#so she can at least have a stable home and something somewhat resembling of a normal life

[notdeezy]

URGHHHJJ I AM ALSO SO MAD THEY'VE BASICALLY WRITTEN HELEN OUT OF THE CANON WHERE DID SHE GO???? GIVE US HELEN BACK

The prospect of sad miserable middle aged man trying to raise a child both intrigues me and breaks my heart so muchh </3 Especially when he's missing his ring which both sucks and is a relief!!! Such a double-edged sword.

I personally don't know which one would have more story potential for my own DCU: Hal with no ring trying to live a """"normal"""" life with Helen or maybe even being a hero without powers to some capacity using all of the resources he has at his disposal to prove he's not worthless or Hal does get his ring back and he has to prevent the nightmare from happening all over again and regain ppls trust AUGHHH SO MUCH MISSED POTENTIAL...

I don't know if mr. (gn) depression incarnate would pass for being capable of raising a child look at how crusty and sad he looks he got so many bags under his eyes. It'll Especially be hard if he has no job and no money. He will eventually have to ask someone for help. Like Hallie we know and trust you when you say that you can do it by yourself but honey you live in a tree 💔 at least have Bruce or Ollie give you a temporary place to stay until you can get your life back together

I have my fair share of post-parallax Hal hcs but do you have any? ^w^

i like to think he came back exactly how he was before his breakdown girlboss warcrime moment, so in his 50s, greying, bad knee and shoulder from ignoring his injuries from mongul, no job no friends no money no ring etc.

The thing that always bugs me the most about post-parallax hal is that they (Geoffrey) just fucking ignored helen. like where did she go. she's all of what eight years old just lost her parents, has abandonment issues, stuck in the middle of fucking. idk utah was it??? ALONE???? anyways i like to ignore canon and pretend that hal just kept on keeping on with helen, no powers, just doing his best to keep them afloat with odd jobs and shit.

I think that him being a regular guy again adds some extra pain and despair into the story if you just pick up where Spectre (2001) ends off, because hal Knows he doesn't look stable enough to raise a kid by himself but he Just promised to never give helen up and he wants to be there for her So Fucking Bad , and now that he's an actual people again he has to deal with shit like being legally alive again and custody paperwork and proving himself competent to child services i have thought about this a normal amount

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :( 

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong. 

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D. 

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

 He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry. 

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere? 

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him. 

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today. 

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine. 

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT! 

[oss-crime]

Chapter 5-Escape of the Witch Salmhofer; Scene 8

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 202-209

Ever since Gammon’s revolt, an uneasy political situation had carried on in the Twelve Royal Capitals.

The members of the senate were comprised of the heads of the twelve families that ruled over each town—that had been the standard procedure. But Gammon had decided to repeal this and dismiss each of the present members, starting with his father.

However, this caused great deal of backlash. Fearing it would reignite the fires of conflict anew, Gammon established a meeting with the twelve families, and ultimately decided to make the sons of each family into the new senate members.

Due to this, the new senate wound up being comprised largely of young people in their twenties.

Gammon made public that the queen had been in a brainwashed state by Miroku for many years.

“From now on I vow to return to the proper governmental system with the queen at its core.”

Gammon’s decree had relieved the people.

On the other hand, around this point much of the populace had also learned of the queen’s prophecy that foretold the world’s destruction.

As anxieties about this matter began to spread, the new senate headed by Gammon decided to revive Project “Ma”—

.

“—And I’m the one who has been ordered to take responsibility for it…Me, Seth Twiright.”

They were in a room in the Royal Research Institute.

Seth had explained all this to Meta, who was herself seated in a chair.

Outside the room she could hear several people walking about. They were all researchers that Seth had newly hired on, but their true identity was that of the government’s information bureau.

In other words, they were guards there to keep Meta from escaping.

“…So then, when these children are born—” Meta patted her belly, which had grown larger. “You’re saying I’ll become the next queen?”

But Seth sadly shook his head at her question.

��The details of the second Project ‘Ma’ are slightly altered from the previous one…The ‘mother of the gods’ will be able to achieve a sizable reward and commensurate status—but the position of queen will still be performed by Alice Merry-Go-Round.”

“…So the ‘mother of the gods’…only exists to give birth to the ‘Twins of God’.”

“If we didn’t have it that way, the senate would never have given permission for you, a non-virgin, to be fertilized with the ‘Seed of God’, yes?”

But Meta had qualified as an “Ma” candidate back in the first project as well. When she asked Seth about that, he explained with a shrug of his shoulders, “Back then the government still hadn’t obtained any conclusive proof of your and Pale’s relationship.”

“That’s surprisingly sloppy of the government.”

“It’s an issue of them not having a sense of the impending crisis. There’s still a few decades before the time of the destruction—the ‘Gear of Twilight’. For most people, it’s the many issues that are more immediately in front of them that take priority.”

“…”

“But that’s not so for Gammon. He has met with the queen personally—and most likely came into contact with the ‘truth’. Though I don’t know the specific contents of it. At any rate, he has privately become quite desperate to stop the world’s destruction. To the point where he is no longer concerned with keeping up appearances.”

So then…that was the reason why he was seeking an “Ma” candidate that was magically strong, regardless of whether or not they were a criminal.

Meta had already had a “Seed of God” implanted in her stomach by Seth.

She had become pregnant soon after, and started to live hidden away from the world in the royal research institute.

The people most likely had not been made aware of the fact that it was Meta who bore the “Twins of God”.  If it got out that the “Witch of Merrigod” were the “Mother of the Gods”, there’s no way there wouldn’t be an uproar about it.

In all likelihood, once the “Twins of God” were born that fact would be made public by Gammon, and they would be accepted into the populace with great celebration.

But Meta herself—

I’ll be forced to change my name and live as someone else…I suppose that would be preferable. There’s always a chance they’ll kill me to shut me up.

As far as society was concerned, Meta had already been executed in Lighwatch temple.

At the very least, the current government wasn’t a monolith. She could determine that from how Seth had gone out of his way to pull off such a trick to save her (though she didn’t know if it was something he had done on his own or if Gammon had ordered him to). If Yegor had been in on it, there wouldn’t have been any need to fake her death like that.

Though Seth had promised Meta’s safety, there was no guarantee that others would feel similarly.

And Meta didn’t even trust Seth to start with.

The reason why she was still cooperating with him regardless—

“…Hey. Is Pale okay? I wanna see him.”

She had posed this question to Seth several times before.

Each time she did he would dodge the question—

But today was different.

“Relax. I’m a man of my word.”

“Then—”

“Just like you, Pale Noel was executed publicly. But—”

“—He’s actually still alive. …Did you use the same methods as with me?”

“No. I examined him while in prison as a doctor, and…it seemed that Pale’s body had developed some defects. –He can’t maintain his own body without absorbing magical energy from other people.”

Meta had known that already.

But where was he going with this?

“Couldn’t you just…do something about that when he got out of prison?”

“That wouldn’t work. It was my estimation that as he was, Pale wouldn’t have much longer to live. …So I figured this was a good time to have him swap bodies.”

“I…don’t understand what you mean.”

“In that case—I should probably have you see for yourself.” Seth clapped his hands. “Enter.”

On cue the door opened, and a boy entered the room.

“Who’s this kid?” Meta asked.

The one to answer was not Seth, but the boy himself.

“Long time no see, Meta…It’s me, Pale.”

“…Wha?”

Obviously, the Pale that Meta knew wasn’t a boy like this, but an adult man.

But…now that she looked at him properly, his features did seem to resemble Pale’s somewhat.

“Er…So you mean…”

“You must be confused. But—it’s okay. I’ll take this opportunity to explain it all to you.” Pale turned to Seth. “I assume you don’t mind…Brother.”

Seth nodded wordlessly.

Once he’d seen that, Pale turned back to Meta.

“I—am a ‘ghoul child’.”

“…Ghoul child?”

“An artificial human created inside a beaker. My body and personality were all constructed by Seth.”

“You…expect me to believe such a crazy story?”

Pale pointed to Meta’s belly as she drew in her shoulders.

“It’s sort of like—the twins inside your stomach. The only difference is that their mother is a human woman instead of a glass vessel…that’s all it is.”

“…”

Certainly…on the point that they weren’t created by natural intercourse between a man and woman but rather an experiment of Seth’s—

They were the same.

Pale leaned against the wall, and continued his explanation.

“For some time now, Horus—or rather, Seth—has been performing research into the artificial construction of life to make the ‘Next Queen Project’ a reality. The construction of ‘ghoul children’…like myself…could be called a subspecies, or variant, of that.”

“…”

Meta silently listened to him speak, her hands resting on her expanded belly.

This boy’s way of speaking was the same as Pale’s that she knew so well.

“—Though it hasn’t been as simple as all that. Ever since I became an adult, I came to be afflicted with a problem of magical energy…Though that was better than the alternative. The ‘ghoul child’ made after me was just kept in storage as an empty shell, without a personality.”

Pale said that the body he was currently using was recycled from that “empty shell” that had been kept in storage.

“It took quite a bit of time to get my spirit affixed to this body…So we weren’t able to meet like this until now.”

“…You…knew all of this before?”

“Yeah. That’s why I…once ordered you to kill my brother. I had thought—that if I could get rid of the original of me, “Seth”, then I would become the “real” one.”

“Pale…My beloved Pale…My poor Pale…”

Meta stood and walked over to Pale, crouching down and embracing her love.

“…”

Pale looked over at Seth, his short arms around Meta’s back.

“Brother—Could you let me speak to Meta alone for a little bit?”

“…Ah, very well. I’m not so boorish as to get in the way of a lover’s meeting.”

Seth nodded and left the room, humming to himself.

.

--For a short while, the two of them continued to hold each other without a word.

Eventually, Pale whispered to Meta, “Meta…Let’s run away.”

“…!?”

“I can survive like this. There’s…no need for you to do as Seth says.”

“But—”

Meta looked down.

She was looking at her own belly, where her twins resided.

Pale nodded in understanding.

“—That’s right. It’ll be hard to escape with your body heavy with child. When you’re stable after the birth, I’ll…create a diversion. You’ll have to be patient until then.”

“…Alright, I understand.”

“Apocalypse is on the brink of destruction. But as long as we’re together…we can start over again.” Pale pulled away from Meta. “I’ll have to be going home soon.”

“…Where are you living now?”

“Seth’s house. Publicly, I’m his nephew.”

When Pale opened the door, Seth was waiting there to greet him.

“Are you done talking? Then let’s get going.”

Thus prompted, Pale left with Seth.

It almost seemed to Meta as though his limbs were bound with a thin string tied to Seth’s finger.  

<<prev------directory------next>>

[crebby]

PI Woods - A personal take on Homicidal Liu

Important Disclaimer

This entire post was solely written for fun! I do not in any way want to demean the original version of Homicidal Liu. The original creator seems v cool and if the only thing that may be considered ‘fixed’ is the way Liu’s DID works, as even the creator themselves has stated that if they had written Liu today, they would’ve approached things differently. The rest is all just me throwing out my own ideas.

Also, if any corrections are to be made about his DID or if I wrote anything wrong, please do let me know!

Additionally, I must warn that this contains mentions of s*icide, self harm, violence, murder and mentions of past trauma. Said content is all beneath the cut.

The past

Liu came from a troubled, abusive household and spent a good few years in an orphanage until he got adopted into the Woods family at the age of 7. Despite now growing up under a loving family, Liu has always sensed that something about him made him different from other kids, finding himself often stuck with memory loss. Meanwhile, his parents had to deal with sudden outbursts and tantrums, their son suddenly insisting that his name is Sully, and at other times they had to stop 'Liu' from doing anything harmful to himself.

