#but my god do people loathe that woman. still. all these years later

[batsplat]

The reigning World Champion got the drive out of the final corner, but not enough to make the difference over the line. So Stoner did the smart thing, attaching himself to Rossi's tailpipe, never more than a breath behind the Italian, turning The Doctor's usual tactics against the old master. Flattered by such attention, Rossi returned the compliment, looking positively Stoneresque in his obliviousness to what was happening behind him. There could have been one Ducati behind him, or a thousand, Valentino Rossi seemed to be riding in blissful, and willful, ignorance of what was going on to the rear.

(x) kinda cute if u think about it. both of them taking on the role of the other in their most infamous duel. casey turning valentino's tactics 'against the old master'. valentino 'returning the compliment' by acting like casey. the line between the pair of them blurring in the heat of battle. 'flattered by such attention'...

there's an ask I am attempting to answer rn where I'm slapping my hands not to start using agassi/sampras quotes to talk about the rossi/stoner rivalry. so I'm just gonna do it here instead. this sampras quote is not not relevant imo:

and to ME this agassi quote also works as a description of laguna 2008:

(see here for more about the agassi/sampras rivalry)

the challenges of a rivalry forcing both sides not just to adapt but also to imitate each other... the tension causing this blurring of the line between the two of them, despite how defined this rivalry is by their differences... no hope of justice, and everyone will blame the victim...

also. not to be too bold here. but this bit is also sort of valentino/casey, wherein they both have a very different understanding of what constitutes 'best' and 'worst':

casey IN SOME WAYS low key valentino's favourite rival solely during the years where they were actually competing for titles, because he's super challenging and tricky to beat and forces valentino to get creative but isn't emotionally messy and is instead kinda fun to play with. valentino switches to casey's tyre in 2008 - he has to learn to do what casey has already accomplished and succeed on the bridgestones, because that's the only way to compete against casey. valentino is a better rider in 2008 for having had to figure out the casey stoner puzzle!! admittedly he'd prefer to have done all that in a season where he spent a LITTLE more time actually racing w2w with his competitors in a way that would've played more to his strengths as a rider, but that's mostly not casey's fault... and crucially they have their One Defining Battle where valentino forcibly wrenches casey and their rivalry from casey's comfort zone to valentino's. and it's not just one race, right - the whole point of that battle is that implicitly it's valentino threatening casey by suggesting he will always do this when given half a chance. valentino learns from casey and adjusts his approach and then takes control of the rivalry by dragging casey down into the dirt with him

and then you've got casey, who very much did not love this rivalry. who is always talking about how much he learned from valentino, how he learned about having to stand up for himself on the track, with the media, had to learn to treat some riders with less respect, to suck up to the press, to race more aggressively, to sell himself better - and crucially NONE of these things he would want to be doing in an ideal world!! he doesn't want to have to ride aggressively and he CERTAINLY doesn't want to be a pr merchant. but he gets pretty good at all of these things... because he has to. because that's the sort of challenge valentino poses for him. and. again. not to get too bold here. but what's also interesting is how... there is just this sense that casey's development doesn't just help him in fighting valentino: the rivalry makes him an all-round better competitor. casey doesn't just talk about having to race valentino differently due to valentino's aggression - instead it's "after two years of racing people who don't worry about you", he's had to change. which, yes, is obviously mostly indirectly slagging off valentino, but in that same answer he's also saying EUROPEANS simply do not understand what he's talking about - this IS a grudge that extends beyond valentino, even if it's always focused around him. (obviously europeans are not inherently more aggressive riders than anglos but... let's not even touch that.) laguna is a turning point of his CAREER, not just of that particular rivalry. it made him realise he had to race only for himself, which is an ethos he carried with him even when they weren't direct rivals anymore. likewise, casey was already constantly feeling misrepresented by the media long long before valentino began working his dark magic. casey came to realise that refusing to engage with the media simply wasn't going to work for him... it's a process valentino jumpstarted, but its effects on casey's approach went beyond the immediate scope of that rivalry, eventually transforming casey into a far more effective communicator for it. casey learned valentino's tricks because that's what it takes to succeed in the sport - both in the literal sense of succeeding on-track as well as the more abstract sense of getting people on your side, selling your story to people. winning them over. even to casey, valentino remains the ultimate point of reference

and these are the parts of the sport casey wishes didn't exist, and they're all so closely connected to valentino. and THAT is where the tension comes from, because casey hates valentino in one breath and learns from him the other and always has to reckon with how much he is willing to cross his own lines to succeed. and it helped him be a better rider! but not in ways he actually liked. this grim tone in which he talks again and again about having had to learn to respond to what an arsehole valentino was... he did not want this. he did not want to have to learn these things. and yet casey ended up becoming a little more like valentino than he had been when their rivalry began. and so his discomfort with valentino becomes his discomfort with the sport becomes his discomfort with himself. and thus even for all the obvious contrast between the pair of them, the line that separates them would occasionally still be blurred

[akystaracer22]

Free the Bird from its Gilded Cage

Synopsis: Lucifer would tell anyone who asked his greatest regret was letting humanity eat the apple. Better than admitting what he really regretted.

Notes

Golly gee good thing affairs didn’t exist back then huh!

In which Lucifer’s tism hurts his best friend, the fic.

I think I can tag this as Edenpoly considering the conversation between Lucifer and Lilith.

I give my greatest thanks to my good friend Hat who uttered the phrase “I raise a glass to the friend you could have been and drink to the monster you became” (Or something of the sort) which has not left my brain 2 years later.

No shade on other people’s depictions of the ancient archangels. I love good archangels as much as you guys but… this is very much bashing.

I’m so sorry Michael. And Azrael, and every single angel who’s characters I butcher in this AU. It’s not you guys I swear.

God on the other hand fuck you I’m not sorry.

I have been told by many people irl that I have religious trauma. I didn’t think I did but fuck it we ball.

I am so sorry this came out late but I had two assignments and I'm moving houses, I'll try not to have a repeat.

Word count: 1957

Fic under cut!

Lucifer felt Lilith before he saw her, the first woman’s aura screaming frustration and hurt louder than the tears in her eyes.

She was sitting under an aspen tree with her legs tucked to her chest.

Lucifer didn’t need to guess why she was upset; it could really only be one thing these days.

“Adam did something again, didn’t he.”

Lilith huffed and lifted her head to meet Lucifer’s gaze, “We fought, again. He still doesn’t get it.”

Lucifer sighed and sat down next to the first woman, not for the first time the little voice in his head bemoaned Adams chronic inability to listen to anyone other than God. It was really starting to cause problems in Eden.

“He’ll regret it.”

“He always does, but he still does it.”

Lucifer nodded, “He needs to learn that God isn’t right about everything,” His siblings would murder him if they knew he was spreading this kind of blasphemy, “But I do agree, it’s a little irritating.”

“It is!” Lucifer jerked as Lilith stood up abruptly and began to pace, “He’s great most of the time don’t get me wrong, but he’s just increasingly growing more and more insufferable! It’s like every time he gets better he just goes straight back to being worse!”

“Truly the trials and tribulations of the first humans.”

“I just wish he would listen to me! Not some stuck up self-important know it all who thinks I’m worthless.”

Lucifer wisely held back the instinctive defence of the Creator, “Especially when you are so much more than that.”

Lilith seemed to finally run out of steam, falling back into Lucifer’s arms and holding him tightly, “I hate this… I hate him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t… I hate the man God wants him to be.”

“I hate that man too,” Lucifer admitted, “I hate how he hurts everyone.”

Because it wasn’t just Lilith that was left hurting. Lucifer hated how he was losing track of the near silent breakdowns of Adam’s.

God created humanity different from the grand design, and every day Lucifer loathed that fact more and more.

“He’s going to win, that man.”

“Neither of us will let him.”

“He’ll let himself,” Lilith hissed right by his ear, the sound sending a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, by the choirs that felt good “Adams an idiot.”

“Yep!” Call Lucifer blasphemous, but he was so tempted to-

Lilith opened her mouth to say something, and Lucifer listened to the little voice in his head once again.

He caught her mouth with his own swiftly before pulling back, face flushing as he realised what he just did.

That was something only Adam and Lilith was supposed to do with each other.

Lilith blinked, taking time to process before giving her response, “Do that again.”

Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice.

The bark of the aspen tree was lit up by Lucifer’s wings as he pressed his lips to Lilith’s again.

And again.

And again.

Lucifer had never felt so good. He could see why Lilith and Adam like doing this. This felt so good.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

It was hours until Lucifer disentangled himself from Lilith, still not having quite recovered from the experience. Sadly, he could feel the mental tug attached to his halo signifying his siblings wanting an audience with him. The last thing he wanted was to have them come down and see him with Lilith.

The moment he returned to heaven however, he had the distinct feeling that he might have messed up regardless.

Michael was pacing and muttering angrily under his breath, sharp sounds grating Lucifer’s awareness. When the archangel saw Lucifer, his wings physically bristled as he lunged forward and grabbed the Morningstar by the robe.

“You are so very fortunate that God was already growing tired of Lilith’s rebellion!”

“What?”

“Michael,” Lucifer turned to see Azrael landing nearby, “I highly doubt Lucifer knows what he has done, as impulsive as he is.”

“What? What happened,” Lucifer demanded, mantling his wings to make himself look larger as he stared down the other archangels.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what!”

“God decided to give the first man a new wife,” Michaels words cut through Lucifer’s anger and left only shock, “Made from his rib.”

“… what?”

“Yes, I had to tear it out myself,” Michael huffed, Lucifer noticed the dried red still dusting the angels gloves, “Adam tried to flee.”

“…”

“What Michael means,” Azreal shot the other a look, “Is that Adam didn’t take the information well, and saw it fit to attempt avoiding the situation entirely.”

“He was awake?!” Lucifer screeched “By the choir what is wrong with you two?!”

