#I know I leave the old she/her I’ve been stuck with my whole life as an option bc it’s exhausting having to explain the agender thing

[yaminerua]

Seeing/hearing people use your correct pronouns is such a buzz;;; it’s such a lift;; gender euphoria beam straight to the heart;; I wish that feeling for everyone;;;

I wish everyone (especially those with pronouns people are Weird about) a very ✨💕People Using Your Pronouns Correctly💕✨

[lunajay33]

It’s You❤️‍🔥

Summary: You went along with Bella to Italy to save Edward, but when you get there things go unexpectedly and you become mate to the strongest Volturi guard

Pairing: Felix x human female reader

•Masterlist•

Moving into your uncles house a year ago to help him with daily chores and just keeping him company was a nice change from the hot dry weather I was use to when I lived with my mom before she passed, another reason Charlie had to take me in which I was incredibly grateful for, then a few months after I moved in my cousin Bella moved back from Arizona and she became very secretive, I swear some nights I’d hear two voices coming through our shared wall, whenever I tried to question her about it but she’d always brush me off just saying she was up late talking to her mom on the phone

Eventually I got fed up with all the secrets and the way she was treating me like I wasn’t even in her life, so on a rare sunny day I decided to go over to the cullens house, basically Bella’s second home, I pulled up into the drive way amazed by how gorgeous this house was, sure Carlisle was a doctor but this had to be old money to get a house like this around this area

I got out of my old car and knocked three times against the door, after a while and a few faint angry whispers Bella finally opened the door which I find odd since this isn’t her house

“Y/n what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here”

“I’ve had enough of the secrets and how you’ve treated me, we’re family Bella and I’m alone here I just want to be close again like we were as kids”

“Well we’re not kids anymore y/n I have my own life” she said a hint of anger laced with worry in her voice

“I’m not asking for your attention 24/7 I just want a friend” I said upset as I fiddled with my fingers

“Okay im sorry im just stressed, ill make a better effort”

And after that we spent a bit more time together, then Edward left, him and his whole family just up and left leaving Bella in a deep despair, her sorrowful shrieking screams at night draining me and Charlie, and the worst was I didn’t know how to help, I tried getting her out of the house or even just sitting in the living room with her to keep her company but I could still see how broken she was

After months and her seeing Jacob she slowly started to get better, one night I was up in my room reading when a commotion broke out downstairs, I ran down seeing Bella, Jake and Alice arguing in the kitchen

“What the hell is going on?” But before anyone answered Alice spoke

“Bella it’s Edward, Rosalie told him why I came, he thinks he’s dead, he wants to die too” everything was moving so fast, Bella and Alice were running out to her car and I was still in the dark with everything

“Bella what’s going on you’re scaring me” I said looking through the car window

“I can’t explain I have to go”

“Well you’re not going without me, I’ve stuck with you through this and I’m not leaving now” I said matter of factly hopping in the back, Alice gave Bella a wary look before she speed off to the airport, having no clue where we were going until we landed, when Alice finally told me we were in Italy, the scenery zooming past as she drove through town after town until we came upon a old castle town, swerving through a crowd all dressed in robes, Bella went running off and Alice found somewhere to park as we too started making our way through the crowd on foot now

“Alice you still haven’t told me what’s going on” she gave me a gentle smile as we came upon the castle

“You’ll find out soon enough, all I can say is that your life is about to change” her words sent nervous butterflies fluttering in my belly

With what must have been a surge of adrenaline Alice broke the lock on the castle door and we entered feeling the cold air breeze over me, cooling me down from the hot Italian heat

Seeing Edward with Bella and he looked dreadful and just behind them a shorter blonde man with piercing ruby red eyes, accompanied by a very tall man and as my eyes gazed over his body from his feet all the way up to his eyes my world stopped, I felt this pull to him like I’ve never felt before, a man I don’t know had this hold on me that I never wanted to get out of, our eyes never looking away from eachother until a smaller girl broke our trance

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long”

“I won’t be needing your assistance anymore”

“Never the less aro would like a word”

Alice squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as we all followed the blonde girl into a now crammed elevator, with the lack of space my back was pressed up against the tall beautiful man with the ruby eyes

As my adrenaline finally faded away I was left with the realization that I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, Alice’s super strength, the ruby eyes of the strangers around me, the secrecy , it was finally scaring me feeling my heart beat so hard I could hear it and if on air a big hand gently rubbed up and down my back slowly settling my nerves, normally having a strange man touch me would have me running for the hills but there was just something about this ethereal man that I don’t even know the name of, that soothed my soul, like nothing bad could ever happen as long as I’m by his side

The elevator stopped with a ding, opening to reveal a long stone hallway with torches perched on the walls, giving a very eerie vibe to the whole situation, his hand still on my lower back leading me in the direction everyone else was walking til we got to these big doors that his touch went away making me whine for some reason

The little blonde girl pushed open the huge doors effortlessly to show a gorgeous marble room with three thrones with three men sat upon them

“Sister they send you out for two and you come back with two and a two half’s” a younger guy said as the blonde girl went and stood by his side

“Ahhhh Bella is alive fantastic” on of the three men stated standing infront of us

“And who is this?” He said glancing at me with those similar ruby eyes

“It seems one of our family has found their mate” the other glum man said

“What? Mate? What do you mean? Please just someone tell me what is happening” I asked overwhelmed as my bottom lip wobbled

“Oh dear…..may I?” The enthusiastic man asked as he held out his hand

Confused but I placed mine in his as he stared deep into my eyes

“It seems this beautiful girl doesn’t know a thing about us, she merely came to support her cousin”

“Felix how about you take her to your room and explain everything as we deal with this situation here”

“Yes master” his hand was on my back again as he led me out of the room back into the hallway

“Felix…..I like that name” his name sounded nice, sounded right, he looked down at me with the most loving look I could have ever seen

“And what might your name be mio amore?”

“Y/n…I’m y/n”

“Beautiful, a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl” I’ve never been treated like this before and it had my heart soaring

Finally we made it to a wonderful spacious room, the ceiling high, brown stone walls with red and black accent decor, with a glamorous bed in the corner with red silk sheets

“Sit my darling” he said gesturing to the bed so we sat face to face, he gently took my hands in his like I was made of glass

“What did he mean? Am I your mate? And what does that mean?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out but……we are vampires and so are the cullens, vampires have mates and some of us are lucky enough to find them, we’d do anything for our mates like I’ll do anything for you, to make you happy and safe”

His words had me frozen……vampires were real? And I’m mated to one, a gorgeous one at that but still this was all so much

“This…..this is a lot to handle Felix, I mean this is all so new to me I’ve never had a relationship before and definitely not with a vampire, sure you’re extremely handsome but I still don’t know what to do” his smile softened then slowly turned into a smirk

“You think I’m handsome little one?” He asked tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making the blood rush to my cheeks

“Of course anyone with eyes can see that”

“You never have to be worried with me, we can take this slowly, I’ve waited forever for you amore, I can wait a little longer until you’re comfortable” his hand caressing my cheek

I felt more relaxed at his words

“So what now? Do I have to go back to forks? If I do we will never see eachother” my heart clenched at the thought

“If your heart desires you can stay here, but only if that’s what you want, because I know my heart couldn’t handle us being apart, but it’s whatever you want tessoro”

“I……I want to be with you Felix, please”

“Then you will stay with my little one” I had the answer to Alice’s words, my life was going to change but all for the better

Comment if you wanna be tagged in this series❤️

Part.2

[pancake-flipper]

𝐁𝐚𝐭-𝐀𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 Intro

Platonic! Batfam x reader ❤

Info: An introduction into what I hope becomes a series. Bat-Aunt, and her adventures with the Batfamily. This is one of the darker this I’ll write for this, the rest should just be more WFA vibes.

Warnings: parental death, blood, I think that’s it.

(not my art)

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was born into a life of luxury and comfort, with an older brother, loving parents, and the world best butler.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was only six when her whole world got flipped upside down in the alleyway behind the movie theater. Who huddled up in her brothers arms--a boy only eight years old himself--for hours before anyone came for them, just staring down at the pooling blood of her parents and the scattered pearls of her mothers necklace.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who slept in Bruce’s room for weeks following that night. Something Bruce didn’t mind in the slightest, because it meant that he could keep an eye on what little he felt he had left.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who only ever talked to Bruce in public for years, but learned to laugh and joke freely again within a year of the incident--perhaps it was because she was so young--, often found rambling to Alfred as he prepared dinner.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who doesn't remember much about life before the inccident, other than the fact that things were happier, that her and Bruce were thick as thieves, and there was much less to worry about.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who can no longer remember the sound of her mothers laugh, or the feeling of her fathers hand ingulfing her smaller one, and who honestly would have forgotten what her parents look like all together if it weren’t for the old photos of them littered around the manor.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was the first to protest when Bruce decided to become the Dark Night. Who refused to talk to him for days, mumbling about how “Gotham wasn’t worth it.” or “im not losing anyone else to this crap."

Bat-Aunt reader! Who finally excepted it after a while, knowing Bruce is far to stubborn to change his mind, but will never approve.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who’s entire world flips back around when Bruce brings Dick home for the first time, immediately finding a new purpose for living other than other than helping to run Wayne Enterprises and taking care of her stupid brother.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who reads in the news that Batman has a new sidekick, and has a level nine crash-out when she quickly connects the dots that Bruce has been taking Dick out as Robin.

Cue the yelling as Dick sits in the corner with Alfred watching.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who loves ever kid that Bruce brings home instantly, but was hesitant with Tim because of what happened to Jason.

Bat-Aunt reader! Whos not a vigilante, but would totally go out and crack some skulls, should the boys ever be in trouble.

It’s giving a mom whos baby is stuck under a car or something, and they pull out the strength of a hundred men and yeat the car into another dimension.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who doesn’t like Gotham. In fact, she hates it, but shes could never leave, not when her family was so dead set on dying for this place.

A/N: Feel free to Reblog if you want. I hope to make another thing for this, but ngl I’ve been on Tumblr for like 6 months and your girl is still trying to figure some stuff out.

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.4 3.9K

Here's chapter four of the @shinyshayminflower prompt story!

I hope you like it! Love you lots and lots, you can find the other parts on this account or on AO3.

Angst and Feels, no smut for this chapter.

Not again? You were going to throw up. You knew she didn’t love you, but you were foolishly surprised she had fucked Mel’s friends before. 

“Why?” Mel’s tipsy voice was hoarse, eyes shining as she looked between you, “Why couldn’t I have one thing that was mine”

You wanted the ground to swallow you, you wanted to kill Ambessa, you wanted to word vomit apologies and explanations. Your tongue was lead in your mouth. 

“Mel,” Ambessa’s tone was neutral.

“And it had to be her,” Mel whimpered, “because who other than the only best friend I’ve ever had? Only the best for Ambessa Medarda,” 

“I’m so sorry, it’s my fault too,” It ripped from you, suddenly spurred into action,”God, I-I, Mel I love you,” 

Her eyes darkened, a stuttered breath, “And that’s why you stuck your tongue down her throat, is it?”

“No, no,” Your whole world was falling apart, “I didn’t want this to happen, you’re my best friend,” 

Her bitter laugh killed you. You stood there, slaughtered, as the two Medardas began to argue in hushed tones. As quickly as her fight had ignited, it had died a distraught death. Alcohol and anger merging to create a half person. You barely caught what was said, though Mel’s muffled sobs were obvious, as was Ambessa’s motherly tone. 

It felt like a joke, some bad sitcom. Your lips were still warm, smudged crimson. 

She had moved off of you, swaying towards her daughter as if to calm her. Hushed whispers swirled around you. You lent, shivering and destroyed, against the fridge as they held one another. Their relationship would survive, of course it would, they were mother and daughter. They had a place for one another in their hearts. 

Where did that leave you then? Chopped liver, used and discarded at a moment’s notice. It was clear that this was not going to be discussed properly tonight, so you were an unnecessary detail they had shelved for later. Water sloshed about in your vision, sharp feedback ringing in your ears. 

Icy hands wiped pathetically at stray tears as you gulped, walking around the kitchen island with a slur from your lips about leaving them to it. You had the good sense to pat an incoming Rictus on the shoulder. 

“Lock the kitchen door,” It was hurried, “Mel and Ambessa are having a bit of a moment,” 

“And you?” His quiet tone made you gulp. 

“I am going to bed, tell Kino I drank too much and started throwing up so you helped me to bed,” 

“Yes Miss,” He’d never called you Miss before.

Unsteady, foal legs propelled you up the stairs as you sucked in small, stifled gasps for air. The sight of your room dropped you into the abyss, vision blurring as everything dialed to a thousand. This was it. You were so beyond fucked. It took black spots dancing around your eyes for you to remember to breathe, nails cutting your palms as you rocked back and forth on the plush carpet. 

Her face, shattered and pleading, was burned against your eyes like an old TV screen. Permanently fixed, the colours faded and warped. She had been so quick to hate her mother, her fury for you burning slow and low as it waited in the wings. You were no fool, a cat fight and some wine was not going to solve this. She had chosen you, allowed you into all areas of her life, and you had obliterated that trust, whether it had been your intention or not. She would never know how much you cherished her for now each word would be laced with guilt, rendered insincere upon arrival with little more than a cursory glance. 

Then, bitterly, your heart remembered Ambessa. You had never been special, had never been anything and you hadn’t even been the first. Mel had trusted you despite her mother’s history, because it was you and you were her best friend. You deserved every bad thing, grunting as your palms crushed your streaming eyes in an attempt to staunch the flow. None of this had gone to plan. You couldn’t understand why she’d kissed you in the first place, the memory of her kind eyes like a hot poker to the heart. You’d ended it, later than you should have, but you’d done the right fucking thing. 

Stripping naked, you crawled under the spray of icy water. It dulled you, skin becoming numb to the shower’s harsh droplets. Your cries were silent, measured, as if afraid to take up too much space. Golden glitter rotted away to reveal the monster underneath. You stayed like that for longer than was healthy, delirious limbs pulling you out as you drifted in and out. Cosy, fluffy pyjamas warmed you through as you sat, silent and empty on the bed staring at your laptop screen. 

Ever practical, you had shoved it all down in favour of a plan. First of all, you needed new student accommodation. There was no way Mel would want you living with her now and you needed to get ahead of that curve. You were sitting in a Manor house, scrolling through spare room listings like a zombie. It was three days till Christmas. You wanted to disappear. 

