➤ DEFAW - day six - favorite heartbreaking moment - 5x22 - home “You are, by far, the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my 173 years on this earth. I get to die knowing I was loved—not just by anyone—by you, Elena Gilbert. It’s the epitome of a fulfilled life. It’s never gonna get any better than this. I peaked.”
No one could ever be able to convince Alexander that there was anything that burned more brilliantly than a forest fire.
The trees bursting into red-hot flames as pine needles danced in embers and ash. Each kiss of the wind a silent promise of the charred final product, which would leave green hills a mess of browns and dead darkness. Smoke would cloud the lungs of anyone who dared travel through, and it would seem as though oxygen had been pulled away from the world in those few moments of suffocating bliss in between life and death.
Words would swirl through the clouded air and twirl down onto their desired destination, having departed from Alexander’s mind. Thoughts would form in swaths of heavy smoke, dark and daunting as they rose from scattered ashes of shattered pieces of his mind. Shards of glass would cut the insides of his eyes until tears spilled out instead of blood, far too often to be considered alright.
Each time he cried his smoky tears, eyes fogging up with thick darkness, Lafayette stood still, as if he didn’t notice. It took a long time for Alexander to realize that Lafayette truly hadn’t noticed it. Standing still, watching on passively, as Alexander allowed his own words to choke the life out of himself. When the forests allowed wind to blow through, carrying embers that would lead to demise, Alexander couldn’t bring himself to put out the flames.
Their love had grown up through the ground, roots set steady as their soft whispers and promises reached toward the sky above them. John would pull both of them close and press warm kisses to their faces as gently as possible. He would lay in between Lafayette and Alexander and make quiet jokes about the world around them, always trying to avoid the cutting, judgemental remarks of others.
It was never cold in their home. Not during long summer nights spent watching bad movies and trading kisses. Nor while the wind howled with icy power outside their apartment, blizzards twisting the world into a powdered sugar-covered mockery of the city that flowed with a million lights. None of those lights were stars, though.
Alexander would whisper some nights, of the constellations he’d seen back home on Nevis. Orion, Ursa Major, or whatever shapes he’d made up and given names to. Small fragments of stories would form in his mind and float out into their cloudy night sky that they shared, and would piece together into brightly lit clouds.
And when John had first began contributing to the stories, he’d thought nothing of it. After all, it had been two years since they’d gotten together, and it would only be natural for John to develop an interest in the stories that Alexander told them during sleepless nights. He’d found it charming, told himself to get over the slight pull of jealousy growing in his mind like ivy that twisted and contorted it’s vines until it stretched along the cobblestone walls of a castle. They had already set down roots together in the world that barely welcomed them, and it would be of no use to cultivate an altogether different kind when what they had already was perfectly fine.
Soon enough, it stopped being perfectly fine.
John found his way to the center of the bed each night, encased in Lafayette’s arms and seemingly unaffected by Alexander’s warm embrace. Lafayette would kiss Alexander on the cheek when he returned from a business trip, instead of the kiss to the lips that John always received. Days would pass between the times Lafayette held Alexander in his arms, soft and strong and oh so incredibly safe. Nights like would pass where the bedroom door was closed before Alexander could make it to bed with his lovers.
The sun would set, and the sun would rise, and no matter how gorgeously the colors of the sky were painted across the atmosphere, it was all simply shades of grey, to Alexander.
John had always been the fiery passion in their relationship, after all. Burning and reforming so quickly that one could never truly understand its form. Each shade of scarlet blended into orange and gold, scattering the sky with stars. Embers of the flame would flow upwards until each sparkle seemed to be a supernova, far off into the universe.
Lafayette, tall and strong, had branched off into any new thing he could find, twisting his lovers along with him. But Alexander had fallen from the skies in shades of crimson and burnt umber, trying and failing to hold on to the last glimmers of life that had been so abundant in the beginning.
When the flames had ended, the dust was settled, and the smoke was cleared, Alexander wished he was still able to cry. They had sat him down, spoken with calm, quiet words, ones they had obviously rehearsed many times before.
What did I do wrong? Alexander wanted to ask, the words easily forming on his lips but not finding their way into his voice.
What did you do wrong? Lafayette and John felt the need to inquire, yet did not have the nerve or will to ask.
Unspoken words hung heavy as the tension between them, so accustomed to being ignored that once it was confronted, none of them were sure how to handle it.