“It was the Creator’s wishes, none of us knew it would bring pain,” Azrael sighed, “However, it would encourage not repeating the situation…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Michael scoffed, “The Creator ensured Adam wouldn’t remember.”

“It would taint him.”

“It would motivate him.”

“What?”

“Our Creator has decided to take a more… hands on approach in ensuring the situation does not repeat itself,” Azrael looked uncomfortable, “Xe employed the use of divine power to keep Adam and Eve from straying from the grand design.”

Lucifer took a step back.

Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer couldn’t hear over the roar of nothing in his ears.

No.

Nononononono.

Lucifer ran.

He broke into a sprint before diving back down to Earth, landing on the soft grass of Eden he looked around desperately.

“Adam!”

“Yes?”

Lucifer turned around as Adam’s figure came into view from behind a tree, “Adam-”

His eyes were gold.

Lucifer stumbled back as he took in the first man’s appearance, Adam’s eyes were no longer the colour of earth. The familiar dark brown orbs that bore the gold of honey and of leaves in the sun were gone. In their place was the brilliant gold of divinity, of heaven, the same gold of the-

The chain attached to his wrist.

Lucifer lunged forward and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him forward and running a hand along the softly glowing cuff on Adams wrist.

It was definitely the Creator’s doing.

“Adam what have they done to you.”

“Ah, apologies, but have we met before?”

Lucifer’s golden ichor froze as he looked back up to meet that accursed golden gaze, “What?”

“It is just that… you seem familiar with me, but I do not recall ever having met you. I apologize.”

Lucifer stepped back from the first man, “What.”

“Were you present for my creation? That day was such a blur I hardly recall all those present.”

“Adam- Adam look at me,” Lucifer grabbed Adam by the shoulder, staring desperately into those too gold, too inhuman, too holy eyes “Adam. You are my best friend. You remember me don’t you?”

Adam’s eyes flickered for a moment, that familiar beautiful earth brown peeking through for a moment before being swamped by heavenly gold.

“You are an angel; how could I ever be friends with someone of a higher status such as you?”

Lucifer wanted to cry.

The Creator truly was cruel.

“Are you alright, sir?”

Lucifer couldn’t do this.

Lucifer shoved Adam away and ran like a coward, stumbling through the bushes and past trees as he ran away from the puppet wearing his best friends face.

He didn’t even talk like Adam.

The Creator just stripped his best friend of everything that made him… him.

Lucifer collapsed under a willow tree as he sobbed into his arms.

He didn’t move for a long time after that.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Lilith found him in the dim of night, her eyes sharp and he teeth bared in a rueful grimace even as she took him into his arms.

“We’re not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”

A hot flame of righteous anger sparked in Lucifer’s heart as he held onto Lilith. She was right, this crossed a line.

Lucifer wanted to rush in, to steal Adam away and find a way to break that chain.

Lilith told him to wait, to watch and observe as she would.

“Right now, heaven does not know about our rebellion, if we move too quickly we will both be destroyed.”

She was right, of course she was. Lucifer hated it though.

They had to watch Adam go through the motions of what his life used to be. The way he would no longer wander the garden without reason.

He wouldn’t play with the animals anymore or sit and relax under the sun.

Lucifer almost broke the trunk of a tree when he saw Adam tear out a plant Gabriel considered ‘too imperfect for the garden’ even though Lucifer knew that it was Adams favourite flower.

That flame of anger grew every time that damned shackle glowed and chained Adams will.

It took a little time to figure out, but if there was one thing Lucifer was sure would free Adam and Eve, it was the apples of knowledge.

They had to.

Lucifer and Lilith also watched Eve through everything. She seemed meek through the control of the Creator, but in the few moments the attention of heaven faded and the gold in her eyes let a little bit of reddish brown through, they got to know her.

She was gentle and sweet to the animals but there was a steel in her spine.

She was vibrant and wild as she chased the cheetah’s around the garden or buried her head in a grizzly bears side.

Lucifer grew to love her in a way. As little of her as he could see. But she was the one the Creator paid less attention to, and why would xe? She is supposed to be subservient to Adam.

Lucifer shifted into the form of a snake and curled through the branches of the tree of knowledge as she came into view.

Showtime.

“Eve my dear, may I borrow your attention for but a moment?” Lucifer sing-songed, drawing the girls eye as she stopped at the base of the tree.

“What is it you require of me, snake?” Eve asked, Lucifer watched intently as the telltale hint of red brown filtered into her gaze, this was the shot he needed.

“The fruit of this tree, could you tell me how it tastes to you?”

The woman flinched back as if struck, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at her response.

“I couldn’t, God said-”

“And have you not wondered why xe demands such things of you? Have you not questioned why xe forbade this?” Lucifer hissed, snapping off an apple and letting it fall to the ground at Eve’s feet, “I know, and that is why I ask this of you.”

Eve’s will fought with Heaven for a moment as she picked up the apple, but she was not gone yet, “God said that if I ate the fruit, I would die.”

“And the Creator lies to you,” blasphemy dripped off of Lucifers tongue as he all but snarled at Eve, the white-hot flame of fury envenoming his words, “To eat the apple is not to die, but to be freed. To have your eyes opened to the truth around you.”

Eve held the apple in her hands, the reddish brown in her eyes traitorously present.

“How do you know I won’t die?”

“Because my dear, I have had my eyes opened long ago. To open them is a freedom the Creator keeps from you on purpose,” Lucifer hissed, “You will not die, of that I can promise.”

Eve bit into the apple, and the chains snapped under the weight of knowledge granted.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it, eleven years later. || myg

no. 2 of 3: she called me a fucking liar

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 4.6k

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking, smoking

inspo song: worldstar money by joji

JULY 9TH, 2023, 10:48PM

The woman next to Yoongi loops her arm around his, holding him close. A knife puncturing my stomach only twists further. Further and further. 

“Who’s this?” She asks genuinely, kindly. Oh, I loathe her. I hate myself for it but I hate her more. The feelings I’m having are childish and jealous, completely unreasonable. But she’s so perfect. Her body fits into his like they were made for each other. I don’t recognize myself right now. It feels like high school with the way I’m obsessing over her every move. 

All I want to do right now is run into the club and down more drinks than I can fathom. Self destructive is the right word. I was never one for spite, but right now I wish I had a man on my own arm. 

“This is…Kanako.” He speaks, gulping. 

Her eyes widen and she breaks apart from him, taking my hands. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t even recognize you! I’m Aimee, remember? I was a trainee at Bighit for a little while.” 

The memories flood my brain as I recount who exactly she was. I do remember her. After the news broke out, she was the one who told me I could still take back what I said about Haneul. She was on his side. 

This is who he’s with? I feel a burning in my stomach, a validating one. I have a reason to dislike her. It gives me reason to hate her. And God, do I hate her right now. 

I look at Yoongi as Aimee holds my hands in hers, utter incredulity painting my face like a mural. I’m not sure if he remembers, but I do. Those words all those years ago were repeated over and over again so I could hate myself even more. She was amongst the people that made me afraid to go outside ever again. 

Haneul doesn’t have that power over me anymore, and neither does she. At least for being on his side. But I’m definitely giving her power by wanting to rip her away from Yoongi. This is getting embarrassing. 

“Yes. I do. You were friends with Haneul, weren’t you?” I smile with bitterness. I’m old enough to make statements now. I’m old enough to create boundaries. I don’t have to lie about liking someone. Fuck being the bigger person. I’ve been big, I’ve been small. I’ve done it all. 

Her beaming smile fades and she lets go of me, “N-No. Well, yes. But I know better now, I’m so sorry for what I said. I haven’t spoken to him in over a decade.” She says. Yeah, right.

Yoongi only stands with his hands in his pockets, not saying a word. I don’t want to be talking to Aimee, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be talking to him either. I don’t know if I have the strength to, considering how it went with Jungkook. There’s too many thoughts circling my mind at this very moment, all of them being about Yoongi. I don’t even know if I would consider him an ex, someone I knew, the one that got away. Because that would be me, I got away. 

I know I should’ve moved on long ago. I know I did in certain ways. But still after all these years I never understood why I could never give myself to someone else.The feelings for Yoongi had never dissipated, I just forgot what it’s like for him to be standing in front of me. Looking like that. 

This hurts so fucking bad. 

“Hey, Koko.” I hear Keiko say from behind Yoongi. She holds her bag as well as mine. Her body is asking if I’m ready to go. She knows. “It’s alright Aimee. Have a good night.” I say and nod to Yoongi who makes strong eye-contact with me. 

I turn to Namjoon, “How long are you going to be in New York for?” 

“Just two more days.” He says, “We can meet up again if you’d like.”

I walk to Keiko, grabbing my bag. “I’ll call you.” I tell him. He nods slowly and I wave a quick good-bye before me and Keiko head off into the Uber she called over. 

As I walk away I’m fighting the urge to look back. I didn’t then, but I want to now. A part of me wants to tell Yoongi that I want to see him again. But the other part wants me to ignore all those precious memories we have together and lock them in a box, throwing away the key. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I grip my purse tighter, biting my lip. 

Before we get into the Uber, I reluctantly choose to look back. I hold the car door with one hand, turning to Yoongi. He was already looking at me. Those almond eyes. I keep that short moment in my back-pocket, saving it for tonight. 

He looked back, and so did I. 

JULY 9TH, 2023, 12:34AM

Me and Keiko sit on my bed, face masks on and a tub of ice cream between us with one spoon staked in the frozen dessert. It’s rocky-road, my favorite but her least favorite. She knew how much I needed it though, so she succumbed to the chunky-goodness. 

“So how was it?”

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know what I’m talking about.”

I take a deep breath, exhaling for a moment. “Awful. Jungkook was so upset, and I mean for the right reasons. But it just took me by surprise. He was so…sure with himself. Namjoon is sort of the same. Level-headed. But Yoongi…”

“He has long hair now.”

