watch it all burn

on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -

“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”

10

Resistance Is Built on Hope by chronicolicity

Rebelcaptain WWII AU. The year is 1940, and Europe is at war. Jyn Erso keeps her head down, apart from the occasional brushes with the law. She doesn’t care about flags or countries or sides or allegiances. She’s been on her own for a good, long time, and she won’t fight for anyone except herself.

So when she gets into trouble in German-occupied France, she doesn’t expect anyone’s help – least of all a so-called rescue party spearheaded by the Resistance, who break her out in order to make an offer that promises to change her life forever.

Read it on AO3!

I Curse You Until The Day You Die

Originally posted by vanish

*Note, This isn’t for a person who annoyed you at work or such, this is for someone who has ruined your life, for someone who has made your everyday existence into a living hell. You have to hate this person so much that you are willing to, well, curse them until the day they die*

The Spell

You will need:

  • An object of theirs or something to represent them (I had a drawing they did for me when we used to be friends)
  • A black candle
  • A cauldron or container big enough to fit the object in (It has to be heatproof and fireproof, also, take it outside if it’s bigger than your hand)
  • Your tears or something to represent your pain, like screaming.
  • A knife or pin.
  • water (As a safety measure)

Take their personal object and hold it in your hands. Now, I want you to remember everything they did to you, how much it hurt and how much you wanted to give up. Just let it all out, scream, cry, shout etc. Do whatever you need to release that emotion and just let it fill the object with every ounce of your anger, your sadness and your pain. Direct it all at them.

Now, Take your black candle and light it, you can chant this or something else:

“(Target’s Name), You will feel all that I feel,
And you will squeal,
Everytime you think of me, of my pain,
You will feel my struggle tenfold, for all your life.
You will carry this to your grave.”

Take you knife or pin or hammer and go all out on the object, fucking wreck it and let it show it’s distress.

Light the object on fire and place it in the container.

Now watch it burn, focus all that hate and anger into the flames, let them carry those emotions to the target, let the person feel everything, visualise them crying alone with no one to help them, let them be alone, they don’t deserve companionship.

Once it’s burnt, pour the water over it to make sure it’s out.


After-Care

This can be a very exhausting spell, spiritually, physically and mentally.
Take time to relax and calm down.

Take a Healing Bath by adding sea salt, rose petals and chamomile to your bath. Focus on the warmth of the water and let it absorb all your troubles.

Do something that you enjoy, whether it’s snuggling up in a blanket, listening to heavy metal or going for a jog. You do you.

Take time to cleanse the spell area too as energies can sometimes be left behind.

Just take care of yourself.

The signs as musical theatre responses to the US election results
  • Aries: No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
  • Taurus: I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living
  • Gemini: You've torn it all apart, I'm watching it burn
  • Cancer: You have invented a new kind of stupid a damage you can never undo kind of stupid
  • Leo: There's a moment you know you're fucked
  • Virgo: Go and hide and run away
  • Libra: Why God, why today?
  • Scorpio: Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise
  • Sagittarius: I know him, that can't be
  • Capricorn: See it's your fault. No. Yes it's your fault
  • Aquarius: Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men?
  • Pisces: Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit
10

Try to understand – this is long foretold. This is your– Destiny? Don’t give me that “holy” crap. Destiny, God’s plan… It’s all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It’s just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what’s real? People, families – that’s real. And you’re gonna watch them all burn?

I just can’t bury it all like most people can. I can’t push it out of my mind. Every moment of every day there is a war in me that wreaks havoc and destroys my insides. My brain is endlessly battered with waves of doubt and guilt and my heart is wrapped in thorns that grow tighter and tighter, squeezing the life out of me. All I can do is wait and watch and hope that after it all eventually burns down, my soul will have a chance to rebuild itself from the smoldering wreckage.
—  Z.M. 

grfygrf  asked:

I'd argue that Paul Ryan is pretty frickin' brainless given that the perfect conditions for a political revitalization were dropped into his lap and he still decided to stick to the party line and basically screw his entire future into oblivion by clinging to this faint and terrible concept of complete health care destruction. Honestly, he deserves to watch all his bridges burn before his eyes...

