#i. am tagging these in case anyone browsing these tags happens to know languages well and could perhaps help me do fantasy grammar 👀

[digitalcactusblog]

the only thing holding me back from making a full-on conlang is that i don't understand grammar at all

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate

Warnings: Use of cursed techniques/action. Occasional improper/rough language. Fighting and descriptions of blood

Chapter number: 1

Next chapter: The Rebirth

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst and fluff. Angst with a happy ending. (Yuh I don't do sad endings yalls). Noritoshi x fem!reader

Type: multi chaptered fic. Yes this is gonna be long.

Notes: I've been wanting to write a Noritoshi fated soulmates fic in forever! The story is still in progress and I will update it here as I go. Characters are not mine; all rights reserved to Gege Akutami sensei for the creation of Jujutsu Kaisen. Please don't repost my story or work anywhere, just keep it here in Tumblr. Thanks - all rights reserved to limitlessgojo.

CHAPTER 1: The First Meeting

Going to Kyoto Jujutsu High School for high school had always been inevitable. You knew that you were destined to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, due to the power you've been born with. 

Psychokinesis. A very rare yet powerful strength that allows you to control almost everything around you. And yet the difficulty with manipulating such fine air particles or volatile flames was surprisingly not a huge obstacle. You were born with good instincts and you've always used your cursed technique well.

Just as Gojo Satoru from the Gojo clan mentioned the overall difficulty of controlling his limitless technique, you had to fine tune and play to your strengths as you grew. 

And here you are now, standing in front of the imposing yet beautiful campus of Kyoto Jujutsu High School. You gulped. "Now now," the pretty lady who introduced herself as Utahime sensei earlier spoke, "I understand why you'd be so nervous moving into the dorms. But don't worry, most of the older students are out on missions at the moment. Though you will probably meet your classmates within the next few days, Tsuchimikado chan." 

"Thank you so much Utahime sensei. Yes I'll try to relax a bit, but I just feel so nervous meeting new people. Oh and you can call me y/n. I'm aware my surname is a bit long." You replied. 'And not to mention, everyone here must be a powerful warrior. I wonder if anyone is crazy or really intimidating…' you wondered to yourself. 

She pats you on the back and guides you to move forward and into the campus, "Ah then y/n chan should be fine. If someone bullies or hurts you just come straight to me okay? We don't tolerate that kind of behaviour here. … at least I don't." She added as an after thought.

She was very gentle. It made you feel more at ease. And it also helps that there are so much plants on the campus, much more than you expected. 

She led you to your dorm room. It had a queen sized bed as per your request, a small kitchen, dining table, TV, single bathroom with a shower and a bath tub, and the usual furniture. It was spacious enough that 2 people could probably live together in the room. 

After thanking her, she left you to settle down. You made yourself at home.

"Should I go out and explore the campus now? … we didn't bump into anybody yet. And Sensei did mention earlier that I am the first First-year student to have arrived on campus.. hmmm. Yeah best to be safe and do it now. I guess I can rest tomorrow anyways."

Classes don't start for a few more days, so you had time to rest and get familiar with the campus. You were just wearing a simple black and white tracksuit set, and looked decent enough in case you were to bump into anyone. 

So you left your room and strolled the campus. Armed of course, you never know what might happen. Something feels different and you knew it. Like a calm before the storm. 'But for what? Nothing's gonna happen. I'm within the protective barrier and yet all my hairs are raised and it feels like electricity is running through my veins.' 

You strolled along, looking at the buildings from afar. Recognising some from the map of the campus you had browsed the night before. You spotted the library and the weaponry. You'd have to ask permission to go into the latter. For a moment you forgot your nerves and were brimming with excitement. 

'At least I'll be able to get stronger while I'm here'. You happily thought. As you had always aimed to get stronger to support and protect your family. 

But the nerves came right back at you after a short bit. You felt your twin short blades tucked underneath your long sleeves and held onto the hilts. 'I must be out of my mind… nothing is going to happen.' You kept repeating the phrase in your mind.

You walked over to the huge track and field. You were so distracted by the view (you were trying to measure the distance by eye, give yourself some slack) that you failed to see and sense a figure coming up to you. Until their wave of cursed energy washed over you and you quickly spun around, eyes widening. 

Pretty. That was the first word you thought of upon seeing the man. Intense was the next thing you thought. Black hair, with bangs falling above his shoulders, secured to the sides with two white bindings. He was taller than you. A uniform with wide loose sleeves like a butterfly's wings billowed around him. You quickly bowed in greeting.

"Hello! I'm an incoming first year, my name is Tsuchimikado Y/N, and I am of the Tsuchimikado clan."

"2nd year, Kamo Noritoshi, eldest son of the Kamo clan. It's nice to meet you." He replied. And immediately shivers ran down your spine upon hearing his voice. '! And he is a senior too!' you thought.

"You're from the Abe Clan right?"

"Uhh yes I'm of the Abe clan. The Tsuchimikado are a descendant branch of that family. Descendants of Abe no Seimei." you said. "I've also heard of the Kamo clan, one of the great 3 Jujutsu clans.…."

You trailed off as you looked back up, straightening to meet his eyes. And upon making eye contact with him, you had a vision you've never seen before.

Flames were all around you and the strong smell of blood doused the air. You were fighting against curses back to back with a man. 

You couldn't control your actions. It was as if you were watching the events unfold through a movie screen. But you recognised your technique.

"Extension Cursed Technique: Niflheim!" You chanted and spread out your hands, instantly freezing a large amount of curses around you. "Convergence! Piercing Blood!" The man behind you yelled out, shooting down the frozen curses. 

Working in perfect harmony with one another to bring down the curses, even though it was the both of you against well over a dozen, it was an easy win. After the battle and confirming that all curses have been dealt with, he turned to look at you with the biggest grin. 

The man had long black hair. Gentle slanted eyes, high cheekbones with pale skin. You didn't recognise him from anywhere, but somehow the body you were in knew his smell and figure. He pulled you into a deep kiss, murmuring "My love, you have done so well." against your lips. "Would my lover like to accept her reward?"

"If you could please do so." You breathily replied to him. You raised your hands to entangle them in his hair. His high ponytail had been loosened from the fight. You ran your hands up and down his chest and back, feeling the muscles flexing underneath your fingers. Pressing your body against to his and feeling the warmth run across your midsection-

Suddenly the vision ends and you're back in the present, cheeks on fire and staring back at Kamo. It was then you properly saw the color of his warm brown eyes and noted his flushed face.

"...." 

"..." 

Neither of you spoke out loud. And you started wondering if he saw the same thing you did. But that was… what was it? The more you tried to reach back to the vision, the harder it was to remember. 

"… I'm sorry but did you see something just now?" You had to ask him just to confirm you weren't hallucinating.

"I saw myself fighting with a woman. And I was using my family's inherited cursed technique." he said.

"I saw something similar, but I was with a man. I was using my cursed technique! But it seemed like a different period?? It wasn't…. We weren't in modern day clothes… and the formality of the language was…" You stumbled over your words, trying to remember the vision but the images remained hazy. 

"So… maybe we saw memories of other people. A vision of the future?? Although unlikely... Or perhaps….?" He quieted down as he considered possibilities. Stepping forward to close the distance between you. He stared at you from head to toe as if analysing your being. This made you self conscious. A handsome man, checking you out…

"I'm not so sure. Is this the first time it happened to you?" You asked him. "I've never had this before."

Kamo replied with, "Same here. Let's keep this to ourselves first and research about it. Such a thing isn't impossible in the world we live in." 

"I can think of a few other cases, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions." You agreed with him. 

"Let's head back the sun is beginning to set." He remarked. With a start, you realized that the sky was darkening quickly. "No way, we still had about an hour until sunset earlier!" You gaped up at the sky. It was already turning into a deep orange. Your shared vision with Kamo lasted longer than both of you had expected.

"Come along. I can take you around the main areas. You're new aren't you?" Kamo beckoned you to follow him. "Ah yes, thank you so much! I hope it's not a bother. And how should I address you? Kamo San? Kamo Senpai?" You hurried after him. 

He stopped and stared at you. Then a beat passed. "Noritoshi senpai is okay. I don't mind." 

Your face that was cooling down suddenly flushed red again. You quickly turned to the side, "Are you okay with that? We've only just met…" 

"And yet it feels like we have known each other already." He finished for you. "It's fine with me unless it makes you uncomfortable. Call me what you wish."

"Then Noritoshi senpai, I'll be in your care. You can call me anything you want, Y/n is fine." You turned to peek at him. His ears were turning pink, how cute. 

You reached the main building and he brought you around the main areas. The dining area was spacious, and the weaponry was particularly impressive. "That's about it. There are more, but it's getting late and I'll be having dinner soon." Noritoshi said. 

"Ah yes, I'd hate to bother you. Thanks so much for bringing me around senpai! Then I'll excuse myself." You smiled and were about to walk off until he reached out. But stopped short of holding onto your arm.

He looked like he wanted to say something. So you waited expectantly. 

"If you want me to bring you around the other places in campus, I can show you around tomorrow." Noritoshi said hesitantly. You smiled and said you wouldn't mind. 

"Thank you for today senpai. Good night!" You waved at him. He lifted a hand in return, lips slowly quirking into a gentle smile for the first time that day. Then he turned and left you to your thoughts as you returned to your dorm.

End Notes: In my Alternate Universe, red strings of Fate are very real and very rare. Most people don't chase after their soulmates but a lot of people of course dream about it. The strings of Fate in this particular story bind people and let them share feelings, thoughts, even some sensations to an extent. And from the parents who are both soulmates, stronger children with powerful jujutsu Techniques are born. (Taking a note from my hero academia and how quirks meld and evolve after generations!)

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[ctl-yuejie]

This or That - Book edition

I got tagged by @stebeee! thanks babe <3

hardcover or paperback - I love paperback editions. Much easier to carry around in bags and read on trains etc. i used to prefer haradcovers when i was a teenager, but mostly because paperbacks back then had very cheap looking covers

rent or buy - I buy most of the books I read and only rent the ones for my studies. I am quite peculiar with scents and smells so I really don’t like books that smell used. But I don’t buy that many books and I am trying to get back into renting more (I used to live in our local library when I was a kid)

reads in silence or reads with music - Sometimes I read with background ambience sounds but I either drown the noise out after a while or get annoyed when there’s a mood change and the music doesn’t fit anymore.

standalone or series - Not big into series unless the author thought about the whole arc and ending when writing the first book. And while I know that I don’t prefer series I almost always wish the book I read would continue so I get to see more of the world. But that only applies to fantasy, while I mostly read educational stuff. 

annotations or pristine pages -  Pristine pages unless I read a book for educational reasons in which case it is colourful post-its all the way.

ebook or physical copy - Don’t have an ebook reader and I try to limit my screentime. Also don’t like how it feels when holding.

dog ears or bookmarks - *shudders at the thought of dog ears* I do however sometimes turn opened books upside down and use pretty much anything as bookmarks.

mismatched series or complete set - I strive for the aesthetics but I do own several mismatched series (sometimes not even the languages match)

cover matters or you don’t judge - If there are several publications to chose from I definitely chose the most visually appealing. Cover design and book binding is an art and if I can get golden rimmed pages for the same price as a boring cover one I will go with the fancy pages.

lend books or keep them to yourself - I will lend my books to pretty much anyone. Roomie and me have shared bookshelves. 

enjoys lit classes or despises them - now, I don’t despise lit classes as a concept and I do thing they are important and I actually wish I had the time to attend some lit classes in university. It just so happens that my teachers in high school were objectively terrible and I hated everything about the classes even though I did like literature analysis. 

browses shops or orders online - I never order online and only order via my local non-chain bookstore. They also have a brilliant book selection at hand so when I go there to pick up my orders I will take another book with me most of the time. Support your local bookstore!

reads reviews or goes in blind - I read reviews + newspaper reviews but I don’t let bad reviews deter me from not reading a book. Just now I finished a highly recommended book about climate change and it was really bad so reviews can swing both ways. I do however like to have a quick overview of which people recommended and disliked a book so I know where to look later to look for alternate interpretations. 

unreturned books or clean library record - Yeah babe! (unless you count my university’s library.....)

rereads or once was enough - If I like a book a will reread it a lot.

fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon - YES! fanfic authors are amazing even if or especially when I am content what canon gives me.

deep reader or easily distracted - Hours can pass and I can even become invisible to the people around me. 

must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter - I don’t like to spoil myself so I will try and read the book first if I intended to read the book at all.  

has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves - Pretty neat. No real colour-coordination or anything like that but the shelves are divided by themes so it is pretty organized and everything is standing orderly in a row. 

skips ahead or resists temptation - If things get too tense or a book is emotionally wrecking me I will read the last page.

reads aloud or in your head -  In my head. But I’ve heard that some people can just read things without reading them aloud in any way and that still baffles me (please someone tell me that that is impossible)

guesses plot twists or never sees them coming - I mostly see a plot twist coming but that just speaks to the book being well written.

[branwyn-says]

i just want to tell you that while i haven't read new sherlock fic in literal years and have no interest going back to that fandom or browsing the ao3 tag ever again, compatible damage is so important to me that i reread it regularly and if i ever got an e-mail notification saying you updated it, i'd drop everything immediately and check it out. this isn't meant to be a shitty please update ask though, i just want to say that i have a lot of feelings about that au and i appreciate your writing!!

You’re wonderful. I feel the same way about Sherlock fandom but sometimes I wish I could get back into that headspace just so I could finish The Silences, Here is how that story was going to go, if anyone cares: --The premise of the story was that it would mash up the basic plot of the Arthur Conan Doyle story The Abbey Grange (Holmes decides to let a naval officer off the hook for killing his friend’s abusive husband) and the Holmes backstory from The Adventure of the Gloria Scott (Holmes’ bff at college was a guy named Victor Trevor whose dog bit him on the ankle). --The same early 20th Sherlock Holmes pro fic (the Baring Gould book) that gave us William Sherlock Scott Holmes as his full name speculates that Mrs Hudson came into Holmes’s life via the Australian criminal named Hudson who blackmailed Victor Trevor’s father. --In my fic, “The Silences”, Victor Trevor and Mrs. Hudson have a close bond, because she was around his family when Victor was a kid and when her husband died it was good for both of them. He was abusive and Victor saw the ugliness and pain of all of that first hand. 