I shove her playfully, “Shut up!”

She takes the spoon, dipping it into ice cream before pulling it to her mouth. “Sorry. You were saying?”

I lean my hands back, “I felt like it was the first time all over again.”

“Like no time had passed?”

I pull a face, “It’s so stupid.” 

She raises her eyebrows, giving her head a small tilt. “Just a little.” 

I scoff, “Kay, sorry if I thought this was a safe space.” 

“It is! It is. It's just funny to hear that is all. But I get it, trust me. Although it’s been eleven years.”

“Don’t rub it in! I know. But besides that, seeing him was so unreal. Unlike the others, he just seemed…the same. I don’t know. Should I see Namjoon tomorrow?” I ask, grabbing the spoon from her hand to have a bite. 

“Well, what I’m hearing is you asking if you should see Yoongi tomorrow.” She purses her lips. 

I nod sheepishly. “Maybe I am.”

“Kanako, can I be serious with you? For just a moment.” She stops and places her hands on my shoulders. I hold the spoon in my hand nervously, looking at her serious expression. “Sure.” I’m not. Keiko’s brutal honesty is never something to be ignored. 

“As much as I love to encourage your bad decisions, I have to draw a line. Because I love you, and because I think you know this too…don’t try to stir things back up with him.”

I pout, “That wasn’t exactly my intention-”

“I know. But at your core, you’re a romantic. A lifelong monogamist, as much as you don’t like to admit it. You haven’t been in a real relationship in eleven years, and that makes me worry for you. And your vagina.” 

“You know I’ve been trying to open up more!”

“Yes babe, but after eleven years? You couldn’t have been waiting for him, were you?”

She keeps emphasizing eleven years which doesn’t make me feel good. I know it’s sort of something that’s been left unsaid, my lack of relationships. But I’ve played it off as not needing a man, being too focused on my work. I’m just a workaholic, it’s fine. Even though that isn’t necessarily true. I love my free time. I love having free time. I knew one day I’d gain the strength to start something up with someone else, I was just waiting. Yeah, waiting. 

“No! I mean not really. I just haven’t…felt that spark with anyone else.”

“Spark. Right.” She squints suspiciously. 

“It’s true!” I gasp. It isn’t. 

I settle down and play with the hem of my sweater, “Don’t act like I haven’t moved on.”

She cooes, “Oh, Koko. I know you have. I just think seeing him was hard for you. It brought up stuff, didn’t it?”

That’s definitely a word for it. Stuff. If stuff means feelings, yes. Feelings I can’t quite figure out. It’s not like I want to seduce him out of his relationship, but a part of me is so hungry to know him again. To know what he’s been up to, if he still likes his coffee the same, if his love for me hasn’t faltered. It hurts me so much to think that mine hasn’t. Haneul was never my first love, Yoongi was. What I felt for Yoongi was deeper, something I didn’t and couldn’t understand at eighteen.

What I had with Hanuel was a need to be seen, validated. There wasn’t any depth besides the trauma I got out of it. That’s a black hole I’ve gotten out of. With stories to tell and scars to hide, but It’s gone. Thank God. 

“Yeah…it did.”

She pulls me in for an embrace, kissing my forehead. “Do what you want, I love you. He’s just…obviously with someone new. I don’t want you to get hurt. But you should see Namjoon. And maybe try to fix things with Jungkook. That’ll make you feel better.”

I nod into her shirt, “Yeah, it will.”

She pulls herself back from the embrace, seemingly confused. “It kind of surprises me that your feelings are so strong for him…and yet you guys never had sex.”

“Trust me, that took me months to get over.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 6:00PM

I move the hair in front of my face and adjust my soft pink top before I enter the rather expensive restaurant Namjoon had invited me to. This is definitely not a place we would’ve come to back then. Even I have never been here before. 

There’s a few moments before I’m met with a hostess, “Kanako?” She asks and I nod, gripping the handle of my purse tighter. My hands are growing clammier, embarrassingly enough. Namjoon asked if he could invite some of the other members that were here as well, and I accepted warily. I knew I’d easily get overwhelmed by seeing most of them again, but I didn’t know when I’d have another chance to. Seeing as they’re all busy and for the first time in eleven years I’m taking a leap of faith. 

I don’t know when I’d have this courage again. Especially if it means Yoongi might be there. 

She leads me to a seated area covered by a black curtain. Her hand delicately brushes it open for me, revealing the four familiar men. For some reason I expected something more dramatic, more tragic. I have pessimism on the brain, but can you blame me? It’s my easiest coping mechanism. My most self-destructive one. A common theme lately. 

She gives me leeway to enter and I respond to her with a quick thanks before entering the small room. The men all stand quickly but seem to be caught, saying nothing. Their eyes dart to each other for a quick minute before Jimin smiles, “You look great.” Unexpected, but I’ll take it.

They all look great too, all so mature and aged. I could take notes. But I think they’d be pricey notes.

It feels like I’m standing in front of strangers in a sense, eleven years taking off memories from me little by little. But I still remember a lot. Even with Jimin’s cadence in his voice, it’s so different. It’s softer. More gentle, like I’m a new friend. New friend. 

“Please, sit.” Namjoon insists and I do so, sitting next to him which seems like the safest bet. I place my purse down beside me and shuffle in my seat, “Thanks for…inviting me. It’s great seeing you all again.” I say, trying so hard not to cringe with my words. Just like last night, it feels like anything I say doesn’t amount to how big this situation is. 

We used to be all so close. I knew them. They called me their sister at some point. 

“You too. Sorry Taehyung couldn’t make it. He’s busy and all that.” Namjoon chuckles, planting his elbows on the table. Jungkook sits right in front of me, not speaking a word. His eyes stay looking down at the table, sometimes to Jimin. 

I don’t know whether to look at them or not, it all feels like the wrong move. What if they don’t like who I am now? The way I dress, speak, move. I want them to recognize me. I’m almost thirty, why do I care so much about what they think of me?

“We went ahead and ordered meat and other side stuff. You like fish cakes right? And beer? If not, I could get you something else.” Namjoon asks. 

“N-No, that’s all fine. Thank you…”

More silence. 

“I got spicy cucumber salad for you. I know how much you liked it then.” Jungkook says between the echoing quiet. Then. 

“Oh yeah, I still do. And I still like-”

“Pickled radish.” Yoongi whispers, fiddling with his hands. They remember. He remembers. 

I respond with a soft laugh, “Right.” 

He smiles too, looking up at me. One day I’ll stop feeling whatever this is I feel for Min Yoongi, but as long as he stays just like this, I don’t think that will happen any time soon. There’s a delicate fluttering in my stomach as we keep eye contact with each other, like it’s all that time ago. I would call myself delusional, crazy, everything that means that I’m looking too much into it. But if I could print this moment on paper, you’d believe me.

“So you guys are on a hiatus? How has that been?” I question genuinely. Jimin totters in his seat, making a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. It reminds me of Hoseok. I wish they were all here, but I’m glad I at least have this. 

“Taking a break has been great for most of us, but I’m still working on music and whatnot. So is Jungkook, but we definitely have more free time than we did a year ago. We wouldn’t have been able to go on a dinner like this if it were, say, 2021.” He says honestly. The boys nod in agreement. 

“Really?” I raise my brows in shock.

“Yeah, we were robots for like, six years straight. Non-stop working. What about you?” Jimin tilts his head.

“Yeah, Kanako. We’re- I am- very curious about what you’ve been doing. You went to college when you left, didn’t you?” Namjoon says it as if it isn’t a sore topic. It is for me, and with the way Yoongi shut down privately it seems like it was the same for them too. 

I play with the glass of water in front of me, “Yeah I did. I graduated with a degree in communications, so I work with my friend Keiko at the New York Times as an editor. She was doing an internship there and…managed to get us both in, I guess. I’m pretty lucky.” I admit.

Jimin’s mouth is agape, “Kanako, that's seriously impressive.”

I scoff, “Oh shush, nothing like being a global star. Mr. Nominated For A Grammy.” 

Namjoon shakes his head playfully, “There’s the Kanako I remember.” 

I smile to myself as I hear Namjoon’s comment, “But thanks Jimin.” I say.

Before he can reply a waiter comes in with multiple servings of all kinds of food. He places the raw meat besides the grill, following with the various side dishes all neatly surrounding the table. It’s so much food, something we definitely never did back then. 

Once everything is settled, Yoongi grabs the tongs, pointing them at me. 

“Make sure to eat a lot. It’s on us.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 7:47PM

We’ve grown into a more comfortable banter as we all eat. Talking about celebrities they’ve met, encounters with fans in bathrooms, and something Namjoon wants to say to me. 

He chews on the kimchi that sits in his mouth, covering it with his hand. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal, but now that you’re here I just wanted to tell you because it sort of is a big thing.”

“Go ahead Joon.” I assure him. 

He swallows, “Well- uh. I’m bisexual. And I’m dating a guy. He’s cool.”

I widen my eyes. Definitely didn’t see that coming. I mean, kind of. He’s always been a very open-minded person, but I never heard him talk about any sort of crush. Besides that one time in a club, but I never assumed he was straight. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m happy for him though. I know it must be hard for them to maintain relationships during all this chaos, but the dust has settled. And he seems happy, which is most important. 

“Oh sweet.” I reply nonchalantly, hoping to not scare him away. 

“That’s it? Sweet?” He chuckles, turning over the cooking bulgogi. 

“Scratch that, I’m glad you found someone. That makes me happy you could do that in the midst of, you know everything that’s been going on for you. Where’d you meet?” I reply. 

He sighs, “Mutual friends. It was hard to connect with other guys during the, you know, spotlight. I’m still not out obviously, but he’s really okay with it. We go to art galleries and dinners and such. It’s pretty serious.”

I grin as I sip my beer, “Is he as smart as you?”

“He tries to keep up.” Namjoon replies with a smirk. 

