#the damn thing started triggering itself without even being fully connected!

[leota-nexus]

Alright so @shopwitchvamp 's latest tarot video reminded me that it's alright to have an overwhelming amount of random-ass passions in life. A tamagotchi + a couple tarot cards called my ass out to get outta my own damn way & enjoy the things I genuinely want to do! Can't argue with that so I treated myself to some selfies in my Mystic Flame skirt + scalemaile synth* prototype my partner & I made a few years back 🖤

*not actually plugged in to anything here but I haven't worn it in years! It's called The Storyteller's Gauntlet as it would trigger sound effects both intentionally from specific scales & randomly as you moved organically. These sounds included crows & ravens, howling wind, babbling brooks, armored footsteps on gravel, swordfights, & draconic fireballs plus the resulting crackling flames on the battlefield 💖🔥🐲💙

[that-other-him]

In the belly of the Leviathan

Warmind!Au Destiny story inspired by and tying in with @hdreaper 's own story just posted. Please enjoy!

Fear was something of an old hat to Winter. Memory skips left her anxious, quarantine duty made her anxious, being cut off from Rexy, her frames and the network made her anxious, the anxiety making the memory skips worse made her anxious...

But the fear she'd been living with for the last month blew all of that out of the water.

Ra-1, the fist of Rasputin, the Dragon Ascendant, had personally sent her a message to say that if she didn't start doing exactly what he told her, he'd activate the code-black killcodes built into her Rasputin Exo body, and blow her Exomind into electronic spaghetti. After all, she was wired into the Charlemagne network, and had a documented set of fears he could abuse. She'd gather confidential data for him, she'd send him warnings of Charlemagne's actions, and she'd allow his scientists to try and duplicate Rexy, and the fear of final death would keep her in line.

But.

But but but.

Rasputin's records of her had been accurate...once. Yes, she was still afraid, but her body was no longer a Rasputin model. It couldn't be; that whole area was considered an infohazard now, and her last body was never coming home. And without that final threat, she'd found the courage to do something...stupid.

So here she was, on Ra's flagship in deep space with Charlemagne's blessing. She'd met up with lance troops a few times for debriefs, but recently she'd been allowed to spend time on the flagship itself, ready for Ra to send her where he wanted her. But that same set of interface skills that had allowed her access to Charli's files had also granted access to just a few of Ra's.

Winter paced back and forth in the tiny cabin she’d been assigned. She wasn’t sure if it was some kind of power conservation action, but the light down here barely cut through the shadows. She could have headed up to one of the main decks where things were a bit less claustrophobic, but Ra’s soldiers were everywhere there, and being the only blue-lit Exo on the entire ship guaranteed her the kind of attention that, if things went wrong today, could get her killed. She checked the ship’s clock fruitlessly. Somewhere out there, right now, Ra himself was boots-down on Riis. The data scraps she’d found didn’t say why, or for how long, but there was no question that he was just a little vulnerable right now.

Just a little would have to be enough; her Guardian contacts, who she’d affectionately nicknamed Fireteam Fuzzy, had cut their way through all kinds of monsters since she’d met them, and she’d made damn sure they knew exactly how dangerous he would be. She’d helped Fuzzy find their targets and coordinated some bounties for them down in the Quarantine zone, and when she’d outlined her proposal, they’d agreed to pass it on without question. It could have been typical guardian bravado, but she knew they’d lost friends to Ghostbuster rounds in the attack on the farm a while back. Maybe they actually trusted her.

Maybe that trust was going to get them killed.

Pushing that thought away and herself to her feet, Winter shoved her way past the door and started striding away towards the lifts. One way or another, with the Ira Terra still out in the styx, any news of the strike would take time to arrive, if her information had even been good in the first place. If she was going to stew in uncertainty, she may as well do it somewhere that felt less like a prison cell. Ra may have been a terrifying, merciless, wannabe-tyrant, but the facilities he provided for his troops were actually first rate. She’d find a sim-station no-one was using and throw herself into some story until the guillotine had, one way or another, dropped.

She had made it to the first brightly lit corridor of the barracks floor when her whole body exploded into pain.

Protocols cut in, protecting her mind from the overwhelming agony, partitioning and quarantining it. The feeling of burning alive dipped, sank, then seemed to drain from her whole body into solely her left forearm. When she could see again, she was crumpled against the wall of the corridor, chest heaving, digital heart still pumping on overdrive. It felt unpleasantly like the worst of the memory blips-she was in pain, alone, with no idea why or what to defend against. She cast her eyes down and to her left, and just like with the blips, her circumstances slotted into place. Set into the casing of her arm, where her network interface and uplink were supposed to be, were a smoking ruin of burned and self-destructing circuits. Her only remaining Rasputin hardware, her connection to her frames, to Rexy, to the ship’s system.

Ra-1 had just tried to kill her.

Oh, if she had thought she’d been afraid before, it paled in comparison to the terror that swallowed her now. It felt like her heart was going to burst out through her chest. There was no way her guardians would have told him she was responsible, right? They knew she was undercover, and even in the heat of the fight, he could have sent the kill codes at any time. They’d keep her secret...

...until their dying breaths.

There was a crackling noise that initially failed to cut through the panic, until it resolved unto the familiar voice of the great warlord, and even as the announcement rang out the ship’s engines powered into life and rumbled the flagship into thunderous motion.

“Attention, warriors of the Broken Lance. A guardian strike team has just made an attempt on my life, using information given to them by a traitor within our ranks, Winter-1. The guardians have been dealt with, and I have already ensured she has been rewarded as a traitor deserves. However, an example must still be made. Have her remains gathered and waiting for me upon my return to the Terra. Her masters shall have her broken husk returned to them. A commendation to the squad who has her corpse in my office upon my arrival. Ra out.”

Oh.

Hmm.

Ah, ok.

Winter was pretty sure she’d just lost a minute or two by the time her awareness came back to her. She still felt like she was about to die (fully independent of the hundreds of trained and eager killers probably now closing in on her position) but the freeze instinct was graduating to flight. She had an exit strategy, at Charlemagne’s insistence. It wasn’t a good strategy, but the warmind had explicitly ordered her to try. She reached out with her interface to the subroutine she’d left running on the ship’s server, and-

Ah. Her eyes once again turned to the sparking, melted mess where her interface was supposed to sit. It felt like one of her senses had been scooped out; a huge, gaping wound where the network was supposed to be. Nevermind just the escape protocol, without the access codes built into it, ninety five percent of the systems in the ship would no longer recognise her as a person, including the ones required to log into any network access point on the ship. She knew where her escape protocol was located, and could theoretically trigger it if she could reach an unsecured terminal.

But right now she could already hear tramping boots approaching from the barracks and she had no choice but to run.

She lost count of how many times she blipped as she led a desperate game of cat and mouse through the guts of the ship. The Ira Terra was bigger than the Stultorum had been, back when she’d served upon it, but if the ship ran about the same, the cargo deck mid-flight would be on skeleton crew with nobody caring if an unsecured terminal was technically a security violation. So she kept heading down and back, focusing on that one thought to the exclusion of all else. When she blipped in this time, she was halfway down a corridor created by two shipping containers, moving towards the illuminated sign of a shift breakroom. She took the next step and immediately fell nearly to the floor, sprawling gracelessly and nearly braining herself on the container. Oh-she’d been shot. That explained why her right side and upper leg were one big mess of static and pins-and-needles. She supported herself on the side of the crate and limped forward, conscious of the shouts and stomping boots echoing from somewhere in the distance behind her. She made it to the door, shouldering it open, almost collapsing with relief when her flickering vision was met with the friendly glow of an open terminal. She immediately dragged herself to it, closing the chat and shipwide alert windows to immediately start digging for her protocol.

She must have been five seconds in when she heard the shatter of breaking crockery behind her.

Slowly turning to face the noise, Winter looked into the eyes of the exo washing the dishes in the kitchenette, set into the corner of the breakroom. For a moment, both were still, surprised, the other Exo’s hand still in the air where it had been holding the coffee mug a moment ago. Then his eyes flicked to the screen of the terminal, where a moment ago had been the bounty on the only blue-lit Exo on the ship.

She didn’t even question trying to engage him. She whirled back to the screen, fingers flying as she desperately raced to run the command. The man had no weapons, probably no combat training, but he crashed into her from behind and her leg went out from under her, skull bouncing off the frame of the screen as he tried to wrap his arms around hers, voice bellowing that he’d found her. She was so close it burned, even more intense than the pain. She gripped one of her hands with the other and shoved it over her shoulder as hard as she could, outstretched thumb punching into his optic and causing a very human scream that no amount of mechanical upgrades would prevent. His grip slackened, and she pulled herself out of his arms and high enough to see the screen.

There were shouts behind her, the sounds of guns being brought to attention, the exo at her feet was tightening his grip again, and her vision was fading into black on the edges.

She hit the last key on the screen.

Everything went white, then black, silent and cold.

It was maybe ten seconds before the first ship thundered across her line of sight in the perfect silence of vacuum, the many supporting ships of Ra's fleet rushing to keep up with the flagship as it finished positioning itself for the jump. Even its coasting speed had brought it far enough away from Winter to render it a tiny dot in the distance, before there was a flash of light and the ships were gone.

Her transmat had been a random distance in a random direction, untraceable, and searching for her would delay the ship's travel to pick up Ra. She'd be left behind in the void, passing beyond its signal jamming, allowing the beacon hidden in her circuits to finally begin transmitting. A waiting friendly vessel would be on route to pick her up, provided the fleet hadn't shot it out of the sky.

Which left Winter here, curled in a ball as the moisture on her clothes crystallised. In theory, Exos were built to be vacuum-resistant, but she had a feeling that resistance didn't account for there being two bleeding holes in her dermis.

The thought drifted through her brain as her senses shut down one by one:

Who would claim her first: the cold, the bleeding, or her rescue?

She found herself thinking that she didn't want to die again.

Slowly, the black faded back to white.

[painted-crow]

Hey I hope this isn’t awkward but that post about your burned badger (lion?) secondary really hit home for me. I’m pretty sure I’ve had the same burned model in the past - I think I started off with a healthier badger/lion model (I can’t figure out which and am still figuring out my sorting anyway) and some external life stuff going on later, I’m really just pushing through and getting stuff done with all the delicacy of a brick. And same here with the emotional rollercoaster ... 1/2

And same here with the emotional rollercoaster of it between panic/apathy. And the burnout. And the ignoring physical pain. And I can see now how this was uh. Pretty unhealthy actually but it really was just so. effective especially given the circumstances and I kind of miss it in a way. It would be nice if I could get back a healthier version of whichever model it was. Anyway I love reading your blog you always have such insightful things to say thanks for reading this ramble <3 2/2

💙💙💙 :D

Not awkward! I'm glad that was useful for someone, rather than just being an angst dump on my part lol

Emergency secondary mode, Badger or Lion?

Links to previous posts:

- post describing my emergency secondary mode (cw for burnout stuff)

- the worst version of this post (cw for terrible memes)

So, after a lot of consideration and chatting with some lovely SHC people (looking at you @mooglesorts and you @magpie-of-a-birb), I've come to the tentative conclusion that I have a Lion secondary performance.

Which is not something I ever expected to say! I've long had a knee-jerk "aaaaa scary!" reaction to Lion secondary, but actually I think that's because I have this performance and I've had to use it in unsustainable ways.

I should probably put a trigger warning here for self harm through overwork... yeah.

So, I found this song:

(While it is a bop, it is also x2 trigger warning combo for self harm ahaha)

This song's primary is exploded Glory Hound Lion--that's not what's relatable about it to me tho. What I wanted my friends' opinion on was the secondary that's displayed here. Sounded familiar. So I brought it up on the SHC Discord server (which is out of beta, dm me for an invite link if you wanna join!).

I was thinking it might actually be the fully Burned "anything that works" secondary, but Magpie was like "no, that's a Lion sec with a Snake model" and I went "huh..."

...and then Moogle was like no that's a snakesec with an unhealthy Lion model, the masks aren't working so they're busting out Lion--and especially there's the focus on the character feeling powerful because they can hurt themself with it and keep going anyway

And I was like "oh shit that tracks more than I was expecting it to... whoops"

Badger hits different without unhealthy pressure

I do have and use a Badger secondary model, and I used to think my emergency secondary mode was just my Badger model taken to unhealthy extremes. But I don’t think so now.

First, because I actually think that my emergency mode is/was often a product of my exploded Badger primary model, which itself idealized Badger secondary.

I'm still picking through that thing's shrapnel and finding its influence in old memories and automatic reactions I still have and stuff like that--not to mention rooting it out of my system. Which is to say, now that I know what I'm looking for, I'm still discovering how far back this thing goes! Turns out I've been trying to whack this piñata for years, and it used to be so much worse.

The self-destructive "I'd rather run myself hard into the ground than fail" nature of my emergency mode makes a lot of sense in retrospect. When you tie your self-worth to achievement... well: the lyrics "I'll never lose / I'll never die" from the song seem less "I have achieved immortality!" and more "I basically equate failure with death." This song really straddles that edge of relatable but also obviously messed up. It's... something.

Second, my Badger secondary model is very different when it's not under pressure from the 'splodey primary model. I'm kind of having to figure out what it's like without that and it's weird. It seems to be a whole lot more chill and also I'm getting more Courtier than I'm used to?

Yeah, turns out if you dig out "you should help other people to justify your existence, but don't accept help back or it cancels it out" from your system (because damn, there's a system piece I didn't look at closely enough) it might have been holding up Courtier potential you haven't been using.

What's the difference?

I don't know who pointed this out first, I think I read it somewhere, but Badger secondary is very process focused and Lion secondary is very results focused. (Bet you this was from @wisteria-lodge. I'm not sure, though.)

Badger usually shows up as a few main things for me: mirroring, chipping away at big projects, picking up life maintenance and self care type tasks (especially when Bird secondary is burned), and caregiving/service stuff. It can also Burn on its own, which is its own brand of "motivation is a cryptid" exhaustion. None of this looks like Lion, so where does the confusion come in?

The only time my Badger model starts to look like Lion--and here the line really blurs with the performance--is when I've tried to get it to do tasks it's not really meant for. There are things I need Bird unburned in order to tackle (perhaps it's the presence of burned Birdsec that gets in the way? That injured confidence can be really debilitating) and I can't do them with just Badger.

I'm sure actual Badger secs know how to, say, learn Adobe Illustrator's unbelievably complicated controls while under deadline using Badger, but I have no clue. I powered through using probably the least efficient controls possible. (If you're using the nudge tool as a form of measurement, you're probably doing it wrong. I'm guessing.)

Needless to say, that's exhausting. I think there's some point in the project timeline where it stops being "well it's not efficient but at least I'm making progress!" and starts being fueled by raw stubborn determination and a little bit of spite. The contentment with the process goes out the window. I'm fighting my own perfectionism (and usually losing) because I just want this thing done.

Which, that's not necessarily a bad thing! Sometimes it's really useful to be able to go "screw it" and charge. It becomes a bad thing when you ignore all your other needs to do it, possibly because you've tied success and/or productivity to your self worth, and also you're still clutching your perfectionism and hissing "my precioussssss."

also:

It's not always obvious, but I sometimes use Lion secondary in ways not connected to the splodey Badger primary model.

(Occasionally it is obvious though... haha)

I do have this one story about realizing my younger brother might be in danger and charging off to find him, armed with a heavy wooden coat hanger against potential assailants. I went from Bird situational analysis to "this is the best weapon I can find on short notice" in like 30 seconds. In my defense, I was very sleep deprived at the time.

(It makes more sense in context.)

(Sort of.)

so.

I think the emergency secondary mode is a Lionsec performance.

This post took me like a month to write even after figuring it out. And then another few weeks collecting dust in my drafts, because how do you edit something like this

But I've been sitting on it for way too long and I'm tired of saying I should finish/post it, and tonight I'm feeling bored and a little impulsive... so, screw it--I'm calling this done.

(can you hear it? it's there... fighting my Birdsec/Badgersec model perfectionism again.)

(this time, I will listen.)

[simsadventures]

After All: Epilogue

Summary: You try to help Bucky find a way to forgive himself for what happened.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, PTSD, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS), more fluff

Word Count: 3334

A/N: The final chapter is here. I’m so thankful to all of you who stuck with the whole thing, and I hope I made the story justice with this end. What was your favourite part? Did you enjoy the story? Feedback is gold you guys. Once again, thank you, and hopefully I’ll be seeing you in my other stories. xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Mornings in Wakanda were marvellous. The way the sun hit the water and the warm rays shone through the whole country took your breath away. It was your 10th day there, and still, you weren’t used to the sight.

You were wrapped in a traditional dress that Shuri lent you, feeling a little more appropriately in the red and purple dress than you did in your leggings and tight shirt. You felt more in connection with everything around you like this, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to ever wear your clingy modern clothes.

You were watching the sheep around you, feasting on the fresh grass in front of the lake, and a sense of calmness overflew you. It was nice to just get away from the rushing city for a while and to just enjoy the beauties the nature was willing to show you.

You could hear rustling behind you, but you didn’t move. You knew exactly what, or rather who it was, and it just added to the calm growing inside you.

Bucky.

It’s been 10 days since you came and he seemed to have been doing much better. Not great, but definitely better.

The first few days, he would constantly search your face for any sign of fear or distress so that he could tell you that he wasn’t worth it and that he didn’t want to make you feel that way.

But when he found nothing over and over again, the realisation dawned on him. You really weren’t going anywhere, despite everything that happened.

It wasn’t just that he attacked you as the Winter Soldier, although that still kept him up some nights. It was all the time before that when he hurt you just by being himself, by trusting someone he shouldn’t have and almost losing one of the most important people in his life. He couldn’t even imagine life without you anymore, and the thought always made a cold shiver run down his spine.

He walked towards you from his, or maybe your common, hut but stopped a few feet away. Even though he would allow you two to spend your time together, he still kept some distance from you.

It bothered you, but you knew you had to give him time to gather his mind and to finally understand and fully accept that you were not going to leave, nor were you afraid of him. But your patience was wearing thin.

He even asked Shuri to give him another mattress so that he could sleep under the perfectly fine queen-sized bed, in case anything happened and you needed some time to escape him, or whatever it was he said.

And you were getting tired of his hesitations and weird excuses.

“Morning, Y/N. How did you sleep?” He asked, sheepishly from somewhere behind you.

You sighed and turned around to be greeted with a sight to see indeed. Bucky was also wrapped in traditional clothing, his hair in half-up-half-down, flowing around his face as the breeze went into them.

“I would’ve slept better if you were in bed with me, but, otherwise, yeah, not bad, I guess,” you shrugged and turned to face the lake again. You could hear a heavy sigh coming from Bucky’s mouth before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You wanted to lean into his touch, to marvel at the feeling of his skin touching yours, but you didn’t have time to do it. As soon as Bucky touched you, he withdrew the hand and apologised only to walk to the sheep herd nearby.

You head dropped to your chest, and you tried hard not to break into crying. You really wanted to be the patient woman, who waits on her man during everything, but Bucky was giving you very little to have at least some kind of hope.

You knew he was working hard every day with Shuri, to be able to get the Winter Soldier out of his brain, so that what happened in New York could never happen again.

Today, Shuri asked you to come to the training, because she thought she discovered something important.

You waited for Bucky to tend to the sheep just like he did every morning before you two walked down to the palace where Shuri’s laboratory was. On the way there, you only exchanged pleasantries about the night and this morning, and despite you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room, the palace came in the view much sooner than you expected.

Shuri was cheery as ever, showing you around, and letting you try some of her newest inventions, and you, ever the scientist, couldn’t get enough of it. No offence to Tony and his gadgets, but this Wakandian technology was truly something else.

Bucky was seated on a bed, with several electrodes and other little stickers stuck to his forehead, his chest and his arms, taking note on everything that was happening in his body.

“Y/N, could you come here for a second?” Shuri asked with a smile on her lips, but her eyes were watching something on a screen in front of her.

You just nodded and walked to them, not really getting why you had to be there when Bucky was obviously against it if the constant protest was something you could judge it by. But Shuri paid him no mind, and so you wouldn’t either.

“White Wolf, I’m going to say few of the trigger words, but, don’t worry, I’m not gonna go through it all. We’ve done this before, I just need to see your brain’s reaction to them once again, and then try something new to block it. Alright?”

Bucky just grunted, his head dropped to his chest, his chest heaving.

You wanted to step closer to him and soothe him, but because this whole time in Wakanda, he scarcely ever touched you willingly, you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable.

“Longing,” Shuri murmured in Russian, and you could see the screen in Shuri’s hand lighting up with a reaction in his frontal and temporal lobe. Shuri smirked, but the result obviously wasn’t as significant as she wanted, so she continued.

 “Rusted,” another murmur, other lights on the screen, this time a little brighter. You could see the reaction now on Bucky too. He was still himself, you could tell that much, but his pupils were slightly dilated, his fists now clenched.

But still, you were feeling no fear. You couldn’t understand it yourself, he almost killed you at one point in time, but here you were, calm as ever, patiently waiting what would happen next.

“Now, Y/N,” Shuri whispered so low you knew she tried to not let Bucky hear it. “I want you to step in front of him and touch his face. If he looks up at you, I want you to talk to him. Anything will do, really, I just need him to hear your voice. Do you understand?” You nodded, not even giving her a glance, and you walked to Bucky.

His gaze was still set on the floor, even when you were mere inches from him.

You did exactly as Shuri asked you, stretching your arm so that he could see it and lightly touching his right cheek. You could feel Bucky taking a ragged breath before his eyes snapped to your face.

You smiled lightly, biting your lower lip in the process because you weren’t really sure of what to tell him. You shook your mind and tried not to be stupid. Shuri told you to talk about anything, so you were gonna do just that.

“I still think about our date at the entertainment park. I think it was the most beautiful day in my life, just us and our friends, having so much fun and being together somewhere other than the compound. I’m actually sorry I didn’t bring the damn bear with me, so we could have a bit of the day here with us. But it’s ok, we’re together, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You finished and had to fight the urge to start crying, mainly because how much you actually loved the man sitting in front you, looking at you like you fell out of the sky.

“Hah! I knew it! Damn, I’m so good at it, I should actually make my brother pay me for this,” Shuri screeched from behind you, and it made both you and Bucky jump up a little.  

You looked at her confusedly, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Oh, right, sorry. So, Sergeant Barnes here told me all he could remember from the last attack, and the more we talked about it, the more details came to light. He told me that he didn’t know you, but he didn’t feel the urge to kill you as much as he did with other people, and that his brain actually fought the programming in his brain when you were telling him about your feelings.

And from what I can tell, you might be the key to break it all, Y/N. His brain fights itself when you talk to him about things you two did, but I bet even if you told him the weather forecast, he’d still do that.

Sergeant Barnes, you will be just fine, I can promise you that. We will just have to work with Y/N here, to ensure that your brain won’t even go into that mode. It will take some time, but I’m confident to say I found a way to erase the Winter Soldier forever.”

You were stunned, to say the least. Your eyes were bulging, threatening to fall out of the sockets, and your mouth was hanging open.

“What if I hurt her again, just by her being anywhere near me during the process?” Bucky said, his tone harsh.

Shuri scoffed and unplugged him from all the machines monitoring him.

“You won’t hurt the woman you love, Sergeant, but if you do not wish to be better forever, it’s your call.”

Bucky sighed and opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You know what? I’m tired of this, Bucky. I don’t know how I should say this, over and over again, but I’m not scared of you, I trust you, and I love you, you idiot. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if you keep pushing me away. I am not going anywhere, try and get it through that thick skull of yours. Let me know when it reaches your brain, I’ll be in the hut till then,” you huffed out and marched out of there as fast as possible.

Maybe you could’ve been more patient, but you were done playing by his rules. He needed to realise a few things if the two of you should work out.

It was a good few hours before Bucky came to your shared space, and even though you knew he was there, you weren’t willing to give him your attention. He would actually have to do something for it this time. You were done being the one always chasing him to give you a side glance if you were lucky, that was.

“I am an idiot, aren’t I?” Bucky murmured from the door, and you just hummed in agreement, still not looking at him, but looking at the primitive stove in front of you, trying to make a corn mash for dinner.

“It’s just… I’m so scared of hurting you again, that I thought it would be again if I didn’t have the chance to do so.”

You now raised your eyebrow, turning to face him.

“I swear to God, Bucky, if you want to break up with me right now, I’m gonna kick your ass harder than any alien or super-soldier ever did!”

A smile tugged on his lips, and he took a step closer to you.

“I know, baby. I’m saying what I wanted to do by walking away from New York and running here. There’s always this small voice, telling me that you must hate me for what I did to you, but every time I look at you, all I can see is the love and patience you have with me, and I don’t really get it, you know? But no more of that, if what you said in the lab is true, that is.”

“Everything I said in there was true, Bucky. And because I know which part you have in mind, Imma tell you again. I love you, you moron. And if you let me, I’m gonna love you for a very, very long time.”

Tears were shining in Bucky’s eyes, and before you could say anything more, his lips were on yours. His right hand found its way to your hair, while his metal arm was squeezing your hip, pulling you unbelievably close to him, desperate to feel you against him.

The kiss was urgent, and when he pulled your hair a little, you moaned into it. This gave Bucky the time to slip his tongue between your lips, dancing with your tongue effortlessly. You were both panting, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without oxygen, but, at the same time, you didn’t want to let him go.

Bucky was probably feeling the same, because the second his lips left yours, he drew in a breath, but still kissing your skin on your neck, not willing to part from you when he finally decided to give in, and love you like he should this whole time.

Warning: smut starting

You were a mowing mess by the time he reached your exposed collarbone. You’ve been wanting this for so long, that you could hardly wait to finally consummate your relationship.

Bucky was gripping and groping every part of your body he could reach, biting and nipping at your skin with his teeth, determined to make up for the lost time.

He pulled down your dress, only to reveal you were going bra-less, and that you were wearing very flimsy lace panties. He growled under his breath, seeing you naked for the first time, and his cock gave an excited tug in his sarong. You bit your lower lip and freed him from the confines of his clothes.

