#and the spirits are so old I haven’t really thought about a real name for any of them either

[ornii]

—They will be Loved—

So after finishing the Multiverse of Madness film, I had an idea of a story where the reader is the Widow of Black Widow (see what I did there?) and is also the spirit of Vengeance because Ghost Rider needs an R-Rated MCU Film, and shares his grief with an also grieving Wanda.

Strange Had requested help with a “little” issue as he called it, little being an absolute lie since it’s dealing with the god damn multiverse, but you relented and agreed. It’s been, lonely since Nat left and the avengers are gone, it’ll be nice to at least get out of the house.

You rode down the countryside, the hum of your chopper in your ears and the wind on your face, you went to the orchad of Mrs Maximoff. it was often you did the dirty work of others. This one, was personal though. Wanda did some things many would consider simply evil, but it’s not always so cut and dry with things like this. The white petal orchard trees lined the side of the road and nearing her home, a voice of pure evil calls from the back of your head like a speaker.

“I sense immense magic here..” the Spirit of Vengeance, my others self you could say, was speaking to you

“Yeah, I felt it too..” You replied, I saw from the corner of my eye a woman grafting the orchard. You slowly came to a halt and halted your bike and kicked up the stand. Stepping off, you approached her, the warm scent of apple and grass felt so, human. And you haven’t felt human in a long time.

You get behind her, and she obviously senses your presence.

“Apples, right?” You ask, trying to break the ice with your old friend. “Nat would have loved it..” you start.

“Eventually.” Wanda replies in Jest, she turns to face you and you can see that her beauty hasn’t changed at all. Those beautiful eyes hold so much grief behind them. You nod, “It’s almost to good to be true, you know?” You say, trying to hint at Wanda.

“It's all very real. Thanks. I put the magic behind me.” She said to you, she walks off to continue pruning limbs and you casually follow her, “Well, I knew sooner or later you'd... show up, wanting to discuss what happened at WestView. I made mistakes, and people were hurt.” She said, the pain in her eyes, her power was neatly unmatched, and that lead to catastrophic consequences.

“I'm not here to talk about WestView Wanda.” You say.

“Then what are you here for?”

“Strange, needs your help.” You start.

“With what?” She inquired, you rubbed your chin trying to think of a way to explain. “You, ever come across the concept of, the Multiverse?” You said, Wanda didn’t look as confused as you thought she would.

“The Multiverse. Vis had his theories. He believed it was real. And, dangerous.” She drops the limbs into a crate and then gives her full attention to you.

“Well, he was right about that. From what he told me, he found a girl who can somehow travel across it but she's being pursued.” You say.

“Pursued by who?”

“Some kind of demon. From what strange told me, I’d go with Underworld Deity, a Trickster wouldn’t try to take her by force but trick her into giving her soul or powers away. Strange is ready to defend her, and we could use another Avenger.” You offer, trying to get a smile out of Wanda, she gives you a sad one.

“There are other Avengers, (Y/n).”

“Yeah but, it’s not really the same, besides between Clint, A Teenager webslinger, and …Whatever I am. We’re the best line of defense for her.” You explain, and Wanda poses a question.

“What if you brought America here?” She asks.

“Here?” You reply? And the spirit in your head also picks it up.

“She knows the name of America Chavez…”

“Yeah, she’s been stalking her..” you think, and Wanda goes on.

“Yeah. I know what it's like. To be on your own, hunted for abilities you never wanted. I can protect her.” She explains, you continue to look at Wanda, not saying anything as she realizes her slip up.

“..You never told me her name, did you?” She asks, now realizing she’s been had.

“No. No, I didn't.” You reply, Wanda sighs, and looks around. “You know, the Hex was the easy part. The lying, not so much.”

Wanda calmly moves her hand, which dispels the illusion and reveals the truly hellish world she’s been on, it’s blood red, mixed with such evil darkenss, no life, no trees, no happy little farm. And what stood there for you, was a Book. The, Book.

“The Darkhold.” You felt its eternal power reach out to you, ready to swallow you whole. You fight its call of power and hear Wanda.

“You've heard of the Darkhold?” She asks you, turning your eyes to her, you see her dawned not in regular civilian clothes, but that of the Scarlet Witch.

“it's the Book of the Damned. And that it corrupts everything and everyone that it touches. The Way Chthon intended it, it shows you falsehoods and a sense of power you will never control.”

“The Darkhold only showed me the truth. Everything I lost... can be mine again.” She said, somehow believing her own lies, you shook your head in disbelief, that Wanda would go so, far.

“What do you want with America? And What do you want with the Multiverse?” You demand, and she gives up her plan.

“I'm going to leave this reality, and go to one where I can be with my children.” She said, but you calmly countered.

“Wanda, your children aren't real. They were made from magic.”

“That's what every mother does. If you knew... there was a universe, where you were happy, happy with Natasha, with a family, wouldn't you wanna go there?” She asks you, and admittedly, she’s right. A simple life on the countryside, away from the Spy games and Occult evil, a world where you’re happy. Your anger slowly transformed into melancholic empathy, you frowned softly to Wanda.

“You know… Nat couldn’t have kids, so we considered adopting. It was the last thing we talked about. She really would have loved any child we had. I know it can’t compare to you and Viz though. It’s not enough that, In Many other universes, they’ll be loved?” You ask, Wanda’s walls come down for a moment and you saw the real Her. A grieving mother and widow. A tear comes down her eye, and she couldn’t reply.

“You’re right, I would love a world where I can be happy with Nat, love her, hold her… but in order to do that I’d have to kill a version of myself that’s happy. I can’t do that, I can’t kill a version of myself for my own happiness. If I did that, would I even deserve to be happy? Would you kill a version of yourself that’s happy because you’re not?” You reply. Just for a moment you saw Wanda’s eyes have a hint of remorse in them. “Wanda, what you plan do to will cause irreparable damage to our universe and the one you intended to murder and implant yourself inside, if you try to child's power, she won't survive.” You warn her, but it seems she unfortunately stuck in a fusion of corruption and grief.

“I don't relish hurting anyone, (Y/n). But she's not a child. She's a supernatural being. Such raw power could wreak havoc on this, and other worlds. Her sacrifice would be for the greater good.” She said, still trying to justify this absolutely diabolical behavior.

“You’re starting to sound just like Him, the same man who killed Vision and half of the universe.” You shake you Head, turning away from her to walk away.

“Strange killed half of the universe When he gave Thanos the Time Stone.” She retorts back to you. You halt in your steps and slowly turn back to her.

“He breaks the rules and becomes a hero. I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn't seem fair.” She replies, You Storm over, frustration coming to a boil, she could see it, the red burning flame in your eyes, the Ghost Rider.

“That was different, Strange gave Thanos the stone because it’s the only way in Fourteen Million outcomes that we beat Thanos. You want it to bring back children that don’t exist for you, Strange was Selfless, you’re just Selfish.” The venom in your words, they haunt Wanda, the growing disconnect between her and reality was apparent.. she shook off your threat.

“Return to Kamar-Taj, and prepare to hand over America Chavez by sundown. Peacefully. After that... You'll never see me again.” She bargains.

“And if I refuse?” You ask, and her sinister aura changes.

“Then it won’t be Wanda who comes for her, it will be the Scarlet Witch.” With those haunting words, she turns to walk away, you felt a blend of anger, sadness, grief all your own.

“Wanda..” you say, she stood still but didn’t turn to face you.

“I… I Miss the people that we used to be..” you say. Wanda gives a shaky sigh, you can hear her trying not to break down into tears.

“.. So do I Pral..” she mutters before leaving, as much as it tore you apart, as much as you hated it. This, could only end one way.

#male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #wandavision #wanda x y/n #ghost rider #marvel #wanda x male reader #angst #wanda angst #Ornii

[nineevees]

general thoughts on the wk “our blue and green world” special (for funsies)

they had me in the beginning, by the end they completely lost me tho lolol

!! SPOILER WARNING FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN THE EPISODE YET !!

things i liked:

the intro was!! very good!! loved how they started in space and then gradually zoomed into earth, that was really fun :D

always excited to see how the background of the final shot changes in these specials !!

right away i am so glad they finally color corrected everything i couldn’t stand how bright everything was in season 6 T_T

chris being able to just effortlessly fold his t-shirts into a stack made me laugh lol

i don’t care if anyone says the song sounded flat as hell. the disbelief i had when it first came on. “what is this music what is goin- IS THIS A SONG??” the pure, unadulterated joy i experienced from it. it may be cringe but it has set me free.

idk. i’m just glad to see all these characters back after the hiatus :D

the resplendent quetzal is!! so cool!! so pretty!! i’d love an episode just dedicated to it

saw someone say this already but common aviva W for inventing two creature power discs at once !! it’s her world we are simply all living in it

BLUE WHALES ARE AS BIG AS TWO BRONTOSAURUSES?? waow

i think ever since i’ve gotten past the age of. elementary school. martin’s nicknames for animals have been kind of hit-or-miss for me? (though it might just depend on who’s writing the script i dunno) but i liked kablooey!! (kabluey?) it’s a very cute name :D

zach remembered that he has hacker bots he can use (which are. arguably his best invention?? i’m pretty sure?? i get why they don’t use them every single time zach shows up bc that would get old quickly but it establishes that despite being a whiny man-child who couldn’t tell a walrus from a wombat or a wallaby, he can still be a threat to the wk team)

indri lemur my beloved 🫶🫶

and everyone’s been talking about that so um. let me throw my hat into the ring then.

i can see the intention behind trying to redeem paisley, but it just. doesn’t really match with what’s been established by her character?

the entire special hit me with subsequent punches of “wow this is a kid’s show and i am NOT the target demographic” when they were talking about the water cycle and explaining global warming. so it makes sense, in a sort of wish-fulfillment kind of way that they’d try and redeem the villain whose goal is arguably the most realistic out of the main four.

zach’s main gimmick is using wild animals for his own technology. donita uses wild animals for fashion. gourmand cooks and eats wild animals. yes, the latter two can and do happen in real life (not… really sure about zach’s but that’s not the point). but paisley’s gimmick was never about harming animals, but destroying the environment they live in, in order to build things for humans instead. she’s the kind of person who you’d most likely encounter in real life. redeeming paisley has nothing to do with her character (a businesswoman who finds nature “yucky” as seen in the spirit bear and Asian elephant episodes), instead her general gimmick. wouldn’t it be nice if we could get the people destroying animals’ homes to truly see how beautiful nature can be? so much so that they stop trying to destroy it and instead attempt to help preserve it?

(this is just a personal nitpick but paisley’s new design absolutely is NOT working for me srry)

after i watched the special i had some ideas abt how it potentially could have gone instead?:

don’t redeem paisley at all: again, i get the general idea of why they did this but also. it doesn’t?? line up with her character at all?? the way she was acting in the beginning was fine and perfectly in character for her. she just wants nature out of the way in order to complete her plans, and she has no time for zach being overly concerned with the wild kratts. you could argue that her knowing that dolphins and whales weren’t fish but mammals was foreshadowing to her redemption, but like… paisley’s not dumb?? donita has also corrected zach on not knowing his animals in the past so unless you’re also going to argue for a possible donita redemption in the future then. yeah. i dunno. the other villains didn’t need a redemption to make the special they were in interesting, i don’t see how this one should be any different.

another redemption fake-out, but do it much earlier in the story: i have. my own gripes about how the plot of this special went but we’ll save that for later. have paisley initially be dismissive of the wild kratts’s presence, but once she learns that the kratt brothers are arguing and that aviva, koki, and jimmy are spending all of their time trying to get them to make up, pounce on that opportunity. have her go all over-the-top (like she did in her canon redemption) and trick the wild kratts into thinking she’s turned good, only for her to turn on them in the second half. this might be too similar to “a creature christmas” though. this one would take up more of the plot if that’s any consolation?

give a hint to a paisley redemption arc, but don’t make her do a complete 180 right away: if they’re adamant on redeeming paisley (again, i see the general idea behind this gimmick-wise), then they could still do it and make it fit with her character. remember that paisley’s intentions are not to harm animals, but their environment (which is not any better, making that clear). she can still have her awed-by-coral moment, but maybe. tone it down?? she can have second thoughts about going with the plan, but have zach or rex* encourage her to continue. she steels her resolve, but remembers the coral, and hesitates. and the kratt brothers use that last-minute hesitation to defeat zach’s zachbots and paisley’s pavers. have paisley question why she couldn’t go through with it as she and zach leave madagascar. you could have aviva or one of the other wild kratts theorize that paisley has started to have a change of heart after seeing what nature is capable of, if left to thrive. but again: don’t redeem her right away. hint at it, and then explore it whenever she appears as the main antagonist in an episode of season 7.

*i’m admittedly not caught up on all of wk, but like. did paisley fire rex or something. WHERE WAS HE THIS ENTIRE SPECIAL??

as for the plot point of the kratt brothers fighting… yeah that definitely could have gone better.

