#and thats the most loving thing ive heard from someone in months. from a woman ive known since august

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Just found out my two siblings are in my mom's will, but not me. Also my grandpa has told the entire family about his engagement. Except for me. Also my dad told my siblings that he and my mom bought a plot of land. Can you guess who they haven't told?

[cecelianonymous22]

(TADC Spoilers!!)

A weird realization i made watching TADC ep 2 (cried my fucking eyes out) is that like

Hazbin and Digital Circus are both extremely Tumblr pieces of indie animation, but in such completely different ways

Hazbin kind of tries to appeal to every "Tumblr demographic" lets just say

The musical nerds, the queers, the people who need a Sexyman for every media they watch, people who like engaging in serious/controversial topics, etc etc

Which in itself isnt bad but as with a lot of things in Hazbin, it really wasnt carried out well

But with Digital Circus, the intended audience feels a lot more specialized yk?

Sure, it has bright colors with toy-inspired characters and silly hijinks, but the intended audience isnt for children or (staying on the whole Tumblr audience thing) isnt for the lucky younger teens who dont know what Amino is

But it doesnt try to welcome every corner of this platform, which is why there are negative reviews: because Digital Circus just isnt made for the majority of people

It's made for the "underdogs" so to speak, the kind of minorities that feel like their voices aren't heard

Sure the standard "Oh this is just a Tumblr cartoon" genre implies queerness, for one thing, which is in the TADC with Zooble (my beloved) and i love their constantly alternating pronouns

But more importantly, what kind of got to me the most, but it's made for the lonely

It's made for those who feel alienated because of themselves and/or their circumstances

Which i think is what is so great about the main character being an autistic woman, not just for the rep, but because Pomni's experience is so intrinsically neurodivergent. All despite the fact that paradoxically (to someone who isnt ND), she is the voice of reasonable confusion. She doesn't understand why everyone else is going along with Caine's shit when they all know they are just people trapped in a digital hellscape who don't remember their past lives.

Its a deeply existential thought, and I'm so glad that in the most recent episode, she has an outlet for all of this existential dread and panic. I cannot understate how moving it is to see Pomni not only pushing past her own problems, but actively utilizing them to help someone else struggling with the same sort of (essentially) nihilism

Not to mention the end of the episode (still trying to keep it vague because the ep just came out), where Pomni realizes that hey, she might not be alone

Idk man

It just speaks to me so much, especially because i have my own sense of deep-rooted existential dread that has gotten so much worse over the past few months

And also because it reminds me of 2-S from Ultrakill, special interest go brr

But yeah

Late night rambling

The hazbin comparison was mostly just because ive been really interested in watching Hazbin reviews lately, and just seeing how these two "Tumbler medias" compare in their themes and audience

Im gonna post this before i delete in the morning because i need to get over my fear of posting random shit on tumblr!! Thats whats its for!!

Anyway i want the gator keychain now

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Nathalie’s Gift Part 1

She sat up in the middle of the night.

She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She knew it was late, likely an hour or two away from sunrise.

She examined her surroundings until she saw him. There he was, sleeping in the chair at the end of the room. Gabriel Agreste, her boss, her ally, and the one she had fallen for, was asleep in a chair several feet away.

Ever since the defeat of the guardian and the plan to use Chloé to get the miraculous, she had been far too weak to be as mobile as she was in the past. Gabriel had set her up in his quarters, despite the mansion having dozens of rooms. He had reasoned that Adrien would never walk into his room without permission, so that it would never become apparent how her condition was deteriorating.

His logic wasn't entirely unfounded. She was constantly teetering towards the brink. Overuse of the once broken peacock miraculous has left her bedridden most days. Despite the miraculous no longer having such a negative effect now, she knew the damage was already done. 

Yet he hasn't discarded her, was it out of loyalty that he felt the need to care for her despite being more of a burden? Did he perhaps start to feel something more for her as this whole debacle went on.

The later of which was unlikely, she knew better than anyone that Gabriel was far too loyal to his wife to entertain such a notion. So long as he believed there was a chance of bringing her back, he wont stop. She could never be Emilie Agreste, the love of his life and mother of Adrien. She was Nathalie Sancoeur, trusted assistant, and partner in crime. 

She forced herself out of bed. Moving quietly as to not awaken the sleeping mogul.

She snagged her tablet, and the peacock miraculous that was next to it.

She moved to the office and sat in the office chair. Perhaps she could get some work done while she was awake. And should she feel the need to speak to someone, the blue bird Kwami would be a fitting companion.

She started looking through work but her mind kept wandering to one thought

So long as Emilie could be brought back, he could never love me. I could never replace her.

She coughed.

“Not that it matters, I am on borrowed time as it is.” She commented to herself.

She stopped herself as she let her own comment sink in.

She was on borrowed time.

With how she was now, how much time did she have, a few months? A year? Maybe a decade if she really tried to take care of herself. But it wasn't like she was sick with a normal illness. But would Gabriel be able to get the miraculous? Even with everything they had, Ladybug and Chat noir always seemed to best them at every turn. At the rate things were going, she would likely end up in a glass coffin as well, and if Gabriel fails...

In that moment of worry. An idea that could fix everything slipped into her brain.

It was a long shot sure, there was a possibility that everything will backfire. But she needed to do it.

She exited out of her work and went into the security feed using her tablet. She disabled the secret camera hidden in the lair below.

She started making a few preparations.

_______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel awoke to his phone’s sudden vibrating.

He quickly shook himself and looked at his phone.

“The alarm was tripped. Someone damaged Emilie’s chamber!”

The fashion mogul rushed out of the room. His thoughts were firing through his brain a mile a minute.

Who found the lair? Was it one of the heroes? A spy? Who would dare desecrate my beloved wife’s container?

The fashion mogul made his way to the secret elevator.

A purple Kwami emerged from the pocket of the rushing fashion designer.

“Is something wrong master?”

“It appears there is an intruder in the secret sanctum.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Im going to show them the error of their ways. Nooru, Dark wings rise.”

Gabriel transformed into the villainous hawkmoth, His face covered by a silver mask, and is candy cane color scheme replaced with a purple suit. 

He was armed and ready to fight should. 

As the elevator reaches the bottom. Hawkmoth dashes out as soon as it opens.

He would strike quick, and take care of the intruder before they realized who they were facing.

As he approached, he stopped dead in his tracks. As he noticed someone standing infront of the Glass container.

“Hello?” The figure called out. Her voice having a familiar tone that caught the butterfly villain off guard.

As his rage diminished, he felt his vision clear and noticed the shattered glass on the floor, along with the glass container that was now broken.

“It... It can't be...” Hawkmoth’s words escaped as he realized who was standing in front of him.

“Can you tell me where I am? I woke up in this... thing over hear. Im not entirely sure what’s going on.”

“Emilie... is that you?” Hawkmoth questioned, unsure if this was a dream, or if by some miracle the love of his life was indeed back from the abyss.

“How do you know my name Mr. Masked man?”

“Nooru, dark wings fall.”

The blond woman watched as the costumed stranger revealed himself.

“Gabriel? Is that you?”

A tear spilled from his eyes as he rushed to her. 

“You're here. How is... How is this possible?”

“I... I dont...” She started to stumble as she walked towards him. Her vision was starting to fade and the world was spinning.  

Gabriel quickly moved to catch her as she suddenly fell.

He felt his heart panic, but he could hear her breathing. She was simply sleeping.

“Perhaps it would be best to take her out of her.”

Gabriel walked to the elevator, his wife in his arms, asleep yet very alive. 

His mind had 1000 questions, but in this moment, he didn't care. He was holding the woman he loved in his arms again, and thats all that mattered.

___________________________________________________________________

“Gabriel!” She cried out as she woke up.

Sunlight was beaming from the window, it was clear it had been bright out for sometime.

She felt sheets underneath her. What she expected was a hard floor in a weird sanctum but now she felt the comfort of a room that felt familiar.

She heard the door open and looked to see her husband carrying a tray.

“Oh good, you're awake.” He spoke with soft relief.

She looked at the tray.

“Are those.”

“Lemon tea cookies. Your favorite.”

She smiled at him as he brought the tray to her bedside. Allowing her to snag a bite of one of them.

“So good!” She said as she finished her first cookie. “I feel like I haven't eaten in years!”

Gabriel’s expression faltered. She could see the pained expression as she said that.

“Gabriel... how long was I gone?” Her question verbally stabbed him.

He took a moment to process the curious expression on his wife’s face as she continued eating the tray of treats.

He looked down at his hands.

“A year and 6 months.”

She gulped down her cookie hard at the revelation.

“Wow... I've been gone for so long... Adrien must be taller then... ADRIEN!”

Emilie grabbed her husband by the collar.

“Where is Adrien?!”

“He’s at school” Gabriel answered.

Emilie blinked.

“School? You mean he is no longer being homeschooled?”

“He still has some lessons, but he was insistent on trying to go to school like other children his age. It was more ideal for him to go out than for him to be stuck here most hours of the day.”

Emilie processed that information.

“I see, I am surprised you said yes. You always said you hated public schooling.”

“I still believe the school systems are... inferior, but Adrien’s grades haven't faltered according to Nathalie. So I don't bother intervening.”

“My boy has grown up so much since Ive been gone. Wait, is he dating yet? Please tell me I didn’t miss his first crush!”

“Emilie, I am sure that you didnt miss anything. You and Adrien can catch up once you are rested and he is back from school.”

Emilie took a deep breathe.

“Okay, You're right. It will be nice to hear everything from him.”

She looked around the room a bit and noticed the vase full of roses.

“Oh, fresh roses. Gabe-y you cheesy romantic.”

Gabriel felt his cheeks go pink.

“It was... the room needed some color in it.”

“Much like those red pants you insist on wearing.”

“They are fashionable.”

“If you were in charge of candyland perhaps.”

Emilie loved to tease him about is fashion calls.

“Who is the fashion designer here?” He said with a mock stern tone.

“Speaking of fashion, that costume that you were wearing. That didn’t look like the peacock miraculous.”

Gabriel’s tone shifted to genuinely serious. He figured the time would come to answer that question.

“It is the butterfly miraculous. After your...departure. Nathalie and I investigated the temple where you and I had found the peacock miraculous. We discovered a new miraculous, one that wasn't damaged.”

Gabriel felt a twinge mentioning Nathalie. When he had rushed to bring Emilie up here, he felt guilt and relief that his assistant wasn't in the bed. He would have quite a difficult time explaining that one, even if nothing happened.

“So with that miraculous you were trying to find a way to bring me back.”

“It was a means to an end.”

Emilie processed the information she was told.

“Gabriel, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“No more miraculous. None.”

Gabriel blinked.

“But...”

“Those jewels are nothing but trouble. It has only caused our family suffering and pain.”

Gabriel was surprised by the claim, but he knew she was correct. The miraculous have been quite the curse on the family, despite the powers they gave.

“It will take time for me to stop using it outright, there is a... situation with how I’ve been using it. Your sudden appearance and the disappearance of Hawkmoth might be suspicious.”

Emilie looked at Gabriel intensely.

“Hawkmoth? Gabriel what did you do?”

“Well... in order to try an bring you back, the butterfly miraculous wasn't going to be able to accomplish that goal. So the only way I could bring you back with certainty was to attain the ladybug and Cat miraculous.”

The former actress listened as her husband explained how he became a super villain for the sake of getting the jewels.

“Unbelievable.”

“I admit, explaining it makes it sound a lot worse than it actually is. I planned to fix any damage caused once I got the jewels”

“And what if people found out your identity!? You would have been thrown in prison and left our son an Orphan!” Emilie pointed her finger in his chest.

“It was the only way I could think of to attain the miraculous. How else would I have been able to confirm the miraculous were in Paris?”

Emilie was ready to let him have it. But she felt herself calm down. She had to admit, in a weird way, it was quite romantic. Something out of a tragic romance novel.

“I should be angrier with you, but I know if the situation was reversed and I had a way of bringing you back, I would have likely tried the same thing, albeit in a smarter way.”

Gabriel felt a bit of relief seeing his wife not so cross with him.

“So we figure out how to orchestrate your ‘Defeat’ and then we say good bye to the miraculous for good.”

“We will plan it out when you are completely better. Though this does raise the question. How are you back?”

Emilie pauses, she tries to think back.

Protect the Agreste family... no matter what.

She heard that phrase echoing in her head. But she couldn't figure out why. Who said that to her. Why is everything so fuzzy?

“I don't know... I remember hearing glass shatter, and a flash of blue. But the next thing I remember was... seeing you.

Gabriel looks at her, he could tell from her eyes she was telling the truth.

“I will look into that later. In the meantime, you should rest. I will check on you in a few hours.”

He moves the empty tray from the bed.

“Wait.”

Gabriel stopped.

“Get Adrien here. I want to see him now.”

“Dear, he is in school. It will dismiss in a few hours. Besides you should rest.”

Emilie got up from the bed.

“Nonsense. Ive been resting long enough. I am sure Adrien can miss a few hours of school. I want to see my baby boy.”

Gabriel wanted to find some way to dismiss her request, but he knew he couldn't say no to her. She was far to headstrong and determined... and man did he miss her.

“Okay, I will have his driver go an pick him up.”

“You aren't going to pick him up yourself?”

“Emilie I have work to do. Besides that is why we have...”

“You can take some time off to bond with your son. Seriously, you need to stop putting up walls Gabe-y.”

Gabriel took a calming breath to compose himself.

“Very well. But do use this time to rest.”

She moves to kiss her husband.

“I promise.”

Gabriel’s expression turned into a soft smile.

“I will be back with our son shortly.”

Gabriel left the room to go pick up Adrien.

Emilie smiled as she moved to vase of roses. She picked on up and sniffed it.

The rose in her hand began wilting and shriveled up.

She looked in the mirror.

“Everything went perfectly.”

______________________________________________________________________

End of part one

(Should I continue? Let me know your thoughts)

[lifewithabrokenmind]

So a lot has changed in such a short amount of time since I started this blog, ive disconnected from the world of tumblr and ventured away into the world. I got to spend the Christmas holidays with my son for the first time in his life! So that's something extremely special for me.

But with that being said I nearly didn't make it last year, My mental health deteriorated immensely. I was self medicating with alcohol and trying to cope with a mentally abusive girlfriend who eventually turned physical. One night I had a big day working out on my aunties property and fell asleep on the lounge watching a movie. She innocently woke me up and helped me to bed, cute right?

Well that all of a sudden changed, as I quickly fell back asleep after being physically exhausted and not needing to take my sleeping meds which is unheard of in my life for the past 6 years. She shook me and woke me up. She had forgotten to turn the TV off in the lounge room. I barely woke up and mumbled "no baby, can you do it im exhausted and I fell back asleep instantly". The next thing I know I have this extreme stinging pain in my back. Turns out she cracked it and hit me as hard as she could. (I'm not a big guy, I'm 5'8 and weigh about 65kg she was shorter but considerably heavier than me) and I dont know what came over me but I lost it. I jumped up out of bed and started raging. (I don't get angry easy either, I believe everything can be solved through conversation and no confrontation, because confrontation makes my anxiety play up really bad) I'm yelling the absolute house down, saying things along the lines of "I can't fucking believe you" "what is wrong with you" kinda things but obviously swearing and crying. She chased me around the house stopped me from leaving or entering certain rooms while screaming at me to slap her back and get even, this goes on for 30 minutes or so and after being called a piece of shit every day for the past 5 months and everything else because we lived in a smallish country town where work was scarce, and I was finding it hard to find work. She had a job which she was lucky to obtain outside of her normal profession so it gave her some sort of "im better than you complex". So that was it she was in my face again she turned around dropped her shirt and screamed at me to slap her back and I did. I felt horrible the moment I did it. I fucking hate violence, I cannot stand the thought of someone being hurt by my hands as I have been beaten most of my teenage and adult life. She started crying, saying she can't believe I did it back that im the worst person in the world just going nuts at me and she then lunged at me with her nails going for my throat, she had stilleto (or however it's spelt) type nails you know the ones that come to a sharpish point if asked too? So my first thought was to protect myself I grabbed her hands and somehow managed to spin her around and bring her back against my chest where she swung her head back and head butted me (luckily I have a hard head and jaw) I then pushed her onto our bed as I did not want to cause her anymore physical harm she has then bounced off the bed in some weird motion that almost seemed faked and fell on the floor. She then rang the police on me.

I was mortified, I begged her to stop. But that was it, that is when my fate was sealed. I grabbed my shoes, wallet phone and put on my winter coat as it was late autumn at the time. I left into the night and headed to my "safe spot" a place near a lagoon with lots of ducks and geese, I sat there for an hour I heard the siren and saw the police car go past. I cried most of the time, I felt ashamed, sick, useless, a complete piece of shit of a human. I started thinking of how to end my life that night, and I figured it out. I knew what I was going to do, so I headed to the pub, or bar depending on where you are from in the world. I knew that hanging myself sober was an extremely difficult and painful task as I had tried it before. I finished off about 6 or 7 beers at the pub, full strength of course. I rang my grandmother and asked her to stay at hers over night explained the situation. She agreed, that woman has helped raise me and will always be the woman I hold the highest in my life. So I get there she sees that im a bit intoxicated, we have a talk she asks if im okay, and I breakdown a bit she makes us both a cuppa tea and we have a cigarette together before she gets up and goes to bed. At this point I'm just waiting for her to get comfy and doze off so im on my phone my slight buzz is wearing off so I go for a walk up the road to the local pub and have a few beers there. I think I drank another 6 or 7 and decided to go for a walk to the softball/baseball oval to look at the stars and prepare myself for what I was about to do, I had already put rope aside and a pen paper and a torch to write nan a note and tell her to ring the ambulance and police and send them to an exact spot. She wouldn't wake up until after 9am the next morning. So I'd been on the oval for quite some time and decided it was time to go do what I need to do. As I left and was crossing the road the police came out of nowhere and spotted me. I was wearing my favourite NRL teams jersey at the time, so easily spotted. Some would call that luck, but it wasn't. I was arrested and thats when I lost my freedom for 3 months.

Jail was hard, I saw people stabbed and bashed beyond recognition. Drugs and the mental health issues a massive portion of these indigenous and white men had. It was insane, and remember im not a big guy so that was even harder. My first 3 days there my cell mate and I were chillen in our cell then a guy came in and beat the shit out of him and took all of his belongings blood was everywhere I hadn't seen anything that violent in quite some time and I was physically shaken. A few of the boys noticed and came down to talk to me about it all and told me I was fine. I explained my situation with my diagnosis of autism and bpd. And they respected me for being honest and took me under their wing. So long story short jail became a bit easier and I started to get desensitised to the constant aggression and thieves and drug users and all the bullshit that comes with jail. The whole time my now ex was writing me in jail saying how sorry she was and she wish it was different and she would be there for me when im out and that was lovely until I got out. That's when this all takes a turn.

And I think im going to have to do this in parts. Because there is a lot of details behind this. I dont know if anyone will even read or whatever but let me know if you have and I'll try and keep this a regular thing.

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

The Other Girl (Jungkook X You) (ONESHOT)

A/N: Its a bit short but I hope you will like it <3

MASTERLIST

A/N : And also, I’m trying a new thing here and you are in no way obligated to do it but if any of you like my stories and want to give some support, why not buy me a coffee? ☕💜

Jungkook and Rissa.

They are the ultimate couple that everyone want to be. That everyone envy. They are the definition of perfect, romantic, lovable. Everything you want to be as a couple. And everyone always thinks, no, know, that they will end up together forever. There is no way one of them would love someone else, theres no way one of them would leave the other for anyone else.

Y/N smiles and looks into Jungkook's eyes who staring back at her. And she is sure as hell that no one could have ever thought she would be the one who would steal's Jungkook's heart from Rissa.

Thats right, shes the other girl.

Jungkook has always been her dream guy. She has had her eyes on his the moment he step on stage on his debut day. But Y/N is just a trainee, and as Jungkook and his group grew more popular, she knows her chances with him are slim to none. Y/N's heart broke to pieces when she found out that Jungkook also has a long time childhood girlfriend whom he loves so much. Everybody favorite's couple.

Rissa.