Paul Ryan is a fraud. He’s been propped up by a political press that is desperate to invent a Republican who isn’t cruel and indifferent to suffering. He’s a liar, he’s not very smart, and he’s sort of the House version of John McCain: like McCain claims to go against his party on principle (he never does), Ryan has this manufactured image as a policy wonk who studies economic theory and history to inform his positions (he doesn’t; his ‘education’ begins and ends with Ayn Rand).

So it isn’t surprising that he’s been a massive failure as a leader and a policy maker, because he is incapable of being either of those things.

INTP Future

INFP: So, INTP. What do you think the future will be like? I’m hoping we save the Earth and terraform Mars into a beautiful green paradise.

INTP: *Beautiful thoughts of a technologically advanced future where knowledge and creativity rule. Where the limits of biology no longer apply and nearly anything is possible.*

INTP: Eh, either we’re going to kill each other over something stupid or something is going to kill us for being stupid. Frankly I’m just here to watch it all burn.

Moonlight Reign (Ch. 2)

A/N: It’s been a pretty hot minute since an update, but I hope you think it’s well worth the wait (also some inklings of romance should be embedded soon!)

Originally posted by sugagifs

Pairing: Mafia boss!Yoongi x reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Angst, fluff, possible future smut

Summary: SOme things in this world are dangerous, and you, him, and the world that you once lived in that now belongs to him are just some of many you can’t be free from, but do you even want to be?



Namjoon closed his eyes, not wanting to watch as you went down, your eyes closing while your body went limp in Hoseok’s arms, “Y/n!” Jungkook, who was beginning to sober up shouted as he went to your body, “What the fuck, Hobi?!”

Hoseok, known for his nonchalant violence, shrugged, “She was threatening Namjoon,” Namjoon sighed as Jungkook scoffed.

“Threatening?! He gripped her wound, she flipped out!” Jungkook yelled as Hoseok placed your body on the couch.

“Hobi, you idiot,” Namjoon sighed, “Yoongi will freak out if we take some girl who patched up this drunk dumbass,” He gestured to Jungkook, “Let alone, how Jin will react if he finds out we knocked her out!” 

Jin was a natural born pacifist with a firm belief that talking, even if restrained, beats force. This philosophy, made him Yoongi’s second in command at the company.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was aggressive more than passive, but with a purpose. This purpose was why Bangtan became top, Yoongi always had purpose with each heavily calculated move, making him leader of the company and empire. 

With Namjoon as his second in command for the underground, he knew he would be the most screwed if Yoongi found out he made this girl a problem, “Make her forget it,” Namjoon sighed.

“Do I look like some Men In Black shit?” Jungkook slurred slightly.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “Give me the flask,” He ordered, looking toward his pocket packed with either vodka or moonshine.Jungkook was an alcohol lover, no doubt, despite the fact he was usually the discrete hitman, sent off to seduce both men and women only to end them, but as much he loved his job, he loved the alcohol in the flask a lot, “You owe me more,” He grumbled, handing over the vodka-filled flask.

“Shut up,” Namjoon snapped as Hoseok poured the liquid into her mouth then closing both her mouth and the flask, “Now come on, Yoongi is going to be really annoyed.”

Annoyed he was, Yoongi heard the story from the three men with a straight face and an occasionally raised brow, “So this is Jungkook’s fault?” He concluded as the younger nodded, “Well if you had not been so successful tonight with your jobs, I’d be pissed,” Jungkook noticeably relaxed, “Namjoon, have any of the girl you picked up found you by your first name? Have any of mine?” He shook his head, “Hobi, we get it you’re the drug guy,” Hoseok nodded as Yoongi heaved a sigh, “Well, let’s hope she believes that she got wasted, and Jungkook will convince her of that much.” The younger nodded again, “Namjoon, Hoseok, if you’re still suspicious, feel free to investigate, but as long as she provides free nursing to this accident prone idiot, I have no current issues, good fighter or not.” All three men nodded once more.