(again, minor nitpick but jimmy saying that this was the first time he’s seen the brothers fight,, then implied that it happened every single laundry day,, but also he’s definitely seen them fight before? or had disagreements at least?? isn’t that the premise of at least two different episodes not counting this special. this script is also Not My Favorite. not sure how to explain it but some of the dialogue seems a little awkward?)

ik that the brothers get into danger 24/7 but i feel like. martin should be a little bit concerned that chris was getting squeezed to death by a green anaconda?? like you don’t have to make him overtly worried to the point of apologizing, but you could at least. make him look at chris with concern? i get that the point is that “oh no the brothers are fighting so they won’t help each other when one’s in danger” but. martin your brother is dying STOP SMILING NONCHALANTLY.

the resolution between the brothers was. kind of rushed? all it took was chris complimenting martin (“nice one, bro!”) and then activating some creature powers and then everything was fine. is. is that all it took?

if you liked it then that’s 100% fine !! i’m glad you enjoyed it :D it just wasn’t for me

just my personal preference but i think i would have preferred it if we spent more time with the brothers solo (martin at sea and chris in the rainforest) and have them come to their realizations that the planet needs both blues and greens to thrive separately. like martin sees the planktonic soup and acknowledges that the creatures who live in the ocean need a little green to survive. or chris sees how important rivers are in the amazon and remembers how the rivers will eventually flow into the ocean. and both of the brothers remember their adventures with each other (or aviva, koki, and jimmy remind them). they can still be stubborn and not forgive each other, but i’d like them to at least like. acknowledge each other’s pov and respect it.

or: do something with aviva trying to program two creature power suits at once (the brothers are both in madagascar at this point). like, what if there was a creature power suit malfunction where martin is a blue whale at first, but then turns into an indri. and chris starts our as an indri but then his suit malfunctions and he becomes a blue whale. the bros swap places, with martin going on land and chris going to sea, and then they realize that the other had a point - the land is home to so many wonderful creatures and so are the oceans. and how both are connected and make the earth their home. boom, reconciliation.

also another personal preference thing, i really wish they spent more time with kablooey/kabluey and mambiky (?). i’m here for cool creatures and i wanna see more of the cool creatures !! is that so much to ask for !!

also also. i think the indri-conda was born bc someone saw the pun potential and to that i say. no comment.

i still have. a lot of thoughts but i think i’ll just leave it there for now. ik i criticized it a lot but i did genuinely enjoy the special :D i’m happy to have the brothers back from hiatus and can’t wait to watch the other episodes !!

#wild kratts #wild kratts spoilers #our blue and green world

[amaya-7]

A Small World To Your Eyes

• In the world of Old Mondstadt, there was a bard, a wind sprite, and a city of people who were neglected the sight of the stars. “What is freedom, if demanded of you by a god?”, is a question sought in those years. A question, holding more than what it lets on.

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

• Angst, Venti’s backstory/story quest spoilers, descriptions of war, sad boi hours, I haven’t slept in 2 days so take the spelling with a grain of salt

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

“The beginning of the end” is a term well known; though it’s not a term well seen.

A particular boy sat on a small plain of grass, slightly slanted to resemble a small hill. The grass was green, but a little too dark.

Healthy grass would look vibrant, sprightly! At least, that’s what Venti imagined. The grass where he lived was dull- prosaic - in the eyes of a bard.

Everything was dull in Old Mond’. The stone pillars that held up great bridges, the grey walls to stop the citizens from getting hurt in the splitting dome of wind.

He felt like a bird in a cage. Oh, how his heart ached to see a real bird. Even a feather would suffice.

The thoughts of his situation veiled his young mind thickly. He could barely hear the tune he softly plucked on his lyre, or the soft sound of light bells to accompany it- oh.

Venti tuned back into the world around him- the small world he could see at least. The little wind sprite next to him floated lazily around his head.

“Have you ever seen a bird?” The bard whispered, as if he were asking a question that the world shouldn’t pry on.

The small wind sprite stopped its circling and came to rest on the bards knee where his legs were crossed.

It made high-pitched ringing sounds, short and sweet. A form of affirmation, in Venti’s mind.

“I haven’t. I haven’t even seen the blue of Teyvats sky. I wonder how sweet the setting of the sun looks, or how brilliantly the stars in the sky shimmer.” Venti pondered, the wind sprite twinkling away in agreement.

“I can’t even fathom of how vast the lands outside spread, or how deep the ocean dwells. But you’ve seen it all, haven’t you Barbatos?” The bard continued.

He named the wind sprite ‘Barbatos’ as a form of friendship. The wind spirit had quite the personality akin to that of someone who has lived to tell many tales. A wise someone.

‘Barbatos’ means bearded, and Venti felt the wind sprite and the name were compatible in that sense. A wise entity; a free entity.

“I really hope you can understand me. I enjoy having you around, expressing my dreams to something that has seen them firsthand gives me a sense of satisfaction.”

What Venti didn’t know, was that the little wind sprite understood every word he said. Though, unlike Venti, it couldn’t verbally express his thoughts.

It couldn’t tell the young bard about how there was more than one type of bird, or how beautifully a shooting star could shine.

It wanted to tell Venti all about how the world was so much bigger. How the world he was shown was nothing compared to the word he had yet to experience.

It wanted to show the young bard. To show him everything he has dreamt of firsthand. To see how happy Venti would be when his dreams came to life.

Alas, the wind sprite chimed away, and all Venti could do was enjoy the sound.

As the bard looked over at the tower where the city’s God resided, his face clouded over in thought. He understood where Lord Decarabian was coming from; protecting the city and allowing them a form of freedom in this safe vicinity.

What he failed to realise, however, was that ordering freedom had no purpose. To order freedom is to bound another set of shackles to whomever it was ordered upon.

A city of freedom, with no freedom give. How funny.

The wind sprite observed Venti curiously, the boy’s look of inner conflict not going unnoticed.

Then, the bard stopped strumming his lyre. His gaze was still fixated upon the tower, but he held not a look of indecisiveness, but one of determination.

The fog within the boy’s mind had finally thinned into nothing.

He set his lyre aside onto the sun-depraved grass and held out his hands to the wind sprite.

Barbatos gladly took refuge in the cup of his palms, flapping his little wings expectantly at what the bard was about to say.

“Barbatos, I want to ask a favour of you.”

𝙄’𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“I’ve decided that Mondstadt shall no larger be the city of caged birds. We’ll be the city of freedom. True freedom.”

𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙩.

“That means we’ll have to go to war against Lord Decarabian. A battle for the Mondstadt everyone dreams of. I’ll rally up the citizens and get everyone who can fight to fight alongside us.”

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩?

“What I would like you to do, Barbatos, is fetch me a celebratory gift. A symbol of our retribution on those who robbed us of our lives.”

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡 𝙗𝙚?

Venti smiled at this particular chime, for he somehow understood.

“Could you get me the feather of a bird? Birds are a well known symbol of freedom, and I’ve always wanted to know how they feel to the touch.”

𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡.

The young bard stood up, a determination in him so fierce that it could rival the flames of hell. The wind sprite floated off of his hands to watch him run off.

“Make sure to give me that feather after, then we can see the freedom of Mondstadt together!” He called back, waving a hand in farewell.

𝙒𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙑𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞.

_______

The battle cries of hundreds enveloped the city. The citizens of Mond charged alongside the Bard, holding his bow and arrow.

But not before long, blood stained the once dark-green grass. Bodies fell by the minute, stone crumbled and pillars collapsed.

Fire danced its way up the tower as Lord Decarabian watched his city fall to ruin. Watched his people turn against him. Watch, as they waited for him to be dethroned.

Lord Decarabian didn’t personally try to stop their attempts, for it was the freedom of choice, was it not? But that is what he had given them. Freedom. He thought they were happy.

He gave his people sanctuary, protection from the wrathful gods outside of his barrier. So why? Why were they trying to fight for ‘freedom’? Why were they fighting for something he had long-since given them?

Lord Decarabian sat in his tower, pondering about where he went wrong, while the people below fell to their eternal slumbers.

_______

The wind sprite had found a feather, indeed. Blue and white adorned it, along with its softness to the touch- the softest it could find.

But the boy who had asked for it was leaning against another boy with hair of flames; a survivor of the battle.

However, the flame-haired boy was not supporting the injured. The bard was still. His cheeks pale. He was no longer strumming his lyre in heavenly tunes, but holding it limply to his side.

An arrow had struck the space on his chest in which he would usually hold the lyre. He eyes stared unseeing, not at the ruins of Mondstadt, but at the blue sky above.

“The beginning of the end” is a term well-known, and now well-seen. The beginning of Old Mondstadt breaking anew.

𝘼 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨, 𝙑𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞. 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙨.

Though the bard got to see the blue sky in his final moments, the wind sprite never got to give him his feather.

#venti #genshin impact #old mondstadt #Mondstadt #anemo archon #anemo god #anemo vision #Venti’s backstory #Barbatos #vent x reader #refer x Venti #mythology #folklore #ancient gods #stories #angst #sadgirl #sad boy #fanfic #genshin impact hc #headcanons #scenarios

[hqbaby]

chapter five — moments

long time running, oikawa x reader Love is a mistake that Y/N and Oikawa just can’t seem to stop making.

previous — masterlist word count! 1.9k — content! fluff

“So I wait for you like a lonely house, till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.” — Pablo Neruda

You pick up a box of cereal and drop it into your basket. At least, you think it’s a box of cereal. Your Portuguese isn’t quite there yet.

Taking your time, you walk through the aisle of pasta, reading through their names carefully as your flip-flops tread against the linoleum floors. You take a pack of fettuccine and grab your usual can of tomato sauce—it’s on sale and you feel very proud of yourself for saving a few reals.

“Y/N?”

You shift your gaze from the shelf to the man walking towards you from the other end of the aisle.

Oh, you can’t help but think to yourself. It’s you.

“What are you doing here?” Tooru asks, his voice bright.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you say, dropping your arm to your side and letting your basket swing.

He smiles. “Just visiting with the team,” he tells you. “Now, come on, what brings you here?”

“Needed a break from everything,” you say. “And I guess I just wanted to see the world.”

His brows furrow with concern. “Why would you need a break?”

You feel a little awkward now, just standing around. You offer him a shrug and try to laugh. “Lots of things,” you say. “I guess I haven’t really spoken to you in a while.”

“Two years.”

“Two years,” you echo, nodding. You look down at your basket and raise it for him to see. “Why don’t I pay for these and we go get some coffee?”

He looks a little taken aback.

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like you’ve forgotten how to speak to people. “If you’re not busy, I mean,” you say, embarrassed. “You know what, forget it.”

“No,” he says, waving his hands a little. “I’m free all day. Come on, let’s get some coffee.”

You stir your drink and watch as people pass by the window of the little coffee shop. It’s a nice place beside your apartment run by an old Italian couple that moved to Brazil when their kids were grown. They’re kind to you and always seem to treat their customers with care. You just think it’s really nice, that’s all.

“But why?” Tooru asks.

You take a sip from your cup and avoid his eyes. “It just didn’t feel right,” you try to explain. You know you’re not doing a very good job at it. “I had the ring on my finger and I just knew it didn’t feel right.”

He frowns, looking down at his cup of coffee. “It’s not… because of me, is it?”

You can’t help but laugh. Not mockingly or mean-spirited, just a laugh. “No,” you assure him. “We just weren’t meant for each other. He was sweet but it wouldn’t have worked.”

“But you must’ve thought it would,” he says. “I mean, you said yes when he asked you to marry him.”

You nod. “Yeah,” you tell him. “At that moment, it felt like it would’ve worked. But, the more I thought about it, the more I looked at our life, I just knew I wouldn’t have been happy with it. And he didn’t deserve that.”

Tooru considers you for a moment, looking at you with intent eyes and his lips pulled into a line. Then, he nods. “I think I get it,” he says. “What about your work though?”

“Still there,” you tell him. “I can go back to the firm if I decide to. Or I can leave. I’m not really attached to anything right now.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

You look out the window. A little boy is pestering his mother for some ice cream and, by the looks of it and the amount of candy the kid’s already holding, it’s going to be a hard no.

“Yeah,” you say, watching as the child and his mother walk away. “I think I like uncertainty now.”

You turn to look back at Tooru who’s watching you with a strange expression on his face. You don’t think you’ve seen it before, or maybe you’ve forgotten it. It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten to talk like this.

“What is it?” you can’t help but ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “You just look so much older now.”

You chuckle. “Do I have wrinkles now or something?”

“No!” he says, suddenly panicking, worried that he’s offended you. “No, it’s not that! It’s just… you look all grown up.”

“Oh.”

You do feel all grown up now. Everyone around you seems all grown up too. Most of the people you know are married or having kids or doing really well in their careers. Everyone seems more stable than they did in your early twenties and you feel like you are too.

Tooru looks down when you don’t say anything else. “Sorry,” he says. “That was weird.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you tell him. “You look all grown up too, Mr. Olympics.”

He beams at you. “You watched, right?”

You feel yourself soften at the way he lights up over what he’s passionate about. It hits you that’s one of the things you love about him. Loved, you try to correct yourself. But part of you knows that’s not what you really think.

“Of course I watched,” you say. “Iwa would’ve strangled me if I didn’t.”

“So?” he prods, like an excited child. “What did you think?”

You shrug. “I think you were great,” you tell him. “And that pass you did in the second set was just—chef’s kiss, I gotta tell you.”

He grins. “Right?” he says. “Man, it was so much fun. And beating Ushiwaka and Tobio was pure poetic justice.”

“It was,” you laugh.

He leans back in his seat. “So,” he says, a little cautious. “Are you attached to Brazil?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Tooru clasps his hands on the table. “Do you wanna come to Argentina with me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

You hang clothes on the line, reaching to get them from the basket at your feet then clipping them up beside each other: a green sundress, a Godzilla hoodie (you make a mental note to return it to Iwaizumi), a pair of boxers with tiny aliens printed on the band, a fuzzy sock missing its pair, a blanket that costs more than your first year at university.