It doesnt help that Rissa is the definition of a perfect girl. Beautiful, soft spoken, intelligent, funny, kindhearted. Everything a girl wants to be. And every guy wants to be with. Everybody tells Jungkook thats hes lucky to be with her. That he should hold on to her forever.

They are the perfect couple in everyones eyes.

But all that never once stop Y/N from continuing to crush on him, falling in love with him. Once she debuted herself, Y/N slowly make her way to be friends with Jungkook's hyungs, his friends and slowly, very slowly, make his way into Jungkook's heart.

And now, here she is. In Jungkook's embrace, lips locked with each othet like theres no tomorrow. They have been seeing each other in secret for almost six months now, and it was the most wonderful time for Y/N. The best moments of her life.

"I love you Kookie," she giggles and hugs his neck.

"And you know I love you too baby," he smile and leans in to kiss her. A long, deep, passionate kiss. "I have to go," he pouts. "But I promise I will call you before you go to bed?"

Y/N pouts playfully.

"Do you really have to go home to her, Kookie?"

"You know I dont want to baby, but you know I have to. For now. Okay?" Jungkook smile and stroke her hair. "I love you Y/N,"

"I love you too, so much Kookie. We are going to be together for real, soon right? You promise right? That you will choose me?"

"You know I do baby. Just give me some time yeah?" Jungkook smile and kiss her one last time before leaving.

Y/N pouts alone. Thats the promise Jungkook keeps on giving her ever since they got together. That he will leave Rissa. That they will be an official couple. That he never loves Rissa. That he loves her so much more.

All those promises, they are nice to hear, but deep down, Y/N knows that Rissa will always be Jeon Jungkook's first love and he will always, always love her.

/////

"Hey bunny, you are back. Hows practice?" Rissa smiles and gives him a quick kiss.

"It was okay. Just the usual. Hyungs bickering, Jin hyung fell and all thay," he laughs. "How about you? How was your day princess?" Jungkook smile and kiss her back.

"Same old, same old. Nothing interesting like yours, Im sure," she giggles. "I cooked your favorite for dinner today bunny. Why dont you shower, since you are all sweaty and smelly, and we can have dinner together?"

"Yah, you like it when I'm sweaty," Jungkook grins and winks, making her blush. "But yeah, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be down in a bit okay princess?" Jungkook smile, gives her another kiss and head to the bathroom.

As her usual routine, Rissa went over to where Jungkook throws his clothes and collect his dirty laundry for washing. And just like every single day since the last few months, theres the same perfume smell lingering all over his clothes. A women's perfume. The same one. And of course, stain of lipstick in random places on his clothes. She doesnt want to believe it. Its so unreal that Jungkook would do that to her. But it has been months. Theres no denying it anymore.

Rissa sighs.

Jungkook is still cheating. And she dont know how long her heart can pretend otherwise

/////

"How is the food bunny?" Rissa smile, looking at the man sitting from across of him.

"Delicious as always princess," he smiles and to show he meant it, shoved a large amount of food inside his mouth, making his cheeks blows up like a chipmunk. Rissa giggles. Shes going to miss this mam so so much.

"Im glad you love it bunny. You deserve the best after a tiring day at work,"

"I dont know what I do to deserve you princess. Im the luckiest guy in the world," Jungkook smile and hold her hand from across the table. Rissa stop chewing. Something in what Jungkoom said hit a cord, and it just hurts. So much.

"Jungkook?" Rissa looks up at him.

"Yes?" Jungkook frowns. Its unusual for her to call him by his real name. "Is everything okay?" Jungkook is confused. They were happy just a second ago. What could have happened?

"You know I love you very much right?" Rissa asked, eyes softly looking into his.

"Of course I do know princess. Whats wrong? Anything bothering you? Want to tell me?" Jungkook stops eating and frowns heavily.

"And you. You love me right Jungkook? Just as much as I love you?"

"Rissa, princess. You already know the answer. Of course I love you. You are my life. Now, can you tell me whats going on?"

"Nothing really," she smile and looks down at her plate, slowly playing with her food. "I just want you to know, that it has always been you for me Jungkook. No one else. And Ive never wanted or look at anyone else either. You are my dream come true, and I'm sorry..." she sniffles.

"Sorry? What for? Hey, why are you crying princess?" Jungkook stands up and walks to her side, squating down to her level, startled by her sudden tears.

"Im sorry if I bore you. If my love for you isnt enough. If I am not what you wanted. What you still wanted. Ive tried my best to love you. Im just sorry Im just simply not... enough," she sniffles harder, looking down at her lap.

"Hey, what are you even talking about? Not enough? Where did all this even came from?" Jungkook smile and lifted her chin to look at him. "I love you. Only you. Forever and always right? You are ny everything. You are everything I wanted and everything I could ever dream of. Theres nothing to worry about. I promise. Okay?"

Rissa nodded weakly, knowing everything he said is nothing but empty promises.

They make love that night. Love so passionate, that one could never thought that theres a third person between their love. But there is. And even after a passionate night together, Rissa will never forget the fact.

/////

It has been a few months since that night. And the same thing still happens every single day. Late night texts, whispered calls when Jungkook thought she was sleeping, perfumes and lipstick stain on his clothes... its even worse now because Rissa now knows whos Jungkook is actually cheating with.

Enough is enough. Enough time and chances has been given. Its time. Its time to finally do something about it.

/////

She looks at her. Her beautiful face, with a tired smile plastered on, but still beautiful nevertheless. Y/N can tell right now why Jungkook loves her. She never gets mad, she never raises her voice at him, whenever hes tired, mad or upset, whenever he yells at her for no reason at all, she will say she understand. Her love for Jungkook is unconditional, and Y/N is the reason why Jungkook is hurting her.

"Rissa," was all she could choked out as she looks into her eyes.

"Hello Y/N," she smiles. "Its nice to finally meet you in person. Come, have a seat,"

Y/N feels her throat dries up nervously. Not really sure know what Rissa meant by that. What she being sarcastic? Sincere? What is it? Why did she ask to meet her? Does Jungkook knows about this?

"I- uh yeah, its nice to finally meet you in person too. I-I have heard so much about you," Y/N smiles nervously.

"I'm sure," she laughs. A beautiful sound. How can she still smile brightly at her? Knowing that she has been with her man for so long? Y/N is sure Rissa knows.

"I-uh.."

"Im kidding!" She laughs. "Dont worry Y/N, you dont have to be nervous. I dont bite," she laughs again. "Lets just talk  is girls. Yeah? I think we have so mich to talk about, dont you?"

Y/N nods again, nervously.

"Listen Rissa. Jungkook and I..." Y/N stops her words, not knowing herself what she should be saying. Apologize? Beg her to give Jungkook to her? Ask her to share? Explain to Rissa her feelings towards Jungkook? She has no idea. No idea at all what to do or say.

But lucky for her, she doesnt have to think further as Rissa cut her off.

"Im leaving Jungkook,"

Y/N looks at her, mouth slightly gapped open. Out of all the 1001 scenarios in her head, she never expected this to come out from Rissa's mouth. Y/N had imagined Rissa would yell, scream, hit her, slap her, laugh at her, throw a tantrum, everything anf any possible reaction, but not this. Never this.

"What? Rissa you-"

"Im leaving him, and thats my decision," she smile and take a sip of her tea. "Dont get me wrong Y/N. Iys not that I hate him, or stop loving him. I love him. I love Jungkook so much. More than anyone can ever imagined," she smiles softly. "We have been together since we were teenagers. We grew up together, and I always thought me and him are destined to be together till the end of times,"

Y/N clear her throat awkwardly. She wish the earth would just swallow her right now. The pain and hurt in Rissa's voice pierced right through her heart. She has caused another woman pain. When did she become this? What has she done?

"But I cant make something that doesnt work anymore, work... I tried. Oh god, believe me, I tried," she smile again, but a sad one. "You know... I have known about you two for the longest time,"

"Y-you did?"

Rissa laughs, a beautiful one.

"Of course silly. I think everyone knows," she smile again. "You two are always together. And when you two are together, you guys dont really keep it subtle. And it doesnt help how nervous his hyungs were went I asked them where Jungkook went when I surprise him at practice," she giggles but Y/N knows Rissa's heart is breaking. Memories with Jungkook flashes through her mind. The kisses, quickies, secret dates between shows, practices, asking his hyung to lie for them eventhough they know they didnt approve. All those days that they thought were subtle enough and kept a secret.... every little thing they did, her happiness, all at the expense of this beautiful girl's broken heart. What has she done?

"But I thought, maybe Jungkook just need a distraction. We have been together for so long, and in his line of work, he meets pretty girls like you every single day. Hes a man afterall. So I thought, maybe after he gets it out of his system, he will come back to me. That our love was still intact,"

"Y-you knew... and you are willing to let him cheat?"

"I love him Y/N. Ive never love anyone. Hes my everything, my first and I thought, if being with someone else makes him happy, makes him come back to me eventually, Im willing to," she sighs. "But I was wrong. I dont think his love for me is the same as before,"

"Thats not true Rissa! Jungkook loves you! I know he does!" Y/N raises her voice. She dont know why shes trying to protect Jungkook's and Rissa's love when Jungkook has been everything she wanted. With Rissa gone, she shpild be happy. Jungkook is all hers. But something doesnt seems right. Their love is too beautiful to destroy.

Rissa smile softly and stroke Y/N's hand across the table.

"I know you want to believe that Y/N. Maybe so that you wont feel so bad. But truly, its okay. Havent you heard the saying, if you love two people at the same time, choose the second one. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second one? You are the second one Y/N,"

"B-but Rissa. Jungkook-"

"Stop," she raised her hand and shakes her head. "Stop trying to change my mind because I wont. Y/N, I think I owe it to myself to leave. I have done everything to love Jungkook and I dont think its fair for me to share his love when I have given my everything to him," tears finally falls down her soft cheeks. "I finally found the courage to leave, to let go of this fairytale that I wanted so much to come true and finally give myself something I deserve. Someone I deserve. I believe that I deserve someone who will love me for all that I am, and who will give everything he has for me, just like I will do for him. And thats no longer Jungkook," Rissa slowly wiped down her tears and takes a deep breathe.

"So, do me a favour yeah? Love him, take care of him and show him the same kind of love that I have been giving him all these years," she flashed a small smile as she took of the ring from her finger and placed it on Y/N's open palm. "This... Jungkook gave me this when we first met. Its a promise ring he said. We fell in love at first sight," she laughs. "Stupid, I know. But we were young and he promised me, that one day, when hes finally made it when he found everything hes chasing all this while, he will marry me, he will propose with a proper ring," she laughs. "Jungkook is always so dramatic, dont you think?"

Y/N looks at the ring and without realizing, tears has streamed down her face too. Jungkook truly loves her. And Rissa, shes willing to let go so that hes happy. Thats how strong their love are. And here she is, a monster! A home wrecker! What has she done? What has she done?!

"Hes all yours now Y/N. And thankyou for making me realize my worth," she smile one last time and stands up. Without looking back, Rissa walks out, leaving her painful love story for a better future without Jeon Jungkook in it.

/////

"Jungkook?" Y/N walked into their messy apartment after walking aimlessly for a few hours, thinking about her earlier meeting with Rissa. Furnitures are upside down everywhere, vases are broken, books are strewn across the floors. Y/N quickly try to look for Jungkook, hoping hes alright, not sure whats happening.

"Kookie??" She ran to their bedroom and found Jungkook in the dark, at the far corner hugging his knees. Y/N immediately went over and sits besides him, hugging his shoulder. "Kookie? Are you okay? What happened? Did we get rob? What happened? Tell me? Are yoi okay?"

"S-she left. She left me. She left...."

Y/N feels her heart beats faster. Okay, Jungkook has found out then. Rissa must have moved out from their apartment.

"Kookie, baby....I-I know,"

Jungkook looks up with his tear strained face.

"Y-you knew?"

"I-" Y/N paused for a moment. Not knowing if she should proceed. "R-Rissa... she asked to meet me earlier today..."

"She what?" Jungkook immediately perked up and turns to look at Y/N. A part of her feels hurt that Jungkook cares so much about Rissa, that he showed it, especially in front of her. Didnt he say that he loves her? That he wants a future with her? That he will leave Rissa for her? Then what is all this? Shouldnt he be happy instead? Y/N shakes the thoughts away. This is not the time to think about herself. Right?

"She asked to meet me Kookie... and I didnt know what its for until we met," Y/N looks into his eyes whos looking at her, confused. "Rissa... she uh.. she gave me this," she slowly and reluctantly gave Jungkook the ring. Jungkook just stare at it, as if its some poisonous snake that he shouldnt touch.

"Kookie?" Y/N whispered slowly. "Y-you okay?"

He jolted from her the sound of her voice, like someone shocked him and grab the ring, surprising Y/N, and threw the tiny ring across the room.

"She thinks she can just leave me like that?! No fucking way! We promised forever! She promised she will be with me until forever!" Jungkook suddenly screamed. Y/N was taken aback, both by his sudden outburst and whats hes saying. Doesnt Jungkook remember who is with him right now? Doesnt he remember that he promised her forever? That hes supposed to love her, to be with her?

"Kookie p-please calm down," Y/N pulled him tight into her embrace, trying to calm him, immediately making Jungkook burst into tears. "Im sorry Kookie. Im sorry, Im really, really sorry,"

Im really sorry I fell in love with you.

/////

Y/N knows. Oh she knows Jungkook is only staying in the relationship with her, being with her all because of guilt. Just to prove that he made the right decision, that he didnt regret what he did, that he didnt regret he cheated, that hes happy with her. Because, if he didnt... if hes not happy... then he just threw away Rissa, his love, the greatest thing that could have happened in his life, for... her.

The other girl.

Y/N knows, everytime Jungkook thinks she wasnt looking, she saw him staring blanklessly out the window. And Y/N knows hes thinking about her. Her smile, her laugh, if shes thinking of him too. But Y/N also know, that she isnt. Y/N knows that Rissa have moved on. That she would probably have found another man that would love her woth all his heart, make her happpy. The kind of man she deserves. A man that would appreciate her. Why would she think about a man so stupid, a mam who broke her heart like its nothing, so idiotic, a man who would threw out a girl like herself, for a girl like her...

The other girl.

After Jungkook calmed down that day, he asked Y/N to tell hin everything that Rissa told her. Because Rissa left without saying goodbye, without saying anything. Jungkook came back from practice to find all Rissa's things gone. Her stuffed animals, their photos together, her shoes, her books in the side table. Everything. All traces of her... gone.

And thats when Y/N knew how much Rissa was hurting from what she did. Maybe she didnt show it, she didnt say it, but it shows. Y/N also finally knew how much Rissa loves Jungkook. Because she cant even bare to see him one last time. She cant even say goodbye to him. Because she knows she will give in. She will give him another chance and he will break her all over again.

And Y/N finally knew how she has ruined a love so great.

And as years goes by, yes, Y/N and Jungkook are together, exchanging little smile here and there, a dull how are you at the end of the day instead of laughter and love. But Y/N knows, from the dying glint in his eyes whenever he looks at her that whatever they have is not love, never love. She stole away his love story, his one true love, hoping that she can be a greater one, a better one. But she was wrong. Dead wrong.

But is she the only one to blame? Jungkook fell in love too, didnt he? He betrayed their love too? Didnt he? Both hers and Rissa. So she guess they are both to blame. The dark storm in a beautifil love by a beautiful girl.

And for hurting her.

For making her cry.

For breaking her heart.

For making her loose the love of her life...

This is what Y/N deserve. To forever be with the man she loves, the man she long for everyday, the man she wants to love her back as much as she loves him, but he never will.... the man who will forever see her as.. the other girl.

[year-of-yes]

Rabbit Hole

There’s nothing that those of us with ADHD love more than falling down the rabbit hole of a new hobby. I’ve decided that my new rabbit hole will be vaginas. Queer vaginas. 

I’ve been exploring my sexuality more thoroughly this year, prompted by quarantine and my last year of grad school, to really lean in. 

I’m a serial monogamist and find myself with free time - my boyfriend is studying abroad for the next year - and we’ve decided to open up the relationship. Given that I’ve always been in relationships, or spent most of my pre-tinder years woefully sexually repressed, I’ve never just gone balls to the wall in terms of prioritizing MY sex life. For me. I’m a notorious people pleaser and just the thought of telling a guy on a first date that I was only interested in casual sex would have made my skin crawl 5 years ago.

But no more!

The first few months of my new found freedom have been a veritable smorgasbord of men WAY out of my league. Something about knowing I’m in an open relationship allows guys to relax and just have fun with intimacy. (Men are the worst.) Ive never been on smoozier dates, with nicer wine and hotter guys in my life. Should I ever become single again, I will probably just continue to pretend to have a boyfriend, because DAMN. I’ve started keeping an album in my phone of their tinder profile pics just so when I’m old I can look back and remind myself that yeah, I FUCKED. 

Part of this new exploration has been coming to terms with the fact that yes I like women, and yes, I’m not attracted to ALL women, and yes I have mostly hooked up with guys but YEAH, I was definitely bisexual. And that I should stop being afraid and just DO IT.

But like any baby dyke on her first foray into the unknown, I was like a traveler with a brand new passport leaving the country for the first time, blinking out of an airport to realize that I didn’t speak the language, and oh yeah, I was dressed like a tourist. 

Despite the wisdom in taking things slow, my ADHD impulsivity had taken over and like any good hobby worth hyper focusing on, I was determined that I would learn by DOING. I wanted to have sex with women. Now, preferably.

I thought hooking up with a woman for the first time would be as easy as matching with someone hot on tinder - after all, thats all it really took with guys. I casually started following more queer women on instagram, tiktok and twitter, paying attention to what I could learn, assured that on any given day, I’d run into someone at the grocery store or match with a babe on tinder who would sweep me off my feet. Because now I was ACTIVELY looking at women! Not passively checking them out!

WRONG. After months of falling for dozens of matches who never messaged me, or conversations that never led to plans, or plans that fizzled out, I pulled on my big girl pants and decided that I was going to be a woman of action and get.myself.on.a.date. I’m hot goddamn it! I was going to MAKE SURE they knew I wasn’t just another straight girl bored on an app. I WANTED TO EAT PUSSY.

 it might be time to introduce that in addition to my very noticeable ADHD, I also have much less noticeable autism. All that business about girls presenting differently than boys means that others rarely pick up on it - and I don’t feel the need to mention it unless I think it will impact our relationship, like with a friend or coworker. I’ve learned that mentioning it on dates doesn’t really make things easier, but thanks to years masking, I can pull off a first date no sweat. Continuing on to dates 2 and 3 can be trickier, but I’ve learned how to navigate those waters with men who, suffice to say, are rarely intuitive enough to pick up on anything. In fact, I would venture a guess that most people on a date with me consider me very extroverted. Nevermind that I’m too mentally exhausted to leave my room the day after a date. I talk a lot, occasionally too much. I often look bored or bitchy because resting autistic face is more exhausting to change than resting bitch face, so I make up for it by being overly chatty when we hit on any of my special interests.

I have NO idea how this will translate on a date with a woman. My instinct is to say that I am overthinking and likely it will feel like any other date, but then I’ve always found women harder to read than men, and found it harder to see how they read me. I was also terrified that flirting would feel different - what if I was giving off a friendly vibe, not an I-want-to-fuck vibe? Is it typical for women to fuck on a first date? Should I touch her to let her know I was into her? Or did the fact that I had gotten all the way from a swipe right on tinder to an actual date suffice in itself to let her know? These might not be the sorts of questions a non-anxious neurotypical person might ask themselves, but they are the questions that I had slowly built up an arsenal of information for over the last 14 years in my interactions with men - information that was no longer applicable. So I set about seeking out this information in a way familiar to most autistics learning information that came naturally to others.

Google! I realized that I know very little about the actual gay scene despite having queer friends. How do lesbians flirt? How do you pick one up? What is considered too forward? And how in gods name did you eat pussy? Because goddamn it I intended to be good.