—-

You heard the door close and you immediately ran to the kitchen sink to spit out the vodka on your tongue. Hoseok hadn’t made sure you swallowed, a truly rookie move. This wasn’t the first attempt someone made to make you forget, and one of your bittersweet abilities was to find a way to remember, remember that Jungkook is a member of Bangtan and so was Taehyung, Jimin, Namjoon, and the unseen Hoseok. You had met Bangtan, well five of seven leaders, and now you had to hide from their eyes, from that world, because you don’t want to hold a controller to this game. 

You dry heaved at the feeling of the alcohol on your taste buds, “Fuck!” You cursed as you watched your arm drip blood.

They couldn’t at least patch you up? You had work tomorrow.

You sat up straight as you heard the plan. You were to burn it all. You were to watch it all go into smithereens. It was upon the plan explanation that you realized all the people you would be leaving behind. All the people who raised you.

“…Now we will have to get rid of everyone who knows your face, y/n-” Your uncle Byungjoo spoke.

Byungjoo was the second hand man to your father, and he was a ruthless man. He loved nothing but money, hated everything but money. One exception, however, was your father, and he only loved you because your father did.

“No.” You spoke out as your father stiffened and Byungjoo sighed.“Y/n, it’s for your safety.”

“If you do it, I will throw myself into the fire,” You seethed and Byungjoo chuckled, assuming it was a joke, “I swear on the blood of my father and your wife, I will die with those people,” Byungjoo ceased his giggles.

Your father took your death threats seriously. He may not have been loving, but he needed you to live, being you were his only child.“Y/n-”

“Let it go, Byungjoo, they live, end of discussion.”

The next morning was rough, to say the least.

With a sense of deja vu, you woke up to the sound of banging on your door. Groggily, you got up, opening the door cautiously, only to find the last person you wanted to see, “Hey, y/n, are you okay? You drank-”

“You’re a bad liar,” You shot Jungkook’s attempts down quickly as you walked towards your living room, leaving him to walk in and close the door, “I don’t drink,” You stated, sitting on your couch, turning on the news as he stood, dumbfounded, at the entrance of the closed door.

Jungkook didn’t know what to do, or who you even were anymore. He was shaken to the core by the prospect of Yoongi having to punish him. He shuddered, praying you were nice enough to ignore you being knocked out and alcohol being shoved down your throat.

“Wh-Why haven’t you called the cops?” He tripped over his words.

You scoffed, “Don’t insult me, like I don’t know they work under your little group’s thumb.”

“Y/n-”

“I spit out the vodka,” You explained, “It was a shockingly tiny amount of chloroform, so waking up wasn’t rocket science.”

Jungkook was speechless as he took notice of the news, “…Byungjoo was beaten severely outside an elite strip club, and he is still in Intensive Care. The last time we saw him was….” Jungkook took notice of the way you flinched.

“Did you…” Your voice was now quiet, “This is some sick prelude to a prelude?!” Your voice grew angrier, “Then what the fuck is the finale?”Your eyes were slightly glossed over, betraying you. You always had a weak dam blocking tears. Jungkook softened a bit at how hurt you looked, while you internally slapped yourself, angry that you felt a pang in your chest for the heartless filth that was your uncle. 

Jungkook froze again. His hazy memories of befriending and drinking with Byungjoo at the club slowly flowing back to him. A river of alcohol and strippers led the recollection. The night was beaten back into him by the sight of his faction of men giving Byungjoo the “warning”, but why did you care so much? “You know I can’t tell- Who is he to you?” Jungkook’s demeanor changed quickly and you could only stare.You two stared at each other for a while. You smacked yourself again for giving yourself away. 

There was no way in hell Jungkook wasn’t beginning to piece together who you were, all because of your stupid big mouth. Let’s make friends with the cute douche next do you said. Idiot. Jungkook, however, felt like he struck gold. Bangtan has been looking for you since they took over, and finally their plans could kick into high gear. If his hunch is right, and if you are cooperative, everything could finally fall into place, Bangtan locked in as kings, highest influencers, permanently.

“I have to go to work,” You stood up, “I think it’s best we stay away from each other.” Jungkook blinked for a moment only to begin sifting through your drawers, “Jungkook, stop!” You yelled, pulling him as he hit the wall next to him.

