#like this girl has spent Some Time away from civilization during her original life too!

[spotsupstuff]

Does tarrows struggle to find food considering she probably wouldn't want to eat batflies or bluefruit (because of boreas)

not really. she most likely knows how to find food better than when she was a slugcat. like knowing which roots can be eaten, which leaves, how to make use of small worms n bugs in a more efficient way than a slugcat would- this girl knows how to cook and has farmer knowledge. she might start growing things for herself too

besides that she has people to hunt with (makes friends with local scav tribes, she has Orion, Haboob and Notos [specifically with the overseer] to help her out), she has a shotgun that she's skilled with, relatively nearby the Root there's a lake and she has knowledge from highly advanced society how to make traps and nets. not to mention her technological education and skills

batflies/bluefruit make up such small percentage of possible food available to her that crossing them out of the list for Boreas' sake doesn't hurt her basically at all

#spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #like this girl has spent Some Time away from civilization during her original life too! #going to Zephyr had to be done sneakily so she usually traveller light on foot once reaching the closest Iterator facility grounds #so most of her food was what she scavenged around/from inside of Zephyr's structure. her physical weakness hinders her quite a bit in- #-the au but she still has her experience n smarts

[moonlightchild-otome]

Ikemen Vampire - Jean d’Arc Route Summary Chapter 10

here is the tenth chapter!

to clarify again, I’m not very good at japanese so if anything is wrong or weirdly translated everything is on me.

of course there is going to be some spoilers so do not read if you don’t wish to know jean’s story yet.

*also little bonus at the end about Jeanne d’Arc real story! of course you don’t have to read it to understand his route in the game but it’s very interesting :)*

The Count tells MC the history of the war between France and England, also known as the Hundred Years’ War...

【 Comte 】  Jean was a soldier who led the French army during the Hundred Years War.

Jean fights for his country, France and defeats the English army. Jean d’Arc, soon after the defeat of the enemy, becomes a true hero for his people.

However, such glory won’t last for Jean :( 'The most tragic end of the world's heroes', as they say.

In the course of the battle, Jean was captured as a prisoner of war by the enemy. The King didn’t want to help him for some reason. 😡

And of course... 🙄

【 Comte 】  Jean was convicted of heresy and it has been decided that he would be sentenced to fire.

After Jean's death, the king ordered a re-examination of his treason and found him to be innocent, and he went down as a hero of France.

The fact that Jean never knew went down as a hero after his death and this won’t change the fact that he died as an innocent. The protagonist is angry because it doesn't make any sense.

From the bottom of my stomach, I feel a mixture of anger and frustration.

Here, the MC asks the Count a question. “Why did he bring him back to life after such a death?”

There's something different about the Count returning the great men of the mansion and Jean.

The MC wonders if Jean really wanted the Count to bring him back to life. Before the Count can answer, Jean appears, interrupts him, takes the MC by the arm and leads her away.

【 Jean 】  One look at this man's face is enough. I don't like it. Let's go, woman. 

As soon as they arrived in the library, Jean seems to have calmed down a little lets go of the MC's arm.

The protagonist apologises for trying to find out about his past without his permission, but Jean says that's okay. Jean says it's okay, because his life has been written about in books anyway. However, he says that he doesn't want the Count to tell her about it.

【 Jean 】  ...It's not enough to say I hate it, it's too much.

Jean says that he is not a hero and that he is no different from the children's book he used to read, The Ugly Duckling.

it hurts me so much that this is the way he perceives himself when he deserves all the love in the world </3

Jean's gaze fell on the book 'The Ugly Duckling', which was still on the table.

That’s it for chapter 10!

here is some real background info about the real Jeanne d’Arc! She is such a brave and interesting historical figure. The epitome of a real badass, fearless and powerful woman.

so, the hundred years' war, if we summarize as much as possible is a series of armed conflicts that began in 1337. which opposes the kingdom of france and the kingdom of england.

in 1328 at the death of king charles iv, the question arises as to who will inherit the french crown.

one then has the choice between the cousin of the preceding king philippe de valois and edward iii the king of england who by his mother isabelle is also a descendant of the french throne.

you can imagine putting an english king on the french throne, wasn’t seen very well. 

edward not happy, which led to a succession crisis, which lead to the hundred years' war.

obviously this conflict, quickly overcomes a simple succession crisis.

it's a mess.

what you have to remember, is that the english are gradually invading part of the kingdom of france.

in 1415, after the battle of azincourt and the english victory, the english king henry v controls much of the north of the kingdom of france, including paris for that matter.

but it is far from being the only concern.

what you have to keep in mind is that the king of france at the time, charles vi, is reached at rather regular intervals of madness.

this obviously prevents him from administering the kingdom properly.

as a result, in parallel with the conflict with the english, a real civil war breaks out.

to find out who between his son the heir charles and his cousin the duke of burgundy will be able to take back the reins of the kingdom; the duke of burgundy is supported by the burgundians who will end up allying themselves with the english and the son of the king the heir charles is supported by the armagnacs.

but during this time, charles is betrayed by his own father who disinherits his son and after his death, gives the crown to the english.

i warned you that it was really messy.

and it is in this incredible mess that our jeanne arrives.

and where exactly does jeanne come from? from domremy.

she is also often called the virgin of orleans.

she is associated with the city of reims, but jeanne was originally born in domremy.

and where exactly is this place? domremy is this little town to the west of the city of the vosges department, on the banks of the meuse river.

isn't it pretty?

this is jeanne's birth house,

she would have been born around 1412. the building classified as a historical monument since 1840 includes in addition to a cellar, three large rooms originally used to house the whole family, her parents and four siblings.

according to jeanne's trial, it is here that she would have learned to sew or weave which were two occupations of the young girls of the time.

her father was a ploughman, so she often had to look after the animals.

and since she is very pious she spent a lot of time praying.

she went on pilgrimage at least once a week, for example in the notre dame de bermont chapel, about three kilometres (as the crow flies) from her birth house.

and jeanne d’arc, as you may have guessed, wasn't always called jeanne d’arc.

no, in history she has had different names and official nicknames.

there are of course the best known ones: the virgin of orleans, jeanne the virgin or even just the virgin and in the vicinity of domremy she was also called the jeannette de rommée, in connection with her mother's name. she has even signed several letters with the name jehanne.

and it's even more complicated if you're interested in her surname “d'arc”.

which was originally written darc, without the apostrophe. here again there have been many variations, and i'll mention a few of them: tarc, dars, darx and even d'ailly or daly according to the phonetic transcription of her name, with a lorraine accent. from there we move on to duly, then du lys.

when the king ennobled jeanne and her family, it is written on the deed, la dame du lys in reference to the royal coat of arms.

this is the magnificent bois-chenu basilica, which was built between 1880 and 1940 in honour of jeanne.

and for the record, this incredible basilica was sometimes considered to be the place where jeanne would have heard voices.

however if we refer to the trial, it is in her father's garden, near the house, that jeanne would have started hearing voices, celestial calls, coming from saint catherine of st. margaret's and the archangel saint michael.

the divine mission entrusted to her was very “simple”.

she was only commanded to be a cavalier, to cross a kingdom occupied by the english to go and find the future charles vii and convince him that she is the one sent from heaven.

to help him to take his place on the throne by her coronation in reims.

to show him how to liberate the kingdom of france, of the english presence.

it seems to be an easy enough mission for me. 😅 (nope)

so obviously you can imagine that the people didn't take her seriously right away. it took a few years before she managed to convince the world that she wasn't completely crazy.

- jeanne?

- yes?

- this is the voice.

- is someone talking to me?

- you are the chosen one, jeanne, join me.

- yes, i'm coming.

- i hope you like human barbecue. (ok i'll stop :/)

how is the legend of jeanne forged? how does one go from being a peasant girl eager to help, to jeanne of arc, heroine of the kingdom of france?

this is le centre d’interprétation (the interpretation centre), which is just behind jeanne of arc's birth house and retraces her youth and adventures.

her journey is incredible, at 17 years old, jeanne can't stand not doing anything anymore, she has been hearing voices urging her to act for four years now.

so she decides to return to the châtellenie de vaucouleurs, to meet captain robert de baudricourt, one of the king's faithful followers and after several vicissitudes, she manages to convince him. it wasn't easy, i remind you that her main point was that she hears voices. but yeah, he finally agrees to send her with an escort, join the heirn in chinon.

the journey is quite long and above all risky, we are talking about more than 500 kilometres and in this period of turmoil, the dangers were quite present especially if you look at the map, one realizes that the small expedition crosses areas not controlled by the enemy coalition.

fortunately, everything went well for jeanne, who arrives at her destination on march 1429 and gets an audience with the heir two days later. he was quite suspicious of this young woman at first, who claims to hear divine voices but according to the story she made a revelation to him that we don't know which eventually convinced him.

for the entourage of the suitor of the throne, it's not that simple and you can understand them, betting on jeanne is a little bit like a poker game. so they insist that she will be given a few interrogations, she is questioned about her life, about her morals and finally confidence is established, she is equipped with military equipment. she then undergoes mini combat trainings and here we go, her dream is about to come true, she joins a supply convoy in blois and on april 22nd, with more than 4000 men, she is headed for orléans.

the arrival of jeanne of arc changes many things.

her faith, her confidence in victory gives hope to the soldiers and to the inhabitants, who are filled with new energy. they manage to win in less than 10 days, 10 days and the english are obliged to give up their plan, which consisted of taking the city and then attacking the south of the loire.

jeanne who comes out of this battle with this image as a victorious, ultra badass woman and just earned her nickname... la pucelle d'orléans (the virgin of orleans).

thanks to her victory in orleans, jeanne thus becomes a kind of national heroine. she represents by her fame and her qualities, a not insignificant asset for the heir in his fight against the english and the burgundians.

but what makes a real difference is less her qualities as a war strategist and more her ability to charm and to galvanise the troops and the inhabitants along the way.

it's quite simple, before jeanne's arrival, the english had a reputation for never losing their invincibility.

and jeanne achieves the feat of restoring confidence in a possible victory.

it gives the impression to the troops that they are going to receive a kind of divine help and it changes everything in the soldiers' minds, all the more so because before her arrival there was a prophecy, who said that a virgin would help defeat the english so when jeanne arrives, everyone thought "it's ok, we're saved"!

jeanne persuades the future king to start a ride to reims who is in the middle of enemy territory, to be crowned.

jeanne thus succeeded in carrying out one of the following missions which were supposedly entrusted to her by the voices she hears; in other words, since she has succeeded, she is necessarily an envoy of god, and that for the mood of the troops, it makes a huge difference.

unfortunately after the time of victories comes the time of defeats.

after the coronation, the king and jeanne no longer really agree. she is convinced that her mission is to keep the english out of france.

the king, for his part, is longing for a little rest.

for example, he does not feel at all capable of taking back paris, while jeanne, a little bit stubborn, goes there anyway and suffers a failure.

on top of that she is wounded, she gets a crossbow arrow in her thigh, moreover, she breaks her sword which had for all victories...

it's a bad sign.

some people think that the virgin is abandoned by god. some time later jeanne went to compiègne, a city besieged by the burgundians and by some english contingents and once again it goes wrong, she is taken prisoner in may 1430, by the burgundians.

she tried to escape, but all her attempts failed and in november of the same year, she was sold to the english. jeanne is then taken to the castle of rouen, where members of the church judge her for heresy.

the trial was to say that charles vii was crowned thanks to a witch, she is also blamed for everything and anything, for dressing in men's clothing,

for deferring directly to god's judgement without going through the church, for hearing the voices of demons and not of saints.

jeanne really plays her life on each of her answers, in addition, she faces accusers totally committed to the english cause on her own when she was only 19 years old.

moreover, the witnesses are obviously not chosen at random, everyone who could speak up for jeanne is under pressure. everything is being done to ensure that she is condemned. finally, she ends up at the stake, on the market square, and we make sure there's nothing left of her body, to prevent it from being turned into holy relics.

and then after the end of the hundred years' war, i.e. almost 25 years later, the church reverses this first court decision. king charles vii wants to wash away the insult that was done to him through this trial and he pushes jeanne's family to ask for a review. pope calixtus iii agreed and jeanne was rehabilitated in 1456. the investigations carried out are more serious, many of jeanne's contemporaries jostle to plead in her favour and even people who had once spoken badly of her finally return to saying good things about her.

the first judgement is broken and the young woman's memory is rehabilitated.

an unusual little fact in the end - many people have not been able to admit that the story of the virgin ends up on a pyre. for them it was impossible, this story was too beautiful, this too extraordinary woman.

and it went far enough that people found stories of women, who a few years later claimed to be the real jeanne.

just imagine them saying stuff like "oh yeah, yeah it's me i didn't burn at all, my face has changed a little bit but it's me, i assure you, believe me, really".

a certain claude des armoises is said to have pretended to be her, in the metz region. after having acquired a certain renown, having been given gifts by former relatives of jeanne; she even went so far as to meet two of the virgin's brothers, who (hold on because it's completely insane) believed her.

they really believed it was their own sister who had died at the stake.

it's a crazy story!

well, we don't really know if they really believed it, or if one pretends to believe it for financial reasons for example.

in any case, this woman, who was talked about everywhere, is unmasked by the king himself, so that this fraud can be stopped.

in the end, i find this story quite unusual.

here are the friends!

i hope it wasn’t too long to read (it probably was) and that you have learned two, three little things on our dear jeanne d’arc. after all, she is one of the most famous women in history!

#ikemen #ikemen games #ikemen series #ikemen spoilers #Ikemen Vampire #ikemen jean #IkeVamp #ikevamp jean #Jean #Jean D'arc #jean route #ikemen vampire jean #jeanne d'arc #history #france #my translation #jean all chapters

[brokenxfragments]

Rosalia, the Rebirth

Icon Use: FFXIV model

Theme Song(s)

Legends Never Die - League of Legends (ft. Against The Current)

Sacred - Citizen Soldier

Verses:

Final Fantasy XIV

Basic Information

Age: N/A (ageless;god)

Gender: Female

Height: 5′9

Weight: 158 Ibs

Species: Deity

Orientation/Sexuality: Demiromantic/Pansexual

Relationship: Single(?) (ship verse dependent; not actively seeking)

Occupation: Leader, Advisor

Brief Personality: Quiet — Cautiously Warm — Honest

Brief Bio: While quite a knowledgeable & inquisitive woman due to her travels from world to world as well as simply being immortal, it takes some time for her to open up to most friends - though there are parts of her life she would rather not talk about. Though she is a deity, she has no want for it to be public knowledge, & will often choose to allow others to think she was an immortal, an auspice or even a spirit if they realized she was not human/mortal. It’s clear that she holds onto a deep, personal mingle of regret, sadness & guilt of something, though for why or what will not be said easily, as it is exceptionally painful for her to talk about it. She would rather put on a smile if she’s able to & help others rather than be helped, taking on as much work as she can to escape those thoughts even for a short amount of time. Anyone that would come across her either traveling or sheltering in a remote location well outside of any civilization would be greeted formally & at least civilly. Beware of actually threatening anyone that she is close to, however, for her calm demeanor is too brittle to keep back an explosive anger - she had lost too many loved ones & will not hesitate to protect the few she allowed herself to be close to.

Full Biography

     A goddess created for the specific purpose of the ‘rebirth’ aspect of the universe, Rosalia was brought into existence by a being that would be known as Lady Salri into the realm that was once Seraphine, the universe itself known as Eldria. She had been originally a very bright-eyed, naïve woman who would often observe those perceived as mortal after she had learned much from her mentor, Eva, who was the ‘essence’ aspect - things related to souls & states of consciousness including natural magic. She found them charming in their own way as well as admirable, accomplishing things in such a very short amount of time that they were given. These observations would lead her to start mingling among them after learning to change her appearance, to appear more like them, learning from them from first-hand experience rather than afar, though it would open her eyes to many sides of mortals - the varying shades of gray morals. 

     Like most beings, even of those immortal, there are instincts to seek companionship, whether for a mate or for mere friends, to which led her to one that was of the same realm as herself. Another of Lady Salri’s creations, the aspect for ‘extinction’ that would name himself Aridem, would have that tug on her, especially when they would often work closely with one another when they would bring a stagnant world through its cycle to begin anew. What was first amiable friendship developed to love as time went on for the both of them, a relationship that certainly brought chuckles at the irony that ‘rebirth’ & ‘extinction’ would come to be hand-in-hand beyond the fact that one cannot be without the other, which didn’t escape the couple’s notice either but were able to laugh about it.

     In time, they would become a family with two children — Ziva, their daughter & eldest child, & Malshano, their son. These two were born with greater capabilities because of their heritage, both welcomed additions to the realm. The daughter was capable of manipulation of more than one mere element, in fact was able to master many more, making her such a vital addition with Rosalia when time came to heal a world to be ready for new life. Malshano had something quite different, being able to ‘recycle’ organic materials of once-living creatures to create new lifeforms. This gave him a mentor with Amilla, who’s aspect was ‘atrophy’ - anything to do with organic matter, including the degradation of it, which made her opposing to those who would practice necromancy or similar magic to serve purposes that they wouldn’t do themselves.

     Time passed, the two grew to their full potential, & much seemed well with the realm, though down along the line when there were a great lull of action on their parts when there weren’t any worlds to help wipe clean, Aridem would seem to dive deeply into research that he wouldn’t share with her. It wasn’t that unusual, given that he often would take these interludes to do research of one thing or another, yet he was not usually so secretive with them. The only one that would be allowed to help him was Malshano, after much pestering on his part to be allowed to help at least his father in something worthwhile. Rosalia ultimately decided that perhaps this was the bonding the two really needed & would leave them to it — a decision that she would fully regret when it led to ultimate devastation when it came.

     It’s uncertain what precisely happened to the two when they went on a long-absent trip outside of Seraphine, but Aridem & Malshano returned completely warped & changed, announcing that the universe was beyond repair & was needed to be fully wiped clean so that they would all begin anew - the damage done onto the universe by the Elder Gods made Eldria beyond saving by his reasoning. Lady Salri was only applying bandages to a growing wound that was festering, in his words. And the first to pay the price of their announcement was Ziva, whom was struck down viciously by her own brother when she tried to reason with their father that this crusade was utterly mad. Gods were not easily killed, yet with the powers the two gained through the the force that was only known as the Void, not only was Ziva killed but was also made to become nothing but scattered atoms that even then were consumed entirely. And Rosalia had been there to bear witness to her entire family being torn apart by this new madness.

     Because she had little experience in the pain of loss, Rosalia was not at all prepared for the kind of state she was put in even when Aridem & Malshano retreated before the force of Seraphine could reach them, falling into a extremely depressive state of being. The wide-eyed innocent aspect of ‘rebirth’ was replaced with a far more solemn woman that still desired to help others but with a heavy burden on her shoulders to help find a way to stop both her mate as well as her son from bringing their Great Cleanse to the entirety of their universe. Once it was found that killing them, while possible, would not be the end of their existence & only seemed to make the pair stronger with each revival along with their gathered allies, Rosalia was tasked to seek out more knowledge outside of their own. Whether to put the two down permanently or to seal them away for the rest of eternity, Rosalia sought to gather this information wherever she could. Secretly, she was relieved even though it riddled her with absolute guilt - she didn’t have to fight Aridem or Malshano at least on the front lines, though she was trying to bring an end to them. But with each encounter with either or both when they learned of her task, she would grow more resilient & even vengeful with the two that were once her closest family. This was how she’d learn to fight whereas she never had to before, especially when some of these encounters left her in a bad way. 

     The task led to years, many more years than she would ever count, & there were many more encounters with both her foes as well as new friends & allies. Because of the weight of her task, she never stayed much longer than necessary, chipping away at her mentality when she’d return just to find that those she knew had long since passed on or were killed through other means. There were very few brief relationships all through the years, though only one had brought a set of twins into existence - Tobias & Silvia, she would name them. The fear of what Malshano would do with them when he had been entirely unremorseful about killing his sister would ultimately make Rosalia choose to leave these new lives to their father Deimos, who was more than thrilled to have them even though the brief relationship between himself & Rosalia didn’t work out, yet thankfully they remained on good terms since that realization.

     There had been only one exception to the rule of not being close to others that came near the end of her hunt for such knowledge, a young hume girl with her by the name Hikaru that she’d virtually adopt her as her own daughter when other means to finding her a family proved impossible due to circumstances outside the girl’s control. The adoption would infuriate at least one Harbinger (as Aridem would call himself & his allies), though at this point in time Rosalia was able to keep the child well protected. She had a sense of duty as well as mingled happiness & guilt in wanting to keep the girl safe.

     Unfortunately though, the Harbingers were always at work with increasing their numbers as well as figuring out ways to spread the Void without being consumed by it. Rosalia was unable to find an answer to their dilemma, hitting nothing more than dead-ends or information that could not be used, by the time the war came to full flare once the Harbingers were ready. All the years she spent seeking this knowledge, & none proved useful - yet another heavy burden of knowledge she would carry even as she rejoined her realm to help hold back the inevitable. What she would do was to try to protect those that were closest to her. Thus, given the unusual circumstances, she would bring not only her adopted daughter that was nearly 17, but also the twins that she had borne, Tobias & Silvia, along with their father to the realm with her.

     During the final confrontation, when all but Seraphine & Infernam had fallen & been consumed, Rosalia had been separated from her fellow fragment gods from a devastating blow from an attack that destroyed one of the many floating islands. As she would come to & rush off to check on her island where she had left those that were not going to be part of the fight, she came to find that Malshano had found them all first. This was perhaps the moment that Rosalia had just wanted to stop living at all, even with fury & grief raging through her chest, as she stared down at the remains of those dearest. Letting the anger take over, she would only hunt savagely through the abominations that were of Malshano’s creations, looking for Aridem & Malshano in particular.

     But that rage also blinded her. Being too focused on her hunt, she was brought down from behind in flight & would lose half of her left wing by Malshano’s personal pet he kept with him at the time before he left with a cold sneer. While the pain shocked her, it did not overshadow the rest of what she felt, nor did it block out the screams all around her. When her gaze locked onto Aridem’s form as he was setting flame to Lady Salri’s form as she snarled from her position where she protected the sealing of the Elder Gods, Rosalia picked up her weapon & flung herself upwards at him, severing his right wing in passing before falling towards the encroaching Void while it was still consuming all in its path, Aridem falling with her. She had intended to sacrifice herself in at least bringing this MADNESS that was once her mate, yet her hand was caught & was brought to a painful halt in her fall by the very man that had dedicated his entire being to essentially erase their home from existence. She was beyond reasoning & was determined to bring him with her, yet there was a glimmer of something far more familiar in those once-vibrant orange eyes before Aridem launched her back upwards onto the island he was clinging to, before his hold slipped. Perhaps his final act as the real Aridem that was otherwise consumed by the Void.

     Lady Salri made the choice to save what few survivors remained by sending them well beyond Eldria through the Rift, to another world & universe, as her final act as their goddess, Rosalia being one of them though never knowing who else had been sent through except for Thornara that had been with her right at that moment. For weeks, months, perhaps even well over a year, during which she was recovering, the deity of rebirth was little more than a husk of a person except during points where rage took hold. She had no intention to live - she felt too broken & ached with so much hurt that it felt impossible to even breath. She had nothing. Yet, there was something that would eventually draw at least a small portion of the true Rosalia out, the day that Thornara figured out something that had to do with a pendant that was entrusted to the fragment of ‘rebirth’. The day that the unknown aspect of ‘creation’ was released from the pendant would become Rosalia’s new purpose — to at least protect Lady Salri’s final creation who just might have the key to at least shape her own home.

#._;ooc;_.the.echoes.beyond.(.mod.) #._;muse;_.the.essence.of.your.being.reincarnates.(.rosalia.)

[helihi]

Thoughts on RWBY Vol. 7

Quarantine day 20: I finally force myself to re watch volume 7 instead of doing my French homework.

Spoilers ahead for RWBY and How I Met Your Mother (yes).

Volume 7: The Story of a Broken Narrative Kingdom

The day has come where I finally sit down and watch the whole season again. Some of you wondered why I didn’t simply do a The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty review on the last episode of the volume like I did with the previous ones. The answer is the same reason why Ozpin’s speech at the end of the volume encapsulates the volume’s theme as a whole: finales affect the way you look at shows, comics, movies, and books. It provides a framing.

Did any of you watch How I Met Your Mother? For those of you who didn’t, it was a often called the show “which could replace Friends”. Something that you may not know is that fans of the show renamed it something among the lines of “How I should date your Aunt Robin” after the last episode aired. You see, the ending of the show changed the way most viewers see the show in the present.

The show had main character Ted Mosby narrate to his children how he met their mother. However, the story doesn’t begin during the day that encountered happen; no, it starts years before, when Ted declares he wants to settle down and find the love of his life. In that very same episode, he meets Robin Scherbatsky. In the end it’s revealed that the mother (the character we spent years speculating about) is dead (which I expected), and Ted asks his children if they give him the blessing to date their Aunt Robin. Originally, the fans could excuse episode 1 centering around Robin because it was the instance where Ted decided he wanted to settle down, but after the veil was lifted; there were no excuses, this whole story was a Ted’s way of convincing their children he should marry Robin, the main woman in his life during the whole show (even if we spend the last season on her wedding with one of Ted’s best friends).

Perhaps the ending of Volume 7 didn’t destroy the character development of 3 main characters, but it drastically changed the way I felt about the volume.

“The Kingdom of Atlas will remain safe, that’s my promise”- James Ironwood, Volume 7, Episode 1.

If you go back in my blog and read my reviews for most of the volume, you will find glowing ratings and stars. Anyone that knows me, knows that I love a good politics game in the shows/stories I read, so I was really excited when the writing team started developing that during the first half of the season.

Our gang (RWBY+JNOR+Q+M) reach Atlas after finding out that Oz is a fraud, that Salem cannot be beat (by Oz), and that Cinder almost took another maiden’s power. They quickly realize that Atlas is in a state of chaos and Ironwood is consumed by fear taking authoritarian measures, which keep the kingdom divided.

The stage is set:

 Ironwood, Winter, and the Ace Ops.

Robyn, the Happy Huntresses, and Mantle.

 Watts, Jacques, and Tyrian.

I thought the way everything was set was fantastic, I loved the political drama, and I thought the writers were taking their time properly. Even now I give huge kudos to the Schnee storyline, which is my favorite. The volume showed us how flawed Winter’s coping mechanism is, how Weiss is still susceptible to her father’s gaslighting and manipulation, and how the household isn’t just broken by Jacques (Willow apologists, pls read this).

However, the cracks started showing during the first episodes and I noted that on my reviews. We have characters used for exposition dump: from the Robyn supporter, that explains what we could’ve learned by the normal progression of the story, who gets killed as soon as he returns home, and other characters like Maria talking about Pietro while he’s standing right there.

In contrast to that, we get wonderful montages which show the passage of time. The kids interact with one another and the Ace Ops, they train, they help with Ironwood’s plan. It seems weird to have 2 different tools one after the other.

Also, it it weird for anyone that Qrow and Winter only interact 1 time during episode 2 when in Volume 3 a clear rivalry was established? Winter’s storyline was supposed to follow Penny’s, while Qrow was supposed to grow attached to Clover. Because these 2 characters had to reach a certain point in the story, they are not allowed to deviate from the interactions needed for the plot to advance.