I had heard the term lesbian tiktok thrown around and decided to see what was what. Mostly I found videos of 20 year olds with flawless skin making lewd tongue movements that were supposed to be sexy. After probably 40 cumulative hours of trawling tiktok I realized I had a type: androgynous girls who were beautiful despite dressing down and not wearing a ton of makeup. Then I had a real heated soul search with myself. Was I attracted to them because I…wanted to be them? Liked the way they looked and dressed because I too aspired to cool androgyny? A few more days on tiktok and I put my guilt behind me: I definitely had a type and who gave a fuck if it was sort of self indulgent.

I also refused to go back to a time when I was bad at sex. I consider myself a solid sexual partner, keeping guys generally out of my league coming back for more. Thats because I refused to feel self conscience naked, was an excellent kisser, an active participant, vocal about my desires and (most important for men) my ~enthusiasm,  and understood the power of delayed gratification. 

I realized that while I could read articles about eating pussy all day long, it would ultimately come down to what the other girl was into. I’m a proficient masturbator and know what I like others to do to me - but I wasn’t yet accustomed to picking up on the cues that women give about what they liked. I resolved that the first time I was with a girl, I was going to lean in to the delayed gratification. Focus on kissing, touching, necks, ears, breasts, navels etc. so by the time I came face to face with a vagina it would be so wet I’d have my work cut out for me. In a little vagina shaped cake. Why not just ask them, you say?? Because! I’m extremely awkward and don’t want whoever she is to know that I’m woefully inexperienced. Fake. it. til. You. Make. it. 

It was like being a horny teenager again: desperate for interaction but unsure how anything worked. I was googling phrases like “bisexual style” and “how to eat pussy without getting tired”. I read hours of r/actuallesbians, Tumblr posts and go magazine articles. Mostly I realized that I would be able to skirt through to some degree: I was a solid 6-7 on the attractiveness scale, willing to be aggressive and outgoing no matter how awkward it made me feel, with a roommate who could make sure I looked stylish and a can-do attitude.

Now all I had to do was find a girl I wanted to fuck, who wanted to fuck me too. 

[genderfluid-promotion]

Hi! I have just learned about the term genderfluid, and I dont really know if thats the explaination for some things I feel - I don‘t know if thats what I am, or if the things I experience really fit this term. I am a female, but as a kid I always had short hair and I only wanted to wear boy clothes. I once put a dress on at like 7 because I wanted to, but it felt like I was trying to pretend to be a girl - even though I was one? I also pretty much only had boy friends, and loved soccer and playing in the dirt. I also liked horses, but not nearly as much as the other girls - when school started most of them had backpacks with ponys on them, mine had fish. xD I started wondering if maybe I was a boy during the ages 6 - 10, because I was asked constantly if I was a boy or a girl. I always said I was a girl, but kids can be mean - the next question would be pull your pants down and prove it, you dont look like it.

I knew that at 12 years old I would have to go to a new school, and the school was pretty known for bullying. Out of fear to be a target I let my hair grow out from age 10 on, and when I started at the new school it was long. I still dressed kinda boyish, wore a lot of plaid shirts, but I also wore pink things sometimes. I actually forgot that I didn‘t grow my hair out willingly, I talked to my mom about it a few months ago, saying that I couldnt remember what changed that I wanted long hair - and she said I didnt actually want to, but that I was scared of the bullying. Ever since that young age of 6 I went through phases questioning if I was a boy, because being a girl just didnt always seem to be right! However I‘m not sure if it didnt feel right just because hobbies and clothes are so strongly gendered, and I just wanted to have short hair, boy clothed and my soccer ball - in peace, without the questions. So being a boy would have been easier in that aspect, because no one would have questioned anything about me in that case. But because I also wasn‘t so sure that I would want to go trough actual transitioning to a boy, I realized that I probably wasn‘t transgender. There were times where I compeletely forgot about this worry of mine, and then suddenly I would look into the mirror, or see or hear something, and a weird feeling would start to creep up again - am I maybe a boy? Now I‘m 20, and I have been pushing these thoughts away for a while. I came to the decision that I dont really care, Im not that bothered by my female body that I feel the need to change everytime I see myself, and I dont feel horrible if someone calls me a she/woman/girl - its just, some days I wish I didnt have breasts because they annoy me, and I would like to be flat so that some of the men shirts I own would look better. However I never feel the need to have a penis, because thats as much as a statement as breasts, I’m fine with my vagina because it isnz showing in any way through clothes. Other days I like showing cleavage, some days getting called a she just leaves a bit of a weird feeling in my stomach. Sometimes I like make up, (Eyeliner most of the time), other days putting lip stick on makes me feel like a clown. These things are present enough in my life that the thoughts about what I am creep up from time to time, but they are not so present that its always on my mind. Sometimes my mannerism arent really female - around my female friends I kinda have always felt like the elephant, not moving as gracefully, not talking as softly, not sitting that woman like - my mannerisms just seem to be more men like then my other female friends, but they are more female then most of my male friends.

Because transitioning fully to a man is not an option for me (waaay to unsure with what I am, and also most of the times I‘m fine with my body I think) I just sort of pushed it all away. I also have never tried to embrace my „male side“ more - I dont want to be judged or to be asked questions if I suddenly show up with a baseball cap and a typical men hoodie. I also dont want everyone to think I am a butch lesbian, because thats the first thing people would think. I feel like if I could wear and behave however I wanted, and no one would care or ask questions, there would be days where I would wear a baseball cap and a hoodie, chewing gum and drinking a beer and just sit on my car, chilling. And there would be days where I would wear a dress, have flowers in my hair and have a picknick or something. So far I have only really lived the female side of this - and with clothing I kinda compromise, if I wear a male sweater I wear tight jeans or make up, to even it out a bit. Enough for people to notice Im probably not a girly girl, but not enough to make them look twice or to question my style or gender or sexuality.

Ive been thinking about embracing the clothes side of men a bit more, because I lost some weight and I‘m a little less curvy then before, so men shirts start to look kinda better then before. However, I am terrified to embrace any of this whole gender fluid stuff - what if I just surpressed being trans or something? Or if I try it out and after that it becomed unbearable to not be able to fully live being genderfluid? Right now I can deal with it - I would wish to embrace it more, but I can mostly handle not being really able to do so. I am afraid that this will change if I get a taste of it. Also I am kinda questioning everything in regard to gender - because if no one had ever commented on me looking like a boy, if not everyone around me had despreatly tried to put me in some box, I dont think I would ever have started to worry about all of this, I would have just been me. So maybe I am just a female but I’m not fitting the stereotypes that are put upon genders? Sexuality wise Im attracted to men, however I believe we fall in love with souls not bodies. Still most of the time I cant see myself being intimate with a women, but then suddenly some days I can - maybe pan? I think this whole gender topic didnt really bother me that much for a while because I was only aware of trans, and that didnt really fit me - so I just left it. Then I heard of non binary, but like I said mostly im fine, also I wouldnt want to be called they/them I think so that didnt really fit either. But now with this genderfluid stuff I heard of something that might fit me, so Im having a slight identity crisis right now to be honest.

I would just absolutely love to hear your thoughts on all of this - would you say gender fluid could be the right description for me? Or something else? Am I just insane? xD Do you know someone who experiences gender fluid similarly to me? Because most despriptions are that the change of gender is extreme and suddenly, and with me its more a way of expressions, clothes and weird feeling.

Sorry for the insanely long text!

It’s ok. Your gender identity is fluid. Non binary meaning you don’t identify as a man or women. Both non binary and genderfluid can coexists and you can identify as both. As for pronouns it’s entirely up to you. Not everyone who is non binary uses they/them pronouns. It’s not a requirement.

It would also seem you hardly have gender dysphoria since most trans people have it. It’s ok to identify as trans without having dysphoria, it’s not a requirement either.

But I do think genderfluid fits very well with what you are feeling. I recommend having a support group in case people are transphobic to you. However, since politics is a bitch, people will side with the transphobes so your only choice is to find solidarity with others who know and understand LGBTQ issues.

Thanks for the ask tho!! ☺️☺️💘💕💞💖💗💓

[wintersxsoul]

The Night We Danced

Summary: Two dorks in love that have to wait to get drunk to confess their feelings.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Maybe some language, drunk people and I think mentions of sex?? 

A/N: This is my entry for my dearest @writingsoftheloser 1k historical writing challenge! I got the Victorian Era, so I came up with this longass nonsense. I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback and reblogs are free and make me really happy and motivated <3

  Bucky Barnes was a dancer.

He sometimes had flashes of his old life in the late 30’s and 40’s, long summer nights dancing with beautiful dames, little Stevie by his side laughing and stepping in the ladies’ shoes. Everything was much more simpler, happier, but war happened and the dances turned into battles, the warm hands that he was used to hold became rifles and glocks. The jazzy tunes turned into gunfire, dates turned into risky missions and the thought of a long happy life turned into dust when he fell off that train.

Bucky Barnes stopped being a dancer to be a soldier, a spy, a deadly assassin.

They had taken all he was away, all his memories, his hopes and dreams. Everything was wiped but not his motor skills or knowledge. They turned him into the most efficient soldier, cold and calculating, his only motive in life was completing his missions. He had killed mercilessly, not questioning even once who was in front of the gun, he just knew he had to pull the trigger.

Everything changed the moment Steve Rogers, his best friend since childhood, found him 70 years after being used and tortured. Steve saved him from the claws of Hydra and gave him the opportunity to gain back his own self, to finally give his life meaning again.

His life changed drastically when he joined the Avengers, he could use his unrequired skills to help people, to save lives. He had his closest friends, Steve of course, Sam, Nat and then he met you. Once he was able to recover almost all his memories, he had a long heartfelt conversation with Natasha since she had suffered in similar ways. The brainwashing, the body killing training, the horrors of the Cold War and the cruelty of the Red Room.

You and Nat were inseparable, both becoming SHIELD agents the same year. You were a freelance hitwoman, both of your missions were to kill the same target. But before you could kill each other, SHIELD stepped in and rescued both of you, seeing your potential and the ability to do the missions other agents weren’t able to. When Bucky first came to the compound, you were away because your last mission went badly and it almost killed you, so Fury and Steve decided it was better for you to lay low for a while. Months went by and Bucky’s curiosity only grew, he really wanted to meet you, since everyone talked about you like you were an angel. When the time came to finally meet you, everything he ever heard about you was not nearly accurate to him. You were as much of a mystery as Nat, but unlike her, you opened up to him fastly, trusting him blindly. You both held each other on your worst nights and were also there for the other when you needed a good laugh.

You could have never imagined that the infamous Winter Soldier could be such an absolute dork with such a pure heart and soul. At first he was a bit sulky and moody, he was like a ghost around the compound, but months of therapy and help from his friends turned him into the man he was today, the man you loved deeply, even though you lied to yourself trying to make it seem like a platonic feeling. For years you remained as best friends, until the masquerade ball Tony organized for Natasha’s birthday.

“So, what are your plans for the party?” You asked Bucky nonchalantly while you looked for costume designers online. He looked up from his book and shrugged, he really didn’t know what you meant but he knew you would elaborate. You closed your laptop and placed it on your nightstand, all your attention on your friend now. You laid across the bed, resting your head on his lap. You were staring at the ceiling so you totally missed Bucky’s adoring gaze.

“Well, apart from getting hammered with Thor’s Asgardian alcohol, I don’t really know.” You rolled your eyes internally at his comment. You laid on your stomach so you could face him, your chin resting on your hands on top of his chest.

“Obviously you are doing that, but it’s not what I meant.” Bucky chuckled and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure about asking him to be your partner, maybe he was planning on going with someone else, maybe he wanted to go on his own. You cleared your throat while reaching out to fiddle with the laces of his hoodie nervously.

“Are you going with someone?” He frowned, realizing that you didn’t assume (like he did) that you were going together. Maybe you were planning to go with a date? He knew it had been more than a year since you had dated someone so maybe you wanted to use the party as an excuse to do so?

“What you mean with someone? I d-”

“You should ask Sarah from Forensics, I’ve heard she has a huge crush on you. She’s sooo soft and pretty. I have her number if you wa-”

“Okay, Y/n stop right there. I am not going with Sarah or with anyone else but you.” His eyes widened at his own boldness but he quickly found a logical explanation.

“I mean, we always go together to this kind of shitty parties we both dread. But if you are going with someone else is fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I just thought that maybe you wanted to go with an actual date and not your best friend.” He tousled your hair and you whined jokingly. He mumbled “dork” and you stuck your tongue out.

“My best friend is pretty cool and when she gets drunk the party starts, so I am not missing that for Sarah from Forensics.”

“Oh god James, and I am the dork? You absolute dumbass.” You shook your head in amusement and sat on the bed, putting your disheveled hair in a low ponytail. You slapped him lightly on the right shoulder and got down of the bed, gathering your stuff.

“I can’t stand to see that beautiful stupid face right now, I have to look for a fucking dress. You better wear something in dark red cause, you know it-”

“it’s my color” he mocked you using a high pitched tone of voice and laughed at the face of disgust you jokingly pulled off.

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you f-” His sentence was cut off by the bang of his door closing but you already knew what he said. You rolled your eyes and made your way to Nat’s room since you needed to organize shopping days and all that stuff.

-

Bucky Barnes was a dancer and fortunately he still had some moves, but waltzing was out of his league. He knew what a masquerade was of course, so the fact that he had to learn how to dance a completely different style was...frightening to say the least. He talked about it with Steve so they both were headed now to a masterclass while their dates were out shopping. Nat had asked Steve as her date because she wanted to go with his best friend. Their friendship was the most platonic you’ve ever seen and watching them flirt and banter was the highlight of your days. Nat was a fantastic dancer of course, she used to be a fucking ballerina, so she offered to teach you some moves. She was the only one who actually knew your feelings towards Bucky because you had confessed them one night you had drank your weight in vodka and when you saw Bucky’s text asking you to please be careful, you laughed and told her. You didn’t remember that conversation and when Natasha tried to ask you, she realized she shouldn’t bring up the topic until you were ready to believe it yourself.

“Ooof Nat, should I really buy this expensive dress?” You asked her while checking yourself out in the mirror. The dress was absolutely stunning, made of a dark red taffeta or a similar material, short sleeved and a beautiful v-neck, not very revealing but enough to make your babies pop. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt was puffy.

“Listen, Stark is paying for everything, that includes our dresses. So yes, you are going to buy it.” She stood up and lead you back to the changing room so she could purchase both of your dresses.

Steve sighed heavily at Bucky’s complaints. They’d been dancing for four hours straight and they weren’t getting any better, or at least that’s what they thought. Bucky really couldn’t believe he had been dragged into this mess just because he loved getting drunk with you under any circumstances.

“Come on Buck, don’t worry. You two will probably be too drunk to even stand, why bother so much in learning this shit?” Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged his friend on the shoulder.

“Listen pal, I wanna do this right. You know how much I love dancing so this is just an excuse to learn something new.” He could almost believe his own lie, but Steve knew better. He knew Bucky better than himself, so he obviously knew the unspoken thing that was going on between two of his best friends.

“Okay buddy, whatever you say. I just hope Y/n appreciates all this instead of laughing at you like Sam and Nat are probably going to do.” He muttered something to himself and left the room without saying a word.

“Fucking idiots, I hope they fuck soon.” Steve said to himself before turning around and smiling at the dance teacher.

“Let’s do this Janet, I have a very dangerous woman to impress tonight.”

-

“I really, really, really, really regret the day I gave you access to come into my room whenever you want to.” You told Bucky, who was laying on your bed on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. You slumped next to him and buried your face in the pillows as well. You really thought you looked like idiots but you couldn’t care less.

“Can we stay here? We can watch one of those victorian romantic movies you love and get wasted on our own.”

“You know I would love to, but Nat would kill us. Besides, you hate those movies.”

“I was just trying to persuade you Barnes, you don’t need to be so rude.” You stood up and opened your first drawer, pulling out the two masks you had bought throwing Bucky’s to his head and he responded with a fake “ouch”. He sat on the bed and looked at you amused, the small mask in his hands.

“And you have the nerve to call me rude. I already have my mask and I won’t show it to you until tonight.”

“Wow, sorry for thinking about you and your shitty memory, old man.”

“You know what Y/n? I’ll see you tonight before I throw myself out of that balcony.” You giggled at his fake tantrum. You really loved your friendship with Bucky, because even though you were always joking around each other, you had your backs. He was always there and so were you.

“You want me to walk you to your room?” He frowned at you but his eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say, but you said it before he could cut you off. “In case you don’t remember where your room is at.”

“That was one time Y/n, please let it go.”

“Never.” And with that said, he left. You giggled remembering the first night you two got drunk together. It was the first time Bucky had tried Thor’s alcohol so he was excited to finally get drunk after all those decades. He drank by himself almost three flasks and encouraged you to drink a bottle of vodka on your own, so at 6 am, you were stumbling through your room floor because Bucky had forgotten where his own room was, so he wanted to sleep at yours.

You took a last look at yourself in your mirror and placed the mask in its place. It was a shame that Bucky had decided not to wear the mask you’d bought for him, but his taste was pretty great so you knew it was going to be amazing.

When you reached the party the place was already full of people. Everyone was dancing to the slow melodies or drinking at the bar. You noticed that Tony had removed all the furniture from the room so it looked like a grand dance hall, the usual modern lamps he owned were replaced by huge golden crystal chandeliers, the windows were covered by thick curtains that looked like the ones European palaces had. The cream and golden tones of all the decoration gave a really regal look to the party, the soft glow of the candles in the bar and the sound of champagne glasses relaxed your senses.

You fixed your long silk gloves and sighed, moving through the crowd towards the bar, where Nat stood chatting with who you assumed it was Steve, Sam was behind the counter pouring alcohol to his half empty glass.

“You mind filling this lady’s glass?” Sam smirked and you winked at him. He raised his eyebrow under his cream and red mask and he took out a tall glass.

“What would the lady like to drink?” He rested both of his palms in the counter, looking at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Vodka on the rocks, s'il vous plait.” You heard Nat choke on her drink and Steve turned to look at you while Sam just poured your drink, a smile playing on his lips.

“Aren’t we starting a bit early, Y/n? Your date is not even here.” You shrugged at Sam’s comment and took the glass when he handed it.

“Since you all seemed so surprised with my drinking choices, I’m going. I need an unjudging friend right now.” You waved your hand gracefully and moved towards the centre, trying to find Bucky. After five minutes and an empty glass, you saw his bulking figure talking to some woman. You needed a moment to gather your thoughts because he looked absolutely sinful with the outfit he was wearing. The black pants marked all his muscles, specially his thighs, those fucking thighs that drove you insane and his ass...you shook your head trying to stop your mind. You needed another drink.

“Wow look who’s back and empty handed!” Steve said to the small group. You nudged him in the ribs and asked Sam for another glass of alcohol.

“Why are you this flustered Y/n?” Nat asked you when she noticed your flushed cheeks. You fixed your mask trying to hide your nervousness and failing miserably.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your three friends shared a knowing look and you rolled your eyes, finishing your drink in two sips and encouraged by the burning liquid, you went to where Bucky was. You could now see his whole outfit perfectly and your heart swelled. He was wearing a black ruffled shirt with a black and dark red embroidered vest and a black tail coat. His face was covered by a simple half Venetian mask, decorated with the same colors as the outfit’s. He was chatting with some agent you couldn’t recognize and you felt a pang of jealousy at how he was looking at her, smiling and touching her. At that moment you realized the alcohol was kicking in and that’s why you were having those stupid thoughts. You approached your friend and placed your gloved hand to his shoulder, indicating him that you were besides him and waiting for him to pay attention to you. You catched a part of the conversation and they were talking about one of the last missions the undercover agents did, so after a court nod from Bucky and a brief goodbye from her, his eyes were on you.

“Well, look at you!” He smiled at you warmly and you felt something flip inside you. “How did you recognize me?”

“Oh boy, you can mask that face all you want but you can’t mask those thighs.” You smirked and he started laughing at your comment, making you feel proud of your wittiness.

“How drunk are you already?” You brought your hand up between your bodies and pressed your thumb and index together whispering “a little” so only he could hear it.

“Lucky for you, I drank almost a flask, so that makes us dangerous already. Wanna dance?” He extended his hand and you took it accepting his invitation. You suddenly felt really nervous since it was the first time you were going to slow dance with him but unbeknown to you, Bucky Barnes felt sick due to his nerves. He wanted this to work, he wanted to show you and the world that he was still capable of being a soft person, not this cold calculative soldier with a dark past.