In your ears, your earbuds blair a crappy romance audiobook that the sales clerk from the supermarket down the road recommended. Your lips part in a shocked gasp as the leading lady in the story reveals that her husband is having an affair.

An arm wraps around your waist.

“You’re sweaty,” you whine, trying to escape his grasp.

Tooru buries his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer. “This is what you get for dating an athlete,” he tells you, his words muffled against your skin. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Why? Are you making?” you ask, pulling your earbuds out. You clip the last shirt up on the line and turn around in his arms, pressing your forehead against his and leaning in for a kiss.

“No way am I cooking on my day off,” he says when you pull away.

You roll your eyes and chuckle. “We can go to the bakery then,” you tell him. “After you take a shower. You really are sweaty.”

Tooru lets his arm slide away from you as he sighs. “Fine,” he says. Then, he raises a brow and smirks. “Wanna join me?”

You stick your tongue out, picking the basket up and holding it at your side. “I don’t shower with sweaty guys.”

“Fine,” he groans, turning around. “I’ll be done in a flash.”

“You always say that, but you honestly shower longer than me,” you say as he begins to walk back into the house.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

It’s four in the morning and you’re wide awake. You lie on his chest and listen to his heart as it beats, steady and strong, and lift your hands to trace your fingers on his skin. You press yourself closer to his side.

“Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “I drank too much coffee.”

“I keep telling you not to drink coffee at night,” he scolds, sounding almost like your mother. “You should really listen to me. I got the best science grades in high school.”

“Right,” you laugh, lifting your head up to look at him. “I had a thought.”

Tooru reaches a hand to stroke your back. “Oh?” he says. “Wanna share it?”

You hum, pushing a strand of hair from his face. “Let’s get married.”

“What?”

“I wanna marry you,” you tell him. “Do you… wanna marry me?”

His expression is unreadable. Before you can even say anything, take your suggestion back maybe or offer something else, he sits up, careful to make sure your head doesn’t hit anything when his chest moves. He opens his bedside drawer and reaches inside to pull out a ring.

You gape. “What—”

“You weren’t supposed to ask first,” he chuckles, holding the ring out for you to see. It’s a simple thing with a silver band and a diamond set in the middle. “But, yeah, I do wanna marry you.”

You stare at him. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

He furrows his brows. “How is it too soon?” he asks. “I’ve loved you forever.”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, “we’ve only been together for a year.”

He leans back against the headboard and cups your face in his hands. “Well, timing’s never really been our strong suit.”

You hum. “It really hasn’t.”

He holds the ring out and you take it. Slowly, you turn it between your fingers, watching as the diamond glistens in the moonlight. You turn to look back at him.

“How long have you had this for?”

You can see his face flush as he tries to avoid your gaze. “A while,” he tells you. You give him a look and he relents. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“Are you serious?” you ask. “Tell me you’re joking.”

He looks back at you and gives you a toothy grin. “I’m not,” he says. “I mean, I was being young and stupid back then. It’s not like I could’ve asked you to marry me when we were eighteen, but… I just felt it in my gut that it would happen someday and I wanted to be ready.”

You sit up and glance between him and the ring. “I can’t believe you,” you say, hitting his chest lightly. “Why’d you believe in us so much? Even back then, when we were making a mess of everything?”

He shrugs. “Because I knew I’d always love you.”

You put the ring down and kiss his stupid, stupid face.

“So?” he asks, pulling back a little. “Are we getting married?”

You slip the ring onto your finger and hold it up for him to see. You shrug, grinning at him. “According to your eighteen-year-old self, we really have no choice.”

You hold each other, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck. It feels like all the time in the world has passed and you’ve managed to stay still, never really letting go of one another no matter how far apart you seemed to be. Everything feels good. It feels right.

And, for the first time, you think you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

author's notes! i know this series has had a very pessimistic view on love but i think this chapter just summarizes how i feel about it—it's easy to forget what love is, but it's just as easy to remember what it was.

if you wanna read the end notes for the series, you can find them here.

#hqbaby.ltr #hqbaby #haikyuu #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru fic #oikawa fic #haikyuu fic

[motownfiction]

spirit host

In college, Steph hangs out with this guy, Vince, who’s been in a few of her art classes. He’s handsome in that painterly sort of way, with a smile like the sun, and even though she wants to have a thing for him, she just … can’t. She tells Anita she doesn’t know the reason, but somewhere inside herself, she knows she’s lying (and that the reason is Katie, Katie, Katie, who’s been going out with Kristen, Kristen, Kristen, which she has to be so happy, happy, happy about).

But she spends time with Vince, anyway. He’s a nice guy. He does a good impression of Dean Martin (and even looks like him, when he does his hair a certain way). It doesn’t even matter that he’s really into Warhammer.

Steph doesn’t know much about games apart from Go Fish and Candy Land. After almost three full years of college, she hasn’t run into more than a handful of D&D players. She was beginning to think they didn’t really exist. But Vince’s thing about Warhammer is all his own. He says it’s because he’s an artist, and he likes to collect and paint the different figurines. Steph asks him how he affords so many of them. Vince says it’s a combination of finding the nicest restaurants to work at (and getting the best tables with the best tippers, usually women who haven’t seen a good head of hair away from a television set in a long, long time). Today, when Steph comes back to his apartment after class to gossip, as she does every Wednesday, Vince shows her a few of his newest figurines.

He hands her one that looks like a ghostly tree.

“This is my favorite,” he says. “That’s a spirit host.”

Steph holds it up and examines it. It’s creepy, but something about it is almost compelling to her. Maybe it’s the way Vince painted it. Maybe it’s something else. Either way, before she knows what she’s doing, she asks him what a spirit host does.

“They haunt living people with their old memories,” Vince says. “They suck the energy right out of them.”

“Why would we need spirit hosts in a game if we have that in real life?” Steph asks.

Vince laughs and takes back the figurine.

“Good point,” he says. “I don’t know. I guess I just kinda like the metaphor.”

Steph nods. She’s been getting really good at metaphors since she’s been in college. Almost too good, if you ask her (and she is always asking questions of herself, for fear that no one else ever will, ever again). She knew she felt too close to that spirit host. Even without believing in magic, she knew it was working something out of her … making her look into something she’d rather forget.

Vince puts his arm around Steph. She can’t tell if he means it to be romantic. Sometimes, she thinks he tries to fall in love with her, too. But like her, he just … can’t. They stare at each other awkwardly for a few too many seconds before Vince speaks again.

“Right,” he says, apropos of little. “So. Did the spirit host bring up any of your old memories?”

Steph laughs, but it takes the air right out of her lungs. She wishes the answer was no. But as soon as Vince told her what those spirit hosts were supposed to do, she immediately began to think about the first time she ran into Katie Sheehan at a party … the first time she took Katie Sheehan up to her room … the way they kissed in the wine cellar at the Sheehans’ house on Christmas … the way Steph didn’t know what to do when Katie told her she’d been seeing someone named Kristen pretty steadily for the past few weeks … the way that jealous feeling surprised her. She looks at Vince with nervous eyes.

“I don’t know,” she says.

Vince nods. He doesn’t believe her, but that’s another story.

“I get it,” he says. “They made me think about the time I ripped my pants in fourth-grade gym. I thought I was over that. Turns out … not so much.”

Steph chuckles a little. She almost grabs at Vince’s hand, but it still feels wrong (for both of them). She looks around the room and lets her eyes land on the spirit host once again.

Maybe she ought to think about why she thought about Katie.

But maybe not today.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day xxvi!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: steph armstrong #year: 1988

[thesoulspulse]

Regarding The Veil...

Now that I’ve reached the big reveal in the latest chapter of “Nevermore” about the true power of Necromancers and where it came from I thought I’d simplify the idea to share the lore of it here with you guys! But before we get into it, spoiler warning if you haven’t read this story or the original/old fanfics about Owen, aka “The Grimoire” and “Ravenheart.”

Nevermore: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14102184/1/Nevermore

The Grimoire: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12409238/1/The-Grimoire

Ravenheart: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12742285/1/Ravenheart

Alright, now if you’re sure about this let’s get started!

The basic idea is this:

The Veil, aka what the Ghost Zone was originally called, once overlapped the Earth directly but not many people could perceive ghosts let alone interact with them or vice versa apart from magically gifted or psychic people. So it was more like the classic spirit world we see used in most horror stories where only ghosts with strong emotions or other evil entities could slip through into the real world to cause problems.

Back then, ghosts didn’t have physical forms which means that even moving objects, turning visible, or communicating with anyone in the real world took a lot of energy to do so normally only the most determined ghosts/spirits would bother going through all that trouble unless they REALLY wanted something...

However, long ago Lilith, the Mother of Demons, vowed that if she could not become the divine mother to mankind then she would rule over the dead and made it her personal mission to capture and corrupt as many souls as she could to create Wraiths out of the darkness in their hearts. And since ghosts are typically anchored to the Earth by their unfinished business or feelings of loneliness, hate, sadness, and whatnot they're much more susceptible to her dark magic than the living are in most cases.

That’s why Death made the ultimate sacrifice to stop her once and for all by completely tearing The Veil away from the Earth to protect the spirits of the dead along with the rest of humanity, thus banishing her and her Wraith’s to the void that formed between the two realities. In other words, a realm that came to be known as the Nevermore where neither ghost powers nor human advantages work.

Death used the last of his power to give a select number of humans a portion of his power to help guide ghosts and other spirits which he also gave the means to defend themselves by altering their nature so they could use the raw ecto-energy he unleashed to attack their enemies as well as create new bodies for themselves. Still, almost every ghost still feels a natural pull towards the Earth where remnants of the old Veil remain. Not to mention many of them still feel the need to draw their energy from the living. And lastly, since the Veil was torn away so suddenly, there are places all over the Earth where the barrier between the real world and the Ghost Zone is thin. Especially in haunted places where natural ghost portals often form.

As for the Nevermore, it’s loosely based on Butch’s idea of an Unworld which is the same thing, a void between worlds where ghost powers don’t work and I just renamed it to the Nevermore. And before you ask, this is WAY before the Wednesday show on Netflix was a thing. Owen’s story has a lot of raven symbols which obviously made me think of Edgar Allen Poe’s poems which I’m sure inspired the name of the school in that show too but I digress! Anyways, the point is I thought that’d make a great prison for extremely dangerous creatures of darkness that even ghosts know to fear, aka Lilith and her soul-snatching Wraiths.

It’s extremely rare but sometimes when two large domains collide in the Ghost Zone small portals into the Nevermore can appear through the black hole similar to how natural ghost portals can form on Earth in certain places at random times. That’s why Lilith’s goal is to take over the Ghost Zone first and then unleash her army of Wraiths onto the living world to destroy humanity so that their souls will become her new children as well and she will rule them all as a Goddess of Death. And sadly Owen is the key to making that dream a reality which means she’ll need to bring him under her control first one way or another.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #nevermore #ghost zone #the grimoire #ravenheart #the veil #danny phantom headcanon #spirit world #lilith #Mother of Demons #owen ravenwood #wraiths #necromancer #ectoenergy #ectoplasmic energy #ectoplasm #dark realm #purgatory #folklore #ghost lore #story concept #thesoulspulse #thesoul'spulse #the souls pulse #the soul's pulse

[campgoth]

loetta and/or cricket (i rly like the first name and the second one sounds like a non-binary Choice and i wanna know if i'm right)

I’m gonna do BOTH!! Thanks for sending the asks!

(Please other people do this too, it’s been so fun for me)

(Ask game is to talk about my OC’s. OC’s that haven’t been asked about are Lottie, Fern, Cammy, Kacy, Linna-Zin, Xena, and Bree)

Let’s start with Loetta (my dnd character)

1) Full Name: Loetta Doeson (but technically it’s Aubrey Roe, Loetta is a fake name)

2) Best Friend: Omes (the cleric in our party)

3) Sexuality: Bisexual

4) Favorite Color: Maroon

5) Relationship Status: So so very single (couldn’t let anyone in if she tried)

6) Ideal Mate: she isn’t thinking about that much right now, but probably someone with an investigators spirit, curious and smart, and someone who would would join the sword dance (join in a revenge mission if needed)

7) Turn Ons: Muscles, and a strong will

8) Favorite food: trail mix

9) Crushes: none at the moment (okay lowkey this buff orc that wants to kill the party but that isn’t gonna happen)

10) Favorite Music: Shanty’s

11) Biggest Fear: Dying without ever finding a cure for her disease (she’s slowly being consumed by a carnivorous plant). Sometimes she’s not afraid of death though, sometimes she feels ready. So that or never truly having any close relationships ever again.

12) Biggest Fantasy: Being cured

13) Bad Habits: Secrecy, not trusting friends

14) Biggest Regret: The way Loetta got sick in the first place was by trying a drug in order to get a little extra money she desperately needed. Being a guinea pig. Even though she needed the money, knowing now what it did to her, it’s her biggest regret

15) Best Kept Secrets: Her real name, and the fact that she has a secret underground lab where she grows plants and tries to find a cure for herself.

16) Last Thought: the last thought she had was something along the lines of “wow, I love talking to this tree, it’s really peaceful”

17) Worst Romantic Experience: it’s not like a funny one but probably choosing to have sex with her clothes on because she was afraid the person she was with would see the plants growing in her skin

18) Biggest Insecurity: can I again say the plants growing inside of her? Lol. Probably that, but otherwise, I think sometimes she feels like a selfish person, and that bothers her, but she doesn’t know another way to be.