Another thing occurred to me while re-watching the season again... Why is Ironwood so fixated in protecting Atlas when it’s floating in the air away from Grimm? Yes, we know that some Grimm can fly, but by the many times we see Mantle in chaos, you would think Ironwood would repair Mantle’s wall to keep it safe?

That’s the theme, guys, girls and nonbinary folks: a kingdom divided.

Just like the Atlas kingdom falls apart, the narrative of Volume 7 has a specific breaking point that marks the decline in quality (you can see that in my reviews). The moment everything went downhill starts in Episode 8, with the dinner at the Schnee Manor.

We spend much time developing the political tensions of the volume for Jacques to be promptly arrested and taken away from the scene in a second.

While Ironwood, Winter, Penny, and Clover are shown doing plot relevant stuff, team JNOR does that ridiculous gag to get Whitley out of Weiss’s hair.  The rest of the team do jackshit, and we don’t hear anything from them until everything is over. Again, the writers reached the plot point and forgot about everything else.

Also, Ruby looks sadly at Weiss when Whitley mentions that Klein was “let go”, yet Weiss has never talked about him to Ruby on screen. Claiming Weiss could’ve done that off screen strips away the possibilities of Weiss bonding with Ruby the same way she did with Yang when talking about their pain during Volume 5.

Such a large table, and only 4 council members, isn’t that kind of stupid? I mean, if Ironwood had 2 seats, numbers wise it makes sense, but who are those other 2 supposed to represent? Why haven’t we seen them before?

Robyn is told by Yang and Blake that Ironwood doesn't know who to trust. She proceeds to pressure him in front of people he clearly doesn’t trust. This is the first instance of OOC Robyn.

The walls crumbled, and everything became obvious as a viewer. Some other notable flaws:

Tension jojoing. The people in mantle will revolt! Except they aren’t. This happens in Episode 5, 6, and 9. The only real uprising is the last one. The other two were silly cliff hangers that make no sense when you watch the show again. (they didn’t make sense before either  and I complained).

Hey there, Watts! You may have an interesting backstory, except it’s only implied you are pissed off Penny got chosen as a major project instead of whatever yours was. Also, Paladin incident? What? If he is the main villain of the Volume, why not expand on him? I shouldn’t be surprised, Hazel and Tyrian are not that complex. And Cinder? It’s been 5 volumes and we barely know anything about her haha.

Robin! I love how civilized and smart you are when the volume started, choosing to observe and talk instead of acting against the main characters. How awful is it that you forget to keep your calm when a Serial killer is on the loose. It would be a shame if someone were to... die.

I already gave my 2 cents over Clover’s death, and I’m not going to repeat myself. I am sorry to all the Fair Game fans, I’m afraid bury your gays is till alive and well.

The nail on the coffin is the final episode: after making a speech about how Salem wants to divide people and how the only way to go is to remain united, James does the exact opposite thing the moment something doesn’t go according to plan. Don’t get me wrong, his PTSD regarding the queen chess piece was foreshadowed, but the moment team RWBY offer an explanation and identify the person behind it, he’s to far gone. Then, Salem shows up, and goes for Team RWBY when Ruby gets under her skin. This shows that Salem has a weakness and that Team RWBY can be trusted when it comes to defeating her, yet that is promptly ignored.

Also, Ironwood might be hurt about Yang and Blake talking to Robyn, but after everything, they were proven right: Robyn is to be trusted, Ironwood was making a mistake.

The whole setting up a trap to attract Tyrian wasn’t Ironwood going “mad with power” or something. Robyn knew he has lying and allowed Ironwood to catch someone who could hack everything. Not only that, but the camera zoomed in on Ironwood, so nobody could see Robyn’s handy Semblance going red. Or... maybe I’m looking too much into it and the writers expected you to forget.

Sorry, I guess James Ironwood had to take a bunch of stupid pills.

“I wish it didn’t have to end this way.” - Clover Ebi.

“It doesn’t have to, but the writers need that Branwen angst.” - Qrow Branwen.

Volume 7: Part 1 of the Atlas Arc

Have you ever heard of Checov’s gun? It is a dramatic principle that states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements should not appear to make "false promises" by never coming into play. Let’s play a game called the false promises of the volume that may carry over to volume 8?

Renora: Nora sides with Robin, Ren sides with Ironwood. They do not communicate with one another and the tension builds throughout the volume. They kiss, nothing gets resolved. Ren cries when Neo turns into Nora.

Training: Ren is shown to throw himself into the enemy as a flaw, he repeats the same mistake when fighting with Neo. Oscar’s Semblance is questioned, nothing comes out of it. Ruby’s Semblance is questioned, nothing comes out of it.

Cinder got beef with Atlas? For some reason, Cinder talks about Atlas hoarding power when speaking with Winter. Bitch, where the fuck do you come from? Who are you? Do I know you? Sorry, the writers forgot to write a growth arc for you. My bad.

Nora, daughter of Atlas? Can someone explain to me why she became a SWJ (/s) during this season? We never get a backstory of her previous to Kuroyuri and for some reason Nora is super attached to the people of Mantle. The daughter of Atlas title was thrown around, why?

It’s so nice to see tea FNKI back! Too bad they are there for 5 minutes and never show up again, not even when Mantle is supposed to be defended by all huntsmen. I guess this was fan service.

What’s the purpose of the Happy Huntresses? Isn’t it funny how the only one who got wounded by Tyrian is the only character who could see in the dark, but didn’t tell Robin that Penny wasn’t guilty? Hi Fiona, I don’t know why you exist.

Marrow: the butt of the joke. Since the first episodes, Marrow is shown as the outsider inside the Ace Ops: his teammates don’t take him seriously, Ironwood doesn’t think Marrow is up to the challenge of some missions, and he’s the only Faunus, the only one that seemed to sympathize with Robyn at the end. Too bad he wasn’t allowed to break his mold.

The World Building looks pretty, but it doesn't play the part.

I have to praise the art direction of this season. I was blown away by the aesthetics of Mantle clashing with Atlas, the details in the backgrounds, the world building by back messaging, screens, and posters. My favorite scene of the volume is the penguins in the tundra.

However, you have to walk the walk, and the writing team failed to deliver.

Racism: hey, I know you guys kinda messed up the White Fang’s internal struggles and opportunity to expand on Adam’s power grab and Sienna’s leadership, but maybe don’t skip the racist elements of Atlas? All we get are Faunus mine workers looking angry, that drunk dude who yelled at Blake and Marrow making a simplistic comment about politics. What...? What’s the point of acknowledging u are bad at writing racism and then do nothing about it? Did none of the new writers know how to tackle this?

In-World Continuity: Hey, wasn't the Vytal festival broadcasted to the entire world? When I saw that camera focusing on Yang on episode 1, I thought there would be a call back to what everyone saw her do during the finals, but nope. Let’s not bring that up again. ever. The only important thing about the Vytal Festival is the tower, move on.

Weapons upgrade: We were told that weapons were an extension of each huntsmen; too bad none of our gang actually work on them. Pietro makes all the modifications and repairs. I remember the bumblebee fans eager for a scene of Blake repairing Gambol Shroud, don’t tell me you’re not disappointed.

Atlas ball: not found. Hey! We have Jacques Schnee celebrating his fake victory on the elections! It would be a perfect moment to showcase the disconnect between what’s happening in Mantle and what the people in atlas thing. Too bad we didn’t wanna make extra character models.

--

Closing thoughts

I wanted to re watch the whole season again to see if the bitterness left on my lips after watching that chaotic finale went away, but it only grew. There are so many character choices that made no sense, so many scenes where characters stood around in the background doing nothing.

WHY THE FUCK DID OZPIN ONLY APPEAR AT THE END?

Oh, I’ll tell you why: he needed to give a speech about themes to justify the stupidity that happened during the last episodes to get to that cliff hanger.

I am disappointed in volume that seemed to be doing so good at the begging, but hey... at this point we shouldn’t be surprised, should we? Interestingly enough, the people who dreamed about the ball and the scenes of Blake fixing Gambol Shroud grew quiet after the episodes aired... 

Almost as if criticism wasn’t allowed on the RWBY tag.

AN: The titty window isn’t justified Salem, your ex is now a child that’s PEDO—

#rwby #volume 7 #rwby7 #RWBY review #Me #The good the bad and the dirty

[universaltantra]

Nice Jewish Girl Runs Away From Home, Becomes Tantric Lama

Alexandra David-Neél was a Franco-Belgian singer, explorer, author and Tibetan Mystic who became a Tantric Lama.  She was the first westerner to visit the forbidden city of Lhasa in the year 1916. Long before Heinrich Harrar spent his 7 years in Tibet making nice with the Dalai Lama, Alexandra had been there, done that, and why her life has never been immortalized on film remains a mystery that only the Hollywood patriarchy can answer. She wrote over 30 books covering the subjects of Buddhism, Tibetan Tantra and Esotericism and that’s just for starters.She was also a much accomplished and sought after translator, being fluent in French, English, Sanskrit and Tibetan. Sadly, only two of her books are still in print today: “My Journey To Lhasa” and “Magic and Mystery in Tibet”. Alexandra lived to the age of 101 and to this day remains the most authoritative source for Tibetan Tantric Buddhism.

Alexandra was born in Paris, October 24, 1868 to an anarchist father who nearly escaped execution by firing squad after the failed revolt of the Paris Commune and a mother who was a deeply religious, conservative heiress. This social incompatibility led to many arguments between the parents during Alexandra’s formative years. No doubt this created a pattern in her life of wanting to runaway from conflict and instilled a desire to find balance through travel.  Her earliest attempt to runaway was at the 5, she only got as far as the local park before the Gendarmes found her and promptly returned her home. This was the first of many attempts to runaway until she reached adulthood and was able to claim her inheritance; allowing her to satisfy her wanderlust. I myself being a product of a dysfunctional upbringing, related to many of her situations, which made her story to be particularly compelling on a very personal level.

Throughout her childhood and adolescence, she would find the opportunities to escape her bourgeois  surroundings in search of adventure: While vacationing with her parents Belgium, she ran away to the Netherlands, was found and returned home. Later that same year, she embarked on a bicycle trip from Paris to Spain, “forgetting” to tell her parents, naturally. But perhaps her most ambitious and successful attempt to fly the coup was at age 17, when she boarded a train from Brussels to Switzerland, hiked across the Alps where she wound up in Lake Maggiore, on the Italian side of the Alps. This last escapade was certainly a primer for her future adventures in the Himalayas. As she loved to say about herself: “I learned to run before I could walk”.

When she turned 21, she moved out on her own and set herself up in Paris, where she enrolled in the Paris Conservatory of Music while at the same time began to study esoteric traditions with the well known mystic of her times, Madame Blavatsky. She also discovered Paris’ venerable museum to Asian art and culture: Le Musée Guimet; which still exists today. It was here that she fed her hunger for exotic cultures, traditions and converted to Buddhism.  Right around this time Alexandra received her inheritance and she flew the coup once again, this time to India. She traveled through India, studying Sanskrit, visiting temples until she ran out of money and returned to Paris.

Upon her return to Paris, she sadly discovered that her desire to share the experiences of her visit was met with antipathy. Since women did not do those things and studies of other cultures were done from an observers point of view. Not as Alexandra had done, as a participant. Needing to find gainful employment, she fell back on her earlier training in voice to pursue a career as an opera singer. As a singer she achieved a fairly acceptable amount of success, traveling the world and finally landing a permanent residency at the Saigon Opera. She even found the time to compose an Opera herself! She continued traveling the world and while performing a gig in Tunisia, she met the man who was to become her husband and would be the facilitator of some of her greatest adventures. Philippe Neel was a civil engineer who worked for the government of France and like Alexandra was extensively well traveled as a result of his job. Together they had an unconventional marriage by the norms of the times. It could be called an “open marriage” but open only in the sense it was Philippe’s support of her travels that facilitated some of Alexandra’s greatest adventures. But let’s not confuse Philippe for a pushover, because underneath all the generosity was an ulterior motive: Philippe also had a mistress and  dispatching his wife off to yet another globe trotting mission kept her out of the way. All evidence suggests that Alexandra was ok with this and chose to look the other way.

The Ultimate Late Bloomer:

On August 9, 1911, with her husband’s blessing, Alexandra  returned to India. She told her husband she would return in a few months. She would be gone for 14 years. But during all this time Philippe was supportive both emotionally and financially. The letter between them prove this. Even though there was little physical connection between them, their correspondence reveals a strong intellectual connection and more importantly, a heart connection.

Upon arriving in India she travelled north to the Himalayan Kingdom of Sikkim where she was a guest of Maharaja. Here she met the Dalai Lama, whose only advice for her was “Learn Tibetan!” and a great Buddhist mystic named Lachen Gomshen Rinpoche (more about him later). In one of the monasteries she met a teenager named Lama Yuphur Yongden who would become her lifelong companion and whom she would eventually adopt as her son. The proximity of Sikkim to the Tibetan border sparked Alexandra’s desire to visit the forbidden city of Lhasa, which was closed to Westerners. But with no success; she did cross the border illegally a few times but was turned away.

During her mentorship with Gomshen, she lived in an anchorite cave. Essentially as a hermit, practicing yoga, Tibetan Tantra and the study of Buddhist Scriptures. So accomplished did she become in her studies that she was awarded the title of “Lamani” (female Lama) and “Kadoma” a reincarnated female spirit. As a result of this she was allowed to wear the sacred red and white vestments of a Lama as depicted in the pictures here.

On July 18, 1916, she once again attempted to illegally enter Tibet, hoping to make it to Lhasa. She did manage to visit a few important monasteries and struck up a friendship with the Panchan Lama and his mother. She was given an honorary Doctorate in Tibetan Buddhism by the Panchan Lama, who wanted her to stay on as his guest. But Alexandra refused, wanting to return to Sikkim. This was to prove to be a great error on her part. Once she returned to Sikkim, she learned that her actions had sparked the ire of the British Colonial Authorities. Remember ant this point in time, Sikkim, India and the rest of the kingdoms of the subcontinent were under British colonial rule and travel to Tibet was forbidden. So consequently poor Alexandra was kicked out of the country.

This began Alexandra’s Iliad through the countries of Asia. Since WW1 was raging throughout Europe, it was too dangerous to go back. Instead she headed east, visiting China, Japan, Korea, and Mongolia with the faithful Yongden at her side. Determined to return to Lhasa, she and Yongden devised a plan where they would attempt to enter Tibet by traveling from Mongolia, via the northern deserts through the shared border of China and Tibet. In order to make her entrance with as little fanfare as possible (it’s obvious by now that Alexandra had a flare for the obvious) she darkened her skin with soot, dressed in rags and passed herself off as Yongden’s mother. A foreshadowing of things to come. This time her journey was a success, by now it was 1924 Alexandra had now been wandering the face of the earth for almost 14 years. Even though she had achieved a personal Nirvana, Alexandra felt the need to return home. So she packed up and returned to France with her companion Yongden in tow and returned to France

Inner Iliad/Outer Odyssey:

Upon her arrival in France, Alexandra discovered that she had attained something of a celebrity status in France, due to her writings, translations of Buddhists manuscripts and reports of her adventures in popular magazines. She wound up settling down in the village of Digne-les-Bains in the region of Provence. She earned a reputation as a Buddhist scholar of record. The accounts of her adventures were published in many of the major newspapers and magazines of the day.  It was here that she wrote her book “Magic and Mystery of Tibet”. She worked on expanding the property and by all accounts created the first Tibetan Tantric temple in the western hemisphere.

During this period of her life from 1925 to 1937 that she began what I like to call her “Inner Odyssey”. Alexandra had clocked in more travel miles than most of her contemporaries an amazing feat for anyone back then, in particular a woman. The origins of her wanderlust began as a way of escaping from her dysfunctional past. As she progressed on her outer journey to forbidden lands, she also began a journey of inner exploration in a quest to find balance. Through the study of ancient and sacred texts, she was able to shed her outer shell to realize to achieve a personal nirvana and become a “Lamani”.

In her book, “Magic and Mystery in Tibet” she recounts many unexplainable phenomena which may appear to be inconceivable to the average Westerner. Some of which are explained here:

Tummo: The ability to control the temperature of your body. This technique came in handy for Alexandra and her companions as they hiked through the Himalayas. Since they often traveled by foot or by horse and on a shoe string budget, learning to control your body’s temperature for personal warmth or to start a campfire would become a mainstay survival technique throughout her travels.

Tulpa: This is not to be confused with the western concept of an Egregore or a Golem. A Tulpa is the creation of a physical being through one’s own thought process. In order to survive under dangerous conditions while trekking through the Himalayas, Alexandra recalls creating Tulpas to serve as her guides and to endeavor protection. Apparently none of these emanations survived for more than a few days according to her.

Bardo Thödel: A death and rebirth ritual in which the Lamas have the ability to die, and in doing so their spirits would leave their physical body and then return at will. This was accomplished by the insertion of a thin bamboo reed or straw into the fontanelle of the skull. This straw or reed would serve as a conduit for Spirit to exit and enter the body, once the magical words had been uttered. These magical words (which I will not disclose here) were also uttered when a Lama would be midwifing a transition of a human from this existence to the next Bardo. In other words, serving as a guide for them at the time of death.

Flying Yogis/Levitating Yogis: In her book “Magic and Mystery in Tibet”, she describes seeing yogis with the ability to levitate or even fly through the air to get from point A to point B. There has been much speculation about this phenomena in particular especially since many Indian Fakirs have been discredited when it was discovered that they were creating the illusion of levitation by relying on a specially rigged chair disguised with cloaks. But what Alexandra describes in her book is nothing of the sort; She witnessed grown men flying across open fields with out any visible means of support.

To the average westerner, these anecdotes may border on the delusional or ridiculous. And yes they sometimes they are a bit difficult to believe. But keep in mind of the environment and culture that produced these assertions: They were produced in the rarified air of Himalayan Kingdoms that are free of are western distractions such as internet, cell phones, televisions, traffic, unhealthy foods. These “modern conveniences” that are more of an addiction than a convenience. There the mind is free of distractions and free to manifest at will. To paraphrase Alexandra: Our thoughts manifest our reality, and the mind that is free of distractions can manifest anything. So there is no doubt in my mind that she used these techniques not only to expand her knowledge of to also heal from her fractured past, make herself whole and to impart healing to others.

Her Relevance Today’s World:

So again, to the Western mind these recollections would seem improbable, but I am here too say that one needs to take themselves out our linear Occidental mindset and learn how to appreciate how these techniques can be applied to our own urban enlightenment. The Tantric Yogis may have had the capacity to fly through the air  but they would probably shrink in horror at the thought of us climbing into a big metal bird that flies through the sky. We may laugh at yogis inserting straws into their skulls in order to experience life and rebirth, but how about her modern medical traditions that keep people alive through organ transplants or defibrillation when in some cases the patient may be way past their time to transition?

Our society today is fractured, some say way beyond repair. But I refuse to subscribe to that opinion. Because if these teaching that have existed for thousands of years before our current western traditions, then they will still continue to flourish long after our ministries have been reduced to dust. Today there are advanced thinkers who would have mediation taught in schools not as any part of a religious agenda but as a way of calming a child’s hyperactive mind. As a former art instructor, I can confirm that teaching some simple breath works prior to art class can open a student’s mind so that they can experience a great creative awakening.So imagine, if we can plant a small seed of awareness, what amazing children we will create. Alexandra would have been proud. In fact there are many Tantric techniques that couples can practice in order to bring an enlightened child into this world. But this will be the topic of another blog later on.

Le Troisième Etape:

In 1937 Alexandra was now 69 years old, most people would be entering the third stage of their life, but not Alexandra; She had spent a good 12 years in Digne-les-Bagnes, making improvements on her home, expanding a portion of the structure to which she named the “Samtem Dzong” or “Fortress of Meditation”. The purpose of this structure was for the teaching of mediation making it the first Lamaist Temple in the west and it would later become part of her museum.

At this point in her life she was ready to return to her beloved Tibet and to travel through China in order to study Taoism which is the Chinese form of Tantra. This time she decided to take the Trans Siberian Express so she could enter Tibet through the Northern route. But as the fates would have it, for the second time in her life, she was caught once again in the midst of a worldwide conflict: The war between China and Japan. This event was to be a precursor to World War II and it’s ironic to think that Alexandra who many considered to be a warrior for peace,  was now compelled to witness the horrible atrocities that were committed by both sides. But always wanting to make herself useful, she actually worked as a medic and a healer for both sides of the conflict.

Finally in 1938, after a year of navigating the conflicts of WW2, she was able to at last enter Tibet, where she visited monasteries, studied sacred scriptures and settled down in the village of Kangdin for what was to become five years retreat of solitary meditation. It was at the end of these five years when she learned that her husband had passed away. It was now 1946, she had been wandering through China and Tibet for 9 years. It was time to return to France in order to tend to the estate of her deceased husband. So she left Tibet via India this time, departing on a new invention called the jet plane which flew her back to Paris.

Now back in France, Alexandra settled her husband’s affairs. She stayed in at Digne-le-Bains where the accolades began to pour in as a result her accomplishments. The French government named her a Chevalier of the French Legion of Honor. She was awarded the Gold Medal by Geographical Society of France. There were streets and schools named after her. Alexandra David-Neel became the foremost authority on Tibetan Tantric Buddhism.

But fate was to give Alexandra one final cruel blow, in 1955 Yongden, her beloved travel companion and now adopted son, died suddenly of kidney failure. The years of hardship traveling under impossible conditions took its toll on his fragile body. Alexandra was heartbroken, but after cremating his remains, vowed that they would once again return to Tibet. She was now 87 years old. Even though her body was showing signs of wear and tear, there were many who said she looked younger due to her lifestyle of yoga and meditation. She continued writing, translating, teaching and became known as the “Wise Lady of Digne”. Buddhist scholars from all over the world made the pilgrimage to her house in Provence to sit at her feet and drink from her well of wisdom.

Finally, at the age of 100, she felt the need to return to Tibet and so went about filing the papers to obtain her travel visa. On September 8, 1969, she transitioned to the next Bardo a month shy of her 101st birthday and just as her travel visa was approved by the Chinese government. Her body was cremated and her ashes, along with those of Yongden, were taken by her followers to Varanasi India so they could be thrown into the Ganges River.

I would like to think that her ashes traveled the Shakti trajectory of the Ganges to the Himalayas, where her Spirit roams the sacred mountain passes as the Lamani, Kadoma, Flying Sky Dakini, always everywhere and nowhere.

Did you enjoy this Blog? For more information, please visit my website: universaltantra.org or you can contact me by email: [email protected] or by phone: [phone] 

#tantra #alexandra david-néel #tibetantantra #tantrahouston #tantrateachers

[lastwagontrainhopper]

Words left unspoken

Unpopular royai headcanon: Roy and Riza didn't get to really know each other until Ishval. I think it fit more closely with the cannon AND it makes their relationship more interesting. This little fic explores this theme and other stuff. 

Written for Royai Week 2020, prompt 1: Letter

Summary : In the midst of the Ishvalan Civil War, Roy finally decides to send some letters back home. A sense of duty, or maybe it’s guilt, drives him to send his last letter to Miss Hawkeye. But what can he say to her? How can he justify what he has done with her trust? They were still only strangers, bound together by duty rather than by choice, and by the ghost of a man who had left an indelible mark on both of them.

French version (the original one): https://lastwagontrainhopper.tumblr.com/post/620416870258032641/la-lettre-royai

Read it on FanFiction.net : https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13611586/1/Words-left-unspoken

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

On the second Sunday of each month, the soldiers of the 4th battalion could send letters to their families back home. Every man used the opportunity; some with excess, like Hughes and the novels he sent to his fiancee, and others with restrain, like Ellith who only wrote a few lines to his old mother; but all at least sent something.

All, except their commanding officer, Major Roy Mustang.

Roy did, in fact, have a family and friends to send letters to, but the truth was he had no desire to do so. People wrote to their loved ones, he thought, to offer them a piece of landscape discovered while traveling, or to reassure them with news of their well-being. But there was no part of Ishval's suffocating deserts and icy nights that Roy wished to send back to Central, and no news of himself he wanted his relatives to know about. Considering the state he was in, giving them news would hardly reassure them anyway.

No. Roy corrected himself. He was alive and unharmed; this was something that couldn't be said for many of his comrades, and he had to tell this much to his loved ones. He knew an absence of letters would make them assume the worst; he might as well save them the worry if he could.

After all, he had created enough suffering here as it was.

Furthermore, as Hughes had pointed out, his lack of letters was not going unnoticed in the battalion. The men speculated: did the Major have no family? Or did he just not care about them at all? Roy was already being treated like a human weapon by his superiors, and his seeming indifference only strengthened this idea in the soldiers' minds. "You need to show them you have people you care about back home, just like they do," Hughes had advised him. "It will remind them that you're only human after all."

"And maybe", his friend probably thought, "it'll remind you as well."

And so, when the evening of the second Saturday of the month came around, instead of warming up around the fire with the others, Roy borrowed Hughes a pen and a few sheets of paper and got to work.

Thanks to his rank as a Major, he was allowed a private tent furnished with a cot and a small wooden desk; the whole thing lacked luxury but provided an intimacy that many soldiers envied him. In the uncertain light of a candle, Roy began his first letter, addressed to his sisters. He wrote it to Vanessa, the one he had always been closest to, but he knew the other girls would shamelessly read the message over her shoulder as soon as she would open it.

While he was usually so talkative, Roy suddenly found himself at a loss for words. The girls knew him as the fun and charming boy who had been hanging around Madame Christmas' bar since well before the legal age, and who always amazed them by creating flowers with his alchemy. What did this boy and the man who was writing the letter had left in common? What could he tell them without revealing just how much he had changed? Once again, he felt like crumpling the paper into a ball and stopping there. More than anything else, he wanted his sisters to keep as the only image of him the teenage Roy they had known, the one who had not stained his hands with blood yet. But he knew that this was nothing but a false hope: sooner or later, news of the Flame alchemist's work would reach Central, and then, there would be nothing left to hide.

They might as well get used to the idea of a soldier Roy right away.

Nevertheless, he kept a light tone throughout his letter. He talked about the weather, about his uniform which his sisters despised so much and which always seemed too heavy or too light here. He talked about the food, which he described as even worse than Mrs. Christmas' dishes, and the few bottles of whiskey the soldiers would pass around from time to time. He talked about the long evenings spent talking around the fire, and the camaraderie that existed in his battalion, without adding that the respect and fear he inspired in his men prevented him from truly taking part in it.

He talked about nothing else.

In his letter to Mrs. Christmas, he spoke of his constant tiredness, his feeling of loneliness, and the pressure his superiors put him under. His adoptive mother could understand all that – but she had never been in the military, so Roy did not mention the situation of the Amestrian army.

To Colonel Barker, his former superior and mentor in the military, he talked about the ammunition shortages and the delay in resupply that often kept them from advancing for days. He talked about the lack of troops and the cadets barely out of the academy who were going to be brought here to fill in the gaps.

Then, looking at his remaining sheets of paper, Roy wondered who to send his last letter to. He would surely have sent it to Hughes, and was grateful that he didn't have to. This war would have been even worse without a familiar face by his side.

He hesitated for a moment, and addressed his final letter to Miss Hawkeye.

He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he had a duty to write to her. Before being deployed, Roy had gotten into the habit of sending her letters a few times a month to check on how she was adjusting to life in Central. With the state alchemist exam and the work that came with his entrance in the military, he had had little time to do more to help her.

