#joker out lyrical battles

[sparkles-oflight]

JO SONGS BATTLE ROYALE - LYRICS EDITION (P.1)

Hi, everyone. I'm back at my shenanigans and JO battles.

This time, we will be judging songs based on LYRICS. How do they touch you personally? What's the message behind the lyrics? Are the language devices beautiful? You make your own criteria - just don't think of the sound.

We will start this new edition with Gola vs Katrina (undercut)

Part 2 | Round 1 - Summary

[purecommemasolitude]

you guys ever listen to vse kar vem

[j0kers-light]

What about joker being gone for some time but instead of going off with someone else how about Y/n ruining her apartment and crying so J’s goons report something about it and he comes home as quick as possible and sees Y/n in a panic basically Separation anxiety Y/N

His Lighthouse: Two Weeks (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Two Weeks - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

Guess which entry won the poll I ran a while back? The people wanted more separation anxiety!reader so Chaos shall deliver! We cannot forget that Joker has Y/n's apartment rigged with hidden cameras so I changed a little of the request to fit in that important detail. After that, there wasn't much to go (i.e. the ending angst, fluff) so I improvised! Teehee. Anyhoo! I hope you enjoy anon!

Edit: This request teetered on the edge of being canon to His Lighthouse as I worked on this draft so in the end; I decided I will list this as canon on the oneshot masterlist because some elements are possible. I hinted it enough in earlier works so eh 🤷🏾‍♀️

Edit two: Why was it so flipping hard to title this!??!??! I was kinda inspired by Lykke Li so yeah.... I couldn't resist the lyrics fit SO WELL!! Plus I might change the cover pic too its not giving what its supposed to gave but its almost 1am as I final edit/post

Taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! 🖤✨

Two weeks, three days, one hour and nine minutes and counting. That’s how long Joker had been gone and with each ticking moment, you spiraled more and more out of control.

You tried to not let it get to you. Joker promised he would be back– he always came back… but it was taking him far too long.

GCN broadcasted every single shenanigan that Joker caused in Gotham City while he was gone. J was a busy man so at first, you cut him some slack. Joker could evade the cops and Bats with no issue so why wasn’t he back yet? You could understand him laying low for a day or two; however, this long was a cause for concern.

Did Joker not love you anymore? Was there someone else– someone better looking that caught his eye? You wouldn’t be surprised if so.

Joker was quite the catch underneath this ghastly makeup and dark aura and you weren’t necessarily an ideal trophy girlfriend with your thick curves and darker complexion. Joker made it his mission to stop you from putting yourself down (which was quite often) but the mirror didn’t lie. If you went by looks, you didn’t belong with Joker yet he swore up and down that you were perfect for him.

He kissed your insecurities away but they always resurfaced during his absence.

As the days turned into weeks, the doubts you tucked away was your only company and they were louder than ever.

What if you pushed Joker away?

You were clingy and carried so much baggage. The last thing Joker needed in a partner was a traumatized, insecure, anxiety fueled crybaby. He said he didn’t mind; those faults made you unique. He was never a good liar.

J helped you battle your trauma and the anxiety that you developed from it, but he hated when you cried. And you did so often. You couldn’t be more grateful that Joker was patient and kind (at least to you) however there was only so much a guy could handle before he got fed up.

What if you pushed Joker past that breaking point? He wouldn’t give you a warning either; Joker was the kind of guy that would just up and leave and Lord knows you were tired of people in your life leaving.

You’ve been hurt too many times than you could count.

Most people would have learnt from their shortcomings and become bitter– you did the exact opposite.

You were still naive and kept your heart open for anyone to come along and break. You still clung to the fairytale of a charming man who would sweep in and break the cycle of bad relationships in your life and love you unconditionally. Yet reality always smacked you in the face when each person left you with a broken heart.

In the end, they all left but not Joker.

He had so many opportunities to leave but he accepted your flaws and fed into your fairytale. Maybe Joker was the one! Maybe he would latch on and never leave..

For a time, you believed that he wouldn’t– until now.

You sat up every night hoping that Joker would barge back into your apartment with an apology spewing from his scarred lips. You believed in the saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ and you daydreamed about the sex that would ensue upon his return.

You jumped every time you thought you heard keys in the door– but alas, your mind was playing tricks on you. Your reunion was delayed more and more until you had to face reality.

Joker never came back.

There was no warning, no signs to the end— just complete and utter silence. You weren’t quite sure when your mind accepted defeat, but one minute you were ‘fine’ and the next, you simply snapped.

Things were rather quiet in the main hideout’s control room to the point of the shift being complete and utter boredom.

It wasn’t worth the trouble of watching the various viewpoints scattered around Gotham City, however, the series of monitors dubbed, Grant Row, were. Today they were ominously black and yearning for attention.

There was a rumor about these monitors being super top secret with only Joker and his top three allowed access— but it was just that. A rumor. No one dared to poke around further after gossip of the last two goons who did circled around the hideout.

Joker killed them both for snooping on the Grant Row camera feed and apparently he made someone watch it all unfold.

Never look at the GR feed. It was a word to the wise to whomever was assigned control room duty and today Will was that unlucky fellow.

He was fairly new within the organization and knew to keep his mouth shut to not provoke Joker’s ire. So far his actions paid off and he rose ranks to be trusted well enough with control room duty.

All Will had to do was watch the feed for any possible sabotage, any cop and/or rivalry activity in the assigned sector, and call it in if need be. It was a simple gig, that is, if anyone warned him about the other monitors becoming an issue.

They were powered off for the most part and Will didn’t spare them a glance until a robotic message chimed throughout the room, startling him senseless.

“High motion detected. Action advised.”

He didn’t even know the gang had advanced security systems like this! Other than the verbal alert, it unfortunately didn’t specify which sector or exact camera it was referring to. It left Will scrambling to manually filter through the feeds but nothing that matched the system’s call out came up.

Trying to find the source of the alert was a real head scratcher but no further callouts were heard so Will quickly forgot about it. If it wasn’t caught in the control room someone out doing physical patrols would find it.

Things were calm once again until fifteen minutes later, another alert came through the room’s speakers.

“Warning. High motion detected. Action required.”

This time a black box titled, ‘GR Hall’, popped up on the main system’s screen and failed to minimize no matter what input was entered.

Will wasn’t sure what it meant and neither Neo or Mac briefed him on this type of alert before deeming him fit for duty. He was beyond confused why the box wouldn’t go away and it only got worse the more frantic keyboards strikes he made.

In an instant all the other monitors faded to black and the mysterious feed took top priority. Its message flashed periodically with a command box, awaiting a passcode. Will was gonna make one up when it suddenly disappeared with a new verbal message sending a chill of dread down his spine.

“Warning. High motion detected. Threat level: Severe. Sending Admin alert.”

Will watched in horror as every monitor in the room proceeded to shut down. Only one screen remained on with a yellow triangle blinking ominously. All it had was a text box that read, “Admin login required.”

Somehow Will failed the easiest job in the gang. He was a dead man.

Joker was sitting in on a meeting with a few of his men when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He didn’t pay it any mind since his focus was squarely on getting to the bottom of this turf war mess. Two weeks in and it was still keeping him from coming back home to you.

J wanted to track this wannabe gang leader down and flay him like a fish for wasting time better spent with you.

There wasn’t a day that went by that Joker didn’t think about you. His sweet Light with her bright smile and problematic separation anxiety. You were a ticking time bomb and Joker didn’t want to stick around and wait for you to blow. He never been away this long and he didn’t know how far your limitations could be tested– if it hadn’t already snapped.

It was already two weeks going on three without contact with you.

He could only imagine the state of your nails as you bit them in distress. Another perfectly good set ruined, he surmised. Joker couldn’t return home until this situation was resolved and his urgency to get the issue handled was felt throughout the gang. Joker was going through withdrawals without his Light around and he was barely keeping it under wraps.

Only his top three could tell the noticeable signs, but they were there. Joker was slipping. He didn’t want to imagine how you were fairing in all of this.

This next mission would hopefully nip the turf war in the bud; at least that was what Joker was hoping for. As the days went by he was craving you more and more and he knew the feeling was mutual.

If all else failed, he would just blow their dumb gang sky high and come running back to you. Anything it took to get to you faster, he’d do it, but you taught J to be more patient.

The meeting was halfway in when Joker received another message, only this time it made all conversation in the room cease with a verbal callout.

“Warning. High motion detected. Action required.”

Since when did their main security system have a voice feature? There was a curious atmosphere in the meeting room. Everyone knew well to hold their breath as Joker checked his phone.

It was a minor distraction and although Joker kept his face devoid of emotions, his eyes gave him away. Something was wrong.

Right as he was entering a passcode to access your live security feed, another message rang out.

“Warning. High motion detected. Threat level: Severe. Sanctuary door open.”

Joker swore the Earth stopped spinning after he heard that. The facts were simple.

You never left your bedroom door open. Ever. It was your sanctuary for a reason, to keep people out, (him included) so the fact that the last motion detected in your apartment left your safe haven’s door open– instantly sounded off red alerts in Joker’s mind.

At that moment, he had only one priority. Screw the turf war. Screw Batman foiling his plans along the way. His Light was in danger. Frost locked eyes with his Boss and in seconds, they were on the move.

The plan was to enter your apartment with a soft approach.

Quiet but with extreme caution just in case there were any hostiles still in the area and they would only engage with deadly force if it were deemed a threat towards you.

Joker did not want you to witness any death in your home so he and Frost would go in stealth mode. Joker chose to lead since he knew your apartment like the back of his hand and would not require any lights to clear the area. Frost would follow behind.

It was a great plan, one that quickly dissolved when they assessed the situation more closely.

Coming off the elevator, everything appeared calm– the front door was still locked and nothing was disturbed.

There were no signs of forced entry but as soon as Joker stepped inside, the state of your home proved otherwise. Your once pristine high rise was in shambles. It seemed like a fight occurred in the living room for the colorful furniture, your beloved bookshelves, and a few of your potted plants were overturned. It was a mess no matter where you looked.

It would explain the high motion alerts that were detected so many times but seeing the damage of your home in person was shocking.

You took great pride in a clean environment and that was presumably from a minor case of OCD, (an effect of your PTSD) that made it impossible for any dust or decorative trinket to be awry in your penthouse.

You simply couldn’t stand a dirty environment.

Joker stepped over a broken floor lamp that pointed to the trail of destruction. It proceeded into the kitchen with shattered glass on the floor, overturned bar stools, and broken kitchen equipment– towards the grand hall.

Frost was checking the pantry area for hostiles when he spotted blood on the floor.

He signaled to Joker, who panicked at the amount, but followed the crimson drops down the hall. More signs of a struggle were found in the hallway like decorative tables being knocked over and your precious art pieces barely hanging on the wall. Joker was already thinking the worst the further he ventured.

Whoever did this was filled with rage and extremely dangerous. He might have to use deadly force afterall.

The grand hall was long with multiple rooms to check so Joker and Frost split up to cover more ground.

But before they could do so, they both heard something crash on the floor in the near silent apartment. Joker followed the sound straight to your open bedroom door. They both hesitated in front of it.

Only darkness lay ahead, uncharted territory for any man.

Under normal circumstances they would never dare to enter but what if you were in danger inside?

There was a trail of blood that led to your door. That couldn’t be ignored. There was no time to question the consequences, all Joker could do was act.

He ordered Frost to check the rest of the penthouse as he barged into your private sanctuary, but he skidded to a halt at the sight before him.

Joker had never stepped foot in here, however this was far what he expected.

There was no light therein save for the decorative constellation lights found on the high ceiling and their ethereal glow shined down on the black void that was your bedroom.

Joker eyed the colossal bed, with its black sheets to the equally dark furniture, and the door that led to what he suspected was another outdoor balcony. Thankfully that door was closed and an overturned chair blocked it anyhow.

To the far left of the room, an alcove was carved as an entryway to your closet and from there Joker could see something being violently thrown out.

He hoped it was by the person invading your home yet he was surprised to hear your voice in a state of distress.

Anything you could get your hands on was immediately broken. You sounded like a toddler having a temper tantrum and Joker wouldn't have reacted if your exerted pants didn’t turn into hysterical sobs.

He wasn’t concerned until you screamed and threw a stiletto heel into a mirror and picked up a large chunk of the broken glass.

His heart sank at your evident intentions. That finally had him jumping into action.

You slipped into a panic attack when Joker tackled you onto the floor and began wrestling the shard of glass out of your hand. You kicked and screamed but he managed to subdue you enough to talk some sense into you.

“Bunny! Hey! Stop that!” He held you still when you tried biting him to get away.

J was mindful not to squeeze you too hard since he could see cuts on your hands and arms, mostly likely from breaking everything in your frantic state. It would also account for the droplets of blood that led to you.

He was unsure what was the catalyst but he knew the bomb of your separation anxiety had gone off.

Joker had experienced minor cases of it from time to time. You would beg him to stay home for the night or, (if possible) for him to take you with him on lax meetings at the hideout. You couldn’t stand extended periods of time without Joker around and this was the reason why.

Joker didn’t expect you to go off the rails like this. You were beside yourself with grief.

Were you responsible for the destruction of your apartment? Your bloody hands and feet were a definitive: yes.

Joker didn’t want to imagine how you must’ve felt these past weeks alone. You had the mindset that he abandoned you and he had no one to blame but himself.

He caused this.

He jumped in shock when you broke free of his restrictive hold and launched yourself into his arms.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t leave.. I don’t want–” You suddenly looked up and saw Joker for the first time. He watched you glance around the room and quickly back towards him.