19) Weapon of Choice: her willingness to die at a moments notice (she’ll do some crazy things in battle, like get willingly stabbed with a harpoon just to pull the chain closer, and thus the person wielding it). Her greatest weapon is her willingness to hurt in order to obtain her goal. Also wolves teeth (she’s a druid)

20) Her parents were here role model, but they’re dead. Now, it’s Archibald. He said worked with her on a ship once, before she got sick, and now they are working together again. He’s like a father figure.

Okay now I will do Cricket! She’s from my book.

1) Full Name: Cricket Hanlon/ Cricket Allan (name changes)

And because you asked, I wanna tell you WHY her name is Cricket. She’s not actually non-binary, her parents named her Cricket. Everyone in the family is named after a different type of animal, and her siblings Lottie and Cammy have full animal names too ;)

2) Best Friend: Her sister Lottie has always been her best friend, but after her disappearance, and some time, her best friend became Martell

3) Sexuality: Bisexual (I don’t think I have any straight characters)

4) Favorite Color: A muted teal/turquoise blue

5) Relationship status: Married! To Martell Allan :))

6) Ideal Mate: An all around partner. An open communicator, a good parent, a total sci-fi nerd, someone she can cry to, someone good in bed, someone supportive of her small business. Martell is perfect.

7) Turn ons: An encyclopedic knowledge of old and long running sci-fi classics, and long hair.

8) Favorite food: does whip cream count?

9) Crushes: Crushin pretty hard on her husband, Martell

10) Favorite Music: Indie-pop

11) Biggest Fear: her daughter suddenly disappearing, like her sister and parent

12) Biggest fantasy: A world where her sister never died. Where they could open their antique store/bakery, like they planned. A world where her best friend didn’t die. A world where she didn’t have to move back home at 19, back to the room they used to share. A world where she could have saved her.

13) Bad Habits: I see cricket as a nail biter

14) Biggest Regret: Lottie dying. She could have prevented it. She’s thought of a million ways she could have prevented it.

15) Best Kept Secrets: Well she’s an alien living on earth and only one person knows so probably that

16) Last Thought: The last moment I’ve written of her is her crying to one of her moms as she realizes Lottie is gone

17) Worst Romance Experience: Probably that girl who didn’t know what Doctor Who was and thought it was a medical show

18) Biggest insecurity: that she’s not helpful enough

19) Weapon of choice: her hope

20) Role Model: I think her role model is probably a fictional character from an old Sci-fi movie that I haven’t figured out yet

Thank you so much for this!!! Feel free to send me more, anyone!!

#asks

[garbagefarm]

Mutucule Farm (#11)

2023-03-03, session #11 of Mutucule Farm!

cast:

me (@mothmute, special friend: Pierre, ugh)

Belle (@snacco, special friend: Evelyn)

Cam (@amanitaspore, special friend: Elliott)

Erin (@salamand3rin, special friend: Caroline)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Pre-session, Belle threatens to keep running counts of deep sighs and times I stop to take notes

I realized that my naming scheme for the chickens was flawed, so I was prepared to sell ‘em and start over fresh until somebody pointed out I could rename them

Previously: Catbird, Bluejay, Heron, and Grackle

Now: Oviraptor, Gallimimus, Baryonyx, and Iguanodon

when we get dinosaurs, we can use the old naming scheme for them

I now have two lists of notes for stardew, “bird names” and “dino names”, and they’d probably confuse some people

Cam is scared of his teeth. Everybody is scared of Cam’s teeth......

Wizard wants void essence. We have plenty, but I go to the mines to collect some fresh. I get stuck at 3, even though I murdered them for their void essence fair and square!

(squares: the most impartial shape)

diagnosed with a terminal case of the tired sleepy

I get level 3 farming! this is a mystery to me, as I haven’t been picking crops. I think this is from petting my birds? (after looking at the wiki, this is likely correct)

Willy supplies us with Copper Pans. I immediately put it on my head, and everybody makes fun of me because they think it looks terrible. They are correct.

Fella’s got the scoop!! (see gallery)

gotta find a flattering angle, maybe use a filter...

Belle wants to fry an egg for The Spirits, and takes more than I’d agreed to >:(

I delve into the mines and get SLAIN BY A SLIME due to Dungeon Floors

It took all my bombs!!!

due to unrelated internet connectivity problems, we restart the day, phew!

Junimos fixing the bus!

Hangin’ out with the boys, the power of ritualistic dance

talkin’ about the wizard bundle. the wundle.

I visit the desert, and couldn’t resist the skull

Erin gets peer-pressured into accepting a cactus seed for her garden pot

Struggling to remember what we were doing, like if the guy from Memento (2000) was playing Stardew Valley

I delve into the mines and get SLAIN BY A SLIME due to Dungeon Floors! Again!!

It took all my bombs!!! Again!!!!

soooo we’re gonna restart this day too, right? haha jk... unless? 😳

(We do not)

Night market is here!!

I pick up a red cabbage for the bundle

I snipe all three original Lupini paintings!

(Erin accuses one of them of being derivative...)

Everybody going to the mermaid show!!

Cam does not want coffee this late at night

Linus memorializing his old friend, the glittering boulder. He’s happy for it moving on.

Linus caught me digging through the trash, and ... Linus is impressed! He even asked if I found anything good!

Erin didn’t make it to bed......

Belle was a Dinosaur Kid (and supplied the bird names, thanks Belle!)

“a lot of them don’t exist anymore, but we had iguanodons”

I thought iguanodons were extinct....

Train!! aaand it’s a passenger train, no loot

Erin wishes we could pull a train heist

Erin gifts me a bunch of cherry bombs to replace some of the bombs I lost in the mines and I am left speechless by this touching gift

Cam already gave me a sword, Belle has catching up to do

My first large egg!

“your first legg!” no, not really

Genie shoes?

putting aside the implications of Stardew Valley’s world containing not just mythological genies but ones real enough to have shoes,

do genies ... wear shoes??

I mean I guess not, that’s how I found ‘em

Winter star “special friend” announcements!!

(list up in the cast)

... goddammit, I got this guy again?? ugh fine this time I’ll get him something he likes. fried calamari, ready to go.

RIP Belle, dead in the mines

Somebody’s been doing something in the greenhouse, but nobody remembers what. Erin’s taking care of it, guess we’ll find out eventually

Surprise, building another barn!! Hog barn!! (someday)

“I’m looking for a hog time, not a long time, if you know what I mean”

“You have a secret note! you should eat it!”

speculating on cask-aged mayonnaise

I realize I’ve been slacking on the romance!!

google dot com “where is penny”

she’s at the playground with the kids

Jas confesses to feeding cows crawdads. They loved it??

Belle announces she has Pompkin. everybody piles in.

next day, the spirits are very displeased. maybe they’re prudes??

We’ve got an ongoing special order to get hardwood for Robin, and then she mails us a request for even more hardwood (that doesn’t count towards the special order)

Belle accuses Erin of illegally parking her horse!

“are you a cop??” “no!” “that sounds like a cop-out”

forgot to mention, I’ve been growing winter seeds to try and keep leveling my foraging.

I ask Belle and Erin to keep watering my horrible winter seeds while I upgrade my watering can

We all take a trip to the desert for a photo-op (see gallery)

I found a golden r’lic! We should start a religion!

I discover a fascinating trick with my terrible hat, which promptly cracks everybody up. (see gallery)

Erin supplies us with greenhouse-fresh strawberries :’)

telling everybody, “I would kill for [my chickens], nevermind that I was gonna sell ‘em.”

End-of-session non-canon day

Erin sells Baphomet!! no!!!

TO-DO:

upgrade barns until pigs arrive

winter star gifts!

pick up my watering can!

backpack upgrades for everybody, whoops

more tool upgrades??

romance???

fruit trees???

(link to photo gallery post, since this was getting pretty long)

#stardew valley #mutucule farm

[relationshipsshrink]

How Do I Tell My Friend I’m Not Okay With Her Relationship With A Married Man?

Today’s Advice Highlights:

Your friend is having an affair with a married man – should you tell her what you really think?

How do you remain friends without feeling like you’re compromising your values?

Dear Dr. Deb.

Once upon a time, my friend Sarah (not her real name) vowed never to get involved with a married man. Imagine my shock when she came to me one day and told me she had, in fact, become that person, and is involved with an older, married man in her office.

I simply can’t make sense of it. Sarah isn’t exactly a free spirit – in fact, she’s very inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships.

Whatever brought this on, she has certainly dug her heels in, rationalizing the relationship, using a tale as old as time: He doesn’t love her/his relationship with his wife is awful/they sleep in separate bedrooms/he can’t divorce her…yet.

Through it all, I haven’t said anything because I’m a big believer of not volunteering advice to someone who didn’t ask for it. The problem is, my friend has asked me that dreaded question: “What do you think?”

It took so much for me not to blurt out my real thoughts (No, no, it is never okay to get involved with a married man). At the same time, my friend is important to me, and I want to be there for her.

I realize that life isn’t as black-and-white, especially when it comes to relationships. But how do I tell her how I feel without alienating her? How do I stay true to my values while helping my friend navigate this difficult situation?

Dr. Deb, is this a time to stick with my friend through thick and thin or should I let her go and learn from her own mistakes?

Sincerely, Tongue-Tied

——————————————————————————————————-

Dear Tongue-Tied,

When I read your letter, my first emotional reaction was like yours: No — just no, no exceptions – to cheating and infidelity.

It also made me question whether I could give reliable and balanced advice when it comes to this situation. It’s tough not to feel triggered when I’ve been on the other end of the equation, the one who was cheated on. Decades ago, my husband and his female colleague began an affair that ended up destroying our marriage and tearing apart our family.

It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced – I was convinced I would die of a broken heart. I’m saying this because the way your friend Sarah rationalized the affair, it’s clear that she thinks no one else is affected by their actions except herself and her married boyfriend.

You mentioned that Sarah has rattled off excuses which sound like a “tale as old as time.” The sad part is that how their affair started is probably equally as old and cliché: the usual office attraction and initial chemistry, bonding over coffee, lunch, then dinners, eventually progressing into a whirlwind romantic relationship for all the wrong reasons.

Through all of this, I can’t help but feel for Sarah. The married man is older and is more experienced than her. I’m assuming the power dynamic isn’t equal in the office, and that he has power over her as a superior. There are so many red flags in this picture that I can’t imagine a version where your friend ends up happy.

It seems likely that Sarah has become an easy target for a man wanting to cheat without consequences, someone he can control and leave once it stops being “fun.”

Sarah does need your friendship now, more than ever. But the best way you can be a friend to her is by being honest about how you feel. The big caveat is you need to be as kind as you can while telling your friend things that she’s probably not ready to hear.

Tell her that you support her, but you can’t lie to her, either – that’s something she can truly rely on when things become difficult. Your biggest role is to gently, but firmly, remind her that she has a choice. No matter how strong her feelings are for the married man, she always has a choice about the relationship.

There are many reasons why people have affairs; an insatiable need for attention, a dying relationship, the illusive hope created by the promise of love, the thrill of being more “special” than one’s spouse. I can intellectually understand cheating, but emotionally, there’s no way to condone it. At the end of the day, everybody loses when it comes to infidelity.

We’ve all been guilty of making poor decisions at one point or another. Personally, I have found it comforting to know that the people who care about me loved me through my foolishness. You can love Sarah, lend her a listening ear without validating her decision. Remind Sarah of who she was before she had this affair: your wonderful friend who had strong values against infidelity and cheating.

Sincerely, Dr. Deb

Do you have a burning question — Your comments in response to a column are welcome. ​I will do my best to answer as many of your questions as I can.

Click here to send your question.

#Advice #Expert #Friends #Married #Relationships

[canarydraws]

I recently got the chance to design two characters for an original story I’m writing in one of my classes!

The first is our adventurous protagonist! And the second is one of 4 elemental spirits that guid the life forces of the valley our protagonist calls home. I share more about their story on my Instagram so feel free to check there for more info! I’m @ eriecanary over there

#art #digital art #original story #oc #I’m thinking of naming the protagonist something that starts with a k or c #and the spirits are so old I haven’t really thought about a real name for any of them either #I’m thinking giving them titles instead might help them feel grand #to remind you of the power they once wielded long ago

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Introduces his Jedi Babies (and Himself)

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Warnings for: canon-typical dismemberment, unfortunately-aimed puppy crushes

Word count: 5,839

-------------------------

The first time a Jedi meets a Skywalker, it’s on Bandomeer.

The planet is close to Mandalorian space. Finding someone associated with Mandalore is, technically, not that surprising. There are even Mandalorian operations on the planet.

What is surprising is the fact that the person from Mandalorian space is an unfamiliar Jedi Knight who is utterly unstoppable.

(Obi-Wan Kenobi has no way of knowing how similar his experiences are to what might have been, on this planet. Mandalore has been interfering in operations here ever since Ylliben Skywalker started reporting visions about the coming catastrophe. Where that interference has helped or hurt... well. There’s no way to know.)

(Is there?)

When Xanatos shows up and starts taunting Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, there’s a giggle from the doorway.

All three have to turn to look at the individual in question.