Even though Miss Hawkeye had told him several times that he owed her nothing, Roy could not help but feel a responsibility toward the young girl. It may have been a bit chivalrous – he preferred to think of it as a gentleman's attitude - but he wanted to look after her. After all, she had no family left to lean on, and she didn't know anyone in the capital. More importantly, it was thanks to her and her father than he had become a state alchemist, and Roy didn't want to give the impression that he had abandoned Miss Hawkeye right after obtaining her father's research, like he had used her for that purpose.

But when she answered his letters, the girl had always taken a polite and formal tone, staying deliberately vague about her activities and not once asking for his help. She obviously wanted to take care of herself, and Roy had not insisted. How strange, he thought not for the first time, that they were still almost strangers to each other despite what they had shared.

It was certainly not the only strange thing about Miss Hawkeye. Roy had grown up surrounded by his foster sisters and been around all kinds of girls at his school in Central. Some of them had been shy and others had been confident, some serious and others hilarious, but none of the girls he met had been anything like his teacher's daughter.

Roy had only seen Miss Hawkeye a few times during his years of studying at her house: her father had sent her to a private school in the nearest town, and the few occasion when she came home were strangely timed with the moments Berthold Hawkeye sent his apprentice back to Central, to "give him a little vacation". Therefore, they had not truly spoken until her father's death, when Roy had taken care of the funeral.

At first, she had seemed sweet and reserved, nothing more. A little naive as well, he thought to himself now – as naive as he had been then. But soon enough, when she decided to entrust him with her father's research, Roy had discovered the other side of her.

She was a rock. Once she made a choice, she was unshakable, and accepted the consequences of her decision without flinching. And while she was indeed discreet, she displayed her will as firmly as if she had screamed it at the top of her lungs. She had given him the impression of someone who had received a lot of responsibilities with little recognition.

After the funeral, Miss Hawkeye had begun to organize her father's possession with cold method and efficiency, as if her last family member had not died a few days prior. At her request, Roy had begun studying her father's research notes immediately, in her family home. When she had revealed her back to him, she had seemed slightly embarrassed, but had shown no sign of hesitation, and no complaints or nervous giggle had escaped her lips. If it had been anyone else, Roy would surely have attempted some jokes to lighten the mood and make her comfortable, but the girl treated her father research with such gravity that humor would have seemed nothing short of sacrilegious.

Roy could not help but feel a deep uneasiness at the sight of the tattoo left by her father, but he had not dared to ask out loud the questions that were burning his throat. It was not his place: he knew nothing of her relationship with her father, just as he knew almost nothing about her. They were strangers, bound together by duty rather than choice, and Miss Hawkeye seemed determined to fulfill this duty without fail. The only other thing linking them was a man who had left an indelible mark on both of them and who was nothing more now than a ghost.

And Roy could feel the ghost's disapproving gaze on his shoulders every day since his arrival in Ishval. With each snap of his fingers, he could imagine his teacher's anger and disappointment with the way he stained fire alchemy. Master Hawkeye had been right: his alchemy had been turned into a mere weapon in the service of the state, all because of Roy and of his foolish, trusting daughter.

His teacher was long dead, Roy needed to remind himself, and there was nothing he owed him anymore. Miss Hawkeye, on the other hand, was very much alive, and it was her who had gifted him fire alchemy after all. Roy did owe her something: some explanations, or excuses, he didn't know, but he felt like he had to tell her something, anything, before she found out from the newspaper the devastation her choice had wreaked.

Above all, Roy wanted her to know he had been sincere, that day when he had talked about his dream. It hadn't been a lie to manipulate her and gain power; he had really intended to use alchemy for the good of the people, and really joined the military to protect Amestris. Simply…fate had decided otherwise.

Roy took his time to lay his thoughts on paper, carefully weighing each word. He didn't sugarcoat the situation as he had done for his sisters – he knew Miss Hawkeye could handle the truth, and he owed her nothing less. He added, however, how his alchemy had helped save many Amestrian lives; it was a small consolation, but it was the only one he could offer her. He apologized: it made of course no difference, but it felt right to do so.

The following morning, with dark circles under his eyes, Roy accompanied his men to the mail wagon for the first time, his letters carefully folded in the pocket of his uniform. As he waited in line to deliver them, he saw a group of fresh recruits stepping down a train coming from Central.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a female cadet with blond hair and amber eyes, causing his heart to skip a beat. He turned his head to get a better view, and felt the ground beneath his fleet slipped away. It was her.

No. This couldn't be happening. His throat was tightly shut; he could do nothing but stare at her in a mortified silence. The blonde cadet didn't look in his direction and followed her regiment, leaving for the main camp before Roy could bring himself to call to her.

Soon, it was his turn to drop his mail. Stunned as if he had just received a blow to the head, Roy took the letters out of his pocket and stared at them. He added them to the pile in front of him, except for one, which he kept clenched in his fist.

Once out of the line, he snapped his fingers, and all his carefully crafted excuses, explanations, and apologies went up in smoke in an instant and disappeared, like unspoken words stuck in his throat.

#royaiweek20 #day 1 20 #fanfic2020 #royai #day 1 2020 #fanfic #fullmetal alchemist #riza hawkeye #fma #roy mustang #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fanfiction

[underwoodinc]

Wip intro: Kids Who Play With The Dark by UnderwoodInc. [Working title]

Genre/setting: Science Fiction, mystery, slight cyberpunk, not-to-distant-future

Pov: Multiple, third, second

Synopsis: (Below)

Leah Rose is going to the west side of the Downs. She's paying a visit to her old boss. Her goal is to procure three boarding passes on the shuttle that will take her family to a new life on the first U.S. Moon Base.

Leon Jackson has only two, but gives her a possible way for the third. She leaves Night World Pizza thinking two things, and trying resign to the reality of them going without her.

That same night, Night World Pizza comes down. 

There's an explosion, then a fire. And ten minutes before, three blocks away there's a man. He's naked, covered in dirt, and blood walking the streets. 

He's disoriented, injured, and muttering over and over "It's going to burn", in his hand the police find the card for a lawyer.

Alan Briar, Civil Defense Attorney is familiar with the westside. He was familiar with the place where the fire happened. And he's only slightly surprised, when he's called in that morning on behalf of John Doe. 

The guy doesn't know his name, how he came to be there, or why he was even saying what he did. And it doesn't look good. But he can't help to feel there's something going on, and Alan feels compelled to whatever it is. He does something he's never done in his career before, to get to the bottom of it.

After the fire that destroyed Night World Pizza and killed Leon, Leah takes her childhood friend Miles Henderson to the Inner Downs. Showing him Leon's tunnels under the city, with plans to open the fireproof safe Leon kept under Night World Pizza, and get her money back. She soon finds there's a red thread going through the Downs. 

Something weird. There's a face they've been seeing around town lately. There's mysterious notes popping up everywhere. An urban myth that seems to not really be a myth. It has to be connected right? Nothing is random anymore, right? The fire, the stranger, the notes?

Cast:

Leah Rose -

24. Former thief. Lives in the northside of The Downs, and wants to secure three passes to take her little brother and sick father and herself to the U.S. Moon Settlement. 

Quiet, quick, and she can think on her feet and under pressure. Careful, despite her and Miles having different definitions of the word. She lines her ducks, or tries to. She's kind, if guarded when not around Miles or her family.

She's very tired, and just wants to start over, or start something. She's heard the rumors of The Downs Night Stalker all her life, but it wasn't til six months before she truly believed it, after Miles' story. 

Her and Miles had a small fallout when they were teenagers, that lasted til senior year of highschool. They don't talk about what either was doing during that time.

She's got a pair of blue gloves, they don't leave her side. Also they go through anything up to solid metal, she kinda made them herself.

Miles Henderson -

 24. Leah's childhood friend, they grew up down the street from each other. 

Very gifted violin player, and was up for a scholarship in highschool, that he lost. Currently aiming to get in to college "the old fashioned way" caring for his mother and grandmother. 

A realist, and determined. He's loyal, and has a steady hand. He doesn't think he holds grudges, for example: He looks at Leah and realizes how forgiving he can be. 

Works several odd jobs, one is drivng a taxi at night. 

Six months before he was face to face with The Night Stalker. Having grown up hearing the urban legends, it wasn't til that night he truly believed. 

Leah believes him, but doesn't exactly believe it was what he said it was. Either way, he's determined to find it again, he drives with silver bullets and nails under the passenger seat. 

Alan Briar - 

33. Defense Attorney, and holds a Dual Enforcement License. Intelligent. Short but strong willed, and sharp. He's earned the nickname Cutter among colleagues, for sharp he can cut a deal and make his case. Not that he likes it or anything.

Married to Courtney, going on five years, and happy. 

He doesn't like stupid, or bullies, or anything unfair. He doesn't like smiling in public either, though he can't help it, that's his face. Works his best when under pressure.

Six months prior, he saw the Night Stalker. 

He knew the stories, he had spent some time there. Quite a few of his clients are residents of the Downs. He figured it was just another urban myth, but he saw it. He was chased by it. Bitten into by it. 

Still in recovery from his "injury" as he's told everyone else, he gets an odd feeling, checking out the sight of Night World Pizza. There's an odd feeling when he talks more to John Doe who he has decided to clear for the fire. 

Determined to get to the bottom of this, and has decided to enforce his Dual License to do so. 

Courtney Briar - 

35. Volunteers at the Boy's and Girl's Club, and is an actress known well around uptown Greenfield.

Happily married to Alan, about five years. Originally from New Orleans, moved around a lot as a kid.

She believes Alan saw what he saw, and has a strict personal rule about being around at night. Never leaves til she sees all the kids are picked up or taken home. 

One day, she sees someone hanging around her car, and they disappear by the time she gets there. They leave her a note, that's going to make her more than a little anxious. She's been noticing more weird stuff lately. 

Intelligent, calm and laid back. A people person, and loves working with kids. Loves performing, feels at home on the stage. Athletic and works best when under pressure. She's hopeful, in general.

Very patient and compassionate. But definitely has an inner fury that Alan knows he has yet to really see, and can't wait. 

John Doe - 

??probably 40?? Or something. Maybe 37??. Ten minutes before the explosion that set fire to Night World Pizza, John was found wandering the streets a few blocks over. Naked, covered in dirt and blood, holding something in his hand. 

He has no memory of who he is, what happened to him, or how he came to be there. Or why he kept muttering "It'll burn." Over and over.

As you can imagine it doesn't look too good for him. Alan takes his case. 

Tall, broad shouldered, with gentle eyes. He's perceptive, but very scared by what is missing from his memory. Scared by the idea he may have done it, scared about what may have happened if he didn't.

Gentle, almost childishly so, and quiet. 

After being cleaned up he found all these scars and wounds over his body. Burns on his torso, missing fingernails, cuts on his legs and one on his back that looked infected. 

Ophelia Jackson -

Classified.The Stranger. She's very worried, and has work to do. Time Traveler going on ten years now. 

Leon was her little brother. 

She has to make sure everything goes right. Especially considering the Night Stalker. Isn't quite sure where the other notes are coming from.

The Wolf/ Night Stalker/ The Downs Creeper -

Needs to be taken care of. 

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

Tell me if you want to be on the Taglist! I'll probably be making more posts on the world, explaining a few more things (Like what Alan's license is excatly). 

#Kids Who Play With The Dark #wip intro #writblrs #writers on tumblr #my stuff

[emma-nation]

Within You - Bloodbound AU- Chapter 1

Summary: One year after defeating Gaius, the gang has finally found peace… Until a tragic incident awakens the ultimate and most dangerous threat they ever faced.

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

Notes:

- Sequel to the fics For You, In The Daylight and Without You. You can read all of them here.

- Sorry to everyone who liked my plot about The First Vampire. I wrote it before Book 2 release and now I really felt like changing it, as I want to explore some characters and elements from the original BB universe in this fic. 

- Slightly NSFW alert/Minor Nightbound crossover

Tag List: @supersphynxsworld​, @lightning-fury​, @spacecarrousel​, @tigerbryn11, @gavryllo​, @annabellewerecorgi​, @whoinvitedalx​, @sheyah​, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists​, @scaryqueenbee, @bigmemesplz, @la-guerra-69, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me​, @morvengarde​, @tephy24​, @iam-the-fuckin-queen​​​, @voltos9, @scorpistraub​​​, @leavemeandmyshipsalone​​​, @jen825​​​, @andreear17​​​, @justejuste727​​​, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices​​​, @sleeping-with-her06, @galaxyside-0​​, @msuhailey, @zoe6111​​, @noodledragon22​​​, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh​​, @ilovetaylor13m​​, @honorablebicycle​​, @ilovekamilahsayeed​​, @allaboutchoices​​, @fal-carrington​​, @scarlet-letter-a0114

Lysimachus

The previous night had been intense. A failed attempt to perform a ritual to bring back a loved one resulted in someone summoning some sort of demon instead. It took three hunters to contain the threat. Even being a vampire, Lysimachus still felt sore and bruised from the battle.

"What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes and checked his phone screen. 9:36 AM. And about ten unread messages from his sister. Kamilah was extremely upset because he hadn't picked up her calls.

"Same old Kamilah," even almost two years after their reunion, her habit of acting so overprotective of him would never die. He needed to let her know, every single day, he was alive and well. "Oh shit."

The last message wasn't another complaint, but a summoning from Adrian. A Council meeting was scheduled for that night. Being one of the six Clan leaders, he was forced to attend. The subject was said to be highly important and related to his personal interests.

He wondered what could it be this time. Since defeating Gaius, they had been living normally. Some groups tried to follow his lead and start a rebellion in New York, but they were easily contained by Kamilah, Adrian and the others. Their biggest issue they had was his sister's disastrous honeymoon. She and Amy chose a private island in Greece as destination, where they had a nasty encounter with the Order Of Dawn, a secret society formed by some of the most elite and efficient killers in the world. Their sole mission was the eradication of their kind.

If there was an organization Lysimachus hated to his guts, that was the Order. Not only because they rejected him in the past, when he was still a vampire hunter, but because they acted fanatical and biased about their views. It was very pleasant to see their headquarters being burned to the ground, but what they discovered deep down the compound changed everything they knew so far... the tree that originated their bloodline. The Tree Of Eternal Life.

The secret files they found in the Order Of Dawn's computer told an entire different story about their origins. They were all wrong, including Jameson. The First Vampire, supposedly helped by a goddess, drank blood from the tree. Which granted her all the power she possessed.

There was an attachment on Adrian's email. Lysimachus opened it and started reading. He had been studying the tree's blood. And from the results, that story was being proved to be real.

After a quick showering, he went to the same usual diner for coffee and breakfast. The owner, Hazel, was a very sympathetic Fae, giving every meal a personal touch of her magic.

"Morning," Lysimachus greeted, "the usual, bacon and eggs, and... Espresso, extra strong please. I'm gonna need it today."

He glanced at the very end of the diner, at the most secluded booth, near the old jukebox. Lysimachus could barely see her short figure with magenta hair hidden behind the daily newspaper.

"And a blueberry French toast for the lady, please."

Lysimachus sat down right in front of her, who barely noticed his presence until she dropped the newspaper she was reading.

"Hello to you too," he joked, facing her closely.

"Oh, hey," Katherine removed her sunglasses, revealing the results of a poor night of sleep and complete exhaustion. "I came here for some coffee. I don't think I can make through the day without it."

"Same."

"All I can hope is no one will be doing anything stupid tonight. I don't think I can't handle."

Lysimachus let out a small laugh. They had been working together for one year now, hunting supernatural threats and protecting magical artifacts. There was some romance in between, but nothing serious or official. Katherine wasn't the kind who created too many attachments. Neither was him.

"Don't tell me," yet, he felt bad for leaving her behind. Her company was enjoyable. "I'm suppose to go to New York tonight. Council meeting."

Katherine stared at him in silence for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"Why do you even agree to be part of that vampire elitist crap? Isn't it exactly what you always hated and wanted to abolish?"

"I... uh..."

He didn't exactly have an answer. After The Baron's death, he was immediately chosen to have his seat. He rarely spent time in New York though, he mostly traveled through America and other parts of the world, seeking for vampires in dangerous situations, in need of a Brand or protection.

"It's for a greater good," he lied. The position was kinda imposed to him.

"Sure," Katherine let out an ironic chuckle. "Whatever you tell yourself."

Through his cell phone, Lysimachus scheduled the first flight back home. While he couldn't wait to hear his twin sister's complaints about his constant absence, there was one person he wished to avoid at any cost... Priya Lacroix.

"I'll be back next week," he assured Katherine. "But if there's any emergency..."

"You know I can handle it own my own," she interrupted. "But as for you, watch out for threats with brown hair, sharp fangs and red eyes. She was spotted at Alicia's former club several times in the last few months. Don’t even try to tell me she wasn’t stalking you."

Before he could answer, she stood up and walked away, leaving him wondering if that could be an act of jealousy or only her usual bad mood in the morning.

----------

Kamilah

"Anything else you need, Mrs. Sayeed?"

"Could you gift-wrap this for me, please?"

Kamilah sighed in relief as she accommodated herself on the comfortable seat of her private jet. She thanked the universe, and the humankind, for the existence of airport shops. She was so busy during her business trip to Paris she didn't have time to pick her wife a proper gift for their one year wedding anniversary. If there was one thing she considered extremely necessary was to spoil Amy. Though the girl refused to admit, she loved being spoiled.

Yet, she couldn't grant her the one gift she wanted the most, being Turned. They only had one conversation about this and Kamilah gave her a definite answer. When she reached her thirties, age when she was Turned herself, they'd finally discuss this again. Amy obviously wasn't thrilled about it.

Kamilah opened her laptop, attempting to chat with her brother, but he wasn't online. He was never online, or even answered phone calls, after he started this new lifestyle. Adrian messaged all the Clan leaders requesting a meeting to discuss important information, and she'd be truly angry if her twin brother wasn't there.

During the flight, she took some time to read the papers Serafine Dupont delivered her before her departure. She only met Amy once, during their honeymoon in Greece and an incident with the Order Of Dawn. Being a psychic vampire, it was enough for her to take some conclusions about her wife.

Bloodkeeper, Kamilah read. The parallel line that descended from the Tree Of Eternal Life. Passed to one woman, born in every generation and triggered by the contact with vampires. They had the ability to access every memory, from every vampire that ever walked on Earth.

That was the most coherent answer of why her visions were increasing. Being married to a vampire, Amy couldn't be any closer to that world. Somehow Kamilah felt relieved. After all, the prophecy previously made by Wright's cult in London was mostly wrong. What made Amy special, was her bloodline. She was no Chosen One to bring the First Vampire back to life. That was nothing but a myth created by old civilizations and passed along to their descendants. Only one of the many legends regarding their main ancestor.

She closed her eyes, trying to get some rest before her arrival, but Serafine's last words were still repeating inside her mind.

"There's more about Amy than it shows. I could sense something within her... a darkness."

Hours later, she was finally back in New York. It had passed 7 PM and her penthouse was dark and silent. She sighed, placing her bags near the front door. Amy should still be working at Ahmanet Financial. She was about to make her way to the master suite when someone jumped on her back.

"Surprise!" She recognized her wife's cheerful voice. "Please don't go to the dinning room, I'm not done yet."

"Amy..." Kamilah said, still stunned by the surprise. "I couldn't sense your presence and you're not even a vampire. How on earth do you manage to do that?"

"Practice I guess? By being married to a vampire?"

"I suppose you're right. Anyways, what were you up to in the dinning room?"

"Wait a sec," Amy disappeared through the corridor for a few minutes. "Stay right here."

Kamilah waited patiently, examining her surroundings and being surprised the penthouse was very organized, even in her absence.

"We're making some progress," she thought.

"You can come now."

The female vampire followed her wife, finding a candlelight dinner waiting for her. A huge smile appeared on her face. After she teased Amy a little bit about her cooking skills, they exchanged a few quick kisses and sat down to eat. Kamilah picked one special bottle of wine from her collection. She glanced at her wife, putting on some music on the stereo. Amy had the most beautiful and pure smile on her face. Serafine could only be wrong. There was no darkness inside her. Only light.

"So," at the table Amy's expression changed a little, "how much did you speak to her?"

"Who?" Kamilah took a sip of her wine. She already knew the answer.

"You know who I'm talking about."

After some alcohol in Greece, Serafine let slip some juicy details about their quick affair in the past, what caused Amy to become extremely jealous of her.

"Only enough," Kamilah assured her. "Small talk, work and... about you."

"What about me?" Amy raised her voice, clearly annoyed.

"Your visions. They're increasing, Amy. I needed answers."

"And what did the expert told you?"

"You're a Bloodkeeper."

----------

Amy

Bloodkeeper. A rare kind of human that possessed the ability of accessing every vampire's memories. Amy shook her head in denial.

"One more label to the list," she thought. "Damsel in distress, The Chosen One, Bloodkeeper..."

She entered the bathtub, that was in just in the perfect temperature. Everything was perfect in her life right now. The penthouse she lived with Kamilah, her high-ranked job at Ahmanet Financial, the business classes she was taking, their marriage... yet, she couldn't help feeling there was something missing. Since her death experience, she was constantly feeling empty, incomplete. Something she couldn't explain.

"I know what it is," her mother told, when she shared these feelings, obviously omitting all the supernatural and eerie part. "Motherhood. Your biological clock is ticking."

"Mom, I'm only twenty-four. And no, we're not even considering this possibility yet."

Deep down, she knew what would fill that hole. She knew exactly what she needed. She wanted to be Turned. Amy intended to keep all the promises she made in her vows, except for one: 'til death do us part. They could skip that part. It could be easily replaced by: 'til Turning makes us eternal.

When she left the bathroom, Kamilah was getting dressed for the Council meeting. She picked something formal, yet more casual, instead of her usual suits. Even after being together for two years, Amy was always impressed by how stunning she looked. Her wife would look great in anything she wore, even in the costume Lily designed her for their last Halloween party.

"I forgot..." She sighed, recomposing herself. "I printed the reports from the last few days, I left them on the office's desk."

"I don't need to see them," Kamilah shrugged. "I trust you, you run that company so well as I do."

"You're gonna make me believe it someday."

"It's true. Your communication skills have gotten us profitable deals, attracted new clients and everybody loves the improvements you suggested. Trust me, you're doing absolutely great."

Amy sat down by her side in bed and laced her fingers with hers. She felt a little remorseful for arguing with Kamilah as soon as she came home. She had all the right in the world to be concerned. Living for over two millennia, she had done things she deeply regretted, and having Amy to watch them, like a movie, should be truly upsetting.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just... sick of all of this. All these names and speculations about me. Can't I just be... Amy? Amy, the regular mortal?"

"You're far from regular. You're the most remarkable person I've ever met," Kamilah tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Whatever you are, Amy Sayeed, I love you."

"I love you too."

Amy wrapped her arms around her wife's waist, kissing all the way up from her neck until her soft lips. She kissed them passionately for minutes. While their tongues moved together, Kamilah’s hands moved down to the knot on her bathrobe, untying it and exposing her naked body.

“I missed you,” her nails softly raked Amy’s stomach, “so much.”

“And so did I,” Amy whispered in her ear. “But you were always on my imagination, you know?”

Her last sentence sparkled Kamilah’s attention, who raised a curious eyebrow.

“Oh really? Have you been having fun without me?”

“Quite a bit, if you ask me.”

That was one of Amy's favorite manners to provoke her wife when she was away on her business trips. Or she'd ask her opinion on which underwear she should wear that night, followed by pictures. It had the power of causing some interesting effects when the female vampire got home.

Kamilah's hand traveled down her body and stopped in the middle of her legs, touching her most sensitive spot only to tease her.

"After this Council meeting," she spoke in her usual demanding tone, "you better be prepared."

———-

Kamilah

Adrian requested to see Kamilah in particular, one hour before the meeting started. He wanted her to be the first one to see his findings in person. She and Amy arrived at Raines Corporation at 11 PM, Lily was already there, preparing the slide-shows. While the girls got distracted, speaking about their video games and favorite TV shows, Kamilah followed Adrian to the laboratory.

"Is it..." her eyes went wide as she observed the ancient, marble sarcophagus in the middle of a highly secured room.

"Yes," Adrian told. "I retrieved it from that underground temple in London. But..."

"But?"

"It's not the First Vampire in there."

"What?! What about Amy's visions when she was in that death state? She saw her. She spoke to her."

"Indeed, she spoke to her trapped spirit, but, this? This is unreal, Kamilah. The First Vampire's body is stored somewhere else."

That wasn't the only one of his findings. Since the discovery of the Tree Of Eternal Life, Adrian obtained many samples of its blood for studying purposes. The blood that started both of their lines, Vampires and Bloodkeepers. The blood that was rumored to be the ultimate source of power.

"The results are absolutely impressive," he explained. "For example, besides finding out this body is not the First's, I concluded that what truly killed Gaius was Amy's blood, not that stake. The Bloodkeeper blood in contact with his heart, had the ability of destroying an ancient vampire."

"So?"

"Unlike ours, her blood has no impurities."

He drove her to another section of the laboratory, where the samples of the blood were being studied for different purposes. One of them, was Adrian's most proud creation, a serum that could cure Ferals and prevent new vampires from developing that condition.

"What about the the other samples?" Kamilah asked, her eyes running through the screens and laboratory machinery in front of her.

"One of them is to give us more time in the sunlight."

That was no problem for Kamilah. Her ring still worked perfectly, even after some time. And so did her brother's and... Priya's. Lacroix's new line of swimming suits and beach outfits was hit during the last summer.

"And these," Adrian's lips turned into a smile, "my two biggest dreams. Two projects in development."

"Don't tell me you're trying to become human again?" Kamilah rolled her eyes.

"It could be an alternative. Kamilah, some of us never wished or adapted to this life."

"Fair enough."

That wasn't the case for her. After 2065 years, she was pretty comfortable being a Vampire. With Amy, she was enjoying her life at fullest now.

"This one is my top secret project," Adrian showed her another sample. "It's uh... a project for us to be able to reproduce. I don't know what results it could bring and I have no one willing to test."

Kamilah quickly dismissed that subject. Being a mother was something she never considered before, not as mortal, even less as vampire. At the moment, Amy completely agreed with that decision. They still had a lot to experience together before taking such a big step in their relationship.

She returned to the main hall, where a surprise awaited for her. Her long missing twin brother had finally showed up.

"Well," Kamilah crossed her arms and frowned. "Hello, stranger."

Lysimachus didn't say anything, he only involved her in a bone-crushing hug and messed up her perfectly lined hair.

"I missed you too, sister."

"Well, your life must be active in New Orleans as you barely have time to call anymore."

"Sorry," he smiled. "I've been quite busy."

"When am I going to meet her?" Kamilah playfully elbowed him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Together, they followed to Adrian's conference room, where the meeting was about to start.

----------

Lysimachus

Since the night of Kamilah's wedding, Lysimachus had permanently cut ties with Priya. The only few times they met were during Council meetings or when she was visiting New Orleans by occasion. The fashion designer wasn't obviously interested in changing for better, or maintaining a healthy relationship. All she ever cared about was her fame, status and herself.

As usual, she made her late entrance in the conference room, eyes focused on her cell phone and pretending to not notice his presence.

Kamilah started with the formalities and, before passing the word to Adrian, she asked:

"We have some important information to be shared tonight, but before that, anyone has another subject that should be discussed in this meeting?"

"I do," for the first time Priya looked at him. "I'm starting a petition to impeach Council members that who are mostly absent from meetings and have a questionable conduct, such as hunting their own kind or sharing private information. Also, the Pact clearly states that every member should be a New York resident."