You and him struggled with each other, gridlocked, “Are you the green haired little girl?” He asked and everything stopped for both of you.

You humorlessly chuckled, “Wouldn’t I have killed you or your family by now?” You released your hold on his neck, “I’m going to work, steal whatever you want I guess.”

As Jungkook heard the door slam, he called Yoongi, “What?” The gruff voice of his hyung came.“She remembers-”

“What?! Are you fucking-”

“She’s the green haired girl, I think,” Jungkook spoke as the line went dead, “I’m almost positive, she left me in her house and went to work, what do I-”

Yoongi cooled the fire of his anger momentarily to register the information his dongsaeng administered. You, the girl who plays nurse to Jungkook, are the green haired psycho kid killer, the heiress to what was the biggest underground, and aboveground, empires. He smirked, excited to finally see who you grew up to be, and hungry for the answer to the question that could permanently seal him in as king.

“Tell me where she works and her name, and you will put everything back after you’re done, don’t let her know what you’ve seen” He ordered, “We want her to sweat, we want her scared, and we need her.”

—-

You always hated rock, paper, scissors.It was the game that ⅔ of the time that made you the bar waitress. The girl who dotes on the tables surrounding the bar, a demographic of touchy sports fanatics and lonely people looking for anything to go home with. The tips may have been nice, but they certainly weren’t that nice.

“Have fun,” Eunhwa, the owner of the locally famed restaurant spoke in my ear, “That guy is just sitting at a 8 person booth alone.” you grimaced as she took another very obvious look at the man, “Nevermind, I know who he is,” She sighed, looking at you, “God, you have grown, be careful today.” Your eyebrow quirked at her awkward shift in topic.

Eunhwa was your nanny in a sense. She taught you how to poison people but she also read you bedtime stories each night. After it all burned, she gave you this job when she realized you were abandoned. These days, she would mostly just come to open everything up and then go home, leaving the day to her manager, the shitty sex-hungry woman that was Dohye. She didn’t really talk to you, you didn’t have the right parts to interest her, she did however butt in when a moderately good looking man had the unfortunate fate of catching her radar. Although she was still stunning at only 30 years old, she was a crazy possessive one night stand that made one into at least seven. 

“Let go of me, please,” Byungyeol begged you with sorry eyes as you finally relented and released his torso from your arms with a trembling lip and a river that couldn’t stop from your eyes.

“I can’t… You can’t… Please, stay with me. I’m so scared of being alone-” You sobbed into your hands as you both sat in a car outside of your new home with pseudo-parents for your school’s concerns next door. His hand on your head quieted you. 

“I love you,” He whispered, kissing the top of your head,, “I rarely ever say it, but know that I do, my daughter,” He opened your door, “We will see each other again, I promise, give me three years and we’ll be together again, a normal family.” 

Rat bastard. You internally seethed as you patted down your black shirt with The Rose Palace embroidered on it with an accompanying rose, pondering how to approach the only guy in the bar area. While it had been a few hours since opening, the regular area was flourishing with customers, but the bar was fairly vacant, leaving you to saunter over to the mysterious man- holy shit was he attractive.

Yoongi sat, attentively waiting for the great y/n herself to take his order. He expected nothing much, seeing as you were a known hermit according to Jungkook, he didn’t expect much in your physique. He was told you were a strong-willed and smart-mouthed girl to Jungkook, so he expected some crappy service due to your sharp tongue slicing through your tip amount.Never in his life had Yoongi been so wrong.

He didn’t expect to choke on the water that had been previously set out on the table upon seeing your face. In a word, you were stunning. He watched as you did rock, paper, scissors, and something about the way you pouted upon losing made his whole demeanor quiver a bit. Your bandage on your arm didn’t go unnoticed by him either, perfectly wrapped.Yoongi sighed, you were nothing but a puzzle piece as far as he was concerned, but the way you were shaped made him want to connect you to him, even if for one night. However, you still had the possibility of a wit to make his libido for you shrink, and that possibility went to shit when you introduced yourself as his waiter.

