#i've definitely lost the thread here sorry

[rapha-reads]

Things from Interview With The Vampire s02e04 (ep11) I noticed:

[Edit 1: Actually this turned into a live-commenting, sorry]

[Edit 2: Keep in mind, I haven't read the books, so all of these observations are born from the show itself and the few (lots of) spoilers and narrative plot points I've gleaned here and there.]

Both Claudia and Louis are so bored with the coven. Or maybe bored isn't the word, but... Done? Frustrated and annoyed? Restless? Louis because he never intended to join and so cares not all for all their internal affairs. Claudia because she thought she'd finally have the life she wanted and instead is being forced to relive the tragedy of her life day after day.

And Armand rejoices in drawing them further apart, scolding and punishing Claudia while begging scraps from Louis.

And he's soooo jealous. The face he makes when Louis starts explaining what Dreamstat feels like is priceless.

Also, personal theory: either Louis is indeed suffering psychotic breaks after psychotic breaks, or just manifesting his own version of Lestat because he doesn't want to let go. Or Lestat can astral project and has been stalking Louis from the moment they left New Orleans.

The coven is tearing itself apart. And normally I'd add "and Armand isn't even seeing it/taking it seriously yet" but given that the whole of them are unreliable narrators and that Armand is a shady ass bitch whose only agenda is himself, I'd say he's well aware and purposefully making it worse.

I can't make sense of Santiago yet, though. Is he jealous? Ambitious? Is he fond of Claudia? Does he hate her? He definitely hates Louis, but is it just jealousy or real antipathy? Oh, but Louis is still my precious special kitten and that speech about Paris, art and modernity, as a contemporary culture student, made me vibrate a little out of my chair, and Santiago clowning him makes me want to claw his face. We get it, you hate him and you think he's pretentious, now can you shut up and let us talk a bit more about the art scene in Paris post-WW2 and why Louis is absolutely right, Picasso isn't all that impressive in the end? Thanks. Bacon tho, Bacon is interesting. My contemporary art teacher last year was excruciatingly boring, but he had a boner for both Louise Bourgeois and Bacon and we spent several hours on them (and not nearly enough about Mapplethorne, alas). Anyway. I feel ya, Lou. I have been called pretentious too for simply getting excited about art, culture and folkore.

I'm rooting for Louis and Claudia to kill them all off and run away to Italy. I know it won't happen, but one can dream, eh.

Is Armand messing up with both Daniel by getting into his mind and Louis by switching the photos? Interesting. Two people who have a shitton of issues stuck with a sadistic, insecure and bitter control freak who's been pulling the threads since way before anyone realises. And Louis is so lost in his trauma and grief and anger, he trusts Armand and doesn't see what's happening and been happening to him for 70 years, while Daniel is just a sad, sick old man who thinks he knows his life and what his future entails. Armand is definitely having fun.

"Je n'aime pas fenêtre quand fermée" is NOT FRENCH, MY EARS. I will be picky, I don't care for artistic licence. Correct sentence would be "je n'aime pas les fenêtres quand elles sont fermées". Admittedly, if it goes into a song, you'd have to respect the length of the line and all those musical measures. But still. You could shorten the numbers of syllables by dropping the language register: "j'aime pas les f'nêtres quand elles sont fermées" ; from 12 or 13 to 9, the original line being 8 or 9. Depending on whether you say "je-n'ai-me-pas" or "je-n'aim-pas" and "fe-nê-tres" or "fe-nêtres". Anyway. I'm sure the writers had those discussions (I hope; hey, AMC, hire me, I'm a good proofreader and I speak 5 languages).

Me: oh, Louis isn't even bothering now, he's directly talking to... Wait, is Lestat eating that photo? If it's Dreamstat: the hell is going on in your head, Louis? If it's Astral Lestat: that is certainly a choice, my friend.

"Barely Balthasar", LMAO, Lestat I fucking love you. Poor Balthasar always gets forgotten in adaptations. Nope, we're not here to talk R&J, moving on.

Armand: "this is my tragic backstory. Feel pity for me. I'm the good guy." Me: yeaaah, how much of this is actually real? And, uh, no, like Lestat said: ha! You're a storyteller and a conman, Armand. You weave your story to pluck at the heart's threads of your audience, modulating it to their sensibilities to better serve your own interests and your plans. What are those interests, these plans? Hell if I know. But I absolutely do not trust you at all.

HANDS OFF CLAUDIA OR I'LL BITE

"The wilderness that is our daughter" have I said lately how much I love Lestat.

Oh, hello, the Loustat scene on the bench just broke my heart, which is funny if you consider that that's just Louis breaking up with himself. Also, do we consider Louis knew about the initials in the pocket, and Dreamstat is saying what Louis wants him to say, or is it another unreliable narrator Louis, or is it Lestat himself...?

Aw, going from the Loumand scene on the bench to "toxic gay divorce with body count" sure is a tonal shift. Lmao. You're losing your touch, Armand. Louis' awakening. Daniel's awakening... San Francisco next, that will be fun. Excited to see how they've changed that part, knowing it's the red thread of the first book.

...

Oooh, that got long. Apologies. I really need to sit and read those books.

[fixaidea]

So at this point I think I'm deep enough into DMBJ to allow myself to have some Opinions, so here they are:

Books:

I'm only in the early chapters of Vol. 4 (basically the beginning of Ultimate Note) so a lot may change, but so far it's an enjoyable adventure series. It's refreshing that they're allowed to say 'zombie' and 'grave robber'. Also it makes much more internal sense than most of the dramas, not to mention the individual arcs get their proper mini-climaxes instead of leaving you with never ending narrative blueballs.

The consolidation of the Iron Triangle is a lot slower than in the dramas, but I know they'll get there, I've seen all the cute excerpts from the later books!

Also, I'm usually very wary of First Person narration, because the entire enjoyability of the book hinges on how entertaining the Main Character is, there's no escaping their head. Luckily Wu Xie is an interesting and fun head to be in. I cannot logically explain why he's giving me Rincewind vibes, but he kinda does. It's probably the constant internal screaming - though for him, when the 'flight or fight' instinct kicks in, he starts to bite.

Dramas:

The Lost Tomb:

The good: Say what you will, but I like the visuals. Also they were still allowed to say 'zombie' here.

The bad: I have nothing against Yang Yang, but the hair stylist obviously did.

The Lost Tomb 2:

The good: Cheng Yi and his ears.

The bad: ...So did we ever find out wtf was all that about Zhang Buxun? 'Cause if anything even remotely similar happens in the books, it comes up way further back, if at all. (If this thread DOES get resolved in 2,5 then I apologise, but pretty much everyone who mentions that drama warns against bothering with it, so I never did.)

Theirs is probably the least book-like Wu Xie.

Ultimate Note:

The good: Love this Iron Triangle, and generally I had more fun with this than the pervious two dramas.

The bad: I understand that if you don't have much of a budget quality soundtrack is probably the first to go, but I don't have to LIKE it.

Sha Hai:

The good: Man I love this one. Pretty self-contained, also one of the best production-quality-vise. Also all the thumbs-up to Qin Hao for pulling off this ruthless, bitter Wu Xie with just enough hints of the old Tianzhen that you can see this is still the same character.

The bad: Li Cu, my guy, I'm so sorry but I couldn't give a shit about awkward teenage love-stories when I was an awkward teenager and I'm not gonna start now.

Reboot (I'm only at ep. 14, so jury is still out):

The good: Definitely the best production, and I love the soundtrack.

The bad: Did the author fall out of love with Pangzi or...? In all other versions he's fun AND competent, here he's been relegated to a clown. :(

[anonymous-dentist]

In my head, Roier never actually gave birth and instead it's another one of his fantasies. It helps reinforce how unstable, sad and yearning for love he actually is; my poor baby :(

But I see you've taken a different route, I guess.

I just love the idea of Roier being so clueless about love in general, so lost in his mind that his thoughts blur with reality to create his own;

Just Cell and him lying side by side, Cell caressing gently along his body.

Roier "Ah, sorry about these marks, I know they're ugly"

Cell stops. "What marks?"

I'm just sharing my headcanon with the world because I love but you can totally ignore this ask if you want, no hard feelings!

Peace and Love and Murder ✌

(Another note: I also hc that Natalan is, in fact, fucking terrified and horrified by Roier deep down. Poor dude, at least Cell is here to be a new object of obsession!)

(You accidentally sent this twice, so I'll just answer this one! :D)

Now, to be fair, I haven't actually seen Chafaland. Because I don't speak Spanish. But I have read a recap thread, and idk much about Chafaland lore, but I do know a Little Creature when I see one:

So this is the canon I'm going with for Bad Romance. He had a kid, and you can guess what that implies for his character pretty easily. (🏳️‍⚧️)

To me, the Sally that he ended up imagining was Sally 2. He also fully believes that he's going to open his eyes one day and find Sally Harold back in his arms. Once upon a time, he also imagined Natalan being there with him. Now, he pictures someone else in bed next to him cooing at their baby, and he's definitely over Natalan.

Definitely.

This is just what I'm working with though! I haven't seen the actual series, so who knows? This is what I've got, but your headcanon is obviously chill, too.

I do personally agree with Natalan being fucking terrified of Roier, though. Watching through clips, he did everything he could to keep Roier away from him, but nothing seemed to work. Luckily for him, Roier is definitely over him now that he has Cell, who really doesn't understand what he's gotten into. He sealed his fate the second he told Roier in that meeting room that he would get married if he ever left Alcatraz. Now he's going to get married whether he likes it or not.

(Because, contrary to a lot of people's opinions, Cell is not the only one manipulating someone in this relationship. Roier knows what he wants, and he is going to get him, goddamnit!)