As the dress pooled around his ankles, you looked up, to see his cock standing proudly almost against his stomach, pre-cum already leaking out of it. You licked your mouth absentmindedly, but before you could kneel in front of him to taste him, Bucky pushed you on the bed.

“Today is about you, my love. I’ve been an idiot, and I need to show you just how sorry I am for putting you through all that. Let me make the woman I love feel good, please,” he pleaded, his hands groping your breasts, pinching your nipples every few second.

“The woman you love, huh?” You asked, a smirk playing on your lips.

Bucky laughed and kissed the valley between your breasts. “Hell yeah, she’s kinda the only person I can picture myself growing old with, you know?”

You feigned shock, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re already kind of old, baby. I’m not sure what you really think, but you’re near your 100.”

Bucky bit beneath your navel to shut you up, and before you could stop him, he lightly kissed the pink scar on your left side, left behind after Bucky’s knife penetrated your body.

Your fingers played with his hair, trying to steer his attention from the scar to pretty much anywhere else, but it wasn’t working.

He looked at you with hooded eyes and smiled at you sadly.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

And before you could make sure he was ok, he was between your thighs, and he was nuzzling his face in your heat. The first touch of his tongue with your slit was almost ecstatic. You arched up, moaning his name loudly, not caring that the huts were anything but sound-proof and that the part of the village in which you were staying would have a pretty good idea of what the two of you were doing.

He then dived right in, switching between sucking your swollen bud and penetrating you with his tongue. He then put two of his fingers to your entrance, gathering the slick before he entered you, pumping them in and out of you rhythmically. It only took him few minutes to have you writhing underneath him, begging him for release.

And he granted you your wish by sucking in your clit and rubbing over and over your G-spot until you were seeing stars.

Bucky gave you few kitten licks, marvelling at the sight of your trembling legs and squeezing pussy, still pulsing from the strength of your orgasm.

Bucky kissed back up to your mouth, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. You intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, to feel his chest rub against your nipples. Your whole body was extremely sensitive, but you still needed more.

“Please, Bucky. I need you,” you moaned into his mouth.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you, I promise.”

With that said, he lined his the blunt of his cock with your entrance pushing into you, few inches at a time, letting your body adjust to his size. You were gasping and gripping his biceps in your hands, both from the slight pain you were feeling and from the pleasure.

When Bucky could feel you pussy relaxing, he gave you a tentative thrust, earning a loud gasp from your mouth.

After that, the only sounds that could be heard in the one-room hut were your gasps, Bucky’s growls, and the slapping of his pelvis hitting your pussy.

With each thrust, Bucky’s pelvic bone touched your clit, sending sparkles right to your pussy, which then squeezed Bucky like a vice.

Bucky was murmuring words of adoration into your ear, and when he mumbled I love you over and over again, it finally did the deed, and you came undone underneath him.

When he felt the pulses jolting through your pussy, he bit your shoulder ever so lightly and came with a shout, painting your walls with his seed.

He was kissing all over your face, enjoying the closeness you two shared.

Warning ending

“I’m never letting you go, not out of this bed, not out of my life,” he whispered when he finally got back his voice from the ecstasy, laying on his back, with you draped over him.

“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t go even if you asked me,” you smirked, and Bucky kissed the crown of your head.

“But your job is in New York? Won’t you miss it?”

You looked up at him and smiled at his naivety. “First of all, Tony told me my job would wait for me, no matter how long we decided to spend here. Secondly, Shuri actually asked me to come and help her with some stuff in her lab, so I can still do my inventions here. But most importantly, it’s just a job, Bucky. I can find any job in the world, as long as I have you.”

Bucky only squeezed your shoulder in response, and you didn’t even have to look to know he was being emotional, and he didn’t have words to express his feelings. But you didn’t need words. He was all you ever wanted, and if you were in Wakanda, New York, or a different planet, you didn’t care.

After all, you two were just stronger together, and you were glad Bucky finally realised it. It would be a good life by his side, you were sure of it.

You eyes were growing heavy, and your bright future let you fall into the peaceful slumber easily. Especially when Bucky was in bed with you, after all this time.

THE END

After All:

@iheartsebastianstan​ @readermia​ @kolakube9​ @ibookishqueen​ @thewintersoldierswifu @emogril​ @the-melancholyfeels​ @pinkleopardss​ @supervengerslock​ @the-soulofdevil​ @jessyballet​  @bxrnsfeyson​ @38leticia​ @sparkling-gayyyy​ @deansbbysblog​ @lustgardn​ @wantingtobekorra​ @backflip-into-a-garbage-can @thefifthmaraud3r​ @calwitch​ @lovinmcu​ @itsjaybro16​

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

It Takes Two Part 1

Requested by @verdonafrost (I know it doesn’t seem like what you asked for, but it’ll get there, I promise!)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Reader, Alfred Pennyworth, Original characters

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Drug deals, arguments, discussion of death, minor violence, threats of assault

Summary: Nearly a year ago you accepted the offer to work with Batman, to train under him, learn from him, be his partner. Yet when a seemingly normal drug bust on Christmas Eve brings memories back from the past, you find that partnership tested to its limits.

Part 1 of 6

Part 2 Part 3

A solid fist to your jaw sent you stumbling backward but failed in its job to knock you down. You grabbed the wrist, moving as you twisted the arm. The other fist came up, aiming at your stomach. You blocked it, using the momentum to swing yourself around, legs hooked around your attacker’s neck, and jerked them to the ground. 

You rolled immediately back to your feet, grinning, believing you'd won. 

A foot swept your legs out from under you then came up with the other, delivering a hard kick to your middle that sent you flying backward. 

You hit the floor hard, the breath knocked out of you. Your attacker was on you in a second, gun pointed at your forehead. 

"Bang. Dead," they growled. "Never presume victory."

You lay panting, glaring up at Bruce. "Got it," you said, batting the hand that was holding the fake gun away. Bruce didn't move though, remaining where he was, keeping you pinned to the training mat. "I'd like to see a crook get up from that beating though."

"Maybe most won't, but there are some out there a lot more dangerous that won't hesitate to kill you." Bruce finally moved, knee leaving your stomach to let you actually catch your breath. He tossed the gun to the side and offered out a hand. 

You refused it, pulling yourself back to your feet instead. “Good thing I have a partner to watch my back then."

Bruce hummed, frowning. He did that a lot. "I wouldn't say partners. You haven't fully earned that mask yet."

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you went to grab the water bottle instead. You'd been training with Bruce for months now, and still, he treated you like a child more often than not. Occasionally you regretted your decision to take him up on his offer to take you under his wing and train you properly, thinking that maybe it would've been better to just continue by yourself. But even though he was as tough as it got, the training had made you a better vigilante, and the new kevlar suit he'd had made for you was definitely an improvement. Both design and safety-wise. Plus it was just easier to work with the Batman than against him. You'd learned that the hard way. 

"So what now? Another round?" 

Bruce nodded as he picked up the fake gun again and took his position in the center of the mat. 

You were just about to join him when Alfred appeared in the room. "Sir, the Batsignal."

Bruce dropped the gun and looked at you, "Suit up."

~

You landed silently on the roof behind Bruce, your cape billowing gently behind you. You'd been doubtful when he'd first suggested one, but you'd come to like the steady warmth of it on your shoulders especially in Gotham's harsh winter. 

Gordon was on the other side of the roof, back facing the both of you as he looked out over Gotham. 

"Gordon," Bruce greeted, voice coming out deep and gravely due to the voice modulator. 

"Jesus!" He cursed jumping and turning around. "D'you think one day you could do that without giving me a heart attack?!" 

Bruce said nothing, just walked forward into the light more with you shadowing him. "What is it?"

"Straight to the point it is then,"  Gordon muttered, glancing over Bruce's shoulder at you and nodding in greeting. He flicked the rest of his cigarette to the ground, letting it fizzle out in the snow. "We just got a tip that there's a drug deal going down at the docks tonight. I'd have sent some of my guys but what with the holiday we're already understaffed."

Bruce nodded, "We'll deal with it."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Bruce turned, giving you a look that meant follow, and jumped off the edge of the building. 

~

The tip-off was accurate. The warehouse Gordon had sent you too was crawling with armed goons patrolling the perimeter. 

"How did we not catch wind of this?" You whispered from where you were perched in the shadows next to Bruce. 

"We'll figure that out later. First, we stop it. Surveillance shows fifteen men outside, and another ten inside. I'll take the North-East, you the South-West and meet on the roof."

You nodded, "Got it."

The goons didn't stand a chance. Not one noticed you swoop in and take them down one by one quick and quiet. Not a peep came from Bruce's area either, not that you'd expected him to be spotted. 

You grappled to the roof, landing silently a second before Bruce, boots crunching softly in the undisturbed snow. You exchanged a look and Bruce motioned to a small panel. A vent. He made quick work of getting it loose, and you followed him, dropping down and keeping your footsteps soft against the metal as you landed. Bruce had already undone the cover on the inside and crept out onto the rafters. Joining him, you found a vantage point to spy on the people below. 

"Boss said to flog the green stuff first, keep the prices low 'til the kids get hooked, then sell 'em the blue pills. Better high, better price." One man said, talking to the others surrounding him.

"What's the deal when they can't pay?" 

"Tell 'em they owe you a favor. Boss'll call it in soon enough."

Your hand balled into a fist on instinct at the conversation. Selling drugs to kids was bad enough, but you also knew that the 'favors' owed would likely end badly, that the poor kid in debt would be more than expendable. 

Glancing over at Bruce, he was still looking down, observing. The moment they started to distribute the drugs, he pounced. 

The smoke grenade landed smack in the middle, with both of you following immediately behind it. The first time you'd tried to fight in the smoke it had ended with Bruce taking you down immediately, but now you moved through the dense cloud with practiced ease, finding your targets and eliminating them from the fight. 

Despite Bruce's insistence that you weren't partners yet, the two of you worked together near flawlessly. You were in-sync, knowing what the other was going to do before they did it. One tried to swing at you as you were fighting another, flailing near blind in the smoke but still coming close enough to land the hit. You swerved to the right, and the attacker was instead met by Bruce’s fist in his face. Another attempted to lurch at Bruce with a knife. In a second the knife was clattering across the concrete floor, and the crack of a bone-breaking filled the air. 

The smoke began to clear and in the corner of your eye, you saw a masked goon grab a gun and aim it at Bruce. Without even needing to think, you threw one of your batarangs, the metal slicing through the air until it embedded itself in the man’s hand before he could even get his finger on the trigger. The gun dropped to the floor and you kicked it to one side before taking him down.

Straightening out, you looked around. Only the two of you were left standing.

“Good work,” Bruce said, and you had to resist the urge of fake fainting. 

You simply nodded instead and turned to start securing the perps while Bruce contacted Gordon. It was a simple process until the sleeves of one of the crooks rose up exposing his wrist and the tattoo on it. 

The small symbol, a dagger through a rose, turned your blood to ice. It had been years since you'd last seen it, but the image was scarred into your memory forever. 

"I know who's behind this."

~

"Curt Roman? No, It's impossible."

You were standing in front of the Batcomputer with Bruce and Alfred, looking at several photos of a businessman. 

"Bruce, it's him."

"I know Curt, he's a friend. He's donated hundreds of thousands to Wayne Foundation programs."

"And no one who does good could possibly have a secret?" 

Bruce gave you a look. "He also has no criminal connections. Or a tattoo of a dagger through a rose."

"Of course he doesn't! He's being clever! Doesn't make him innocent!" 

"Certainly doesn't make him guilty!" Bruce turned to face you, arms crossed over his chest. "What evidence do you have?" 

"I don't have any. I just know it's him!" 

"Not good enough." The words came out in a growl, and it was tough not to wilt away under the intensity of the glare. There weren't many people who could staredown Batman, but you were damned sure you were going to be one of them. 

"It's. Him. Trust me."

"Give me proof and I'll consider it. Until then we're going to focus on what we actually know; that a gang baring this symbol is trying to flood the streets with drugs. Finding out who they are is more important than a wild goose chase."

"It's not-" 

"Enough! Go home, Y/N."

"You're benching me?!" 

"No. I'm giving you a chance to re-evaluate and come back with a clear head."

You wanted to argue. You were pissed and he was brushing you off. But he was also adamant, and arguing would be like talking to a brick wall. 

"Fine."

"Good. Be here tomorrow for patrol."

You turned and stalked your way to the back of the cave where you could change back into your civilian clothes in peace. So maybe you tossed the discarded pieces of armor to the floor a little harder than was necessary, you didn't really care. You hated that Bruce didn't believe you, thinking that by now you'd at least earned some trust. And it wasn't like he never went on gut instinct. He often followed it until he found tangible evidence. But it seemed he valued his rich friend over your thoughts. 

You looked down at the suit once you were done, and started to pick it up. You were mad at Bruce, not Alfred, and you weren't going to let him clean up your mess. 

Like he knew you were thinking about him, Alfred appeared, hands clasped behind his back. "Are you okay, Miss Y/N? Master Bruce can be a bit too brusque sometimes."

Chuckling softly, you nodded. "I'm fine, Alfred, it's nothing I've not handled before."

"He can be quite protective of his friends."

You decided not to say how you thought you were his friend too. 

"So it seems." Busying yourself with putting the suit back in its case properly, you hoped Alfred would drop the subject. 

Thankfully, he did. "Before you leave, are you sure you don't wish to join us for Christmas lunch? There will be more than enough, and as they say, the more the merrier."

"They also say three's a crowd." Facing Alfred again you smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate the offer, really, but I do have plans."

Alfred watched you a moment, looking to see if you were telling the truth no doubt, and for a second you could've sworn he looked disappointed when he saw you were. "In that case, take this." He brought his hands forward, showing you the wrapped gift he'd had hidden behind him. "It's from both of us."

Meaning it was from Alfred, but Bruce had forgotten. 

You took the gift, feeling the weight of it in your hands. It had give to it, so probably a sweater or some other item of clothing. Whatever it was, you had no doubt that it would be gorgeous. You slipped the item into your bag carefully, and kissed Alfred's cheek, feeling him smile. "I've left gifts for you and Bruce under the tree."

"Quite stealthy of you, miss. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Alfred."

~

The present was a sweater. A deep red cable-knit sweater that was almost too soft to be real. It was beautiful and warm and comfy, and Alfred definitely knew you well. 

You wore it to lunch, laughing when the young girl that launched herself at you at the door commented on how soft it was. 

"Wow, Wayne really goes all out for his employees, huh?" Chloe, the girl's mom said, hugging you in return. 

"Not like he can't afford it." It wasn't a lie really. You had started to work for Bruce since you'd started 'working' with him, and he was a good enough boss to make sure everyone received a nice gift. Just maybe not that nice. 

"True enough."  She laughed, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

"Aunt Y/N! Come see what Santa brought me!" Mollie tugged at your hand, pulling you away from Chloe and over to the tree where a pile of presents sat. She started showing you each one, going on about it excitedly and making you look every individual item over before moving to the next one. 

Glancing over your shoulder, Chloe was watching you both. She mouthed a 'thank you' and you smiled. You'd do anything for either of them. Including making sure Mollie had the best Christmas possible. 

You helped Chloe make lunch while Mollie played and watched some dumb Christmas movie, and for a couple of hours, everything was perfect. Until you'd just finished clearing up and there was a knock on the door. 

Mollie ran to answer. "Hell-ah!" Her yell had you spinning away from the sink, blood running cold as four masked men barged into the apartment. One had Mollie in his arms, pistol aimed at her head. 

"Stay calm and no one gets it." Another said while the two remaining crooks aimed their guns at you and Chloe. 

"Mommy!" 

"Shut up!" The man holding her growled, pressing the barrel firmer to her temple. 

The first one to speak and one of the others started grabbing everything and shoving it into bags, the fourth keeping you and Chloe trapped in the kitchenette with his gun trained on you. 

"These two're pretty, boss. Whatcha say abou' lettin' us 'ave a little Christmas treat?" 

Chloe shuddered next to you, sniffing quietly. 

"Don't see why not. We can spare a few minutes."

Like hell that was going to happen. 

You glanced down at the counter, weighing up your options. If you were suited it'd be easier to mount an attack, but as it was there was next to nothing separating you from their bullets. 

There was a knife in the dish rack to your left, sharp enough to do some damage. To your right were some ingredients that had yet to be put away. Flour. It could cause enough distraction. 

With one hand you pushed Chloe to the floor in the same instant as you tossed the knife across the room. It hit the guy holding Mollie square on the hand gripping the gun. He yelled, the gun dropping and his grasp on Mollie loosening. The girl reacted, jerking herself loose and dropping to the floor. 

There was no time to make sure she was hidden. You grabbed the flour, tossing it over the man in front of you before he even knew what was happening. You caught the gun, wrenching it from him and tossing it aside. Using his body and the momentum, you shoved him forward, barging him into the other two. 

A gunshot rang out, the bullet flying past your ear. You pushed the one you were holding hard against another, letting him go in favor of taking down the last one steady on his feet. Another shot and you felt the pain in your leg. A quick glance down saw blood on your thigh. Just a graze it seemed. 

You moved again, disarming the one with the gun, a swift blow to the head with the butt of it knocking him down. The third went down seconds later. The only one left conscious was the one who'd grabbed Mollie. He was on his knees, knife still through his hand apparently not even taking notice of everything else. 

Not taking the chance, you jumped over the table, and in a moment he was slumped on the floor with his associates. 

You stood over him, panting. Sirens could already be heard in the distance, getting closer rapidly. You turned, facing back to the inside of the apartment. Your eyes landed on Mollie, hiding under the table. You opened your arms and she came bolting out, all but jumping into your arms as she clung to you. 

"It's okay," you whispered, "Are you hurt?" 

She shook her head and you sighed in relief. "Good girl. You're safe now." Another set of arms wrapped around you. Chloe. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Y/N…thank you."

"I promised I'd look out for you, and I meant it."

Footsteps were approaching rapidly, and the three of you were still hugging when the police burst in, guns drawn. 

This was going to be interesting to explain. 

~

"Miss Y/N, are you alright?" Alfred asked the moment you stepped foot in the cave. 

You shouldn't have been surprised, but you'd still hoped to avoid the conversation immediately. You smiled and nodded, "It was just a scratch. I've had worse."

"You were lucky," Bruce spoke from his seat at the computer, already suited up. "And foolish."

Biting back a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest. "I suppose you would've done differently?" 

"I wouldn't have risked too many questions being asked by showing off."

"No one asked too many questions. They barely even asked any questions at all. You seem to forget that I'm from a part of town where it's perfectly common for people to know how to scrap."

"Oh, so you come across regular citizens disarming four armed robbers often, then?" 

"Not unheard of." Not wanting to argue anymore, you turned and walked away, heading to get changed and ready to go out. 

The two of you went your own separate ways on patrol, sticking to your designated areas, and only communicated when necessary over the coms. Bruce thankfully kept any further comments to himself, only speaking when necessary for the job. 

It was a surprisingly quiet night. You'd expected worse since half the police force was off with their families. It seemed even the crooks wanted to take Christmas off. 

You got back to the cave tired and cold, but not entirely unhappy. Being out in Gotham at night was surprisingly relaxing, especially when it was quieter. 

"We need to talk." There went your good mood. 

"About?" 

"Today. If anything like that ever happens again, wait it out."

"So I was supposed to just stand by and watch as they robbed the place?!" 

"We could've tracked them down tonight."

"Yeah, that would've been real easy. Track down four amateurs who just picked the joint at random. Come on, Bruce, we both know that would've been a needle in a haystack!" 

"It would still be a better option than risking yourself!" 

"It's exactly what you would've done in that situation!" 

"I'd have kept my head, and not needlessly risked my own safety if there was no risk of any harm actually happening."

You scoffed, shaking your head. Liar. "They had a gun to a child's head! I don't care if they weren't planning on shooting, the threat was enough!" 

Bruce's jaw clenched. Apparently, he didn't know that. "You could've been killed."

"Worse things would've happened if I hadn't risked it." Bruce frowned, clearly not understanding. "They weren't planning on just leaving once they got the goods. They were going to stay for a little Christmas treat." 

Now he got it. 

"So don't stand there and tell me how I should've waited it out! For once get off your god damned high horse, and stop acting like I don't know what I'm doing! I know, Bruce. I know I could've been hurt or killed, that it was dangerous. Trust me, it wasn't my ideal way to spend Christmas day either. But I'm not apologizing for it. I'm not going to say sorry for protecting an innocent woman and her child, even if it had ended with me going down!" 

"Y/N-"

"I'm going home. I've had enough of being treated like a child for one night." Turning sharply, you stomped away, not failing to notice how the night had ended this way twice in a row now. 

You did love working with Bruce. Hell, you were fond of him in general, but he was infuriating recently. Maybe the two of you were just incompatible as a team. You wanted equal footing, but it always seemed that Bruce wanted someone to give orders to. And it wasn't like you weren't fine with listening to him. He had the experience. But when it came to the point that he was trying to order you about for every little thing? That was too much. 

You were midway through stripping when you heard the footsteps approach the secluded changing area. They were too heavy to be Alfred's, and much louder than Bruce usually was, which meant he was purposely giving you a heads up. 

You didn't stop. You'd been semi-nude around each other enough times over the last few months that it had long stopped being an issue. You finished taking off the outer suit and started removing the thinner layer underneath until you were down to the shorts and vest. 

"Does it hurt?" 

You glanced down at the bandage around your thigh. It had been hours since you'd taken pain meds. "It's fine."

Bruce moved to stand next to you, starting to pull off his own armor. "Are you okay? In general."

"I'm fine." You moved away from him, tugging your jeans and sweater back on. 

"If you keep saying that, it might start sounding believable."

"Didn't think you cared much either way."

There was a long pause, and yeah, maybe that was a bit of a low blow. "Of course I care, Y/N." His voice was soft enough that you were almost inclined to believe him. "What we do is dangerous, and I don't want to see you get hurt unnecessarily. But you were right in what you did today. It is what I would've done."

That was probably as close to an apology as you were going to get. "I don't need you to babysit me, Bruce." You sat heavily on one of the benches lining the wall and looked at him. "I've been through more than even you know, more out of the mask than under it."

Bruce pulled a t-shirt over his head and frowned as he walked his way over to sit next to you. "Y/N-" 

You shook your head, "I'm tired, Bruce. I don't want to argue anymore."

"I don't want to argue. I was just going to ask if you were okay again."

Oh. "Yeah," you sighed, "It's just been a day."

Bruce nodded, "Are they alright? The others?" 

"Terrified, but not hurt. Wanted me to stay with them tonight, but I put them up in my place for the night instead." You'd been looking down at your hands, but glanced up at Bruce as you smiled, "They also kinda hate you now. I told them you had me working."

Bruce chuckled, "Thanks." He fell quiet and you didn't have the energy to muster up any small talk either. You were about to get up and leave when he spoke again. "Who are they? I saw the names on the report, and I know they aren't family."

"It's…complicated. I promised someone once that I'd look out for them."

"Someone who isn't around anymore I take it?" 

"Yeah."

"You were close."

"Something like that."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"With some things, it doesn't matter how much time passes, it continues to hurt."

"Yeah."

"What happened?" 

"It's a long story."

"I've got nothing better to do."

"Would've thought Bruce Wayne would be busy making the most of what's rest of his Christmas night. There must be parties going on still."

"Great. Rooms teeming with people who've had too much to drink and no longer know about personal space. My favorite."

“So you’d rather be here and share feelings? It’s a Christmas Miracle!”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I am. Surprisingly, I didn’t learn that from you.”

“Okay, so I’m not the best sharer. That doesn’t mean you should practice the same habits. I’m here to listen, Y/N.”

You sighed, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater as you debated just getting up and leaving anyway. That’s what a part of you wanted. But the other part wanted to open up. And Bruce was probably the only person you could trust enough to do so. If you got lucky it might even change his opinion on some things.

“His name was Dean. Grew up together. Same building. Same classes. Spent as much time in the other’s apartment as we did our own. Best friends. First dance. First date. First kiss.”

“First love?”

“First love. We didn’t exactly have it easy, but we were doing good for ourselves. Got into college and everything, and that was pretty rare for kids like us back then. There was an old warehouse nearby, abandoned. We used to sneak in and hang out there. About the only time, we actually got some peace and quiet for ourselves. We could stay there for hours, just sitting and...being with each other. No talk, no pretense. Just us. The night we found out we’d gotten into college, we went. It was late. Closer to the next day really. Didn’t matter. Not to us. I don’t know how long we sat there. We talked about dreams, the future, our future, everything two hopeful kids could talk about. It was perfect.”

Pausing a moment, you closed your eyes. “Then men came in. Six men. We were near the back so they didn’t see us immediately, and too busy making sure it was clear outside to notice us scrabble to hide. There were some beams in there, old, surprising they were still standing. We managed to hide behind them. One each. I thought maybe at first they were the owners of the place. Maybe someone had bought it and was checking it out, or something. But then they started to talk, and it was clear that if they did own it, they weren’t planning on doing anything legal.”

“Drugs mostly. How and where they were going to distribute it, you know the deal. We’ve heard it enough times. But one of them went on about something else. About leaving the country for a few years. He was their boss by the sounds of it, and he said that if he wasn't around suspicion would lay off him and that was what he wanted. It…was terrifying. We knew this shit was going on, but to actually listen to plans being made? We were out of our depth. I remember thinking that we just had to keep calm. Hide and wait it out then run and try and decide what to do. So simple in theory."

"Dean must've been leaning on the beam or something, I don't really know. But it creaked. Loudly. Or it seemed loud. They were on alert in a second. They found him. Dragged him out. I don't know how they didn't see me."

"They beat him. He told them what he heard, swore he'd never utter a word, but they beat him anyway. Couldn't really see much from where I was, but I could hear the hits, hear him cry. And then…then the boss ordered another to shoot Dean. Kill him. Said they couldn't risk him going to the cops. I couldn't see Dean, but I saw the gun. I watched it fire and I heard him drop. And they just left him there. They left him and walked out. Said no one would give a shit."