Jimin perks his head up, “What about you Kanako? Anyone in your life?”

I gulp. It takes everything in me to not look at Yoongi. I hope the small beat after he asked the question isn’t obvious. I look down to my fish cake, “Not really.”

“Has there ever been? It’s been eleven years, you know.” He says. Ugh.

“You sound just like Keiko.” I mumble.

Namjoon tilts his head, “Are you and Keiko…”

I shake my head quickly, “No. Nope.” I respond to him, turning to Jimin. “Uh- some guys here and there but nothing ever serious. I’m pretty focused on my work. What about you, Jiminie?” I attempt to curb the conversation from myself. Trying to not make it obvious I’m hiding a deep, dirty secret that’s sitting across from me. 

There’s an abrupt laughter that bounces off the table. I look around, confused. “What am I missing?” I say. 

Jungkook laughs, “Jimin is the opposite of a monogamist.”

Jimin’s face washes over with an obvious scarlet, “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

I giggle and lean back in my seat, “Ahhh, I see.” 

That was an unsurprising answer from him. And I’m sure with the fame there’s even more options for a guy like him. “Is it limited to just women?” I ask. 

Jimin gasps, “Why does everyone ask that!”

Namjoon laughs hard, holding his stomach in the process. “Kanako is asking the real questions.” He chokes out whilst wiping tears from his eyes. 

“But to answer your question, definitely not.” Jimin gives a cheeky look to me as he responds. It’s clear he’s growing more buzzed by the minute. I assume that night at the club sparked something in him. It’s fun, for now. 

This news is all so raw to me but it’s so fluid. The aging only made the conversations better, more comfortable. There’s less hesitation and more openness. There’s still a silence in Yoongi’s corner, reminding me of how he was when I first met him. Shy. But the topic of conversation I know is something he doesn’t want to contribute to. Not after the awkward encounter I had with his supposed beau. His young, annoying beau. 

“And you, Jungkook?” I ask. 

Jimin pats the young boy on the arm, “Still afraid of women. But I think he was just having a hard time moving on from-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook is quick to quiet the tipsy man down. There is an obvious glow to Jimin’s cheeks as time passes, and I don’t remember how many glasses of beer he’s had if that tells you anything. His mouth is like a loose cannon. Things don’t feel great. The table turns quiet again. Something else I’m missing. Jimin shrugs. 

“Let’s just say Yoongi isn’t the only one still hung up on you.” He mutters under his breath, taking a big gulp of his beer. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Jimin, really?” Namjoon looks at him in disbelief. Jungkook is also shocked, holding a hand up as if he’s stopped in his tracks. “I can’t believe you said that.” The young boy whispers. 

Jimin tries to reach for Jungkook, slurring a small ‘I’msorry’ before Jungkook slides out of his seat to walk out of the room. Jimin follows the young boy in hopes to apologize. All I feel is second-hand embarrassment, confusion, and heaps of awkwardness. Yoongi sets down his chopsticks in a disappointed manner, exhaling loudly. 

He looks at me for the second time today, “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s grown to be a messy drunk.” He says. 

I nod and hang my head politely, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. But it might be too late for that, because before I can think I’m jolting my head back up in question.

“What did he mean, not the only one?” I ask, looking at the two men. 

Namjoon bites his lip, “Not sure if that’s our place to say.”

But what does it mean? Is Yoongi still hung up on me? Is Jungkook? I didn’t think he ever felt that way towards me, he called me his sister for god's sake. Was it a cover-up? Did feelings develop over time? How did I not know? How did I not expect this? This gives everything a new meaning that I do not want. 

I don’t want any of this. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper as I pick at my rice.

“It’s to be expected.” Yoongi responds, seriously. 

His tone is indistinct which causes me to be a bit bewildered, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs apathetically, “Everything was…never concluded properly. You left things sort of a mess after you left.” 

I scoff and cross my arms, blatantly offended. “A mess?”

Namjoon attempts to break up the rising tension, “Guys let’s not-”

But Yoongi has intentions. Everything is coming to the surface, I know it. I hear the words flow from Yoongi’s mouth like he’s rehearsed them. Like he’s always known what he was going to say, eleven years later.

“We loved you, and you left. You can’t expect us to not have feelings about it.”

We loved you. The same knife digs into me as I hear him. 

“I’m not expecting anything. It’s just been-”

“Eleven years? Yeah, we know.” He laughs sarcastically. He always knows what I’m going to say next. In this moment I wish he knew nothing about me. 

There’s a bubbling frustration within me that grows to its peak, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved you all too, okay?” My words begin to adhere to him, unbeknownst to me. It’s coming out. “I spent days and nights thinking about you. I wanted to come back, I wanted to call. But it would make- it would’ve made moving on so much harder.”

“Why did you want to?”

“Want to what?”

Namjoon places a hand on my shoulder to cool me down but I’m an unstoppable forest fire, trees and wildlife burning down in front of their eyes. They’ve watched me crumble so many times it’s almost unbelievable it’s happening all over again. Some things really don’t ever change. 

“Move on, Kanako? Why!” Yoongi shouts. 

I sit up from my seat, planting my hands on the table angrily, “Because I loved you! I had just started to and I knew I had to stop if I was ever going to heal! Don’t you get that? I was in an abusive relationship at eighteen years old, I didn’t even know half of the things that happened to me really did happen! I coped the best way I could, so fuck you for blaming eighteen year old me!” I breathe heavily after I finish. The bowl of rice has toppled over all over my feet but I’m too angry to notice. This is what I needed to say after all these years. This is my honest truth. I’ve freed myself of the guilt I’ve held for all these years. 

Yoongi stays quiet, his gaze on mine as I stay above him. Namjoon looks at me too, aghast. I feel relieved but so big at the same time. Like a monster. 

“Kanako…” Yoongi whispers. “I know, I-I’m sorry. That was…” His voice trails off. 

I feel tears trickling down my face and wipe them quickly, slumping back down on the seat. Instead of running away, I stay. This time I will stay. 

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:00PM

Yoongi ended up paying for dinner, even with how much of a slight disaster it turned out to be. We ended up continuing talking, rather casually, after our argument. It was the best I could do without leaving again. I wanted to stay there and fix things. But it was better to ignore it. 

Jungkook and Jimin stand outside, clearly done with a deep talk. Jungkook is smoking once again. I feel like I should say something about it, maybe even a joke. But I’m not sure if that’s my place anymore. Was it ever?

“Hey guys. Kanako. Sorry about that.” Jimin apologizes weakly. It’s obvious he’s sobered up a bit from the last time I saw him, but even under the street lights I can see he has a long way to go. 

“Don’t worry about it.” I promise him. Jungkook throws down his cigarette like he’s done it a million times before. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks over to me, eyeing the sky. His familiar unwillingness for eye-contact is more obvious than ever. 

“Hi Jungkook.” I say as he approaches me. 

He looks over to the boys behind me, hesitant to speak. “I understand now. I can’t imagine at that age having to go through what you did.” He confesses. He pulls me in for a random but pleasant hug. His body is much more solid than I remember, not as easy to hold, but his scent has stayed the same. How is that even possible? 

I accept the embrace and wrap my arms around him tightly, having to hold back tears. This feels so nice. I missed this. I wasted years longing for it again. There’s still an unanswered question of what exactly Jimin meant, but I let it slide. I let my mind clear completely to enjoy the present. 

“I missed you so much Jungkook.” I muffle into his chest. My eyes water. 

“Stay with me tonight. W-With us. Like old times.” He whispers as his head sits on top of mine. 

My body is lit like a furnace. It’s comforting this time, not intense. They can read my mind so easily. I want to, I have to. For one night before they leave, I will. 

“Okay.” 

click here to read more of this story!

a/n: I know nothing about grown up jobs or how they work!!! keep that in mind dear god!!!

[coldflasher]

Salty ask list, 9 & 16? 👀

9. Most disliked character(s)?

Dion. Fucking Dion. I hate that bastard SO MUCH. I hate the entire forces plotline and basically all of season 7 but there is something about Dion in particular that I just LOATHE. Tbf when he was first introduced in his first ep I was okay with him but the more they leaned into the all-powerful force god side of things, the more my hatred grew... if Dion has no haters, I am dead

I also HATE that snide reporter (Taylor?) who works for Iris. The ep where she tries to sacrifice that one woman to those terrorists to save her own neck and outs Allegra as a metahuman and then by the end of the ep we're supposed to be cool with her? NO. I HATE HER.

Then there's Nash wells. My least favourite Wells. I hated him sliiightly less on my last rewatch but he's still the worst Wells. He literally led to the destruction of the multiverse because of his own stupidity. Like whyyyy did we keep getting lumped with all these increasingly irritating Wells doppelgangers when we could have just had Harry. And then Harry AND HIS WHOLE UNIVERSE gets erased BECAUSE OF NASH. I HATE THAT MAN.