At some point you passed out, body slumped and shattered. 

Flecks of sunlight woke you, throat dry and face stinging. On autopilot you got ready for the day, and then just kept going. All your things were neatly folded, stuffed into a tired suitcase and sealed away. You would give Mel whatever conversation she needed and then you would leave, because it was what was necessary. 

Mel had sent you one text. Seeing her name made you dizzy. 

Breakfast Table, 10am. 

                                      Be right down. 

The house was empty save the three of you, you would learn. Rictus had dragged a hungover Kino out to facilitate this chat. You arrived in the kitchen to Mel and Ambessa sitting quietly side by side with mugs, one for you placed on the opposite side. 

A united front, two against one. Fantastic. How the fuck was that fair? What happened to how could she? 

“Morning,” You hated how unsteady your voice sounded, sitting primly in the wooden chair. 

“Sleep okay?” Mel asked, eyes unsure. 

You would have rathered if she called you a Cunt. Pleasantries had no place here. “FIne,” 

“Shall we start then?” Ambessa said, gaze focused on her daughter. 

Like it was a business meeting, and you? Their troublesome employee. 

It started rather structured, Mel had access to more facts than you’d anticipated. You were clearly not important enough to be there at the start of this conversation then. She knew when it started, when it stopped and when it started again. She was pragmatic and clearly emotionally dissociated, the events of the past twelve hours wrecking you all. You fought back a bit there, there was no restarting. 

“She kissed me,” You grumbled, barely able to look at her. 

“You kissed back, quite hard” It would have been teasing, your mind wished it was. 

“Mum,” Mel’s voice was clear, her look piercing. It was hard to gauge the dynamic here, they were on the same side but Ambessa faced far more aggression than you did. Repeat offender problems, perhaps.

“Neither of you cared about how this would make me feel,” It was the same tone from the night before, cutting harshly from a sober mouth.

“I did,” You cried, hands beginning to tremble again, “I do,” 

“If you did, you would have told me months ago,” Mel snapped.

“I know,” your gaze was distant, trapped in memories, “I made the wrong choices and have no excuse for them,” 

“We’ve both made mistakes Mel,” Ambessa’s tone was honey, “We love you, we want to know how to move past them,” 

Her use of ‘we’ made you twitch. As always, she had no problem speaking for you. Still, it seemed she was searching to heal your relationship with Mel as well as her own. Your heart glowed, you shoved it in a safe. 

“You can move past them by keeping your hands to yourself, Mum,” She snapped. In another, better timeline you would have giggled. 

Ambessa simply leaned back, taking a swig. 

“I just want to know why she did it,” Mel muttered, more lost than you’d ever seen her as she turned to you, “Mum I get, she’s done it before, but why did you?”

It was the worst question to ask, because you’d realised somewhere in those wallowing autumn nights that the love had bloomed even before she bent you over that island. Your motivator had always been love and that felt more pathetic than anything. It was the first time you looked to Ambessa on purpose, eyes panicked, yearning for even a dust speck of the comfort she was giving Mel. To your ultimate surprise you found it, crinkled eyes steady and holding you up just for a second before they looked away. That was the final nail in the coffin. 

Mel saw it before you even attempted words. You subconsciously braced for screams or laughter, but were met with a pained gasp. 

“Oh no,” Mel’s voice was soft, pitying “You didn’t,”

“Spare me,” It was a scoff, the cry of a wounded animal, “I know how stupid I am, kay?”

“Mum, go check on Mina,” Mel’s voice was dismissive, practically shoving a protesting Ambessa away. 

Ambessa left begrudgingly and the scales shifted, evening out. 

She didn’t speak for a long time, her face fixed in contemplation. It was the same face that crafted winning debates, negotiated designer deals and commanded attention of your student house chore chart. Each moment dragged, your eyes unsure where to stay as you grappled with your life. Was she going to tear you to shreds? Dismissing Ambessa so there were no witnesses to your murder? Or worse, was she going to outright admit that she despised you. 

“You fell in love,” It’s said in a hushed whisper, like gossip shared in a lecture hall. 

Your lip wobbled, the tsunami threatening to make itself known, as the plainness of the truth was said by the one person you’d wanted to tell. “Yeah, yeah I did,” 

She was on you in an instant, warm arms pulling you against her as you froze in place. 

“That was fucking dumb,” She huffed, her own voice watery, “Even dumber that you did it alone,” 

You gurgled in tears, laughter forced out as you looked at her incredulously. She was actually comforting you, as if this was normal. She was better than either you or Ambessa deserved and as she rocked you, you waited for the other shoe to smack you in the face.

“I hate you right now,” 

“Makes sense,” You sniffed, wanting to block the sound of those words out forever. 

“But right now doesn’t mean forever,” She huffs, trembling fingers taking your own, “Just need time to be furious, time to grieve I suppose,”

“I’ll give you whatever you need,” It was a babble now, “I’ll move out obviously and I c-can head home, you deserve a nice Christmas,” 

She looked at you like you’d grown a head, “No babe, none of that will be happening actually,”

“But,” 

“You have hurt me in an indescribable way,” Her voice was firm now, as if she were adult and you were child, “But I have decided I want you in my life despite that, and you are going to respect that even if you don’t understand it,” 

“I really, really don’t,” You squeaked, “But I’ll try, I want to earn your trust Mel, more than anything,”

“That’s good, because it’s Carol Concert Day and I would hate to sit next to Kino instead, he’s always so fidgety,” 

Fuck. Kino. Your face must have betrayed your panic. 

“Mum and I decided we won’t tell him, this,” She gestured between you and the space her mother had occupied, “died last night and therefore is irrelevant,” 

“Okay, whatever you want,” 

“It might also help things if you have a chat with Mum, actually talk about whatever’s happened,” 

“Easier said than done,” Your stomach twisted, “It’s a mess,”

“Try for me?”

Manipulative posh brat. You loved her. You’d do anything she asked, “FIne,” 

“I’m sorry you love her,” Mel said, gaze settling somewhat “It’s a shitty place to be,” 

You gave her the space she requested, finding the Matriarch supreme with Mina who was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“An olive branch?” You were actually holding out an olive flavoured breadstick, a hastily grabbed prop. You were staring down the barrel of a gun, unsure if it was loaded. Involuntary, awful Russian Roulette. 

She took it with a raised brow, offering you the chair you were already lowering yourself into, “How was that?”

Your rattling chest finally took in a full breath, “She wants to be my friend,” 

“You sound surprised,” 

“I am,” a cough, “and grateful and surprised I still have a head,”

“I was thinking much the same,” Mina crunched the end of the breadstick slyly, “Right, unacceptable,” she was flung off and it was as funny as always. God, you wished she was more awful somehow, make it easier. 

“And you? Seemed I missed a lot of the conversation,” 

Ambessa hummed, “I saw no point in lying to her, and this was regrettably a familiar conversation for us, it was better she learnt it from me, I am easier to be furious with,”

It felt stupidly chivalrous, like she’d done the heavy lifting so you could reap the rewards. Your assessment of how things would pan out had been so wrong you were half certain you were still in that room, looking through house listings. 

“Feels good to get it out?” You didn’t care about her answer, though you found you couldn’t not ask.

“Oh yes,” A snort, “It feels brilliant to be utterly degraded by your own child,” 

“You deserve it,” 

“I know,” Her tongue clicked, body tired.

“She wants us to patch it up,”

“Patch what up, the casual sex or the emotional turmoil?” 

“Don’t mock me,” Anger flared, dark and red. 

“I’m not,” A weathered sigh, “I respect my daughter enough to take this seriously, Darling,”

It was the worst thing she could have said. There was no respect for you, yet again. No desire to actually hear you, just a wish to please Mel. You were a middleman now to her, your feelings important if they impacted her child. 

“Well, we had a fun summer fling,” You were distant now, “It ended poorly for me, as usual for you I take it?”

She at least had the decency to wince at that, an almost disbelieving nod. 

“You tried to reignite something, I refused and then, like a fucking demon, you kissed me anyway,” 

“You kissed me back,” 

“So you said,” 

“Pushed me away too, well done,” 

“It was a test?” You wouldn’t have been shocked if she nodded. 

“That’s dramatic, even for me,” She licked her lips, “It was a lapse in judgement,” 

“Have a lot of those, do you?”

“Around you, yes,” It was lighthearted, eyes tempting as ever. This was not what patching it up meant, your tell tale heart shining through the safe’s cracks. 

“I think I hate you,” It was gentle, confused. 

“I have that effect on people, Sweet Girl,” 

You made an agreement to actually stick to the odd friendship you’d gained. Your priority was Mel. Her priority was Mel. A common goal that pushed you through the sticky residue of the remaining tension. 

Pushed you through that is. Ambessa Medarda, eyes fixed on your tentative smile, was firmly on the other side pondering something awful. She knew you were a problem. 

Kino returned, shaky and none the wiser, stumbling into the library. 

“There you are, Princess,” He called happily, “Glad to see you’re still alive after last night,”

Oh Kino. You don’t know the half of it, you idiot. “Thank Rictus, he held my hair back,” 

“He just took me on a boys breakfast,”

“A what?” You bit your cheek, your eyes meeting Ambessa’s bemused ones.

“I dunno,” He scratched his head, “Said he’d missed me, was really nice actually,”

You were nodding to compensate for the laughing rushing in you, she was doing the same.

“Fantastic!” You said in unison, as he pulled up a chair and crushed any remnants of your conversation. 

The rest of the day was smooth, surreal in its normalness. You were giving Mel space, but that wasn’t all that different to how you normally wandered about the place. The few presents you had managed to buy, now unpacked from your destroyed exit strategy, were placed under the tree and you got through a couple of hours of work before it was time to leave. 

Mel curled into you on the train, eyes fixed on the outside world rushing past though her thumb did its usual rhythmic strokes. The barriers your actions had placed sliced at you, bit by bit. Still she reached through them, cutting herself too, in an attempt to mend what you had broken. 

The Royal Albert Hall was picturesque, Christmas cheer infectious as you sat in your box. The view was unparalleled and yet they didn’t seem to fussed, messing about with the food and drink on offer. Fucking rich people. A little plate was handed to you by Ambessa, all your favourites plus things she thought you’d like to try. You nodded. It was actually normal, well your new normal. It made Mel smile, proof that you’d done as she asked. 

Carols in a place such as this were transcendent, wrapping you in comfort and applying balm to your battered mind. Kino and Mel were insistent on irritating each other, flicking at hair and chattering at each other before Ambessa smacked them both on the arm. You received a smile. You were the golden child, enjoying the music calmly whilst the others squibbled. 

Ambessa couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. You were much more interesting to watch. The music was known to her, but your reaction to it was a strange new delight. Stolen smiles she would hide behind sips of wine and hesitant coughs. She did respect Mel, loved her in a way that she had long since grappled with as all consuming, and yet she just could not look away. It made her stomach churn, each meeting of your gazes a zap of electricity to her chest. She was privileged to receive some of your quips, a calmness settled over you in the aftermath of destruction and you had taken to the changes like a duck to water. She didn’t know whether to be awed or worried, so she settled for the pulsing, confusing beat in the middle. 

You and Mel spoke quietly on the train home, some fibres knitting back together as Kino attempted to argue with his mother about why Die Hard was a Christmas film. She was showing you some furniture she wanted to buy for your house and it was domestic and safe and only slightly off. You hated the armchair and you knew that she knew that. 

“Looks great,” You lied meekly, “Love the colours,” 

“Thought you would,” She smirked, “I’ll order it now then, and the matching blanket,” 

“Awesome,” 

She started to laugh,”Are you just my bitch now?”

“I can cope with an ugly chair,”

“And cope you shall,” She showed you the delivery confirmation, phone pushed forward proudly. 

Bugger. You’d hoped she was bluffing to fuck with you. Your slow grimace made her laughter louder, and you flicked her with the lid of your Diet Coke bottle. 

Christmas Eve had arrived. 

It was a day filled with energy, board games and gingerbread houses. You learnt you were shit at biscuit engineering, unable to keep two walls standing let alone a whole house. Rictus had rescued you, the Medardas too caught in their own projects. With a steady hand he assembled the gingerbread flat pack and laid the piping foundations for your chocolate buttons and sprinkles. Yours looking shit would have been funny, if it weren’t for the masterpieces before you. 

Ambessa felt that odd buzz again, eyes raking over your shaky hands as you tried to pipe icing, or reposition walls. You seemed to naturally excel at everything she had seen, so watching you fail was almost cute. Your frustration took over your face, eyebrows scrunched with an open, wincing mouth. 

“Now, what the hell?” 

Kino snorted, adding the final touches to his stained glass windows, “I don’t think art is your calling, Princess,” 

“Or architecture,” Ambessa added with a smile.

“I think it’s good babe,” Mel said, squeezing your shoulder, “In the same way a five year old’s would be I guess,” 

“Rictus?” You said hopefully. 

“You can’t ask for my opinion, I did most of it,” He snorted, fixing a window pane across the room. 

Your gingerbread house was sacrificed to be eaten, the others deemed too sacred. It did at least taste good, Kino had said. You’d then bitten him on the arm, suggesting it would be a miracle if he tasted better than he looked. You were separated, Mina placed between you like a barrier. 

As the hours grew later, you drank your tea and prepared for bed. You were promptly stopped at the stairs. 

“We haven’t prepared for Christmas, into the living room,” Ambessa gripped your arm, pushing you into the space. 

Mel and Kino stood, wide smiles on their faces, organising a little plate. 

It had mince pies, a cookie and a glass of milk on it. 

“What are you doing?” It slipped out incredulously. 

“If we don’t do this, Mum doesn’t give us our presents,” Mel said.

“I don’t give you anything, Children,” Ambessa said, outraged, “That’s his job,” 

“Where’s the thimble of port?”

Kino placed down a large wine glass, rolling his eyes, “Father Christmas prefers a full glass apparently,” 

“Yes he does,” Ambessa smirked, before turning to you, “And can pop down the reindeer’s carrots,”

You looked at her, disbelieving eyes boring into her gleaming irises, “Why would they need carrots? I’m sure they’ve had enough already,”

Her eyes darkened, “They have a long evening ahead of them, do you want them to get exhausted halfway through? What if every house thought as ridiculously as you? What if they’re running on empty?”