The feeling of his hand on your waist and your other hands intertwined was intoxicating you, your bodies pressed together, the only thing between you two were your clothes. You spinned around the room for what felt like eternity, time for you had stopped and everyone had disappeared.

You burst the small bubble you were both in saying you needed a drink, Bucky stopped swaying you and with your hands still intertwined, went to the empty bar.

“I’ve always loved the Victorian Era, you know?” He said while giving you a glass full of vodka, and took a sip of his flask. “The clothes, the courting, the chivalry and all that fuss.” He smiled sadly at you thinking that you wouldn’t notice.

“If you could, would you go back in time and stay?”

He took another sip, now longer, and shook his head. “Of course not, you wouldn’t be there.” He blurted out without thinking and you just giggled at the comment.

“Oh Barnes, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you would make good friends there as well.” You gave him a sincere smile and he shook his head again, taking another sip of the flask, this time a long one. You looked down at your glass and twirled the straw, looking at how the ice cubes collided with each other.

“I love you.” You jerked your head up and maybe it was the alcohol clouding your mind or the denial of your own feelings, but you didn’t notice his intense gaze, filled with love and adoration.

“And I love you too, you idiot. As my best friend, you should know that already.” You placed your lips around the straw and finished the whole drink, Bucky still looking at you shocked that you rejected his feelings without you noticing.

“No, Y/n, what I mean is that I’m-”

“You are what, Barnes?” Nat cut Bucky off and you threw yourself into her arms, kissing her face and wishing her a happy birthday. “I missed you, Nat. Where were you?” You started talking to her totally ignoring your friend, who got that as his cue to leave the party. He would never blame you for not feeling the same or not even noticing his feelings, that was totally on him, but he didn’t feel well enough to stay in the party. He knew you wanted him there, to get drunk together and then both of you ending up throwing up in the sink and the toilet, but tonight he needed to breathe, he needed to get out of the crowd.

“Hey, where is going Bucky?” Asked Steve while he approached Nat and you. You frowned and looked at the entrance, catching a glimpse of Bucky’s broad shoulders and hair leaving the party. “I’ll be back in a sec.” You said and stumbled down the bar stool, heading towards the entrance half running.

“We both know they are not coming back, right?” Steve said to Nat, a strong nod and a sigh answered his comment.

You ran as fast as your drunken state let you but before you could notice you slipped with the dress and fell.

“FUCK” You screamed to the empty hall and took off your heels and gloves, standing up trying not to fall again on your ass. Bucky was nowhere to be seen so you headed to his room, your head spinning due to the alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky startled you, making you lose balance but he caught you before you could fall again.

“I was just checking that you got to your room safely, since you know, you get lost and all that.” You laughed at his fake hurt expression and straightened your clothes. You noticed that he had taken off his mask and that you were still wearing yours. “Why did you leave?”

“I’m feeling a bit sick, I think I drank too mu-”

“James, if you don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong I’ll torture you until you do. The drinking excuse is the worst you could’ve used with me.”

Bucky sighed defeated, he knew he had to get it off his chest, after three years carrying this on his own, he needed to let the words out, he needed you to know. He reached for the laces of your mask and took it off, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

“I love you, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance just to mess up with him.

“Baby, we already established that I lov-”

“Y/n, you are not listening. I am in love with you. I want to be your best friend, your lover, your partner in crime and your drunk buddy.”

You stared at him wide eyed, not knowing what to answer or to do. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and you gasped at the feeling, making Bucky think that you were rejecting the act. You stopped him from moving his hand and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours lightly.

“Either you kiss me or I faint, so make a m-” And just like that, his lips crashed against yours with a passion and hunger you’ve never felt in your entire life. He pressed you against the door, the stupid huge dress stopping you from feeling anything. Your brain finally woke up and you realized what was going on. Bucky Barnes loved you, he was in love with you. And you were in love with him. You pulled away and stopped him, making him step backwards scared that he did something you didn’t want to.

“You love me?” You really asked him, thinking that maybe your brain was betraying you. He nodded and looked away, not wanting to see the rejection in your eyes.

“Hey coward, look at me.” You held his chin and forced him to look at you. “I love you too, always have. I was just too damn scared to admit it to even myself.” He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower, pouring every ounce of love he had for you in the kiss.

“What now?” He asked you once he pulled away to breathe. He had his hand on the back of your neck, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“As much as I’d love you to fuck me against every surface on that room, I am drunk and tired and I need to process everything.” He nodded and waited for you to come up with what you wanted to do next. “So you are going to take this dress off me carefully cause I can’t do it on my own and it’s expensive as fuck, you are going to give me one for your shirts and we are sleeping, together.” He nodded again and smiled, leaning in again to give your lips a small peck.

“Consider it done, asshole.”

[ingayderzim]

not to be that person who asks a googleable question but wtf is hazbin hotel bc i googled it and the only “critical” thing i could find was a typo-ridden article of someone saying it has good animation and its haters are stupid. i was able to glean what it is/what it’s about but idk about the discourse lmao

Im actually so glad u asked this. Here's the lowdown, this is my definitive answer to hazbin shit from here on out, unless new info comes about of course.

Hazbin hotel is an independent cartoon by vivziepop. Most people (that ive seen) have agreed that the pilot of the show really isnt that great but the reason it has so many fans is bc of the entertaining livestreams, massive amounts of canon content produced (she has had these characters for years), unique art style, and the characters. (Ass ugly but unique.)

Its haters are totally justified bc of some of the "controversial" (read: bad) things vivziepop has done. Here's the conclusion that my friends and classmates (several of whom are Black, one Hispanic woman, and one trans woman...nellie if ur reading this i 💜 u) and i came to after discussing this stuff. I am NOT saying "well my black/trans friend said it's ok so i dont have to think about it!" this is based on a few different conversations that my friends and i have had about this topic so what im saying is that my opinion was formed by talking about this situation with multiple people affected by the controversy.

One controversial thing is a drawing u can easily find on google (called beastiality.jpg i believe?) It's a cropped (chest and up, but hes obv naked) drawing of vivziepops character, drawn by vivziepop, moaning, with a snake around him. The character is 17. Many people have interpreted this as child porn. I dont think this image is pornographic, i think it's a stupid joke (it was even tagged as a joke iirc) and completely inappropriate but since it's 8 years old on top of not being porn, i think it's just an example of a dumb drawing. That being said, i would NEVER argue that someone who is uncomfortable w the drawing (im uncomfortable with it! It's gross just not porn) or considers it porn is wrong. They are entitled to that opinion and i would never expose them to vivziepops work or talk about her stuff around them if they expressed to me that they disliked the image.

Another thing is that she drew a doodle of two racist TERFs. This is the one where my friends of color, my friends who are black, and my friends who are trans women took the lead. I sat back for this part and here's their and my opinion on this after talking about it and verbally going through this whole situation.

She was following these women (who had done blackface and stuff) and drew art of them. The art was a "quick doodle" that she did apologize for and she said she didn't realize the extent of their beliefs. She knew they werent great but hadnt consumed much of their content in depth. I believe her bc while ive never followed anyone as bad, ive certainly followed some pieces of shit and didnt notice for months simply bc im not online all the time and bc of the volume of people i follow, combined with the non chronological algorithms lately.

At the risk of screwing myself, im going to admit that there was about a year or so of my life where i enjoyed The Amazing Atheist. I was even subbed to him. I was a nonbinary lesbian (2 things he cant stand lmaoo) in catholic school and therefore i strictly watched his videos about theological stuff since thats what was frustrating me at the time. I had no clue the type of evil racist, transphobic, homophobic (yes ik hes bi), misogynistic things he thought, said, and did, bc i didnt watch those videos. I literally only watched select theological ones that could be of use to me while edgily debating my teachers (sorry mrs macdougal but u had it coming). I was about 15 at the time and im 19 now. Im sorry to everyone i hurt by ever having supported him. I had one of his quotes written in the inside of my religion notebook in high school. I regretted it and ripped the page out the moment i discovered the truth about him. I cant stress enough how much I HATE HIM. Thats an example of what i think happened here tho.

One of my friends who is a trans woman said (paraphrasing) "i think the worst thing shes done is that terf art but i believe the apology especially bc it was a quick drawing."

That being said, i would NEVER argue with someone who wanted nothing to do w vivziepop bc of this. That's their right. 100%. I would never expose them to her work after that.

The last thing i remember is something about a pedophilic couple in a comic but i heard it was a 17 year old and a 19 year old. Im 19 and if one of my peers did that i wouldnt say pedophile but id say ur a fucking weirdo, BUT, the kids were fake and being written by an adult so i can totally see her thinking that age gap is much less of a big deal than it really is. Like she forgot what it's like at this age. Idk how true any of that part is tho, i heard that info entirely secondhand.

Another thing to do with racism is that there's a joke within the show where one character says to the other

"don't get your taco in a twist"

"Was that supposed to be racist or sexist?"

"Whichever one pisses you off more"

I thought that was gross but one of my friends pointed out that vivziepop is of el salvadorian descent so that's her business. Like if i made a lesbian joke of equal or greater offensiveness than that and someone tried to call me lesbophobic over it id be like "that's literally my territory."

Oh speaking of which that character's name is vaggie and shes a lesbian but it's not pronounced w the same G you'd hear in "vagina." Vivziepop seems to name characters weirdly (like how in helluva boss theres a guy named blitzo and the o is silent) so maybe it's a pussy joke but i have no idea.

The animation was.................better than i could do, i wanna say the faces and gestures were good but god i remember there was a part with a car and my gf had to pause so i could laugh my ass off at it. I wouldn't describe the animation as a highlight but i liked the style in motion i thought it was a fun change. Vivziepops style is not appealing imo but i appreciate it as an art student and as someone whose friends all like she ra and steven universe where every character looks the goddamn motherfucking same, and while its chaotic and i dont care for it, the style actually works way better in motion than you'd think.

A good rule that i def use is to assume hazbin fans are guilty until proven innocent. If someone says they dont care about the discourse surrounding it and like it no matter what, RUN! They would support the show even if the creator was in fact a pedophile, or had done the blackface/was a terf herself! They probably support some horrible ppl and are probably "anti antis." A lot of them are minors tho so i'd say block and move on.

So, do i like it or not? Im an art student and all my friends like it so while i didnt think it was funny, i do fuck with it. At the convention this weekend my friends and i had a convo that led to me drawing an ahego hoodie where the faces were angel dust (a character's) face. It was a joke that i could make a killing by selling that in a booth at a con.

Theres really nothing compelling about the show but my friends like it so i join in on their conversations, and i do have a soft spot for angel dust bc he's like a worse, less amazing and gorgeous version of one of my characters, Candy, the love of my life.

A lot of people say the show was edgy/offensive and maybe im just desensitized but besides the taco thing i didnt pick up on that whatsoever??? The Archer episode "Swiss Miss" is worse than helluva boss and hazbin combined and even archer isn't offensive.

Im probably not aware of all the "discourse" (aka people being reasonably uncomfortable by weird and bad shit this random woman has done, and other ppl saying their opinions are wrong when it's literally just an opinion about a show) so if anything she's done isnt included in here it's not to defend vivziepop, this is genuinely all i know. I wouldnt describe myself as a fan of hers.

[blookmallow]

I FINALLY GOT SKYRIM MARRIED

i have a BEAUTIFUL WIFE

...who i went through a lot of shit for. this is. a lot of exposition, bear with me :’) im very invested in my character’s personal story here

so astrid had a very important special job for me and sent me to markarth to speak with the client directly

it turned out to be the apothecary’s assistant, who i was passingly familiar with already, so i imagine it was a bit of a surprise to both of us, but she got right to the point - a man broke her heart and ruined her life, used her to hurt the people close to her, abandoned her to go become a bandit, now she wants him dead

u can probably imagine where this is going,

this is the first time ive had a dark brotherhood job i was legitimately PSYCHED to carry out, you BET ill go fuck this guy up for you id do this for free

however, she also had... another request, one that wasn’t required, but something she really, really wanted

see she was very close with/practically another daughter to the shatter-shields in windhelm, the wealthy family who recently lost a daughter to the windhelm butcher

alain had manipulated her and used her to get to the shatter-shields, i dont remember if he stole from them or what happened there, but whatever it was, the shatter-shields blamed muiri for this and disowned her, throwing her out onto the streets with nothing

so she was used and had her heart broken by a man she loved, then was told it was Her Fault, and lost her home and her friends/the closest thing to family she had all at once, and was so hurt and desperate she turned to the dark brotherhood to get revenge on them all

she wanted me to kill nilsine too, the shatter-shields’ other daughter

SO we have this really complicated situation where, on the one hand, she wants alain dead for using her and ruining her life and hurting her friends, and like, he’s a bandit leader now, so he’s someone i probably would’ve easily killed off anyway, by “this is a video game not real life”/skyrim standards that’s a no brainer, i have no moral conflict with that and can’t wait to slash this guy’s head off

but on the other hand she’s so broken she wants a woman who used to be her best friend/practically her sister dead too. i dont know what nilsine’s role in this was specifically but these people were essentially her family, and they victim blamed her when she needed their support the most and threw her out with nothing and nowhere to go

and i had already done quests with the shatter-shields before this, so like, i know them too, and they’re sort of friends to me, i helped solve the mystery of their other daughter’s murder and now I’m being asked to kill the other. not to mention everyone’s going to think the butcher’s back/there’s a copycat killer/something and it’s gonna cause a panic again (even if the game doesn’t acknowledge that/directly show that happening, y’know) 

killing someone’s daughter when they’re still in mourning over the first, when they’ve come to trust you, when you’re the one who helped them gain closure over that first death already, is just. a stone cold thing to do

especially looking at it from my character’s perspective, she’d be especially torn on this because she’s a mother herself, but her children are girls she rescued from the streets - lucia was thrown away by her family, sofie was a victim of tragedy and was let down by the people in authority who should have protected and helped her

so medea would relate to tova as a mother and a friend but also relate powerfully with muiri as a victim in this

ultimately i don’t think there’s any real justification to kill nilsine here, i dont think you can really morally defend that, but. i was so drawn to muiri and wanted so badly to give her a shot at a better life and help her heal from all this, and knew she would become a marriage option if i did it bc id seen her name on the marriage options list before, her story fits in so well with medea’s, and like, i dont imagine im gonna have a lot of options for wives who would Know about my connection to the dark brotherhood/the things ive done and be okay with it, so if i went with her, there wouldn’t be a “keeping this horrible secret from my wife” aspect to deal with even though the game probably doesn’t acknowledge it if you do (i mean im still. keeping it from my kids, but. y’know. when they’re older)

and “talk this out with her and help her see how badly her mind’s been warped by the pain she’s been through” isn’t an option given to you, so

in the end i went through with it. killing alain was easy, just like any other bandit camp raid, but to get at nilsine without being caught, i had to sneak into their house when the family was asleep

which i expected would involve a lot of careful sneaking and laborious lock picking

until i realized i could just walk right in

because the door was already unlocked for me. because they consider me a friend and allow me into their home

and that somehow made it so much worse

i killed nilsine with an arrow, nobody heard a thing, and i ran for it before anyone saw me in there or realized what had happened

muiri gave me a special ring as a “symbol of her affection” for doing this, which i think is about the biggest sign i coulda hoped for lmao

i held off on considering marriage for the time though and finally decided i had to go back to windhelm to see if there was anything i could do to make amends to the shatter-shields even though they shouldn’t know it was me/make sure i didnt get seen by a guard without realizing it or something (though it wouldn’t probably matter anyway, guards saw me leave the orphanage immediately after grelod’s death and shrugged that off, so,)

my name’s still clear in windhelm, but...

tova committed suicide after she discovered what happened

she couldn’t cope with losing another daughter

so now the father is the only one left, coping with. the death of his entire family occurring within like a couple months

i didnt see what happened here i came back later so i dont know if this is something you can possibly stop or if its possible to witness the moment they find nilsine or tova’s suicide or if this just Inevitably happens whenever you come back

i feel terrible about this but theres. not really any going back now,

so. i went back to muiri

i dont know if this is what everyone says or not but her response was just. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be” i love her lmao

i wouldnt choose to get married in riften if it was up to me but thats how it be in skyrim i guess

my babies are here!!!! what!!!!

and a. random guy i dont recognize lmao :’)

just wandered in to see what was going on i guess. or maybe we’re friends and i forgot who he is entirely which would be kind of sad :’ )

maybe it was my long lost father... slipped out before i ever had the chance to realize it

however i actually. ended up doing this scene twice because, fun fact, there’s a glitch where if you don’t manage to catch up to your spouse to talk about where to live before they leave the chapel they can just fucking Disappear sometimes, :’  ) i couldnt find her anywhere after the wedding and finally looked it up and apparently she just fell into the void so i had to reload and run it again. we’re double married now

planned better this time and dressed better but anyway that elf guy didn’t appear this time but some other guy did, who i ALSO cant quite identify, he looks. maybe. kind of like lucas valerian? who is actually a friend to me and was one of the first friends i made so it’d decently make sense for him to come to my wedding, but weird if he came and camilla didn’t, and im not even sure thats him anyway, so i dont know what happened here all around

muiri’s mentor lady came too though which was sweet

im spinning this kind of as... like, medea was so drawn to her and felt so strongly for her she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her and this was an eye opener for them both as a kind of. “look what kind of people we’ve let ourselves become” and their marriage as a new beginning, love coming from a place of desperation and darkness, starting over and hoping that the divines will forgive what they’ve done

medea’s not leaving the brotherhood but i mmmmmight try to be a little more careful about who i kill

i had intended for her to come live with me in markarth, she’s in on my. assassin life so having kind of this Other Side to my life made sense but... she met my kids at the wedding i guess and she wanted to live with them... which is really cute,

it feels really weird having this huge fancy house all to myself (and uh. argis, i guess) in markarth and having my wife and kids (and lydia, and a fox) all squished into the honestly kinda run-down whiterun house though i think im gonna work on getting the solitude house for them bc its. safer there than in markarth i feel like and ive heard thats like the fanciest/biggest house

there she is..... my Wife

she also sells things now but i feel bad accepting it when she gives me “my share” of the profit like.... babe thats your money i have so much adventuring money and i didnt do shit to help earn that,

i buy things from her sometimes but i refuse to sell her stuff bc i dont want to take any more of her money :’ )

even tho it. doesnt really matter, its video games, i know, but

found lucia, the fox, and muiri all on the bed at once

lydia was just standing like this for a rly long time after muiri moved in i guess she was suspicious but chilled out eventually :’)

gettin along finally

i just realized if we move to solitude lydia’s gonna get left behind though :(

i mean ill still come visit her but. upsetting

my one issue is that muiri still keeps saying “thank you for solving my-....problem.” every time i come in speaking distance of her which is. weird given that its the same line she had before we were married, like, she apparently doesnt get any new things to say, and is Really repetitive (imagine living in a small space with your partner and they say the same sentence with the same intonation every time you step within like 2 feet of them. how long til that gets old, do you think, ) and also its just like??? girl let that go we gotta stop dwelling on this or the kids are gonna start questioning what apparently massively important problem mommy solved

idk why she was laying on the floor but anyway my kids have started calling her “mama” now too and im not crying or anything

[kumkaniudaku]

Our Thing

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys. Here’s one of the two things I plan on writing. I consider all of you my Valentine’s since I never have one, so here’s something before the clock strikes 12. 

Work Count: 2k

Warnings: Not yet proofread

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What? Of course, it’s a good idea! I’m the king of good ideas!”

Voices bounced off of the walls of the Brooklyn apartment building as Chad and CoCo walked side by side to the apartment at the end of the hallway.

The snow lining the sidewalks outside were typical of mid-February, giving Tasha more of a reason to stay inside on the cold Friday. But her friend insisted she leave the dark cocoon she had created for herself in her apartment just across the water in New Jersey.

Valentine’s Day was the designated time of the year to celebrate love. Chadwick had a reason to celebrate, but CoCo could no longer say the same. After months of turmoil and emotional abuse, she was a single woman again and dreading the mere thought of loving someone else. So, she planned to avoid all mentions of love and relationships for the foreseeable future. Even if that meant neglecting tradition.

