#Who is the “unknown composer/author”?

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Inque

Not much is known of the origins of the shapeshifting mercenary and saboteur known as Inque.  How she came to possess her metahuman abilities remains unknown.  Her form is composed of a dark, ink-like substance that is entirely malleable.  This allowed her to alter her shape at will, forms her limbs into sharpened weapons, slip easily through cracks and slide across surfaces at great speeds.  Her one vulnerability appeared to be water, which caused her to become defuse and lose her ability to maintain structural integrity.  Although water was not lethal for Inque and she has been able to re-manifest her form once dried.

Inque was hired by Derrick Powers during a time in which Wayne/Powers was competing with Foxteca over a highly lucrative governmental contract.  Powers tasked Inque with sabotaging Foxteca facilities so to ensure his company landed the contract.  Bruce Wayne investigated the matter and assigned Batman (Terry McGinnis) to stand guard over the additional Foxteca plants in the case that the saboteur were to strike again.  This indeed occurred yet Batman was unprepared for an altercation with someone as formidable as Inque and she easily evaded capture in their initial altercation.   

Learning that Batman was once more meddling in his affairs, Derrick Powers tasked Inque with assassinating him and any accomplice he might be working with.  Sneaking into the Batmobile, Inque accompanied Batman back to the Batcave before attacking him.  Transforming into a torrent of ink, she nearly succeeded in suffocating Batman but was stopped by Bruce Wayne (who used an old Gray Ghost costume to hide his identity).  Bruce ultimately utilized Mr. Freeze’s freeze gun to incapacitate Inque whereupon she was delivered to the authorities.  Without the services of his saboteur, Powers lost out on the contract to Foxteca.  

Inque would return on subsequent occasions to battle Batman.  Some time thereafter, the mutagenic substance that bestowed Inque her abilities began to break down making it difficult to maintain a physical form.  She turned to her estranged daughter, Deanna Clay, for aid.  She had Deanna steal a mutagenic compound from Gotham Genetics that could stabilize her condition.  Deanna went through with this, but cut the compound with a solvent as part of a plan to kill her mother and pilfer her savings.  Inque discovered her daughter’s betrayal too late. Starting to dissolve, she attacked Deanna yet Batman arrived in time to save her. Together they watched Inque seemingly melt into nothingness. 

Actress Shannon Kenny provided the voice for the villain with Inque first appearing in the third episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Black Out.’ 

[wingedhallows]

— LEAP OF FAITH —

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ PAIRING ellie williams x reader / 2.6k words *ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNING (modern setting) smut - MDI *ੈ✩‧₊˚ SYNOPSIS Months after a painful breakup, Ellie Williams is just trying to keep her head down — working at a quiet bookshop, healing in her own quiet way — when the last person she expected walks back into her life. You’ve changed. At least, that’s what Ellie’s trying to figure out as old wounds resurface and new sparks start to flicker. You’re sober now. Steady. But the past doesn’t disappear just because you’ve cleaned up. What follows is a slow, emotional unraveling of everything left unsaid — a story of longing, rebuilding, and the messy, beautiful chaos of loving someone who once let you down. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ AUTHORS NOTE hey babes, i've been sick for a few days - my immune system hates me but i shall deliver, so here u go :)

♡︎ navigation ♡

The bell above the door let out a soft chime, cutting through the quiet murmur of soft jazz and the faint rustling of pages. Ellie glanced up from the counter, half-expecting to see another regular — maybe the old man who always asked for spy novels he’d already read, or the college kid who never bought anything. But her breath caught halfway in her throat when she saw you.

You stood just inside the entrance, damp from the spring rain, a folded umbrella dripping quietly at your side. A moment passed, a beat suspended in air, and you smiled. Tentative. Almost apologetic.

“Hey,” you said, voice soft, a little cautious. Like you weren’t sure if you were welcome here.

Ellie’s heart thudded, sharp and unexpected. You looked different — not in the obvious ways. The leather jacket was swapped for something simpler, softer. Your eyes, once rimmed with the careless edge of late nights and too many drinks, now held a kind of quiet clarity. There was still something wild in them, but it was tempered. Controlled.

“Hey,” Ellie said after a second, clearing her throat. “Didn’t think I’d see you around here.”

“I moved back. A couple months ago.”

Of course you did. Of course you were back, just when she’d finally stopped checking every face in a crowd, every unknown number on her phone. Still, she nodded, neutral. Careful.

You stepped forward, eyes flicking around the store. “Place looks nice. Yours?”

“Mine and Joel’s. He handles the paperwork. I… handle the books.”

Your smile deepened. “Sounds like the dream.”

There was a silence. Not awkward — just full. Full of the things neither of you had said when it all broke apart. Ellie felt the memories curl up from the corners of the room — the arguments, the shouting, the helplessness in watching you unravel from someone she loved into someone she didn’t recognize.

And now you were standing here, whole.

“I’ve been sober for eight months,” you said, like you could feel the questions she wasn’t asking.

Ellie’s gaze snapped to yours. That look — the one that used to slice right through her when you were being real with her — it was back. Raw and open.

“That’s… good,” she said. “I’m glad.”

You nodded, holding her eyes. “I came by because I wanted to say that. To you. I know I don’t get to ask for anything else, but…”

She blinked. “But?”

“…But I missed you.”

Something lodged itself in her throat. A protest, maybe. Or a memory. Instead, she leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, trying to look more composed than she felt.

“You want coffee?” she asked.

Your brows rose, hopeful. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

Later that week

The rain had returned, falling in lazy sheets against Ellie’s windows as the kettle whistled. You sat curled on the couch in an old hoodie — hers — and she wondered when it had started to feel so easy again. So dangerous.

You were laughing at something she’d said, something about a ridiculous customer, when the moment shifted. Slowed. Your eyes lingered. Her pulse jumped.

“I still dream about you sometimes,” you said quietly.

Ellie looked away. “Don’t.”

“I’m not trying to mess with you. I just… I never stopped loving you, even when I was a mess.”

She stood, abruptly, the storm outside suddenly mirrored in her chest.

“You don’t get to say that like it fixes things.”

“I know. I just want to be honest.”

You followed her, slow, until you were standing in her space — too close. Close enough she could smell the rain still clinging to you, the faint trace of citrus soap, something steady and clean and new.

Her voice was quiet when she said, “I don’t know if I can trust this. Trust you.”

You reached out, gently, fingers brushing her wrist. “Then don’t. Just feel it.”

When she kissed you, it was like striking a match — sudden heat, a breathless flicker of want that flared into something hungrier. Your hands tangled in her shirt as hers found your waist, pulling you in, anchoring you. The world shrank to skin and breath and the soft sounds you made as her mouth moved down your neck.

“Ellie—”

That was all you managed before she was pushing you gently back toward the couch, eyes dark with something that was definitely not just caution anymore.

You landed on the couch with a quiet breath, half-caught between tension and surrender. Ellie hovered above you, her weight held in her arms, her eyes scanning yours like she was searching for all the cracks she used to know.

“You have no idea,” she murmured, voice low, “how many nights I hated you. And how many more I just… missed you.”

Your hands slid up to her jaw, gentle. “I hated me too.”

She exhaled, shaky, as if hearing you admit that finally let her loosen something she’d been gripping for too long.

Your fingers threaded into her hair, urging her down — not demanding, just there, present, like you couldn’t stand another second of distance. And when your mouths met again, it wasn’t soft anymore.

It was desperate.

Messy and full of all the months you’d spent pretending you were okay without each other.

Ellie kissed you like she was starved. Her mouth devoured yours, tongue sliding against yours with a kind of practiced ache — muscle memory in every movement. Her body sank against you, and the weight of her made you gasp, just slightly, enough for her to pull back and whisper:

“Still remember everything about you.”

The way her voice broke on that made your heart ache.

“You feel different,” she added, kissing along your jaw, your neck. “But you still taste the same.”

Your hoodie was peeled off slowly, with fingers that trembled just slightly, and you didn’t rush her — couldn’t. Not when her hands moved over your skin like she was learning a map she’d burned and thought she'd never see again.

Your shirt came off next, and Ellie’s breath caught audibly. She looked at you like she couldn’t believe this was real — you, beneath her again. Hers, in a way that wasn’t just physical.

She leaned down, kissed between your breasts, your stomach, like she was apologizing in fragments.

“I wanted to call you so many times,” she said, lips brushing your skin. “But I thought if I did… I’d go right back to breaking.”

Your fingers laced with hers. “You wouldn’t have. Not now.”

She didn’t answer. She kissed you instead. Deep, possessive. Then her hand trailed down — slow, deliberate — and the first touch between your legs made your hips twitch under her.

“Still sensitive,” she whispered against your neck, lips curling into something dark and familiar.

You let out a shaky breath. “Still yours.”

That cracked something in her. She groaned, pulled your hips closer, her fingers sliding through wetness she didn’t even need to coax — it was already there, waiting for her. For this. Her fingers slide through your folds, just to brush her thumb over your sensitive clit, making you mewl.

She kissed your mouth again while her fingers moved with precision — two of them curling up inside you like she knew exactly how to pull you apart. Your back arched, hands gripping her shoulders, nails biting skin. Her fingers move inside you with slow deliberation. Her eyes are fixed on your cunt just sucking in her fingers like they did the last time.

“Ellie—fuck—”

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “I’ve always got you.”

She didn’t stop until your body was trembling, breath coming out in broken gasps, her name the only word left in your mouth. 

And then she kissed you again, slower this time, lingering.

The silence after was warm. Heavy. Sacred.

You curled into her chest, still catching your breath, and for the first time in months, maybe longer, it felt like you could actually exhale.

Ellie didn’t move for a while. Her breath was still ragged against your throat, her fingers laced with yours, the room echoing with the storm outside and the softer storm that had just passed between you. You could feel her heartbeat where her chest pressed into yours, fast and wild like she was still catching up.

Then, slowly, her hand slipped back down your stomach — teasing, deliberate — and her mouth followed, trailing kisses lower. She looked up at you from between your thighs, eyes dark and glassy, her lips swollen, her voice hoarse:

“I’m not done with you.”

Your breath caught. “Ellie—”

She didn’t wait. Her tongue slid through your sensitive folds , slow at first, just to feel you react. You whimpered, thighs tightening around her shoulders, but she pushed them apart again with firm hands, grounding you in place.

“You’ve been in my head for months,” she muttered into your glistening cunt. “Every fucking night, this is what I thought about.”

Her mouth latched around your clit, and you cried out — not soft, not delicate. It was a sound full of want and relief and all the nights you’d spent aching without her. She worked you with a kind of focused fury, tongue flicking, lips sucking, one hand gripping your hip tight while the other slid back inside you — two fingers curling just right.

“Ellie, please—”

She groaned at the sound of your voice breaking, pulling you even deeper onto her mouth. It was messy now, wet and obscene, her tongue relentless, and you were so close it hurt. Your hands found her hair, tugging, and she moaned against you — the vibration sending you reeling.

Your orgasm hit harder this time — not sharp, but deep. Like a wave rolling through your whole body, dragging you under. You shook beneath her, legs trembling, and she kept going through it, licking you slow and lazy now, easing you down while her eyes never left yours.

When she finally pulled back, her chin was slick, her mouth open, breathing hard. She crawled back up, kissing you deep — letting you taste yourself on her tongue — and you didn’t even care, you just wanted more of her. All of her.

“Come here,” you whispered, tugging at her shirt.

She stripped it off without breaking eye contact — tattoos and muscle and scars familiar beneath soft lighting — and the look on your face must’ve said everything, because she leaned in, pressing her forehead to yours.

“I still love you,” she said, almost too quiet to hear.

You pulled her down with a soft gasp, kissing her so hard it hurt.

Then you flipped her over.

Ellie’s breath hitched as you straddled her, dragging your nails down her chest, slow and deliberate. She wasn’t used to being the one beneath. But she let you take control — let you show her how much you'd changed, how much you'd missed her. Your mouth trailed down her neck, her chest, your tongue circling her nipple until she moaned, hips twitching up into yours.

Your voice was husky when you spoke. “I wanna make you feel everything I couldn’t say before.”

She cursed under her breath, eyes locked on you like she couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Then show me,” she said.

So you did.

You moved slow at first — kissing down her chest, letting your hands map out every inch of her skin, relearning her body like a favorite song you forgot the lyrics to. Her eyes fluttered shut when your mouth wrapped around her nipple again, your hand ghosting down her stomach.

Ellie was already squirming beneath you, fingers curling into the couch cushion. “Fuck,” she whispered, voice rough and low, “you’re really gonna make me beg, huh?”

You grinned against her skin. “Didn’t say that. But it’d be nice to hear.”

Your fingers found her, hot and already wet, and she gasped — sharp and sudden — as you slid through her folds, teasing but gentle. You leaned in close, lips brushing her ear. “I wanna hear what you sound like when you need me.”

Ellie bucked her hips, and you finally gave in — two fingers sliding deep inside her, slow at first, then harder when she moaned. Your thumb circled her clit with practiced care, and you watched her unravel for you, head thrown back, hips chasing your rhythm.

“You feel so good, Ellie. Still so fucking tight,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her throat. “You want me to ruin you a little?”

She didn’t answer right away — just groaned, biting her lip, one hand fisting in your hair. But then she looked at you, eyes wild, and smiled.

“Switch with me.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

Ellie leaned up, her mouth brushing yours. “You proved your point, baby. Now lie the fuck back.”

