but if cas, in his first appearance, told dean that good things do happen. and if he told dean not to be too hard on himself for being unable to prevent what happened to his mother. and if he took sam’s hand into both of his own when they first met and told sam that he was honored to meet him too and that he was glad sam had ceased his extracurricular activities, because if sam hadn’t, then he’d be forced to kill him by heaven, which, given his comment, is obvs something he didn’t want to do. and if cas told uriel that he shouldn’t refer to humans as mud monkeys and told him that he was close to blasphemy. and if cas told dean that he was praying that he’d save the town and that humans are “works of art.” and if cas told dean that he’d give anything not to have him torture again. and if even when cas was helping to start the apocalypse (because he’d been been tortured back into obedience by heaven after trying to prevent it), his motivation was at least it’ll bring about paradise for everyone…
in what fucking universe was cas not compassionate in s4. in what fucking universe did he not care about people.
out. can we talk about the fact that diana doesn’t actually really like the name wonder woman ? myndi mayers made her a household name, made her popular as all hell, but even though diana considered her as a friend, they clashed when it came to the ways she wanted to further diana’s popularity as ww and earn some coin lmao sh. all diana wanted to do was help promote peace and justice while working in the name of the amazon ideals, and though the name of ww let her do that in a greater capacity than she could’ve before, she doesn’t really see it as her identity so much as it is just some title humans have given her, both to idolise and commodify her existence. it doesn’t sit too well in her stomach, what with some of it verging too close to blasphemy ( she always says that religious affiliation is private and personal, but it is a fact that she’s sworn to aphrodite’s service ). but what can she do ? to make meaningful change in patriarch’s world, she has to compromise. become that kind of public figure.
The child was looking ever more intently at the small drawing that was taking form on the discarded piece of paper, and Grantaire smiled without even lifting his eyes from his work.
- What do you see that pleases you, little one? It’s nothing more than a scribble.
- They look so happy.
Small fingers brushed over the figures, intently and yet without malice, and the child spoke up again.
- Who are they?
- It depends. Sometimes they all look alike. That is what comes of being utterly consumed by them. But for now…
Another smile and the pen continued to scratch a golden likeness; ,the child wouldn’t understand, but it wouldn’t matter anyway.
- For now, they are Alexander and Hephaestion at the desert shrine of Siwah, awaiting the word that will send them both on the journey of their lives, a journey that would change the face of the world and see them remembered as heroes.
- Heroes? What did they do?
- Ah, the epic failings of this generation. Should I tell you their story?
The child didn’t say anything and simply sat on Grantaire’s lap, eyes shining. For all his faults, everyone agreed that the drunk in the corner span the most wondrous stories.
- Yes, tell me! I want to know everything!
- There I shall lack, for we cannot know everything. Who knows what glimmered inside Alexander’s mind in the small hours of the morning? But this is known : they were inseparable, on battlefield and in friendship. No bond was stronger than theirs, and such love… Ah, gamin, how can I speak of their love? No two hearts could ever have grown so close, it is nearly blasphemy to imagine otherwise.
His pen scratched faster, the shading becoming erratic, a slight nod to what was going on inside his own mind.
- They were beings of beauty, these young gods. Shining and perfect in their youth and glory. And Alexander, beautiful, dangerous Alexander, he wanted to reach out and touch the edges of the world. He wanted to change the way everything stood, he wanted glory and freedom and everything that went with it. And even when everything seemed impossible, he made it so simple that the men followed him wherever he went, hanging on every word, believing that as long as the son of Zeus went, victory would follow.
- Were they wrong?
The simple question drew a bitter sigh. Of course they had been wrong, young shining gods who saw nothing but their faraway dreams of freedom. They was been all so wrong…
- Alexander was wrong. But they followed, his words glowing in their breasts and dancing on their tongues. And where Alexander was, so was his shadow. Where Alexander led, Hephaestion followed. Their souls so entwined, one could not exist without the other. Like the sun and the moon, the sky and stars.