Mid-twenties, leaning against the doorframe, slim but strong, covered in dark fabric and half a set of armor. A scar by one eye, well-kept hair, and a smirk that could burn the longest fuse. A lightsaber, unlit, in one gloved hand.

This man is... very attractive, Obi-Wan thinks. This is not an appropriate thought for the situation. Obi-Wan thinks he can maybe blame it on the exhaustion.

“No, no, keep going,” the stranger says, sounding like there’s a laugh stuck in his throat. He waves dismissively. “Let’s, ah, let’s hear the master plan. Good ranting voice, maybe a six out of ten on the ‘I’m better than you’ and a four on the actual intimidation. You can do better.”

“Excuse me?” Xanatos hisses, sounding incredibly malicious to Obi-Wan’s ears. “Just who do you think you are?”

“And now you’re overselling it,” the stranger sighs. “Are you new at this? You seem new at this.”

“I would... also like to know who you are,” Master Jinn admits, shifting uncertainly as he tries to keep both du Crion and the stranger in his sights.

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jedi Knight, here to fight darksiders because... that’s my life, apparently,” the man says, looking down at his arm for some reason. He shakes his head and looks up at them with a bright grin. “Do you need some help, Master Jinn?”

“You still haven’t told us your name.”

“This is true,” the knight says. “That said, I’ve been told by my boss to explicitly avoid naming myself while on this mission for a variety of reasons.”

“Your... boss,” du Crion drawls. “Not the Council, then.”

“Current supervisor,” the stranger offers as correction, completely unconcerned. “It’s a complicated situation, don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t worry about nonentities.”

The man purses his lips like he’s trying very, very hard not to laugh again. It’s very mocking. “Sure, kid.”

Xanatos has had his lightsaber out ever since Obi-Wan and Master Jinn entered the room, but he does one of those fancy, meant-to-be-intimidating one-handed saber twirls as he turns to face the Knight.

The man’s smirk widens. “You do realize you’re going to lose, right? C’mon, kid--”

“I’m older than you!”

“I did like zero research on you as a person, just your many and varied crimes; how old are you?”

Du Crion’s face goes pinched. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Ah, yeah, no, I’m older,” the knight says. “Only a few years, but I’m also a delightfully obnoxious little bastard who ages real slow for, uh, reasons--”

Obi-Wan is fascinated. This man is very strange. And very pretty.

Obi-Wan may be light-headed. Is he bleeding? Blood loss would explain this.

Obi-Wan isn’t bleeding. Damn.

“--anyway, I’m sure I’ve got a more interesting life with more mature experiences than you,” the knight says. “So even if I wasn’t older in body, I’d be older in spirit.”

The knight’s entire sense of being carries such an air of banthashit that Obi-Wan can barely believe it. It’s almost impressive. Obi-Wan wonders how often this man just opens his mouth and immediately gets punched in the face.

“You talk a lot for a man in someone else’s domain.”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” the knight says. “At least I’m not flirting with you. That’s what my master did with almost every darksider we met except his grandmaster.”

Du Crion pauses.

Obi-Wan has the distinct feeling that he and Master Jinn have lost any control they might have, at any point, had over this situation. They hadn’t had much control in the first place, but anything they did have is squarely in the stranger’s court right now. The silver lining to that is that du Crion is thoroughly distracted and has also lost some control of the situation.

“Besides,” the man continues, completely ignoring the very red lightsaber that is being very obviously readied for his death. “This is not that big of an advantage for you. I mean, hey, the fancy central console that can only be reached by skinny walkways with no railings are a nice touch, all chromed metal and minimal lighting, very dramatic, but there’s no lava. I’m not, like, chained to a rock in the middle of an arena for a public execution at the hands of starving animals the size of a fighter ship. You’re threatening to kill me personally instead of standing in the most expensive box of the theater, sipping your wine and congratulating yourself on step one of a plan that has another fifty-thousand steps and no end in sight. You--”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been in worse situations by better darksiders than you. This is sad. You’re sad. Try harder.”

Obi-Wan makes a little noise in the back of his throat. Nobody seems to notice, but Master Jinn does put a hand on his shoulder. That’s nice.

“I don’t have any interest in setting up a public execution.”

“What kind of a Sith wannabe are you?” the knight asks, tilting his head. Obi-Wan distantly notes that his hair is longer than initially assumed; it’s just held back and curled. “Public executions are a whole thing. It’s like you’re not even trying. Tell me you’ve at least got vague plans to hand me off to a pirates instead of killing me so you can make some comment about me not even being worth the effort.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” du Crion asks, his voice the kind of forced casual level nonsense that shows he’s actually very, very frustrated. Obi-Wan could almost believe that du Crion is as uninterested as he’s pretending to be.

“If I was trying to get myself killed, I’d... pick a fight with the Trade Federation, maybe? I mean, I survived that when I was nine but they’d probably take me more seriously this time.” The knight taps at his chin. “I don’t even know where the actual Sith is, but--”

“There are no more Sith,” du Crion scoffs.

Oh, the knight looks pitying now. Obi-Wan likes that much more than he should. It just really suits the man’s face.

Quin’s going to make so much fun of him later.

“I have fought multiple Sith,” the man says, slowly and clearly, as though explaining something to a child. “My master fought more than that. I lost my arm to a Sith when I was nineteen. You can say they’re gone, but I don’t trust like that.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” du Crion says, rolling his eyes. “It has been a thousand years since the Sith were wiped out. Much as I’d like them to still be around, I’m not going to--”

“Oh!” the knight exclaims. “You’re lying! You do think they’re back, this whole mess is you auditioning.”

Du Crion stares at the man as though he’s lost what few marbles he had. “Excuse me?”

“You want to be the next Sith Apprentice,” the man says, cheerfully unconcerned by the mounting tension in the air. “That’s adorable. Well, no, actually, it’s very bad, both for you and for everyone else, and now it means I can’t just kill you in battle like I was planning because the Jedi are going to need you for information. Blast.”

Du Crion’s eyes widen. It is not in fear, but in incredulity. Obi-Wan thinks that it’s all in the eyebrows and the tight, befuddled smile. “You were planning to kill me, Jedi?”

“I mean... yeah, kinda,” the knight says, shrugging. “Quick and clean option, that.”

This time, Master Jinn is the one that makes a disbelieving noise that both of the bitchy twenty-somethings ignore.

“You’re a Jedi,” du Crion points out, entirely pleasant.

“...yes,” the man says, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Technically.”

Du Crion is very much distracted by this. “Technically?”

The man wiggles a hand. “Arguments can be made. I certainly was trained as a Jedi and consider myself to be one. My knighting was according to protocol, and at the Temple. Technically.”

“...but?” Master Jinn prompts.

The knight smiles like he’s got something very spicy in his mouth and is unwilling to admit it’s too much for him. “But nothing! Don’t worry about it. There’s a fight to be had with a Sith wannabe who doesn’t realize he’s not going to measure up.”

“Arrogant,” du Crion accuses.

“No,” the knight immediately says. “You just don’t fight a galactic war without learning which opponents are actually going to kill you.”

Obi-Wan leans into Master Jinn’s side, his legs feeling a little too much like jelly. He whispers, “I have so many questions.”

“As do I, Padawan,” Master Jinn mutters back, and something in Obi-Wan’s heart twists. He’s a padawan! Master Jinn’s actually going to go through with it!

The fight does actually happen, at that point. The knight lights his saber and leaps forward, flashing through Djem So movements without a moment’s hesitation. For all the trash talk and boasting, the fight isn’t actually over very quickly. Du Crion is good, even without having had a chance to spar against a real person since he left the Order. Power flows around him, dark and heavy and sharp in ways that the Force usually isn’t, and the red saber snaps through the air with a speed Obi-Wan can barely track. Xanatos du Crion is, without question, danger incarnate in this moment.

The unknown knight is better.

There are attempts at banter, mostly by the stranger. Du Crion is too focused on the fight to bother responding. Obi-Wan just clings to Master Jinn, trying to stay awake and aware. It’s difficult, given the past few days, and even with help from the Force, he’s flagging.

The way the knight moves is... captivating, though.

(Quinlan’s going to laugh at the top of his lungs, later. Obi-Wan’s going to blush and stutter and bury his face in a pillow, and Bant’s going to pat his back like the amazing friend she is, and Quin’s just going to laugh, like an asshole.)

The fight doesn’t end cleanly. The knight cuts du Crion’s saber in half and, in the same movement, cuts the man’s hand off.

Obi-Wan’s seen too much blood in the last few days for it to shock him, but the smell is... unpleasant.

“I don’t suppose either of you carries Force-nullifying cuffs?” the knight asks, holding his saber to du Crion’s neck with an expression that is amused and satisfied in equal measure.

“No,” Master Jinn says. He seems... very bothered. Well, du Crion was his student once. Obi-Wan can’t imagine he’d be very calm if he had a student that went dark and started killing children. “Was cutting off his hand really necessary?”

“I feel like half my fights end with either someone dying or someone losing a limb,” the knight muses. “Sometimes that limb is my own, even!”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure if the man is manic or just trying to throw them off their rhythm. It probably doesn’t matter.

“Okay, I have Force-nullifying cuffs of my own,” the man says. “But these things are expensive as hell, and they weren’t paid for by the Order, so just giving them to you isn’t really on the table. That said... my ship kind of got shot down on the way here. If you could give me a ride off-planet--”

“Our ship was also shot down.”

The knight blinks at him, and then kicks du Crion in the hamstring. It’s not a very hard kick, but du Crion shoots him a look of offense that’s probably justified. Getting kicked when one is already down is never a great feeling.

“Stop shooting people,” the knight scolds.

Obi-Wan feels vaguely like he’s having a fever dream.

“Okay, new plan,” the man says. “What kind of ship did you come in?”

“KYL-3400 small transport,” Master Jinn says, with not a little hesitation. “Why?”

The knight grins. “I’m going to cannibalize it for parts.”

-------------------------

Jango has known Anakin Skywalker for six years. Many of those years have been spent being yanked into babysitting for the man. For reasons Jango doesn’t feel like examining, this will likely continue.

“You’re late,” he says, as the man in question stumbles out of a battered ship that looks only barely like the one that left three months ago. “I thought you said Bandomeer was a quick fix.”

“Ship got shot down, had to help some Jedi, ran into fucking Onaka on the way back,” Skywalker grouses. “I feel like shit. Where are my kids?”

“Buir says you have to go to medical.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. My kids, Jango.”

“They can visit you in medical.”

“And, what, Mereel’s gonna go there for a debrief?”

“Your debrief is going through me,” Jango says, and doesn’t let himself flinch when Skywalker makes a face. “He’ll check in later.”

“Yeah, no,” Skywalker says, taking a step forward and then swaying with a curse. “Listen, this actually does need to go to Mand’alor direct, not just the Alor-in-training--”

“Please don’t do that with my language,” Jango immediately says. “That’s not--no. ‘Alor-in-training’ isn’t a thing. Don’t do that.”

Skywalker turns on his heel with a frustrated snarl, and Jango’s eyes widen as the stupid tunics the man wears flare out.

“Is that a blaster wound?”

“No.”

“Yes it--for fuck’s sake, Skywalker!” Jango growls and just goes over to grab the taller man by the shoulders and march him to medical. “I’m calling your sister.”

“Don’t tell Shmi, she’s got enough to--”

“I’m calling your sister,” Jango snaps. “And you’re going to deal with it. Ka’ra, do you even think? Is there a brain in that head of yours?”

“I’ve been told my braincell is lonely.”

“I’m going to shove you in a trash compactor, dikut’la jetii,” Jango mutters. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“If I say yes, will you let me go deal with it on my own?”

Jango strangles his own scream and shoves Skywalker into the nearest examination room. “Fix him!”

The medic looks up, raises a brow, and turns to Skywalker. “What did you do?”

“What didn’t I do?” Skywalker shoots back, grinning like they’re sharing battle stories over a drink in a cantina.

The medic--Mirka’lu, he thinks--crosses her arms. “General.”

Oh man, the medics must be angry with him already if they’re already jumping titles like that.

“I’m just a knight--”

“General Skywalker.”

The man in question grimaces. “I maybe got shot during an altercation with some pirates.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And... I maybe--maybe--picked a fight with some Hutt enforcers.”

Jango’s going to wring his neck.

Right after he calls Shmi.

-------------------------

Komari does her level best to not shift nervously under the judgmental eyes of the man they’re pretty sure is the Mand’alor. Her master’s got the situation under control. She’s just there to observe. They’ve got an entire team--

“Is that your way of telling me that your Order did minimal research on the situation before coming to intervene, and the only reason you bothered to reach out is because one of my men, weeks ago, let you know that Death Watch is setting traps for both my people and yours?”

Komari feels the flare of annoyance from Master Dooku. She doesn’t react, but she can hear the tension when her Master speaks.

“I assure we would not have attacked on Galidraan unless attacked first, or if we’d found solid evidence of the actions we were informed of,” Master Dooku says, quiet and even. “All your messenger did was save us all a little time.”

Mereel smiles thinly. “Saved us all some lives, more like it.”

“Perhaps.”

“Ah, jetiise aren’t the only ones with Force-Sensitives,” the Mand’alor says. “I’ve more than a few under my command. Visions aren’t foolproof, I’m aware, but I’ll be damned if such a warning goes completely ignored.”

Master Dooku makes a low humming noise. “Be that as it may, I’m unsure of what it is that you’re expecting out of our... presence. We are not here to help you claim your presumed throne. We are only here to stop the killings we were told about.”

