the invisible man in the sky

helly-watermelonsmellinfellon  asked:

Hi! You don't have to do this any time soon or anything, but I wanted to ask if you could gather a collection of all the fics written for @beanpots' Day & Night AU? I was reading over mine and contemplating adding more to it, when I realized I hadn't read any of the other fics inspired for it. And now I'm curious to see the other fics. Thanks for all the work you do! <3

This is one of my favourite AUs!! Much love to @beanpots who created the original AU that started it all which you can find here

(The wonderful art was created by @vulpes–vulpes and you can find the original post here! Permission was granted by the artist, please do not repost!)


Day and Night AU


of dusk and dawn and a love beyond by exile_wrath, Gen, 5.5k
The King of Day, Victor, drops flowers to the Ruler of Night, Yuuri, to express his love for him; yet, they are always returned, as Yuuri thinks that they’re dropped by mistake. Victor cries and plucks wishes off the petals every time, remembering the time when once, they had been together. SO GOOD I LOVE THIS

Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctem by Libika, Gen, 3.2k
Yet he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and think about this beautiful man in a glistening gown, with hundreds of stars shining brightly on it. The way his eyes shined – as they were made of thousands of stars themselves – when he was thinking about something. The Sky court was bathed in sunlight, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic. Very sweet!

When the Sun Met the Moon by Birdieee, Not Rated, 5.4k
The rulers of the two kingdoms are as distant as the stars themselves, yet the invisible thread of fate binds them together. What happens when the sun and the moon fall in love? Lovely Day and Night AU!

A Lunar Eclipse to Remember by Phoenix_Rising719, Gen, 7.5k
The King of Night, Yuuri Katsuki, is doing his best to keep it together and host a Lunar Eclipse Gala on his own. But that only works so well with out poor anxiety ridden child. But that’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, right? Such a great fic!

Dusk & Dawn by Watermelonsmellinfellon, Mature, 3.5k
Victor was the King of Day. Dawn incarnate. Yuuri was the King of Night. Dusk incarnate. Dawn and Dusk come together twice every day, to exchange duties. They are eternal, existing in a romance as old as time itself. And the celestial bodies of their universe forever turn because of their power and love. I LOVE this!

The Eclipse of Roses by OrionHunts, Gen, 2k 
Victor is the king of daytime, better known as Day, and is crushing on his neighboring king, Night. After sending countless flowers Yuuri’s way, it finally takes Night’s dear friend Dusk (Phichit) to give the two of them the final push into falling in love. Phichit is the best matchmaker tbh

Sky of Endless Love by CagedBirdSings, Gen, 3.2k (WIP)
In a Realm far above the Earth, the King of Day leaves behind roses of vivid red - all in the hopes of having his feelings reach the King of Night. Meanwhile, Yuuri wonders why Victor keeps dropping his roses. SO FREAKIN CUTE

Stardust by Iki_victuri, Not Rated, 5.9k
After millennia of crossing paths daily Yuuri still had never even gazed upon the Day King’s face. All that will change in a fraction of a moment, along with his life, forever. Thumbs up!

When The Sun Chases The Moon From The Sky by ShrubbyScribe, Teen, 13k
The first time it happened, he thought it was a mistake.
The second time it happened, he didn’t know what to make of it.
The seventh time it happened, he started to get annoyed. AWESOME fic!

Finally Here by darklilcorner, Gen, 1.9k
Yuuri is the King of Night and Viktor is the King of Day. Grateful to the Night for allowing him to rest, Viktor leaves meaningful roses for Yuuri. The roses show how he feels, but Yuuri always returns them… Great fic!

morning and night by cosmofluous, Gen, 2.9k (WIP)
He really does hang the stars in the sky, and burn as bright as the sun. The descriptions in this fic are amazing!

Of Cloudless Climbs and Starry Skies by Maiden_of_the_Moon, Gen, 1.5k
The King of Day should not turn his head to watch. He should not hesitate, even though the sun does in the distance. He should not drop that single rose when their slippers align, when their gossamer gowns chafe whispers, and starlight pokes pinpricks into the dome of the sky. He should not romanticize that moment when day is overcome by night.But in being so overcome, how can he not? Very good fic!

For Your Time (I’ll Give You This Smile) by Liana_Legaspi, Gen, 2.2k
“Do you love me?” the King of Day says to Yuuri’s retreating back.Stop.Think.“I haven’t decided yet.” Yuuri confesses, “I might hate you.”There’s a smile in Viktor’s voice that’s sweeter than any lullaby Yuuri’s ever heard. “Then, if that’s the case, I’ll wait with you until you decide.” WOW!

Open Up The Stars by Kisnau, Gen, 9.4k (WIP)
The Sun and Moon were old friends. This is not a story of the Sun and Moon, equal entities and ancient neighbors. This is a story of their children, Night and Day. 

Fitting Les Misérables quotes for the signs

Aries:  “The future has several names. For the weak, it is impossible; for the fainthearted, it is unknown; but for the valiant, it is ideal.”

Taurus: “The delight we inspire in others has this enchanting peculiarity that, far from being diminished like every other reflection, it returns to us more radiant than ever.”

Gemini:  “A man is not idle because he is absorbed in thought. There is visible labor and there is invisible labor.”