“Hi, welcome to-” Your voice cracked somewhere between the welcome word, and so did your self-esteem a bit. Yoongi took notice of the very evident crack, stifling a chuckle, “I’m sorry you’re like really-uh I- drinks?” Your smile was nervous, and Yoongi’s lips perked up at your nervous nature.

“I’ll be having some friends around soon, but I’ll go with just a water, for now, save my day drinking for later,” You giggled a bit, like an idiot as he ordered. You nodded, scribbling on the pad absentmindedly as you went to fetch the water.

The moment you turned around, you hit the notepad on your face as you walked to the counter, “I’m such a dweeb, Ilhoon,” You stared at the drawing of a sloppy spiral on your notepad, “Can I get a water?”

The bartender, a man about 30 years old, chuckled, “That was a nice spectacle there,” He stated as he got the water, “This always happen when a guy like that comes in, or almost any person really, it’s amazing how you can’t talk to customers.”

“Fuck you,” You huffed, taking the water from him, placing it on a circular tray.“See? You stutter all innocently and like a submissive-oh, now I get it,” He smirked, “You like the domineering type, and they have you all-”

“Fuck you.”

Yoongi wanted to bang his head on the table, this was too sinfully good. He cursed his hearing as he heard the proceedings of your back and forth with the bartender. You were a submissive type, a kitten with sharp nails and a mean bite, and he found himself yearning to feel those claws on his back-

God, he needed to get laid. It’s evidently been too long.

He watched as you brought the water to him, placing it down with a slight tremor, “Let me try my little intro again,” You giggled, “Hi, welcome to The Rose Palace, my name is Y/n, and I will be your waitress today, how many are you expecting?” 

Yoongi’s lips quirked at your bright smile, “Six more guys, that alright babydoll?”

The nickname brought a heat to your cheeks that screamed you needed to get laid too, “Yeah, no problem, let me get the-”

“Menus? Already got them, sweetie,” Your skin pricked at the nauseatingly sultry voice of Dohye, “Wow, I’ve never had seven men at once,” She purred, “But I can take this if you-”

Yoongi’s eye twitched at the older woman trying to slide in his pants. He may have been depraved, but he certainly wasn’t that depraved.“I’m good, thanks,” The pure venom in your voice didn’t fall on deaf ears, but Yoongi’s, and he likes it.

“Oh come on, what’s your name, cutie?”  She winked and you internally puked.

“Uh, Yoongi,” He stated and he noticed as you tensed up, the name immediately recognized as the ever so famous leader of Bangtan.“No need to be shy-”

“You know what, you can have it,” You stated, and Yoongi snapped his head to look up at you, only to see you making eye contact with the rest of his party, Jungkook leading the pack.

Yoongi cursed, but refocused on the task at hand, and that was intimidation and forced compromise, not flirtation and consensual fornication, “No, I like my current waitress, thanks.” Dohye rolled her eyes at this and you felt your body freeze while she stalked off angrily.

“Y/n, baby!” Taehyung’s outburst made Yoongi’s eye twitch. Did he just fantasize about someone Taehyung fucked? Gross.

“Baby?” Your eyebrow quirked, and Yoongi internally sighed in relief, and as the guys settled in, your pretty smile was wiped from your face instantly, Hi, welcome to the-”

“Vodka,” Jungkook winked at you, and you simply nodded, actually writing words now that all these cute guys have been demystified.

“God, way to be rude, Kook,” A man, who seemed to be older, scolded.

“Wanna know what’s rude? Hitting fresh stitches,” Jungkook shot and you scoffed.“So is scratching someone with the suture needle,” You reciprocated.

“Oh, boss, we got another guest outside, shall I go fetch him?” Namjoon spoke up.Yoongi thought for a moment, “Take Hoseok and Jin, he can’t walk too well no?”

Namjoom nodded and Hoseok, who waved in a sheepish way, and Jin, the pretty man bowed politely as they left the table.

“No, no, she can’t see me,” The man outside begged Namjoon as he grabbed him, “I sold her out, she’ll kill me.”

“You’ll be dead if you don’t go in there,” Namjoon seethed in his ear, “Now let’s go, old man.”