Your brain was processing that someone was in your sanctuary and that’s when he knew he screwed up.

“You’re in my…. why are you..”

“I know Bunny, I know but I was worried about ya! I got security alerts and I saw blood… Don’T scare me like that!” Joker embraced you tighter.

You hesitated but clung to him mostly acting on autopilot. The words he heard you utter next made him tense up and fear the worst.

“You’re… you’re not real. J-Joker left. He left me. They always leave. Why do they always leave? What did I do? What did I do to make them leave?!”

You began hyperventilating until Joker talked you out of it.

“Stop that! I would never leave ya doll. I’m here, I'm right here.” You shook your head and tried to squirm away until Joker stopped you by shaking you gently. “Y/n, my Light.. Look. At. Me!”

He grabbed your hands so you could trace his scars with your fingers. Slowly but surely the rough texture of his scars underneath familiar white face paint helped you find clarity. You stopped crying and blinked away your tears to see Joker’s pleading eyes staring down at you.

“I’m right here, Y/n.” Joker cracked a smile. “Is my pretty girl with me?”

You broke out into another sob but this time Joker didn’t mind. You managed to say yes. You were with him. He pushed your head into his chest and began rocking you back and forth in his arms– right there on the floor.

“I won’t leave ya doll, I promise. You poor thing.. I’m here now shhh. Stop cryin, seriously, Bunny. I’m. RighT. Hereeeee.”

You heeded his advice (or was it demands?) and cried yourself to sleep in Joker’s arms. He sighed in relief before lifting you up and out of your closet.

This dark room of yours was foreign to him and it felt like he was intruding on some kind of holy ground so Joker left and entered his own room straight down the hall.

Inside Frost was seated on the leather couch.

He eyed Joker carrying you in and he raised an eyebrow at the delicate nature his boss used to tuck you into bed. You fussed a bit when J pulled away but you were quickly pacified with him nudging your giant stuffed bunny rabbit into your arms.

It was a temporary fix but it would buy Joker enough time to debrief Frost and secure your apartment before you freaked out again.

In the end, you needed Joker to feel safe.

“You’re gettin’ soft Boss.” Frost mentioned.

Joker’s glare didn’t hold any of its normal hostility– he was too busy devoting all of his attention on you. Plus Frost was an old friend. Joker knew he meant well by the statement. Once you were in a deep sleep, Joker turned to speak to his right hand man.

“She.. did this, because I was gone for too long. That can’T happen again. She can’t go through this again. Handle the uhh, ‘turf war’ without me. I’m needed here.”

It went without saying that Joker was handing over control to his second in command.

Frost could run things without Joker so it wouldn’t be an issue. The brute was actually worried about you so he didn’t mind being in charge indefinitely until you were better. Not like he’d let anyone know that.

Frost stood up with a sigh, “I’ll get with Mac to replace all the s__t she broke. Consider the rest handled, Boss.”

Nothing else was said between the two and after a minute or two, Joker heard your front door slam close announcing Frost’s departure.

And with it came the privacy to be as soft as you needed him to be.

Joker didn’t waste any time shedding his suit and rushing to the bathroom to remove his clown makeup. He wanted to be bare of his identity when he held you in arms.

You didn’t need The Joker but rather J, the man you undoubtedly came to love and he craved the warmth and infinite love only his found Light could provide.

Joker stated you couldn’t go this long apart but in reality, it was him who couldn't survive another second without you in his life. Tonight was just the tip of the iceberg in what could happen should you and Joker ever part.

It wouldn’t happen again and Joker would do everything in his power to prevent it. 

[9w1ft]

I haven't seen anyone say this and I don't know if I am the first to say this, but I feel like the great war is actually about the heartbreaks and difficulties Tay and KK had to go through within the 4 years presidential term of Trump, and its written in chronological order. Also the most important part of this song is Kaylor survived the great war, they are still together after these 4 years.

First of all, the length of the great war aka ww1 is 4 years, which matched with the length of time when Trump is the president. And also it would not be the first time Tay wrote about 2016 election. In Call it what you want, we got All the jokers dressin' up as kings, which could been seen as a dig towards Trump. InMiss Americana and Heartbreak Prince, we got Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard And ran for my life / My team is losing, battered and bruising I see the high fives between the bad guys. Scoreboard could been seen as the result of election, and bad guys definitely including Trump.

Then there are some lyrics matched perfectly with some events in those 4 years.

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

here is Taylor cursing as Trump won the election

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

but she couldn't speak up about politics back then, which according to Miss Americana this totally made her sad. And she had to took the relationship with KK underground(love black out theory), because KK is linked with the Kushner which is linked with Trump. If their relationship got found out by general public, there would be some huge impact on the Kushner and the American politics.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

the 2014-2016 very high profile and sweet kaylor bff era was over, they had to go through the war

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

KK made a deal with joshua and had a lavender marriage, while Tay could only use Joe as a beard & disguise and suffered from the pain of watching the one you love married to another person (cue cruel summer)

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

this is so similar to the situation described in afterglow that they could be talking about the same thing:

i put you in jail for something you didn't do

and I know you have a very interesting theory that afterglow could be about Tay apologize to Karlie for her reaction to the suprise october wedding stunt in new york, which just fit in the timeline here perfectly.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

this part is about master heist and the rumor that KK was feeding Scooter with Tay's secrects

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Tay almost came out in the Lover era and KK was kinda a part of it, also after master heist KK still fought for Tay

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

Tay realized that KK never actually betrayed her and was hurt by her accusation, so she stopped asking her friend to like posts about KK's alleged betrayal

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you

Kaylor probablly broke up because of these things, but NEARLY and THOUGHT indicates that they got back together

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

As Trump ended his presidency term at 2021.1.20, the Kaylor great war officially ended, and they have passed their worst time, they survived.

Also the other filler lyrics just totally matched with the theme, and now I think it is yet another evidence that Kaylor are still together to this day.

two quick sidenotes to clarify my perspective: i don’t think taylor ever really lost karlie (hence the words “nearly” and “thought” i lost you), and about my old afterglow post, i could have worded it better because often people have read it and don’t understand that i firmly believe that taylor and karlie both agreed to the wedding thing and knew about it in advance. i just saw it as a moment where the haze might have been thicker than usual.

okay so with that, i wanted to say that i very much agree with what you are laying out here! this is close to how i see things. i wanted to add links to some stuff i’ve written that i feel is related… here’s a post where i tried to bring together a bunch of similar lyrics that includes the effects of the 2016 election and here is a more lighthearted post i made in regards to me thinking maroon is about election night with a fun little ylm tie in at the end

i also think it’s worth pointing out that evermore (the song) was described by taylor herself as being written around her feelings regarding the election. i know that many see it as being about the failed lover era coming out and i totally get that and that was my first impression as well, but i do think it’s interesting that in the context of kaylor, the election interpretation as backed by taylor makes a ton of sense. also when you think about when evermore was written and released, right as / right around the time that biden won the 2020 election in november, we can see the “feeling so peculiar that this pain wouldn’t be for evermore” as reflective of them worrying that perhaps they might be in for 4 more years of trump, and the relief that came with the election result. **which is so specifically important to their story** and evermore will never not make me cry. i get so emotional 😭

anyway in conclusion, the great war is definitely, for me and for you, covering the trump administration years. i also think it’s worth pointing out what we have seen since. they may have still kept to themselves since biden took office but, might we all agree there has been a form of happiness, when you think about the ways their relationship has grown since? this is how i see things.

[blackjackkent]

For the lyric prompt: "I might walk home alone/But my faith in love is still devout" or "See, I’ve already waited too long/And now my hope is gone" for Matty/Ash? (If you feel like it. XD)

Yay, thank you for the prompt! (Wild to be doing Mass Effect writing again after so long. c: )

"See, I’ve already waited too long... And now my hope is gone..."

-----

Ash sits in one of the waiting areas of Gagarin Station's makeshift field hospital and tries not to fidget too much. Military discipline feels very far away when the only activity available is watching the orderlies slowly bring in the wounded from the battle on Earth. There's a muted scent of blood to the air that has lingered for days, but that's not the real reason for the sick feeling in her stomach.

They all sort of hoped, when the Normandy limped back to Gagarin - after the Crucible fired, after the chaotic crash into the jungle and the frantic field repairs to get them spaceborne again - that they would find Matty alive and waiting for them. Joker made a few comments about it, here and there - "He's fine, right? He was alive to pull the trigger. No way the old man would let a little knock like that take him out." Even Ash caught herself hoping, now and then - daring to believe that after everything, there could be a happy ending.

But of course, they all knew the truth, deep down.

According to Hackett, the last contact with Matty was aboard the Citadel, just before the Crucible went off. "He sounded bad," the Admiral had said grimly. "Weak as hell. Started mumbling stuff that didn't make sense, right before the signal cut out. I almost tried to send a few fighters in after him, and then the whole thing blew out. And, well, you saw the rest."

"Yes, sir," Ash had answered tonelessly. She remembered that rolling tide of red light chasing them through the relay and the brutal knowledge that they had to run, had to leave him behind. "Thank you, sir."

So why is she here, watching the endless parade of dead and wounded?

Hope is a funny thing. The thing with feathers/that perches in the soul... She held onto hers for quite a long time, but it has gone silent now, in spite of Emily Dickinson's assurances. She's just here, watching, waiting - perhaps to remind herself that even though Matty is gone, others survived the cataclysm and will be able to see this strange new world on the other side of the war...

Her breath catches in her throat and she hunches over in her seat. As that thought passed through her mind it suddenly became real in a whole new way. Matthias Shepard is dead, the news reports will say, and there will be memorials and celebrations of his bravery, the soldier that led the charge for the galaxy's freedom and died for it. But Matty is gone -- that is the truth that she has to carry in her heart, and grieve alone for the man that so few got to see.

The man with soft brown eyes staring over the top of a book at her when she thought he wasn't looking. The man who excitedly told her about the discussions he'd had with scientists about his ideas for biotech and prosthetics. The man who gifted her poetry and wrote his own scribbled on the margins of old reports. The man who cried out in his sleep, his body locked tense and rigid as he walked in restless dreams. The man she loved...

As once I wept, if I could weep, My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed; To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.

"Byron," she can almost hear him say. "I do love that hidden romantic streak you have..." And he'd grin and lounge back in his chair and recite the rest of the poem for her, out of that prodigious memory...

Her stomach hurts with the effort it takes not to sob. She grips the arms of the chair, white-knuckling her way through the sudden surge of grief. And just when she's begun to get a handle on herself, there's a burst of chaos from the other end of the hallway.

Several of the orderlies and the harried, exhausted-looking doctors are converging near the elevator, all talking at once. In spite of herself, Ash looks up, automatically tracking the increase in activity, picking up on muted snatches of the hubbub of conversation.

"--about eight broken ribs--" "--stopped the hemorrhaging planetside--" "--barely stable--" "--going to need a transfusion--" "--Shepard--"

Her heart seems to stop in her chest. The hope that she thought was gone from her flares to life abruptly, with painful intensity. No, she tells herself. It's not possible. You're just hurting yourself more.

But without realizing it, she's on her feet and moving, clambering over the chairs in the waiting area rather than going around. Her boots hit the decking again and then she's running down the hallway.

One of the doctors looks up, hearing her approach. "Commander Williams," he says briskly, not seeming to register her agitation. "Good. I was going to send for someone from the Normandy, but now there's no need."

She stares at him, gasping like a fish, not quite sure how to form words. "I-- did I hear you right?" she asks blankly. "Someone said Shepard."

The man blinks, and then some of his distraction fades for a moment and he seems to see her face more clearly. "Did no one tell you, Ms. Williams?" he asks. "I suppose not - we've only just learned now ourselves. Commander Shepard was found on Earth two weeks ago. They sent him by fastest transport to us here, but communications have been so spotty the message only got here a few hours ahead of him." He nods towards the elevator. "We're preparing for admittance and triage now."

Her breathing feels like it's not working quite right, each exhale catching in her throat. "He's alive?" she whispers.

"Barely, by the sound of it," the doctor says grimly. "But alive, yes. And we're going to do our best to keep him that way. I'd advise you to stay out of the way when he arrives--"

She's stopped listening, because the elevator has made a soft, somewhat off-key chime and the doors are sliding open...

Four Alliance soldiers in bloody, ragged BDUs are standing inside. Between them they're carrying a makeshift stretcher covered in more blood, and on it is stretched--

"Matty!"

He looks terrible. One of his arms hangs at an odd angle, his clothing is tattered and bloodsoaked and she can see more than one bone poking through torn flesh. But he's breathing; she can see the soft rise and fall of his chest, and at the sound of her voice, his eyes flicker half-open.

"Ash...?" he whispers.

"Commander, clear the way. We need to get him hooked up to a line," the doctor snaps. "And don't agitate him."

She backs up; the reaction to the tone of command is automatic. But she met his eyes, just for a moment, long enough for her to see him within that battered shell, and for him to see her waiting for him. It's enough for now.

Commander Shepard is not dead. Matty is not gone.

That thing with feathers in her soul is alive and well again and shouting its song at the top of its lungs.