And you know who else I... not hate, but find highly annoying? Khione. I actually think she could have been interesting if she had been a fusion of Caitlin and Frost and we actually got to see a version of the character that had grown and embraced both sides of herself instead of having these fractured identity states, but instead they just erased them both and gave us the most boring, insipid, flavorless replacement. Khione is such a Mary Sue. She's sooo perfect and kind and powerful with her magic nature powers!! Don't you love her? NO. NO I DON'T. We had 8 seasons of Caitlin and 7 of Frost (in some form) and I found it cheap and disrespectful of both their characters to kill them both off at the last minute and replace them with some wishy-washy hippy version with no personality and expect me to care about her (bear in mind that i haven't seen the end yet and i believe there is a bit more to the storyline that i havent got to see yet but either way i find her so annoying)

I feel in the early seasons there are no characters I actually hate because most if not all of them either had redeeming features or were compelling to watch but the later seasons were rife with insufferable characters who we're meant to like but just absolutely boiled my piss. like of these, only taylor was meant to be a villain and even then she gets a "redemption arc" of sorts but it wasn't enough for me. i wasn't buying it. taylor they could never make me like you

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

I mean the obvious answer is stop Len leaving, or at least bring him back, but barring that I would make Andrew Kreisberg not be a piece of shit so that we could have stuck with his original vision for the show and had it be good forever. Like. They were setting up some seriously good and interesting shit and there were so many cool plot threads and he seemed to have planned so many things years in advance but sadly he's a diabolical person. the industry is well rid of him for that reason but if I could wave a wand and make him be a good and normal person then I would do that. why are good showrunners so often terrible people >:(

barring that... i'd redo crisis entirely. i think they totally bottled that storyline. having it tied up with oliver was a HUGE mistake, they'd been building up to crisis and barry's disappearance since day 1 of the show and the way it went down was such an unbelievable disappointment and a disservice to the show as a whole imo.

also, i love them but i would seriously cut down bart and nora's role in the show, because it made the dynamics weird and aged westallen way before their time. just give them a spinoff or something. and i would get rid of any and all plotlines related to the forces but that goes without saying

[goose-books]

3 for Anna and Errans, and also 20 and 21 :3

i meant to remember to answer these before the last day of pride month. and then! anyway,

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

(godsong WIP page with links) (for context, anna is god's specialest girl ever and the main character, and she's a transfemme nonbinary lesbian. errans is a minor side character with terrible sideburns and transmasc unswag)

anna grew up in a city where priests have a special gender and pronoun, and she was designated a priest at age 11 by the gods, so her transness started as sort of an occupational thing; she was like, "okay, i'm priestgender," and then progressed to, "wait, i like this gender stuff." you are allowed to be priestgender and also another thing, and getting to explore her presentation at the temple lead to the realization that her Other Thing was womanhood (nonbinary-flavored). more a sister than a woman etc <3

as for the lesbianism, i don't think that was ever a discovery for him; there's no homophobia in ivander and his parents are in a bisexual polycule, so i think he just always knew his future person would be a woman. (i say "person" because ivander doesn't have legal marriage, but there is a religious equivalent if you want to dedicate yourself to someone long-term; otherwise you can just do Whatever. city that is absolutely bursting with gender and fruitiness)

errans i'm less sure about dskhfkdsfkdsnfsd. i know he came out as trans when he was around sixteenish; i think he knew he was bisexual first, and the image coming to me is errans experiencing the "do-i-want-to-date-that-guy-or-be-that-guy" about someone he probably never actually spoke to. i don't get a vibe like he ever loathed being a woman, more so that eventually he just realized he could simply be a man. for free. and was like. "well this is clearly so much more what i'm supposed to be doing"

now i'm thinking about awkward teenage errans and his awkward genvy crushes. god bless him

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

sigh. well i have to tell the story don't i. POV: you are [max], age 12, working on the first iteration of the story that will become TMR (my on-hiatus YA transgender evil-faerie high fantasy). you give the character who will become moon marigold all of your uncomfortable feelings about your body, feelings that are certainly not physical dysphoria because you are cisgender. about a year or so later, you realize that this WIP is full of cishet white people (i have since remedied this), and you should really add some diversity. hey, moon's got weird body feelings! what if you made her genderfluid? that sounds great! you are not thinking at all about where those weird body feelings may have come from or how this may reflect on anything at all.

POV: you are [max], still age 13ish, and you've got a new WIP (it's my also-on-hiatus NA monsters-in-NYC thing). you are going to put a binary transgender person in it. not for any specific reason. you just wanted to. who can say why. certainly not you. anyway you've never done this before and you are a little nervous because how can you, as a cisgender person, accurately represent a trans character? you muse about how to write dysphoria as you dress up for an orchestra concert, in an outfit that is extremely feminine. halfway through, you get derailed by crying real tears about said feminine outfit, because now the boy who sits beside you in the orchestra will know that you are a girl (because your long hair and name clearly couldn't have tipped him off beforehand). could you draw on this experience to describe dysphoria, you wonder? or maybe that other time you cried in the shower? but that's bad and wrong, isn't it? because you're cisgender. so comparing your own... whatever this is... to dysphoria would be an APPROPRIATION of dysphoria! how villainously cis of you! how horrible! you'll have to figure out some other way to write this character.

...anyway. thank you to moon and augustus for that. my kings my brothers in arms. and they BOTH do arson in their respective WIPs, so maybe i have another plot twist in my future?

21. Free ramble card wee

FREE RAMBLE WEE... hmm, well, since i've already touched on it a little in this ask, one of the most interesting things about worldbuilding for godsong is that most of the major settings don't have homophobia/transphobia/misogyny the same way that our world does. (i say most because ambergris is stuck in misogynyville. it's probably fine and i bet she won't get violent.) i honestly didn't think super hard about this; i just wanted to write a high fantasy world where women and nonbinary people and bisexuals and lesbians can hold positions of (sometimes corrupt) power, or where the chosen one can be a transfemme lesbian whose issues aren't transphobia but how to complete her quest.

except then i realized that not having homophobia/transphobia/misogyny invites so many other questions about the social fabric of a society. i mean, the modern legal concept of marriage is rooted pretty solidly in heterosexual relationships wherein women move from one family to another, right? so if gender relations are entirely different, do these places even have marriage? do these places even have gender? this is something i'm still figuring out (and honestly, if anyone has suggestions for media that pokes at this kind of thing, i'd love to hear them!). the two main cities in godsong are ivander (a theocracy) and farria (a democracy with a new revolution every tuesday), and i've been playing around in my head with some of the differences--for example, in ivander, being trans is generally considered holy, because the city's patron god is many-gendered; in farria, being trans is something nobody thinks twice about, because everyone is focused on Just Getting By. in ivander, there are at least three defined genders (man, woman, and priest) which can all overlap. in farria, gender doesn't define social relations so much as a parallel hierarchy of military and/or governmental power--eg, farria's very own neopronouns marc antony isn't afraid of "emasculation" in the gender sense, because xir gender is "if you like me you're gay," but xe's terrified of emasculation (for lack of a better word) in the sense of being seen as weak/submissive. in farria these things are way less connected than they are in our world. i'm still working out a lot of the details, but it's been a lot of fun to think about :3

wow that sure was a free ramble. thank you for the asks rook i love you so much <3

(pride asks!)

[jlf23tumble]

You know swifties actually also believe Taylor has ownership over her decisions and autonomy as a person. Like I think most of them understand she makes choices about what she wants in the press and to be talked about bc she’s an intelligent and capable fully-grown woman (see also: PR and marketing is and will always be a thing for celebs and they get that; she is, after all, a mastermind). Whereas according to parts of their fandom/s, Harry and Louis are simple-minded, persecuted babies used by (mostly) women and/or their team for clout/money/fame. So something as innocuous as Harry riding lime bikes becomes some great conspiracy.

While I’m not the most up to date on all of larr nation, I can tell you even if (when?) the late stagers eventually go silent misogyny is still unfortunately verrrrry alive in other parts of Harry’s fandom. Maybe they just feel safer being absolutely vile bc so many people loathed olivia and were so loud about it but they are also totally fine taking swipes at TR. SAD.

Sorry, I'm still stuck on my anon the other day talking about Larries being all wah wah lime bikes, lmao, but to your point, idk, man, I don't think late stagers are ever gonna let go of misogyny, even IF they go silent (which they won't), a quick lurk shows that the infamous olivia wilde is a cunt tag got watered down to her being "just" an asshole, all while frothing at the mouth in MULTIPLE more tags, so pathetically icky, but wow, her power! Livin' rent free, years later! Which brings me to Taylor Swift, same thing, a decade-PLUS later! Ladies are the worst, amirite? I do feel for Taylor Russell because the knives are sharpening daily, you can feel the gears turning, knowing they can't say racist shit (publicly), but my god, are they workin' the angles in the wrong direction (heh), as if SHE is somehow thirstier than he is for public relevance, THAT'S how far up his ass a good chunk of people are, jesus wept

[kikiyo]

what did i spend my night doing u ask? i created apparently my longest verse which is gensh/n impa/ct. i tried to brush up on sm lore but i still feel it's probably eh so subject to change if i reread this later on and realize any mistakes ;KHJASDF - that said it maintains the jewel canon AND sets her up to travel to any region of teyvat

Name:   Kikyō.

Constellation:   Lutum Cadaver (similar in look to that of the constellation Andromeda) .

Summary:   A shrine maiden of Watatsumi Island, Kikyō has been training alongside her younger sister for the majority of her life at the Sangonomiya Shrine to become a protector of the people of the island. Displaying an adept talent for the spiritual, rumored to be capable of communing with ghosts, spirits, and yōkai alike. As one of the few shrine maidens with an expertise in combat due to her survivalist nature (having traveled at a young age with her sister across the region, and staving off aggressive spirits and yōkai on her journeys), Kikyō is entrusted to handle the more delicate, and potentially violent, spiritual crises that arise throughout Watatsumi Island. 

On these journeys, she came across a hanyo, a half demon, named Inuyasha. To gain power, he held the intention of taking the jewel which Kikyō had been given to keep protected; within this jewel (the Shikon no Tama) raged a centuries-old battle between one of Kikyō’s ancestors, the Priestess Midoriko, and a thousand yōkai who had been set on destroying her. Priestess Midoriko was a divine priestess of Sangonomiya, and held a strong, deeply rooted innate spiritual prowess – she was able to purify demonic entities, rendering many yōkai with ill intent powerless. In her priestesshood, her dedication was not only to her people, but to keeping their god, Orobashi, safe from attack. 