The possibility of dissociative identity disorder wasn’t considered, and at the time, the Woods parents assumed this behaviour to be the result of trauma from Liu’s previous household.

In the beginning, Liu didn’t quite have a word to describe his experience. He knew there were others living alongside in his body in a way and it made things harder for him. It was only once he got older that he discovered what DID was, and things finally made sense to him. He’s absolutely certain he has it, but never felt this was something he could bring up around his family, not even his brother. It took him even longer to figure out how to achieve some proper normalcy with his alters.

Despite the difficulties, the Woods family has always loved Liu like he was their own.

The system

Liu is the host of this system, and there are three alters alongside him. Liu always used to be rather taciturn and introverted, but was very kind and polite. Between him and Jeff, their parents always noted that Liu was the most well-behaved out of the two, also being studious and responsible: something that came naturally as the older sibling.

Sully, on the other hand, has always been rather antsy and anxious, always on guard like something bad is bound to happen. He isn’t necessarily violent, but he is very reactive and therefore is prone to outbursts at times. Notably, Sully is a very avid lover of all things strawberry. Sometimes a switch occurs, leaving whoever fronts now wondering why there’s so much strawberry yoghurt in the fridge, only to then remember Sully probably went to buy groceries. He’s also prone to triggers as he holds certain traumatic memories. Generally, he still manages to be functional. He's the most likely to hold grudges (relevant for later) and his cautiousness usually makes sure nothing stupid happens.

Myra is easily the most responsible in the system, and is also the only female alter. Sometimes she forgets that she is residing in a male body, but has gotten used to it, though Liu has insisted on at least making himself appear somewhat more androgynous for the sake of her comfort when she's fronting, while also preventing discomfort for other alters. Myra is more in charge of solving things like conflicts and occasionally manages switches as well, but also makes sure regular tasks get done.

Calypso is… Quite the subject. He is the carrier of most of the system's traumatic memories, and is the least stable out of the four. They are most susceptible to self-destructive tendencies. Sometimes Myra, Liu or Sully will wake up feeling horrible and sore, only to realise it was because Calypso tried things the night before. Due to these tendencies, the system tries to make sure they don't front very often, both for their own and Calypso's safety, even if this isn't always pleasant for him.

The Incident

Things were quite shaken up after the night Jeff tried to kill the system, but it was Sully who underwent the direct experience that night, while Liu woke up, confused and in pain in the hospital after his memory stopped at him welcoming Jeff back home. Naturally, he was quite distraught and disoriented, as was Myra and Calypso.

Trying to achieve a new sense of normalcy was tough for the system, and it took a while to even recover from the initial shock. They were sent off to Liu's aunt, who was more than happy to take the system in, especially considering Liu was her favourite nephew.

After the attempt on the system's life, Liu became far more withdrawn, and got more and more absorbed by his studies. He still had no idea what lead up to Jeff snapping the way he did, but had managed to forgive him and simply wants a chance to talk to him again. Given the opportunity, he moved out, eventually working as a private investigator. When he was younger, he dreamt of being a detective, but all the incidents leading up to Jeff's decline left Liu with a permanent distrust towards the police, making private detective work the next best thing. Along with this, Liu has completely dedicated himself to finding out where Jeff went, and to hopefully talk to him.

Sully, on the other hand, may forgive but never forgets, and this time he couldn't forgive. Similarly to Liu, he has developed an obsession with pinning down Jeff's whereabouts, but he has far more sinister reasons for this, as he is quite vengeful towards Jeff. He isn't as stable as he used to be, either.

Liu and Sully's dedication to finding Jeff has been the source of a lot of conflict, as Myra - and Calypso to an extent - wants to be able to move on from what happened and return to living a normal life, heavily disagreeing with what the two are doing. At times, she has tried sabotaging their investigations, and the system still hasn't come to an agreement regarding this situation.

Homicide

Things only get messier from here.

Once Liu is set on a goal, there is nothing you can do to actually stop him. This means he's more than willing to turn to murder if it means furthering his goals. He has already murdered several people, most being related to the investigation into Jeff. However, he approaches this very methodically. His go-to method is staging suicides or accidents, and cooldown periods are quite long. He only kills if he deems killing to be necessary, and does in fact feel guilty about it. He tries rationalising what he's done by telling himself that Jeff would most likely be killed by authorities, and that this is a way of protecting him, but deep down he knows he's kind of lying to himself.

Sully is much messier, much to Liu's chagrin. On some occasions he intentionally kills, and in many other cases it's because something triggered the trauma experienced from what Jeff did, and he reacts violently. Many of the people Sully kills either resemble Jeff or remind Sully of him in one way or another. Contrary to Liu, Sully takes pleasure in brutally killing these people because to him, it's the closest to actually killing Jeff. Sometimes Liu instructs Sully mentally on how to dispose of the bodies, other times there's a switch and Liu does it himself.

Myra and Calypso are extremely against this, leading to even more conflict in the system. Self-destructive tendencies coming from Calypso end up worsening as a result, and they have attempted to consciously kill the entire system, feeling like it’s the only way to stop what they’re doing. In some cases, they have nearly succeeded, so all three other alters have to collectively block Calypso from fronting entirely for safety reasons. Despite this, he’s still very much present.

Extra (can be updated)

Myra, Sully and Calypso are eager to have an image of what they believe they look like, and as a result love recreating themselves whether it’s through art or through character creators like Picrew. This is how the system would make themselves on Picrew:

Liu

(He very intentionally portrays himself without the scars and stitches. They’re a huge insecurity of his.)

Sully

Myra

Calypso

--

If I have made any mistakes in the portrayal of DID, please let me know and correct me!! I wish to do my best, as I know it’s a heavily misportrayed condition.

[bracedfangirl]

I know I should be putting out the next Fatal Mistake AU chapter but-

School’s got me a little, and I can only put out snippets for a few more days, before I finish the end of the next chapter of it. So here I am with yet another teaser from the later part of the AU, introducing a very much unseen side of Morro

(Small clarification: For a reason the ninja and Morro will have to work together around 2 months after Lloyd dies. I’ll put it in a chapter too later, but if y’all want to know it just send an ask)

"So let me get this straight, Wu never told you anything about how souls and minds and all these things work?"

"Uh no..."

"Shit... Okay, then I guess we'll have to start with the basics… Soul types. There are 5 main ones, and each type has variations of it's own, and each type has a rarity and default traits. Trego, tria, geeda, keydro and sikol. Let's start with tregos. They're stable, possession suitable spirits, who are very common, and can heal their breaks and wounds. Aggressive and impatient most of the time."

Morro says while giving a subtle glare at Kai who tries to hide his offense without success.

"The red is the most aggressive, the intensity getting less in orange and yellow ones-"

"Well I bet Kai's one of these right?"

Jay totally fails changing the mood, but Morro seems to comply.

"You're spot on with that, he's the most hot headed red trego I've ever heard of."

"Hey!"

"What Flamehead? I'm just stating a fact. Anyway, the next are trias who... really differ by variation but are the most common... Possession suitable, usually able to heal their wounds. There's orange white and malachite. Malachite is fairly aggressive and possessive, orange is more like a sane, calm but protective spirit and white... well white is pretty much a very chill, calm and gentle variation."

Jay cuts in again, seemingly oblivious to who he's talking to.

"Okay well they may be common but I didn't recognise any of us."

"You gotta be kidding me! Three of you are trias! Nya's the most vicious malachite I've ever seen! Being an orange is written on Cole's face, and since Zane has an artificial mind, there isn't even any other option."

"What? When was I vicious with you?"

Morro laughs lightly at Nya's protest, before taking up his annoying smug grin, that's been sickening Kai ever since he first saw it.

"Who said I know your personalities from meeting you enough times in person?"

That causes an awkward silence, the urge to break the deal with Morro and just kill him already rapidly growing in Kai.

"A broken soul and a pretty much nonexistent mind doesn't have secrets if you're a possesser ghost. The memories just show up on hit..."

Cole has to keep him down after that, his boiling hatred threatening to burst out of him.

"Anyway back to the original topic, the next are geedas. While you can possess a geeda, it's not the best choice... These guys have issues with emotional control, and often are panicky or anxious. Somewhat stable, but not the best at fixing themselves. There's blue grey and yellow, the grey being the absolute embodiment of anxiety."

Cole snorts, looking at Jay with mischevious eyes.

"I'm sensing Jay in this one."

"He's a yellow one, the second worst to deal with."

"What- rude!"

Zane's eyes light up, and he turns to Morro, words chosen way too carefully.

"What are you? I didn't really see any match yet."

"I'm a keydro, probably a yellow one... Mood swings and emotion control issues are let's say common, but at least mine is so much of a hostile type that you wouldn't ever get possessed. It wouldn't end well for that ghost. We're more of possesser spirits in general. There's grey and green too, but there's not much difference."

Nya isn't exactly subtle at voicing her opinion, voice venomous.

"That would explain why you're such an asshole."

Kai's uncertain, quiet voice suddenly rings out, grief clearly staining it.

"What about Lloyd?"

Morro freezes mid-turn at that, stalling for a few seconds before sighing and flopping down on the ground, eyes miles away. His voice is quiet, and Kai catches a slight emotion in it, something he never thought he'd hear from the ghost.

"Sikol..."

It's terror… fear…

"Black sikol... and trust me, that's not something you want to meet in pure form. Especially not in… his case... Sikols are... unusual and… rare. They have insane mental birth defects, completely missing whole emotions sometimes..."

"Mother of god-"

"Too unstable for possession, but you can't recognise them at all... they don't have a trait you can see to recognise them. They can't heal either… at all."

"So that's why the kid still had nightmares about Darkley's years later-"

"Yes… their wounds stay open for years, making them unpredictable and agressive… Very aggressive… They're vicious, and don't care about anything… sometimes not even their own lives… There's white, gold, grey and black and-"

Morro takes a few seconds to stabilize himself before somehow continuing in a more panicked manner.

"And black ones resemble demons more than humans… they take a dragon like shape and a… shadow like appearance, with glowing wounds and eyes... Fighting one isn't just unwise, but downright suicidal… It's like you picked a fight with a rabid dragon!"

It's in that moment that the question he's been wanting to ask for months explodes out of Kai, anger and pain soaking his voice.

"Then why didn't you stop? If it was unwise and dangerous why didn't you just let him go and try possess one of us? Why him?"

"Because he was the leader, and if I let him get home and tell you about me I won't have a second chance! It's just simple strategy Kai! Besides this way there's at least one person who knows how close he was to snapping permanently... an abandonment break blinding your soul's right eye isn't something you can ignore for long-"

"What's an abandonment break?"

"I said too much again didn’t I? *sigh* It's the most dangerous mental injury you can suffer from... Any break is dangerous, as it's the damage of an emotional core, and you can get it with emotional trauma. An abandonment break is when your love and trust cores get damaged, and the name comes from it being found mostly on people without parents... I've never known that it can appear over your eye until I've seen Lloyd's... It looked serious and like it has been there most of his life... I'm pretty sure it's from Darkley's."

The silence that follows Morro's last statement is so thick, they could cut it if they tried. Everyone is trying to understand the new information, still partially in denial.

"I've been taught how to possess, how to keep control and how to try to avoid sikols for decades, but never once did anyone mention that a 14 year old with the soul injuries of a 90 year old war veteran can exist, much less how he fights! He was weak but attacked in waves, and then it took a lot of force to keep him down... The-The only good thing that came out of this is that I completed the mission given to me and that I showed the world how weak it is. I don't think people should depend on just a person to protect them this much...There's simply no way Helena is doing this for fun, she probably feels like I took something from her and in return she's gonna mess with something she doesn't understand, and-and that will result in chaos! People who feel like they were exploited in their lives are agressive upon forced ressurrection! The problem isn't that Helena is planning to do something disrespectful and disgusting, it's because she's planning on unleashing something no one can control! That's why it's important to stop her. I doubt you'd be happy if someone woke you up at 1 am demanding you to save the world... Imagine how Lloyd will feel, waking up in his fucking rotten body!"