"I ran to him as soon as they were gone. He was still alive. Barely. His shirt was soaked and he was bleeding so fast. I didn't know what to do. He was scared. Knew he was dying. And he asked me to take care of his sister. I told him I wouldn't need to, that he'd be there, but he made me swear. Made me swear that I would and I did. He told me to go then. To get out before the cops showed up to investigate the gunshot."

"And I did. I ran. And I didn't stop running until I was home and locked away and scrubbing the blood off my hands until it hurt. I left him to die. Alone. Because I was scared. What's worse is that I let them get away with it because I was scared. Because I was too much of a coward to say anything. I let the cops brush it off, say Dean just got in with the wrong crowd, and drop the investigation. I just…made sure his sister was okay. Made sure his niece was okay. And…never said a word to anyone. Until now."

You stopped, taking a shuddering breath. Your leg was trembling, knee bouncing, your hands balled into fists so tightly your nails were close to breaking the skin of your palm. Bruce was quiet, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him and see what he was thinking. He was probably getting ready to tell you how you should've been braver. How you should've stopped them or helped the police, or done something other than run and hide. 

Then his hand was taking yours, prying your fingers so he could slip his own under them. "You weren't a coward."

"I ran. Pretty sure that makes me a coward."

"It makes you smart. You were a kid, Y/N. A kid with no training. If you'd tried to do anything they would've killed you. And going to the cops with accusations like that would've gotten you killed too. You did what you had to to survive, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Thank you." It didn't particularly change the guilt, but finally telling someone did feel like a relief, and Bruce saying you were right did mean a lot. 

"Of course. Do you have any idea who they were? If they're still around? We can take them down." 

You hesitated and nodded. "Yeah, I have an idea. The man with the gun. I saw his wrist. He had a tattoo." You met Bruce's eyes. "Of a dagger stabbing a rose."

"That's how you knew them. What else?" 

"Not much. It wasn't much to go on, so I left it alone. For years. Just focused on Chloe and Mollie. Then one day, a couple of years ago, I was doing some laundry, had the TV on in the background. Some announcement for a new charity in Gotham. I was only half listening. The founder came on to give a speech. The moment he spoke…I was back in that warehouse all over again. It was exactly the same. It was him. The one who gave the order. The one who disappeared. The one who was now back."

"Y/N, are you saying… "

"It was Curt Roman, Bruce. He was the one giving orders in the warehouse."

Bruce looked surprisingly shocked. "You're sure? It was years…"

"I heard that voice in my dreams every night for years. I'm sure. And I looked into it. He left for Europe days after."

"This is why you started doing this."

"Yeah. I had…some more to go on, and I…I just couldn't let him get away with it again."

Bruce nodded but was silent. You thought maybe he was going to insist you were wrong. That it must be someone else. The trauma of the night must've messed with your memory. He'd be wrong, of course, but you weren't prepared to argue the point anymore. If he wouldn't believe you, you'd take Roman down by yourself one way or another. 

"Then let's get him. Together."

That you weren't expecting. "You believe me?" 

"I do. If you say he was there, that he's involved, then he is."

You smiled. Bruce returned it. "Thank you, Bruce."

"We're going to bring him to justice, Y/N. I promise."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever!)

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy @thefanficfaerie @bkwrm523 @theweepingvulcan91 @wonhos-world @sagyunaro @verdonafrost @huntersstuff591 @notsohappysunflower @quoththe-raven @startrekstartrash @thatanonymouschocolate @malaanii @bookcaseninja

(If you want on or off the taglist for this series, let me know! :) )

[nelllraiser]

empty hearths | nic & nell

PREVIOUSLY: Plot Drop Page

LOCATION: Nic’s Home

TIME: 10:05 PM

PARTIES: Nicodemus Bossier and Nell Vural

TRIGGERS: Family Death

Nell still didn’t have her license. The thought had bizarrely occured between all the shock and crying that had taken place since she’d woken up next to her sister’s headless body, Nell covered in blood that wasn’t her own. Generally one to have a strong stomach, it’d only taken a moment of looking between Bea’s body and the red splatters on herself to make the connection, and she’d promptly retched, body refusing to handle the reality of her situation. But she still didn’t have a license, and here she was driving to Nic’s home, hands clutching the wheel as if her very life depended on it, and trying not to think too hard about what was in the back of Bea’s car. It was the only way she could move the body. Nell refused to think of it as Bea’s, some part of her brain choosing to protect itself from that reality, as well. As she advanced on Nic’s door, the panic rose in her throat again, mixed with the black hole of pain that threatened to suck everything into its center, so massive and raw that she could barely make sense of it. “Nic!” she called out, voice broken and rough from her screams and cries. “Nic, please!” The words became more desperate, trying to keep herself together, but the composure quickly slipping. “I need help! Please.”

He hadn’t gotten to bed. Between what had happened with Skylar and his own thoughts, it was hard to shake the concern of what might happen if he wasn’t there. An unknown feeling that sat in his hands as he sharpened knives and cleaned guns. It was irrational, Nicodemus knew it, but sleep could wait. So when he heard a car approach and a familiar voice that didn’t sound familiar in the way he knew it, he was already moving. Senses alert, nerves near to shot. I need help. It was Nell. He knew it before he opened, no, threw the door open. Caught it in time before it cracked against the wall. Something had happened. He could smell the blood, heavy in his nose. A hand hovered towards Nell. Stopped before it reached her. The way she looked at him, he was afraid she might collapse to dust. “Nell,” he called gently. “What happened?”

Faced with the first live person she’d seen since everything, Nell crumbled, her body and hands covered in her sister’s blood beginning to shake without her so much as realizing they were beginning to do so. Everything was moving so fast, too fast, and yet seemed to be stuck in a statis in the same breath. She looked up at Nic, somehow both seeing him and looking through him with an utterly lost expression on her face. “I need help,” she repeated, quieter this time, still thoroughly in her state of shock. Tear tracks were still fresh on her face, running through the blood that had fallen on her when Bea had launched herself in front of Nell. “She’s- she’s-” her voice broke again, a dry sob coming forth, afraid to say the words aloud. “He killed her. He was supposed to kill me, but he killed her.” It was difficult to make sense when your head wouldn't stand still, when you weren’t sure if the world was still there, or if you were simply wishing it wasn’t. 

She was falling apart in front of him and all Nicodemus could do was stand there. Breathless, throat wrenched tight. Something terrible had happened and it was wrecking through her, he could see it. He looked down at her, blood cold and senses eerily still. Blood covered her face and hands. From what he could tell, it was fresh. Was it hers? Goddamn it, what was happening? These things happened. He knew these things did. It wasn’t the time to think about when he had likely been the cause of such things. It was a far off thought and one day it would catch up to him, but looking at Nell, he decided it would not be then. Someone had died and it hadn’t been her. Lightning struck him and his eyes opened by a slim margin. It wasn’t with relief that he breathed. “What’re you talkin’ about, Nell? Who got hurt?” His voice was quiet as he spoke to her, his brow furrowed. Blood had stuck bits of her hair to her face and like his grandmother had once done for him, one of the handful of times he saw her, he brushed it back.

The hand was the only thing steady in Nell’s world for a moment, but the feel of it also reminded her that this was real. She was actually- “Dead. He- he took her head.” Processing wasn’t going all that well for her, unable to make sense of the world she’d woken up to, a world that was much changed from how she remembered it. “My- my sister.” There it was. Now that she’d said the words, she couldn’t get them back. Now that she wasn’t the only one who knew...fuck, this was actually happening, wasn’t it? Tears came to her eyes once more, unbidden and somewhat unnoticed as she shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were ricocheting off the walls of it. “Bea.” Her voice cracked on the single name, the wetness on her cheeks only growing damper as she went on. “Bea’s dead. It’s supposed to be me!”

He. Was it a trophy killer? The way she spoke about it, that seemed to be likely. God damn it. But whose head was--Sister. Nicodemus didn’t blink nor breathe nor move. He went still. The realization seemed to cut into them both. Fuck, he couldn’t begin to imagine. Didn’t know where to start. His hand settled on her shoulder, light but present all the same. Looking at her, his eyes started to glaze. It was strange, the pain that came over him. He wasn’t wounded but she was and he could feel it in his own bones, his own skin. Bea. He had met Bea. Laughed with her, dealt with a brownie infestation. There and then gone. Her kitchen would be empty. Quiet. Hollowed out. It wasn’t alright and he refused to say as much. There was no comfort to bring to this that he knew of. “Nell I’m...” He didn’t know what it was that compelled him to move. Maybe it was her shaking, her trembling, that knife edge she was balanced on of completely collapsing that he could see. Not like this. Slowly, he brought one arm around Nell and then the other. Held her because he was afraid that if he didn’t, she might fall away.

Once his arm went around her, Nell instinctively reached out to cling to him, his motion somehow making things both worse and better at the same time. It was as human as they could be in that moment, unsure of what to do and simply reaching out to offer physical comfort when words couldn’t be found, but it was also a reminder of why she needed comfort in the first place. Finally, she crumbled fully into the moment, and though it was terrible and cutting, it was needed, and something she couldn't ignore or bottle up. Pain this raw simply demanded to be felt, to wreck its havoc on whoever it inhabited. So she stood there for a few minutes, letting herself break into pieces as she cried against Nic, knowing that no one had ever seen this like this before, but feeling safe enough to have the emotions flood over her while he was here. It took a long few minutes to remember that she’d come here for a reason. She needed help. So finally she lifted her head, trying to vainly wipe away the new tears that had gathered on her face. “I need help,” she repeated the same words as before. “The body- I have it. I need- I don’t know where to put it. I can’t put it-” at the house. What if her dad came by? At least her mom was in Turkey. God, her mom. Nell had taken the thing she loved most in this world. “I don’t want- people can’t know. Not yet.”

Nicodemus didn’t say anything as he held her. Just stared out at the distance beyond and the Beetle she had driven there. Emotion, feeling or understanding it, wasn’t his strong suit. But he knew that sometimes a wound needed to bleed before it could heal. This wouldn’t heal anytime soon but if Nell needed to bleed, he could at least be there. That much he could do. The hunter didn’t know who he was, the one that had taken Bea’s head, but he reckoned the man couldn’t do much anymore if he didn’t have his. That thought grounded him. “I’ll help you.” It wasn’t a matter of I can. It was an I will. He let go of her to give her her space as she spoke. Christ, she had the body. Had driven all the way to his home with it. When he looked at her, his face bled with concern that he couldn’t quite restrain. He couldn’t quite keep the body with him. If Skylar just so happened upon it… He refused to think about it. It was easier to think of it as a body and not as Bea Vural’s. “They won’t,” he assured. It was alarming how quick the name came to him. Erin. She’d get it. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time he waltzed in with a body over his shoulder. But it would be different. Wholly different. His expression softened as he looked at Nell. “Do...Do you want me to wrap her up, Nell? I can do that for you.”

The first positive emotion to cross over Nell since she’d regained consciousness was one of relief. It barely registered as it washed over her, it being hard to outclass the pain, but at least it was something to feel other than the gaping hole in her chest. I’ll help you. She wasn’t alone in this. Nic was going to help. It meant more to her than she could even begin to process in the moment. “Thank you,” she managed to strangle out. “Thank you, Nic.” Nic was providing what she needed most in these moments. A direction. If she had direction, it would give her something to focus on rather than these feelings running rampant in her chest- stomach- head. Wrapping her up. That was something that should happen, shouldn’t it? “Are you sure? She’s just- it’s just-” she switched pronouns quickly once again, her mind already trying to create a wall between her and the pain, one that would make it so she could at least function without dissolving into the ground. “In the back of the car. I Summoned a tarp- I didn’t want- her car- she wouldn’t want-” She cut that train of thought off, some foolish part of having wanted to at least try to keep the car clean like Bea would have liked it. As if that mattered now.

“Ain’t gonna leave you out in the cold, kid.” Nicodemus said without hesitation. Focusing on that steeled the rest of him. She had come to him for help and that was all he needed to think about. He patted her shoulder, held it for a moment, and glanced at the car again. Bea was in the back of the thing. Good lord. He glanced at Nell and nodded once. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said as he started past her. Paused a moment to look at her. “Ain’t gotta be you. You got here. You did good. Let me do this for you.” He didn’t know if it would help. He didn’t know what place words had when grief buffeted her like unrelenting storm wind. It was a grief he couldn’t know, but whatever she needed, he could try. He walked slow to the car and when he got to the back of it, where that blood smell sat heavy like a living wall, he paused. He was used to the smell of blood. Used to it enough that he could ignore it more often than not. But he knew Bea and Nell, her blood, was just a few steps away. It was different when it was the blood of someone he knew, he found, and it sat uncomfortably in his throat. “You ain’t gotta see this, Nell.”

She wouldn’t be left out in the cold. Something was comforting about that even if it had been meant in a more literal sense than anything else. Nell didn’t have to face this completely alone. She had someone here, someone on her side, someone to help guide her through the endless night that had gathered on the path in front of her, leaving her blind. Nic would be the flashlight, to show the next steps that were needed. She’d done good? He’d said that, hadn’t he? Nell hadn’t imagined it? Part of her rebelled instinctively against the words, knowing that Bea was dead because of her. Nothing about that was good. And yet— if Nic said it, that meant he believed it, right? So she clung to this as well as her feet followed Nic on autopilot, grateful for all he was offering her tonight. “I’ve already seen it, Nic,” she offered quietly, still by his side. The thought of not being next to him was daunting. Part of her felt like if she was even relatively alone, she’d fall back into that panic without an anchor to keep her in place. And Nic was her anchor tonight. “I just- I can’t- touching her-” Nell didn’t want to feel it, the absolute lack of life and the clamminess of Bea’s skin beneath her fingers, that fire that lived in her sister finally extinguished, the hearth empty. “I’m sorry.”

She was right. She had already seen it. He heaved in a heavy breath solemnly. His hands wrung around each other before Nicodemus lifted the trunk of the car. Ignored the way the blood clung to his fingers as he pulled his hands away. The smell was overwhelming and he tensed as his guts roiled. Nell had been spared from having to smell that heavy copper. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The body--Bea’s-- was on the tarp, just as Nell said. But it didn’t feel right to wrap her in plastic. Didn’t feel right to crinkle her up like she wasn’t Bea Vural and her baby sister was looking at her. He murmured to Nell that he’d just be a second as he went over to his truck, not too far away, and returned with a faded plaid blanket. It was old, a relic in comparison to most things he had, but it would do. With the blanket over his shoulder, he shook his head. “You ain’t got to.” There was nothing to be sorry for, no apology that needed to be said. What had happened was beyond it and Nell Vural was the last person on earth that night that needed to seek absolution. Bea’s skin was frigid as he carefully bundled her in the sheet, a bit of plastic around where her head had been to keep the wound from sticking to the fabric. He went about it as efficiently as he could. Bundled up as she was, she was alarmingly light, small even, as he lifted her out of the back of the car. “Think I know someone that could keep her for you,” he said as he glanced at Nell. “Until you’re ready.”

Seeing Bea, even from this distance, was more than enough for Nell. Headless, bloody, grotesquely fit into a trunk that certainly wasn’t meant to hold a body. But instead of sending her back into emotional turmoil, the sight caused a numbness to begin its spread. Was this her body’s response to the pain? Shut everything down because seeing this— and knowing her sister was dead was far too much for her psyche to safely handle at the moment. Better to just push it away and feel nothing at all. If she let herself be carried away by these tidal waves of emotion, there’d be no making things right. Not that things could be made right. Things weren’t anywhere close to right so long as Bea was gone from this world. And yet seeing the blanket in Nic’s hands, it broke through that nothingness for a single moment, her throat tightening once again. It was such a small gesture, but one that caused tears to prickle at the corners of her not yet dry, eyes. When he hefted Bea, she finally looked away, not wanting to see the sight of her sister being carried, as limp as any other carcass. “Thank you,” she repeated once again. “Thank you, Nic,” she barely breathed, clinging to this gift he’d given her, something she could put her energy into that wasn’t the feeling of the fabric of her life and mind unravelling. “I don’t know how to-” How could she possibly let him even begin to know how much he’d been here for hers, the thing that had kept her from slipping through the cracks into a heap of nothingness. “Just thank you.” She didn’t even say anything along the lines of owing him, somehow knowing for once that this was something he was giving free of any strings whatsoever, even those that she might generally draw for herself when it came to paying people back. Besides, she was sure he knew that she’d do the same for him in return. Anything at all.

He didn’t know how to mourn. Had never been properly taught how to welcome the absence of someone that had been there one day and then gone the next. As he held Bea and looked at Nell, Nicodemus felt secondhand grief come down like heavy rain. It wasn’t secondhand. He couldn’t claim immunity and God knows he didn’t want to. Not for this. None of it was fucking right. His hold on Bea was stalwart as he carried her to his truck. The hunter reached for his phone but paused when Nell spoke, his gaze pulled towards her. His thumb hovered over Erin’s name before the phone slipped back into his pocket. It could wait. That sensation of heavy rain gathered in his eyes as he walked towards her. “Ain’t gotta thank me, Nell,” he said, throat tight as a drop slipped from the inner corner of his eye. “I’ll get her taken care of.” Speech proved difficult, with the way that emotion choked, but he tried. Unsure of what else to say, he put his hands on her shoulders. Looked her in the eyes. Ignored her sister’s blood on her face. He shook his head and carefully, slowly, pulled her into another hug. Why she had gone to him, he didn’t know, but it meant something. Rain continued to fall from a well he didn’t know had been filled. He might not be good at it, his hands too good at breaking shit, but he could try. “I got you, kid.”

[seblaine-rph]

Calling out an M/s rp

Now for my callout posts against @devilskeyhq, warning others of their problematic behavior and educating the admin team so that they can learn to be better admins to their players. Remember while reading this that I have spoken with almost a dozen people about this at this point and they all say the same things, with screenshot evidence to prove it:

First things first, the tea. For those that don't want to read this whole thing, I'll summarize. DevilsKeyHQ is an M/s rp that allows non consensual activity in character and refuses to add a warning that people can see before they apply that lets them know. They were told that they were triggering their players that expected to be in a safe, sane, and consensual group but were subjected to mass rape and their response was to publicly humiliate everyone that had complained and allow their other players to rant about how wrong it was to complain and how upset everyone was to have to alter the group in order to keep everyone safe. 

They bully people with autism both ic and ooc by treating their inquiries and commentary as stupid and using microaggressions to humiliate them and make them feel invalid. 

They're stalking @thedaltonsanctuary because it's a real D/s roleplay that two of their previous players have had since 2017 and there's a real concerning level of paranoia being thrown out in order to slander them; the moment that TDS started to take off, they decided there wasn't room in the tags for two groups and they kicked them out of DK without warning or anything happening other than TDS getting a bunch of apps, and started trying to bully the group and the players completely out of the roleplay community. There are still players in DK that are too afraid to leave right away because they don't want to be stalked, harassed, and bullied because of the fact that they were made to feel uncomfortable and unsafe. Some of them plan on leaving roleplay entirely as soon as it’s safe to leave DK without being noticed or being obvious about not agreeing with the admins. 

My opinion on the matter is that two people very unfortunately chose to "give themselves a break" from admining their own groups and got to know people in a group that is headed by very toxic admins and a couple of toxic players as well. They were kind enough to try to take care of other people, even though they didn't have to and knew that they were probably going to get kicked out for telling the admins that people weren't comfortable. They were warned by the friends that had been in the group that they were almost definitely going to be either bullied out or immediately removed. The admins didn't like that there was someone else that was more knowledgeable on D/s and they didn't like that there was someone who was looking out for the safety of the whole group instead of putting the admins and their friends first. And the real tipping point was watching another roleplay flourish-- by the same people that had already proven themselves to be more knowledgeable and better at being admins. Now they're trying to slander this group in an attempt to become the only smut group in the tags and it's honestly so very middle school and everything I'm about to go through disgusts me to my core.

Before I begin, I’d like to remind everyone that none of this would have happened if people weren’t triggered by M/s content dominating what was supposed to be a D/s rp without any warning about the content. I’d also like to remind everyone that when this problem was brought to the admin team, it was as easy as accepting that they may have done something wrong and deciding to either end all M/s activity (which some people seemed to not want) or label their main with a warning so that nobody else was triggered by that surprised. If you’re looking for a TLDR on how this should have been handled, that’s it right there. There is no reason at all for any of what I’m about to say to have happened. 

I'll start with the easiest thing to explain; the bullying of people with autism. I'll explain quickly here that people that are neurotypical do not think in the same ways that people who aren't. This causes an uncomfortable rift in communication that when not addressed properly, can become bullying. @disabilityrph is going to be posting a guide very soon on how to spot and avoid bullying people because of their autism, as has definitely happened in this case. So I won’t go into too much detail, but I will give you an example.

EXAMPLE: If you as an admin write out an event post explaining what it going on in the roleplay, there is never an example in which it is okay to passive aggressively dictate the thought that any question given is a stupid question.

HOW THAT WORKS: If someone asks, "Will this be involved?" the proper reply is never going to be, "Why would that be involved? It doesn't make sense that it would be." Just because you find the answer to the question obvious, does not mean that everyone does, especially someone with autism. The proper reply is a simple answer; yes or no, and if you feel like it might be necessary you can add why that is the answer. As an admin, you never want to make any one feel humiliated for asking a question in order to fully understand your group. There is never a stupid question. All questions are valid. You have to remember that not everyone thinks in the same way that you do, some people will have questions that you didn’t consider. Some people will read what you wrote and have questions that you think the answers to are obvious, but clearly they’re not if someone is asking! Nobody should ever get a sarcastic or passive aggressive answer from an admin. 

After speaking with multiple autistic players within the grpc, as well as players within DevilsKey itself, I have been told that this happens a lot. They will ask questions ooc and people will reply as if they are stupid for asking. When they bring up thoughts in character that other people don't agree with, they get treated like they're stupid again. I've been shown screenshots of this happening to people in DevilsKeyHQ with my own eyes. This is a damned shame.

The next topic is the fact that their roleplay is obviously a Master/slave roleplay because of the fact that a large group of people were raped by the NPCs that the admins have created. I saw that there was ooc warning that a punishment was coming, but the simple fact is that nobody would ever expect rape to be involved in a D/s punishment. Nobody would expect anything that left lasting damage, because punishments are not meant to be traumatic in D/s. A punishment is meant to better a person, they should walk away feeling as though they have learned a lesson and worked through anything that they had to feel bad for. If there is any power play that is being used to traumatize people or make them do literally anything at all that is against their will, that is M/s and not D/s. The distinction is important because people use D/s as a means of therapy, to get over their trauma. Someone who was raped, for example, might become a submissive so that they can work through their trauma under the guidance of a Dominant and if that Dominant chose to rape them as a punishment because they weren't fitting their role well enough? That would be abuse, that is not D/s. BDSM holds RACK and the concept of safe, sane, and consensual above all else.

Asking for that distinction to be made clearly is completely within a person's rights here on Tumblr. It's a smart thing to do, and any admin that cared at all about creating a safe space for their group would never do anything like that. They would take their problematic behavior into account and properly label the main Tumblr blog for their roleplay. I read through it, it does not at all sound like the roleplay that I have screenshots of in my inbox. You do not rape someone anally for hours and hours against their will in a roleplay where the words "safe, sane, and consensual" are written on the main. That's just common sense and decency.

The players that were kicked out are not the only ones that I have spoken with and they are not the only ones that were uncomfortable. They're also not the only people that will be leaving the group because of this. 

The sequence of events for how this roleplay came to my attention are as follows:

Two roleplayers were writing with multiple members of DevilsKey and chose to join the group at the request of their friends. They created characters that had family connections to their friends, and wrote their bios with their friends, and their friends had all been in the group for months at that point. This was not a calculated plan, this was an attempt to roleplay in the roleplay community. They joined the ooc discord server before their apps were accepted in order to get a better understanding of the roleplay, but all of the roleplay was hidden and nothing that was shown gave them any indication that it was an M/s rp. These two players brought in original characters and immediately made various connections with other players within the roleplay. They were more active than the admin's own characters, if you ask for my opinion on it. That proves that they were interested in making connections with DevilsKey, they put the effort in to make them.

Then the punishment was warned. I read this warning. Nowhere did it say anything that would in any way warn about the content of the punishments. It is specifically stated that they are focusing on D/s so it should be a normal D/s punishment. Instead, when the plot dropped, a large group of characters were stripped and dragged to cells where they were denied food and tortured for an entire week. These characters were raped and humiliated, abused and broken in ways that defy every covenant of the D/s and BDSM handbook.

From day one, people were triggered. I have screenshots of DMs that go back that far. But the player that was being complained to was also told not to go to the admins for the first few days, because the people who were upset were afraid that the admins would bully them and kick them out for "complaining." Days were spent with these people being triggered by the rape that was being forced in front of their eyes. They stayed in the group for the same reason that anyone stays in an abusive relationship; you can't let go of the "good things." They had spent months in this group, getting to know these players ooc and developing their muses ic. They were attached, especially considering the lack of groups in the tags and the lack of involvement in the grpc.

But enough became enough eventually. When people started to realize that they were triggered and that they were not feeling any better, they weren't sleeping, they didn't want to eat, and the punishment was coming to a close but they were beginning to realize that even though the plot was about to be over, it wasn't over. Their characters all had lasting damage, some just mental but most physical as well. The damage was done. Even if they managed to drag their characters out of the depressing hole they were in, they had to fear this happening again. They didn't sign up for an M/s rp. They didn't sign up for rape. They didn't sign up for trauma. So they hadn't expected it. And nobody gets to decide that a person’s feelings aren’t valid because it took them time to be comfortable having them relayed. 

The player that is suddenly being accused of being "far too close to his Dominant character" went to the admin as a fellow admin. He explained that he had previous admin experience, so he understood their position. He explained that he had real world experience in the D/s community, so he understood what he was talking about based on his own experience and that of the community he spends time in every day, and had a serious concern for the wellbeing of the writers in the group. He told them that he didn't want to start trouble, that he wanted everyone to remain calm and that he didn't want anyone to be anxious. When he got busy and had to table the conversation for real life, he even told the admin that he wasn't silent because of them. He was very gentle. He explained the difference between M/s and D/s and he explained why it is important to properly label groups. He was asked a series of questions that made it look like his concern was being taken seriously, and then it was completely not taken seriously in the group chat.