Cancer:  “You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it.”

Leo:  “The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.”

Virgo: “Not being heard is no reason for silence.”

Libra:  “Laughter is sunshine, it chases winter from the human face.” 

Scorpio:  “There is a prospect greater than the sea, and it is the sky; there is a prospect greater than the sky, and it is the human soul.”

Sagittarius:  “It is nothing to die. It is dreadful not to live.” 

Capricorn:  “If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.”

Aquarius:  “If you wish to understand what Revolution is, call it Progress; and if you wish to understand what Progress is, call it Tomorrow.”

Pisces:  “A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in – what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.”

I need god
Not like “invisible man in the sky” God
Not like “sitting for hours being told how to think” God
Not like “stand in line like the rest” God

I need “sitting in the park staring at birds” god
like “isn’t this life a trip” god
like “this moment right here” god
like “chocolate and laughter and orgasm and ocean waves and moments of connection” god
Like “billions of years this rock floated in space and here I am” god
Like “standing in Rite Aid and this baby looked right at me and just smiled” god
Like “look how we survive all the pain and still we heal” god

And y'all need to find god
If you tear people down
If you think I’m going to hell
for accepting and loving all the queer butch femme that I am
For wanting balance
for knowing that restricting myself
To fit into a black and white world is no way to live, really live

You need to find god if you condemn me
For not needing to be commanded
to love my neighbor
Not like “love the sinner hate the sin” love
I love you
Like “you have infinite complexity within you” love
Like “I hope you find peace of mind” love

But you need to find god
if you think you’re above anyone
Just because your colonized mind
tries to manifest destiny into my space
Just because you have a story
where I came from a man’s rib in a magic garden one day

I know a story too where
We were once born from primordial waters
We were once migrating from the Sahara
We were once charting the stars
Before the lie that is borders
and fences and ownership and greed
Before the lie than any one man held the truth,
some divine secret
As if all that power was for us
and not actually to own our devotion
Like you’d be rewarded after life
if you put up with suffering under their feet
instead of questioning that power

My problem is not with god, but with man
Have your faith if you choose
Let me find truth,
that’s all I need
I get closer to it every day,
I search for it
breath it in when I can
That’s all the god I need

—  Finding God, Christina O.
Religion has actually convinced people…that there’s an invisible man, living in the sky, who watches everything you do, every minute of every day.  And the invisibly man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things he has a special place full of fire, and smoke and burning and torture, and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and scream and cry forever and ever, til the end of time. But he loves you.
—  George Carlin
Conduit

Request: “can i request a angry!makeout session with credence? idk maybe you’re fighting or something.”

Pairing: Credence Barebone x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: it get’s HOT AND HEAVY ok, be prepared. ALSO cocky Credence (in more than one way).

With a final grunt, Credence let his arms fall. Newt simply brought a clammy hand up to his face, rubbing over the lethargic feeling that was beginning to seep in.

“I’m sorry. I know I can do it.” Credence apologised. “I just need to get really angry.”

Newt paced down the stairs and into the specially devised glass box. He hated putting the boy in here. “It’s quite alright. Go get some rest. Perhaps you’re just afraid because you’re thinking about it too much.”

It was partially true. No matter how many times Newt had reassured him that the box would contain his Obscurus when it came out Credence always had that same deep-rooted fear. The fear that his black seething power would break out, and implicate him by hurting someone he cared about.