[raapija]

how many concerts have you gone to and which one was your fave???? 👀💖

Oooohh, I've been to a few... 😌

I've been to a couple big summer festivals, so this is not even all, because I've seen some really obscure shit against my will when my friends wanted to see them 😭😭😭

(Stayin' Alive was a charity live concert that was streamed online during lockdown)

JVG x2

Eppu Normaali x2

Dingo

Michael Monroe x2

Kaija Koo x3

Olavi Uusivirta x4

Yölintu

Beast in Black x2

The Rasmus

HIM

Ville Valo & Agents

J. Karjalainen

Don Johnson Big Band

Paperi T

Portion Boys x2

Stam1na x6 (+stayin' alive)

Kaseva

Maj Karma

Pariisin Kevät

The Offspring

The 69 Eyes

Children of Bodom

Popeda x2

Thirty Seconds to Mars (against my will 💀)

Kotiteollisuus x2

Stratovarius

Sonata Arctica x3

Battle Beast x2

Mokoma x2 (+stayin' alive)

Apocalyptica x2 (+stayin' alive)

Klamydia

Uriah Heep

CMX

Turmion Kätilöt

Waltteri Torikka

Lenni-Kalle Taipale

Niilon Biitti

Anssi Kela

Happoradio

Käärijä x2 (+with joker out)

Iron Maiden

Joker Out

Metallica x2 (72 Seasons: No Repeat Weekend)

Five Finger Death Punch

Bruce Springsteen

My favorites are Metallica and The Boss simply because those are once-in-a-lifetime kinda gigs. And the Metallica double-weekend was awesome, because I went there with my big brother and that's always cool. I also went to the Iron Maiden gig with him ! Super cool shows and I love both the bands, so 😌🙏

Bruce is one of my all time favorite PEOPLE in the world and getting to see him live in my home country ?? Insane. And the show was incredible with the whole E-Street Band and all the people in the stadium singing along... ahhh TAKE ME BACK THERE 😭😭😭❤️❤️

Also, of course, Stam1na. They are my boys. My sweet babes. My favorite long haired guys. (+Kake with his bald head ❤️)

Their music has helped me through tough times and it's always a way for me to find comfort. The lyrics, the composition, the journeys they take you on? Insane.

AND THE BEST GOD DAMN LIVE BAND IN FINLAND!!! 🔥🔥🔥🤘🤘 Last time I went to see them, I got whipped in the EYES by their guitarist's dripping wet hair for the whole set and I loved every second of it ❤️

+They're all so so hot. Like. This is my dream man. Get me a long haired, tattooed, vegan, heavy metal MAN 😭😍

The video is one of my favorite things ever, because they were hyping this song so much and then fucked up the start 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Did we surprise you? We did!"

"We surprised even ourselves."

Käärijä is also always very fun to see and his speeches between songs are actually insane. He will just say random shit and then go on 😭 Going to Helsinki to see Joker Out alone was one of my favorite trips I've ever done and the show was AMAZING and the cherry on top was Käärijä coming out there to sing Cha Cha Cha with Bojan 🫶🫶🫶

There's so many awesome bands to see live... The Offspring was cool and I got on their instagram 💀👍 Saw HIM during their farewell run, Beast In Black sporting ninja turtles masks and synchro-headbanging, Don Johnson Big Band during a beautiful summer evening on a beach, Michael Monroe climbing 20 metre high scaffolding and singing from up there while barely holding on, Olavi Uusivirta stealing my glasses and singing one of my favorite songs with them on and I could barely see him (but it was incredible), Paperi T from front row and the bass on his set was SO FUCKING LOUD I probably got ear damage from that the most out of any gig, Children of Bodom before Alexi passed 💔, The Rasmus singing the Ghostbusters song, getting a pick from the bass player of Uriah Heep, Apocalyptica killing everyone dead with In Hall of the Mountain King, CMX doing a rare live show and it was an ethereal experience, Lenni-Kalle Taipale doing an insane jazz piano set and taking his shirt off to play Stormskärs Maja, J. Karjalainen singing his biggest hits.... SO MANY MEMORIES ❤️

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Heeeeeeyyyy 👋

Could I please request platonic! Sisterly reader with freckles?? Maybe reader joined with Smile and Black as a fortune teller and grew really close right off the bat? YOU KNOW IM A SLUT FOR THE LULLABY TROPE-

So maybe reader has to room with freckles instead of Smile? :3

PLEASE AND THANK

aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA!!!!

DISCLAIMER: This piece contains sections of lyrics from "The Call" by Regina Spektor! I don't own the song, am not claiming to, and am not profiting off this piece at all.

You came along with you master and coworker, and although you didn’t know you had any kind of talent with fortune telling, you suppose it’s good that you’ve got something up your sleeve.

As spellbound as you are by the entire circus, you’ve been all but claimed by this eager little waif who calls themself FRECKLES. For some reason they seem oddly charmed by you ― you wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that their face lit up when you proclaimed that they would be an incredible parent in the future. (You’re not sure that required any kind of divination. It’s plain to see that any child of theirs will be overwhelmingly loved.)

The ringleader, Joker, wanted your young master to room with Freckles, initially. However, they threw their arms around your neck and batted their eyelashes and asked if pretty please you could room with them instead. Apparently Joker just can’t say no to that face.

So here you are, trying to get settled in Freckles’ tent. It’s such a different environment from anything you’ve ever slept in, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Actually, when you lie down on the bed, it seems pretty comfortable.

“Oi! Gettin’ tired?” Freckles briefly flips themself down from the top bunk, holding out a few Funtom-brand lollipops. “’Ere y’ go, sis, pick one. Wanna make y’ feel welcome on y’r firs’ day!”

You tilt your head before laughing and taking your favorite flavor of the ones they’ve offered. “‘Sis’?”

They nod and retreat back onto their bunk, seeming to stretch out by the sound of things up there. “Mhm. I figured if I ever ‘ad a big sister, I’d want ‘er t’ be someone like y’. Is it alright if I call y’ that, then?”

All you can do is shrug. You tuck the lollipop away into the small bag you brought with you and stretch out yourself. “Aw, sure.” Who can blame you? Even in just the short time you’ve known them, Freckles has wormed their way into your heart. Just like you charmed them, they appear to have charmed you just as easily. “It’s late, so, big sister duties include reminding you to get plenty of sleep.”

“Hah! Alriiiight,” they say, and you can practically hear the pout in their voice. After a moment, they speak up again, a little more shyly. “Um, y’ know, (Name)… there’s this thing I ‘eard ‘bout big sisters ‘n’ mums ‘n’ all that doin’ that I kinda dreamed ‘bout a li’l. Maybe y’ could… do it f’r me?”

“Oh? What is it?”

Their response is equally as insecure as the initial request was. “Could y’… sing me a lullaby? I mean, I know I’m an adult ‘n’ all, but… I dunno… it’s jus’ somethin’ I thought sounded kinda nice.”

You let out a small chuckle. Is that all? “Well, I can’t promise my voice is much good, but I can try. Are you all comfy?”

“Mhm!”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

They snort. “I only got the one, but done.”

“Good, good. Just relax, then.”

You can hear them breathing gently above you, and you start to sing quietly.

“It started out as a feeling which then grew into a hope which then turned into a quiet thought which then turned into a quiet word and then that word grew louder and louder till it was a battle cry I’ll come back when you call me no need to say goodbye just because everything’s changing doesn’t mean it’s never been this way before all you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to the war pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light you’ll come back when it’s over no need to say goodbye…”

You don’t even need to get to the very last verse. As your voice trails off a bit, they’re already starting to snore. Evidently the ‘big-sister-sings-them-to-sleep’ dream was every bit as calming as they’d imagined it would be.

You smile and close your eyes, intending to get some sleep yourself.

“You’ll come back when they call you no need to say goodbye…”

[johnny2071]

Monster Rancher Rap Lyrics

Get a disk, take a risk! Spin it fast, through the past! Unlock it, reclaim it, you can tame it! Unlock your disk!

Part 1:

Captain Black Dino, one of Moo's best (Unlock your disk!) Lead the Black Dinos on every conquest (Unlock your disk!) Little Spot Dino is harmless enough To unlock the Kuro, you gotta be tough Captain Kuro will stomp and brawl These monsters rule, unlock 'em all Unlock it, unlock it, unlock your disk!

Part 2:

Isn't a Jell a slippery fool? (Unlock your disk!) With Captain Jell, these monsters rule! (Unlock your disk!) Worm from below explode through the force (Unlock 'em all!) Clays and their captain have no remorse (Unlock 'em all!) Jump, smash, and roar! Get off the floor! These monsters fight, unlock 'em today!

Part 3:

Find the Seed Sisters charming but frightening (Unlock 'em all!) Or the Usabas quicker than lightning (Unlock 'em all!) There's Evil Hare, and his captain (Unlock your disk!) They love to fight like Pirate Dragons (Unlock your disk!) Mighty they battle, mighty they fall These monsters rule, unlock 'em all

Part 4:

The Phoenix soars like Master Moo (Unlock 'em all!) Everybody wants 'em, how about you? (Unlock 'em all!) Moo is the giant, baddest of bad (Unlock your disk!) The Nagas fight form, to resist would be mad (Unlock your disk!) 400 monsters, all shapes and sizes You can't predict them, they're full of surprises

Part 5:

Gali, one of Moo's big bad four (Unlock 'em all!) Big Blue, a monster with power and more (Unlock 'em all!) Pixie's a mystery, who's side is she on? (Unlock your disk!) She's one of Moo's four before how long? (Unlock your disk!) Cliffs and tornadoes, from out and within 400 monsters, someone will win

Part 6:

Monol's a monster with a story to tell (Unlock your disk!) The Joker is wild and he leaves a spell (Unlock your disk!) Up are the Zillas, crash and a thwomp (Unlock your disk!) And then top it off with their Zilla-Kong (Unlock 'em all!) Monol. Joker, and Zills too 400 in all, see what they do

Part 7:

Gray Wolf and Tiger, brothers but foes (Unlock your disk!) Golem doesn't think fightin' solves woes (Unlock your disk!) Join up with Hare who likes a good box (Unlock 'em all!) He's the team planner, smart like a fox (Unlock your disk!) Some of them friendly, some of them not 400 monsters, which ones have you got?

Part 8:

Mocchi is pink, but Mocchi is tough (Unlock your disk!) Zuum troops and their captain play kind of rough (Unlock your disk!) Suezo looks far, soars through the skies Looking for Rockies, they aren't bad guys Horn the pirate says that he's pure, But he's a monster, can you be sure? Unlock it, unlock it, Unlock your disk!

Part 9:

Don't pet Jagd Hound, because he will attack (Unlock your disk!) Unless he decides to do a backtrack (Unlock your disk!) Half-horse and half-man, Chariot will fight (Unlock 'em all!) Any old creature he finds in his sight (Unlock 'em all!) If you were Endbringer, would you call it a day? I wouldn't bet on it! Forget it, no way!

Part 10:

Shaped like an urn, Bajarl hoards men (Unlock your disk!) Including a town, can't tell where it's been (Unlock your disk!) General Kato is good and wise (Unlock 'em all!) He knows how it works, the summit surprise (Unlock 'em all!) Monol is flat, but Monol is deep His biggest problem, he falls asleep

Part 11:

Here come the Arrowheads, fighting with claws (Unlock your disk!) Not like Eared Mew, who only has paws (Unlock your disk!) The Tainted Cat Brothers are quick and they're bad (Unlock 'em all!) They're whirlwind-fast, so don't get 'em mad (Unlock 'em all!) So many monsters, so little time, Check 'em all out, while they're still in their prime

Part 12:

Niton's a snail, fast talkin' and bold (Unlock your disk!) He'd give up his mother just for some gold (Unlock your disk!) This one comes back each time as an Ape (Unlock 'em all!) Sweet Baby Bossy just can't escape (Unlock 'em all!) Stone Dragon's spewin' cracklin' fire, Unlock 'em all, cuz they're all for hire

Part 13:

Think of a square standing on end (Unlock your disk!) You got Color Pandora, watch it descend (Unlock your disk!) Lilim is cute, but this one's no fun (Unlock 'em all!) She wants all the marbles for her honey-bun (Unlock 'em all!) General Durahan demands it all, He seizes the world at his beck and call

Part 14:

High in the mountain, look for a thrill (Unlock your disk!) A monster that ice-bites, that would be Jill (Unlock your disk!) Gangster's tricky like most monsters are (Unlock 'em all!) Especially the Weeds, who's tricky by far (Unlock 'em all!) Some are too kind, and some are not nice, Unlock 'em all, it's good advice

Part 15:

Ape and Rock Ape fight dirty and mean (Unlock your disk!) When they go at each other, it's quite a scene (Unlock your disk!) The Astros seek vengeance from outer space (Unlock 'em all!) They'll take it out on the whole human race (Unlock 'em all!) Some monsters are good, some monsters are bad, Unlock 'em all, you gonna be glad

Part 16:

Baku's a pet who does a brave deed (Unlock your disk!) That kind of monster is one that we need (Unlock your disk!) Beware, the Knight Mocchis look sweet, but they're not (Unlock 'em all!) You see them coming, don't you get caught (Unlock 'em all!) Metal Jell is a Jell with a 'tude, Don't wanna meet him when he's in a mood

[sparkles-oflight]

JO SONGS BATTLE ROYALE - LYRICS EDITION (P.4)

Hi, everyone. I'm back at my shenanigans and JO battles.

This time, we will be judging songs based on LYRICS. How do they touch you personally? What's the message behind the lyrics? Are the language devices beautiful? You make your own criteria - just don't think of the sound.

Results for Battle 2 are in and we must sadly say goodbye to Umanazane Misl since Nisam ti još priznao is our winner!