The silence after this is far less thick, Kai making an uneasy, seemingly forced statement.

"Then I suppose… we can work together… but only if you play fairly and by our rules."

"I never expected anything else."

[wrestlingisfake]

Double or Nothing preview

Been a while, hasn’t it?

Jon Moxley vs. Brodie Lee - This will be Moxley’s second defense of the AEW men’s world championship since winning the title on February 29.  Impressively, Mox is already the longest-reigning champion in AEW history, holding the title for an incredible 823 days over the past three months.

The story is fairly basic: on May 6 Lee sent his stable, the Dark Order, to dogpile Moxley before he demanded this match and walked off with the title belt.  Lee has lots of backup, but Mox is too stubborn to back down.

Brodie Lee was formerly known as Luke Harper in WWE, where he was usually a member of Bray Wyatt’s cult, the Wyatt Family.  After a 2018 biceps injury, he was used very sparingly, and requested his release in April 2019.  WWE used him even more sparingly, but finally let him go in December.  In January the Dark Order began teasing an unseen leader known as “the Exalted One,” who was finally revealed to be Lee once his WWE no-compete clause expired in March.

Lee played a cult member for almost all of his WWE run, but it seems like his  strongest impression of how cult leaders act was not Bray Wyatt but WWE chairman Vince McMahon.  Everyone at AEW seems to deny a direct parody--and for all I know it really isn’t intentional--but it’s not subtle how his on-screen behavior resembles accounts of Vince’s off-screen idiosyncrasies.  Which adds an extra wrinkle to the story, given Moxley’s very public, very blistering criticism of McMahon when he left WWE last year.

AEW has claimed this show’s card is mostly what was planned before the pandemic forced them to move from Las Vegas to a closed set in Jacksonville.  Even so, I feel like this would have been a very week title match on any of AEW’s previous pay-per-views, and it’s hard to believe they were really going to headline with this in the MGM Grand.  My gut says that under normal circumstances this match would be given away on free TV.  But these aren’t normal circumstances, so I guess you might as well do this now and save a bigger match for when fans are back.

I think there is zero chance of Lee actually winning the title, so the only question is how much Moxley will have to do to retain.

Chris Jericho & Jake Hager & Sammy Guevara & Ortiz & Santana vs. Kenny Omega & Hangman Page & Matt Hardy & Nick Jackson & Matt Jackson - This is being billed as a “stadium stampede” match.  A ring will be set up in the middle of TIAA Bank Field, the home stadium of the Jacksonville Jaguars.  I’m guessing the match will start in the ring, but the rules allow the wrestlers to fight anywhere in the stadium, so I’m not sure why it matters.  The match cannot end by count-out or disqualification, and falls count anywhere.

This feud started in October when Jericho recruited Hager, Guevara, Ortiz, and Santana to form The Inner Circle, to help him oppose The Elite (Omega, the Young Bucks, Page, and Cody Rhodes).  The two teams were set for a ten-man “war games” style cage match on March 25, but to give Nick Jackson paternity leave he was “injured” and Matt Hardy was announced as his replacement.  The match was scrapped altogether in light of the coronavirus pandemic.  On May 13, Jericho proposed issued a challenge to the Elite for this match.  Since Cody is already booked on the card, Hardy is subbing for him this time instead of Nick.

Most of the people in this match have wrestled very sparingly since AEW started running closed-set shows on March 18, although the Inner Circle has been back at full strength since May 6.  Part of the intrigue is that Page and the Bucks were off AEW television in over two months, so Jericho is suggesting that the Elite barely exists anymore.  Ring rust will almost surely be a factor, as Matt Jackson hurt his ribs doing a spot in his big return on May 20.  So even though this match features some of the best talent in the world, I could easily see it getting “bowling shoe ugly” very quickly.

It’s almost lost in the shuffle that this is Hardy’s first real big match since jumping from WWE to AEW and reviving his “Broken Matt Hardy” gimmick from Impact Wrestling.  Hardy was originally in this to support his friends, but it became personal when Jericho “killed” his beloved quadcopter drone, Vanguard 1.  It’s pretty clear AEW wants to build to a high-profile Hardy-Jericho match, but the coronavirus situation has probably screwed up their idea of when that can happen.

I’d like to see the Elite finally settle the score with the Inner Circle, but I can’t help but think this feud must continue, and putting the heels over is the easiest way to do that.  However, I suppose the babyfaces could pin someone other than Jericho or Hager without really resolving the feud.

Cody Rhodes vs. Lance Archer - This is a tournament final to determine the first person to hold the new AEW TNT championship.  Cody defeated Shawn Spears and Darby Allin to advance to this match.  Archer defeated Colt Cabana and Dustin Rhodes.  Mike Tyson will present the title belt to the winner for some reason.

TNT is the name of the channel that airs Dynamite in the US, so this is basically a modern take on the old television titles.  In the days before pay-per-view specials, wrestling TV shows were designed to build to big matches at untelevised events, with the idea that you had to pay for a ticket to see the real big shows.  In that business model, televised title bouts were somewhat rare, so a television championship would stand out for being regularly defended on TV.  There’s a lot of nostalgia for the concept, but nobody’s really come up with a good way to make it work in the modern era.  (Hell, I barely understood the point of the WCW TV title 30 years ago.)  I know AEW management feels strongly about avoiding the stigma of a “midcard title,” so I’m curious to see what they come up with here.

Archer has been built up very well as the biggest and most monstrous of the big monster heels.  He really needs to win his first big PPV match in the company to maintain his momentum.  But at the same time, Archer’s manager Jake Roberts has been a huge dirtbag to Cody’s wife Brandi, so that really needs to be avenged.  It’s really impressive how AEW can build these matches up with really simple things that defy one’s “this guy has to win” logic, which makes the match more exciting.  My money’s on Archer, but I have to root for Cody.

Nyla Rose vs. Hikaru Shida - Rose is making her second defense of the AEW women’s world championship.  Shida earned this title shot by winning a four-way match on May 13.

This match feels a little cold to me, probably because both women were absent from TV for about a month.  AEW’s women’s division has always struggled to be relevant but it’s been hit particularly hard by the pandemic.  Between travel bans and wrestlers electing to stay home, a huge chunk of the roster has been unavailable.  Nevertheless, Rose still comes across as a big dominant juggernaut, and Shida still feels like the babyface they’ve been saving for a special occasion, so it’s like everything worked out in the end.

Shida makes sense as the next women’s champion, but it feels too early.  Even though Nyla has held the title since February, her absence in April makes it feel like she hasn’t had enough time to really make it her own.  I have to pick Rose to retain.

Casino Ladder Match - This is a nine-man match, where the winner will earn the right to challenge the AEW men’s world champion.  Like any ladder match, an objective (a casino chip in this case) will be suspended above the ring, and ladders will be provided for the participants to use and climb; the first man to retrieve the objective wins the match.  However, participants will enter the match gauntlet style, with two men starting and an additional man entering every 90 seconds.  In theory, the match could end before everyone has entered, but I doubt it’ll come to that.

The plan a year ago was to make the “casino battle royale” an annual tradition at Double or Nothing, but I’m guessing that wasn’t feasible this year.  Social distancing guidelines and battle royales (battles royale?) don’t go well together.  Then again, neither do nine-person ladder matches, although it’s possible the gauntlet stip will help limit the action to two or three people in the ring at any given time.

Eight participants have been announced: Orange Cassidy, Colt Cabana, Darby Allin, Scorpio Sky, Frankie Kazarian, Kip Sabian, Luchasaurus, and (as a late substitution for Rey Fenix) Joey Janela.  It looks like the ninth entrant won’t be revealed before the show, which is actually kind of exciting considering how many hot free agents are available at the moment.  I’m not saying it will be one of the people WWE recently released, but it makes at least as much sense as using Billy Gunn or something.

I don’t have a strong sense of who should win, because the winner is probably just going to lose to Jon Moxley on a free TV match.  I guess the question is, who would be the best opponent for Moxley in that situation?  I’m leaning towards Darby Allin, but not much.  If the mystery entrant is any good, though, that could change everything.

MJF vs. Jungle Boy - There’s not much of a story here.  MJF was riding high after a big win over Cody Rhodes on February 29, but then he was out for about a month, presumably due to the pandemic.  He claimed he was sidelined by a devastating hangnail, but I don’t know if I buy that.  Upon his return, he was told he’d be facing Jungle Boy here, and he wasn’t happy.  Since then, they’ve been kinda teasing Jungle Boy’s buddy Luchasaurus against MJF’s henchman Wardlow, so we’ll probably get more teases for that.

Listen, I’m not saying Jungle Boy is going to target the pinkie finger that had the hangnail.  I’m definitely not saying Jungle Boy is going to bite MJF’s finger, or that MJF will sell it like he’s been shot.  I’m just saying that would be a really good idea that would be worth the full price of the pay-per-view.

But I have a feeling MJF will win anyhow.

Kris Statlander vs. Penelope Ford - This was originally going to be Statlander against Britt Baker, but Baker suffered a knee injury on May 20.  I’m becoming a big Baker fan (I mean, boo, she’s mean, but y’know), so it sucks that she’s sidelined.  But it’s kinda cool that Ford gets to step up here.  She seems talented, but she hasn’t been pushed too hard except as Kip Sabian’s girl.  Then again, I like Statlander’s alien hijinx too.  Can I just bet that all the wrestlers will have a good time?

Shawn Spears vs. Dustin Rhodes - The entire heel gimmick for Spears is that he hates Cody Rhodes, which isn’t so great since he only fights Cody once every few months.  Anyway, he got eliminated in the TNT title tournament by Cody, and since then he’s been giving Dustin shit.  When Dustin was eliminated from the tournament in a bloody match with Lance Archer, Cody teased throwing in the towel but didn’t.  So Spears is trying to make big deal about Cody not rescuing Dustin, and Dustin being a washed-up has-been.  I’m pretty sure Dustin is just going to beat his ass and that’ll be it.

Chuckie T & Trent Beretta vs. Isiah Kassidy & Marq Quen - This is scheduled for the pre-show.  The winning team will earn a shot at the AEW tag team championship.  So I guess that means Kenny Omega and Hangman Page have to do the title match soon, which suggests Page can’t immediately go back to hiding in the woods.  Maybe?  I mean, good for Hangman staying at home.  I’m just saying I don’t have a clue what’s going on in the tag team division.  Anyway, Kassidy and Quen are cool and they’ll be big someday, but it’s pretty clear that AEW thinks “someday” is ways off.  The Best Friends are the clear favorite to win, although an upset isn’t totally impossible.

[dancingkirby]

Chapter 1: In which things start out awkward and get worse

Long-awaited sequel START!  Yeah, still don’t know if/when it’ll be finished, but I seem to have a pretty clear outline now.

Anyway, I have been frustrated by miscommunications caused by autism as of late, so I decided to write a whole chapter where it was turned up to 11.  It was kind of interesting writing Eska as the “bad guy” for once...but her POV is coming up next chapter.

“Korra?”

“Yeah?”

“We have a situation.”

Korra and Asami had been packing Korra’s things for the former’s long-awaited permanent move to the latter’s mansion.  It was an arduous task, and one that really couldn’t be made any easier by bending. (Korra knew because she had tried airbending, which just made the mess worse.)  Asami had left Air Temple Island to take the first load of boxes to her house, and Korra was just starting to think that she had been gone a long time when Ikki came to her to inform her that she was on the phone.