The reason players had asked one person to go to the admins was because they were too afraid to, they were intimidated and they did not want to deal with any negative blowback they'd get for being upset. The admins proved their concern to be founded when they not only posted about everything that had been said in the ooc, they allowed other players to basically humiliate the people who complained by saying they didn't agree, so nobody could be upset, and in fact they were the ones who were greatly upset and the people who complained should feel guilty about it because now it changes the whole entire plot of the entire group for them and they don't get to finish adding more traumatic plots to the event. One of the admins even joined in to talk about how mad they were that people weren't comfortable enough with them to talk to them? And explained that they had admin issues in the past too, but despite how anyone might be feeling or what makes them most comfortable... it's a slight against the admins and they've been hurt.  

I don't think I need to explain why that is wrong. No admin should allow their players to speak like that in the ooc chat. No admin should air that much dirt in public either; it would have sufficed to say, "After further consideration, we have decided that there might be a few issues with this plot drop and we are here to let you know that it's being dropped. The past still happened, but no further punishments will be doled out and we are considering a new way of dealing with punishment plots in the further." As an admin, it is your job to keep your players safe, and you really dropped the ball there. Not only did you let your players publicly humiliate people, leaving more than one of your players going to bed crying and thinking that they were going to wake up to the entire group hating them and/or their role being removed, but one of the admins added to it themselves and made people feel like now they really couldn't go to the admins. Who would go to someone who does not keep them safe? Who airs their complaints so everyone can boo at them on a public forum? Who shames and guilts them for being anxious? Especially when their concerns weren't really addressed and they were told they were wrong? The plot was ended, but it was made clear that it wasn't because the admins wanted to continue in a way that was safe for all of their players or to find a way to stay in D/s territory and out of M/s non con.

Both players that were removed stepped in the ooc chat to say that it would be better to be mindful of everyone's feelings, and that it wasn't really kind to invalidate all of the people that had complained. It was explained that if things had been properly labeled, this wouldn't have been an issue, because anyone who doesn't want to associate with non consensual activity would avoid it. Many players chimed in to agree with both sentiments.

That situation was taken care of in a poor way, but it was handled and it was ended. The players that were removed were not triggered or affected by M/s material. One of them was upset about the fact that their character was only punished once, in fact, while all of the admin's own characters had been punished three or four times and kept being pulled up to either get hurt or hurt other people. By force. In a D/s rp, let me remind you. But the fact that the players weren't kicked out then proves that this had nothing to do with their removal. It would be pretty shitty if it did, because for an admin to kick someone out for telling them that they had players triggered for days and feeling upset and then turn around and scream and wonder why nobody wants to bring any of their concerns to them is a level of denial I'm not ready to accept myself. Both players continued to plot ooc and they continued to write with multiple people. They were still talking to everyone that had been triggered, keeping tabs on them, making sure they felt alright. The admins were not doing anything to make sure their players were alright, despite knowing that they weren't.

Before they joined DevilsKeyHQ, both players had been talking to several other roleplayers about their previous Tumblr roleplays. They started a sfw au roleplay group a few months ago and had been talking to friends about previous group plots and new ideas to see if they wanted to work together to either bring an old group back to life or start a new one. TheDaltonSanctuary was open years ago and has not changed since it was originally opened, aside from the addition of a second admin. Multiple people from DevilsKeyHQ had been in TDS previously, when it opened the first time. That particular admin has at least 30 groups between discord and Tumblr. The one that their friends chose-- and I have screenshots of this too-- to encourage them to open was TDS. They opened for acceptances on the 18th. They joined DevilsKeyHQ on the 24th. The fact that the admins of DK want to try to say that TDS is in any way a copy of them or a threat to them when they are two entirely different roleplays and TDS was made years and years ago is all the proof that I need that the admins of DK are just petty, immature, and can’t handle not feeling as though they are the only and best option; but of course, there’s plenty of proof of that, in my opinion.

There have been allegations that they stole NPS from DevilsKey, but a quick look at the main proves that to be false. There are no OC NPC characters in TDS. It was also stated in the ooc discord server after they were removed from DK that the admins were upset and angry because one of the players had brought their OC Sterling twin to their own rp. Anyone is allowed to birth a muse and then decide that they like them so much that they want to see them in an au setting. The character that the other player brought to DK was an OC from his own group and he said so multiple times and nobody accused him of stealing from his own group? But the admins believe they own an OC because it was born in their group. 

Their official announcement for why these two were removed stated that they had:

taken an OC from DK to TDS and therefore they needed to be removed in order to "keep DK's plot safe" (but DK is completely unusable for an actual D/s rp)

clearly only joined DK to try to poach players for TDS (though they never once said a word about their rps to anyone, and wouldn't even say which plots were still active, which were groups, or which were 1x1s when talking ooc about what they've written before)

and finally for their "little outburst in the ooc group chat" in which they said that it wasn't kind to invalidate people who had been courageous enough to finally (after days of being unable to) asked for the admins to be informed that they were triggered

It's already been stated that TheDaltonSanctuary and DevilsKeyHQ have two entirely different plots. TDS is a safe environment where there is BDSM info in the ooc server and characters are placed in a sort of rehab and recreational environment that is geared towards mental health, education, and finding and maintaining a healthy claim. DevilsKeyHQ is one of those sex island groups, there have been thousands in the tags where the plot is always the same; people are taken to a sex island and have to live by M/s rules or they'll be punished with penetrative rape via multiple orifices.

With no reason to get rid of the players that knew more than they did, looked out better for their players, and now were thriving in a real D/s group... the admins kicked them out and made stuff up. If they were being removed for asking that the admins consider the safety of their players, it would have happened when it happened. If they were being removed for stealing from DK to put things in TDS, they would have kicked them out back then too-- because it was known that they had TDS for a long time before. They were only kicked out of the group when TDS started to gain traction and one of the admins brought their OC in and one of the players that had applied to TDS before the admins joined DK brought an OC from DK too. So it's clear that jealousy has fueled this entire debacle and it was so easy to solve.

[talpup]

Lost Song: 2

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

***So this fic will have a LOT more world building than my others.  Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.  

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009679/chapters/57812554

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going.  Your friendship means the world to me.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special thank you to those who have left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

2.1

“Why are we waiting out in the hall?”  Teris asked, eyeing the closed double doors.

“Because.” Twice snapped.  “I’m sorry Mistress.  Ilca dorms are protected.” The House Elf went on in meek apology.  “One can’t enter unless a member of the resident Ilca or invited in by one.”  Seeing a copy of himself Twice turned and demanded.  “Have you seen Aizawa?  He’s making the Mistress wait.”

The copy escorting Hizashi shook his head in answer and scolded. “Remember what Nedzu said.  No calling the Mistress, Mistress.”

Twice huffed at his copy, waving him away.

As if sucked into a whirlpool, the copy spun around and disappeared.

“Wha--” Hizashi shook his head.  The sight, though astounding, wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen these last two days.  “Teris!” Hizashi rushed to her.

Twice stepped in Hizashi’s way, a warding hand outstretched.  “No touching the Mistress!”

“Hey.” Teris snapped.  “I’m not your Mistress.  And he’s my friend.”

“Weak, unknowing friend.”  Twice snipped, his next words smooth and sweeter.  “The Mistress is too kind.”

Hizashi stepped around the House Elf and hugged Teris in a warm, friendly embrace.  Though they had only met each other a couple days ago they were in this boat together.  Cast adrift in unknown waters. Surrounded by literal monsters, all be it in human form, and told that this was their new home.  Their new life.  An experience like that would make fast friend's of anyone.

Teris stiffened but accepted Hizashi's hug.  She couldn’t say why she felt a protective instinct over Hizashi.  The sense of kinship was easily explained by the upheaval they were both going through.  But her guarded jealousy of him was different.  It wasn’t romantic. More familial.  Only deeper.  More binding.  Hizashi was hers.  And in a sense a part of her.

“How was the person who will be helping you learn?  Did they treat you well?”  If they didn’t I’ll be paying them a visit, she thought.

“Oboro? Yeah!  He seems like a fun guy.  He’s some kind of wind spirit called a Venti though he seemed pretty solid to me.  What about you?”

“Kai was… alright.”

Neither saw Twice’s lip curl at the mention of the Dragon.

Hizashi frowned.  “You don’t sound so sure.  Maybe they’ll let you come with me.  Oboro was really nice.”

“You heard what Yagi and Director Nedzu said about the difference of divisions.  Apparently I’m a beast and need to be taught by one.”

Twice nodded firmly.  “Kind for kind.  Fourth’s learn best from their own.  If no direct species can be found, genus, order, class, phylum, and lastly division kind for kind must be sought.  The closer line of connection.  The better it is for all.  Less chance of death and devastation.”

“Death and devastation!”  Teris balked.

“Too loud.”  A rough, low voice complained.  Shouta fixed tired eyes on Twice.  “Sprite.  Quit scaring my Ilca.”

“I’m not scaring.  Yes I am!  The Mistress must be protected.  You’re late!”

Shouta's eyebrows pulled together.  Mistress?  He mouthed the word, wondering at it.  Too exhausted to contemplate the idiosyncrasies of the clearly insane House Elf, he simply dismissed.  “Go away.”

Damn his class, Shouta thought, rubbing the back of his stress tightened neck.  He loved and would die for his students.  But on days like today, he just wanted to bind them all with his capture weapon, throw them in a dungeon, and forget they existed for a couple of weeks while he caught up on some much needed sleep.

Bakugou and Midoriya especially had been in rare form this afternoon.  It had been as if the two finally found something they agreed upon something.  And that thing had been testing him.  The Basilisk was extra aggressive toward everyone, spitting literal venom at his friends.  And Midoriya…  The Thoth was even more interested in exploring the limits of his own immortality.  As if the kid had read in one of his books that today was some great day to die.

Naturally, Midoriya had ended up at the healers.  Again.  And when Shouta went to check on him at the end of the day he had gotten an earful from Shuzenji. The old Nagual admonishing him to inform Midoriya what she no doubt told the boy every time he ended up in the healers. That just because Fourth’s were immortal didn’t mean they couldn’t die.

Twice spun around to Hizashi, remembering the questions and conversation he had bothered his copy with.  “You...”

There was an audible pop that left Hizashi's ears feeling as if he hadn’t swallowed during an altitude change.  For a moment he thought the House Elf had disappeared.  But quickly realized that wasn’t the case.  Twice had shrunk in size.  He remembered what Oboro had said about true forms and wondered it this was Twice’s.  It was cute.

Before Hizashi could ooh and aah, Twice went on, voice sounding as if he had taken a drag of helium.  “Don’t speak to me unless you have a task or order that falls within my domain.”

“Sorry…” Hizashi’s apology sounded more like a question.

Pitch growing higher, Twice continued to shrink like a deflating balloon, he bowed to Teris.  “Mistress.  If ever you need anything.  Don’t call!  Don’t hesitate to call.”

Shouta’s eyes narrowed.  House Elves cared nothing for the inhabitants of the house.  The only thing that mattered to them was the house itself. The reason they did things such as cook and clean was because it kept the place well ordered and running smoothly.  They weren’t servants.  More like mildly malevolent caretakers of the home that tolerated the residents because things, including homes, went mad when left alone.  So why was Twice offering assistance?

His headache pulsed in his temples.  Shouta grunted and ordered.  “Off with you.”

Twice hissed at the Sphinx, finally disappearing fully with a pop as he shrunk totally in on himself.

Hizashi blinked at the space Twice had been.  “Well that was… interesting.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”  Shouta sighed pushing passed them to get to the door.

He pushed one of the large double doors open and paused.  New Ilca members usually swore something when Binding to an Ilca clan.  From what he understood it was normally along the lines of being loyal to the Ilca clan they were joining and its purpose.

Shouta sighed.  To hell with it.  He was too tired to deal with all that. The two Foundling’s were lucky that he came by the dorm at all.  A part of him had been tempted to leave them out of the secure housing that was, or at least use to be, his private sanctuary.  It wasn’t as if Traverseen Hall didn’t have countless comfortable sitting or meeting rooms for the two to bed down in.  But that would have hardly made for a good first impression.  And, like it or not, these two were to be members of his Ilca.  For the sake of peaceful cohabitation some effort had to be made.

“Welcome. I accept you, or whatever.”  Shouta mumbled stepping in and holding the door for them.

There. It was done.  The Bind was set.  He officially had two members in his Ilca.

“I’m Yamada Hizashi.”  Hizashi held out a hand.

Shouta nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open.  All he wanted was to get a few winks of sleep before it was time to go out on patrol.  Just exchange names he drowsily told himself.  Don’t be rude.  For the sake of peaceful cohabitation, just try to be nice.

“Good for you.”  Shouta stifled a yawn.

Teris stepped forward.  “Are we boring you?”

Shouta turned to the woman for the first time.  His sight sharpened his senses enough for his weary mind to register the warm electric feeling that had been buzzing deep within him.  Her.  She was… Beautiful.  No.  Well, yes.  She was beautiful.  But that wasn’t what the tingling feeling was.  Her powers aura.  She was of ancient pedigree.

Suddenly Shouta felt wide awake.  “Not in the least.”  He cleared his throat, noticing Hizashi's hand.  Clasping the blonde’s forearm with a hand, he gave a firm squeeze of greeting.  “Aizawa. Shouta.”  He turned back to Teris.  “And you are?”

“Nova Teris.”  She took one look at Shouta's outstretched hand and pointedly turned away.  The man was rude.  He had already hurt Hizashi's feelings.  She didn’t like him.

Hand falling to his side without a care of her snub, Shouta set down the stack of homework that needed grading.  “I don’t have much stored in the kitchen.  But call for Twice.  He’ll complain about it, but will make you whatever you want.  You two do know how to call for the House Elf, don’t you?”

Hizashi nodded, smiling.  Happy to actually know something.  Oboro had taught him how to do it earlier in the day.  It wasn’t so much the name as the will behind it.

“Twice!” Hizashi called.

“No! Don’t--”

But it was too late.  Twice appeared.

Shouta glared at Hizashi, unsuccessfully stifling a growl.

“What is it?  How may I help you?”  Twice asked.

“Go away.”  Shouta ordered.

Within the confines of the dorms Shouta had claimed as Ilca leader, Twice was forced to obey whether he wanted to or not.  The House Elf disappeared.

“It was a question.  Not a test.  What are you?  One of my students?”

Teris moved between the glaring man and Hizashi.  “And what are you?  An asshole?  It was an easy mistake.  You’d think as a teacher you’d know how to be more clear with your questions.”

Shouta's head tilted.  He took in Teris’ protective stance and smirked. “Pack beast.”

“What did you call me?”

Shouta all but rolled his eyes.  “You hear me.  Are you simply looking to be offended?  You might not know much, but I know for a fact you were told you were a beast.”

Teris glared.

“What?” Shouta huffed.  “I stated a fact.  It’s not like I called you an asshole.”

“Because I wasn’t acting like one.”  Teris retorted.

“That’s debatable.”

Hizashi’s eyes darted between the two.  He hated conflict.  “So!  What are you?”

Shouta turned to the loud blonde.  Why was he so loud?  Maybe it just seemed that way because he was overtired.  His exhaustion returned, making his shoulders sag.  “Sphinx.”

“Can we see your true form?”  Hizashi asked, brightly.

“No. True forms aren’t some parlor trick.”  He heard Teris’ low growl and struggled not to growl in return.

Damn it.  So much for good first impressions and peaceful cohabitation. Shouta opened his mouth to tell the sad looking Hizashi maybe later, but thought better of it.  He wasn’t the best at socializing; and his temper and exhaustion clearly weren’t helping him.  The longer he stayed the worse he would make of this.

“Look. I got patrol in less than an hour.  There’s eight open quarters to chose from.  Pick whichever one you like.  You know how to call Twice if you need him.  Please.  For your sake and mine.  Don’t call the House Elf unless it’s to give an order that has to do with some sort of household chore.  They can be spiteful when offended. Causing inconveniences ranging from too cold or too hot rooms. Blaring light at night.  Damp or torn clothes.  Or worse, clothes washed in a Tongons sty.  And their grudges can last for centuries.”

Hizashi deflated even further at that.  “H—how do you make it up to them?”

“You don’t.”  Shouta said simply.  He made for the door and opened it. “And don’t go destroying my—our place.  It’s the only sanctuary I have.”

2.2

Hari found Kai in their Ilca dorms library.  Seeing various books stacked and open on the nine large tables, the Arepyiai inquired. “Something I can help you search for, Sir?”

“Just looking for adequate material for my pupil to read.”  Kai muttered without looking up for the tome his was skimming.

“The Foundling?”

“Teris. She has a name, Hari.  And seems proud enough to demand its use.” Kai finished, softly.

Though the Dragons last words were meant for himself, Hari’s keen ears heard them.  The Spirit raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t think you would take Nedzu’s assignment so seriously.”

“How so?”

“With as busy as you are, I thought you would pass her instruction on to one of the others.”

Kai snapped the book shut.  “Would you like to instruct the Beast on the way of things?”

There was something almost possessive in Kai’s gold eyes.  Hari found his own gray gaze, lowering.  “I live to serve.”

At the proper response, Kai’s expression eased.  “The Rat would hear about it if I pushed his tiresome task off on someone else.  Nedzu’s already watchful enough.  I’d rather not give him further excuse to stick his nose in my affairs.  Besides, the aura of Teris’ power was... ancient.”  He paused, remembering the tug of hope he had felt for a brief moment.  The split second thought that he wasn’t alone.  That another dragon had been found.  A queen to rule at his side and help see his plans come to fruition.  Kai shook away the memory and put the book in the maybe pile.  “Who knows. Depending on what her species turns out to be, she might be found worthy of becoming a follower.  But that would first require proper instruction.”

Hari nodded.

Dismissing the Arepyiai with a wave, Kai ordered.  “Just be sure to tell the Ilca to be mindful during the day.  Having her around will be a bit of an inconvenience.  But it might be worth it.”

2.3

Shouta landed on the large balcony outside his quarters.  Though there were luscious plants and a soothing fountain, the terrace was more than just some pretty place to sit and look at.  It’s main purpose was as launching post, or in this case a landing pad for large fliers.

Though the place was littered with seating areas and clumping sections of green, there was just enough space for him to land comfortably while in his true form.  He had tried clearing out the space of its fountain and plants.  But Twice’s wrath wasn’t worth the headache, and so he had left it.  So long as he didn’t have to tend to the flora he didn’t really care.  If he were honest, it was nice to look at.  Not that he ever had the time to do so.

The Sphinx stretched out his dabbled grey and black wings and shook out his wavy, black mane relishing these last few moments of being in his true form.  It confounded how everyone else seemed perfectly happy to keep to their human forms.  It made him wonder if no one else felt like they were breathing through a heavy mask.

For Shouta, it felt as if the world was seen through a too small window while in human form.  As if he were touching things through a thick gloved hand.  He wondered if maybe that was part of the reason for Bakugou's constant outbursts.  That, like him, the Basilisk didn’t care for his human form.  Only with Bakugou being younger and of a more volatile species, the Basilisk reacted by taking the dissociative discomfort out on those around him.

It wasn’t that Shouta didn’t appreciated the distinct abilities that came with being in human form; but those abilities could often feel minute when he was forced to spend roughly ninety percent of his day, everyday, in what felt like thick gelatin.

Sighing he returned to his human form, hands opening and closing, missing his claws.  He opened the door and entered, already half asleep.  Mind focused on the single thought of bed he didn’t fully register the warm, sweet scent that greeted him upon entering.  Only that the smell was nice.  Comforting.

The large, hard, cold bed pulled him toward it like a gravitational force.  Uncaring about his clothes, Shouta fell face first into the warm, soft mattress.  Wait.  Warm?  Soft?

The soft, warmth moved and started to rise beneath him.  Shouta's head pulled off the plush pillow.  His hand pushed the warm, soft back down.

“Lights!”

At the same time a female voice cried out.  “Twice!”

This was the second time Teris had banished his foggy, exhaustion and got his blood pumping.  Laying on top of her, Shouta realized that the pillow his face had been buried had been her breasts.  His blood heated, pumping all the harder.  Hand on one of the perfect, soft twin mounds, he squeezed ever so slightly.

Teris’ eyes dart from the Sphinx’s groping hand to his handsome-- No!  Not handsome, face.  “Do you mind?”

The sharp, sternness of her voice pulled Shouta's eyes up from the breast his hand was on.  It really was a beautifully formed tit.  Too bad it was attached to an ill tempered, bothersome woman who shouldn’t be in his bed.

“Not all.”  Shouta’s hand gave another squeeze, this one firmer.  He heard her breath catch.  Felt her nipple harden against his palm.  He smirked, voice dropping an octave.  “Clearly you don’t either.”

“Off! Get off!”  Teris shoved him.

Shouta didn’t budge, arrogantly showing his power over her.  With one last gentle squeeze he knelt up and got out of bed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?  And where’s Twice?  Twice!”

Shouta shook his head.  She would wake up all of Traverseen Hall crying out like a Banshee.  “The House Elf isn’t allow in my quarters while I’m here.”

“You—You’re quarters?”

Shouta's eyes narrowed.  Was it the lighting and his exhaustion?  Or had there be a slight physical sharpening of her features?  “That’s right. Could you not tell this room was taken?”

Hugging the blanket to her chest, Teris looked about the space exasperated. “How, Aizawa?  How was I suppose to tell?  There’s nothing in here but limited furnishings.  Not an ounce of anything personal. It’s not like the door had your name on it.”

She realized with a start that the smell.  The warm and comforting scent should have been a clue.  The other chambers she checked out hadn’t had that distinct, somewhat earthy musk.  Her eyes widened as she realized the scent was purely Aizawa’s and hated herself for having liked it.

Cheeks colored in angry embarrassment, Teris tripped out of bed.  “This is your fault.”

“My fault?  How so?”  Shouta crossed his arms, both annoyed and amused.

“You should've stuck around.”

“Forgive me, Princess.  I have a job to do.  Two in fact.  Babysitting you wasn’t something I signed up for.  I don’t know what it was like before you were found but I’m not here to serve and cater to your whims.”

Teris glared.

Shouta stared.  There it was again.  The barest sharpening of her features that looked almost bird-like.  The world around them faded as his mind worked furiously.  A feeling of awe and foreboding grew deep in his chest.

She was a pack beast.  Had clearly claimed Hizashi as a member of her pack.  Prideful.  Jealousy protective of what she had claimed.  Her power had an ancient aura.  And Twice…  Twice called her Mistress. What had Traverseen Hall originally been before it was a school and home of the area Ilca?  That’s right. Before the Fall of Crowns that saw the end of the Dragon-Griffon War.  Traverseen Hall had been the home of a griffon pride.  Built long before the Dragon-Griffon War for one of the oldest, proudest griffon prides there ever was.

[heckinhacker]

Blood Moon!Aatrox x Demon!S/O - Insane between crazy.

word count: 1,608 requested: Yes!  - By Anonymous: “ Can I ask for Blood moon Aatrox fanfic plz? When he met the demon s/o but they're different from the other demons because instead of killing mortals, they tried to save them plz. “ warnings: Curses, violence, Aatrox being Aatrox. 

 You were standing on the podium, your arms raised to red as blood heaven, shouting at your own kind.

“And WHY do we have to sacrifice human lives for our own sake? Why is it everything about bloodshed?! Humans aren’t bad, they’re innocent, they can do no harm to us, so why do we kill them like animals?! They’re just like us - NO. They’re even better. THEY have emotions, they can be reasoned with, they connect with each other and we only have ability to think, but what do we get from thinking when we don’t use it! Everything we do is just kill, stab, get those guts out and make a new scarf, this is stupid!” 

You preached, you shouted to heavens and other demons looking at you like you’d lost your mind. There was solid moment of silence, before you heard this hoarse laugh. Pyke. It’s almost always Pyke. After his laugh which usually makes you go insane, every other demon burst in mad laughs too. Even The Kalista, this smart Kalista. You felt disappointment rise in your chest. You really wanted to hide right now. Somewhere, anywhere. You jumped off of podium and tried to fast-walk out of there. With no luck, of course, demons are really, really...jackasses. 

Thresh stood in your way, his mask and “hair” floating above you. You furrowed your eyebrows behind your mask. - What was that, [y/n]? I couldn’t quite understand because of your whines, you weren’t clear enough! - Right. You’re sure it’s because of me? You forgot your head from home, maybe that’s why.

Thresh’s red flame erupted around, eye-holes of floating mask filled with red light. Well, someone can’t handle being roasted. Thresh aimed his hook pretty quickly to your direction, but you gracefully jumped away, huffing. You wouldn’t like to fight with this sadist not now nor anytime, it’s better to flee and wait until  he calms down. You heard behind you screams of Thresh and louder talks of other demons. They’re stupid. Too stupid to understand. They never get through they thin skulls that thanks to people they exist. Kinda. God knows about “The First One”. Does he even exist? The progenitor every human and demon fear, The first demon ever who landed his feet on human’s ground. Funny. He sounds like some kind of “Adam and Eve” from human’s religion, like, you know? “The first one” ! But he’s alone, and he was made by blood moon itself. If he’d only show up...anywhere. Not like It’d be a good thing for you. We all can imagine he’d be an ass too, like everyone else was. 

The plan for the rest of the day was to lay down on some tree and take a nap, maybe find some animals to play around with, then wait ‘till the night when the monsters go apeshit. You just climbed up, took mask off so it covers only your eyes and managed to close them to rest, but then, loud explosion, maniacal laughs, terrorizing screams of your beloved mortals. No, not that again. You groaned, fixing your mask and jumping down to run to the village. Why are they on the streak again? Do they ever fucking rest?? You were there almost immediately, trying to protect the defenseless. Good thing your fighting weapon was shield. You did as much as you could, but little did you know - Aatrox was there.