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📖 OPENING LINES FROM LITERATURE   /  STARTER SENTENCES. 📖

  • ❛ To get there you follow Highway 58, going northeast out of the city, and it is a good highway and new. ❜
  • ❛ My high school friends have begun to suspect I haven’t told them the full story of my life. ❜
  • ❛ _____ didn’t know if he could fart his way into a major diplomatic incident. But he was ready to find out. ❜
  • ❛ Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. ❜
  • ❛ Who is _____? ❜
  • ❛ I’ve been called _____ all my life, but my name’s _____. ❜
  • ❛ The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it. ❜
  • ❛ There are sores which slowly erode the mind in solitude like a kind of canker. ❜
  • ❛ The building was on fire, and it wasn’t my fault. ❜
  • ❛ I shall clasp my hands together and bow to the corners of the world. ❜
  • ❛ Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity–Good. ❜
  • ❛ The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. ❜
  • ❛ Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. ❜
  • ❛ If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. ❜
  • ❛ They murdered him. ❜
  • ❛ If you’re going to read this, don’t bother. ❜
  • ❛ You better not never tell nobody but God. ❜
  • ❛ A voice comes to one in the dark. ❜
  • ❛ The cosmos is all that is or ever was or ever will be. ❜
  • ❛ It was the day my grandmother exploded. ❜
  • ❛ It was 7 minutes after midnight. ❜
  • ❛ When a day that you happen to know is Wednesday starts off by sounding like Sunday, there is something seriously wrong somewhere. ❜
  • ❛ Conventions, like clichés, have a way of surviving their own usefulness. ❜
  • ❛ This time there would be no witnesses. ❜
  • ❛ That’s good thinking there, _____. ❜
  • ❛ _____ was drunk. ❜
  • ❛ In a sense, I am _____. ❜
  • ❛ The beginning is simple to mark. ❜
  • ❛ What about the teakettle? What if the spout opened and closed when the steam came out, so it would become a mouth, and it could whistle pretty melodies, or do Shakespeare, or just crack up with me. ❜
  • ❛ It was a pleasure to burn. ❜
  • ❛ It was like so, but wasn’t. ❜
  • ❛ In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. ❜
  • ❛ I told you last night that I might be gone sometime, and you said, Where, and I said, To be with the Good Lord, and you said, Why, and I said, Because I’m old, and you said, I don’t think you’re old. ❜
  • ❛ Everyone had always said that _____ would be a preacher when he grew up, just like his father. ❜
  • ❛ The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. ❜
  • ❛ It was time to whip the god. ❜
  • ❛ This is the saddest story I have ever heard. ❜
  • ❛ There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife. ❜
  • ❛ A screaming comes across the sky. ❜
  • ❛ In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. ❜
  • ❛ No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. ❜
  • ❛ When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. ❜
  • ❛ For a long time, I went to bed early. ❜
  • ❛ I am an invisible man. ❜
  • ❛ The first time I read the ad, I choked and cursed and spat and threw the paper to the floor. ❜
  • ❛ Kidnapping children is never a good idea; all the same, sometimes it has to be done. ❜
  • ❛ There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. ❜
  • ❛ The sun rose slowly, as if it wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. ❜
  • ❛ _____, light of my life, fire of my loins. ❜
  • ❛ My purpose is to tell of bodies which have been transformed into shapes of a different kind. ❜
  • ❛ Call me _____ ❜
  • ❛ I am a sick man… I am a spiteful man. I am an unpleasant man. I think my liver is diseased. ❜
  • ❛ All children, except one, grow up. ❜
  • ❛ My wound is geography. ❜
  • ❛ He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. ❜
  • ❛ All this happened, more or less. ❜
  • ❛ Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Four shots ripped into my groin and I was off on the greatest adventure of my life! ❜
  • ❛ True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? ❜
  • ❛ Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. ❜
  • ❛ In my earliest memory, my grandfather is as bald as a stone and he takes me to see the tigers. ❜
  • ❛ Not every 13-year-old girl is accused of murder, brought to trial, and found guilty. ❜
  • ❛ Where now? Who now? When now? ❜
  • ❛ Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. ❜
  • ❛ Nothing ever begins. ❜
  • ❛ It was a dark and stormy night. ❜
KHR Prompt

When Tsuna was little, Nana had to be on guard against kitsune trying to kidnap Tsuna because hello there fire child clearly you belong with us. The sealing inadvertently kept Tsuna from being spirited away, so they relaxed a bit.

Then Reborn came and unsealed his fire, and to centuries old foxes a few years isn’t that long at all. Reborn is wondering what’s with all these foxes popping up in odd places. Nana’s reaction when she finds out, well, it’s always the nice ones.  

- OpalIstas

0-0-0-0-0-0

The kitsune come when Tsuna is little more than a toddler, playing around outside in the sunny weather. He’s smiling and clapping as he runs about and Nana watches him beneath her sunhat while she gardens with a fond smile. Occasionally his bouncy ball (a last-minute gift from Papa) will roll her way, and she’ll have to put down her trowel and bounce it back, but she doesn’t mind.

The real trouble starts when the next door neighbor’s dog, a tiny little terror that he’s named Akane, gets loose and rushes over, slipping through the fence and rushing up to Tsuna to bark at him. She doesn’t try to play with him, just bark. Nana hears the sound of her collar tags striking each other and turns just in time to see the little dog get through her fence, run up to a terrified Tsuna, who has stopped and is backing up, and begins to bark.

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Jesse McCree was the sun, and Hanzo Shimada was the moon.

Jesse was warm, and bright, and felt like home.

Hanzo was cool, and sometimes he shone as a bright beacon. Sometimes he was a distant, invisible ghost.

Their meetings were brief. Secret, shared moments. The moon and the sun in the same sky. Passionate embraces, whispered promises they knew neither could fulfill.

They worked together in tandem, needing no words, a fiery gunslinger and an icy archer. The dragons sought his warmth, curling around him with joyous purrs.

The sun was as much a wanted man as the moon. The noose tightens.

The sun must set, at the end of the day.

The moon cried, the dragons roared their rage, when the rope pulled the sun too far.

The moon unleashed his pain and cast darkness on the hangman from the bright agony of his arrows, raining with divine fury until the streets ran red with vengeance, red as the dying rays swallowed by the horizon.

The moon carried the sun through the night, wishing, praying for those promises.

The sky was dark. Not even a star lit its inky expanse.

The moon forgot, though, that morning came. It came in the form of an angel, an angel who saved the star that the moon had once killed.

And the sun rose.

The sun refused to let the moon leave his side, and through day and night they worked in harmony, gunslinger and archer, until their lights faded, soft and gray, beating impossible odds through years and years. And when the sun set for the last time, the moon was beside him, ready to follow him into the heavens.