But Alexander figured that it only made sense, that Lafayette and John didn’t want him- didn’t need him.
They were a forest fire, burning bright and shining with untold brilliance. Flames licked at their heels as they tried to run from their problems, until they were encased in fire.
For a long time, Alexander had thought he was the smoke, choking out the bits of life that were still left in John’s sparks and Lafayette’s branched off thoughts.
Now he knew better.
Now, he knew that he wasn’t the smoke that clouded and suffocated everything that had tried to love. He was the oxygen, that was used up by the growing forest fire until he was stretched too thin, and he had nothing more for them to take.
Request - “Can you write a Montgomery dlC imagine with the phrase "i need time to think about us?” Also, I love that your ask is Jeff Askins😂👌"
If, as tales and myths prophesize, soulmates are as real as the earth is round, then Montgomery de la Cruz and Y/N L/N were living in stark reality. Or, so was thought.
They’d met at school years back, and theirs was a love story one might read in a fairytale, a classic romance. It was rare they’d be seen without the other, never spoke ill of each-other, and knew their partner inside out. Even better than themselves, some might say.
Today Montgomery had knocked on Y/N’s door at 20:42 on this hot summer night. The sun was setting.
“Look,” he’d been acting strange ever since he’d knocked on her door, he hadn’t even taken up her offer to enter the house which was an immediate red flag.
“Monty you’re scaring me.” Her arms wrapped around her stomach, less as a sign of coldness and more one of insecurity. Although she was really trying to avoid noticing the redness and watery eyes Monty was sporting, she couldn’t help the fact that she already had. Her first thought was to run and hug him- make sure he was okay, but something was stopping her.
“I-” he stuttered and looked at the floor.
Then his entire demeanour shifted, like the switches had all been changed, and they were locked.
“Y/N, something’s changed.”
“You’re damn right it has.” Her stern tone was to hide the fact she felt she might throw up. They were supposed to know each-other better than themselves, but Y/N had no idea who he was right now, he was vague and unclear- she knew something was up but couldn’t put her finger on it, an unusual occurrence for the two.
“You and me, have you ever noticed how different we are?” He chuckled softly, and each chime had a sharp edge which dug deeper into her heart. He slid his hands in his pockets casually, as though the stop was just that. A stop on his way to somewhere better.
“Yes, but that’s what makes us so good…” she moved forward and closed the door behind her, since the cold had started to permeate the house.
“Don’t you think it’s always been… inconvenient?”
“No… because, when you love someone things like that don’t matter. Nothing matters.” She moved toward him and placed a hand on his chest, “I love you, so if you’re feeling insecure about us-”
He stepped back abruptly. “Tess’ back. Seeing her made me realise a few things.”
Everything stopped for a moment. All she could hear was white noise and all she could see was the fuzz of a television screen with no signal. She was spinning. She had no clue where she was looking or of anything else around her, she only knew the thought permeating her head incessantly.
“You still love her.”
He paused. She could make out his face now, and the overriding emotion was pity. He wasn’t trying to walk on eggshells, he felt bad for her, but he wasn’t going to make this any easier. She’d hit the nail on the head.
“I need time to think about us.”
The trouble was that the nail wasn’t stopping, it was still being hammered violently and roughly.
“Do you really? Or is that just deferring the official break-up you’d already planned for?” She snapped. The words were immediate. Noticeably his face was still red and patchy, his stern expression contrasting along with his strong stance, yet she noticed a falter, a flicker of hurt or regret. Or maybe that was just her hoping.
“Y/N, you know that’s not-”
“Do I?” She whispered.
“I feel like I have no idea who you are right now.”
After a few moments with no answer, she continued; “why?”
She shut her eyes, seeing his expression might just kill her.
“Quite honestly, you were never what I wanted. I’m sorry I led you to believe that.” A dagger. A kitchen blade. A stapler. A sword. Scissors. Pins. Needles. The sound of a 12 gauge locking and loading, pointed right a her heart. Anything and everything sharp was pressing into her chest.
“Silly me…” her voice was barely audible, and the dizzying effect of his words caused her to sway slightly.
And it felt like the kaleidoscope of butterflies that disrupted her stomach whenever she saw him, died. She could hear their gut wrenching screams, and it felt as though they were being torn to pieces, along with her heart.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” He almost pleaded.