--Years later, after going into Ambiguous Spy Work following a naval career, Victor finds out that an old friend, Mary Foster, is now trying to escape an abusive marriage. He tries to help Mary get out, but when her husband finds out, Victor kills him, and the case is unsolvable by the police because Victor is MI6 and just that good. --...Yeah I am just now realizing that the plot of this story is basically John Reese’s back story from Person of Interest which explains a whole lot now I think about it. --Anyway, in the period between “I have to get Mary to safety” and “oops never mind, the abusive jackass is dead”, Victor writes to Mrs Hudson: “Do you happen to know if Sherlock is still alive because I would like to discuss A Situation with him.” Mrs Hudson gives Sherlock that letter, prompting Sherlock to reach out to Victor. --Victor has already committed the murder he wanted Sherlock’s help to avoid having to commit, so...he acts real cagey. But he’s a spy so, that tracks, and Sherlock is not that suspicious at first. --But Lestrade has been tasked to solve the murder of Sir Eustace Brackenstall because blah blah important dude unsolvable case, so he attempts to get Sherlock and Joanna in on it. Joanna is down. Sherlock is, “No, my one purpose in life is to tend to Joanna’s medical needs until she is fully recovered.” Joanna: Getting you out of the flat is a medical need that I have. On account of, you are suffocating me. Sherlock: That’s just the opiates I drugged you with talking. --This story was always meant to be the culmination of the <a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/series/13134”>Compatible Damage series</a> theme of “Joanna Watson has expert knowledge of how trauma and domestic violence cause people to behave in irrational ways that baffle Sherlock’s deductive logic” --Because Joanna is recovering from the serious injuries sustained in <a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/works/294574”>Let Sense Be Dumb</a>, she spends a lot of time chatting with Mrs. Hudson while Sherlock is investigating for Lestrade and getting reacquainted with Victor. Mrs. Hudson talks a little about her awful marriage (this was all plotted out long before there was any Mrs. Hudson back story in BBC canon) and thus, Joanna is very In That Headspace where she’s having trouble with the concept that healthy relationships can exist, especially heterosexual ones. (I am not sure if I ever made it clear but Sherlock and Joanna are both biromantic and slightly ace spectrum in my stories.) --Things are very tentative between Sherlock and Joanna. They’re both aware that they want intimacy with each other, of some kind, that they love each other, to the extent they understand what that means, but how the hell do they proceed? Joanna’s in bad shape, Sherlock is constantly anxious and overprotective and slightly smothering in his nursing duties, and is also terrible at nursing. Joanna is just tired of Other People and sometimes, Sherlock Specifically. --Mrs Hudson offers to cook a big dinner so they can have a small party and invite Victor and his new fiancee Mary over! This will end well. Actually, it goes great, and Victor is over the moon to meet Joanna and they bond over Sherlock’s baby pictures so to speak, and then Sherlock takes Victor aside for...idk, something, and Joanna and Mrs. Hudson and Mary all have an after dinner tipple and a chat... --...and by the time Victor and Mary are getting into a cab, Joanna knows for A Damn Fact that Mary’s previous relationship was abusive, and that Victor was trying way too hard to charm everyone. She doesn’t say anything to Sherlock because...it’s a friend! A Sherlock friend! She isn’t going to fuck that up! Please get Sherlock out of the flat, Victor, Joanna needs some space! But boy that was some suspicious body language and protective behavior she saw. --Lestrade is coming over a bunch, because he and Joanna are bros, and Sherlock is Unavailable For Detective Work Because Joanna is Hurt, so Lestrade gets Joanna to help him think shit over. So that’s how Joanna finds out that Mary Foster was Lady Brackenstall, until recently. 

--From the outside, there is no evidence of abuse in the Brackenstall’s marriage. Lestrade isn’t even looking at the wife as a suspect or a motive. The “gang of thieves in the area” thing from ACD canon is still his best lead.  --In the ACD story, Holmes stages a mock trial where he exonerates the naval officer, acting as judge, with Watson as the jury. He’s cleared and sent on his way to marry Mary and start a new life. Watson is not thrilled that Holmes is “taking the law into his own hands”, but as Holmes says, furiously, “I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies.”  --In this story, that decision is going to fall on Joanna. She is the only one who has figured out, or can figure out, that a) the murdered dude was beating his wife and that b) his wife had a close friend who was dangerous as hell and would do anything to keep her safe. Unless she makes that link for Lestrade, the case will just go unsolved. --And the thing is, she doesn’t even feel completely certain that Victor did the killing. The timing of the murder is off, for one. He would have had to show up at the Abbey Grange house and shoot Sir Eustace more less within an hour of getting back to England. It’s a really narrow time window, and it only creates a bare sliver of possibility, and she really wants to ignore it. --Except, then she and Sherlock have a moment. Joanna tells him that Mary’s husband was abusive, without drawing the connection to Lestrade’s murder investigation. Sherlock doesn’t put the pieces together until the next time he’s with Victor and Mary together. He thinks about what Joanna told him, and he sees how tender and protective Victor is toward Mary. It gives Sherlock a nasty turn, because 1) That is how he looks at Joanna, so does that mean that he and Joanna are supposed to be a couple like Victor and Mary are? and 2) He knows how he feels about the various people who have hurt Joanna, which is to say he wants very much to Kill Them All, and if Joanna got married to another person, and that person trapped her in the house and hurt her on a regular basis, then Sherlock would... well Sherlock would do what Victor undoubtedly did, and kill the fucker. --The resolution, as far as I had it planned out, was that Joanna confronts Mary (instead of Holmes confronting Captain Croker, as in the ACD story), Mary admits it, Joanna feels satisfied that the actual killing really was unavoidable self defense. She feels bad keeping it from Lestrade, but Mary and Victor are planning to leave the country and not return. So Joanna lets them go. --And then she tells Sherlock what happened, and what she did, and is prepared for it to be a Thing, except then Sherlock admits he made the same deduction at practically the same moment, and explains how he came to the conclusion, and they agree that after Victor gives them an all clear, they’ll give Lestrade enough information to close the case.

--And then Sherlock and Joanna awkwardly face down their big big emotions and it’s painful and weird but they smooch, and are a couple, and that is the end of the series.

[oliveam]

hiya  loves  !   i’m  so  pumped  to  be  here  ,  truly  can’t  believe  my  eyes  w  the  surplus  of  talent  all  around  me  !   unfortunately  capitalism  literally  has  me  in  a  chokehold  &  the  life  of  a  retail  worker  trudges  on  even  with  the  virus  rampant  ,  so  i’m  actually  at  work  ,  soz  ,  but  i’m  eager  to  spend  the  hours  between  shifts  eagerly  making  up  for  lost  time  (  &  for  once  i  actually  did  something  in  advance  to  ensure  i  wouldn’t  get  stuck  behind  the  current  . . .  clearly  i’m  love  struck  )  !  so  here  this  baby  is  ,  &  here  eye  am  (  amie  ,  9teen  ,  pst  )  to  love  &  be  loved  back   ;_;

full   name   :        olive   penelope   black nicknames   :        o   ,   olly   if   you’re   prepared   to   be   glared   into   an   early   grave birthdate   :        october   31 hometown   :        portland   ,   maine current   location   :        cape     coral     international   school      ,      maine languages   spoken   :        english    ,    latin    ,    some   italian distinguishing   features   :        pearly   white   smile   ,   runway   ready   hair   at   all   times physical   ailments   :        asthma sexuality   :        bisexual   but   in   the   closet likes   :        morning   crossword   puzzles   with   her   dad   ,   mint   chocolate   ice   cream   ,   amazon   prime   (  fleabag   &   the   marvelous   mrs.   maisel   in   particular  )   ,   the   comfort   of   her   room   ,   math   class   with   her   favorite   professor   ,   sibling   outings   where   she   can   force   them   to   pay   attention   wholly   to   her   ,   rock   music   ,   being   a   nosy   lil   witch   ,   pouting   ,   a   racket   in   her   hand   ,   pride   &   prejudice   (  2005  ,  obvs  ) dislikes   :        church   on   sunday   mornings   ,   the   radio   ,   facebook   (  the   social   network   on   the   other   hand   .  .  .  )   ,   feeling  /  being   out   of   the   loop   ,   martinis   ,   being   alone   with   her   mother character    trope   :        the   maiden   .    the   main   draw   to   this   particular   trope   was   the   analogy   to   fiona   from   shrek   ,   who   can   be   likened    to   olive   quite   meaningfully   ,   with   the   parallels   between   each   girl’s   youth   coming   to   mind   (  save  for  the  whole  ogre  business  ,  though  she  does  have  queen  of  the  swamp  noted  in  her  future  plans  )   ,   such   as   being   raised   in   a   coddled   ,   spoiled   home   ,   but   lacking   any   true   relationship   with   the   bearers   of   her   gilded   childhood   (  more  so  her  mother  in  olive’s  case  )   .   if   her   parents   could   have   stuck   her   up   in   a   tower   during   her   teenage   years   ,   they   would   have   signed   straight   up   as   a   clause   in   the   adoption   papers   .   moreover   ,   olive   believes   she   knows   best   ,   when   really   she   doesn’t   know   much   at   all   ⏤⏤⏤   about   the   important   things   ,   at   least   .   she   is   currently   unaware   about   her   family’s   involvement   with   the   collapse   ,   &   is   far   from   suspecting   a   thing   ,   though   she   is   nosy   beyond   all  else   ,   which   won’t   bode   well   in  her   future   ⏤⏤⏤   she   might   have   overlooked   the   whole   scandal   as   nothing   more   than   an   interesting   change   in   school   dynamics   at   first   ,   but   if   there’s   even   an   inkling   that   tickles   her   radar   ,   it’ll   be   tough   to   distract  &  throw   her   off   the   trail   .  

‘      .      ⋆        ❬        🎶      !

001.    stay    (    i    missed    you    )    by    lisa    loeb    .        while  olive  may  not  have  experienced  the  events  depicted  in  the  song  herself  (  nor  ever  been  in  a  relationship  )  ,  the  voice  of  the  narrator  speaks  strongly  to  her  ,  &  if  a  break - up  like  that  ever  would  happen  to  olive  ,  this  is  how  she’d  react  ,  but  more  so  than  the  lyrics  are  the  annotations  &  notes  on  the  song’s  genius  page  ,  which  if  anything  served  as  inspiration  for  olive  .  the  thing  that  really  cemented  this  song  for  me  though  was  this  :  “  you said that i was naive and i thought that i was strong  ”  .  a  perfect  way  to  sum  her  up  !  

002.    you    sexy    thing    by    zella    day    .        lmfao  ,  she’s  a  romantic  babey  !!!  but  fr  ,  this  is  how  she’d  act  if  she  ever  got  loved  up  .

003.    creme    de    la    creme    by    evalyn    .        this  song  just  . . .  gets  her  .  literally  every  lyric  is  a  tidbit  i  can  go  on  about  ,  but  even  the  general  i  don’t  know  what  my  life  is  ,  but  i  know  this  vibe  of  it  all  is  just  chef’s  kiss  . 

‘      .      ⋆        ❬        🕶      !

olive  was  adopted  as  a  newborn  under  circumstances  unknown  to  her  ,  but  her  dad  liked  to  joke  she  came  to  them  by  way  of  a  stork  .  she  thought  this  was  true  until  the  age  of  nine  .

introduces  herself  as  olive  ,  immediately  followed  by  “  my mom love’s a martini  ”  .  most  people  take  it  as  a  joke  .  it’s  not  :/

a  lot  of  people  like  to  throw  the  word  ‘ prude ’  around  ,  enough  so  that  it’s  basically  synonymous  with  olive’s  name  at  this  point  .  safe  to  say  ,  that’s  a  typical  schoolyard  insult  that  stuck  six  years  too  long  .  she’s  not  picky  ,  or  even  obsessed  with  finding  the  RiGhT  oNe  .  if  anything  ,  she’s  almost  desperate  for  love  ,  but  in  a  way  that  she  doesn’t  actually  want  it  .  or  is  too  scared  of  its  enormity  .  take  the  heralded  richard  siken  quote  for  example  :   actually  ,  you  said  love  ,  for  you  ,  is  larger  than  the  usual  romantic  love  .  it’s  like  a  religion  .  it’s  terrifying  .  no  one  will  ever  want  to  sleep  with  you  .  i  mean  ??  that  quote  just  strips  this  bitch  down  to  her  core  !  &  if  i  loved  you  less  ,  i  might  be  able  to  talk  about  it  more  !!!!!!!!!!  (  she  doesn’t  currently  love  anyone  ,  but  y’all  get  the  gist  )  .  it’s  overwhelming  in  a  way  that  she’s  scared  to  be  so  wholly  overtaken  by  something  she  doesn’t  understand  ,  yet  yearns  .  i  could  continue  to  yap  about  this  particular  subject  forever  ,  but  i’ll  save  your  eyes  .  

olive’s  got  a  head  on  her  shoulders  ,  a  sharp  one  at  that .  her  grades  aren’t  the  highest  in  her  year  ,  nor  even  in  the  top  ten  ,  but  that’s  more  down  to  her  general  lack  of  passion  for  school  than  might  of  mind  .  she’s  got  a  keen  eye  &  an  even  keener  mind  when  she  wills  it  ,  shedding  the  role  of  spoiled  brat  imprinted  upon  her  by  fortune  without  issue  if  the  situation  appropriately  deems  it  .

olive  is  a  sweetheart  at  her  core  ,  but  she  can  be  quite  callous  .  not  in  a  cruel  way  ,  a  la  a  regina  george  ,  but  in  a  harsh  way  she  can’t  quite  control  ,  when  her  filter  gets  screwed  &  she’s  not  prone  to  sensitivity  ,  or  is  moody  &  prone  to  a  swift  mood  shift  .  that  said  ,  she’s  as  warm  as  a  hug  from  your  nana  to  most  ,  while  being  unafraid  to  make  her  favorites  clear  ,  generally  paying  so  much  attention  to  particular  people  that  others  feel  iced  out  ,  when  really  they’re  just  not  on  her  radar  ,  as  brutal  as  that  sounds  .  for  her  friends  ,  she’s  genuinely  ride  or  die  ;  think  mike  from  stranger  things  (  she’d  jump  off  that  cliff  for  dustin’s  baby  teeth  any  day  !  )  .  she  was  also  raised  a  certain  way  ,  with  luxuries  at  her  fingertips  ,  &  may  unintentionally  be  tone  deaf  at  times  ,  though  that’d  probably  be  from  coming  on  too  hard  rather  than  being  ignorant  .  

if  you  lie  to  her  ,  she  won’t  ever  forget  it  ,  nor  truly  forgive  .  i  wouldn’t  test  it  .

seriously  .  she’s  been  coding  /  hacking  since  she  was  eight  as  a  playtime  &  since  excelling  in  math  courses  &  generally  sharpening  the  skill  through  hours  wasted  on  gaming  sites  &  html  that  positively  drys  the  eyes  right  out  a  la  spongebob  ,  she’s  gotten  better  than  she  can  even  objectively  note  .  she’ll  browse  the  school  system  for  fun  or  on  a  dare  ,  but  she’s  never  been  invested  enough  in  a  certain  grade  to  change  it  for  herself  ,  so  browsing  is  all  it  was  .  that  is  ,  unless  a  friend  asks  for  a  favor  ⏤⏤⏤  that  ride  or  die  life  baby  .  

she’s  a  fighter  !  she’s  a  lover  !  she  will  kick  ass  &  kiss  cheeks  !  