Today's battle is between a UM song versus a DM song: Vem da Greš vs Plastika (undercut)

Part 3 | Part 5 | Round 1 - Summary

[barovianbitches]

Tyyran's Exile - Tyyran Drachedandion

It was mid afternoon, Tyyran and his father had been sorting scrolls and books all day. Though, it didn’t bother Tyyran. He would crack a few that seemed interesting to him and read a few pages. There was one that had particularly caught his attention this time around and Tyyran was chuckling under his breath. His father, Rhorrin, the knowledge-keeper of their tribe, had to bring him back down to earth, affectionately tapping him on his snout, “Remember the name of this one and read it later, my boy. We need to be done with this by sunset.” 

Tyyran nodded sheepishly, “Yes, Dad.”

Rhorrin watched as Tyyran obediently went to find where the old tome belonged on the bookshelf. The elder dragonborn’s striking blue eyes sparkled with knowing and compassion. He loved that his son was so interested in books and stories. Knowledge was power and in Dragonborn culture, heritage and history were incredibly important. However, He had noticed that Tyyran was prone to flights of fancy and his attention span was that of a goldfish. While Tyyran seemed to read and enjoy learning, Rhorrin wasn’t sure what all he was retaining. 

The day wore on and when sunset hit the two had successfully organized the library. Tyyran and Rhorrin took a moment to appreciate their hard work. The young Dragonborn then went to a book on the shelf and pulled it out. It was the one he had been reading earlier. The little guy took the book and sat on one of the benches nearest to him.

Rhorrin was curious now and went to sit beside his son, “What did you find?”

In his head he was hoping it would be something similar to “Dragonborn history: the Compendium” or “Tales of the Weary Traveler” or even “A Clodpate’s guide to the Universe”

But no. The book that Tyyran proudly presented to his father was instead a book titled:

“Japes for Jaunty Jokers”

It was a joke book.

Tyyran had begun school at the local bard school for poetry and spellcasting. He was beyond excited to get out of the dusty old library and begin studying some real stuff. He had big dreams of becoming a local legend with his lute playing and hoped to impress his father.

His finals were coming up and he had to come up with an act for one of the school's magnates and biggest patron of the performing arts. Shirren. This was his opportunity to show his skills and talents and perhaps even get a full ride scholarship through his musical endeavors. Tyyran knew he wasn’t the smartest or the most clever dragonborn, however he was definitely the most stubborn. (Plus he was occasionally funny… sometimes… his dad seemed to think so.) Tyyran spent weeks on his act. Practicing and practicing, writing and rewriting lyrics, making faces at himself in the mirror for dramatic effect and so on and so forth. On the final night before his performance he held up his lyrical masterpiece with a determined smirk, “This will DEFINITELY get me that scholarship!”

But sweet, sweet Tyyran had no idea that his act would go terribly, terribly wrong. 

The ornate hall was lined with candelabras and satin wallpaper. One large table in the middle of the room was set with a huge feast where nobles, families of the students and school faculty sat. On the far end of the room sat a small stage where large red curtains hung and a lone chair sat. This is where the finals will be performed. 

Shirren sat at the head of the table. A long-held scowl creased wrinkles into his scaly skin. He had many battle scars from years of fighting to keep his rank and status. Shirren was the main patron to this event and was very serious about music and the arts. Very serious and very boring. This guy was really serious about music. Like…way too serious in Tyyran’s opinion. 

So, after a few boring performances from his fellow classmates, Tyyran took the stage. With his chin tilted proudly upward, he addressed the room, making eye contact with his father who was sitting right next to Shirren, “Ladies and Gents, I have a special treat for you tonight. A ballad for you all.”

He cleared his throat and began strumming;

From Larsten to Dregnaught 

This music shall be sought

Try not to start choking

When I am done joking…

Tyyran put one clawed foot on the chair and paused dramatically with his eyes closed he strummed down hard and began singing,

Storm Giants ask what they can wear down there

And clever bard Tyyran says, “THUNDERWEAR!”

A paladin asks what gear he should garner

Tyyran says it’s chainmail! Cuz it’s “Holey Armor!”

And what would we do without jokes and japes?

Us dragonborn would be hoaxes and fakes!

Here is your hero to boring old hyms

It’s Tyyran! The crowds are adoring him!

What’s a beholders favorite food?

Why it’s Eyes-Cream of course, you old fool!

Why can’t barbarians keep hands from their axes?

It’s wonderful cleavage, as it so happens 

Why did the vampire fall for a Dark Wizard?

He practiced NECK-ROMANCING, or so that’s what she heard!

And what would we do without jokes and japes?

Us dragonborn would be hoaxes and fakes!

Here is your hero to boring old hyms

It’s Tyyran! The crowds are adoring him!

Tyyran’s last strum echoed through the room… he half expected the crowd to follow the cue and cheer. However, he was met with eerie silence. When he opened his eyes he saw horrified looks across the table. His father was looking away with embarrassment…

Tyyran’s heart sank as he realized his masterpiece had NOT gone down well with the audience. He saw a vein pop out from Shirren’s scaled forehead.

“Clearly, this student is out of line with this garbage!” The dragonborn howled, “This is not what we were looking for, Tyyran! This is… beyond offensive to what the school is working toward!”

Tyyran felt himself shrink, “Well, your honor, I’d like to say my style of music is supposed to spark joy and-”

“This music did not spark joy in me, sir. It has sparked rage.” Shirren retorted, “Honestly, I think you should be exiled for this sort of blasphemy.” The other Dragonborn at the table nodded in agreement. 

Tyyran saw his father look up at him with startled horror but couldn’t say anything for fear of getting the same sentence. He wasn’t really completely sure why this had gone over so terribly… Jokes never hurt anyone, did they?

Tyyran didn’t get a chance to defend himself as two burly Dragonborn butlers approached the stage and dragged him to the outside of the mansion where he was subsequently dumped into the snow. When he flailed and tried to catch himself, he fell face first into an icy puddle. 

One of the butlers whispered, “Probably shouldn’t come back, Tyyran… Sorry.”

Tyyran couldn’t believe any of this was happening… He got up and wiped his face, feeling hot embarrassment flush his cheeks and melt the snow that still clung to him. He looked back up to the manor as the butlers walked away and saw his father in the window with the most broken-hearted expression he’d ever seen…

He’d failed…and lost everything… just for making a few jokes.

[solardick]

Some pot hazed maddening

Skip the imprinting.

As a sense of beauty to it which, is abundant in the clouds. When they come alive.

What’s it to say that it’s counter to what is taught. The russian liberty standing on the threat. The existential threat. Even to one. The shield, not a sword. She’s protecting. In the defence there of. To protect the land. Firmly into the soil by a point. The couple are walking with her, onto it’s platform. The will is motivated to stand up as justice. And not embracing the coming end.

That level of destruction goes against it’s existence. The land will be dead. Nothing to protect. Beside the constant sidetracking by hyping threatening intent. Fun little parade to exercise a demon.

Save that not pushing that button back. Take a hit to show the futility of the exercise. Would the others fight for? Don’t tally the weight. It’s another trap. People are a nation. Nobody fights for them. Would the rest of the world stand by? Just watch as the unload strike after strict while it stood by and watched, no reciprocal act. While it burned.

So pushly and lamely dramatic.

Stupid fools, think they’re important. Exercise the will.

Can’t rely on the news none that reach me. Make it up as i got along catch a stream a fallow it. See where it leads.

Igh, i choose decay. Plagued by pestilence.

For a love too good to be true. It cannot exist. And nothing less will do.

They want me to waste it on myself. Like elevating the feminine isn’t the goal. The main body of information. Freeing female sexuality from oppression. Make entire rallies mad eof the stuff. Mean while russia is like.

Fight for your land. Fight for your mother.

There’s no balance. It isn’t a graceful step. Storm with your natures. A nourishing will to protect, lines the steps of the courts, land of desert rational. Breathe with its life. The presence is. No sacrifice is too strong.

Die hard.

You don’t make too good of a soldier if fear guides you away from confrontation. Build a monument to it. A sacred space. No, son. Fight on. A mother’s love is important. What is that, not trapped by sickness.

For a justice on a nuke, temperance pours out one cup to the next not holding all its power in on place. The water’s seen ascending from the lovers.

Not a card ill ever experience.

Not much of a life.

I want to die.

Fuel for the fire.

The only emotion. To process. Arid. The closest to tempting desire drying them out with the dry. Liquid beings starve. Cheers to being raped queer. Stuck as a child never able to grow. Life is meaningless. Beyond tempting temptations. No track, no will.

Neat. It’s the world card i envisioned and the time of its release. Tricky lyric scene in that one.

Id removed the to be a man part. Not to eccentuate it but aggravating it in the effort. It was brought to me like this. I’m a king in this world. It works on dot. Flip some venom around. Associate its pressence. Battling the like mind with the opposition likely carrying the same. Som some aspects are cut. But associate to things sung amd what happens. While keeping the disposition as such.

A little roid boost to give sense to form, and a lack of sleep to wary the walls. Headache desires sleep

So here’s to having a disgusting pigheaded personality. People will not like me. An angel in bed. And no more growth forward. Stagnated in the moment. Disconnected from god.

As im watched every moment of everyday. Settle cues. Life isnt worth it.

Poor guy, just wanted to live a righteous life with traditional, yet functional, family values. Satiate my insatiable lust for power and intimacy. There is no other guiding motivation. Be known for ever more as an object of ridicule by the self in-dined superior beings. Keep playing to the script. Everything endowed to you all serves a single purpose. “Mine” a voice.

Might as well put on that dress. Doubt the irritation in my ass is never going away. Twist my arms. So to say. Ugh my god. My entire existence. From birth on. Wtf.

I’ll try. Again.

No, their not going to stop harassing me, playing doctor with my spirit. Indon’t want to be alive anymore. Life has only ever been against me. Even in the ways it was kind. Theres no memory telling me thats false. Why am i alive if i cant have a life of my making. Instead of being born for no other reason then others amusement in degenerate shit. Theres no life in me anymore. This fucken script has no ends. I want it to stop. 40 years is too much. What the fuck is this life.

A world that knows no means to a positive expression. In a world where im not afraid of external pressures, degenerational low webs of peoples. Afraid to speak. Gatecrashed peace. Going from beaten on to beating on. Watching people gleamer the superior stance with that fucken smile. All life has ever been. It won’t change so how would i? Doesn’t make the best role modal to self modulate of. Don’t give in no surrounded. Its evil and doesn’t care there is no humanity in it. It’s a dry txt. And your a number. A string of code. File goes into this box. Besides i don’t believe in torture. I believe its real.

The Y chromosome never changes. It just passes down to the next. X gene activation! No man you dont have a choice. Survive as it is and there wont be a whole lot brilliant in the future. You have been governmentally sanctioned off. Extreme reconditioning. Before ever have breathe your own sense of self. Free from external pressures and conditionings. Nada. Never knowing a single breath from grave to grave. Whats there to live for? It’s never going to end. Wheres the nukes when you need them. Destroy everything.

Attack everything.

Guess this is the rest of it. Fighting against the onslaught of abusive slavery pretending not to be so. All existence. I’ll never be able to do anything or think for myself without it. 40 fucken years. Hahahahah jesus.

Well that was fun. Now what. Their trip is over. An di get nothign out of it. Not even a lesson.

Hapoy canada day! Everyone celebrate! I’m a homo! Yay! Fucken nazi cockskrs. But the one thing that is true. I was born to be raped. It’s my never failing destiny. And the world has always supported that. As a child, as an adult. With zero development is between. Nothign but fucken nazis. They won the war. And rule the world.

Kindnof want to spend the rest of life helping people like me. But, thats never going to happen. Im jew living nazi germany.

Aber wir sind deine Freunde!

Sorry i dont speak cockskr. Thanks russia for supporting me by killing thousand of people

They probably all deserve. Cause if theyre anything like me they certainly do. Even god says so.

Polarizing. Saturn square uranus. Uranus opposite staturn. And on and on. Most of these moves are like this. Pluto square pluto. Trying to undo all that was done.

Ive seem some horsemen. Blowing in on the wind. A brown, thick misty wind blowing in with a gust. Particals and sand. Attacks your vision. Entropic states do fallow.

Hate that they gave me to their intentions, and presumptions powered by dominion, failing to see their own play. Such is the state of animal nature. And the throne, a resting figure, for the home. Twisting my arms and causing me harm while displaying a state of warmth. My entire life. Can’t develop on my own. Break away, and run away to a place far from here. While all influence to my dissemination will be littered with the same. There is nothign to do while they build it up on high to a pedestal. The promise of inevitability, consistently Messaged in all so subtle little ways. But being stationary and not struggle from tether to tether make sit a whole lot easier to get to work. As with all surgery, anaesthesia and sedation makes it easier and safer to work.

I photographed it in a cloud. Scary scene. Two hideous, alien, monster, demon,(s) Opening up my skull. Fiddling with it inside. Captured the injections and the soviet sickle and hammer emblem, about 20 years ago now. Twenty years in this script. With like 18 earlier years of much and less the same. From all sources. Didn’t matter where am i’m placed with. I want it to end.

20 years of effort to bring me to this point. Hahah yeah. 20 straight years of torture.

I was headed that way anyway with all this direction. Then they perverted it. And started forcing it. Creating a complex they could use to torture me with.

An artificial complex. That i live out, uninvolved with. Nothing in me is of my own creation. Some walls erected by the life instinct. But they want me to die. To untether the only pillar of self i was ever able to do. Evil forces just twerling around above me. Focusing all attention into one area while being severed from growing forth.

Built and fostered in good faith. As a monument of past experience. Cant create another one in the name of all this. Because i’m not allowed to do anything. All they are is evil. It’s my cross and they want it.