Lysimachus ignored her desperate attempt to insult him. He should be expecting that. Priya would attack him in every opportunity she had. Three of the projects he proposed to the Council were denied because of her.

"I meant..." Kamilah sighed, "another important subject."

"I'm getting married!" Lester announced, standing up from his chair. "We've met during my visit to a ranch in Texas. She's a cowgirl and horses aren't the only thing she's good at riding, you know..."

"What?" Lily and Jax asked at the same time, exchanging looks. "Ewww."

"I never thought I'd say that," Amy said, "but I miss The Baron. At least with him we had all these interesting murder and betrayal accusations, instead of... this!"

Kamilah only shook her head and gave Adrian a signal to proceed with his subject. While Lily set up the technological part, they still had to hear Lester bragging about his fiancée for some very long minutes.

"Congratulations," Lysimachus tried to make him stop before it became to graphic for everybody's sake.

"Yeah," Priya smirked sarcastically. "Maybe you're next, Hunter. I mean, after you sell out our heads to your girlfriend, she'll want to stick around."

It was becoming too much for him.

"I never shared a single bit of information we discuss in this room with my co-workers from New Orleans!"

"Can you all shut up?!" Kamilah angered. "Relationship counseling is in a different building. Two blocks away."

The presentation started. He knew what Adrian was about to share, being a former member of his company he had sent him all the research results he managed to obtain beforehand. Now, they were finally having access to real information about their origins and all the potential the blood from the Tree had, not only to create but to destroy.

"Any further comments?" Adrian inquired.

"I'm not a disgusting Feral, I can walk in the sunlight and I have no interest having children," Priya headed to the exit. "Can I leave now? My new collection isn't going to draw itself."

As she opened the door, another female figure was standing outside. Everyone turned their heads and stopped to watch. Katherine walked into the conference room, going straight to Adrian.

"Adrian Raines? I've obtained confidential information that, not only you're in the possession of the First Vampire's blood, but has been using it for research."

"That's correct."

"Being it considered one of the most powerful and ancient artifact, I've been hired to monitor it closely."

"Why don't you follow me to my office?"

As they both left, the whole room stared directly at Lysimachus, even his own sister. He had absolutely nothing to do with that, except... that he remembered connecting his cell phone to Katherine's computer one night to sync some files.

"Fuck!" He thought. He couldn't have acted so careless.

Priya stood by the door with a victorious grin on her face.

"I told you so," she said before leaving.

----------

Amy

When they finally made back home, a heavy rain started pouring outside. Kamilah was completely stressed, pacing around her home office. At first, she thought to be a scheme plotted by Priya against her brother, until he admitted his mistake. Yet, someone had indeed hired Katherine to have deep access to Adrian's research and they couldn't figure out who.

"I always knew my brother was making a mistake getting involved with those people," Kamilah vented to her. "Sooner or later, it was bound to happen."

"Do you think Priya is actually right?" Amy massaged her wife's tense shoulders. "That he must pick, between New Orleans or being a Council member?"

"The more I hate to admit it, yes. Lacroix is right this time, Amy. Even though my brother has done an amazing job as Clan leader, he can't keep a double life as Nighthunter. He may have put us all in danger, that was the most important information we had in ages."

"And what do we do now?"

They had been together long enough for Amy to decipher all Kamilah's looks. The one she had at the moment meant she was about to suggest something she wouldn't like.

"No..." Amy scowled. "Absolutely not."

"Amy," Kamilah closed her eyes, trying to stay patient. "Adrian agreed. Being a psychic vampire, Serafine can debrief her."

"Doesn't your brother knows how to debrief people? Why her?"

"He's not doing it. Lysimachus thinks it's too extreme and could put her in danger with her employee."

"Okay," Amy threw her hands in defeat, "it's for a good cause I guess. But she's staying away from you."

"Of course."

Suddenly, Kamilah had her pinned down to the bed, eyes red in desire.

"I love when you're jealous," her nail traced Amy's cheek. "I can sense the insecurity in your heart, the fear of losing me to someone else, the thought that you're too inexperienced..."

Kamilah was right. Amy had all of that in mind when it came to Serafine, Gaius or even her Italian girlfriend. The flashes that were now often popping-up in her mind of their moments together only made it worse.

"But truth is..." she whispered in her ear, "no one has made me ever feel this way before," Kamilah placed Amy's hand on her chest, where she could feel her heart beating fast.

"Really?"

Kamilah didn't answer, her eyes were determined to prove Amy her feelings. She drove Amy's hand to another spot, inside her underwear.

"Or this way. You have the power of driving me completely crazy."

"Okay," Amy smiled in satisfaction, feeling how much her wife wanted her. "I see your point now."

She wanted her too. She wanted her really badly. Their mouths had just found each other when a cell phone started buzzing.

"Ignore it," Kamilah ordered, against her mouth. "I don't want to hear anything else, other than you saying my name loud tonight."

It continued. And Amy tried to keep her focus on the tips of Kamilah's fangs brushing her neck. But the buzzing wouldn't stop, for some reason it seemed to grow louder. It was entering her ears causing discomfort. Penetrating her brain like if it was ringing inside it.

"I'm going to pick up," Amy told, pushing her away. "All this noise is giving me a headache."

"Huh?!" Kamilah furrowed her brows confused. "I can barely hear it, it's coming from your purse in the living room."

As Amy grabbed her phone, the number of missed calls scared her but no more than the text from her mother.

"Amy, what's wrong?"

She couldn't answer. She just stared at the screen paralyzed in horror.

"K-Kamilah... it’s my dad... h-he's in hospital. He had a heart attack!"

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound fanfiction #within you

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Epilogue

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Just pure fluff. 

Word count: Approx 3500

Bucky and the Reader have a party to celebrate five years of owning their cafe together and remember some of the best times they’ve had in those years. 

Flashbacks are in italics. 

A/N: THE END IS HERE. I’m both sad and happy, I absolutely adored writing this story and now I feel empty. I have no idea what to write next! I can’t believe that this 21 parter has come to an end. I also can’t believe that this story has been written over 97 pages in Word and in total is 55692 words!! Insane!  Thank you for all of your wonderful support and love for this series 💖

Let me know what you’d like to see next!

__________________________________

Bucky smiled as he watched you propped up against Steve’s side with Sam on your other side and Gemini on your lap, enjoying the vast amounts of attention coming from you and her two uncles as they had since proclaimed themselves.

 It had been five years since you had ownership of the café and you and Bucky were holding a little party amongst your friends to celebrate the five year anniversary of your new and improved life together. Bucky signalled you over back to your original spot at the head of the table next to him, you’d pushed all the tables in the café together to cater for everyone.

 You sat down next to Bucky, Gem insistent on staying with Steve, Sam arguing with him about how he should get Gemini on his lap and not the other way around. Bucky’s arm draped around your shoulder as he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple before gently hitting his glass with his metal finger, getting everyone’s attention.

 “Thank you, everyone for coming.” Bucky started, five years of normal life had increased his confidence by miles and you could see how comfortable he was with speaking in front of everyone, compared to years ago when he could barely even get a word out to Steve when he arrived. “I’d like to say a few words before we start eating.” He went on, Tony sitting up straight and throwing him a look of encouragement, the two of them having grown closer after the events that pushed them all apart during the civil war.

 Bucky glanced over at you as he stood up from his seat, a soft smile on his lips as he looked out across the room. “I remember when I first arrived back at the tower. It was terrifying, I was in a bad way.” Bucky sighed, his smile faltering for a moment as he remembered some of those scary moments. The worst to him was when he was trying to express his feelings to you but his brain wouldn’t let him, causing him to lash out every time he tried. He had hated himself for it, he’d scared you a few times, but it never ceased to amaze him that despite the fear he caused, you always stuck by him.

 “Without you,” Bucky glanced back at you again. “My pretty girl, god, I don’t think I would’ve pulled through the way that I did. I’m sure I could have done it by myself, but I don’t think I’d be in such a good place without you.” He grinned, Pepper letting out an aww from the other end of the table, Tony and Wanda who were on either side of her chuckling and fussing over her when she began to get teary eyed.

 “We’ve spent five years in this coffee shop, doll. We have some great memories here.” Bucky paused, watching everyone’s faces for a moment before continuing. “Right by that window was where we had our first ever date.” Bucky chuckled fondly at the memory, how damn nervous he’d been that day, how hard it had been to admit any kind of feelings, but he was beyond glad that he had. “I also found our girl Gem right outside in the alleyway.” Bucky grinned, the little cat currently taking residence on Steve’s lap still, much to Sam’s displeasure.

 Bucky went on, listing the things you’d done together, not just related to the coffee shop, but also in the tower and the city in general.

The first days of the coffee shop were demanding, but so fulfilling and as Bucky briefly reminisced about the first weeks of your ownership of the shop, you remembered those times vividly.

 “Whoa, do you need some help there, sweetheart?” Steve asked as you accidentally crashed into him, bounced off his chest and stumbled back into Bucky who was right behind you, dropping the box you’d been carrying. “Sorry Stevie, couldn’t see where I was going.” You giggled nervously, your best friend giving you a grin before squeezing your shoulder gently and bending down to pick up the box you’d dropped. “Nice going, you probably broke everything with your brick like chest.” Sam quipped, causing Bucky to snort as Steve rolled his eyes. “It was just books, asshole.” Bucky grumbled, while making sure you were fine.

 “I’ll put this in the reading nook, sweetheart.” Steve called over his shoulder as he walked away with the box. “You take care of organising things how you want. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” Bucky kissed the side of your head before walking away and you happily went ahead to fiddle with the reading corner you’d just finished building at the back of the coffee shop.

 When you were finished with the reading nook, you were so proud of your work. The café was coming along nicely and the main floor was pretty much finished. All the tables and chairs were where you wanted them to be, all laid out the way you and Bucky wanted. The main counter was set up neatly with all the supplies and bits you needed to begin serving customers. You’d spent a good while writing out the menu on a giant chalk board on the wall above the counter and adding little drawings and pictures to the board, mostly space themed.

 Your reading nook looked great, it had several large bookcases, some comfy armchairs, a little loveseat sofa and some bean bags. Sam had helped you unpack the books and you’d taken great pleasure in bossing him around with the placement of all the genres on the taller shelves that you couldn’t reach.

 “Ready for the finishing touch before we open this place up tomorrow?” Bucky asked, walking towards you with a box in his hands. You nodded with a grin and he opened the box, pulling out large bulb string lights, similar to the ones you’d seen on your first dinner date with Bucky. They always gave you that lovely, cosy feeling.

 You stood back as Bucky finished stringing them up and you smiled, your boyfriend coming to stand next to you with his arm around your shoulders. “I think we’re ready.” You grinned up at him. “I think so too.” He smiled, kissing your forehead gently.

 “And we can’t forget when we moved in to the apartment above this place three years ago.” Bucky grinned. “God, it was a mess, we had to completely rip it out and redo it, but it was totally worth it.” He smiled. “Don’t get me started, man, painting those damn pipes for you sucked.” Sam chimed in, while he sounded offended, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he remembered helping you both do up the place. “Shut up, you were proud.” Steve nudged him in the side. “Yeah, but Gem had to go and walk in some paint.” Sam groaned, eliciting a few chuckles and laughs around the table.

 You had just finished helping Steve put down the new wooden flooring in the apartment, the far corner was covered in a tarp as Sam very precisely painted the exposed pipes in a nice duck egg blue colour. Despite his grumbles and complaints, you could tell he was actually enjoying the painting, as much as he liked to make it appear as if he hated it.

 “Almost done up here, you still taking us out for drinks after, Terminator?” Sam called over his shoulder at Bucky who snorted, a smirk working its way onto his lips as he pulled up some painters tape from the other week that had accidentally been left on the skirting board. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going as soon as we’re done, promise.” Bucky nodded as he balled up the tape.

 Suddenly, as you went off to wash your hands, you heard Sam shriek like you’d never heard before. “No, no, no, no!” He cried out, Steve and Bucky immediately collapsing into laughter as Gemini leapt out of the paint tray Sam had been using and ran straight across the new deep brown wooden flooring. You smiled fondly as Bucky scooped up the little Maine Coon whilst she wildly protested and he took her out of the room to clean her up.

 “Oh shit, I’m so sorry, you just put that flooring down.” Sam groaned. “I should’ve known better than to put the damn tray on the floor.” He huffed, moving to start clearing up the paint but you let out a cacophony of unintelligible noises to stop him. Both Steve and Sam looked at you a little confused, Steve tilting his head to the side. “Leave it, I kinda like the paw prints.” You giggled, admiring Gemini’s little bright blue paw prints on the flooring. “But she made a mess!” Sam protested, sure that it was better to just clear it up. “Nah, she added her artistic flair to the place.” You giggled, shaking it off.

 Bucky was far from disappointed when he discovered that you’d asked the boys not to clear up the paint and he thoroughly enjoyed the line of prints that stretched from one end of the living area to the other. “Kinda makes it a bit more homey, don’t you think?” Bucky asked as you both enjoyed the little prints on the floor. “Definitely.” You nodded with a grin.

 “Ooh and not to mention two years ago when Cap finally asked Nat out on a date.” Tony cut in, Nat grinning fondly at her boyfriend as he squeezed her hand. “You lost your touch as a spy that day, Barnes.” Nat giggled. “Hey, I retired from spying years ago, Natalia.” Bucky used her full first name as he pointed at her with a raised bow, trying hard to hold back his playful smile and failing.

 “Hey, sweetheart. One black coffee, a latte macchiato and two of your best cakes, please.” Steve grinned at you while Nat discreetly held his hand under the counter, but you could see what was going on. “You got it Cap.” You playfully saluted at him before shuffling off to make his drinks, leaving Bucky in charge of ringing up their order for cakes and serving the next person.

 “Two coffees, a Sol muffin and a Luna muffin.” You smiled, setting down the tray and handing both Steve and Nat their cakes. “Thanks, sweetheart.” Steve smiled at you and as you were walking away you glanced back to see them holding hands again, trying hard to hide it.

 “Hey pretty girl.” Bucky spoke softly as you sidled up to him during a break between customers, having served the whole line of people, you had a few minutes before either of you needed to serve again. “Hey Buck, you notice Steve and Nat?” You asked, nodding your head in their direction. Bucky scoffed and nodded. “Of course I noticed, how could I not notice my best friend and his crush?” Bucky asked, obviously not catching your drift. “No, no, I meant really notice.” You pushed a little, glancing in their direction as they giggled over something.

 “They look like they’re getting cosy over there.” He remarked, watching as they both got up at moved over to the reading nook. Perhaps they thought you couldn’t seem them around the corner, but both you and Bucky slowly peered over the counter, keeping yourselves hidden behind a display on the countertop. Bucky leaned over, head just above yours and he watched the pair as he drank down some of your homemade tea he’d brewed from himself.

 “Oh my god.” You spoke under your breath, watching as Steve and Nat started making out on the loveseat. Bucky almost near choked to death on his tea, almost spilling it everywhere, but managed to stop himself, both Steve and Nat catching you both watching them and you shyly smiled and waved at them before disappearing behind the counter, Bucky completely frozen as he stared at them. All they could see was your little hand wrapping around his shirt collar and pulling him out of their line of sight before they laughed it off and continued their date in the back of your coffee shop.  

 “We’re just glad you two finally started dating, it was about damn time!” Sam nudged Steve in the side. “You didn’t have to get dirty on my loveseat!” Bucky chuckled at the couple once they’d retold the story, several people butting in with random details and small observations here and there. “Oh come on, I’m sure you two have gotten dirtier than us in this café.” Nat winked, making both Bucky and Steve blush while you sunk down a little in your seat. “Besides, it’s called a loveseat for a reason, right?” Pietro cut in, Sam trying to stop his laughter as Clint playfully smacked Pietro’s arm. “Right.” Nat grinned. “I know what you two get up to.” She winked at you, making your eyes go wide as you slid further down.

“I bet you-.”

“I don’t wanna know!” Peter interrupted, standing up awkwardly from his seat, sending Tony into a fit of giggles at his awkwardness. “Can you tell us something less… Incriminating?” He squeaked out as he sat back down again, Bucky snorting at his reaction.

 “Okay, okay there is one more story.” Bucky smiled, you looked up at him a little perplexed. Perhaps there was one you had forgotten. “This started a few weeks ago.” Bucky began, shifting in his step a little. “Stand up doll, you’re the main focus of this one.” He gestured for you to get up, holding out his hand for you to grab onto as you stood. “So I went out a few weeks ago, I’d been thinking about today a lot, I wanted to make our little party special.” Bucky smiled fondly at everyone. “On my way back I stopped at a store and I saw something so perfect for today that I just had to get it.” He grinned. “I didn’t get it out until now because it’s a surprise.” Bucky turned to you.

 “So, in celebration of our years in this café, I wanted to give you something.” Bucky grinned. “You helped me through so much, you helped me to become human again and learn how to function properly. It wasn’t just the big things, it was small stuff too, like sitting on chairs and sleeping on an actual bed and not the floor.” He went on, everyone falling silent as they listened, Bucky’s full attention was on you this time, rather than the whole group. “You helped me embrace love again, to accept the feeling of love again.” Bucky almost teared up himself when he saw you getting glassy eyed. “I wanted and still want to do everything I possibly ever can to repay everything you’ve given me.” He choked out, taking a short pause to compose himself.

 “So, this is the start of that.” Bucky spoke quietly, quickly pulling out a box from his pocket and dropping to one knee, the whole table was suddenly a mixture of gasps and hushed whispers of surprise. You clapped your hands over your mouth in surprise, tears springing to your eyes as you let them run freely down your cheeks.

 “Doll, pretty girl, darlin’, will you marry me?” Bucky asked, flipping open the top of the box as he tried to hold his own emotions together, just long enough that he’d be able to see your reactions clearly. You couldn’t speak, your throat felt like it was too tight to even form words, so you nodded frantically, letting out a few sobs as you let Bucky take your left hand in his so he could slide the ring on. It wasn’t a diamond, it was something more unique, something that fit both you and Bucky so well. It was a little space rock, a Lunar rock to be exact and it was beautiful.

 Everyone waited for your moment to pass before they erupted into cheers and celebration. Tears were cried, hugs were shared and smiles all around. Pepper practically wept the whole way through, Wanda joining her while Pietro held her hand and shared a few of his own tears with his sister at the sweet engagement. Steve was bawling, tears streaming down his face as he watched his two best friends get engaged, one of which he considered his little sister and he thought about how you’d both changed and grown so much over the years, how both of you had been so good for each other.

 The party went on after everyone had celebrated your engagement and Tony, Pepper and Steve decided they would take over the catering rather than you and Bucky, allowing you both to enjoy the party while they served the food and drinks and later the dessert and alcohol, Steve insisting on staying behind at the end to help clear up, along with Thor who’d been adamant he needed to help out.

 The boys had left after clearing up, locking up the downstairs before they went home while you and Bucky took things upstairs to your apartment. Gemini had made herself comfortable in one of her many cat beds that had been gifted to her. She was often treated like a spoiled little kid, given a plethora of toys, beds, hiding spots, clothing and general gifts here and there.

 “God, this is the life I dreamed of every night.” Bucky sighed as he held you close, your head resting on his bare chest. “Living in a nice place with a pretty girl who I’m engaged to, a sweet little cat and a job that I genuinely enjoy.” Bucky spoke quickly as he brushed some of your hair out of the way. “Never thought I’d have any of this, if I’m honest.” He sighed and you squeezed him around the middle. “I’m the luckiest man alive.” He whispered. “We’re both lucky, Buck. You changed my life for the better.” You smiled into his chest as you snuggled a little closer to him. “So did you, doll.” Bucky agreed, keeping his voice quiet as he held you tightly against him.

 You lay in silence for a few moments, both of you enjoying the company of one another. Bucky gently took your hand in his as he quietly studied the ring on your finger. You both smiled at it, it felt like you’d ended another chapter of your story together and begun a new one.

 “I’m glad we have each other, doll. I wish I could go back and tell myself that I had something so wonderful to look forward to, perhaps it would have helped me not break so much.” Bucky sighed. “Perhaps we were supposed to help each other.” You pondered. You’d both fixed each other, not necessarily with romance, most of it had been through gentle friendship at the start, coaxing each other to open up and find comfort in one another before it slowly turned romantic.

“Perhaps we were.” Bucky nodded, a soft smile on his face as he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently.

 “I think I’m ready for the next part of our journey.” Bucky murmured, looking down at you. “I think I am too.” You grinned up at him.

Bucky leaned down and captured your soft lips in a gentle kiss, his warmth against you as he kissed you slow and passionately. He couldn’t be happier. You’d given him everything he needed and more. He was ready to take on the whole damn world for you if that’s what you wanted. Bucky’s tongue gently caressed yours as he cradled your head with his hand, the other gripping your waist as your fingers gripped at the nape of his neck and brushed at his beard. A soft hum rumbled through his chest as he kissed you, wanting to remember every detail of you, every detail of the day that he’d proposed to you.

 When he broke the kiss, Bucky looked down at your soft eyes, his heart melting at the sight of your sweet features and he grinned. “I love you.” He whispered, gently brushing some of your hair away. “I love you too, Bucky.” You smiled up at him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away again and settling down against his side.

God, I am so damn lucky. We are so lucky.

You did it Barnes, you got the life you wanted with the girl you love.

Bucky stayed awake as you fell asleep against him and he smiled to himself, thinking about all the ways he wanted to show you love and all the things he wanted to do with you in your next chapter of life together.

He couldn’t wait.

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@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie @paintballkid711 @lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz @mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf @geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii @mochibarnes @anyasthoughts @miamua-posts @megantje123 @sideeffectsofyou 

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[in-tua-deep]

I have seen some fics of Five going to high school (and often falling in love with a 13 y/o oc girl which icks me tf out bc that’s an old man, guys) to socialize which gave me the idea of Five befriending old people who are also physically old. For example, Hannah, the German lady in her 80s who poisoned nazis when she was a child. Then there’s Joan who spent his life fighting to achieve his goals despite having to deal with near-constant racism. Just. Five getting along with all these old ppl

you’re RIGHT and consider: Klaus decides it’s a good idea to take Five along to his weekly ladies over fifty stitch ‘n bitch and is surprised and delighted to find that Five actually genuinely gets along with all of them

there is, of course, Hannah who poisoned Nazis and her and five trade poisoning methods the way other people might trade coveted family recipes. Hannah declares Five to be a “nice young man” and the fact that she is in her 80s or 90s means that she is absolutely allowed to get away with it

Fiona is a 60something butch lesbian who proudly displays her mugshots along the walls of her house for everyone to gaze upon in awe when it’s her turn to host. Her wife, Mandy, always makes snickerdoodle cookies and fondly talks about the time her and “Fee” got arrested because Fee kicked a cop in the balls or something. 

Doris was an army nurse during her youth and can curse well enough to make a sailor blush and has the bawdiest sense of humor to match. She spends most of her time knitting baby socks and hats to donate and volunteers at a community center where she sneaks food to any hungry teens who have all adopted her as their odd aunt.

Nada immigrated in her teens with her parents and has had to deal with Islamophobia her entire life. She wears a khimār that she knitted herself and laughs when Five genuinely offers to kill any assholes who harass her. Instead, she starts teaching him Arabic since her own grandchildren unfortunately do not speak it

Edith was trans before anybody even knew what that meant and she teaches Five patterns for interesting dresses and fancy sweaters since Five expresses some interest in diversifying his wardrobe (Five personally stands by the fact that skirts and dresses are the best because!! if you lift up front you have INSTANT POCKET/BAG which was very useful in the apocalypse!! of course now his family protest about him flashing underwear or whatever. Edith just introduces him to wearing leggings under and calls it a day)

Kathy killed her first husband and everyone knows it even if she was never convicted. She spends her days volunteering at centers for domestic violence and working with abused women and children. She tells Klaus and Five quite plainly that if Reginald were still alive she would kill him, and they laugh but they absolutely believe her. Five sincerely tells her he would kill her husband if he were still alive as well, and Kathy grins and winks and says she beat him to that one

and all the others. Sally who worked customer service her whole life and lived to tell the tale. Ruby who was widowed young and raised four kids by herself. Alice who is deaf and signs slowly because her parents thought she needed speech therapy to appear normal more than she needed an actual way to communicate. Becca was a teen during the civil rights movement and witnessed schools being desegregated, and is quick to remind everyone that it wasn’t as long ago as they think - she remembers the white kids jeering and the protests like it was yesterday. Susan’s husband died in the Vietnam war and she is very quiet when she finds out that he was in Klaus’s unit. 

A rotating cast of women with vibrant and brilliant and unique lives who parade through. Some are fixtures, some come when they’re able which isn’t often, some only pop in on the rare occasion when the planets align.

“Go get the salsa dip, Five.” Kathy orders.

“Why do I always have to fetch everything.” Five complains, even as he stands up.

“Because you can teleport.” Kathy says with a shrug, “If I could teleport then it would be me going to get the salsa, wouldn’t it?”

Five goes and gets the damn salsa.

One time a new woman is very confused and asks about Klaus and Five’s presence at the Women’s 50 and over knitting club (“It’s the stitch ‘n bitch,” Klaus mutters under his breath and is ignored) and everyone just kind of shrugs. 

“Women and nonbinary old person support and knitting group?” Edith suggests but everyone agrees that that’s a bit of a mouthful.

“But they’re too young?” The new woman asks again, helplessly.

“Actually Klaus fought with my husband in the Vietnam war.” Susan interjects cheerfully before Klaus can start his theatrics, passing the oatmeal raisin cookies to Hannah who is cackling delightedly, “And Five assassinated President Kennedy, I think.”

“Allegedly assassinated President Kennedy.” Five corrects with a flourish of his knitting needles as Kathy nods in approval. 

“Oh.” The new woman says, faintly. “Oh, I think I need to sit down.”

“Don’t worry, dear.” Sally comforts, “It’s only that family which doesn’t make sense. You can probably count on the rest of the world to be at least a little bit sensible.”