The light’s escaping the sky, and there’s this place I like to stand, it’s before the rise, so I’m invisible. I’m standing there, and I’ve got the dog, and the man is mowing in his circles. So many circles. There are no birds or anything, or none that I can see. I imagine what it must be like to stay hidden, disappear in the dusky nothing and stay still in the night. It’s not sadness, though it may sound like it. I’m thinking about people and trees and how I wish I could be silent more, be more tree than anything else, less clumsy and loud, less crow, more cool white pine, and how it’s hard not to always want something else, not just to let the savage grass grow.
—  Ada Limon, from “Mowing,” Bright Dead Things (Milkweed Editions, 2015)                          

anonymous asked:

I'm curious. Why do you care about any injustices if you don't believe in life after life on Earth? If we're all heading in the direction of non-existence, does it really matter how we get there or what happens to us along the way? You could say that you are fighting to improve the quality of life for the future generations, but why bother? Why do people need to live good lives if life is ultimately null and void? (btw, I myself do not follow a religion but i do believe in a creator)

That’s all the more reason to care about injustices isn’t it? If we only have life on this Earth then that’s what matters. Why should we not strive to make the one life as beneficial for humans existing and that will exist in the future?

We are all of us already the sum of human knowledge, that we can pass information from generation to generation is why we’re so advanced. Each new generation gains knowledge in grade school that took centuries for other humans to achieve. 

I see it the other way around: if life is just a waiting room for paradise what’s the point of trying to improve the here and now? 

I think believing in the afterlife allows people to ignore suffering. Oh those starving children? Well they were innocent, they’ll go to god’s side after their needlessly painful, short lives. Oh the person who harmed you escaped human justice? It’s okay, an invisible sky entity will get ‘em good when they die, no reason to examine and strive to repair a broken system. That evil man profiting and benefiting from his evil his entire life? Oh well only god can judge him and he’ll get burned in the end! No need to promote ideas that will prevent future tyrants and profiteers. 

I don’t have to respect your religion, nobody does.

I’m sick and tired of people thinking I have to respect them or their religion, if I say a joke about any religion people get so touchy about it and get offended. GET THE FUCK OVER IT.

this is pissing me off so much. why do people think I give a shit about the invisible man that lives in the sky they believe in?

grow up, stop getting offended by every little thing a person says. if you are so sensitive then don’t go on the Internet bc it’s not the place for you. believe in any god you want, just don’t go out of your way to push people to believe in him.

if you think sex before marriage is a sin, good for you, don’t do it. if you think not going to church (or in my case to the Synagogue) is a sin, then do what you need to do, don’t sin, go and pray or whatever. nobody cares. stop pushing your beliefs down our throats, get the fuck over the fact that not everyone believes the same stupid thing. nobody needs to respect your beliefs.

The Great Chain
Andrew Ryan

I believe in no God, no invisible man in the sky. But there is something more powerful than each of us, a combination of our efforts, a Great Chain of industry that unites us. But it is only when we struggle in our own interest that the chain pulls society in the right direction. The chain is too powerful and too mysterious for any government to guide. Any man who tells you different either has his hand in your pocket, or a pistol to your neck.

Dunkirk fic - spoilers

After watching Dunkirk for the second time this week, I was inspired to do a small fic about Collins, the RAF pilot that made it home. This is the rambling thoughts of what he might’ve felt back on solid ground. 


When Collins’s feet hit empty pavements, he could only feel relieved. His progress had been halting and uneasy, his seawater hardened blue RAF uniform brushing against those of soldiers covered in fatigue, sand, and blood. With each jostle, there was a stare accompanied by words of sharp accusation. They looked upon his RAF wings, his colours and he could see upon their face every life that he could not save by going down with his plane.

Where were you?

The old man Mr Dawson had been kind when he said that he, his son Peter, and the soldiers they rescued knew where Collins had been in this battle. He was a spitfire pilot and so far from the eyes of desperate men and boys at Dunkirk. He and Farrier tried their damnedest to hit their target, tried to fight a war behind the glass of their mechanical bird and ignore how lonely they were even as a squadron of three. But those words meant nothing to the shell-shocked men that now roamed the streets. To them, he was the arrow that didn’t hit the target. He represented a branch of the defence force that they felt left them stranded, so close to home yet unable to touch. Collins was there and he tried. The soldiers wouldn’t care.

It was in the dead of night away from the rumblings that was the dock that Collins allowed himself a moment to think. Squadron leader Cainfield had fallen and most likely dead. Farrier, his brother in arms, wasn’t here with him. Some distant part of his mind hoped that his fellow pilot would be alive. Another part of his mind whispered that the likelihood of him making it back to home was little. By god that man shot down those planes with a determination that vibrated in Farrier’s very bones. A determination that was shared by all the pilots that had flown across the channel. Farrier had saved lives. If there was a God above in the skies Collins had trained in then surely, they must see that.

In a matter of hours Collins went from a man of the sky to the rescued. Another set of hands to pull bodies on board. Witness to a merciful lad so young yet understanding that to tell the truth about the covered body lying below in the cabin was to add another invisible scar to the shivering soldier’s back. He was a retreating figure looking on into water set aflame and men left behind burning.

Collins’s skin itched from the salt forming on his skin, his body starting to shiver against the cold wind. He was hungry, he realised and so very tired. The adrenaline of dragging body after body onto the pleasure yacht had all but left his bones. Collins was now simply a man back on ground with no blue sky around him. He should be heading to the trains, he knew. He should be trying to find his way home. But all he wanted to do was sit and close his eyes, shut off the gunning fire that echoed at the back of his mind and with his mind eye replay the last time he really felt safe.