You barked a shocked laugh. Of all people, Ambessa Medarda was not someone you anticipated continuing this tradition into her children’s adulthood. Grabbing some carrots, you left them next to Mel’s plate. 

“Happy?” You gestured grandly. 

“I’m sure Rudolph will be overjoyed, Dear,” She walked over kissing you each on the forehead, with a tenderness that startled you, “Now, off to bed little wolves or he shall leave you with an empty tree,” 

The tree already had presents underneath it, placed by the three of you. You hadn’t consciously clocked the lack of hers. 

You felt fuzzy, overwhelmed by Christmas and the first tendrils of contentment that had been unburdened by your lies. A long road lay ahead, but if Mel’s conspiratory giggle as she grabbed the open port bottle and tugged you to her room was anything to go by, you were going to make it out the other side. 

“Hey,” Mel said, passing the port back to you to finish, “What’s the time?”

You grabbed your phone, arms wobbly with intoxication. 

12:02am

“Merry Christmas!”

[riamaple]

Life on Your Line (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Cursed to sacrifice your life to save another, you were never able to connect with others, always meant to drift before you could belong. Death was all you knew. Then, one day in Brooklyn, you saved a young man, and for some reason, you kept seeing him again. And again. And again. No matter where you went, across decades, you always found your way back to him.

He was forced to live to destroy, you were forced to die to save—bound together in ways neither of you could understand.

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending). Death and Dying. Self-Sacrifice (Immortality / Resurrection). Canon-Typical Violence / Description of Wounds. Suicidal Thoughts. Implications and References to Child Death, Suicide, Self-Destructive Behavior / Self-Harm.

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Word Count: 4.3k

CHAPTER 2: March 1944 - March 1945

March 15, 1944. 6:23 PM

Minnie passed away a few nights ago. That old hag finally did it. She’s with Lewis now, resting while the rest of us are left to wonder if this war will ever end.

We had the funeral two days ago. It was small and quiet, just like how she would’ve wanted it. Everyone was crying, myself included. My best friend is gone and I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her.

I didn’t write about any of this until now because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I was sad, but mostly angry. I’m so happy for Minnie, but I can’t help but feel jealous of her. We were both supposed to grow old together, but now she’s in the ground while I’m still stuck out here. Every day, I check to see if I have a strand of gray hair and of course, I don’t.

I did get a pleasant surprise. Becca stopped by with a whole box of pastries that her mother had made for me and Laura. It was very sweet of them to do that. They even made me some eclairs, my absolute favorite. Laura hasn't been working this week — she’s grieving over Minnie while wondering if her son will survive the war — so I promised Becca I’d bring some of the sweets to her.

This young lady has become an avid reader and she’s always asking me for book recommendations. It was slow at first, with her coming back a few months after she got her first book. She didn’t say, but I think it took a while because she was still upset about her brother leaving for Europe. But since she’s come back, she’s stopped by once a month. I don’t do it for anyone else, but I also started to let her borrow the books. As long as she brings them back in perfect condition, she doesn’t have to pay for them. Who am I to stop a young lady from reading?

I finally did ask Becca about her brother. Turns out his name is James, though everyone — even the papers — calls him Bucky. Becca calls him Jimmy, which I think is sweet. She said it’s been a bit since they’ve heard from him, but he’s now a part of the Howling Commandos with Captain America, fighting proudly for our freedom.

I was also shocked to find out that Captain America was the blonde boy with the balloon from all those years ago. That skinny, tiny kid is now America’s hero and the boy I saved is part of his unit. Funny how the world works.

You stopped writing for a moment.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I think about James more than I want to. I’ve been living with this curse for many decades, yet he’s the only person whom I’ve saved who recognized me. I’ve done a pretty decent job of avoiding people from my past, but the very few I’ve met never seemed to recognize me. They’ve all looked at me strangely, of course, but never said anything about it in the end. Why would they? They all believed I had died.

But James… He’s the only one who saw me for me. Who looked at my face and knew that I was the one who saved him. He still is the only one.

It pained me to lie to him.

I barely know him, but…maybe, if I’m brave enough one day, I could tell him the truth. I’d love to sit down with him and chat over a cup of coffee. Give him the decency and say that, yes, I did save you all those years ago. You were right. It was me.

The bell jiggled, taking your attention away from your journal to the front door. You smiled at a woman who walked in, somewhere in her forties with brown hair, looking around the cozy interior of Riverside Bookshop.

You smiled at her warmly. “Hello. Welcome to Riverside. My name is Doris,” you said, motioning toward the shelves behind you. “We’re about to close soon, but let me know if you need anything.”

The woman smiled back, her eyes scanning the shelves as she wandered through the aisles. It wasn’t unusual for customers to stop by just before closing, searching for one last book to take home. You had done the same when you were younger—well, younger.

After a few moments, the woman pulled a book from one of the lower shelves. It was an old one, but also the kind that had been loved and read over the years. Its edges frayed and the cover was fading, but the woman still carried it to the front desk with a soft smile.

“That’s a lovely choice,” you commented. “One of my personal favorites. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

She chuckled, and you could tell by her eyes that she was excited to dive into it. She paid for the book, thanking you again as you handed her the change.

“Have a good evening,” you called after her, stepping back behind the counter to finish closing up for the night.

It was too late to go to Henry’s and store your journal there. For just this night, you allowed yourself to believe the store wouldn’t somehow catch on fire and burn your writing, so you tucked your journal into one of the drawers. You dimmed the lights, turned the sign on the door to ‘Closed,’ adjusted your bag and exited.

You locked the front door just as a sharp scream echoed through the night air, pulling your attention to the empty streets.

Something tugged at your heart.

You ran as fast as you could down the street until you reached a dark alley, where you saw her—the woman who just bought a book—struggling against a man who had her by the throat.

He had a knife in the other hand.

Decades ago, you would’ve hesitated—run away even—but now you were already right next to them, swinging your bag at the man. Too distracted by the woman, he stumbled back as you hit him on the head. He faltered briefly, but then lunged at you with his knife. You quickly moved to your right, letting him fall against the wall while you grabbed the woman’s hand and bolted back into the street.

Once you were further down the street, you slowed down while the woman gasped for air. You looked behind to see if the man was following, and sighed deeply when you saw that he wasn’t.

“My goodness,” the woman said, rubbing at her throat as she looked at you. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

You forced out a smile, making sure to keep your left side hidden from her view. “You’re welcome. You should head home now—before it gets too dark,” you said quietly, stepping back.

She nodded, still breathing heavily, and quickly stepped away. But the moment she began to leave, you immediately pressed your hand against your side and walked the other way. The ground beneath you seemed to sway, but you kept moving, one step at a time. The pain in your side grew unbearable, but you pushed forward.

You found a quiet alley quickly, away from the streetlights, and collapsed against the wall. Gasping, you hid behind a couple of crates as you raised your hand, examining the blood staining your fingers. You closed your eyes, letting the cool night air wash over you. The sounds of the city faded, and the sharp pain in your side became all-consuming.

You let yourself release one last breath, wondering if you needed to find a new name.

<><><>

You opened your eyes to the biting cold, immediately feeling a familiar ache in your side. You blinked awake, grimacing at the uneven, almost rocky surface you were lying on. You murmured a curse at the world underneath your breath; it wasn’t the first time you woke up in an uncomfortable place. But as you slowly took in the sky and leaves looming over you, the faint scent of pine trees mixed with the damp earth invaded your nose, and you gulped.

You immediately sat up, breathing raggedly while looking around to see that the rugged peaks of unfamiliar mountains surrounded you. This wasn’t your home. This wasn’t Brooklyn. Where the hell were you—

A deafening explosion shattered the silence, causing you to scream and scramble to your feet. You spun around to find cover, choosing to duck behind a large boulder while your breaths came in frantically. There were a few more explosions, followed by gunshots and yelling, and you couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

You had died nearly a hundred times—letting yourself get stabbed, shot, trampled for the sake of others, only to wake up a month later in your home. You were no longer afraid of death, but this was different. You had never woken up anywhere else but your home, where the familiar smell of old wood and novels greeted you. But here, only the freezing wind and echoes of explosions seemed to shake the ground under your feet.

You trembled as the gunshots came closer—you had no idea what you were supposed to do. There was no place to hide, no familiar faces, no quiet corner to retreat to. You peered cautiously over the edge of the boulder, trying to make sense of your surroundings. But then, your breath caught in your throat as you spotted a young man running in the distance.

Your heart jumped at the sight of James, his face streaked with dirt and his uniform torn in places. He heaved with a pained expression as he dove behind another boulder.

Why was he here? 

No. Why were you there with him?

James’s hands trembled as he reloaded his rifle, his eyes scanning the distance through the scope. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cold, and every muscle in his body screamed at him to rest, though he didn’t have a second to spare. He tried to keep his breath even, but his lungs burned as he tried to spot the enemy.

He had been hiding before, silently taking down any HYDRA soldier who got too close to Steve or the rest of the Howling Commandos. He tried to be careful, but then one of the soldiers caught a glint of metal from his rifle and threw a grenade at him. James barely managed to brace himself behind cover before the explosion went off, and he was forced to run. He had no idea where his combat unit was—it was just him and a bunch of HYDRA operatives in the mountains. And as much as he was a skilled sharpshooter who had killed most of them by this point, he was getting close to his limits.

James squinted, peering through the scope once more. A soldier emerged from behind a pile of rocks and he didn’t hesitate. The shot rang out and the HYDRA soldier dropped to the ground. Quickly reloading his rifle, he tried to spot the last two soldiers before they could catch him off guard.

When he couldn’t see them, he quickly ducked low behind another boulder as he felt that his position was getting vulnerable. But then, before he could settle into his new spot, an explosive hit too close to him. The shockwave threw him off his feet and he tumbled, yelping as he rolled down the slope. 

Pain shot through his side when he landed against a tree, and he let out an anguished cry. With his teeth clenched and hands rolled into fists, he hissed while trying to regain control over his body, scrambling to grab his rifle. He saw a blur of movement in the corner of his eye and, without stopping, James spun onto his back and shot at the HYDRA soldier in the distance. He rag-dolled instantly, falling onto the rocky terrain.

Another wave of pain traveled through James’s body, making him groan while he forced himself to stand up. He staggered to the side, his vision blurring for a brief moment, and he slumped back behind another boulder with heavy breaths. He was so exhausted and every fiber of his being begged him to stop, but he couldn’t. There was one last soldier left—the one who kept on shooting explosives in his direction. HYDRA’s weapons were getting more advanced and dangerous as weeks went by, making the rifle in his hands feel a bit fragile.

But he gripped his weapon close before peering out from behind the boulder, scanning the landscape again. He cursed under his breath, because just where the hell was the last—

Another explosion went off. This time, it was too close to him and the heat of the blast threatened to sear his skin, making him recoil. He scrambled backward to avoid getting burned, but then his eyes widened in horror. He stood out in the open, staring at the soldier who was charging his giant, bomb-launching weapon directly at him. This was his plan—get James out of hiding and kill him in plain sight. He was completely exposed and couldn’t avoid this.

He was going to die.

Sorry, Steve.

With a choked breath, James braced himself, waiting for the end when a rush of movement suddenly caught his eye. He turned just in time to see the blur tackle him, wrapping their arms around his body just as the explosion went off. It didn’t directly hit him, but it was close enough to send him tumbling down the slope again. 

James yelped as he rolled over a ledge, falling briefly before landing in a large, murky puddle. The freezing water shocked him into focus and he gasped. He gritted his teeth and struggled to sit up, fighting against the exhaustion in his bones, and tried to look for his weapon.

He located his rifle and—

James widened his eyes, staring at your body in another murky puddle. Your body was twisted and you hissed in pain, eyes squeezed shut and limbs shaking as you tried to gather yourself. You had taken the full brunt of the explosion, protecting James from the burns you sustained on your back and sides. The smell of scorched fabric mixed with the damp grass, and blood trickled from the numerous burns and cuts around your body. And your breath—your breath was immensely shallow.

The young man continued to stare, horrified as he tried to process what exactly he was seeing. How could a woman who looked like she was about to go out for a stroll be in the middle of a warzone? James shook his head, leaning close to inspect the stranger.

But as you opened your eyes and he took in your face, he realized that you weren’t a stranger at all. His heart dropped.

“You…” he breathed, his voice quivering. It was you, but…it couldn’t be. No, it wasn't possible. He was in Poland—you were in Brooklyn. How could you— 

A couple of pebbles tumbled over the ledge. 

James lunged for his weapon, pointing it upwards just as the last soldier emerged. Before the operative could even raise his weapon at him, James pulled the trigger, the crack of his rifle echoing through the land. The soldier dropped over the ledge, falling face down into the wet ground. Panting, James stood up and pointed his gun at the soldier, gazing at him as if he was going to jump up and tackle him. But when the soldier didn’t move, he let out a heavy breath and dropped to his knees. He finally won his battle against the enemy—he survived.

After taking a long, well-deserved breath, his eyes darted back over your body. He grimaced, quickly crawling over to you to assess your wounds. Your skin was covered with raw, red patches, blood gushing from all over to mix with the murky water. Your breathing was quiet, but too slow.

But you continued to stare at him, your eyes barely open but still holding on.

James’s heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. He couldn’t understand what was happening— how it was happening. How could you —the same person from the bookstore—be with him right now? Despite the confusion, he shook his head. 

“We have to go,” he said urgently. “We can’t stay here.”

With trembling hands, he tried to lift your body, but a horrible noise ripped from your throat the second he did. It wasn’t a quiet yelp or a soft whimper—it was a violent cry that made his heart shatter. He froze—there was no way you could recover. He wouldn't be able to get you help in time.

But that was cruel, because if it wasn’t for you, he would’ve been dead. All of the injuries you were suffering through would’ve been his instead. He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as he carefully adjusted his hold on you. Tears welled in his eyes—if he couldn’t get help, he could at least let you pass comfortably in his arms, right?