[seasonsmusings]

Rules of the (North) Pole

FOLLOWS/FOLLOW-BACKS

At least to start, I’m going to be fairly selective about who I follow/follow-back. However, if I have a clear understanding of your character and/or fandom, chances are I will eventually follow you back.

Even if I don’t follow you right away, please don’t be afraid to interact with me. The more we play together, the more chance there is I will follow you back.

There are several reasons I may end up not following someone. But the biggest one is obsessive posting of NSFW images or gifs. Often I am online at work and well, I just can’t have dicks all over my dash. Sorry.

THREADS/STARTERS/PLOTTING

I’ve tried doing starters for new followers in the past and it just never ended up well. They tend to get repetitive after a while and more often than not are lost on the dash. However, I will respond to any starters I am tagged in.

I am always open to plotting. Always. So if you have an idea (or even 11% of an idea), drop by my askbox and we’ll hash it out.

RESPONSE TIME

I run several other rp blogs (in multiple fandoms), so if I don’t reply right away, chances are I am logged in to one of them. I swear I am not ignoring you. Promise.

If it’s been a week or more, feel free to poke me. That way we know it’s just me being slow and not tumblr eating notices.

MUSE PORTRAYALS

When I first brought Kristin over from LiveJournal, she was housed on her own blog -- as were all the others. Recently, however, I've made to decision to move them all here.

While most of my headcanons concerning "North Pole Workings" are taken from the Santa Clause series, along with Prep and Landing, I really consider these muses an amalgamation of many sources. Most of which have their own verses.

While my default verses for Anna, Noelle, Kris, and Mrs. Claus deal with there just being four Claus siblings, I am most definitely open to rping with others. Bring to me ALL the Claus children!

Also, please do not take anything my babies say IC personally.

SHIPPING

This blog will be multi-verse and multi-ship.

There are, however, a few exceptions to this. The most notable being Mrs. Claus & Anna. Mrs. Claus is single ship with her husband, obvs. As is Anna. She loves Mark and Mark only.

Noelle also has an OTP and that is her and Adam. However, until he puts a ring on it, I may allow a separate verse or two for others ships.

TRIGGERS/NSFW

This blog may contain triggering material. All posts containing such material will be tagged appropriately with anything explicit being placed behind a read more.

ANON HATE

Will not be tolerated. Pure and simple.

[moddymoon]

next you'll say it's racist to oppose slavery because it is a predominantly African trade.

Really? You think that? I guess that you're good at thinking whatever supports your narrative is true, whether there's evidence for it, or not. Because you are quite good at fabricating evidence for your narrative.

> The unlawful use of force, or violence, against either people, or property, to intimidate or coerce a civilian population, or government in furtherance of political or social objectives.

And how exactly does this meet this criteria? What are they doing that meets the criteria of:

to intimidate or coerce a civilian population, or government in furtherance of political or social objectives.

Because I don't see anything you could legitimately *claim* is "intimidate." But I'm *sure* you can justify your rules lawyering here.

And... Since you state that January 6th and Charlottesville wasn't, how *isn't* it, because it *strictly* fits this definition.

As I said before, in the thread you so ignored,

Sorry, I didn't "so ignore" it... I made it *very* clear that I looked at it, and addressed it. You've *not* addressed anything I've said, besides claiming I'm making false statements lacking any evidence on your part.

But hey... You can ignore what I've said... Claim I'm ignoring you. Thus fabricating evidence for your narrative.

calls for intifada is a call for insurrection,

Not actually. It *might* be, but definitionally, it isn't defined as specifically that, which you actually are great at... Finding definitions.

is an Arabic word for a rebellion or uprising,

That isn't "a call for insurrection," is it? I mean... Like since you like definitions so much... Tell me... Does that definition say, "intifada is a call for insurrection?" Because I'm having trouble parsing that literal meaning there. But sure you probably can read it yourself.

River to the Sea is a call to Genocide,

Wow... I don't see, "From the River to the Sea, we will commit Genocide," as the call. But I guess that really must be there, and you *must* have a source for it. Because anyone argues against you, you *claim* to have a source that proves that they are "literally" wrong.

Of course, your definition pushing... Oddly, the thing you're claiming is something... You can't provide *evidence* that it even *is*.

This is not a broad definition of what terrorism is, it is THE definition, you sanctimonious tit.

I said it was a *broad* definition. I didn't say it wasn't the definition. A definition isn't broad because it isn't "the" definition. A definition is broad, because it can be applied to a lot of different things.

I'm not sure how this fits the definition:

Making a show of being morally better than others, especially hypocritically pious.

I don't see myself calling something a broad definition as "making a show of being morally better" in any respect. I don't see that it is hypocritical in any respect. I don't see it as pious in any respect.

But hey... You clearly know better what reality is than I do, and understand definitions better than I do.

waving a foreign flag, let alone a terrorist flag, in the capital of the Nation is also treason.

Let's see... Treason:

The betrayal of allegiance toward one's own country, especially by committing hostile acts against it or aiding its enemies in committing such acts.

How so? Wow... I'm clearly not understanding your argument very well. You're going to have to make it clearer for me.

Also Palestine isn't real,

You know... That's weird. Because if it's not real... Then what is?

Palestine, officially the State of Palestine, is a country in the southern Levant region of West Asia, encompassing the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip, within the larger historic Palestine region.

Not real? I guess... clearly reality is not something I understand...

lost again and again against Israel when they had tried to Genocide them.

I'm glad you understand that Israel is committing genocide. That is very big of you. Though it doesn't fit well with your narrative.

A land mind you, that is governed not by the legitimate government that current sits in exile, but a Terrorist group, one which you and the above terrorists defend.

I'm glad that you also understand that Israel is a terrorist group. They have occupied land illegitimately, committing colonial atrocities. And I love your welcoming of this truth.

Pro-Jordanian Squatters near Congress toppled US flags, burning and replacing them with terrorist flags, vandalizing US monuments with messages such as; “Hamas”, and “Abolish the USA” among others.

These are not protesters, these are terrorists, at least in my books, and should be treated as such.

[faroreswinds]

I hope you see this as a positive ask but I remember you saying you were surprised at mdimileth being popular, and I’m saying this mostly from a JPN perspective…but it really is? And I’m surprised to see others are surprised about it. The common thread between most shippers is that even though they’re both powerful men, one is highly repressed, awkward, but very noble and kind and also very tortured and sad, and the other man is awkward but quiet, repressed but in a different way, and unsure of how to act. It’s very different from what the developers intended I think! We like that they both learn how to act together and how to find their footing. They come together to help the land and fight the empire. One is the Ashen Demon who finds his heart after he meets people he comes to cherish and protect, the other the One Eyed Demon who finds his heart after he almost lost it to despair. A lot of us are also Blue Lions fans so I don’t know where this accusation comes from that says we exclude the rest of the lions for Byleth (my second pair is sylvix and my third is Mercedes with Dedue).

I had to look up English fan dictionaries for this but it’s also because one is big but kind but also repressed and he can tame a man who was scary and feared for being a demon but if you think about it, he’s actually submissive and breedable and almost like a twink. You can call me a fujoshi, but apparently that’s a bad word here? I’m not sure. I think another way to describe what we like is if you take Beauty and the Beast but apply it straight and reversed to both men at the same time. I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself! I hope this explains our tastes well enough!

I hope you see this as a positive ask but I remember you saying you were surprised at mdimileth being popular, and I’m saying this mostly from a JPN perspective…but it really is?

I can't speak for others but... It sort of is to me. It's not a surprise that the ship exists, but I guess I'm surprised it's popular? Most shipping I've seen with Dimitri is with Femyleth since that's actually possible in the game, and Dimitri's other popular male ships are just with others, like Felix. I guess I always felt that the Male Byleth ship is simply just lost in the wave of others ships, especially since it's not possible to obtain. Say what you will about Dimitri's ending with Felix, it's still a possible ending one can achieve, while if you play with Manyleth then you are locked out with any ending with Dimitri entirely.

Don't get me wrong- I love Dimitri with Manyleth. I view Dimitri as a queer man, even if it's not intentional. I am not someone who just stamps queer onto any character I like either, I need either text or subtext to back this up. Without it, it just feels like I'm lying to myself. And since I feel Dimitri has adequate subtext, I feel that he should have been a male option for Manyleth and it doesn't make much sense that he isn't. Dimitri is pretty cute with Byleth period, and treats Byleth the same no matter what gender you choose. It would be odd to me that it only becomes romantic if it's a woman he talks to, when he's literally saying the exact same thing to the male one as well.

You can call me a fujoshi, but apparently that’s a bad word here?

I'm not sure where "here" is. Japan? Western fandoms? Well, in the West, it's not really a negative word. But I think most fujoshi's keep their tastes close to their chests. There is definitely a stigma against them, that they fetishize men and are unable to view male friendships without instantly shipping them. Which is so funny to me personally- I am asexual, but I love romantic stories about two men. I don't even care about the sex, I find something appealing about a two men being vulnerable to each other in a way that my culture is only recently opening itself up to.

I also find it funny because literally just the other day, I was chatting with a friend of mine and made a joke that Durin and Elrond from that terrible Rings of Power show seem more like an old married couple than the actual romantic pairings in the show at the moment. I don't actually ship them and honestly there isn't much subtext there, it's just the writing is so bad that they are the rare-pair actual interesting group of characters. My much older friend, who is NOT a fujoshi in any capacity at all, then made a comment how Sam and Frodo should have just kissed. She's clearly not fetishizing them at all, and is 100% capable of viewing male friendships as just friendships. Yet, she felt that Sam and Frodo were maybe a little more than friends, if you catch my meaning.

Sometimes, a chemistry is there, whether the writers intended it or not.

