my house! ..." She ordered furiously, pointing to the main door of the hostel. "... Away with you!"

   "Wait, please!--- I don't understand! …" Gosling stammered. "My intentions were honourable; I was only trying to be of aid!”

    "Yeah, thank you for your help, you just made everything worse for our village!" Retorted an angry peasant. "Why did you have to mess with the Count?! Now his wrath is unstoppable, he would go on rampage until sunrise and is all your fault!"

   "I did try to do something, while you appear to accept this fate without resistance, why you don't fight back? For what reason you would even stay in a place like this?!" Although the scientist's response came out with a hint of defiance, in truth there was guilt within his heart.

   "Because this is our home, foolish lad! …" Replied the proprietress without hesitation. "We shall not abandon our land! If someone has to leave, that would be you!”

   "Very well said, Madam! Now you, go away!" A peasant urged Gosling to walk out the inn. "Hope he eats you, better you than us!"

   "Came on folks…" The landlord interceded. "… Don’t be cruel with the outsider, he couldn't know any better, after all he is only a boy."

   "… Oh nein, I am not! I will show you, I … I shall stop that fiend at once!"

    "No, if you go out he will kill you!---..." The innkeeper warned but he was unheard. Von Gosling stepped out the tavern and the sight of destruction and the monstrous vampire bat, rendered him to freeze in fright. However, the landlord had followed him and he placed the travel cases on Gosling's hands. "Come on, son … I wish I never told you about the Count." He said with regret and grabbing the young doctor by the arm, he led him to the back door of the tavern despite protest of the parishioners but some of them were to agree on the fact that at the present it would be for the best to escape.

    "I don't care if this is the land where I was born!--- The stranger was right--- I don't want to die!" Despaired one of the farmers as he hurried out to prepare a cart and soon enough, several of the town's people had joined him. Before Gosling was able to object, the innkeeper pushed him inside the stagecoach. From above, Duckula witnessed these actions and he was utterly amused. The giant bat could deliver an attack directly towards the doctor, given how easy was to detect him due his antiquated attire and the camera he was carrying; still, he interfered not for he had mused a greater plan since the instant he laid his eyes on Von Gosling. "That mortal had come to face me--- he failed no doubt, but he arrived on his own choice ... or maybe was it a design of fate? ..." The creature growled quietly. "... Nevertheless, I detected on him no greed for a reward or a desire of fame, not even a wish for vengeance ... What a disgusting attitude! However ... Could it be?---.... ... I wonder... ..."

   In the meantime, the doctor was still unable to fathom the burden he would be carrying now that the threads of fate had been tampered with. ".... Sir., oh please I---... I thank you ..." Gosling at last found his voice to express gratitude to the innkeeper. "... I will be praying Gott for your souls until I am able to come back---..."

   "Prayers?! ... Don't trouble yourself, it would be of no use" Said one of the villagers, quietly and embittered. "... God have forgotten about us."

   "That cannot be true! I shall pray for you all, our Lord will never forget His children!" Gosling stated firmly as the cart began to move.

   "Well, then I pray God I will never see your face again … may He bless and keep you!" Von Gosling frowned in sadness, lowering his head upon hearing those last words from the proprietor of 'Ye Tooth and the Jugular', the man who had just saved his life.

   As the stagecoach departed from the village, Gosling silently stared at the silver cross pendant he had on his hands, a gift from his mother that now held a much more profound significance. "… So, they believe our Lord has forgotten, ja? ..." He lamented in shame and remorse; no matter his efforts or his courageous discourse, in the end he was left trembling with fear in times help was most needed, it was an absolute disgrace. "… … I am to return, this is not over yet--- this awful mistake must be corrected … I will be back; that fiend shall be destroyed, I am going to save all those souls ... is a promise!"

           Later, at the break of dawn, the Count had enough leisure time and his thirst was quenched, so he returned to his fortress. As expected, Igor was patiently waiting for his master's arrival. "Did you find that miserable mortal, Master?" Greeted the sinister butler.

    "Ah, I let him go …" Duckula replied calmly, tonelessly even, like if the latest episode were of no relevance.

   The vulture raised a brow with suspicion at the Count’s answer; after such an eventful evening, this behaviour from the master was something unforeseen. "… I am not sure, Sire … you should have taken the life of that wretched miscreant ... or perhaps brought him here to me, I could have offered that Gosling a most proper … … care."