You barely had time to react before she flipped you, strong and fluid — straddling your hips, eyes burning with something deeper than lust. Possession. Longing. Relief.

Her hand wrapped around your throat, light enough to make you gasp, firm enough to pin you there. “You think I forgot how to fuck you stupid?”

You whimpered — whimpered — and Ellie smirked.

“That’s what I thought.”

She slid down your body, kissed a path down your chest, and then bit gently at your hip as she pulled your legs apart again. But this time, she didn’t go soft.

Her mouth was on you in seconds, rough and unrelenting, like she was trying to devour every second you’d been apart. Her tongue moved with filthy precision, her fingers back inside you fast and deep, curling hard — and you cried out, thighs trembling.

“Ellie, I—fuck—I’m close—”

She didn’t slow. If anything, she dared you to fall apart. And when you came, it was loud and messy, your body jerking, toes curling as heat flooded through you in waves. She held you through it, lips still moving even as your legs tried to close.

“Too much,” you gasped, pushing at her shoulder.

But she just grinned, that cocky little smirk that used to make you weak. “Then take it.”

And somehow, you did.

Later, when your chest was heaving and your body was limp and Ellie was half on top of you, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder, you finally broke the silence.

“Jesus.”

She laughed into your skin. “It’s Ellie, actually.”

You smacked her gently, and she caught your hand, kissed your knuckles. Then softer: “I missed this. Not just the sex. You.”

You turned to her, forehead pressed to hers again. “You have me. If you want me.”

She didn’t answer right away. But her arms around you tightened, and she whispered, “Just don’t make me take another leap unless you’re gonna catch me this time.”

You kissed her slow, deep, and let that be your promise.

[robin-evry]

Hellooo! I love your writing and was wondering if you could do Wriothesley!yuu? If you can't it's totally fine tho! I hope u have a wonderful day/night!

Thank you, and I'm happy many of you guys enjoy my writting

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐘!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🐺

Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, he was given Fontaine's highest honorary title of "Duke." Both low-profile and dependable.

Wriothesly!yuu has a calm and composed demeanor, rarely showing panic, even in chaotic NRC situations. They exude the air of someone who has seen worse and simply rolls with whatever happens.

During the start of the school year, wriothesly!yuu is always on high alert. Because this is an unknown area not to mention with people who are able to utilize magic with ease.

Their strategy is to stay low but it was proven impossible when your friends with grim, for some reason he possessed a knack for causing trouble anywhere he goes which annoys them a little.

Wriothesly!yuu have a strong sense of justice but aren’t naive. They understand that the world isn’t black and white and will make morally gray decisions if necessary. Although they prefer negotiating over violence some people really wanna push their boundaries. Wriothesly!yuu when seeing someone having trouble would lend a hand and if this someone is having trouble by a group of students, Wriothesly!yuu would rescue them. And that's how they met epel.

By far described to be one of the students who have experience in fighting or hand to hand combat, even tho their strength and reputation wriothesly!yuu is pretty chill and down to earth. Have a dried sense of humor so people would have to guess whether or not they're joking or not.

For some reason wriothesly!yuu exodes an aura of authority, most students when they walk pass is on their best behavior scared of what happened when they break the rules Infront of them

Many savanaclaw students challenge them on arm wrestling and they win, and when it's their time against Leona it was soon cut short due to grim needing help from them so it's still a mystery who's much stronger wriothesly!yuu or Leona.

Ramshackle has a personal gym for wriothesly!yuu, they can always be seen working out and grim would usually call them a gym rat due to how much they work out.

Every time before school they would work out and jog, then shower and get ready for the day. Would join morning jogs with vil and jack.

Tea 24/7 all day. Many of the students started to believe they maybe a wealthy Aristocrat due to their excellent manners that vil even approved, not to mention when wriothesly!yuu is near the first years they are on their best behavior for no apparent reason. As if when they were there many are on their best behavior due to being afraid even tho wriothesly!yuu seems to be laid back and chill person.

Crewel once gave them detention. Wriothesly!yuu cleaned the entire lab to perfection and then calmly offered him tea afterward. Crewel never gave them detention again he just consulted them now. You know every time when professor trein or crewel have to leave for some small business outside of class they are usually told wriothesly!yuu they are in charge until they are back and when the professor is back the class is doing their work. Impressive

Crowley treats him like an unpaid vice-principal. “Wriothesley!Yuu, be a dear and handle the dorm crisis while I’m… indisposed.” honestly the entire school has more respect for wriothesly! Yuu more than him.

[romanofftherealest]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 6: Act One | 6.4k

Summary: Everything is starting to change between you and Natasha. And some past of you are starting to resurface.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: +18 angst, fluff, implied (panic attack, jealousy, and trauma), toddler innocently triggering an adults' trauma, breastfeeding, kissing, mention of giving a blowjob, implied cheating (but no cheating happened in this chapter)

Author's Note: Reposting. This series has now become a commissioned work.

⧗

Yelena was sitting in the passenger seat, rolling her eyes as Natasha drove. "You know what's really pathetic? You still don't have Y/N's number saved in your phone," she scolds. "How did you not think to at least save her number?!"

Natasha had always thought that since she lived in the same house with you and she would never need your number, so why bother? Besides, she doesn't want to receive any phone calls or texts from you, unless it's all about Aliah—well, maybe that was before she thinks. You actually had her number, her work number not the personal one that you got from her sister.

"How the hell are we supposed to find them now?" Yelena hisses urgently through clenched teeth as she continues to scroll on her own phone call logs remembering you had called her once.

Melina had called a surprise dinner with the whole family that's why Natasha and Yelena are desperately trying to hunt you and Aliah. They only have one piece of information from Rick who told them that Ali had a playdate, and you were picked up together earlier this morning and you told him that you will be back before evening.

"Wait...I think this is her number!" Yelena pulls out her phone, scrolling through her contacts. Natasha tries to peek over her shoulder, but the blonde rolls her eyes and turns the screen away. "All eyes on the road." Then she quickly dialed the number, her voice came through the speaker, her tone slightly more controlled but still urgent, "Hey, Y/N, where are you? Mama called us about having dinner and it's in one and a half hours."

"O-oh, Yelena? Is this you?" you had to make sure since the number is unknown on your phone. "We are in Aliah's friends' house, they are having some playdate."

"Yes, yes this is me. Can we pick you up there right now?" Yelena rushes out.

You hesitate for a second, thinking about how you'll have to stop your child from playing. "Okay, uhm I'll just send my location, Yelena. I'll end the call now and have Aliah prepared."

Yelena keeps her phone to her ear for a moment longer, listening. Suddenly, she hears a deep voice on the other end, asking, "C'mere, who was that?" followed by some humming.

Natasha, who was driving, also hears the familiar voice. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, and a frown forms on her face. She grabs her sister's phone and puts it on speaker, "Y/N?"

"Nat?" You call hesitantly, confusion etched on your face.

"Hey…we're on our way there now." Natasha didn't know why she had to say this to you on the call. If she wanted the other woman you are with to hear her or for you to shift your focus on her from that other woman. She slightly cringed herself but fuck it.

Uhm? Okay? You thought. You're caught off guard, well, you didn't ask for her. Out of shock, you mumble, "Uhm, okay. Take care." Before ending the call immediately.

Natasha's irritation grows as she notices her sister trying to cover up the sound of her laughter, but a small giggle escapes anyways. She shoots her a glare, "The fuck is wrong with you?!"

Yelena bites her lip, trying to hold a giggle. "Nothing...nothing," she coughs again, taking her phone from her driving sister, clearly composing herself. "Nothing."

"Suka." (Bitch)

"You trying to get her attention from whoever that deep voiced woman is? Not gonna lie I was kind of intrigued too—" Before she can finish, Natasha hits the brakes hard purposely, making Yelena jolt forward suddenly, almost sending her into the dashboard. "Ow! Bitch!" Yelena shouts, rubbing her forehead.

Natasha only huffed satisfyingly as she continued to drive. "Can you uhm…can you put her number on my phone?"

"Nope, you get it yourself." Yelena says, leaving no room for argument. She immediately puts her phone away in case her sister will plan on snatching it from her.

As Natasha parks the car on the location you sent, you and Ali come into view. Yelena notices you standing beside a tall blonde short-haired woman. Her eyes squinted as she saw the woman carrying what appears to be her passed-out little niece. Before she could nudge Natasha, she was already opening her own door to match towards you.

You see Natasha approaching and an awkward stiffness overtakes you. Her face remains impassive, unreadable. And when you realized she's walking in your direction, you swallowed a lump on your throat and before you knew it, unexpectedly, she leaned in and kissed your cheek softly.

"Hey." Natasha's hand settles on your waist possessively.

"Hey." You find yourself repeating her greeting, sounding rather dumb in the process. Her touch sends electric shocks through you, making your thoughts jumbled. And the kiss? What was that for?!

Then, she reaches out and gently takes her daughter from the blonde woman's arms. "I've got her." She said more to herself than to the woman in front of her. She didn't even glance at her and just effortlessly scoop up the passed-out Aliah like she weighs nothing. She tucks her small body against her chest, making Aliah's red curls bounce slightly.

"She conked out during the movie," you say rather awkwardly, helping Natasha get your daughter comfortable in her arms. You were so overwhelmed and giddy with the attention she is giving you that you craved for more.

"I see. Let's go?"

"Wait," you went back to Carol to get your daughter's small backpack filled with toys, then Natasha watched unblinkingly as Carol pulled you into a not-too-tight hug, that you almost stumbled to your feet, your cheeks slightly pressing each other.

"Coffee next week?" Carol asks quietly.

You laugh softly, "I don't drink coffee."

"Right, only chocolate drink." The blonde smirks.

Natasha's eyes drop to where your bodies are pressed together, her expression unreadable. As your eyes meet hers, she gives you a subtle, almost imperceptible nod before gently urging you towards the car with a light touch on your lower back. "Let's go," she says softly, her voice carrying a hint of command. "It's getting late."

"Oh Nat, this is Carol. Carol, Nat."

Her wife, Natasha could only add in her mind.

"Hi." Carol extends her hand while Natasha was contemplating. She doesn't care about who this woman might be but she has no choice now that you just introduced her.

And she definitely didn't care that you didn't introduce her as your wife.

Natasha didn't say a word but she reached the blonde's hand only to take it in a matter of seconds. And you were oblivious with the tension between the two.

"Bye, Carol. Thank you again."

"Always welcome, be safe."

You make sure you're safe as well, Natasha thought but she immediately dismissed the thought that came after that. Only for the respect that she is carrying her daughter.

Natasha buckles Liah into her car seat, adjusting the straps to ensure her daughter's comfort and safety. As she does this, Yelena leans against the car, chatting animatedly with you. "You sure you have everything?"

You slide into the passenger seat, your blouse riding up briefly as you settle in. "Yes, all set," you reply to Yelena with a smile. "Where do we meet your mom?"

"The Italian place downtown," Natasha answers.

The drive to the on the way is silent since you have your daughter sleeping inside the car with you. You and Natasha occasionally glances at the rearview mirror to check on Liah even though you both know that her auntie Yelena is right there beside her.

"Can I have your phone number?" Natasha asks casually, keeping her eyes on the road. She holds out her phone to you, "Mind putting it in for me?"

Are you hearing all of this right?

You take her device carefully and hesitantly, like it might burn you. You tapped the screen, her wallpaper reveals a beautiful picture of your daughter smiling brightly. It's a recent photo, you guessed that maybe she'd taken it during one of her playdates with her.

"Uh-uhm, t-the password." You stuttered.

Natasha reached on her phone, her thumb unlocking her phone. Now she's back on driving, you're suddenly conscious of every small movement. You open her contacts, your mind blanking on what to save yourself as, so you put your number first.

Unknown to you is the blonde watching behind, she can see what you were doing on the phone—typing. When you finished putting your number on she immediately snatched her sister's phone from your grasp, catching you and Natasha who was driving off guard.

"Got it Y/N." She grins, typing 'Wife❤️' as your contact name. Then, she quickly opens the camera and snaps a photo, capturing an angle of you in the passenger seat that you were completely unaware of, she immediately sets the photo as Natasha's new home screen wallpaper, "I'll keep your phone for now, Nat since…you're driving."

Natasha shoots Yelena a deadly glare in the rearview mirror, her gaze sharp enough to cut steel.

The sound of a small sleepy voice breaks through the tension in the car. The three of you fall silent and stiff. Yelena didn't move an inch while Natasha was tight-lipped as she drived. But clearly, Aliah is awake now, she starts to move around, her little legs kicking and her hands clutching at the seatbelt of her seat that's still wrapped around her. Yelena starts to unbuckle her and she immediately starts squirming and protesting.

"No, Aunt Yeye!" she cries out, stretching her arms towards you instead. "Mommy!"

Your heart swells with love at the sight of your daughter reaching out for you. You quickly unbuckle your own seatbelt and turn around, scooping Aliah up into your arms. She snuggles immediately into your chest, her small hands grasping at your blouse.

"Mama picked us up, baby. Can you kiss mama?" you whisper softly, ruffling her hair slightly.

"Excuse me? I'm here too? Aunt Yeye?" Yelena huffs.

Instead of responding, Aliah whines quietly and burying her face deeper into your chest, her body language clearly stating she's still cranky, ignoring her mama and what you said completely including her aunt Yeye's whining. So you started cooing her, trying to see if she would be back to sleep. Her small hands fisting your blouse as she listens to the gentle hum you make. While the siblings tried their best to stay quiet.