“Hurt me? You’re fucking ripping me to pieces, and standing there like it means dog shit to you!” She shouted back, eyes still shut, trying to stop the tears from falling.
“It was fun while it lasted, right?” He smiled boyishly, causing her blood to boil, her brokenness now mixed with fury.
You may have shattered my heart for ever.
“So this was all an act, Monty? Only I wasn’t aware that we were playing to an audience. I’m sorry that I wanted something real instead of a dream. A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” She chuckled bitterly.
“Don’t spout that nonsense, I’m trying to spare your feelings here.” He snapped.
“You don’t care. You never cared.”
She picked up the pieces of her self that had been carelessly splattered onto her doorstep, and entered her home, locking the door behind her with a newfound emptiness.
The low rumble of the car’s engine lulled Alexander into a slow train of thought, the passing buildings and scenery fading into his mind. He was going to see Lafayette later, and as he fidgeted with his engagement ring, he knew that today was going to mark an enormous change in his life. The stiff suit and tie Hercules had forced him to wear was much more somber than he would have liked, but it didn’t concern him much, what with the main event of today overtaking the parts of his brain that hadn’t been tucked away as to focus on today.
As they passed a park, a particular memory fell into his head. That was the park where Lafayette had taken him on their first date. Alexander had spilled his coffee on the frenchman, and asked what he could do to make it up. Lafayette had jokingly suggested a date, and Alexander had jokingly agreed.
The summer air had been fresh that afternoon, soft winds blowing through their hair as they laughed at each other’s fake over-romanticized flirting. They had joked and Lafayette had teasingly held out his arm with a pen, joking that the only way to get a cute man’s phone number was to have it written on his arm. Alexander had taken the pen despite Lafayette’s giggles and scrawled down his phone number in the glittery ink.
‘Why do you even have a glitter pen?’ He’d asked teasingly, handing it back to Lafayette once he’d written his phone number down on the other man’s dark skin. Lafayette had simply laughed and told him that a good magician must keep some secrets to himself and blown Alexander a kiss before running off.
“You okay, Alex? You seem a little nervous.” John asked, interrupting Alexander’s thoughts with his uneven voice.
“Aren’t I allowed to be nervous?” He’d replied, smiling weakly at John. He was glad that John had offered to drive him to their destination- he didn’t think that he would be able to drive there alone, with all that was on his mind.
“I know, I just don’t want you to do anything stupid, Alex.” John told him, eyes focused on the road.
“I always do stupid shit. That’s why we’re friends, John. And…I won’t do anything stupid. I really don’t want to mess anything up today of all days. You know that, right?”
“I know, Alex.” John replied quietly, dropping the conversation as quickly as possible. He needed to focus on traffic, which was getting pretty bad- and Alexander didn’t want to be late for this. It was essentially the one day he could not, under any circumstances, be late to, or even miss.
Bright sunlight flooded through the car windows, shining into his eyes as they passed another familiar building- it was the shitty apartment complex Lafayette and Alexander had first lived together in. The landlord had been a dick, and the heating was old, but they’d both been recently starting their careers, and it didn’t matter where they lived at the time, so long as they were together. He supposed that was what gave him the best memories of the place.
Cold winter afternoons spent together watching reruns of 90s sitcoms, warm spring mornings spent in bed together, trying to memorize each curve of each other’s bodies before they had to get dressed. He idly wondered if the shag carpeting was still softer in the spots beneath the windows, which had also been the warmest place in the apartment. If the people living there cleared out the living room to dance together, just like he and Lafayette had.
Perhaps it was for the best if he didn’t know that. Opening the window slightly, he felt the breeze flutter through his hair, soft and feather-light. He closed his eyes briefly, only opening them again when the car stopped at a traffic light. His breathing stopped for a moment as he realized where they were.
The ocean was next to them, trapped below nearly twenty feet of a concrete wall. It was the place Lafayette had proposed to him. Alexander had been staring out at the water, only turning to see Lafayette down on one knee when he felt the silence overtake them. There had been crying, and kissing, and muffled “Yes”s as Lafayette slipped the ring onto his finger and they embraced, the evening sky’s stars not nearly as bright as Lafayette’s eyes.