Anyways, point is- While I don't think fujoshi's are viewed negatively (especially since the West has been more and more open to queer relationships), it's still a private thing unless done over a blog where you can be faceless. That's my own experience though. Most of my friends in rl don't know I like mlm ships, save for two friends who are the same way. But in this regard, I tend to live in a bubble, so maybe someone else could educate me if I'm wrong.

There are definitely spaces where fujoshi are made fun of and ridiculed (like 4chan) but I don't even think most Western fans even know the term. It's becoming pretty common place to have queer ships just in general, especially in fandom spaces...

I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself! I hope this explains our tastes well enough!

Don't apologize! My tastes are not much different than yours and I get the appeal.

It's just that since Manlyeth/Dimitri is not possible, I just figured it wasn't popular in Japan all that much. I was sure it had a following, but not a HUGE following, if you get my meaning. Especially since Femyleth seems disproportionally more popular just... in general.

[jennifersminds]

hey libra! (it's libra right??) i already loved your elejah abortion fic but now that i've watched s4 and have context of the whole Cure nonsense that everyone was fighting over... like it's an even better fic now you did such a good job <3

if i didn't know better and expected anything from the vd writers i'd actually have thought the cure was just a metaphor for abortion and elena & rebekah's struggles was the metaphor for abortion rights lol. either way s4 is actually so chillingly relevant to 2022 society because it was literally so many episodes of just women being constantly stripped of agency and denied a choice by male characters :/ like at least elijah's motivations were pure even tho i disliked that he got to make the decision for a grown woman and "test" her... and klaus would have been genuinely inconvenienced by silas's manipulation and abuse if rebekah had been given the cure so i guess that's like, semi okay? (but also he was always selfish and mean when it came to rebekah regardless of whether he experienced harm to his well being or not)... and the salvatores were just awful lol like that torture ep made me so uncomfortable especially how elena seemed fine after having just experienced hours of abuse from her exboyfriends

anyways sorry for word vomiting but i love your writing and keep up the good work!

I adore word vomit thank you, allow me to spew my own lmao

(my names Charlotte btw, libra's my star sign but it was the first thing in my bio for ages so it's an easy mistake to make x)

My animosity towards the cure is unmatched, not just because I hate it as a concept and everything it turned the characters into but also because, like that fuckin little AI mf from t100 it refused to exit the show with any grace.

I'm currently working on storyboarding more of what did you bury? (my love letter to no humanity Elena + American Gothic) and there’s just so much wrong with s4 it’s honestly hard to know where to begin. The torture episode is horrifying for so many reasons but it also provides one of the most interesting and heartbreaking looks into Elena’s psych because it lets us actually see her rage at the Salvatore’s and honestly might be the last sighting of in- character Elena Gilbert we ever get.   

Like people can disagree if they want but as far as I’m concerned anything an emotionless vampire says is the truth (at least their truth) they have no humanity, no care and no reason to lie. This is especially true for Elena in the torture ep, and it’s awful. 

Plus what it reveals for the salv bros, both of them use this torture as an outlet for the frustration Elena’s caused them since she was forced- by them- to turn off her humanity (I mean, we been knew they were abusive but this is definitely the most outright moment). Also like- Caroline, Bonnie, Matt are just... fine with this. Like yeah Caroline leaves because she doesn’t wanna hear it but no one makes any move to stop it or question if this is really the way to go. (Bonnie get’s a pass here bc she’s being mind controlled and Elena ripped her throat open but- everyone else...)

The actual scene of her turning it back in is genuinely the most upsetting in the show to me. It’s like every subtle manipulation and mistreatment from the first four seasons turned up to 11 and its disgusting. Just seeing her, this fuckin eighteen year old girl that has lost everything, lose the last remaining thread to her childhood, to her life before the salvatores arrived. And the way she just shatters while they watch- this moment that’s horrifying and awful and they won’t ever let her go and she knows this and it means nothing to them. It’s just a tactic, something she’ll get over because she has no choice but too.

I hate it. (this hate being what made me write plastic crown in the first place lmao)

But yeah the whole things gross and this didn’t really build off your point even though I completely agree. 

As for the Elijah/Rebekah/Klaus aspect, I do find the test situation to be more about Elijah insuring Rebekah is actually prepared for what taking the cure would mean. Still a bit icky and codependent but it’s the Mikaelsons so I don’t expect much else. I do love the energy of 

Klaus: I’m being tormented !! Elijah: Sounds like a you problem bestie, I need to pose and go daydream of making out with emotionless doppelgängers ttyl xx

like yess king, give us (the plot) nothing !

[nextinline-if]

hiiii <3

i played the demo just now, and i gotta say i loved it! i was so pleasantly surprised to see separate choices for gender and pronouns in character customisation - it's something I sadly don't see that often even in very inclusive IFs and it's also something that's making my whole experience a fair bit more comfortable. i identify as nb but i prefer she/her pronouns, even if pretty much any and every pronouns are ok for me - so i really wanted to say i appreciate that little detail!

i also liked the harbinger's oath - it's very cool how it stresses the importance of leadership and making a way when there is none, and not just, you know, staying faithful and loyal and stuff. the overall style, fashion and atmosphere are all very nice, the mix of ancient greek and victorian and original ideas is both familiar and new so it's hard to get bored!

oh, i loved the gods too. there isn't so many that either the author or the reader can get lost trying to untangle the threads of mythology, and you don't risk any of them being forgotten or becoming less prominent - it's nice! i loved the myths we've seen, the twins are charming! i thought I'd like to follow aurora since i usually go for sun aesthetic, but in this case i didn't really vibe with her. maybe it's because the 2 myths were mostly about euribia or at least her side of the story, so i just don't have enough info. so, here's hoping for some more mythology lessons in the future! ah, i also liked that fertility and love and marriage belong to different gods domains.

james and anna are dears, gotta tease them to marriage and (hopefully not) back :3

the ROs are... prominent, i guess? at this point i don't feel like the pc knows enough about them to see them for what they are, and i mostly used what i read from your blog to choose between them and orient myself. tbh I didn't quite like most of the flirting options (though it can be the case that I'm just picky lmao, don't take it to heart). i think i liked what you did with constantine - that some options aren't marked as flirting or anything but... they get a reaction from him, and in return the pc also reacts somehow. dialogues with him also feel less "cheap" - unlike some of the scenes where the so called flirting is just ogling or blushing and tripping over your words because of someone calling you lovely or something. constantine's scene also have this stuff but... to less extant? i think? i know it's some kind of imaginary world, but it's still hard for me to comprehend how a literal royal, a year before becoming the monarch, minutes after thinking "everyone is judging me i must be perfect" now goes around and makes a fool of themselves... but i still want to flirt! ugh! such dilemma! i loved margaret's first flirting option though - the one where pc asks anna to bring her another glass, now that was fun.

the "cold" options of dealing with f. were very nice too, i really enjoyed the balcony scene in the prologue!

anyway, sorry for ranting, and thank you for sharing the demo with us! wish you the smoothest progress and good inspiration and much free time to write! good luck 🍀💙

i was so pleasantly surprised to see separate choices for gender and pronouns in character customisation - it's something I sadly don't see that often even in very inclusive IFs and it's also something that's making my whole experience a fair bit more comfortable.

I'm so glad to hear this! I've found that it's really not much extra work on the coding side so I didn't think there was a reason not to add it.

the mix of ancient greek and victorian and original ideas is both familiar and new so it's hard to get bored!

yay! the last thing I want is for anyone to get bored playing my game aha I know it's a bit different and some people like things more traditional.

here's hoping for some more mythology lessons in the future!

there will definitely be additional myths.

the ROs are... prominent, i guess? at this point i don't feel like the pc knows enough about them to see them for what they are

The current demo is only a taste but the MC will be able to learn more as the story progresses and build friendship or romance as wanted. There are no straight "routes", as all characters have their own role to play in this story. I hope you will enjoy learning more about them. The rest of the chapters cover around a month of events each.

tbh I didn't quite like most of the flirting options (though it can be the case that I'm just picky lmao, don't take it to heart).

No worries, the flirting is something I added more shy options for because when I first released the demo, the feedback I received was that there weren't enough of those options. Also, flirting is the hardest for me to write about. But, my hope is that it will more natural and worthwhile in the rest of the game. :D

I may consider revamping the flirting that is available now but only after I get chapter 2 released.

Thanks for your feedback and thoughts! It sounds like you enjoyed it overall. I appreciate you giving it a go. I'm always open to feedback, whether I'm able to implement or change things depends but I'm eager to learn where I can improve.

Hope you have a great day!

Discord | itch.io | Ko-fi | Tag List | 1K Giveaway Rules + Entry

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

[lilacerull0]

hey! I'm the same anon of the soul question. I'm not trying to convince you or anything (and I know that if I start by saying this it looks like I am actually trying to do it but please, believe me, I don't! I'm just curious) but across the years there were many things that didn't have proof of their existence but still did exist. and now we have proof of it because we studied them, we researched.

sooo basically this turned the discussion from the soul topic to the limits of our knowledge one but... what I mean is. everything can be studied, I think that not setting up limits to knowledge is what distinguishes a genius from the rest. I am not saying this to say that your reason doesn't make sense of something like that, btw!! I just think that everything could be the topic of studying. and your blog sparks so much emotion that for some reason, it's strange to know you don't believe in souls. I think I may link you to the concept of soulmates a lot, since I was quite surprised by this information ahaha

ps. also. there are many definitions of what a soul could be before even questioning if it exists or not. I think I have lost the thread of this discussion and I did this by myself in your ask box, I'm so sorry. I just talk a little too much, and I've been trying to write a sort of essay on this topic since last year, so I enjoy talking about this kind of stuff way too much, I recognize it. I hope it didn't bother you!!