"Boobie," she mumbles sleepily, then louder, "Boobie milk!" she starts to nuzzle harder on your cleavage, making grabbing motions with her small hands.

Natasha's eyes widen, her cheeks immediately flushing a deep red at her daughter's loud demand. She blinks rapidly, trying to focus on the road ahead while also stealing glances at the scene beside her.

"Aliah, we talked about this sweetheart. No more boobie milk, remember? You're a big girl now." Your voice is firm but still gentle, not wanting to turn her whining for boobie milk into a full-rage tantrum.

"You're still breastfeeding her?" Natasha's voice comes out hesitant but worried and a little shy. She didn't know why she asked either, out of curiosity or she just wanted to talk to you?

"Sometimes she'll wake up in the middle of the night and climb onto my chest," you laugh as you answer shyly, "Before I know it, she's already latching on again." You realize you're practically whispering, like you're sharing a secret.

Aliah's tantrum escalates rapidly as she feels ignored. She starts stomping her tiny feet against the car door, her cries escalating to screaming demands for your boobie milk. You swiftly intervene, firmly grasping her ankles to stop the stomping.

"Aliah…" It should be a warning on your daughter but clearly she is now transitioning to that full-blown tantrum and you have no choice but to give what she wants. "Can...can I?" you timidly ask Natasha, your cheeks are already pink. Knowing exactly what you're asking, Natasha swallows hard, catching your innocent expression. She nods eagerly, almost dumbfoundedly.

"Yes," she croaks, her voice lower than usual. "Go ahead."

Without hesitation, you swiftly unbutton the front of your blouse exposing one of your full, milky-looking breasts. In a blink, Aliah is already latching on hungrily, her tiny body quivering with relief and satisfaction as she starts to suckle greedily. Natasha's hands tighten around the steering wheel as she fights the urge to look at you. Her eyes flicker towards the side, catching a glimpse of your exposed breast and Aliah's contented sucking before she quickly looks away, her face burning with embarrassment.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Natasha." Yelena scolds mischievously as she sees her sister's struggle through the rear view mirror. She mouthed a voiceless pervert on the mirror and Natasha cannot do anything but glare at her.

She tries her best not to steal glances, telling herself she's not being perverted. But seeing you like this is almost too much. You're cradling Aliah protectively, your blouse slipped off one shoulder, your hair slightly parts to reveal your skin of motherhood. Her mind drifts back to your pregnancy—where she could've been there for you…if things were different way back.

If it was her you chose to be with…

Or if she had fought for you…

She can't recall the last time she saw you, the image is blurry in her memory. She remembered a lot of crying. But she can't remember the confrontations and the moment that led to Aliah. It's all a haze.

More and more questions lingered in her mind. Did Steve take good care of you when you were pregnant? How did it end between the two of you? Was it mutual? Did he ever suspect that Aliah wasn't his? Did he see the signs and just walked away, or was there a confrontation? Why did you move states away? Was it because of him? Did you run?

She doesn't want to imagine all of it—she hated it. But the thought that she could've had the chance to hold your growing belly, steal kisses on your swollen belly button, gentle caresses of your changing body. She feels a pang of regret, longing and hatred…realizing just how much she missed the opportunities.

Now she cannot deny it anymore.

Her heart aches as she allows herself to fully entertain the thought.

Things could've been different.

She could've been there.

But it was different.

And she wasn't there.

Your little one finally removed her mouth to your nipple and now started playing with your hair. "You full now young lady?" you huff playfully, tickling her side.

"Ya!" Aliah giggles with that cute little voice of hers.

You pull your blouse up and adjust your bra, making sure your breast are covered again. You catch your daughter watching you intently. "Mommy?" she asks sweetly. "Where did milk go?" she wrinkles her nose, making you laugh. You catch Natasha's gaze and as you both look at each other, you feel your face heating up like a tomato, the warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your ears. You quickly look away, pretending to fuss with your blouse buttons to hide your flushed face.

As if she didn't undress and latch your boob couple of weeks ago.

"Mama's already here." Yelena says as she helps you get out of the car, carrying Aliah, wishing that her niece wouldn't tantrum. Meanwhile, Natasha parks the car.

The aroma of fresh garlic and tomatoes fills the air as you step into the cozy Italian restaurant for the first time. Aliah clings to her auntie, curious about the new surroundings. And there you saw Melina waving to your direction over to the table she reserved, already seated and waiting.

"Hi 'ma. Yelena greets her with a warm hug and a kiss, before leaning down to speak to your daughter. "Aliah, kiss babushka hello."

"My sweet angel!" Melina coos. Aliah tilts her head up to plant a tiny, wet kiss on her babushka's cheek. She took Aliah on her lap and you walked over and greeted her with a warm hug. "Where's Natasha?" she asks you.

As you were about to answer her, there was a hand that touched your lower back like it belonged there.

"Hey mama," Natasha greets, placing a kiss on her mother's cheek.

"Where's your wedding ring?" Melina immediately noticed the absence of Natasha's ring.

"I think I must've left it when I was in the shower." She straight up lied.

"Yeah, I think you did." You covered up for her. Yelena could only roll her eyes to the both of you, knowing that you are two lying.

Natasha suddenly pulls out your chair before you could do it, her action catching you off guard—a small thank you for covering up for her. You're momentarily stunned by the unexpected gentlemanly gesture, but quickly composed yourself.

She has been surprising you a lot today.

"Thanks."

"Y/N is there any way I can meet your parents?"

Can you just…seat first for the love of God?

Your heart suddenly pounds in your chest as the question hits you like an attack. You've never talked about your parents, your dad, a bit, but your mother?

"My father died when I was a kid," you say quietly, keeping your gaze fixed on the tablecloth. "As for my mom...I-uhm we're not on speaking terms anymore." Your voice carries a slight tremor that Natasha picks up on.

The second one is a fact Natasha didn't know of. She recalls the stories you had told her when you two were in college. She remembers hearing about your father, a hardworking man who loved you dearly but you weren't able to have much time with since he died before you could even go to preschool. And about your mother, a strict and traditional woman who expected a lot from you. She had talked to your mother during graduation and that was it. What could be the reason you don't talk to her anymore? Or maybe it was her not speaking to you anymore?

Melina smiled warmly and empathetically to you. She reached out and gently squeezed your hand, offering a silent reassurance without pressuring you to share more than you were comfortable with. "You have us now, sweetheart."

"Noona make scary sounds." Aliah suddenly mumbled. "And mommy cries."

"Aliah." You glance sharply at your daughter, silencing her with just her name. Immediately, she stops talking, her lips pressing together tightly.

The revelation from Aliah's memory doesn't go unheard by the three. Melina's eyes slightly widen in shock, while Yelena's face turns awkward. Natasha's expression turns guarded as she processes the implications of what her daughter just said. It only added to the unanswered questions in her mind. They understood what Aliah had just said and meant and they knew better than to press further.

"It's…it's a long time now, you know." You say, dismissing the topic with a faint smile.

Despite the initial unease from the earlier conversation, the dinner had unfolded relatively smoothly. However, that lingering awkwardness remained, a subtle undercurrent that hovered around your reserved table.

Your daughter has been unusually silent, keeping her head down while her babushka feeds her—she hasn't looked at you since your earlier scolding. You made a mental note to talk to her at home later.

Kids are honest, their innocence shining through in everything they say. Aliah, your daughter, had just demonstrated this once again, blurting out something that she had overheard and this isn't the only time she did this, she had done this a couple of times now.

It's not that it's wrong for your daughter to be honest and unfilter her words, but you couldn't help but feel concerned about the sensitive and vulnerable things she had been innocently revealing, especially that it is all about you. As a parent, it was your duty to guide her all while protecting her young, innocent ears and heart from the harsh realities you had grown too familiar with. But now you're not sure if you did, you were surprised too that she had retained those memories and understood what was happening back then when she was so young.

Before you got outside, you all gathered near the door, bidding each other a final farewell. Melina wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, her action an unspoken reassurance, conveying a message that words could not capture. You didn't ask for an explanation though, but you understood the intent behind her hug to you.

"We're family now, we are your family now. You are safe." She says, cupping your cheek. You fought back your tears and just felt the embrace of a mother you hadn't felt for so long.

Meanwhile, your daughter immediately went to Natasha, her small hand holding onto her tightly, grasping it as if her life depended on it. She really is avoiding you.

As the drive home began, Natasha attempted to initiate a conversation with her daughter. She inquired about her playdate and asked if she felt full after dinner, trying to bridge the silence that hung in the air. However, you remained silent, Aliah responded to her mother's attempts at conversation with a short but respectful tone. Natasha noticed the shift in her daughter's behavior but refrained from pushing further.

You gathered your belongings and got out of the car, your daughter is already hiding behind Natasha as she gives the car key to the butler.

"I'll put her to sleep."

"I want Mama to put me to sleep," the words spilled out of your daughter's lips. She looked up at Natasha, her grip on her hand tightening as she repeated, "Mama put me to sleep." It was a request, a demand, and a plea all wrapped into one, the fear and uncertainty reflecting in her eyes.

Natasha was left torn, her expression conflicted as she wrestled with her indecision. But deep inside she knew better to go against you, though she tries to hide it, she's kind of scared of you right now. "Mama got some things to do, bub so you go with mommy okay?"

Aliah pouted and whined a little but accepted. You followed her as she walked to her room. You helped her clean up and change into her pajamas, your movements gentle and unhurried as you tended to her needs. The tension from before had lessened, a small sense of normality seeping in, albeit fragile.

After she was changed and ready for sleep, you called out to her, patting the edge of her bed and inviting her to sit.

You never wanted your daughter to fear you. You didn't want her to experience the fear and pain that you had faced in your own upbringing. When she came to your life you were determined to give her a different life than the one you had experienced, one free from the fear and anguish that lingered in your own memories. And the last thing you wanted was for her to feel the fear that came with being around a difficult mother, just as you had.

"Do I do something bad, mommy? Do I make you hurt?" she was close to tears, sensing she had done something wrong but unable to pinpoint exactly what it was. Because she knew you too well, and she could sense the smallest change in your demeanor, even if you tried to hide it. She knows when you're upset, she knows when you're hurt. She feels everything you feel, her intuition keen and attuned to your emotions.

You gently shook your head, taking her small hand in yours and reassures her, "No, baby, you didn't." You struggled to find the right words, knowing how to explain the concept of boundaries when it comes to sharing personal things to your almost 4-year-old child.

"You know, we always share the truth, right? We don't lie," you began, your tone soft yet firm. "But sometimes, we need to keep things hidden, you understand?" Your fingers gently squeezed her small hand, hoping she would comprehend the importance of what you are telling her. "Like…earlier you shared something ab-about noona, you don't need to share it with others, you know? Yes, we may tell the truth, because they happened in reality, but that doesn't mean others need to know about it. It's important to know the difference between what to share and what to keep to ourselves."

She nodded, then, her small hand found its way to your shoulder, her touch moving past your blouse and strap bra. Her fingers traced over the scar that marked your skin. Memories flooded your mind, the pain of your past rushing back in an instant again. You don't know how you got it, but when your mother threw you away from your home after she lashed out emotionally and physically at you, you immediately felt the stinging pain on your shoulder as you carried your daughter and your heavy baggages in the middle of the rain.

"Do you…do you remember noona?" you couldn't help but ask especially with what your daughter had shared during dinner. You didn't know that her brain would retain those painful memories you thought she wouldn't, because she was just a little.

Aliah nodded, her face solemn and her eyes filled with sadness. "She makes scary sounds and you cry. She throws…" she threw her little hand to mimic the scenario, "And you cry…she's not like mama's mommy bab'shka." She continued. Her words and actions painted a vivid picture of a past you had hoped to forget.

You tried to shield her away from it but you failed.

As the tear slid down your cheek, Aliah sobbed hard, her innocent tears a reflection of your own.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." She didn't understand the reasons behind your apology.

But you are sorry you failed her—you failed to protect her.

Unbeknownst to you Natasha has been standing at the door, silently watching the scene unfold before her. She had frozen in her spot, her heart heavy as she watched you and your daughter cry your eyes out. She then closed the door carefully to not bother.

You sat at the edge of her bed, gently stroking her hair as she snuggled up in your embrace. The room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft sound of your breathing. You hummed a lullaby, singing softly as she closed her eyes, her grip on you loosening as she slowly drifted into sleep.

"I love you, my Iyah."

Natasha had silently watched you go out of Aliah's room, when she's sure you were on your way to the bedroom she made her way to your daughter's room. She quietly opened the door and entered, her eyes taking in Aliah's sleeping form. She tiptoed to her bedside and gently bent down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. She lingered there for a moment, watching the small rise and fall of the child's chest as she slept.

"Mama?" Aliah stirred in her sleep, her eyes partially opening as she mumbled softly.

"Hey, tiger," Natasha said softly, gently stroking Aliah's hair. "It's time to go to sleep now."

"Mama, you won't leave us, wight?" The question caught Natasha off guard but she quickly reassured her that she wouldn't even think of it.

"Wouldn't think about it, bub."

"You always potect mommy, wight?" Natasha's expression faltered for a moment, her hesitation and guilt seeping through. She knew damn well how she has been treating you, she didn't want to lie to her daughter either, it's just that the truth is so complicated.