An ocean became a blur as John passed the sight, not able to look Alexander in the eyes even for a passing moment. This would be a hard day for him, but he would get through it-he had to. He had to be able to watch as it happened, and he had to be able to live with it for the rest of his life. He only hoped that he wouldn’t break down halfway through the ceremony.
The car abruptly stopped, pulling up to the parking lot beside the church. Not many cars were there, as they had decided to make this all a rather small event, despite how large it would impact the lives of those who attended. Stepping out of the car, Alexander twisted the engagement ring on his finger, a nervous habit he’d acquired in the time he and Lafayette had spent as each other’s fiancees.
He smiled slightly at the sight of George Washington, who had been hurrying into the church accompanied by his wife, Martha. John turned to him and placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.
“You ready for this?” He asked, voice nearly silent, and not making eye contact.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Alexander replied at a similar volume.
Taking in a deep breath, he stepped into the church, and smiled. It wouldn’t do well to cry, even if that was slightly expected of him. Nodding slightly at John, he entered the main area of the chapel, ignoring the stares of everyone in the room.
Hands at his side, he walked down the rows of pews to the front of the church. Lafayette, was there, seemingly waiting for him.
Alexander smiled weakly at him, feeling a single tear fall down his face as he remembered just how much he loved Lafayette. Lafayette looked peaceful, almost, nearly smiling as well.
He let himself cry a little bit more. After all, the man he loved was at the end of the aisle, yes, but he wasn’t standing there waiting.
Lafayette lay in his coffin, silent, with his arms across his chest, protecting the heart that had once loved Alexander.
List of the agnstiest angstiest ships(otps) you know and their shows?pls
A lot of these will be repetitive
1. Kim Shin and Eun Tak, Goblin: The Lonely and Great God
I think by now everyone knows how obsessed with Goblin I am but Eun Tak and Shin’s love story is seriously the angstiest, most heartfelt love story I’ve watched and I will always keep bringing it up as a suggestion for people who are looking for that sweeping, epic, fantastical, profound, gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, beautiful love story.
2. Sunny and Reaper, Goblin: The Lonely and Great God
So like I keep saying, Coffee Prince is about Han Kyul and Eun Chan. Eun Chan is a tomboy and to get a job to provide for her family she pretends to be a boy and starts falling in love with her boss who starts falling in love with her too but he think she’s a boy so he basically goes through an identity crisis which is really intense and it also starts getting his friends and coworkers to think about the stigma surrounding homosexuality. SUPER fucking angsty.
A few YouTube channels have all of their clips and I remember when I didn’t want to continue watching all of Shameless and I just wanted to know what happened with these two and I stayed up all night watching all of their clips and the angst was killing me.
7. Dal Po and In Ha, Pinocchio
Their love story is super complicated but basically her mother actually destroyed his family, driving his own mother to commit suicide but he can’t help but love her so some serious fucking angst ensues. Highly underrated Kdrama.
8. Max and Liz, Roswell
He’s an alien, she’s a human, shit gets complicated.
9. Michael and Maria, Roswell
Their angst is different from Max and Liz’s because Michael and Maria are the can’t-stand-each-other-but-we-have-some-serious-fucking-passion dynamic but their arguing is actually pretty intense and the tension between Michael screwing up and making it up to Maria is pretty angsty.
10. Logan and Max, Dark Angel
So many obstacles get in their way in the span of two seasons.
11. Simon and Alisha, Misfits
Their destiny is actually quite tragic. I’m still not over it.
12. Noah and Rosalee, Underground
They were enslaved and they’re on the run and they’re in love and so there’s most definitely a lot of angst, especially with the way they left things.
13. Jax and Tara, Sons of Anarchy
I’ve been breaking down their angst a lot recently.
standalone; pg-13; fluff + angst; msr; through the years;
A/N: This got a little away from me. They’re not all piggy back rides, sorry! But the sentiment is there. Send me prompts!!!
He laughs at her silently for a full five minutes before he figures he should help her. Besides, he’s depending on a breeze just as much as she is. The basement office A.C. unit is never a priority for the maintenance staff.
Would it be possible, really, for him to tell her to move out of the way so that he could open the window himself? Maybe. Would it be nearly as fun? No way in hell.
She reacts predictably when he sneaks up behind her and grabs her by the waist. She kicks at him even as he’s hoisting her in the air, a squirming, seething, five-two mess, but she dutifully unlocks the basement window and shoves at the panes while she shouts out curses from above him.