You pushed Talon away from this poor man who had pass out from fear, shouting at him to ‘fucking stop’. When Talon wanted to jump up with a dangerous growl, Aatrox shouted with this demonic, echoed like by some other dimension voice who scared everyone around.”ENOUGH.” You, demons, people who tried to run away but fell down because they knees got weak because of terrifying shout that pierced their souls and minds. Your shield was dropped to the ground as you looked at this tall form of majestic horror in human representation. He was The Progenitor, The First One, That demon from which everything started. You gulped loudly, and he stared directly at you, his eyebrows furrowed. He’s a born leader, general of darkspawn army, leading for mortal’s extinction. - I… - What does you attitude mean? You’re not even that old demon. What were you thinking? - I just… - Enough of this nonsense. I’ll teach you a lesson, novice, while others can- - N-no, they cannot. - Can you repeat yourself? - They just can’t! CAN’T! - you shouted, looking amazingly dangerous while bending down to get your shield and furiously tap it with your little sword you promised never to use. - I won’t let this madness continue, no more! Aatrox threw his sword aside, which created thud way louder it should be. You could promise ground had shaken at this exact moment this enormous peace of ancient iron and brutally murdered souls had fallen down. He makes few steps towards you, you don’t move even inch, only take deep breaths. He brutally rips your mask off to look at your countenance. He squeezed your cheeks with one hand without problem, your faces way too close, your foreheads touching. - Do you still have courage to open your filthy, pathetic mouth? - I. Am. NOT. Afraid. Of. You. You didn’t even stutter, twitch, anything. This demon was not afraid, the youngest demon known was not shaken by mighty Aatrox. He was, indeed, surprised. How could you. How could you DARE to talk back to him. He was now holding you up by your throat. Even though you were already dead, you could feel suffocation. Your little coughs and struggling looked entertaining for other demons, but Aatrox told them off with one single glare. They vanished as soon as they appeared. - Apologise. - Not...in this...afterlife…- you coughed furiously. - and not...in the next...weakling…

Aatrox threw you like a ragdoll across empty field, your flight was over when you hit the wall, making deep hole in it. You-shaped hole. He approached you, took up his sword and looked down at you, like you were some bug. He put his surely oversized foot on your shoulder, pushing you deeper into building’s wall. - You’re brave. I like that. I expect more submissiveness next time, but consider yourself lucky. Now perish. - he threw you your mask back.

No matter how much you wanted to snark back some backfire, but only bit your bottom lip, stood up slowly and went away, limping. 

Aatrox would lie if he’d say he didn’t picked up any interest in you. Furthermore, he was thinking about you. He had no clue what has gotten into him, but it annoys the fuck out of him. Your pathetic face when he was choking you, desperate gasp after you were released, hateful look you shot at him when he stepped on your shoulder. The thought of this image sent shiver down his spine, he purely hated that. With passion. He decides to see your unmasked face again, to fight his own thoughts. To fight himself. He can prove he’s more than some human attachment. 

He got up, fixed his clothes, tightened up his man-bun and went off to the hardest war he had ahead of himself.

You can sense his presence right away, so his big figure heading to you was really no surprising, his aura was strong and steps pretty loud. He draws his sword in front of your face and you raise your eyebrow in amusement, as he demands the fight. - Draw your weapon. - Why…? - It’s a war, [y/n]. There’s no turning back. - Why would I start the fight I’ll for sure lose? But he forces you to take up your shield to protect yourself from his strong swing with the sword which is probably heavier than you with your shield in hand. You block the attack, pushing him back slightly, groaning. You feel the vibration off that hit in your bone, unpleasant feeling. You are angry at this moment, grabbing your little sword into your second hand. Not like it’ll help much against gigantic sword, but well, you didn’t thought straight. It’s like...you are against demon’s nature, but you’re one anyway, you have something from them, and anger had blinded your common sense. Aatrox was the first one even in this case. He was the first to trigger your demon nature. 

You charged at gigantic monster with such force he lost his balance for a moment, but helped himself with his sword. You use that moment to try and stab him under his ribs, but he kicks you so hard you fall back with loud thud. He takes a deep breath, rushes to you and kicks off your shield. After that, he steps on  your wrist, forcing you to drop this imitation of a sword. He throws his weapon away, kneels down, grabs your collar and kisses you forcefully. There was no hint of gentleness or pureness. It was pure - pure wildness and domination. You gasp in surprise, trying to kick him off or push him away, but there’s no use of that.

No matter how much you try to fight it, he kisses pretty damn well. You finally give up, closing your eyes and reciprocate the passion he somehow shared with you. When you were over - not because of breath loss - he looked at you, his eyes not full of aggression or fighting spirit. They were...as normal as they could be, not fully but had that hint of something else.

“I lost the war between us. I lost with the insane between crazy.”

[thedazedyouth]

It’s You Who Hung The Moon 4

This is just the prologue

There are many kinds of fear, Trevor learned this the hard way.

The fear he felt sleeping on the streets for the first time was suffocating, freezing his body in place. The fear when he was far too young to be alone and a strange man followed him down a dark alleyway was empowering, pushing him to fight and leaving his mind no time to think, only act. And the fear of being kidnapped, left disoriented and alone made him cautious, sure to never repeat the same actions that landed him there.

But this kind of fear. . . this fear was reserved for completely powerless moments.

A kind of fear he hadn’t felt for years.

Until he met a hitman that was too trusting and somehow not trusting enough. Until he and Alfredo Diaz were separated from each other’s side for the first time in days, and left in the hands of a man that wanted them both dead. Trevor felt that pounding fear slither across his chest and tangle itself in his brain.

Trevor sat on the damp and cold ground, hands tied behind him and a blindfold placed over his eyes.

He was alone.

He didn’t know where Alfredo was.

And he was scared.

This wasn’t apart of his plan. Trevor didn’t predict this outcome. They were supposed to be together, captured yes, but able to fight together; but Sparks had put them in different cars with no way of knowing if the other followed. Alfredo might not even be alive, butchered as soon as they got Trevor.

It would’ve been his own arrogance that got Fredo killed.

Trevor sat there for roughly an hour, drowning in his guilt before he heard someone enter.

“Oh, how the mighty fall.”

Trevor could hear the smugness in Sparks’ tone, and practically snarled in response. Although he was blinded, Trevor wanted to test his luck against the man; but he was learning not to underestimate Sparks. Trevor needed to know where Alfredo was, if he was still alive; but couldn’t show the clear attachment.

“Just wait, Caden,” Trevor said, smoothing his emotions into a cocky attitude. “The Fakes don’t take it lightly when someone kidnaps one of their own.”

Despite his warning to the crew, Trevor still had hope that someone, anyone, had noticed something, heard even a small rumor that would alert them to his predicament.

Sparks chuckled. “Really? Well, last time I checked they were a bit preoccupied with the Vultures and haven’t even noticed your absence.”

So now they decide to listen to me? Trevor couldn’t blame the crew though. The deal was more important than pretending the Fakes would even know where to start looking for him, more important than even bothering to find him. He understood completely. Probably would’ve yelled at them if they did drop everything.

“Oh, and before you try anything,” Sparks said, “Mr Diaz will be the one to pay for it.”

Trevor never liked religion, couldn’t get behind it, but thanked every god he could name. At least Alfredo was alive, there wasn’t much Trevor could ask for.

While now he had reason to fight, something to push through the fear with, Trevor still couldn’t move. Not with Alfredo on the line. Trevor would never do anything to intentionally hurt him; although it was his dumb plan that put them in this situation. Trevor had spent too long trying to help him, he wouldn’t throw it all away. If they lived through this, Trevor would be sure to apologise for all the risks.

So he waited.

“Is that all you wanted, Caden? To gloat and make threats?” Trevor asked. He still couldn’t figure out Sparks’ plan.

If Trevor died, then the Fakes would be sent into a fury, a cold and calculated attack that would reduce Sparks and his crew into nothing but ashes. They wouldn’t unravel, wouldn’t turn into anything less than the sadistic, mad men and women they were known to be. Trevor trusted that much to be true; but he also trusted that he wasn’t the right person to target if complete chaos was wanted.

“No, Mr Collins,” Sparks said. “I want so much more. While your crew hasn’t noticed your capture yet, they will very quickly realise their mistake in leaving you alone.”

Sparks paced, walking in circles around Trevor; who despite the blindfold was always acutely aware of his position. Even as Trevor’s mind raced through all the information he had, he still wasn’t able to understand anything Sparks was doing.

Trevor was worth so much less than anyone else in the Fakes.

Sparks sighed, deeply and clearly annoyed. “You don’t get it, do you Mr Collins? You’re worth more than you think.”

No, I know my worth and I’m perfectly okay with it.

Sparks left as suddenly as he entered, leaving Trevor to his thoughts again. He pushed away the voice that whispered just how worthless he was, everything he’d done that put him below human, with a promise to wallow in his self hatred later; and put his focus onto what was more important: Alfredo.

The fear that threatened to consume him had moulded into a burning rage, a fury that demanded revenge to quench it.

Trevor knew exactly who Alfredo was; he had been the same person only a few years ago. He understood the loneliness that comes with survival, knows the struggle of trusting and opening up after a lifetime of reason not to. And he knew where Alfredo was heading.

That is, if Trevor hadn’t stepped in.

The Fakes joined Trevor’s life too late, yet still when he was reparable. They couldn’t save him from every horror, but they found his broken pieces and held them while he slowly put himself back together; although one or two pieces may forever be missing, he was still more whole than before.

And Trevor knew it wouldn’t take Alfredo long before he was a shattered remain of who he once was. Even if Trevor didn’t fully believe that he would be the one to help Fredo, he would at least start the process.

That’s why he jumped in to save Alfredo from Sparks only a few days ago. A glint in the sniper’s eyes was enough to let Trevor know. From then, every action Alfredo made reminded Trevor of himself; drawing away to stitch his own wounds, keeping a clear exit in sight, but once that guard was dropped, they both became different people.

Trevor wouldn’t be himself if the Fakes hadn’t scooped him from the streets, and he wanted to do the same thing for Alfredo. Give him the idea of home, of a family, and let him choose to save himself. It wouldn’t have been fair to let Fredo rot in the Los Santos streets, everyone deserves to be redeemed, and Trevor would be damned if he took that away from Alfredo.

He didn’t have much time to brood.

Sparks only left ten minutes ago, but it had to be him that entered again. And when Trevor listened, he wasn’t alone.

There was someone scuffling against the ground, fighting and struggling against every step. Trevor let his head roll back and didn’t fight the smile when the person spoke.

“Get your fucking hands off me.” Alfredo fought against the men that half carried-half pushed him into the room with Trevor.

The blindfold was removed, and after adjusting to the sudden change of light, Trevor finally saw Alfredo again. He was relatively unhurt, just a couple bruises littered his face and a hardened glare. But his eyes softened the moment they landed on Trevor, his expression relaxing only for a second before he eyed Sparks.

“I thought I’d be generous, let you two see each other one last time before I kill you,” Sparks said.

Alfredo was thrown onto the ground just a few meters away from Trevor, who resisted the urge the move closer. They both kept their gaze forward, to Sparks instead of each other.

Sparks paced in front of them, rolling up his sleeves and grinning like he’d won the lottery. “You won’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do this. But know this, it ain’t gonna be pretty. I want to make a statement with you, Mr Collins,” he said. “Something no one will forget.”

Threats didn’t cause any fear in Trevor anymore, but what did was the panic that warped Alfredo’s face.

The first punch came without warning, Sparks’ fist connecting with Trevor’s nose with a familiar crack. He barely noticed the warm blood trickle onto his chin; Sparks struck again, and again, and again.

After one particularly hard punch, Trevor found himself staring at Alfredo as he attempted to regain his senses; but between the stinging pain and Fredo’s worried face, Trevor couldn’t think about anything else. Couldn’t figure out a plan to get them both out safe, couldn’t even think of anything to say to possibly stall Sparks.

He might have said that out loud, that or Alfredo read his mind; either way, Trevor realised he wasn’t alone.

Somewhere along the way he had forgotten that Alfredo was living a life similar to his, and that meant that the sniper was a much better fighter than any random civilian.

Alfredo charged Sparks, slamming his body into the side of his; sending them both tumbling to the ground.

A hand gun slipped from Sparks’ waistband as he collided with the floor. With Alfredo in a different kind of danger, Trevor worked fast. His hands slide from their binds, like he desperately wanted to do an hour ago. Trevor moved for the gun; barely registering what he’s doing as he shot the few lackeys standing guard.

He turned, looking for Sparks but froze just before pulling the trigger. His scuffle with Alfredo ended with a knife to the latter’s throat. They were only a few steps away.

Trevor almost smiled at the blood dripping from Sparks’ nose, like his own wound, and the blood that was wiped on Alfredo’s forehead. At least he had gotten a few solid hits in, Trevor felt his heart swell with pride.

Sparks wasn’t feeling the same joy, he pushed the edge of the knife deeper into Alfredo’s skin; not hard enough to break it but it served as a warning enough.

“Drop the gun, or he gets it,” Sparks hissed.

Sparks had wisely positioned his body almost directly behind Alfredo’s; who seemed unfazed by the ordeal. He kept his gaze on Trevor, don’t do it, I’m not worth it. He knew Trevor could hear his silent plea, but just hoped he’d actually listen to it.

Trevor’s heart beat just a little bit faster when he understood what Fredo wanted.

“What do you want, Caden?” Trevor asked, c’mon think of something. “Money? Power? Killing me, killing Alfredo won’t get you that.”

Trevor knew it was stupid to give Sparks time, knew that the longer he stayed, the less chance he’d have at getting out. But right then, he didn’t know what else to do.

He might be able to shoot Sparks, but the only open area was his head, and he’d end up deafening Alfredo if he even made it.

Sparks laughed. “Well, he,” Sparks pushed the knife deeper, “is going to die because he failed me. And like I said, you are worth more than you think.”

Trevor had an idea. As subtle as he could, he made a few gestures and prayed that Alfredo could read him just as well. Fredo seemed to get the gist of it, his hand hung low as he counted using his fingers.

On three, Alfredo moved his body to the side, ignoring the knife nicking his neck.

Trevor fired.

Sparks howled in pain as the bullet ripped through his shoulder, and howled again when Alfredo brought his head back against his already damaged nose.

Trevor fired, but the chamber was empty. He tried again, but nothing. He knew instantly that the single bullet would’ve been used on Alfredo, shot in front of Trevor before he was likely beaten to death.

Trevor and Alfredo ran.

They were sprinting out the door before Sparks had a moment to react. They were let out into a white hallway, it twisted at either end with no clear sign of where they went.

Trevor took a second to think, before choosing left and taking off at full speed once he knew Alfredo was following him. He expected to run into some guards, run into anyone else, but the compound was empty. The only sound was their feet slapping against the tiled ground, and Sparks yelling in anger.

The hallway twisted again, taking them right. There was no windows, no way of knowing where they were, only closed doors spread out.

They were at a disadvantage, Trevor knew it, Sparks would have more knowledge of the layout of the place with they were running blind. They needed to regroup, plan their attack.

So without warning Trevor slowed, Alfredo almost slamming into his back, and attempted to open one of the doors. The third one he tried was unlocked, and they quickly entered, shutting it gently behind them to not alert anyone who might be around. It was a small storage closet but was good enough for a breather.

“So. . .,” Trevor started but found that no words would come. It seemed that in the presence of Alfredo, Trevor’s poisoned dagger of a tongue refused to work.

Fortunately, Trevor didn’t have that effect on Alfredo.  

“How bad is it?” Alfredo gestured to his face and shoulder, the stab wound would not go unacknowledged by him.

Trevor tried to smile, tried to play it off but Alfredo’s hardened stare killed any lie before he could speak them into existence.

He breathed in deeply. “Face hurts a shit ton, nose is broken but nothing that would slow us down. My shoulder is killing me though, running just made it worse.”

Trevor was rarely that honest that quickly. It was a shared trait in the Fake AH Crew to cover injuries, even though everyone else would yell at anyone who tried it; they’re all a bunch of hypocrites.

Alfredo nodded. “Yeah, okay. Look, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to just run away from this. We gotta end this.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

~

Trevor followed Alfredo through the building, keeping pace with a small jog; just slow enough so his shoulder didn’t burn too much but fast enough so they made progress.

The whole building was mostly empty, in the whole five minutes they crept around they only ran into two people; both alone and too easy to take down, even in their injured states. It seemed that Sparks was all bark and no bite. Alfredo and Trevor were both armed now, it didn’t take much to scare one of the guards into showing them the armory; because of course Sparks had a whole armory.

With plenty of ammo and an assortment of weapons between them, Alfredo and Trevor looked for Sparks.

But there was never a change in the building, never a new colour wall or door, never even a sign pointing somewhere; and it was hard to believe that they were going anywhere and not running up and down that same hallway.

Finally, there was something, an indication that they were in fact moving.

They approached a door slowly, Alfredo leading them towards the grey metal door that stood out against the white walls and doors. Fredo counted silently again, on three Trevor ripped open the door, while Alfredo looked for enemies.

It was a plane hangar that they entered, a big one. It turned out that Alfredo and Trevor were a level up; despite never seeing a staircase or elevator in the building. But they stood on a platform that circled around the walls of the hanger, a staircase to their right.

They ducked immediately, thankful for the boards covering the railing so that when they peered over top, only the tips of their heads would be seen.

Down below stood Sparks and a couple dozen men armed to the teeth. In small groups, the pair could easily take them down; but so many would be a challenge. It wouldn’t be enough to deter them, though.

No, it had to end right there, right then.

A silent agreement passed between Alfredo and Trevor, whatever this was, it was fun.

There was no need for a plan, no time for words; they went in guns blazing and hoped to see each other at the end of it.

[saltpepperbeard]

Begin Again ~A Joshifer One-Shot~

A/N: Well hello everyone! Been some time since I’ve talked to you all through an author’s note, hasn’t it? Don’t worry, I’m just as surprised as you are lol. Yes yes, I know Joshifer has become quite the irrelevant ship lately, with hardly anything going on anymore. But every time I come back to Tumblr, I always somehow manage to get a bit of that shipping spark rekindled. And I guess lately, the spark was so strong that an entire fanfiction came out of it lol!

Fanfiction has always been my way of dealing with things/interpreting real life events differently. With that being said, this is kind of my take on what could be happening behind the scenes. Yes yes naysayers, it’s unlikely, but I absolutely adore exploring the big “WHAT IF” lol.

So after a literal...what has it been, two year gap? I decided to go and get very trashy again! And I do hope you’ll give this a read, even after all this time. I’m dragging as many of you down into the dumpster with me again as I can lol! I hope you all enjoy it, and you’ll have to excuse any errors; I tried to do a typo sweep but I’m also really eager to just get this out for everyone!

Disclaimer: This fic contains mature themes such as strong language and sensuality.

And without further adooooooo....

Begin Again

It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since I traversed these shores, since I created unforgettable memories, since I established relationships I thought would stand the test of time. But just like the sand beneath my feet being carried by each passing wave, I guess everything gets swept away eventually.

A heavy sigh passes through my nose, coupled with a bitter sweet smile playing across my features. Now I know why I never ventured back to this beach, despite staying in Oahu numerous times. It’s just a little too damn nostalgic- dare I say depressing, even. It’s almost like new memories flood in with every passing step.

I can almost hear the voices of the production crew talking and laughing against the waves, the atmosphere of filming a movie still lingering from many years ago. I can picture sitting in the warm Hawaiian sun with my fellow cast mates, taking breaks and cracking jokes between takes. And of course, I can practically see my best friends sitting beside me, constantly laughing and furthering what I thought would be an unbreakable bond.

I guess time has a way of changing things.

The now-emptiness of the beach is a rather painful reminder of the direction things have gone, everyone going their separate ways. We all tried to keep in touch. We really did. But the industry was a roaring wave that crashed around us, and prevented us from communicating well. What went from texts and calls multiple times a week quickly dwindled to a few times per month. And it’s gotten even more sporadic sense then.

I kick the sand with a foot, sighing as I feel my heart sinking deeper into my chest. It never really occurred to me how much I actually miss everyone. But I do. I miss working with them. I miss being with them. I miss everything we had going.

A rogue thought, a triggering memory, begins to snake around me like a piece of damp seaweed, and I attempt to brush it off as I continue my literal walk down memory lane. It grips tighter and tighter however, threatening to completely overtake my subconscious the further I stroll down the soft white sands.

I grit my teeth and give my head a shake, attempting to literally rattle the images out of my head. Maybe it was sadistic of me to come out here. I knew damn well it was going to open up a plethora of memories. And yet I felt some kind of strange urge, some kind of draw to walk down memory lane again. It’s not so much thinking about filming that hurts though. It’s...

I shut my eyes tightly, bringing both hands up to brush backwards against my head. I can start to hear a twinkling, unmistakable laugh on the breeze. I can start to smell a scent that makes me at home amidst the salty air. I can start to feel warm hands on my shoulders, rivaling that of sun above.

Jesus Christ.

“Sad, Josh. Real sad.”

Why the hell did I come out here. I haven’t thought about her that way in months, years. I’ve attempted to move on from her, to push everything about her to the back of my brain. And here I am instantly dredging it all up again.

“No. I’m over her. I’m over her, I’m over her, I’m over her...”

I internally repeat the saying as a mantra, a constant stream of words to hopefully override the trespassing thoughts and feelings. Because I am. What she and I had died years ago. She and I have gone down our own paths like everyone else. Sure, we might have had something almost going at a point, but not anymore. She chose her own way of life, and I chose mine.

Definitely over her.

Fuck, I really need to get off this beach. It’s like some sort of sick rip current, pulling me back into the mindset I had years ago. It’s replacing all the steps I’ve taken forward with a good ten or so steps back. It’s reverting me right back to the lovesick, desperate persona I tried so hard to rid myself of on countless occasions.

My jaw clenches tightly, an outward sign of the emotions building up within me. God, I swear, she’s like a drug to me. I know thinking about her now doesn’t do me any good. I know there’s nothing really I can do about our current relationship. But that never really seems to put a permanent stop to her repeatedly nudging her way back into my life again.

It probably doesn’t help that I’m walking the same shores where my feelings really peaked for her. This is where I felt something intense for her so long ago, something I truthfully haven’t felt with anyone else, something that’s always made me feel guilty in the relationships that followed. I think that’s why she’s so incredibly hard to shake, so incredibly hard to fully rid myself of.

Because she was like...a part of me back then. She awakened a part of me I didn’t even realize I had. And I suppose once we established that deep of a connection, once we gave each other our everything, there was no erasing it. She placed a piece of herself in the inner most part of my heart.

I suddenly snap myself out of it with a hard sigh, grinding my teeth together as the pain peaks and wanes. How sadistic must I be to continue standing out here when I know damn well what the consequences are. I came to Oahu to relax like I always do. I didn’t come out here to leave feeling worse than when I arrived.

Finally, I get some semblance of self-control back, and with one last look towards the old stomping grounds, I start back towards the semi-hidden path to get off the beach. But Jesus, it’s like the place is one side of a magnet with myself as the other, because it tugs me back with a beckoning call on the wind...Something that eerily sounds just like...

“........Josh?”

I stop short and whip my head from side to side. Nothing but the sand and sea on either side, with the dense Hawaiian forest before me. I conclude that I must really be losing my mind, and with a hard blink, I pick up my pace to walk away.

“Josh...”

There it is again, this time more distinguishable, and all too familiar. It’s enough to roll a shudder down my spine, and almost enough to draw moisture into my eyes. Yeah no, I definitely don’t need my brain playing this severe of tricks on me. It’s a signal to leave and not return for a long time. But every inch of my body, every ounce of my soul, halts completely at the clarity, the urgency, the unmistakable tone that floods my ears.

“Joshua.”

It’s firm. It’s confused. It’s impossible to ignore. It’s beautiful. It’s-

Turning slowly around almost causes me to white out, what with my heart stopping and restarting itself numerous times in my chest.

It’s real.

I stand there, completely frozen, completely agape, still trying to process what I’m seeing. There still might be the chance that this is all some sort of stupid hallucination, some sort of withdrawal type thing. But then I’m meeting her eyes, looking into a deep blue ocean that makes me completely forget about the one beside us. And the teary relief that spreads across her face is so genuine, so wonderful, that I feel myself breaking down all over again.

“Oh, Joshy...It’s...really you...”

I feel like everything moves in both slow and fast motion. I feel like I still can’t keep up with what’s happening right now. I feel like I’m making this all up to cope, or dreaming, or just going fucking crazy. But all of a sudden, my whole body lights ablaze with reality as she slips herself into my arms, slips herself back into my life.

She’s real.

I don’t even know what to do. I don’t know how to react. I’m an absolute statue as the hesitance in her movements dissipates and melts into what used to be our usual embrace, her arms wrapping around my neck and her face nestling into my shoulder. Despite this, I’m still frozen, my arms two lead weights against my side as I continue to catch up with the unfolding events. But, in her typical fashion, she nudges me along and further convinces me that yes, this is actually happening.

“Hug me back, you fucker...”

I somehow manage to breathe again, and I also manage to lift my arms up to slowly complete the embrace. 

“Over her” my ass. Because the second I’m hugging her, the second I’m pulling her against me, I never want to let her go ever again. The walls I had taken years to build up, brick by brick, instantly come crashing down as the wave that is Jennifer rushes forth.

I don’t say anything back to her retort. I don’t say anything at all. I simply take a moment to silently re-familiarize myself with everything about her, everything I’ve missed so terribly without fully admitting it to myself. The way her body conforms perfectly to mine. The way she fits into my arms like just the right puzzle piece. The softness of her scent. The tickling warmth of her breaths against my skin.

God, I’m weak. I’m so incredibly weak. And it’s what’s gotten me into trouble all these years. She’s like something of a kryptonite.

I can feel her exhalations getting shaky, and I’m not sure if she’s going to cry or say something. But for what’s probably the first time in her life, she stays quiet too. We simply hold each other, silently making up for all the time that’s passed, all the hugs that could have been.

I can’t help myself. I’m at probably my absolute weakest. So I gently thread my fingers through her luscious hair, holding her even closer as I lean my head against hers. Again, I’m met with a shivering exhale, and I begin to wonder what she’s making of the whole thing.