Oh I'm not bothered at all, this is what my blog is for!!!!! You see that's what bugs me about souls: there are so many discussions about what a soul could be, not what it is. And above all, I can't start solving a puzzle that I won't ever be able to solve. Not entirely. I use the term soulmate as something a little bit different? I don't think things happen for a reason, I think people make them make sense and by that give them reason. I think it's all about what we do. It's that concept of soulmates being made. That's what I believe in. When two people meet they are just two people making a connection, there's no string connecting them before they decide to tie it between them. Because most of all, I believe in choice. So when I obsess over platonic soulmates excellence or "invisible stringing", what I mean is: I met you and understood you and you met me and understood me and we got here in spite of the cruelties of the world and we chose each other. It's about choice. That's what I meant when I said how I believe in souls as a metaphor. When I say soulmates, I mean companionship and understanding. I mean all these little things that make somebody similar to someone else, not because some unknown force made them that way, but because they influenced each other by sharing thoughts, ideas and experiences.

I know about the pre-existence theory, I know these things technically can be studied, but... that's the kind of studying that just couldn't satisfy me as a person. The very idea behind souls is that they're non-material. What substance are they made of then? If they exist they have to be made of something. Simple negation of a statement, in this case "souls don't exist", isn't enlightening. It's just a statement. There isn't any weight to it. Believing in souls would require me to believe that there's mental activity that's entirely disconnected from the brain which is something I'm willing to believe in only if there's a (even a mere!) possibility of it being true. (trust me, if I had even a little something to work with here, I'd be on it, obsessing and travelling to soul-sights) It's too big of a thing just to be simply accepted without any kind of specific element, any specific knowledge, just a tiny little clue from an external source. I'm willing to learn, I'm just not willing to accept something as the truth without any confirmation or a clue as to why it should be true. "I think not setting up limits to the knowledge is what separates genius from the rest" I agree! But isn't the very concept of souls something that's supposed to be believed in, not studied or ever fully understood? A soul shouldn't be confused with the mind. Because you can believe in something that goes beyond the mind without necessarily calling it a soul. You can think there's something more to being human than just brain chemicals without believing in souls. I don't think souls are real. But do you know what I do know is real? People believing in them. That's real. And it's exactly the believing part that's the most valuable to people. Proving the nature of souls, no matter the outcome, would take the believing part away from people. And then they'd find something else to believe in without any proof. That's what I meant when I said: souls are something people made up to feel better about being human. There's no material reason for that concept to exist, no initial observation that sparked that thought. There's only people needing to believe in something bigger than they are, that there's something more to life. I think life is not as little or unimportant tho. I think life is what you make of it. I think living and being here is important. And all these interesting things waiting to be discovered and understood!!!!! Right here! I don't need to believe in souls, in something that's gonna outlive me and has already outlived me before I was born. Maybe it's just that it takes a certain amount of control away from me. But I genuinely think living this one life and being here just this one time and making whatever I want of that is far more meaningful.

[kouhaiofcolor]

So I've just gotta say the amount of black men & white women who are disturbingly public on tumblr ab their blatant fetishes for each other under even more blatantly fetishistic tags here is so beyond sad. There are even trans white women under the same tags openly professing how aDDiCtEd they are to being used, abused, bLaCkED (for a number of years lmao; they're actually keeping track) &, dear God, "owned & mastered" by black men & i just. Some things I've come across these white girls are literally glorifying slavery (ofc always in very specific context as the "property" of a black man); calling their obsession w having sex w them being an adequate repentance for the atrocities their ancestors committed 🥴 i can't make this up.

#no white boys?? #bbconly? #qos?? #snow bunnies?

....Its that serious for yall? This is what "kink" is now? How did we get here? How did yall get here? Yall going & getting tattoos — basically paying(?) to be wilfully branded — behind these "passions"? You niggas out here actually condoning & relishing in white women using you & casually exploiting it for the vast ass internet? In the exact same way white women was easily doing yall & having you lynched by their men afterward for before the internet??🤔 Yall are literally comfortable w them tagging yall as black c*ck & n*ggers for their psychological & physical satisfaction geared toward epitomizing white femininity, white supremacy, & black men's easy subservience to those things?

...and then y'all wonder why ppl assume black man × white woman relationships (& the children produced thru them) are fetish/colorist/misogynoir oriented before anyone assumes its a natural, unbiased coupling based on the truest, most innocent love, my god.

Even had the nerve to lash out on twitter at black women — who hadn't said a damn thing btw — when that infamous groupchat among them white girls on snapchat was leaked ab how they can piss in your mouths after sex @ass o'clock in the morning & you'll still uphold them as huwight queens. These women done opened up in regular degular as well as celebrity spaces ab how they don't wash they ass..... & yall out here identifying as mandingos for em anyway. The damndest shame.

Good lord the way yall come at black women for being w anyone non black tho smdh. For being w men who actually respect & give a damn ab them, at that — w zero fetishes attached lol! Who are you niggas to ride for anymore fr? What standards do yall really have for even yourselves? Sometimes it's just beyond describing as embarrassing. Some of yall have some truly mortifying prejudices, "preferences", mindsets, allat. Yall definitely hold us back as a community fr, im sorry.

Some big name industry needs to exploit yall for this too, & i hope it's sooner rather than later. Documentary-style on an international level, bc yall are reproducing w these women on this sad ass shit too & defending it in the name of iNtErrAcIaL lOvE (while, again, irrationally heckling black women for being w nbmoc or white men in their own interracial relationships). Absolutely humiliating. We know white women ain't shit but for yall to follow up behind & fully endorse their toxicity & abuse of yourselves & your culture...... dassa special depth of the sunken place fr. On God, you niggas lost & irretrievable. Making sure I use you weirdos' tags for this too cus it needs to be said. All the kink communities, threads, forums & websites online yet yall be determined to be problematic in public spaces.

[eveenstar]

𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 [𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒇𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭||

Tags/Warnings: Possible amnesia, insomnia and a brief panick attack mentions.

Summary: You wake up back in your bed, with no idea how you got there in the first place. With a foggy mind, you notice that strange things are happening around your house.

Note: Honestly, I've been so excited to write this series. It's going a bit slow in the beginning but I promise from chapter 3 things will began to get serious! Can you guess what is happening in (Y/N)'s home?

Loki knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, his eyes focused on yours and you felt everything stop around you two.

"Marry me, (Y/N), " Loki said softly, grabbing your hand on his. "You'll never have to be alone,"

You smiled, you smiled as if you didn't remember this never happened. Tears covered your vision but it really wasn't tears, you weren't crying, but everything slowly began to get blurry. You felt yourself fall, as if your own soul left your body and fell into abism. Loki's voice echoed in your mind.

"I love you and that's all I really know."

You woke up in a harsh gasp, hands sweaty. You were met again with a cold house, now dark due to how late in the night it should be. Not even threads of light escaped through the blinds, nor you could recognize where anything in your bedroom should be.

Turning on the bedside lamp, you pushed yourself from the king-size bed and grabbed your forest green robe and dressed it, glad that at least it's somewhat warm.

Wasn't it blue?

The bedside alarm clock read exactly 3:30 AM, and you felt a sudden deja vu. Lately, you've been awaking up at this exact hour of the night, for no other reason than strange dreams.

You decided that a nice cup of milk would suit this situation, as you recalled that your mother used to say that "milk helps the sleep" and even though you doubted that affirmation of hers, anything now would feel better if it meant to help you close your eyes and drift off to another world. Your feet felt cold against the floor tiles, and again you forgot to wear socks (even though you were sure you wore them the day before, for one reason you know couldn't think why).

As you poured the milk down on your plain white mug, it finally accured to you. Yesterday's call with Natasha and the drive trip to the Avengers Tower. You ran a hand through your hair and frowned slightly, everything afterwards felt like a distant memory. Foggy and confusing. How did you end up in your house, in your bed? How did you forget? Probably from the lack of sleep you've been getting lately.

Maybe you should call Natasha.

Ignoring how late it was, you pulled out your phone and noticed it was dead. Sighing to yourself, you put it to charge while you left to explore your house and re-make the steps you probably took when you got home the day before.

Your clothes were all messed up in a chair, your shoes looked like somebody threw them across the room and didn't bother to get them, otherwise everything else looked in place. You paced back and forth, getting a bit impacient at your lack of remembering such things.

The flowers.

The Narcissus flowers.

Where are them?

You grabbed the empty flower vase, which used to be filled every week with beautiful flowers picked from your personal garden. The house withhold a tense atmosphere, heavy as the rain that falls from the dark clouds. The pale-coloured brightness that the kitchen's lamp provided a ball of light around you, like a little angel was protecting you against the darkness and you hoped it not to go away.

Your body was frozen in place, you didn't even realize you weren't breathing until a hrash exhale left your lungs and the flower vase fell from your shaking hands, into the mosaic floor.

You ran to your bedroom as if a big, bad monster was chasing you and quickly closed the door. You blocked it with a chair and turned on your phone, which was fortunately (and the luckiest you've been in a good while, most likely) charged enough to call someone.

"(Y/N)? It's 4 am, are you okay?"

"Something is wrong, Natasha, I, I can't remember anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Can you please come by my house?" You heard her grab something, "Please..." you whispered.

..."And that's when I called Natasha." You finished explaining and took a drink out of the cup of water Steve gave you.

"How long has this been happening?" He asked, a worried look on his blue eyes. Natasha, who was sitting next to him, carried the same look.

"Few days, weeks I suppose." You looked in between both of them, and guilt took over you. "I'm sorry, it's silly."

"Hey, don't say that. It's completely normal." Nat caressed your arm sweetly. It felt good to see her again, even though it was only yesterday when you two met. She looked exactly the same as three years ago, but she had a different aura around her. Sadder, darker. Steve had it too.