Priestess Midoriko was loathed by power-hungry yōkai, and in an attempt to overwhelm her, she was ambushed. Though Orobashi lent Midoriko his power, there proved to be too many, and dragon yōkai caught Midoriko in its jaw. In a last ditch effort, with Orobashi’s power combined with her own, Midoriko sealed both herself and this dragon yōkai, the strongest and cruelest of the yōkai in all of Inazuma, into the Shikon no Tama, where they continued their battle. The jewel subsequently held a significant amount of power – it could grant a wish when in its complete form. With such immense, and potentially dangerous power, it was given to shrine maidens generation after generation to protect.

Fifty years ago, Kikyō had become its guardian, and suggested after becoming close with Inuyasha that he might use it to wish to become human, thus purifying the jewel and ending Midoriko’s battle, as well as Kikyō’s tether to this responsibility. A shapeshifting demon tricks the pair of them, however, in an attempt to steal the jewel, and in doing so Kikyō is killed and Inuyasha spiritually sealed. 

In the present day, Kikyō, for her historically powerful spiritual mastery, is dug up from her grave, and becomes something of a walking corpse – similar, in small part, to Albedo’s true nature just in the regard that she, too, is somewhat of an artificial human, crafted of soil and bone and, in her case, infused with her own spirit by way of rituals performed by the twisted priestess, Urasue, who sought to use Kikyō to gain more power, and find the Shikon no Tama which in recent times has been said to have been shattered by an unknown god and spread far across the whole of Teyvat. This instantly backfires, as Kikyō kills the woman as soon as her soul has returned to her. She first sets out on a mission of vengeance, to kill Inuyasha, who she still believes is responsible for her death. Discovering it was trickery, though she still intends to one day take his life, she focuses instead on gathering the jewel shards, traveling Teyvat to locate and secure them. Her intention is to gather them all on behalf of the yōkai who tricked her, Naraku, and once he has all the shards, she will use its wishing powers to purify him, thus the jewel will disappear, and she will kill his human form.

Powers:   For starters, Kikyō possesses an anemo vision, and is a bow wielder. Her attacks heal her allies and she is adept at medicinal practices, as well as an expert marksman. She received this anemo vision while alive, at a young age, when protecting herself and her sister on their travels, not long after their parents had died. She is technically immortal, in that she will not age, but she is still immune to attacks, particularly poison. She possesses a purifying ability which deals extra damage to demonic creatures.

Settings:   This is specifically designed for Genshin Impact, so takes place anywhere within that world; particularly suited towards Inazuma.

Writing Partners:   tba.

[fromtheboundlesssea]

Given his obessesion and possessiveness toward Alicent, that grew into smt toxic especially during the wartime, and how years later people still remember that and there are stories like his ghost are still chasing/finding Alicents spirit from hell to earth to heaven (basically everywhere), i have a feeling Alicent will die before Rhaenor. Maybe he also has to witness her death before his eyes, and cant do anything to save/bring her back? I mean, if he dies before her, i imagine his ghost would watch over her. He would know where she is and wait for her in the after life. Like, the moment she pass away, he would jump upon her and take her with him, no matter she wants it or not. But if his ghost still hopelessly/madly try to find her for years, like people (in-universe) suggest, i think it make sense more if she dies before him, so he doesnt know where she would go. Think about it. The war happened because of him. She always said he was too blind to recognize it (the possibility of a war) but he just brushed it off, and told her she was just worry for nothing. And then, war happened. His bastards really went against him and usurpe him and his only heir, as Alicent always affraid. The bloodly war cost so many innocent lives, including most of his children/grandchildren. Especially his trueborn children with the woman he loved most. And she also dies before him, because of him. I think Alicent would be the last one to die, after her children (except one surviving child, if he/she happens to be Alicents kid). My headcanon for Alicents last moment is something like in canon. Rhaenor would be the one beside her in her last moment (instead of a septa/servant like in book canon), but she doesnt recognize him. Her last words would be about how she want to meet her children (who die in the war, before her), call their names. And she also want to read to old king Viserys again, because he said she has a lovely voice (in NGNM universe, Viserys is Alicents kind father-in-law, always support her and they are close). The fact that She mentioned her kids, even her father in law, but not her husband, Nothing about him at all, even tho he is right beside her, listen to her words and beg for her to stay with him. This make Rhaenor think she completely forgot about him, or he is the the most painful memory in her life that, that she hates/loaths him so much she doesnt want to mention his name again with her last breath. And then he cant do anything but only watching her pass way in his arms. This would be the final nail in Rhaenors coffin. Make sense if in after life, he still try to find her, begging for her forgivness. And imo, he would never have them: the reunion with Alicent and her forgiveness. So he just keep chasing/finding for her, for eternity. The would be the most cruel punishment the gods give him, but also serve him right, for all he had done to her.

🤐

[astromechs]

A, V, and X Pls 😊

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

not to be Like This, but scarletnovadevil (rich/matt/wanda), the ot3 i invented, has completely taken over my life. i will shout from the rooftops every single day about how these characters all really vibe so well together. it's about the shared experiences of trauma, mental illness, and self-loathing, but realizing that good things are still out there for you if you're willing to work at them — and if you have supportive, understanding, and loving people by your side.

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

neo/trinity — the matrix series

katniss/peeta — the hunger games

marianne/heloise — portrait of a lady on fire, because this absolutely counts

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

ok i will give a smattering assortment of characters here, because i have a lot of favorites:

katniss everdeen (thg) — i don't see it as much anymore, but people were really out here coming for a traumatized teenage girl and calling her a sociopath because she was a lil blunt and not super nice, like... WHAT. anyway, katniss my best girl. named my cat after you. you're the best always. love how she was messy and real and not at all like an archetypal protagonist.

anakin skywalker (star wars) — ok. i know. ok. yes. he's done the war crimes and made horrible decisions in his life and i'm not going to excuse any of that. but the jedi were emotionally invalidating assholes and he was immensely traumatized and taken advantage of by an emotionally manipulative prick. i will always stand by anakin bye

sherlock holmes was one of my og blorbos and while he doesn't need defending necessarily, christ did the bbc show give people a weird perception of him. he's just a funky little weirdo who likes solving puzzles and hates cops, why are you all being weird

clark kent/superman — i have been constantly having to fend off the "lol he's boring" allegations for him ever since i can remember. sorry if you're so unimaginative that you cannot possibly think that a guy who's just genuinely a good person and uses his power to help people is interesting. i feel sorry for your life. (note, this also applies to other characters who fit into this general category of character, especially my beloved boy rich rider, who also has to fend off the "lol boring" allegations from time to time. BEGONE)

i feel like pretty much any comic book woman who does something out of line needs defending, but i'll use this space to defend some of my faves. so elektra likes a little murder, so what, she's sexy for that and i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. if anyone comes for gamora it's on sight. i will also always stand up for wanda because everything she's done is justified, and it's not her fault that everyone in her life has completely failed her when she needed help. like, honestly fuck both the avengers and the x-men lol

as a bonus this needs to be said — i'm peter quill's defense lawyer, even for the war crimes 616 peter committed, but also, y'all. y'all. mcu peter quill didn't do anything wrong in infinity war, you're just dumb for still arguing about this FIVE YEARS LATER.

also for the holy love of god are peter parker and matt murdock horribly misinterpreted by fans, like, always. bad takes abound. i'm here to defend the honor of y'all's characterization as well as your bisexuality.

fandom meme!

[johnwinscher]

First Kiss

First kiss. 

Her name was Sara. A thirteen year old flower child of the 90’s, she had a cute scrunched up face, long brown curls, blue eyes and a way about her as if she already knew who she was. Not me, there was constant chaos between my ears. A 15 year old, cheek pinched, prepubescent boy with center parted, blue hair, who’s extreme self loathing was expressed in nightly crying fits and compensated for with a smart ass mouth that somehow managed not to get punched.

We met at a dance in a neighboring town. This was Minnesota, 1996. I slow danced with her to Fields of Gold on the gymnasium floor. I put my hands around her. I remember feeling her shoulder blades through her white, knit sweater.  She smelled like hard candy. Our bodies pressed together and I could feel her breathing. My heart was racing, I had no words, I was dumb.

She liked me right away. I think I liked her. I wanted to like a girl. I played the part, I watched a lot of movies, I had romantic ideas. I bought a rose and attached a card that said “Will you go out with me. - John”. Then I had the school secretary use the intercom to call Sara out of class. Kudos to that woman, she smiled knowingly and made the announcement. I met  Sara in the hallway on her way back from the office, gripping the rose, her face contorted, she cried out “Yes!”. To me, she looked and sounded like she was crying and smiling and laughing all at once. She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me with every muscle in her bony body. 

Two weeks later, we had our first kiss. It was end of day Friday. In the halls chaos reigned. I planned to meet her at her locker. I took the route through the gym, past the stage, through the double doors and along the 8th grade lockers. Her locker was at the end of the hall, near the art class. She was artistic, I wonder if she still is? I slowed down, I saw her digging into her top locker, she could barely reach it. She saw me standing there, she smiled behind her shoulder, her eyes squinting. I remember the chaos all around us. 7th graders hollering, pushing each other, slamming steel lockers as hard as they could. I waited for her to get her things. When she closed her locker and turned around, her hair following her, I leaned in. I remember staring at her lips, focusing on her lips, if I kept looking at her lips, I couldn't miss. I watched them come closer till they disappeared under my face. Oh my God! I could not believe how soft her lips were! I never imagined anything could be so soft. I was astonished. I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t know this kind of softness existed in the word. I pulled away. She smiled her scrunched up smile, her eyes searching mine for my thoughts. She was in love with me. I was just doing what I thought I was supposed to do. I knew you were supposed to touch a girl’s face when you kissed her. I had heard you should put your hand on the “small of her back” (whatever that was) when you pulled her close.  I don’t think Sara was in her head, I think she was really there, in the hall, in the chaos.

It would be years before I would catch up to her, before I could be there in the hall with her. Many times over the years I wished I could go back and be next to her, put my arm around her, be her boyfriend, listen to all her thoughts, watch her laugh, take her fishing, take her snowboarding, go everywhere with her, learn about our bodies together, learn about loving someone and fighting and forgiving someone. Learn how to be little humans together.  