For once though, I brush the inquiry away. For once, I don’t even attempt to read her mind. Because honestly, what are the chances of me running into Jennifer fucking Lawrence on the exact same beach we used to film on, the exact same beach that, perhaps permanently, brought us together. It has to be some type of fate or something.

A rogue wave washes high up the beach, striking our legs and pulling me back down to Earth. Come to think of it...how the hell did we both end up here together? I was just visiting Oahu by chance on a personal getaway. I know Jen visits on the occasion as well, but we haven’t been here together since...

I begin to pull back from our hug to properly talk to her, to get a good look at her. After one last tight squeeze, she slowly follows my lead, and we reveal ourselves to each other in the shimmering Hawaiian sunlight.

Instantly, it feels like my legs are going to give out. If one more wave comes by, I’m going to be a goner. Because Jen’s not standing before me- rather, a legitimate fucking angel is. 

She’s just as stunning as I remember, if not more so. Her light blonde hair falls into flawless beachy waves against her shoulders. Her skin glistens like a diamond catching the sun’s rays. Her sapphire eyes carry the same beauty, the same warmth, the same allure that they always have. Though I had every intention to talk, I’m rendered absolutely speechless.

She must take notice, but she doesn’t help my case. Quite the opposite really, because she decides to grace me with her incredibly gorgeous smile, one that sinks my composure like a rock.

“Joshua Ryan,” she breathes, her smile growing even more if that’s even possible, “God, I can’t believe it’s you...What do you have to say for yourself after all this time?”

“I...”

My voice comes out in a harsh rasp, and I have to close my eyes as I attempt to channel any composure I can find.

“Jen...”

Her name still rolls beautifully off my tongue, despite it feeling so strange to say now. Though my tone is weak and cracking, my emotions strangling it off, I somehow press on with my question.

“How...the absolute fuck...”

“-are you here right now?” she butts in, boomeranging my query right back.

“I technically asked you first.”

Jennifer snorts, giving her eyes a quick roll, before she faithfully answers.

“Business I guess. Liz pointed me this direction and told me a potential gig might be coming my way. She didn’t really go into detail though.”

I furrow my brows, curiosity and confusion sweeping through me.

“A gig?”

“Yeah. I guess she wanted me to talk to someone out here and is keeping it a surprise.”

I can’t help but jump to conclusions at her words. Because the way she put it, it almost sounds like Liz wanted her to meet up with me. It seems like a load of bull, but then again, I did inform Melissa I was going to be leaving to Oahu for a few weeks...Do she and Liz even stay in contact? Could some sort of setup even be a possibility?

Before I can come up with further theories, Jen brings me back.

“How about you?”

“Oh, uh, I was just here on vacation I guess.”

As bold as ever, Jennifer raises an eyebrow and gives me a knowing look.

“A vacation away from a vacation?”

“Hey now,” I mutter, “You know I’ve been trying to do stuff. It just gets hard when I keep hitting all these slow spots.”

Jen’s face softens again, and she laughs her gorgeous staccato laugh before replying.

“I know. Don’t take it so personally, asshole.”

I give my eyes a roll; seems like she hasn’t changed much at all. Instead of poking and prodding at me further though, she asks me a question that has my heart skipping beats all over again.

“Why don’t you tell me everything that’s been going on with you?”

“I- Right now?” I sputter.

“Yes, you idiot,” she laughs incredulously, “Do you have anything going on?”

Even if I did, I certainly don’t anymore. I couldn’t even start to prioritize anything else on this island over a moment like this.

“Not...really no.”

“Perfect. Neither do I.”

We stare at each other for a moment more, and I have to clear my throat and look away before I get totally entranced by her.

“I uh...I have some towels and drinks back in my car if you want to sit out for a while?”

Jennifer lights up in a way that makes the sun look dark, her excitement so contagious I can’t help but grin at her.

“Yessss!” she squeals, “Spongy coming in clutch!”

I laugh, both at her and the ridiculousness of it all, before beckoning her to come back to the car with me. She eagerly follows, the two of us departing the beach and heading back on the heavily floral path. We walk for a moment in silence, but just like old times, it never lasts long.

“So okay, I know why you’re here on Oahu,” Jen starts,” But now it’s my turn to ask why the absolute fuck-”

“-You were on the Kawela Bay Beach?” I finish for her with a chuckle, using her same interrupting tactic from earlier.

She gives me that wonderful laugh of hers again, before composing herself to reply.

“Probably the same thing you were doing: reliving one of the better parts of my life I guess. Walking down memory lane. Whatever you want to call it. Definitely got way more nostalgic than I bargained for though.”

“Yeah,” I snort, “You can say that again!”

She giggles once more, before quieting down. Though I’m not looking at her, instead watching my footing to make sure I don’t trip on a lone root or something, I can practically feel the warmth of her stare as she gazes at me, causing a subsequent burn in my cheeks.

“What?” I press, feeling my skin reddening more by the second.

“Nothing,” she chuckles softly, “I just...cannot believe I’m here with you right now.”

“Welcome to my world,” I snort, “When I first heard and saw you, I thought I was majorly tripping balls.”

“Jesus,” she laughs, “Happen to have anything that could do that in your car?”

“Unfortunately not. But I think seeing one Jen after all this time is the most I can handle right now anyway.”

“You’re probably right.”

We share another round of mirth, and then it’s my turn to stare at her once more, my turn to really appreciate the fact that Jen is indeed here with me. She’s just...incredible; she trumps the island’s beauty by leaps and bounds. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, watching her hair and sundress flutter to match my heart in the gentle breeze...It’s all so much. It’s all some sort of crazy dream.

Thankfully, my waterfall of sentiments is capped by us reaching my car. I pop the trunk and grab supplies out of it, handing Jen a towel and pack of beer before picking up the same. We quickly make our way back to the beach, setting down the towels next to each other, before opening up both our drinks and our lives.

I guess she and I must have hit some kind of weird wall due to our careers, because now that we’re in person, it’s like we never even took a pause at all. We go straight back to our jokes, our teasing, our storytelling, catching each other up with one another’s nonsense and kicking back beneath the Hawaiian sun.

Jen of course complains about all the publicity shit she has to deal with on a near consistent basis, and I chide that it must be nice to have so many gigs. We playfully bicker for some time, before agreeing to switch lives when we head back home, laughing and drinking all the while.

We then go into even further detail, talking about things such as our families, our housing situation, our dogs...Everything literally under the sun. We go on for hours, going through a multitude of stories, along with a multitude of drinks.

By the time the sun has started to drift down into the waves, my throat is incredibly dry from talking so much, a contrast to the liquid confidence flowing through me. A couple of empty cases of drinks is further evidence to how much time and alcohol have passed, along with Jennifer leaning her head sloppily on my shoulder.

We’ve somehow managed to go quiet for a bit, simply basking in each other’s company and the orange glow of the retreating light. Thank God I can’t think entirely straight, or my mind would likely be ablaze with all sorts of infatuation towards the woman beside me, all sorts of thoughts that would likely intrude on the moment. Of course, I can leave it to Jen to pick up the ball.

“Joshy?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t we ever do this anymore,” she whines, her voice slightly coated with alcohol.

Though I know she isn’t thinking clearly either, and is spouting whatever comes to mind far more than usual, I cannot help but stiffen slightly. I cannot help but have a few, more negative thoughts creep into the picture. It’s a reality check of sorts I suppose, a break away from the gorgeous reverie this whole day has been. It’s a reminder that, despite us once being so close, being practically unbreakable, we did indeed end up going our separate ways.

“You know why.”

“Noooo...” she whines again, and I see her lip puff out in her platypus pout out of the corner of my eye.

“We both kind of went our own ways,” I murmur,” You know that. You’ve certainly been...keeping busy.”

“Yeah, with a bunch of fucking movie shit.”

“Among other things...”

Now it’s Jen’s turn to stiffen. I should have known she of all people would catch the deeper meaning behind my words, the unintentional jealously that slipped into my statement. Maybe that was partly what pushed me away from her, some kind of fucked up possessiveness as I watched her jump from guy to guy. She’s quick to check me though, shifting herself away from me and giving me an incredulous stare.

“Josh, don’t even give me that shit. Need I remind you that you have a girlfriend?”

I shudder at a multitude of things. The mere mentioning of Claudia, the fact that my heart was constantly going every which way during our relationship and could never settle itself, the fact that I was possessive over Jen despite us going our separate ways, the fact that Jen just recognized said bullshit...

I let out a long sigh. It was a mess. It was all an incredible mess. I definitely couldn’t keep kidding anyone though. I couldn’t fully commit no matter how hard I tried. Not with part of me permanently residing with someone else.

“...We broke up.”

Jen’s furrowed brows instantly lift, her expression shifting to that of softness and surprise.

“...What?”

“We broke up,” I say again, “About a year or so ago.”

I simply leave it at that. Because despite Jen and I having an amazing reunion today, I have no fucking clue where that puts us now. And I definitely don’t have any idea how she’s been feeling after all these years. I feel like we need to focus on the aspect of our friendship instead anyway rather than dredging up relationship things, no matter how pressing they are in my head.

“Oh...” Jen murmurs.

I expect her to bury me with more questions, to attempt to figure out the juicy details on why my past relationship didn’t work out. I expect her to drunkenly tease me about not being able to put out or some shit like that. I expect her to talk all sorts of shit as she does. But strangely enough, she simply leaves it at that, staring silently out at the ocean before us.

I gaze at her for a while, waiting for her to speak up once more, but she doesn’t. Puzzled, I shift myself to follow her stare, simply taking in the sights along with her. In the small respite, my mind begins to stumble through thoughts and memories. Sitting out here, watching the setting sun with her, takes me back to when we filmed the popular “Beach Kiss” scene. I remember how we were laughing so much and giving each other so much between takes, but in the moment, I remember just being...absolutely entranced with her. 

I remember her stealing the breath right out of my lungs. I remember her pulling me deep under her spell. I remember that very moment completely solidifying my feelings for her.

I remember that being the moment I realized I truly loved her.

A long sigh blows from pursed lips, and I look down at the last of my alcohol as I continue to reminisce. It’s strange how much that time practically parallels now when I think about it. The laughing and talking, followed by the more intense thoughts and bits of passion. We’re just missing one key piece, else we’d have it all over again.

“Kiss me.”

The drink I had started to take nearly comes out in a spray as I sputter back into the bottle, almost choking at the insane segway from Jennifer.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she murmurs, “Kiss me.”

My brain goes absolutely wild, trying to work through how the fuck she practically just read my thoughts a second ago. My first, and perhaps alcohol-ridden instinct, is to pounce on her and kiss her into the next day. The very idea of getting to taste her, feeling her flower petals of lips gliding through mine, sharing such a gorgeous, intimate moment with her that I’ve been craving since the day she first gave it to me...

I physically have to clench myself to ensure I don’t do anything rash, and instead attempt to tread as carefully through this as I can. I want it. I want her. God, I fucking want her so bad. But this same kind of thing...this same kind of thirst...It messed us up so bad so many years ago. It tore a rift between us, maybe one that eventually lead us to the distanced paths we took away from one another.

Regardless, it’d be amazing, so fucking amazing in the moment, but who knows what kind of further repercussions it could cause. I feel like I just now started to get Jen back as a friend. I don’t need to lose her yet again, maybe for even longer, simply because of a drunk slip-up.

“I, wh- Jen, you’re drunk.”

She lets out a stubborn, snorting laugh, placing her hands on her hips as she stares me down.

“And?”

“And you’re not in your head right now,” I reply gently, hesitantly, “I don’t...Want to do something we might...regret later.”

She looks at me for a moment, surprise and contemplation seeming to dance across her features. But suddenly, her face goes incredibly hard, and she gives a dramatic roll of her eyes before pouting back towards the ocean.

“Such fucking bullshit...” I hear her grumble, and my head spins as a result.

“Jen. What the hell are you on about?” I ask, completely beside myself.

“You cannot tell me you don’t want this too.”

It feels like the world stops as she calls my bluff yet again, this time perhaps the most painful instance yet. I have to ball my towel up into tight fists, inhaling calming breaths as my eyes shut her tightly away from view.

Because she’s right. She’s absolutely right. I definitely want nothing more than to completely ravage her, right here and now. But I can’t. We can’t. There’s no fucking way.

Also, though it’s likely just a product of her drunken state, what the hell is Jen thinking anyway? Is she mutual in sharing my thoughts and desires? Was she also thinking back to our Catching Fire days? Has she also been missing me the same way I’ve been missing her?

It’s all such a crazy enigma, and I don’t believe it’s best to solve it by giving into each other. Didn’t help our case last time, that’s for sure.

“I...Jennifer, we haven’t seen each other in so fucking long,” I begin, attempting to go down the most reasonable route, “We barely even talk anymore. Hell, there were times I was questioning if we were even still friends or not. I feel like this is the first time I’ve really talked to you in years. So you can’t expect me to want to complicate everything all over again. I can’t do that.”

I brace myself for her to fire things at me in return. I brace myself for her to pressure me further and push me to the brink of giving in. So I’m incredibly surprised when I’m met with the crash of the waves and nothing more.

I chance a look at her, and find that she’s rested her head on her bent legs, staring out over the water again with an unreadable expression painted across her face. As I stare, the setting sun strikes her in such a way that makes her absolutely glow, like some sort of spotlight that’s directing me to her. She’s ablaze with beauty, matching the quickly intensifying fire in my heart.

Catching Fire again indeed, because just like last time, the fires within us grow to meet each other, dancing in perfect synchronization. Just like last time, everything points for us to proceed despite all other signs not to do so. Just like last time, every fucking ounce of composure, of control, of anything that would hold me back, is turned to ash and washed away by the tide.

I try so hard for one last second. I clench my jaw tightly, shut my eyes away, and fist my towel up to the point where it hurts. But her draw is stronger. Her draw wins over everything else. Her draw convinces me in a second that everything happens for a reason, and that there is nothing more standing in the way.

I let out a soft groan, the last bit of me letting go.

“...Fucking...dammit.”

And then I’m on Jennifer so quick that she barely has time to turn her head in my direction before my lips find their true place once more.

The way she matches my speed and my passion is ludicrous, but I suppose it confirms she wanted nothing more as well. Instantly we’re facing each other, climbing up one another’s bodies and pulling each other onto our knees, never once stopping the stream of sucks and glides between our mouths.

Jen’s hands find my hair, and she grasps and pulls strands as she continues on with her passionate assault. I anchor myself to her as well, cupping her face tightly with both hands and drawing her even closer, drinking in all that she is. The only things that manage to break through the connection of our lips is desperate breaths and small moans.

Everything is perfect, an urgent ballet as our tongues and lips continuously dance with each other. Some feral part of me that has been dormant for far too long awakens, and I lower myself back down against the sand without any thought, pulling her on top of me. She chases eagerly after me, biting my bottom lip the moment she’s settled atop me.

Having her this close in so many ways, after so fucking long, causes me to release a groaning sigh into our plethora of kisses. She captures the vocalization with ease, drawing both it and my bottom lip into her mouth with a sensual suck. Of course, at this level of passion, this level of raw desire, our bodies react accordingly. I can feel all the fire that we created traveling down to rage in our pelvises, with mine beginning to alight directly at the apex of my legs.

Just like that, Jen responds, slowly beginning to rock her body against mine. We both moan our approvals into each other, and my hands naturally crawl up to caress Jen’s back, aiding her with her movements.

I thought a kiss would be ridiculous, but sex would be even more so. Regardless of any kind of common sense I may have, I am just mere moments from flipping her over and pounding years of want into her. I am just mere moments from reaffirming the unshakable connection we made on this same island so long ago. 

Thankfully though, the universe sides with my feeble attempts to get my composure back, and decides to literally douse the fire burning out of control on its sands. Another rogue wave, the biggest of them all perhaps, suddenly surges quickly up the sand, enveloping our legs in rather freezing water.

Jennifer releases me with a high pitched squeal one second, and rolls off me the next, instinctually skittering away from the only undesired wetness on this beach. I’m still in so much of a daze that I simply lay there, allowing the wave to lap up to my thighs and completely put out the rampant desire I had been experiencing.

I have to take a moment and gaze skyward, panting softly and running my hands down my face. I use the silence to focus on drawing the blood away from my pelvis for a moment, to calm myself down after that taste of actual heaven.

I’m starting to wonder what became of Jen, where she ended up after the wave crashed our party. Neither of us are saying anything, so I can only pray that she’s calming herself down as well, and not regretting it like I had originally warned. She doesn’t keep me worrying long however, her beautiful, sunny, smiling face appearing in my peripheral vision.

“You never could resist me, hmm?” she teases with a giggle, hovering her face slightly over mine.

“Fuck you...” I mutter, shutting my eyes again but chuckling all the while.

We share a breathy laugh, before we travel into a comfortable silence, simply bathing in the afterglow together. Jen further chases away my fears of her being uncomfortable, as she begins to softly stroke her fingers through my hair. I cannot help but smile at the feeling, at the situation, at everything that’s happened. It’s nuts to think that hours ago I had been preparing myself to never see her again, and now we’re together, practically in love all over.

Leave it to Jen to either complete my thoughts, or read them entirely.

“Hey so don’t hate me for this; can I make a suggestion?” she murmurs.

“What’s that?” I answer softly, opening my eyes to meet her warm stare.

“Would you be terribly opposed to just...starting over?”

Now she’s got my complete attention, my head pivoting on the sand to properly look at her, to check to see if I’m not making any of this up. But no, I’m met with nothing but unbridled sincerity, her eyes a mixture of hopeful and loving.

“We’re basically there already anyway,” she chuckles softly, “We pretty much hopped right back to square one again. I just...”

She inhales deeply, giving my hair another stroke.

“I miss you, Joshy...I’ve missed you more than I ever would have imagined. Hope this confirmed it,” she says with a snorting giggle, and we share a quick laugh of agreement before she continues, “I’m...To put it simply, you caught me completely offguard, Joshua Ryan. All these years, you made me feel things I’ve never felt towards anyone. And I guess it scared me, and overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I never really did. I fucked up so many times. Royally.”

“I definitely did too,” I admit.

“So yeah, because something brought us back together...Would you be okay with giving...us a chance again?”

I gaze deeply into her eyes, and the pure adoration I’m met with earns me the biggest smile I’ve had in such a long time.

“I don’t think I would mind that at all.”

Jen’s smile is quick to match mine, the both of us lighting up and illuminating the beach in the fading light. She gently cups my face with a hand, and presses a soft but meaningful kiss against my forehead; it feels as if she’s sealing her promise into it.

“You’re going to have to give me time to catch up, though,” I laugh, “Hoooo...I’m still trying to figure out if this all a really insane trip.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be hanging out with such a junkie,” she teases back.

“Don’t think you’ve got much of chance now, Jenny.”

Her smile runs incredibly warm at the usage of an old nickname, before she bursts into happy giggles, pulling me into a tight hug the moment I sit up.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way, Joshy.”

[firefield]

David Bowie - Glastonbury 2000

Focusing very specifically on the positive, opens oneself up to accusations of sycophancy, certainly on dedicated Bowie forums where deeply held opinions from an individual’s discerning ear are woven inextricably into any given personality. It’s something that feels unique to the art of music and sound; moreso than say painting or photography, and I think it speaks to the power of music’s ability to shape the very memories of our own lives and how we chose to live them.

This criticism of this particular show is fueled by DB’s insistence that it be truncated, the reason being a dissatisfaction with the vocal performance due to the singer recovering from an earlier laryngitis diagnosis. Other suggestions from people involved with that decision claim otherwise - that the quality of DB’s performance was never in doubt, and that it was a purely fiscal argument with the BBC having plans that differed significantly from the Bowie camp’s expectations.

Regardless, where others seem to hear a disaffectation from the material, or a boredom even, I hear humility. No doubt, DB’s connection to that place, and to the man he was in 1971 when he first took that stage, must be profound. I think that humility is immediately evident with not only the choice of opening such a huge show with Wild Is The Wind, but in the performance itself. It feels to me like he chose a song he himself did not write, a song that is the very castle-on-the-hill of the artistic expression of intimacy, and he makes an extremely public and passionate attempt to scale up that mountain, accepting the bumps and bruises and scrapes right there in the open. The heat of the spotlights juxtaposed with the visible exhalation of breath into the cold. One man, one huge crowd of fans and non-fans alike. A word on a wing.

Another criticism is the “let’s play the hits!” aspect which is obviously valid, and something DB himself wasn’t thrilled about, described by his writings in the 2020 Glastonbury CD/DVD/LP set liner notes. He recognized that many that purchase tickets for a festival like that, do so with no knowledge of who all the acts are and all their material, and he felt an obligation to do his best to try to be inclusive of all. So with a few exceptions (like the wonderful arrangement of Let’s Dance) these arrangements are what you’d expect from this particular band at this time, and the songs are recognizable and certainly sing-along-with-able.

I’m not going to track-by-track this 2 hour show extensively. I’m nauseatingly long-winded as it is, so I’ll just point out a few things that struck me about the show and the recording. Earl Slick and Mark Plati really sound great together. For as short a time as they had to put this together, it’s impressive how complimentary their dueling guitars are - especially when you consider that the lines between who plays rhythm and who plays lead are not clearly defined. They both handle those roles at different times and they sound great together.

Changes was a given here with its inclusion in the ‘71 set. Great guitar stuff happening here.

THAT rendition of Life On Mars after a laryngitis diagnosis? Come on now. Extraordinary.

Did you catch how DB casually mentions Absolute Beginners is his “favorite song of the 80’s?” and that he hopes some of them know it? Very cool inclusion. Some of the Kate Bushian background vocals are a bit weird here. They work technically, but I could do without them in the verses.

You can feel the band really settling in here on Ashes To Ashes. Gail’s bass arrangement is fantastic, and Sterling’s drumming is killer. I’ve always been perplexed as to what the steam-hissing sound is during the chorus. Still don’t know the what or why of that. Is Garson triggering a sample? It plays through the coda too.

I like this version of Rebel Rebel, and you can see DB totally feel the crowds reaction to it. Everybody is rocking out, Sterling is pounding the snare like a time-stretched jackhammer on resilient concrete, the backing vox are solid and Earl plays that riff like he’s landing his Cessna on an airstrip on his personal island villa.

Bowie breathless on Little Wonder after slaying Rebel Rebel. Hang in there Dave!

So yeah, I get the criticism of Golden Years. If you take DB at his word, that they hadn’t played it in forever and only worked a week - it shows. Firstly without very specific notes to the live sound guy about how to treat all these vocal trade-offs in the arrangements, it’s gonna be that dudes nightmare. Clearly some parts aren’t totally thought out… the harmonica sound is “there” but just…. there. Gail’s parts are poorly mixed. The sound guy is playing constant catch up. The guitars aren’t as complimentary as you’d want for a song whose groove is paramount.

And Fame wipes that all away in an instant. When I first saw Gail switch to a 5-string bass and drop into that groove… hot damn. DB sounds fantastic here. And Sterling’s stutter-step drumming is just badass. Solid as a rock. The band is having so much fun and you feel it from literally everyone on stage.

All The Young Dudes cranks up the ROCK feel of the show significantly at this point; a trajectory that apexes with a totally slamming version of Ziggy Stardust that I’ll get to later. Holly and Em’s backing vox here are great.

Slightly shaky start to TMWSTW but they pull it together fast. Plati’s acoustic is a nice addition to the shows timbre. Some nice interplay between Earl and Mike. Sterling Campbell again with some stellar drumming. I love that snare sound.

Mike Garson is strangely absent on Station To Station and there are balance problems with parts of the vocals, but overall serviceable. I tend to focus on Earl Slick’s growling guitar leaning into the left channel. He has such a snake-like delivery when he’s playing under the vocals. As I’ve mentioned, I love Sterling’s drumming, but I miss Dennis Davis on tracks like this. Cold grooves like this was in his blood.

“I feel love in this room. I do!”

Ahhh. I hear a lot of joy in this version of Starman. Mike’s rolling piano is beautiful. What a great song choice for this venue, and the crowd loved it.

“I’m hot and sweaty, I wore a stupid jacket, and I’m too vain to take it off.”

Wow. You can immediately tell that this band is more familiar with and has toured Hallo Spaceboy. Nice to see this toss to fans of his newer stuff. A potent slice of menace to balance out the childlike charm of Starman. DB’s voice showing some fatigue.

Under Pressure was a certainty for this show of course and Gail nails her difficult synchronous parts with grace as always. I think DB is aware his voice could go, and is making melodic, timbre and amplitude choices carefully to pace himself.

“…and goodnight…”

Well, I love this encore opener of Ziggy Stardust. Sterling sets the tempo smacking his sticks together and it’s a dirty, sloggy, whore in the alley tempo and Earl just feels it right up. Again, Sterling’s snare sound is a shotgun slug. Earl and Mark fully unified, and DB pushing his voice and laying it all out there. So great. For those of you that avoid this show as lackluster, decontextualize this track from the show itself and crank it up. It slams.

WhooBoy, yeah. DB is tired here. Heroes probably would have worked better as a show centerpiece, and with a fresher vocal, but I’m not in love with this pedestrian guitar arrangement. This song needs abandon. It needs desperation. This arrangement sounds a bit like they just want to get through it. Maybe that’s too harsh, but it’s easy to find better live versions. Like straight from 1977, Bowie lets his vocal fatigue/strain work in the songs favor.

So the first time I ever heard this show was on a cassette a friend made for me, a boot of the whole show, and I just assumed as I was listening that Heroes would close the show. And then… uhhh… Spanish guitar from Earl? eBow-like guitar swells from Mark? What am I hearing here? Ahh. Let’s Dance. Sweet! Love this arrangement. They’d done it this way before, but back then, I think it was the first time I’d heard it. Man. DB’s voice is hanging on for dear life.

Again, assuming LD would close the show. And…. I’m Afraid Of Americans! Great rendition. Excellent keyboard touches all through this thing and gives DB a chance to growl through it without any intense melodic acrobatics.

Well, there you have it. Your mileage may vary as they say. Unavailable in its complete form officially until only recently, it’s a fun huge-festival type listen. Are there “better” shows? Certainly. But I enjoyed the hell out of this DVD/CD edition as well as the Bureau Supply edition on vinyl. Next up: Heathen.