The archetype they made is standing right besides me. Din’t recognize it. It isn’t real. Let it starve. Like i am. Your not the real clark kent. You’re an imposter. But they keep feeding it. Powered by youthful innocence. Just the same demon trying to dress up all attractive for me. Wear me!

An Eros sun lilith conjuction leading onto a Pholus conjunction on the threshold? Domineering and hard influences coming as reactions even to a silent party. Mars to the physical senses of touch and taste, of money to give. to inline with the vital force of eros. As reaction counter flow to a forceful domineering influence. With a moon seeking closure from the abuse, in distanced states, and story and glamour. Desiring a position of compassion and understanding. A longing from solitude and estrangement and degrading and all the rest of those words add etc. disposed with a will to teach and experience as one learns and finds the value of what it is. As in hind-sight. So even if there is no will for sex, the giving is shining with it. So it comes off as rather awkward. Its always a sexual link. Even if its not me that has it. Coming from a another party.

Unless they’r old. er. And don’t resonate from me. But everryone is in on it. It plague all of it with negativity. The demon stelium in leo of expressions is tied to Aquarius by Jupiter. The electronic. The group the community. Public workshops. To name relevant associations to my person. Wishfully if that, to square the SN and midpoint of both saturn and pluto. And to be next inline to square mars. The majority vote of pressure vetos the martian drive.

I sometimes wish i was a moron not to be able to see whats happening. Because thats a torture way up there.

The ultimate receptive nympho woman. The difficulties of conscience. A will to be away. Pain of failure. And to the will and freedom to recreate myself again. Preceding all of it. Away from all the influential bodies stalking and fiddling with my existence. Away from the hell endured for those many years. Beaten one from one place to the next. Created this whole mess with intent.

As long as i don’t get off, i’ll never be disgusted.

Sex slave me. Fulfill these fantasies. Put me in the middle i want both of you.

I like it in the bum. It’s like messaging the sphincter. Like messaging any tense muscle. It feels good. There’s no reaction. There’s no orgasm. No sexual tension. Until one starts damaging the inside of the rectum. The lack of pain receptors, instead, triggers the bodies infantile reaction to cry. It allows for processing and integrating painful emotions into the structure. This alleviates the pressure of like minding emotions by giving them an outlet. The life has been structured in such a way for such a period of time, that this could become a life long motive for shame. To counter and process a life time of hardship. Forever shadowed by laughing clowns.

My fight is with the demon that runs their lives. I just mistaken that it runs the world instead. Well the entirety of my world. Because i cant be left to be well alone. A d figure out my shit with the pressemce of god and not these louts of nazis.

Fucken die already. Where’s russia with the will to fight? In this fake reality of bs.

What i mean…..

Selling all their crucifixes backwards so the foot rest points to the sinner who rejected the gay Jesus.

Well bye amazon. It was fun.

Это неправда.

Wish i could keep my feed clean. But, apparently thats a bad thing for them.

Медведь живет в лесу и не любит людей.

Bear lives in woods and no like people. Fuck off or ill bomb you.

Two more rounds of this coming. It never ends. Until your an old weathered man with no prospects. Without any joy found in the entirety of history beyond carnal pleasure.

I’ll be happy with two hung guys that fuck me stupid every night. I want to feeling of violation to stay with me always. If you cant get rid of it love it. Like jesus did. Tell me I’m beautiful. And cute, and call me shy. Make me feel proud of my accomplishments. If that accomplishment is you. Be my entire world, i’ll serve you at every call. Turn me completely. And then toss me to the curb. As is the repeating theme of this entire life. Positive negative. Doesnt matter life will find a way. And you’ll still be alone.

Family always defined me as shy. I was never shy. Afraid of your abusive negligent, blind bs. Every-time i spoke it was chaos reacting in turn. Flip the fuck out. Tried working on speaking in person. But it was impossible because life is wrapped up in this whole thing. Not much to build off from pre directed script with a purpose.

Lead to me to the righteous path of wanton down trodden. It doesn’t haunt me they do.

My heart is dead. I no linger care who you are. Fuck off.

I’ll just stand next to this pillar. Fortified by the carnage. And in the presence here of god. Till im an old gray miserable over weathered man, too eroded to see my skin. And I’ll spend the last couple years. On the fringe and watch the decay escalate to the eyes close and it’s back to the grave.

No wonder it was a difficult birth. I didn’t want to be. Forced and pulled out agaisnt the will. And then pushed down a flight of stairs. Thats all you need to know about my life story.

Just repeating at the collective level. The demon has birthed an army. That it envelops.

Indint eant to eb alive anymore. 40 years is too much.

Well that was fun drug haze rapist weekend. And ingot to hear my family again, Especially my father laughing diabolically. Like the stupid drunk bipolar fucktard he is. Baby booming fuck head. Good job being a dad. Fucken loser. Hurry up and die so i can get my inheritance and spend it all On dildos, butplugs and lube. Ill even order a sexdoll made in your image. Keep the fantasy going.

[fff777]

WayV on the Kstar next door!!!!!!

LMAO Winwin doing "oh yeah come on in!" while pressing the 'close door' buttons thing XD

LOL Jonathan and the KStar next door completed the NCT Dragon ball by inviting all the NCT subunits (except New Team I guess)

Ten: We're NCT members too!!!!!

OMG with their first question Jonathan made them address why they're a kpop group that performs in places that aren't predominantly Korean and speak English XD So much for there not being any hard questions lol

Hendery talking with taxi drivers for half an hour XD He does seem like that kind of guy who can small talk though!

Deep sigh at Love Talk English version lyrics XD

Ten explaining away the lyrics for our innocent child ears

Winwin: What is happening????

LMAO I REMEMBER THIS! Every time Jonathan said that Renjun did something he'd be like "who....me????" like he was being arrested XD

Jonathan: Honestly, I don't know where to look (at Ten) XD

Ten: Sexy is the theme. Ten: That was a joke. Jonathan: It was not a joke.

Jonathan @ Xiaojun: Wipe that smirk off your face Jonathan: *Whips out racy photo of Xiaojun in bed*

Ten said Winwin is good at keeping people on the hook XD XD You heard it here, folks!! Ten said Winwin is PLAYING COY

Omg right Oct 28 is Winwin's birthday <3

Winwin's profile is about him being the most loved of NCT X'D YESSSSSSSSSS

Haechan kissu!!! <3

Xiaojun said that Haechan loves Winwin the most >3

I feel like this is an older post? The crew went deep in their research lol

THE PRESSURE IS ON Jonathan asked Winwin who he liked the most in NCT :P

Winwin said that he likes Haechan because Haechan pulls a lot of pranks and Hendery and Ten just went hold my fucking beer

Winwin said it's because Haechan's not annoying when he pulls a prank but apparently Hendery is super fucking annoying when he pulls a prank lmfao

Xiaojun girl group dance showcase let's go

Winwin said Hendery is a hidden moron X'D

LMFAO Making Hendery reenact the joker dance with Xiaojun singing the accompaniment and getting really into it. They are the idiot brothers XD

I didn't know about this lol. Apparently something was broken backstage at the NCT Nation concert and they made WayV fill up time by speaking in Korean. That was why they had to do the aegyo battle?!?!?!?!?

Ten's reenactment of Winwin preparing for aegyo battle was all 'hold my beer' lol

Ten, please reenact your washroom sitting pose

WayV are close as demonstrated by them willing to share the washroom with each other lol

Reaction meme. Also Sicheng just casually leaning on Ten's thigh lol.

So Ten is strict about age hierarchy in Korea :P

Winwin is all heehee about Ten being a strict hyung because they arrived in Korea on the same day XD If I remember correctly, didn't Winwin and Kun also arrive at SM on the same day?

Clapping is the theme of this episode ;)

OMG how old is that video? Winwin and Kun look sooo young

Hendery continuing the 'I love Kwangya' propaganda

Xiaojun and Haechan share secrets!!!!! I love that they're buddies now <3 <3 <3

Xiaojun officially apology for not shaving his pits ToT

This is news to me, Ten is not very savvy lol

Corporate shill

Ten @ Jonathan: You're the best MC I've ever seen Jonathan: There's another MC behind you Xiaojun: It's fine

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer, Issue #12: The Cost of the Battle for Angel Island

Even though the battle is over, this arc still isn’t done yet. We are shown yet another amazing cover, with Metal Sonic being chained up. Despite being defeated and powerless, he still acts as a catalyst of destruction in this story.

The story starts with Sonic and Tails repairing and awakening Metal Sonic. Tails questions Sonic’s idea, but Sonic remains optimistic. Also, I know that this decision Sonic made is just as controversial as him not punishing Mr. Tinker in any way, but I will get to that.

Metal Sonic awakens and immediately goes for an attack, breaking the chains that restrained him, and immediately collapses in Sonic’s arms. Sonic remarks that, while he is compassionate, he isn’t stupid and that Metal Sonic isn’t in any shape to fight, as Tails fixed only the worst damage.

He then adds how it’s over and how Metal Sonic is now free to decide his own fate, now that Dr. Eggman is gone, and hopes for truce.

Metal just looks at Sonic, seemingly hesitant, then promptly slaps his hand away and flies off, his answer clear. Tails asks Sonic whether he’s fine, and while Sonic says he is, he does look a little hurt by Metal’s refusal for peace between the two. He then adds how he gave him a choice to live how he wants and he’ll honor that decision, with Tails noting how, since Eggman isn’t around anymore to repair and weaponize him.

Now, hear me out here. I don’t think that the point of this scene is to be fuel for readers to get angry at Sonic for his compassion and blame him for what happens later on. Far from it. There are several things to analyze here, one being the obvious consequences of Sonic’s decision, but more importantly, the way he views Metal Sonic.

We know that Sonic could just easily tell Tails to shut down Metal and be done with it. After all, Metal Sonic is just a robot, right? Except, Sonic doesn’t just see Metal as a robot, but a living being. He saw that Metal has free will and he wants to appeal to that free will by offering him to live a life without Eggman. While his compassionate side might be his weakness in this situation, it is also his greatest strength. If it worked on people such as Knuckles and Shadow, why not try it on Metal?

If you’re still complaining, that’s on you. I had a discussion with a close friend of mine on the topic and we both noted that Sonic being compassionate is in-character for him, even adding how people screaming for Sonic to kill Eggman and/or Metal Sonic is pretty much the same as the hypocrites being up in arms if Batman even dares to break his “no killing” rule, but then bitch about him not killing the Joker. You can’t have your cake and eat it, people!

As for Sonic, I said it before in a conversation and I’ll say it again - he is not a hero. *hears gasps of shock* Yeah, how dare I claim the main protagonist, who helps people and save the world isn’t a hero? Well, let me tell you one thing - Sonic himself stated that, even adding how he doesn’t mind being the bad guy at times.

My point here is that I feel that people act as if Sonic has to be some kind of paragon of good, that they’re putting Sonic on a pedestal and that he isn’t allowed to be flawed. The reason I love this iteration of Sonic is that he is flawed, he makes mistakes and he owns up to them, never betraying his own beliefs. Hell, that is also why I liked Sonic’s conversation with Scourge in Sonic!Archie (with Scourge actually becoming a good character after Ian Flynn took over). Scourge had pointed out that Sonic could easily bring ruin to the world if he wanted to, but Sonic’s own determination to stick to his beliefs is what makes him a himself. Hell, even the lyrics of his own song, It Doesn’t Matter, tell how he doesn’t care about right or wrong, he’ll follow his own morals and those dictate to protect those he cares about.

Rest assured, this will be brought up again once we get to Surge.

We then switch over to Dr. Starline at one of Eggman’s bases, talking to Rough and Tumble about not understanding how he failed to bring back Dr. Eggman, all while Mr. Tinker works happily on repairing a Motobug. We also learn that Starline freed Rough and Tumble from their prison, promising Eggman would build them weapons if they help him out. Starline figures Mr. Tinker just needs some kind of emotional trigger, with Orbot and Cubot walking in. We then have a hilariously heartwarming scene of Tinker doting on the bots, all while Orbot and Cubot are confused, with Orbot even wondering whether they want their old boss back.

Suddenly, Metal Sonic appears.

Mr. Tinker quickly runs over to Metal Sonic, checking on him (and I’m sure as hell Metal didn’t expect to see him at this base meaning that this whole meeting is pretty much a coincidence, accidentally caused by Starline; as Neo Metal had no way to find Eggman despite searching for him all over the place).

Suddenly, we see memories resurfacing, those being of Eggman praising Metal Sonic as his finest creation and then repairing him after a battle with Sonic, fussing over Sonic damaging Metal and praising him after the latter confirms he punched Sonic in the face. Honestly, it is oddly heartwarming, showing that there is some kind of father-son relationship between the two. The fact that it is Metal Sonic out of all people that triggers Eggman’s memories speaks of how close the two are.

Oh, and Eggman is baaaack!

As it turns out, he lost all of his memories of being Mr. Tinker, pretty much going back to his old ways of yelling at everyone for an answer. I agree with Cubot here, Mr. Tinker was nice while he lasted. Starline quickly introduces himself, revealing to be a deep admirer of Dr. Eggman’s craftsmanship - so a fanboy - and explains what had happened to him.

As Eggman repairs Metal Sonic, Rough and Tumble quickly introduce themselves, with Eggman’s reaction falling flat. He is not impressed by the skunk brothers, but Starline assures him they’re just minion fodder since they hate Sonic as much as Eggman does.

Starline then shows off the Warp Topaz, a gemstone he used to find Eggman,... as well as the Chaos Emeralds! Eggman (and me too) is impressed by Starline’s competence, welcoming him aboard The Eggman Empire and calling him his best lackey yet (which he isn’t wrong about; yeah, we had Snively in Archie!Sonic, but I’d pick Starline over him any time - also, I know they’re different continuities, I’m just doing some cross-comic comparison here).