“Look, Chad, we can celebrate on the 15th! This feels so...weird.”

“We celebrate Valentine’s Day together every year. We can’t skip out this year.”

“I feel like having a girlfriend is the perfect reason to miss a year,” CoCo deadpanned as they reached their intended destination. She could practically feel the excitement buzzing from the other side of the door in the form of Toni Braxton’s greatest hits so far, and started to feel bad for the woman she’d come face to face with for the first time.

“Why miss a year when we can celebrate together? And you get to meet my lady for the first time. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun my ass,” Tasha mumbled into the thick scarf around her neck, earning a look from Chadwick.

“Wanna share that with the class, Miss Greene?”

“Knock on the damn door!”

A muffled feminine voice announced that she was gearing up to answer the door adding to the uneasiness in the pit of CoCo’s belly. She knew that if she was on the other side of this encounter, seeing a woman with her boyfriend on date night would insight a riot.

When the door opened to reveal the woman she only knew as Jay, she was more than shocked at what met her. Jay was beautiful. Her slim figure came with a few curves to compliment her height. She was graceful beyond compare and impeccably dressed, making Tasha feel incredibly bland in comparison.

“Hi, baby,” Jay sang as she wrapped her arms around Chadwick and went in for a kiss. If Tasha had rolled her eyes any harder, they would’ve fallen from her skull and rolled all the way back to New Jersey to beat her home. Catching wind of another presence, Jay offered a courteous smile.

“Oh, hi! Did he forget to give you a tip downstairs?”

“A tip,” CoCo asked, obviously offended and a bit confused.

“A tip for the cab ride. I know it was hell driving in this snow. Just let me grab my purse.”

Chadwick could see Tasha’s struggle to maintain her composure, her mouth opening and closing with words she couldn’t produce.

“You know what? I’m going home. Call me to let me know you got back to your place safely.”

“No, wait,” he exclaimed before grabbing Tasha’s elbow and pulling her back to her original spot despite her struggle to pull away. Noticing the commotion, Jay turned back to Chadwick and Tasha with her brows quirked in confusion.

“Am I missing something.”

“Nope. I’ll just take my tip and be on my w-”

“Jay, this is my best friend Tasha that I’ve been telling you about. Co, this is Jayme Dubois, my girlfriend.”

A brief and unpleasant stare off preceded a chipper energy shift as Jayme went in for a hug. “CoCo, how are you! I have heard so much about you.”

“Yeah well, don’t believe any of it,” CoCo forced out between fake laughter while she made faces at Chadwick over Jayme’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, what brings you over? Do you have a date in this complex? I always knew white boy Rick liked Black women.”

“Actually, Muffin, I was thinking she could spend Valentine’s Day with us. It’s been tradition for us to spend the holiday together and we don’t wanna break it.”

“So you want Tasia -”

“It’s Tasha,” CoCo interrupted in the most obnoxious tone she could muster.

“Right...Tasha. You want Tasha to spend Valentine’s Day with us? Tonight? Even though this is a couple’s holiday? Couple as in two, mind you.”

“Yes, Jay. It would really mean a lot to me.”

Jayme looked between a visibly annoyed Tasha and the pleading eyes of her boyfriend before letting go of a long sigh and stepping aside to usher her companions for the night inside.

Tasha took in her surroundings and quietly marveled. Though small because what seemed to be standard in New York, Jayme’s dwelling was equal parts colorful and classic. Had she not started the interaction on such a bad note, Tasha would’ve complimented her on the statement couch that matched her ornate rug, but she kept it to herself out of spite.

“So since we have one more, what are our plans for the night, honey bear?”

Chadwick caught the slight scrunch in CoCo’s face and ignored it to refrain from explaining the embarrassing nickname. “Well, we can still go see Definitely, Maybe like you wanted, but instead of dinner in the park, Tasha got us a reservation at this really nice Italian spot in the city.”

“I called in a favor from work. It was no big deal.”

Jayme disregarded CoCo’s smile as she took a sip from her water bottle and sat on the arm of the chair Chadwick occupied. Her hands rubbed patronizing circles around his shoulders and back, forcing Tasha to look away to save the awkward moment.

“Well, it seems like you too already have this figured out, so I’ll just grab my coat. Do you have any more suggestions, CoCo?”

“Nooope.” Tasha sang the word through gritted teeth forced into a smile. Chadwick gave her a sympathetic look before helping Jayme into her coat and ushering each woman safely out of the building.

Tasha remained the front wheel of the tricycle, preferring to stay in front of the couple to refrain from looking like the unwanted third party. With every audible kiss and nauseatingly affectionate gesture, CoCo felt her heart tighten. It wasn’t seeing Chadwick with another woman that had her fighting back tears in the theatre. She needed the sight to push her feelings for him to the furthest corner of her mind. It was the pain of knowing that she had just detached from one of the worst situations in her life, yet wanted to be with him to cure the loneliness she felt.

If she had it her way, she’d cry it out until the work week resumed on Monday in the comfort of her own home, but continued to engage in the conversation when the moment presented itself to appease Chadwick.

In a restaurant full of couples, Jayme, Chadwick, and Tasha were the only threesome in the center of the establishment. Nervous energy characterized the silence left behind when Chadwick excused himself to the restroom, leaving the women in his life to avoid eye contact.

Relief came in the form of a stout waiter visiting the table to collect dinner orders. Without realizing that the order would be incomplete without the third member of the group, the women ordered traditional dishes and wine for the table.

“And the young man? What will he have?”

“Oh! Ummm, I’m not sure,” Jayme responded as she fumbled through the menu. “Maybe you could come back in a few minutes?”

“He’ll have the Parmigiana w/ Pasta, but please be light on the sauce. He gets heartburn from all the tomatoes.”

The waiter took heed of Tasha’s warning before walking away, leaving Jayme to burn a hole in the top of Tasha’s head while she sorted through emails on her cell phone.

“How long did you say you and Chadwick have been friends?”

“Since Fall 1996. So coming up on 13 years,” Tasha answered, looking up to find an indecipherable look on Jayme’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I just - you know him so well. His favorite candy, where he likes to sit in the theatre, what he eats at certain restaurants. I don’t know if I can keep up.”

The process of finding the right words to assure Jayme, Chadwick returned to the table and unknowingly ended the conversation before it could truly begin.

“Never in my life did I think I’d have to stand in line to use the men’s restroom. I applaud y’all for doing that,” he complained as he took his seat. “Has the waiter come back for orders yet?”

“He did actually. Tasha got you Parmigiana w/ Pasta.” Jayme secretly hoped that Chadwick would reject the choice and ask for a second go at the ordering process. She was met with the complete opposite.

“Hell yeah!” His fist met Tasha’s across the table in his childlike excitement. “I love that shit.”

“Language, honey bear.”

“Sorry, Muffin.”

“Wow,” Tasha whispered to herself, unaware that the others around the table could hear her.

“Did you want to say something, Tasha?”

“Noooope.”

The table fell silent to give way to the idle chatter in the area around them. Chadwick looked between his girlfriend and best friend trying to find a way to get them to interact with each other cordially.

“So, Co, Jayme has been trying to get into basketball lately.”

“Oh really.” Tasha was clearly uninterested as she continued to read emails on her phone from weeks ago. A subtle kick underneath her table made her look up and noticed Chadwick’s non-verbal urging for her to at least pretend to care. “Which team are you interested in, Jayme?”

“I really like the Nets! Trenton Hassell to be exact.”

“Do you? Because he averages less than two points a game. There’s not much to like.”

“Trenton is your friend’s boyfriend right, Jay?”

“Does it matter now? Tasha basically called him a bad player.”

“Not bad, per se. He’s terrible. That’s a better adjective.”

“Oh-kay,” Chadwick interjected to end the escalating conversation. “Jay, how’s work at the fashion house going?”

“Ugh, it is amazing! We got some new pieces last night and they are beautiful. Maybe you could come browse one day, Tasha. Style can always use an update.”

“I consider myself more Maxine than Regine. Thanks though. I’m sure the pieces are nice.”

Tasha successfully contained her laughter at Jayme’s expression, feeling her first surge of happiness for the day.

Chadwick felt helpless as the night continued and each attempt at joining two of his favorite women ended in a snarky comment or shady look. Dinner provided a welcome activity that didn’t require group conversation, giving him the opportunity to cater to each woman. The longer they sat and contemplated grabbing cheesecake inside the restaurant or settling for ice cream on the way home, the more he could feel Jayme disconnecting.

“Muffin, do you want the strawberry cheesecake for here or to go,” he asked as she slid her coat from the back of her chair and collected her purse.

“Actually, I don’t feel so well, honey bear. I’m gonna head home.”

“What? So soon? We didn’t even get to dessert.”

Tasha watched Jayme put on her best “sick” face and gagged internally at Chadwick falling for the charade. Jayme was far from physically sick. If she was feeling anything, it was annoyance at the fact that her boyfriend’s best friend had spent the most romantic night of the year taking the attention from her.

“Well, let me walk you outside and wait for the cab to come.”

“Thank you, honey bear.” Jayme accepted Chadwick’s help into her coat, purposely ignoring Tasha until the last second. “Good night, Tasha. Maybe we’ll see each other for another occasion. Hopefully in a less...crowded environment.”

Tasha released a short chuckle before plastering on a fake smile, “Right. I’ll pencil you into my calendar.”

Jayme offered another fake smile and nod before leading the way out of the restaurant into the Brooklyn streets.

“I’ll pencil you in and the erase that shit. Fuck her.”

Time started to drag as she sat at the table alone, looking more foolish with three plates crowding her space than playing seat warmer for the world’s cutest couple. A glance out of the window gave her access to the tail end of Jayme’s departure. Her inability to peel her eyes away from the private moment showed her two things: Chadwick was far more interested in Jayme than she was in him, and she was clearly upset despite the kiss and hug she provided before disappearing into the backseat of her taxi.

Moments later, Chadwick took the seat directly across from Tasha and sighed.

“Go ahead. Tell me that you told me so.”

“I’m not gonna say that friend,” Tasha smiled. “All I’ll say is you’re gonna need one of these cheesecakes to go because mama is PISSED.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so. But, I’m here to help with gift ideas to make up for this dumbass idea. And I ordered us dessert.”

Chadwick’s ear perked at the sound of a sugar rush to end a night full of terrible decisions. “Did you get the cookie thing with the-”

“The vanilla bean ice cream on top? C’mon now! You know me!” Without hesitation, the pair completed their signature handshake before sitting back in their seats.  “Sorry for ruining your date, Aaron. I’ll pay the tab as a peace offering.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ll make it up to her. You know there’s a reason she calls me honey bear.”

“Gross. Please, don’t finish that sentence. And what the fuck is Muffin? Are you a white TV dad now?”

Chadwick’s deep belly laugh at CoCo’s expense continued until their shared dessert was placed between them. Instructing Tasha to pick up her spoon, Chadwick began a pseudo-toast.

“To another Valentine’s Day spend together and many more to come!”

Their spoons clinked together in solidarity before the argument of who would get which portion of the cookie began, ending the most romantic day of the year the only way they knew how: together.

                                  _______________

TAGS:

@k-michaelis

@wakandanmoonchild

@idilly

@texasbama

@afraiddreamingandloving

@inxan-ity

@daytimeheroicsonly

@onyour-right

@sisterwifeudaku

@killmongerdispussy

@90sinspiredgirl

@willowtree77785901

@maynardqueen101

@heyauntieeee

@halfrican-heat

@purple-apricots

@lalapalooza718

@blue-ishx

@profilia

@ljstraightnochaser

@girl-wtf-lmao

@dramaqueenamby

@royallyprincesslilly

@melaninmarvel

@thiccdaddy-mbaku

@lavitabella87

@purplehairgawdess

@unholyxcumbucket

@airis-paris14

@uhlxisback

@oshasimone

@maliadestiny

@drsunshine97

@zxddy-panther

@queentearra

@skysynclair19

@retro-melanin

@mermaidchansons

@misspooh

@melanisticroyalty

@babygirlofwakanda

@wakanda-4evr

@sarahboseman

@karensraisns

@wakandankings

@kaykay4454fan

@ororowrites

@awkwardlyabstract

@mixedmelanin

@brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers

@cosmicmelaninflower

@justanotherloveaffair

@jaeee-http

@iliketowrite1996

@blackpantherismyish

@soldierandawar

@msincognito67

@reignsxjackson

@yaachtynoboat711

@syreanne

@minim236

@yoyolovesbucky

[missmarquin]

Magnetic, Ch. 1

In the future, romantic attraction is literal: each person is fitted with an electromagnetic bracelet which will pull you to your soulmate. It's hard, wondering who's out there for you. It's harder yet, when you have to come to understand yourself first.

Read on A03, for best quality (Including proper italics and such!)

Domain

‘A magnetic domain is a region within magnetic material in which the magnetization is uniform in one direction.’

Eighteen was a big year for many, but turning twenty is what people truly waited for.

Otabek had never really given it much thought, he supposed. Amita might not have been his initial choice of who he’d want to spend his life with forever, but she had since grown on him-- not unlike a fungus. She was sharp and quick-witted, and he had to admit that his parents had made a good choice. Really, they had. He and Amita just worked together, their relationship didn’t require much effort.

So the ceremonious receiving of the Destiny Bracelet wasn’t so ceremonious for him. He didn’t want to fuck up something that was good for him.

“It’s such a stupid fucking name,” Yuri said through the phone screen. Amita rolled her eyes, as she held the phone out, and Otabek smirked back at the video feed. “ Destiny Bracelet . What is this, some shitty fucking rom-com?”

“Hey now,” Amita pouted, leaning around so Yuri could see her through the screen. “ Some people like shitty rom-coms.”

“I guess you’re allowed to,” Yuri said with a genuine smile. “You’re special though.”

Really, Otabek’s luck couldn’t be better. Yuri was the most important person in the world to him, at the end of things, and he fucking lovedAmita. They were practically partners-in-crime themselves.

“What’s the point anyhow?” Yuri continued griping. “ It’s not like you aren’t getting married regardless. You and Amita are stupidly in love.”

Otabek and Amita shared an amused glance, and he said, “Why not? It’s not like it’s going to hurt me, you know? Besides, Mom is curious.” Not his mom, just Mom, the woman who had seen Yuri once before instantly adopting him as her own. Much to the boy’s aggravation.

Yuri snorted, rolling his eyes. Otabek wasn’t sure that he was stupidly in love with Amita, but he was happy and honestly, that was more than he could ask for. There was a mild fear that the bracelet would want to pull him somewhere else, but many people ignored it anyway. The journey of finding that soulmate wasn’t worth it to some.

Otabek was okay with that. He wasn’t the kind for grand romantic gestures or sweeping adventures. It was less work to stay in his tidy little bubble, and it suited him.

“Are we all ready in here?” A voice piped from the doorway. Everyone turned to meet a middle-aged man, the proctor in charge of attaching and turning on the gizmo. Otabek nodded and he whisked into the room, settling into the rolling stool beside the bed.

“I was I could be there for this,” Yuri muttered. “I wish I could see the annoyance on your face, the moment that bracelet beeps.”

Such a Yuri thing to say and do, to take pleasure in the vexation of others.

“Someone has rehearsal to be at, you know,” Amita chided. “Someone scored a spot in the Bolshoi Ballet Company, so that someone needs to stay put and not burn bridges before they are even built.”

Yuri sighed and Otabek hid a smile behind a carefully placed cough. Yuri wouldn’t listen to him, but he would always listen to her, begrudging as it was.

“Hold out your arm now,” the proctor interrupted cheerfully. Otabek did as he was told and the man fitted a length of cool metal around his wrist. It wasn’t his first time seeing one and it wouldn’t be his last, but he was always surprised by how boring it looked. Just a simple chain of lightweight links, fitted with neat and elegant looking square. The way it worked was a carefully guarded secret, but it worked and that’s all people cared about.

The point of the Destiny Bracelet was to make people happy, not make money and so, the world-wide program had been adopted free of charge. Yuri had always said it was stupid, because it could have made billions. He wasn’t wrong.

“As you probably already know, there’s nothing really needed to know about it’s use,” the proctor said. “It’s waterproof and practically indestructible, so you don’t need to worry about that. It can easily be removed if so wished, and once put back on, instantly kicks into gear again. No fancy buttons or doohickies,” he finished with a laugh. “You ready?”

Otabek shrugged and the man took a thin little tool, about the size of a paperclip, and shoved it into the pin-sized hole on the square. The bracelet beeped, indicating that it was scanning.

The room waited with bated breath, but nothing seemed to happen.

“Beks?” Amita said gently, curiosity full on her face. “Anything?”

“Uh,” Otabek started, lifting his wrist slightly. “No? I don’t think?”

The proctor didn’t seem fazed though, asking, “No tingling sensations? No feeling of being tugged a certain direction?”

“No,” Otabek confirmed. “Nothing.”

“Well, that’s not unusual,” the man said. “It only comes to life if your partner’s bracelet is active. Give it some time and it will start to work, I promise.” He folded his hands into his lap neatly. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” Yuri said from the video call, “Who’s placing bets on when that fucking happens?”

Otabek shot Yuri a glare, but Amita burst into laughter. The proctor smiled, before standing and handing Otabek a flyer. “This should give you more in depth information, but don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

Otabek nodded and thanked him, before standing himself.

“Three months till your woman gets hers,” Yuri drawled, “Ten thousand rubles that hers lights up like a damn Christmas Tree in your direction.”

The thought of Amita’s bracelet reacting to his own was a nice thought, but a one-in-a-million chance. Otabek remained hesitant about it, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“We don’t use rubles,” Amita tittered, her lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “What’s that about in tenge, Otabek?”

“About fifty-six thousand,” he deadpanned, and half Yuri’s monthly salary. Amita pressed her finger to her chin in thought.

“I’ll accept the bet and raise it, Yuri,” she finally said, a gleam in her eye. “One hundred thousand tenge that his bracelet doesn’t do jack shit when mine is activated.” Amita came from old money and didn’t bat an eye at the outrageous amount.

Otabek started slightly at that, but Yuri was already accepting the challenge before he could process that she had bet against them.

“You’re on, you hag,” Yuri snapped. “It’s pretty fucked up to bet against your own romance though.”

“Plenty of people don’t go searching for their soulmate, Yuri,” she said with a shrug. “Many people already love someone else and stick with them. Otabek and I are no different.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Amita when she said it, but the both of them weren’t the kind to throw around something like lovelightheartedly. When they walked out of the building though, Amita’s hand reached out to find his, squeezing gently as they told Yuri goodbye.

It’s enough to believe that this might actually work.

It wasn’t.

Otabek didn’t know what was wrong with him when he finally came to that conclusion.

The more and more he thought about the silent bracelet on his wrist, the more he realized that he would be okay with it staying that way for the rest of his life. And that he would be a-okay with Amita wandering off and finding her own destined one.

Because honestly, the woman deserved it. She deserved more than a half-hearted romance with a man who just liked her. Like wasn’t the same as love. Otabek understood that now.

“Relationships are fucking useless,” Yuri groaned over the video call.

“I take it that the date didn’t go well then,” Otabek mused.

“It was great, until he tried to eat my face off like some sort of rabid dog. ” Yuri paused to make a disgusted sound. “You know, that was the first time I’ve kissed a dude and honestly I feel sorry for women. Men are disgusting.”

Otabek wasn’t sure what surprised him more-- that Yuri’s first kiss had apparently been with a woman, or that he had admitted that men were gross. “You told me he was gross before you went on the date,” he pointed out.

“Personality wise yes,” Yuri replied, “but Beka, have you seen his fucking calves?”

“Yes,” Otabek said. Yuri had shown him tons of pictures of the company, all the while complaining about every single member.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You know, ignore that, it’s not like you’d ever fucking agree.”

It came out harsher than he meant, and Otabek mused at the irony of his statement. Otabek wouldn’t consider himself gay, but Yuri never failed to get under his skin when the time accounted for it. That moment wasn’t an exception, with his low-scooping neckline and hair falling around his face like spun gold.

Otabek promptly reminded himself that what he had with Amita was good enough, and not worth risking the only fucking friendship he had.