James cradled you in his lap as all he could do was hold you, his hands slick with blood as he felt your chest slowly lose momentum. But as his eyes searched your face, examining the blood that trailed over your cheeks and soaked your hair, he found himself reliving a memory he had wanted to erase from his mind. He bit his lips, struggling to say the right things to you.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “From Brooklyn… From…from when that car…”

He waited for a response, but you did nothing other than blink, the pain etched in your eyes too morbid for him to handle. He reached up, his hand shaking as he cradled your face, trying to offer some kind of comfort in your last moments.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his lips quivering. “I’m so sorry…”

You only blinked back in response and he briefly looked away from you, a wet breath getting caught in his throat. But then something caught his eye—a pendant hanging loosely on a thin chain around your neck, revealed by the rips in your dress. 

It was a locket.

He slowly reached for it and you watched him gently cradle it in his palm, almost admiring it before he opened it. Inside, there was a delicate flower etched into the metal and a tiny inscription beside it that made him pause.

“Rose?” he read softly.

And with that, as James whispered the name that was so dear to your heart, you released one final breath and went still in his arms.

His grip on your body tightened. He let go of the locket, reaching for your face again. When he felt how cold your skin was, he broke. A choked sob tore from his throat, his whole body curling over yours as he hugged you closer.

He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t know why you saved him or how you even found him, but you were real. You had been real. 

But now you were gone.

It was really you in that bookstore, from when he decided to give Becca a little bit of joy before he left home. When you looked up at him, his whole world halted from seeing the woman who had shoved him out of the way, taking the full brunt of the car. He was just walking back to his home with Steve, laughing as they carried sandwiches from what they believed to be the best deli in Brooklyn. Then he was on his knees next to your body, begging you to stay awake until help arrived, but you didn’t make it.

And yet, eight years later, he had found you again. In a bookstore that he had planned to stop by for so long, but couldn’t until the last second.

But then, when you said he had mistaken you for someone else, he wanted to believe it. He had to believe it, because how could it have been you?

You had died for him.

But…here, you were in his arms.

And you had died for him again.

James let out a wrecked cry, pressing his forehead against yours. His lips parted, but the words he wanted to say died in his throat. He continued to hold you as if it would bring you back.

“Bucky!”

James lifted his head, hearing his name in the distance. His breath hitched before he looked back at you. He didn’t want to leave you, but…he had to. He had to go.

Carefully, he lowered you to the ground, his hand lingering on your arm before he pushed himself up. He lost his footing briefly, the exhaustion trying to drag him back down, but he steadied himself. He looked at you one more time before staggering to the ledge.

Steve suddenly popped up, looking down and immediately letting out a heavy sigh of relief when spotting his best friend.

“Jesus, Buck.” He jumped down and crushed him in a hug. “Thank God. Are you alright?”

James inhaled sharply, nodding as he tried to reply. “I—” His voice cracked, but he exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I’m alright. I just—”

He looked back at you, but his heart stopped.

Because there was nothing to look back to.

The puddle where you had been lying was empty. No blood, no fabric, no sign of your presence whatsoever.

James stumbled backward, his breath coming in short gasps as his eyes darted around, searching for you. Longing for you.

“Bucky?” Steve frowned, stepping closer carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” He looked down at his hands, smudged with mud and ash.

But there was not a single speck of your blood staining his skin.

<><><>

May 15, 1944. 5:10 AM

I try to write about every person I save, but I can barely remember what happened in that alley with the woman. All I can think about is James.

I saved James for the 2nd time on April 15 and I woke up with the worst pain I’ve ever had all over my skin.

For so many decades, I’ve been giving people second chances — dying for them so that they can go on living. But I have never given someone a third chance, or been sent across the world for them, or had to save two of them back to back. I was gone for 2 months and I feel terrible. Laura was angry and sad and happy when I came back. She cried so much as she believed I died for good even though that can never happen.

I don’t know how I ended up with James. I want to say it shouldn’t be possible, but I don't even know the full extent of my curse. Only the world does.

So tell me, world… Why James? I understand he was going to die, but why him? Henry was in the Great War, scared and tired and no one saved him. Why wasn’t I sent to him? Maybe this is the world’s way of making it up to me. If I wasn’t able to protect Henry, maybe I was given James to protect instead. I don’t mind that.

Because for the first time since I’ve been cursed, I don’t feel like a ghost. When James looked at me — recognized me — I felt real. Even though I had lied to him before, he still made me feel as if I had a proper place in this world. And when he whispered Rose to me, even though that isn’t my name, I felt…wanted.

And he’s the first person who has ever comforted me as I died.

So…maybe he could be the first person I saved to know the truth.

When he comes back to Brooklyn, I will tell him. He deserves to know.

<><><>

March 5, 1945. 4:31 AM

We live in hell.

I found out yesterday that James had died. Becca came in crying and told me the news before I could even ask if she was alright. They got the letter — killed in action — fallen into a ravine. They can’t even bring back his body for a proper funeral.

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.

I was brought to him a year ago to save him. But why would the world you let me save him twice if you were still going to take him away? Rip him away from his sisters and mother and father? I would say that I can’t imagine how his parents are feeling, but I can. When my baby was taken from me, I wanted to die too.

But this isn’t just about them. James was supposed to be the one stranger I could allow myself to be honest with. But you took him away.

Why would you give me that false sense of hope? Make me believe he would survive? I had to watch Becca fall to the floor crying and I couldn’t even help her. She lost her big brother, but I couldn’t even tell her that I understood her pain without revealing this damn curse you placed on me.

You brought me to him. You WANTED me to save him so much that you sent me out there. Of all people, him. You didn’t even take me to Henry when he needed me. You could have had this whole time and you didn’t. You took me to James instead so that I could give him the chance to go home to his family.

But then you killed him. 

If I had known he was going to die, I would’ve at least told him my real name.

Damn you.

Damn you.

Go to hell.

Damn you Fuck you

NEXT CHAPTER >

General Taglist! @a-century-of-sass

Thanks for reading :)

[salparadiselost]

Just something I wrote up. I had this scene in my head and I couldn’t not write it. It’s based on a New Gods AU which I’m not sure I’ve talked about but it exists in the group chat.

*****

“Fetch your brothers. Return to the Manor immediately.”

---

Dick hummed all of the top 40 tracks under his breath as he walked along the edge of a highway. He believed he was somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, given the trees, the mountains, and the slight tinge of magic that wasn’t his. There were old beings sleeping under him, older than humans and the concepts that they had used to create godlings like him.

They weren’t the reason he came here, though.

He was here for a much newer god.

He sniffed the air like a hunting hound and stopped abruptly.

A truck clattered past him, not stopping, not seeing.

Dick searched along the grass and found his telltale, a small roadside memorial in the form of a white wooden cross was tipped over to the side. Its paint was peeling off, sloughing off in fat chunks. The wood underneath it was molding into black. The forgotten husk of a teddy bear decomposed into the ground beside it. Artificially coloured flowers that would never get the blessing of decomposure lay partially buried in the dirt. A faded picture of a girl, brown-haired and big-smiling, was nailed to the cross, and it fluttered slightly when another car passed. Written on the photo, in faded pen and running ink, the second half of a sentence could just barely be read: “-was last seen here”.

Dick snorted.

Tim was nothing if not predictable.

He turned off of the road and went into the forest beyond it.

He doesn’t know what happened here; it wasn’t his jurisdiction. Tim could probably tell you. Talk to you about how that girl’s car had been broken down, or maybe she had stopped to help an ‘innocent’ bystander, or maybe she had met a secret boyfriend for a drive. He could tell you about the days before, how she was in life before it was cut short, what innocuous things were the dominoes stacking up before the whole thing tipped over.

It was a conversation that Dick had had with Tim before, but not one that interested him much, given that she hadn’t become the center of America’s media circus. Instead, her story ended here. In a forest, with a wooden cross and a cold case sitting in some podunk town somewhere.

Dick’s gaze flicked through the foliage, across a tattered piece of fabric caught in a bush’s branches, across the loose threads from torn clothes that would have been too small for the human eye.

Around him, the forest chattered and whispered, quietly saying what had happened in a way that he couldn’t quite hear. It told the entire story if you knew how to listen. Tim did. Bruce did. But Dick didn’t. He only knew the clues enough to follow them to the edge of a lake.

The bright blue lake was like a hole in the forest’s coat. Trees parted to make room for it, and it reflected the sky back on itself. It was a pristine blue, except for a blotch out in its middle.

There, amongst the endless sky water and the sparkling ripple of waves, was a body.

It floated in the suspended reality of the water, bobbing with restless motion despite the stillness in its limp form. It was completely naked, revealing pale and pasty skin to the world. The colour was greyer than any living human should be and unnaturally mottled with green and blue. All the warmth of life had been leached out by its watery grave, leaving only a grisly shadow of what it had been. The knobby ridges of its spine jutted into the air. Its neck stuck at an unnatural angle, and there was an occasional peek at a slash of raw, exposed flesh. Little chunks of meat, bitten and pulled off by fish and birds, floated next to the corpse.

Dick waited, his foot tapping against the shore of the beach.

The body kept floating there, buoyant from the bloat of gasses captured in its stomach. Long hair rippled with the waves.

He sighed, put two fingers up to his mouth, and whistled. The sound pierced across the lake and hung in the air for a few seconds.

Then, the body twitched, limbs locking back into physical control. It shook and then moved its arms to sit itself up, raising up on the water like someone awakening from a nap. It sat up, and Dick could see the remnants of her face. It was torn, like someone had dragged it, and let pieces of it come off like ribbons to then be eaten by the water. Skin hung. The eyes were gone. Her jawbone was visible through a large gaping hole in her cheek. Flesh had been picked apart by fishes and other creatures. It was a portrait of a death. Her death, he supposes.

The face of her stared at him until suddenly it wasn’t her’s anymore.

In between two of his breaths, the figure on the lake had changed into something Dick recognised much more.

“What?” Tim snapped from his seat on the water, legs tucked close and looking very much like a teenage that had been interrupted from his twin bed. Waves lapped at the edges of him, but they might have well been blankets and sheets. Dick is pretty sure he’s seen Tim in this exact position at the Manor, comforter knotted up all around his legs with his laptop balanced on his lap.

He gave Dick the same annoyed, haughty, ‘you’re bothering me’, look that every younger sibling seemed to have mastered.

“I’m here to pick you up,’ said Dick, his tone bouncing. “Dad wants us. It’s time to come back.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed, and the temperature of the air turned down a few degrees. “I’m not a kid that needs to get fetched from his room.”

Dick snorted and shrugged. “Trust me. I’ve been trying to use that argument for centuries. A millennium before you were even thought up. It doesn’t work.”

Tim stayed staring for a few moments before he groaned and collapsed back into the water. The movement exposed a weeping gash on the body’s side, the flash of her ribs was poking out from the meat. There were bruises on her belly and up her chest. Tim laid on his back, staring up at the sky and rocking with the slight ripple of the lake.

“I guess telling him I’m busy won’t dissuade him?”

“Nope.”

Tim sighed and rolled to hop off of his makeshift bed. His legs splashed into the water, but only raised halfway up his thighs. He trudged his way towards Dick, and as he did, the memory of the dead girl shed off of him. His body healed over the gashes. His neck clicked into the right place. A baggy hoody and jeans manifested onto himself. His hair dried, shortened, and any caught leaves or twigs fell out of it. By the time he reached the shore, the only remnant left of the girl was the slight corpse tinge on Tim’s skin. It was a little too pale to be alive, a little too blue and green not to suggest decomposition, but even that was being erased away.

“You figure out your little mystery?” Dick asked, watched Tim shake the last of the lake and the girl off of him. ‘You’ve been out here for a few weeks.”

“Not really,” said Tim, as he grabbed an Airpod out of his hoodie pocket and shoved it into one of his ears. “Finding the body is easy. Filling in the holes in the middle is always harder.”

He also drew a maroon beanie from his hoodie pocket and stuck it on his head.

“And floating out there in the middle of the lake is essential?” Dick teased and Tim gave him a venomous frown. It wasn’t the first time Dick had found him in a rather deathly position despite Bruce trying to ban it multiple centuries ago.

Tim drew a beat-up white sneaker from the hoodie pocket and then another. “Living through the last moments is very informative.”

Dick grinned and Tim’s glare dropped. “Wait, you’re not telling Dad are you?”

Dick hummed with a smirk, and Tim looked like he wanted to throw something at Dick’s head. “I hate you, you know.”

“Alright, alright, maybe I won’t tell him.” He raised his hands in surrender and gave Tim a smile that usually made people fall in love with him. Usually. But Tim wasn’t people, and he sure as hell knew that behind all the pretty grins, Dick’s teeth were sharpened and his tongue could give the most beautiful lie.

His gaze remained suspicious, but eventually he shook his head and changed the subject, apparently done with Dick’s game.

“What the hell are you wearing anyways?”

Dick blinked, taking a second to remember exactly how he was appearing at the moment. It was his normal body in its normal shape. He double checked to confirm he was male, and yep, in the male configuration. All of this was stuff Tim had seen a million times before, so it wasn’t something with the body.

It must be the outfit.

It took a second but he remembered he was wearing a glittery, blue sequined leotard that cut high up on his hips and had large hearts emblazoned on it. Matching the leotard, he wore a glittery cowboy hat and a pair of heart-shaped glasses that did little to hide the bright blue shadow on his lids. He also had on gold cowboy boots that went to his thigh and gloves that stretched toward his elbows. A row of beaded tassels hung from the leotard and this shimmered when he breathed.

He had been at a concert when he saw the text from Bruce to retrieve Tim.

Concerts were more his speed than all of Tim’s moody floating in the woods. Modern concerts were a spectacle and he lived for spectacle. He didn’t really care about the music or the artistry; he always found those to be the most boring parts, but he loved the sheer grandeur of their shows. He adored the way the pulse of the crowd rocked into his bones and filled his lungs. He reveled in how the thrum consumed you into a part of itself. He drank the fizzy pop of power that came from a thousand people all chanting the same sounds. It was intoxicating. It was thrilling. It was a vestige of him.

How he was.

Back when humans filled coliseums and circuses were the center of the world.

It came close to satisfying the vicious yearning he still had for blood sprayed across Roman sands and the clatter of chariot wheels.

No more though. He had to get his fill from a different type of spectacle now.

“I was at a music thing,” Dick said with a waved hand. “Some little Missouri girl is calling herself a princess and people are eating it up.”

Tim raised a curious eyebrow, eyes going over Dick’s outfit. He knew the rules of Dick’s god hood, generally the bigger, the flashier, and the more flash in the pan, the better. “That seems like a boon for you.”