- You really like their story, don’t you?
- No, I find it heart-breaking. So many people should not put their faith in a single man and follow when they must surely know that not one will be happy. None of those heroes were. Cleitus was killed at the hands of his king. Perdiccas executed as a traitor. And Hephaestion… He alone stood with Alexander to the end, but his own end came by treachery and deceit, poison or simple bad luck.
Grantaire poured another goblet of wine and sighed.
- Alexander mourned him for days. He spent days without eating, drinking or sleeping, as the story goes. But did that bring back his love? No. And three months later, Alexander himself died, and nothing in the world changed for it. So tell me, if even gods can die and be forgotten, then what chance do us mere mortals have?
But the child had disappeared, and soon a shadow fell across the small table ; Grantaire closed his eyes and raised his glass in mocking salute.
- I speak of gods, and here is Apollo himself come to chastise me for my hubris. - I chastise nothing if not your unreasonable habit. For once, can you not refrain from the bottle?
- No, I cannot. For when I gaze upon those young gods you have surrounded yourself with, who look upon your countenance and your holy divinity, I fear for them all. You will kill us all, Enjolras. Like Alexander, your desire for freedom and choice and liberty will take us all. And I, like the poorest of substitutes for a rejected Hephaestion, I cannot tear myself away from you. So let the wine flow and with it my worries. At least it numbs the pain. What else could be so intoxicating?
The only answer Enjolras could find was a hesitant hand against his friend’s shoulder before walking slowly away. He knew Grantaire would be looking at him leave, and yet meeting those beautiful green eyes was too much to bear this time.
Fandom/Pairing: The Losers - Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez/Jake Jensen
Words: ~ 5 900
Rating/Warnings: T / Canon-Typical Violence
Notes: As much as I love the whole idea that Jensen and Cougar have a connection at first sight I think that depending on the circumstances Cougar wouldn’t appreciate it. Because, let’s face it, in a real combat situation Jensen would seem like cannon fodder at best and a liability to the team’s safety at worst. But I also think that Jensen is badass and deserves to be recognised as such. So today I took a couple of hours to write a little something about that. It flowed surprisingly easy and I’m really quite pleased with how it turned out. Enjoy. Betaed by Wayofthewarrior and z-delenda-est and can now be found on AO3 too!
Cougar'sfirst impression of one Jacob Jensen was decidedly unflattering. Maybe it was
because their last three tech guys had all been inexperienced, skittish disasters
in the field, or maybe it was the bright smile and incessant talking. Either
way, Jacob Jensen made Cougar want to cringe in distaste. The techie’s
cheerfulness had to be a pathetic front to cover up whatever insecurities he was
hiding — poorly executed at that — because no one could possibly be that cheerful without pulling something.
endured it, if only because he was the one who had filed a request for a new
communications expert, and couldn’t very well send Sergeant Jensen back with an
attached sticky note explaining that the one he had gotten was clearly
defective. Roque might think so, but Clay insisted that that was not proper
procedure when it came to these things. He also forbade Roque from finding alternative
solutions — especially of the morbidly creative kind — to curb their temporary
techie’s enthusiasm. His expertise, however relative it seemed to be at this
point, was needed for the mission. And cutting off fingers was highly
ignored Roque’s offer to take Jensen’s tongue instead of his fingers.
Bella’s brows drew together as she wheeled around to where the voices had come from. Butch and Vishous both stood in front of the library door, their legs encased in leathers were braced apart, their muscles bulging against the black shirts they wore as they stood with their arms crossed. The only difference between them was V was wearing a Red Sox hat.
Bella put her hands on her slender hips and glared at the brothers. She was casually dressed in a dark green cotton short sleeved blouse along with blue jeans and bare feet.
“Excuse me. Last time I checked you were not Nalla’s parents.” Bella said as she pointed at the two hard ass vampires.
“She’s our niece, enough said.” Butch said with a note of finality.