She could feel a mix of emotions bubbling up inside her, creating a tangled mess that she struggled to make sense of. On one hand, there was the desire to protect you and hide you from the world, but at the same time, she couldn't shake off the lingering feeling of anger and pain from the past. To get revenge, to get back at you and she thinks she's doing it really, really well.

But now she felt lost, stuck in the middle of that complicated situation, unable to fully embrace one side without disregarding the other.

"Yes," she finally said, her voice firm despite the slight tremble in her tone. "Of course, I will protect mommy. You don't have to worry about that, okay?"

"You not gonna make mommy cry? Mommy cry a lot, mean people make mommy cry. I don't want her to cry any'ore." She pouts, crocodile tears in her little eyes. "You're big mama, you can portect mommy so she will not cry."

"Not gonna make mommy cry." Natasha repeated as if she's on oath.

"You not hurt mommy."

"I will not hurt mommy." But she just did.

"You kiss mommy tonight."

"I will kiss momm—" she seriously started to lean in her daughter's direction, only to stop herself at the last moment. Her words halted, her eyes locked on her daughter's gaze who was staring right back at her, waiting for her to repeat the words. "I will kiss mommy tonight."

"You will love mommy?"

"I will love mommy." Will she?

Aliah giggled softly, her eyes twinkling with affection as she pinky promised to Natasha, her small pinky tangling with her mama. "Good night, Mama," she planted a soft kiss on Natasha's lips. "I love you," she added, her small hands reaching up to wrap her in a tight hug.

Natasha gently closed the door to Aliah's room as she finally fell into a peaceful sleep. As she walks down the hallway, her footsteps are quiet and deliberate. She pauses outside the door to the bedroom—a room that once belonged solely to her but upon the suspicions of her mother, she now shares it with you. The night after Melina's surprise visit, Yelena made sure Natasha had moved your stuff to hers. But you have never yet to sleep in her room, you always make your way out and sleep in your daughter's instead. Natasha didn't dare to question it, you even thought that you are doing her a favor for it because you know…you feel like she cannot stand to be in the same room as you. So, you just painted that illusion together even without knowing it, that you two actually share the same bed but really, not.

"Hi." You turn to Natasha, with a faint smile on your lips as she peeks to the bathroom. You've changed into a nightgown, and the soft light catches the scar on your shoulder—the one she saw Aliah was caressing moments ago.

"Where'd you get that?" Natasha couldn't hold herself now and asked.

"The what?" you ask confusingly as you wipe your face off with wet cotton pads.

Natasha gestured to her shoulder, "The-the scar."

"Oh…well, just from a shattered piece of vase." You dismisses. "I actually didn't realize it was that deep until it stung when it got wet in the rain."

Natasha listens intently, her expression a mix of empathy and something else—something she's trying hard to suppress. She wants to know more about what you really went through. Yet, at the same time, she doesn't want to care too deeply. She doesn't want to care at all. At least that's what she pretended to.

"I'll be done in a minute and I'll go back to Aliah's room."

"You can sleep here…if you want." More like you can sleep here because that's what I want.

It was an obvious invitation, very nice of her, but you simply smile faintly again at her offer, then slowly shake your head from side to side.

Natasha moves slightly away from the bathroom door and removes her outer clothes, revealing her body in just a sports bra. She went back to the opening of the bathroom and she leaned there as if she's waiting for you to finish—displaying her almost naked self. Her arms are crossed over her chest, emphasizing her muscular arms.

You smile tightly despite your exhaustion and the unshed tears in your fatigued eyes as you make your way out of her bathroom, you didn't even realize that four packs displayed in front of you. You're too emotional and vulnerable to even notice her antics.

And well, Natasha suddenly realized that and her earlier bravado fades and is now replaced by guilt.

God, she just wanted to kiss you. Because she promised her daughter…that she will. She's only doing it because her daughter made her promise. Well, she wouldn't even know if she didn't right?

You are now reaching the door of her bedroom and Natasha doesn't know why she is having an internal panic. You're really not sleeping in her bedroom, you're actually declining her offer—an offer she thought was too obvious for you to refuse.

"Hey," your hand pauses on the doorknob as she calls out to you. Natasha's voice is soft, almost pleading, as she speaks.

You turned around, eyes tired, your hair framing your face. Arms covering your chest since you're not wearing any bra.

Despite your tiredness, there's a certain vulnerability and beauty about you that she can't ignore. And she hated herself that she even thought about that.

"Yeah?" you asked, Natasha opens her mouth to speak but no words came out. She stares at you, dumbstruck. She swallows hard, her mind racing with unspoken words and unsaid feelings—wait, there are unspoken words and unsaid feelings?!

"Nat, I really enjoyed this day. Thank you." Your voice is sincere, and your smile never falters as you continue just to fill that awkward silence between the two of you. Maybe you're just being overwhelmed, some might say you're being dumb falling for the antics of your said wife, her being so distant and cold towards you to being caring, a little bit touchy which you really liked, that all happened in just a day.

She had surprised you with the attention she has been giving you and you loved every bit of it. Never questioned any of it.

You didn't know how it happened either. You were surprised as well when you reached to her and pressed a kiss on her cheek mimicking the one she did with you hours ago, before disappearing, leaving Natasha dumb and surprised in her own room.

Well, she guessed she failed to do one of the oaths she had with her daughter moments ago.

⧗

Natasha sits at her desk the following morning, surrounded by the usual stack of paperworks and the same company contracts that she needs to sign for, but it seems like these are the last thing on her mind right now. Boy, she was restless, the leather seat creaking softly beneath her as she swiveled back and forth. Her gaze is fixed on the ceiling as she thinks of what happened last night even though nothing really happened between the two of you. Well, something happened, you kissed her. It was a very harmless kiss but good Lord, it has been plaguing her mind.

Her heart almost drops in panic as the door to her office creaks open and Claire steps inside. Her heart races as she quickly glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot. "What are you doing here?" Natasha hisses, her voice low and urgent, trying to keep her composure.

"You know what? You never react like that when I show up at your office. Like someone stuck a rod up your ass," she says bluntly. "What's got you tense, Tasha? Whatchu been doing?"

"I didn't call you, get out!" Natasha keeps on looking at the door as if someone will catch them both together in her office.

Well, is there something to catch?

"That's exactly why I'm here," she purrs. "You haven't called for weeks. I miss our little...meetings. I figured I'd stop by and check you myself." Natasha stiffens visibly as Claire makes her way over, beginning to massage her shoulders with her new manicured fingers. She frowns, barely suppressing a flinch at the unexpected contact.

Without missing a beat, Claire's hand reaches down and grabs a prominent bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha immediately jerks away, her face twisting into a scowl. "Get out," she growls, her voice cold and menacing.

"Damn, not even a blowjob?" she was offended but was able to hide it with a chilling smirk, she leaned back against Natasha's desk with a suggestive tilt of her hips. "You used to love my mouth on you, Tasha. What happened to that insatiable woman who couldn't get enough? Is it because your sister saw us?"

Natasha lets out a frustrated breath, her shoulders slumping slightly as she cringes internally at the memory. She started to feel guilty, ashamed even, not because her sister witnessed her clandestine meetings…but because of what happened between the two of you again—she may be drunk that time but she can still feel her lips as it hover on your skin. And that's the reason she stopped calling her for some meetings.

"It's not just Yelena who saw us, did she?"

"I don't know."

Claire shakes her head, letting out a rueful chuckle. "You know, I should've called it quits when you first told me you got married. But no, dumb me, I kept answering your calls every time, even during your marriage. Well not until these past few weeks, you've changed…"

"The night I asked you to come over to my house and Yelena caught us…something happened to us." Natasha admitted.

"You and Y/N?"

"Yeah."

"Is it the guilt?" Claire suddenly asks, tilting her head slightly as she gauges Natasha's reaction.

"I…huh?" Natasha blinks, genuinely confused.

"Or is it because you still love Y/N deeply or both like…the guilt because you still love her?"

"You will love mommy?"

"I will love mommy."

Natasha's mind races, trying to untangle the knots of her emotions. Love? You? No, that couldn't be right. She feels a sharp pang in her chest, it's not love. If not, then did she just lie to her daughter? Fuck she's not sure—but she feels something more painful.

Anger. Betrayal. Hurt.

But love?

"Maybe it's buried deep." Claire says with a casual shrug as if she can read what Natasha has been thinking. She walked her way to the seat in front of her desk. "I was your friend first, Nat before you know…we agreed to this set up. I may not know ins and outs between you and Y/N, but I don't know…" she trails off, trying to find the right words to tell Natasha, "Maybe you're angry…guilty, gosh I think we both feel that right now." She chuckles, guiltily. "But under all that…it's there, you know? It never went away, it never disappeared, it has always been there. It's just buried deep."

Natasha sits in silence, her eyes glazed over as she stares at nothing in particular. Her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but none of them seem to form into anything coherent. She doesn't know what to say, what to think, or how to feel.

"You did moan her name when I was giving you a blowjob. You may not be aware of it but…yeah, it happened countless times."

She did?

Claire chuckles as she sees Natasha finally reacting, blinking rapidly at what she said, pulling her out of her own thoughts. She was embarrassed. But still, Claire didn't push her to speak or say something. "But c'mon, Natasha. I know you know what you're doing, names you're moaning, words you're saying...and what you're feeling." Claire continues, emphasizing each word. "It's just somewhere…there." She pointed at the chest of Natasha, pressing her point finger firmly. "You know, your silence is making me think I am giving very, very good advice." The redhead says with so much pride and ego and it made Natasha finally crack a smile, she still didn't speak but it was something.

"I…I don't know, Claire." Natasha says defeatedly, she seems genuinely adrift. Lost in the waters, unable to navigate its current.

"You know, Natasha. You do. It's here," Claire pointed at her own chest now, clicking it like a button over and over. "Just…just find it and when you did, feel it, let it in again."

Natasha is now alone in her office. Claire is long gone, the two had agreed to not see each other again only if it's about real business meetings and events.

"They said they know you personally? Mr. Steve Rogers? Vice-president of Stark Industries?"

She leans back in her leather chair, her brow furrowing as she listens to her assistant's update about some urgent business partnership. Goodness, every company thinks they're the biggest deal of the century. She taps her fingers impatiently on the polished mahogany desk.

"Seriously? Are they dumb or something? It's not rocket science to direct their request through the proper channels. Who do they think they are? Is the world gonna end if I didn't immediately allow it?"

[astrow0rldx]

PAC TAROT: Shadow Work

Piles read left to right. Really use your intuition for which one calls to you to read. This Reading will be a little different, because it's ai generated. But hear me out, it's extremely accurate. I pull the tarot cards, and questions and it makes a story using automatic creative writing skills. In the story format it should help understand better.

Pile One

You present yourself as someone grounded and nurturing, someone who has it all together—capable, reliable, and a provider of stability. You wear this mask of self-sufficiency with grace, offering support and care to those around you. There’s a warmth to how you handle life, as if you’re always the one others can lean on. Yet, beneath this persona, there’s a quiet dissatisfaction, an emotional numbness that you don’t let others see. You feel disconnected, like something essential is missing, but you avoid acknowledging it, preferring to maintain the image of having everything under control.

Deep down, there’s a fear of rejection and abandonment that colors how you see yourself and your place in the world. This fear stems from past experiences where you felt left out or unworthy, perhaps from moments when you reached out for support and were met with coldness or lack. That sense of being shut out has led you to withdraw emotionally, burying your desires and vulnerabilities under layers of self-protection. However, this hidden wound shapes how you move through the world—it keeps you from fully expressing the vibrant, fiery side of yourself, the part of you that is bold, passionate, and fearless. While you project strength, this shadow lingers in the background, holding you back from fully owning your power.

Your shadow comes to the surface when you’re confronted by people or situations that reflect confidence and control, especially when they embody traits you’ve repressed. These encounters stir something inside you, triggering internal conflict as your shadow self clashes with the persona you’ve carefully built. The lesson in this struggle is to reconnect with your emotional core, to allow yourself to feel deeply and openly once again. Healing comes through embracing the tension, acknowledging that inner battles are a part of your growth. By working through this, you’ll move toward a more patient and nurturing relationship with yourself, where you invest in long-term growth and understand that healing is a process—one that requires steady effort and care.

Pile Two

She finds herself in a state of suspension, caught between holding onto control and surrendering to the unknown. Outwardly, she appears strong, composed, and authoritative, someone who takes charge with ease and thrives in an orderly world. She presents herself as the one in control, the one who always knows what to do. However, beneath this confident exterior, she’s struggling with uncertainty. She feels stuck, as if the answers she’s searching for are just out of reach, and in order to find them, she knows she must let go of the rigid expectations she’s placed on herself. She wears the mask of authority, but behind it, she is deeply uncertain, torn between what she knows and what she longs to discover.

At her core, she craves connection—a relationship where she can feel deeply understood and loved. There's a romantic within her, yearning for a bond that feels effortless and sincere, as if she’s waiting for that perfect emotional partnership. But she’s haunted by past disappointments, memories of love that didn’t turn out the way she hoped. This loss lingers, making her cautious about trusting her heart again. She often revisits those past moments of grief, wondering what went wrong and fearing that opening herself up to love again will lead to more heartbreak. As much as she wants love, the weight of her emotional past makes her guard her feelings, holding back from diving fully into new connections.