"Hey, (Y/N), it may not be the best time but...There's a therapy group I know, and maybe it would be good if you take a look at it." Steve suggested, his arms crossed and a deep look upon you.

You gazed to the ground again, "I'll think about it."

"I just think something's weird here, " Natasha said, "You never ordered Narcissus flowers to your home."

If this was another situation, you'd laugh at it. But Natasha was serious, and you knew it. The Narcissus flowers don't grow in your garden, and you followed a specific order of plants to buy every week, and they weren't in the list. They never were. Not after Loki's death.

"I probably ordered them by mistake." Play it off. Act cool. It's nothing, it has to be just a simple mistake. You got confused and ordered them instead.

"If you feel safer, we can get somebody to protect your house. Just for good measure." Steve took the mugs and cups to the sink, and didn't miss the chance to give another helpful advice like the good friend he is. You pondered on it for a while, and you could enjoy the company.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." Natasha, who was staring at you again, opened her mouth to say anything but you got ahead of her first, "Well, thanks for coming but I need to get a couple of hours of sleep. Sorry for bothering you guys."

"You would never."

You walked them to the front door, and Natasha pulled you in a surprise hug. You didn't even know how to react. It's been so long since you've had human touch.

She pulled back, and you swore you saw a tear in the corner of her eyes. Those tears that come at the most unfortunate moments, where you can't most definitely break down. Natasha hid them well, not from you, because you too know that trick. Never break down, never show weakness to anyone or anything. The woman gave you a calm (but you knew the pain behind it) smile.

"Call us if you need anything else, okay?"

You nodded and replied with a vague smile back.

The hours passed, passed and passed. The clouds in the sky were as heavy as your soul felt, and soon they began to cry out. The rain slammed against your windows and warned about an upcoming thunderstorm was on its way. Spring felt more as a Winter 2.0 and in the blink of an eye, it was eight o'clock.

According to one of Natasha's texts, a security guard would arrive at ten AM. Until then, you prepared a nice breakfast for you (and for the guard, you wanted to be as kind as possible). Thanks to Steve, who brought enough food to last for at least a few days, you didn't have to worry about starving now.

You, relaxed for once in a lifetime, made your way to the couch to hopefully watch some pre-recorded tvshows. You were too lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice how in all framed pictures of yourself, your face was blurred out.

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

01 - You’re Familiar

This chapters songs:

Daughter Of A Cop; TV Girl

I Hope To Be Around; Men I Trust

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi; Radiohead

—

— Y. L. Perspective

My breath got louder and louder each second I ran. With my bento box hitting my hips, bag tossing around, and my skirt flying up, there was no way things could get any worse.

But luckily just around the corner, I spotted students climbing onto it, which made my feet run even faster.

Near late on my first day? Damn, Y/n, way to start your year.

   Just then, I heard the sharp hiss of the engine, sending me faster towards the vehicle than I had been pacing myself before. But still, the driver was ignorant, obviously not caring how much I needed this. It wasn't like my parents would take me anyways.

"WAIT..! PLEASE WAIT!" I started on the side of the bus, running side to side with the wheels. After a few seconds of loud disruption, it finally stopped. The break was hard, and students inside were heard making remarks of protest.

Sure, I felt bad for the people who had to get a brake check, but I on the other hand was completely out of breath and near dead. Couldn't they spare me?

"I'm, I'm so.. I'm so sorry I.." My breath is short, and loud while I breathe in and out, trying my best to try and explain my tardiness to the driver. He simply sighs, gesturing for me to seat myself already.

While I stumbled down the aisle, I received a few weird glances from fellow students. Some familiar and some new. I couldn't tell if it was because of my reputation, or because I looked like a hot mess. Either way, it was too early in the morning for one to give a damn. And so, I seat myself next to another student, finally resting from the marathon I had just run.

I sighed, rolling my head back, and placed my fingers on my temples. 'I probably look like a mess right now.' I thought, letting out a huge sigh. Once I sat my fingers back down onto my lap, I observed more of the people I was surrounded by.

Some third years I was familiar with, a few that wouldn't dare speak to me, and some that were strangers. Other second and first years I didn't know at all; throughout high school, I thought it'd be best to stay hidden and introverted, especially if I were to become popular in the music industry. Lots of young stars still went to school, and usually got dirt easily thrown onto their title and that's exactly what I would avoid this year.

Bringing me back to reality, I capture a peek coming from the boy I was seated next to. He had fluffy gray hair and seemed just as tired as me. But the bus was so dark, I couldn't completely make out his features.

"Something wrong?" I said to him.

He jumped a little, adjusting his eyes back down to his phone. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I just- I think I know you from somewhere."

"Lots of people know me, buddy—" I lifted my head, facing him. 'Hey, this guy does pretty familiar. But there's no way I'd forget a face like his. Then again, I have the memory of an 80-year-old woman.' I think to myself, examining his features in an awkward mood.

"Wow, it is you. (Y/n), it's been quite a while!" He smiled widely, reaching a hand out to me. I only froze, too confused to comprehend the situation. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you're doing well!"

"I-Im sorry?" I question, wondering why a stranger would confront me this way. But something was off— I knew him, I just couldn't remember where from. Maybe from previous classes, or from a concert?

He turns slightly, growing a smile on his pale face. "I was trying to figure out if it was you or not, but it is! It's great to see you're better. How are you?"

"Who are you?" I ask back, a bit frightened.

"Uhm, well, I sat next to you in math class during my first year. Remember? I was a little ditzy, kind of annoying, I never shut up about volleyball..?" He asks, hoping to get a hint of nostalgia. "Come on, you've gotta recognize me, right?"

"Wait, Sugawara!" My finger jumps out, pointing to his sitting figure. "I'm sorry I couldn't recognize you! It sure has been quite a while. But I definitely remember you, now! You were one of the people who talked to me during my first year.. thanks for that. Anyways, how've you been?"

"I think that's my line, L/n." Suga pats my shoulder, then places his hand onto his lap. "You've changed so much! I've gotta know how you're doing!"

"I-I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing in your perspective, but thanks anyway. I've been doing just fine." I explain before a yawn escapes my mouth. Sure, this conversation was energetic, but I certainly wasn't.

"Again, so very sorry for being so forgetful. I don't remember much from first year, especially not anything in math, but I sure do recognize you now." I say, hoping my rudeness from before wouldn't have any effect on how he viewed me. Not that I cared, of course.

Luckily, Sugawara was forgiving that day. With a wide grin, he replies, "No need to apologize. People change drastically during high school; we're no exceptions. Although, I would've enjoyed being mutuals with you throughout most of it! I wonder why I haven't seen you around until today... I believe the last time we had talked was around the last day of first year."

"Yeah, we didn't have any classes together. If we had, I'm sure we would have stirred up a discussion. You seem very kind. " I gently smile, rubbing the nape of my neck. I tend to forget any bad memories, and the beginning of high school sure was a fat one.

"What a shame, you too seem wonderful.." He comments, gazing towards me for a split second, before reverting his focus. "A-anyways, it's a bit of a surprise I saw you here. Have you always ridden the bus? I usually take it in the mornings as well."

"I've actually just moved into this neighborhood. My parents work more hours than ever, so they decided it's best if I'm closer to school so that I can get to school and back quickly." I explain, tapping the sage green bento in my lap, before setting it on my side.

Sugawara nods, understanding the circumstances. "That makes sense. I'm sure you'll enjoy it now that you've got a friend in the neighborhood. Although, a girl like you must be quite familiar, right?"

'Is that intended to be disrespectful, or am I just tripping?' I think to myself, asking him to spell out the meaning of that remark. "I'm sorry, what? A girl like me?"

"Oh, crap! I didn't mean that to sound rude— I meant because of your band! I understand you guys are the talk around school, considering you're getting pretty popular in the field."

A sigh of relief leaves my lips, preparatory to my correction. "Oh, my band. I'm not sure I necessarily make friends, more like connections and acquaintances. Only a couple of students know about the band, and usually just the down-low ones. But enough about me, what about you, hm? I assume still volleyball obsessed."

I had obviously steered in the wrong direction with our conversation, for Suga's aura quickly altered at the mention of the sport. "Eh, I'm not as excited about it as I used to be." He says, along with a hint of dissatisfaction in his raspy voice.

"No way. What happened to cheerful Sugawara who asked me, the lamest, to join the girls' team?" I ask, hoping a bit of that childish personality was still inside the older version of Suga. The one which was taller, more masculine, more of a man than before.

"Honestly, can't tell you. 'Teams has been a mess ever since I've joined." He leans back in his seat, stretching his arms out, before placing them around his neck from behind. "We're hanging on my a very thin thread."

"Dang, that really sucks. You never know, things can always turn out better." I say, doing as he did, and resting against the leather seats.

"Yeah, of course. I guess it's pretty hard to keep going after so many fails, haha." A sad chuckle leaves his mouth, as he sighs.

"Anyway, nice talking. I'm outta take a quick power nap; I barely got sleep last night. Mind waking me up when we get to school?"

"Yeah, of course," Sugawara replies. With that, I'm left with laying music in my ears like always, and nodded off to slumber.

—

"Hey, sleepyhead. We're at school," I hear someone say, feeling a tap of a cold finger on my nose. Almost immediately, I shoot up from my position, standing directly above Sugawara while students leave the bus with their bags, having loud discussions of excitement. Was there anything more embarrassing than falling asleep on someone who ghosted you as a friend?

"Dear God, I'm terribly sorry." I panic, brushing down my blue skirt. "That happens on rides, it was a mistake."

"Oh, it's no big deal! Don't worry—" Suga chuckles, standing up from sitting. But before I could let him talk anymore, I started making my way towards the exit of the bus.