But I didn’t do any of that. A few weeks later, after make-out sessions and holding hands and drinking peach schnapps, I broke her sweet heart. She cried and begged me to look at her. I ignored her. I actually refused to talk to her. The cool kids, told me to dump her and I listened. Like a fool, like a little shit, like a robot. I needed to be liked by as many people as possible. She stood crying as I walked away from her. Catching her breath she squeaked out “why won’t you talk to me?!’ The cool kids watched, side eyed smiles. This was their plan to keep me. Keep me from the artsy girl who was different, keep me close enough to tease and be teased by. I was happy to comply. I needed a way out, I couldn’t let it go further, she had come so close, inches from my shame, my dirty secret. If she got there, she would recoil.  No more scrunched up smiles, no more sweet looks. She would think I’m disgusting, a little freak, someone to ridicule and point at, and tell everyone else to point at, so they could all hate me as much as I hated myself. 

The End

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment. 

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly. 

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches. 

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.” 

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest. 

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement. 

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room. 

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up. 

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently. 

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric? 

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends. 

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back. 

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.” 

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school. 

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High. 

Cut all ties now. You have two days. 

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Zara.” 

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders. 

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym. 

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle. 

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left. 

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand. 

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to  catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning. 

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door. 

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

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[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (14/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.4k words

Warning : angst, sad reader, angry reader, dumbass Bucky, Steve being likable for once, smartass Sam, reader finally having some friends, mention of assault, confrontation, drinking, fluff, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca

Unlike you, Bucky remembered everything. He could never forget that you were hurt because of him — tied to a chair for hours while he couldn't save you — crying on the bathroom floor as he held you. The only thing common in all of those instances was him. You had to go through shit because of him, and yet, you still didn't blame him. You wrapped your arm around him as if he wasn't the cause of your pain. It was clear that his past and the baggage that he came with didn’t bother you. In fact, you understood and accepted his trauma and still loved him. You didn't love him despite his baggage. No, you loved him with every bad thing he offered.

Bucky was sure you were delusional. No sane woman would want to be with the man who was responsible for her captivity, yet you snuggled closer towards him the moment this thought occurred in his head. And Bucky loved you more because of that, and he thought he wasn't physically capable of loving you more than he already did. Bucky knew you reciprocated those feelings, it was very obvious that both of you were a goner for the other. Nevertheless, those emotions were not voiced out loud in your relationship yet. And Bucky wanted it to stay that way.

Bucky decided to sneak out of your bed and house before you could wake up. He was aware it was cowardly of him to just leave without giving you an explanation. But if he stayed to explain, you would have asked him to stay, and he didn't have it in himself to tell you no. You were the ray of sunshine in his stormy life and he could never say no to you. You could ask him to get you the sun, and he would get it for you, even after knowing that it would kill him and the humankind in the process. He would still do it.

But what he couldn’t do was refuse you, so he would have to leave you instead.

***

You woke up a bit disoriented, unaware of the surroundings you were in. It took you a minute to process that you were in your own house and not held captive. Once you came back to your senses instinctively you called for Bucky. He held you while you slept the previous night, so he had to be out in the kitchen. When no response came back, you went out to check for him, only to be met with an empty house.

When you tried to contact him, Bucky was distant. He didn’t respond to your texts and your mind was telling you that something was wrong, but you shoved those thoughts sideways, hoping that maybe he was busy with work. But you both went through something traumatic, you needed him to be with you. If he were busy, he could have at least texted you.

Well, if he was going to ignore you, then you wouldn't be one of those people whose life revolved around their partner. You had a book to write and ambitions that didn’t involve him. 

Two hours later, when there was no word from him, you stared at the blank  screen on your computer. You weren’t unfamiliar with writer's block, but it had been months and you haven't written a single line since the incident in the club involving Rumlow. And now that you were alone with your thoughts, you started doubting everything. Should you have stayed in that corporate 9 to 5 job? You'd have a stable life and a fixed salary. Maybe you could have even got a promotion. Should you have filed a complaint against Rumlow? Bucky wanted you to, he even assured you the cops would be on your side, but you just weren't ready. You realized that by choosing to remain silent, you were sending a predator out in the world. He could do that to other people and you could have stopped it.

A knock on the front door interrupted your train of thoughts and you were grateful for the person on the other side. You assumed it was Bucky, he didn’t need to buzz in because he literally owned the building. Well, it could also be any one of his friends. Sam and Steve also didn't need permission . And the other day when Peter came by to give you your phone (you left it in the club), he didn't buzz in either. 

Seeing Wanda, Peter and Pietro on the door was a good change and God, you needed a change or else you'd go mad with self-loathing. 

“We brought pizza,” Wanda exclaimed, lifting the bag in her hand to show you.

You didn't say anything, just smiled at them thankfully. You were really delighted they were here. Not only that, but you didn't have many friends here, and you considered your work friends, your only friends. It was nice to see that they saw you as a friend too and not just someone they work with.

“And beers,” Pietro chimed in, raising the carton in his hand. 

You looked at Peter before teasing, “Is he even legal, guys?”

Seeing you joke around with them made Wanda happy. Between all the testosterone, she truly needed a female friend, and she was relieved to see you treating them as friends rather than colleagues. And she understood the trauma that must haunt you since your kidnapping. She was an empath and when you didn’t show up at work, she grew worried. 

Half an hour later, most of you were on your second beer. Pietro was on his fourth. That man was fast at everything he did. A movie was playing in the background that none of you paid attention to while everyone was settled on your couch. It wasn't a very spacious couch, you were all squashed into it, but it was too comfortable to leave. You were sitting in between Peter and Wanda, while Pietro was situated beside his sister.

You forgot how nice it felt to have friends and bitch about people to them.

“And just like that he was gone. I woke up and he wasn't there,” you told them, “Hasn't been taking my calls either.”

Pietro took a sip of his drink before saying, “What an ass!”

Wanda raised her bottle, nudging all of you to join her, and said, “Fuck men!” 

“Amen!” you agreed, Peter and Pietro nodded too.

“You should focus on your book,” Pietro advised, “Bucky is gonna regret if he loses someone like you, babe.”

The book. Your book. You couldn't tell them why you weren't focused on the book. It was still a lot to process, and you were not ready, so you nodded before chanting, “Fuck Bucky!”

***

“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned as he and his husband entered the  office.

“Last I checked, I own this place.”

Sam huffed, “I meant why are you here instead of her place, smartass?”

Bucky looked around to avoid the questioning gaze of both Sam and Steve. He hadn’t talked to Steve since the argument they had over you. Of course, they did discuss business as usual, but nothing related to their personal life.

 “She doesn't need me,'' Bucky murmured and looked at Steve. “You must be pleased to know that it's over.”

Bewilderment was clear on the faces of both the men because Bucky exhaled loudly before continuing, “I almost got her killed. It would be wise and safe for her to not be with me.”

Steve finally spoke, “Did she say that?”

When his best friend shook his head ‘no’, Steve sighed in exasperation. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, that's what you wanted, didn't you?” Bucky retorted, “For me to focus on work and not on her.”

 “I was clearly wrong, pal,” Steve raised his hand in exasperation as if it was obvious, “And I’m sorry for that.” 

“Well, it's over now.”

***

“Before I met Nat. I dated a girl who pretended to be gay,” Wanda scrunched her nose, remembering the awful memory.

“Oh yeah, weird Sallie,” Pietro smiled teasingly, “Did you guys know that when Wanda brought her home, she hit on our dad?”

 “No!” Both you and Peter cried out, stupefied at his words.

“Yeah,” Wanda outlined, “And on Pietro too.”

 “I mean, Mr. Barnes is not like this,” Peter brought the conversation back to Bucky and you sucked in a heavy breath. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing all of this.”

“Seriously?” you were pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to talk about Bucky. You looked at Wanda and Pietro for support, but they shrugged their shoulders in a manner that said, ‘He's not wrong, though.’

You wanted to go to bed and sleep. But you knew they were right. Bucky would never hurt you intentionally, you knew that. “Do you guys know where he is now?”

***

Since trying to talk some sense into Bucky wasn't working, Sam and Steve retaliated back to talk about business.

“Clint is officially out of here,” Steve reported, “Torturing him would just create more ruckus. Rumlow is behind us because he wants his weapons in the government, and Clint would just be a casualty in all this shit. He has three kids.”

Sam huffed, “We told Laura. Her wrath would be worse for Clint than our fists.”

Bucky didn't say anything and just nodded. Steve could feel something was on Bucky's mind, wrapping his arms to his chest, he raised a brow towards his best friend.

“I’m just tired of all of this,” Bucky said sadly, “Is this what we left Rumlow for, pal? You have a kid at home, Wanda has a wife, I have ma and Bec and I haven't met them in years, in fear of someone following me. And now — Well, now I’ve lost the girl too."

Steve and Sam looked at their friend with sympathy. They knew the toll their work took on all of them. Hell, they had a four-year-old daughter at home, and could barely sleep at night, always terrified of losing their kid because of their job.

Sam was about to ask Bucky to suggest an alternative that would help all of them could to make it out of there and just work on the club and not some shady business. Suddenly, the office door flung open and on purpose, everyone’s hand reached for the gun in their waistband. But in walked you with a beer bottle in your hand and a pizza slice in another.

“JAMES BUCKY BARNES!” You exclaimed, your steps wavering a little as you walked towards him. Oh, and you looked royally pissed.

Instantly, Bucky was on his feet and making his way towards you, to hold you — to be near you. And before you could say anything, he was engulfing his arms around your waist, his head settled at the crane of your neck and you frowned. Okay, You did not expect that. You thought he would ignore you, and you would give him a piece of your mind before leaving.