‘      .      ⋆        ❬        👯      !

i  like  to  really  delve  into  personally  forged  connections  between  muns  ,  so  unfortunately  no  wanted  cons  as  of  yet  ,  but  here  is  where  all  of  olive’s  established  connections  will  sit  !  for  now  ,  i  do  have  this  tag  :~)

⋆     connection    /     tba     .        blah  blah  !   

[noonachronicles]

Everlong Pt. 4

Kwon Jiyong/ G Dragon X Reader

Word count: 6k

Warnings: mild language, discussions/themes of death, mentions of infidelity. 

Genre: Hades/Jiyong. Greek God AU. Fantasy. 

A/N: I took extra care with this one because it’s important. I feel like it’s the part where the actual plot comes into play and I hope everyone is excited as I am about it. :D

Update Tag: @kathrynwynterbourne (do you still want this? lol)

Moodboard by bae @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

The throne room in the Judgement Pavilion was truly a sight to behold. An architectural scholars wet dream, if only they knew it existed before they were dead. It was imposing to say the very least. A long room with magnificently high ceilings. Expertly peaked arches, and ribbed vaulting that lined the narrow length of the hall. Ivory columns stood like centurions at uniform intervals, every three yards. The walls were a dark rosewood. They looked black in the dim lighting of the room. It was difficult for anyone not looking for it to notice the fine details of the wood that had been carved to reflect the faces of the suffering souls that occupied the underworld. Some of the faces had their features scrunched in pain. Others were stretched long, mouths wide open, screaming in agony as waves of hellfire washed over their outreaching arms. Hades always found it a bit dramatic and not at all how he would represent his home, but everyone had said it fit the aesthetic of what was otherwise known as the Hall of Judgement. To break up the intricate and macabre details, panel windows of stained glass were inlaid along the walls. There was one window for each of the Titans, one for each of the Olympians, and several panels dedicated to some of the greater battles that occurred during the Titanomachy.

At the end of the long hall sat a single throne made of what looked like black onyx. Completely dominating the wall behind the throne was a marvelously large rose window that could rival those at some of the most famed cathedrals. It was easily done as Hades had immediate access to Louis Barillet who more than willingly designed the window in exchange for a spot in Elysium. 

The throne on its own was just as intimidating as the room as a whole, and purposefully so. The back was unnecessarily high. It’s highest peak reaching the bottom curve of the rose window. It’s crest rail had several horned peaks that were so aggressively pointed it looked like a person could be impaled on them. Even still, after all of that, the most threatening thing about the lone chair was often the god that sat upon its seat. This was especially the case on this particular day.

In the past, the judgement of souls had been the burden of three. Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus. However, in an effort to make Persephone feel more involved, Hades relieved the trio of their responsibilities quite a long time ago. He’d taken over the important task alongside his wife. It had worked out well for awhile, until she had become disinterested and restless. Preferring to wander the underworld alone instead of staying seated next to him. Hades suspected she just disliked how much time they were spending together. It had been just him taking the brunt of the work for some time before she’d left him. And it was in fact she who left him, despite all of his strongest arguments. For so long he fought to keep her but eventually he just got tired and let her go like she’d always wanted and that was the truth of it. After she’d gone he overburdened himself with work, letting it mask the aching loneliness he felt. Everything had been going smoothly for such a long time, but then he found you.

As Hades sat lazily slumped on his throne, his notebook flipped open on one arm and his own arm hanging down from the other with his fingers loosely holding onto his scepter, he knew he had no one else to blame but himself. No one else to blame for the line of souls waiting for judgement that stretched the entire length of the throne room and then some. No one else to blame because he’d been the one neglecting his duties to spend time with you instead, causing a backlog of unjudged souls. What made things worse for everyone, was that he hadn’t seen you in days. It was nearing a full week since you’d been at the bakery and he had no other real way of contacting you. Every moment that passed without him being able to make you blush over something stupid or every moment that passed without you sassing him so much he wanted to flick your forehead, he became more and more irritable. Everyone could tell he wasn’t in his best mood even if they didn’t know the reason behind it.          

“Next!” Phobos called out as Hades drummed his fingers on the pages of his notebook impatiently.

He’d already sent five souls to Tartarus just for what he’d claimed was ‘speaking out of term’. Though he would argue in his own defense that they had been right on the cusp of being sent there anyway, so it wasn’t as harsh as people were making it out to be. Even still, Eris had become so uncomfortable that he had to leave the hall before his nerves turned into an actual anxiety attack. No one, not even the Personifications would look at or speak to Hades when he was like this. Only the poor souls that were there for judgement were forced to address him and they did so with an almost comedic amount of caution.

Good. He thought grumpily to himself as the next soul in line stepped forward.

“Name!” Phobos called out from his place just off to the side of the throne.

“Jiho.. Woo Jiho.” the man stuttered out. He’d had an air of confidence as he stepped forward but it faltered before the god, they always did.

Hades brow furrowed, the name sounded familiar but he didn’t know why. He flipped the page of his notebook and the page started to fill up with information about the soul before him.

Woo Jiho, twenty-eight. Date of birth, September fourteenth. Date of death, April seventh.

Hades was almost positive he’d read this page before, but had no idea why he ever would have. He thought perhaps he’d been one of the customers in the bakery that he’d recently played his game with. It would be quite the coincidence but he couldn’t think of another reason. He browsed through the list of things Jiho had done in his lifetime.

Petty thievery starting as a child. Money from his mother's wallet, age seven. Candy from a convenience store, age nine.

Common. Boring.  Hades thought to himself. Perhaps that it was why he’d seemed so familiar, he was just like everyone else. He moved his eyes down the page and he let out a long sigh.  Things did get a little more interesting as he got older.

One hundred and eighty-seven acts of infidelity between the ages of sixteen and twenty-eight, most of which were committed against his current partner.

Poor soul, he thought to himself before moving on.

Ten different instances of assault, mostly bar fights but once was against a woman when he was eighteen. There were several instances of blackmail, bribery, and extortion. The list of lies he had told in his lifetime between small white and bold faced was countless. Longer than most people who died at his age. Clearly a master manipulator. Under the list of things that he had done in his life that were considered as redemption there was barely anything. Hades made a half disgusted face and looked up at the man before him, already knowing his fate would be Tartarus, no question.

“What can I do for you, Jiho? Have you come for your judgement?” he asked idly.

“Actually...sir...god...Hades?” he tripped over every word. Hades would have found it much more funny if it didn’t happen nearly every time a soul had addressed him for millenniums, “I was told I could offer you a soul, in place of mine? That you had the power to resurrect my soul.”

“The second soul must be willing.” He said slowly stretching his legs out in front of him and sitting up straight. It had been some time since someone had propositioned him with an exchange. “You know you can’t just offer up someone else’s soul? It’s not how it works.”

“No, of course.” The desperate soul shook his head “There is someone I left back in life and I just know that she would do this for me. I know she would give you her soul in place of mine. No one has ever loved me like she does. I love her too, she’s so loyal, I just need to get to her…”

“I don’t care about your love story, just give me the name so we can find out if she’s willing.”

As he stuttered out the name of the soul he hoped would replace his in death Hades finally, and truly, looked at him. It had been your name that fell from his lips. Surely, he thought, this was a mistake. There had to be at least one other on earth who shared your name, and of course he must be talking about her. It could not possibly be you.

He flipped through his notebook until the pages reflected the name he was looking for. The page that showed your name and whose timeline was connected to Jiho. His heart began to race as his eyes flashed over the page. Age, location, life history. The page he’d read a hundred times already. He couldn’t deny it. It really was you. He gulped as he flipped back and forth between your page and Jiho’s, confirming the relation to each other. His breathing remained steady but it was clear he was upset. Phobos watched wide eyed with fear as Hades whole chest lifted visibly with every heavy breath, subconsciously he leaned his body away from the god.

Hades face was calm and reposed, but his eyes were aflame with unspeakable anger as he looked back up at Jiho. “This woman, the one whose soul your offering me, is she perhaps the same woman that you’ve been unfaithful to, lied to, and had a hand in emotionally abusing for years?”

“Woah, no! I have never laid a hand on her like that. I’m not like that!” he denied vehemently.

Hades sighed with immediate annoyance, his hands vibrating with anger, “That would constitute as physical abuse where I had said emotiontionally, you... moron. And before you deny having done that as well, you should now that I do have a record of every instance of your emotional abuse and manipulation of this woman. Not to mention your counts of infidelity, lies, et cetera.”

“Everyone manipulates people to get what they need and want. That’s just the way the world works. I didn’t do anything that any of these other souls haven’t done.” Jiho argued gesturing to the line behind him.

“Wrong.” Hades lifted his open notebook towards Jiho, “All this girl has ever done is trust you, and try to do right by you. And still you would deny her a future so that you could prolong your own.”

“I mean, I guess so, but she doesn’t know all that stuff that I did! She would definitely be willing to give up her soul for mine and isn’t that what matters anyway? What do you care about morality?”

“Just so we are being clear, even in death, you would manipulate this soul into offering up her life for you just to be set free? I want you to look me in the eyes, not just past my shoulder, which is a cowards trick. And I want you to say to me, very clearly, that you upon her willingness, are offering me this soul in place of yours for all eternity.”

“Well...yeah. She just has to be willing, right? I know she will be, I won’t even have to really do anything.” He said more to himself than anything. He squared his shoulders and looked up at Hades, “I, upon her willingness, offer you this soul in place of mine for all of eternity.”

“As you wish then. Go back to holding and wait for my summons. I will go and retrieve the soul tomorrow. I will bring her back here where you will explain to her the exchange you have propositioned me with. If she agrees, you may go free.” He said with a now barely contained rage. “If she doesn’t agree, then you will wish you’d never asked for the opportunity.”

As Hades watched Jiho get escorted back down the length of the hall and towards holding his nostrils flared and his hands gripped the arms of his throne so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. His back was stiff and he sat forward on the seat as if he was preparing to attack the next thing that moved or spoke.

Deimos cleared his throat from beside the throne, “I can get the soul for you, Hades. It would be my pleasure to assist you.”

“If I wanted you to go, I would have asked you to go. Don’t you think?” Flames were flickering visibly in the darks of his eyes.

“It’s just that,” Hades whipped his head around to Phobos, who was already shaken before and looked, now, like he might truly cry from fear, “you’ve been ‘topside’ so much recently. Surely you wouldn’t want to waste your time on a task one of us could and would happily complete for you.”

“Oh, have I been ‘topside’ too much? Is that what everyone has been talking about while I’ve been away?” He asked looking around the room. There was nobody with the courage to look back at him. “Have you all been very concerned about my whereabouts? Are you all worried that I’ve not been here enough to do my job properly AS THE FUCKING GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD? Everyone here in such a rush to get to Tartarus?”

Many of the souls murmured at that but otherwise the throne room trembled with only the boom of his furious voice. Everyone who stood around him shook their heads in denial and a shaky chorus of “No, sir” rang out around him.

“Good, and now that we’ve cleared that up,” Hades took a long, deep breathe and then let his next words ooze with sarcasm, “I will happily judge this entire line of souls today, if it so pleases the court of Personification. And then tomorrow, I will go get the girl who holds the soul that has been promised to me, because I am Hades and this is still my domain. Does anyone hold issue with that?”

This time no one disagreed.

~

It had been an atypically quiet day at the bakery, which you’d been grateful for. A nice calm way to come back to work after what was essentially a week of laying around in your pajamas crying hysterically for any and every reason until your eyes burned red and the only relief you could find was through sleep. At least the funeral had been nice and you felt like you finally had a little closure which made things slightly more tolerable.

You placed an oversized mug filled with hot coffee and a matching plate with a muffin in the center down in front of a waiting customer who was sitting at one of the tables in front of the large window that opened to the street. When you looked out at the busy sidewalk you felt a spark in your chest as you laid eyes on the one person you’d hoped you’d see all day long.  