“Ilhoon, get me a vodka and go, okay? Get everyone out, now,” He nodded, not bothering to ask questions as this kind of threat has presented itself many times before with mine and Eunhwa’s past, and he learned by now not to question you about yours. You were thankful Bangtan were currently the only customers, “Remember when my father came? This is even more dangerous.” He pressed a button that sent a light buzz to each waiter’s pager Eunhwa had us all carry for stuff like this, each buzz signaling who goes when.Watching your coworkers go one by one, Yoongi watching as well, you set the vodka down, slamming it down in front of Jungkook, “Anyone else?”

“Go ahead boys, I think we can get us a family discount, right, Byungjoo?” You stopped as you turned towards Namjoon, who was holding a bruised and blood-stained shit-stain of an uncle, and for the first time in years, you saw red.Byungjoo flinched, “Y-y/n, please I-”

“What is he shaking for? What’s she gonna do?” Hoseok scoffed, “I got her knocked out in two seconds.”

Yoongi shook his head at Hoseok as he observed your body language, and he knew you wanted blood, but would you go as far to kill a family member.“She won’t kill her own family,” Taehyung guffawed.

“Really?” You laughed humorlessly, “Uncle, how old was I when I first killed someone?”

“E-Eight,” He spoke and Yoongi noted the sureness in his statement

.“Who did I kill?” You asked, taking off the promotional button for the restaurant.

“M-Mina,” He was sobbing by now.

“She was my aunt,” You mused ripping the needle off the button. As soon as you did so, you made a running start for him.

“Honey, maybe you should let up a bit,” Byungjoo mused as you yelped from the feeling of his wife’s heel digging into your stomach, “Byungyeol will kill you if he notices.”

“What? Is our new little bug gonna tell on us?” She giggled, her face too beautiful for such an ugly woman.

For as far as you could remember, Mina served as your caretaker, not by choice. She often used you as a foot stool or put out cigarettes on your arms just for a laugh. She hated you, she hated your skin, she hated your smile, so she destroyed as much as she could, and she filled you with rage. Your father was catching on to what would happen when he was out, and he seldom showed you concern, but he caught sight of you weakening, so he handed you a tiny butterfly knife and nodded at you.

You didn’t understand what it meant until now.

“My darling, she hasn’t done-

“Exactly, she just sits there, like a fucking child!” She screamed at me.

“She is a child!” Byungjoo yelled back to her.Now Byungjoo couldn’t care less as to whether or not you lived or died, but encased in Mina’s room was you, her, lights off, TV on, and almost definitely a camera that Byungyeol could see through, and Byungjoo knew so.

“Children are too weak to liv-”

“So childish of you, Mina,” The cold voice of your father sent a shudder down her back and you took a deep breath as her heel retracted from your body.

“Yeolie, I-”

“Byungjoo, you will not move,” Your father stated, “Y/n, use the present I gave you, and Mina, let’s see if you are going to let a child get the better of you.”

“Th-This is ridiculous!” She stomped her foot down as I gathered the knife from my sock.

“So is hurting my heiress because you didn’t age well,” Your father chuckled.That’s why.She hurt you all because you were young like some fucking witch?

“Well?”  Mina inquired, “What a sad excuse of an heiress, I was eight when I killed my mother, and look at you, cowering there, shaking the sad excuse of a knife in your pathetic hand, do something, kill me, you little-”In that moment, you began to see red, and you dove at her, plunging the knife into as far up in her chest as you could reach, knocking her back into the armchair she was sitting in. Byungjoo sobbed as my father patted your head.

 Yoongi acted quickly, grabbing you by the waist after you landed on top of Byungjoo, sticking the pin in his shoulder to the hilt. Before you could do any more damage, you were hoisted off your uncle, landing a few good kicks into his shins before your breathing began to even.

“What the fuck was the point in bringing him here?!” You screamed, still trying to go at him as Namjoon chuckled, ripping the pin out of Byungjoo’s shoulder while your uncle yelped.

“We got big plans for your death anniversary, and we only need the missing family member for it. We were hoping your little reunion would wiggle out where he is,” Yoongi stated and you slowly began to laugh.

“You want my father?” You cackled, “Tell me when you see him.”