“It’s fast,” said Dick with a shrug. “It’s fun. But it's music, which always means it's only half a meal for me.”

After all, he wasn’t a god of music. He didn’t care about the melody or the words, if anything it was competition for what he truly wanted. He wanted something much more primal. Much more ancient.

Ironic that most of it lived in the moments and flashes of social media. The newest technologies to satisfy the most basic of needs.

He had to adapt if he wanted to live, and this is where that got him. He knew Tim understood because he wanted something similar. Something that was ugly to most of the modern world, and yet survived with each new revolution.

Sure enough, Tim nodded and walked towards Dick’s side.

“Are we going straight to the Manor?” He asked, eyes looking forward and momentarily tabling the mystery in the lake. His mind was already turning on something new, trying to figure out why Bruce had called them all back.

It wasn’t… unusual for Bruce to call them all together back to the Manor but the timing was odd.

They had mostly recently been called back a few months ago and Bruce usually let them have a couple years in the field before he was itching to have them back again. It was a deviation of their pattern and given that Bruce was an ancient god with ancient habits, it took a lot to break their patterns.

Something was up.

Something that required all of them to be home.

“We have to go get Jason,” said Dick, the world already changing around them. “Then we will go home.”

[kickbutts-singsongs]

I’ve had some thoughts about Izuku and his actions in the post-canon chapter that I haven’t known how to voice until this very moment so uh I just wanted to say that I actually saw myself in him and his decisions and here’s why:

(warning: manga spoilers and minor traumadumping)

I just recently turned 20 years old and I’ve been noticing that life feels a whole lot clearer now that I’m out of my crazy house (for the most part) and attending college, but I didn’t realize just how murky and foggy everything had felt up until now.

Like seriously looking back on it, I felt like my head was underwater and I was in a fishtank watching everyone pass me by. Some people would come up to the glass and reach out, but I didn’t really reach back bc I just assumed that since there was glass I wouldn’t be able to truly connect. Instead I kind of acted the best and brightest that I could, almost like I was performing tricks for them, in the hopes that they’d at least stick around, but I didn’t think I’d be anything more than a passing interest to them. But that was okay because I liked seeing the people and it was enough for me, I’d take what I could get.

Also some context: I was homeschooled as a kid and was a pretty isolated child whose only real connection to anyone was with her younger sister (which may or may not have been an unhealthy relationship) so when I finally attended high school, I went through those years thinking that everyone who ever met me wouldn’t really like me or want to stay connected bc if my own lil sis didn’t then who would? And though I did make friends, and they def reached out and touched the glass, I felt like I was this intangible thing that they would soon move on from and forget, once again leaving me alone in the water

Last year, someone came up to my tank and punched straight through the glass

And holy fuckin smokes everything changed

I have this dear friend that I’ve known for quite a long time (6 years now), but I never in a million years would’ve guessed that I had any real impact on her bc she was so well-liked and was surrounded by so many great people. I was just me.

But one night, she told me that I was her best friend.

Did I cry? Uh huh big time

But also?? My entire worldview changed????

Cuz WHAT DO YOU MEAN IM SPECIAL ENOUGH TO YOU FOR YOU TO DECLARE THAT OUT OF EVERYONE YOU KNOW, I AM YOUR BEST FRIEND

Basically, since then I have never felt more alive, and now I’ve decided that my days of being a wallflower to everyone I know and love are fuckin OVER

IM BEING PRESENT AND ATTENTIVE AND INSERTING MYSELF INTO PEOPLES LIVES BC THEY WANT ME IN THEM BITCHESSSSSS

“Wow, Song, congrats on the epiphany? I guess? What does that have to do with Izuku??”

Great question my friend

In my humble and lightly biased opinion, Izuku grew up without a bunch of self-worth and didn’t think very highly of himself. He also didn’t grow up with very many (healthy) friendships, and when he finally attended UA, he got his first dose of seeing people actually reaching out to him

But I think he was stuck in a daze of “Wow they really wanna be my friend? That’s crazy cuz they’re so cool and I’m just. Me.” <- similar to how I acted in hs.

And after all the ✨traumatizing shit✨ he went thru up until the end of the series, I think it’d be understandable if his life felt a bit foggy and murky, like he was existing but not truly living (esp if he never got a therapist or smth, but I sincerely hope he did) and he didn’t feel like he had much of an impact on the lives of his friends in hs other than his heroics (esp after he lost his quirk)

So my guess is that he just coexisted with everyone, counted his blessings, and then let everyone go after they graduated. It wouldn’t surprise me if the only reason he and Katsuki are as comfortable as they are in the epilogue is bc Katsuki was the one making efforts to reach out to Izuku for the past eight years, but again that’s my projections ashajkajaka

Anyways SO when it comes to the point where Katsuki’s driving and tells Izuku “if you treat everyone like they’re special to you, then no one actually is” I was shook to my core because that’s how I’d been living my life (and I still was at that point) so when I saw a lot of people criticizing Izuku for his seemingly uncaring behavior in rejecting Katsuki’s vague agency proposal, I couldn’t help but feel empathy for my boy bc I prob would’ve said and done the exact same thing. I don’t think I would’ve understood the importance of such an ask, or the impact I would’ve had if I’d said no.

And further on, when Izuku looks at Uraraka, someone who was a dear friend of his in high school, and notices that they never talk anymore and grew apart (partially bc he let that happen), he hears Katsuki’s words in his head and realizes that he’s right, and that Uraraka is someone that is special to him, actually special to him, and that he wants to rebuild that connection and put work in to keep in touch.

But I don’t think that means that that’s the end.

I think Uraraka is just the beginning.

My theory (my hope) is that he’ll start to look around at the people in his life (or currently out of his life) and allow himself to actually be in their lives again, to purposefully insert himself back in. To reach out, to connect. He’ll start being more aware of how his life actually impacts others, and how his life has meaning outside of doing things just to help people.

(And maybe he’ll re-evaluate how much he actually cares about a certain someone and notice how much effort they actually put into their relationship and wonder if they’re really just a friend to him but that’s my shipper heart alskllaksk)

Anyways uh I guess I had been neglecting my ‘thinking about Izuku’ duties for a sec so now I’ve just word-vomited a small essay that’s probably mildly incomprehensible but the point is that I care and maybe someone else will too so if u got this far thanks for reading 🫡

[grapejuicestyless]

Orange Juice

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: High school sweethearts, the picture perfect pair whose story crumbled as quickly as it started. All because of a reckless boy and his addictive nature and an emotional girl and her growing tiredness.(warning: Mentions of addiction(alcohol).)

“I need you!” He pleads, words broken and grass stuck to his knees as he stands from his spot on the ground where he lay face down, passed out in the front yard of the chateau once again.

He held her hands in his, pulling at her fingers until her knuckles seemed to stretch at his sheer force and determination to keep her put in place, to keep her with him.

“If that was true you would have stopped!” Her voice was shaky, tears burning into her cheeks and her throat constricting with each choked up breath. Still, she couldn’t look at him in the eyes, the same deep blue eyes that held her youth and captured her heart with nothing more than the twinkle of innocence and play.

She knew if she were to look back she would try to keep fighting it, and as much as she longed to always be there to help, it was obvious her help was nothing more than something that delayed his progress. JJ was his father’s son, whether they admitted it or not. No, he never laid a hand on Y/n’s skin, but when he drank his words shot to kill. He carried the same fire in his soul and a pent up rage that seethed through the cracks in his teeth each time he held a solo cup in his palms.

No amount of comfort or persuasion would stop the boy from sending himself six feet in the ground. He had drank them both dry and Y/n hated to admit that she had lost the fight, she had to throw in the towel. He wouldn’t get better until she was gone, and she knew it, even if he refused to admit that he needed to let the harsh slap of reality to beat him senseless for him to find his feet.

“You know it’s not that simple, baby! Please, tell me you know it, I’m trying, I really am. Please.” He cries, lips trembling all ugly as his nose runs and his cheeks become blotchy. He’s a mess, looks it and smells it too.

His boyish smell of sweet cedar and the sandy beaches covered with vanilla are masked with the stench of whatever he pours into his cup and day old cigarette smoke. His blonde hair isn’t messy in the cute way that he wore it when her hands would ruffle through each lock, but because he hasn’t made it to his bed in days, choosing to pass out somewhere from the front lawn to the living room if he ever makes it that far.

“Don’t bullshit me, Jay. You and me both know it, I’ve tried, and I’ve tried and we’ve wasted all that potential to get better and we’ve fought this before. We win the fight, but what about the war? What about me, the bed I sleep in and the pillow that doesn’t even smell like my fiancé anymore because he prefers to be face down passed out in our lawn!” Y/n rips her hand away from JJ’s like it’s poisonous, a bite that stings and slowly works its way into her blood.

Y/n’s not angry at him, her lover, her sweetheart fiancé. No, how could she ever be when even at his worst she can only ever see the good hidden deep inside of his abusive behaviors and dependence on all the wrong things.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long, so long JJ and you never come back anymore. You’re too far gone to even remember that theres a warm bed waiting for you.” She cries, eyes closing and head falling into the boy’s shoulder as she sobs out sentences aimlessly.

The worst part is that it’s his own fault. His whole life he tried so hard to finally break free of his family’s name, the bitter memories of his abusive father and absent mother leaving him with a motivation to be better than they ever could have been. Yet, here he is half drunk with the same smell stuck on his breath and some half-assed apology ready to spew out at his lover.

“I’ll get better, for you, I will. I’d do anything for you.” She pulls away, looking at him with big doe eyes and a scrunched up nose. He thinks he finally has a chance to change for a second, to fix all his wrongdoings until she shakes her head, looking down at her feet and stepping away from him.

“No, no. Jay, no.” Wiping her cheeks, Y/n seems to finally let go of the innocence that once masked all of his imperfections.

“Your heart has changed, your soul has changed and you aren’t the man I love anymore.” Watching how she fiddles with the ring on her finger breaks his heart, no it absolutely crushes it. Reality is a sour taste to be swallowed down and JJ just can’t seem to get it down now that it’s all right in front of him.

“And I’ll always love you, and if you ever need me I’ll still be here-“

“No, Y/n/n, no.” He tries to follow her, the ring in his palm burning a circle on his skin. A symbol of their eternal love that seemed to redefine what ‘forever’ really meant.

“But I can’t be the one you rely on anymore, it’s not healthy for you.” She tries to reason with him, but he doesn’t want to hear it, he only wants her to hold him again.

“I love you!” JJ tries to make her see it, how his blood only keeps pumping even when he should be dead by now because in his heart he knows he’ll feel her touch against his forehead in the hot summer mornings and her hips against his in the late afternoons that seemed to always slip away far too quickly.

“You’re not your father, Jay.” She reminds him, making JJ stop in his tracks where he debates whether or not to cry or laugh in relief or anger.

“So thats it?” He decides to be angry even if he really isn’t, even if it’s his own fault for driving the girl away. Even if they both recognize that she needs to go away for some time.

“You’re just going to go ahead and carry on? Leave me here alone like I don’t even matter? What, was I pulling you down? Was it just too much?” He spits it like fire at her heart and she tries not to take it too harshly. Y/n knows he gets mean when he’s tipsy, and the empty bottles hidden in the long grass tell her that he’s well beyond that point now.

“I need you to get better.” She begs quietly, looking down as she speed walks down the old dirt roads that lead to a better part of town. She feels naked without the ring adorned on her finger or the weight of her soul hanging over her shoulders.

Y/n swears she can hear his sobs from across town, the broken cries wondering where his lover went in the late afternoon and the even louder ones in the early morning once the fog clears and he comes to terms with his faults.

It’s all in her head, their friends remind her, and they send her photos of him in the mail to tell her how he’s getting better. But the polaroids become further and farther in between, and soon the eyes she swore she never wanted to leave her life became those of a strangers, a stranger who knew everything there was to know about her.

“I haven’t drank in six months, on the dot.” He leans over the kitchen table, indents from his rings and scratches from pen evident in the wood. His hair is just the same as it was when they first met, a blonde mop of waves that sit perfectly around his tanned face. Only now he doesn’t look so tired and he doesn’t smell so sour.

She can only smile at him, letting the crowd fill in around them and filter out through the door as time passes and the moon sets underneath the horizon. She still thinks about how light her finger feels without the handmade ring on her finger, the promise that was within the bent metal weighing more than any diamond any man could ever buy her.

“Can I get you a drink, to celebrate? Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for our friends. It’s yours if you want it, just glad you could visit.” JJ doesn’t know about the piles of photos she keeps of him, the photos that she never had the heart to unpin in her room in the chateau. He’s acutely aware of the fact his friends had been sending the girl updates, he had even asked them to at some points, just so she wouldn’t carry so much worry and guilt as he put on her all those months ago.

“I’ve missed you.” He says it softly, hoping partly that the faint music and the dying chatter from the outside will drown out his confession of love for the girl in front of him, but the sad smile on her face tells him otherwise.

“Feel’s so empty here without you, like I’ve been waiting for you to come home.” He kicks the splintered wood, hands in his pockets and his eyes darting to the orange juice sat warming on the counter like it was placed there just for him. He knew it was, and he knew who did it too.

But Y/n started to cry before JJ could even begin to thank her for all she has done for him, for sacrificing everything just to see him get better.

Shes blubbering something about regretting how she just up and left him like that, how she keeps his memories with her and still wakes up smiling when she thinks of him in her sleep. But more importantly, she cries about how she doesn’t think that she can ever have him again.

Of course, it’s not her fault that she associates his condition with her. Each relapse happened in her company and each stage was only worsened by her staying. She had to leave for him to get better and now to her, it was evident it was for the best.

JJ knows she’s wrong, but how could she? It’s his own fault for what he’s done to her but it’s really not even his fault. Falling dependent on a substance that only ever caused harm was something he started to do for fun, he never intended to become addicted to it, to become mean. They were both just victims in an incredibly cruel situation.

“It’s like you said, Y/n/n, just like you said. My heart has changed, and my soul has changed, and this town has changed, and this world has changed!” He takes her hands in his, showering her his ring and offering a new beginning to their tangled love story.

“But I have not.” It’s so quiet when she says it, JJ almost misses it. She hesitates, flinching away from the ring and refusing to put it back on for the fear that the reoccurring nightmares she had conveniently left out of his condition would come true again.