Jiyong looked expensive, as usual. Black on black on black on black outfit. From his black blazer to his shiny black wingtips. Sunglasses sat propped on his nose and his hair was slicked back. His undercut looked fresh, like he was just coming from the barber, and it reminded you of the first time he walked into the bakery. His lips were thick and pouty, making him look worried instead of his usual disinterested expression. He had one hand casually in the pocket of his dress pants, and the other was gripping a bouquet of flowers at his side.

You bit your lip, unsure if you should just assume that he’d gotten them for you. Maybe he made another friend over the last week, someone he liked a lot and wanted to give flowers too. The sweet feeling in your stomach turned sour at the idea. When you first saw him he was walking so casually confident towards the bakery. Once he finally got to the door, however, he paused as if he’d just thought about something. You watched curiously as he turned and walked back down the sidewalk a little ways. He tucked the flowers into the skeleton of what used to be a payphone. He nodded to himself and then turned back around making his way to the door once more. This time he got as far as having his fingers around the handle before he shook his head and anxiously turned back around, hurriedly lunging for the flowers before they were snatched up by a passerby.

Now incredibly amused by the show he didn’t realize he was putting on for you, you leaned against an unoccupied table and continued to enjoy. With the flowers back in his hand he looked down at them. It was clear to you that they were brand new, just purchased flowers, still in their plastic sleeve. It seemed he had thought about that too as you watched him tug the flowers out of the cellophane and stuffed the sleeve into the trash near the payphone. For the briefest moment you thought that was going to be it, that he was going to make his way inside for real. Instead he stepped towards the trash and began to pluck out all of the filler foliage, the baby's breath and the fern palms, and shoved them in the trash with the plastic sleeve. Finally it was just the flowers left in his fist. He looked down at them once more, very thoughtfully, and then slammed the bouquet against the side of the payphone for good measure. You bit down on your lip to keep from laughing too hard. Then your whole chest warmed at the realization that for the first time in a week you’d even had the urge to laugh at all.

“Hey stranger, what are you thinking about?” his voice snapped you out of your daze and you looked up at him with a small but very genuine smile.

“Hey, Ji.”

He beamed at the sound of his name on your lips again and shoved the flowers at you quite roughly. “I, uh, found these for you.”

Taking the bouquet from him you fingered one of the red gerberas that had nearly snapped from its stem after the collision with the payphone and was now just sort of dangling sadly.

“Found them,” you asked skeptically, “or bought them?”

“Why would I buy you flowers? And hideous ones at that.” he asked as if it was the most insane thing you’d ever suggested to him.

“Hmm.” you smiled cheekily as you hummed, giving the flowers a sniff,  “Okay, so say you didn’t buy them. What you did do was see a bunch of flowers somewhere...on the ground or poking out of a trash can...wherever. You saw these flowers just waiting to be appreciated and snatched them up, and then thought to yourself with no hesitation, ‘I know exactly who I want to give these to’ and in that moment you thought only of me. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Give them back.” he said and held out his hand, “I think I saw a vagrant outside who I can give them to who would certainly be more grateful than you are.”

“No way!” you turned and hurried away from him to your safe, no customers allowed, space behind the counter. “They’re mine. You found them, just for me, remember?”

“You’re welcome.” he grinned.

“Thank you.” you smiled quite happily as you found a cup that you could put them in that wouldn’t tip over from the weight and filled it with water before dropping them in. “Would you like your usual rocket fuel?”

He leaned against the counter, “Yes, please.”  

“A treat? On me, as a real thank you for the flowers?” you asked.

“No, not today, thank you.”

As well as he was hiding it, he actually felt sick with nerves. He had to find a way to get you to go with him to the underworld but he wanted to gentle about it. It was the reason he was so adamant about being the one to bring you in the first place. Anyone else would have dragged you kicking and screaming, and he could never allow that. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to do it at all. Bringing you there meant ultimately having to explain to you who he was and he was positive that it wouldn’t go over very well. How could it? No matter what it would have to be done because he had been too thoughtless in his anger when he agreed to the deal with Jiho and he never went back on his word. He tried to think of this as a positive, at least you would finally see what a worthless worm your dead boyfriend was.

“Let’s go sit.” you said suddenly pulling him from his thoughts.

He nodded and followed you as you came around the counter. You nodded over to a table against the wall, sitting beneath the painting of Posiedon. You placed his cup in front of one chair and sat down in the other with a deeply exhausted sigh.

“You haven’t been around for a few days. I’ve...missed you.” Jiyong said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. He graced you with a small smile and it really did warm you to see it. “The guy whose been making my drinks for me doesn’t even make fun of me like you do.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that, I had to take some personal days. My boyfriend…” you froze. It happened like that, and often, in an instant you could be teetering on a breakdown. You sat quietly willing the tears that threatened the backs of your eyes to go away.

You looked so tired. Jiyong felt horrible. He wanted to tell you everything, wanted you to know that the man you knew had not been worth the pain you were enduring. He wasn’t worth it in life and was even less deserving in death. Still, he couldn’t just tell you. Delicate, he reminded himself, confess everything slowly and delicately.

“What did he do? Cheat on you or something.” He asked, you said nothing in response, only looked at him with big glistening doe eyes. “Did he break up with you? What...did he die?”

You looked down at your hands on the table. They didn’t feel like your hands, like they were real. None of this felt real. Nothing had felt real for days. Then almost sounding completely out of context you said, “It was a freak elevator accident.”

Still staring down at your hands, you waited for the sound of his laughter. Everyone else you’d had to tell laughed instantly, as if you were undoubtedly joking. You knew it sounded like a lie. What a stupid way for a person to die. So people laughed and would say something like “You’re fucking with me, right?” or “Did Jiho put you up to this? Where is that asshole?” You waited for longer than you expected and still Jiyong did not laugh. Part of you actually thought that when you looked up he would be gone from the table, having left without a word.  When you finally did look up he was still there, looking at you with a genuine concern.

“You don’t think it’s funny?” you asked with a sniff.

“Why would I? You’ve just lost someone you cared very much for. Death isn’t typically a joke for mortals.”

“Everyone laughs when they hear. I laughed.” you admitted, only half hearing his response “When they told me, I laughed. The hospital called and they said...they said he was dead. I laughed and I asked the doctor who he really was, what kind of stupid prank he was playing. Seriously… freak elevator accident! Who dies that way?”

“Nearly fifty people die in elevator related accidents every year, worldwide. You’re less likely to be killed by a shark than an elevator.” Jiyong shrugged and then mumbled, “You’d never know because my brother has a horrible PR team.”

You stared curiously at him, “I-I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He regurgitated the words he knew that most people would say in this sort of situation.

“Are you though?” As hard as he had tried to sound genuine, you saw through it. “You weren’t exactly Jiho’s biggest fan as I remember.”

Jiyong sighed, there was never usually any use in lying to you. It’s why he liked you so much. “I’m not sorry about his death. I am sorry that you’re dealing with the repercussions of having lost a loved one. Especially someone who didn’t earn or deserve the love and care you provided them with in the first place.”

“I missed you.” you said quietly, and you really had. It had been a week and everyone you talked to was exactly the same. Full of pity, lying to make you feel better, treating you like something that would crack and break at the slightest disturbance. You felt like you should have known you could depend on Jiyong to remain brutally honest with you even now. That he would treat you like you were still you. “Why am I not surprised you have no qualms with speaking ill of the dead?”

“Despite popular belief, dying doesn’t change what you did and who you were in life.” he said simply.

“I mean,” you hummed lightly, “it sounds a little harsh when you say it out loud but I suppose it does make sense.”

“I’m pretty smart.” he grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile, however small.

“You’re more cocky than intelligent, sometimes it just works out in your favor.” you joked. He didn’t come back with anything witty like you expected, he just met your gaze. The smile fell from your lips and very seriously you asked, “Can I...confess something to you?”

“Anything.”

You gnawed slightly on your bottom lip nervously for a moment before blurting out the words, “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Jiyong raised his eyebrows in definite surprise. “Did you fuck with the elevator mechanics or something?”

“No, no. I don’t mean intentionally.” You shook your head fervently and swallowed the small lump in your throat, “We got into a fight the night he died. I told him to leave. I locked him out of the apartment. If I hadn’t done that he never would have gone to stay with his friend that night. He never would have been in that elevator.”

His friend. Jiyong held in his urge to scoff. According to his notebook, Jiho’s friend had been the girl he’d been sleeping with behind your back for almost a year now. He contemplated the best way to proceed with the conversation. The guilt you had been feeling was so clear on your face, he couldn’t just dismiss it.

“Have you considered,” He began slowly, “that if he hadn’t been in the elevator that night, that it wouldn’t have malfunctioned? That you were never the catalyst for the accident, he was?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I’m saying that I believe that fate is real. Everything from birth to death is predetermined. Which means even if you hadn’t fought that night and he hadn’t died in a faulty elevator, he would still be dead today. Maybe he would have choked on a crouton or tripped over something and crushed his temple on the kitchen counter.”

“Morbid much?” you commented, still processing his theory.

“I don’t think so. I’m just saying that life is life and death happens. You can’t allow yourself to feel guilt over something that probably would have happened regardless of whatever actions you actually took.”

“I just- I didn’t,” you looked away from him quickly, but he could still see the tremble in your lips and glisten in your eyes from the tears that threatened to fall again.

“What was the fight about?” he asked calmly.

“What?” you were clearly surprised by the question. However your lip stopped trembling and your breathing was less panicked. He’d accomplished what he wanted and you didn’t even realize you’d been distracted.

“You said you two had been in a fight that night. It’s why he left. What was the subject matter of the argument?”

“Oh.” you turned away again, but this time to hide the blush that passed over your cheeks.

“What was it?” Jiyong asked, now completely curious, “You can tell me you think you’re the cause of someone’s death but you can’t tell me what you had fought about? Must have been bad.”

You let out a long slow sigh. “It was you. We were arguing about you.”

One of his flawlessly shaped eyebrows lifted to its highest possible point. “Me? Please, do go on.”

You restrained yourself from your regular eyeroll, “There is this stupid cherry blossom festival every spring. They have it at the friendship gardens just outside of town. I went once, and it was so beautiful and remember thinking how romantic it would be. I had really wanted to go so I asked him if he would take me as a date. We hadn’t been on a real date in such a long time. Which I guess I just assumed was what happens when you’re with someone for so long.”

“He said no?”

“He didn’t even pay enough attention to what I was saying to hear the question.” You could hear the annoyed intake of breath, but Jiyong politely said nothing so you continued. “I got so upset. I said if it was too much to ask for him to make an effort, I would just go alone. And he said, ‘Fine, what do I care if you go alone”. Then I...made a comment about how he should start to care because I was going to ask you to take me instead.”

Jiyong dawned the smallest smile at the thought of you thinking of him taking you out. Somewhere you had just said you thought would be romantic, his heart flipped. He wiped the smile from his face fast enough, realizing that this was not at all the time, and he was serious with you once more. “And that, I assume, got his attention.”

“Big time. He wouldn’t let it go. He kept asking me all these crazy questions. He wanted to know where we met. How long we’d known each other. Why you came around so much…”

“If we’ve ever fucked?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“How’d you guess?”

“They always ask that.” he muttered. Cheaters almost always assumed infidelity. “Of course it would be a concern of physical intimacy, as if emotional attachment isn’t just as significant.”

“Right.” you said looking at him with big eyes, taken back by his comment.

“Not… that I’ve assumed you have an emotional attachment to me. Or that I have one for you…” he spewed out the blantent lie, that neither of you really believed.

“No, right. Of course.” you stuttered out your own words.

The table fell into a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just an awkward energy as the two of you privately tried to decipher your actual feelings towards one another. Jiyong gulped down the rest of his drink, that had gone slightly cold by now, as you picked at something sticking to your apron. The silence lasted long enough for your thoughts to circle back around to Jiho and you felt the overwhelming sadness attempt its return.

“I guess,” you started, “I guess I just wish I’d had the chance to say goodbye and make things right between us.”

This was the opportunity he was hoping wouldn’t come. If there was ever going to be such a thing as a perfect moment this was his. He formed the words inside of his brain, the ones that he would say so simply to anyone else, but because it was you his heart seemed unwilling to release. This was the burden he had placed on himself. As much as he didn’t like it, he still preferred to be the one to do it. He felt you deserved at least that much.

“What if I told you I know how to get to the underworld? Would it interest you to go?” Jiyong asked staring into his now empty mug hoping you’d say no immediately.

You looked at him for a long time without saying a word. When he finally looked up at you expectantly you couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle. “That’s good. That’s a good one. For a second I thought you were serious.”

“I was.” He replied calmly, “I am.”

Suddenly you found yourself uncomfortable and no longer understanding the joke. “That’s not... funny.”

“It’s not meant to be. I can bring you to the entrance of the underworld. Down the river Styx. I can get you passed the main gate and Cerberus. I know a way to get you to Hades palace undetected. It’s safe, most of the journey is through the Fields of Asphodel. If you really wanted me too, I could help you see him again. Possibly even help you free his soul, but ...only if you want to.”

“I-” you scratched the back of your neck, unable to meet his eyes. “I have to get back to work.”

“Y/N…”

You pushed yourself out of the chair, it slid across the polished concrete floor with a loud scraping sound. He watched as you went around the counter and through the swinging doors to the back. His chest felt heavy, you’d never disappeared from him completely like that before. Anger rose up inside him at Jiho and then a fear that he had gone too far, upset you too much. He wasn’t sure how he could have been anymore gentle about it.  

Sitting for a while longer he watched as your coworker helped customers and cleaned around the register while you remained hidden away, but then he decided to give up for the day. It was likely you weren’t coming back out while he was present and he even wondered after a point if maybe you’d left through a back entrance. Standing up he slipped back into his jacket and prepared to leave.

“Jiyong.”

Your voice was soft, but he was sure at this point he’d hear you say his name, that wasn’t even his name at all, from miles away. When he turned around you were standing at the door to the back room. He’d never seen you look so nervous. It almost looked like you were scared of him. For a moment he thought to smile, to try and comfort you, but worried it  wasn’t the right time and would come off creepy. Instead he stood straight faced, hands in his pockets, and waited for you to reach him with your small, uncertain steps.