"Uhm, I've gotta go! Great talking, though. I'll catch you later, have a good day," I mumble, before frantically leaving the vehicle. 'What a morning.'

— K. S. Perspective

Before I could grant Y/n a polite goodbye, she'd disappeared in just a few seconds. But even so, the measly to,e I'd discussed with her was quite enjoyable. I couldn't believe how much she'd changed.

Long ago, the beginning of high school, Y/n was the type of girl you could barely see, as if she were invisible. I think the only reason I ever even noticed her was because we were seated next to each other in math class, and she immediately caught my attention. But thank goodness I had at least tried making an effort to talk to her, or else we wouldn't have had our conversation this morning. But it wasn't her fault she was so gloomy; supposedly she had lost someone close to her the year before.

Although our talk was brief, it still meant a lot to me. Especially since I was informed that she was finally happy. Looking down at the seat she used, there was a small box with a handle at the top, and a few anime stickers covering it.

'Is this what was making that loud tapping noise on the way here?' I asked myself, examining the box more. Small initials marked 'Y.L.' We're at the bottom, informing me it was Y/n's. At first, I considered handing it to our bus driver, but for the few years I've known him I learned he doesn't return lost things. And so, I leave the bus with it in my hands, ready to start my morning.

"Suga!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. Looking up, I see my friend, Daichi, and another fellow behind him, Tanaka. The two of them jog towards me, with their scarfs unfolding in the wind. Both I had met in volleyball, and they've been my buddies ever since.

"Hey, Sugawara!" Tanaka exclaims, roughly slapping my back. The bento tosses in my hands, thankfully not spilling onto the floor. Unfortunately, he notices the box and snatches it right out of my hold. "Wow, feeling a bit girly, are we?"

I laugh in response, quickly taking it back. "It's not mine, it belongs to the person who sat next to me today. Hopefully, if I see her again I can give return it."

"Hopefully?" Daichi teases, as we all begin our walk towards the school doors. "Do you know her name?"

"Yeah, her name's Y/n. Know her?"

He lights up at the mention of their name, replying "Oh, I know her! That girl you never shut up about I in first year, correct?"

"Ha, yeah."

Tanaka doesn't understand, digging deeper into the situation. "What?! I've never known good ole' Suga to genuinely have feelings for a girl, unless it was some fling."

"I don't! I used to. There's a difference." I say, as we enter the building.

"If she rides your bus, then why don't you just give it to the driver? She'll probably go looking for it later at the end of the day. That is unless you wanna see her again.." Daichi teases me.

"You see, I would. But the bus driver is sort of a thief, and this girl has had a rough morning as it is. I just wanna be nice." I explain to him. Though a part of me did want to see her again and hope that we could talk longer than we did before.

"Sure you do," Tanaka says, patting our backs. "Listen, this is my stop. I'll catch you guys at practice?"

"Sure thing, bye." We say our farewells, and make our way towards the third-year halls. "What about you, Daichi? Got anything exciting happening this hour?"

"If stressing about volleyball counts, then yes! Most definitely.." He says, clearing his throat. "Watch, like, two people show up."

"Actually, Kiyoko informed us in the group chat that we've got at least four! That's better than last year, right?" I try my best to cheer him up, but it only made him even more nervous. I couldn't blame him. Too much was even more of a burden, but too little was a disappointment and would leave us exactly where we left off.

"It's okay, Suga. I have a lot of faith in our team. I know it's been rough lately, but as long as we try our best, we'll work this out." Daichi smiles, turning towards a separate hallway than mine. "I'm off to homeroom. See you later!"

"Yeah, see ya!" I'm left by myself, giving me more time to focus on what should happen today. - 1st, I have to go through each class and say hi to a couple of familiars, and hopefully not see anyone I've had a conflict with.

- 2nd, I had to give Y/ns bento back to them, but that could only happen if we happened to have a class with each other before, or if we had the same lunch.

- 3rd, volleyball tryouts were this afternoon. I had to make sure and represent myself as a role model, and make it clear I was vice-captain. I wanted nothing more than for the new players to feel safe.

But internally, I knew none of those plans would work out. Especially if I wasn't focused on them. Currently, all I could think about was Y/n, and how refreshing it felt to be around her again. When I was first around her was at the same time when things in my life started to fall apart, and my little crush on her made me feel better about it all. I guess you could say she was my comfort corner, even if she talked to me only once or twice during the week. And sometimes on her bad days, I would be able to at least get a laugh out of her, even if it meant making a complete fool out of myself.

All I wanted was for her not to harm herself or feel lonely, which took a quick turn towards me once the year had ended. Not only had my thing for her end, but my family soon fell apart after my mother had passed away. Of course, I still had my responsibilities like volleyball club and helping my younger sister and my father get through it. But it seemed that everyone would do their own thing, so I did the same. And for a while, I was lonely and didn't cope with the loss very well. Just like Y/n, I distanced myself.

This went on throughout my entire second year of high school, while she on the other hand started to get her life together. She started her band, made and covered a couple of songs, and finally healed from her hard year. Honestly, I didn't even really believe that she was in such a good state, but I was proven wrong today. Ultimately, she truly inspired me to pick myself up and start fresh. And now that she popped up so suddenly, I was back to square one.

'It's been a while, Y/n'

—

HEYYY SHAWTYYYS.

Give me notes.

SO, I've finally rewritten the first chapter of my fanfiction!! It took a while, but I did it. If you didn't know, I started this story about eight months ago, and I had no writing experience. Now that I'm reaching the climax of this story, I decided I should edit the chapter, especially since they sucked ass! Nothing much was changed, just far more detailing and extra feelings.

Overall, thanks so much for reading the first chapter. Please vote if you enjoyed it!! It helps others know that it's worth reading. And if not, no worries. Thanks anyways. I love you all so much!

- your friendly Suga simp

[sophi-s]

Day 29 #Grief

Whoops. I actually ended up writing a short piece for this one as well and uh... I think I accidentally created a new ship... :O

To Mourn Together

By: sophi-s (me)

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Words: 1 961

Warnings: None

Characters: Uriel, Nathaniel, Abaddon (mentioned)

_________________________________________

With utmost certainty, one could say it was one of the brightest nights in the White City. Of course, with the buildings in the color of gilded snow, every night seemed bright. But that one particular night the full moon spilled its cold, silver light all over the angelic city, bathing it in a pale glow that reflected in the smooth surfaces and illuminated the warm darkness as the gentle gusts of wind blew through the quiet and empty plaza.

Aside from the sentries patrolling the streets, all of the Heaven's denizens were long asleep in their homes. All of them.

Except for one.

A figure of a lonely angel threads lightly through the city, grand white wings folded neatly at his sides, just like his hands behind his back. His golden battle armor is discarded in favor of a simple set of clothes. There's nothing threatening him after all. Lost in thought, he doesn't acknowledge guards greeting him as he passes by. He walks seemingly without purpose, reconsidering the not so recent events.

Your friend serves the Shadow.

The Archon? Corrupted?!

Impossible!

Leave me, Horseman. I must think of what to do now…

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. One hundred years. It's been over one hundred years since all of this happened. And yet, all this felt far too fresh in his head. As though it happened merely yesterday. Sweeping his gaze over his surroundings, he realised he'd left for the outskirts of the White City, where the grand Tree of Life stands tall and magnificent as it has since the day Heaven was created. But to his surprise, he wasn't alone here after all. At the foot of the Tree, his keen white eyes spotted another angel. A woman. The same silver hair, any other angel possesses, fluttering on the wind, wings of golden, radiant feathers slumped sadly against her back as she stood there, gazing out at the locked gate to the Well of Souls. Strange. He assumed he would be alone.

Since he wasn't trying to sneak up on her, she heard him approach quite early and whipped around to face him, her own robes billowing, but the moment she laid her golden eyes on him she simply sighed.

"Oh. It's just you, Nathaniel.."

"So it is."

Nathaniel murmured, silently wondering who she'd been actually expecting, and stood for a few long moments, looking at her. A black ribbon with a darkened feather tied around her right wrist caught his attention and something twisted painfully in his chest. Even blackened and bathed in Hellish corruption, the ribbon was unmistakable and the feather spoke for itself..

"What are you doing here, Uriel?"

He found himself asking nonetheless. It's been a long while since they last talked. After all, Nathaniel had been sent away from the Hellguard shortly after Uriel joined their ranks. And it was so long ago.. Humming quietly, Uriel turned away to look up at the Tree's tangled canopy of small fluttering leaves.

"A year…"

She sighed when Nathaniel came closer and stood beside her, watching her stare into the black sky where the moon gazed down on them like a gigantic, round eye.

"It's been a year since Abaddon died.. exactly a year, day to day."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, looking at Uriel's fingers absent mindedly stroking the end of the ribbon tied around her forearm. Even though he'd been away from the White City for quite some time, rumours about the commander of the Hellguard reached Nathaniel even in Lostlight. If they were true, then no wonder Uriel takes Abaddon's demise so personally. He could only imagine what was going on in her head throughout this year. He wasn't going to stop her from spitting out what she'd been choking up inside of her.

"And yet.. I still sometimes wonder. If I should've done something. Stopped War… I don't know."

"He'd been the Destroyer, Uriel. As much as I disagree with it, you couldn't do anything else for him."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Uriel huffed and lowered her head.

"I know. But… I still have this in my head. The sight of him reaching out to me for help. What if…"

She hesitated, something that was very unlike her. Nathaniel raised his eyebrows curiously, waiting for her to speak up. He had his suspicions from the moment Death brought the news of Abaddon's fate and he couldn't help but wonder if Uriel thought the same way.