“I find it offensive that no one here thinks I’m not too young to be here.” Becca interjects and that sets everyone off laughing and falling over themselves to assure her that she’s as pretty as a picture and fresh as a daisy

i’m having a lot of fun with this as you might be able to tell. Just. Five and Klaus joining in old people things because Five IS old and Klaus fought in the vietnam war so you bet your ass he is demanding the senior citizen discount at restaurants

i feel like Agnes should join the group after her romantic tour of bird sanctuaries with Hazel. Hazel himself is not sure how to feel about Klaus and Five being in the same knitting club as his girlfriend but Agnes is clearly having fun and she makes homemade doughnuts for meetings which means the club isn’t letting go of her voluntarily anyway

AND THEN YEAH i always loved the concept of Klaus meeting up with some of the guys from his old unit and all of them just being kind of like “ah klaus you fucker i never actually took you seriously about the time travel shit i just thought you were on some serious drugs” and immediately just adopt klaus back into the fold

and i mean five is also a soldier in a low of ways so i feel like he would also really fit in with their gallows humor and serious knowledge of weapons. Of course, both Klaus and Five also look young enough to be their grandchildren so they also highkey just straight up adopt them and are fully willing to loom ominously at anyone who bothers them

the hargreeves go to pride and Klaus is like “oh I’m meeting up with some friends as well :)” and the others assume they’re like. party friends he made or ex boyfriends or something and then this big gang of old war vets materialize from the crowd decked out in rainbows bc they do this every year - originally in honor of Klaus and Dave but now klaus is again so Time To Party B)

Five “volunteers” in a nursing home and all the staff think he’s adorable and precocious but actually he complains about technology and reminisces about the great depression and beats the occupants at checkers as he and his opponent trade stories about which joint and bones they can feel storms coming in

just AGE APPROPRIATE FRIENDS

#ask me #stelte23 #you - i like you #i agree that five should not be paired with any teen ever #where's that one gif of the vampire dude being like 'people are like what's what young thing doing with that thousands of years old vampire' #with his 80 yr old gf #far tua long #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #klaus hargreeves #i had too much fun with this as you can probably tell #klaus is technically only 30 including his year away #but the club handwaves that away #he's the only one they made an exception for #can i admit that the 'ladies over 50 stitch and bitch' is actually a concept from a different drabble i wrote in class today #bc of something my prof said #so i guess that drabble is a prequel to this yelling bc that's pre five being persuaded to go

[athenadcvell]

Hi cutie pie!! Can i request something where Bucky returns the infinity stones with Steve, just because he wants see his 40s sweetheart, the girl he promise that when he returns from the war they gonna get married, and now he can see her again he take the opportunity and marry her and have a dream family he always wants and dreams, obviously Steve and Peggy are part of the reader and Bucky life.

@thisisntmyrightera I am so sorry it took so long! I meant to get it done before school started, and then I got busy, and as soon as school started I couldn’t find the time to sit down and write. However, while pulling some all nighters, I managed to find time to fit in writing your requested fanfic as well! Hope it meets your expectations!

Word Count: 2,329

Warnings: None, just fluff tbh. Not even much angst (surprise surprise)

A/N: I’m not gonna lie, this was some pretty new ground for me. I’ve never actually completed a reader insert (I prefer OC’s, lmao) but this was a lot of fun! Enjoy!

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! LOOK HERE FOR WHAT YOU CAN SUBMIT!

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It was an average day. Nothing special. The funeral was over. Families had reunited. Even schools had begun the process of reopening. However, for a certain group of heroes, today meant everything. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Bruce were gathered in the woods, far from civilization, ready to begin the process of returning the stones. 

"Steve," Bucky pulled Steve aside as Bruce and Sam worked on getting the machine to start up. "I know what you're trying to do."

"What do you mean?" Steve attempted to play dumb, but he knew. It was near impossible for the two to lie to each other. Bucky raised a brow, his eyes darting to the machine. 

"Steve," He said quietly, so Sam nor Bruce had to hear. "We both know you have no intention of coming back home."

"How-"

"As soon as you grabbed the stones, I knew," Bucky smiled sadly. "I'm not going to try to talk you out of it. Not this time."

A relieved smile stretched across Steve's lips. Permission from Bucky. Permission to go back and be with the woman he loved, without having to feel guilt about it. 

"But, I do have one condition," Bucky's smile dropped, suddenly very serious. Steve crossed his arms, nodding. 

"Of course. What is it?"

"Take me with you," Steve was silent at his best friend's words, not fully registering them. 

"Back to the 40's?" Steve raised a brow, just to clarify. Bucky's nod told him all he needed to know. "Buck…"

"I know what you're going to say," Bucky held up a hand, before Steve could object. "But Steve, you weren't the only one to someone behind."

Steve frowned, not quite understanding where Bucky was going with this. Until it hit him. 

Y/N. 

Y/N Y/L/N. 

The girl he had been in love with, that he had proposed to all those years ago. She had been a friend of Steve and Bucky, sharing the same art class at school. Of course, Bucky had never been too talented of an artist, but Y/N and Steve had bonded over it. Being friends with Steve immediately lead to friends with Bucky, and one thing lead to another. Next thing Bucky and Y/N knew, they were head over heels in love. It was a fairytale. 

Until it wasn't. 

Steve had sought her out when he had come out of the ice, along with all his other friends from his time. It had saddened him to find she had died in a car crash with a friend  fifteen years after he went into the ice and Bucky 'died'. 

Steve knew he should have said no. It was the responsible thing to do. 

But he was done being the responsible one. He spent almost sixteen years being the responsible and courageous leader. And where did that get him?

Banished from his own country. Losing one of his closest friends. Watching the love of his life die. Bearing witness to his two best friends turning to dust. Spending five years in a broken world, and in the end, when everything was fixed, the greatest man he knew died right in front of him. Going back to Peggy… that's Steve's redemption. That's his happy ending. Is it smart to leave right now? Maybe not. But Steve didn't want to use his brain right now. He wanted to use his heart.

So why shouldn't he let Bucky have that happiness as well? Sure, Bucky may be a bit different now. But in the end, he's still Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes, who has a quick mouth and kind heart. And Y/N… she would never turn him away. She loved him far too much. 

"Okay," Steve said quietly, nodding. Bucky's brows shot up. He honestly thought it would require more of a fight. There goes the whole argument he had planned. "Go get a suit from Bruce. I could use the help, anyway."

****

"That was hell," Bucky murmured under his breath as the Paym Particles bring the pair to their last destination: Brooklyn, 1940. Every single stone has been returned to its original timeline. Everything has returned back to the way it's supposed to be, and each timeline had fallen back into place. 

"Tell me about it," Steve agreed, running a hand through his blonde locks. "Why didn't anybody tell us Red Skull was the stone keeper?"

"They didn't know?"

"The guy was in every history book in every classroom. How do you 'not know'?" Steve rolled his eyes. Bucky laughed at his friend's antics, however, it quieted down as he realized where they were. Peggy Carter's home in Brooklyn. 

Steve looked up for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. This is it. The moment he's waited for for far too long. The dance he promised the girl of his dreams all those years ago. Inside that house, waits that very girl. 

"Go ahead, punk," Bucky grinned, nudging Steve gently. "Go be with her. Give her that dance."

Steve looked back, shocking Bucky with tears brimming his waterline. 

"You'll be alright?" The blonde asked softly. "Going to Y/N by yourself? You remember the way?" Bucky chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 

"Steve, I used to sneak out almost every night as a kid to go and meet her at her apartment," Bucky smirked. "I remember the way just fine."

And it was true. He did. After bidding farewell to Steve, and promising to meet up with him later, Bucky began his adventure to Y/N's house, which was not all too far away from Peggy's.

The former assassin doesn't ever remember being this nervous for… well, anything. While returning the stones, Bucky thought maybe he should see his family first. His sisters, and mother, and father. However, seeing Y/N overpowered everything. He would reunite with his family later. Right now, he wanted to be with the girl he loved.

She thinks he's dead. It's only been a few weeks, after all. A few weeks since the news came out- James Buchanan Barnes, the Howling Commando to give his life during duty. Y/N, and all his friends and family, are currently mourning. Perhaps they've already attended the funeral, burying an empty casket. What will she think when she sees him? Will she be angry? Happy? Horrified?

Bucky's was different. He knew he was different. Seventy years of torture changed a man, after all. Would she still love him? His broken self? Would she still love him knowing the things he was forced to do?

It made Bucky's stomach uneasy to think of it. It made him want to take the last bits of the Pym particles and zap himself back to the future, back to Sam and a world that hated him. It seemed easier than the thought of rejection from the most important person to him. 

But his mother didn't raise a coward. 

Eventually, Bucky got there. He got to her apartment building, and walked up the flight of stairs, right in front of her door. It was easy to find. The door with the horribly painted flower pot, the homemade gift he had given her for her twenty-second birthday. Steve had tried to teach him how to paint it, to make it more 'thoughtful'. However, Bucky was never very artistic, unlike his fiance and best friend. It didn't keep Y/N from loving and cherishing the gift. It was still there, with small flowers peeking out of the soil. 

"Okay," Bucky let out a breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You can do this Buck. Just knock."

So he did. 

It seemed like an eternity until he heard a response. 

"Just a minute!" That voice. God, that sweet, melodic voice. How he's missed her voice, missed her giggles and shrieks of laughter. It made his heart yearn for Y/N to open the door, to stand there and realize her fiance was back. 

As soon as the door creaked open, Bucky couldn't help the tears from flowing over his ocean eyes. There she stood, in all her beauty. She wasn't wearing anything special. A simple, pale blue dress, not a bit of make-up, and her H/C locks piled into a ponytail at the top of her head. 

But to him? It was like looking at a goddess, and it made his heart overwhelmed with feelings. 

"Can I help you?" She asked sweetly, pursing her lips. Of course she wouldn't recognize him. 

The beard, the hair, and the stress lines indented into his skin. Not to mention the clouds covering his once bright blue eyes… Bucky looked completely different. 

"Y-Y/N," Bucky cleared his throat, his voice still cracking from the tears. He doesn't have to say anything more, as her E/C eyes widen in realization. 

Bucky expected her to be angry. He expected her to scream, and yell, and hit him in rage. In rage over the fact that he had not come home all this time, when he was alive. 

Or he expected shock. For Y/N to freeze in her spot, and shake her head. To be terrified that her very dead fiance was standing in front of her, aged and broken. 

What she did instead shocked him. 

"Buck," Y/N whispered in a small voice. Bucky had to strain to hear her. Her face crumbled into tears as she cupped his cheek gently, her thumb stroking his face. Bucky melted into it, grasping her arm to keep her from moving it. "You're home."

And he was. Years, no, decades, he spent under Hydra's rule. Almost a century of torture and murder, an uncountable amount of blood on his hands. But here? Here, in Brooklyn, the love of his life caressing him? That was home. That would always be home. 

"I'm home," Bucky nodded in confirmation, lips trembling. He doesn't want to make any sudden movements. Not yet. She needed to process all this. 

Y/N took a slow step forward, lowering her hand to grasp his. That was when she felt the hardness under his right hand. 

Bucky didn't stop her from prying off the glove, but his heart beat at an unhealthy pace as she did. He waited for the flinch, and look of horror. The one that always was there when someone saw the mutation. 

Y/N didn't flinch. She didn't back away in fear. Instead, she gently slid her fingers through his, feeling the cool metal in her palm. She slipped his other hand from his flesh one and ran it against his beard, and through his long locks of hair. 

"You're different," She said quietly, E/C eyes peering up through thick lashes, meeting his ocean ones. A small but teary smile stretched across her lips. "But you're still Bucky."

It didn't feel like one of their other kisses. It didn't feel like their first one, or when they would say hello or goodbye. Or the kiss when Bucky had to leave for the army. Not even the engagement kiss could do this one justice. 

Words couldn hardly even begin to describe this kiss. As soon as her lips brushed against his, it was as if a weight had been lifted off Bucky's shoulders. The guilt and remorse, the pain and dark thoughts that always lingered… they drifted off into space, and left him here, with her. There was no Winter Soldier, or Thanos, or Hydra. There was only Y/N. 

And that was all he needed. 

***

"What about… Ruby?" 

"Oh God, no."

"What's wrong with Ruby?"

"A girl who called my hair ugly in fifth grade was named Ruby. How about Taylor?"

"Like Taylor Swift?"

" … who?"

"Nevermind. Say another one."

"Oh!" Y/N held a finger up, still being careful to keep her voice down. "What about Samantha? We can nickname her Sam for-"

"No!" Bucky cut her off quickly, shaking his head. Y/N slaps his arm, holding a finger to her lips. 

"Shh! You're going to wake her," She hissed, both of them peering down to see if they had woken the referred individual up. 

'Her' being the tiny bundle in Y/N's arms. Their newly born baby girl. 

It felt like just yesterday Bucky had reunited with Y/N. It all happened so quickly. Hugging his parents and sisters for the first time in eighty years. Planning the wedding. Marrying the love of his life. Trying for three years to have a child. Finding out they were going to be parents. And now. Sitting in the hospital room, holding the newest addition to the Barnes family in their arms. 

She was so tiny, to Bucky. He had been scared to hold her at first, given how small she was. It wasn't that he wasn't good with children, because Bucky was in fact an expert with them. Having three younger sisters happens to do that to a person. However, she was so small. He didn't remember babies being this small. 

But the second the doctor handed her to him, and her E/C eyes pried open and peered up at him… his heart filled with love for this unbelievably tiny human being. This tiny human being who he had helped make. 

"What about B/N B/M/N?" Bucky asked softly, running a hand against his daughter's thin brown locks of hair. Y/N looked up, a beaming smile on her face. 

"Oh my God, Buck!" She tucked a strand of his hair that had escaped from his ponytail away. "That's' perfect, I love it."

Both gazed back down at their baby, who was sleeping peacefully, tucked away within the soft purple fabric of her blanket. 

The serenity only lasted for a moment as a loud knock echoed behind the door. 

"Come in," Bucky called raising a brow. However, it formed into a smile as four familiar figures pile into the room. 

"Hey," Steve gave them a small wave, holding the door open for the rest of his family. "Are we the first one's here?"

"You are," Y/N smiled, giving Peggy a soft greeting as she rushed up to her. 

"Oh, she's beautiful," Peggy held a hand against her heart as B/N's eyes began to open from her slumber. 

"Everyone," Bucky scooped up his child, holding her tightly against his chest. "I'd like you to meet B/N B/M/N Barnes. Our daughter."

"She kind of looks like a potato."

"Samuel!" Peggy's snapped at her six year old, eyes wide at his comment. 

"But she kind of does," His twin agreed, giggling. Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

"Natasha, don't encourage your brother."

"It's fine," Y/N laughed tiredly, running a hand though her messy hair. To just the children, she added, "She gets the potatoness from Uncle Buck."

"Hey!" Bucky yelped, causing a string of giggles to emit from both his wife and the children. Peggy returned back to Y/N's side, already quite aware of the toll childbirth has on a woman. Steve, however, approaches the newly born baby in his best friend's arms. 

"She really is breathtaking," He murmured, using a finger to shift the blanket from B/N's soft cheeks. Bucky stared down lovingly at this child… his child. 

"I never thought I would ever get this," Bucky says softly, his voice cracking. "The wife, and the kids. I always thought my life would end with a Hydra soldier shooting me through the skull."

Steve gazed up, sympathy in his bright blue eyes. However, Bucky's sight rested elsewhere. On her. The one person who made all of this possible. 

"But here I am, holding my daughter, and her mother is the love of my life. It all feels so surreal… I feel like it's a dream and I'm going to wake up soon."

Steve laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly. "It's not a dream Buck. This is it. This is your happy ending," Bucky looked up, a fresh set of tears brimming his eyes. Was it? Was this all real? Was this his happy ending?

If so, Bucky couldn't wish for a better one. 

***

Or is it a dream....? 

Jkjk, I won’t make this angsty. Or will I...?

Hope you enjoyed! 

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! LOOK HERE FOR WHAT YOU CAN SUBMIT!

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #winter soldier #self insert #reader insert #bucky barnes self insert #y/n #buckyxreader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #fanfic #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfic #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #peggy carter #hayley atwell #margaret carter #agent carter #avengers: endgame #endgame #ae #the avengers #avengers #steggy

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 12

The Flat Five

It’s November, and the culture is telling us to be thankful again, at least from a distance. We’re a prickly, argumentative bunch here at Dusted, but I think we can all agree on gratitude for our health, each other and the music, good and bad, that comes flooding in from all sides. So while we may not agree on whether the best genre is free jazz or acid folk or vintage punk or the most virulent form of death metal, we do concur that the world would be very dull without any of it. And thus, seasonably overstuffed, but with music, we opine on a number of the best of them once again. Contributors this time include Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Mason Jones, Patrick Masterson, Jonathan Shaw and Justin Cober-Lake. Happy thanksgiving. 

Cristián Alvear / Burkhard Stangl — Pequeños Fragmentos De Una Música Discreta (Insub)

Pequeños fragmentos de una música discreta by CRISTIÁN ALVEAR & BURKHARD STANGL

The acoustic guitar creates instant common ground. Put together two people with guitars in their hands together, and they can potentially communicate without knowing a word of each other’s language. They might trade blues licks, verses of “Redemption Song,” or differently dire remembrances of “Hotel California,” but they’re bound to find some sort of common language. This album documents another chapter in the eternal search. Cristián Alvear is a Chilean classical guitarist who has found a niche interpreting modern, and often experimental repertoire. Burkhard Stangl is an Austrian who has spent time playing jazz with Franz Koglmann, covering Prince with Christoph Kurzmann and realizing compositions that use the language of free improvisation with Polwechsel. This CD collects eight “Small Fragments Of Discreet Music” which they improvised in the course of figuring out what they could play together. Given their backgrounds, dissonance is part of the shared language, but thanks to the instrumentation, nothing gets too loud. Sometimes they explore shared material, such as the gentle drizzle of harmonics on “No5.” Other times, they find productive contrasts, such as the blurry slide vs. palindromic melody on “No6.” And just once, they flip on the radio and wax melancholic while the static sputters. Sometimes small, shared moments are all you need.

Bill Meyer

 Badge Époque Ensemble — Self Help (Telephone Explosion Records)

Self Help by Badge Époque Ensemble

 Toronto collective Badge Époque Ensemble display the tastefully virtuosic skill of a particular strain of soul-inflected jazz-fusion that politely nudged its way into the charts during the 1970s. Led by Max Turnbull (the erstwhile Slim Twig) on Fender Rhodes, clavinet and synthesizers with members of US Girls, Andy Shauf’s live band and a roster of guest vocalists, Badge Époque Ensemble faithfully resurrect the sophisticated sounds of Blue Nun fuelled fondue parties and stoned summer afternoons by the pool. Meg Remy and Dorothea Paas share vocals on “Sing A Silent Gospel” which is garlanded with Karen Ng’s alto saxophone and an airy solo from guitarist Chris Bezant; it’s a track that threatens to take off but never quite does. The strength of James Baley’s voice lifts the light as air psych-funk of “Unity (It’s Up To You)” and Jennifer Castle does the same for “Just Space For Light” during which Alia O’Brien makes the case for jazz flute — Mann rather than Dolphy — with an impressive solo. The most interesting track here is the 11 minute “Birds Fly Through Ancient Ruins” a broodingly introspective piece which allows Bezant, Ng and bassist Giosuè Rosati to shine. Self-Help is immaculately played and has some very good moments but can’t quite get loose enough to convince.

Andrew Forell  

 Better Person — Something to Lose (Arbutus)

Something to Lose by Better Person

Like any musical genre, synth-pop can go desperately awry in the wrong hands. The resurgence of all things 1980s has been such a prevalent musical trend in recent years that it takes a deft touch to create something that taps into the retro vibe without coming across as smug. Under his Better Person moniker, Berlin-based Polish artist Adam Byczyowski manages to summon the melancholy vibe of 1980s classics such as “Last Christmas” by Wham!, “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin, and “Drive” by The Cars, reimagined for the 21st century and set in a run-down karaoke bar. This succinct and elegant half-hour set pivots around atmospheric instrumental “Glendale Evening” and features three Polish-language tracks — “Na Zawsze” (“Forever”), “Dotknij Mnie” (“Touch Me”), and “Ostatni Raz” (“Last Time”) ��� that emphasize the feel of cruising solo through another country and tuning into a unfamiliar radio station. There’s roto-toms, glassy synth tones, suitably melodramatic song titles (including “Hearts on Fire,” “True Love,” and “Bring Me To Tears”), plus Byczyowski’s disaffected croon. It all creates something unexpectedly moving.

Tim Clarke

 Big Eyes Family — The Disappointed Chair (Sonido Polifonico)

The Disappointed Chair by Big Eyes Family

Sheffield’s Big Eyes Family (formerly The Big Eyes Family Players) released the rather fine Oh! on Home Assembly Music in 2016. Its eerie blend of folk and psych-pop brought to mind early Broadcast, circa Work and Non Work, before Trish Keenan and James Cargill started to explore more experimental timbres and themes of the occult. Bar perhaps the haunted music box instrumental “Witch Pricker’s Dream,” Oh!’s songs cleaved along a similar grain: minor keys, chiming arpeggiated guitar, spooky organ, in-the-pocket rhythm section, plus Heather Ditch’s vocal weaving around the music like smoke. The Disappointed Chair is much the same, enlivened with a touch more light and shade, from succinct waltz “(Sing Me Your) Saddest Song,” to the elegant Mellotron and tom-toms of “For Grace.” “From the Corner of My Eye” is stripped right back, with an especially affecting guitar line, plus Ditch’s vocals doubled, with the same words spoken and sung, like a voice of conscience nagging at the edge of the frame. It’s a strong set of songs, only let down by the boxy snare sound on “Blue Light,” and on “The Conjurer,” Ditch’s lower register isn’t nearly as strident as her upper range.

Tim Clarke

 Bounaly — Music For WhatsApp 10 (Sahel Sounds)

Music from Saharan WhatsApp 10 by Bounaly

The tenth installment in Sahel Sounds’ Music For WhatsApp series introduces another name worth remembering. In case your attention hasn’t been solely faced on the ephemeral charms of contemporary Northwest African music in 2020, here’s the scoop: Each month, Sahel sounds uploads a brief recording that a musician from that corner of the world recorded on their cell phone and delivered via the titular app, which is the current mode of music transmission in that neck of the woods. At the end of the month they take it down, and that’s that. This edition was posted on November 11, so set your watch accordingly. Bounaly is originally from Niafounké, which was the home of the late, great Ali Farka Touré. Since civil war and outside intervention have rendered the city unsafe for musicians of any speed, he now works in Mali’s capital city, Bamako, but his music is rooted in the bluesy guitar style that Touré championed. Accompanied solely by a calabash player and surrounded by street sounds, Bounaly’s singing closely shadows his picking, which is expressive without resorting to the amped-up shredding of contemporary guitarists like Mdou Moctar.

Bill Meyer  

 Cash Click Boog — Voice of the Struggle (CMC-CMC)

Last year, Cash Click Boog made a few very noticeable appearances on other people albums (especially on Lonnie Bands’ “Shred 1.5” and Rockin Rolla’s First Quarter) but his own Extras was a minor effort. This Californian rapper was always a dilettante at music, but that was his main appeal and ineradicable feature: you always knew that he’s always caught up in some very dark street business, and he appears in a booth once every blue moon, almost by accident. He is that sort of a player who always on the bleachers, yet when they let him on the field he always does a triple double or a hat trick (depending on a kind of sport).

Voice of the Struggle was supposed to be his big break, the album in which he would expend his gift for rapping while remaining in strictly amateurish frame. Sadly, Boog has chosen another route, namely going pop. He discards his amateur garbs almost completely and auto-tunes every track. If earlier he was too dark even by street standards, now almost all the tracks could be safely played on a radio. The first eight songs are more or less pop-ish ballads about homies in prison, tough life and the ghetto. By the time we reach the last three tracks where Boog recovers his old persona, it’s already too late. The struggle remains but the voice is gone.

Ray Garraty 

 The Flat Five — Another World (Pravda)

The Flat Five musters a great deal of Chicago musical fire power. Alt.country chanteuse Kelly Hogan, Andrew Bird collaborator Nora O’Connor and Casey McDonough sing in Andrews Sisters harmonies, while NRBQ mainstay Scott Ligon minds the store and Green Mill regular Alex Hall keeps the rhythm steady. The sound is retro —1930s radio retro — but the songs, written by Ligon’s older brother Chris, upend mid-century American pieties with sharp, insurgent wit. A variety of old-time-y styles are referenced — big band jazz, country, doo wop and pre-modern pop — in clean, winking style. Countrified, “The Great State of Texas” seems, at first, to be a fairly sentimental goodbye-to-all-that song, until it ends with the revelation that the narrator is on death row. “Girl of Virginia,” unspools a series of intricate, Cole Porter-ish rhymes, while waltzing carelessly across the floor. The writing is sharp, the playing uniformly excellent and the vocals extra special, layered in buzzing harmonies and counterpoints. No matter how complicated the vocal arrangements, no one is ever flat in Flat Five.

Jennifer Kelly

 Sam Gendel — DRM (Nonesuch)

Normally, Sam Gendel plays saxophone in a classic jazz style. You might have caught him blowing dreamy, airy accompaniments on Sam Amidon’s last record, for instance, or putting his own spin on jazz standards in the solo Satin Doll. But for this album, Gendel experimented with ancient high tech — an Electro Harmonix DRM32 drum machine, some synthesizers, a 60-year-old nylon-string guitar —t o create hallucinatory fragments of beat-box-y, jazz-y sound, pitched somewhere between arty hip hop and KOMPAKT-style experimental electronics. “Dollars,” for instance, laces melancholy, Latin-flavored guitar and crooning with vintage video-game blips and bleeps, like a bossa nova heard dimly in a gaming arcade. “SOTD” dances uneasily in a syncopated way, staccato guitar runs paced by hand-claps, stuttered a-verbal mouth sounds and bright melodic bursts of synthesizer. “Times Like This” poses the difficult question of exactly what time we’re in—it has the moody smoulder of old soul, the antic ping and pop of lush early 00s electronics, the disembodied alien suavity of pitch-shifted R&B right now. The ringer in the collection is a cover of L’il Nas’ “Old Town Road,” interpreted in soft Teutonic electro tones, like Cluster at the rodeo. It’s odd and lovely and hard to get a bead on, which is pretty much the verdict for DRM as a whole.

Jennifer Kelly

 Kraig Grady — Monument of Diamonds (Another Timbre)

MONUMENT OF DIAMONDS by Kraig Grady

The painting adorning the sleeve of Monument of Diamonds is entitled Doppler Effect in Blue, and rarely has the cover art’s name so accurately described the sound of the music paired with it. The album-length composition, which is scored for brass, saxophones and organs, consists almost entirely of long tones that Doppler in slow motion, with one starting up just before another peters out. The composer, Kraig Grady, is an Australian-based American who used to release albums that purported to be the folk music of a mythical land called Anaphoria. Nowadays he has no need for such subterfuge, since this lovely album holds up quite well on its own merits. Inspired by Harry Partch and non-Western classical music systems, Grady uses invented instruments and strategically selected pitch intervals to create microtonal music that sounds subtly alien, but never harsh on the ears. As the sounds glide by, they instigate a state of relaxed alertness that’ll do your blood pressure some good without exposing you to unnecessary sweetener.

Bill Meyer  

 MJ Guider — Sour Cherry Bell (Kranky)

Sour Cherry Bell by MJ Guider

MJ Guider’s second full length is diaphanous and monolithic, its monster beats sheathed in transparent washes of hiss and roar. “The Steelyard” shakes the floor with its pummelling industrial rhythms, yet shrouds Guider’s spoken word chants with surprising delicacy. “Body Optics” growls and simmers in woozy synth-driven discontent, while the singer lofts dreamy melodic phrases over the roar. There’s heft in the low-end of these roiling songs, in the churn of bass-like synthetics, the stomp of computer driven percussion, yet a disembodied lightness in the vocals, which float in pristine purity over the roar. Late in the disc, Guider ventures a surprisingly unconfrontational bit of dream pop in “Perfect Interference,” sounding poised and controlled and rather lovely at the center of chiming, enveloping synthetic riffs. Yet the murk and roar makes her work even more captivating, a glimpse of the spiritual in the midst of very physical wreck and tumult.