“I get off work tomorrow at 5.” You said shakily, his eyebrows raised with interest. “Can you take me then?”

“Of course.” He replied. His heart ached slightly. Was it possible that you really loved this man so much you’d offer up your soul for his? He looked down at his polished shoes, “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait.” You said quickly as he looked like he was about to sprint away from you. “Do I need to bring anything?”

He’d wanted to be sarcastic and mean to push you away. He wanted to snap at you and prove to himself that really you meant nothing to him. Your eyes were so big, so beautiful and so filled with sadness that he couldn’t do it. He sighed, “Like what?”

“I don’t know...a passport?” He looked up at you stunned and then realized you’d been joking. You let out a breath of a laugh, “You really thought I was that stupid.”

“No, I’d never think-”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Maybe I am that stupid. I just agreed to let you take me to a place that doesn’t even exist.”

“It does.” He smiled small. “You’ll see. Tomorrow”.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 4: The Universe; Behind the Scenes

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of Past Death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC Additional Tags: Thanos Is A Tool, Influence is Not the Same as Control, God I Want That Bathtub Summary:  Reader learns what she remembers, but not why.

“What the hel was that?” Loki demanded. “She was fine one minute, and then she falls apart over a mere face full of dust? Who does that?”

“I can think of a reason.” Thor said softly.

“Brother?” Thor was rarely introspective, and Loki didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“She’s had a hard day. She will need rest, but I have some questions first. “

“I’m sure we all have.” Loki grouched. “Seems like that’s all we have.”

                                                                                             *****

The bath was nice, though the toiletries all smelled of him. You were surprised by how much mud had gotten in your hair. You weren’t made for such bizarre happenings: magic, and kidnapping gods, and ancient civilizations being built anew. Nothing about today seemed quite real. Even time was wrong. A few hours ago you were clocking in for the morning shift at work. Now the sun hung low in the sky. Evening was coming. You’d lost an entire day. You supposed that made its own kind of sense, since technically, aliens were involved.

Where were you now? This couldn’t be your country. Yes, the U.S. was pretty big, big enough to cover several time zones, but you didn’t think there was any part of the continental United States that was night while another part was morning. You had to be all the way across an ocean, or somewhere similarly as far. What a pity. You would have liked to see that. Flying over an ocean must be beautiful.

The towels were nice, much nicer than you were used to. Everything was probably going to be higher quality than you were used to, since royalty was involved.

How were you supposed to talk to them? There was no real royalty in your country; you didn’t know the etiquette. How did one address a prince? A king? A god?

Someone had taken your clothes while you bathed. Of course you couldn’t put them back on while they were still so filthy, but it made you feel vulnerable all the same. The tunic you had been provided in their place did not fit correctly at all; it was too loose in the shoulder, too long in the arms, and too tight in the hips. This was obviously a man’s garment, olive green and incredibly soft. You didn’t want to think about it. At least the provided slippers fit correctly. Your legs remained mostly bare, but you didn’t think they were all that much to look at anyway. The tunic was made for someone taller than you, so it covered enough.

This little set of rooms was odd to you. Like a whole house inside of another building. Here a bath, there a library, there and there a bedroom. And when you tried to leave back out into what you thought was the main corridor, there was a young man in armor there to stop you. He was polite, but he spoke a language you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry.” You told him. “I don’t understand.” He led you back into the library and pointed at a chair. “Oh, I get it. Sit down and wait, huh? I can do that.”

He waited until you had gotten yourself seated before going back to his post. He must have had orders not to let you leave. Annoying, but fair; they wouldn’t want you running off, and after that small panic attack earlier, it might not be safe for you to wander around without a guide.

You started browsing through the books, but most of them were in unfamiliar languages. When Loki came to collect you, you were going through illustrations and diagrams that you couldn’t read, but found interesting nevertheless. You looked up from a beautiful drawing of a huge tree with little worlds hanging it its branches, and he was just there.

“Uh…How long-“ You began.

“You make so many little noises when you read. Do you fear silence, or are you simply that lacking in self-awareness?”

“It’s just a habit.” You said defensively. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“You live completely alone. Who is there to complain? You will have to break that habit while you are within these walls. We cannot have incessant noise disturbing our guards, or my contemplations.”

You turned back to the illustrations, cheeks burning slightly. So it was just a little habit! It wasn’t that big a deal.

“You say it like we’ve gotta be joined at the hip all the time, but that’s obviously not the case, because I just had a nice bath without you. So unless you were waiting just outside the door-which would be creepy-then I’m sure my ‘incessant noises’ won’t be as big a problem as you’re making them out to be. “

You both let the moments pass in increasingly uncomfortable silence.

“I was harsh with you.” It was a statement, not an apology, but also probably the closest you were ever going to get.

“You were. I was…rude.” You conceded. You really must have crossed a line when you called him a monster. You had let your temper and fear run off with you.

“You were.” He agreed. “You were frightened. It’s only natural. And I was…frustrated. But that time is passed, and now the time has come for greater things.” He beckoned for you to follow him, and you did, curiosity growing.

Where could you possibly be going now? Some kind of magical laboratory, to run tests on your rune? A spiritual center, to meditate on this magical connection that sapped or restored energy based on how close the two of you were? A medical area, where they might operate on your hand to learn more about it?

“Where are we going?” You asked softly.

“Dinner.” He said airily, and you snorted. Greater things, huh? Still, something as mundane as dinner sounded amazing right now. You’d technically gone the whole day without eating. Something mundane sounded very nice right about now. You might not get that again for some time.

He looked oddly normal as well, which struck you as strange. It somehow never occurred to you that he didn’t look the same all the time. But all you’d ever had for reference was video footage of the battle. He wore armor to intimidate, horns to add height. Not that he needed it. The top of your head barely reached his shoulders. You would have never expected someone like him to even have casual clothes, if all those pin-tucks and diagonal shapes counted as casual. You tried to ignore the similar shapes on the ill fitted tunic you currently wore.

It was hard to believe how much different he looked without that helmet. How much the sharpness of his face was softened by letting his hair fall lose around his shoulders.

“Like something you see?” He asked. “You’re staring, you know.”

“Sorry.” You said, embarrassment creeping in. “It’s just that you look…”

He turned to watch you, the corners of his mouth lifting, ever so slightly. “Yes?”

“You look like a man.”

He paused, the tiny smile fleeing. “As opposed to a monster?” Then he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up.

“That’s not what I-“

“Oh don’t worry.” He cut you off. “After all, I’ve never shown this world anything different.”

“Lo-“ You started, then held your tongue. No, you couldn’t call him by name. You weren’t friends. Whatever reasons he might have had, he was the architect of a major disruption in your life. There was no way you had a job anymore, and if you ever got home, you probably wouldn’t have your apartment either. Your houseplants were going to die. Your friends and father, and coworkers had no idea you were still alive. And all of this was quite literally by his hand.

How were you supposed to address him?

“Your…Highness?” You tried, and he made an affirming noise. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Yes.” He said, and nothing else. It took you a moment to realize he was doing that obnoxious thing some teachers do in order to amend their students’ grammar.  How annoying.

“Please tell me where we are, your highness.” You said in a voice pitched higher than normal. Years of working in retail with difficult customers gave your demeanor a false show of being chipper. He noticed instantly, giving you a strange look.

“Within the kingdom of Asgard, but you would know this island as Iceland.”

“Iceland? How did-how am I-I…I’ve never been to Iceland.” You spluttered lamely. You had never been so far from home in your life. You’d never really wanted to. You were well and truly trapped, weren’t you? If you found that you really needed to leave, there really was nowhere for you to run. Even if you could make it out of the unbuilt city, you didn’t know where any other towns were. You wouldn’t be able to speak to any people you might find.  They would know you shouldn’t be there, see that you had no passport, no identification. They’d haul you right to jail. That was all that awaited you outside the city. Death in a foreign landscape, or prison.

“Oh god, I’m an illegal immigrant.” You murmured.

“What are you talking about?” He led you into a large room with a huge table in the center, and then right past that table, and into a much smaller room, with a much smaller table, set with three dinners, and furnished with the king of Asgard.

“Yes.” He asked. “What are we talking about?”

“I don’t have a passport! I’m illegal, I’ll be put in jail!

Thor shrugged. “You’re a guest of the Crown, at least for a little while. You don’t have to worry about it. Sit with us; eat. Ease your worries. We’re going to take care of you.”

You took a seat opposite Thor; Loki sat next to you, not, as you expected, next to his brother. It almost felt like they were fencing you in, putting themselves between you and the door. Or between you and anyone who might come through the door.

The food was simple, and looked good, if a little unfamiliar. A bowl of hearty stew, full of vegetables and tasting of herbs your tongue had never met. A little pot of creamy white stuff, topped with orange sauce that turned out to be sweet instead of spicy. A chunk of something that was trying to be bread but was actually dried fish that you were supposed to spread butter on as if it was bread. And a glass of strong cider that you had trouble actually drinking. Alcohol was usually too pricy for you, and so you never drank much.

It was warm, and it was good, and it was what your body, confused by time zones, desperately needed. You ate every bit, even the buttered fish. But you said nothing, not until Thor addressed you directly.

“I know you have had a very rough day, and I know you must be tired and confused, but would you be willing to entertain a few questions?”

What choice did you have? He was right about being tired; the hot food and cider had hit you pretty hard. But it wasn’t like you could just tell him to go stuff it either, could you? You put your customer service face back on.

“Sure, ask away!”

He raised one eyebrow at the fake cheer in your voice, but made no comment on it.

“I’d like to assure you that we keep this place very clean. No dust, unless you go near construction zones. But, if it’s not too uncomfortable, could you tell us why you reacted like that? So we can keep you safer in the future.”

Damn. You should’ve known they wouldn’t let that go. Six months ago, you had been sure he would have an answer for you; now you just didn’t know. Would he think you were crazy too? But he was a god; was it possible to lie to a god?

“I’ll know if you’re lying.” Loki said, as if hearing your thoughts.

“There’s no need for threats.” Thor chided him.

“I wasn’t.”

“If you are comfortable talking about it.” Thor concluded.

“It’s difficult.” You said. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I kinda do, and I have for a long time. But it seems like some great big secret that I can’t bring up, because most people don’t believe me, and the ones that do are sort of paranoid of being thought crazy. Look, something happened about a year and a half ago, except it didn’t, but it did. And I know you probably won’t believe me, but-“

“Half your world turned to dust.” Thor said grimly. “People, plants, animals, everything. And then it all went back to normal, as if nothing happened. But not for you. In the time between the two events, you suffered. You mourned. You struggled and starved. And now you remember, when it seems no one else does.”

Loki stared at you. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

You had gone very still and very pale as Thor spoke out that list of everything you had gone through.

“I knew it.” You whispered. “I knew it. I knew it was real. That many people couldn’t have the same hallucination. I knew you knew something!”

Thor nodded, still looking very serious.

“That’s why I went to the tower in the first place! That’s why I tried to approach you! I knew one of you knew something!”

“But the spell-“ Loki began.

“What happened?” You demanded, excitement overcoming your sleepiness.

“It’s a lengthy tale, if you’re up for it.” Thor warned, but you only nodded in enthusiasm.

“Very well. It begins when the universe does.” Wow, he wasn’t kidding.

“Thor, are you sure this is a good idea?” Loki broke in.

Thor shrugged. “Looks like something went wrong. She’s not supposed to remember, but she does.”

“That spell was cast for a reason.” Loki protested.

“Which do you suppose was worse? Being one of the lives initially lost, or being one of those left behind to live in that broken universe? Do you know what that was like? Being the only one left? I say she deserves an answer. “

Loki rolled his eyes. “No, if you recall, I was dead at the time. Whatever, tell her what you will, but I’ll not be taking responsibility when it blows up in your face.”

“Wait, you…you died? Did you turn to dust too?” That even happened to the gods?

“Not exactly,” He muttered. “It was more of a hand’s on experience.”

“He was very brave.” Thor said.

“I was very foolish.” Loki retorted, but he looked more proud than angry.

“What happened?” You asked again.

“Yes, the story. Directly after this universe came into being, there also spawned a handful of concepts; embodiments of the things that make up the universe and everything in it. These things were given physical forms, shaped into shining gems of incredible power. Wars were fought over them, and with them, but only certain powerful individuals can actually use them. I have a friend who has seen what happens when someone who is too weak tries to handle one. Not pretty, apparently. However, Loki has used two of them before.”

Pride colored those last words, and Loki looked unsure of how to take being bragged about.

“For certain definitions of ‘used’, I suppose.”

“There was someone else who wanted them, a homicidal lunatic, name of Thanos. An absolute waste of space who brought nothing to the universe but mountains of corpses. Twisted. Worthless. Seems like all he could do was destroy. The Chitauri invasion? That was him.”

“That was him.” You pointed at Loki.

“Certain definitions of used.” He repeated.

You looked back and forth between the brothers. “What are you trying to tell me here?”

“He used the Mind Stone.” Thor said. “While at the same time, it used him. It affected everyone around it.”

“Wait, you mean mind control?” You asked, shocked by this revelation. “These things have their own will? Why haven’t you told anyone? Everyone thinks-“

“Do not mistake me.” Loki interrupted. “No matter how much my brother would like to paint me as an innocent in this, I still did what I did. Those were my actions and my decisions. One can very easily be a victim, and be guilty at the same time. Take it as a demonstration of what I am capable of, just not everything that I am.” He sighed, but his expression remained neutral.

“It is however, correct to think that, without Thanos, without the influence of that stone, I don’t think I would have done any of it. But I did, and there is no way to erase that. Do not make of me something I am not. I was the person who did all those things. But I am not now, and will not be again.”

“I don’t know what to think about this.” You said, but internally you were a bit relieved. You hadn’t actually stopped being frightened of him, but it was very reassuring to know that all that malice, all that bigotry and hatred hadn’t all been him. If his words could be trusted, anyway. Thor wasn’t objecting though, so maybe he really was on the level.