Korra paused to catch her breath from the mad dash to the phone, and then inquired, “What…kind of situation?”

“Your cousins decided to pay a visit.”

“Desna and Eska?!” As if she had any other cousins that she knew of.

“Yep.  I found them sitting outside the outer gate. They’re on the porch now.  They refused to go inside the house or even say why they’re here until you get here.”

Korra smacked her forehead.  Moving day was stressful enough, but now she had her weird relatives to deal with.

“Okay…okay.  I can do this.  I’ll have them get Oogi ready.  Be there in a bit.  Love you.”

“Love you too. Oh, I almost forgot.”

“Hm?”

“They have a kid with them.”

After a brief stop at the police station to ask Mako for backup (since one never knew with the twins, and she’d prefer not to have to use brute force if there was a problem), Korra punched in the code at Asami’s gate and let the two of them in. Sure enough, her cousins hadn’t budged; they were sitting on hastily-found and mismatched chairs like they owned the place.  And there was indeed a child…a girl of about three.  The child looked supremely uncomfortable, and was holding on to Eska’s hand for dear life.  She had lighter skin than would be expected for a Water Tribe individual, but more importantly, she had very green eyes.  It was almost as if someone had made an exact copy of her father’s eyes and nose, then pasted them down onto Eska’s fine-boned face.  

Hold on a minute. Did that mean that Bolin and Eska…Korra desperately tried to cancel that train of thought.  

Mercifully, just then Mako made a noise that was most akin to a choking komodo rhino.  The child started crying.  Eska shot Mako a murderous look as she pulled the child onto her lap.

“All right, calm down…just calm down...” Mako muttered, presumably as much to himself as to the trio on the porch.  He walked a short distance away and took several deep breaths.

When he got back, he said in a more even tone, “Asami, I will need to use your phone, because Bolin is in big fu…” -he shot a glance at the kid-“freaking trouble.”

“Sure.”

“Do we really need to involve him in this right now?”  Korra asked. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to bring him after all.

“He’s going to find out sooner or later,” was all Mako said.  Korra would still have preferred to wait, but Mako had known for Bolin for longer than she had.  She decided to let him have the final say against her better judgment.

Once Mako had entered the house, Korra turned to the twins and said “Eska.  Desna.”

“Cousin,” they answered in unison.  Eska added, “This is Kinalik,” gesturing to the child.

“Um…hi,” Korra said, not having much experience with small children.  Kinalik hid her face in Eska’s coat.

Eska abruptly announced, “She needs the toilet.”  How she knew that was a mystery to Korra.

“O-of course,” Asami replied.  “Just go up the flight of stairs next to the foyer, and you should see it.”

Eska lifted Kinalik into her arms and slouched off without thanking Asami.  Korra shot her girlfriend a look of sympathy.

“So are you going to tell us why you’re here?”  Korra said as she turned to Desna.

“We thought it would be safer to leave home for the time being, until things blew over,” he replied.  Korra waited for him to elaborate on these “things,” but he didn’t.

“Well…we have plenty of room!” Asami told him, trying to smile and be a gracious hostess even under these trying circumstances.

“We will only require one bedroom,” Desna said.  At the couple’s strange looks, he went on, “I sleep in the tub, didn’t you know?”

It was impossible for Korra to tell whether he was being serious or not.

Having run out of things to say, the trio hung around awkwardly until Mako returned, followed shortly by Eska and Kinalik.

“Bolin will be here soon.  You and him can work things out then,” he said, addressing Eska.  “Meanwhile, it looks like the situation is stable, so my job here is done.”

As Mako walked back to his car, Eska said something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “But you didn’t do anything.”

“Not the most impressive police officer I have ever seen,” Desna added in a more audible tone.  Korra bit back a retort.

There was nothing left to do but wait until Bolin got here.  Korra took that time to observe.  Something seemed…off about Kinalik.  She hadn’t said anything this entire time, and was now rocking back and forth rather vigorously.  Eska had no reaction.

“Is she upset? Is there anything we could bring her?” Asami asked.

“She is fine,” Eska replied.

“Are you sure? I still have my old toys stored up somewhere; I could try to find them.”

“We all have our difficulties,” was the only thing Eska said in response.

But Eska wasn’t neglectful, either.  Although she didn’t show the traditional displays of affection one would expect from a mother, she kept a close eye on Kinalik.   At one point, Kinalik made a fist with her thumb sticking out, and Eska made an identical gesture and touched their thumbs together.

“Thumb kiss,” she explained when she saw Korra and Asami staring at her.

After a while, Asami rang for some lemonade and refreshments to be brought out.  Kinalik grabbed at a dumpling and took a bite, but she immediately spat the bite back out.

“It’s yucky!” she proclaimed at the top of her lungs.  So she could talk.

Rather than reprimand her daughter for rudeness, Eska said, “Here, give it to me,” and ate it herself, spat-out bite and all.  From the look on her face, it was clear that she shared Kinalik’s opinion, but at least she didn’t verbalize it.

They also ignored Asami’s hint that they might be more comfortable inside the house. Although Eska had removed Kinalik’s coat, she and Desna refused to take off their own.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” Asami asked.

“We like being uncomfortable,” Eska shot back. Korra and Asami glanced at each other and decided to drop the matter.  If they wanted to die of heatstroke, that was their problem.

Finally, they could just see someone approaching in the distance, so Korra went to meet Bolin at the archway.  Please don’t let him have brought Opal!

She shouted out a greeting, and felt a great relief that he had come alone.

“Korra, what’s going on?” he said.  He was somewhat pale.

“Um…what exactly did Mako tell you?”

“Just that Eska was at Asami’s house, and I should get my ass over there right now…and that oh yeah, I’m a dad now.”

“I’d say that about covers it.  Did you tell anything to Opal?”

“Didn’t have a chance to.  She was out shopping somewhere…I think the bookstore?”

Then something appeared to occur to him.

“How do I even know it’s…”

“Trust me. You’ll know.”

Bolin continued to look uneasy.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Korra assured him with maybe slightly more conviction than she felt.  To tell the truth, she didn’t have a good memory of what had happened between those two in the South, having been preoccupied with her own concerns at the time. There was something about a wedding, she knew that.

“I guess the last time we met she didn’t try to kill me, but still…” Bolin trailed off.

“Look, if she tries anything, I’ll be here to protect you, okay?”

“Okay…I guess.”

And off they went.

Kinalik’s resemblance to Bolin was of course immediately obvious to anybody who could see, which did away with any traces of doubt lingering in Bolin’s mind.   His legs went out from under him, and he sat down heavily on the porch floor.  There was complete silence for several seconds. Desna was pointedly looking away.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you tell me?” Bolin squeaked once he found his voice.

“There wasn’t exactly an opportune moment,” Eska deadpanned.

“But we met in the hotel lobby just a year ago!  Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“By the time that foolish employee stopped bothering us, you were far enough away that I would have had to shout it across the room.  And anyway…” Eska looked down and appeared uncharacteristically shy, “I assumed that you would have interpreted the news as another attempt to control you and become irate.”

“What’s irate mean?”

“Angry.”

“I wouldn’t have been angry!  I mean, yeah, I was really scared of you, and to be honest I still am, but I like kids. In fact, me and Opal were just talking about…” His torrent of words abruptly ceased as he realized what he’d just said.

“Oops,” he mumbled. Eska raised her eyebrows.

“I was already cognizant of you having another girlfriend, feeble turtleduck. Remember?  Although she is not apparently who I thought she was.”  She tapped her finger on her chin and added, “Opal…I have heard that name before.  Oh yes, she was the one on whom I hung up the phone.��

“Okaaayyy…”

Korra cleared her throat.

“I think some introductions might be in hand,” she prompted.  Eska took the hint.

“Indeed. Kinalik, this is Bolin. Bolin…Kinalik.”

“Hey there!” Bolin said as he beamed and reached for the child as if to pick her up.  Kinalik screeched and hid her face in Eska’s coat again.

“Don’t lunge at her like that!  She’s very sensitive!”  Eska scolded.

“Sorry…sorry,” Bolin mumbled as he backed off a few paces.

“She might not have much understanding of what a man actually is,” Desna opined; Korra had almost forgotten that he was there.  “She decided that Eska and I were both her mothers, and we saw no need to correct her just yet.”

“Agreed.  And her nurse is female, her nurse’s assistants are all female, and her grandfather is deceased. We had intended to introduce her to the concept at a later date, but…we were forced into circumstances that were less than ideal.”

Like Desna, Eska did not say exactly what these circumstances were.

“I have an idea!” Asami stated.  “How about we wrap things up for today and try again tomorrow, once…um…how do you pronounce her name again?”

“Kee-nah-leek.”

“Right, once Kinalik has a chance to get rested and used to the change of scenery.”

“That appears to be an adequate plan.”

“Right,” Bolin chimed in.  “And I have to…tell Opal, I guess, somehow.  How am I going to do that?  What if she thinks I was cheating on her?”

“What date did you meet her?”

Bolin was able to tell her approximately, although he wasn’t sure of the exact date.

“I brought a copy of Kinalik’s birth certificate.  I presume that your Opal know enough about mathematics to calculate that Kinalik was conceived about two months prior to that date.  Should I go locate its whereabouts?”

“No, no, we can save that for later.  Because you all look really tired and, uh, Opal will be wondering where I ran off to. And I have to talk to Mako as well. Fun fun fun. So bye.”

He turned and ran down the steps like someone was firebending his rear end.

“His fear is always amusing,” Eska remarked.

After that, the twins were at last convinced to move into the house.  Asami arranged for the best guest room to be made up for them, with an en suite full bathroom on the off chance that Desna actually did sleep there.

“It will do,” Eska said.

By then, it was too late for Korra to haul the rest of her stuff over, so she would spend the night.

Dinner was just as uncomfortable as the day’s other events had been.  Kinalik revealed herself to be an extremely picky eater, and turned her nose up at anything except for a bowl of plain noodles.  The twins did eat the regular meal of chicken and vegetable stir fry with rice, but Eska in particular picked at her food and hardly actually consumed anything.

Asami tried her hardest to include them in various conversation topics, including the plans for Korra’s upcoming move-in party, the weather (unusually warm for so early in the spring), and even pro-bending  (which was widely thought to never have been the same after Amon’s invasion).  But Eska and Desna mostly kept to monosyllabic answers, and excused themselves at the first possible opportunity.

It broke Korra’s heart to see her girlfriend looking progressively more crestfallen as the evening went on.  After dinner, Asami put on the ugly pajamas, which was code for “No sex tonight,” and went almost directly to bed.

Enough was enough. It was time for Korra to give Eska and Desna a piece of her mind, cousins or not, chieftains or not.

When she knocked on the guest bedroom door, she heard Kinalik start to fuss inside.

Eska opened the door and frowned at Korra.

“We just got her to sleep,” she informed her cousin.

“Sorry about that,” Korra answered.  “But we need to talk.”

Eska sighed, and said, “Fine.  But let us at least do so some distance away.”

Once they had reached the end the corridor, Korra faced her cousin straight on.

“Listen.  This rudeness towards Asami needs to stop right now. She is doing everything she can to make you comfortable-despite you showing up with no notice whatsoever-and you have not so much as thanked her even once.  If you have something against me, let me hear it. Don’t take it out on her.  Are we clear about this?”

Eska rocked back on her heels and looked genuinely caught off-guard for the first time that Korra had seen.

“If you had to endure what we have had to endure over the past thirty hours, then maybe you would be more empathetic,” she all but growled.

“I dunno, I’ve had to endure a lot!”

“You have never had to expel a human being from your nether regions.  Unless that was why you went back South.”

Now it was Korra’s turn to be caught off-guard.

