#somewhat angsty

[unabashedfandreamland]

TMA Headcannon that might not make sense

But I love it anyways. I imagine Evan Lukas, had he lived, would have been a cycle breaker. He would have rejected the way that his family raised him and raised his children with all the love and attention he was denied as a child and he would not have sent them away. He would have been a loving husband to Naomi, someone who always remembered their anniversary, still went on dates with her, and sometimes brought home flowers just because. He would have still had been a servant of the Lonely to a degree, but he wouldn't have obsessed over it like the rest of his family did. I also imagine that there are members of the Lukas family who, after they get kicked out, quit serving the Lonely all together. Who basically see all the damage that it did to their childhoods and go "nope, I'm done with this."

[sneverussape]

tfw when you’ve suddenly been given more responsibility than you think you can handle but have no choice but to do it anyway.

(au in which snape finds himself to be draco’s legal guardian after a botched raid at the manor ends with lucius and narcissa getting killed, and draco is in danger of being a ward of the state. snape picks him up from wiltshire by car after being contacted by muggle social services, and on the drive back, snape starts questioning if the world has a personal vendetta against him)

[ishipviktorandhappiness]

The thing about Five was that he thought he was so smart, Vanya fumed, slamming her door shut.

She bit back a scream and flung her violin onto her bed. He just left, she thought. He just left! he didn't even look at her. He got pissed and stormed out, probably thinking he was going to prove the old man wrong.

"Five, I swear," she hissed as she paced around her tiny bedroom - it once acted as a storeroom that was used to keep their training equipment until she moved in after her fourth birthday. She glared at Five's note that she had pinned on her closet door. "I'm gonna get us out one day my ass," Vanya yelled, uncaring if Klaus could hear her from his room next door. Idly, she wondered if this tantrum of hers would lead to more pills that she had to swallow to "manage her emotions".

She swiveled around her room, looking for something she could throw. She spotted the glass figurine of a violin player seated on the windowsill and her hand reached out to hurl it at her door. The sound of the glass shattering made her feel undoubtedly satisfied as she panted in anger.

It was when the glass fell to the floor and scattered across her bedroom floor that she realised what she had done.

She didn't know how long she had been staring at the broken figurine when Ben came in.

"Vanya, Father is asking you to -" He stopped, eyes wide. "Is that?"

Vanya ignored him, her fingers shaking as she tried to pick up the pieces.

Ben rushed to sit next to her, his fingers warm as he gently pushed her hands away. "Let me help you," he murmured comfortingly as he scooped up the pieces. "We can put it back together later."

Vanya shook her head. "No, no," she whimpered. "I ruined it. Five gave it to me and I ruined it because I was angry and stupid and -"

Ben shushed her, his brown eyes gentle. "We can fix it," he said again. "Or maybe we should just throw this in Five's bedroom so that he knows he really pissed you off this time."

Unbidden, a small smile stretched across Vanya's face and Ben almost sighed in relief at the hope in her eyes. He stood up with the pieces in his arms and dumped them onto her table.

"Come on, dinner's ready and Mom isn't letting the rest of us eat until you're there," he said, tugging Vanya to her feet.

The girl nodded absently.

They were walking towards to the dining table when she asked, timidly, "Do you - Do you think he's gonna come back?"

Ben glanced at her in pity and Vanya felt that familiar surge of anger flare up again before she reminded herself that Ben is her brother, her friend.

Ben looked away when he answered. "I don't think Five would be Five if he would leave you so easily."

She didn't believe him but she nodded anyway.

When Five didn't come home the next day, or the next week, Ben would whisper to her, "He wouldn't leave you, don't worry."

Three months after Five's disappearance, Ben stopped whsipering and Vanya stopped thinking about the broken figurine and the boy she thought would never leave her.

But she left the lights open and she kept leaving his favourite sandwiches on the porch. Five always said she was too naive.

[archtroop]

You know how Kripke hates the “introduction speech” between the brothers in the beginning of the Pilot? While they are going down the stairs? 

No more Krip, I figured out an excuse for you: While at Stanford, Sam took some therapy sessions, and it was only recently, like, a day or two before the Pilot that he literally acknowledged (at last) the consequences of his grim childhood, and the abnormality of his adolescence. These were just starting to sink in. 

And that’s why he felt the urge to voice it all out loud, in front of a person who has been there with him, but now - playing the "outsider” card, the “recovered one looking back at the past, trying to ‘enlighten’ his sibling”, with the hope that maybe, just maybe, Dean will agree and contemplate the idea of joining the bright side. That is, because Sam was never really sure about this bright side, since it lacked the presence of his brother.

[consultingwriters]

I love this blog and I follow it almost religiously. I have a prompt idea where the name James Bond was as much a job as Q. Where the name, along with the number, was passed on and Q has to deal with all of his 007s dying or leaving when each one holds a special place in his heart. - anon

-

My soul hurts. Jen.

-

Q would always love his first James Bond in a way that the others could not quite live up to. That Bond - blond, devastating blue eyes, chiselled muscles, scars that peppered his body from worlds before, during and since Q knew him - died three years after they met.

For the rest of his life, Q would measure James Bonds against his first incarnation.

(Really, none of them ever came close, but Q was kind enough to never tell them that)

They would be remembered and loved and adored in utterly different ways, each of them. “James Bond” was a legacy as much as anything else; a dark-haired incarnation had a certain slant of a smile when he said the name, and Q had to agree that he was the right replacement.

Each one only lasted a handful of years. Q himself was in MI6 for fifty-three years before deciding he should probably meander into retirement, and in that time, he saw countless 007s, “James Bond”, again and again and again.