“He did take his stand against Thanos though.” Thor continued. “We all did; heroes of Earth, of Asgard, of the stars. And every last one of us failed. Most of us died, either in his quest for the stones, or in the event he caused. He came into possession of all of the stones, which allowed him to reshape the universe as he wanted it to be. “

“Which was…nearly empty?”

“He was a madman. He was obsessed with his savior complex, but his bloodlust was far greater, and I think he forgot how to separate the two. So yes, instead of thinking up ways to change reality for the better, he felt the logical choice was to kill everybody.”

“He had no creativity or finesse, unless he was causing harm.” Loki muttered.

“Now this is the part I really can’t tell you about, which is a shame, because it was amazing. However, because of the forces involved, the fewer people who ever know about it, the better. But we few survivors took our battle to reality itself, and we succeeded. We regained what Thanos took from us, and erased his nightmarish vision of the universe.”

“Before separating the stones and returning them to their proper guardians, the sorcerers among us used them to cast a spell over everything and everyone; that none save those of us involved should have any memory of the event we erased. We wanted to undo that suffering, but we also wanted to prevent mass searches for the stones. We can’t risk it happening again.”

“Then how come I remember?” You asked. There was much more mystery surrounding you right now than you were comfortable with.

“That is an excellent question!” Thor said. “And since you don’t seem to have any answers for us yourself, we will simply have to add it to the pile of things we have to figure out.”

“I would like to have answers too, but right now, I’m so tired.” An involuntary yawn punctuated your words. “Pardon me.”

“Yes, of course.” Thor said. “Loki will take you to bed.”

“Absolutely not!” You screeched.

“Phrasing!” Loki snapped.

Thor looked like he was having a very hard time not laughing, which you didn’t appreciate at all. That was a terrifying prospect, and one you were not in the least willing to entertain. Loki looked perturbed as well, so at least you were both on the same page.

“I’m sorry, ____, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” A little laughter did escape him, fueling your annoyance. It wasn’t a laughing matter. Neither of these men had better start getting ideas. Just because they were divine rulers didn’t mean they could take liberties. You still had rights. Didn’t you?

“Buffoon.” Loki grumbled. “Come. I’ll see you to your room.”

You got to have your own room? That sounded promising. You followed along behind him, sleepy and quiet, swimming in the events of the day. It was all so much to take in, but maybe sleeping on it would help. Loki led you back to the set of rooms you’d earlier had your bath in, letting you inside and addressing the young man standing guard at the door. You couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the young man seemed mildly confused and upset. He kept shooting you curious looks, and eventually he patted you reassuringly on the shoulder, and nodded at you. Then he went into the smaller of the two bedrooms, gathered his things, and left. He even waved at you on his way out, as if he was trying to convey no hard feelings without being able to actually speak to you.

“Uh…Your Highness? Did I just kick that guy out of his room?” You asked, feeling very guilty.

“No.” Loki assured you. “These rooms are mine, and I decide who may use them, and for how long. There is room for him in our guardhouse, it was just more convenient for him to be close by. Now it is more convenient for you to be here.”

“Because we don’t know how far apart we can be, or for how long. I get it.” There wasn’t much in the room; a bed, a desk with a chair, a small dresser, and one window. The floor and walls were bare, and there was one lamp on the desk, but no other lights. Well, you didn’t need much right now, and you owned practically nothing here, not even the shirt on your back, so this was much better than you had feared it would be.

“I feel like we can probably have a respectable distance between us, just not miles, and certainly not an entire ocean. However, I also feel like we should sleep closer together. Partly for your own safety, and partly because it seems to me that the focus of this draining sickness was our mutual dreams. “

He took a seat in the chair while you crawled into the plain little bed.

“Will you tell me about them?” He asked. “I know we were both having dreams, and I think we were connected through them, but you said yours were nightmares. Mine were not. I wonder about the differences.”

“Ugh. They weren’t anything complicated, but they were always the same. There was this big blankness that I just wanted to sink into so that I could finally rest, but you wouldn’t let me. You just kept dragging me away, and you wouldn’t let me sleep. You were scary, and it was torture, not being able to rest.”

He nodded slowly, writing something down in a small notebook you were sure he hadn’t had just a second before.

“Mine were…similar, but the perspective was different. That void was death, and I was compelled to keep you from it.”

“Do you think we’ll still dream?” You asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Right. Can you, uh…”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He left, closing the door behind him. You might have heard the lock turn, but you were already drifting off.

                                                                      *********

The void beckoned you, a promise of rest and freedom, but now you knew it might not be as benign as it seemed. Loki clutched your arm, frightening with his horns and cold eyes, but now you knew he might not be as malign as he seemed. You spent the rest of your dream there, between two deceivers, not sure which one to choose.

[darlingpetao3]

Primrose Path (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 10)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When you, a lovely florist, move to Central City to open your flower shop, you had no idea you’d fall for such a complicated and dangerous man who deals in a less-than-legal business. Harrison Wells - a major player and powerhouse within the underground mafia world of the region - sweeps you off your feet as you quickly become his greatest weakness.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of War, Coarse Language, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Deaths

Tag List: @aryaarathornson @cursedfaechild @jadedragon1903 @disneyoncerlover815 @child-of-winter-1215 @thecaptainsgingersnap @miss--mercy @fireboltrose7559 @xccentriktigress @12monkees  (please check to see if your Tumblr settings are set to receive mentions from us for future tag related purposes!)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9)

It doesn’t even feel like you and Harry have been together for five months. Instead, it feels both like it was just yesterday you met and as if you’ve known him your entire life.

Over the next few weeks, you start moving your things into Harry’s house, getting comfortable in this new arrangement. This is by far the most serious relationship you’ve ever had and moving in with Harry was a big step, but one that you were incredibly willing to make.

The day after he’d asked you, Harry cleared half of his suit-filled walk-in closet for you to use so that his tailored jackets and silk shirts now hung opposite your clothes that you’d brought over, and some that Harry had bought for you as a ‘moving in gift’. Even this relatively small gesture made your heart soar and you ended up giving Harry a huge bear hug to show your appreciation which made Harry smile broadly too.

To say you two were in the honeymoon phase of your relationship was an understatement. Everything between you was effortless, and you feel high on love. His love. And Harry has so much to give.

In fact, your relationship had progressed even further - around the same time as your moving in. When Harry first brought up the idea about ditching the condoms during sex, you couldn’t deny you were a little startled and embarrassed at the thought. You had supposed it made sense, though. You were in a committed relationship, and with the added gift of heightened pleasure of skin on skin for you both, it was definitely up for discussion. Harry grinned like a madman when you reminded him that you hadn’t been sexually active with another man before him, evidently relishing in that fact. But his good mood hadn’t stopped you from fidgeting when you confessed that you would like a test to determine that you were both healthy. You knew he hadn’t been in a relationship for a while, but you didn’t know if he’d taken any lovers before you, but he agreed eagerly, putting your peace of mind to the top of his priorities, and the day after your awkward but informative talk about protection, you both went to get tested.

You had already started taking birth control pills since before Harry had first told you he loved you when the pair of you were becoming serious. You wanted to be prepared just in case. And when your tests came back issuing both clean bills of health, it was mutually decided the latex protection would no longer be needed in the bedroom.

Or literally anywhere else, for that matter.

And oh Lord, were you glad you both decided to do this because after testing out the new sensation of Harry’s hard, bare cock sliding into you, you finally knew now the meaning of ecstasy. You and Harry were sure to repeatedly test this revelation over the course of the weeks of moving you into his place in a steamy, intense love romp.

At present, Harry is having a post-sex shower as you browse your enormous walk-in closet of its seemingly endless articles of clothing gifted to you by him. They range from sweet and demure to dangerously sexy and scant. You still haven’t tried on the latter pieces yet. Those ones still make your heart race

About to emerge from the grandiose walk-in closet in a more modest-looking black nightgown, you stop short at something catching your eye. You notice a small picture frame peeking out from one of Harry’s drawers that isn’t fully closed. Your hands move of their own accord and reach for the frame to help you get a better look at the person in the photo. It’s a young girl. She looks to be around twelve years old at the most. Her hair is a dark curly brown, wild and in her face as if she’d been running. Rosy cheeks, a little button nose, and beautiful green eyes.

“Um, Harry?” you call towards to the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He walks out of the ensuite while towelling his wet locks. You turn the photo to face him.

“Who is this?”

“Oh…” Harry says awkwardly while scratching his head.

“Oh? I find a picture of a little girl you’ve never mentioned before in your drawer and all you have to say is ‘oh’? Harrison, I thought we promised each other no more secrets between us…?” He stands there a moment longer as if thinking of what to say next.

“(Y/N), why don’t you sit down?” You frown and press your lips together, but take his suggestion and sit on the bed. Harry does the same, taking the frame from you and not taking his eyes off the photograph.

“This is my daughter,” he says, now handing it back over to you. “Her name is Jesse. She’s the brightest person I’ve ever known and I’m nothing but proud.”

“How old is she?” you ask quietly.

“Jesse’s eighteen now and she can be a bit headstrong and stubborn, but she undoubtedly got that from me.” Harry blows air out through his nose in a small laugh. The way he looks when he talks about her… You wonder why he never has.

“Why was this hiding in your drawer?” you ask.

“I wasn’t hiding her from you if that’s what you’re thinking.” Remaining silent, you let him continue, “We had an argument a long time ago. Well, arguments plural. Jesse planned to go off with West’s boy. To travel or something of the sort. She got the wandering from her mother… my late-wife.”

“Harry, I’m-”

He waves you off. “Cancer. Jesse was six. It was a rough time. I was fighting in South America when she passed and Detective West took Jesse in while I was away. It wasn’t much longer after that I returned home. But, I digress. I wasn’t having my daughter run off to God knows where with the West boy, so I told her she couldn’t. That it wasn’t safe for her to leave. But did she listen?”

“No?”

“No. That’s exactly right. After that, I couldn’t bear to stare at the picture of my little girl anymore without feeling too much. I didn’t want to think about what I’d lost to the unknown, so I hid it away.”

“But she’s fine, right? There’s nothing to worry about? She’s a Wells after all.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard from her since that day. Over a year ago.”

He hasn’t seen his own daughter in over a year?

You remain quiet and look down at your twiddling thumbs.

“My... my late-wife had to convince me to have a child, you know?” Harry continues to confess. “I was too preoccupied at the time to even consider it, bettering myself in the field of scientific advancements. But she had her ways of convincing me. And when it happened, when Jesse was finally born, she was my life. She was so tiny and had these enormous eyes. Quick learner, too. I couldn’t wait until she was old enough to teach her everything I knew. To bounce these theories I always have off of her. Maybe even to work alongside her one day. But that was the thing... she did get old enough. She did grow older, and soon, I didn’t want her to anymore. Things were so much easier when she was small and wide-eyed and didn’t have this insatiable need to gallivant across North America with some boy without bothering to call me back-”

You put a hand on his arm.

“-Harry.”

“Sorry. But God, what I wouldn’t give to savour the time I had with her when she was younger instead of...”

“Wishing for her to grow up?” Harry nods. This obviously isn’t easy to talk about for him. As he said, Jesse is his life. She’s all he had left after his wife passed. It’s understandable that he would cling to her like his life depended on it.

“I just wish you had told me about her,” you say, leaning into him to snuggle. “Anyone that’s important to you is important to me.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I’m sorry. And maybe subconsciously I didn’t want to scare you away with the fact that I had a daughter.”

“You think that would have scared me? Oh, Harry… Never. After all I’ve learned about you? I’m. Still. Here.”

“You are.” Harry holds you close. “You are still here and most of the time I still can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Mister. And I am not going anywhere.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Long-Distance Call- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Later on, back at the motel room, Sam was sitting on the bed, done with his part to find out where the phone number came from. Dean was on the laptop, trying to figure out who Linda was, or is. You, on the other hand, were beat. You sat next to Dean and with your head on his shoulder, watched him browse the internet for Linda. Sooner or later, he found her.

“Did you find her yet?” Sam asked, half laying on the bed while the TV was playing in the background.

“Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So, what happened?”

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben survived she didn’t.” You answered for Dean.

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam asked, sitting up and turning off the TV.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why is she still floating around?” Dean asked, sighing as he leaned back. You slid your hand down his arm and grabbed his hand, sliding your fingers through his. He looked over at you and pressed his lips to your forehead before looking at his brother.

“You got me.” Sam sighed.

“What about caller ID? Anything?” You asked.

“Well, turns out, it’s an actual phone number.”

“No phone number I've ever seen.” Dean added.

“Yeah, because it's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” You asked.

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“How the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over 100 years old?” Dean asked.

“That was my first thought too but turns out there is a phone company that does all this right here in town. It’s a popular company too so we just dress like we’re from HQ and let’s go see where this number came from.” Sam said, getting up and grabbing his Fed clothes. You sighed and let go of Dean, getting up to do the same.

Arriving at the phone company place, you met a man who would escort you down to the basement where you would get to meet the person who would trace the call. Immediately upon meeting the man, you got a weird vibe from him. You didn’t know if it was because you were stressed about Dean’s situation or it was something else but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“We don't get many folks from HQ down here.” The man said, guiding you down the hall.

“Yes, well the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch.” Dean said with a smirk and when the man’s back was turned, Sam gave him a bitch face. Dean shrugged but followed the man. You still hadn’t said a word.

“Well I'm sure we can arrange something. The man you wanna be speaking to is right this…” The man trailed off. Sam swatted at a fly that was buzzing around and the man sighed. “I know, sorry. We've got something of a hygiene issue down here if you ask me.”

“Stewie?” The man called out once you got to an office of some kind. You walked through the door and bit back a smile when you saw the man at the computer, the man who would be helping you, had multiple popups of porn sites. “What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?”

Stewie jumped at the intrusion and began closing the porn sites quickly but they just kept popping back up. You cleared your throat and looked at the brothers who were also amused. You looked at the manager and you lost your smile. You glared slightly at him because you wanted him to know you didn’t like him.