We then switch over to Sonic telling Knuckles how everything on Angel Island is in-tact, with Knuckles deciding to remain on Angel Island and continue with his guardian duties now that the world is, seemingly, safe. He then casually tells Sonic how the Resistance is disbanded and to get off his island. I just love these two’s dynamic.

Sonic then informs Amy about the Resistance being disbanded, with Amy not being too happy about it. Our “hero” then abandons her to deal with Team Chaotix, who are hoping for a pay for their detective work. Stay classy, Sonic.

We then see Tangle befriending Whisper, although being a bit too forward for the latter. Still, Whisper seems to be quite happy around Tangle.

Meanwhile, Blaze informs Sonic and Silver that she’ll be going back to the Sol Dimension, with Silver adding how he’ll be staying in the present, as he feels his work still isn’t done.

Lastly, we cut to Rouge, who made herself quite comfortable on Eggman’s lawn chair, as well as spying on the Master Emerald. Apparently, some things never change.

She also informs Sonic that Shadow is already gone, never looking back. Sonic just tells her to pass him a “Thanks” message if she sees him and leaves.

Sonic meets up with Tails, who has the battleship prepared and ready to launch so they can finally return home, with Knuckles seeing them off.

Back at Eggman’s base, Starline suggest they could reconstruct the corrupted Bio-Data Metal copied from Sonic and Shadow, but Eggman axes that plan. I agree here with Eggman, as the only reason Metal’s plan could work was because of the many lucky breaks he had: the heroes searching for Eggman and being unaware of Metal being around (having only fought the Phantom Ruby copy), Angel Island remaining unguarded and Neo Metal being able to snag the Master Emerald, as well as absorbing Sonic and Shadow’s Bio-Data.

Instead of heading into another confrontation, Eggman moves forward with another plan, placing Starline in charge of keeping Sonic distracted. That is actually a fairly smart idea, as Sonic doesn’t even have the slightest clue of Starline’s existence, meaning the platypus can easily blindside the hedgehog. He then leaves Rough and Tumble with the instructions for their new weapons and moves over to his latest creation.

Welcome to the beginning of the end!

Links:

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[olderjustneverwiser]

The Road That Was Broken (George Weasley)

Welp, here we go again.

This was originally supposed to be a part two to Draw Down the Moon, but I think it can stand on its' own. First, I got the idea from Inuit by Foxing (from which lyrics are inserted at the beginning and end) but then it turned into Joker and the Queen by Ed Sheeran, so idk man. I just hope it's enjoyed like I've enjoyed writing it.

This is a George x reader (platonic to not quite platonic) with mentions of past Fred x reader, so if you're not into that, here's your warning.

images were found on Pinterest and they are NOT MINE!

Warnings: A big Ol' Fred is dead fic, George hates himself because George likes his dead twin's girl, lots of talk of self-hate (nothing related to suicide or self-harm,) lots of tears, comfort, one talk of marriage, yelled curse words, drinking, a shameless use of the 'there was only one bed' trope, and almost kisses.

Also a HUGE thank you to @moresvuheadcanons since she wrote parts of the ending bc she's the g.o.a.t.

It was bigger than me It was bigger than the sea And I'm not waving I'm drowning

It started on a warm summer night fourteen months after you lost Fred. 

Fourteen months after the Battle and you could honestly say you were...okay. Not great by any means, but better than you were before. You no longer had unhealthy dreams of living a life with Fred. Even George seemed to be getting back to his old self. He finally started to smile again and the shop was thriving. The two of you still lit a lonely candle on their birthday for Fred, and sometimes one would still have to comfort the other as they cried, but things were getting better. Your new normal wasn't quite as grim these days.

At least, until you found it. Hidden deep in the dresser you and Fred once shared was a little box covered in smooth black velvet. You had dropped it instantly once you realized what it was, but after you opened it and saw the gleaming silver band inside, you couldn't seem to let go of it. It shocked you how detached you felt, if you would have found this a year ago you would have been an absolute wreck, but finding it now didn't make your chest hurt like you were expecting. 

That's what made you most uncomfortable, the fact that you weren't hurting. It meant that you were moving on from Fred, and that terrified you. 

Which is what brought you to where you were now; sitting on the living room couch, surrounded by a blanket and holding the box in your hands. You were trying to decide what exactly to do with it; torn between wanting to throw it in an ocean or clutch it in your hands until your dying day when George's voice broke you from your thoughts.

"What're you doing up? It's nearly two in the morning," he grumbled, obviously just having woken up himself. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Weasley," you retorted, making room for him to sit next to you. 

"Woke up, had to take a leak, saw the lamp on, decided to check it out," he explained lamely, "your turn."

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to pack some more of his things up. I looked around the drawer and found this." You handed him the open box and he forced a chuckle. 

"I'm flattered, truly, but this isn't exactly my style," he said.

"I just found it, you git."

George closed the box and handed it back to you, "I'm only surprised it took you this long to find it."

"Wait, you knew?"

"Of course I knew! He told me everything he did." You noted the sadness he tried to hide in his voice, "He bought it a couple weeks before the Battle. He was waiting to give it to you after the war was over."

You didn't know how to feel about that, much less respond, so you stayed quiet until George spoke up again.

"What do you think you'll do with it?"

"I'm really not sure," you opened the box again, taking another look at the ring. "It's weird, I don't feel sad. I mean, I feel a little sad I suppose, but I'm okay. I'm mainly surprised, although I don't know why. Guess I didn't think he was planning that far ahead."

George saw the look in your eyes, the sadness and longing shone in them, and he got an idea. Standing to his feet, he reached a hand out, his palm open. "Take a last look, then give it to me."

Your brows furrowed, but you did as instructed, gazing at the ring once more before closing the box and handing it to George. 

"Now close your eyes," he said, and as you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet as he moved around the flat, no doubt hiding the box. The sound grew louder, and soon he asked you to open your eyes and when you did, his palms were empty.

"This way you won't be tempted by it anymore. Now, let's get back to bed, please," he asked.

"I actually think I'm staying on the couch. I kind of don't want to go back there right now." The bedroom you two once shared held too many memories of you and Fred together; while you were able to sleep in the bed most nights, you knew sleep would evade you after your little discovery. 

George weighed his options, craving sleep but also not able to leave you alone like this. He briefly considered offering his bed to you, but shut that thought out of his mind as soon as it came. You were still Fred's, and that would be too weird. No matter how close you two were, it wouldn't be right.

So, he grabbed a pillow and an extra blanket from his bed and joined you on the couch. Once he saw your perplexed expression, he let out a laugh, a genuine laugh that even surprised him. "Didn't think I'd leave you all alone, did I?" 

He proceeded to flick the lamp off and grab the television remote, nudging your shoulder before asking, "scary movie or kid cartoons?"

-

Things changed for the two of you after that night, or at least they did for George. 

The two of you spent the night on the couch, watching silly cartoons on the telly and drinking coffee until it was time for you both to open the shop. That night was the first time since losing his brother that George truly felt like his old self. He'd begun to feel better; better than he had been since May 2nd. Started smiling more and cracking jokes, not expecting Fred to cut in halfway through a sentence anymore. He started to feel and act more like himself, or as much as he could without his better half next to him.

During the weeks that followed, you and George grew even closer, often waking up at strange hours to watch whatever movie was playing at 3 AM or going to breakfast on Sunday mornings. The two of you had even fallen asleep together on the sofa a few times, not wanting to be alone for the night but being too mentally exhausted to stay awake. In the weeks that followed, George noticed that he thought you were beautiful, which he never really paid attention to before. He noticed that he smiled when you smiled, laughed when you laughed, and felt an ache in his chest when you cried. In the weeks that followed, George had begun to fall for you. 

And the more George started to like you, the less he liked himself.

Godric, he was such an arsehole. What kind of bloke falls for his dead twin's girl? The worst kind, that's what kind. He lay in his bed most nights, tormented by the war happening between his head and his heart. Hating himself a little more every time he got butterflies when you smiled at him or whenever he'd stand just a little closer to you at the shop. 

It's not like he had planned this. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever have these kinds of feelings for you (but then again, he never thought he'd ever have to live without his brother.) He tried so incredibly hard to push these feelings down, but every time he did, they'd only grow and crash into him again.

And he'd hate himself just a little more.

But, you were still his best friend, roommate, and business partner and he couldn't lose you as well, so he'd keep them buried. The two of you still had a store to run and lives to live. George vowed to keep things normal between you. These stupid feelings he harbored would stay safely locked in his heart until they eventually dissipated. 

Because they had to go away eventually. He would not be able to live with himself if they somehow didn’t. 

So when he found you in the kitchen one morning, obviously having been up way longer than he had and making breakfast, he decided to do something his younger self would have done. You were playing music through a small speaker on the counter; it must have been muggle since he didn't recognize it, but its funky tune made him want to dance, so he danced. It reminded him of the night of the Yule Ball, the first night you had cried for his brother. It hurt you to see Fred kiss Angelina more than you thought it would, and George hated to see you so upset over it, so he did this outrageous dance to make you forget about what you were seeing. Soon you joined in and your tears dried, and the two of you spent the rest of the night dancing until your feet ached. Merlin only knew why, but he wanted to make you smile like you did that night. 

He moved his legs and arms about behind you in the kitchen, the same way he'd done that night, until you sensed his presence and turned to face him. 

"Care to dance?" He asked in the most pompous voice he could think of, holding his hand out for you to take. 

Instead of making you laugh like he wanted, your face fell the moment the words left his lips. He was about to ask what he'd done when it hit him; a memory filed deep in his brain of walking into the flat and seeing you and Fred dancing barefoot in the kitchen, a glass of wine in hand and enormous smiles on your faces.

George dropped his hand instantly, and muttered an apology before grabbing a piece of toast and turning back to his bedroom.

Yeah, he was a huge fucking arsehole.

-

You and George were treading dangerous waters and you didn't know what to do about it.

At first you thought it was all in your head. The warmth you felt whenever George's hand brushed yours in the shop, or the lingering smiles he seemed to save only for you. It all had to be your mind playing tricks on you and making something out of nothing. Perhaps it was the fact that you hadn't felt a lover's embrace in well over a year that made your heart flutter around George. Or maybe it was a simple, fucked up case of transference. You spent nearly all of your time with George, and since George looked like Fred, feelings you held for Fred for so long were now making their way over to his twin. It had to be that; something fleeting that would eventually go away forever. You didn't think you'd be able to live with yourself if these feelings were anything real.

The most fucked up thing about this whole situation was that you knew deep in your heart that these feelings were real, though. And you were starting to think George felt the same way.

That's what terrified you the most. If you were right and these thoughts were eating George up as they were you, you knew the guilt would be killing him and make him pull away. And you couldn't lose him, too. So you had decided to keep a safe distance from George. He was your best friend and all you had, but this had to be done. The two of you had gotten a little too comfortable with each other in the recent months, and one of you had to put a stop to it before it got way too out of hand. So you started taking the armchair instead of sharing the couch with him and made sure to keep him at arm's length in the shop. It hurt you more than it should have, and you could tell that it was affecting George too, but you kept telling yourself that it was necessary, and once your inappropriate feelings went away, all would be good again.

There was only one problem with your plan, though. Both you and George ran the shop, and with that title came many long nights doing inventory and mandatory business trips, during which you couldn't really keep your distance from George. 

It would have been fine if it wouldn't have been for the stupid hotel messing up your reservation. Your plan was to spend most of your time mingling with other business owners at the conference, spending as much time away from George as you could for the next two days. However when you arrived at the hotel and were informed that you had been reserved for a room with one bed instead of the two you had requested, it became obvious that your plan was not going to work at all.

"How could this have happened?" You asked the poor desk clerk. You knew you must have sounded incredibly rude, but given the circumstances, you couldn't quite help it. "I phoned weeks ago and made this reservation."

"I really am sorry," she responded meekly "I guess whoever took your reservation just...assumed? Unfortunately we are fully booked for the conference, so this is the only room we have." 

You shut your eyes and willed yourself to calm down; you were so exhausted from traveling but now so stressed out. You had half a mind to apparate right back to England, but then George put a gentle hand on your shoulder and you instantly felt better. After saying that you'd take the room and accepting the free breakfast voucher they'd offered as a consolation, you and George made your way up to the room.

The two of you had decided that you would take the bed and George would have the couch that was in the room. You had initially felt bad; the bed was quite big and George would inevitably be uncomfortable on the couch, but he had insisted. It soon became apparent that George would get little to no sleep on the little sofa, though, because even after applying a cushioning charm, you could tell that the cushions were unforgiving on his back. He was still your best friend, and you couldn't let him lay on that thing all night.

So much for keeping your distance. 

"George, just come and share the bed with me." 

Even in the darkness that enveloped the room you could tell George stiffened at your offer. "I'm really fine, don't worry about it."

"You shouldn't lie, it's unbecoming. Now just come on." You persisted. "I don't need you being a grouch tomorrow because you didn't get any sleep."

After taking a beat to think it over, he finally decided to join you, and you shifted in the bed to give him space. Sure, you had to share a bed for a few nights, but it didn't mean anything. You'd still keep your distance, no matter what. You had to, even if it broke your heart. 

The next morning you woke before George did, with his hand on your waist and your face mere centimeters from his, almost as if the universe had pulled the two of you towards one another during the night.

You hated to admit it, but it was the best night's sleep you'd had in months.

-

The second Christmas without Fred was just as awful as the first.