“Young man, are you lost?” A voice enquired to his right. When did he stop moving? The man was younger than Mr Dawson though not by much. A undistinguishable coloured hat over his head and the emotions of life creased memories on his face. Two bags filled with blankets and other necessities stooped his back.

“No, I—” Collins pinched between his brows for a moment with shaking fingers. He couldn’t figure out what to say. With a grown the other man dropped his bags and fished into its contents, pulling out one of the many grey blankets that Collins had seen given to the soldiers at the docks. He murmured a quick thank you and wrapped it around his shoulders, hiding his RAF wings. But the old man had saw for he then asked.

“One of ‘em spitfires?”

“Aye,” Collins replied whilst helping the man with one of the bag blankets despite his complaints. He didn’t want to say more. Whatever words were jumbled between his teeth, stuck in his throat.

“Well let’s get you back to the trains, eh? Get you back to your home.”

Home. Home had come for them in a form of small boats. Not by navy fleets or destroyers. Not armed to the teeth with guns and grenades and gambits of the warfare trade. People with lives. People who were called to help. And yet with feet on home soil Collins felt the salt water seeping through the cracks. His hands still hurt from gripping the butt of his flare gun and slamming it into glass.

It was just as crowded at the trains as the docks were before although the time of night had caused everyone to walk in a stupor from sheer remaining grit. With the blanket around his shoulders Collins didn’t get a second glance. If he did, he didn’t notice. The instant soldiers hit the seats their minds switched off and heads lolled. Collins wasn’t so lucky. He could only gaze at the thousands of ducked heads that filled the carriages.

He was on a train heading home. He had a blanket around him and more leg space than he could ever dream of in his spitfire. Somewhere across the channel was Farrier. Somewhere in the ocean was a fallen comrade. Somewhere between two countries life-jackets floated long cold bodies between waves. In the sand were littered remains of bombs and shell casings. The bottom of the ocean, the resting grounds of once-majestic war ships.

What sheer luck. What sheer stupid luck.

Collins breathed in and out. He forced his eyes shut.

He was alive. For now, that was enough.

4

RIP Baz, you old silver fox. We miss you! You were like the second Dembe. Loyal to Red, and always by his side. 

Rest in Peace, Baz

The cemetery was all but empty but for a small group around a newly dug grave. It was raining but Red politely refused the umbrella that Dembe handed to him.

“It’s okay, Dembe. It feels rather fitting that the sky be unleashing the waterworks also,” he told the black man. His eyes flitted over the small gathering who had come to recognize their friend and colleague, Baz. In life, Baz had been a larger than life hero, but one of the invisible. His deeds were noticed; the man was not. And that’s the way he had preferred. To be the quiet achiever. The lone wolf, giving his allegiance only to a valued few. Reddington counted himself blessed to have been among that small number.

In death, only his closest friends and allies came to remember the man they knew as Baz. In the pouring rain, it was a somber affair. Red stepped up, and without need of notes or a sheet of paper to prompt him, he spoke to the gathering.

“We come here today to remember a man we held dear. A man who lost his life doing what he chose to do best – protecting others. Baz was more than my trusted employee. He was my friend. Each of us here had the pleasure of knowing this wonderful man, and having him in our lives.” Red stopped, looked into the faces of those gathered, who nodded in agreement.

“Many never knew his full name. He was just Baz to most. A name that conjures images of a man with a gentle smile, a gleam in his eye that spoke of a deep love of life, and of a loyal friend and confidant who possessed the most intense sense of duty. He was that and more. He was a marksman, a sniper, a medic when needed, a helicopter pilot in a pinch and an all-round life-saver. He was one of the treasured few on this planet who could go into any situation flung at him, and come out alive on the other end, usually with innocents in tow whom he had delivered from fates worth than death. None of which was a job to Baz. It was not something he merely did. It is who he was.”

Red looked up into the rain, letting it wash over his features, then spoke again, lowering his gaze to the coffin at his feet.

“Were this fine man in the military, he would have been awarded the Medal of Honor by the President. No such trinkets adorned his chest. He wasn’t one for finery, awards or accolades. He simply did what came naturally, and saved a lot of lives in the process, mine included, on several occasions. He deserved more. Sadly, his days have ended, but his memory will live on in the hearts and minds of those who loved this beautiful soul. We will miss him. His loss will leave a hole in our lives that can never be filled by another.”

Red stopped, bowed his head and touched the wet cherry wood of the coffin with his hand. “It has been an honor to have had you in my life, my dear friend. Rest in Peace, Baz.”

Thanks @ventingblacklist who suggested today, November 29th, be Baz day and a tribute to him.

“The Little Prince” Quotes for the signs...

Aries: “You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them…In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night…You - only you - will have stars that can laugh.”

Taurus: “All grown-ups were once children… but only few of them remember it.”  

Gemini: “Where are the people?” resumed the little prince at last. “It’s a little lonely in the desert…” “It is lonely when you’re among people, too,” said the snake.”

Cancer: “It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.”  

Leo: “Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.”

Virgo: “If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers…”  

Libra: “A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.”  