“Spam mail... spam mail…” Stewie muttered. “I don't know how all this got here…” The manager reached out and flicked Stewie’s head, making the startled man jump and turn around in his chair.

“Stewie, this is Mr. Randall, Mr. Baker and Ms. Press. From headquarters.” The manager introduced you and the Winchesters. You looked at Stewie who awkwardly crossed his legs as if to hide his obvious erection.

“Give these folks whatever they need.” The manager ordered and Stewie nodded, flustered.

“Thank you.” Dean said with a tight smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam echoed his brother. The man smiled and left the room. You bit your lip and looked out the room to watch the man walk away. What was so weird about him? Was he the monster in the case? You would have gotten a more profound vibe from him if he was. There was just something off about him.

Just as the man got to the corner, he turned his head and made eye contact with you, as if he knew you were watching him. You glared at him and you could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face right before he disappeared around the corner. You cleared your throat and turned back to the brothers and the pervert.

“So... can I help you?” Stewie asked.

“Is that, ahhh, BustyAsianBeauties.com?” Dean asked with a smirk, now that the manager was gone. You rolled your eyes and slapped his arm lightly.

“Come on, Dean.” You whispered so that only he heard.

“No.” Stewie said quickly just as a woman on the screen began talking.

“Oh, me so horny.” Stewie turned in his chair and quickly closed out of the porn site.

“Maybe.” Stewie said.

“A word to the wise? Platinum membership? Worth every penny. Ha?” Dean smirked and you looked at him, not amused.

“You want to lose the real thing?” You asked him and he instantly lost his smirk. That’s what you thought.

“Right, anyway, we’re here to trace a number.” Sam said, handing Stewie a piece of paper.

“Where did you get this?” Stewie asked, looking at the number.

“Off caller ID.”

“Oh no, that’s impossible.”

“It hasn’t been used in a few years, we know.” Dean responded.

“A few years? It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody is using this number anymore.”

“Sure, could you run it anyway?” Sam asked, not caring about his excuses for the number.

“Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first.” Stewie responded snarkily. You glared at him, annoyed at everything today. You didn’t know why your patience was like this but you didn’t have time for bullshit.

“Listen, uh, Stewie?” You said, moving closer to him. “You got like six kinds of employee code violations down here, not to mention the sickening porn that is clogging up your hard drive. Now, when my partner says run the number, I suggest you run the damn number!” All three of you gave Stewie a hard look and he sighed, turning back to his console.

“Okay, whatever, jeez!” Stevie grumbled. You rolled your eyes out of annoyance and watched him work. You felt Dean’s hand on your shoulder but you shrugged him off. Just as you did that, a long list of numbers appeared on Stewie’s computer.

“Holy shit.” He muttered.

“What?” You asked.

“I can't tell you where the number comes from, but I can tell you where it's been going.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. Stewie printed the screen and handed the paper to Sam, avoiding your gaze.

“Ten different numbers in the past few weeks, all got calls from the same number.” He looked between you, Sam and Dean. You nodded and looked at the brothers who looked back at you.

“Thanks, Stewie.” Sam said.

“So, are we done here? Cause I was… sort of… busy?” Dean smirked at this and you sighed, leaving the room in annoyance. You didn’t know why you were being this way. Immediately, the Winchesters were on your tail as you left Stewie’s office and also the building.

“Wait, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Dean stopped you from walking.

“Sorry, Dean, I am just very annoyed. I don’t know why I’m like this. Everything seems to be annoying me.” You sighed and looked at him.

“Okay, well, we have a list of addresses and names on this list so we should split up and see if anyone has seen or heard anything weird.” Dean said, taking the paper from Sam’s hand and taking a picture of it on his phone. You did the same before handing the paper back to Sam.

“Okay, we’ll meet up back at the motel later, okay?’ You said, walking away before anyone else could say something. You heard both brothers sigh and you thought you were alone until a hand stopped you from walking. You looked back to see Dean and you bit your lip.

“Sorry, okay? It’ll pass and I’ll be back to normal.” You started to say but you were cut off by his lips on yours. You welcomed them, not knowing when kissing him would be your last time. You reached up and gripped the front of his shirt tightly as you kissed him back. He knew what was bothering you and once he pulled away, he smiled gently.

“You’re going to be okay.” He tried to assure you.

“Am I?” You whispered before clenching your jaw. You sighed and got out of his grip before leaving his side. You didn’t look back as you walked down the street to the first address on the list. This was going to be a long day, you just knew it.

You’ve checked about 5 houses but no one had heard anything weird or seen anything weird. You were just about to give up and go back to the motel room when you approached the last house. You sighed and walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man opened the door and you noticed a 6 or 7-year-old boy standing by his feet.

“Yeah?” The man asked.

“Hello sir, I am with the phone company?” You started to say but he frowned in confusion.

“We didn’t call the phone company.”

“Oh no, sir, we’re calling you. We’ve had a lot of complaints from the neighborhood lately.”

“Complaints?” He asked.

“Yes sir. Dropped calls, static, maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line?” You noticed a teenage girl appear behind her dad and at your words, she looked startled. Maybe you shouldn’t be talking with the man, you should be talking with her, judging by the look on her face.

“No, we haven’t had any of that here.” The man said.

“Nothing?” You asked, looking at him than at the girl who made eye contact with you.

“No.”

“Okay, great, just thought we’d check. Thanks.” You smiled at him.

“No problem. Come on, Simon.” The man said to you before talking to his son. As the door closed, you made eye contact with the girl who looked startled. You kept it until the door closed. You sighed and turned around, walking away from the house. That girl knew something and you needed to know what she knew but you didn't know how to approach the subject.

“No way you work for the phone company.” You turned around and saw the teenage girl standing behind you.

“Sure I do.” You smiled at her.

“Since when does a phone girl wear a cheap suit or have a gun strapped to her hip?” She said and you blushed slightly, pulling your jacket closer. You’d figure having your gun strapped to your hip would be better instead of behind your back where it would be more noticeable.

“Yeah, well, maybe we’re both keeping secrets.” You said to her.

“Why did you ask my Dad if he's hearing strange voices on the phone?”

“Why, did you hear something?” You asked and she immediately answered and you knew she had.

“No.”

“My mistake, I thought you did.” You said, giving her a second chance to tell you but she didn’t take it.

“Well, I didn't, okay?” She said defensively. You smiled at her and nodded.

“Okay, sorry to bother you,” The girl just stood there, looking uncomfortable. She had something to say and you wanted her to know you were someone you could trust. “Because you know, if you did, then I would have told you that I've been right where you're standing right now. Hearing things, even seeing things that can't be explained. Maybe I would have been able to help out a little bit. Anyway…”

“Hey, wait,” She said just as you turned away. “Maybe… maybe I’ve been talking on the phone… with my mom.”

“That’s not so strange.” You said.

“She’s dead. Like three years now.”

“How often does she call you?” You asked.

“A few times. It started a week ago. I thought I was like, crazy or something.”

“I can tell you one thing for sure, and you're going to have to go with me on this, okay? You're not crazy. Here, take this and if she calls again, call me. Me and my partners know a little something about this kind of stuff. You can trust us...” You handed her a card and she took it hesitantly.

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“Just doing my job.” You winked at her before turning and walking away from her. You didn’t have a car to get anywhere so you had to walk. Good thing you opted to wear your flats instead of your heels. You took out your phone and dialed Sam who picked up on the third ring.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, this caller has been calling everyone in this town. People didn’t have to tell me for me to know. Perks of being a witch or something. I know when people are lying.”

“I don’t envy you.” Sam chuckled.

“Did Dean find anything?”

“Unless you count an old woman having phone sex with her dead husband, no.”

“Great. I just talked with this girl who said she’s been having conversations with her dead mom of three years. I told her if she calls again, to call me. Other than that, I got nothing.”

“Okay, I’ll call you later with what I find.”

“Okay, bye.” You said before hanging up. Just as you put your phone back in your pocket, it began ringing again. You sighed and took it out again and without looking at the caller ID, you answered it, thinking it was Sam.

“Yeah, what?’ You asked but there was nothing on the other line except static.

“Sam? Dean?” You asked but no one answered you. You were about to hang up but you heard the one voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Y/N?” Your mom said on the other line. You stopped walking and got tears. “Y/N is that you?”

“Mom?” You asked, your voice wavering. As quickly as the call came in, it stopped just like that. You heard nothing on the other line and you looked at your phone but it didn’t show any signs of being on a call. You let a tear fall but quickly wiped it away. You had to get to the motel room now. You shot a text to the brothers before making your way to the room.

Get back NOW.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

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[carokamiya]

Got tagged #2

Thanks @icantkarion, dear dear Kari 😘

Sooo let's go !

1. Are you named after anyone ?

Well not really. "Caro" is short for "Caroline", which is just a name both my parents agreed on if the baby (me) would be a girl, so here is my name. I actually like it very much.

2. When was the last time you cried ?

Um. Good question. I shed a few tears here and there on a very emotional video scene/music. And I did cry a lot last August because of personnal stuff.

3. Do you have kids ?

I don't. I have two potted plants near me though. Those are my babies.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot ?

I love sarcasm. I am a very sarcastic person and I enjoy it quite a bit.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people ?

I think the outfit first, like a colourful dress or a funny/nerdy t-shirt. Then the eyes.

6. What's your eye color ?

Green, with a bit of brown in the middle, around the pupil.

7. Scary movie or happy ending ?

Depend on the kind of movie for the happy ending. I don't like romance stuff, but I really like fantasy/sci-fi/action movies. So I will pick scary movie for this one.

8. Any special talent ?

Well I DO have some kind of really good memory, but for stuff even I don't understand. For example I can give you the name of the two main protagonists of a movie I watched once 15 years and more ago, and I don't even know why. Same goes for some things I learned once by reading an article on some subject or whatever. It's not always the case, thank god or nooo but it happens.

9. Where were you born ?

In a town in France, near Switzerland ;) héhéhé. On aime nos fromages et nos charcuteries par chez nous !

10. What are your hobbies ?

Lazying around in confortable clothing with a cup of tea and reading. Listening to my music. Browsing and buying goodies and mangas. Watching let's plays of video games and playing video games.

11. Do you have any pets ?

Do my plants count ? No ? Then no. Back to my parent's there is an adorable cat but she's not mine. I wish I had one but my appartement isn't suited for pets.

12. What sports do you play/have you played ?

Back in high school I used to play many sports because of the subject, and I enjoyed jogging and badmington I guess ? I also love to swim but my fear of bacterias nowadays prevent me from enjoying any time in public pools or sea.

13. How tall are you ?

I'm 167 cms, so around 5'5 ?

14. Favorite subject in school ?

Back in highschool it was languages, and later for my graduate studies it was geography, because we learned about each country with each their own touristic appeals.

15. Dream job ?

Working in a museum.

Aaaand done ! I don't think I will tag anyone again after this. If someone is interested in doing it tell me so and I will tag you. Overwise, thank again Kari for tagging me ;P

[scuttleboat]

There’s no cursing in The Good Place... (spoilers for season 1)

This post may contain graphic and sexual language. Most of my blog does. Sorry this is way too fucking long.

I had a thought a few weeks ago about how the “no cursing” rule is used on The Good Place, and how a benign act of “appropriateness” is actually an early sign that the characters are living in a dystopian scenario.  And how--bear with me here--this reads to me as a clear analogy for dramatic flailing of fandom groups this last two years. Now, I may not make this point in the most thorough or elegant way possible, as I feel vaguely intimidated talking about a show that has such thoughtful philosophical consideration behind it, but I’m going to give it a shot. If I flub, blame the messenger not the essence of the idea.

In season 1, Eleanor and the audience are presented with a world that is supposed heaven, specifically a “neighborhood” of the good place that is specifically curated to fit its residences (in this case, Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, Jianyu, and others). Of course, we learn right away that Eleanor believes she’s there by mistake, and one of the first rules that demonstrates her “wrongness” is that she wants to curse, and can’t.

Eleanor: “Why can't I say ‘fork’?” Chidi: “If you're trying to curse, you can't here. I guess a lot of people in this neighborhood don't like it, so it's prohibited.” Eleanor: “That's bullshirt.”

The show glosses over this pretty quickly, and it’s played for laughs for the rest of the season. It very cleverly supports the show’s season 1 misdirect: any awkward or unsettling aspect of The Good Place is excused away by the audience (and by the characters) as simply being a side-effect of Eleanor’s misplacement. Of course you can’t swear in heaven!  Swearing is for bad people, and good people wouldn’t even want to hear it. So, therefore, it doesn’t exist here.

And yet, this is not just a subtle form of personal torture for Eleanor (as she is, of course, really in The Bad Place), it’s actually a pretty grotesque form of censorship on all of the characters. Notice that Chidi doesn’t say he is particularly averse to swearing. He says “I guess a lot of people in this neighborhood don’t like it.” Although not nearly as much as others, Chidi does curse a couple times in the show, himself. So, clearly, it’s not a thing he feels particular discomfort about---so why is it censored when they’re alone?  If this were truly a heavenly place customized for each soul, then Eleanor would be able to express herself and Chidi would be able to hear it, but other people who didn’t want to hear it would simply not be subjected to the cursing. 

Instead, the neighborhood completely outlaws cursing anywhere, at any time. In the s1 premise, it’s not enough for the other citizens simply to not hear the swearing, it matters if it’s even happening anywhere in their environment, whether they themselves are witness or not.  So why am I focusing on that idea, when we know the whole thing is manufactured, and the people who made up this rule did so as a lie, just to be cruel?

Because that line of thinking is so endemic to certain parts of fandom right now. Whether it’s making a story or fanart that contains content someone morally disapproves of, or whether it’s only a simple text post or meme going around, there’s thing now where people feel like content boundaries and warnings aren’t enough. It’s not enough to acknowledge that public platforms like Tumblr are unmoderated and that venturing forth to search or browse is accepting a certain amount of risk that one might run into something that makes one uncomfortable.  