“You. Absolute.  Bitch!  That was not the reason and you know it.”

“Well, at any rate, until you’ve feared for your child’s life, then maybe you should keep your oral orifice tightly SECURED!”

She turned and stomped back to her room.

“Eska, wait…what? What are you talking about?”

Eska paused at the door and said, “I was going to inform you tomorrow.  But maybe now I don’t feel like it.”  She opened the door wide as if to slam it, but caught herself just in time.

[crimsxnflxwerz]

Where I Belong

Rating: Not Rated [Rating May Change]

Summary: Nineteen years ago, a mage lost their child to thieves, a man found himself somewhere far from home, and a woman adopted an unusual orphan.

Today, Corrin fights to right the wrongs that have been done to their family, but they also fight the battle within themself to stay. To stay here, where they were raised, though their heart desperately longs for answers. What is this marking on the back of their neck? Why do they feel like they've never truly belonged here? Is there somewhere that they do belong?

Who is this man Chrom and what does he have to do with all this?

Pairing(s): Chrom/Robin, Other Minor Ships

Characters: Corrin, Robin, Chrom, Felicia, Lissa, Frederick, Other(s).

Tags: Nonbinary!Corrin, Trans!Robin, Trans Male Robin, Corrin & Robin & Chrom - family, Corrin is Robin & Chrom’s third child, That’s the wild headcanon.

Notes: This is meant to take place during the Fates DLC where Corrin and Felicia kill some ghosty soldiers that escape through a portal into Awakening’s world. If I mess up pronouns, please let me know. Even tho (they/them) are MY pronouns, I still get it messed up in writing sometimes! Anyways, thanks for reading!

“That's a forest.” Corrin said, peering through the small sliver of light. The area around the portal warped slightly, behaving more like a tear in fabric than the stable portals they’d seen before. Felicia clutched her skirt nervously, looking in over Corrin’s shoulder.

“It is, my Lord.” she agreed. “Not one I've ever seen before. Must be someplace far away.”

“Or,” Corrin backed away slightly. “Another world.”

The young Lord sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. The castle behind them was silent, besides the occasional bird chirp from a critter that had accidentally flown inside. Corrin looked down the marble hallway they stood in, listened to the absence of noise, considering what they could do next. Felicia watched Corrin silently, before placing a hand on their shoulder.

“My Lord, we have enough time to spare. Those people in that realm, they might be in danger.” She said firmly. “The palace can survive a moment without you.”

Corrin took a slow breath in, their hand travelling to the back of their neck. Under their hand a mark burned ever so slightly. The brand has been with them since they were an infant, at least according to a letter from their mother. No one could ever figure out what the mark meant. They just assumed it had something to do with their transformations. No one had ever seen a person transform Into a dragon quite like that. Of course, there have been legends, and maybe it was only a matter of time with the families bloodlines.

But for Corrin it was just another thing to separate them from everyone else. They didn't belong in either kingdom, they didn't belong in this world.

Corrin looked towards the portal once more. Every time they stepped into foreign land, a weight lifted off their shoulders. As if something deep inside of them was pulling them away from their own world. Corrin wasn't hesitant about killing those beasts, they weren't cautious of entering this foreign soil.

They were afraid that they would find someplace better. Someplace where they belonged. And something inside them would just refuse to leave.

“Okay,” they said. “Let's go.”

The two of them stepped through the portal and into a forest. A few feet ahead of them the tree line broke, revealing a beautiful valley, divided down the middle by a sparkling river.

“How pretty,” Felicia idly commented. Corrin couldn't agree more. The air was heavy with the sweet smell of spring. Trees bloomed thousands of tiny, white flowers amongst their new leaves. A gorgeous assortment of plants filled the valley. Down near the river were some of the tallest cattails they’d ever seen.

Suddenly, a scream was heard to their left. They easily spotted a cleared path through the trees and hurried along it. When they emerged from the forest into a smaller clearing, they witnessed the partially visible soldiers that had escaped through the portal earlier. The creatures had cornered a maiden. She donned an elegant yellow dress, her blonde locks in high, wavy pigtails. She clutched a staff for dear life, likely confused by her faceless attackers. Corrin broke into a sprint, cutting down several soldiers in their way, Felicia following close behind.

One of the mage creatures raised a tome to strike the girl, when a large man on a horse broke through the trees and struck the mage through the chest with a lance. Corrin stopped in their tracks, watching the man with a lance carefully. He was built, riding a horse with an unrecognizable flag on it's flank, holding a long lance. The girl hopped up onto the horse, wrapping one arm around the man's waist and the other bracing the staff at her side.

Corrin was broken from their trance when Felicia knocked them back to avoid a mage attack. All four of them flew back into battle against the phantom soldiers, determined to clear the area.

Corrin stuck to using their sword for the time being. Especially considering the fact that they had no idea about the natives opinion of dragon blooded individuals. They didn't want to startle them either, throwing them off could be deadly in the heat of battle.

Then suddenly, a phantom soldier struck Felicia away with the broadside of it's axe. In an instant, Corrin was isolated, surrounded by soldiers, preparing their weapons for the kill. That's when they heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming up on them. Expecting a phantom knight, Corrin braced for the worst.

“Out of my way!”

A figure jumped over Corrin and brought his sword down heavy on the axe wielder who struck Felicia. The man's flowing white cape partially obstructed Corrin’s view, but from what they could see, he was taking out enemy after enemy in quick succession.

Corrin was shell shocked for a moment, before jumping back onto their feet and fighting back to back with the man that rescued them.

Eventually, all the soldiers were cleared out, leaving the ragtag group panting. Felicia was sitting on the ground, hand firmly grasping a wound on her arm. Upon seeing this, Corrin dashed over despite their weariness.

“Felicia! You're wounded!” They panicked. Their heart pounded in their chest. “Is it just your arm? Show me!”

Felicia shook her head. “My Lord, it's fine.”

“No, don't be like this,” Corrin clenched their teeth. They opened their mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a tap on their shoulder.

“I can help,” the blonde girl from earlier stood behind them, pigtails dancing as she bounced excitedly. “It won't be any trouble. Just let me see.”

Corrin looked to Felicia for approval. When she nodded, they backed off and let the girl do her thing.

“My name is Lissa, by the way.” She said, kneeling down to check out Felicia's wound. “Thank you for helping us.”

Corrin fell into a heavy blush as the gesture. They wanted to argue that they were the reason everyone had been in danger in the first place, but instead kept their mouth shut, unsure of what to say.

The man on the horse dismounted and approached them cautiously.

“I agree, you could have run off, but instead chose to fight, I compliment the mentality.” The man said. “My name is Frederick, by the way.”

Then the last one of the group clapped a hand down on Corrin’s shoulder and grinned.

“And I’m Chrom, Lissa’s older brother. It's a pleasure to meet the two of you.” He said. Then, awkwardly, “even though the circumstances aren't ideal.”

Corrin blushed again. They cleared their throat. “My name is Corrin, that woman with me is Felicia.”

Felicia waved at Frederick and Chrom. Corrin smiled fondly at her, before returning his gaze to Chrom.

The man felt oddly… familiar. He was a little taller than average, with royal blue hair, short and relatively kept. He had vibrant blue eyes, and a generous smile. Even though it looked as if he were trying to blend in with his somewhat tattered clothes, it was obvious by his sword that he was royalty. The sword was magnificent. A large, silver blade with gold accents and a decorated hilt.

“Your sword, it's gorgeous.” Corrin commented, waving towards it. “Are you royalty?”

Now, it was Chrom's turn to blush.

“Is it really that obvious?” He said, scratching absently behind his ear.

“Well, I've never known a common man to have such an elegant weapon.” Corrin explained. Frederick looked on warily.

“And you, your friend there called you 'Lord’. You must be royalty as well,” Frederick pointed out. “From where do you hail?”

Corrin blushed heavily again. It was very apparent on their pale skin. They glanced back at Felicia.

“Someplace far from here. I doubt you have heard of it.” They said. Frederick raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Enough of that, would you care to join us for lunch? We were just making our rounds. I would be honored to have you.” Chrom said. “Just one meal and you may be off.”

Corrin bit their lip. Lissa just finished up with Felicia. The pink haired servant approached Corrin and placed a hand on their arm, nodding softly when they looked over to her. Corrin mentally scrambled for the proper words to display their gratitude.

“O-of course.” They stuttered. “I am quite hungry actually, and I would love to get to know you better.”

“Perfect!” Chrom said cheerily. “Onward then! We haven't got much daylight left!”

Chrom turned around to walk on, and as he did so, Corrin got a good look at his shoulder. On his exposed shoulder was a mark that resembled the mark on the back of their neck. No, not just resembled, an exact replica. Felicia felt Corrin freeze up, and she looked forward to try and recognize what had her Lord acting like this. She noticed the mark as well and raised her eyebrows, but stayed silent.

After a moment, Lissa nudged Felicia. She snapped out of her little trance and looked over to her.

“You comin?” she asked, motioning towards where Chrom was walking. Felicia nodded slightly, and pulled Corrin along as they began walking. Lissa hopped up on the back of Frederick’s horse, and the group caught up with their retreating prince.

As they passed beautiful scenery, Corrin waged an inner war with themself. Do they talk to Chrom? Do they pry into Chrom’s life? Why does he have that mark? Does Lissa bear the same one? Their head was so filled with questions, that they didn’t even hear the person trying to talk to them.

They felt a small shove that snapped them out of their own mind space. They frantically looked around and saw that Felicia stood next to them looking a little annoyed. She gestured to Corrin’s other side, and when they looked, Chrom was walking alongside Corrin looking a little awkward.

“Oh Gods,” they gaped, blushing hard at their own incompetence. “Were you trying to talk to me? I do apologize, I can get quite lost in my own head sometimes.”

Chrom simply laughed at that, and shook his head. “Oh, no worries! My older sister is actually quite like that sometimes, so I’m used to it.”

“Your older sister?” Corrin asked, taking their chance to learn more about the prince.

“Ah, yes, her name is Emmeryn. She is the Exalt of Ylisse.” he said, although then he made a soft noise and included, “ah, my apologies, you do not hail from here. Exalt is the title of the head of the royal family. Our parents passed ages ago, leaving a mess behind for us to fix. My sister, she is very strong, stronger than me I would say. She has been leading the way towards peace ever since she rose to power.”

“That’s good to hear. I come from a similar situation, actually.” Corrin said. “In my land, there are two warring families that just don’t see eye to eye. They knew peace once before, and I am striving to bring that peace back. It’s always been hard, since I empathize with both sides.”

“That must be quite a burden on your shoulders.” Chrom said. Corrin barely caught it, but there was a glimpse of a far away look in the prince’s eye. “It’s hard when you want to save everyone. That’s just not how it works in times of war, unfortunately.”

“Yes, I can agree with that.” Corrin said solemnly. Unwilling to let the conversation die, they finally mustered up the courage to ask. “I don’t wish to pry, but I was curious about the brand on your shoulder. What is it?”

“Oh, that?” Chrom asked, glancing down at his own shoulder. The mark was specifically exposed for people to witness. It must be important. “That is my--”

“Chrom! There’s someone over there in the grass,” Lissa shouted from atop Frederick’s horse, effectively interrupting what Chrom was about to say. “They’re laying down, I think they might be injured!”

“Show me.” Chrom demanded, and Lissa pointed towards a lone tree in a valley they had been traversing the cusp of. The prince started to move in that direction, waving Corrin on to come with him. “Let’s go!”

Chrom and Corrin dashed through the grass, the rest of the part following close behind. They eventually came to the tree that Lissa had pointed out, and found a sleeping figure. They looked like a young adult, probably male. In fact, they somewhat resembled Corrin, with their white hair and pale skin. It wasn’t often that Corrin saw other youths with such pure white hair. Corrin crouched down next to the sleeping man and leaned over him. He was dressed in layers, his outermost layer being a cloak that reminded them of a mage. Laying near them was a powerful looking tome.