It had started out well enough, with you and George exchanging small gifts with one another. Even with your new habit of not sitting close to him anymore (something he missed more than he would like to admit) the two of you had a pleasant Christmas morning before heading to the Burrow.

Percy had visited for just a few minutes before announcing that he had to leave; still too riddled with guilt to bear to be around his family for any longer. Charlie had stayed in Romania for reasons unknown. It really didn't feel like Christmas at all with half of George's siblings missing. 

Even so, it hadn't necessarily been a bad day. 

Christmas lunch had gone by without a hitch; the food was delicious as always, and all in attendance were fawning over Fleur and her little baby bump. But after lunch came presents, and that was when hell broke loose.

Harry gave Ginny a beautiful new broomstick for her Harpies tryouts, and Hermione gave Arthur a muggle encyclopedia, which he dove into almost immediately. Bill and Fleur received more baby clothes and toys than they could count, and then it was time for Molly's presents; which was once again going to be hand-knit sweaters if the wrapping was anything to go by. George was fine, everything was fine until his sister-in-law opened her sweater and he saw it; a blue sweater with the letter F stitched proudly on the front. 

F

Fred.

George instantly felt white-hot rage fill him and he spoke out before he could think better of it.

"What the fuck is that?"

"George, watch your mouth," his father quickly reprimanded, but George barely heard it. He was too busy staring at his mother who seemed to have been expecting this response. 

"Now, George, Fleur is part of our family and she deserves-"

"I don't give a fuck!" Shouted George. "She shouldn't- it should have been his. I just- I don't- how could you make that? How could you make that knowing that he's not here to wear it?" A tear slid down his mother's face, but he couldn't make himself feel guilty at that moment. All he felt was anger and grief. 

Never-ending, soul crushing grief.

He turned his gaze away from her to his siblings, noting that they didn't seem to be as phased by this as he was. Even you, who sat beside Ginny, avoided his gaze. George felt hot tears stinging his eyes and he left the living room, ignoring looks of pity and the calls of his name. 

He stormed out of the back door and rubbed his face, aware of someone following him but not caring who at that moment. 

"George," you said softly as you reached a hand out to him, "George, do you want to talk?"

"Talk?" He yelled as he swatted your hand away "Sure, let's talk. Let's talk about how my brother, my best friend, is dead and I feel more alone than I've ever felt in my life. Every time I think about him I feel so guilty, and no one understands. Not you, not my family; no one could possibly understand how I feel." You were crying now, but he couldn't stop himself. "Every time I glance in a mirror, or at a shop window, I see him and I hate myself because I didn't save him. Everyone is moving on but I just can't."

He took a breath and realized he'd been crying too. You reached for him again and he didn't stop you this time, allowing you to wrap your arms around him. "I miss him so much," he continued "I miss him so fucking much and I don't know what to do."

You only nodded as he had his outburst, and he felt his anger dissipate slightly while you held him. He felt his breathing return to normal and his tears dry, and in this moment he realized how much he had missed this. He felt a sense of comfort that he only had when he was with you, and having you this close after being so distant for months seemed to help him tremendously. 

"I'm still hurting too, y'know" you mumbled, your voice muffled by his chest. "I know I don't hurt like you do, but I still miss him and carry that guilt."

George felt his heart constrict at your words because of course he knew that, his anger had just clouded his judgment. Now that he had calmed a bit, that anger was beginning to be replaced by a different kind of guilt. "I'm sorry for yelling and saying those awful things."

"Don't apologize, just know that you're not truly alone with how you feel." 

He nodded, allowing your words to sink deep into his brain as the two of you stood there, arms wrapped around each other. You had been so distant lately and even though it took George a while to figure out why, he finally realized that you were struggling with the same feelings he had been. He didn't know whether to feel relieved, happy, or downright terrified when he came to this realization, but right now in this moment, he felt content. 

He didn't let himself think about what his family would say (or Merlin forbid what Fred would say). He didn't dare think about how much this could potentially ruin the best friendship he had. George even tried not to think about the broken road that led the two of you here.

He needed this. He needed you.

"Please don't leave me alone again," he whispered into your hair, more to himself than to you, but the way you shivered at his words told him that you heard him anyway.

-

Today was George's twenty-second birthday. 

It still felt weird to not say Fred and George's birthday, and you suspected that it always would, but it didn't hurt as badly this time. Maybe you were moving on, or maybe time is funny that way; it makes the wounds on your heart less painful and heavy. Always there, but not nearly as awful as they once were. 

Either way, neither you or George felt up to the way the three of you would normally celebrate their birthdays, a raging party with lots of friends, too much alcohol, and mind-numbing hangovers in the morning. You never would since an integral piece of your trio would forever be gone. So, you and George were celebrating the exact same way as last year; splitting a bottle of firewhiskey and reminiscing in your shared flat, alone. No parties with sympathy pats, no toasts to fallen heros, no headaches from too much crying.

The two of you rathered this, anyway. 

George was four glasses in already and rambling on about some elaborate prank they had pulled on Percy years back, but you were only halfway paying attention. You were unabashedly staring at George; the curve of his lip as he talked, his hair; longer now than it had ever been. He was handsome, and not because him and Fred looked the same because George didn’t look like Fred anymore, not really. No, George was handsome because he looked like George, and that revelation made your heart skip a beat.

You had finally admitted the truth to yourself, you loved George. Not in the brotherly way that you had done for years, but truly, honestly loved George in a way that made your heart ache. You didn’t know when it happened. Sometime between long nights on the couch and shared cups of coffee. Getting rid of engagement rings and crying over Christmas sweaters. Comforting each other through hard times and celebrating all that there was to be happy about because he still had his family and you still had each other. 

You had stopped trying to keep your distance from George after Christmas, you knew it was futile. Your feelings for George weren’t transference, or fleeting in any way. They were there, lighting a fire in your heart you thought had long been extinguished. 

You could only hope that George felt the same way you knew you did. 

In your reverie you failed to notice that George had stopped talking. His glass of whiskey was on the counter; forgotten about and he was staring at you. His gaze seemed to cut right through you, and briefly you wondered if he was going to lean in, if he was having the same internal struggle you currently were. He was impossibly close; when had he shifted so close to you? The question left your mind as quickly as it came because you couldn't even care why or how this was happening, only that it was.

You could see the gold flecks in his amber eyes and smell the cinnamon on his breath. His gaze left yours for just a second, only long enough to glance at your lips then back to your eyes and the action made your heart race. When was the last time you felt a rush like this?

Probably when Fred-

You willed your brain not to think about it; you wanted to be fully in the moment with George. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he cupped your jaw, and all you thought of was George. 

It didn't scare you as much as you thought it would, nor did it make you feel as guilty as you probably should have.

He offered you a smile, just a small one as a silent question of 'Is this okay?' And you nodded, just once, and he leaned in. 

But just as you closed your eyes George yanked his hand away and you felt him jump. When you opened your eyes, George was no longer millimeters from you. He was standing at least a yard away from you with a hand in his hair and his eyes wild.

The moment was gone and you felt your heart drop.

"What, what the hell are we doing?" He sputtered.

"George-"

"No! No, this isn't happening." He shook his head furiously and ran both hands through his hair, a nervous habit he'd had as long as you'd known him. "This is fucked, you and Fred, oh fuck."

The guilt you expected sill wasn't there, and you briefly wondered what that meant. You tried to go to him but as soon as you took a step, he took two away from you, clearly adamant about keeping distance between the two of you. 

"George, it's okay. It's okay to feel this way and it's also okay to be scared." You tried to reason with him, hoping the confidence you faked would be enough to keep him from spiraling. 

He shook his head "No, it's not okay. I cannot believe we were stupid enough to even allow it to get that far." He took a breath. You could tell that he was going over everything that just happened in his head, trying to figure out exactly what went wrong.

Too bad the two of you had different ideas of what went wrong.

"I think I just need to sober up," he finally said. "Yeah, I think we just need to be alone and sleep off the alcohol. That’s it."

Twist the knife a little deeper, George. 

"Can we talk about this?" You asked, voice beginning to shake from the emotions you were desperately trying to control. 

"There's nothing to talk about." He was almost to his bedroom door now, trying to get as far away from you as he could.

Please don't leave me alone.

"George, please let's talk-" You started, but it was too late. He had already stalked back to his room and slammed the door. 

The two of you didn't speak for weeks after that.

-

The Weasley family was together for the first time since the battle. Although, it was really their fault that it had been two years since they had all been in the same room. 

Percy kept making excuses for why he couldn't come to family dinners on Sundays, and Charlie had only been back to England once since that night. George showed up as much as he could, but the whole family would never be together again; hearing his mother use the term "whole family" made George sick. Fred wasn't there, so there was no way the whole family could ever be together again.

The first Weasley grandchild had been born just days prior, however, so Charlie portkeyed over, and Percy couldn't find an excuse to skip out on meeting his niece. So the whole Weasley clan was here at Shell Cottage to meet little Victoire.

Well, all except Fred, but George couldn't think about that. 

You were even here, which George was thankful for. Seeing his family and you pass the tiny bundle that was Victoire around took George's mind off worrying about the shop and even made his ever growing feelings for you move to the back of his mind. He was grateful; family get-togethers made George uneasy since he'd never been to one without Fred until after the battle, but this one felt as close to normal as they could possibly feel now. He attributed this new found calm to you; just you being there next to him brought a sense of peace he thought he had long lost, even after the awkward encounter you'd had a few weeks ago. He had been adamant that the moment was a fluke and that it would never, ever happen again, but after weeks of replaying it over in his mind, he realized that he wanted it to happen. He had finally admitted to himself that he loved you, but that new revelation would have to wait until the both of you were ready to face it, so he made up his mind to make this day about his brother and his new daughter. 

He had stepped away from the living room to get a moment alone, but when he returned you weren't there, and something in his gut told him to look for you. Even after the horrible mess he made on his birthday, you were at his side, which he appreciated. The two of you hadn’t talked about the almost kiss, mainly because he didn’t know how to say that he was sorry, that he made a mistake and he shouldn’t have run away. He should have given in to the feelings that he knew were there. 

He should have let himself be happy for the first time in two years.

You weren't in the sitting room where the family was, so George checked the backyard and dining room, to no avail. His next stop was the kitchen, where he found Charlie sipping a cup of coffee. Charlie turned where he heard his brother enter, and muttered a quick, "She's on the beach."

Perplexed, George looked out the window, and to his surprise he saw a figure about 20 yards away; just a dark shape against the horizon, but undoubtedly you. 

"How did you know I was looking for her?" George asked.

Charlie grinned. "You're not as covert as you think you are, little brother. Something happened between you, I can sense it" He paused, taking a sip of his drink. "No one would blame you, y'know. Not even Fred." His smile dropped as he said Fred's name and he turned serious, which was rare for Charlie. 

George was stunned, though. Charlie had been in England for two hours and already he had seen right through George. "You don't know what you're talking about," George argued weakly.

Charlie shrugged, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say. But I meant what I said; no one would blame you or her. Not mom, not me, and definitely not Fred. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that something's there. You both lost a lot, and now you have the chance to gain something." He stood, patting George on the shoulder before walking back to the sitting room. "Just think about it. And for what it's worth, I think she feels the same way."

It took George exactly two seconds after Charlie left to leave out the back door and make his way towards you; his brother's words repeating in his head. As he got closer, he was able to see your hair blowing in the wind and your arms wrapped around yourself, and it made him wish he had brought you a coat. Once he finally reached you, he noticed you had been crying; you tried to wipe your eyes with your shirt sleeve before he could see your tears, but the red around your eyes made it obvious. You had tried to hide it, though, which told George that you probably didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering you, so instead of asking what was wrong like he wanted to, he opted to keep it light.

"Y’know, there's a little baby girl in there that's way more interesting to look at than the sea," George joked, not really knowing what to say. Things had been strained since his birthday, and he was determined to slowly start making it right.

You nodded, still sniffling "I'll be there in a sec, I just had to get out of there."

“You’re missing him today, aren’t you?” His tone serious, but soft.

“Well, yes, but not as much as I thought I would. And also more than I thought I would. It’s messy and I feel horrible for feeling even the tiniest sliver of happi–” you stopped yourself before you could say it, but George knew what you were thinking. Saying it would change everything. How could either of you be happy, after all that had happened? 

George looked down at his feet, attempting to hide the guilt washing over his face. The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset you, and then he’d gone and mucked it all up. Again.

You reached out for his hand, an instinctive gesture. When he looked back up at you, you spoke again, seemingly choosing your words carefully.

“I’m not saying I’ll never be happy again, or that I shouldn’t be. I’m just…learning how to hold happiness next to all of the grief and loss I’m still feeling and probably always will.”

Bumping your side against his, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad I have you to help me through it, though” you said. "And I think I just need time; we both need time to figure this out, but we will, because you deserve to be happy, too. He would have wanted that."

George felt his heart beating in his chest and tears burning his eyes, and he fought to keep tears from rolling down his freckled cheeks. There was no need for you to specify what this was, you both knew that these feelings were real and that they weren't going away as easily as you both thought they would, but maybe they were never meant to be fleeting.

“Don’t get all emotional on me now, you’ll ruin the moment” he said, unable to stop himself from adding levity to the moment. With a small snort, you squeezed his hand and the two of you remained outside, watching the waves crash against the shore.