"I refuse to believe he'd planned it from the beginning. What if all of it wasn't his choice? He can't have been in his right mind! What if before War killed him, in his last moments Abaddon, the real Abaddon, came back? What if… there was still something worth saving in him?"

Nathaniel's suspicions turned out to be true. She thought just like he had. Now it was his turn to look up at the sky. Indeed, there was something so enchanting about this particular night..

"I wondered myself, Uriel. Many times in fact…"

The younger angel crossed her arms and glared down at her boots as though they'd done something wrong. The branches of the Tree creaked mournfully as the wind tugged on them and ruffled feathers of both angels standing below. Its gusts were getting stronger and its voice whistling against nearby structures brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lost soul.

"Abaddon taught me everything I know. I had known him my whole life. It feels so… empty without him."

I can't believe he's gone. That's what she truly meant to say and Nathaniel knew it but said nothing of it. He knew that feeling quite well. Better than most. Abaddon had been his friend after all…

"Sometimes I feel like he's still here. Watching over me like he always has.."

Uriel chuckled humorlessly, as though she meant to laugh off the ridiculousness of her claim but Nathaniel didn't feel like laughing. He laid his hand on Uriel's shoulder, nearly making her jump in the process.

"Who says he isn't?"

He could clearly see her jaw visibly clench tightly at his assumption. Not that he could blame her. Nathaniel knew all too well what Uriel was going through. He didn't want anyone to feel like he does and he wished to offer her comfort, compassion. But it's not easy to do so while he grieves as well.

"Do you think I could've changed it?"

Uriel suddenly asked, making Nathaniel's eyebrow wander up.

"During the initial Endwar.. Do you think if I was a little faster back then…"

"Uriel."

The deep tone of his voice had just the result he was counting on as she cut off to finally look him in the eye. Nathaniel placed his other hand on her other shoulder and said sternly

"Even if so, it doesn't change anything. We can't turn back time. Thinking this way won't make you feel better."

"And how could you possibly know?"

It was just the matter of time before Uriel snapped and brushed Nathaniel's hands from her shoulders. There was fire in her eyes, burning like the hottest blaze of Hell.

"You don't know how I feel."

Frowning gently, Nathaniel heaved out a long suffering sigh.

"Quite the opposite in fact.. I know exactly how you feel…"

This seemed to have given Uriel a pause.

"I've known Abaddon even longer than you have. He was my close friend, one of the very few I had. When the news of his fall reached me I kept wondering if it would've been different if I was there. This one, wretched thought stayed with me for a whole century, like a festering wound that refuses to heal. If you seek understanding, I assure you, you will find it in me."

Would it have been different if I knew of the darkness that threatened Lucien? Sometimes he still has those doubts... In shock, Uriel opened her mouth a couple of times only to shut it again as she couldn't find suitable words. Until..

"I'm… sorry. I had no idea…"

With an unhappy smile, Nathaniel shook his head. He wasn't going to take offense. Grief does strange things to people. Uriel snapping at him wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

"Past cannot be changed. Blaming yourself will not bring you peace of mind. We must march into the future."

Snickering quietly, Uriel looked away.

"You speak words of wisdom.. But I cannot decide if they help me either."

Humming thoughtfully, Nathaniel measured Uriel. Her heart was bleeding profusely, even though she kept it hidden away. He knew how to recognise inner turmoil. From his own experience.. Fortunately, he knew just the way. And honestly, after all this.. Abaddon's treason, Lucien's collapse into the hateful darkness.. he probably needed it as much as she did. Carefully, but insistently, Nathaniel reached out to Uriel and gently pulled her into his arms.

"Nathaniel? What.. are you doing?"

Uriel didn't stop him, probably because of confusion and surprise. Not getting pushed away was a small victory in itself. He was more than happy to explain it to her. Going back to memories of that peculiar human who accompanied Death everywhere always warmed his heart.

"A good friend of mine had told me once that embraces can bring comfort. Especially in sorrow. Does it help you ?"

For a long moment Uriel didn't answer. She was thinking. Up this close Nathaniel could feel her heart rapidly hammering against her ribcage. But then she finally returned the embrace and placed her head on his chest with a heavy sigh.

"It does. Even if a little.."

A tiny note of wonderment in her voice was barely perceptible but definitely there. For a few minutes both angels stood like that in silence before Uriel spoke again.

"Do you think he's at peace? Abaddon, I mean…"

Staring at the shorter angel in his arms, Nathaniel harrumphed. The Charred Council was surely bent on condemning Abaddon, sentencing him to damnation even after his death. He only hoped that the Horsemen made short work of them before they were able to fulfill their dire promises and cast the already tormented soul into Oblivion. Nothing was sure. The only way to confirm either was to travel to the Kingdom of the Dead. Nathaniel couldn't say for certain that Abaddon has his rest or if his spirit in this very moment wastes away in nothingness. The mere thought made his stomach churn. But he didn't speak his fears out loud. He didn't dare.

"I do sincerely hope so…"

An answer as good as any, he supposed. It wasn't a "yes" but neither it was a "no". Perhaps it would be just enough..

"Thank you, Nathaniel.. I'm glad you came here…"

Somehow, an odd, heavy presence lingering about was abruptly lifted from the air when Uriel whispered into the edge of his coat but stayed motionless where she was, unwilling  and not ready to pull away just yet. Mourning is always easier with a companion. For just a second Nathaniel could've sworn he saw something… someone… move out of the corner of his eye but just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. It was most likely nothing. Just a fleeting trick of his imagination. Nathaniel rested his chin on top of Uriel's head and closed his eyes, listening to the wind blowing gently overhead and to her heart beating right next to his own. Two different rhythms that seemed the same. He didn't wish to leave just yet either. Luckily, he didn't have to. There was no need for hurry. It was still the middle of the night. No one will see them here, vulnerable and weak, slowly mending their broken hearts from the pieces.

They still had time…

_________________________________________

Bear with me, I just wanted those sad dorks to lift each other's spirits up. It's not my fault that I'm so trash 😂

At least I drew Nathaniel properly, as I promised :P

Darksiders Inktober drawing prompts by @imagine-darksiders

[satansphatass]

Just like old times - Platonic Tommy x Tubbo

Word count: 1800

Trigger warnings: idk maybe homelessness?

Angst/platonic/fluff

Summary: Tubbo comes to see Tommy in exile.

***

It had been too long since Tubbo had seen his best friend, he still felt bad for exiling him but he had to do what was right for his country. It had been rough the first couple of days, he caught himself turning to tell his right hand man about the animals that he had seen, or a joke that someone had told him, only to be met with silence. It was the hardest decision he had ever made - but it was the right choice, or so he hoped.

He was excited, they would be able to listen to their discs and talk, he could tell Tommy all about his new projects!

He hadn't seen Tommy's new house yet so he didn't really know where he was going but he followed the compass that Wilbur had gifted him: it was his most prized possession, it was in his hand at all times - he couldn't be seen without it. He focused on rowing his little wooden boat, going faster and faster, he couldn't wait to see his best friend - it would be just like old times.

He could see the sillhouette of an island in the distance infront of the beautiful setting sun. He glanced down at his compass, it was pointing in the direction of the island - this must be where Tommy lived!

***

Tommy threw his armour down into the pit, the armour he had worked so hard for, had almost died for - gone. The explosion bought him back to the present, he regretfully looked down into the pit; it had definitely been blown to pieces. The hole was covered in dirt and Tommy looked Dream in his mask eyes.

"Well Tommy, I have errands to run - I'll leave you to it, just follow the rules and nobody will get hurt."

Tommy nodded in understanding having heard this little speech almost everyday since his exile. What he didn't understand was why Dream - his friend, had to leave so soon.

"Can't you stay?" He pleaded "I'm so fucking bored!"

"I've told you Tommy," Dream insisted "I'm busy."

He knew not to disagree, it had caused too many arguments.

He watched as Dream walked off into the distance: going to do god knows what. He walked morosely back to ~tnret~ and pulled out his compass, all he wanted was to see Tubbo - just like old times.

***

Tubbo ran up the shore, only stopping to straighten his tie. He didn't once stop to wonder if Tommy even wanted to see him. He saw a tent on the bank and assumed that was where he lived - it was a bit shabby but he was sure that that was just a temporary home from when he first arrived.

He skipped up to it and opened the flap to see a disheveled looking Tommy laying on his bed, staring up at the top of the tent.

He paused.

"Tommy?"

"Go away," he said "I know you're just in my head - Tubbo doesn't want to see me."

Tubbo stared at him, was that really what Tommy thought? Had he gone insane?

"No big man! I'm right here!"

He just rolled onto his side, ignoring the president. Tubbo pushed his legs to the side and sat on the bed, he placed a hand on his back - feeling him tense up under his touch.

"Is that really you?"

"Yeah man - It's me!"

Tommy looked up at him through blurred eyes, and walked off. Tubbo sat there in confusion, was he not happy to see him? He jumped up and followed the taller boy, he was sat on the beach looking longingly into the water.

"What's your deal dude? I thought you would like to see me."

Tommy looked up with an exasperated look on his face,

"You exiled me!"

"It was best for the country!"

"I thought we were friends." he said in a broken voice.

Tubbo sat down next to him, "We are, Your my best pal!"

He pulled him in for a hug, expecting resistance as usual but he slumped right into him. He was cold to the touch and his skin had a pinkish tone to it.

"Why don't we get somewhere warm?"

Tommy nodded and accepted his hand - following him to Logsteadshire. He entered the little blue house that Wilbur had built and sat down at his table, Tubbo sitting opposite him. He looked up to see Tubbo giving him a concerned look.

"Are you okay man? You're looking kinda rough."

"I'm fine." he snapped.