“I don’t need your help to reunite my people.” Mereel waves a hand, batting the mere suggestion away. “But I’d appreciate the help with taking out the terrorist group that’s actually going out and murdering the helpless, this planet’s farmers and doctors and children. Kyr’tsad isn’t just a thorn in my side, Master Jedi.”

“And what proof do I have that you aren’t just the same kind of monster as you claim they are?” Master Dooku challenges.

It’s a little brazen, considering how dicey these negotiations are. For all that Komari herself doesn’t wince, someone behind her outright hisses in dismay. She agrees with the sentiment.

Mereel just laughs at them. He catches the eye of one of the armored individuals along the wall, human or close to it, and nods to himself.

“Right,” the man says. “Well, we have our own Jedi. Would you like to meet him?”

Master Dooku is immobile, as if carved from stone. The rest of the group is... not.

“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Master Dooku says, and Komari feels the tension in him wind further through the training bond. There are a million questions to be had here. None of them can be answered without the supposed Jedi.

“Great,” the Mand’alor says. He leans back in his seat and turns to the door. With the press of a button, the door slides open. “Ben!”

A child darts into the room, stops, and bounces on their feet. Probably male, Komari thinks, and very anxious. The child’s eyes dart about the room, taking in every single Jedi in sight. When that gaze lands on Master Dooku, there’s a flash of recognition and... not hate, but distaste. Confused and distant dismay, maybe. The child turns back to Mereel.

“Mand’alor,” the child greets, still bouncing. “Am I needed?”

“Thought I told you this meeting was for grown-ups,” the Mand’alor says.

Ben shrugs. “I wanted to listen in.”

“That door is soundproofed and you know it.”

“So?”

The Mand’alor grins. “Do me a favor and go fetch your dad.”

“Buir’s still sleeping,” Ben says, grave as dirt. It’s a strange expression for such a small child. He can’t be older than eight, and Komari’s pretty sure even that’s a stretch. “Shmi’s gonna be mad if he has to wake up before the bacta’s done.”

“I just need him for negotiations,” Mereel assures the child.

“Aggressive negotiations with a lightsaber?” Ben asks, and Komari nearly chokes.

“No, just regular ones.”

Ben nods sharply, and then turns and runs out.

“That boy...” Mereel mutters, but it’s fond. “Anywa--”

“BUIR!” Ben’s voice echoes from the hall, faint but audible, along with some very loud banging on what is presumably a door. “DAD! WAKE UP, THE COUNT IS HERE!”

The Count? Komari wonders. Even Master Dooku seems surprised.

The question is clearly on more minds than just her own. Mereel raises a brow at Master Dooku and gestures vaguely. “Didn’t know any of you were nobility. You a Count, Master Jedi?”

“No,” Master Dooku says, and before the Mand’alor can press further, he adds, “but if I were to retire from the Order, the title would be mine to inherit. As I have no intentions of retiring, I am not and will not be a Count, but I assume that is what the child is referring to.”

“Ben,” the Mand’alor corrects. He seems pleased with the reasonable answer. “Ylliben Skywalker. I suggest you refer to him by name.”

“You have a fondness for him,” Master Dooku notes.

Mereel shrugs. “No more than any other child, objectively, but his father is one of my more effective allies, and he gets antsy about things. Saying ‘your child’ won’t be a problem, but ‘the child’ is... well.”

The smirk is a challenge that Komari doesn’t feel ready to meet. She’s glad it’s not hers to handle.

“Why do you ‘have’ a Jedi?” Master Dooku asks, pushing the conversation back to the point Komari’s sure he was initially aiming for.

“Found him in a snowstorm, brought him inside,” Mereel says, grinning. “And then he refused to leave, the shabuir. Troublesome man, like you wouldn’t believe, but useful.”

“Like a feral tooka,” someone behind Komari mutters. She feels a part of her soul die.

You can’t just say that in front of the Mand’alor! she screeches in the depths of her mind, despairing.

“Exactly,” Mereel agrees with a laugh. “Skywalker’s a feral tooka.”

Komari dies a little more.

“Talkin’ shit about me, Mereel?”

...oh no.

This one’s pretty.

The man is tall, dressed almost entirely in black, and looks like shit.

“You look like you got run over by a herd of bantha,” the Mand’alor notes.

“I got back less than a day ago,” Skywalker growls out. He leans against the wall behind the Mand’alor’s desk. He folds his arms. He glowers around the room. “The kriff is Count Dooku doing here?”

“Master Dooku,” the man in question says, a little pained. “As I informed Mand’alor Mereel, I may technically have claim to that title, but I am a Jedi. So long as I remain a Jedi, the title isn’t actually mine.”

Skywalker makes a face, and then shakes his head. “Fine. Whatever. Jaster, what the hell do you need from me?”

“Well, some manners would be nice.”

“I got shot and am putting myself in a position to get yelled at by baar’ur Mirka’lu for coming here when I’m supposed to be on bed rest,” Skywalker growls out. He kicks Mereel’s chair, glaring at the back of the man’s head. “You’re lucky I put on pants.”

Mereel seems unbothered by this statement or treatment.

Komari thinks her eyes may currently be the size of dinner plates.

“You’re the one from Bandomeer.”

Skywalker’s head snaps up to focus his gaze on Master Dooku. “Say what?”

“You’re the one my former Padawan encountered on Bandomeer,” Master Dooku says, something satisfied in his tone. “He said you refused to give a name, but the physical description does match.”

“Oh, lovely, Jinn’s been gossiping,” Skywalker mutters. “That’s just--”

“General Skywalker,” Mereel says, voice finally slipping to something more stern than amused. “If you could please focus.”

Skywalker rolls his eyes and mutters something about painkillers.

“Buir?”

Skywalker’s head tilts to the side, and he holds one arm out to the side. The kid from before--Ben--darts in to cling to the man’s side. A slightly taller Togruta follows in and ducks in under his other arm. Both children keep a wary gaze fixed on the same person, and their adult...

Every look from this man is a new challenge to Master Dooku.

“They’re yours?”

That is the exact question Komari was hoping her master wouldn’t ask.

“We’re in Mandalorian territory,” Skywalker says. “They’re Force-Sensitive orphans with an incredible amount of potential. If I didn’t claim them, someone else would have.”

It’s not an airtight justification--the man could have just sent them to the Temple--but the air around him is roiling with aggression. This man does not like Master Dooku, and is more than a shade protective of these--his--children. Komari shifts her weight and worries as the pregnant silence grows heavier.

“As you say,” Master Dooku allows, and some of the bowstring-tight tension in the room loosens, drains away like foul bathwater. “If I may... I was unaware you were a General, nor that Mandalore had a standing army large enough for such a position.”

“He’s not,” Mereel says. “Used to be, won’t tell me where. It’s not my business, or yours. Title’s a holdover from whatever war he was fighting before we got him.”

Komari is not the only person whose heart drops as Master Dooku says, “Qui-Gon claimed that the rogue knight he’d met on Bandomeer mentioned a galactic war against the Sith.”

Mereel blinks, and then turns his seat around to look at Skywalker. The other Mandalorians look at Skywalker. Every single Jedi also looks at Skywalker.

The Togruta child sticks her tongue out at Master Dooku.

“I did say that,” Skywalker says. “What of it?”

“You know, when I said I didn’t care what fight you were running that turned you into a soldier, I kind of assumed it was something on the level of, say, a system-wide civil war,” Mereel drawls. “Not galactic Force nonsense.”

Skywalker shrugs. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

“Because you’ll lie?”

“No, I’m just going to be really annoying about it,” Skywalker tells him. The Togruta giggles and shoves her face into his side. “Or, hell, I’ll let Ben do it. We both know he can talk circles around basically everyone in this room.”

“Skywalker.”

“Mereel.”

The two hold gazes for a moment that lasts just a little too long, and then Mereel breaks it off. “We’re talking about this later.”

“Of course, Mand’alor,” Skywalker says, with a grim sort of smile. “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

Mereel doesn’t seem particularly impressed by that.

Komari wonders if anyone else remembers that Skywalker was supposed to be here to make negotiations easier.

-------------------------

Yan Dooku is having a Day.

He’s not entirely sure whom to blame for this mess. Perhaps Yoda, for suggesting he handle this mission. Perhaps the governor of Galidraan, who decided collaborating with terrorists for his own gain was a good idea. Perhaps Jaster Mereel, whose influence and power is enough that Yan needs to tread carefully. Perhaps Qui-Gon, for giving him just enough information about Skywalker to cause some drama.

Perhaps Skywalker for being a recalcitrant, ornery bastard who delights in Yan’s suffering.

(One of the Mandalorians calls him that to his face, and Skywalker informs the man that “my mother always told me I didn’t have a father,” and stares until the Mando stammers out an apology and turns on his heel.)

(The smirk on Skywalker’s face is certainly informative.)

“Hi.”

Yan looks up from the datapad he’s been using to try and punch out a report, for all that he can’t find the words he needs, and sees the Togruta youngling from Skywalker’s side hanging upside-down from a ventilation grate.

He blinks evenly at her. “Good afternoon. Is that your normal manner of traversing the building?”

“Yeah, when Jan-Jan isn’t yelling at me about it,” she says, and drops from the ceiling. Seemingly without paying attention, she directs the grate itself back into place with the Force, screws reattaching themselves with only the slightest whisper. She’s done this many, many times.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”

“Jango Fett,” she clarifies. “Ad be Mand’alor.”

Child of the king.

He does remember that much from the briefing.

“I see,” Yan says, rather than try to tackle whatever the usage of such a nickname implies. “I’m afraid nobody’s seen fit to introduce you, youngling.”

“I’m Sokanth Skywalker, but most people call me Soka,” she says, with a bouncing, shallow bow. Full of energy, this one. “I’m eight.”

“The General is your father, then?”

“Mm-hm! He adopted me when I was almost two,” she says, and climbs up onto the bench. She wraps her arms around her knees and beams up. “Ben was still a baby, and we didn’t go get Shmi until a few months later when Skyguy could afford it.”

“Skyguy?” Yan prompts.

“My dad,” she explains, head tilting a little as she studies his reaction. “I... I’ve always called him Skyguy. He took care of me before he adopted me, for at least a year. He says I called him Skyguy when I first started talking, back then, and then he didn’t make me stop when he adopted me.”

“I see,” Yan says. “Does your father know you’re speaking with me?”

“Probably.”

“And would he approve?” Yan hints as heavily as he can. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“That’s because we’ve all seen what you could be,” she says. “But you’re not the Count yet, so it’s okay.”

Information. “Ah. Visions, then. That would explain some things.”

“Ben gets them the most,” she keeps talking. “But it’s not just that. It’s like... patterns. The Sith are going to target you, because they’re going to think you’re worth corrupting.”

“And you’ve seen enough Sith to know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Visions are not foolproof,” he says, trying to keep his tone gentle. He’s not used to interacting with children of this age, and this one comes with a father in the Mand’alor’s confidence, someone he can’t afford to irritate by making a daughter cry. “I have a friend who is very prone to visions, and some come true, some don’t, and others--”

“Are self-fulfilling,” Sokanth finishes for him. “I know that. But my dad’s actually fought Sith, y’know. The guy who cut off my dad’s arm used to be a Jedi Master, like you, and he was all fancy-schmancy and a history nerd for Sith stuff, and didn’t like the Council or their decisions very much. Like you.”

That’s... very personal.

“A surface-level similarity is not enough to make the claim that I am to become a Sith,” he says.

She blinks at him, eyes too large for a face that’s so near to human in bone-structure. It’s unnerving. “Whether or not you Fall is your choice, Count. All I can tell you is that you are the kind of person they look to groom... if only as a pawn.”

The words are too old for a girl her size.

“You speak as if you’ve faced the Sith yourself,” Yan says, well aware now that he needs to tread carefully, but... “You’re too young to go out into the field. I can’t imagine your father would allow a child like yourself to go up against someone that dangerous.”

She blinks those too large eyes, and tilts her head in the other direction, and then smiles. “You care. That’s good. Keep that compassion, Count.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I feel like you’re evading the question.”

Sokanth giggles. “Maybe. Buir doesn’t like us talking about it much. It makes him sad, ‘cuz he can’t help us not hurt, and a lot of it is really scary. It’s like... my memories are too big for my head. I don’t get a lot of visions, but I get a lot of dreams of things that happened that I’m not alive for. And buir does remember those things happening, so it’s true, and it happened, but I only... sort of remember it, and when I think about it too hard, it hurts my head. Or I get nightmares about it, and I don’t like those. Ben’s got it worse, though. He has more to fight.”

It’s a lot of information.

It’s confusing information.

It’s... possibly information that the General has asked her to feed him for reasons he can’t even begin to guess at.

“In this war your father fought,” Yan asks, “were you a soldier as well?”

“Commander,” she corrects, voice soft. “That’s what the dreams call me, before they start screaming.”

“How old are you really?” He asks, before he can quite stop himself.

She laughs, suddenly bright again. “I’m as old as I look. I’m eight. Just because the Force gives me memories I shouldn’t have doesn’t mean that my brain isn’t a kid. Sometimes Ben tries to act older than he is ‘cuz of the memories, y’know. Buir gets sad whenever he does that, ‘cuz he thinks we deserve to be kids before the galaxy goes to hell again.”

“He’s sure of such a thing?”