“He doesn’t look injured, thank the Gods,” Chrom said finally. When Corrin looked back at the prince, they could see the hint of a blush on Chrom’s cheeks. That definitely wasn’t from the running. Once Lissa, Frederick, and Felicia caught up, they also cautiously observed the situation.

“Don’t get so close, my Lord,” Felicia said. She looked apprehensive, but the man looked like he was simply taking a nap. There was something in Corrin that drew them to him. They ignored Felicia’s worry and reached out, gently brushing the back of their fingers along the man’s cheek. Corrin heard someone gasp behind them, likely out of how bold the gesture had been. However, Corrin was more concerned with how the man stirred, slowly blinking his eyes open.

“He’s waking up,” Corrin said, backing off once the man was fully awake. Chrom and Lissa came forward to lean over him.

“Hello there,” Lissa said with a welcoming smile. Chrom also looked on warmly at the stranger.

“There’s better places to sleep than the ground, you know.” he said. Then he reached out his hand. “Here, take my hand.”

The man grabbed the tome lying near him almost instinctively before reaching for Chrom’s hand. When the prince pulled him up, he only stepped back slightly, so that the two nearly came nose to nose. The two blushed and looked away from each other quickly, Chrom laughing and scratching behind his ear.

“Uh- um, what’s your name?” Chrom asked, once Lissa and Felicia had stopped chuckling at the interaction. The mage rubbed his hand delicately, and Corrin noticed a strange mark there. It was kind of unsettling, three pairs of eyes watching from the man’s hand.

“My name is, uh,” he seemed to falter for a moment, before brightening up again. “R-Robin. My name is Robin. And you’re Chrom?”

“Y-You know who I am?” Chrom stuttered. “How’s that?”

“I dunno, it just came to me suddenly…” Robin flinched. “My head aches.”

Robin looked around where they were curiously. There was absolutely no recognition on his face. He looked rather lost, actually. Corrin blinked their red eyes at him. Robin turned his head and made eye contact with the young Lord.

“Do- do I know you from somewhere?” Corrin asked then, hesitantly. Robin’s eyes widened slightly, as if he were remembering something. He cleared his throat, holding his tome to his chest.

“Uh, uh, I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I don’t remember much of anything, actually. Other than my name, and even that is kind of foggy.”

“You don’t remember anything?” Chrom interrupted. The group fell silent. It was then that Frederick chimed in.

“Your robes, they resemble that of the Plegian people.” he said darkly. “Would you happen to be on their side, young mage?”

“I-I’m not sure what you mean. Who are the Plegians?” Robin asked, looking genuinely confused. Frederick was about to open his mouth to say more, when Corrin rounded on him with a fierce stare.

“Can’t you see he’s confused? We must get him some food and water, he might be famished,” Corrin said hurriedly. Everyone stared, shock apparent on their faces. “He has no memory, what of it? We aren’t helpless babes, if he is a spy we will find out soon enough. For now he is our ally.”

After Corrin’s outburst, everyone seemed to snap to attention. Chrom turned away and moved to speak with Frederick about something, and Lissa and Felicia came over to inspect Robin’s condition. Corrin stayed close to Robin. They were curious, but also wanted to help Robin out. Feeling lost and alone wasn’t fun, Corrin knew that personally.

When Corrin approached Robin, the man smiled kindly at them.

“Thank you for that, I’m feeling really disoriented.” he said softly with a chuckle. “It’s not fun to be drilled when you first wake up, especially if you have amnesia.”

“Oh yeah, amnesia, that’s what it’s called!” Lissa said. “I wonder if there’s some kind of potion or remedy to correct it…”

Robin chuckled again at the concept. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know, unfortunately.” Corrin laughed a little at that, too.

“It’s no problem, Robin. I know what it’s like to be the odd one out. In fact, my friend and I are just passing through.” they said. “Oh, we haven’t been properly introduced. My apologies, my name is Corrin, these two are Felicia and Lissa.”

Robin nodded at the information. “Just passing through? Where are you from?”

“Someplace far away, I’m afraid,” Corrin said, hesitant to reveal the location to even this man with no memories. “We found ourselves here after tracking down a few dangerous men. I felt it was my responsibility to make sure they didn’t harm anyone. That’s how we ran into Chrom.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re here.” Robin said, almost shyly. “How much longer will you stick around?”

Corrin glanced over at Felicia, who was speaking softly with Lissa. She looked happy. Corrin turned back towards Robin and simply took him in for a moment. Something in their chest was screaming for them to stay, as if this was truly where they belonged. Maybe it was all coming together. The brand on Chrom’s shoulder, this fair-haired stranger. The rolling hills and serene fields filled with flora and fauna.

There was a darkness here, too. A darkness hovering over everything. It was like the moments before a bad thunderstorm when the hair on your arms stood straight up. In truth, Corrin knew they had to leave sooner than later, but when was sooner?

“I’m not sure yet.” They said. Robin gave them the sweetest smile, a hand gently squeezing their shoulder.

“Well, I hope that you enjoy the time you spend here, with this company,” Robin said. “And once you depart, I hope that we meet again.”

Corrin was a little speechless for a moment, before they shook themself out of it.

“Yeah.”

[imaginetonyandbucky]

A/B/O Au. Bucky is an army sniper who has a whirlwind romance with Tony. While on leave he introduces Tony to his Army buds, who do not take kindly to Tony because they think he's using Bucky for good PR. So before Bucky goes back on tour they break up. Fast Forward 3years Bucky wandering aimlessly through towns (without an arm) bumps into Tony whose got a young boy that oddly resembles Bucky when he was younger. ANGST please.

The Long Way Round - Part I of IV

[Part II] | [Part III] | [Part IV]

2013

When Bucky’s finally fought his way back through the crowded pub and slides into their booth, he immediately notices how the mood has turned sour. It’s subtle, but Bucky’s known these guys for years, and something’s definitely up.

Jacques and Gabe have their heads bent together, and are talking in quiet, hissed French, turned away from the rest of the group. Morita’s resting bitch face has reached an entirely new level, Monty is typing away on his phone, and even Dum Dum, although still trying to keep up the conversation, is much less buoyant and blustering than usual. And then there’s Tony, shoulders hunched and shrunk in on himself, eyes fixed on a spot on the table as he worries his bottom lip.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers, and bumps their knees together, frowning when Tony startles, and pulls his leg away. “Everythin’ all right? Did somethin’ happen while I was gone?”

Tony shakes his head, the movement a little jerky. “It’s nothing,” he says, flat. It’s clearly a lie, but before Bucky can call him out on it, he adds, “Just not feeling it tonight. I might turn in early, actually, if that’s okay?”

“‘Course, yeah,” Bucky says, reaching for his jacket. “Walk you home?”

For a moment, it looks like Tony’s going to say no. But then he swallows, hard, and nods, even smiles a little in thanks when Bucky helps him into his coat, and leans into Bucky’s side, albeit somewhat stiffly, when Bucky curls an arm around him.

“Breakfast tomorrow before we gotta catch our plane?” Bucky asks the rest of the table, getting nods and a few murmured confirmations in return. None of them tease or rib him for leaving after just one beer, and Bucky squints at them for a moment, suspicious, before he shrugs, and leads Tony out onto the street.

(Watch out for the break, mobile readers!)

They walk in not entirely comfortable silence after Tony keeps blocking Bucky’s attempts at talking with short, one-word answers, clearly distracted by something. It’s not until they get to Tony’s apartment complex that Tony finally looks at Bucky again, his mouth downturned as he places a firm hand on Bucky’s chest when Bucky goes to follow him into the lobby.

“What? Not gonna invite me up for coffee?” Bucky asks, trying for joking in hopes of cheering Tony up. The flirty smile begins to slide off his face, though, when Tony shakes his head, opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Hey, no. C’mon, sweetheart, talk to me? What’s wrong?”

He goes to touch Tony’s cheek, eyes widening and hand hovering awkwardly in the air between them when Tony takes a step back. “Tony?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” Tony blurts out in a rush. “It’s—I think it’s for the best. If we stop.”

It takes a moment for the meaning of the words to register, but when it does, Bucky turns cold, stomach sinking. “Are—are you breakin’ up with me? Tony—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony hurries to reassure, reading Bucky’s mind. “You were perfect, Bucky, I swear you were. Are. This. It’s not. It’s really not you,” he says with a small, humourless chuckle, “it’s me.”

Bucky looks at the tense line of Tony’s shoulders, at the sad set of his mouth, the defeat in his eyes, and he knows it’s the truth. Or, at least, what Tony believes to be true. “Tony, sweetheart, I don’t understand—”

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Tony says quietly as he backs away towards the door. Then, voice breaking on what sounds suspiciously like a sob, “Bucky, please.”

There’s nothing Bucky wants more than to reach out, wrap his arms around Tony, draw him in and hold him tight, kiss away the tears he can see glistening at the corners of Tony’s eyes. But Bucky’s never been able to refuse Tony, to deny him a single thing, especially not when he’s upset, and not even, it turns out, if it breaks his own heart. So Bucky nods, throat tight, and shoves his hands into his pockets instead.

“If—if you want to talk,” Bucky croaks, and has to clear his throat before he can continue, “about this, us, about something else. Or if you need me, if you need anything at all. You call me, a’right?” He waits until Tony hesitantly meets his eyes, needing Tony to see how serious he is about this, then promises, “I will find time for you. Doesn’t matter where I am, what I’m doing. I’ll make time for you, Tony. Always. I’ll—I’ll bribe Colonel Phillips to give me phone privileges, whatever it takes. I’ll do it.”

Tony’s crying fully now, and Bucky’s helpless to watch him wipe at his cheeks, doesn’t know what to do, how to fix it when Tony hiccups, wet and pained, “I’m sorry,” before turning around, and fleeing inside.

“Hey,” Steve calls as Bucky closes the door to their apartment behind himself. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry. Peggy cooked, don’t worry. Oh! She wanted me to ask you—”

He cuts off abruptly when Bucky rounds the corner into the living room, throws himself down on the couch face first, and pulls the comforter folded over its back down and over himself. “Buck? You okay?”

“No,” Bucky says, muffled. “Tony broke up with me.” When several seconds pass without Steve saying anything, Bucky shoves the comforter down enough to glance over at him, hackles raising at Steve’s almost relieved expression. “What?”

“Well. You know,” Steve says, shrugging. “It’s not exactly a surprise, is it?”

Bucky blinks at him. “The fuck are you talkin’ about? We were fine.”

The way Steve grimaces, he apparently doesn’t agree. “Buck, c’mon. He’s nineteen, smart, absurdly rich—

“So, what?” Bucky cuts in snappishly. “You’re sayin’ I’m not good enough for him? Tony doesn’t care about shit like that. An’ I thought you didn’t, either.”

Steve glares at him. “You know damn well that’s not what I’m saying. You’re a catch, anyone’d be lucky to have you.”

“Anyone but Tony?” Bucky sits up properly, pointing an accusing finger at Steve. “You never liked him, anyway. You never even gave him a chance to—”

“Because I knew this would happen!” Steve yells back, throwing his hands up in the air. “Bucky, be serious for a moment. Tony is young, with the world at his feet, and people lining up to get a piece of him. He’s—flighty, he’s never had a stable relationship before you came along. I want you to be happy, you know I do, but him getting bored of you was exactly what I was afraid of when—”

“That’s not what happened,” Bucky insists, standing.

Steve shrugs, but his pitying expression belies his nonchalance. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“I’m going to bed,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t wanna fight with you on my last day home.”