Her fears and vulnerabilities surface when emotions become overwhelming, or when she’s faced with situations that push her to move too fast. In those moments, she becomes protective, holding onto her feelings and resources tightly, afraid of losing control or being vulnerable. Her instinct is to cling to what she knows, but there’s also a deeper truth: her dreams and fantasies about what could be are not just idle thoughts. They reflect her true desires, the part of her that longs to break free from her hesitation and embrace all the possibilities that life offers. To heal, she needs to release the fear of losing control, to trust that even if things are uncertain, the journey ahead is rich with opportunities—ones she’s fully capable of seizing, if only she lets go.

Pile Three

She is moving through a period of transition, quietly distancing herself from past conflicts and emotional turbulence. Her journey, both literal and metaphorical, is one of seeking peace and clarity after enduring a storm. On the outside, she may seem calm, as though she’s finally found her direction, but the waters behind her are still unsettled. Internally, she is recovering from struggles, possibly with others or even within herself. The tension and discord she’s left behind still echo in her thoughts, making it difficult for her to fully let go. While she appears to be progressing, there is a quiet battle inside her, as if she’s constantly bracing for the next challenge.

Her internal struggle centers on patience and the need to balance her desires with the reality of what she’s building. She has invested time and energy into something—perhaps a relationship, a career, or personal growth—and now she waits, unsure of the outcome. There's a restlessness beneath her calm exterior, a feeling of competition, either with herself or with others. She yearns for stability and celebration, for a moment when she can finally relax and feel secure, but she is deeply aware that the foundation she’s working on still needs time to solidify. Emotionally, she is tied to the idea of love and partnership, but her past battles have made her wary. Love feels both close and distant, like something she craves but is cautious about fully embracing.

Her emotional depth runs deep, though she doesn’t always show it. She is someone who feels intensely, yet she’s learned to control and temper her feelings. When her emotions rise, they are powerful, but she channels them carefully, maintaining a composed exterior. Her greatest strength lies in her intuition. She often knows more than she lets on, reading situations and people with a subtle, almost mystical understanding. But this also makes her guarded, as if she’s protecting herself from being hurt again. She’s been through many trials, and though she’s weary, she remains resilient. Her journey is far from over, and while the battles she’s faced have left her cautious, they have also made her wiser. She stands ready to move forward, but she knows the path ahead will require both patience and strength.

[city-of-ladies]

Puduhepa (c. 1300–c. 1215 BCE) was a formidable Hittite queen whose influence extended across politics and religion. Through diplomacy and faith, she left an enduring legacy.

Priestess of Ishtar

Born around 1300 BCE in Kizzuwatna, a region in southeastern Anatolia, Puduhepa was of Hurrian descent—one of the peoples within the multi-ethnic Hittite state.

Her father, Pentipsharri, was a priest of the goddess Ishtar, and Puduhepa herself served as a priestess. It was during this time that she encountered Hattusili, the future king of the Hittites.

Hattusili, then the brother of the reigning monarch, was returning from the Battle of Kadesh against the Egyptians when he stopped in the city of Lawazantiya. There, he met Puduhepa and her father. According to official accounts, Ishtar appeared to him in a dream, commanding him to marry her. Puduhepa thus became his chief wife, a union that appears to have been both harmonious and fruitful, producing several children.

Years later, when King Muwatalli died around 1267 BCE, his son Mursili III took the throne. At first, Hattusili remained loyal to his nephew, but the young king viewed his uncle as a threat and sought to curb his influence. Hattusili eventually rebelled and seized the throne for himself. According to some accounts, Puduhepa likely played a role in inspiring this coup, having received a divine revelation that her husband would be victorious.

Queen of peace

As queen, Puduhepa was a true partner in rule. She held the prestigious title of tawannana, traditionally granted to the reigning queen, which gave her both political and religious authority. She also presided over legal cases.

Puduhepa’s greatest legacy lay in her diplomatic efforts, which ensured peace and stability in the region. She co-sealed key treaties and corresponded directly with Pharaoh Ramesses II regarding the marriage of one of her daughters to him. Her letters reveal a skilled diplomat who was unafraid to assert herself, earning the pharaoh’s respect as an equal.

She also maintained correspondence with Ramesses II's queen, Nefertari, to whom she sent gifts. While only Nefertari’s reply has survived, it reflects a relationship of mutual esteem.

Puduhepa's seal

Shaping beliefs

Beyond politics, Puduhepa played a crucial role in shaping the religious landscape of the Hittite Empire. She composed prayers and liturgical texts, including one pleading with the gods to heal her ailing husband:

If Hattusili is accursed, and if Hattusili, my husband, has become hateful in the eyes of you, the gods; or if anyone of the gods above or below has taken offence at him; or if anyone has made an offering to the gods to bring evil upon Hattusili – accept not these evil words, O Goddess, My Lady!

She also promoted religious syncretism between Hittite and Hurrian traditions:

O Sun-goddess of Arinna, my lady, queen of all the lands! In Hatti you have yourself the name Sun-goddess of Arinna, but the land which you made, that of the cedar, there you gave yourself the name Hepat. I, Puduhepa, am your long-time servant, a calf of your stable, a [corner]- stone of your foundation. You picked me up, my lady, and Hattusili, your servant, to whom you married me, and he too was attached by destiny to the Storm-God of Nerik, your beloved son.

After Hattusili’s death around 1237 BCE, Puduhepa remained influential as queen mother during the reign of their son, Tudhaliya IV. She continued to wield political and judicial power, even intervening in legal disputes such as a case of willful damage to a ship. Despite attempts by her rivals to remove her, she retained her position.

Her last recorded letters date from 1215 BCE. While the exact date of her death remains unknown, she had lived through the final flourishing years of the Hittite Empire.

If you enjoy this blog, consider supporting me on Ko-fi!

Further reading: 

Middleton Guy D., Women in the Ancient Mediterranean World: From the Palaeolithic to the Byzantines

Snograss Mary Ellen,  Asian Women Artists, A Biographical Dictionary, 2700 BCE to Today

[namelessgakusei]

Unknown (Till The End...)

Mark Grayson x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Violence, Gaku's lack of knowledge with guitars

Notes: Gaku actually had a vision about ALNST and Invincible.

Synopsis: You were taken as a performer by the Viltrumites who were fascinated by Humanity's song. Forced to sing to survive, you only hope that your voice will reach him.

"Don't even think this time's enough. Cause you baby still it's not enough. For me alright? Don't leave me, li li da da da."

You hate this.

Forced to perform for these damned aliens just because you have some stage presence. Those homicidal maniacs who only know how to conquer and dominate worlds suddenly got an interest in human entertainment?? What a joke, this must be some kind of twisted torture. Humans are pitted against each other to compete on who'll get the most votes out of their performance, and the loser will get shot to death. The winner? They'll have to sing for another round.

Contestants were treated as pets, stripped of their freedom. Families and friends were torn apart by this system, forced to compete with each other and ultimately become an unwilling accessory to murder. Those who were too mentally weak were easily eliminated, those who rebelled (and subsequently caught) were killed, only those who knew to behave survived, ...or those who had talent, such as yourself.

Not long after the Viltrumites conquered Earth and enacted this sick show, you and some others were taken into a "garden", filled with obviously fake imitations of trees and nature, it's condescending mockery of your home planet. Evey single one of you are required to undergo music classes to improve your skills, and every once a month, all of you are taken to participate in laboratory tests to see your progress. You don't know whose idea was this, but you're sure as hell would want to beat them up.

You had quite the viscous streak, always retaliating and questioning authority, leading to more bruises and injuries than you can count. Pet-Humans, you gagged at the new name, are required to have collars that's used to monitor and as a remote collar. There are some cases of well-behaved humans who are let to live without them, but you? You're never without it, with the light on yours always bright red, signaling your negative feelings.

Surprisingly, it takes three Viltrumites to restrain you, granted, they were really holding back their strength as to not damage you too much. You spat at them once upon being referred to as less than human, and it earned you a concussion that left you bedridden for at least a week. It hurt like hell.

Due to your personality, the other humans steered clear of you in fear of being involved with the punishments, it didn't stopped the younger ones from constantly swarming around you though, insisting you sing for them. Despite your disposition, you wanted to make them happy so you obliged, at least for the couple more years that they get to live before they're forced to the stage.

You were... a decent singer, if you would say so yourself. You watched performances here and there back in Earth, watched theatre once or twice and sung along their songs, but you never performed by yourself, so it was a mystery that you were picked alongside the others to survive as entertainment. You overheard some of them talk about potential or talent but you call bullshit, until you saw yourself easily composing songs that secured your spot as the winner during the weekly tests. Ah, shit.

Sometimes, you think about your past as you sat by the fake river in the false garden. Your friends and family that you hadn't saw since you got abducted. Did they survived? Hopefully. There should still be heroes fighting for the sake of Humanity back there, right? There's Atom Eve, The GDA, Invincible...

You miss Mark. You hope he's not blaming and beating himself up because of this. You know he's a Viltrumite, everyone knows at this point, but you knew him beyond that. You know him as both Mark Grayson and Invincible. And you know that he's probably fighting tooth and nail to retrieve the humans that his kind... No, that his father's kind kidnapped.

That thought kept you going, kept you alive throughout the punishments and torture you get from fighting the guards and system. The thought that he'll be coming for you kept you sane from the abuse.

Until you saw a glimpse of him within the spectators.

It took a while, but the results for the humans who passed the tests came out. Those who pass will compete on the stage, those who didn't were either given away for other purposes or burnt to death. You opened your hands and a light-blue light crackled to life, showing "PASSED". You survive for another day in this hellscape.

You were sent to the fitting room to get dolled up for the photoshoot and promotional events, all while being restrained with wires and alien machinery to keep you in place. That didn't stopped you from flipping the Viltrumites off when it's time to show off alongside the other chosen contestants. That's when you saw Mark.

He's blended in the crowd, face notably exhausted, with dark spots visible under his eyes. His eyes followed your form until you disappear back in the backstage. What the hell? He's here? He's here! Mark's here! That means that this will all be over soon, right?

The first round happened without any repercussions. You saw in your capsule how it rolled out, it was a duet between two lovers. You heard that they plan to make it a tie so no one gets eliminated. You didn't had the heart to tell them that it won't work, opting to have them have hope until the very end. Your suspicions were confirmed later on, as one of them just got shot on the neck, traumatizing their competitor. Your eyes landed to meet Mark's, he's in a Viltrumite uniform, with a downcast expression, like he has given up.

You grit your teeth.

Your round comes after. Making an appearance in Round Two, you were pitted against one of your acquaintances back in the garden. You two weren't particularly closed and you thanked whoever made the teams for that. As the elevator rises up, you mentally prepared yourself for the public retaliation.

Suddenly strumming a particular loud chord, you caught the attention of both your opponent and the crowd, Mark included. You don't know what happened, how it happened, just that Mark looks like shit. You step to the center of the stage, your restraints trailing behind you as you glared at everyone.

"Come on!"

You sang an original song, not the one that was agreed upon a few hours prior. Your competitor tried to keep up with the unfamiliar tune but you kept singing over him, even attacking to prevent any chances of him winning. It was a dirty move, but it resulted in your win nonetheless.

You only grinned at Mark's direction, happy that you got your point across while you got pinned to the ground by the guards, before forcefully shoved back to your capsule. You closed your eyes as you bled from your head injury from getting slammed too hard.

Mark stares at you from the audience, expression unreadable but a flicker of defiance was seen for a second.

[zev-rynna]

I am made aware of the controversy around Jiyan on how he became the general and the terrible story writing from the writers part.

Jiyan has been called names like “Run-away General”, “The Faux General” etc etc, and the complaints that Jiyan is a hypocritical character that judged Geshu Lin’s decision making and yet made the exact same decision Geshu Lin made in the end.

Honestly speaking, I don’t doubt the possibility of terrible writing on Kuro’s part but I wonder if this also reflected the complexity of human nature in the sense that there’s just no perfectly evil/bad person (in this case Geshu Lin) or the perfectly good/right person (in this case Jiyan)? Maybe it was written this way, but wasn’t properly done? Idk..

This is going to be long, bear with me…

Geshu fought the battle and was almost winning, and he has lost too many people to back off. And in his “conversation” with Jiyan, he did also highlighted that backing down and running away will not do justice to all those lives he carried behind his back. It’s true, when it’s war, if you decide to back down knowing you could’ve won, you have nothing to explain to those who have lost their lives in previous battles. Geshu Lin carried all those lives with him, and in his knowledge, the retroact rain’s effect was relatively unknown to him, and his arrogance or overconfidence may have resulted in him disregarding the significance and danger of the unknown. And Geshu Lin was born a warrior, fighting to win battles also means sacrifices have to be made, and therefore his actions reflected his values.

On the other hand, Jiyan was born a medic. His values revolved around saving lives, and the purpose of winning certain battles is to ensure better lives for his people. So if a war caused too many sacrifices, is that war still considered a win for his people? And so with his knowledge and his instincts on the catastrophe that may happen due to the retroact rain, with no Geshu Lin in sight, he made the choice to save as many people as he can by ordering a retreat. I believe at that point, he has no intention to override Geshu Lin’s authority or to made Geshu Lin the “bad guy”, but solely to save the people left to save before they all perished.

But the society (Jinzhou citizens) will need someone to blame. This is the reflection of how humans are like. When loss is too big and incomprehensible, the tendencies to blame become prevalent. In that situation, without knowing all sorts of context, Geshu Lin led to the death of the people and Jiyan was the one who ensured lives saved. Jiyan naturally became the hero and Geshu Lin the villain.