“It always does,” she says, with the air of someone who isn’t sure how their conversation partner could be quite that dense. Her voice takes on a sing-song cadence, like she’s telling a fable instead of a philosophy. “War always comes eventually. Not every sentient is selfish, but enough are, and they tend to be the ones that claw their way to the top. The rich and powerful will take and take and take, and then, when there’s nothing left, they will use their living stepping stones to tear each other apart. All we can do is be ready to end it as quickly as possible once it comes.”

Yan lets the claim sit for a long, quiet minute. “Did your father tell you that?”

“No,” she says. “Ben did.”

The six-year-old.

“He has a way with words,” Yan manages.

“Sometimes he uses his stuffed animals to host courtroom dramas,” she says. “He makes me look up the right laws so it can be procedurally accurate, ‘cuz he’s a nerd but so am I, and it makes Skyguy happy when he sees us playing like that instead of just doing saber forms and stuff.”

Yan has... no idea what to do with that. “I wouldn’t normally call courtroom dramas a normal children’s activity.”

“Yeah, but Ben’s a nerd,” she says, as if that’s all that needs to be said. Maybe, for her, it is. “And there’s only so much time I’m allowed to spend hunting.”

Right. Togruta.

“And what was your father doing at that age?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about that,” she says immediately. “Because it’s very private and he and Shmi get upset if we bring it up, ‘cuz of trauma and stuff.”

Shmi. The... sister, he thinks. People seem to be unclear on that. He’s heard a few refer to the teenager as just “one of Skywalker’s,” so that’s something to consider. She’s near-perfectly halfway between the children and the General, in terms of age, so it’s a little ambiguous where she fits.

That said, he’s been in a lot of places in his time as a Jedi Master. It’s taken him a little longer than it should have to realize, but he thinks he’s got at least part of the puzzle.

Skywalker’s a slave name. Tatooine, specifically.

It’s not confirmation, really, but...

Well. He thinks it’s better he doesn’t dig, on that subject.

“Hey,” Sokanth says, tugging at his sleeve. “Can I ask ya something?”

“I cannot promise an answer, but you may ask.”

“Can you spar with Skyguy? I wanna see who wins.”

#Disaster Lineage #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Obi Wan Kenobi #Qui Gon Jinn #Count Dooku #Yan Dooku #Ben Kenobi #Jaster Mereel #Xanatos du Crion #Jango Fett #Komari Vosa #time travel #de aging #age shifting #family #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #500 notes

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Constantine: His Rogues Gallery includes Minor Gods! What is wrong with you people?! // Danny: What do you mean? I don't fight Minor Go- *(thinks about Undergrowth, Vortex, and Nocturne)* Okay so I see where you're coming from. But I'm sure you guys have dealt with the type before and tbh Undergrowth just can't handle the cold. So just get a Freeze Ray or get Superman to breathe on him and everything'll be good.

I actually haven't really thought much about the concept of his enemies being minor gods but like you right they are

even if only by legend, the ghost zone is full of natural portals that open up into different time periods, these ghosts may not even be as old as the legends about them are, they've just jumped through enough portals and wreaked enough havoc to make names for themselves among a variety of cultures, they may have even changed forms a few times (as we know ghosts can sometimes do) which gave people the impression that they were different gods

not to mention some of the ghosts were ripped directly out of mythology, Pandora for one, her legend is way different from the real thing, likely due to history's classic game of telephone fucking everything up

then there's the question of if they are actually literal gods or were just mistaken for them, ghosts born from the dead are different than ghosts born of the ghost zone

I like to adopt the concept of poltergeists, spirits created from an amalgamation of emotion verses the independent soul/spirit/personality of someone who died

so the Far Frozen in my eyes was a civilisation created by the collection of human curiosity, they are essentially knowledge spirits who have grown their own culture, there are many of them due to scholars and education systems often relying on the experiences of many, teaching each other and engaging in discussion in order to understand things better, there are likely many different yetis with different specific interests, new yetis coming into being when more humans discover new things, they could all be considered minor gods based on their individual interests, and many have likely travelled through portals in an opportunistic field trip to learn, and due to their appearance and seemingly omniscient knowledge, have been associated as a god of their particular field of study

Undergrowth I like to imagine is a new spirit, born only recently with the rise of general frustration and anger by current generations over the destruction of the planet's environment and ecosystems, he is an amalgamation of the energy that would be produced at climate rallies and protests

Nocturne is also born of a combined human experience, that of course being dreams, he is probably one of the oldest spirits in human existence, his journeys in and out of natural portals would have inspired legends like that of the sandman and the greek god Morpheus, his recent rise to power may have been caused by a gradual incline of insomnia among people, the more desperation for sleep feeding into Nocturne's drastic behaviour

Vortex was also likely to be an old god, born of a time when people believed the weather to be made by gods and not simply a natural event, he's one I like to think has changed appearance many times over the years, he has hopped back and forth through portals, and his personality changes like the weather (ha ha) depending on the people who would pray to him and give offerings for rain to water their crops, in which case he would come and bring rain because it's what people believe he will do, or when an extreme natural weather event happens and people believe the gods to be angry and vengeful, in which case he would become angry and vengeful, in his episode during the show, I believe he showed up destructive because there had been a recent natural disaster somewhere in the world where the culture believed their god to be responsible, it wouldn't matter which god, Vortex would always be the one to embody that belief, as long it was associated with the weather

so I think it would be apt to refer to these native born ghosts created by pieces of human consciousness as minor gods, as they cannot truly be destroyed unless humans as a whole stopped feeling or thinking or believing in whatever initially created them, Nocturne cannot be permanently destroyed because people will always dream, Undergrowth can't be destroyed as long as people still feel fury over the destruction of the environment, but his behaviour could be altered if humans became more sustainable in the future and the general frustration and anger over environmental destruction waned, Vortex may actually have lost much of his power over time as fewer and fewer people blamed gods or spirits for the weather, if that belief ever disappeared entirely, so would he

even regular human born ghosts could even reach minor god status if they become a known figure, Pandora may have been human once, but in death became famous from her legend (inaccurate though it has become), and as a result became quite powerful, I also think she represents more than one deity, I think she likely also is believed to be the goddess Soteria (greek goddess of protection and safety, due to her role as the guardian of the Box), and so that belief also fuels her power, despite humanity believing those two identities to be seperate beings, however I don't believe she would be susceptible to a change in personality like natural born deities are since she already had a personality and a sense of identity to begin with, but her abilities and the power she wields may be altered by public perception

and to leap off of THAT point, we reach the idea that Danny is a very famously known ghost that many people believe in, many people love him, like Pandora he is a protector and a guardian, and so his ability to protect is boosted by that, much like a deity who is powered by worship, he himself has inadvertently become a minor god

and he also happens to be close friends with a MAJOR God, a God with a capital G, one who has existed before humans, existed before earth, he gained a physical manifestation as humans began to understand time as a concept, this, of course, being Clockwork, who happens to be responsible for every minor god's interaction with the human world because he controls the time periods in which the natural portals open, hence why so many portals were opening in ancient greece, because Clockwork had determined that their mythology was important to the future for whatever reason, I mean greek myths are still well known by today's standards and that must have been important enough for Clockwork to ensure it happened that way

he puts a lot of focus on Danny's development because he will become something incredibly significant to history, which is why other superheroes reeeeaaaally need to step back and mind their own god damn business, I can just imagine Clockwork popping in on Constantine and stressing the absolute importance of Danny being left alone

and then Constantine has to go chew out the Justice League because THE LITERAL GOD OF TIME SAID YOU NEED TO S T O P

#op danny dc edition #asks #danny phantom #overpowered danny #clockwork #vortex #nocturne #undergrowth #constantine #justice league #I dunno how we just decided that DP takes place in the DC universe but I dunno it just fits better somehow

[ibijau]

Oh, here's a prompt! Nie Huaisang travels back in time to ensure that Jin Guangyao stays away from the Jin sect. When he gets back, he's disturbed to find that not only is Meng Yao now his stepbrother (or has at least become a very respected disciple of the Nie sect), but is also now engaged to Lan Xichen. Cue screaming and/or fainting. But at least Minjue is still alive, right?

It was surprisingly easy to make it all happen, much to Nie Huaisang's surprise. In stories time travel was always so complicated to orchestrate, with so much to plan for... but Nie Huaisang had just done it, and it seemed to be working well.

His first stop had been to Meng Shi, shortly after the birth of her son. He could have gone back further and prevented her from ever having that son, but... but at the end of the day, he'd been impossibly fond of Meng Yao even if he'd grown to hate Jin Guangyao. The solution, then, had been to visit his mother and make sure she didn't fill her son's head with impossible dreams.

It had taken some money to get Meng Shi out of the brothel for a few days, and she'd been quite suspicious of him at first. But Nie Huaisang had been a gentleman, and she'd warmed up to him a little. She'd even given up on trying to seduce him once he'd explained that while not opposed to feminine charms on occasion, he mostly cut his sleeve. She'd acted quite sorry for him when he'd explained that actually, he'd just gotten out of a long relationship that had ended badly due to some trust issues and a the betrayal of a man they'd believed to be their friend. Meng Shi had shared a few stories as well, some her own, most her colleagues'.

By the time they'd arrived in Lanling, Nie Huaisang had become quite attached to Meng Shi, and decided he might change his plans a little, depending on what would happen in the next few days.

Meng Shi was not happy to meet other women who'd had the dubious pleasure of sharing Jin Guansghan's bed. She was even less happy to talk to them and learn that none of them, not a single one, had ever received money or attention again after he'd left them, not even those who'd had a child. One of them, the servant of a powerful family of merchants, had gone begging at the door of the Jin sect when her three years old daughter had fallen sick with something nobody understood. She'd been sent home under threats of a beating if she ever showed up again, and her daughter had died.

That had been nearly four years earlier. Jin Guangshan hadn't been sect leader yet, but he'd been his father's favourite and most spoiled son, so he would have had the power to do anything he pleased, including sending a doctor to his daughter, or having her brought into Jinlin Tai to make sure no dark spirit was attacking her. He wasn't even engaged to his wife at the time, so it was impossible to use her to excuse his lack of care. And he'd known about the child's sickness, because he'd happened to be passing by when the mother came begging for help. It was he who had ordered she be sent away, annoyed by her crying.

Meng Shi had gone paler and paler as that poor woman told her tale of sorrow, clutching her son tighter against her chest. When Nie Huaisang and her had returned to their inn, she had asked him why he'd wanted her to meet those other women.

“I just don't like what he's doing,” Nie Huaisang replied, a little embarrassed that he hadn't thought she might get curious. It was stupid of him. Meng Yao surely couldn't have gotten his brains from his father after all.

Meng Shi, sitting on her bed, rocked her infant son in her arms in silence for a moment.

“They were all weak,” she said after a while.

“Who?”

“Those other women. They were all weak.”

Nie Huaisang tensed, fearing that she might announce she was cut of another cloth, that she would persevere where they had given up, but Meng Shi only sighed and kissed her son's forehead.

“He picked them so they were young and would have no one to turn to. Servants and prostitutes and unwanted daughters... he picked us so we'd have no one to turn to when he'd abandon us, no one to defend our honour and force him to pay for the children he made us have. Women like us, it's our own fault for getting pregnant in the first place, isn't it?”

Nie Huaisang stared at her, and realised she was right. He'd been so busy collecting names, he hadn't paused to wonder if there had been a pattern to Jin Guangshan's actions.

“Are there any more you want me to meet?” Meng Shi asked.

“No, she was the last one.”

“Then I suppose we'll started heading back to Yunping City tomorrow. I'll have to make new plans for...”

“No, we're not going back,” Nie Huaisang announced, startling her. “It's too unfair if you go back, you deserve better. Both of you deserve better!”

She blinked a few times, and gave him an amused smile, still rocking her baby. She didn't believe him, of course. Nie Huaisang could hardly blame her for that. After her last experience with a cultivator...

But Meng Shi really did deserve better. Nevermind that in a future he hoped to have now prevented, he'd desecrated her body to get back at her son, this was a different thing. Meng Shi was not a bad person. He'd once thought her guilty of ambition at least, but after a couple weeks in her company, he realised she'd just been desperate for a chance to escape her lot in life. He couldn't really hate her for that, even if it had led to such tragedies after her death.

Nie Huaisang liked her now that he'd met her, and he couldn't condemn her and her son to a worse fate than what they'd have known without him.

He needed a plan.

He needed a smart plan.

He had a plan.

“So, I might have lied a little, you're going back to the brothel,” Nie Huaisang said, earning an unimpressed smirk. “But not for long! I'm going to try something but... would you be willing to lie about who sired your son?”

“Why not? At this point, the truth won't get me much.”

“Perfect. Then I'm going to warn my sect that I have fathered a child, and that I'm unable to care for it at the moment. I'll have to write to them but... but I know Nie zongzhu will immediately send for you. He'll probably ask after me, he hasn't seen me in nearly a decade, but I know he won't have forgotten his cousin Nie Xingyu, and he'll do what's right for my son and his mother.”

And there was no risk of the real Nie Xingyu ever returning to ruin that story, Nie Huaisang knew. His father's beloved cousin, who'd become a rogue cultivator after an argument with their grandfather, had actually died a year or two before Nie Mingjue was even born. A Night Hunt accident, one which Nie Huaisang had discovered by chance while investigating some of Jin Guangyao's crimes. But he remembered his father always hoped to see Nie Xingyu return, always speaking so highly of that cousin who had been almost a brother to him.