Jennifer Kelly

 Hisato Higuchi — キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? (Ghost Disc) 

キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? by Hisato Higuchi

Since 2003, Tokyo-based guitarist Hisato Higuchi has quietly released a series of equally-quiet albums, many on his own Ghost Disc label, which is appropriately named. Higuchi's work on this and the previous two albums of his "Disappearing Trilogy" is a sort of shimmering, melancholy guitar-and-vocal atmosphere — downer psych-folk in a drifting haze. His lyrics are more imagery than story, touching on overflowing light, winter cities, the quiet world, and the transience of memories. As the guitar floats slowly into the distance, Higuchi's voice, imbued with reverb, is calmly narcotic, like someone quietly sympathizing with a friend's troubles. These songs, while melancholy, convey a peacefulness that's a welcome counterbalance to the chaotic year in which we've been living. Like a cool wind on a warm summer evening, you can close your eyes and let Higuchi's music improve your mood.  

Mason Jones

 Internazionale — Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade) (Janushoved)

Wide Sea Prancer (At The Blue Parade) by Internazionale

It’s been nearly half a decade since Copenhagen’s Janushoved first appeared in these annals, and in that time, a little more information — and a lot more material — has cropped up to lend some context to the mystery. The focus, however, steadfastly remains with the music — perhaps my favorite of which among the regular projects featured is label head Mikkel Valentin’s own swirling solo synth vehicle Internazionale. In addition to a reissue of 2017’s The Pale and the Colourful (originally out on Posh Isolation), November saw the release of all-new songs with Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade), 14 tracks of gently abrasive headphone ambient that carry out this type of sound very well. Occasionally there is a piano (“Callista”) or what sounds like vocals (“El Topo”), but as it’s been from the start, this is primarily about tones and moods. Notes for the release say it’s a “continuation and completion of the narrative set by the release Sillage of the Blue Summer,” but it’s less the narrative you should be worried about missing out on than the warmth of your insides after an uninterrupted listen.

Patrick Masterson    

 Iress — Flaw (Iress)

Flaw by Iress

Sweeping, epic post-metal from this LA four piece makes a place for melodic beauty amid the heaviness. Like Pelican and Red Sparrows, Iress blares a wall of overwhelming guitar sound. Together Michelle Malley and Alex Moreno roust up waves and walls of pummeling tone as in opener “Shame.” But Iress is also pretty good at pulling back and revealing the acoustic basis for these songs. “Hand Tremor” is downright tranquil, with wreathes of languid guitar strumming and Malley’s strong, gutsy soprano navigating the full dynamic range from whisper to scream. “Wolves” lumbers like a violent beast, even in its muscular surge, there’s a slow, anthemic chorus. Likewise, “Underneath” pounds and hammers (that’s Glenn Chu on drums), but leaves space for introspection and doubt. It’s rare that the vocals on music this heavy are so good or so female, but if you’ve liked Chelsea Wolfe’s recent forays into ritual metal, you should check out Iress as well.

Jennifer Kelly

Junta Cadre — Vietnam Forever (No Rent Records)

"Vietnam Forever" (NRR141) by Junta Cadre

Junta Cadre is one of several noise and power electronics projects created by Jackson Abdul-Salaam, musician and curator of the long-running Svn Okklt blog. As the project’s name implies, Junta Cadre has an agenda: the production of sound that seeks to thematize the ambiguities of 20th-century radical, revolutionary politics. The project’s initial releases investigated the Maoist revolution in China, and the subsequent Cultural Revolution of the late 1960s and 1970s. Vietnam Forever shifts topics, to the American War in Vietnam, and tactics, including contributions from other prominent harsh noise acts and artists: the Rita, Samuel Torres of Terror Cell Unit, Leo Brucho of Controlled Opposition and others. Given those names, Vietnam Forever is as challenging and rigorous as you might expect. Waves of dissonant, electronic hum and fuzz accumulate and oscillate, crunching and chopping into textured aural assaults; wince-inducing warbles and needling feedback occasionally assert themselves. Abdul-Salaam’s harsh shout cuts in and out of the mix. The tape (also available as a name-yo’-price DL on Bandcamp) presents as two side-long slabs of sound, both over seventeen minutes long, both completely exhausting. At one point, on Side A, Abdul-Salaam repeatedly shouts, “Beautiful Vietnam forever!” It’s hard to say what he means. An affirmation that Vietnam survived the war? That its people and culture endure? Or that the U.S. can’t seem to shake the war’s haunting presence? Or even a more worryingly nihilistic delight in the war’s carnage, so frequently aestheticized in films like Apocalypse Now (1979), Full Metal Jacket (1987) and Da Five Bloods (2020)? The noise provides no closure. Maybe necessarily so.  

Jonathan Shaw  

 Bastien Keb — The Killing of Eugene Peeps (Gearbox)

The Killing of Eugene Peeps is a soundtrack to a movie that never was, a noir-ish flick which winds restlessly through urban landscapes and musical styles, from the orchestra tremors of its opening through the folky group-sing of “Lucky the Oldest Grave.” “Rabbit Hole” wafts by like an Elephant Six outtake, its woozy chorus lit by glockenspiel notes, while “God Bless Your Gutters” conjures jazzy desolation in piano and mordant spoken word. “All the Love in Your Heart” shimmers like a movie flashback, a mirage of blowsy back-up singing, guitar and muttered memories. “Street Clams” bristles with funk and swagger, an Ethio-jazz sortee through rain slicked streets. What’s it about? Musically or narratively? No idea. But it’s worth visiting these evocative soundscapes just for the atmosphere. It’s a film I’d like to see.

Jennifer Kelly

 Jesse Kivel — Infinite Jess (New Feelings)

Nostalgia haunts the new solo album from Kisses guitarist/singer Jesse Kivel. Infinite Jess is full of that knowing melancholy of The Blue Nile, Prefab Sprout and The Pale Fountains that was so magnetic to a certain brand of sensitive young thing seeking to articulate their inchoate visions of a future steeped in romance and adventure. Think wistful mid-tempo songs wrapped in cocoons of strummed guitars, shuffling percussion and wurlitzer piano fashioned into a catalogue of adolescent radio memories. These tunes are topped by the understated sincerity of Kivel’s voice and lyrics which effectively evoke the place, time and emotion of his vignettes. The production suffers occasionally from a distracting reliance on too perfectly rendered tropes — overly polite drum programming, thumbed bass, blandly smooth electric piano — but the overall effect is oddly beguiling. Infinite Jess closes with a charmingly wobbly instrumental cover of Don McLean’s “Vincent” played on the wurlitzer that captures the poignancy of the melody and serves as a fitting epilog to the record.

Andrew Forell

 Kyrios — Saturnal Chambers (Caligari Records)

Saturnal Chambers by KYRIOS

The corpsepaint-and-spiked-codpiece crowd are still making tons of records, but fewer and fewer of them are interesting or compelling. The retrograde theatrics and cheap pessimism can be irritating enough (I’d rather be reading Schopenhauer, thanks); it’s even more problematic when the songs can muster only the vividness and savor of stiff leftovers from the deep-freezer’s darkest and dankest corners. Still, every now and then a kvlty band that follows the frigid dictates of black metal’s orthodoxy creates a set of songs worth listening to. This new EP from Kyrios is super short, comprising three tracks in just under 10 minutes that pull off that neat trick: when it’s over, you want to hear more. Sure, the dudes in the band call themselves silly things like Satan’s Sword and Vornag, but the tunes are really good. Check out the churning strangeness of “The Utterance of Foul Truths.” Kyrios claims Immortal, Enslaved and Dissection as primary influences, and the band recognizes the stylistic debt they owe to Deathspell Omega (let’s hope Kyrios digs the twisted guitars and weird-ass time signatures, but passes on the National Socialism declaimed by that French band’s vocalist). Stuff gets even more engaging when bleeping and blooping keyboards vibrate at the edges of the mix, giving the songs a spaced-out vibe. “Saturnal Chambers”? Maybe Kyrios has met the astral spirit of Sun Ra somewhere along their galactic journeys into the heavenly void. He liked bleeping, blooping noises and gaudy costumes, too.

Jonathan Shaw

 Matt Lajoie — Light Emerging (Trouble In Mind)

Light Emerging by Matt Lajoie

The second volume of Trouble In Mind Records’ Explorers series is, like its predecessor a cassette that comes concealed within a brown slipcase. Like many other discretely wrapped products, the fun is on the inside. This time, it’s a tape by guitarist who understands that toes aren’t just for tapping. At any rate, I think he’s managing his pedals with his feet. Most likely Lajoie has spent some quality time listening to mid-1990s Roy Montgomery. But since a quarter century has passed, he doesn’t just stack up the echoes. Sped-up tones streak across the surface of this music like swallows zooming close to that sheet you hung on the side of your barn the last time you had everyone over for a socially distanced gathering to watch Aguirre, The Wrath of God. Wait, did that really happen? Maybe not, but if someone were to make a fake documentary about the hanging of the projective surface, this music is suitably epic to provide the soundtrack.

Bill Meyer

 Lisa/Liza — Shelter of a Song (Orindal)

Shelter of a Song by Lisa/Liza

Lisa/Liza makes a quietly harrowing sort of guitar folk, singing in a high, ghostly clear soprano against delicate traceries of picking. The artist, real name Liza Victoria, inhabits songs that are unadorned but still chilling. She sings with childlike sincerity in an ominous landscape of dark alleys and chilly autumnal vistas. She wrote this album while chronically ill, according to the notes, and you can hear the struggle against the body in the way her voice sometimes wavers, her breath comes in sudden intakes. But, as sometimes happens after long sickness, she sometimes strikes clear of the physical, achieving an unearthly purity as in “From this Shelter.” A touch of plain spoken magic lurks in this one, in the whispery vocals, the translucent curtains of guitar notes, though not much warmth. “Red Leaves” is earthier and more fluid, guitar flickers striking out from a resonant center, and the artist murmuring dreamily about the beauty of the world and its transience.

Jennifer Kelly

Keith Morris & The Crooked Numbers — American Reckoning (Mista Boo)

It's easy to imagine Keith Morris as perpetually frustrated. His last album, after all, took on psychopaths and sycophants, and the title of his new release American Reckoning doesn't suggest happy thoughts. There's plenty of bile on these five tracks, of course, but Morris approaches the album like a scholar. The opening verse describes the US as “Machiavellian: the mean just never ends” before referencing Othello and Yo-Yo Ma (the latter for a “yo mama” joke). If Morris and the Crooked Numbers just raged, they might be justified, but they'd be less interesting. Instead, they use a wide swath of American musical styles to thoughtfully consider racial (and racist) issues in our contemporary society. “Half Crow Jim” turns a Southern piano tune into a surprising tale about the fallout from slavery. It's a sharp moment, and it highlights that the only disappointing part of this release lies in its brevity. Morris has said he has more music on the way, and if he continues to mix styles, wordplay, and cultural analysis, it'll be worth a study.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Tatsuya Nakatani and Rob McGill — Valley Movements (Weird Cry)

Valley Movements by Tatsuya Nakatani / Rob Magill

In most percussion ensembles, the gong-ist is a utility player, charged with banging out a note once or twice per composition for drama and ideally not screwing it up. Tatsuya Nakatani works on a wholly different level, transcending the possibilities of this ancient, archetypical instrument with vision and an unholy technique. More specifically, his set-up includes at least two standing gongs, each about as tall as he is himself. He plays them with mallets, standing between, in blur speed rolls that range all over the surface of the instrument. The sound he evokes is distinctly unpercussive, more resembling string instrument glissandos than any form of drums, a full-on high-register wail of sound that he sculpts and roils and coaxes into compositions of incredible force and complexity. He also plays a bunch of other percussion instruments, little drums and cymbals which he layers on top of each other so that when he strikes one, the others resonate. It is quite an experience to see him at it, and if you ever get a chance, you should go. Here, he works with the saxophonist Rob McGill unfurling a single 40-minute improvisation at a studio in the appealingly named Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. McGill is an agile player, laying alternately lyrical and agitated counterpoints onto Nakatani’s rhythms, carrying the tune and threading a logical through line through this extended set. He finds frequencies that complement Nakatani’s antic, nearly demonic drum sounds and knows when to let loose and when to let his partner through the mix. The result is a very high energy, engaging adventure in sound that evokes a rare response: you wish you could hear the drums better.

Jennifer Kelly

 Overmono — The Cover Mix (Mixmag)

Mixmag · The Cover Mix: Overmono

It’s a really weird time to be advocating for club music of any kind, but Overmono’s Everything U Need EP out recently on XL again showcases what the fraternal duo known better as Tessela and Truss do best: melding thoughtful percussion patterns with these airy, gliding synth melodies that work at home just as well as in the club (theoretically, anyway). It’s not just original material they do well, though; whether it was the Dekmantel podcast a few years back or their live cassette from Japan or this mix for Mixmag, Ed and Tom Russell also have a knack for pacing in their sets. This one features stuff from the new EP as well as three unreleased tracks (not counting the Rosalía remix, which remains one of the year’s most addicting) and names both old and new — listen for DJ Crystl’s 1993 jungle jam “Deep Space” sidled up next to Smerz’s new skyscraper “I Don’t Talk About That Much.” If that sounds like everything you need, lock in and let Overmono do the hard work. Truly, they do not miss.

Patrick Masterson

 Pole — Fading (Mute)

As Pole, Stefan Betke’s work has always been both comforting and disconcerting. The amiotic swells and heartbeat bass frequencies generate a warm human feel in his music despite their origins in serendipitously damaged equipment. Fading, his first album in five years explores Betke’s reactions to his mother’s dementia and reflects on the nature of personality, memory and soul. Building on his trademark glitchy beats and oceanic bass tones, the eight tracks echo a consciousness unmoored by the fog of unfamiliarity that smothers and distorts but never completely submerges awareness. “Tölpel” (slang for klutz) evokes impatient fingers tapping out the guilty resentment of the forgotten and the frustration of the forgetful. The title track closes with a woozy waltz punctuated by recurrent sparks. Fading is a deeply felt work; somber, reflective, stumbling towards understanding and acceptance, alive to the nuances and petty nettles of grief and above all beautiful in its ambivalence.

Andrew Forell

Quakers — II: The Next Wave (Stones Throw)

II - The Next Wave by Quakers

After eight years of silence following 2012’s self-titled debut, Stones Throw production trio Quakers (Portishead’s Geoff Barrow as Fuzzface, 7-Stu-7 and Katalyst) dropped the 50-track beat tape Supa K: Heavy Tremors out of nowhere in September and now, just two months later, are back with another 33-track behemoth that allows a litany of emcees to shine. Calling this The Next Wave is a bit of a stretch when you consider many of the voices on here are from guys who’ve been in the game for years or even decades (Jeru the Damaja, Detroit’s Phat Kat and Guilty Simpson, Chicagoan Jeremiah Jae, etc.), but even so, the dusty grooves and Dilla loops prove perfect foils for many of those who hit the mic. My favorite might be Sageinfinite slotting in with the organ grinder “A Myth,” but even if you don’t like it, everyone’s in and out quick. If you’re burned out on Griselda, give this a go for 1990s vibes of a different kind.

Patrick Masterson   

 Rival Consoles — Articulation (Erased Tapes)

There are deep pockets of silence in “Articulation,” ink black stops between the thump and clack of dance beat, sudden intervals of nothingness amidst limber synthetic melodies. London-based producer Ryan West, who records as Rival Consoles, layers sound on sound in some tracks, letting the foundations slip like tectonic plates on top of one another, but he is also very much aware of the power of quiet, whether dark or luminously light. Consider, for instance, his closer, “Sudden Awareness of Now,” whose buoyant melody skitters across factory-sized fan blasts of whooshing sound. The rhythm is light footed and agile, pieced together from staccato elements that hold the air and light. Like Jon Hopkins, West uses the glitch and twitch to insinuate the infinite, chiming overtones and hovering backdrops to represent a gnostic, communal state of existence. “Vibrations on a String” may jump to the steady thump, thump, thump of dance, but as its gleaming plasticine tones blow out into horn blast dissonance, the cut is more about becoming than being.

Jennifer Kelly

  Sweeping Promises — Hunger for a Way Out (Feel It)

Hunger for a Way Out by Sweeping Promises

The title track bounds headlong on a rubbery bassline, picking up a Messthetick-y blare of junk shop keyboards. All the sudden, there’s Lira Mondal unleashing a giddy screed of angular pop punk tunefulness, her partner in Sweeping Promises, Caulfield, stabbing and stuttering on guitar. In some ways, this band is straight out of late 1980s London, jitter-flirting with offkilter hooks a la Delta Five or Girls at Our Best. In others, they are utterly modern, lacing austere pogo beats with lush, elaborate vocal counterpoints. “Falling Forward” is a continuous rush of clamped in guitar scramble and agile, bouncing bass, anthemic trills breaking for robotic chants; it’s a mesh of sounds that always seems ready to collapse in a heap, but instead finds its antic balance just in time.

Jennifer Kelly

Martin Taxt — First Room (SOFA)

First Room by Martin Taxt

Sometimes a room is more than a room. In the matter at hand, it is a space that proposes a state of mind and a consequent set of experiences. It is also the score for a piece of music that extrapolate that state into the realm of sound. The cover of First Room depicts a pattern of tatami mats that you might find in a Japanese tea room. Martin Taxt is a microtonal tubaist and also the holder of an advanced degree in music and architecture (next time someone tells you that some good thing can’t happen, remember that in Norway you can not only get such a degree; you can then go ahead and present a CD that shows your work. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in our society.). This music takes inspiration from the integrated aesthetic of the tea ceremony, using carefully placed and deliberately sustained sounds to create an environment in which subtle changes count for a lot. The album’s contents were created by mixing together two performances, one with and another without an audience. Taxt and accompanist Vilde Marghrete Aas layer long tones from a tuba, double bass, viola da gamba and sine waves. Their precise juxtapositions create a sense of focus, somewhat like a concentrated version of Ellen Fullman’s long string music, and if that statement means something to you, so will this music.

Bill Meyer

 Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina II (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part II) by Ulaan Janthina

Part two of Steven R. Smith’s latest recording project echoes the first volume in several key aspects. It is a tape made in small numbers and packaged like a present from your favorite cottage industry; in this case, the custom-printed box comes with an old playing card, a hand-printed image of jellyfish, an old skeleton key and a nut. And Smith, who most often plays guitars and home-made stringed instruments, once more plays keyboards, which enable him to etch finer lines of melody. The chief difference between this tape and its predecessor is the melodies themselves, which have begun to attain the evocative simplicity of mid-1970s Cluster.

Bill Meyer

 Various Artists — Joyous Sounds! (Chicago Research)

Joyous Sounds! by Various Artists

It’s been less than two years, but Blake Karlson’s Chicago Research imprint has already made its presence known both in the Windy City and beyond as fine purveyors of all things industrial, EBM, post-punk and experimental electronics. There were two compilations released within days of one another toward the beginning of October, and while Preliminaries of Silence veers more toward soothing ambient textures, Joyous Sounds! is more upbeat and rhythmic (Bravias Lattice’s “Liquid Vistas” is a beautiful exception). My favorite track is Club Music’s “Musclebound” (not a Spandau Ballet cover, as it turns out), but the underlying menace of Civic Center’s “Filigree” and Rottweiler’s pummeling “Ancient Baths” sit alongside merely unsettling fare like Lily the Fields’ “Porcelain” well. If you’re not already aboard or just have a Wax Trax-sized hole in your heart, you have a lot of work ahead of you with this label’s consistently superlative output.

Patrick Masterson

  Kurt Vile — Speed, Sound, Lonely KV (Matador)

Given John Prine's passing from COVID-19 this year, the new Kurt Vile EP might be received as a tribute to the late artist, with extra significance coming from Prine's appearance here. Four years in the works, Speed, Sound, Lonely KV offers more than just tribute, though. Prine's guest spot (if you could call it that) on his own “How Lucky” certainly makes for a moving highlight, the two singers fitting together nicely as Prine's gruff tone balance's his partner's smoother voice. Vile also covers Prine on “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness,” and he adds “Gone Girl” by Cowboy Jack Clement as he takes further cosmic steps.  

His two originals here complete the record, and, mixed in with the covers, draw out the lesson. Vile's entire EP blends the country influences with his more typical dreamy sound, the guitar work bridging the gap between a songwriter's backing and something more ethereal. Nashville, it seems, has always suited Vile just fine, and hearing him embrace that tradition more immediately adds an extra layer to his work. Putting a cowboy hat on his previous aesthetic puts him opens up new but related paths for him, and the five tracks here could play on either a Kris Kristofferson mix or a laid-back indie-rocker playlist. Either way, they'd be highlights on an endless loop.

Justin Cober-Lake

 WhoMadeWho — Synchronicity (Kompakt)

Danish trio WhoMadeWho — drummer Tomas Barfod, guitarist Jeppe Kjellberg and bassist/singer Tomas Høffding — make enjoyable indie dance music that suffers somewhat from lack of personality and a tendency toward a middle ground. That may be due to an effort to accommodate a roster of Kompakt-related collaborators including Michael Mayer, Echonomist and Robag Wruhme. While there’s nothing bad and some pretty good here, the individual songs flit by, pausing briefly to set one’s head nodding and feet tapping, before evaporating from the mind. “Shadow of Doubt” featuring Hamburg’s Adana Twins has the kind of driving bass that anchored New Order hits but also, unfortunately, the unconvincing vocals only Bernard Sumner could get away with. More successful moments like the eerie piano riff and jazz inflections of “Dream Hoarding” with Frank Wiedemann, the arpeggiated house of “Der Abend birgt keine Ruh” featuring Perel and miserablist Pet Shop Boys inflected closer “If You Leave” do stick. Synchronicity might work well on the dance floor, but it doesn’t quite sustain at home.

Andrew Forell

#dusted magazine #Cristián Alvear #burkhard stangl #bill meyer #Badge Époque Ensemble #andrew forell #better person #tim clarke #big eyes family #bounaly #cash click boog #ray garraty #the flat five #jennifer kelly #sam gendel #kraig grady #mj guider #hisato higuchi #mason jones #patrick masterson #internazionale #iress #junta cadre #jonathan shaw #bastien keb #jess kivel #kyrios #matt lajoie #lisa/liza #dust

[heightenedemotions]

&Penelope Allen

Name: Penelope Allen

Age: 61

Species: Vampire

Occupation: Swimming instructor, lifeguard

Orientation: Homosexual

Faceclaim: Billie Lourd

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death, murder

Penelope was born in Newport, Vermont, to a human father and a mermaid mother. While she mostly grew up on land, her mother would take her down in Lake Memphremagog, where most of the mermaids resided still. So Penny got to grow up with both of those sides, and she loved it.

While her and her mother were the only supernaturals in the Allen family, she grew up close to her cousins, and adored all of them. They knew about both of them, and always kept the secret.

Penny went to a human school, and while some of the mermaids went to the same school, all of her friends were humans. Not that any of them knew about her. She was a fairly popular girl, and the other mermaids always seemed to disapprove of it, telling her someday, someone would learn about her. She never listened to them.

When she was younger, Penny would always beg her parents to send her to a summer camp. However, while they let her go to human school, they thought a summer camp might be a little too risky. So she never got to go. But when she was 14, her mother heard through one of her mermaid friends that a new, special summer camp was opening, only for the supernaturals. It was her first time in a summer camp, and she adored it. It also brought her her first contact with other species, which was fun.

At 16, Penny started dating a boy, football quarterback, quite possibly, the most popular guy in school. She wasn’t actually interested in him, but her friends kept telling her how lucky she was that he was into her, so she went along. Not that it lasted long, as the first time she slept with him, she realized she definitely was not into it. Made her confused for a little bit but after some experiments, she quickly realized she wasn’t into it because she was gay.

She kept going to summer camp every single summer, and once she was old enough, she became a camp counselor, helping with anything related to the water and boats. She also took her certification to become one of the lifeguards there.

Overall, life was good for Penny. She loved her family and all of her cousins, had good friends, and got to enjoy nice summers at camp. She couldn’t complain.

After graduation, Penny took a gap year, during which she went on a roadtrip across the country with some of her friends; it was the one summer she wasn’t at camp.

When she returned, she decided to go to community college, undeclared major. There really wasn’t much she wanted to do about summer camp, really. But that wasn’t good enough for her parents. 

When she was done with college, they told her to find her own place to stay and a job, if she wasn’t going to study to get a “decent career”. She found a job in a music store, and got a shitty apartment with a friend. Still, she was happy.

However, her world was turned upside down at the end of the summer of 85. It had gone completely unaware to the camp administration, but a band of hunters had gotten heard of the camp. They were not cruel enough to murder children, so instead, they tracked down the counselors and administration members. 

Of course, when the hunters came to Newport and found quite the mermaid population, they didn’t end their job at Penelope and her parents, but tried to wipe out the entire population in the town. Some were able to make it out, but most weren’t so lucky, including both of her parents. After that, the rest of her family made a pack to never once bring up their mermaid relatives, fearing the hunters would come back for them as well.

Penny... had a different fate than the others. She wasn’t dead yet when Harlow found her. She was turned by the other, something she’d never considered... but was’t entirely against it either. She was still far too young to die.

She was grateful for the second chance, but adapting to this new situation was hard. There were many more things about being a vampire than she imagined, so she tried to stay with Harlow as she got used to it. But she always had the fear hunters would hear about her and come back to finish the job. Not to mention, she feared losing control and murdering people.

Instead, Penny ended up running away one day. She knew of an old cabin in the woods, abandoned and entirely secluded from the world, so she headed there. It was shelter, and had mostly everything she needed. She originally planed to only stay for a couple of years, then come out, change identity, and try to regain a normal life. Her plans... changed with time. 

She actually enjoyed being alone, no danger, no potential risk of hurting anyone. She spent most of her days reading the books that had been left in cabin, and jamming to the vinyls in the place. For 30 years, she lived as if she was alone in the whole world, and it was fine by her.

Her one human contact through all those years was Barry, the hillbilly that owned that creepy gas station in the middle of fuck no where. Despite being human, Barry knew about supernaturals, he’d once had a werewolf rip apart the only customers he’d had in a week, and had seen a couple of others through the years, so he wasn’t terrified of Penny when he meant her. She didn’t look frightening anyway. They had a mutually beneficial relationship: she’d bring him meat(mostly rabbits she’d catch, sometimes a deer), and in exchange, he gave her clothes, some vinyls, and other appliances she’d need. He even once came to the cabin to fix something that had broken. As unlikely as it was, they were friends.

And then one day, she came to the station, and he was’t there. She came back many times in a row, until she realized he was probably gone. So she grabbed as many things as she could need, and went back to her cabin for a couple more years.

It was only in 2015 that someone found her. Another supernatural, who was shook she’d managed to live all on her own for so long. But Penny was okay with it. Still, the other was right, maybe it was time she made it back to actual civilization. She didn’t want to go back to Newport, which was fair, too many bad memories. Instead, she was taken to Bellport.

Adjusting to the modern world, and technologies, was a lot. Quite frankly, she’s still not used to it. She has a phone, and a computer, and all those things, but she often ends up asking people for help. She’s also plainly refused to try modern clothes. Of course, her style isn’t purely 80s anymore, but she always goes for vintage or clothes that look like they could’ve been in her era.

Kids at camp used to call her Loppy, something her cousins picked up on. She liked it, but it does remind her of old times, so currently, no one is allowed to call her that.

Apart from that one football player, Penny’s never had an actual relationship. She’s had plenty of experiences and flings, but nothing serious.