There was one who Q actively hated, for nearly three and a half years; he had been too arrogant, even for the James Bond legacy. He had slept around and caused havoc and never listened to a damn word anybody said and returned every single piece of equipment for the entire time he was active and Q hated him for it, because James Bond never returned equipment, never, James Bond was supposed to be self-obsessed and thoughtless and inconsiderate and desperately, lethally charming.

There was the longest lasting one, who survived seven years altogether. He was oddly gentle, quieter. He and Q were friends, went out for coffee (and the occasional martini, stirred, which never failed to create an ache in his soul) and Q was devastated when he died.

One had only lasted a fortnight. Very, very unfortunate. But then, bombs don’t listen to their victims, generally speaking.

Right up to the very last one, who had a slight lisp and devastating smile; Q had left MI6 with that 007 in place, one who had got beautifully deliriously wonderfully drunk with and wished well, was very genuine in saying that the newest James Bond was the best suited since Q’s first.

They kept in touch after Q retired.

And to the very last moment Q spent in the MI6 building, he never quite lost the wish - the hope - that he would wake up one morning to find blond hair, blue eyes, the right smile.

[galaxynerd420]

Cc Highschool Au Fact #1

Both David and Daniel both have a sister, but only one sister is around anymore.

[inaflorian-blog]

Vacancy

There is a man in the mirror. Not just him, but another one, right behind him, with his hand on Levi’s shoulder. The pressure is light, just the weight of the man’s arm and it feels almost like a pull. A pull towards something warm and safe, like falling back on the bed after a long day. But Levi can’t fall. He can’t give into the pull, he has to stay focused.

When he sinks his face in the basin of cold water from the well he can no longer feel the pull. He can no longer feel the hand, the warmth and safety. Instead the cold grounds him to this day, to the next one and the one after that. Because he has to keep going, he has to see this through. He has to remember this life, not that of the past.

The edge of the past is not in yesterday. It began years ago, on that roof, with that choice and the further he makes from that edge, the clearer the distance becomes. He remembers living for someone, not only for something, not only to eat another meal, to see another sunset or to slay another titan. He remembers when there was a purpose for him other than survival, other than washing and sleeping and eating. There was a place for him, somewhere warm, near something strong and big and sacred he didn’t know the name of and now… He looks in the mirror. He sees his reflection. And there is a hand on his shoulder again, and there is that warmth and that strength and it calls to him.

When he reaches for the hand he grasps at air and for a second he feels a tightening in his chest, the twist of pain that has grown into his flesh. It’s a reminder of the permanent vacancy there. Of touches that are now gone, of memories only his skin remembers. Sometimes it hurts enough to make him writhe, wrap his arms around himself to mimic some of them. But it’s never the same, because he cannot give himself the same warmth, he can’t feel that strength or that safety in his own desperation. And it has to be enough. Because there is another day to come.

[lucinesnow]

teary-eyed dove

She was at peace. The delicate harmony surrounded her, she breathed it, her worries were long gone and her eyes were wide open, looking at the bright sky at the azure sky which mirrored her blue eyes.

Her limbs were resting on flower petals. She could hear the wind howling quietly in the branches of the pines, but it didn’t bother her – she felt complete and whole while lying there without a thought of tomorrow. She knew she wanted to stay there, but something didn’t feel right.

The flowers around her were bright, deep red, and they were roses. Somehow, they looked a little too intensely red, and smelled like iron.

How peculiar, she thought. She was all alone, in eternity, yet alive - in a dream.

Then, the field grabbed her feet as she stood, and those roots tangled up her legs. She couldn’t help it; she opened her mouth wide but no sound would leave her lips. And there, to think, even though she was sinking, or even though she would die if she sank any further into the unknown, her mind was at immeasurable, unconditional peace. As if the roses were taking her all the way to heaven. If that innocence was how it felt to be dying, she craved I now. More than anything. She had to leave, immediately, yet her feet were chained to the ground and would not let her go. A salty tear spilled from her eyes and she tasted the bittersweet despair of betrayal. She knew where she was, and she could never leave. Not until she forgot him.

A pale, soft hand reached out to her as if it was an angel taking her to heaven, and those icy blue eyes pierced her identical irises. She couldn’t let go, neither could she hold on to that pale hand. No matter how soft his touch was, she knew the roses always had thorns, and in this case the thorns would stake her before she could admire the beauty of the flowers. It sent shivers down all of her limbs, she knew it was not good for her, not at all.

The more he pulled her towards his embrace, the more she wanted to fall down to the rose garden. No matter how delicate his touch was, she didn’t want to be deceived again. Something inside her – something so delicate and untouched – awakened as his hazy breath touched her ears. Love, unconditional love. Something she had always had for him, something she would never forget no matter how she tried, and he would take it with a smile – only to disappear without a trace.

He would touch her deepest core; she would see the human, the beautiful human being he was and had always been, only to end up being ripped apart by the beast. And he, he would still admire the beauty beside her, the broken, delicate beauty he would always hold dear.

With a smile, he kissed her fingers, one by one. Her eyes closed with a soft smile on her lips, she enjoyed the brief moment of his rare affection, his angelic touch, and icy lips of the one she would never forget.

Her eyes opened again to see the flowers turning red as she touched those, and for a moment, she felt bliss in his arms, those ruthless arms of a monster which she found beautifully scattered anyways – to her, he was the thorn and the rose, the beauty and the beast, even if the darkness would always end up getting the best of him. He scattered the flowers around her, with a kiss he buried her inside the lilies.

And those flowers were covered in her blood, and always had been.