He stalls for a moment with her in the air because it’s pissing her off and, honestly, disturbingly, he enjoys the closeness. But he’s very careful to keep his distance when he sets her down, backing away in record time.
He lets her cuss him out and stomp around the office in her best She-Hulk impression, but it’s hard to miss the little curve of her lips and the light in her eyes.
He’s wired on sheer gratitude right now. Nothing else could explain his ability to throw the dead weight of his naked partner over his shoulder and plow steadily over the icy terrain, when just moments ago he was succumbing to a certain frozen death.
He’s just so happy to see her. She’s so small, though his fatigue makes her the heaviest thing he’s ever carried. There is no where for them to go, but he is dead-set on carrying her until they find shelter or they freeze to death where he’s standing, with her curled over his back like a sack of potatoes.
He spots a watch tower in the distance.
If she wants to kill him, let her. The blood on her shirt is seeping through his own and for a second too long he’d been so sure her heart was gone, her heart, that important little piece of muscle that he relies on a hell of a lot more than she does.
She doesn’t fight him, though. She clings to his arms like a straight jacket. In his haze of selfless selfishness he realizes that there are agency issues at play and he wants to give her a choice for once, so he transfers her onto his back and feels too much when her legs wrap around his waist.
Their tentative foray into physical intimacy has meant a lot of things, to his soul and to his dick, but mostly it means she can relax around him now. She has this laugh that used to make an appearance about once a year, his absolute favorite cryptozoological creature, but now he hears it once a day.
And they touch, too, not those desperate little end-of-the-world touches, not even just sexually, but they hold hands during out of office lunch breaks and sleep on each other in planes – on purpose.
Today she’s helping him clean his bedroom because she trips every time she stays the night. The frustrated edge to her voice, the one that used to infuriate him but now just makes him smile, owes to his refusal to throw anything out.
“This magazine is thirteen years old!” She huffs out, jerking it wildly in the air. The movement causes the centerfold to fall out and her eyes do that twitching thing she does when she can’t believe this is her life.
“It’s a collectible,” he shrugs. She lets out a heavily put-upon sigh and throws it in the keeper box. Time for a break, then.
“C’mon, Scully,” he nods his head to the door and moves to get up. “I bought some of that unsweet tea sacrilege and a frozen pizza.”
“Lucky me,” she grumbles, rolling her neck until she hears a satisfying crack and getting up to follow him into the kitchen.
There’s a sudden all-consuming need to hear that laugh just once today, along with the bittersweet realization he’ll probably never get to carry her over any threshold. Her back is to him as she leans against the counter, taking greedy gulps of her disgusting plain leaf water, and she barely even startles when he scoops her up from her knees.
“Mulder,” she warns. Ooh, those are some cold eyes, Scully. He smiles at her dumbly like she’s a fairground prize he’s escorting out of the themepark. “Mulder.”
“Nice to see you, Scully. Come here often?”
She does the twitch thing again. Then her arms thrust out resignedly, and she demands: “Your back.” Mulder doesn’t waist any time, her knees cradled under the backs of his elbows, and oh, yes, there is that laugh again.
Sometimes he carries her like that out of the car and into motel rooms because half-asleep is the only way she’ll let him.
Her fidgeting is distracting only because she never does that. The sight of it is extraterrestrial in nature. The rocking chair she’s abusing is making stumpy little noises against the raw wood and Mulder needs her to stop before she leaves scuff marks.
“Mulder, what if he doesn’t like the mattress we picked out?” She asks in a watery voice. “Maybe it’s too soft.”
“It’s not too soft,” he says patiently.
He should be watching the winding driveway but he keeps his eyes on her, worried that she might topple over. He puts his hand over the one that’s clenching around the armrest and they both look out in front of them.
When a little car finally pulls through the gate, just barely in their eyesight, he wants to start fidgeting, too. But he forces himself to stand up on shaky legs and brings her up with him.
They can’t bring themselves to stand there on the porch when he’s right there, can’t bring themselves to spend one more moment wishing he’d come to them. No, they’d come to him.
But her legs are too wobbly. She almost trips down the steps and he needs an excuse to stop himself from crying anyway, so when her feet hit the ground he’s bending over and pulling her to him. He is sick with relief when she takes the hint and climbs up on his back, and they stay that way the whole walk there, right until they meet that little car in the middle.