#m;penelopeallen #death tw #murder tw

[of-princesses-and-antlers]

@superhero-forhire 's Sleep Deprived, Boredom Induced, The 100 Hiatus 2019/2020 Fic Rec Masterpost(wow that's a long title)

Ok guys, so for no other reason than it's currently 2:30am and I'm bored and apparently not sleeping, I have decided to put together a list of some of the best fics (in my opinion) this fandom has to offer! And as we are currently at the beginning of what is going to be a very long and excruciating (and our last) hiatus, I figure there's no better way to get through it than with some quality reading material.

(This list will be mostly Bellarke and Clarke Griffin Centric)

So without further ado, here is a (somewhat) complete list of my all time Favorite t100 Fanfics, as they are listed/sorted in my bookmarks

First up

Special Collection:

Reach Out (Touch Me) by ParadiseAvenger

When a hot spring was discovered near the camp, Clarke was excited to use it to soothe her aching muscles and escape from the pressure of holding so many lives in her hands. As it turned out, she wasn't the only one.

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle

"There was a strange, muffled snap, and the tentacle around her middle was retracted. The hold on her ankle was gone, and Bellamy was pulling her up through the water. She began to pump her arms, and they broke the surface; she gasped, and coughed.

He pressed a gun into her hand. “If you see a ripple, shoot,” he ordered."

AU. The dropship doesn't land on land. The next seven years are a little bit different.

Sing the Rage of Peleus' Son Achilles by viansian

"I have spent my entire life afraid of men thought to be gods," he finally says. "I'll tell you a secret, princess: these men? The ones who claim to be deities? Their blood isn't ichor. They bleed red like the rest of us, and sometimes they need to be reminded of that."

When the Strong Break by AJRedfern

In which Bellamy Blake teaches Marcus Kane something about desperation, loyalty and unrealised feelings.

(Or the one where Marcus Kane slowly comes to realise what we've all known since season 1)

*Ep. 302 from Kane's POV.*

And Now You're Home by asroark

She didn’t try to muffle the sounds of her crying this time. It wasn’t like anyone was around to hear it, anyway. At least if she was loud, Clarke could drown out the silence for a few moments. She cried for her friends, the ones she had already lost and the ones that might have made it up to space. She cried for her mom and for Kane. She cried for the bodies she found in the valley when she first arrived. And she cried for herself.

She didn’t hear the shuffling behind her this time. She was crying too loud to hear it. But she heard the quiet, “Are you hurt?” rumbling behind her in a deep voice, and it scared her so bad that she almost fell off the ledge and back into the water. But he stopped her from falling. His hand gripped around her wrist, pulling her back onto the ledge as she caught her breath.

Grounder!Bellamy AU where Clarke finds out she isn't the last person left on Earth.

Come Get A Hold Of Me by theinvisibledisaster

Clarke is overwhelmed by the intensity of being around a civilization after six years of solitude with Madi.

She is also very touch-starved.

Bellamy notices.

By Tomorrow We'll Be Lost by WiinterIsNotComing

“I would tell you everything,” he murmured against her skin, “if you asked.”

She swallowed and stared at the ceiling. “Even if it got you killed?”

He pulled away to look at her. “Oh Clarke.” He breathed out. “Being near you is enough to get me killed.”

An Evening I Will Not Forget by theoneinquisitor

It's his last night before deployment, and all Bellamy wants to do is make it memorable. Meeting Clarke? It's definitely something he won't forget.

Canon-Verse/Divergence:

His Arms, Her Crown by beadedslipper

A year has passed since the remainder of the original hundred escaped Mt. Weather and reunited with their comrades. Things are going well for them and they are about to celebrate their first anniversary on earth. But on the ground things never stay simple or safe for long. When Clarke is separated from the group during a routine mission how will she ever find her way back home? And how will Bellamy lead the people who need him now more than ever when all he can think about is getting his princess back?

keep me safe inside (your arms like towers) by glowinghorizons

"Bellamy looks at her, really looks at her, and reminds himself that she’s only just turned eighteen. She’s still a kid, and suddenly he’s aware of how much stronger than him she is. Only eighteen, yet she’s taken it upon herself to make sure these kids survive life on the ground.

“I trust you,” he tells her, and he’s only a little surprised to realize that it’s the complete truth."

OR

season one AU. the 100 are sent to the ground and learn how to survive. bellamy and clarke fight to keep a peace treaty alive when the ark comes down, and find each other along the way.

You're Just Another Recovering Heart by prosciutto

Clarke’s still looking at him when he finally brings himself to turn away, her gaze impossibly soft, but it’s the way she says his name that breaks him, in the end. “Bell.”

He closes his eyes, the motion reflexive. “Letters,” he says finally, sounding absolutely wrecked, despite himself. “They’re letters I wrote to you, while you were gone.”

Bellamy gets into the habit of writing letters to the girl he left behind in the six years they’re apart. But as it turns out, Clarke’s alive, and she’s read them. (Or: the fallout of a love confession six years in the making.)

In My Dreams We Are Always Together by andsowemeetagain

100 delinquents got sent to Earth and battled for survival against the odds. They landed in Trikru territory but that is not where they stayed. After weeks of battle and war, the Sky People finally lost. They were sent to a land far away, where a group of Grounders unlike any they've met waited for them.

as moonlight through the pines by twilightstargazer

The tattoos are Bellamy’s idea.

Clarke has left her kit of ink and needles on their makeshift dining table, next to her paintings that she was letting dry. Harper came in earlier asking for a touch-up and she forgot to put them away.

Now, Bellamy’s eyes land on it and he tugs her towards it saying, “I want another tattoo.”

In the end she draws a minimalistic version of a sunset-- or sunrise, depending on how you look at it-- over the ocean, just a few straight lines for the sea and a semicircle for the sun. It’s very simple, with thick dark lines that stand out nicely from the skin.

“It could probably pass as a clan tattoo,” she says, studying it while she cleans it up. “Maybe we should give it to all our people.”

“I could give it to you,” he says, already reaching for the ink, and Clarke is sufficiently drunk enough that nothing about that sentence sets off any alarm bells in her head. “You’re my people. You need one too.”

She grins and reveals her forearm to him too, already taking a swig from the bottle in preparation. “Okay.”

-

or, 3 times the grounders thought they were married and one time they actually were

Parents in parenthesis by Ideasofmarch

In which Bellamy and Clarke skip the animosity faze and start straight at co-leaders - and parents, somehow - and things turn out a lot better for almost everyone involved.

or.

The ark's coming down and the council wants to combine camps. The price? Bellamy's head on a stake.

And that's one price Clarke just isn't willing to pay.

The Cure For Anything by enoughtotemptme

Anya said not to approach the Sky People, so he doesn’t. He just watches from a distance as the young, strange people pour out of the mouth of their ship. Many are his sister’s age, but none appear to have a fraction of the discipline Octavia does.

His sister is a warrior, and has been for years.

These people…

These people are children.

Stupid ones, Bellamy notes, as some fall to their knees and kiss the ground perilously close to a pile of deer droppings.

And then, he sees her.

Modern Setting:

regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all by Chash

After an argument with her mother about her unplanned pregnancy, Clarke Griffin ends up back in the small town where her father used to live, spilling her sob story to a sympathetic bartender. And then, somehow, she ends up moving in with the bartender and her brother.

I'll Be Chasing Angels All My Life by grumpybell

“Always. Night, Princess.” He hangs up and finds his mother watching him with oddly clear eyes. He swallows, uncomfortable with the look.

“Who's your princess?” Aurora asks, a smile on her lips. His princess, Bellamy pushes the thought away. Of course it would sound like that to someone who doesn't know.

“She's no one.”

“Now, I know I raised my boy not to lie to his mother,” Aurora says, mock sternly. Bellamy shifts a little, trying to think how to even begin to explain Clarke, what they are and aren't to each other.

Something Always Survives by asroark

Bellamy had been trapped in this place for over two years. He can’t even count how many cellmates he lost over that time, how many times he had to meet a new voice from a person he would never see… And, almost every time, he found himself telling them a story to help calm them down, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it would never be okay. Clarke had been no different than the others until this moment.

She was the first one to ever try to comfort him in return. So, he whispered, “Okay,” and pressed his ear to the corner.

Modern AU loosely inspired by The OA where Clarke finds herself abducted and caged with four strangers as they all struggle to make sense of their captor's experiments.

Challenge Accepted by insideimfeelindirty

He doesn't even like Clarke Griffin, he's pretty sure he hates how easy everything has come to her. So imagine his surprise when he finds himself at their office party looking through dick pics on her phone.

“You can do better, Princess. In fact, I can do better.”

As soon as she turns to him with raised eyebrows and an open mouthed grin he knows he’s said too much but she’s not going to let it drop.

“Oh really, you think you can do better, Blake?”

And he's never backed down from a challenge in his life.

did you invent the airplane? because you wright for me by FrostedGemstones22

Layovers and plane malfunctions suck. That is, unless you have a sexy stranger to keep you company all the way through your travels...

Or, Bellamy and Clarke join the Mile High Club

when it all comes together by soundtracktomysoul

The four times the delinquents tried to set them up and the one time they didn't need to

or

The one where Jasper is a die hard Bellarke shipper and makes a group chat.

The Delinquents:

What We Built by elle_stone

What, precisely, it means to be 'Dad,' he can’t actually say. He's something more than a make-believe, playhouse version of a father figure, something less than an actual parent. It's not a role he could explain to anyone, but then, no one ever asks. Outside of their insular group, no one even knows about the old tradition, and as long as the dropship survivors stick to themselves, the status quo remains unchallenged, uninterrogated.

It starts as a joke, this habit the hundred have of calling Clarke and Bellamy 'mom' and 'dad.' But by the time the Mount Weather survivors return to Camp Jaha, it's become much more than that. It's become a way to signal that they're still a family, even as they reunite with their people and integrate themselves into the growing settlement.

One of the Greatest Titles in the World is Parent by jollyrogerjayhawk

“One of the greatest titles in the world is parent, and one of the biggest blessings in the world is to have parents to call mom and dad.” Bellamy and Clarke have somehow quasi-adopted a plethora of children.

Senses by Ghelik

This isn't what Abby expected. She isn't sure what she had expected, but this loyalty to a teenage would-be murderer, this compliance is not it.

It is clear that the children of this camp are in dire need of saving. Good thing that the Ark is here now.

Baby, Let Me Straighten Out Your Broken Bones by chalantness

She's absolutely frightened and he can't fathom it. He can't reconcile the Clarke that's taken care of them since Day One on the ground – that clawed arrows and spears and bullets from their bodies and refused to let them die, that cut open her own wounds in pure protective instinct because she felt like they were in danger – with the Clarke standing before him. She's afraid, not of Grounders, or Mountain Men, or the judgment she'd face as soon as she stepped inside.

She's afraid of herself.

all the kids are talking slang i won't pretend to understand by caramelle

"You told Mo— Clarke?!"

Clarke arches a brow, crossing her arms over her middle. "'Maw-Clarke'?"

Four times the delinquents called Clarke/Bellamy ‘mom/dad’ + One time someone else did

8 times Kyle Wick heard about Clarke and 1 time he met her by a_simple_space_nerd

Wick wonders why Clarke Griffin is so special. He wonders how she could leave. He wonders how people could blame a girl for the way the world was. (This isn't slash, I'm just bad at summaries.)

None of Us is Innocent by amyhanmayari

It was early spring when Jasper went missing and a fortnight after that before he truly returned to Camp Jaha remotely resembling the boy with goggles who fell from the sky with a smile on his face. Whenever anyone asked him what happened during the two weeks when he was gone, he would crack a small, fragile smile and say “got lost, got found.” And that was that.

life in love can never last (everyone becomes the past) by a_simple_space_nerd

“Clarke,” Monty sighs, softly, all his frustration leaving him in a gust. “You’re dead. You in my dream, that’s my subconscious thinking about you while I sleep. That’s all.”

Clarke’s grin turns sharp. “Who says it’s your dream?”

(Grief is a funny thing, and everyone feels it.)

Do Better by juneytunes

Jasper wants to be Clarke's hero. Letting her get some rest in the drop ship is a good enough start. [ Jasper/Clarke FRIENDSHIP ]

Swim by Zaffie

Raven was a little girl who wanted to swim, and screw all those people who say she can't do it.

We Have All The Time In The World by Death_Shapeshifter

They were waiting, of course they were waiting. She was one of them. She was family. They would wait a thousand years for her.

The Griffin-Blake Family:

Lazy Mornings by these_dreams_go_on

Bellamy gets woken up by Madi and Clarke comes looking for her.

it's a chance we'll have to take by killianslonghaul

“You thought the person you loved was dead for six years and then found out she wasn’t. You can’t let that go. Not everyone gets a second chance like that.”

or

Bellarke reunion after Praimfaya and subsequent feelings

My Heart by QueenoftheWallflowers

Russell and the primes are gone and Bellamy and Clarke try to take a well-deserved nap. Confessions are made and forgiveness is given.

I can see clearly now by melodiousoblivian

6 years after they left Clarke behind, SpaceKru returns to find Clarke alive and thriving. Bellamy doesn't know how to cope.

No eligius, no becho.

little did you know by melodiousoblivian

"Six years later and they were on the ground. Raven saw her first, a flash of blonde hair in the trees, a startled yell, and she was running towards the dead girl. Clarke met her halfway and they collided, falling to the ground at the force of impact. Both were crying, running hands over each others faces to truly verify that they were here. Monty was next, holding Clarke so tight that she couldn't breathe. Harper simply rested her forehead against Clarke's. Murphy let out a rare laugh and embraced the girl he mourned. Echo and Emori greeted her kindly. Bellamy stood behind, frozen.

Monty saw the girl first, standing timidly at the edge of the group. She had hair the color of the night sky, and blue eyes that saw so deeply it was startling. Clarke introduced her as Madi, that she was Clarke's, and that was it."

A Solution by timelordlookingforatardis

Madi’s mouth was set in a thin line as she looked between the two men. Finally, setting on Jordan she announced, "I have a solution for our Prime problem.”

“Thank goodness,” Jordan beamed, moving over to join them as the table. Ignoring Bellamy’s wide-eyed protest, he said, “Tell me more.”

“It involves fire,” She started. Jordan nodded eagerly in front of her, “All -”

“Absolutely not!” Bellamy cut her off, “We are not attacking these people and destroying our chances for a better life!” He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, “They are going to teach us how to survive on this planet and then we are gone. We are not going to be the bad guys here!” He hissed.

POST 6X06 Madi, Jordan and Bellamy talk about what Clarke would've wanted.

My Home is With You by wake_n_Blake (kt_anasi)

When eight-year-old Octavia Blake is brought into the infirmary for her first check-up, Clarke gets the honor... and makes a friend.

Eventually, that friendship leads to a newfound family.

Or, the one where Clarke and Bellamy fall in love while basically raising Octavia on Earth.

Rated T for some crude language. This fic is like fluff on a stick- no angst... just happiness.

I'm Not Crying, You're Crying:

i'm on my knees, you're faith in shreds by stoneage_woman

"Over the roaring in his ears, Bellamy dimly registers Jackson telling Madi to breathe. His eyes are fixed on Clarke. Clarke, who for once isn’t even trying calm Madi down, who is visibly fighting to keep from breaking down herself, her head bowed low and her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

And Bellamy finally understands with an awful, damning clarity exactly how badly he’s fucked up."

Post Season 5 AU. As the last survivors of humanity try to make a fresh beginning on a new, deserted planet, Bellamy tries to find his way back to a lonely, distant Clarke. A life-threatening crisis opens his eyes to a few hard truths. A Bellarke reconciliation fic.

Set The Dark On Fire by theinvisibledisaster

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

Monin hou by Ghelik

After Bellamy and Clarke negotiate with the grounders, they decide to share the bunker equally. 100 spots per clan. That marks the start of 5 years of forced peace in which mortal enemies have to learn how to live with each other.

Shit goes as expected.

Blanket of leaves by Ghelik

Madi tells the story of her life: from the moment mom found her to the descent of the Seven Heroes from the sky castle

Not Yet by Ghelik

Clarke finds Madi's body in their home.

Something in the Water by Youremyalways

“You know I love you, right?”

——

Clarke is supposed to die for killing Josephine, but things go wrong at the last second. Nobody is more equipped to help Clarke deal with losing a mother than Bellamy Blake.

This is How I Leave You by Africana123

Clarke decides to take her life after the events of season 6. Right as she's getting ready to do so, Jordan finds her. But it's not what you think.

Clarke Griffin Deserves Better:

Mighty Fine Shindig by theinvisibledisaster

An idea I had while rewatching Firefly, kinda based on the episode Shindig, but you definitely don't have to have watched it to read this, because I really took this in its own direction.

When they touch down on the new planet, the leaders throw a ball in their honour, which involves Clarke in a dress getting all the attention she deserves, Bellamy being very jealous and doing a terrible job of concealing it, and possibly getting into a fight over Clarke, so... everyone's fantasy?

Just mine?

Cool.

The Bruise Won't Heal (the stain stays put) by theinvisibledisaster

“What the hell is your problem, Clarke?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, than something snapped, deep in Clarke’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” She asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Raven. I died. I died, paralysed and alone, and then I died again, and both times, the only person who cared was Bellamy. Kane died, my mother died, my daughter almost did- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

After they save everyone - again - they actually have a moment to rest.

And Clarke has had ENOUGH.

Hear me now (like you never heard me then) by evening_skies

A rewrite of Raven and Clarke’s scene in 6x04. Wherein Clarke does not regret the choices she made, and Raven wonders if the Clarke Griffin she remembers really did die in Praimfaya.

*

“Raven, I am not a leader,” Clarke said, and Raven’s words lodged in her throat. “I barely remember how to be a friend. I am a mother before all else, and you—you are the people that put monsters in my child’s head and threw her into the middle of a war.”

I accept that you may never forgive me. That’s okay. I don’t forgive you either.

Other Pairings:

In Darkness More than Light by lilybeth84

In the aftermath of the destruction of Mount Weather, with Clarke gone AWOL, his parents dead, and Jasper not speaking to him, Monty finds comfort in the dark forests beyond the walls of Camp Jaha.

One night, while in the grip of despair, he can't help wonder if life is worth living anymore. But his thoughts of death are interrupted when Clarke emerges from the woods, and he is forced to make decisions that will either save her-a woman he cares more deeply for than he ever realized-or lose her, and with her, a reason to survive.

Paradise Found by DAgron01

Octavia can't get enclosed again. Never again. She won't let them put her in cryo-freeze, but at least she's not alone...

Fix it fic--spoilers through season 5 finale! Canon-divergence

Love is Strength by DAgron01

Octavia Blake knew she was at least a little broken. She didn't plan on Clarke Griffin fixing her so thoroughly.

Canon compliant (and spoilers) through "Exit Wounds." Takes place immediately following when Madi officially becomes part of Wonkru.

Saving Clarke by btvscharmedgirl

Nearly a year after the hundred landed on the ground, Octavia watches Clarke struggle with all that happened and tries everything she can to help her in anyway she can.

As Galatea to Pygmalion by apolloadama

Clarke leaves Camp Jaha and rebuilds herself. Octavia and Lincoln help.

The Ties That Bind by Ofseaandsky

With more time to plan before the Death Wave hits, Clarke and Roan need to find a way to get the Coalition to work together and save more people to from the second Praimfaya. What will it take to get the 13 clans to work together and find a way to survive together as life on planet Earth rapidly approaches it's end?

and i'll love the world, like i should, for all the time that i never could by a_simple_space_nerd

And it’s now, of all times, that she lets herself finally, finally think: they’re up in space and I’m down on earth and even if I can survive this they’ll be up there for five years at minimum. I’m alone here.

It’s not as awful as she’d expected the revelation to be. Maybe it’s because she’s in the middle of the apocalypse but suddenly she doesn’t feel the need to curl into a ball and cry for days. Maybe it’s also the fact that she isn’t dead.

She’s still struggling not to get blown away, even sheltered as she is the ruins of some bank or something like it, the building creaking and groaning as the roaring typhoon thrashes its foundations. There’s dirt and grit flying everywhere, the dust so thick Clarke has to squint. The storm is taller than the highest skyscraper in the ruins, reaching down to the ground and back up to the sky for more fuel, thunder and lightning and everything in between all at once.

In this moment there is just Clarke and the storm and the end of the world and her uncertain future.

#the 100 #fanfiction #fic rec #bellarke #clonty #clarktavia #clincoln #clamori #clurphy #team cockroach #roark #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #madi griffin #the griffins #the griffin-blakes #clarke griffin deserves better #clarke griffin is an earth goddess and deserves only good things #my post #t100 fic rec #the 100 fic rec

[mayquita]

Kiss Me Even If You Hate Me (2/?)

I’d like to apologize in the first place to Kers, @chloeswans since this was Secret Santa gift and until now she had only got the first part. Originally, this fic was only going to have three chapters, but, it seems that it won’t be like that anymore ... Considering how slow I’m writing maybe when this story reaches the Christmas part, we will be actually celebrating Christmas... Anyway, I hope you like it.

Summary: Killian’s faithful companion, his cat Roger, has a special inclination for sneaking into his neighbor’s apartment. The problem? She is allergic to cats. And she hates him. But what will happen when Killian offers her to be part of a crazy plan?

Ao3 / FFnet Chapter 1

This is unbeta’s so all the many mistakes are mine. @saraswans Thank you as always, for believing in me and my writing and pushing me to continue doing it.

Killian saw Emma again the very next day, when he returned home from work. Trusting that their tentative approach from the previous day would have served to smooth things over between them, he dared to joke with her, using the term girlfriend to address her. The glare Emma directed at him had the immediate effect of erasing from his lips the grin that had accompanied his words, sending them back to the starting point. Or even further.

Luckily for him, Killian barely saw Emma in the next few days, so he almost managed to forget about their crazy plan and continue with his normal life, only the tiniest vestige of their kiss lingering on his lips. That memory only came to haunt him at night, in the solitude of his bedroom, while his mind recreated the moment and his brain created wild fantasies from the damn kiss. The fact that he was aware that she was probably lying in bed on the other side of the wall did not help keep his unbridled imagination at bay.

Their brief interactions had been limited to some small gesture of the head in acknowledgment or greeting and the exchange of a couple of words, maintaining a civil behavior, enough to not feed his fantasies.

Little he would have imagined that their relationship was about to take a new turn, and that, once again, his brother, or rather his entire family, would be the ones to blame. Killian should have known better. He should have suspected that the brief interrogation of his brother when he found out that Killian had a (fake) girlfriend would be just the prelude to the barrage he was subjected to the next time he saw his family.

He barely had time to enter the door of his brother's flat for their traditional Sunday lunch, when he was cornered by his sister-in-law Elsa and her sister Anna who didn't hesitate to let him know, maybe too enthusiastically, how they felt after hearing the news. "We're so happy for you", "Tell us everything!", "How could you keep the secret for so long?" Elsa was more moderate, but Anna's continuous stream of words caused him to feel an incipient headache coming on.

He tried to keep his composure, responding in monosyllables or with just a movement of his head, while suppressing the impulse to get out and lock himself in his apartment. He forced himself to remember the reason he was carrying out the bloody plan. It would always be preferable to see his family happy and excited, with wide smiles and a glimmer of anticipation — or maybe hope— in their eyes, instead of the scrutiny to which he was subjected at times, the melancholy smiles and the looks of concern at best, or charged with compassion at worst.

Even so, he couldn't stop a thought from wandering in his head, a reminder that those smiles of joy for him would have an expiration date, that this farce would end sooner or later and that he was a bastard and a coward for lying to his family in something so important instead of facing his demons once and for all.

Just as a wave of guilt approached, threatening to overwhelm him, he peered at his niece Olivia, and, showing off his cowardice, he slipped away and sought refuge in his niece and the rest of the children, trusting to distract his mind for a while by entertaining the children and allowing himself to be absorbed by their incessant energy and their contagious laughter.

Luck continued to accompany him during lunchtime as his family's interest in his love life was forgotten, adults too busy trying to make sure their children ingested the food instead of using it as throwing weapons in the pitched battle that the little rascals had organized around the table.

These meals were always a bit wild, several conversations interspersed among adults, children screaming or fighting with their siblings or cousins — Anna and her husband Kristoff also had two small boys —spilled glasses, food dropped on the floor... Maybe the majority of single adults in their thirties would try to evade being part of this kind of messy events, but there was something appealing in the midst of such craziness, and it was the feeling of belonging, of being part of something that had been denied to all of them for a long time. He was able now to enjoy the warmth of a family and get carried away by the desire to live so contagious that the children gave off, getting his mood always improve even though he ended the evening with a headache caused by such irrepressible and noisy energy.

What Killian hadn't counted on was that calm came always after the storm. Once they finished lunch, the younger children went for a nap while his niece Olivia and Josh, the eldest son of Anna and Kristoff were entertained with a movie, which left the adults a quiet moment to chat peacefully. Just what Killian didn't need at all.

He didn't even have time to take a sip of his coffee when the inquiry began. Killian had no choice but to arm himself with patience and rely on his ability to improvise, while cursing inwardly for not having prepared some answers in advance. What the hell was he thinking?

"Well, little brother, I believe you have something to tell us. Don't think that I haven't realized how you've slipped away before." Elsa was the first to speak, while giving him an expectant look.

"It's younger. In law." Killian pointed before letting out an exaggerated sigh, not hiding his irritation at the way Elsa was addressing him. He already had enough with his bloody brother, thank you very much. Elsa simply rolled her eyes and then raised an eyebrow, as an indication that she was waiting for an answer. "I suppose your husband has already informed you of everything there is to know. I've been seeing someone for three months. She has been invited to spend the holidays with us and she has accepted. End of the story."

"End of the story? Not at all, not when we don’t even know the beginning. We want details, Killy.” Anna almost bounced excitedly in her seat.

Killian hated that Anna used that term of endearment with him, just as his sister-in-law had ended up emulating his husband and used the term "little brother" more often than not, something that made him almost cringe. He was aware that it was an affectionate term but it did nothing to mitigate that feeling of being like a small child who had to be cared for.

Hi did not have the slightest desire to expand his explanations, but Elsa didn't even give him time to reply, continuing with the interrogation, to his dismay. "Yes! We want to know everything, such as her identity. Are you dating your neighbor, the blonde girl? I think we've met her in the hallway once, she seems nice."

Nice... He wouldn't describe Emma as a nice person, but rather a bit of a badass, at least with him, but that was part of her appeal, wasn't it? She was tough, enigmatic and at the same time stunning... He noticed how his cheeks began to burn, while a warm sensation spread through his body. Stop! He needed to stop imagining Emma and focus on the conversation if he didn't want to embarrass himself and look like a schoolboy with his first crush.

"Aye, Emma has been my neighbor for several months. Something else?"

"Of course, we want to know how it all began. Tell us and give us some juicy detail." Anna insisted as she rubbed her hands together causing him to roll his eyes while her husband snorted. After letting out a sigh of resignation, he began to tell their story.

"It was Roger's fault. He slipped into her apartment and she's allergic to cats. She didn't take it well and let's say the relationship didn't get off to a good start, but then things seem to have turned out just fine."

"Oh, an enemies to lovers story, isn't that cute?" Anna grinned at him. "And with a kitten involved. It's like a romantic novel, isn't it?" He repressed the impulse to raise his gaze to the ceiling begging for mercy. Little did he know that his particular ordeal had only just begun.

From there on, the two women of the family began to ask him more specific questions related to both Emma and their relationship, to which he had no choice but to seek improvised answers, while making a mental note in a desperate attempt to remember all that information for the future.

"What's her favorite color?"