I don’t believe that Jiyan personally wanted to reprimand Geshu Lin or try to taint his reputation so it can make his “promotion” to General more believable. Yes he did not agree with Geshu Lin’s ideals, but I don’t think the whole “Geshu Lin was the cause of this tragedy” talk was started by him. It was the people who needed a hero and someone to blame during the difficult times. Then he was chosen to be General, and when you get to a position like that, confiding in people to tell them how you truly feel becomes a luxury because people start to rely on you and in order for them to respect you and able to lead an army, you have to be composed, and mask all forms of doubts.

When Rover came as prophesised, Jiyan was seen having a “conversation” with Geshu Lin before the war, and Jiyan was mostly quiet on his part. You can sense his doubts manifesting as he is about to make the exact same decision Geshu Lin made years ago, and he questions himself. But then again, Jiyan was flamed incredibly cuz of the irony that he did in fact made the same decision Geshu Lin did, but Jiyan was in the luxury to make that decision knowing what he knew, and having Rover by his side made the odds significantly better. And this was what made the fans/anti-fans so bitter about Jiyan because this was pure hypocrisy at play, especially it made Jiyan looked weak cuz everyone knew the outcome may have been the same as years ago if Rover was not present. But that’s the thing, if Rover was absent, I don’t think Jiyan would’ve made the decision he made.

The tragedy was that Geshu Lin was too quick to be burnt on the stake by people who were desperate to find closure. And the situation Geshu Lin was in, made this grey in the sense that no one truly knew what happened at the war zone and Geshu Lin did not have everything that the people know now about the Retroact rain and Rover to made the war of his time a success. Jiyan has that, that was his luck. But how does one blame Jiyan for that? After all, luck is an also huge component of strength. And probably (just a speculation) - the irony of Jiyan making the same decision as Geshu Lin may be a foreshadowing of Geshu Lin’s return to mock the hypocrisy of the entire ordeal, including the people who blamed him.

The whole situation where Geshu Lin was strongly blamed as the villain and Jiyan was depicted as the hero and the best person ever was so overly exaggerated, I don’t think this was what Jiyan meant for to happen. And I know a lot of people say that “well but Jiyan took all those compliments bla bla”. But he was promoted to general though, he cannot just come out and disregard what people said about him because he needed these people’s vote of confidence, and during those dark times, he is in no position to show any form of doubts. But it doesn’t mean that he didn’t mourn the loss of respect and reputation of Geshu Lin when he’s alone.

I’m upset Jiyan got too much hate for this. This was a perfect depiction of how complex humans are and how things cannot be black and white. It’s so nuance that I’m not sure if I properly explained it in words.

Then again, I really like Jiyan’s character, although I have the admit, the writing was terribly done, which may have caused so much backlash cuz of all the unsaid things. I felt that with a little bit more of explanation on the plot and Jiyan’s thought process would’ve significantly helped with Jiyan’s character building. Now Geshu Lin is so well loved cuz everyone felt that Jiyan stole all that belonged to him. I wouldn’t say Geshu Lin was entirely innocent despite the fault of the people who were quick to blame him, but that’s for another day.

Again, there isn’t a perfectly evil person, just like there isn’t a perfectly good person. People are complicated and one action does not justify the other.

[sscardinal7]

Adding nuance in Navy and Orchid

Me and a friend had a nerd voyage about Navy and Orchid, and Paw brought up their cameo in AVA11 - Victim, in which I never previously considered—and it generally got me thinking about their relationship in compliment of the Newgrounds Tragedy. It had me contemplating about what if, rather the Newgrounds Tragedy was responsible for their substantial regression. What went wrong? I really would have never even begun to compose my thoughts if it weren't for him, so all credits!

Navy and Orchid's relationship is especially interesting to me as they were written and programmed to persist as these ideal, beautifully in love couple who attend towards their child. It's on the thumbnail of their uploaded file after all. All 3 of them in the frame! Protective and adoring arms wrapped around Purple.

Now, the timeline of this is a bit rough.

Purple in the thumbnail appears as though he's rather young. I can safely conclude that he is roughly around the same height as the first combat sequence in his presented backstory in AVM29 - Note Block Universe. The thumbnail provides some context that their story was perhaps on-going.

Navy being written as this character who gives strict but positive practices on combat towards Purple. Giving encourages. Orchid being a kind, lighthearted and comforting supporter toward this, nothing more and nothing less.

Nothing more because their creator was not given a chance to, that is.

The destruction of their file in the 2011 tragedy forced a sudden halt. An acute awareness that the couple's intervention with each other was nothing but automated; synthetic, leaving a sour taste as one would when your entire reality and purpose is completely shattered. There could be no interference towards their line of written story and code, forcing them to stick with their present (or what is known to them as the present)

No updates, no progression, no development, no further growth. Really, just nothing. Just an uncompleted story that forces the two to endure and carry on where they had been abandoned at. It's not like they have any other choice, just as the thousands of animations beside them.

As mentioned, Navy was loving, but designed with strict authority and boundaries towards training.

Navy's intentions and reasoning towards the sparring is unknown, making me beg the question; does he even know? Was his creator given the time to?

This confusion can host some hostility, oh undoubtedly.

Following with these characteristics in oppose to how he handles the aftermath of the tragedy, Navy engages in being impatient, inconsistent, irrational, eager, pestering, forceful, and downright abusive from the power imbalance in reflex to the instability of not having some designated context or rather purpose. Security.

Orchid, being the timid bystander. Providing comfort and sanctity to Purple every once in a while from a far too rough sparring. She's kind, neutral, observant, and naturally empathetic. But the entire interference leaves this bitter taste as she's nothing more than this role.

And honestly, that is heartbreaking for Orchid, and downright sad. Discomfort of aiding in your child's physical and mental development due to the dreadful profound ability of your unfair positioning does not correlate to not standing up for them at all. She has her priorities of not interfering unless certain that he is being empowered. She does not appreciate power imbalances—and this shows as she rather progresses from present comfort towards near audibility unless firm - and this is where I believe her fatal flaw comes in. Ignorance until positive.

And this shows in Purple, it shows a lot.

She does try her best, yes. She's still very loving, she still really loves Purple. She loves Navy. it's in her code after all. But her noticeable absence speaks volumes that she was attempting to distance herself.

But I find the reasoning to be much more due to Navy than Purple, if I'm being honest.

Navy and Orchid's relationship is surely strange. So in love in contrast to their narrative, then stranded to a rough prevention of their chronology. It doesn't defeat the purpose that they still, very much love each other. But the revulsion that it was nothing but a hoax will leave a agonizing dread in the atmosphere.

But after all, they have nothing else to stick to. Be optimistic with what you're left with, make best out of the worst. They can continue where their unfinished log was unfortunately Interrupted. And it goes as unwell as you would expect.

Hell, Navy's reaction towards these issues definitely encourages a hatred in Orchid and prompt towards distance. She was obviously discouraged from him and his impulses way early on, but the conflict rises when her son is the most vulnerable victim of it, and she does not like this.

Orchid and Navy are a loving bunch but two very different individuals. It wasn't too long until Orchid's comforting, soothing nature began to grow anxious and clash with Navy's raw approaches, outbursts and harsh eagerness. The worst part is that this isn't even Navy's fault.

And this shows. You would think once Navy leaves—she could rest. She could feel secure. She is loose from this lined attire that kept her glued to these strict set bounds; she's ridden of worries, and,

And this is where she proves you wrong. She is guilt-ridden, she's upset. She's left paralyzed, numb, in shock, detached. But why?—Why would she feel this way? Isn't she relieved of the split from the first ever obligated context she was programmed to be with?

Oh.

Ohh,

Ohhh, my poor girl.

And it's such a complexity of being doomed by the (unfinished) narrative. And it's rather the contrasting spectrum of it: the burning hatred of the figure you were made to love vs the boundless affection of how at the end of the day—you were still made to love them. The horrors is inescapable, no matter how much you try to run away from it.

[whencyclopedia]

Upanishads

The Upanishads are the philosophical-religious texts of Hinduism (also known as Sanatan Dharma meaning “Eternal Order” or “Eternal Path”) which develop and explain the fundamental tenets of the religion. The name is translated as to “sit down closely” as one would to listen attentively to instruction by a teacher or other authority figure.

At the same time, Upanishad has also been interpreted to mean “secret teaching” or “revealing underlying truth”. The truths addressed are the concepts expressed in the religious texts known as the Vedas which orthodox Hindus consider the revealed knowledge of creation and the operation of the universe.

The word veda means “knowledge” and the four Vedas are thought to express the fundamental knowledge of human existence. These works are considered Shruti in Hinduism meaning “what is heard” as they are thought to have emanated from the vibrations of the universe and heard by the sages who composed them orally before they were written down between c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE. The Upanishads are considered the “end of the Vedas” (Vedanta) in that they expand upon, explain, and develop the Vedic concepts through narrative dialogues and, in so doing, encourage one to engage with said concepts on a personal, spiritual level.

There are between 180-200 Upanishads but the best known are the 13 which are embedded in the four Vedas known as:

Rig Veda

Sama Veda

Yajur Veda

Atharva Veda

The Rig Veda is the oldest and the Sama Veda and Yajur Veda draw from it directly while the Atharva Veda takes a different course. All four, however, maintain the same vision, and the Upanishads for each of these address the themes and concepts expressed. The 13 Upanishads are:

Brhadaranyaka Upanishad

Chandogya Upanishad

Taittiriya Upanishad

Aitareya Upanishad

Kausitaki Upanishad

Kena Upanishad

Katha Upanishad

Isha Upanishad

Svetasvatara Upanishad

Mundaka Upanishad

Prashna Upanishad

Maitri Upanishad

Mandukya Upanishad

Their origin and dating are considered unknown by some schools of thought but, generally, their composition is dated to between c. 800 - c. 500 BCE for the first six (Brhadaranyaka to Kena) with later dates for the last seven (Katha to Mandukya). Some are attributed to a given sage while others are anonymous. Many orthodox Hindus, however, regard the Upanishads, like the Vedas, as Shruti and believe they have always existed. In this view, the works were not so much composed as received and recorded.

The Upanishads deal with ritual observance and the individual's place in the universe and, in doing so, develop the fundamental concepts of the Supreme Over Soul (God) known as Brahman (who both created and is the universe) and that of the Atman, the individual's higher self, whose goal in life is union with Brahman. These works defined, and continue to define, the essential tenets of Hinduism but the earliest of them would also influence the development of Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, and, after their translation to European languages in the 19th century CE, philosophical thought around the world.

Early Development

There are two differing claims regarding the origin of Vedic thought. One claims that it was developed in the Indus Valley by the people of the Harappan Civilization (c. 7000-600 BCE). Their religious concepts were then exported to Central Asia and returned later (c. 3000 BCE) during the so-called Indo-Aryan Migration. The second school of thought, more commonly accepted, is that the religious concepts were developed in Central Asia by the people who referred to themselves as Aryans (meaning “noble” or “free” and having nothing to do with race) who then migrated to the Indus Valley, merged their beliefs and culture with the indigenous people, and developed the religion which would become Sanatan Dharma. The term 'Hinduism' is an exonym (a name given by others to a concept, practice, people, or place) from the Persians who referred to the peoples living across the Indus River as Sindus.

The second claim has wider scholarly support because proponents are able to cite similarities between the early religious beliefs of the Indo-Iranians (who settled in the region of modern-day Iran) and the Indo-Aryans who migrated to the Indus Valley. These two groups are thought to have initially been part of a larger nomadic group which then separated toward different destinations.

Whichever claim one supports, the religious concepts expressed by the Vedas were maintained by oral tradition until they were written down during the so-called Vedic Period of c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE in the Indo-Aryan language of Sanskrit. The central texts of the Vedas themselves, as noted, are understood to be the received messages of the Universe, but embedded in them are practical measures for living a life in harmony with the order the Universe revealed. The texts which deal with this aspect, which are also considered Shruti by orthodox Hindus, are:

Aranyakas – rituals and observances

Brahmanas – commentaries on the rituals

Samhitas – benedictions, mantras, prayers

Upanishads – philosophical dialogues in narrative form

Taken together, the Vedas present a unified vision of the Eternal Order revealed by the Universe and how one is supposed to live in it. This vision was developed through the school of thought known as Brahmanism which recognized the many gods of the Hindu pantheon as aspects of a single God – Brahman – who both caused and was the Universe. Brahmanism would eventually develop into what is known as Classical Hinduism, and the Upanishads are the written record of the development of Hindu philosophical thought.

Continue reading...

[nanoa1foryou]

I'm sure you're familiar with more of the other vain elämää participants than i am, sooo what songs of theirs do you think would be great for johannes to cover? and also vice versa

(only the ones whose songs you're familiar with ofc)

I think I know more songs from the participants than I can think of on the spot, so there are probably plenty of good options I'll miss out on. Still, looking through it all makes me even more excited for the season.

Several pages of pondering under the cut

Now the easiest for me is Riippuvainen by Lauri Haav. There's something about it that has that kind of melancholy that works very well for Johannes, but it's still quite different from his style. There'd be a lot of room to make it his , and over all I'd just love to hear it. However, I think Johannes could pull off almost any Lauri Haav song. They have some very similar elements in their music.