“The last time you were drunk you were face down, passed out in our lawn.” She looks at him, closing his fingers around the ring and standing from the table.

“Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for you. It’s yours if you want it, I’m just glad you could visit.” She admits softly, slipping past him as calm as she can keep herself, hoping that he can’t hear the way that her heart cracks with each inhale of air.

He whispers something about still loving her, and even though she never says it back, the fact that she’s just admitted to buying the drink specifically for him with the hopes of him showing up gives JJ hope, a hope that he secretly knows will only leave him more devastated in the long run, but one that keeps him going.

He pours himself a glass of the orange juice later that night, the crowd long gone and empty solo cups scattered along the lawn. The ring in his pocket weighs down his cargo shorts pockets and burns through the fabric to his skin, but deep down he knows that he’s changed, he’s been better.

Like she had told him the day it all came crashing down, he is not his father, so he will try and try until he can mend what he broke and the wound is nothing but a scar left behind to show his strength and resilience.

JJ prefers apple juice over orange juice, but as he takes a sip of the tangy liquid, he decides it tastes sweeter than usual, and he really likes orange juice better than any other drink.

[ramblingsx-ofa-dreamer]

mourning! wait, no that’s not right. morning! it’s morning now and the sun is shining through my window and i’ll be twenty three next week. maybe that’s where this deep ache in my chest has come from. twenty fucking three. no longer am i the naive seventeen year old with bright eyes and an even brighter future - i do still miss her though. i’m no longer the lost nineteen year old crying herself to sleep while wondering what could possibly be so wrong with her that she’s seemingly so undeserving of love, and even friendship. i’m not heartbroken at twenty one, lying awake at night wishing you would love me back. soon i’ll be another year older and another year further away from these past versions of myself - and from the feeling of your touch on my skin. no, soon i’ll be twenty three with a barely remembered past and an increasingly uncertain future. i miss the version of me who though she had her whole life planned out at twelve years old, i wonder how she’s doing these days (she was supposed to be an engineer i remember, she wanted her parents to be proud). although these past selves will always be kept under careful lock and key in the back of my mind, i can’t help but feel like they existed in some other universe - some other time - completely separate from wherever it is that i now exist. i can still recall the hope with which the old me used to anticipate her future, if only she could see me now, living my life blown from place to place like leaves scattered by a cool, fall breeze. perhaps we could both find ways to be proud of each other, but i don’t suppose i’ve really done all that much to be so proud of - besides live this long, and that’s not really much of an accomplishment (but don’t tell that to twenty year old me, she would never believe we’re still here).

ruminating on the past rarely has the desired results so i’d like to think about future me instead. maybe future me is looking back at me now and carefully remembering those experiences which have shaped the very fibers of this timeless being we seem to have become. every joy, no matter how small, every broken heart, and all the little moments in between. it’s too easy to get tangled in old emotions and even easier to find yourself incapable of moving on. you know, forgive and forget and all that. maybe future me has a better temper and is a better friend than past me has been. for all of our sakes though, i really hope future me has finally figured out how to love herself in all the ways past me couldn’t. even the now me is stuck in the fake-it-til-you-make-it stage, and who knows how long that could last. i truly hope she figures out that she is deserving of such love, no matter what any past me - or past you for that matter - might have said. maybe she’ll find someone who will love her in all the ways she’s ever dreamed about and maybe she’ll finally find a purpose, a meaning, for it all.

who knows what changes twenty three might hold but, for better or worse, it will all bring me one step closer to my future. the going will be rough and there will be many rocky roads to travel but it has to be done - if not for the now me then at least for that little girl who used to watch the stars at night and dream of a tomorrow where she could become anything her little heart desired. i think i’ll do it for her, to take on this uncertain future with bright eyes, an even brighter heart, and most of all, hope.

[skyfallslayer]

A Stitch In Time || Prologue

-Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader-

Series Masterlist

° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.

° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.

° Date: 7/20

° Rating: Teen

° Word Count: 4,569

° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!

The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?

He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance? 

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.

“Uh… so…”

It hurts to even think about it.

“I was just…”

Should he even say it?

“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”

Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?

“Be next to you?”

Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you. 

He’s loved you since the very beginning.

.

.

.

Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.

No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.

No it was–

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.

(Was she trying to freeze you?!)

“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk. 

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–

No.

That’s officially gone out the window. 

It’s just his daughter. His.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes. 

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

Maybe later though.

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry…”  He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

Steve copies him with a chuckle.  “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused. 

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…

(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)

After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”

Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again. 

Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”

“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.

Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”

“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”

“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.

“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”

Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”

“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”

Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life? 

Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”

A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh. 

The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.” 

A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.

Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him. 

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead. 

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

.

.

.

Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…

Why were you cursed to be underground?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up. 

He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.

Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?

.

.

.

You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see. 

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He grins. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

“I love you more.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Steve.” 

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle. 

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!” 

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

.

.

.

Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.

Five years old. 

That was it.

That’s the last time he ever saw you.

And that hurt like a bitch.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He doesn’t know when…

But everything suddenly just…

Clicked.

Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.

“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.

When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.

First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.

He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”

Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”

Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.

“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”

Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?

“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”

“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.

Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”

Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”

“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”

“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.”

And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.

Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.

“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”

“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.

“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”

Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?

Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”

“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”

“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”

The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”

“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.” 

“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"

Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.

You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt. 

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.

He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.

He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.

And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.

“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well. 

Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”

Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”

“O-Oh…” Bucky looks away too. “I always h-hated when s-she cries.”

With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”

Bucky frowns. “Steve–"

“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”

“You didn’t find anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky. 

“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”

“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.” 

Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible. 

“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”

“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”

Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”

“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

.

.

.

“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”

“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”

And those were the words that would change -everything-.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@navs-bhat @liarasstuff @justmewoo @thed1v1n3

@luckyzipperscissorsbat @like-a-domino @kissesofdeadforme

@audigay

[presidentdisastraofgallifrey]

I’m just playing around with my headcanons because I like lists, but. The Doctor lies, right? Like, a lot. Especially about his age (the fact that this is mostly because it’s hard to keep track of details across 41 (?) seasons, a handful of movies, and hundreds each of audio dramas and books is not relevant here). I’ve always gone with he must have been very young still as One to make the math remotely work. And he was, relatively. I still like the idea that he only looked old because of a failed experiment. But what if he wasn’t that young and just never factored his non-renegade years in (when he did any factoring at all).

That would make his age:

Pre-renegade: a few thousand, maybe? I mean, he had to be an adult which takes a couple hundred and why shouldn’t he have had a relatively settled life he never fit into? Married the Master, maybe. Left because they got divorced and he was pouting. If you ignore the audios they don’t see each other again until he’s regenerated twice. Is Susan related to him? This is Shrodinger’s time lord biology. Maybe she is the child of his child. Maybe she is his very young house cousin who wanted to run away too. Maybe she’s just a kid he took in because she needed to leave. Take your pick. (Does a few thousand work with my later regeneration standards? No. But maybe this isn’t his first body and he got so used to not counting Before he miscounted that too idk).

One: a few centuries? Presumably they wandered around for a while before settling on Earth, and if you add a few gaps between companions he could have been off by himself for a bit. It does make sense he was still relatively young when his body gave out, though.

Two: I like the idea that he was only in this body for a few decades. Makes the execution more traumatic. Plus, I like him spending almost this whole life with Jamie.

Fugitive: A full spy career, which has to have been like a full career in other areas. I’m sure there was a contract. So let’s call it 900 years because I like making vague references and think I’m funny. Also yes I choose to believe she existed between his execution and him waking up on Earth.

Three: a few centuries again. I think he spent a few, though not many, more years at unit than the seasons would suggest. And then afterwards Sarah was in some ways different from a regular companion because (1) she wasn’t stuck with him and (2) she kept up her job. So he definitely went on tons of adventures, both after Jo but before her and during Sarah’s era.

Four: many centuries. Not only do I think there are large gaps between each of his companions, but seasons 16-17 spanned centuries and season 18 really should have been a few years because as it was it seemed like Romana and Adric hardly got to know each other at all.

Five: idk, a couple hundred? I just started his era.

Six: some number in the low hundreds.

Seven: some number in the low hundreds.

Eight: I have actually changed my mind and decided he should be one of the longest-lived. Maybe he gets 1,000 before having to give himself up to war.

War: It is still literally impossible to know how much time actually passed because of constantly changing timey wimey stuff. He lived for thousands of years and also only a few decades.

Nine: Like a year. He got himself killed as fast as possible. Romana would be impressed.

Ten: Many hundreds of years, with gaps between companions and that long stretch alone at the end. About the same as Four.

Eleven: The first and only time he lives a normal regeneration length. He is an Old Man. Let’s call it 1500.

Twelve: Several hundred but not all THAT ridiculously long. We don’t count the confession dial because he was remade each time.

Thirteen: Barely a century :( no that’s not fair. Let’s say 200 because she takes some off screen recovery time from prison and leaves the fam alone more often than we see.

Fourteen: less than 200, choosing to regenerate when the last of Rose’s grandkids die of old age. But it felt very long to him.

Fifteen: No way to know this yet but since he didn’t show up the second he regenerated let’s say he saw the universe solo for a bit, enjoying being able to enjoy things again, so he’s been around for a few decades now.

All of that works out to (very roughly and not counting War at all)…oh. About 10,000, actually. Which according to my (totally made up) regeneration math makes him approximately middle aged. Which is ridiculous, 10,000 is probably their entire lifespan, but making a species that lives for thousands of years in the first place is ridiculous so they brought it on themselves

I also like the idea that the Doctor and the Master were literally married, and the Master has spent millennia now trying to get back with their ex while the Doctor is like I ADORE YOU BUT WE CAN’T TALK UNTIL YOU STOP MURDERING PEOPLE (except for Five, whose opinion on the matter is you murdered ME, you bastard, I want a second divorce)

[jimblejamblewritings]

luck be a (leading) lady | part 14.

[Posted 2023.08.12]

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

Despite the documentary trailer coming out, the general public didn’t believe you and Ricky were together. According to everyone, the whole show was an act. A very entertaining act but an act nonetheless. Not that you or Ricky minded. With the increase in auditions and booking small roles, you wanted your personal life to stay personal for just a little longer. You told Gina that much as you helped her finish packing.

Her mom was back into so your roommate turned sister was officially leaving your house. Gina dragged her entire closet into your room so you two could pack up and watch a movie on the projector screen in your room.

“I can’t believe your moving. Seriously,” you said as you shoved her jackets into a box.

“You act like I’m leaving the state, I’m literally across the street.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe that old couple finally chose to live in a nursing home.”

You and Gina paused before you bursted out in laughter. It was really nice to have her stay near by. While you were friends with the rest of the drama club, Gina and Ricky were still your only close friends at East High.

“You know what I can’t believe,” Gina started. “That two of my best friends are leaving me next year.”

“Senior year. I still haven’t processed it yet,” you admitted.

A knock on the door caught your attention. Your dad was standing in the doorway with a plate of fruit. “My lovely senior and junior…”

You and Gina rolled your eyes.

“Gina, your mother wants me to remind you that she’d like you home by ten thirty and that you two can talk tomorrow at school.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you, here you guys go. Let’s try to finish packing before the night is over.”

“If you really want us to finish. Dad, you could he—”

The sound of your window opening made you all turn. You laughed as Ricky practically fell into your room. He jumped up with a quickness.

“Hi, Mr. L/N. Y/N, Gina.”

“Hello, Richard. You do know we have a front door, right?” you father pointed to downstairs.

“Yeah but since you guys said I’m allowed over any time, it’s not as much fun unless I’m going through the window.”

Your dad looked up at the ceiling. “I have clearly overstayed my welcome talking to a bunch of teenagers. Okay, Gina, home by ten thirty. Richard no sleeping in Y/N’s room but you are welcome to take any other room upstairs. Bed time is eleven, no negotiations. School’s tomorrow… I can’t believe my baby is a senior.”

“Dad, Dad, there’s plenty of time before I graduate. We don’t need to start crying now.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You chuckled as your dad left the room before focusing on Ricky again. He had no problem showing affection towards you with Gina in the room because she was the only person that knew you and Ricky were a real couple. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about being sworn to secrecy no matter the reason but she was still just happy to be let in.

Your boyfriend sat on the bed, actually helping you pack up Gina’s closet. “I wanted to give you something but I couldn’t really wait until tomorrow. Well, both of you, kind of.”

“What is it?”

“So, I’ve had this melody stuck in my head all day and it reminded me of Y/N.”

“Sap,” Gina muttered.

“I think it’s sweet.” You leaned over to give him a peck.

“Anyway, I know you don’t really write songs but you have an ear for music Y/N and Gina does write lyrics so I thought maybe we could work on this together?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Ricky stood up to leave. “I actually do have to get home. One of Dad’s only rules is bed by ten on the first day of school.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yep, it’s been a tradition since I started… and it is nine thirty so I do need to go.”

You gave him another kiss. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow… Oh! Did Lucille send you the filming schedule?”

“Yeah, I’m just glad the filming is here. Senior year away from East High would’ve been such a bummer.”

“I know right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~~

You leaned against Ashylnn’s locker, chuckling as you watched Kourtney and Carlos take pictures with fans. It was weird to say you guys had fans.

“So what do you think, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You focused back on Gina and Ashlynn.

“About Ash and Maddie giving each other relationship advice.”

You and Gina shared a look before you stood up straight. “I think that’s for Ashlynn to figure out but we need to figure out how to get to the drama club before we’re late for Ms. Jenn’s big announcement.”

Ashlynn’s eyebrows furrowed. “For me to figure out what?”

“Nothing,” you said with a laugh before grabbing her and Gina’s hands and leading them to the drama club.

You guys weren’t sure why Ms. Jenn called everyone in for a “surprise.” It was pretty obvious that the next play was going to be High School Musical 3. Without stupid Zacky Roy around to throw the Drama Club off their game, you guys were going right back to doing Disney TV shows for musicals. You just hoped that next semester you guys did Teen Beach Movie before you graduated.

You felt Ricky squeeze your hand once before you guys broke apart and left the drama room with everyone else to go to the Pep Rally. Staying lowkey was going to be so hard. You let Ashlynn and Gina walk in between the two of you on your way to the field.