   "Worry not, dear Igor." The Count spoke, a grin crept onto his beak. "... Amongst all the pleasant visitors we have received through these the years, this one had proven to be the most interesting opponent".

    "Oh indeed, Milord, Indeed! There is no use on finishing the fun so early …" Igor rubbed his hands in pleased anticipation of the delightfully wicked punishments he would be able to inflict over that insolent gander.

    "That is right; you got the idea, my Igor!" The Count chuckled darkly. "… He is coming back, I assure you, and I will be waiting …" Then, the vampire grabbed Igor by the necktie, pulling his head down to meet his gaze. "After all … ..." Duckula continued, lowering his voice into a threatening though gleeful snarl. "… We have plenty of time ... … … don’t we, Igor?!"

________________

This is the first chapter from an old fanfiction of mine I am re-writing (began in 2009, is 2020 not completed yet, only three chapters are ready), is an attempt to set a prequel for the Count Duckula series, based on the Dear Diary and The Rest is History episodes, a particular scene that appears on the show's intro, the Castlevania games and last but certainly not least, Dracula the novel. Posting it here now as an experiment given I have no idea how it would look like on Tumblr, and so happy to see fans of the series!

Count Duckula and the characters on this chapter belong to Cosgrove Hall.

[eluvion]

Necessary Mortality

The Fabulous Four had to be mortal. They had to die, they had to be able to take those steps into the white, blank city and never step out. They had to walk there and knock on death’s door, and death had to open it.

Party Poison had tried, for decades, to change the world. They had tried, with each tactic and plan, each careful scrape at BLi, to make their story the loudest in the sea of static. They were a leader, but they were more than that. They were the poison that BLi would choke on, and they knew it.

The thing about legends is that, in the end, they are all stories. Stories need a beginning. They need a middle. And, of course, they need an ending. 

A legend without an ending is a plant with no seeds. It lives, and it is beautiful, but nothing grows from it. When it wilts and dies and decays, there are no seeds to pick up what has been left behind.

The Phoenix Witch never dies. She is eternal. She lives in hearts and minds, but in a different way than the Fabulous Four did. She lives as a watcher, the eyes of the black raven and the howling wolves, the hand that holds onto  masks and leads their owners to the next world, the faint noise of something other in the static. But a legend is a different sort of immortal than a god is. Gods are stagnant. They have plots and plans and they interfere when they need to, but they do not save the world. The Phoenix Witch is a god, and because She is a god, She never changes the world. 

The Girl’s mother doesn’t die. She doesn’t die as a leader, and she doesn’t die as a draculoid. She has no ending, and without an ending, she has no voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers a collection of words from a long-forgotten book. “A myth without a voice is like a dandelion without a breath of wind. No way to spread the seeds.”

And so Fabulous Four needed an ending. The world needed their ending. A revolution requires blood. It requires sacrifice. Because this thing that has been built, this monument to life and death and everything that comes in between, it needs a catalyst. It needs a push. A revolution needs a spark to ignite, and no amount of kindling will ever create fire without that sputter of the first flame.

They become a legend. Their seeds are scattered in the aftermath of their deaths, a thousand memories and speeches and eulogies and art strewn across the desert, and their biggest seed resting inside the heart of the Girl. 

They have a voice to their myth and an ending to their legend. They created flames to burn Battery City to the ground. Gods are stone pillars, with power and strength and watchful eyes, but legends are sparks and sputters and flames. They burn, yes, but more importantly, they catch everything else aflame. The ashes may be their legacy, but the fire that burned long after their lives were snuffled out is the part of them that they died for. If you never die, nothing you do will change anything.

The Fabulous Four needed to die.

[itsallavengers]

Undiscovered Depths

He was going to drown. 

Bucky had told him not to jump off the shoreline cliffs like all the other kids were- that it wasn’t safe and he might get hurt, but he was fifteen now- he didn’t want to be mothered any more, and all the other kids were goddamn doing it. He was sick of staying on the sidelines and watching all his friends have fun without him. 

So he’d jumped too. 

And then his knee had hit a rock, and suddenly he’d been in agony, sinking down into the choppy depths, saltwater flooding into his throat as he’d gasped in agony. The bone had shattered, he was sure of it, and the salt was driving its way into the gash, a stinging agony. He didn’t have a hope in hell of swimming. 