“So,” Yuri drawled and Otabek’s attention snapped back to him. “Less than a week until Amita get’s her little bracelet.”

Otabek smirked. “Regretting your bet yet?”

“Absolutely the fuck not. Everyone knows you two are disgustingly perfect. You’re almost as bad as the Piggy and Old Man.”

Otabek seriously doubted that, but laughed all the same.

“Are you worried?” Yuri asked.

“Not really,” Otabek said with a shrug.

“What if it’s not you?”

Otabek hesitated, but then said, “Not a problem. Like Amita said, many people stay with those they aren’t meant for. It’s not a bad thing.”

Yuri was quiet for a moment, regarding him carefully through the screen. Finally, he said, “You aren’t the type to do things half-way, Beka.”

It wasn’t a critique, it was the honest truth, and for once he didn’t know how to reply. But as soon as introspective Yuri had shown his face, he was gone, throwing out a dirty joke that he had heard from one of the pit musicians.  

After a long time of tossing jokes around and swapping stories, their call comes to its end. Yuri was clearly tired, eyelids drooping as he tucked into the hoodie that he stole from Otabek years ago.

Yuri had said his goodnight, about to end the call, when Otabek said something else.

“Would it make me a terrible person if I wanted her bracelet to point to someone else?” It wasn’t a planned question, or something he would have ever asked Yuri. His friend blinked slowly, his hand hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. “I wonder,” Otabek continued, “if I’m a horrible person because I might want to pull away.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Yuri finally said. “It makes you normal. Everyone questions their relationships. Sometimes people are constantly questioning them.” He paused and considered something else. “You’re lucky though, I think. Amita seems the kind of woman tough enough to handle rejection in the end. She’d slap a smile on her face and thank you.”

Yuri wasn’t wrong, and despite his heavy-handed worries, Otabek managed another smile before they ended the call for the night.

Otabek couldn’t dedicate time to be there, when Amita’s bracelet was activated. She came from old money, and despite working, she worked for her parents. They showered her with all the vacation and time off she could have ever wanted.

It wasn’t like Otabek’s family weren’t well of either-- that’s how they had met-- but he didn’t like to dip his hand into the cookie jar so to speak. He worked hard for his coin, and as a result had less leeway.

So that night, he had been in his garage, fixing up a vintage bike for a collector. It was dirty work, leaving him smeared with grease, but he loved it. The feel of the tools in his hand, the way that the engine whined when finely tuned to perfection.

Really, it was all could have ever asked for.

“I take it that it’s been a good day for you, Beks,” Amita said, stepping into his space quietly.

He swiped at his forehead and turned to smile at her, but she seemed distant and subdued. Slowly he dropped his hand, as he regarded her.

Amita fidgeted, she never fidgeted, and Otabek couldn’t help the crease that stretched across his forehead as he moved to speak. But she held her hand out and paused. And he saw the bracelet there, blinking gently in the dim light.

His didn’t blink at all, because it had no call.

She saw his gaze and moved her hand self-consciously, tucking her hair behind an ear. “It’s not strong,” she said, “the pull. Whoever it is isn’t close by. I’m not surprised though.”

“I-- I’m not either,” Otabek replied, but the words didn’t sound bitter. Nor was there dread in the pit of his stomach. If he had to be honest, he felt relieved.

Amita leaned against his workbench. “I know what we told Yuri, but--”

“But it’s not right,” Otabek finished, knowing that’s where she was going with this. He stood, wiping his dirtied hands on a spare rag in his pocket. He moved to lean next to her and she smiled sadly.

“It’s stupid, right? I mean, I want to marry you.”

“I would like that too,” Otabek said truthfully.

“But it isn’t… it’s not right,” she repeated. “I can’t really describe it any other way.” She sighed softly. “I couldn’t deny whoever your soulmate is, you, Otabek.”

He snorted at that. “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed to be alone, Amita,” he replied lightheartedly. And that was probably the truth. Most bracelets activated within several months, and the longer it took, the less likely it ever would. He was past the point of holding his breath.

She turned to look at him, her eyes flashing. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Otabek rubbed at his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I’m just not the kind of person who does people, you know? I’ve been thinking more and more about it lately, and I think that the single lifestyle would suit me.”

Amita regarded him quietly, tapping her finger against her chin like she always did when she thought. “I think the problem Beks,” she finally said, “is that you just haven’t found your person yet. I would love to be them, but… it’s not fair.”

“Yeah, it’s not fair to you--”

“ To you,” she interrupted. Otabek blinked at her words, her conviction. “You deserve happiness as much as anyone else,” she said firmly.

Otabek breathed an uneasy sigh, rubbing at his neck again. “I’m not holding my breath, you know,” he finally said.

At that, she laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you too. Above all Otabek, you are practical.”

He managed a smile at that. “What will you do, then? Go after him?” He took her hand gently, pulling it closer to see the bracelet. All it did was blink, signaling that it was on.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure my parents would be happy. They love you.”

“They love you more,” he pointed out.

She hummed at that, before reaching up and cupping his chin in her hand. “I’ll always love you,” she said quietly. “Despite what this bracelet says, or yours, I’ll always love you. I’m just not the one meant for you, I think.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his brow sweetly. “Who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you think?” She smirked widely as she pulled back and let him go.

Otabek could think of one person that he wouldn’t mind, but those odds were heavily stacked against him. And he wasn’t the kind to dream.

Still, when she left him behind in his shop, his heart didn’t feel heavy. He thanked Amita for her unwavering friendship, knowing that he’d have it forever.

The first year after the break up had been weird.

Amita had decided to go West in the end, following the tug of her bracelet. Otabek had seen her off personally, hugging her tightly at the airport. They parted well, with light hearts and encouraging words. Otabek knew that they had made the right decision, no matter how disappointed their parents had been.

In turn, being alone had given him time to think.

The single life wasn’t so bad, he thought. Amita’s words about how he hadn’t found his someone yet floated around here and there, but he had chosen to mostly ignore them. It was easier worrying about himself, and devoting the time to come to understanding who he was.

Yuri told him that he was stupid, but didn’t press the issue.

The second year was better. The second year, Otabek discovered himself, exploring his freedom. He finally used that vacation time and savings, and hit the open roads on his bike. Not too far though gone, because he never missed his nightly calls with Yuri.

Yuri threw himself into ballet, constantly tired and bruised. And when he wasn’t punishing his body with grueling training regimes, he threw himself into shitty date after shitty date. No one seemed to stick, not that Otabek was surprised. Yuri was as prickly as a summer cactus, and his personality wasn’t much better. Not everyone could handle the abrasive man.

“A huge part of me doesn’t want to get the stupid bracelet, Beka,” Yuri complained one night during their call. His twentieth birthday was looming over them and in a few weeks, he’d know.

“You don’t have to get the bracelet, you know,” Otabek said, leaning back against his headboard. It was a late night and both of them were settling for bed.

Yuri sighed, sitting on his tony mattress with crossed legs. That night he wore baggy sweatpants and a wide-necked black shirt that showed off his collarbones--

Otabek distracted himself by taking a sip from the water cup on his side table.

“I thought about it, actually,” Yuri said. “But then you know, I also keep dating assholes, so clearly my method isn’t working out.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t date assholes then,” he chided, smiling.

Yuri rolled his eyes, before falling back against the bed. “How do you do it?” he asked. “How do you just… do your own thing?”

Otabek thought before he answered. “It’s taken time and a lot of thought,” he finally said. “And of course, Amita pushed me, I guess.”

“A cross-country trip to discover yourself doesn’t hurt either,” Yuri teased, and when Otabek looked back at him through the screen, he saw the smirk across his lips. Otabek smiled right back.

“I’ve thought about taking it off,” Otabek continued with, flicking at the metal on his wrist. Nearly three years later and it was still dead as a door nail. Frankly, Otabek had lost interest in waiting. “My soulmate doesn’t define me, you know?”

Yuri hummed quietly. “Don’t,” he finally said. “I mean, at least wait until it turns on, yeah?”

“It probably won’t, Yura,” Otabek sighed. “Studies show that most activate within the first year. I’m probably the rare case of never activates at all . And honestly, I’m cool with it.”

“Well I’m not,” Yuri scoffed. “You can’t tell me that someone doesn’t get Otabek Altin as a fucking soulmate, I won’t take it. You’re too cool to go it alone.”

“You literally said that you admire that about me.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re deserving.”

Otabek ran a hand through his hair gently. “You aren’t like me, Yura,” he finally said. “Even though you don’t like people, you crave their attention. You’d never be okay on your own.”

“I wouldn’t be alone though,” Yuri replied quietly. “I’ll always have you, you know.”

Otabek did know, and he smiled. “It’s taken me a long time to get to where I am, but I’m good now. Give yourself a chance too, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. There was a short pause, and then, “Do yourself a favor Beka. Don’t you take yours off either, okay?”

Otabek’s lips quirked into a smile. “Okay.”

“It’s a promise?”

“Always, Yura.”

Despite all of Otabek’s annoyance for his own bracelet, he was excited for Yuri.

He watched through the screen as Yuri sat on the exam table, twitching with apprehension. The phone must have been propped up against something.  “It’s stupid,” he snapped. “I should be at rehearsal, I should be running through forms, hell I’d rather be doing fucking squats.”

Otabek smiled at that. “It’s not the end of the world, Yura,” he said amused. “A few years ago, you were excited .”

“Yeah, until I realized what a drag dating is, and how disgusting men are.” He paused then, his face twisting into horror. “Beka, what if my soulmate is a woman? My life would be over!”

“It could be worse, you know,” he joked. “It could not work at all.” He raised his own wrist in response.

Yuri scowled at him, about to retort when the proctor came in. When requested to, Yuri stuck his arm out, the smooth skin pale against his dark shirt. Otabek watched as the man slipped the chain around his wrist, snapping it closed. And then the tool came out.

Yuri looked hesitant, but his eyes were bright as the man activated the bracelet.

But then they both fell quiet, watching. And then there was a little beep and Yuri’s bracelet blinked. He regarded it with an odd look.

“You know, I wish Amita were watching. I bet her smug ass would have enjoyed this.”

Before Otabek could retort though, there was another beep, this time not through the phone call. He froze and looked down, right as his bracelet flared to life.

[dragonwitch77]

Death’s Flower

High up in the sky, higher than any cloud could reach, higher than any mountain peak, higher still to the stars is the realm of gods. A land filled with prosper, with rare creatures that frolic in enchanted woods, with rivers that run with crystal waters, and stone buildings fit for kings of kings. Here gods are kings that dine on the freshest and sweetest fruits, living in laps of luxury and comfort.

On the highest mountain in the realm, in the largest building filled to the speck with knowledge lives the ruler of the gods. Zaman, the God of Time. With his power of time, Zaman was in charge to make sure that everything ran its natural course. Filled with infinite wisdom and knowledge, he was the most respected and well-loved amongst the gods.

Zaman’s daughter, Lyvia, was the Goddess of Beauty. Her beauty was unmatched and could never be replicated. She gifted young women with beauty and gifts of song. Many gods and mortal men wished to be with her, but Zaman, fearing his daughter’s arrogance for attention, kept his daughter away from prying hands by keeping her in the garden.

Lyvia didn’t mind as she could watch the mortals down below with the garden’s lakes. Every day she watched as the mortals struggled day in and day out, working and fighting against one another and finding it amusing when one should proclaim their love for her. But as the days went by, Lyvia started to feel an emptiness inside of her.

Day in and day out, she watched as mortal woman found love, baring children into the world. It left her envious for she had a soft spot for young innocents. She longed to hold a small child close to her chest, to sing sweet lullabies to calm their cries, to enjoy the simple outlook a child had on the world and teach a young mind the world around them.

But Zaman since refused to let her out of the garden or to let any man into his home, she could never have a child of her own with a man or god.

However, Lyvia was not without her cleverness.

If she could not have a child with another man or god, then she would have a child that she made herself. For long nights, Lyvia searched through her father’s ancient knowledge, looking over notes and studies for any hope to make a child. She asked her father, begging him if he had any idea how to make this child without a man.

Zaman, while not pleased of his daughter’s idea, could not provide her with any answers to her task. For how could child be born without both a woman and a man?

This did not stop Lyvia from trying to find an answer. Years went by, fruitless night searching her father’s study proved to be a useless chase. So, she called for the oldest god for help. Veleda, the eldest Goddess of Fates. Hoping Veleda had what she seeked, the younger god told Veleda of her woes and her desire.

Pitying the young goddess, Veleda whispered into her ear of what she deeply desired.

Joy leapt into Lyvia’s heart, and the goddess was filled with happiness. She thanked Veleda, setting off at once to fill out her heart’s desire.

With her new knowledge, she quickly set to work making her child. She told her father of her plan, begging him to gather what was needed to make her child. Hesitant, Zaman carried out his daughter’s wishes, for he wished his daughter only happiness.

Gathering all that she needed, Lyvia set to work making her child. But it was not a task that could be accomplished in a single night.

Despite following Veleda’s every word and task needed, Lyvia could not make a child. Her attempts would end with failure with disappointment and sadness filling the goddess’s heart. Still, she persisted, determined to have her child, no matter how long it took or how many times she failed.

Night after night she tried to make her child, and night after night she failed. With each failure, Lyvia wept with sadness, not understanding how she could not make a child. She deeply believed in Veleda’s shared knowledge, refusing to stop till she had her child in her arms.

Many long nights went by, until the ninth month one night, when Lyvia’s stubbornness finally paid off when a child’s first breath cried into the night sky. Her many trails and errors had finally rewarded her with the child she longed for.

Her very own baby girl.

)*(

Once word had gotten out that Lyvia had brought the new little god into the world, many flooded the hill hoping to see this newborn. Zaman still kept many of the men away from his home, but allowed some gods to enter, bearing gifts for his grandchild.

“Oh man goodness! Look at her! She’s absolutely prefect Lyvia! Look at her little fingers~! And her pudgy face! That’s a face of a troublemaker, I can tell.”

Caitlin, the Goddess of Felines and Large Beasts, cooed at the new little god wrapped in fine silk blankets in Lyvia’s arms. She was short in height with a big build in her body, though she claimed that she wasn’t round and just pudgy on all sides. Her skin was dark with patches of white on her skin here and there, dressed in animal skins that made her look more feline if her tail and ears and cat like face weren’t enough.

“Oi! You said that exact same thin’ ‘bout me own kids! N’ they all turned out fine!” Someone shouted from across the room.

It was the well-known God of War, Coriander. He was an odd ball god, not only for his short stature and even shorter temper, but for always wearing his armor and never taking it off, even when there was no war going on. No god or mortal has ever seen his face due to his large helmet and bright golden orange hair covering his eyes.

“Are you still wearing that dusty thing?! For the Sisters sake, take it off! That thing is covered in blood and who knows what else!” Caitlin chastise, her tail swishing to and fro. “In fact, don’t come any nearer than you are! I don’t want you making the baby sick!”

“But Ah want tae look at the lil’ one!”

“Darling, your own wife wouldn’t let you hold your kids in that thing.”

The hairs on Coriander’s neck stood on end, bristling with anger as he quickly turned on his heels and hissed. “Shut yer peck neck mouth Grunde!”

Grunde, the God of Music, simply smiled easily as he smoothly stepped around the smaller god. Grunde was a more easy going god than the rest, favoring as what he call, a time before it reaches its popular. He dressing was questionable as his clothing covered most of his body in a red scarlet that had stone sewn in, making him sparkle in the light. Not to mention how he had asked the builders for his sandals to have very questionable extensions, making him just as tall as the rest of the gods around him. While his dressing was questionable, it was his hair that caught most attention. Every dark hair on top of his head was somehow pulled up into a large bouncing ball of puffy hair.

No one was sure how the god had managed such a task, or how he could do such absurd thing and somehow managing to make it look fitting on him. Maybe it was his bazaar nature. Maybe it was just how he was. Or maybe, just maybe, he did it all just to annoy Coriander.

It was well known that the two had a long lasting rivalry. No one knows or remembers how their rivalry began, but it was clear that the two would never truly get along with each other.

“My my! So this is the new little god I’ve heard about!” Grunde made his way over, taking in the sight of the newborn. “Magnificent! She is truly stunning! Almost like her mother!”

Lyvia blushed, hugging her daughter close. “She has father’s blue eyes and my fair skin. I’m hoping that when she gets older, she’ll have my singing talent and father’s wisdom.”

“A grand thing to hope for darling!” Grunde cheered. “It will be a grand day to hear two lovely ladies singing together!”

“Jus’ as long as ya don’t spread yer gaudy taste in fashion to the child!” Coriander shouted. “We suffer ‘nough with you lookin’ like a walkin’ tomato!”

Grunde’s face turned red with anger, spinning around and storming up to Coriander where the two started shouting insults at each other that were so loud, gods could hear it from four corridors away.

The baby in Lyvia’s arm started to squirm as the shouting from the two gods disturbed her nap. Her face scrunched in discomfort and as the shouting continued, getting louder and louder with each insult, she started to cry.

“Now look what you to idiots have done!” Caitlin growled, her eyes turning sharp with anger. “You went and disturbed the baby!” With an angry growl, she stormed over to the two, grabbing each of them by the neck and dragged them out of the room. “If neither of you can behave, then you shouldn’t bother showing up!”

Lyvia could only watch as the two gods were dragged out of the room with loud protests before her attention went back to her crying child. “Shh, it’s okay young one. Mother is here. I’m here. I’m here.” She whispered soft words to her child, rocking herself back and forth till the child’s cries settled into whimpers and then lulled to slumber.

“I’m impressed.” A deep old voice startled the young god, but relaxed at the sight of her father standing in the doorway. “You hadn’t had her for more than one night and already seem like a natural at this.”

“Father. I didn’t see you there. Have you’ve come to lecture me again?”

Zaman chuckled, rubbing his short white beard. “No, no. I just wanted to see my daughter and her child.”

“Then come say hello. She is your granddaughter.” Lyvia smiled, beckoning her father forward and showing her child with love. “Isn’t she wonderful? One day, she’ll be big and strong and ruling over the mortals like a real god. And she will be well known to all.”

“Don’t make hasty predictions just yet my child. Let her be a child for now and a powerful being later.” Zaman lightly touched his grandchild’s cheek. “I want to enjoy having a grandkid around for a long time.”

Lyvia giggled, kissing her child’s head.

The happy moment did not last however, as the room suddenly felt cold and dead. Lyvia’s eyes were suddenly wide with fear and her skin turned a pale color. Zaman’s three eyes narrowed, turning towards the doorway where cries of shock and horror were emanating.

“So our final guest has arrived.” Zaman spoke slowly, his cape fluttering as he stepped out of the room and made his way to the main room where it was filled with gods and goddesses. They all were pressed against the walls, fear etched onto their faces as whispers filled the room with eyes trained on the one lone being that stood in the center.

The being was tall, taller than any god in the room. Even taller than Grunde without any silly sandal extensions. The being was covered by a dark cloak that concealed their identity, standing tall and straight that demanded respected with their hood covered head held high and their golden eyes void of any emotion other than disdain and irritation glowing in the darkness deep inside the hood.

“What’s he doing here?”

“No one has died yet have they?”

“Gods don’t die! We’re immortal!”

“Has he come to curse the child?”

“How evil!”

“Well! How… unexpected to see you here.” Zaman smiled, though it seemed forced and lacking of any real qualities of a smile. “What brings the God of Death to my humble home Se-?”

“Do not speak that name to me.” The dark god hissed through gritted teeth, pulling his hood back. “That name was given by mortals. I refused to be associated with anything they may claim to know about beings like us.”

Zaman frowned. “Come on, you don’t really expect us to call you by that ridicules name you keep insisting to use. Sepht—”

“Snatcher! It’s Snatcher!” The god hissed, his tongue flicking in and out like a serpent. “You better do well to remember that Tim!”

“Now there’s no need for you to get angry… Snatcher.” Zaman sighed with reluctance. “And why do you keep calling me Tim? I never get that with you.”

“Tim just seems like a you name.” Snatcher shrugged.

“Oi! Is there a reason where yer here spook?! Or did ya jus’ come here tae spoil the party?!” Coriander shouted, being one of few brave gods to not back down from Snatcher’s unsettling presence. Caitlin slapped him behind his helmet as Snatcher glanced over his shoulder, his long black locks falling like a river that raced down his back.