“Can you believe auditions are this Friday? I need to pick a song,” Ashlynn said as she started searching through a list written down on her phone.

“What part are you going for Ash?”

“I’m thinking Kelsey or Sharpay. You?”

You shrugged. “Whatever doesn’t interfere with filming and my calculus homework. You know I’ve been demoted at Saltwater.”

“What?!”

You chuckled at your friends’ expressions. “Not like that. Bennet agreed that Principal dancer is too much to handle with school and filming so I’m only principal for the fall ballet since we’ve been rehearsing it before filming next month and then I’m just a first soloist for the rest of the time. It’s better this way anyway. This is the exact arrangement I’m going to having at Berklee. I’m thankful to get but my academic advisor sends me an email like every other day with updates. My inbox is dying.”

You guys sat down in your seats, finally moving to be next to Ricky.

“That still means we get to come watch you perform at Saltwater, right?”

“Yeah, you are looking at Coraline Jones in our fall production.”

Before your friends could celebrate you, the pep rally started much to your relief. You were still getting used to being the center of attention without losing the ability to breathe. Part of the reason you weren’t so prepared to be the lead in a feature film. A small film but still… The first Twilight movie was an indie film.

At least you didn’t have time to overanalyze that because the dude who played Coach Bolton was at the pep rally? You and Ricky rolled your eyes and sighed at the same time with the announcement of High School Musical 4 being filmed at your school. Just why?

Of course all the students were cheering no matter what, hoping that filming would mess with classes a little. You had a little fangirl moment when they announced one of the new stars of High School Musical 4. Mack and Dani.

Kourtney played Dani’s TikToks over and over again when you guys were at camp. Hopefully she could act because her TikToks seemed so nice. And Mack? Well you couldn’t help but squeal a little when they announced him.

Your friends looked at you causing you to laugh. “You don’t understand, I had one of the biggest crushes on him when I was little.”

“Me too!” Gina said with excitement. “Mark and Spark was my comfort show.”

“You know, he was supposed to be the first male lead in the movie I’m filming and my heart stopped until he cancelled of course.”

“Well now we know why,” Ashlynn said before focusing back on the stage.

You leaned your head on Ricky’s shoulder, having felt him tense up behind you. He relaxed when you grabbed his hand for a brief moment.

“You know I don’t mean anything by it. It was just a stupid celebrity crush,” you whispered.

“Celebrity crushes are still crushes.”

“Well then it was a stupid little crush. Is that better?”

“Yeah,” Ricky said with a squeeze of your hand.

You made a note to stay at Ricky's for a late dinner later after ballet rehearsal just to make sure he wasn’t still jealous. This relationship really was new territory for the both of you. But that would have to wait because now it was time for a second surprise in the drama room. You were getting real sick of surprises. And super sick of the security guard trying to block access to the drama room because of “filming”.

“Ahh!”

You all turned at Kourtney’s scream.

“Corbin Bleu?”

“Oh great,” Ricky muttered.

“Okay, okay. I deserve that a bit. But I am here to make amends. I know that documentary wasn’t what any of us expected.”

“Seb isn’t talking to me.” Carlos pointed out.

Ashlynn nodded along with him. “Yeah and Big Red is in Cairo for six months.”

“I hear you but we’ve found a way to make it up to you.”

“Uh, who’s we?” you asked with a raised hand.

You heard footsteps before you saw the people attached to the noise. You couldn’t believe it. Standing right in front of you was the original cast of High School Musical. Honestly, Corbin might have actually gotten you guys the best apology gift ever.

Featured extras in High School Musical 4? That was sick! So was everyone character development. You had to admit that you didn’t see Troy and Gabriella being in couples’ therapy… because you thought they would’ve broken up freshman year of college since they were such an on and off again relationship. The entire class was giggling uncontrollably at the prospects of being together on set.

Kourtney raised her hand. “Well, if the movie is going for authenticity casting a drama class to play Ms. Darbus’ drama class then Mack and Dani should consult us. The real life kids of East High.”

“This is why she’s the smart one,” someone said as you all high-fived.

Apparently, the OG cast thought she was brilliant as well because it didn’t take them any convincing. She was immediately assigned to Dani. You playfully shook her shoulders to let her know you were proud of her.

“Do we have any volunteers for Mack?” Lucas asked.

“Right like someone who grew up loving his tv show. Or two someones?”

You tried to back out of being Mack’s guide but it was too late. You were stuck co-guiding with Gina. All you wanted to do was focus on movie rehearsals, ballet rehearsals, your relationship, school, and drama club. That was a lot of things. Guiding Mack was not on your list of things.

You acted like that wasn’t the case when you went to go see the superstar, putting on your best smile. Your eyes went wide at an almost naked man getting his calf measured.

“Oh my,” you and Gina said at the same time.

Mack looked over. “Can I help you?”

You let Gina take over as you tried to look everywhere but at Mack, feeling embarrassed and more awkward than usual.

“We are so sorry. We are real students here, only one credit on IMDb so far but anyway, we were assigned to give you a hand.”

“Yeah, I’d love to know who assigned you to interrupt my costume fitting.”

“No. That was our bad.”

“Yeah,” you offered up. “If we had known you weren’t dressed we would’ve come way sooner before school ended… Soo-sooner because you’d have clothes on. Not whatever you l-look like you, like you’re thinking of. Oh my goodness.”

“Would you mind turning around?”

You and Gina looked at each other before doing just that. “That was probably the first thing we should have done.”

“Okay. So, I do have to ask,” Gina started. “Do you still keep in touch with the dog from the show?”

“There were seven of them and they all retired to a farm upstate.”

“Oh that’s so swee—”

“Uh, G,” you cut her off. “That means they aren’t, um, currently pr—”

“It means they’re dead.” Mack had put on a shirt so you guys could turn around. “The farm is heaven.”

“Well that ruined everything,” your friend muttered. “Okay, we’re going to leave now and we can all pretend we never met.”

“Oh, I’m way ahead of you.”

“Good luck on the movie, Mack. Hope you break a leg, literally.”

“Good luck with your lives, superfans.”

You felt your face get hot as you marched up to him. “Her name is Gina Porter and can I just say, I’m so glad High School Musical 4 took you in. Acting alongside you in Sweet Pea Americano would have literally killed me… G-Gina, why did I just say that?”

“I’m proud of you.” She swung her arm over your shoulder so you guys could leave. “Even with anxiety, you always stick up for your friends.”

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Come on, let’s go see if Ricky got a smoothie for us at the food truck.”

While you were mortified at your actions, Gina proudly recanted the entire story to Ricky who echoed her sentiments. You guys went you separate ways. There was no carpool with Gina today. Carlos called her over for an emergency meeting of the Finer Things Club at Kourtney’s house, leaving Ricky to drop you off at Saltwater. You guys stopped at a salad bar first so you could get some real food into your system.

“Oh, Gina finished the lyrics to the song.”

“Already?”

“You know her. Once she gets started on a mission, she can’t stop until it’s complete. Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course, do you have the lyrics on you?”

You handed Ricky your phone to look at the screenshots of Gina’s song journal. Your harmonies were rough and sometimes the melody fell off but the two of you had fun singing all the way back to the car.

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking me up?” you asked him as you leaned into the driver’s side window after getting your bags from the back of the car once you guys reached your destination. “Because we don’t get out till eleven and Mrs. Porter said it was fine for her to pick me up since Saltwater is between Kourtney’s house and ours.”

“It’s fine, baby, I like picking you up.”

“Okay. Oh, don’t forget. Gina’s driving tomorrow morning.”

“I can’t believe she got a car.”

“I can’t believe she got a license.”

You said bye one last time and headed inside for you ballet rehearsals. While you were dancing, Ricky was doing homework, and Gina was laughing as she got into Kourtney’s room. Ashlynn and Carlos were already there and Kourtney… well, she was meditating at the edge of her bed. While, Ashlynn had nearly forty missed texts from Maddox. Gina so had to tell you about that when you and Ricky came over for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Her smile faded at the announcement that Kourtney wasn’t sure about doing the school musical or not. She wasn’t sure if Dani was the best thing for Kourtney. She especially wasn’t sure when her friend suddenly became supper eager and chipper to answer her phone call. Kourtney put Dani on speaker after the others swore to be quiet.

“Hi, so I was studying you. Not in a creepy way but I’m really trying to get into character as a real East High drama student.”

Gina made a face when Dani suddenly stopped the speak pretty harshly to the driver taking her to the airport.

“Anyway, you’ve got that X factor, Kourt, and I want to help you grow your footprint. But I’ve been looking through your post and to be honest I’ve noticed something.”

“It’s the honesty for me,” Kourtney said with a nervous lilt to her voice.

“If I’m going to show you exactly what it’s like to grow an audience and you’re going to do the same for me as an East High student, I want you to tell me everything you know about Ricky Bowen.”

Gina bit her tongue as her other three friends stared at each other with suspicious looks on their faces. She got strange vibes for some reason but didn’t want to act on what could be nothing. Besides, she promised you two that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone. And how could she tell Kourtney not to mention Ricky to Dani if she didn’t ended up revealing something?

~~

You looked down at your phone to see a text from Ricky.

I’m still on my way, baby. Don’t worry, I’m stopped at a red light. I’ll be there in like 10 minutes. I wish your rehearsal didn’t end so late so we could’ve stayed up cuddling.

You smiled at the text before sending a little heart emoji, nothing that would require Ricky to look down at his phone after the light turned green. You ruffled around your bag to get your water bottle, reaching for your phone again when you felt the familiar vibration of a text. Another one from Ricky.

This red light is long. Do you want to get McDonalds after this?

You shook your head, deciding it was better to just answer him in person. A groan left you mouth when you felt the vibration again. That light wasn’t going to be red forever, if he was texting while driving then you were going to scold him because that could seriously inju—

Why was Mack now following your Instagram?

(part 15)

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[therainbowwillow]

EPIC / Odyssey / Aeneid crossover plot that has been bouncing around in my head for like a week:

So I really want an AU crossover of the Odyssey (with Epic canon mixed in) and the Aeneid in which Aeneas actually catches up to Odysseus by mistake rather than just trailing him endlessly as they both wander around the Aegean and they’re forced to get along to escape some Peril™️.

The way I’ve currently got this mapped out is that Odysseus fails to throw baby Astyanax off the walls of Troy despite the prophecy that he’ll grow up to (apparently…) ruin Odysseus’s life (AU-ing Epic canon). Somehow, they both manage to survive up through arriving on Calypso’s island (except I cannot conceive of a way in which the only person who survives out of Odysseus’s entire capable, adult crew is a three-year-old, so I guess this is also a Some People Live AU.) Anyway, they get there, Calypso’s got them trapped, it’s been a number of years, maybe there’s some horny crew member who spares Odysseus from Calypso’s advances by having *consensual* relations with her, etc.

Meanwhile, Aeneas has also been wandering around (in search of future-Rome) but as in the Aeneid, he’s taking forever because the gods are kind of unclear with their initial instructions (and also he keeps getting distracted… cough cough Dido). Hera, still needlessly furious with Aeneas for the crime of being Trojan, gets him blown off course again, except this time, he and his whole fleet wind up on Calypso’s island, the “no one leaves, no one comes” rule only broken because it was divine intervention that got him there in the first place. Initially, he’s ready to throw hands with Odysseus (and what remains of his crew), but Astyanax who is like 9 or 10 by this point and is aware of his Trojan heritage (the gods *did* say they’d make it known either way—Odysseus tells him to spare him the pain) figures out what’s going on and gets them to stand down, mostly just because all the Trojan survivors are so stunned that he’s still alive, apparently being treated well, and really does look a whole lot like Hektor that they give up on fighting for a moment. Odysseus and Aeneas forget the spears and have a brief yelling match in which Odysseus is accused of kidnapping and defends himself by begrudgingly telling Aeneas about the prophecy, which earns him some respect from the Trojans. It takes courage (and maybe some stupidity) to take the risk Odysseus is taking.

Aeneas (& crew) being stuck in the island with Odysseus (& crew) doesn’t really make anything all that much better for anyone because they’re still very much stuck on an island. Astyanax befriends Aeneas’s son Iulius (who is a few years older than he is) and learns a little more about Troy and his own biological parents. Calypso is very pleased that she has more boy toys than ever (and also hot women I guess because Aeneas’ crew isn’t all male—they’ve also canonically got female Trojan refugees with them, although a bunch of the ladies do decide to stay behind on an earlier stop on the journey).

Athena still hasn’t made contact with Odysseus for like 9 years, but has started helping Telemachus ward off the suitors. I think I’d probably give Telemachus a mix of his Epic & Odyssey characterizations: he’s very concerned about protecting his mom but also kind of weird & angsty about his dad, who he sort of believes is dead but can’t quite commit to that belief. Athena starts feeling kind of bad about not doing anything to bring Odysseus home (because even if he is a hubristic dumbass sometimes, Telemachus deserves to get to know his dad!)

Meanwhile, Aeneas’s divine patron (and mother) Aphrodite does *not* suddenly abandon him (even though their relationship is consistently kind of weird). She shows up, learns that her son (and also a whole bunch of Greeks??) are stuck on an island, and discovers that Calypso is very resistant to the idea of letting them go. While she tries to work out a way to get her kid out of Calypso’s clutches, she also starts to feel a little bad for Odysseus who may be the lying bastard who sacked Troy but is also stunningly loyal to his loved ones and as the goddess of love, she’s gotta respect that.

And so begins the unexpected friendship (maybe more like business partnership…) of the century! Aphrodite and Athena (who finally goes to check on her ex-friend) take inspiration from their favorite mortals and strike up a truce. With some shenanigans (specifics unclear), they manage to get everybody off the island.

Aeneas agrees to follow Odysseus to Ithaca because his fleet will need to restock to continue their wandering towards future-Rome (and also because even though Odysseus is the lying bastard who sacked Troy AND got Aeneas’s wife killed, he’s been good to Astyanax and having known the kid’s biological father personally, Aeneas thinks Hektor would want him to repay the good deed somehow.

There are probably some shenanigans in here about the fact that now that they’re traveling together, they have to deal with the wrath of Poseidon (incurred by Odysseus) AND the wrath of Hera (“incurred” by Aeneas) on their way to Ithaca. They make it (perhaps down a few more crew members) after making a brief stop in Phaiakia.