Scorpio: “What makes the desert beautiful,’ said the little prince, ‘is that somewhere it hides a well…”  

Sagittarius: “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

Capricorn: “But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”  

Aquarius:      “People have forgotten this truth,“ the fox said. "But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose.”

Pisces: “I ought not to have listened to her,’ he confided to me one day. 'One never ought to listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe their fragrance. Mine perfumed all my planet. But I did not know how to take pleasure in all her grace.”

The Guardian - Loki (Part 2)


“Y/N” The familiar voice of Thor called, I focused deeply on his tone. “Find Loki, he’s attacking mudguard” My eyes shut tightly, focusing on his long dark hair, the sound of his voice in murmurs. I focused on the street he was on, his smile as his suit transforms into the attire I had grown use to seeing. “I need your help”

“Thor” I whispered, looking around for him, I walked into the crowd, looking up to Loki who had a menacing smile on his face.

“Kneel before me” He shouted, making people jump, as they tried to run away, Loki projected himself, blocking everyone in. “I said. Kneel!” He screamed further, smiling to himself. I stared up at the man I use to be friends with, frowning to myself.

“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel” Loki’s soliloquy made my eyes roll. I knelt alongside everyone else, watching as one elderly man remained stood.

“Not to men like you” He challenged, I watched as Loki’s face fell, anger rising.

There are no men like me” He growled, I looked to the man a few meters away, the brave man who refused to fall at Loki’s feet.

“There are always men like you” The elderly man looked Loki directly in the eye and remained stood.

“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example” He cheered, pointing his scepter. My eyes widened and I watched as it fired, ricocheting from the shield of a man who jumped before the elderly man. The beam split, and I watched as Loki was knocked back, before feeling the pain in my stomach.

Keep reading

the sun, the moon, and you

winkdeephwi; angst


the moon always disappears when the sun rises. it’s always there, lingering in the sky, but behind the golden flare of the untouchable sun— and it’s suddenly nonexistent, invisible to the eyes on earth.

this is a cycle. a ruthless one, but still a painful and toxic cycle that the moon has to go through every single day, till it explodes and deceases one day.

lee daehwi thinks that he’s the moon.

the sun’s the emperor, the man that can destroy and make the kingdom thrive just by one word, a gesture, a twitch of his fingers. that’s park jihoon. and lee daehwi’s nothing compared to him, because how could you compare a simple astrologist to an emperor?

but there’s one more person, the earth. the moon revolves around the earth, and to him, the earth’s the only thing he wants and knows, but the earth revolves around the sun. everything ends up revolving around the sun in daehwi’s little universe, including bae jinyoung.

and so here we have the moon, the earth, and the sun. namely lee daehwi, bae jinyoung, and park jihoon respectively.

they’re all well known throughout the royal court— daehwi being the cryptic astrologist, that the emperor favours and lives in the court. jinyoung’s the royal advisor, and he’s the shadow to the emperor, for a lack of a better description. it’s well understood, though, as the both of them have been best friends since young. daehwi came into the friendship circle much later, but it didn’t stop the two from drilling into him and his deepest secrets.

it’s obvious how jihoon’s in love with jinyoung. even a fool could tell, with those shaped doe eyes of his betraying his heart. if you observed clearly, or even squinted a little, you could perhaps see, the steady thumping of the organ itself presenting in the brown river of stars that’s jihoon’s eyes.

and whatever the emperor wants, he gets it.

daehwi knows that jinyoung’s his. he had known from the start, with the constellations that formed in jihoon’s eyes whenever jinyoung spoke, or smiled. it’s fun, amusing maybe, to see one of your friends in love with another.

but it’s not fun when you’re in love with that person. what should be teasing smiles and friendly smacks on the back turns into drunken nights, a meteor shower of teardrops accompanied, and the painful tearing of every fibre of your heart everytime you see his eyes. those eyes full of love, so transparent and pure.

daehwi’s hurting, because jihoon loves jinyoung so much, and he can’t do anything about it, because jihoon’s the sun. the center of the universe. even if he’s the loyal moon that silently revolves around all that’s in his eyes, the earth, he can’t overcome the attractive force that the sun has.

and so he watches, and takes shelter in his haven, the only place where he can immerse in the universe and toss all of his problems into the black night sky.

it’s one winter night, where daehwi’s wrapped warmly under layers and layers of robes and underclothing, and looking up at the white specks against the ebony canvas, his hand scribbling a few observations of the celestial body. he’s in the backyard of his house, seated in the small pavilion there. it’s here where daehwi devotes himself to his work, or so he hoped, because he knows that he can’t really ever forget about bae jinyoung for even a mere second.

“daehwi.”

and it’s that voice again, that familiar shadow against the glow of the warm lantern lights from his abode. daehwi looks up, into the black irises of jinyoung. he’s always dreamed, from the start, that he would be the one who fills those irises with stars and planets, but he no longer dares to dream.

“come sit here.” daehwi pats the cold stone surface beside him, and jinyoung obeys. it’s a strange feeling, for someone to be sitting beside him in this quaint pavilion. silence welcomes itself to the party, weaving through their bodies and the space between them.

“there’s a meteor shower right now.” daehwi finds himself saying, and looking at the light grey clouds that patches across the night sky, deforming and reforming, the cotton seeming strands weaving itself into each other. there’s no sign of a meteor shower at all, but then again, it’s a cloudy night.