They weren’t even on the city coastline- they were down south, South Carolina on vacation, and the water wasn’t easily accessible here. They’d found a secluded bay to relax on, so no one would find him. The others would know, but the water was too deep. He was going to drown. 

Oh God, he was terrified. 

Against his will, he gasped in an attempt to get some air, but nothing except water flooded into his lungs. He gagged, hair swishing into his face. He could see his own blood in the water- and hell, he’d been in some sticky situations before, but this was really it now. He was toast. 

He didn’t want to die. Fuck, fuck, fuck, his head was spinning, his leg hurt, he was going to--

Something grabbed his shoulder. 

He swivelled his head, seeing a murky body in the water, and if there had been any oxygen left, he would have breathed out in relief. That had to be one of the boys- somehow they’d managed to find him, he was going to be okay. He was probably going to be on crutches for months, but goddamn, it was better than dead.

But his friend didn’t pull him up. Instead, he swam further down and got to Steve’s level, meeting his eyes through the water. Steve couldn’t see very well- his eyesight was bad as it was, and trying to look at someone through a layer of agonising salt-water made everything ten times more difficult- but even Steve saw the strangeness of his features. He didn’t feel any familiarity when he observed the face, despite the fact it had to be one of the fellas he’d been hanging out with. 

“Breathe,” the boy said. Steve didn’t stop to think about how the fuck he could hear the voice so clearly underwater. He was too busy being stunned by the press of lips against his, a hand cupping his neck. 

Dear God, he was hallucinating. 

Steve floated, suspended in the water as the boy kissed him-- but then a second later, something ignited inside him. His lungs heaved in desperation and then joy as they received precious oxygen, and through the boy’s mouth, Steve breathed; a huge, gasping breath of air that he didn’t know how he’d gotten, but was too desperate to care.

Then the boy slipped away, and the water flooded Steve’s mouth once more, the source of air disappearing. Steve panicked, gripping his rescuer’s arm, desperate for more- but the boy simply steadied him with another hand against his face. “Don’t worry,” he said, voice silky, like honey. A moment later, he wrapped his hand around Steve’s forearm and began to swim upward, taking Steve with him. Steve was dragged up, his knee screaming in agony with every movement, but he simply gritted his teeth and waited it out, spotting the surface of the water and the light as it began to filter in through the waves.

He broke the water with a whine and a gasp, hands flailing uselessly in the water. The boy’s grip didn’t relinquish, remaining steady and firm as he pulled Steve over to a nearby rock. The hand moved from his arm to around his waist, and then with a force Steve hadn’t ever thought possible from a boy his age, he was hoisted out of the water and placed against the rock. He hissed in pain, tears sprouting in his eyes. “Fuck,” he choked, coughing up water. He saw his saviour watching him from the water and turned to him, finally able to put a name on the face that’d rescued him. 

He stared, gobsmacked, at the stranger he ended up seeing. 

It was certainly a boy, and he seemed to be of similar age to Steve, but he hadn’t travelled with them. He wasn’t a friend. How in the goddamn hell had he found Steve? What was going on?

The boy was just looking at him, almost fascinated. He cocked his head and then looked down at the blood covering Steve’s leg. “You have a wound,” he said lifting a bare arm and then pointing at Steve’s mangled leg. 

“Thank you,” Steve choked, choosing to ignore the rather obvious statement, “thank you for saving me, thank you.”

The boy looked back at him, and Steve spared a moment to take in his features. He was... he was beautiful. Full lips, sharp cheeks, and the most mesmerizingly dark-brown eyes that Steve had ever seen. “It was no problem,” the boy told him, “I was drifting by and heard you scream. I’ve never heard a human do that before. I’ve never seen a human before. I wanted to see.”

Steve blinked. A droplet of water dripped off the boy’s nose and pattered into the water around his chest. “Excuse me?”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but in that moment Steve heard panicked shouting from the other side of the rock he’d been placed on, and realised that Bucky must have realised he’d not come up from the depths. They both turned to face the noise, Steve starting up an answering call to them all. 

When he turned back, the boy looked disappointed. “I should be going,” he said morosely, “I hope your wound heals, human.”

Steve wondered whether he’d hit his head, too. He’d been called many things in his time- Human was not one of them. But, unwilling to sound rude, he sat up a little straighter and cocked his head at the boy. “What’s your name?” He asked.

Bucky’s frantic voice was getting closer. The boy smiled at him, swimming backward and leaving the rocky outcrop in order to drift back into deeper waters. 