There’s no disguising the landing an entire fleet of ships on Ithaca, so while Odysseus would’ve liked to have some tact while dealing with the suitors (who Athena and probably also Aphrodite have informed him of), there isn’t much hope of attempting to sneak around… it’s just all out war.

I’m not entirely sure what I’d do about the (Epic canon) Astyanax prophecy, but here’s what I’ve got: Astyanax (and Iulius?) are left behind on the ships for their own safety while the suitors are slaughtered but manage to sneak off to try to help. Neither one of them is familiar with the palace, so Astyanax is carrying a torch to navigate the halls (in which Odysseus has extinguished all the existing torches to catch the suitors by surprise). They only manage to get inside and get their bearings by the very end of the fight. They’re attacked by the final remaining suitor, some guy who managed to escape the initial attack. Terrified and furious, Astyanax drops his torch and draws a sword he stole from the ship. He manages to kill the bastard using the fighting skills Odysseus taught him in their mostly for fun ‘family bonding activity’ sparring matches while they were stuck on the island. The dropped torch starts a fire which burns up a small portion of the throne room—including the throne itself—before one of the adult combatants swoops in to put it out.

So… “[Astyanax] will grow from a boy to an avenger” is true because he avenges his adoptive father’s honor by killing one of the suitors (the prophecy never says *who* he has to avenge). He’s “fumed by rage” at what he’s overheard of Odysseus talking about the suitors. He burns Odysseus’ house and throne, albeit by accident. And the biggest stretch… leaves Odysseus with no one left to save because by killing the final suitor, he takes the final action toward “saving” Penelope and Telemachus before Odysseus can. I’m not sure what to do with the saying goodbye to Penelope and Telemachus bit though. Perhaps in this AU, refusing to obey the gods’ order to kill Astyanax is at least partially behind Odysseus winding up stuck at sea for ten years so he has to “say goodbye” to them—at least for a while—“because of” Astyanax? Odysseus still gets to choose whose blood is on his hands: the suitors’. (If anybody has better ideas for thwarting the prophecy… do tell.)

(Also! I think Tiresias would rehash the Astyanax prophecy to Odysseus in equally vague terms. Something about the palace on fire and a boy come to fulfill his gods-given fate? I see your palace, flickering with flames…)

Anyway, Odysseus & family get their happily ever after (except Odysseus has a lot more explaining to do—gotta explain to his wife how he picked up an extra son along the way while remaining loyal and why half the survivors of the opposing force from the war that separated them in the first place are now staying in their home for a few days. And why the throne room is in desperate need of repair due to fire damage…)

Aeneas & crew eventually find future-Rome (and since they’ve struck up a semi-friendship with war goddess Athena, the war against Turnus & gang winds up being a lot easier. Maybe Pallas gets to not die tragically and Aeneas actually manages to fulfill the “sparing the conquered” bit of Roman Mission as it was laid out to him in the underworld by not murdering the defeated Turnus in cold blood!)

There you go, Homer and Vergil (and Jorge). Now (almost) everybody gets to be happy! Yay!

[hydrangeyes]

Unnamed

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit Nov.8.2023:

*Looks everywhere but at you* it..it was going to be pwp.

Botw link x male lynel hybrid

Warning: kinda slow burn, romance is there????, it is, courting, violence, slight misunderstanding, belly bulge, big dick, cum play, ass eating, blow jobs, pet play, overstimulation, nipple play/light torture, somniphilia, crying, light angst, public sex, voyeurism, switch link, switch oc, updated as I write lmao, this is pretty slice of life tbh, just with porn, ruts/heats, This is some wild shit, Wow google search please don’t 

Are you telling me lynel's exist and someone hasn't once thought "maybe 👀 these centaur babes can get it?" Cause I honestly don't believe that.

================================================

Chapter 1: I love Chabi, I feel like she would be a gremlin.

Note: Puuuuuure self-indulgence. Like listen my brain went brrrrrrrrr, this is for fellow monsterfuckers

Traveling after fighting Ganon all at once was rather...fun. Maybe it’s because he went straight to the source of evil and somehow lucked out. And now don’t have a sense of urgency to get to that end goal. The collecting of his memories happened right after as well and by then the princess herself wanted to truly rest up before traveling with him.

He didn’t like the thought of leaving her behind, but he felt a little more at ease that at least she would be staying with Purah for the time being.

Link shivers as he tugs up the fur around his neck. Snowfield was feeling extra chilly for some reason.  He moves a little faster, shuffling through his pockets as he ate one of his emergency peppers. Imagine his relief when he sees the stable just up ahead with a few of the tiny town’s stacked together houses.

“Ah, link!” A voice calls to him once he steps in. The tavern/horse stable wasn’t too packed thank goodness but there was a familiar face. Chabi grins waving at the surprised Hylian.

Chabi and he became pretty good friends after the handful of times Link has saved her as well as traded monster parts with her. She mainly stuck to warmer places and just barely the edges of goron city. It seemed she was acting as an in-between for Kilton and fellow travelers. But being so far from the usual land she would circle in?

“Chabi? A bit far from the base aren’t you?” Link said softly with gesturing to the whole thick woven sweater she was in. Giggling chabi smirks puffing out her chest. “Call me the official Monster tradesman! I’ve started traveling a little further out for those rare materials. Kilton even gifted me with some weapons that’ll protect me better!” she starts up, gesturing him to join her at the little table she was sitting at.

“And so I thought why not start the one place I know the boss doesn’t care to visit. He doesn’t like the cold, he says it makes his feet clammy.”

Link holds back the many questions that pop up in his head about that. Best to store that away with the other questions he has under Kilton’s name. “I..see. So Snowfield was your first stop or?”

“Hm? OH no hehe. Rather some interesting rumors brought me here.”

Feeling like this will be a long one Link waves over a barmaid to buy some spicy curry and hopefully a few fish skewers. Maybe buy a bed for the night as well, just in case, the others get taken.

---------------------------------------------------------

“-And so there I was! Hearing about a lynel wandering between the mountains and near the ruins! And oh I just had to see for myself, maybe ask for a few loose fangs or toenails you know?”

“No. I don’t know.” Link muttered into his drink. It felt like hours since she started this story, before finally getting to the point. He learned way more about how to skin mokoblin guts than he wished. Anyway- “I doubt they would give you a fang but what’s this about it traveling to the ruins?” As far as Link knew most lynels up here were feral or didn’t live anywhere close to the ruins.

“Well, which ruins now that I think about it…” Link asks as Chabi finishes up the last fish skewer. 

“Mhh, Well I say ruins but really it’s the forgotten temple.”

Now that got his attention. What could a lynel want in that guardian-ridden place??? Link frowns leaning back o think about it. That temple of any was the most dangerous and well...Link couldn’t help but feel a little responsible since he didn’t exactly break down the guardians still in there. He was still getting the hang of dealing with those, much less the mobile ones.

The thought of those stalkers since a bone-deep type over shiver. “Why don’t you let me check out if the rumors are true or not. I know you can take on a hoard of bokoblins but even when they’re going easy on you lynels are tough, and rather approach you than vice versa.”

Chabi yawns pouting a bit, sleep probably just now getting to her. “Mm, I suppose. If you can leave them a welcoming message to trade with me please?” she half pleads and half demands. Link nods getting up for a stretch, absolutely happy that she didn’t stop him. He was ready to collapse on the nearest free bed. “I will, soon as I get up I’ll head on over okay?

“Link if I wasn’t so devoted to the boss, I could just kiss you right now!”

“Please don’t.”

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End Notes:

Basing a lot of this on my 3 playthroughs of botw. And I played them chaotically, as well as just overall making some things up. I kinda want there to be a lot more people in the botw world, like stables have small villages of their own (tarrey town size at least).

 I have a whole dnd esc Au for this where most monsters have their own tribes etc. but lynels, Lizalfos, and maybe wizzrobes interact with humanoids and trade with them. Except for maybe wizzrobes, I feel like they’re more steal your shit and bargain it back, type people.

This issss planned to be very long like, there’s a whole courting arc I have in mind, If you’re here just for the porn, it’ll be marked.

Anyway, this will all probably be unedited and sloppy. It’s for fun and the chapter lengths will probably vary as well. Idk why but I like the thought of the monster appreciators hooking us best friends (or partners) and link is just there, rethinking his life choices. 

But again real talk I right this whenever my mind gets staticy so please excuse any grammar issues, the many run-on sentences, etc etc 👍

--------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: O-oh someone fucked a Lynel.

If there's one thing he loved about the snowy areas it was waking up to fresh snow in the morning or nights.

Breathing in that crisp air and starting his journey. Link rubs his cold cheeks, face a bit flushed.

But Chiba woke him up first thing and he will admit he was also wondering about this traveling lynel. The locals (at least the ones up) all mentioned how the lynel kept to themselves, and only came to buy directly from the farmer.

Makes him wonder if the lynel was checking out the area to maybe start up a new home. Shaking his head Link focused on climbing the hill and not sliding off. 

[flojouno]

now i’m thinking about hair. i never had black friends growing up. didn’t have a black classmate until freshman of high school, then moved to a different school with no black students in sophomore year. hell i didn’t even have black online friends. now i have more black online friends (i don’t leave the house so black irls is tricky) and even THEN im not very close to them.

so my experience with my blackness has been centered by my family. my dads side is the worst cause my grandma hated black hair (given she grew up when our hair was called nappy and messy). she always complained when i wore it naturally. insulted me and constantly questioned when i’d get it “fixed”. my mom is from the islands so she appreciates it. she doesn’t understand how americans do their afros tho (she kinda just wets the hair and add oil and call it a day. no shaping or anything). i think my sister and cousin are the only ones who know how to take care of our hair! they both keep theirs really short.

i really like color and longer hair. i despise wearing wigs and weaves aren’t for me. it’s either dying my natural hair or braided extensions/other styles like locs or twists etc. i prolly do have more options but my mom does my hair.

it’s so fascinating to think about how other people get their hair done. friends always tell me about how they got their hair cut, dyed and fixed up in salons and barbers. it’s so fascinating and it’s like. a few hour process!! or less!! mine is like a whole weekend thing. never is a one day thing. never. cut the braids shorter, take the braids out, detangle then wash well, and prepare to braid. that alone takes most the day for me. plus my mom does it alone 9/10 of the time. she works on her feet all day so she needs more breaks, we don’t have good spots to have us both sitting while she does it, and taking out my own hair is awful and nearly impossible. do you know how tiring it is to fiddle with the top of your head for hours? that’s a whole workout right there! i can only do so much!

by the time my hair is washed and detangled again i’m exhausted. so is my mom. we usually continue it for the next day. preparing my hair and then braiding. i never learned to braid when i was younger so learning now isn’t ideal on my own head. but my mom and sister help which im so grateful for. i used to be so tender headed when i was little but my mom stopped yanking my hair as hard and now i can handle it better. a lot of my memories are sitting in the chair in front of my mom, me sleeping or on my laptop/listening to music on my phone, while my mom watches her shows. i have thick tight curls and my hair is getting longer each time i take out my braids (which is good since my hair had grown super slow my whole life. i blame all the relaxing and straightening). so getting each braid in is hell.

of course it’s also being braided with the fake hair. whatever color i wanted, and now im getting more creative with the styles! making bangs or putting beads or leaving the ends open or braiding all the way down with charms and stuff. it’s the best way i can do to express myself! it’s my hair! it takes time and effort and work to get my hair done. i’m stuck with it for a while so i better like how it ends! having my hair braided makes my life so much easier, especially since i’ve had depression since 10 years old. it’s been a struggle to take care of myself at all, so having the huge HUGE possibility of my hair getting knotted and matted and dirty was also right around the corner. braiding has been my savior.

not sure what this post is but i like talking about my hair :3 don’t get a lot of chances too. i never realized how much my hair means to me.

[clambuoyance]

Do u want to talk abt ur ocs..... I actually followed you initially bc they seemed so interesting and silly and I want to know more if you feel like sharing :)

I still can’t believe some ppl follow me for my ocs bc it’s usually for my fanart so this is really nice to hear! I have a couple stories/universes but the main one I’ve been…developing (it’s on and off) since I was like 13/14 is about these two kids named Keiko and Rolin!! Im still doing a lot of world and lore building but the main gist is that Rolin is a teenage boy turning 16 who returns to his hometown to live with his aunt and meets a strange young girl named Keiko (debating on making her 10-12 idk she was originally 10). I won’t go too much into like Lore stuff but she has like..my own version of clairvoyance. They are kind of opposites, with Rolin being introverted and jaded, and Keiko being loud and optimistic but they are both silly.

I think it’s been said before but the whole driving relationship of the story is the two of them going on adventures throughout the city and solving mysteries while simultaneously becoming family and finding a real home within each other and the people they’ve met and learned to love 😚

Now the story is centered around Rolin and Keiko, but a big focus is on the cast of characters that fill mostly Rolins life. Mira and Artie were friends with Rolin when they were kids before Rolin left with his mom, and all three grew up and have been living their own lives, but when Rolin comes back they get a chance to reconnect (with Keiko’s help). Valoryn (Val) is also new in town, and befriends Rolin and Keiko. This is just a messy fast doodle of them I have better art in my oc tags🙏

Some old sketches

The other major cast is Rolin’s family, and Rolin has always been Asian so as I worked on the story his family kept getting more and more relevant especially with a major theme of the story being about the connections you have with people in your life so like I can’t leave them out. And I’ve never settled on an Asian ethnicity until recently where I was like I might as well make him Filipino so I can base his family off my own🫡 Cousins (both blood and not) that are years older than you but treat you like siblings and give u silly nicknames 🫶

Now Diana (or Deedee) is one of those characters I’ve had for a long time, and I made her because I liked those laidback mentor figures in anime (like Qrow from rwby) and wanted a laidback lady one 🤷🏻‍♀️ she also has some Misato from nge influence. She has always been written to be a mentor figure to Rolin and Keiko, and at one point I think I was going to make her his actual aunt but stuck to her being just a cousin so I could write about her relationship with her mom 🫶 Unlike her brother Darius, she does not live with her mom and Rolin has to go out of his way to meet her.

And Rolin’s parents’ story aren’t the main focus (they aren’t really present themselves in the main story) and it’s mostly just flashback stuff but they r silly and sad and I love drawing them 😼

I could go into more detail but that’s an overview of some of the characters