“Well if it isn’t the whole gang.” His mouth twisted into a wide unwelcoming grin that took up have of his pale face. “CC, Grooves… you.”

Coriander fumed, and Caitlin with several gods rushed to restrain him before he could do anything risky.

“As much as reunions are fun, I’m here for more serious matters.” Snatcher turned to glare at each god and goddess. “It seems that someone thought it was funny to sneak into my domain and rip a piece of my cloak out.”

With dramatic flair, Snatcher threw open his cloak, revealing his thin body and a massive noticeable tear in his cape. A silence over took the room as everyone stare in shock at the noticeable tear in the cloak.

“Now, normally I should feel offended. Immensely angry as well. But! Since this is a special day celebrating your grandkid’s birth Timmy, I’m feeling oddly… generous.”

Zaman cringed at the nickname, trying hard not to look Snatcher in the eye. “And what would that be?”

“It’s simple!” Snatcher threw his arms wide. “All I want is the culprit to step forward so we can have a… little chat down in the Underworld. We wouldn’t want to spoil this day any further now do we? Now, will the offender please step forward?”

No one moved.

They all remained in place where they stood, eyeing the Underworld Lord warily. Zaman could see the fear on their faces. No one wanted to step forward. And for good reason. Snatcher wasn’t called the Lord of the Underworld without reason.

For a god with thin, almost bone and lanky build, he was no pushover. His power was almost unmatched next to Zaman’s, with a dark thirst for war and gruesome battles that led to the death. Most had heard rumors that since he got tired of trying to wash out all the blood in his clothes, he wore dark colors to hide his enemies blood. And dark was right.

All his clothes, to his shirt and gloves, to his barbarous choice to wear pants. Even his boots were dark in black color. What type of god wore pants?!

It was uncivil for the Sisters sake!

“Come on people. It’s not really like you’ve got any choice in the matter. I just want what’s mine back, and we can all go our separate ways! It’s that simple!”

“Well maybe the culprit isn’t here, have you thought of that?!”

Heads turned to the doorway. Lyvia stood there, shaken and holding her child tightly in her arms.

“Y-You… you are not welcomed here Lord of Death! This is supposed to be a happy time for celebration of my daughter’s birth.”

“Lyvia, don’t dare draw any attention to yourself!” Zaman hissed.

“Oh! So it’s a girl then?” Snatcher strode forward, taking long strides with his long limbs. “I’ll admit that I was a little curious to see if the rumors were true about you having a kid. Guess they were right!” He shoved aside Zaman as the older god tried to stop him, stopping to stand in front of Lyvia and grin down at her. Since he was so tall, he had to bend over just to look her in the eyes at her level but still towering over her.

Lyvia was frozen on the spot as the God of Death stared her down. She couldn’t move nor grab up the courage to look away from the cold dead golden eyes that seemed to pull her in and drag her into an abyss that was slowly both drowning her and sucking her soul right out of her body.

“Peck neck spook!” Coriander shouted, drawing Snatcher’s attention away from Lyvia, snapping her out of whatever trance she was in as she gasped for air and almost lost her strength to stand.

“Hey now! We don’t need foul language around the kid! I’m sure Lyvia would appreciate if you didn’t taint her kid’s innocence with such dirty language. After all, little… I sorry, what was the kid’s name again?”

Lyvia jumped back as Snatcher turned his gaze on her again. This time she managed to keep her eyes down and not look into his eyes. “Get out. Get out if you are not here to celebrate my child’s birth and only intend to bring disaster. Like you always do.”

Snatcher scoffed. “If you can’t even look someone in the eye to tell them off, then there’s no way they’ll listen to you.” He turned his gaze to the child.

Wide blue eyes stared at him, woken by the commotion and found a new stranger staring at them.

Snatcher grinned as he leaned down close to the child, his grin widening as Lyvia shivered with fear. When his face was close enough, his skin darkened and his jaws pulled back, showing off his rows of long thin sharp teeth as his eyes glowed an unnatural yellow, hissing like a snake with a fork tongue dragging across his fangs.

The child’s eyes widened. Everyone braced themselves for the child to burst out crying. Scarred forever with a deep terror of the dark ruler.

But to everyone’s surprise and shock the child did burst out.

Laughing.

Snatcher reeled back in shock, his face returning to its normal dead pale skin and dark bags under the eyes. He stared at the child that continued to laugh at him, smiling brightly with her eyes twinkling with joy.

“… you… need to have that kid checked out.” He grumbled, backing away slowly with his eyes never leaving the child before turning around and storming out of the building with his torn cape fluttering behind him.

Once everyone was sure he was gone, their eyes turned to Lyvia and her child. The new mother stood there in shock. What had her child just done? Did she really just laugh in the face of death? She looked to her child, seeing her yawn and snuggle against her chest, falling right back to sleep.

“… Whelp! It’s official!” Coriander drew everyone’s attention. “Ah like this lass!”

“Are you drunk Coriander?!”

“Lyvia’s child just laughed at the Lord of DEATH!”

“That’s not normal! Even for a god!”

“But that’s where yer wrong! Lyvia’s child ain’t normal! The lass was made by Lyvia n’ her alone with no spouse! Ya can’t blame her or the kid fer that! We’ve never seen a god bein’ created out of the usual way, so we can’t really expect anythin’ normal!”

Murmurs drifted in the air as Zaman reached for his daughter, guiding her someplace to sit down after the whole ordeal.

“N’ besides, that peck neck had it comin’! He’s been a knife tae our side fer as long as we can remember.” The murmurs turned into agreements as many recalled the many ‘pranks’ the Snatcher had oh-so-kindly given them over the many, many years. “Ah say that it’s high time that spook was put in his place. That it was time we put him where he belongs! Fer him tae keep out of our business n’ stick rrrrrrrright where it can go!”

Cheers erupted and soon the whole room was in uproar, throwing insults and crud remarks about the Snatcher. Caitlin and Grunde watched as the room slowly turned into a crazy party that was supposed to be a celebration of a birth of a child.

“… please tell me most of them weren’t drinking when them came to this party.” Caitlin sighed, rubbing her face as a headache started to form.

Grunde sighed as many gods took out goblets and filled them with the finest wine. “Before, during, and probably after the party darling.”

[takingcourage]

The Start of Forever - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Drake x MC

Word Count: 2,387

Series Summary: The wedding has passed and the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria are free to begin their lives together away from the constraints of court. While honeymooning in Texas, they’re confronted with questions from their past that raise implications about their future. (Slight AU)

Chapter Summary: Drake and Jena spend some time alone after a difficult conversation with his mother. 

Author’s Note: Whew! Apologies for the unexpected hiatus on this story. Now that I have some free time again, I should be able to finish posting this story. I appreciate your patience through the long delay!

Tagging: @andy-loves-corgis, @carabeth, @speedyoperarascalparty

All things considered, Karen Walker had been rather more understanding than she’d expected. As Jena loaded her cereal bowl into the dishwasher, she thought back over the painstaking conversation that had ended less than an hour before.

Drake had not underestimated the effect that their news would have on his mother. On learning that her son had been given a duchy, color had drained slowly from the older woman’s face until a dull white shell was all that remained. In spite of her polite responses, the visceral reactions had been painful for all three of them.

Shortly after their previous discussion had finished, Karen had pulled Drake aside for a private word. After what she'd seen over the past eighteen hours, Jena could only hope that the woman was doing him no further damage.

She tried to convince herself that she’d done nothing but hurry along the inevitable, but guilt assailed her all the same. This certainly wasn’t the way she’d envisioned this day going. At this point, so much of their morning had been consumed by unpleasant conversation that she wondered if Drake would want to leave early for their night back in Dallas. She glanced a the stovetop clock, trying not to get her hopes up.

The quiet intonations from down the hall were at least somewhat reassuring. There had been no yelling -- of that was certain. If she was venturing to guess, she didn’t think she’d heard anything that sounded like crying either. Both seemed like signs in favor of productive conversation between mother and son.

Jena found a rag draped across the head of the faucet, dampened it, and set about clearing crumbs from the table. As she finished the final swipe across the width, she sensed a presence coming toward her.

“You don’t have to do that, Wittman.” The soft-spoken words startled out of her thoughts, despite her intuition.

“I know. But I needed something to do.” She cupped her hand underneath the cloth and shook the contents into a nearby trash can. “You doing okay?” Having rinsed the rag, she returned it to its former spot and rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans.

“Fine.” His brown eyes were trained on her, and she raised a quizzical brow as he opened and shut his mouth. Eventually, the words ventured forth. “Would you be interested in going riding? I was hoping to get the chance to show you around the ranch…”

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” she assured, still taking in his appearance.

Drake looked tired. It was evident in the exaggerated slackness of the skin around his eyes. A pang of guilt plagued her as she contrasted this with their time at the cabin. He’d been so peaceful there. After all of the stress she’d seen on that face in the past months, it sickened her to think that she’d been the cause of more.

“Good. We may as well get over to the stables. Have you ever actually saddled a horse, Wittman?” He raised his brow in challenge.

“No, but I think I’m about to learn how.” 

“Just as long as you don’t go scaring the horses. I don’t want to have to reenact that rescue from the derby.”

Jena scoffed at the slight, shaking her head in disbelief as she followed him out the front door. “You know that’s not how it happened, Walker.”

“Of course not,” he acquiesced, treating her to a half smile. She rolled her eyes and fell into step at his side, slipping her fingers into his. 

Jena had only ridden horses a few times during childhood, but she’d adjusted to the practice fairly quickly after coming to Cordonia. When she wasn’t taking day-long treks for foxhunting, she found that she actually enjoyed it very much -- especially when she was fortunate enough to have her husband’s company.

Riding around his family’s property spawned memories of exploring Valtoria with him on horseback, and she felt a pang of longing for their home. There was so much waiting for them when they returned. As much as she had enjoyed the honeymoon, some part of her was giddy at the thought of starting real life together.

Today, however, she was focused on Drake’s wellbeing. Other than the extremely thorough instructions as he’d guided her through the process of saddling the horses, he’d been fairly quiet since coming to find her in the kitchen. Jena's mind overflowed with words that could fill the silence, but nothing felt right. She breathed a grateful sigh when he chose to speak instead.

“I was pretty upset with you this morning, Wittman. I was sitting there drinking coffee and thinking that you were being unreasonable -- that you’d judged my mom too harshly. I’m not so sure anymore.”

The uncertainty in his voice halted her instinctive response. Jena breathed out slowly through her nose, biding her time in case there was more he wanted to say.

“I’ve never felt so angry with her before. She can doubt me all she wants, but doubting you -- I never thought she’d go that far. That’s a line she shouldn’t have crossed. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore...”

“For the record, I didn’t want to be right,” Jena admitted softly, grateful that they kept their horses at a relaxed pace so that she could meet his gaze. Her heart clenched at the distance in his deep brown eyes. “I just know what it’s like to defend someone who doesn’t deserve it. Finding out they’re not who you thought they were...it’s a hard pill to swallow.” She fiddled with the leather reins between her fingers, hoping that she was treading lightly enough to cause no offense.

“Your dad?” he asked simply.

Nodding, she met his eyes. The distant look gave way to a tenderness that mirrored her own worry for him, and she was struck by just how broken both of their families had been. “I wasted a lot of years making excuses for him, Drake. When I finally forgave him, it wasn’t because he’d done anything to deserve it. I just needed closure.” Drake stretched out a hand and she took it gratefully before continuing. “I don’t want you to have to go through all of that with your mom. I hope you’re able to figure things out and find a way to start over, but please don’t beat yourself up about it if you’re not.”

Her husband sighed, taking his time to respond as he turned his gaze to the horizon. “I sort of have to. I mean, dad’s not around any more. She doesn’t exactly have anyone else.”

Jena shook her head in an attempt to clear the conflicting emotions. She’d realized long ago that his protective instinct would have a propensity for getting them in trouble. She just hadn’t expected the trouble to take this form. “You always want to defend the people you care about, Drake. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you -- one of the things I love most about you too. But sometimes you have to think about protecting yourself. Sometimes that may even mean letting others protect you.”

“I don’t like to have people worrying about me.”

“We’ve been over this before…”

“I know. And sometimes having you around to worry about me is a good thing. I wouldn’t have come clean with my mom if it hadn’t been for you.”

“I hope it was the right decision.” She’d spent the past several hours second guessing her encouragement from the night before. “Did things...go okay?”

“Heh.”

She waited several moments, but he elaborated no further. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she ventured finally.

“Just that I think it’s going to take some time for her to adjust to the idea that I’m a noble and that I’m staying in Cordonia for good. But I think some part of her is proud too. Maybe someday she’ll come around to the idea that I’m not just wasting my life over there.”

“Does she really think that?” The words felt strangled as Jena worked them out of her throat. So many of her early interactions with Drake became clearer as she considered Karen’s likely influence.

He clicked his tongue to encourage the horse, but her question remained unanswered. Several paces later, he came to a sudden stop. Jena pulled the reins gently and dismounted to stand beside him in the tall grass.

“We’ll let the horses graze for a bit.”

She stroked the mare’s bony cheek and dropped the reins, putting her hands in her pockets instead. Squinting against the mid-morning sun, she followed Drake to a line of fencing nearby. Green stretched before them on every side, the light wind stirring long blades of grass into mesmerizing waves. She wondered vaguely if this was the sight that had enticed Karen to come back from Cordonia. Out here, in the warmth of late spring, it wasn’t hard to imagine the appeal that this land must have held.

Drake leaned against the nearest post, a wrinkle forming between his brows. With ease, Jena mounted the fence beside him, steadying herself with a certain hand.

Did I cross a line? Why hasn’t he answered my question? Jena hated the thought that her carelessness might have caused such distress. A week ago, she wouldn’t have been so bothered by the thought. Now, as this man’s wife, she felt some measure of responsibility to read his mind. The notion was ridiculous, but present nonetheless. Just as she was clearing her throat, he spoke.

“I’m not sure what my mother thinks anymore. She didn’t take it very well when I moved back to Cordonia. Wanted me to forge my own path instead of running back to the palace.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Going back?” At her nod, he continued. “I had a lot of questions at the time, but in a way, mom’s right. I’d been following Liam around for so long that it was easier to just settle back into that when I came back from the States. It took me a while to find where I belonged in all of it.  But no, I don’t regret it. Cordonia is home.”

“You’ve found your way now. And with or without the courtly graces, you’re still Drake Walker,” she beamed encouragingly. “I just wish your mom had taken the chance to get to who that man is.” A fresh sting of remorse accompanied the words, and she looped her fingers around the hand that rested beside her on the fence.

Drake interlocked his fingers with her own and lifted his face tentatively. “I think I’d like for her to get the chance to.”

Her pulse quickened at the meaning that underpinned his words. Biting her tongue, she shifted her weight toward him and took in his pensive expression.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He hiked a hand through his hair. “But I’m not sure I’d ever forgive myself if I cut the relationship off completely. I’d always wonder if things could have been different. I’m not saying that I want to come out here for Christmases or anything, but--” preoccupied, he ceased speaking as she squeezed his hand. 

“I’ll support whatever you choose, Drake. I can’t say I have a very good first impression of her, but I respect how much she means to you. If I had any hope of my dad changing for the better, I’d probably make the same choice.” Her tone grew wistful at the impossible notion. “But I think we’re going to have to find a compromise. I don’t want you bending over backward to make her a part of our lives if she won’t even meet you halfway. You can’t do that to yourself, Drake.”

“Agreed.”

“So she’s going to have to understand that there are boundaries she can’t cross. It’s going to take some time for us to establish trust again.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he considered, stroking her knuckles with his thumb as he looked to her face. “She’s been through a lot, Jena. I don’t want to put her through more than she deserves.”

“I know,” she responded quickly to the flash of pain in his eyes. “But if she puts you through more than you deserve, she’ll have me to contend with.” Although her tone was light, they both knew that the threat was genuine.

He hoisted himself onto the fence beside her, dropping his hands to his sides. “I never thought I’d be so happy to get back to Valtoria, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

She offered a wry smile. “I am too. I know we’re going to try to work things out here, but I can’t wait to get back to Dallas and then home.”

“It’s the last night of our trip, Wittman. How do you want to spend it?”

“Seeing as it’s the last night of our honeymoon,” she emphasized, “I was thinking room service, hot tub, and…some drinks.”

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“I’m not going overboard though. We’ve got a day full of traveling tomorrow.”

“We’ll sleep it off on the plane.”

“Maybe you will," she joked, hopping down from the fence. “I’ll be awake for it all.”

“Even if I keep you up all night?”

Jena threw him a look over her shoulder. "That didn’t exactly work for the trip out here." He extended a hand toward her and she settled into the space between his legs, running her palms against toned thighs that were stretched taut from his heels pressing into the lower rail.

"I’ll take that as a challenge.” The glint in his eyes sent tendrils of heat through her core.

“Just keeping you on your toes, Walker.” 

Drake shook his head at her accompanying wink. 

“Ready when you are,” she announced, rising to the tips of her toes. Drake cradled her cheek in his hand and leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft and warm, heated by the morning sun. She snaked her arms around his waist and melted into him with pleasure. When she finally pulled away, it took several moments for her head to clear.

The kiss told her all she needed to know. They would make it through this.  Together. 

[ilovehighhats]

Reticulum, ch. 01

I’ve been sitting on this way too long...

John Brown wasn’t always John Brown.

For instance, he was born Ricardo Sanchez. Not too daunting a name. So, when he used to be a CIA operative he worked under several aliases: Tim Perkins, Paul Schwartz, Karim Sayif.

He considered himself a patriot. That’s why after Joker’s attacks on Gotham he felt the need to do more. Being one of the dozens of unimportant agents, stationed in an unimportant country, tracking as it ultimately turned out insignificant people… That wasn’t enough. He wanted to be someone who could do things really ensuring the safety of his compatriots - both domestic and abroad.

This is how he ended in DHS. The Department of Homeland Security, still shiny and new and building up its ranks. Brown fit right in, with other idealistic hotheads and solemn gruff men.

Bane’s siege of Gotham was the event that shook him to his core again. All those unimportant people he used to trace, suddenly were way more threatening than he could ever imagine. Led by one of the goons who, back in his CIA days, seemed trivial and inferior. Who names himself Bane? Is every third-country warlord or a mercenary worth the hassle of a laborious operation prepared to infiltrate his organisation? When there are coups, civil wars, genocides and other atrocities, all around?

James used to think of those people as lesser men. He read an account once, of a woman kidnapped, abused, tortured until she didn’t even resent her abductor and it only solidified this conclusion. Animals. There were exceptions, there were reasons and explanations, but ultimately he didn’t care. Not unless they were big names with prospects of big promotion attached to their file.

Bane was one of those unimportant meagre mercenaries to him.

That is, until League of shadows, under his command,  invaded his country.

He found all the faults and flaws of his understanding of the importance of marked targets. He learned how dangerous a mass of anonymous savages could be when led by a madman. The worst part was, he encountered Bane before and thought him ridiculous and inconsequential.

He was there for his colleagues whining over a witness who apparently suffered a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome. But neither them, nor their superiors felt the need to waste their time and resources on some hired gun working in forgotten parts of the world. After all, there were coups, civil wars, genocides and other atrocities to be taken care of...   

But then the forgotten came to their home and mangled its shiny city. Gotham was in ruins. Saved in the last minute by a vigilante, no less. The animals who Brown hunted down held the entire nation hostage and the government danced to their tune, scorned and shamed by the world. Their president, a figure of contempt between the leaders, thrust down from his pedestal of the leader of a free world.

Some leader, with a foreign terrorist cell right in the middle of his lands, occupying a city, gambling with millions of lives. For months. To all those atrocities that were happening beyond blown up bridges, the country sends only one group of operatives. And they were unsuccessful, their lifeless bodies hanging for all to see, displayed as yet another mockery, right in their face.

Batman’s rescue of Gotham was a fluke. Brown promised to himself he would never let a criminal seem too unimportant to catch.

And he’d start his penance with making sure his biggest mistake was really dead and buried.

oOo

There was no body.