“Anthony,” he said lightly, “but my friends call me Tony.”

And then, without warning, he twisted in the water and ducked his head down. Steve watched, everything normal until-

“No fucking way.”

Shooting up from the water for a second, Steve watched the most beautifully coloured red-and-gold tail flick through the air before plunging back down into the depths, gone with nothing but a streamlined ripple. Tony disappeared from view entirely, not coming up again, and leaving Steve on the rocks, simply staring at the patch of water he’d been in seconds before. 

No. He was concussed. That had not just happened. He had not just been saved by a beautiful merman called Tony. Merpeople... they weren’t even real, they were myths, legends.

But he’d breathed. Tony had kissed him, and Steve had breathed under the water. How was that possible?

“STEVE!” He turned. looking over at Bucky’s ashen face at the top of the rocky outcrop. “Steve, God, what the fuck happened to you?”

He blinked rapidly, looking back out to the see. It couldn’t be true. But it couldn’t be false, either. Steve was alive. That was evidence enough. 

His eyes turned back to Bucky, and he shook his head dumbly. “I have no fucking idea.”

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[genelmag]

A Fresh Take on Riot Games’ New World’s Theme: “Phoenix”

An In-depth Analysis of Phoenix, 2019’s League of Legends Hype Song

As season 9 of League of Legends comes to a close, the best of the best League players from each region to compete for a chance at the Summoner’s Cup and a prize of $2,225,000 as a new World theme song sets the tone.

This is also when the much-anticipated “Worlds Theme” is released to set the tone for the most-watched esports event, with over 100 million unique viewers worldwide.

This year, however, Riot Games fell behind schedule in their release of the League of Legends esports event theme, “Phoenix”. Riot Games apologized and explained that the delay was due to them making sure that the song was ready.

Their explanation didn’t satisfy the League community. There have even been some theories that contradict Riot’s explanation. One theory says that “Phoenix” originally included Bjergsen, the mid-laner for Team Solo Mid (TSM), but had to be removed when TSM failed to make it to worlds.

And when the song was finally released last month, many were left disappointed in the quality, believing it to be one of the weaker themes to date.

Here’s why “Phoenix” is one of the best and most powerful themes to be released.

First and foremost I want to take a moment to look at the title of the song. When you put it into context, this in itself already makes this song a masterpiece. 

What is a phoenix? A phoenix is a legendary, immortal bird, wondrous in beauty, that would ignite itself in a glorious inferno before awakening to rise up from the ashes.  Now think about that, and let’s look at the titles of songs Riot has released in the past three years:

“Ignite” - Zedd | League of Legends Worlds 2016

“Legends Never Die” (ft. Against the Current) | League of Legends Worlds 2017

“RISE” (ft. The Glitch Mob, Mako, and The Word Alive) | League of Legends Worlds 2018

“Awaken” (ft. Valerie Broussard) | League of Legends 2019 Season 9 Cinematic

In one word, “Phoenix” has recaptured the essence of the previous three seasons, and with “Awaken” setting the scene for 2019, “Phoenix” is in a good place to close out the year strong.  

Now I’ll let you all in on a little secret: even though we’ve already discussed the masterful application of the title, the way to crack this song wide open and find its beautiful message, lies all in its lyrics.  It sounds simple I know, but you’d be surprised how many people listen to songs without realizing what its lyrics are or understanding what they mean.  

"Phoenix - Riot Games ft. Cailin Russo and Chrissy Costanza What are you willing to lose? You cover your wounds, but underneath them A million voices in your head that whisper, "Stop, now" Another twist of the knife, a turn of the screws It's all in your mind and it's fighting you Arm yourself, a storm is coming Well, kid ... What you gonna do now? It's your reflection looking back to pull you down So are you gonna die today or make it out alive? You gotta conquer the monster in your head and then you'll fly Fly, Phoenix, fly It's time for a new empire Go bury your demons then tear down the ceiling Phoenix, fly And now you're playing with matches, come out of the ashes Underneath you, a million voices in the crowd they're screaming, "Stop, now" Well let 'em swallow their pride, you're turning the tide to true believers Got them in the palm of your hand, you're playing God now What you gonna do now? It's your reflection looking back to pull you down So are you gonna die today or make it out alive? You gotta conquer the monster in your head and then you'll fly Fly, Phoenix, fly It's time for a new empire Go bury your demons then tear down the ceiling Phoenix, fly So are you gonna die today or make it out alive? You gotta conquer the monster in your head and then you'll fly Fly, Phoenix, fly It's time for a new empire Go bury your demons then tear down the ceiling Phoenix, fly"