“it’s still there, right? behind and beyond these clouds.” jinyoung speaks up, his voice thick, and daehwi sees them now, the transparent drops of tears that slide down the smooth skin. he doesn’t move to console him, or even touch him, because he knows that if he moves even one inch of his body, the melancholy that’s on the brink of his eyes will fall down, and that can’t happen, not when he has more to say.

“jinyoung, i suppose you’ve known for a long time, but i’m telling you, the night before your marriage, that i’m in love with you.” daehwi’s head is inclined up, towards the sky, and one might think that he’s talking to himself, but the boy beside him knows much better.

“i’ve always been in love with you. but the sun’s always there, and i, i can only fall deeper into this blackhole called love and end up get shredded into millions of pieces. the whole universe is there, embedded in your body, and who care if you can’t kiss? you noted that the meteor shower is still happening behind the clouds, and that’s marvellous. you can see through the clouds.

it’s stupid of me to say this when you’re jihoon’s husband tomorrow, but bae jinyoung, i am in love with you.”

finally, the barrier breaks, and jinyoung watches as all the stars flow down, the tear stained paths on daehwi’s cheeks like the milky way itself. jinyoung glances up, and the clouds have dispersed, the round, silver moon exposed there, in all of its brilliance, casting against the both of them, against daehwi’s tears.

“daehwi, i-“

“it’s alright, jinyoung. i’ll be fine. it’s not the end of the world, is it?” daehwi smiles, but it’s futile, from his red brimmed eyes and quivering lips. he’s strong, holding up his crumbling world with metal columns in his heart.

silence overtake them once again, and it’s the end of the conversation, their last conversation. jinyoung doesn’t know that, and he looks up. the clouds have dispersed again, like a curtain unveiling the stage, and there’s the dotted canvas that daehwi knows so well, with dashes of silver across it now.

they fly across the sky, one after another, with such speed that if you blink, they’ll disappear. a barely visible silver trail is all that’s left behind them, and even so, it blends into the ink-black night, dispersing itself away. neither of them makes a wish. there’s a point of time in life where you realise, that there’s nothing else you’d wish for— what will happen, will eventually come. and what will not, will continue to be a fragment of your dreams.

for now, daehwi’s just glad that the clouds pity him. jinyoung doesn’t need to know that after the big occasion tomorrow, the newlywed couple would bustle into his house, just to find it empty, cold, and absent of any life. it’s for the best, but daehwi knows that he’ll never really leave jinyoung.

after all, it’s impossible for the moon to escape from the pull of the earth.

Going Through Changes

Title: Going Through Changes (Part 2 for Walk Away)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,600+

Warning: Swearing, Depression, Suicide Attempt and Alcohol usage

Summary: Y/N’s gone and Dean might as well be, or at least that’s what Dean thinks as he falls deeper into his depression. But, will a series of unfortunate events bring them back together?

Author’s Note: Part two to “Walk away” and Day 4 of my December series. I really appreciate the feedback, and am super happy you guys all loved “Walk Away” so per request here is Part Two! Let me know again if you want a part 3! Send in any request, if you have any as well.

Originally posted by won-der-land89

Dean sat on his bed staring at the wall in front of him. Right above his T.V., that damned photo in what had to be the most god-awful frame. That wasn’t his focus, though, no instead his eyes drifted to hers. Bright and wide-eyed. She was still full of hope then, now, everything was different.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam came in with a sigh his voice monotone. “Um, there’s a lead on Jack and…” Sam couldn’t stand to see his brother this way.

Sam’s whole life Dean was always the one with his shit together. Sam needed his big brother constantly, somethings just didn’t change, and that was one of them. To look at him now, though, killed Sam. Dean’s eyes were sunken in, his skin pale and clammy. He looked like pure shit if Sam was being honest, but now wasn’t the time for that. Sam was only nearly turned out the door with a mere crack left to be shut.

“I hear him every time I go to sleep,” Dean mumbled looking to his younger brother.  "He screams at me, tells me it’s all my fault.“ Dean’s eyes glassed over.

Sam could hardly look at him, so, instead settled on the ground.

"It was my fault, that was someone’s kid and now the boy is just…dead,” Dean whispered before taking another swig of Vodka. “That’ll always be my fault.”

“Dean you can’t just-.”

“What else do I have to do Sam? My girl left me while carrying my child, I have nothing anymore.”

“Exactly, she’s carrying your child and you nearly punched her in the face,” Sam said looking at his brother. “You’re a giant man with a giant fist and she’s just trying to be a good enough mom to her unborn baby and keep this damn family intact.” Sam scoffed and Dean looked up at him. “We lose people Dean and I understand that all you wanted to do was to save that boy but at the cost of who’s life?” Sam asked. “If you went down in that fire do you have any idea what would’ve happened to Y/N? What would’ve happened to me? We’d never be the same Y/N sure as hell wouldn’t be!” He exclaimed for once his brother was listening and he needed to get this through to him. “Dean you can’t sit here and mope around all damn day you hear if you need to grieve Dean you grieve and if you need to grieve some more fucking do it but this-.” Sam sighed looking around the empty room that used to be filled with his brother’s lover’s light and energy. “This is worse and I can’t stand to stay like this.” Sam finished.