Nie Huaisang's father would be delighted to meet his cousin's son, and if “Nie Xingyu” asked for it he would buy Meng Shi's contract in a heartbeat. It would only be a matter of convincing sect leader Nie then, and Nie Huaisang wasn't worried about that. His father had kept all the letters his cousin used to send and read them to his sons, so Nie Huaisang was confident he could imitate his prose and handwriting, not to mention he too carried the Nie seal to mark that letter.

At worst, if it didn't work, Nie Huaisang could always find the money somewhere to buy that contract in person and try to find somewhere to leave Meng Shi, but he'd rather know that she and Meng Yao were safe and sound in the Unclean Realm.

Meng Shi, of course, looked unimpressed by his plan. She still thought he was lying, or trying to sell wonders like other men before him so they could share her bed for a reduced fee, or demand more of her than they'd paid for. Nie Huaisang didn't mind. If people's opinions of him mattered, he would have chosen a different way to avenge his brother, wouldn't he?

-

It took nearly a month after Nie Huaisang had brought Meng Shi back to her brother, but one morning, from the room he'd rented across the street, he saw a small group of Nie cultivators go in. His father was among them, and when they excited the building, he was carrying little Meng Yao in his arms and chatting cheerfully with Meng Shi who seemed shocked at this turn of events.

Unseen by her Nie Huaisang smiled, and went to activate the talisman that would take him back to his own time. Hopefully this would have been enough to save Nie Mingjue. And if it hadn't... well, he knew how to travel to the past now.

-

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes. He was in his room, and yet not. This was what used to be his room when he was young, before he became sect leader. A little smaller, a little more private, with a view on a small private garden where he kept his favourite birds. Hisroom, the one he'd always preferred, and had only abandoned in a desperate attempt to be the leader he'd thought his people would need. If he still lived in this room, then it meant Nie Huaisang wasn't sect leader.

Delighted by this apparent victory, Nie Huaisang sprung to his feet and rushed out of the room, only to run head first into someone.

He'd ran into that person enough times that he knew them instantly, even before seeing their face.

“Well someone is in a hurry,” Nie Mingjue said with a laugh.

A laugh.

Nie Mingjue was laughing. Nie Huaisang couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his brother laugh like this. Not since the Sunshot Campaign, he thought.

“Your cousins haven't arrived yet,” said someone standing just a step behind Nie Mingjue, her voice also full of laughter. “You didn't oversleep, don't worry.”

It took all of Nie Huaisang's willpower to look away from his brother (Nie Mingjue, happy, laughing, healthy) but he managed it, because that other voice was a little too familiar.

It was odd to find Meng Shi in her fifties when just a few hours ago, Nie Huaisang had seen her in her early twenties. Her hair had turned grey, there were wrinkles on her face, and she had exchanged the bold colours she used to wear at the brothel for the muted tones the Nie sect favoured. It suited her. Growing old suited her, if only because she would never have had the chance, had Nie Huaisang not changed her fate.

“I think he's not quite awake yet,” Nie Mingjue teased when Nie Huaisang stared too long, poking his little brother in the shoulder. “But at least I don't have to drag him out of bed. Can I leave the rest to you, auntie?”

Meng Shi smiled, and assured him she'd make sure Nie Huaisang was ready for his cousins' arrival. Nie Mingjue thanked her and left. Nie Huaisang almost ran after him, suddenly needing to touch him, to hug him, to make sure this was real, that he had truly...

“Now it's finally you,” Meng Shi noted, earning a curious glance. “I've realised a few years ago that you looked oddly similar to the man who helped me. Too similar to simply count it as family resemblance. But until today, you didn't look quite right either.”

When Nie Huaisang could only blink at her, she laughed.

“I thought so. I've been wondering for years, but... you did something to change what was meant to happen, didn't you?”

“I did. I wanted... I needed to save certain people.”

“Your brother,” Meng Shi guessed.

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“And my son?”

He nodded again. “Where is he? Is he well? He learned cultivation, right?”

Meng Shi smiled proudly. “He's one of the best in his generation, people keep telling me. He's married now, and living with his husband, but they come visit often. They wanted me to come live with them in the Cloud Recesses, but it's too cold for me over there, and I like the friends I've made here in Qinghe, so I... is something wrong?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, then shook his head. “His husband?”

“A-Yao is married to Lan zongzhu,” she explained. “I would have preferred if he'd married a woman, but Lan zongzhu is a very good husband to him, and they always seem so very happy when they're together. It's all a mother can truly wish for, isn't it? To see her child settled and happy.”

Nie Huaisang said nothing.

He did not run back into his room, didn't hurriedly prepare some ink so he could draw another time travelling talisman and set things right. It was tempting, so tempting. But Nie Huaisang resisted that temptation, and forced himself to smile.

“I'm so happy for them,” he mumbled after a while, and hoped he would learn to mean it.

#Meng Shi #Nie Huaisang #xisang #xiyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #this was super fun to write thanks for the prompt!!

[hikarimiyanaga]

The Dimitrescu Ladies and Donna Beneviento with their S/O who is a Reaper.

Requested by the lovely @kristieray

A/N:

I don't know if this makes sense but I just love the idea that there are many reapers out there. So Reader is not alone in being a reaper.

She also has typical Reaper powers and a scythe as a weapon.

Alcina Dimitrescu / Lady Dimitrescu

You were a free-spirited reaper. Most of the other reapers get annoyed at you because sometimes you make the job more interesting.

You get to the village to guide a soul when a certain giant lady got your attention. You gulp as your eyes follow her.

"Y/N!" Your fellow reaper sighs at you. "Stop staring at the giant lady with no soul and guide this one!" The ghost waves at you and you nod.

You guide the ghost to the afterlife and come back to the village. It was weird. Seeing someone with no soul whatsoever. Souls are what makes a human human. If they have no soul? Are they even considered as one?

You roam the Castle and got even curious of the Giant lady. She could tower over you.

"Who goes there?" You hum as Alcina appears before you. She seems so lifelike yet so dead. As if she was on a time still. You decide to appear before her and she gets taken aback.

"No need for any trouble. Lady. I'm just curious."

"Of what, exactly?" You smile at her.

"Of you."

Ever since then, observing Alcina has been your past time. Most of the other Reapers knew that the Village has been designated to you since you kept coming back to it.

You keep roaming the halls and sometimes even play pranks on Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

Ray, one of your friends who is also a reaper can't believe that you actually are falling for a non-human. You just shrug at her.

You and Alcina become closer as you spend more time together.

The real test came when Ethan and BSAA came to the village. So many souls were wandering around. You quickly phone Ray so she could help the souls and you quickly came to Bela's rescue.

You push her behind you and quickly used your powers to repair the window. One of the reaper's perks.

"Ethan Winters! Don't you dare take another shot!" You state, anger fueling your body. "Don't you dare hurt her."

Ethan is actually trembling as you take another step towards him.

"I know where Rose is. I know how hard it can be to lose a child." You sigh. You've witness too many deaths, heard too many cries. So can anyone really blame you if you try to sometimes cope? To sometimes at least laugh?

You hold out your hand to him. "I'll help you get her back so just stop killing everyone I love."

"What are you?" He asks as he accepts your hand and stand.

"A reaper." You brandish your scythe and Ethan gulps. You ultimately made the four lords and the three Dimitrescu daughters leave the village.

You knew how Ethan would die if you weren't here. You assured them and even kissed Alcina as good measure.

You came back with Ethan all bloodied up but you both survived.

You were scolded and punished but it was well worth it.

You spend more time with Alcina and the girls.

You haven't officiated it but when you show up to work wearing a necklace with a ring on it, well everyone knows who it came from.

Donna Beneviento

Being a reaper can be such a downer. Every day, you witness a death. Every day, you have to guide a soul to the afterlife.

You only stumbled upon the Beneviento house accidentally. You have a curious streak to you that some of the Senior Reapers actually scold you for.

The first time you see Donna, you were curious not only of her abilities to control dolls but also her veil.

You keep observing her and visiting her till one day, you see her take off her veil.

You were surprised, because she was just so beautiful? Why would she wear a veil?

"Who's there?" She asks and you didn't realize that you materialized. You land on the ground and smile at her.

"My name's Y/N. I'm just a curious reaper."

"Reaper?" You nod. You look at Angie and realize.

"Your soul is embedded in them."

"What?" You tilt your head. You thought she knew but apparently she didn't.

"This doll. And all the other dolls? A small part of your soul is embedded in them." You hum. "That's amazing." Donna blushes under her veil.

Ever since then, you visit Donna and Angie whenever you have your day off. Sometimes even when you should be working, you'd stop by for a quick glance at her.

One day, you had a rough day. There was an incident, one that took many lives. Too many souls who cried for their loved ones.

You get inside the Beneviento house and Donna perks up upon seeing you but you didn't have the usual vigor.

You don't tell her what happened but just hug her instead. You try not to cry at her shoulder as she rubs your back.

You don't tell anyone but she became the light at the end of the day.

So to no one's surprise, you asked her to become yours.

Bela Dimitrescu

You were friends with the grand chambermaid of the castle. She saw you once, guiding a maiden that was hunter down.

So once in a while, you visit her. Still concerned over an old friend.

Bela caught your eye when she was reading about your job. Being a reaper.

You hum as she turns the pages then scoff. You materialize right beside her and she yelps in surprise.

"This is bullshit!" You say as you take the book. "Even we don't know why we're chosen! Chosen ones my ass." You grumble.

You sigh. And Bela stands. "Are you a reaper?" You nod.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to take anyone's soul or something like that. Just visiting an old friend."

"An old friend?" You nod. She looks at the book then gets her journal and pen.

"If you don't mind then, I really would like to differentiate facts from fiction." You smile at her curiousity.

It was the start of a friendship between you and the oldest daughter.

You would visit her every chance you can get while Bela is always excited to wait for you.

One day, you see the three Dimitrescus hunting down a maiden and you sigh.

"So you guys are the main reasons why girls are always the ones who are mostly dead around here." Bela blushes as you materialize out of nowhere.

She splutters as she tries to find excuses but you just pat her head and smile sadly. "Must be hard."

She nods and you hug her. You don't tell her with words but you hope your actions are enough. That she'll know.

One day, when you gather your courage, you ask Bela out on a date.

And one day as well, when you've noticed how much you've fallen, you propose to her.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

You were just a wandering reaper. Hoping that you won't come across a soul in needing of guidance to the afterlife.

One night, you see a blur of bugs pass you. You then sense that a soul was nearby. Did that blur just killed someone?

You follow your senses and your guess was right. Only that blur is now a girl and carrying the body of the soul. You guide the soul to the afterlife.

By then, you were intrigued by Cassandra. Something about her just triggers your curiosity.

You keep observing her. Her hobbies, her interest and you were amazed by her paintings.

One day, when you thought she was asleep. You materialize as you admire her painting.

"Who are you!?" She asks as she wields her sickle and you just raise an eyebrow at her.

"Look, I like you a lot but don't even try. I'm too tired and would like to just admire your paintings." Your honesty made her blush.

Ever since then, you would materialize when you visit her and she would look forward to showing off her paintings and drawings to you.

One day, Cassandra was all fidgety and shy. You hum as you materialize. Was something wrong?

"I would like to paint you." She says and you can't help but smile as you nod.

People rarely look forward to meeting you or the other reapers. And those who claim they do are either lying or just too tired.

Each visit with Cassandra was fun, you say random facts about being a reaper and she chimes in things about being a witch.

Before the painting was even finished. The both of you have made it official.

And you look forward to seeing her as much as she looks forward to seeing you.

Daniela Dimitrescu

You were guiding a soul of a maiden when Daniela sees you. She thought you were trying to steal a maiden.

She tried to attack you and the maiden so you brandish your scythe to stop her.

She freezes as she admires your weapon and you raise an eyebrow at her. How did she even see you?

You knew some creatures can naturally see reapers, even some humans can. You shake your head and guide the soul as planned.

You got curious of her so you went back to the castle. You explored as you didn't see her at first.

"Boo!" She tried to surprise you, she really did, but as a reaper, your senses are heightened, so you can sense her presence from a mile away. You just turn to her.

"So you really can see me?"

"Yeah? Doesn't everyone?" You shake your head.

"Not unless they're dead. People typically don't want to see me or my co-workers."

"Co-workers?" You smile.

"You didn't think that I'm the only reaper around, right?"

She drags you to the library and you tell her many stories.

Stories that you heard. Stories that you've experienced. Things that you've seen.

And every single time, she was just amazed.

In return, she tells you about the books she loves. The family she would do anything for.

Alcina, her mother that may be strict and busy sometimes but still protective and warm all the same.

Bela, the eldest who always scolds her for her antics but still listens to some of her ramblings.

And Cassandra, the middle child whom she's competitive with, whom would always treat her as an equal.

There was just something about her while she talked about her family that you kiss her.

She was surprised at first but kisses back nonetheless.

You pull away with a smile and she does the same.

You bask in her presence then kiss her forehead.

"I do hope I'll see you more often now." You laugh at her statement and agree.

You'll visit the castle more often just for her.

A/N:

I am so sorry this took so long.

I've been having headaches for the past few days and I tried everything to chase them away.

I'm feeling a bit better now.

Comments and thoughts are always welcome!

Thank you for reading!

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #re #re fanfic #resident evil village

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

#the owl house #starters #rp starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #rp #rp meme #ask meme #long post

[justkending]

Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about." 

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

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