For Viivi, I wouldn't be surprised if Johannes went for Aina. However, I'm not sure if Aina would have been out long enough to get picked, so that's in the air. I'm not really familiar with Viivi's discography, But I'd also say USA has the kind of humours lighthearted touch with hard hitting lyrics that would be Johannes' style.

Niw, Jonna Tervomaa is the first in the list with the kind of expansive discography that is really hard to pinpoint what one might gravitate toward. Skimming through it, I can safely say Johannes would do well on many of these songs, especially on the more recent ones. There's a lot of really lovely melodies and soft tomes, exactly the kind of stuff that Kuumaa works with a lot, but still a really different sound. Not so streamlined to the pop format. I know I'll love wwhatever Johannes picks from here. Listening to Kirkonrotat I'd like to hear that one though. I can hear how the violin would fit there. Or maybe something more hard hitting like Strippaa mulle taas. That would make for an amazing cover.

Now Vesta is one of those artists that I have heard a lot about but heard nothing from, so I can really make any guesses as to any song. However, she also has a softness to her music that Johannes will be easily able to work with. What will really make any cover interesting is how anyone is able to take, twist and interpret the very experimental choices and styles of her music. There are a lot of wild things there, and I hope all the others will take inspiration from it when arranging thier covers, because it would be a shame to do something plain with her music. Something like Kesäwau should not be reduced in it's style.

Pelle Miljoona is also a challenge to pick from, for two reasons. 1) he also has a massive discography under his name, which gives a lot of options. Number 2) he has been in a lot of bands and lineups, so a lot of music listed under him is not written or composed by him, and so out of the question. Over all, I do hope whatever Johannes does with his music, he challenges himself to lean into the alternative rock elements Pelle Miljoona is so famous for. Or at least do something out of the realm of what Hotband would do.

Then we have Mikki Kauste of Egotrippi fame. Egotrippi has a lot of very nostalgicc music for me. Whatever Johannes picks, I'll die. And if it is Äl�� Koskaan ikinä, I may get revived too in one go. If it's Matkustaja, everyone is obligated to read Some things are still unknown, especially chapter 15. You can also keep in mind that that cover will be official soundtrack for the fic. I'll just leave this comment from the author's notes here:

"Guess who had to scroll through the Finnish Wikipedia page for SingStar to see all the song selections just to confirm if Matkustaja by Egotrippi was in fact there or not. It is. And by God could Johannes sing it well."

And then there's Käärijä. As I already said, People's champion is likely. However, withJohannes wild streack, I'd love to hear any song off fantastista. Kiertävä sirkus would certainly fit for how things are going for Hotband. Aikuinen or Micmac could also make for interesting covers, especially if Johannes gets to rewriting lyrics.

Now, for most of these artista I'm not familiar enough with their styles and artistic visions to actually say what they might want to go for, which songs they like, or what'd be a challenge for them, making picking songs for them to cover simply guesswork.

I do want to hear Luotan Tulevaan covered. It is such a simple song, but I also know a lot of artists already love it (Sexmane coming to mind, as well as Käärijä himself). It is a song that resonates with people, but moving it away from the piano tune and into new territory could really make it something special.

I'll be a bit dissappointed if at least Tulipalo or Ylivoimainen isn't picked. They're the big songs, but they're also so very Kuumaa. What would they sound like from any other performer?

And since we have musicians with a lot more experiemntal, alternative sounds to them, really any hotband song could get completely turnedon its head. I'm really interested to hear any and all covers Vesta and käärijä do whatever they pick.

So yeah. This season is stacked.

[leafa-blog]

DAY 6 WHAT IF IT´S TO LATE

A New Beginning

Orihime Inoue looked out the window as Kazui, her son, played in the garden. Many years had passed since the bloody war with Yhwach and even with Aizen himself, who in the end was a key piece in defeating the Quincy leader, everything had returned to normal, those days of battle had ended and there was a slight peace... or at least one to consider in her current situation.

After her separation from Ichigo Kurosaki, Orihime had found peace in her small home, devoting herself completely to Kazui. However, one part of her past had never been forgotten, a specter of green shadows and an emotionless voice: Ulquiorra Cifer. Sometimes, on the quietest nights, Orihime thought of him, wondering if there was something more behind those green eyes.

Kazui, a five-year-old boy full of energy and curiosity, ran around the garden chasing butterflies. Orihime smiled at seeing him so happy and free, but a lingering sadness in her heart would not leave her. She had decided to part ways with Ichigo in an amicable manner, acknowledging that their paths had diverged. Although he remained a protector of the human world and Soul Society, Orihime felt she needed to find her own path.

One day, while walking through the park with Kazui, Orihime felt a spiritual presence she hadn't felt in a long time. The air became cold and heavy, and her heart raced as she heard Sonido of a throat being opened. Looking around, her eyes found a familiar figure, dressed in black and white, with a piercing gaze.

—Ulquiorra… - she whispered, with disbelief and emotion.

Ulquiorra approached, his expression unfazed but with a different glint in his eyes, a shine she hadn't seen before and an immense curiosity in his eyes. "Inoue Orihime," he said, his voice as calm and firm as she remembered.

—How...how is that possible? — Orihime asked, with Kazui clinging to her hand.

— I have returned - Ulquiorra replied, without taking his eyes off her - There is something I must understand, something I could not understand last time -

She was still stunned with a trail of tears that wanted to run down her face, she couldn't believe what she was seeing, even so, she was able to compose herself, trying to stay calm for her and her son, looking for a place where they could both talk.

Sitting on a park bench, Orihime and Ulquiorra began to talk. Kazui played nearby, oblivious to the intensity of the conversation. Ulquiorra explained that, after his disintegration, he had been rebuilt by an unknown force in Hueco Mundo, most likely due to everything that happened with Soul Society, Hueco Mundo and the King's palace in the battle against the Quincys, he had found Nell and Grimmjow, also Halibel who helped him at the time, but apparently there was also a variation with him, so they took him to Urahara who ended up joining the Human world, not before explaining his appearance to the new Captain of the Gotei 13, authorizing him to stay in the real world.

— So Ichigo… ? -

— Yes, he knows I'm coming back… -

— But… no… nothing has happened between you - I look worried.

— Those differences are in the past, I am not serving anyone, and he has no reason to pick a fight with me, so on terms, we are even -

She sighed in relief, despite the time, she always feared that he was determined to end the unequal fight that time... remembering this battle made her tremble internally.

— During my time in Hueco Mundo, something changed in me - Ulquiorra confessed. — Your presence, your light, showed me something I never understood - The Heart… Humanity -

Orihime looked at him with tear-filled eyes, “Ulquiorra, I always knew there was more to you. Something that even you couldn’t see.”

There was a slight pressure on the black-haired man's chest, and he looked away when he felt someone had come to the woman's side.

Ulquiorra looked at Kazui, who had approached timidly. “Who is he?” he asked, his eyes showing a slight curiosity.

Orihime smiled and gently stroked her son's hair. "This is Kazui… my son," she replied proudly.

The black-haired man tilted his head, processing the information. "Kurosaki Ichigo's son?" he asked, his voice almost inaudible but full of interest.

She nodded and looked at him again. "Didn't Urahara-san tell you, or Ichigo?"

He shook his head. “They seemed to find it amusing that I was finding out a lot of things on my own.”

He didn't know how to take what he had just said. "Yes, he is his son. Ichigo and I broke up a while ago, but we are still good friends. Now, Kazui is the most important thing in my life…"

Ulquiorra looked at Kazui with a mix of understanding and something else… something Orihime couldn't quite put her finger on. Finally, he crouched down to be at the boy's level. "Hello, Kazui," he said in a surprisingly soft voice. "I'm Ulquiorra."

Kazui, surprised but curious, extended his small hand. “Hello… Ulqui-san,” he said, imitating the affectionate way Orihime had mentioned the arrancar’s name.

The Arrancar opened his eyes slightly, then walked from the boy to her, who gave him a small smile, and again turned her attention to the boy.

Ulquiorra extended his hand towards Kazui, who hid behind Orihime, but she gave him a slight push causing the boy to look at his mother, she returned his gaze giving him the assurance that everything was fine, he again came out and extended his hand to the man in front of him, and shook his hand… the dark-haired man felt an instant bond, a sense of purpose and responsibility that he had never experienced before — It's a pleasure to meet you, Kazui -

As Kazui played happily a few feet away from them, Orihime and Ulquiorra continued their conversation. Each word exchanged seemed to bring them closer, stripping them of their pasts and allowing them to glimpse a future together. Ulquiorra explained that his rebuilding had been a lonely and painful process in Hueco Mundo, but now that he had returned, this time he knew that his evolution in the Human World would be different.

That night, after Kazuki had fallen asleep, Orihime and Ulquiorra continued to talk, she invited him to her home, when he explained that he had been living in one of the rooms of Kisuke Urahara's Apothecary. Ulquiorra explained that when he returned and before looking for his former companions, he had been wandering Hueco Mundo, searching for answers about his existence and what it truly meant to be human and the only connection he had felt with Orihime had been his only guide.

— Your light — Ulquiorra said, staring at Orihime — showed me something I had never understood. Before it disappeared, I felt a spark of humanity, something I thought I had lost forever — he said as he looked at her hand as she clenched it and extended it.

Orihime felt tears fill her eyes. “Ulquiorra, I always knew there was more to you than meets the eye. I knew you had a heart, even if you couldn’t see it,” she looked at him with tenderness and empathy. “And your return is a sign that even in the deepest darkness, there is hope for redemption and change… I want to help you discover what it means to be human.”

Ulquiorra nodded slowly. “I want to understand the emotions, the compassion, the love that you showed me and learn what it means to have a heart.”

.

.

.

Over time, Ulquiorra began visiting Orihime and Kazui regularly. He grew to know Orihime's son and understand the human world better. Kazui, with his innocence and energy, quickly grew fond of Ulquiorra, calling him "Ulqui-san ." Laughter and conversation filled the home, and Ulquiorra began to experience the warmth of love and family.

One day, as they watched Kazui play in the garden, Ulquiorra spoke in a soft but firm voice, "Inoue Orihime, I know I've done things that cannot be forgiven... But I want you to know that I now understand the value of life and emotions. I know there's a reason I came back, and even if I don't know it, I can at least say that I'm here to protect you and Kazui. By being with you, I know I'll learn what it means to be human."

Orihime, touched by his words, took Ulquiorra's hand — We all deserve a second chance, Ulquiorra… I am grateful that you have returned, together, we can find redemption and peace -

.

.

.

Life went on, and Ulquiorra became an integral part of Orihime and Kazui's lives, she gave him a home to return to, offered him a place in her small house, despite the fact that he had refused several times, both orange-haired men asked him to do it, so finally he went to live with them, his relationship with Orihime despite there being nothing concrete, one couldn't help but think that both of them made a good couple... together, they faced the challenges of everyday life, building an unusual family but full of love and understanding.

Ulquiorra began to experience emotions he had never felt before, the joy of seeing Kazui grow, the warmth of everyday moments with Orihime, and the comfort of having a family transformed him deeply.

Although he still struggled with his nature to start, he felt more human every day.

One night, while having dinner together, Ulquiorra watched Orihime and Kazui laughing at a joke. A warm feeling spread through his chest, something he had never experienced before. "So this is what it feels like," he thought to himself, marveling at the simplicity and beauty of human life.

.

However, peace would not last forever.

.

.

One day, while they were in the garden, they felt an enormous spiritual pressure, the air became dense and heavy, a throat opened and with it multiple leftovers inside it…

An ancient enemy resurfaces in Hueco Mundo, threatening to destroy everything Orihime and Ulquiorra have built. Ulquiorra must confront his past and his own fears, fighting not only for his survival, but for that of his newfound family. The battle tests his newfound bonds and shows how much he has changed since his resurrection.

The enemy, a powerful Vasto Lorde named Dark Zephyr , had sworn vengeance against Ulquiorra for reasons he did not fully understand; Zephyr had gathered an army of hollows and arrancars, and their goal was to destroy everything the Arrancar Ex Espada Ulquiorra Cifer held dear.

— Oi.. Long time no see… Cuarta…. Or should I say Ulquiorra Cifer - he smiled maliciously - I forgot that the Espadas no longer exist -

Ulquiorra knew he had to protect Orihime and Kazui at all costs. "I won't let anything happen to them," he declared firmly, feeling a fierce determination he had never known before.

Some of his henchmen approached the boy taking advantage of the fact that Orihime and Ulquiorra were distracted until they heard him scream.

Orihime made a face of horror at seeing her son in danger, the black-haired man was about to act when the Red-haired Arrancar put his sword to the boy's throat.

— Stop right there… if you don't want me to kill him… come to Hueco Mundo, I'll be waiting for you… and don't even think about asking your Shinigami friends for help… - he said seriously.

— I am more than enough for you trash - he looked coldly at the Hollow in front of him searching for a way to help Kazui.

— Jooo we'll see... damn imbecile -

— Let the child go… this is between you and I -

— Hahaha, of course not! Do you think I'm an idiot? I'll be waiting for you and don't take long... you know I get bored easily -

— Mamaaaaaaaaa!!! Ulqui-saannnn!!! - was the last thing they heard before their throats closed.

— Ulquiorra, what are we going to do? - said the orange-haired girl crying, she was very scared... — Should I call Ichigo? -

— Don't worry, we're going to rescue him, you don't need to call anyone, we can solve it just the two of us, okay? — He took her hand and nodded.

He opened a gorge and they entered it and walked back to Hueco Mundo, only this time they had a purpose, to rescue and bring their son safely... and with that determination they knew they would emerge victorious from that battle.