Bucky doesn’t fall asleep until hours later, though, curled up on top of his blankets, clutching a pillow that still smells faintly of Tony, his heart heavy and a lump in his throat.

- Potrix

[xansoverall]

I feel bad for stealing this account.

Of course I do. I feel bad about it every single day. I didn’t think I was even capable of hurting KT but this was the closest thing I could do to hurting her, which in turn brought me even more pain. A large part of me wants her back despite everything she put me through, though I know she’s never coming back. She was my everything for a solid month and by everything, I mean EVERYTHING. I never thought about anything for myself, it was always about “us” and “we” for me. Even now, I have trouble thinking about doing things without also picturing KT there by my side...

Now, when I think about other women, including the ones I thought about before and during my time with KT, I question if I’m actually interested in them or if I’m just rebounding... Before KT, I didn’t think I’d ever end up with someone, now I just feel like a desperate bitch whenever I talk to anyone I’m interested in.

Another problem I’ve come to find myself with is that I’ve rolled back my mentality to about two years ago- I don’t gove a fuck, I just want to get high. I told KT about this jokingly a few times but I truly meant it. Before KT, I was doing well at Walmart with a fairly stable job. I didn’t steal from my employer, nor did I do drugs often. The most I did in the 9 months of working at walmart was buy 5 Xanax Bars to help me sleep. After I met KT, I started stealing a whole lot of shit from Walmart, as well as getting fucked up before I went to work. I got fired while I was high because I went and smoked with KT before I went to work. Now, all I do every day is get high as shit on an assortment of different drugs. Today, I took 50mg Ephedrine HCL, 15g Kratom, probably around .1g of Keif and about 3 shots of Whiskey and it’s only 7:30pm. Tomorrow, I’m buying a half gram of Coke and hopefully getting 500ug of ALD-52 in the mail. Down the road, I’m expecting to buy 1-2 Grams of 2F-DCKetamine, 250-500mg of 4-AcO-DMT, at least a gram of O-DSMT, and maybe 4Fluoro-Methylphenidate or the like.

Of course, this isn’t entirely her fault. I didn’t tell her about it, but I was going through an extreme, random spike in depression when I met and started dating her. About a week into us dating, I started having suicidal thoughts and eventually a full breakdown. I tried explaining to her what I was going through but had a very difficult time. She lacked any care for my feelings so I just kept falling deeper and deeper into depression until the only thing keeping me happy was being able to see KT almost every day. After that stopped, I had nothing.

She broke up with me 3 times in total. The first time was likely because we’d only just met and because of her BPD, she lost interest(or of course, she cheated on me, that’s always extremely possible and I’ll never know for sure). The second time, she for she broke up with me because she cheated on me. I won’t say how, but I know for a fact that she cheated with me this time.

The third time she broke up with me is by far the most odd senario.

We’d been living with each other for about 2 weeks and she was invited to go back home for a few days. She didn’t tell me about this trip until 4 days before she went. We’d agreed to getting married about a week before she left (Though I’m not sure if she was being serious or not, I was completely serious. I’d even written a note on my phone saying something along the lines of “Stick to it man, she’s good for you. If you can help her out of this pain and depression that she’s in now, maybe someday she’ll marry you”), so I was concerned as to why she’d kept this trip from me. At this point I remembered her saying “This isn’t fun anymore” a few days before she told me. I didn’t expect her to straight up leave and never come back because all her stuff was in my room at my house. Well, she eventually got up there and a few days in she told me she wanted to live up there and formally invited me to go with. I told her that I’d go anywhere with her in a heartbeat. The next day, she texted me saying she was given an intervention and that she decided she was going to stay there with her family and make a better life for herself. I asked her if her offer was still on the table for me to go up there and live with her, her answer was something along the lines of “I’m sorry, but I don’t love you. I wish I could’ve told you in person but I’m up here and you’re down there”.

It’s been over a month now. I still think about her almost daily. Luckily for me, I don’t think about her or hurt for her nearly as much as I did for the Sociopath.

KT, if you’re reading this for some reason, I’m sorry. Stealing this wasn’t my intention, it was in the heat of the moment. If I was able to give it all back to you, I would(But I can’t). I might as well come out and say everything that I didn’t have the heart to say in person here.

I don’t like Benzo’s AT ALL. They don’t do much to me except give me amnesia and make me tired. If I had to stick to one Class of Drug for the rest of my life, it’d be Hallucinogens and after that, Opiates(Though that could change after 2F-DCKetamine).

I had a voice in the back of my head constantly warning me about your cheating on me and I refused to listen. Every single day, even the ones that you were here in my home, my mind wandered aimlessly, constantly reminding me of all the different ways you could cheat on me, even in my home. Turns out that voice was right in every single way.

I was constantly hurt by things you said and the way you acted. You stopped telling me you loved me a week before you left, I noticed that, and it hurt more than I could put into words. The only time you’d say “I love you” is when I told you first. The night I told you “I love you” and you responded with “Yeah, yeah, I know you do” was quite possibly the hardest night of my entire life. It felt like my entire world was getting erased. I could quite literally feel you losing feelings for me until they were completely gone.

I would’ve forgiven you every single time you cheated on me if you’d just told me in the first place rather than break up with me and leave me in the dark. I would’ve had a panic attack, sure, but at I would’ve been at least somewhat understanding about it.

Oh and remember that night where you asked me if I still loved you? I know you were having a dream about another dude. What’s sad is that I was actually trying to help you sleep by holding you and kissing your cheek and such because it looked like you were having a nightmare and doing those things seemed to help you a lot...

And the worst part about all of this is that if you were to text me five minutes from now telling me that you did in fact love me after all, I’d come crawling back to you quicker than the time it’d take for me to tie a Noose to the ceiling.

You told me you were in love with drugs and now I can see why- Drugs don’t leave.

I love you KT, but please don’t come back. I changed up all my life plans for you but your spontaneity is just as bad as Mom’s and it ruined anything that I had that resembled a plan... The only way I’d be okay with you coming back is if you prove that you’ve evolved from talking to other men or women the way you did when we were dating. From what I can tell, that will literally never happen and therefore, you’re never allowed back into my life.

EDIT: Yes, I still want to die with you, KT... I don’t think I’ll ever not want to...

[32flavasshoetique]

cambodian woman

Cambodian Brides

cambodian mail order bride are just one of global internet datings best-kept techniques. This is actually certainly not Thailand. It’ s not even Vietnam.

Cambodia is farther, a lot more typical, and more clean than those additional popular worldwide dating locations. It is actually not the most ideal place to go if you want five-star resorts, wonderful restaurants, and also really good streets.

But if you are actually seeking to marry a stunning woman along withan incredibly various overview on the globe than a lot of western girls it is actually an excellent area to think about.

The Belief of the Submissive Oriental Bride-to-be

Most Cambodian new brides mature in a totally various globe a world just before online dating, the internet, and even cold and hot managing water in most of the muchsmaller metropolitan areas and also communities. Cambodia is actually still a very bad country. In some concerns it is actually 3 a century responsible for the USA, Europe, and also various other strongly established countries.

It is a simpler way of living and growing up suchas this suggests that Cambodian bride-to-bes truly wishto become definitely traditional Eastern better halves.

That performs NOT mean they desire to be actually ” passive ” servants to their partners, yet it performs indicate they are actually muchmore able to endure a man than the majority of Western women will be. Thus, if you do choose to love a stunning Cambodian bride-to-be perform certainly not take advantage of the condition. Perform not be among the tiny portion of fellas that Need to Not Be Actually Dating Mail Order Brides!

Do not capitalize on the scenario and also abuse it. Yes, cambodian woman intend to have a traditional Eastern relationship. They carry out not intend to be addressed as a ” subject partner ” that is actually a 2nd lesson person. The subservient mail order new bride is just one of the worse myths regarding global dating.

Dating, Marital Relationship, Household, and Mail Order Brides

Look, it’ s effortless to look at the planet our team live in today and also think about where everything made a mistake. The huge large number of males reading this article will have not a problem withequal rights for females, but you’ re made to feel guilty for simply being actually a guy, plus all thanks to third-wave feminist movement. They have actually altered the significance of courting, marriage, family members in the West, and created mail order bride-to-bes even more desirable to a great deal of men.

Of all the worldwide courting areas you may have thought to visit, our experts’ re quite certain that Cambodia’didn ‘ t even bring in the listing.

And you ‘ re not alone during that thinking since we know that this country is still experiencing the early stages of worldwide dating, so most guys simply forget it and go to Thailand, China, or the Philippines instead.

But in this extensive article, our company’ re heading to clarify why Cambodia could be sucha fantastic option for finding single women for marital relationship.

This is actually still an exceptionally inadequate country by worldwide criteria, so it lacks the money to come to be the contemporary country it wants to be.

For immediately the only real immigrants that usually tend to check out Cambodia are actually either young backpackers traveling the globe on a finances, or old men looking to enjoy the affordable of lifestyle, the cheap draft beer, and also even less expensive woman of the streets. Yet the expat area is little matched up to Thailand, the Philippines, or perhaps Vietnam.

What there is a distinctive shortage of in Cambodia is younger, singular, financially stable males from Europe, The United States And Canada, and Australasia. It’ s one of those handful of nations where numerous regional women have actually never seen a youthful foreign male on the local dating scene.

In some areas, people might actually point as well as stare at you merely given that you’ re certainly not a backpacker or even a 70-year-old alcoholic whose finest years lag all of them.

Cambodia is actually a nation of option for solitary men trying to find cambodian woman It’ s important that our team pull a difference below between mail-order bride-to-bes and international dating since the principle of mail order brides in Cambodia is actually very muchdiscredited.

The factor for this is that there has in the past been actually substantial individual contraband of young women to China as well as some others countries in Asia. So our company advise that you perform not refer to mail-order brides while you’ re right here, even thoughyou ‘ re only joking concerning it.

The Cambodian government lately passed regulation outlawing Khmer ladies coming from getting married to Western side guys who are over half a century of age.

Even if you’ re under 50 you still require to become able to prove that you gain in between US$ 2,500 as well as US$ 2,850 monthly. This was carried out to discourage older guys preying on Khmer females that were actually acute to get away coming from hardship.

Something else to become familiar withabout Cambodia is actually that overall the nation still struggling to enter the 21st century. Checking out here resembles going to Thailand in the 1950s, whichis pleasant in its personal technique, however it likewise suggests that the nation is actually still finding its own footing in a contemporary planet.

If you can picture what many of Asia seemed like prior to particular soiled Western influences, at that point you’ ll have a fairly correct picture of what Cambodia feels like today.

What will definitely stun you is the amount of Khmer girls who talk satisfactory English, even thoughthe education and learning device in the nation is actually still straining to recover coming from its own days under socialism.

Girls you satisfy succeeded’ t talk well-versed English, however it will certainly be far better than you anticipated. So, you can easily avoid the foreign language sessions this moment.

Your very first inclination will be to move to a regional bar for an alcoholic beverage after you’ ve looked into your lodging. That’ s penalty, but certainly never take a cost-free cocktail from a peculiar woman.

They’ ll be charming AF, but the draft beer is actually drugged and you’ re about to become the following target of a quite financially rewarding mugging sham that targets naïve visitors.

Your Assumptions

The first thing you’ re perhaps wondering about is what Cambodian women seem like? This all relies on their cultural heritage, therefore you’ ll locate that the substantial large number of cambodian woman are actually merely over 5 feets tall, possess almond-shaped brownisheyes, long directly dark hair and are actually obviously pretty dark-skinned.

If, however, the female contends the very least one Mandarin parent you’ ll discover that she is somewhat taller than the typical Khmer girl, and also her skin is slightly lighter too.