[read more below the cut]

When people are campaigning that content they disapprove of--sexually, romantically, politically, morally, paternalistically--shouldn’t exist, they’re doing what the demons of The Bad Place have done to Eleanor and Chidi. They’re saying “This offends me, so it should not exist anywhere that I can know about or ever possibly visit.” Yes, that’s fic about characters who are underage having sex. Yes, that’s fic about characters having sex in a way that doesn’t fit their canon sexuality. Yes, that’s fic about violence and torture being done to characters for brutal and bigoted reasons. Yes, that’s fic about rape, assault, and abuse. Yes, that’s fic about uncomfortable, even disgusting things. Yes, it’s fic about noncon, dubcon, bad bdsm, ABO, slavery, fetishism, power differences, incest, and unrealistic depictions of drugs or sex. It’s fanart and headcanons about those things too.

These ideas, posts, fanworks, and concepts are part of fiction and literature. They’re part of fandom too, and are in fact one of the ways that fandom has pushed the edge of creative development for decades. As they said in Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, “We do the weird stuff.”  Now most people in fandom don’t want to be a dick and just shove things in the face of someone who isn’t interested in consuming it--the artists and writers usually want their work to be found by people who want to consume it. So various media platforms have tools or informal conventions for negotiating shared spaces: tags and ratings on AO3, for example, serve a primary service of sorting the archive and secondary service of warning people of undesired content. On tumblr, it’s most an honor thing where people typically don’t follow blogs that post stuff they know they don’t like, and if someone is going to post something controversial they usually throw up an “FYI” at the top, or put it behind a read-more tag. Those decisions are voluntary, however, and everyone who uses a site like Tumblr is doing so with the express acknowledgement that they cannot control what others post, and may in fact browse a post with content they don’t like. For emotional, personal, or political reasons. ((Note: I’m not referring to personal targeted bullying  and harassment, which may violate the TOS of particular social media sites, and is off-topic for this discussion.))

What happens when you see that post that offends you? Well, you have three primary choices. You can engage with the OP, you can ignore it, or you can hit the “block user” or “report” options. At any given time, those various options may be what you decide to do, and that’s fine. That is, pretty much, the system working. It’s not a perfect system for sure, but it’s a reasonably functioning one on sites like Tumblr that try to accommodate the needs of millions of users. (don’t worry, fandom wont stay on tumblr and twitter forever.) AO3 has similar protections in place, with the difference being that AO3 is a far more opt-in user process: there is no personal “dashboard” or “my feed” on AO3. A person has to seek out content and utilize filters, and doing that only gets the user to the basics like title, summary, and tags. To actually SEE content, the user has to willfully click into the story.

I’m describing these processes (which most of you reading this will already know) because it’s important to keep in mind scope when we’re talking about content exposure and potential resulting damage. When you use these sites (and for the most part, the whole internet), the onus is on the user to curate their experience. On Tumblr that means blocking or blacklisting what you see, and on AO3 that means not clicking the link to a story unless you’ve read and accepted the warnings and description. On Google, it means don’t search “HS History teacher Dean takes teen Castiel in the locker room” if you don’t want to read something fitting that description. Yeah, it may offend you that it exists, but that doesn’t mean that you have to engage with it to prove that it’s harmful to you.

I’ve seen a lot of discussion this last 18 months about what people “can” or “cannot” write, draw, post, or squee about. I’ve seen it in The 100 fandom, I’ve seen it in Teen Wolf fandom, I’ve seen it in Star Wars fandom, I’ve heard about it in anime/cartoon fandom, and I’ve even seen it crop up in, OF ALL THINGS, Game of Thrones fandom.  (side note: if you complain about sexual content in fic while also posting gifs of GoT or Sense8 then I personally would like to throw a pie in your stupid face.) For some people, the answer to “I don’t like that this thing exists” seems to be to aggressively rail against it, to the point of targeting the creator, harassing them, or campaigning for websites or forums to change their rules so that XYZ offensive content does not exist. They say “I don’t care if you write it, just don’t post it where I might find it.”  The idea here is that the world around us is better without XYZ being part of our creative works or discussions, and that shunning that content and those creators makes the world (the internet) a kinder, softer, more welcoming place. 

A good place. 

A place where only good things can be. Where no one is made sad, and nothing that happens here can bring discomfort to anyone. And if you want something that’s not allowed in the good place, the righteous place, then it’s you who doesn’t belong. 

To circle back, the show The Good Place has gotten more popular this season, and I couldn’t be happier. I think it’s a fascinating examination of the ambiguity of people, as well as how mental stress can be used to torture. It’s a funny show with a lot of heart, but it’s a dark show too. And one of the darkest, subtlest things the show has ever done was reach into Eleanor’s mouth and change the words she is speaking. Not to prevent actual harm, but to make sure that other people could live in a world where things they abstractly disapproved of didn’t exist at all. For that, Eleanor was denied her basic concept of self and expression. The elimination of communication like that is such a profound violation of individuality and self that it’s almost incomprehensible that any world in which that happens could be ever perceived as a “good” place. That’s not a nice neighborhood where everyone gets along and is sheltered. That’s mind control. That’s gaslighting. That’s Hell.

There are a lot of ways to handle the struggle of content filtering, and hopefully we’ll figure out new and better ways in the future to balance the needs of artists with the needs of consumers, but one way that doesn’t work is censorship. AO3 isn’t going to change its rules to prevent content you don’t like. They know where that road ends. Tumblr might someday, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for it. And if they do, this whole network of fan culture will migrate to another site without those constraints. It’s already happened twice since I’ve been around. Purity wank is an old problem for fandom, but it used to be an attack from the outside. Now it’s coming from the inside too, probably because the community is so much bigger. So it’s time to really examine the discussions we hear, and sort out if silencing each other is really going to fix anything.

[mightbedamian]

#TMIishTuesday #49 - Am I gay because of...

Hey, Announcement before we start: I've posted dozens of #TMIishTuesday's already - as you can tell by the number above. And I realised, pretty much all of them fall into two categories: - LGBTQ+ and - society/language. And I also think that these two topics are actually targeted at quite a different audience. So I thought, I'd try to organise this blog a little better so you know when to get here for your favorite topic. Here's how: This week, and every second Tuesday of the month from now on, I'll post on LGBTQ+ related topics. So, if you don't want to miss them, mark 14 March, 11 April, and 9 May in your agenda already. However, if you're here for language and society topics: Mark each last Tuesday of the month: 28 February, 28 March, and 25 April are what you should be looking for. The other two or three Tuesdays there'll be topics related to other things. However, if I just posted on languages and next day the Trumpet's government announces it was to prohibit the use of the English language anywhere in world but the U. S., I might slide in an extra language post as the next one. :D I hope this way you know what to expect a little better and know when it's really worth checking this page, if you're only interested in one topic. And now… Enjoy this month's LGBTQ+ related post: "Am I gay because of…?"

Hey there mighty people of the internet! And welcome to issue #49 of #TMIishTuesday - my weekly Tumblr post about what goes through my weird mind and what you guys want to know more about. It can be something very personal, it can be something political, it can be completely pointless - but in 99.9 % of the cases, it involves opinions. And mine as well. // Last week I told you about my favorite album at the moment: Troye Sivan's Blue Neighbourhood which was actually released more than a year ago. Here's why I find it so cool all of a sudden. // Following the rooster I mentioned in the foreword, this post is regarded as "LGBTQ+", but it certainly touches on other topics as well: Society, language, and more. And to be quite honest, I probably would have put it into the "society and language" category, if it wasn't that most LGBTQ+ topics in my list are based around sources on the internet, like articles of newspapers or magazines. But I have a spare hour at my parents at the moment - and their telephone and internet provider fails to execute its most crucial option: Provide telephone and internet. :D So… I'm tugging this topic in. This topic was actually inspired by questions asked on a German forum called "gutefrage.net" where you can get advice by other users on virtually any topic: Computer stuff, visa stuff, school problems, sexuality questions, and I'm convinced there'll be a section for make-up as well. If you google a question in German, chances are that one of the first hits will be a user of gutefrage.net asking your exact question, or a very similar one. That's also how I initially found the forum. And after I had read up on cooking skills - or whatever it was - I just clicked around a little more. And I came across the "gay" tag where people ask questions about their sexuality. And I was like: Maybe I could help some of those people. So I made an account - and every now and then, I'll browse the "gay" tag trying to help the people on there. As I expected, most of them are teens. And since I'm browsing the "gay" tag, most are male as well. And I found that some questions are quite amusing actually. Obviously there are those really deep-cutting problems with teens struggling with either their sexuality or coming out - who I happily help. But some… Man! People's minds can get so creative! I see SO many questions along the lines of: “I'm shy/dressing slightly different than others/young/old/have a smaller dick than others - does that make me gay?" I mean, I kinda get those people who ask questions like "I accidently touched a friend's dick. I think I'm gay now?". On the one hand, if you think about it, it's quite irrational. But on the other hand: If - like in most of Germany - students don't learn about the different sexualities at school until they are 14, 15 (if at all!), it's only natural that our internet-exposed 12- or 13-year-olds ask such questions. They just don't know. (And thanks to society and the use of "gay" as an insult, they are scared of being gay.) But let's get back to the totally strange questions that I find every other day on the forum. These just don't make any sense! Examples? Here you go:

1) "Is it gay when guys listen to Beyoncé songs?" Yeah, totally! Right? Music totally defines your sexuality! Right? If you're a guy and like a song that features a female singer, you're gay! The same goes for a girl who likes songs sung by guys! Oh, and if you like a duet featuring a guy and a girl, you're bi! Right? I don't have to elaborate on this one, do I?

2) "Am I gay just because I have a diamond tattoo behind my ear?" Yeah, totally! If you get a diamond tattooed that's so gay! You should have gotten a gold ingot instead! And why did you pick a spot behind your ear!? You should have gotten it on your back! Like a man! Excuse me? Get whatever tattoo you like on whatever part of your body you like. Okay, maybe don't go all the way IN. That's just dangerous. But for the rest - why not get a diamond behind your ear or a tiny pink bird on your forearm?

3) "Is it gay to dye your hair?" Yeah, totally! Only homosexual people dye their hair! See, I've been debating doing it for years now. And I might talk to my hair dresser about it this upcoming weekend actually. Oh, and my Mum dyes her hair as well to prevent the grey from showing. Oh, wait. My mum still lives with my father. Almost 26 years after having me. And she has been dyeing her hair for a good 5 years now. Why hasn't she turned lesbian, yet? Erm… I'm afraid our oh-so-promising hypothesis didn't pass the practice test again. Shit! Why is that!? Okay, and to finish this off, let me show you two more examples off the same site. The first one is a very bad troll who didn't even bother to get creative creating multiple accounts.

Mr. "Am I gay please help me maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan?"  And he says: "I m/15 think that I am gay cause I accidently touched ONE friend's dick. Please help me!" I mean, poor guy! It's so easy to change your sexuality by just a slip of your hand. Damn, THAT must suck! But I didn't even have to intervene in the original post cause this happened. Note the usernames:

Let’s start with the post 25 mins ago: "I mean just because you touched his dick doesn't mean you're gay, but you grabbed it and I have to say you're doing a good job :3" 1. The start looks quite good tbh. It only gets bad after the comma. 2. The username 3. In the question it doesn't say he grabbed it. And then he replied again: "Yeah, man, you're gay …But that's okay , I'll suck you for 5 euros :)" Erm… Total troll!? :P To finish this off, let's have a laugh at a guy who totally nailed his answer to a guy who asked: "Which optical indications are there that you are gay?"

That guy replied: "At your wrist are clearly visible lines that cross diagonally to your arm (only those count that go from left to right). Their number tells you which kind of person you are dealing with: Homosexuals have two lines; if you are a pedophile, there's one; and there are three, when you're intellectual gifted. If you have a few interrupted ones, you can tell by their amount, distance, and length how often the person had sex." This guy is bloody brilliant!! …and I think that's a good one to finish off this post. Before I go, though, let me know what you thought of this post. What's the most stupid question you ever asked? Place a comment, tweet me, dm me, or do anything else you can think of to get to me. Talking about brilliant stuff: Today’s TMIish Queer Shoutout (let's get rid of the TMIish. That's just too long of a title!) is a film again. Moonlight, an American drama from last year. I don't watch films to easily, but after Ash Hardell talked about it in one of her videos, the plot just got to me and I had to watch it. It tells the story of Chiron, a shy kid who is picked on during school and whose single mother barely devotes time to him. He gets to know Juan, a drug dealer in his 40s or 50s. I won't spoil too much here cause the story is really well thought-through. Only that much: Chiron has to face some more challenges growing up and he eventually struggles with all the problems that arise in the typical ghetto-kind of neighbourhood - and gets to know his sexuality which will play a role later in the film as well. The film is split into three spans of Chiron's life: The small school kid Chiron, the high school kid Chiron (who is still bullied), and the grown-up Chiron who has moved out and lives his own life. As you can tell the gay theme only plays a minor part in this movie, so I can recommend this film to anyone without hesitation. So, if you have a spare two hours this week, find it online somewhere, go ahead and watch it! (Or, if you live in Germany: Wait until 9 March. It's supposed to hit the cinemas then. Might even watch it again then.) As always: Next #TMIishTuesday next Tuesday. If you have any questions in the meantime, just ask away. Whatever you’re curious about - I don’t bite. :) Until then: Stay mighty! Linkage: - gutefrage.net: www.gutefrage.net - Ash Hardell: www.youtube.com/HeyThere005

Oh, and here’s some self-promo: - Last #TMIishTuesday: http://mightbedamian.tumblr.com/post/156942157402/tmiishtuesday-48-troye-sivans-blue - More #TMIishTuesdays: mightbedamian.tumblr.com/tagged/tmi - More #TMIishTuesdays on LGBTQ+ issues: mightbedamian.tumblr.com/tagged/lgbtqplus - More very cool stuff: www.twitter.com/mightbedamian - Even more very cool stuff: mightbedamian.tumblr.com