Brown read through all of the reports on Bane and his activities during the siege. The last day he has seen people reported him fighting the police and Batman, an old-fashioned brawl on the steps of City Hall. Stupid. Bane was not a stupid animal, he was cunning, so why did he go along with that pitiful last stand of Gotham's finest? Why did he lose control of his city? Where did he go?

There weren’t many leads in his investigation, most of them have been thoroughly followed by his predecessors who took Bane more seriously. Like Bill. Until recently no one knew that Bane was the one responsible for Bill Wilson's death, that he orchestrated the crash of the plane in Uzbekistan, he faked Pavel’s death. The mercenary must have known of Wilson's obsession with him, and he used it to his advantage, killing two birds with one stone. Now, Brown was left with boxes of information that was carefully and systematically checked.

There was one nugget of possibility left, though.

The scribe, the one who was abducted by Bane and then left in a hospital in Armenian countryside. A very unusual thing to do for any kidnapper, and especially for someone as meticulous and organised as Bane. Brown read her files over and over again, and he saw all the blunders his fellow agents did. How they let her lie blatantly to their faces. How they misplaced tapes and left him only with copies of transcripts, old and faded. How they left big unanswered holes in her testimony. How no one followed up on the facts, she did provide.

He used up his vacation days to visit the hospital and the doctor who treated her. He found the monastery.

No leads were left there.

The doctor wasn’t eager to cooperate, and Brown did not have any means of making him talk. The monastery was inhabited by monks, and they didn’t let him walk around and check the rooms he read about.

This was a wild goose chase. The only foothold he had was the scribe. So he went to talk with the woman herself.

Norway was beautiful. He fell in love with deep sky over his head, the rolling clouds and tempestuous see in harmony even though they were ever changing. It was damn expensive though, and he wondered how a scribe could afford a stated of the art house out in the country, in what looked like a very prosperous place. Granted, the cottage wasn’t very big, but it was very obviously new and packed with all amenities, and to top it off designed by someone minimalistic and practical.

In other words, it must have cost a fortune, and not a small one.

He parked his car way down and had a nice stroll first on the tarmac road, and then up some steps. Broad wooden planks were first, then the path wound down to flat stones, and the entryway was hidden between a wall of natural rock and the glass panel of the house itself. Hidden from view, secluded and cosy.

He knocked and heard a faint woman's voice reply,

“Come in!”

The door opened easily, and he tentatively peeked inside.

“Mrs Wolf?”

There was a murmur of fabric somewhere to his left, and he stepped in to get a better look. His host was in bed, weirdly raised way above the level of the house, clearly waiting for someone else than him.

Awkward.

She had a coughing fit which let Brown look around the house undisturbed. It looked like she was alone.

“Who are you?” She wheezed out eventually. “I was actually waiting for a friend to pick me up, I don't have much time before my visit to the doctors.”

“I see. My name is Brown. I'm with Homeland Security.“ He tried to be as pleasant as possible. This was his only lead.

The woman scoffed.

“Homeland,“ she practically spat. “Wouldn’t it be easier to understand if you said you’re with US Government?”

“Perhaps,” he said to placate her. He read the reports by other agencies and knew that she could be openly hostile. “I was wondering if we could have a talk. When you get better, of course.”

“Concerning what?”

“Bane.”

He observed as her face solidified into a stagnant mask. Was this trauma of the abduction, or was she hiding something else?

“Why would you want to talk with me about a dead man?”

“A missing man,” he corrected.

“Why would you want to talk with me about a missing man then?”

This was too much to be just a reflexive reaction to having her peace disturbed. She was hiding something. She knew something.

“I think you are a person he might want to contact.” The try was a gamble. It was true, and he did think that Bane could contact her, however, he left his cards too exposed if she was a seasoned liar and manipulator.

“He didn't through last ten years. I'll let you know if he changes his mind. Leave a card on the stairs please.” The dismissal was plain to see.

He wanted to try one more time to placate her. He could work the information out.

But then the door at the front of the cottage opened, glass panels sliding without effort, and in came a tall man. Like he was at home here.

“Helena,“ he greeted the host but kept his eyes firmly on Brown.

He came through the terrace. Thick scarf peeked out from a navy blue jacket, jeans were tucked in big brown boots, messenger bag hanging off one shoulder. He looked harmless enough, especially when he moved, wobbling carefully closer, the pain of every step visible in a rigid way he held himself.

But there was something off. His eyes were too sharp. Too familiar.

“We should go soon,“ he said. Nodded at Brown. “Tony Dorrance.“

“John Brown.”

Neither offered a hand to shake, but they kept observing each other.

What was it about this guy?

“You better go,” Dorrance said. His voice had an edge to it, a glimmer of certainty and command that was not meshing well with the image of a tired scholar.

The woman had another coughing fit, so Brown just nodded and left.

He would try to contact the woman again, and until then he will be mulling over that man. Who was he exactly?

oOo

Anthony Dorrance was an interesting man.

He was the person Helena Wolf talked about when she rambled on to him about her precious friend left to die in Gotham. Did she really believe what she said? Was she delusional?

Did Dorrance was such masterful manipulator he could pretend to be two people at the same time?

Brown started the work on him the usual way. Databases had the most rudimentary info; DOB, education, some jobs, some things he wrote. But it got interesting when he got to the pictures. The scars hinted at life way more interesting than the one portrayed in his files.

So he started working the man backwards.

He was in Norway for only a few weeks. Arrived with a plane from London. Both cottages were his, acquired a few years prior, so that wasn't suspicious in the least. What was, however, was how he got them. It turned out that the guy was not only a talented physicist but also a historian. Dealing with antiquities; old books and manuscripts mostly.

Suspicious.

Brown tried to trace his moves before London, and there he struck gold. The guy appeared in Azores two months after Gotham. But prior to that? A big black mysterious hole. He was in Gotham until May the previous year, but there was no movement in the months leading to the occupation of the city.

Was he there?

His name was on the list of suspected victims, struck down when he reported back to the British consulate on San Miguel.

How did he get from a besieged city to an archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic? And no less than five weeks after the occupation was thwarted? Why? Why didn’t he report to the authorities in the USA? Why wasn’t there any mentions of him crossing the border before the Azores?

Very suspicious.

Brown tracked Dorrance’s history backwards all the way down to his birth, but it didn’t yield much good.

He turned back to the Gotham episode. He turned up the photos and compared.

Did his eyes resemble Bane’s?

oOo

Much to Brown’s dismay, the forensic facial comparison was a flop.

Bane’s face was hidden by the mask the only visible parts were his eyes and two lines extending over them up to the middle of his head. Not nearly enough for any comparison.

But his gut told him he was onto something.

He decided to approach this problem differently. He had a plethora of Bane’s pictures, so he gathered all the ones of Dorrance too and tried to see if there were any similarities. He found some, but not many. The slope of his shoulders, perhaps. His pointed stare, and the colour of his eyes.

Even to himself, all of that sounded pathetic.

Once, in the middle of the night working an entirely different case, he remembered a detail. Gotham’s police commissioner had a run in with Bane, just before the siege.

Brown went to interview Gordon, which turned out to be a bizarre experience.

“So you're saying kid, that he isn't dead?”

“He is presumed dead, and I would like to make sure of it. There was no body.”

“Yeah, like with Batman.”

“Exactly. Do you remember anything that could help identify him?”

Gordon scoffed, looking over the city. He invited Brown to the roof, which seemed odd at first. Even more so when the agent noticed brand new Bat-Signal waiting in the corner, the lamp pointed upwards, ready to call in a hero.

But he was dead. Wasn’t he?

“So many people focused on his bulk… I see what you're doing here, kid. You have good instincts.” The commissioner shook his head, trying to grasp faint wisps of recollection.

“Let me walk through what happened there. I went in pursuit down to the sewers. Two guys with me. Some idiot started shooting, and I don't know what blew up, but there was a big explosion. I was overwhelmed and got a nice hit to the head. If I were younger by twenty years then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Well, they dragged me down the tunnels and brought to Bane.”

He stopped and frowned deeply.

“He was crouching, shirtless. There was a scar running the length of his spine, a nasty, ropey thing. No marks on his chest, as far as I could see. Some burns on his shoulders, but old and faded. I didn't get a long look at him, I was pretending to be dizzy. But what I remember the most is how enormous he seemed. Raw and brutal power radiating off him. Later, when I watched him on the television, he was still formidable, but I can't shake this dread that I felt then. Because he was terrifying even when relaxed.”

This was pure gold.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

“You don’t think he’s dead, kid, do you?”

“I don't. There is a lead. A woman he might have wanted to contact.”

“What woman would be with a monster like that?”

“Maybe she’s a monster too.”

“Maybe.”

oOo

Armed with information from Gordon, Brown started working on Dorrance full time. He screened all of his accounts, all of his books, everything he could find on the man.

He was squeaky clean. Too clean to be genuine.

The fervour of righteousness burned in his chest, the elation propelling him forward.

His work suffered, but Brown was sure that finding Bane was imperative. Proving that Dorrance was him. That the terrorist who planned to kill millions with a bomb was alive and living peacefully, while all those families of thousands of his victims despaired.

And then he got a visit that stoked his conviction even more, that motivated him to try harder still.

He was looking at pictures of Dorrance, the scientist caught unawares shopping and walking around town. The last of the work Brown managed to squeeze while he still was in Norway.

Then someone brought a bag over his head and bound his wrist behind the chair. So fast he barely could comprehend what happened before he was panting quickly into the rough fabric scratching his nose. He couldn't see a thing but felt a presence shift beside him.

“You are investigating Bane,” the person said. It was a man, and he had some weird piece of tech that made his voice unrecognisable. Growling lowly, threateningly.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Batman,” the man said.

“Batman is dead.”

“As is Bane.”

“I have evidence that he may be alive.”

“I saw him die.”

“Did you check his body?”

“He was struck by a rocket, straight in the chest, then propelled ten feet away with a blast. He can’t be alive.”

“How are you not dead then?”

“A trick.”

“Are you the only person in the world capable of such tricks?”

There was no answer. He struggled against his bounds and found out that the knots were loosely tied. On purpose.

When he took the bag away, he was once again alone in the room.

Some of Bane’s pictures were missing.

oOo

The second visit to Norway was official. Brown showed his findings to his bosses and implored. He just needed to check. To make sure. What if it turned out that this guy was somehow connected to Bane? He didn’t tell them outright he thought Dorrance was the masked man, he had enough clarity of mind not to sabotage himself this way. But he plotted and schemed. The proof that tipped the scale was Dorrance’s scientific work.

Brown convinced his people that is was all coded messages to terrorists.

The antiquities were an obvious giveaway of laundering money too.

But before the bureaucratic machine was moved into action, he wondered whether to give Mrs Wolf one last chance at redemption.

[sailorshadzter]

okay so THIS IS NOT FINAL.

im still working out a lot of details and thoughts and everything else. we can consider this a rough draft. so dont be surprised when the next thing i write involving this head canon is entirely different lmao.

anyways, something ive wanted to explore is what happens after kagome’s mortal death. inuyasha has a long life span, but she doesnt. i fully believe kagome’s soul would find inuyasha again, so thats what this is. 

again, details arent final & this might not make any sense anyways lol

but here you guys go! 

He had been alone for what felt like forever.

His children had grown and left home- though not far had they gone, his two little ones, though little they were no longer. His son that stood tall and broad, a son with silver hair and golden eyes, a son that took after him in more ways than one. Toga, named for the famed grandfather he'd never met, was the only one of his children to show any sign at all that he was part youkai, his dog-like ears and brute strength giving him away. His son was strong and stubborn, quick to anger but easy to placate, especially when he had been young. And then there was Miku, his beloved daughter and youngest child. She was beautiful, a carbon copy of her mother from her dark hair to her bright blue eyes- they had named her for the beautiful blue sky that hung overhead the day she was born. Unlike her brother, Miku was fully human, rather full of spiritual power she'd inherited from her mother.

And though he still yet had his children, he was alone.

Gone were the friends he once had- Sango and Miroku had left the mortal world years before. Their children were old, with children and grandchildren of their own. Gone was Old Kaede, lost to them not long after Miku had been born. And worse off... Gone was his love, his wife, his whole world. Kagome had died at eighty-nine, nearly twenty years ago. She had lived a full life, he supposed, bearing him two beautiful children and spending every moment with him until the very end. He had always known that death would separate them someday, for he being a hanyou meant he too held onto the long life span of a youkai, while she... Only a human... He had always known her life would end before his own, but no amount of time could have ever prepared him for losing Kagome. Nothing in this world could have prepared him for that, in truth.

He had spent the days leading up to her death in denial, thinking perhaps things would change, thinking he might wake up one day to her young and healthy. But she had passed away with him at her side one night in the spring, her soul crossing over to join Sango and Miroku and all the others death had claimed befor her.

And so, alone he was.

If it weren't for his children, he might have ended his life, for how could he live without Kagome? It had taken time, a long time, before he'd settled into a life without her. His children were his saving grace, as well as the grandchildren they'd begun to provide for him. If it weren't for them, Inuyasha knew he'd have died along with Kagome that day years ago. On the bad days, he wished he had let go, but then one of his grandchildren would tug on his sleeve and he'd smile, remembering well why he still yet lived on. He could see her in each of them- whether it was her smile or her quirks, he could see her in every single one of them. And that... That was what kept him living.

Besides, there was still yet a part of him that clung to the hope that he would see Kagome again. Their bond... It had been beyond any worldly bond. It had been a  bond of soul and heart, a bond that had transpired time more than once. And Kagome's soul had already reincarnated once, when Kikyo had died, only to find him again. Before she had died, Kagome had told him they would meet again... And so that he held onto. He believed with all of his heart that their souls were tangled in a red string of fate... So it only made sense that they would meet again. So he would find himself standing beside the well, hoping perhaps someone would come through it again. Or he would stand on the hillside and sniff the air, thinking he might catch her scent drifting along the wind.

It was a warm day in summer when Inuyasha woke from a strange dream; he'd seen this dream before, one of Kagome when they had first met, the glowing Shikon no Tama in between her palms. The light had illuminated her, casting her whole body into an eerie sort of glow, while tears streamed down her cheeks. He had reached for her but he found he was too far from her, he had tried to call out to her, but found his voice would not sound. And then, the Shikon no Tama would shatter, and Kagome would smile, a single word falling from her lips a moment before he would wake... Inuyasha...

Unable to return to sleep, Inuyasha rose up from his pallet and stepped out into the morning sunshine, momentairly blinded by the brightness. Blinking against it, he cast his gaze downwards, to where he could see Miku, a gathering of village children around her as they started to make their way towards the forest to gather herbs. Miku had taken over the role of village miko upon the day Kagome had died- and while her powers were not quite as strong nor as pure as her mother's had been, Miku still did well at protecting the village. Of course, she had  a little help from her ageless father and brother, and it seemed most youkai left their little village alone anymore.

"Father," Miku greeted as he approached, her lips curving with a smile as the children instead latched onto the hanyou. "You're awake early." She pinned him with her sapphire eyes, a look in them he'd seen hundreds of times in her mother. "It was that dream again, wasn't it?" Though Inuyasha opened his mouth to speak, he was suddenly caught off guard, a scent carried along the wind that was far too familiar for him to ignore. Miku must have noticed the look in his eyes for she corraled the children back to her side, drawing them away from her father and instead towards the forest, a strange but knowing look to her own eyes.

Turning, Inuyasha began to make his way towards the well at a run, his heart hammering hard within his chest. It just couldn't be... He didn't dare to believe it, lest he be disappointed. He didn't dare to think for a single moment that this would turn out to be anything more than his own need to see Kagome again tricking him into believing she would be standing there. But, as he approached the well he could see that there was indeed someone standing there, though their back was to him. It was a woman, with long black hair, much longer than Kagome's ever had been... But this scent... It was so like hers, not the same as Kagome's had been, but he was reminded of when he'd first met Kagome. Her scent had been so like Kikyo's, however once he'd gotten to know her he had realized it was one of her own, a scent he'd grown to love just weeks into knowing her.

Slowing to a stop, Inuyasha stood just behind the woman, his heart beating so fast he thought it might beat right out of his chest. "I was wondering when you might notice me." Her voice caught him off guard, soft and sweet, a voice he did not know, but the tone behind it well known to him even so long after he'd heard it last. When she turned around, Inuyasha nearly fainted, so unprepared was he to see her standing there. "I didn't know if you'd even still be here, but I heard the rumors about the village." Her lips curved with a smile and he felt his stomach turn over; the way her smile shined, it was familiar. It was her's... It was Kagome's. The young woman's eyes were still yet that beautiful blue they'd always been and her face... It was Kagome. He could not believe it. Though she stood there in front of him, he still yet didn't dare to believe it.

"I... I don't..." Inuyasha shook his silver head, taking a single step closer to her, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms, to see if this woman would feel the same as Kagome always had. "I don't understand." He finally said simply, speaking the truth, his golden eyes never once straying from her sapphire ones. Another smile curved on her lips and she closed the gap between them, standing so close now that all he had to do was reach out and he could have touched her. "Are you... Are you Kagome?"

Head tilted to the side, the young woman  surveyed the hanyou before her; he was as she always saw him in her dreams, young and strong, with long silver hair she'd always longed to touch.  She had begun to have dreams of him since she was a child, though she had never understood them. And not just him- she dreamed of a life that wasn't hers, of raising children, of fighting battles, and of falling in love. It wasn't until the month before when she'd met a fox youkai while traveling and seeing him had awakened something in her. And that was when she began to remember the life she'd lived before this one. All her life, all nineteen years of it, she'd felt like she was missing a piece of her. No matter how much she ate, she had never felt full. No matter how much joy was in her life, she was never happy. There always seemed to be something missing, a piece of her heart lost to her. She had always wondered if the dreams had something to do with it, but until she had met Shippo, she never would have been able to put it together on her own.

But then... Shippo had saw her that day and known her instantly and with their meeting came back hundreds of memories. It was like reliving a life she'd left behind, seeing the memories Kagome had, and when she remembered everything she almost felt whole again. But there was still yet a piece missing... And it was finally there in front of her. "I told you we'd meet again." She said, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks as Inuyasha's features softened, his golden eyes filling up. "I'm not Kagome, not really, but her soul is mine and mine is hers. She loved you so much..." She trailed off, shaking her head, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I just had to meet you, too."

Inuyasha listened silently to her words, learning her story as she spoke. That she'd been born and from that moment, people around her said she was different. That she was overflowing with a spiritual power that'd not been seen in anyone but the famed miko Kagome, a woman who had come from the future, a woman who had been a reincarnation of the other famous miko Kikyo. This soul within her, it had been reborn once already, and she had a feeling it would be reborn for as long as Inuyasha lived. He listened as she told him of her empty feelings, of how something always seemed like it was missing. He listened as she spoke of the dreams, of the meeting with Shippo, and of course the memories she was flooded with.

And when she had finished, Inuyasha felt something inside of him, warm and comforting as it flooded his whole body. "What's your name?" He finally asked, the only question that seemed to make sense in this moment.

It was then that she tilted her head, dark hair a waterfall over her shoulder, blue eyes shining in the morning sunlight. "Hisano." She replied, watching as something took root in his eyes. "My mother said when I was born, it was like I was already part of a story, so she named me Hisano. I guess she wasn't wrong." A laugh escaped her and Inuyasha felt his heart skip a beat, the sound of her laugh one he'd been longing to hear for the last twenty years. She must have noticed how it affected him, for she reached out a hand to touch his, the touch like an electric shock, causing both of them to jump.

"Come with me..." Inuyasha gestured for her to follow him, leading her towards the sacred tree, where they had once first met. There they might begin to develop what they once had, perhaps there they might fight. It would not matter, he realized, for even after such a short period of time, Inuyasha knew this was the woman he loved. It may not have been her body, it may not have been her voice.  But Kagome's soul had found its way to him once again, as she had promised she would.

Just as he thought, they truly were caught up in the tangled thread of fate, a red string that connected their souls, always bringing them back together. One way or another, they always found each other, even death could not separate them. Fate was kind, he realized, rather than cruel. Over and over again they would reunite, until his own dying day. And only then might their string be cut. Only then might their union break.

But until then, he would hold onto what he had... And that was her.