When we take time to analyze these lyrics, we very quickly see from the first verse that this entire song talks about the mental game in League of Legends.  In my opinion, at least 80% of playing LoL IS part of this mental game, while no more than 20% is actually raw, mechanical skill. Mechanics alone can net you those flashy plays that everyone gets excited to see in montages and can get you a decent way up the ranked ladder. But in order to actually set up those plays, the majority of LoL is a thinking game: being able to outsmart your opponents, engaging in macroplay, leadership, teamwork, and calling the shots to achieve victory on the rift, all while remaining untiltable.  

In the video, the song highlights three players in particular: IG Rookie (LPL), G2 Caps (LEC), and SKT T1 Faker (LCK). Of course, this song applies to everyone else as well. These three players are all mid-laners for their respective teams, and in turn, their respective regions, China, Europe, and Korea.

We also see the League of Legends champions that are iconic to these players, as these champions represent them: Lissandra for Rookie, Irelia for Caps, and Karma for Faker.  On top of all of this, we what are essentially glitches: a dark corruption force taking over the players and their respective champions, creating a kind of ‘photo-negative’ incarnation of each.

The symbolism around this is key to the message of the song. But let’s dive even further into the lyrics to see make this song a masterpiece.  

This is referring to both the players’ psyche and overcoming the looming corruption of doubt (which is what I believe the glitched “photo negatives” that we see in the video to be. They’re fighting versions of themselves that have been corrupted by negativity and doubt). The “million voices in their heads, whispering to them to stop,” lyric is parallel to another line in the song where it says.

This time the voices are in the crowd, “screaming”, which represents the millions of fans and patrons of the game— those watching the esports scenes each year and following the journeys of each of the teams as they look to make their marks in history.

The players, and especially those who have choked performance-wise in previous showings at worlds, definitely have to contend with and battle not only their own doubts but the doubts of their fans, wondering if hope is lost, wondering if their teams are washed up. 

These lines parallel with the respective stories of not only those featured in the video for “Phoenix” but almost all of the current world’s participants.  

Several times throughout the song we keep seeing these lines repeated:

"It’s your reflection looking back to pull you down.  So are you gonna die today or make it out alive? You gotta conquer the monster in your head and then you’ll fly. Fly, phoenix, fly. It’s time for a new empire. Go bury your demons, then tear down the ceiling, Phoenix, fly."

The chorus of this song is perfect for capturing the whole motif of fighting negativity and emerging victorious from the battle, rising up like a phoenix from the ashes.  For a lot of the players at worlds, they have to worry about their careers, and with each showing at Worlds without the chance to claim the Summoner’s Cup, it can definitely take its toll. 

If they give up and give in to doubt, they’ll never be able to achieve their dreams on the highest stage. Previous seasons of Worlds have shown that the gap is closing between the Asian ‘superpowers’ from Korea and China and the rest of the world. Superteams from other regions have risen up to claim their titles, to forge new empires which have been so long dominated by SKT T1 and the other Korean and Chinese representatives. 

Even yesterday, we saw G2, a European superteam, take down the titan that is SKT in their semifinals series, which means that this year’s world finals will be between G2 Esports, and FunPlus Phoenix; Europe versus China.  

The tension is definitely on for what will be an immensely hyped finals because the last time a European team won Worlds was season 1 in 2011, by Fnatic. The last time a European even showed in finals was last year in 2018 when Fnatic faced off against and lost to Invictus Gaming, another Chinese team. 

Now G2 carries the hopes of Europe and the hopes of all the western regions alike as we could have the Summoner’s Cup hoisted by a western team in over 7 years.  

The League of Legends esports final event will take place Sunday, November 10th at 7:00 AM Eastern. The Opening Ceremony of the League event always features a live performance of the World’s theme. 

I hope with this analysis of “Phoenix” that you will also enjoy it with this fresh, new take on the World’s song which so many have, in my opinion, dismissed prematurely.  

Editor’s Note: The past couple of weeks has also featured many artists and their own takes on Phoenix in a more musical sense, as the song already has several covers and remixes in varying styles, and I recommend you check them out and show them some love as well.