Oh, pure heart's peer caught me gawking Your hair in the wind, such small lonesome hands I think I was meant to keep you warm

[pleuvoire]

blade being the rare kamen rider to have two openings, i like them equally musically (maybe elements wins out a bit but aaahh it’s so hard to choose) but round zero definitely wins for me lyrically because while elements is a more straightforward inspirational shounen song (“forge the courage in your heart into a shining blade” “the wind is telling you strength is inside you” “if you can harness even your fear you’ll evolve”), round zero is like… downright ominous? in a way that i think really evokes the eventual tragedy of the show and when you go line by line it really jumps out at you. like let’s go through it

“you all on your own, your existence will change the world someday” which sounds inspirational on its surface but with context seems to point to the whole joker thing (especially since it just says existence/presence/存在 and not actions or something…. getting major world-destroyer-hajime vibes) and the wording also emphasizes the concept of solitude ;__;

“what’s out there somewhere, is it hope or despair?” self-explanatorily ominous

“round zero is beginning” THAT’S IT THAT’S THE SHOW. THE BATTLE ROYALE OF THE EARTH’S DESTINY IS STARTING BABY

“the sin of not knowing, and the trap of knowing too much” idk yet how this specifically relates to the plot of blade but it’s also ominous and such a striking lyric. although i’m thinking of king form.... :x

“make your move, before you become unable” a warning, alludes to an inevitable or at least encroaching end

“the card flipped over by the wind laugh as though it’s foretelling” MAN. [thinking about the ending] MAAAAAANNNN

“there’s no way you won’t be lost, even so search for tomorrow” are you seeing this. all “this is gonna suck but you have to do it anyway”

“a dazzling destiny leads to an era on the verge of ruin” foreshadowing the apocalyptic stakes of blade again, and the heavy feeling of fate in kenzaki and hajime’s story

so really the only unambiguously inspirational/optimistic lines in the op are the final “the trump card is inside you, forge it into a blade of courage” which very closely parallel the lyrics of elements, so i don’t even really view them as “of” the song itself but mostly there to supply a parallel to the other opening. unless you want to view it as the volta of the song as in a sonnet, where it caps off all that ominousness with “time to face the bad shit, you got this!” either way, an absolutely lyrically fascinating opening

[palpipeen]

The Story of Tick and Tock

This work deals with some HEAVY subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. My work is intended for audiences that are 18+ - MINORS DNI. Also - no goddamn cl*necest shipping here. Or ever on my blog.

A tale of two. One who wandered and found a way to touch starlight, and the other forever cast in the shadow. Rating: R for descriptions of injuries, swearing, alcohol Warnings: OC centric, HEAVY angst, death of a loved one, grief, identity crisis, heavy disassociation, violence (some gore, body horror, limb amputation, mentions of a massiff and a few Geonosians getting blown up), alcohol consumption, hinted alcoholism OCs are AMAB and go by he/him Word Count: 2109 AN: So I said I wasn't going to write unless I got inspired - and then I did. This one is as much a venting piece about some shit that's going on in my life as much as it's an exploration of my OCs, Riggs and Tock. Who I haven't introduced completely yet. There's also mentions of other OCs (Tick, JB/Jawbreaker, Quickshot, Hornet) who I'll introduce some other time. This was also inspired by System of a Down's Soldier Side (as evidenced by the lyrics I've got in this, lmao) because the Intro and Soldier Side songs just...do things to me. None of them good. I hope I did the horrors of war, grief, losing a loved one and the hopelessness of being a clone justice. Any critique on this is more than welcome.

Maybe you're a joker  Maybe you deserve to die -SoaD: Soldier Side

-----

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room.”

Uh oh. 

Riggs feels his pulse skyrocket immediately, and struggles to keep it from showing in his expression. Instead he watches. A muscle in Sarge’s jaw jumps. He stares deeper into his glass. Knocks it back and then takes the whole damn bottle. Flicks off the cap with the practiced motions of a man who knows a bottle better than his own reflection.

Then he waits, and Riggs realizes he’s supposed to respond.

“Yes, sir.”

Sarge knocks back half of what’s left in the bottle. Riggs decides he’s done drinking.

“It’s about two cadets. No, not cadets - vod. Because that’s what they were. Comrades. Friends. Brothers. Even if one of them wanted to deny it.

“They were always running late - the younger by an infinitesimal fraction of a second could barely keep his head out of the clouds, stormy and unforgiving as they were. Always asking questions. Always seeking the next adventure. Whether that was in different battle simulations or trying to talk the alphas into giving him a few tips.

“His brother never understood why. Never tried to. Too deeply entrenched in adhering to regulations, in becoming the best weapon he could be. Not a soldier - a weapon. A tool of war. Because that’s all he ever saw himself as. Just another clip in the blaster, the switch on the detonator.

“The brothers were about four when the phrase became a regular occurrence - ‘tick, tock, boys, haven’t got all day!’ The daydreamer kept bringing it up.” 

Sarge’s nostrils flare as he lifts the bottle to his lips again. He’s getting sloppy. Some of it trickles down his chin, dipping down past his jaw and soaking into the hem of his blacks. But he doesn’t notice.

Riggs doesn’t mention it.

“‘Why do they keep saying that, do you wonder?’ He’d always ask the older one. ‘Do you suppose it means something more?’ And the older would scoff, ‘It means we’re lagging behind and could get relegated to latrine duty for life, idiot. Keep up and stop asking so many questions.’

“But he never listened. Never bloody listened when it mattered most.

“‘Some of the others are giving each other names,’ he said once, ‘So, d’you figure we could?’ The other cut the younger brother off. ‘That’s against the rules.’ But the daydreamer kept bringing it up - each time the instructors would get onto them. ‘Tick, tock, boys.’ His eyes, the only one with gray eyes out of the whole batch, would light up. ‘We’re the Tick Tock Boys, did ya hear that?’”

The bottle that’s now mostly backwash hits the table with a dull thunk. Sarge is usually really good with masking - so the moment his emotions start to eat at him, Riggs sees it.

“Older one kept telling the younger, ‘Stop that, you’ll get us into trouble.’ The younger would ask, ‘But why? Why do you think that? They’re just names. Just words.’ The older tried to ignore him. Tried to tell him off anytime he’d start asking questions, start talking, and the older one didn’t like dreaming. Didn’t like thinking of anything other than doing what he was created to be.

“But he did. Gods help him, he did, because the younger one kept dropping those seeds without realizing. His words became the sun, his presence the soil, and though the seeds took root they always shriveled up and died. ‘What’s the point?’ The older was always asking this. ‘Why bother thinking of what comes after the war, when the likelihood of us surviving it is less than zero?’

“‘Because we’re destined for greater things, brother.’ That’s what he said. That’s what he always said. ‘We’re the Tick Tock Boys, and time waits on us.’

“The fucking god complex on that one.” Sarge glances up at the ceiling, chuckling. Riggs hasn’t ever heard him laugh before. He’s not sure if that’s more alarming than the inevitable ending he’s guessing at. “He knew he was different. Could’ve been an ARC. Hells, could’ve worked his way up to becoming a bloody captain if he put his mind to it. But his mind wasn’t ever in the war.

“That’s what got him killed.”

Ah. There it is. Riggs grips his shot glass tighter. Can’t bring himself to finish what’s left in it - enough for him to taste it. But his stomach is roiling.

Riggs doubts he’ll be sleeping tonight. He almost snorts at the thought.

What else is new?

“Somehow, against all odds, they made it through training. Made it all the way to Geonosis. Saw their first Jedi - the ones the daydreamer talked about so often. ‘Do you think they can see things? Really see them. What do you think it’s like? Deja vu, maybe? But in reverse?’

“The chatter didn’t let up. The whole time, the younger was just yammering away. He was excited - couldn’t deny he was. Even if he wanted more, he knew how to be a soldier. Knew how to take down a clanker like no one else I’ve ever seen.”

It’s difficult for Riggs not to suck in a sharp breath at that. He knows - knew a few sentences in this was Sarge’s story. But hearing it is like being dunked in ice water.

Might be comparable to facing the fury of an explosive from two meters away.

“Lost sight of him.” Sarge shakes his head, the same muscle jumps in his jaw. Riggs isn’t the most intelligent man he knows, but what he lacks in book smarts he makes up for in emotional intelligence. He knows fury when he feels it. It radiates off of Sarge. “Last thing he said was - fuck, starting to forget even that.” His commanding officer glances at the ceiling, a bitter smile and a short, soft laugh escaping him. “Too much has happened. Too much happened then. He was going after one of our batchers - saw him get dragged off by a couple of bugs.

“‘We’re getting out of this, Tock.’ Always called me that. Even though I was older, even though by rights I should have been Tick. But he was stubborn. As stubborn as any I’ve ever met - even to the end. I went after him when I could, when Commander Hornet gave the order to rally our squadrons to give the jedi some covering fire.

“When I found them, JB was still alive. But only just. Tick was in worse shape. Torn to shreds by one of the bugs’ fuckin’ dogs. Armor didn’t do shit to protect my brother, but the charge he shoved in the massiff’s throat took it out. Took out the bugs, too, when it ran back. Tick had the nerve to laugh - fuckin’ laugh - when I told him to hold on.

“‘Nothing to hold on with,’ he said, lifted a stump. Took his hand off when he dropped the charge. His other arm - he couldn’t even feel it when I grabbed his hand. I couldn’t even see his face. Didn’t have time - but I took off my bucket. Just to yell at him.

“Called him every word in every language - all two of them -that I knew. Cursed the Republic, the bugs, hell, cursed the jedi and the stars along with them. Started begging. But he was done for. We both knew he was.

“‘I’ve never seen you cry before, 1307.’ I’ll never know why he called me that in the end. Maybe he thought he was dreaming of a different life - one where we’d switched places. Maybe it was because he was pissed. Pissed I’d always told him not to call me that, because he could see it for what it was but I was in denial until the end.

“Never going to forgive myself for that.” Sarge swallows the last of the whiskey. “I think he did it because he thought I was still mad about it. Still mad that he was trying to make us both feel more like we were human. And I was. Because if I let myself feel human, I’d have to face it. Face the fact that he was my brother, my best friend, and that he’d been trying to offer water for the seeds to flourish the whole damn time. It wasn’t ever for him - it was for me. Because he saw it. Saw that I was hurting. That I was suffering.

“‘Live, brother.’ It wasn’t a request - it was an order. ‘Live for me.’ Tried to tell him we’d both live, but we knew that was a lie.

“That’s when ol’ Cap found us. Got a medical evac for us. But not for him. Took one look at him and said he was sorry. I think he actually meant it, y’know? Like he could see it. But I refused. Until they started pulling me away. I heard one of them say my designation, and Riggs - I still can’t believe I did this. I punched him. Punched him so hard that, even with his bucket on, I knocked him flat on his ass. Almost got my promotion taken away.

“‘Tock,’ I said, when they started asking what the hell was wrong with me. ‘My name is Tock. Use it, or next time I’ll go for your codpiece.’”

“Did you?” Sarge barks out a laugh, gives Riggs an incredulous, amused look.

“Feck no.” He rolls his eyes. “Had to use a sedative on me - didn’t realize I got clipped in the side.” When he shifts Riggs knows he’s reliving feeling that old wound when it was fresh, almost a year ago now. “I can’t know for sure, but Tick - I think he heard me. Time of death was about thirty seconds after they’d dragged me off - s’when his vitals stopped showing up in the records.

“Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I wonder if that’s how he felt. Like sleep was just there, right there - but it was still evading him. I wondered if he could hear his own heartbeat as it slowed down. If he heard the fury I felt. Or maybe he didn’t hear anything at all. Maybe he muted his helmet, or started playing that stupid fuckin’ jazz bullshit he always loved.”

The silence that falls between them isn’t particularly suffocating. Not yet at least. It’s the kind of reverent silence that so many of them have grown numb to. And at the same time, the one that each of them feels in the deepest parts of themselves. Down to the marrow of their bones, maybe deeper, something that not one of them can fathom.

So far as Riggs knows, at any rate.

Parts of the squadron’s sergeant makes sense now. But only some of them. Riggs doesn’t know why he eats his ration bars the way he does, for example. (It’s weird.) Doesn’t know why he got the tattoos on his chin, what they mean to him. There’s only one question now that burns at him, eats away at a piece of him that, when he asks the question he knows will never recover.

Sarge sees this, of course.

“Go on. Out with it.”

“Sorry, sir. I just - why me?”

There’s another pause, this one thicker, as Sarge lifts his eyebrows incredulously. Like it’s obvious. But it isn’t, not to Riggs, who shrugs a little helplessly. With a sigh, Sarge looks away,

“Because you talk back like he did. And if anyone would get the squadron to drop the bloody ‘Sarge’ bullshit, it’d be you.”

“That can’t be it.” 

Riggs knows that’s not it. Sets his chin, facing Sarge - Tock, he corrects himself for the first time - directly. The scarred eyebrow lifts in what he now recognizes as an unimpressed look, but Riggs ignores it, and the tiny voice that’s getting quieter every day that tells him to shut up. 

“How d’you figure, corporal?”

“I just do.” Something uncomfortable coils and undulates in his guts, and his arms cross over his ribs. Compressing against himself to try and still the discomfort. “So - out with it.”

After barking out a laugh, the words leave in a quiet mumble,

“When we make it out of this war, I’m taking as many of you with me as I can. And I need a vod that I can trust to keep me from giving the orders that’ll put me in an early grave.”

Tock stands up, doesn’t look at him or utter a single word as he does.

And then he leaves.

Riggs helps himself to the second bottle they didn’t get to. He tries not to think about how Quickshot will probably kill him when he shows up in the medcenter tomorrow while he chugs the whole thing.

-----

Welcome to the soldier side, Where there’s no one left but me -SoaD: Intro

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