Sober you would have asked him to have a mature conversation like adults, but tipsy you wanted to flip him off and leave. Your arms hung around your sides awkwardly, trying to understand the situation before finally pushing him away.

“You left me,” you spoke so softly that if Bucky wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard it. “I needed you and you left me alone.”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words. He didn't consider how his rash decision would affect you. You were kidnapped by the person who assaulted you. Fuck, he cursed himself. He was supposed to be protecting you, not hurting you. You sounded so hurt that Bucky wanted to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness. He was so focused on your physical injuries, he did not even realize he was hurting you emotionally.

Steve cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable to present. He interrupted and took his husband’s hand in his, “We’re going to go.”

Before they could leave, you shifted your attention towards Steve and pointed a finger at him. “Why do you hate me?”

Steve stammered, he didn't expect you to put him in a spot like this, but you had a tad more than necessary liquid courage in your system.

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and you moved your gaze back towards him. Steve took the opportunity and left the room with Sam.

You were on the verge of tears by now — both of you were — Bucky wasn't a man who could voice his feelings, but with you, all of his armor came shattering down. With you — he would tell you his vulnerabilities and fears just so he could let you in. You meant so much to him that the fear of losing you blinded his sense of understanding. He realized that he acted immaturely and by doing so, he almost lost you.

“You hurt me,” Your voice wavered, the traitorous tears made their way down your eyes, and Bucky couldn't see you like that. Instinctively, he stretched his hands to wrap around you, but stopped, “Can I hold you?”

You sniffled and nodded, and Bucky engulfed you flush against his chest. After a while, you snaked your hands around his shoulder too, and a sob broke down from your throat.

He didn't remember how long he held you like this, but after a while, he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He stood before you and then slid one hand up to your cheek. Likewise, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. And then you slowly straddled his waist as you both settled down on the soft sofa. Bucky’s hands fell naturally to your hips to pull you closer.

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, once your tears suspended. You enveloped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his.

Bucky didn’t know whether you meant it or not. You were pretty drunk. He hoped you did.

“I love you, doll,” he confessed as he kissed the crown of your head. He noticed that you were on the brink of sleep, your breathing even, and you looked so peaceful in his arms.

 He felt at ease — calm even with you in his arms and in that moment he decided he was never letting you go no matter what.

TAGS :  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp

Taglist for future stuff.

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

[pigeonp0st]

As promised I now am more familiar with Lena (and I'm in love w this woman) I came to request Lena being insecure cause she grew up with her abusive mother and she's touch starved and she doesn't know how to show affection to her girlfriend (reader) but R notices she's acting a little distant and they just end up with cuddles or something like that! Pls I just need something really fluffy cause Lena deserves the world!

Lena Luthor x Reader #1

Words:1,491

Warnings: depressing thoughts (?)

Notes:

Yay! Thank you for my first Lena request ;) this...didn’t turn out as fluff filled as I planned originally, but I hope you enojoy it anyways. (Sorry for spelling mistakes!)

————

Llllian and the Luthors ingrained many things in Lena that she’s still struggling to get over. Currently, physical affection is something she’s trying to get used to—physical affection that isn’t for manipulative purposes, at least.

It’s hard though. It’s easy to want (she’s wanted it like this, from you especially, for a very long time) but hard...to accept.

That’s why when you cuddle into her at night, unprovoked, Lena only thinks of all the ways she’s undeserving.

You wrap your arms around Lena from behind, and rest your head on her shoulder like it’s nothing, and she wonders when you’ll realize she’s not good enough.

You give, and you give, and you ask for nothing in return, and Lena see’s memories of a girl who looked up at her mother with desperation, and a need for approval, and got nothing in return.

Lena remembers a girl who tried, and tried, and learned too late that nothing she ever did would ever be enough for love. That to them, she would never be worthy of love.

Intellectually Lena knows that when she was four years old, being handed to the Luthors, she had to have known what love and affection was—she looked for it with such a large amount of wanting that she couldn’t not have known what it felt like—but now…

Now Lena just doesn’t know. Well...she does, but she doesn’t know how to react to it anymore. She doesn’t know how to give it.

She does know what it feels like.

It feels like your hugs that make her feel safe, and your hand in hers that makes her feel grounded, and your kisses that make her feel like everything’s going to be okay.

Sometimes, sometimes, it’s enough to make Lena feel like this isn't something she has to earn.

Other, more unfortunate times, it serves in making Lena feel guilty. She feels guilty that she’s never the one reaching, and that you’re always the one pulling, so she pushes away because of it.

She tries to be subtle but in hindsight she probably isn’t more obvious.

Lena tries to ignore the flash of hurt in your eyes when she pulls her hand away with an excuse, and the defeat in your voice when Lena says she’s going to be home late “so just just go ahead and go to bed by yourself,” And all the while she doesn’t even know why she’s pushing when it hurts so much.

It doesn’t even help the guilt, it only makes her feel more guilty and angry at herself, and perhaps this is what she deserves.

Perhaps the self-loathing she’s so accustomed to has become a comfort.

———

You gave Lena her space—the space you aren’t even sure she wanted—but now a confrontation is in order.

You corner her in the living room one day (not really, all you do is shut her laptop and sit on her so she can’t escape) and Lena blinks up at you and says; “I was wondering how long this would take,” like she already knows what’s happening.

You’re not sure how she knows when not even you know what your plan is here...but you suppose she’s a genius for a reason.

“Lena,” you start, pouting, because you want her to know this isn’t a fight. It’s a conversation, you don’t want Lena getting defensive before it even begins.

She’s tense enough as is.

“We said we’d talk about things,” you remind her, your pout turning into a comforting smile. “What’s bothering you?”

Lena laughs, unsurprised, and says, quietly, “I have a feeling you already know.”

And yeah, you sort of do, but not completely, because Lena’s been pulling away from you, but she looks like she’s pulling herself apart too.

“Was it too much?” You ask, tilting her chin up with your pointer finger, “do you want me to dial it back on the touching?”

The way Lena’s eyes immediately widen in alarm is answer enough, but she vocalizes her disapproval anyways with a choked out; “No.”

The look you give her is complete confusion.

“No, no,” Lena repeats, eyebrows coming together, “I just—I’m—” she pauses, releasing a breath. “I’m sorry, give me a moment.”

You wait patiently while Lena gathers her thoughts, and smile to yourselves at the subconscious tap of her fingers on your arm.

“I can’t give the way you do,” Lena finally says, after what feels like hours but must’ve been minutes, and you know what she means. “I don’t know how to give affection like it’s an everyday thing, and I felt...like an asshole.”

You snort, but Lena continues after a flick to your arm, “I guess I distanced myself because sometimes I felt too much guilt around you.”

“You guess?” You tease, smiling.

Lena relaxes immediately at your smile and groans, because yeah, she knows it doesn’t make sense, she’s already acknowledged that. “I don’t really know what I was doing.”

“Lena,” you sigh, feigning exasperation, “I don’t need you to instigate hugs, or hold my hand, or be the one to cuddle up to me, or give me load of kisses, or—”

“—I get it.”

“I just need you close enough that I can do all of those things for us,” you finish.

You don’t let Lena look away when she tries, instead you clasp her face in between your hands and bring your faces close enough together that you two are touching noses.

“Even if i’m the one that instigates all of those things...Lena, you do realize that you’re usually the one that doesn’t let me pull away, right?”

She gives you a bewildered look that has you pulling away and laughing into her neck, because god, your girlfriend is a dork.

“You cling to me like a fucking sloth, babe.”

“I don’t,” Lena protests, looking aghast, but you aren’t done.

“And not only that, but you’re getting better Lena, you truly are,” you assure her, because she is. Even this week while she was pulling away from you, she still gave you subtle unconscious touches, touches that she wouldn’t have given as mindless as she had when the two of you had just met.

“I…” Lena blinks, caught off guard, “well then.”

You roll your eyes playfully, because of course Lena doesn’t see her progress. She’ll only ever see where she’s “lacking”. It’s fine though, you’ll just show her how great she is until she’s able to see for herself. All of her friends will.

“Baby, all you need to do is let me love you and it’s all I’ll ever want to do,” you admit, ghosting your finger over her cheek. Loving Lena Luthor is the easiest, most awarding, thing you’ve ever done, when she smiles at you the way she smiles at you now. Complete admiration.

Yes; this is your award.

——-

Later, when the two of you are going to bed, Lena wraps her arms around you and whispers, quietly into the darkness, “thank you”, and you love her.

You love her despite the way she struggles, and because of the way she tries, and you love her because she looks at you like you make trying easier.

“Lena?” You ask, seeing if she’s awake. She is, she kisses your cheek sleepily to let you know, and you smile immediately.

“I’m so proud of you. Not just for this progress, but for everything you are, and for everything you accomplished for people who wouldn’t acknowledge it,” you sigh into her hair, consumed by unwavering sadness for a little girl that deserved better, and for an adult that deserves more. “I see it. I acknowledge it. You’re amazing, Lee.”

This, this she has to know. This, the world needs to know.

Lena says nothing for such a long while that you think she’s fallen asleep, but then, right as you’re on the verge of sleep she whispers, wonder in her voice, “why is it that I believe you?” And then, quietly, “why is it that you make me feel worthy?”

You fall asleep wondering yourself how a woman so full of worth, and brilliance, can believe so little in herself.

Then you dream of a mother with an icy fake smile, and a brother with a crazed look in his eye, and a father who was much too busy, and you know.

You know. So when you wake up the next morning you tighten your arms around a peaceful sleeping Lena and wish only to protect her from evil that she sometimes (foolishly) believes is in herself.

——

She wakes up with mischief in her eyes, and a bright smile on her lips, and you think that maybe you should be focusing more on protecting your own heart if she keeps looking at you with that look on her face.

“Good morning, my hero,” you rasp out, lost in green eyes.

Lena’s smile turns impossibly soft. “Good morning, my love.”