“What is that, huh? Some sort of damn ultimatum?” Dean asked going back to his staring game with the picture of that very girl Sam spoke of.

“Pull it together Dean or all of those who care about you won’t be around much longer,” Sam spoke with a sort of authoritative tone that made Dean want to just turn and punch him.

With that, Sam left the room and Dean looked at the clock. It was later, 11 o'clock to be exact. Dean rose from his bed and made his way into the bathroom. Her stuff gone made it all feel empty, even if it was just a toothbrush and comb. Dean groaned at the sight of himself punching the mirror allowing it to cut through his skin. He pulled the mirror out and lone behold was the medicine cabinet. He had reached in grabbing anything he could before pouring a heavy and lethal dosage of medication into his hand before throwing it back. Swallowing each damn pill while naming off his many sins in his head until he just couldn’t any longer and feel against the wall. Conscious but weak. Dean sat there staring at his shoes, the ones Y/N bought him, before kicking them off, stumbling to his bed and just falling in. He took a huge swig of the Vodka that sat on his nightstand before falling into the dark abyss with the smell of her lighting the weight he carried on his shoulders for the last time.

———————————————————————————————————–

It was a worn down, no good motel, but it was all Y/N could afford. So, she stuck with it despite all its disgusting aspects and making due because that’s what moms did, right? Y/N was only a steady 12 weeks along barely showing. It more so looked like she put on a bit of weight than a baby bump, but it was a purpose. A reminder for a purpose in her life. While she sat at the table watching the tiny T.V. she couldn’t help to think about Dean. They hadn’t quite planned for a baby but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go down either. They were supposed to be together, but it didn’t look as though it was going to work out that way this time. Hunters’ stories didn’t end with happily ever after, and this was just another example of that. Now, with her stomach full, she placed her bowl on the counter that she had picked up from the Dollar Store and headed towards the bathroom for a shower.

“Oh, God.” Y/N groaned. “Again?” She asked the invisible man in the sky before huffing.

The damned shower’s curtain rod would not stop falling out of place, dropping on one side. So, Y/N climbed the border of the tub reaching up to fix the rod when she heard the squeal of a rat seeing it run across the floor. With her train of thought gone her foot was too. Just like that, she fell down into the tub with a crash and a bang. There was a quiet moment of the unsure haunting her as she looked down, and noticed her sweats tainted and she broke into a sob.

“N-No.” She cried sinking down into the tub before screaming, crying out for anyone’s help and sure enough, a neighbor came in and called 911.

But that didn’t take away from the blood seeping out her pants and the terror over the what she was so sure was the loss of her child.

———————————————————————————————————–

“You’re lucky Ms. Ruso.” The doctor said calling Y/N by her cover name all the while Y/N sighed with relief hearing the steady beating of her baby’s heart. “The fall was serious, but thankfully not threatening to you or your baby’s health.”

“Why-why did I bleed?” She asked with wonder.

“Merely due to impact your placenta separated from the uterus but just enough to cause bleeding.” The doctor explained. “I’ve sent for you to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy when you are discharged to help restore what was lost to that abruption.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, now would you like to know the gender?” The doctor abruptly asked catching Y/N off guard.

“I-I um I-.” Y/N stumbled over her words, did she want to know?

“How about this, I write down the gender seal it up in an envelope and you can look when you are ready.” The doctor suggested and Y/N nodded. “Alright then,” She passed Y/N the envelope. “I will give you some space to change and then I will meet you at the front desk.”

“Okay thank you.” Y/N closed the conversation as she heard the door shut, quick to stand and pull her clothes back on.

She then opened the heavy wooden door stepping out into the hallway then turning left to go towards the front desk. That’s when one man she never expected to see again rounded the corner with a coffee in one hand and ice chips in the other.

“Y/N.” Sam stopped and Y/N too.

“Um Sam, hi.” She mumbled.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked and Y/N sighed.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good just um just a checkup to well hear him or her.” Sam nodded with a smile.

“My little niece or nephew.” He whispered and Y/N swallowed.

“Why-Why are you here?” Why couldn’t Y/N keep it together? She knew this man for nearly 2 years of her lives why was she so jittery around him?

“It’s um it’s Dean,” Sam stated and she just nodded. “Tried to kill himself found him in bed laying in his spit up and blue.”

Y/N felt a tang of guilt she was his lover, his supporter. She should’ve been there to stop him and to protect him from himself. But, he pushed her out and made the fact he didn’t want her around very clear.

“He needs you Y/N he won’t admit it but he does he needs to be with you and this baby.” Y/N starred off as Sam talked. “Y/N? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I did.” She looked up at him. “I’m not going to go see him, I can’t chase after him anymore it’s all give on my end and none on his.” Sam’s eyes fell in disappointment but Y/N passed him a card writing down her Motel information. “If he needs me, he’ll find me.” Sam nodded.

“Thanks.” He mumbled as they shared a hug before they turned to walk different ways.

Sam walked to be with his brother, his crazy, fucked up brother who was going through some pretty serious changes that he knew his brother couldn’t fix on his own but trying to be there to support him anyway. And, on the other end. Y/N walked away from the hospital that housed the love of her life because despite how much it hurt, she was obeying his wishes, and was walking away.