There are specific points whichare consistent around all Khmer ladies, and also these consist of the simple fact that even girls taken into consideration to become quite beefy listed below are actually still muchslimmer than ladies that lug the exact same label in Western countries.

In simple fact, girls who are actually thought about to be obese below will definitely be taken into consideration to be a suitable weight in The United States and Canada or even Europe, as an example.

Cambodian girls are actually gentle throughtheir exact attributes, sometimes to the point of seeming passive however never suppose that to become the situation.

The lifestyle of any kind of offered country will certainly have a straight impact on the behavior of its own consumers, and in Cambodia that has actually led to girls being actually hot and thoughtful towards others.

You’ re possibly straining to keep in mind the final time a Western side woman presented you any comfort or even sympathy without very first seeing the materials of your checking account, right?

That doesn’ t indicate that you need to have to become abundant to land Khmer brides due to the fact that her typical monthly profit is lower than $200, so whatever you’ re making above that are going to appear like a fortune to her.

In truth, if you make everything over $1500 per monththat means you can live a lifestyle she might just ever before long for.

Because the women listed below are normally small and also appear rather younger it may be really complicated to determine their age –- a girl who is 21 might seem like she’ s 12 and also a girl that ‘ s 15 might be mistaken for a gal who is 25.

So, certainly never take place a time witha neighborhood lady without viewing a travel permit or even some type of recognition. This could appear like a drastic move to create, yet it’ s mucha lot less of a hassle after that being actually detained due to the authorities for getting drinks for a minor person.

Foreigners are referred to as ” barangs ” due to the residents, whichis actually simply regional jargon, as well as certainly not an outrage in the direction of you. It performs take a long time for them to quit carrying out that though.

Sex tourist in Cambodia is actually a fait accompli, as it is actually throughout the remainder of Asia, so it’ s important that you don’ t outfit, act, or even speak like a sex vacationer.

Even one thing as simple as drinking water instead of draft beer all the time can be sufficient to directly transform how any sort of Khmer woman perspectives you.

Where you stay will definitely likewise mention a whole lot about you, thus despite the fact that all the night life and activity might be focused around the red light district, that’ s the extremely last location you desire to remain.

cambodian woman will certainly live at home withtheir parents, even if she’ s in her late twenties. This is an incredibly traditional nation, as well as althoughit’ s certainly not a Christian nation the prevalent faithis actually Buddhism as well as little ones are actually taught to recognize their senior citizens.

So there is actually very little chance of her costs the night withyou after your initial time, and also to become sincere, that’ s the last thing you want because then she is actually no various than a lot of the immoral women you can easily come across anywhere in NorthAmerica or Europe.

Khmer girls are actually as typical as their moms and dads, even thoughthe lifestyle in the country is actually transforming pretty quickly.

This means that she will wishyou to verify that you’ re thinking about muchmore than simply having sex withher and also you observe a future withher as your other half or lasting partner.

from 32flavas https://ift.tt/2UQpAtJ via IFTTT

[addict-with-pen]

Echoes of Rosegold (Pt 6)

Astria landed carefully in front of the stables, where Mara had been waiting for the two to return. Zilanna steered Astria up to the barn’s entrance then handed the reins to Mara. Mill slid off the snowy pegasus first, then carefully helped Zilanna slide off as well. She nodded thanks to him before turning to Mara.

“Could you give her some treats for me?”

“Sure thing, hun~” Mara nodded. “A few carrots oughta tell her how appreciated she is.”

“You’re literally the best, Mara.” Zilanna grinned, then turned to Mill. “We better get you back to your sister.”

“Yeah.” Mill nodded. “What about your family? Aren't they gonna be mad you left the party thing?”

“Naaah.” she shook her head. “They’re used to it by now.”

“So you do that a lot?”

“Yuuuup.” She nodded. “That’s why I’ve made it a habit to keep a spare change of clothes in there. Hey…” she turned to him. “We talked about my weapons but what about yours? Just a bow?”

“Just a bow~” Mill nodded. “But I’m a mounted archer, so I have an amazing horse.”

“Really?” she laughed. “You were so excited over Astria, I kinda thought you didn’t have any animals.”

“No, we have a few horses. Just no pegasi.” he shrugged. “Pegasus knights are actually kind of hard to come by.”

“Especially in Rigel, I’d bet. Most pegasi tend to be in Zofia, if I remember right. It’s too harsh in the north for them. Add in Duma’s particular principles and...yeah. Not a great a environment for pegasi.” Zilanna said thoughtfully. Mill frowned.

“I take it you’re not fond of Duma’s teachings?”

“I’m not fond of Duma’s Faithful. Or his witches.” Zilanna told him. “He has solid principles. But there are flaws. Just like there are flaws with the Mother’s teachings. I was sent to a priory for a while. I learned much about both Mother Mila and Duma’s teachings.”

“Why a priory? If you weren’t planning on being a priestess, why go?” Mill tilted his head, to which the girl beside him shrugged.

“I never said I didn’t have plans to become a priestess. I had to leave the priory, though. With the bandits becoming more and more of a problem, I was needed at home to help defend our lands.” Zilanna sighed and looked at the tall manor that had just started to come into view, with white walls and silvery spires. “I think the bandits are why Father and Lord Miran and some of the Rigel nobles have started having these parties. If Zofians and Rigelians can team up to defend their borders, then we might be able to put a stop to the bandits. Or significantly reduce the problem. The Terrors are becoming more and more of a problem too…” she stopped walking as they approached the door that she had initially dragged Mill through in her desperate attempt to escape Irene. She turned to face Mill, who looked back at her out of concerned red and gold eyes. Zilanna gave a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry. My father’s been talking with me a lot about these problems to prepare me for when I have to lead the house. It’s been weighing on my mind a lot.”

Mill gave her a soft smile as he gently rested a hand on her shoulder. “No, don’t apologize. I think it’s good that you care about your people. I know my parents have been worried too. Actually, they were here tonight. They got here later than us kids. Had to take care of something.”

Zilanna hummed. “Maybe our families should work together? I know your family has to be having at least some of the troubles mine is.”

“It’s true. Bandits and Terrors are basically everywhere.” Mill nodded. “Even in Rigel.”

Zilanna nodded as she pushed open heavy, wooden door with glass panelling, stepping back into the ballroom where there had been various nobles, Rigelian and Zofian alike, dancing and talking. The room was now basically empty, holding only Zhentiran and the twins who were nervously pacing around the center of it. Veridian was the first to notice Zilanna and Mill standing along the side of the ornate room.

“Lanni!”

“Hey, Verd. I’m ba- OOF!”

Veridian bolted over and crashed into his older sister, knocking her to the ground with a small squeak. Sterling followed close behind. Surprisingly, Zhentiran came over to sit down next to his children, slightly leaning against the small hug pile. Zilanna gave a soft whine.

“Uggggh all of you get off me!” she pouted. “There’s another person watching, you know.”

Zhentiran glanced up at Mill. “You must be Arlind, right?”

Mill nodded. “That’s me. I tend to prefer my last name, if that’s alright.”

“Ahh...sorry.” Zhentiran nodded to the goldie boy. “I was talking with your parents tonight. Lovely people~”

“Daaaad tell the twins to get off meeeee!” Zilanna wheezed slightly, her breathing hindered by the two teenage masses currently flopped on top of her. She flailed her arms with a whine as Zhentiran snorted and shook his head.

“You know they don't listen to me, Sunshine.”

“Daaaaaaaad.”

“Whaaaaat.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“WHY.”

“Because.”

“RUDE.”

Mill chuckled as he kind of awkwardly sat down beside the cuddle puddle. He grinned at Zilanna.

“Your brothers remind me of some people I used to know. They almost always did the exact same thing.”

Zilanna let out a light, breathy sound that somewhat resembled a laugh. “I dunno where they got it from, but one day I’m going to drag them out to the training field and kick their butts for this.”

Sterling pouted. “That's not faaaair. You can beat us easy.”

“Exactly.” Zilanna smirked. “Now both of you get off before I fry you with big, hurty lightning, m’kay? Mara won't be pleased if she has to patch you two up again~”

The twins yelped and rolled off their sister. They sat cross legged on either side of her with a pout that belonged on faces that were much younger than sixteen. Zilanna sat up as well with a huff, straightening her silver circlet before ruffling the twins’ hair with a giggle. Sterling accepted his fate with a sigh but Verd let out a screech and swatted at Zilanna’s hand.

“Hey no! It takes forever to get my hair like this!” he whined, glaring at her with silver and teal eyes that matched his twin brother’s. His sister laughed softly and mussed his spiky, teal hair up anyway. Verd groaned and rolled out of Zilanna’s reach.

“Waaaait no!” Zilanna frowned and grabbed Verd’s suit sleeve. She tugged on the dark green fabric with a pout until her younger brother sighed, stood, and scooped her up into a hug. Zilanna was by no mean short, but Verd could still lift her a few inches off the ground as he hugged her. She let out a small, startled squeak.

“VERD, PUT ME DOOOOWN!”

Verd smirked as he set her feet back down on the ground and lightly patted her head.

“Just remember which one of us is taller, sis~”

“Yes, but I’m older, you dummy!” Zilanna crossed her arms across her chest. She eyed Mill. “They’re so mean to me.”

Mill snorted. “Aww...I’ll protect you from the meanies~” he snickered as he walked over and carefully slid an arm around Zilanna’s shoulders. Zilanna smiled, looking away as a soft, pink color gently colored her cheeks. Zhentiran stood with a grin.

“Sooo, daughter~”

“Father. Father no.”

“Don’t ‘father’ me, young lady.” Zhentiran pouted at her. “Now, do tell me about your friend here~”

Zilanna’s brilliant, blue eyes lit up. “Well, I think he already introduced himself, but this is Lord Mill of Rigel.”

“Hello~” Mill waved at the three men with a goofy grin. “Thank you for inviting my family to these get together things.”

“Dad, Lord Mill and I were talking and we thought that maybe we should...work together, since we share some of the same problems. Like the bandits.” Zilanna tilted her head. “Do you think we could make that work?”

“Actually,” Zhentiran smirked at the two. “I was talking with Lord Mill’s parents this evening and we came to the same conclusion. I was going to send you over to the Mill house tomorrow to further discuss with them. You are our most capable fighter right now.”

Zilanna glanced between her father and Mill, a smile spreading across her features as she laughed softly. “Well. I guess that all worked out, then.”

“Yeah.” Mill grinned, then turned to Zhentiran. “Sooo, I take it my family left without me?”

“Yep.” he nodded. “They left a horse, though. Are you going to be okay getting back? I can send Zilanna with you. The skies are safer, so she’d be fine getting back.”

Mill waved a hand. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I-”

“-don’t have any weapons.” Zilanna crossed her arms across her chest, arching an eyebrow. Mill scratched the back of his neck with a frown.

“That is true, milady.”

“I think that settles it.” Zhentiran said seriously. “Zilanna shall accompany you.”

Zilanna nodded. “Astria won’t mind, I’m sure. She hasn’t gotten any time in the sky for a few days.”

“Try several months.” Zhentiran frowned at her. Zilanna glanced away, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and running her fingers through dark brown hair.

“Y-yeah.”

Her father sighed, walking over to pat her shoulder. “I could send Sterling out, if you don’t want to.”

“N-no. I got this.” She smiled, the grin masking whatever was going on in her head. Zhentiran nodded, gently patting his daughter’s head.

“Just be careful, sunshine, okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Mill blinked. Whatever it was, it went over his head. Zilanna turned to him.

“Let’s get going, goldie boy, It’s already pretty late.” She grinned.

“Goldie boy?” Mill snorted. “Alright, then, milady. Lead the way to the stables~”