Tubbo gave him a proper look down, his hair was all grown out and covered in filth. His eyes had lost their blue vibrancy and had dark purple bags under them, his clothes were all ripped and filthy. His shoes had floppy soles and his cheeks were sunken in.

"No, you're not. Let's get you fixed up."

He opened up his bag and pulled out his knife ANd FuCKinG sTabBEd HiM jk, he tugged at strands of Tommy's hair and chopped some of the matted parts off, hoping to tidy it up a bit. He then wiped some of the muck off of his face and attempted to stitch up the rips in his clothes - he always carried a needle and thread, it was in his little emergency bag that he carried everywhere - 'you never know what you might need!' he constantly argued.

By the time he was finished, he did look a little better but still not the Tommy he knew. The Tommy he knew had fluffy blond hair that he loved to place flowers in. The Tommy he knew had bright blue eyes that shone in the dark. The Tommy he knew was always happy.

It was starting to get slightly darker now and he could see some mobs off in the distance, just past the barrier of torches that kept them out. He adjusted his sword, just incase.

"Why don't you put on your armour Tommy? There might be some skeletons hidden in the forest, just waiting for someone."

"Don't be so paranoid all the time."

"I'm not! I just don't want you to get hurt!"

This struck something deep in Tommy, if he didn't want him to get hurt then why did he exile him? Why did he send him away with nothing but a few pieces of 'blue'? Why did nobody come to check on him?

The only person who cared was Dream.

“I don’t have any armour.” he said shortly.

"Why not? You've been here for ages now!"

Ages?! How did he not know how long they had been apart? Had he not been counting? Tommy had been marking down the days - the days he spent all alone. It had been 2 months 3 weeks and 5 days. Almost 3 months since he had seen his best friend. He had been counting down the days, he thought that Tubbo would come to see him every week! every day! That's what best friends did, wasn't it? What could be more important than him?

He swallowed his questions and insecurities.

"Dream takes it."

"Why? He has his own - what does he need it for?!"

"He blows it up, so I can't try anything."

Tubbo stared at him astonished.

"That's not right Tommy, I asked him to escort you and that's it! He shouldn't be doing all- all that!"

"It's fine Tubbo," he insisted "Dream's my friend."

"No he's not! He- he's manipulating you!"

Of course he wasn't, Dream was his friend. He had helped him with everything! He owed it all to Dream. He had helped organise the beach party - the beach party that only he had showed up to. He had even helped him and Ghostbur build Logsteadshire!

Dream wasn't manipulative, was he?

"Dream's my friend." He repeated weakly.

"Can't you see Tommy? That's not what a friend does! I've never done that!"

That was true, Tubbo had never taken his stuff. But had he been with him during the hardest time of his life?

No, instead he had exiled him from his home.

"Then why didn't you come to see me?"

He couldn't really answer that question, why hadn't he? Sure, he had been busy with L'manburg - but there were plenty of other people that could've stepped in for him. He had been laughing and having a good time while Tommy was stuck alone, alone with Dream.

He felt rotten.

"I'm sorry man... I was- busy."

"Busy with what?"

He paused, "L'manburg."

"Oh. I see."

The disappointment in his voice was worse than if he had been angry. He felt like he had done something wrong. He hadn't, had he?

It was for L'manburg.

They stayed in silence for a bit longer, the silence that they used to experience without it being awkward.

He felt as if he barely knew the blond boy next to him.

"What do you want to do?" He asked hesitantly.

Tommy paused and suddenly pulled out a disc - chirp, Tubbo's favourite.

"We can listen to it, just like old times!"

Seeing the sudden glow on Tommy's filthy face made him incapable of saying no - he just wanted his best friend back, happy, outgoing and blunt. None of this closed off and quiet bullshit.

He jumped up and ran off outside. Tubbo quickly followed in pursuit, giggling in excitement.

He found Tommy sat at the back of his beat-up tent next to a jukebox. He quickly flopped to the floor - his formal jacket getting a bit muddy.

He dropped the black and red disc into the box and waited for the music to start up. The upbeat tune suddenly filled his ears - he closed his eyes and reminisced over all times they had sat watching the sunset together on that little bench by L'manburg.

He slowly opened his eyes to see the sunset slowly dipping past the horizon, his mouth quirked up in a smile.

It was just like old times.

[bisexy-legend]

Okay, I've spent the last 24 hours reading a book called "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" I don't know if it's famous on Tumblr or anything but I just felt the need to come here and talk about it and maybe introduce this book to more people.

First thing first I have to say that even though I discovered it just two day ago it's already one of my favorite books ever, I'm gonna start with a spoiler free review:

When I started it I knew I liked the concept, a Hollywood star searching for a journalist who had no relevance whatsoever and wanting to talk to her and only her about her life and hidden secrets, when Evelyn started to talk about her life I knew I liked the way the book was been written, how easy it was to see all the things Evelyn was describing, how complex every character was getting with every chapter and by the time her story was over I was completely in love with most of them, with how complex and full os nuances the author made them. It's intriguing how we already know or think we know how it ends but then it takes a completely different turn and to be honest by the end I really wished Evelyn Hugo was a real person and that I could talk to her.

From now on there will be spoilers so if you didn't read it and want to do so without spoilers stop here

I have to say I already knew there would be a lgbt story in the book, cause the indication of it came from a thread in which there were only books with Queer characters but also I had no idea that it would be as impacting for me as it turned out to be.

As a bisexual woman myself I was truly in love when Monique asks if Evelyn is coming out as gay woman cause she told her she was in love with Celia and Evelyn tells Monique that she's bisexual, that she loved both men and women and that Monique shouldn't ignore half of her just to put her in a box, the feeling of being ignored just so people can understand you easily is real.

I also loved how her bisexuality was never ignored she loved Celia her whole life, but she loved men too, and not for once she fit the "bisexuals are greedy" stereotype, yes she had sex with guys when she was with Celia, but it was shown as a characteristic of her, she didn't do it because she was bi, she did it because for her it was something that needed be done, either to keep their secrets or to have a baby without raising questions about their secrets.

One other point I really loved was the "multiple soulmates" thing, Celia was her soulmate, the love of her life, but Harry was her best friend, also her soulmate but in such a different way, when I started the book I never, not for a second, thought that their relationship would be so pure and that I would ended up loving Harry and the way he was so kind to her her whole life.

Celia St. James gained my heart the very first time she appeared, I loved how honest she was with Evelyn, how Evelyn who didn't trust a living soul ended up trusting her and their relationship was built with so many layers since the beginning, Celia was not a pure angel, she was just as complex as any other character in this book, I loved how idealistic she was, how she wanted to go to the Stonewall riots, how she never wanted to hide who she was, how when things got too much she actually left Evelyn, it broke my heart, but I also understood her choices, Celia loved Evelyn her whole life too, she was sometimes scared with Evelyn being bisexual, which also broke my heart but in the end when she says "we are gay" and then corrects herself with "I'm gay and you are bisexual", honestly I would read another book just with her and Evelyns stories, and if I could make one single change in the book would be the years they lost being apart, I cried my eyeballs out when they talk about it.

Then there's Evelyn Hugo who honestly is one of the most beautifully written characters I ever read, she was shown as a real person, not a good or bad person, she was a real person dealing with choices, some she got right, some she didn't, she's not type of protagonist I was aused to, she is not a silly girl who didn't understood the things she did, she knew what she wanted she went after it, she never say she was sorry, I didn't like her very much in the beginning maybe cause that is not the kind of female characters we are "supposed to love" but oh god did Evelyn Hugo conquered my heart fast, as a young girl conquering Hollywood or as a old woman advising Monique, I loved every part of her character, sure she made a lot of bad choices, she wasn't inocent person or as she said herself "a good person", but I understood her, I respected her so much, and to be honest, if she was a real person I would like to sit down and talk to her about everything.

Evelyn and Celia's relationship was my favorite surprise, I didn't think it would go as they did, I cried when they got married in their bed cause I knew what would happen next, the book never for once tried to deceive the reader, everyone Evelyn loved was dead, so it was a matter of time, but it was more heartbreaking than I anticipated, I loved how soft Evelyn was with Celia, how she kept the soft only for her, how even with the many tribulations I thought till the very end that their love was one of the most pure things I ever read, how they trade little messages in their Oscar acceptance speechs and how they loved each other even when they hadn't seen each other for years, how all they want to be able to live like a normal couple, I thought of how many people back then had to go through the same thing as they did, how many are going through it now, and my heart was even more broken.

I must say that I searched for every possible connection between Evelyn and Monique, and when the accident was mentioned I knew what was the big secret, but it wasn't less shocking when Evelyn said it to her, I was pleased surprised when she said that she did it for Monique to know how much she was loved, this and the letter I did not see coming, during the book I thought what part would Monique chose to put in the article, but I never thought she would put that Evelyn loved Celia and yet it felt so incredibly fit, she honored Evelyn even though she was still mad at her, as she said Evelyn loved Celia and that was the most real thing in her life, she had seven husbands and that was widely known but the thing she valuable the most was her wife.

I maybe liked this book way too much, maybe I saw a little bit of myself in every character, in the way Evelyn tried to hide who she was, in Celia want to be with the woman she loved consequences be damned, in the way Harry was realistic about the whole thing, this is definitely a must read for everyone, I'm not quite over it yet, I wrote this long ass post about it and I haven't even said all my thoughts about it, to me this book was precious and I loved the experience it gave me, I ended it crying like a baby but also, very satisfied with how it ended and just wanting badly that it ended up becoming a movie someday but without changing anything, not one single line, I don't know if anyone will ever come to the end of this post but if you do, please share with me your thoughts about this book, it wasn't been officially translated to Portuguese so I don't know anyone who read it, and I can't introduce it to most of my friends cause they don't speak or understand English and I could really use a friend to vent out about this book.