“You don’t know-” Jungkook began.

“No, fuck face, I don’t, he could be dead for all I care, and he feels the same about me.”  You stated, “I’m a mafia kid before I’m his, you fucking idiots.”

Yoongi stood, dumbfounded, and a little defeated. He didn’t factor in your own father not loving you since all signs pointed to that he did. Yoongi cursed himself for not factoring in such a possibility, a high one at that.

“I’m the little shit green girl, congrats, but I’m a dead end, now let go of me, because I’m going to kill him,” You seethed and Yoongi clicked his tongue.

“A dead end, huh?” He mused, “Fine, but we’ll be keeping you around.”

“Excuse me?” You turned your head to look the leader in the face.“

Congratulations, you’re hired as our new nurse-”

“Fuck off.”Yoongi smirked, putting his mouth next to your ear, “I can get you thrown in prison, green girl, plaster your whole face across the media, and trust me, you won’t like the prison under my control,” He whispered and he noticed you stiffen.

You nodded, not wanting to reunite with who was behind those bars, “I need to be paid, I can’t threaten this place’s safety,” You demanded and Yoongi conceded.

“Very well, wouldn’t want anymore shows, babydoll,” Yoongi taunted you, “Namjoon, take him back to home base, him and I got business,” 

You snarled at Byungjoo.“You’re dead if I see you,” You promised.

Byungjoo only managed a sob as he was roughly pushed out. “Jungkook, Jin, take her home,” Yoongi ordered and both men nodded, standing up, “I have to get back to the office,” You scoffed at the sound of him maintaining his facade. “See you around, nurse,” He snickered, letting you go as your head spun at what you had just agreed to do.

“I’m erasing myself from the narrative
Let future historians wonder how Eliza 
Reacted when you broke her heart
You have torn it all apart
I’m watching it burn”
-by Eliza from Hamilton

This song is so beautiful and so incredibly sad p3p I like Alexander, but everytime I hear this song, I begin to hate him for the following four minutes xD ma sweet sweet Eliza <’3

Victor + Hamilton
  • Victor (after meeting Yuuri at the Banquet): Boy, you got me helpless~ Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit, I'm helpless~ Down for the count and I'm drowning in 'em.
  • Victor (post-Chihokogate): let future historians wonder how Victor reacted when you broke his heaarrrrt. You have torn it all apart, I'm watching it buuuurrrrrn
Burn (John Laurens vers.)

I heard somewhere that some of Lauren’s letters to Hamilton are missing and (in theory) have possibly been burned due to his family thinking it was too saucy and the world must know none of it.

So I rewrote the song Burn in Laurens’ point of view.

This is nothing about the Reynolds’ Pamphlet.
It may be also historically inaccurate since this is based on a theory that fills in the gaps of the missing letters.

I’m not good at writing, but I wanted to give this a shot :“>

Here goes!

Keep reading

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endless list of Disney edits (5/?) [for @fantasticalnonsense18]

Beauty and the Beast & The French Revolution

Shortly after Belle & Adam’s wedding, the Reign of Terror begins in France. While the population of Villeneuve holds no grudges against their recently remembered Prince and newfound Princess, what with their generous and just leadership style, the revolutionaries in Paris have quite different views. To them, Adam & Belle represent everything that they hate and are no different than Louis XVI & Marie Antoinette.

In the dead of night, the revolutionaries storm the village and mount a mob using their ever-so-persuasive “if you’re not with us, then you’re against us!” strategy. Anyone who failed to aid in the plundering of the castle would be deemed sympathizers and lose their heads, as well - and that included those who were employed and lived there. 

When LeFou brings word to the castle of the impending attack, Adam and Cogsworth have varying opinions on what aught to be done. Adam, still attempting to make up for everything that he put his staff - his family - through, feels that they should flee. Cogsworth, ever the militant, feels they should stay and fight for what is theirs. But Adam isn’t about to put Belle’s life in danger. Not when merely being married to him had inevitably destined her for the chopping block.

Their window for escape is horribly limited - would they be able to flee to safety in time, or would they all watch everything that they loved burn on the way to the guillotine?