EDIT: That slaphappy bass part on Ashes To Ashes is played by Mark Plati - Gail switches to rhythm guitar. That’s what I get for writing instead of WATCHING.

[v3-killing-harmony-imagines]

‘What if the guys were being executed and they saw their S/O run out onto the execution stage to try and save them?’

THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR HOSHI’S PART OF THE ASK BE WARNED

But other than that there’s no spoilers ;0

Gore warning 

Saihara Shuichi:

He could feel the sweat pouring down his forehead as he waited to be killed

Apologies long said to every one of  his classmates, especially to Kaede, there was only one thing left for him to do

The execution stage looked like a library, it was a cylindrical-shaped room with shelves upon shelves of books lined every wall, books piled on the floors creating towers, sheets of paper scattered the floors

There was a sun roof at the top of the room, sunlight streamed in and hit the opposing bookcase

The room was fully sealed, besides the windows for his classmates to look through and watch as he died  

At the moment he was sitting in a chair, a case file called ‘SS-v3’was places on his lap

With a gulp, Saihara gripped the pile and flipped to the first page; It contained a summary of the whole ‘case’ where Saihara was killed in his sleep

There was a rumbling behind him,  turning his head slightly, he could see the shelve behind him splitting in two, opening up to reveal a gigantic magnifying glass

He turned back to the file and continued to read it

The next few pages showed the profiles of the victim and killer, It was Saihara and Amami

He flinched at the thought of the other boy, just a few hours ago their positions in this case were switched…..

There was a squeaking noise, he could see the stream of light in front of him traveling down the wall

The more he read the book, the more he began to feel sick

The stream of light passed along the shelves, traveling in a horizontal line

Every detail was identical to the case just now, the only difference being that Saihara was the one that died rather than Amami

Oh man, I’m really sorry Amami

But begin sorry wouldn’t change the fact that he was now dead, and that Saihara would have to deal with the consequences

Smash

…was that glass?

Oh my god you-

You just broke one of the windows, climbing through the shards and racing towards him

“a-AH!” Saihara screamed out, “NO STAY AWAY!”

A giant snap of wood and groan caused the two of you to look up

The books case was split horizontally, the magnified beam of light had acted like a laser and had cut through the supports

With a scream, he grabbed your arm and began to run as the shelves and books came crashing down

There wasn’t too many places to hide, the windows were right by the falling debris, everything else was open; you’d be a sitting duck

Thinking fast, Saihara ran towards the opening in the book shelves, the one that the magnifying glass had came through

The room between it was big enough that you would be able to fit in, no worry of getting crushed if the glass came back to its original place  

You had just gotten to the doorway when a loud creaking nose filled the air

You both looked up, it was coming from the magnifying glass

The glass lens was too heavy for the wooden end to hold, or maybe it was triggered to do that…but it broke, sending a truck- size load of thick glass hurdling towards the ground

Saihara reacted on instinct, he let go of you and pushed you through the doorway

He hear you cry out, tripping and falling as you rolled into the room

The last thing he saw was your frightened expression, calling out to him before he felt the stars connect to his eyes and he felt no more

 Ouma Kokichi:

Ouma kept up the carefree mask on as he was forced to sit in a chair

The various Monokumas around his arms and legs clicked the cuffs in place, keeping him fixed there

Not like he was going to try and escape anyways, but sure

He waits there... various sirens flash as a monokuma rushes in, military uniform,  he places a tray of pills in front of him

Oh, so that’s the situation

Suicide, poison, presumably he’s going to be burned afterwards

Hitler…huh

He can see why...the two of them are both dictators…and had partners..but

Oh no

Another monokuma grabs at his jaw, trying to force the pills down his throat

Naturally Ouma isn’t gonna go down without a fight, clenching his teeth together 

The Monokuma gives a scowl extending his claws and cutting at his gums

Hard Pressure on your gums is painful enough

So having a claw digging into it, is even worse

It’s excruciating, he can barely keep the tears in his eyes from spilling 

And then, from the corner of his vision

He can see you

oh no

He doesn’t want to open his mouth and scream, so he gives a hard ‘MHM!!” Blood dripping down his white attire

You’re running between Monokumas as you try to get to him

He’s really struggling now, trying to break free and throw the monokuma off of him as he thrashes about

The damn cuffs stay in place, despite everything else as Ouma continues to (Internally) scream

It seems the Monokumas are getting impatient, he can feel various bears climbing on his back and around his torso

The more he struggles the harder it becomes for him

He’s still got his teeth clenched tight, at least he has that

He looks around, barely being able to see you

The Monokuma behind you grabs onto your The next few events are a blur

neck, trying to drag you away

Another Monokuma shoves your mouth open

And then the pill goes in

And Ouma screams for real this time

Now there’s something in his mouth

When he tries to spit it out there’s a paw clamped over his nose and mouth, suffocating him as the blood builds up in his mouth

He can’t breath

There’s a minute of resistance, before he has no choice but to swallow the pills dryly

He can feel the effects immediately

Heart beginning to beat quicker, throat constricting, starting to shake and sweat

The poison is working its way through his body, shutting down all forms of life

With a click he can hear the cuffs are off of his arms and legs, he can’t stop his body from falling as it hits the ground, blood drips onto the floor

The next thing he knows he’s being dragged on the floor, out of the room, through a hallway

With another vicious tug, he’s draped messily in the seat of a car

He notices in dismay that you’re there as well, clouded look on your eyes as you sink in shotgun

He tries to call out to you, his words fail him

He wants to tell you how stupid you are for trying to help him

This shouldn’t be right; Monokuma just broke one of his own rules didn’t he?

Unless…by trying to interfere with his plans was considered a violation…

He wants to say something, anything, at least to reassure you about his feelings

But he can’t talk, his body is betraying him

There’s a heat now, he barely feels the heavy air cloaking around his skin

Tears stream lightly down his cheeks, and not just from the smoke

With a final intake, Ouma Kokichi takes his last breath as he lets the heat take him

 Amami Rantaro:

 There was a gun on the table, loaded with a singular bullet

It held 5 chambers, one of them was filled with metal

An single light bulb hung above the table, just barely illuminating the Monokuma apposing him

There were others behind the Monokuma, jeering and yelling loudly for their leader, as it seemed to be

The Monokuma had a grin on his face, decorated with gold jewelry, an eye patch over one eye as he gestured for Amami to take the gun

He took a breath, willing his hand to take the gun and put it to his head

And then he pulled

Click

He gave a sigh as he put the gun back on the table, noticing the ‘boos’ and negative comments from the others

The room was quiet as Monokuma took the gun, placing it to his head

He pulled, almost carelessly

Click

Everyone cheered, hooting and cries of joy echoes in Amami’s ear

Shakily, he reached for the gun,  it took him longer than the first time to put it to his head

He held it there for a few seconds, before he finally pulled the trigger

Click

He gasped for air, throwing the gun on the table, it slid over to the other side as everyone let out moans of dismay, even anger

The boss shook his head, picking up the gun with its paw

He waved it a bit in front of him, perhaps trying to spin the chamber, but he simply shrugged and placed it to his head for the second time

Please please please let it fire Amami begged

Click

I’m fucked he thought

He let the cheering of the others wash and blend in his brain, thoughts beginning to become fuzzy, body shaking

I don’t want to die But neither did Ouma

He took it back; maybe Ouma did wish to die. But Amami shouldn’t have been the one to decide for him

There was a beating in his chest, from his heart as he grasped the gun with slick fingers, feeling the metal between his fingers

He took a breath, steadying himself before-

The door to the room flung open, Amami gasped , knocking the table with his long legs as jumped up

You were standing in the door way, trying to push your way through the crowd as the other Monokumas pushed against you

He gave a cry as one of them pulled a knife on you, your face froze as it pressed closer to your neck

Monokuma can hurt him, that’s fine with him, Monokuma can play whatever game he wants with Amami because he deserved it

But when he touches his s/o?

Oh baby shits about to go down

He doesn’t realize that he’s raising the gun to the weapon-wielding Monokuma until it fires

He also doesn’t realize that he’s really not experienced with guns until the bullet lodges itself in the base of Monouma’s spine

So you can’t expect him to also realize that the boss Monokuma has his own gun pointed at the boy until it’s fired at him

It hits his lungs, he can feel it in his breath

Amami gives a gag and gasp, it hurts to breath more than it hurts from impact

He topples to the ground, blood soaking through his shirt as he lays there, wheezing shallowly as his vision starts to blacken

The Monokuma is standing on top of him, grin still plastered on as he takes the gun from Amami’s limp fingers

He can feel you at his side, lips moving but he can’t hear what you’re saying

He gives you a weak smile, telling how sorry he is

He forces out one final ‘I love you’ before he can’t pull another breath

Amami’s mind blackens and his lips go cold as his last warm breath escapes his lips

Kaito Momota:

The last rocket took off, blasting into the air before it broke the atmosphere

Kaito stood on a dock, gazing up at the sky as it overlooked the ocean

Even though the sun was still up, he could still make out some stars dotting the sky

The outline of the various rockets could be seen up in space, streaking a white tail as they floated through the atmosphere

How uncanny, the ‘SHSL astronaut’ was left behind on this mission

Of course, it wasn’t really a real mission

It was just his execution

He hadn’t meant to kill, it just…he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time….

He still would accept it, he’d done it willingly (Even though no other option stood)

Actually, now that he’s this close to dying, maybe he could have chosen another option to keep his own life

But then they would have attacked someone else

At least this way he was able to protect the people he loved

He’d never forgive himself if Saihara ended up dead because of his choices; and if you died he would’ve gone insane

A rumbling sound filled the air followed by a high, sharp and short whirr. Much like a firework firing

There were meteors entering the atmosphere, burning and turning to dust thousands of feet above Kaito

The display of lights gave Kaito entertainment, it was beautiful if he didn’t think about how it was probably going to kill him

As the meteors grew in size, so did the amount of them all

At first it would be 10, then 15,then 20, now Kaito couldn’t even count how many there were

There was rumbling, from the rocks hitting the ground, he covered his ears to try and block out some of the noise

There was a crash from behind him, some maybe 100 feet out he could see the rocks hitting the ground

They were getting closer, they’d be on top of him in a second

Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, he thought

And then when he sees you running towards him he realizes that it can

He can barely hear himself screaming through the roar of the world falling apart, he’s running at top speed towards you

One of his slippers falls off his foot, he barely pays it any attention

When he reaches you, you’re crying and sobbing as you hug him right then and there

“Dumbass, you’re going to get yourself killed!” His words are meant to be harsh, they come out as a sob

He looks around, there’s got to be somewhere you can at least hide….

But it’s empty field, you’re a sitting duck

“You shouldn’t have come after me…”  oh man, he’s shaking at this point

There’s a small, wild heartbeat; he can feel it beating against him, it makes him want to cry

There’s not enough time, not enough time to say goodbye, not enough time spent with you, not enough time in this moment as he hears another explosion

There’s a ringing in his ear, is he losing his hearing?

He notices that the water isn’t normal a second after he realizes you’ve said something

He points a hand to his ear, miming the words ‘I can’t hear you.’ It seems to make you upset

There’s definitely something wrong with the water, it seems to be building up too much

It’s approaching too quickly, it keeps building up

Oh fuck me

He grabs you by the arms, shaking until you look up to him

“RUN.” He hopes he says that at least, he takes your arm and begins to run away from the shore

It’s hard to run in a straight line, there’s meteors falling non-stop in his way and he doesn’t want to accidently be under one when it comes down

He’s running, pulling you along as you stumble to keep up with him

The air is hot, there’s ashes and dirt being flung in front of his eyes in but he keeps running

He turns behind him, the wave has grown to the size of tsunami and has already crossed the shore

He keeps running, for higher ground, it’ll be your only chance of escaping

Running even when his legs tell him to stop, even when his lungs threaten to collapse

You trip, and he feels his heart stop beating

The wave is too close, you’re not gonna be able to out-run it

With his final strength, he grabs you under your arms and flings you behind him

He’s hit with a wave of water a second later, it kicks him off his feet as he’s tossed around in the water

Like a piece of trash, he’s floating in the murky depths

With a sharp bang, his head hits something. He chokes out a bit of air, air bubbles escaping his lungs

His head throbs like hell, his lungs are drying, he’s suffocating

His death build up, pain as his body screams for him to breath, pain from his head building

When he finally can’t hold it any longer, he releases a breath, inhaling water as it fills up inside of him

He thrashes, I need to breath I need to breath I need to breath , survival instincts kick in as he desperately tries to get a breath of air

There’s a final excruciating second of pain, his eyes rolling up as he catches streams of light filtering from the surface

He reaches a hand up, in a vain attempt of trying to bid the world goodbye before he stills

….

…

You wake up suspended in the air, Monokuma has a helicopter as it takes you back to the others, leaving the destroyed stage and Kaito Momota

Kiibo:

When the robot woke up he was sitting on a conveyer belt

The prepared stage appeared to have various assembly lines, scraps of metal were sitting on them, flowing down just like Kiibo was

Kiibo can see what lies before him but not behind, he’s held in place with something similar to plastic ties, hands and feel behind him

There’s the smell of smoke and petrol in the air, Kiibo doesn’t necessarily have a nose but openings in his body leads to sensors which can detect the properties in the air

Of course, he can’t really ever truly know the smell of these things, but he can at least know whether the smell is good or bad

Thanks to that, he determines that it’s a bad smell that a human would be smelling

Human huh, I guess if he really was human then they shouldn’t have been able to do that

Humans can’t be hacked, sadly

The belt is tipped upwards, Kiibo nearly falls forward from the movement

He hears a sound, it’s…a bit hard to really describe

The shing of a blade? Perhaps? Followed by a toe-curling crunch

It doesn’t curl your toes literally, it’s simply a me-

Crunch

Kiibo gasps, a pain gasp. A gasp from pain. A gasp from losing his hand and feet

He can’t exactly feel pain, thank god. But he can feel his control panel popping up with errors, if you removed an important drive from your computer, an error would pop up, much similar to the error Kiibo is getting

As the belt continues to move forward, Kiibo can see what the device was. A saw blade, bobbing up and down. It remind Kiibo of a guillotine

He kept moving, he hears the slicing of something

Saws cut at his arm, legs, face, chest, each time Kiibo lets out a yell of some sort

After the series of saws, he’s overheating, losing power, and he’s lost half of his components

He’s breathing heavily, the working fans spinning poorly as he hears the final attraction approaching

Slam

Crunch

Slam

Crunch

Oh dear, it sounds like he’ll be really turned into a toaster now

He hears the sound getting closer, he can feel his mainframe giving him many warnings

In other terms, he’s panicking

With each crunch he can feel the AI inside him telling him to get away, ‘human instinct’ that is built in taking effect

Then he sees it, to the left of his vision he can see a figure

“A-ah!?”

It’s barely visible, the next second it’s gone

But that was you, he’s sure of it

Suddenly, there’s a sharp snapping sound, and Kiibo is switched to a different conveyer belt

He can still see the crunching of the press as he passes it, shivering at the sight of it

But where is he going now?

He continues to move along, entering a new room and the thick metal doors close

All he remembers is the appearance of what seems to be torches before his memory card is gone

….

When he comes to he’s no longer a robot

His systems are working differently, he can no longer really walk or talk

He tries calling out, but it fails him

So he simply waits

And waits

Until his screen is open

He gives a peep of joy, as he stares back at you

He can feel you typing on the keyboard, communicating with him

He’s still alive, miraculously

Even if he is now really like a pile of metal….but he can do so much more now

If it can help everyone get out of here , he’ll do it

 Korekiyo Shinguji:

The room has a stage set up, red curtain draped shut. A single chair placed in the middle of the room

Korekiyo takes a seat, seeing no reason to try and oppose this little game Monokuma wants to play

A book is dropped onto his lap, from who or where, Shinguji doesn’t really know nor care

The book is titled ‘The death of Korekiyo Shinguji’ a crude drawing of the anthropologist on the cover

With a sigh, he grips the cover and flips to the first page

“One morning, Korekiyo went out for a walk around town.”

As he read that, the curtains opened, a background of a town popped up, a Monokuma with a messy long-haired wig and mask (Korekiyo nearly snorted at the sight) was strolling about

“He passed by farms, grocery stores, restaurants, hospitals and many more!”

Just like the first time, as he read the story , the performance would match to what he just read

He continued on, “He was feeling hungry, so he decided to get something to eat at the restaurant downtown.”

The background changed to that of a dinner, the Monokuma sat at a booth as he waited to be served

“He ordered a hamburger and salad, unaware of the POISION that the chef had placed in his food!”

When the word ‘poison’ was read, the stage turned a dark purple, smoke machines pumping out black smoke in the shape of a skull (which was pretty amazing, Korekiyo had to admit)

“Luckily, the silly waitress spilled all the food on Korekiyo. So Korekiyo left the restaurant.”

After he read that, a splash of…liquid and solids hit him

He made a noise of disgust, wiping what appeared to be mustard off of his nose

Imagine a plate of the most complicated burger, fries, coke and ice-cream. Put that in a blender and some butter for thickness and you’ve got what he got hit with

However at the same time there was…a smell he couldn’t quite place….

Strange

“Hungry and angry, Kuku (Korekiyo literally growled) looked around for something else to do.”

“He decided to go to the beach! So he got a towel and an umbrella before hiking to the beach!”

He was going to comment on how the Monokuma wasn’t wearing a swimsuit but then again, he didn’t think he’d want to see that in the first place

“He was enjoying his time in the sun. But then a SHARK came out of nowhere!”

Ok, this is supposed to be his death but in all honestly this is just plain silly

“Everyone got splashed with water! But lucky kuku (He still growled a second time) was the only one who didn’t! Instead he got splashed with sand!”

Oh for peats sake-

Moments later sand fell upon him in buckets, clumping with the mush already on him

Is this…sulfur?

It was barely noticeable, but it was still there all the same

“Hungry, angry and now full of sand, Korekiyo left the beach.”

From the stage, he heard a clicking noise. He didn’t do anything about it, but was cautious from then on

“Um. We seem to be having some technical difficulties. Please stand by.”  Why it was written in the book, he didn’t know

True to the book, the lights shut off instantly

He sat in silence, a scuffling sound made him tense. He would be a sitting duck for whatever would come next

Just as quickly as it went off, the light turned back on. Revealing a new backdrop and stage

When he looks upon stage he’s met with your eyes, he’s surprised to say the least

You spot him, immediately lighting up and rushing towards him

This doesn’t seem right…something doesn’t seem right...how is monokuma allowing this?

You keep running, arms open, tears in your eyes

He notices the panel on the floor when it’s too late

He tries to warn you, but you’ve already stepped on it

Then he hears something above his head open, looking up he’s met with

“A flamethrower-”

It turns on, sending sparks of fire in his direction

That strange smell, sulfur, fire

A homemade bomb-

He doesn’t hear or feel anything when the explosion happens

 Gonta Gokuhara:

He fell through the floor boards, falling through the air as he tries not to scream 

A giant spider web breaks his fall, he sticks to it immediately

The web is really sticky, he can’t tug his arms or legs away

Looking around, there’s other insects stuck on the web as well

One moth (It’s almost human size) flies into the web, flapping it’s wings desperately trying to escape

The fluttering causes the web to shake, and that’s when Gonta sees it

Beady red eyes, hairy legs, teeth coated with a  substance that Gonta hopes is honey (But probably isn’t)

It’s enormous, almost twice as big as Gonta

It makes a clicking noise, feelers patting along the string as it draws closer to the moth

Please stay still, please.

But the moth doesn’t realize that it’s about to be dinner in a second, it still continues to struggle

The spider draws closer, talons clicking as it prepares to attack

Normally, spiders will wrap their victims in a cocoon, to preserve the meal for later, sucking their blood for nutrition

This spider however, simply crunched down on the moth’s head, ripping the body apart before it ate ever morsel of the moth

Gonta gulped, no matter what painfully death he received he would accept it…he…did kill after all…

He wondered, how did Angie feel when the bugs invaded her lungs? Not being able to breathe from the hundreds of wings and lungs taking up her air?

There were other bugs, the spider chewing roughly on every one, Gonta held his breath as he felt he blood of one splatter onto his cheek

The spider was now sniffing around, padding around in circles trying to find his final victim

There was a creak from above, the spider had somehow heard it (This thing couldn’t possibly be a natural spider, Gonta should have been able to tell from its height and its way of killing but he still deduced the same)

Gonta carefully looked up, not wanting to shake the web

He could see you, lowering yourself with a rope

Oh no s/o please don’t help me please

The spider let out a high pitched scream, shooting string up at you

It caught you on the leg, immediately sticking

The spider tugged, trying to rip you from the rope. You were clinging desperately as the spider tugged you harder

Gonta cried out, thrashing in the web

The spider stopped shaking, dropping its string as it looked at Gonta

It let out another yell, it approached him

It was on top of him, sinking it’s fangs into his shoulder

Despite what Gonta said about enduring pain, he took it back in that moment

It hurt like hell fire

Bones breaking, tendons ripping, veins splitting, tissue getting crushed, horrible

The spider didn’t just go for his head, no he had to drag it out

It grabbed onto his leg, with each tug Gonta screamed louder

When his leg tore he thought he would black out right then and there

The attack was relentless, torturous

A slow, painful death

When the spider went for the kill to his head, he was slow about that as well

Crushing his temple slowly, pealing the skin and tissue away before breaking the skull as much as it could with its fangs

At this point, Gonta was wishing for death

To take away the pain, to make it all go away

Please be over please be over

The spider positioned itself for the final time, over Gonta’s eyes and skull

It sunk it’s teeth into his eyes and the back of his skull, carefully squeezing before he ripped Gonta’s skull  in half, finally being done with the entomologist

Ryoma Hoshi:

 The feeling of dread built up as he walked to his death

Hoshi stepped into the room, met with a Monokuma

He held a couple of pills and a cup of some liquid on his tray

Hoshi wondered how many times he’d be thinking about swallowing a bottle of pills, or taking a cup of bleach in his life, too many times for him to remember

At the end, he’s gotten nowhere.  He’s still going to go out in a shitty way while being remembered as a killer

Why had he killed in the first place? He didn’t know…

If things had been different, if he hadn’t been the one holding the broom behind Toujo, maybe things would have ended differently…

Maybe, in some different universe, she would be the one holding the broom as she cracked his skull, drowning him before disposing of his body

Hell, she could have just flushed him down the toilet, rather than throwing it in a tank….

Maybe she could have gotten away with it….

…damn

He took the pills, swallowing them without the need of water

Yet the monokuma insisted he drink the liquid, so he did

....woah

He feels…good…

What…the…

A warmth spreading through his stomach as he’s being led through to another room

Wow…all his worries are…gone…

He’s calm, he can do anything

The feeling of bliss spreads when he notices the rope hanging from the ceiling

Is that for him? That’s so nice for Monokuma to make that for him

He just has to use it out, that would be rude if he didn’t

Uhgah

Why is he on the ground now?

Oh you’re there, hi s/o

What are you saying? Telling him he doesn’t have to do this? He has so much to live for?

What do you mean? This is…just…he has to do this right? He isn’t scared, don’t worry

...things are better this way

He pushes you away, despite your pleas for him stop he continues on

Towards the hanging rope

Towards his death

He steps up on the chair, thinking blandly if this is the right thing to do

End his life? Isn’t that what he’s always wanted

Yeah….he supposes it is

The places the rope around his neck, about to step off

But…

Something isn’t right….

He’s…he’s been living for you…

Yeah…he has…he

He can’t go out like this, what is he doing –

He turns around, you’re being held back by a glass door…when did that get ther-

He feels the chair falls out from under him, the rope pulls around his neck as he chokes

He notices monokuma, giving a sly smile

Oh…god…he can’t feel his throat...