Who cares?  "Yellow." The image of her yellow beetle parked always occupying the best spot just in front of their block of flats came to mind.

"Have you met her family yet?"

"She doesn't have any close relatives." He only remembered a tall brunette woman visiting her flat. Which led him to wonder what was the true story of Emma Swan. She always seemed a lonely woman. Maybe she also had a traumatic past? For some reason that possibility caused a strange sensation to settle in the pit of his stomach. He would have to ask her at some point if he wanted this farce to succeed.

"Is she addicted to TV shows like you?"

He couldn't suppress an incipient smile appearing on his face before answering, "Oh yes." Of that, he was sure. The wall that separated the two apartments was so thin that he only need to remain silent to listen to what was happening on the other side. He could confirm that she spent hours in front of the television.

"Do you share musical tastes?"

Hell no. "No." He was more into the rock bands of the 80s and 90s while she kept listening to Ed Sheeran at full volume. He was sure that she did it on purpose, as a sophisticated and subtle method of psychological torture.

Something came to his mind right then. He found it a bit contradictory and at the same time quite interesting that a person as tough as Emma had a soft side at least in terms of music. He took another mental note with the goal of teasing her about that matter at the first moment he had a chance.

The interrogation continued for a while longer, while his resources of improvisation began to run out. At the moment in which even the affable Kristoff dared to launch himself a question about Emma, he knew that he had reached his boiling point. Fortunately, his brother seemed to notice his uneasiness and came to his rescue, although in that peculiar way of his that almost supposed that the cure was worse than the disease. "Well, we'll have time to meet her and ask her in person soon. I already told you so, little brother, I understand that you want to be cautious, but I know you, we all know you." Liam paused, his hand waving to encompass all the family members present. "We know that when you put your heart into something you do it completely. She is the lucky one here, don't forget it."

His lips twisted slightly in a failed attempt at a smile as a feeling of guilt crept from his stomach to form a lump in his throat. This was all wrong. He shouldn't lie to his family in this way, let alone implicate Emma in such a farce. Nobody deserved it.

"Show us some pictures, I'm sure you have several of them on your phone."

Bloody hell! His heart froze for a moment, while the palms of his hands began to sweat. Of course, Elsa would ask about the photographs. How could he have forgotten that his sister-in-law was a sucker for pictures? It did not matter if they were travel photos, selfies, or just cute images. For her, photography was a medium that allowed us to tell stories through the image. She was a photographer for a reason. He cursed himself inwardly, for being so stupid as to pretend to cheat on his family without even elaborating a plan of action. He should abort the mission just at that moment. It was the right thing to do, isn't it? But then he glanced at his family. They were looking at him with their eyes full of hope and bright smiles, something he had not seen addressed to him in a long time. He could not disappoint them once again. While taking a deep breath, he came with a makeshift answer.

"I'm afraid it's not going to be possible." He shrugged as one of the corners of his lips twisted upward in an apologetic expression. "I ran out of space on the device and had to transfer all the content to my laptop. Maybe next time."

A flash of disappointment crossed Elsa's eyes, but she recovered after a few seconds, offering a soft smile. "Maybe next time come sooner than expected. Since it seems that the thing between the two of you has become official, I was thinking that you could bring Emma next week for our Sunday lunch."

Not a chance. Especially since that meant he would have to convince Emma again. He did not even want to speculate on what she would demand in return, not to mention what a scrutiny like the one he had been subjected to would suppose for her. He had no intention of finding out. No way in hell.

"We already had plans and we won't be here next week. Even I am aware that the fewer people there are in this first meeting, the less likely it’s that we frighten her to the point of making her flee."

Anna wasn't helping, certainly. The mere thought that Emma could be with him next week, sitting next to him in this very couch caused a chill to run down his spine. And not in a good way. He was so fucked up.

He left his brother's apartment late in the afternoon, without expressly committing himself to bring Emma next time. "I'll see what I can do. Let's say that she is not a very social person." It was the most they could get out of him.

While driving home, he had time to reevaluate Elsa's proposal. Maybe it was not such a bad idea. In fact, maybe it was something convenient. That first meeting would allow them to pave the way for what would happen at Christmas. He prayed to find Emma in a good mood. Or at least for her to be at home. He had the feeling that if he gave himself time to brood over the idea, he would finally chicken up and find it even harder to make the request.

It turned out that luck was on his side in that regard. As soon as he reached his door, just when he was taking the keys out of his pocket, Emma opened her own door, as if she had been invoked.

He was so unprepared to see her at that very moment that he almost makes a fool of himself when he was about to drop the keys. Bloody hell. This woman had a powerful effect on him both for good and bad. Once the first impression was over, he forced himself to put on the mask of bravado as a means of hiding his inner nervousness. To his relief, she seemed equally surprised, her eyes widening as her mouth fell open until she reacted, schooling her features and raising an eyebrow at him in an unimpressed gesture.

She was stunning, even just wearing leggins, a tank top and with her hair in a ponytail. Her attire seemed to indicate that she was not going anywhere but Killian couldn't help wondering why she had opened the door just then. Feeling that this could be a topic to push and get a reaction from her, Killian shortened the distance between him and his beautiful neighbor while his lips drew a mischievous smile.

"Hi, love, are you going somewhere or is just that you are eager to see your handsome fake boyfriend?"

Her reaction was the expected, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Or maybe it's just that I was waiting for someone..." She smirked at him. To his credit, he kept his smile, though he felt a twinge of something like jealousy in his stomach.

"Is that so?" He came even closer to her, invading her personal space, while tilting his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He had to suppress raising his fist in triumph when he saw the effect he had just caused on her. Her pupils dilated as her gaze drifted to his lips. He decided to push his luck a little more. "That would be a pity, because I happen to have a suggestion for you, something you will not be able to refuse." His voice dropped to a suggestive murmur.

Her gaze lingered on his lips for a split second until finally, her green eyes focused on his. "What do you want this time, Jones?"

It was now or never. It would be better if he didn't take the time to process the implications and just act. Summoning an act of unusual determination, he hastened to throw the proposition. "It turns out that today I've been visiting my family, like every Sunday, and they have suggested that you and I go to have lunch with them next Sunday. Isn't it exciting, Swan? Consider it a practice for when the big event takes place."

He had expected a much more explosive reaction, maybe a frown, perhaps a grimace, or even a little yelling. Instead, her reaction was much more subtle. He wasn't sure if that was a positive signal or not. Something he wasn't able to identify flashed in her gaze, and then her eyes narrowed and her head tilted a bit, subjecting him to an uncomfortable scrutiny.

"I've missed the part where this crazy plan is exciting. Care to explain how spending a Sunday afternoon surrounded by strangers, children included, while pretending to be your girlfriend may have something attractive to me?"

"The food will be delicious and my nephews and niece are quite adorable." He offered tentatively. Seriously Jones? What the hell are you thinking?

"The kids thing isn’t helping, buddy."

Okay. Emma wasn’t a kid person. Point to add in his imaginary list of things that he should know about Emma Swan. After letting out a heavy sigh, he had no choice but to resort to the method of persuasion had worked so well the previous time. He would have to beg.

"Come on, Swan, I've done my part of the plan so far. I'm the one who has to put up with Roger's plaintive mewling or worse, the murderous looks he throws at me when I stop him from going out on one of his exploratory adventures." Emma scoffed as she shook her head. "I'm not lying, he may be a small creature but sometimes he can be very intimidating." He was rambling, he was aware, but at least he had managed to get the ghost of a smile from Emma. Even so, she remained silent so he had no choice but to use once more the pleading tone while his lips drew a convincing pout. "Please?"

He held his breath as he tried to get distracted by the movement of her tongue licking her lips and the way her chest rose as she took a deep breath. He did not miss the soft blush that appeared on her cheeks either. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally decided to reply. "This is a one-time thing, Jones, I swear." She hardened her features as she raised a finger in warning. "Don't think that this is going to become a normal practice. You'll have to find an excuse for the next few weeks until Christmas."

"Sure. A one-time thing, just like the kiss. Got it." He managed to respond in a neutral tone and then pressed his lips together in an attempt to suppress the grin that threatened to form.

"And one more thing, do you have any cash with you?"

His brow furrowed in confusion as he groped in his pocket for his wallet. "What do you need the...?" When he looked up again he found that Emma was looking over his shoulder, while a non-subtle smirk was blossoming on her face. He turned following the direction of her gaze, meeting a delivery guy approaching with a box of pizza in his hands.

"Hi, E. Swan? I have a delivery for you." Emma gave the guy a sweet smile as she accepted the box.

"Thank you." Then she turned to him, plastering on a fake smile. "Can you pay for our dinner, honey? And don't forget the tip, since the service has been quite satisfactory so far."

Killian glared at her, but he complied without uttering a single word, especially not to embarrass the poor guy even more, who had been involved in that situation accidentally. The delivery man muttered a timid "thank you," before scurrying down the hall.

Emma took advantage of that moment of distraction to attempt to sneak away too, but he was faster. "Easy there, love. Since, after all, it's me who had just paid for that pizza, we could share it, don't you think?" He wasn't sure of the reason for that suggestion. Certainly, he wasn't hungry since it hadn't been that long since the family lunch. And having a conversation with Emma was quite a challenge. He tried to convince himself that this would be just a tactic to gather information about her so as not to make a fool of himself in front of his family next time.

"No, I don't think so. I happen to be very hungry. Also, consider it a payment in advance for what will happen next week." After giving him a triumphant glance, she closed the door in his face, without giving him time to reply.

"What the..." He remained speechless in the middle of the corridor for a few seconds, trying to process what had just happened. He should have imagined it. He couldn't prevent a laugh from bubbling in his throat at the surrealism of the situation. Was it possible that Emma had flirted with the poor delivery boy? Or was it something that only he had appreciated because she had managed to charm him in a way?

In the end, it was clear that she had managed to have free dinner at his expense and he had achieved what he intended, continue with the farce for a little longer and pave the way to make the official introduction of Emma to his family. The very idea of that next encounter caused a chill to run down his spine as his body tensed. He was not sure he could handle the situation at all. Not with someone like Emma as an accomplice.

He shook his head to get out of the trance as he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. Once his composure was restored, he finally headed to his apartment. Before he could open the door, though, his neighbor's door opened again and Emma's head poked through the gap.

"Uh, you wouldn’t have any beer, would you? I may have run out of them."

He looked towards her with some disbelief, as he bit the inside of his cheek, holding back a snarky retort. Instead, he merely nodded in resignation, trusting that her requests would not go any further. "Sure, love, how many do you need?"

"That depends on the beers you're gonna drink." There was a challenge there, both in her eyes and her voice, but Killian also detected something else, something he couldn't identify. Maybe a glimpse of what was behind the walls around her?

His brows knitted together as he gave her an inquiring look through his narrow eyes. "Does that mean I'm invited now?"

"Don't make me regret it. Are you bringing the beers or not?"

"I'll be right back." To his credit, he repressed the urge to smile like an idiot until he found himself in the privacy of his apartment. His grin widened when Roger came out to meet him. "I'm sorry mate, I'm afraid that I won't be able to accompany you at dinner today." After caressing his back, he hurriedly filled his container with food and then went to the fridge to grab the beers. 

Before leaving his apartment to meet Emma again he took two deep breaths, while he tried unsuccessfully not to read too much in her sudden change of mind. This would be the first time that Emma deliberately invited him to her apartment with no other purpose than to hang out together, even if she had used beer as an excuse. That change of attitude had to mean something. He had better not waste that opportunity if he wanted to succeed next week.

//

Thanks for reading, let me know what you all think :)

Tagging some people who may be interested @resident-of-storybrooke , @suwya , @onceuponaprincessworld @imagnifika @let-it-raines

#cs ff #cs au #mayquita writes #captain swan #kiss me even if you hate me #my cs writings #captain swan ff

[telling-our-stories]

Coming out stories

A heads-up. These are the original stories, however, they are anonymous. This wasn't intentional, I just screwed up and didn't tag. These stories, aren't mine, so if I've posted yours and you want it taken down. Please, just ask me.

Alright.

I am tired of people who are against the LGBTQ+ community. Its alright to have an opinion. It is not alright to put people down for being themselves. The first pride was a riot, a fight for what they believe in. I'm trying to do the same. I'm trying to gather the stories of the fallen, the ones who are still standing, the people who are willing to fight for everything they are. And I am fully willing to take a stand and fight to prove we exist. To prove that we're here, and we aren't backing down.

Hello, my name is Dustyn. I'm here today to collect stories from the LGBTQ+ community. There's a lot of people who are against us, which is exactly why we need to stand our ground. I'm not asking for a fight, I'm asking for your stories. My story is not yet finished, though I'm a bisexual trans male. Our stories are important, because they show who we are and how far we've come. I've struggled a lot in my life, but I've made it. So have others. Here are some of those stories. We'll start with mine. I've gone through many identities, mostly trying to figure myself out. I'm still doing that. My family doesn't accept me for me, but I have many friends who do. There are so many accepting people in life, and I appreciate all of you who are proud to be who you are. Whether closeted or not, you are all valid and amazing.

"Hello my name is Melissa and i am bisexual. My family didn't really have a harsh reaction to it other than the fact that they didn't understand it at first. That was most of my trouble was people saying that bisexual wasnt valid. Im sorry mine is so short but i think the moral is that you are valid. No matter what you identify as on any spectrum in the LGBTQ+ community. Also even if your outside of the LGBTQ+ community and your just an ally. We love you and you are all valid.”

"Salutations everyone. My name is Talan. I am non binary, panromantic and i am currently between asexual and demisexual. I was raised in a very christian household where my mother and father had very strict beliefs. They believed that being anything but straight and to me being anything other than my assigned gender was a sin, and many people still say that to me. When I came out to my dad he flipped, he took me out of school for a year and put me in online school. During this time in my life I had reached a dark time where i thought that it was never going to get better but trust me it does. I am still living with my dad who does not accept me and at this point we don't talk that much, but it does get better. We have gotten to the point where we can have a civil conversation with each other and im back in school. I have an amazing girlfriend and multiple qpps who i love very much. Everybody at school is very loving and supporting. Remember that family is not chosen for you, you make your own family. If you ever feel down than just know that there are so many amazing and kind people in the world who love you for who you are, no matter what that may be. You are loved."

“I'm glad you reached out to me, anything to help people understand more about the LGBTQ+ community. I am 19 now and I came out to my family at the age of 14. My parents were the typical ones who said it was just a phase and it would not last but here I am five years later and I made it through. There was a point where I had no one to turn to but then i met my amazing boyfriend. He helped me through the good and the bad and showed me that there were things to stay for. I am now in college and pursuing a career in photography at the University of Arizona. I hope that could help a bit!”

"Okay. Well. My coming out experience was definitely not expected in the slightest. I was in the 5th grade. Realizing that I liked both boys and girls was quite the revelation. I had a lesbian friend who was the first ever gay person I met or knew. I remember being backstage of a show I was in and just crying through the words, "I know I'm supposed to love guys, but I love girls too". After that. I didn't tell anyone else, until 6th grade. I was a track meet and a group of people I sat with was talking to my lesbian friend about kissing. I forget the exact conversation, but I spoke up and said I would kiss her. A Christian girl in my class was nearby and heard. She was disgusted. Therfore by the end of the week, I was completely outed to my entire school. It was ugly, but it got better over time I guess. I'm a junior in high school now. I have yet to come out to my parents, but at least I know that I am finally comfortable in my my sexual orientation and gender identify (demigirl, which I didn't figure out until a few short months ago)."

"Hey, I haven't actually come out to everyone yet but I have told a few people and all of their reactions were positive "oh you're bi? cool" and that was it. No "so do you like me?" or anything which was super great. So I was "straight" and when I heard about the LGBT community I was "straight" for about another five days. I did some thinking and realised I'd actually liked girls before, and shortly after came out as bi to a few of my close friends at the time. They were all supportive, bar one who said "you're just looking for attention lmao".Coincidentally, she had also come out as pan and had received the usual "you're attracted to pans?". I go to a Christian school, so it would be pretty disastrous if the news leaked out, but naturally it did. Not everyone knows, maybe about 10% of my grade. I suspect some teachers found out about how some people were LGBT (not many though, there's about 5 of us), because our dean of year gave the "you're too young to know that" talk. Mostly at school we get sheltered from all LGBT news and details at all, and my parents hadn't told me much about it either, even though they are supportive and would be okay if I came out as bi."

"I'm bisexual. I first came out to my elementary friends over the phone 3 years after we went to different middle schools. They were mostly all so accepting and I was so overwhelmed I hung up on them. I spent a few minutes laying on the ground clutching that phone to my chest, I'd never felt so loved. I cried and cried and cried because these people atleast the ones who accepted me see me different now but are okay with it. Two years later, now, I still haven't come out to my parents. I still need a few years but I'm a little bit more open at school now most of my friends accept me. Others were cut off, I can't do that with my family so they still don't know. Not as if they would take me seriously either way. I want to get past college get a place a stable life then maybe I'll be ready, just maybe. Thank you for listening to my story."

"I was surrounded by my Uncle and his husband for years. I always knew that gay people existed. When I was younger I never thought anything different of myself; I thought I was one of the boys.

 It never really clicked that I was the only one who saw it that way.

When I was 7, my mother and sister suggested I take dance I shot them down saying "that's for girls."

They didn't get it.

I wasn't entirely sure what came over me in that moment either but I know it felt right.

As myself and the people I knew grew up I realised I wasn't happy with the way I looked. I tossed it up as your typical dislike.

~every girl went through that at my age didn't they~

All the girls I knew were so happy that they were becoming women and I just sat in the back wondering why I didn't feel the same way.

I still didn't get it.

Once my depressed state got worse I decided to read into ways to love yourself and your body.

I started taking selfies, dressing up, wearing heels and makeup, forcing myself to sing even though I hated the way I looked and sounded.

It got worse.

I broke down when nobody was looking and acted like it was fine; like I wasn't praying that whatever I was feeling would go away for even a second.

And one day I looked in the mirror and I thought "this isnt right. This isn't me. This isn't what I want. Who in the hell is that person staring back at me?"

And I accepted it. That I would never be who I should be. That I would never be happy. Because nobody would love me. Nobody would want me. And nobody would accept me. Because if I was happy then that meant my family wouldn't have had the little girl theh thought they had gotten.

And up until recently no one knew that I broke down every night, that my thoughts got so bad I wanted to drown in my own tears so that maybe it would all be over. Because to me coming out to them was worse than death.

And here I am years later. My family knows but they don't care. They don't try to comprehend that this repression it kills me all the time. So I gathered my money got myself exactly what they told me they would never let me have and I lie. I go behind their backs and I live like the man I really am online. I bind my chest and I hide from their sight and when they ask I say it's just their eyes.

Because if they knew - if my mother knew - they would rather me suffer day after day than be who I am."

"heyo, i read your post and id like to put something to it.

i am a part of the community, havent came out to my parents yet, because i know for a fact id be sent to a psichologist or thrown out. but i am me online

an old friend of mine is a trans guy and found me a few weeks ago. he said he saw that i support LGBT+ and it was so comforting for him. a friend who i haven't talked with for 9 years!after he told me that he lost half of his family for being himself, his dad ignores him since, but he has a boyfriend and got his life together

and that i could be a little comfort for him is really nice. even the people who are closeted can be helpful in the community."

"Well, my mom took it well. I had gotten stuck in my closet and then she got me unstuck and I told her I was queer.

My brother, we were sitting in the car and he told me he always knew, but I had to keep it a secret from my dad or else bad things would happen.

My friends hugged me and started to use my name and pronounsSo coming out to my dad and stepmom, it wasn't even a coming out but a forced outage.

They took my phone away the night of a Panic attack that I still have nightmares over and searched it. They read all my messages.... everything.

I wanted to scream for it to stop, but I knew it wouldn't. They told me that they loved me, but I had to stop being me and I have to go back to being a girl who was cishet

But once you have a taste of freedom of who you really are, you can never go back ...I couldn't hide again. I just had to wait till I could spread my wings and be free somewhere else."

"Ok so for the thing you tagged me in, I don’t exactly have a coming out story yet, and I’m not sure of my identity entirely. I’ve tried out tons of labels and am sticking with queer at the moment just cuz it takes the stress off of picking an extremely definite word to describe me. I came out as queer last year, but I don’t consider it a coming out story because 1) I only told my friends and not my family, and 2) queer doesn’t completely define me. In real life, I’m doing my best to go back in the closet, but I think my “friends” may have told other people who spread rumors around my school, so it’s been difficult. A bunch of people make random references to me liking boys (I’m amab) and it made me uncomfortable enough that I started telling them I’m straight. I’m planning on staying as far in the closet as possible until people get more accepting and I understand myself fully."

"It's not a coming out story (mostly) but it's a realization of sorts.

Yesterday our Social Studies teached asked us to form groups and discuss a contemporary issue that we would present at the front in a few minutes. Long story short I suggested LGBT+ community and rights, which my group mates accepted. I live in a really conservative country (with at least 81% of the entire population identifying as Christians) and that's an extremely taboo topic. It ended up leading the teacher asking us to raise our hands if we believed the lgbt community should be allowed Civil Union, not considering religion an all. I was so afraid to raise my hand, but it was what I believed in and I couldn't live with it if I didn't show it, so I raised my hand. I didn't really do this as a member of the community, I wasn't thinking of myself. I was thinking of a world where this is accepted in my country, where I can go outside and be open and love whoever I wanted to, and I guess the idea of standing up for what I believed in was what pushed me to do that. A big majority of the class was against, and I was just so afraid even though some small logical part of me knew they would not do anything.Today, our Civics teacher had us grouped again to make a live news report and once again, my group (international news) got assigned lgbt+ community because of our listed problems yesterday. I suggested interviewing a member of the community and basically came out to two people I knew were trustworthy (nearly all three other members in that group but thank God I think the third one did not hear) and we agreed that I could be used if I only had my voice recorded and edited to not sound like me. Just a few hours ago I found out that one of my classmates, who I thought was a nice sweet boy, turned out to be a big homophobe. "Sodom and Gomora and Liberals are teaching unnatural things" kind of guy.I guess that broke something in me, because another thing I was really passionate about for when I grew up was this certain job, though no one supported me. I used to want to do that so much the idea of anything else repelled me, sometimes the idea of the other more "acceptable" jobs brought me to tears. Somehow this one admission that I thought everyone should have the right to at least a civil union and finding out my classmates didn't believe in that crushed something in me hard enough that I lost the passion to do that job I wanted. It makes no sense how this connected with that apart from the fact that neither are things I have been or would be supported on, but I guess seeing that this world isn't really safe made me lose hope.I felt scared to raise my hand, almost like I was actually coming out (which I now realize I'm absolutely never doing to many of those people) and the realization that some place I thought was a safe space for me, because all of those people in that class, I thought I could trust them. I've been with them since before I could spell "friend" correctly, they're family to me, I believed I would be safe and accepted, and then came to find out that wasn't quite the case...But well, basically I was terrified then crushed to find out that I could have outted myself to a group of people who would not take my news lightly

Found out some people I thought were friends thought people like me were broken

Found out some people I used to have the biggest crushes on didn't even believe in letting people have a civil union."

"I’m very excited to see brave people like you ready to start a revolution, so I thought I’d share my, sorta, coming out experience.

So I have divorced parents meaning I’d have to come out to four parents. This happened mainly last year. I was pretty sure I was bi, (tho I now identify panromantic demigirl) I knew my dad and stepmom would be great with it, and they were. But when it came to my mother, well, she wasn’t really homophobic, but she had different ideas about how a gay person should behave. She outed me to her after overhearing a convo with my friends. She then told me I was too young, and gave the “its a phase” talk. She knew I was fairly open about it because I lived by a motto to “be so myself that other people feel brave enough to be themselves too” But she believed a gay person should keep it a secret. Nowadays I don’t believe in the process of “coming out” I am open about my sexuality and gender but I don’t do formal coming outs. I always believed that if straights don’t have to, neither should I just because I “don’t fit a default” My mother wants me to come out to my stepfather even tho he already knows. I thought sharing a coming out story that also showed you should never feel obligated to come out. My mother guilt trips me about it, but I remain rooted in my beliefs that I shouldn’t have to come out, which I think is valid.

Hope my story can help anyone and just wanna say you are so so valid, amazing and powerful and should never feel pressured to be open if you don’t want to. Long live the revolution!!!🏳️‍🌈."

"Hello! I read your post about collecting LGTBQA+ stories and I thought Id share my brief experiences as a bi girl from Germany ^^

Tbh I never made a big deal about coming out, as I personally feel it goes to show that we're revealing a wierd secret, and Id like my sexualtiy to be something normal, not a main identifying characteristic. And everyone of my friends or classmates that I mention it to appear to have no problem with that whatsoever, and as far as I know Im not percieved as predatory either.

My family, however, is a whole different matter. While Im sure that my mums side of the family would be perfectly fine and my parents know already, when youve heard your fathers parents talk about eastern europeans and other immigrants using only slurwords and your uncles parents have expressed their absolute disgust about seeing a gay couple enjoy a nice picnic at the park, you get very cautious about who you tell. Especially since I dont want to put the supportive family in the position of having to consider whom they can talk to about this.

Another thing that Ive noticed after my exchange year in Sweden and seeing my first pride, though not having the time to attend, on my way there in Copenhagen, is how little support my country gives to this community from a social perspective. At my swedish school, all the teachers had a rainbow keyband from a *seminar about LGBTQA+ people*, something Im sure Germany would never do, and all of them kept it. There was no question whether you support us or not, it was an acceped part of social life and no big deal; we even did a private introduction round for pronouns!

And then I came back here. During pride month, there were no rainbow decorations, the most I saw of a parade was two discarded paper flags on the ground afterwards. When I vented about this to my ally friend, she only said that "some people and companies just like to stay neutral". Try all of them in Germany, but sure.

I know our community has come far, but I can also see that it isnt fsr enough, and that is the fight I am still fighting.

Hope this helps ^^."

"Alright. Mine isnt that interesting but I'll do my best :)

I came out as bisexual when i was in the sixth grade. It wasnt a huge deal to my mom. She said okay and we went on with our lives. Around the end of that year, i told her i thought i was trans and she said i wasnt. I came out to her again six months later and she said the same thing. There was a lot of yelling. Mind you, she isnt transphobic at all. The third time... she was so done with me. She yelled and so did i. It took four different times for her to accept me, and even then, i had to do the last time over text because i was scared of her reaction."

"So, my name is Ell. I identify as queer and demigender. I don't know what to say here really early than it's important to find others like you when you're not as close to your family as you used to be. Because of your identity. My family is more accepting than most, but still. The community online is so so important to me, and this project makes me really happy. So thank you. "

"I was at sea world and my mom was in the car I was talking about how my dad was super homophobic. My mom says that my dad acts like it’s a disease I said will if it is then I have got it, My mom is understanding and says that she will love me no matter what."

"So, I’m non-binary and bisexual. That’s a big no-no in a latino family like mine, it’s always grow up, get married with the opposite sex, and have kids. I don’t know why I felt that I could just say anything to my mom one day and she immediately objected. “Are you sure you’re not a lesbian or just confused? You can’t like more than one gender. Also, what’s this about a non gender? You’re either a boy or a girl, that’s it.”

Thankfully after a lecture and me apologizing (though I did nothing but tell her more about me) she let the subject go. I’ve never told my dad because I know mom just will get in the way and say I’m lying again, but at least my friends are understanding and almost completely LGBTQ+."