It’s hard to breathe…

His hands claw at the rope, trying to find leverage

His eyes water, saliva bubbling out of his mouth

With a final choke, the last of his air is cut off

His hands go limp, falling at his side

[aspergersissues]

13 Reasons Why

This post will contain spoilers for the show and real references to suicide. Please don't read this unless you're okay with both. I talk to almost no one that knew me during my middle/high school years. Basically, only family members. Even then, my adoptive parents never took what I was going through serious and probably didn't talk about it much other than just mentioning general bullying. Because of that, I want to use the new Netflix series 13 Reasons Why to illustrate the severity of things. I just finished 13 Reasons Why, tonight. I heard about it on a podcast a few days ago– that people were saying it glorified suicide, followed by a brief description. I watch the first eight hours on Tuesday, then the remaining five hours today. I was glued to it. First, it does NOT glorify suicide. It shows how horrific a choice it is and how much it impacts everyone around the person. The fact they even showed the suicide itself and her parents finding her showed how awful and ugly it is. I don't understand how that's a controversy unless people just haven't watched it and are basing it on the synopsis. Now, with that out of the way. I am Hannah Baker. Well, I was. I was bullied as bad as she was and possibly worse. Everything she went through in the series is remarkably similar to experiences in my life (including the fact I almost committed suicide twice). It was eerie. I've been crying my eyes out frequently, the past few days, recalling things I'd buried way down and tried to forget about. I know this series is hard as hell to watch, but I want to ask something of my friends and family: If it won't be psychologically triggering for you, please watch the show for me. I want you to fully grasp what I've been through. It's hard to understand this through me giving short details. Seeing it acted out in front of you, as this show does, forces you to feel it. Once you have, or if you don't mind spoilers, read ahead. I wanted to take the 13 tapes in the show and look back at my life and similar incidents. The fact these are all so similar shakes me. No one should suffer through a life like this. No one. I speak out about this when I am able (which isn't as much as I would like) in some unlikely potential that just one kid can be spared from this. Just like Hannah, every time I tried to reach out for a social connection, it was ripped away harder. I am very bad with names (damned prosopagnosia), so bear with me if I have to use a description of a character over a name. Justin- I think this is Hanna's first tape. She went on one date with the guy and they kissed. He had a suggestive picture of her going down the slide and that turned into the rumor that she fucked on the first date and was a slut. I didn't get that rumor since I didn't date until I was 18, but rumors spread quickly as hell. I don't remember them all now, but I heard in 6th grade that people thought I regularly took LSD. Everyone knew I was gay (I am, but that's a complicated issue for other reasons). There were dozens of rumors floating around about me, each more crazy and horrible than the last. People assumed they were true and they followed me my entire time in public school, resurfacing at the worst times. Jess- Hannah is assigned a friend by the school, but it actually worked out. Then they quickly grow apart, but Hannah doesn't find a new friend. I was assigned a friend by the school. More than five times over the years, I don't remember the exact number. It never worked out. Never. They had other friends and no need for me. They quickly decided rumors about me were true because I was a little weird and started avoiding me or bullying me with the others. Alex- Another friend that grew apart quickly, but then made rumors about Hannah worse. I had a few people I'd latch onto for a few months here or there that would then turn on me to get a laugh from their friends at my expense. These were usually how rumors about me got so crazy. They would embellish older ones and make them more extreme and get believed because we'd hung out a few times. Off the top of my head, I remember six of these. These hurt BAD. Nothing like trusting someone only to have them turn on you. What was worse was the ones who used stuff I showed them to make up new rumors that had hints of truth to be more believable. Tyler- the stalker. Taking pictures of Hannah in her bedroom and other places. I've had three stalkers in my life. One in high school and two after. I've experienced the awfulness of not feeling safe anywhere and always thinking that someone could be looking at you. Thank god this was before people could easily share pictures on the internet. ((honor roll girl with the gay dads))- I'm impressed it took me this long before I forgot a name. This girl hangs out with Hannah and they attempt to catch the stalker together. They get a bit tipsy and honor roll girl starts to kiss Hannah and pressure her to make out, revealing she's a closet lesbian. Stalker gets a picture of them, they realize it's Tyler, honor roll girl panics and runs. Denies she even knows Hannah from here on out. This has happened to me three times. Three. The first was in middle school. Very casually dating a girl, said I love you, she denied knowing me anymore after that. We'd known each other since 4th grade. Second was in high school. We had a mild romantic fling (nothing serious) while on a trip to France with a class. Told someone that I wasn't sure, but she might be my girlfriend, after we returned to school. She told me off and said she would never even consider dating me in front of an entire class. The last was shortly after high school. Dated a girl in college. She went home for summer and I went up to visit for three weeks. While there, she fucked me stupid, proposed marriage to me, introduced me as a romantic partner to even her parents. When she came back down to Florida a couple weeks later, all my "friends" said she was telling them she was single and looking and I made everything up. Each of these fueled more rumors, as they did with Hannah who was now easy, a slut, and a lesbo. ((class president dude))- Agrees to date with Hannah, makes her wait an hour, sweet talks her into trying to date anyway, tries to get physical despite protests, then yells at her saying "I thought you were supposed to be easy!" At 17, I had a 45 year old gay man do the same to me, but I didn't know it was a date. Since I've never been attracted to guys, it never occurred to me that he was interested in me that way. We were meeting with the pretense of working on music together. So yeah, thought I was working with a musical colleague and making a friend in the process. Instead, almost get raped. ((cute quiet basketball guy))- Tries to pick up the last guy's rebound (no pun intended) and when he's turned down, starts doing cruel things to Hannah to get even (stealing anonymous compliment letters left for her in a class that are her last holdout of human contact- hard to explain without seeing it). I had someone who was supposed to be a friend of mine, according to the school and parents, despite them repeatedly hurting me. I'm just going to pick out one specific thing she did, here. I forget what grade, but I started getting extremely violent and specific death threats in my locker. I went to that friend, first, who told me to be careful; someone must really hate me. I'd been bullied for so long as this point, that it didn't seem unlikely at all. After a week of this, the date of warning was up. This was when I was going to be shot or stabbed, I forget which. I went to the principal and delivered the twenty or so notes. They figured out it was that friend who'd be leaving them. I was shaking from a massive panic attack before I found out (they sent me back to class a period before the time on the notes). There was no punishment for that friend. This is the earliest full panic attack I can remember. Clay- Hannah's clueless love interest. She wants him to make the move so bad, but he just doesn't know how. When he finally does, she freaks out from all the abuse she's taken and pushes him away. He doesn't fight her pushing back (I probably would have reacted the same way in that situation) and she decides that she's lost him and he hates her. This is the one and only tape I couldn't relate to. I never had anyone get that close to me until well after high school. Thankfully, I didn't push them away. That said, I can vividly remember many times with everyone I played Magic with in high school where something I would say or do would cause them to explode at me and tell me to get out and never talk to them again. I blame that squarely on me being autistic and not diagnosed back then. I'm sure I said several things I didn't know were a problem because I didn't know how to interact with others or that I had a problem. Couple that with social ignorance from not ever having friends and it's no shock. That's probably the closest I got to pushing anyone away. ((other cheerleader))- It's hard to work with this one, as it's so specific. She knocks down a stop sign and won't wait for Hannah to call the police and report it, leading to a fatal accident that gets blamed on someone else. I can find one way to relate to it. At least a dozen times, I've been abandoned by friends who've driven me somewhere and just didn't feel like telling me they're leaving. This was in the days before cell phones. There was a lot of walking home, or using a payphone to call around for a ride when it was far. I still have dreams about those long walks on busy roads in Florida. These really showed that no one gave a second thought towards my well-being. Bryce- the big one. He rapes Hannah. If you thought I wouldn't relate to this, I've got bad news for you. I have been. MANY times. I had a sociopath for a girlfriend just after high school. I don't just throw that word around as an insult or anything. Looking back with hindsight, she was legitimately a sociopath. I was naive and autistic, and she took advantage of that. She was also the first person I came out to as transgender and gay and she didn't hate me for it. In fact, she embraced it and helped me deal with it a bit. Because of that, I put up with a lot that I shouldn't have. I caught her cheating on me twice and let it go. Sadly, it was much worse than that. I later learned that she was sleeping with at least five other people who all thought I knew about it and got off on it. I only caught her because she got an STD from one of them and then gave it to me. I still deal with that reminder of her to this day. Why wasn't I careful to avoid the STD, you ask? She raped me. Frequently. Like, held me down and forced herself on me type of rape. She convinced me that men couldn't be raped (not that I was really a man, but that's moot). The day she was diagnosed with the STD and visible symptoms, I was with her in the doctor's room. I drove her home after and she talked me into coming inside. Despite all my protests, she once again held me down and raped me. That's how I contracted HPV. She broke up with me (yeah, you read that right) around a week later and told me that she'd only stayed with me so long so she could say she was in a relationship for three years (we broke up two days after our anniversary). She broke up with me with her new boyfriend there– the one she got HPV from. The relationship had tons of horrific stuff in it, but I'm narrowing it down to this, for now. ((guidance councilor))- Hannah comes out to the councilor about wanting to kill herself while he repeatedly answers the phone, blows her off, and tells her to "just move on" about the rape. She storms out of his office but waits outside the door to see if he'll chase after her. He doesn't. After this, she kills herself. I've already demonstrated that I had inept and uncaring school faculty above, but that rabbit hole goes much deeper than I can get into without writing an entire book. There is one guidance councilor that catches my attention, though, after flashbacks I got from this scene. In high school, I was assigned one of the four guidance councilors based on my last initial. Despite clearly being autistic, OCD, and having anxiety disorders, she never clued in to any of that. She blew me off when I dropped out of gifted in 9th grade because the teacher was even bullying me. She blew off all bullying, honestly, using the whole "are you doing anything to cause this?" bullshit we hear in the show at one point. Despite being incredibly intelligent in conversations, she looked at my falling grades– which were mostly Ds and Fs by 11th grade– and wrote me off as a junkie who would never amount to anything. I'm not guessing, she told me that to my face. It didn't matter that I'd never tried any drugs or alcohol, she knew it by my grades. Whenever I had to go to her for scheduling or even just counseling, she treated me horribly. I was obvious that I was just a burden to her and she wanted nothing to do with me. I even went so far as to petition the school for a new councilor, but was repeatedly denied. "She really does care about you! Look what she wrote in her report." She told me repeatedly that I was a waste of life and to just drop out of high school. The person with the job to be the last hope for someone like me just wasn't there in the least. Just like for Hannah. It's no wonder, looking back on this stuff that I came so close to suicide twice. Hell, I'm barely scratching the surface of what happened to me. We could throw in the physical stuff (eye gouging, hit with chairs, cleaning solvents sprayed in my mouth and eyes, etc), but that's nothing to the emotional abuse. No one was there for me, ever. Every time I'd try to reach out to another human being for some level of companionship, I'd be struck down harder than the last time. My parents never took any of this that seriously, either. I had no one until my 20's. Is it any wonder I was so depressed and turned so inward? I still credit body art (tattoos, piercings, and the like) for saving my life and giving me a reason to feel joy again. Without it, I know I wouldn't have made it to adulthood. I honestly don't know how I made it to 18 to get to those, though. I remember holding the knife once, being so close to cutting. The other time, I don't even remember how I was going to do it. I was beyond a mess that time. I've never had a good way to explain to people, to show them just how bad things really got. How many times I reached out to other people and found nothing or even more despair. 13 Reasons Why finally portraits it in its horrific reality. I've never seen such an analogue for my life that gets it so correct. They always gloss over things and try to paint a less gritty picture, thinking viewers/readers won't be able to cope with it. Netflix finally gave someone a chance to show the authentic version of high school that people like me experience. I will end with a comment about Tyler's character. Look at the way the group treats him throughout the series. This was also my life. Trying to be included in anything resulted in reactions like those. I was forced out of pretty much everything. If I was included, it was just to humiliate me. Seeing his guns at the end is deeply troubling to me. It's troubling not because of what he might do, it's that I feel sympathy, compassion, and understand his motives. I don't want to feel that way, but I totally get what he's been through. When you watch, pay attention to how he's treated, as well as Hannah. Combine them, and that's me– even the people cheering my name when I'd walk into parties (not that I went to many). Is it any wonder why I changed my name in my 20's? I want to be as separate from my past as I can be. I'm not that person anymore, thankfully. I survived it, but only barely. Others in my spot aren't as lucky.

[emmelinesadvance]

FULL NAME:

Emmeline, first of your name. Your parents had thought you to be nothing but extraordinary, they’d raised you to be as such. You worked hard, never strayed from the careful legacy in which they’d forged for you. You were meant to work, as your name so carefully suggested, meant for nothing but the greatness they’d always believed you’d held within you. Celeste, for the heavenly being you’d come to be. Perhaps some would deem you ethereal in the worst of ways. Untouchable, even. Yet, your strength would prove them wrong. For you wield your tongue as sharp as a knife, your wit is your weapon and you’ll be damned if anyone steals it away. Vance, your blood is pure and you’d like to believe you are too. Like your mother before you, you carry a bravery that is much like a lion’s roar and an intelligence worthy of Rowena herself. From your father, your strong minded and respected throughout the Wizarding World, you gained the importance of living beneath the spot light, of learning when to speak and how. To be a Vance was to be respected, to be a Vance meant the world was at your fingertips and as influential as you may have been, someone would always be waiting in the wings to tear you down.

FACECLAIM:

Willa Holland.

FUTURE PLANS:

A GIRL IS A GUN. She opts to pull the trigger. Emmeline Vance was never meant for pristine, she was raised to be strong and she was raised to be right, but propriety never came with ease to her. Perhaps it’s why she finds herself torn between what is good and what is damning. Ever since her mother was murdered, Emmeline cannot help but feel as though the tables are beginning to turn, that the wheel is spinning out of control. There’s a curiosity that comes with her mothers sudden death that the girl simply cannot shake and it’s beginning to eat away at her skin and cause an ache within her chest. It’s this drive that has allowed the girl, as well as the constant whispers and the ever looming sense of despair that linger above the castle, that cause the girl to make a choice. Yet, she isn’t alone in it. For, there are people waiting in the wings to hear her speak, there are people with whom she trusts with her life who await her quiet return to the Ravenclaw tower. The life of a girl who has been battle hardened and war torn is finally ready for the fight. Yet, the side she places herself on is not that of the valiant and brave, but the terrorizing and destructive. If only to tear them down, limb by limb, brick by brick, from the inside.

PLOTLINE : Emmeline is infultrating the Knights of Walpurgis. Gaining the trust of those she would rather see thrown in Azkaban for the pain they’ve caused the castle. Yet, she’s the inside man, the tell all, the rat among pit of snakes.

DOES THIS DARKNESS HAVE A NAME ? This cruelty? This hatred? She is a girl becoming unbound. A girl caught in the crossfire. The secrets in which she carries, the knowledge in which has been brought to light, it begins to feel as heavy as the world weighing down upon her shoulders. How did it find us? There is a reason for everything, a reason as to why her mothers remains a pile of ash no thanks to Pollux Black. Truth will out, she’d always said. Emmeline agrees. The names of those involved are permanently etched within her head, a reminder of what she has lost and what she will gain back.

PLOTLINE : Emmeline finding out the true reason behind her mothers death. What it had to do with the Dark Lord and exactly why it is that her family is being targeted.

DATE OF BIRTH:

OCTOBER 15TH ( LIBRA )

SEXUALITY/SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

I do see Emmeline as pansexual / panromantic. It’s never really been a thought that’s occurred within her head and yet I do believe that the Wizarding World as a whole is much more inclusive than ever at this point. She doesn’t limit herself when it comes to love. There are no labels in which she confides within.

I do love the idea of angst, I love the idea of slow burning relationships. A mere touch to set skin ablaze, a slight glance to shatter heart in one fatal blow. So overall, chemistry will be a big thing when it comes to Emmeline going as far as to develop feelings for someone. However, with that being said, I don’t really see her being an overly shipp-y character. Her mind isn’t in the right place right now and it won’t be for quite some time. Although, things change and circumstances change but overall I would say that chemistry is the biggest component when it comes to forming a bond with Emmeline.

WAND, PATRONUS, & BOGGART:

WAND //  10” Hazel wood with a Unicorn hair core.

PATRONUS // OCTOPUS. Fitting for a girl with many layers, those with the Octopus patronus are known to be virtuous to an extent and widely known for their expertise. It’s Emmeline’s longing for knowledge that drives her, much like the traits that go along with this particular creature. They use both sides of their brains, maintaining creativity as well as logic in most aspects of their lives. It is with this knowledge that Emmeline finds herself comfortable with the fact that she can do as she pleases, when she wants, and finds herself at peace with it.

BOGGART // It starts off as a black abyss, the unknown. Secrets and whispers, lies hidden behind every corner. She fears, most of all, what lies beneath. What remains underneath the surface, everything that cannot be explained, everything that has yet to have it’s purpose drawn out. Emmeline has always had a fear of the unknown first and foremost. A girl of logic and skill, she has no time for dizzying daydreams of far off lands in which remain unexplored. More so, her fear remains of a dark hole, unable to avert her gaze from the wonder of it all. What she fears is not knowing.

FOUR CHARACTERISTICS:

+ / - TENACIOUS // Unable to let go. She holds a grudge as mighty as ever, her grip on them hardly softening over time. There are few things that rattle Emmeline to her core, and yet it’s those things that she most oft finds in others. A slight con as well as a pro. For, when the girl is determined, she does whatever it takes to get something done. Long gone are sleepless nights of tossing and turning, of wondering what if. If Emmeline wants something done, she does it. Her tenacity takes ahold of her and she all but unwillingly gives in.

- RECKLESS // It shows in the way she carries herself, in the way she so willingly sacrifices to go behind enemy lines. There’s a reckless nature that flows through her veins that is driven by her desire to be all knowing. Perhaps it’s her downfall, her achilles heel, the fact that her heart is so hidden and yet so big it aches within her chest for answers in which she may never get. Yet, there is no doubt that the girl would go to the ends of the earth to protect that in which she considers sacred. Her mothers legacy, the most treasured.

+ EMPATHETIC // Some would consider her cold, an ice queen to rival the bitterness of Narcissa Black if they’d ever seen one. Yet, those who truly know Emmeline know her as caring as ever. She has an inner circle, names etched into her heart, and it’s those people who find themselves under the girls protection. A mutual understanding of care, of friendship in which those who are unaware of the girls vibrant soul, manage to write off. While she can oft at times seem stand-offish, it’s people like Florence and Dorcas who know who she really is. How big her heart is, and just how damaged it is. Yet, she preservers, as she always has, unable to give in to the mindless chit chat and gossip that surrounds her name in favour for the truth that those who see past a studious girl manage to know.

+ / - PASSIONATE // She’s driven. That is a simple fact. Yet, there’s a passion for the world that lies beneath her skin. A passion for justice, a longing to seek out the truth. There’s a belief so close to her heart that it begins to eat her alive. her shrouded heart ripping at the seams. A girl who had once known nothing but the peaceful and innocence of blissful ignorance is thrust into the war so unwillingly and it’s this that causes sleepless nights and terrors that plague the few and far between moments of sleep she manages. Passionate. She remains loyal to the words of the Army of the Phoenix.

+ / - KNOWLEDGEABLE // TEMPERAMENTAL // JUDGEMENTAL // SECRETIVE

CONNECTIONS:

LILY EVANS ; rivals.  ( @wildfirevans​ )

“ Two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other. “ The two girls were driven by nothing but the desire to succeed, the desire to be at the top. It’s this fact alone that has bound them together from their first year at Hogwarts. While rivalries such as Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin themselves have gone down in history as quite damning, it’s the rivalry and competition between Lily and Emmeline that causes the success of the other. Without acting as a crutch of sorts, the girls’ success would seemingly come to a stand still. They push, adversaries in the best and worst of ways. While they would never out right say it, the girls are grateful for someone to challenge them, to push them further into success. Emmeline respects Lily most of all, knowing fully well what the firecracker is capable of and in turn, can only hope for the same from the Gryffindor.

KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT ; confidant. ( @eaglewithalionsheart​ )

“ He knew me by heart. It infuriated me that he knew me by heart. “  Their friendship was subdued, a series of quiet understanding and unspoken acceptance. Where Emmeline served as cold as the winter winds themselves, Kingsley was the brightened sun that washed away any sight of frost itself. He cares and she allows him to do so. For he is one of the few that have been exposed to the girls feverish heart, her warm soul. He builds, he strives to bring comfort to those in need and Emmeline, while her front is that of a stoic girl with her head buried within books and parchment, has found herself in need of the guidance he brings. Their friendship, that of long walks in darkened corridors, simple gestures without so much as a thought of what one might gain in return, is perhaps too hidden to the untrained eye. For, within the whispers of war, it is Kingsley who screams for justice, it is Kingsley who prays for a better tomorrow and it is Emmeline who will stop at nothing, no matter how dangerous, to get the answers she deserves and the justice she knows is possible.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS ; alliance. ( @rodolphxsheir​ / @blackviperess​ / @suffering-and-strange​ )

"Look like the delicate flower but be the serpent under it”  She dances with the devil. Every way , shape and form. For her, it isn’t a game and it never will be. Yet, there’s a list in which she longs to seek out, names that plague her mind in the darkest of hours. The Dark Lord is Rising.  She knows it all too well. Her mothers blood is on their hands and yet she stands among them, with the help of Severus Snape she’s come to find an alliance with the men and women who lead the night, who terrorize, who seek to destroy. While her heart will never lay with the Knights and their cause, it is all but a show in which she seemingly partakes in quite well. Her purity never in question, her character never a topic of ridicule. In fact, the bitter winter chill that lies beneath her surface is all too comfortable among the Knights. She reminds herself she’s doing it for her mom, she’s doing it for her family, for those who don’t have a voice. Playing the part of sacrificial lamb in a world fit for the slaughter itself.

[adventurouskiwi]

Mental Health

This is a topic I wanted to have a yarn about because it’s bloody important and needs to be talked about more. Mental health effects so many people. It is human to have times where we are just not okay but it’s the part of being human we don’t share enough. When I was at uni I went through a period of time where everything became very overwhelming and I simply couldn’t cope. My brain felt like a strangers brain that I couldn’t recognise, that only allowed horrible and unhappy thoughts. At this time I was told I was experiencing anxiety and some depression and I felt extremely alone. The thing is, these feelings are quite common but no one really talks about them so while you’re there experiencing your life spiralling apart it can be an extremely scary and isolating experience. This is why I want to share my experience. I don’t know if many people read this but perhaps someone will one day who is going through a rough time and it might bring them some comfort to know that what they are going through is normal and that it’s going to be okay. It’s going to get better.

I remember when I started spiralling down this dark road I wondered what the hell was happening to me. It was like I woke up one day with a completely different brain and I didn’t know if I would ever get back to where I had been before. It’s so hard being in that place where you simply aren’t coping and you can’t see any fix, it seems so permanent and so dark. I felt like I had no control over my thoughts. Like someone was putting these dark thoughts in my head and I was there held captive to it. I would sometimes wake up and just feel so unhappy that I would stay in bed all day. I remember crying a lot. I would cry so much it hurt and most of the time I had no clue what I was crying about. I just had this blanket of unhappiness, a deep dark feeling in my gut that made me cry. And then I would cry because I didn’t know why I was crying and I just wanted those feelings to go away. Fucking exhausting.

There were times when I would drive to uni and I would park my car and just break down, I wouldn’t be able to get out. Simple tasks like going and sitting in a lecture surrounded by people felt impossible. Going to the grocery store was tough. Holding myself together around people felt like the biggest challenge. I was so incredibly fragile. Someone could say one thing and it would trigger me to go to the bathroom and just break down. The strange thing is often I wasn’t sad about something. It was just a feeling. This awful overwhelming feeling of being so sad and that feeling hung over me like a blanket. It took the light out of everything else and made me feel like I would never be happy.

For someone who is quite logical and not overly emotional to suddenly have all these strange feelings and a head that just didn’t function properly was terrifying. It seemed to happen so fast and I had no idea why or what was happening. I thought I was going crazy. I went to a councelor and it was reassuring to hear that what I was experiencing was normal. During the time I went to multiple councelors which helped me; although it was frustrating for me that there was no quick fix it was nice to be able to talk to someone who’s job was to know what I was going through. I felt like I couldn’t really confide in the people around me because I didn’t think they would understand. Not even I understood. I found it hard to explain what I was going through and one of the hardest things was when someone saw me upset and asked me what was wrong I genuinely didn’t know the answer. I had no idea how to make myself happy and feel in control again.

I remember I was home on break and one night at the dinner table a conversation became too much for me and I went to my room crying. I thought how it was horrible that no one came to comfort me when I was clearly so upset, but in reality at the time I was crying more than I wasn’t and they had tried to comfort me a lot, but no one really knew what to say. Every time I cried it felt like the biggest deal to me, I was in so much pain and my head was just exploding with negativeness. No one knew how to help me and I didn’t know how they could either.

The councelor managed to track down the cause of my anxiety and depression to events in my life that had made me question my deepest morals and stressful future events that were out of my control but stacked together were too overwhelming for me to cope with. For example, I needed to sell my horse which I loved. This by itself was an extremely hard process but on top of everything else that was going on it was unbearable. I remember when I thought about selling him I would just break down and I would spiral into this deep hole where as soon as my tears started to dry, my brain like an evil monster would remind me why I was crying and the tears would hit 5 times harder. I had a lot of headaches and got so tired. It was a deep hole that I kept falling deeper in and couldn’t get myself out of. I remember the counsellor would give me tasks and coping mechanisms which helped because it meant I could try and do something but it was such a slow and long process. I just wanted someone to make me happy and normal again and not to be stuck in this awful place. She would give me breathing techniques to cope with my anxiety and I remember thinking at the time they were so hopeless because they only worked some of the time.

I keep trying to think when or how things got better for me but I can’t really pin point it. It’s a little bit like when you have a runny nose and you find it so annoying but don’t realise or appreciate when it stops running. It just does. (Maybe this is a bad example). I think what helped was making some of the little factors that were contributing to the big overwhelming mess, a little easier. For example, my exams brought me a lot of stress so finishing them was a weight off my shoulders. I remember my parents would tell me to not worry so much about selling my horse and it helped to have them take off some of that pressure I had put on myself. So, I guess if you have a lot going on and it’s just overwhelming, trying to single out and overcome each little factor separately can help and make the whole picture a lot less daunting. It was definitely a gradual process but damn did I come out stronger. I have so much more awareness of my thoughts and emotions now. Roughly a year later there were two deaths in my family within a week of each other and although this time was bloody tough I can reflect now on how well I handled it mentally. I think through learning how to get through the lows in life we can become more adaptable to manage when everything does turn to shit; more ready for whatever life throws you.

I do know that while I was in this state I really couldn’t see a way out, or it getting better. But it does. It will get better. Be kind to yourself, have a warm shower, eat your favourite food, don’t punish yourself if you can’t complete a task. There will be waves of normality in between the darkness but don’t put pressure on yourself if you aren’t coping. Reward yourself for all your small achievements, for being able to go for a walk or managing a lunch with friends. Writing down some of the things in my head seemed to help me unravel that giant ball of thoughts slightly. Write yourself quotes, draw pictures, listen to music (that’s a biggy!). Avoid social media, avoid situations that you know will be hard. Take the time you need. I also listened to sleep meditation to help me get to sleep because it feels like it’s in that silence that our brains can become their loudest.

I know it sounds strange but I’m glad that I have experienced all this. Mental health issues are things you hear about a lot, but I could never fully understand what someone with mental health issues goes through without experiencing it myself. I feel like I understand people so much more now and I can relate to what they might be feeling. I have been able to connect with people through it and have been shocked at the amount of friends who have gone through the same thing. At the time I thought I was the only one in the entire world. I think it would have brought me comfort to know that others around me were facing their own demons. It’s shown me the importance of being open with people, of really talking to them. It can be hard for someone to understand, but someone who experiences mental health issues is a prisoner to their brain. They don’t have control over how they feel, or when they cry or what things will trigger them to break down. I think the best thing you can do is be there for them. Don’t tell them to toughen up or to try and see a different perspective because it’s simply not their choice. Understand how fragile they are, often they won’t want to talk about their thoughts because they won’t understand them or they would have been trapped with them for too long to even have the energy to put them into words. Just be there. Watch movies. Talk shit. Eat pizza. Let them know it’s fine if they want to cry. Just be there.