The battle in Hueco Mundo was intense and brutal. Ulquiorra, with his renewed strength and newfound purpose, fought with a ferocity that surprised even Zephyr. At his side, Orihime used her healing abilities to support Ulquiorra and keep him on his feet, as well as managing to defeat some Arrancars that tried to attack them as he fought.

With one blow Ulquiorra threw the Vasto Lorde far away, there was no need to even use his Resurrection, just his Release was more than enough to fight that adversary, when he could, he used his sonic and arrived with the Adjuca that had the child, this one trying to prevent Cuarta from doing something to him, threatened the little one, but just seeing the Espada's gaze full of hate, cold and murderous, he threw the child and ran far away, but unfortunately, Ulquiorra launched a Cero disintegrating the Adjuca with it.

— Ulqui-san!! - she said while hugging him tightly

Ulquiorra hugged him protectively, quickly inspecting him for any damage. "Kazui… are you okay?" he asked softly, and the boy simply nodded.

— Damn! That hurt me… - the Arrancar returned, don't think that you only have release, all these years I was training, and devouring many hollows to break my mask - he smiled slyly - now you will see what I am capable of… “Wake up, Red Hell!!!” -

At that his pressure increased undeniably, even so Ulquiorra knew that he could beat him without problems, but there were the rest of the Hollows, Adjucas and Arrancars, he had to think of something and fast.

Kazui, although small, showed incredible courage, he saw the situation and even in Ulquiorra's arms he gathered a considerable amount of energy— Ulqui-san, mom, let me help you! - he shouted, launching bursts of spiritual energy that he had inherited from his parents against some hollows that were after his mother.

Ulquiorra and Orihime looked at the boy in surprise but happy inside, because they knew he would be a brave warrior in the end. The black-haired boy used Sonido again, taking care to always protect the little boy and left him near Orihime. "Help your mother, I'll be back in a moment... Orihime, protect yourselves with the shield." They both looked at the Espada and nodded.

The conflict culminated in a confrontation between Ulquiorra and Zephyr. “You do not understand what true strength and desperation are,” Ulquiorra said, his eyes shining with a green intensity. “True strength is not in power, but in protecting those you love.”

— Hahahaha you? love? please are you not that imperturbable and cold being anymore?! Hahahaha stop talking nonsense and fight! -

— A Vasto Lorde like you will never know what I'm talking about… but let me show you true despair -

— SECOND STAGE RESURRECTION -

The battle, although it may seem unequal, will be incredibly merciless. Ulquiorra no longer possessed that strength when he fought with Kurosaki, he was stronger, yes, but he had lost some of his abilities, which was why he fought more carefully than before, his regeneration was not the same.

With a final effort, Ulquiorra defeated Zephyr, but not without cost. Badly wounded, he collapsed to the ground, with Orihime and Kazui rushing to his side.

After the battle, Ulquiorra realizes how much Orihime and Kazui mean to him. In a moment of clarity, he kneels before Orihime and promises that he will always be there to protect her and their child. A touched Orihime offers him her unconditional love and support, sealing their bond with a kiss that symbolizes the union of their souls.

— Thank you, Ulquiorra, Orihime whispered, her lips close to his. — For everything.

Ulquiorra, still weak but determined, took Orihime's hand. "No, thank you, Orihime. For showing me what the heart is and what it means to be human."

.

.

.

With the enemy defeated, peace returns to their lives. Ulquiorra, Orihime, and Kazui continue to build their future together, facing challenges with courage and love. Ulquiorra finally accepts his humanity and finds his place in the world, transforming his old wounds into strength and wisdom.

In the finale, Ulquiorra reflects on his journey and Orihime's impact on his life. He has found something more valuable than power: love and family . As they watch the sunrise together, Orihime takes Ulquiorra's hand and whispers to him, " It's never too late to find the light."

END

[feminist-butch-menace]

Women in art - history series (Medieval times)

In these times countries developed a political system based on the monarchy. Most people were farmers who lived in small rural villages. Women were primarily responsible for childcare, food preparation, tending livestock, and helping at harvest time to gather crops. Women who lived in the larger towns were responsible for childcare and food preparation. They also helped their father or husband in the many trades and crafts needed to support city life, including creating textiles, leather goods, or different metal objects or managing shops and inns.

In this period, the beliefs and teachings of the Catholic church generally informed people's lives. Biblical readings reflected in medieval art frequently portrayed Eve as responsible for leaving paradise, generating the long-held belief that women were weaker than men, easily tempted to sin, and inferior to men. Based on this story and other biblical tales, men's authority over women was emphasized, teaching women to be submissive.

Hildegard of Bingen

Was born in Germany. Her family name was unknown, although early writers did note the family was wealthy. She suffered from poor health as a child, with trouble walking and seeing. Hildegard entered the convent and learned to read, write and sing religious psalms as part of her spiritual training. Even as a child, Hildegard believed she had visions of the future. Hildegard's works included medical information, visionary messages, and philosophical theories. She became a well-known composer of sacred music, and more of Hildegard's liturgical chants have survived than any other medieval composer. Hildegard wrote letters and poems, doing her extensive writings into illuminated manuscripts.

Herrad of Landsberg

Was the Abbess of Hohenburg, which is a convent in eastern France. She was born into a noble family and entered the abbey when she was young. Many girls and women were from wealthy families and received a broader education than most young girls at the time. As Herrad grew older, she rose within the abbey, eventually becoming the abbess. At first, she worked to rebuild the abbey and incorporate more of the surrounding land under the abbey's jurisdiction. As the abbess for twenty-eight years, she was well-liked both inside and outside the abbey.

Sibilla von Bondorf

Was a nun in a Clarissan convent in Germany. Much of von Bondorf's work was for prayer books or books used in the liturgy. Her primary work was a set of illustrations based on the lives of Saint Francis, Saint Clara, and Saint Elisabeth. Copies of her work were widely used among other convents. Religious changes in Germany in the 1400s brought opportunities for women in convents to create and produce manuscripts and liturgical books.

Source: GUSTLIN, Deborah and GUSTLIN, Zoe, 2023. Herstory: Women Artists in History.

[mrs-hwangh]

Oddinary - the new chapter

word count: 3,2k

warnings: slight angst

pairings: in this one not really

sypnosis: your life enters the stage where every day feels the same. It's an endless cycle that repeats itself day in day out until you come across a mysterious building. This encounter will change your life forever.

authors note: hiii! This is my first ever stray kids oneshot so please bear with me :'D This one here is also meant to be some kind of intro for my acc and for my works. A project is already in the works and you'll find the easter egg right here! This shall be proofread but we all make errors sooo..

Well then, I hope you enjoy this c:

______________________________________________

The city was as grey as ever.

Another boring day. Another boring walk. Another boring bus ride.

My life came to the point of an endless repeat. Re-living the same moments, tasks and actions everyday now.

How did my life become so grey?

Since when did the colors dissappear?

The once so vivid world became a place of raining days and a neverending madness.

Jobs as boring as ever, food losing it's unique taste and beauty, turning into a tasteless, quick produced mass so that the day could move on faster.

Growing up was supposed to be something young kids could look up for.

Instead it's just the beginning of an neverending cycle.

Here I am now, the dark sky hidden by countless of black clouds. Small droplets of rain filling the citys area while I was waiting at the bus station.

Another rainy day just like the rest of the month.

The cool wind breezed throughout the tall buildings. Trees sang their songs composed by their leafs. Birds started to flee and find some shelter from the cold change as I spotted my bus turning to the street and station I was waiting at.

The doors opened and the driver couldn't care less to see which person would enter his ride.

The metallic floor was covered by a black carpet. Seats looked as lifeless as ever while every passenger was concentrated on their phone.

There was one free seat next to the window.

And there was one single person who decided to look outside the glas of the said window rather then the one of a phones display.

As the driver closed the doors, the motors cries filled the room while the vehicle started it's journey to it's next destination.

Everything looked the same.

The same house layouts. The same lanterns. The same cars. The same colors.

grey.

The heavy loss of sleep was going to get me until my eyes catched the bright lights of a small building.

I looked around to find any sign showing me the name of the building but there was none to be found.

What was this?

There was a bus station, not a fancy or comfortable one but definetly one that did it's duty.

I pressed the stop button but the driver wouldn't stop. He didn't even seem to use the brakes. Was he ignoring me?

"Excuse me, I have to leave here!"

Our eyes locked as I catched his gaze on the mirror that was placed right above the entrance.

The vehicle stopped in it's track but something in me didn't want me to look away.

Everyone here didn't move a muscle since I entered the bus, not even looking my way when I entered.

Not even the driver.

The eye contact we were holding right now was the first human interaction I've got so far.

The doors finally opened and this was the sign to look away and continue my way to the unknown place.

The familiair cold breeze hit me the second I stepped on the ground.

But I felt a strange feeling.. as if someone was looking at me.

The doors closed behind me as I turned to look at the driver again but what I saw was something different.

The bus was empty but nobody form the passengers I saw earlier left with me nor where they out here.

What was going on?

The silhuette of the driver was still recognizable and I managed to get a glance on the mirror that was placed right above his head.

I was met with a pair of eyes I that didn't see earlier.

They were dark.. I know what I saw.

But why were they blue all of a sudden?

Why was his hair a bright shade of red?

A slight smirk formed at his lips as he started the engine and took off.

Was I hallucinating things now? The bus disappeared as it turned into some alley that wasn't visible from my position.

All that was left for me was to at least enter the building I saw because it was slowly getting cold out here.

And let me tell you one thing, it was bright.

The warmth of the light was something I forgot existed by now.

I found myself attached to it just like a moth to a source of light in the darkest night.

A sign on top of the entrance said 'Ordinary'.

What a strange name for this place.

This right here is everything but Ordinary, if anything it's standing out.

I decided to open the door since it seemed to be some kind of hotel.

The bell ringed once it hit the wooden door when I entered the building.

The furniture seemed to be quite normal as I walked by the small floor to reach the counter.

A heavy blow of the wind outside however closed the door as the second ring echoed through the hall.

The sudden sound made me shriek as I blinked once out of reflex and opened my eyes again to be greeted by something different.

The furniture as well as the buildings structure changed.

What was happening in here??

I felt by breath quicken when I heard some kind of jazz music starting to play from a room that was hidden from me.

My legs worked faster then my brain could process once they brought me towards the door to escape this place.

But it was locked.

Wasn't the place empty when I entered?

I looked outside the glas part of the door to find the bus station but there was none to be seen.

How..

The rain grew heavier as I stood there, paralyzed and terrified.

The ground outside formed small puddles that reflected the building.

One of them showed me the sign where the hotels name was written on it and even this changed.

What the hell was 'Oddinary' supposed to mean now?

A few moments passed until I decided to roam the place. There may be another door in here to lead me outside.

But my guess was wrong.

As I stepped in further into the building I was met by a dimly lit corridor. The lights flickered every second as I tried to understand where this was leading me to.

The flicker started to find it's rhythm until it stopped.

Darkness filled the room until the lights turned back on and I found a pair of eyes staring right into my soul.

"holy sh-!"

There was a guy with blue hair and a weird kind of glove covering his hand. He wore glases and held a book.

Not only did he suddenly appear but also a collection of high quality furniture.

The shock was still fresh but he looked at some kind of list and only nodded my way.

His concentration was then aimed at something else as he completely ignored me.

Okay...

I continued my way and heard the movement of the fabric he wore. He turned around-

What a strange guy.

My walk brought me to another room that was decorated by candles and various kinds of clocks.

Another shock run me over when a bird spawned out of one of them.

I stumbled back and soon another person was coming my way.

Or well..  the clocks way.

The anatomy was very muscular so I assumed that this was another men.

He wore a strange hat and run towards the clock to turn it off.

A smartwatch on his joint showed him an upcoming message when he turned around and saw me.

My presence didn't seem to faze him at all.

A judging glare was sent my way as he turned around again to strangely sit down and put on some eye drops.

Why does this place only get weirder with every second..

I decided that I saw enough and continued my search for an exit.

The corridor brought me to a staircase which was filled with countless of polaroid pictures.

These faces seemed to be oddly familiar..  the faces.. they were the busses passengers!

Why the hell are they here?

My thoughts were suddenly stopped by a bright flash. This was my third encounter today in here.

Another guy with his camera high.

The rest of the room was filled with equipment you'd find in a photo labor.

I stepped closer and he got a cake from one of the desks.

He took some steps closer to me and handed it over..  it's print left me speechless.

There was a childhood picture of me.. where did he get it..

Why don't I remember it being taken in the first place..?

"Who are y-"

My question was stopped when he handed me another Polaroid.

The one he just took.

I tried to grab it but he let it fall right before I got a grip on it and left the room.

"Rude"

I kneeled down to pick it up but as soon as I got it the room changed again.

Newspapers were gathered all around the floor and a bed was suddenly placed right before me.

Another guy was in here, lying on the bed with another one of the newspapers covering his face.

'Missing people'

That.. that was the guy from before..

I tried to take the paper but that seemed to wake him up.

He suddenly sat up and looked through the room.

I fell and couldn't crawl further back thanks to a desk.

Unlike the others he was coming right at me.

Goosebumps formed all around my body as he lowered his head next to mine.

All I could do was to look away, hoping that he wouldn't do anything to me.

Luckily my prayers were heard and he stepped back, lying back down and putting the paper on his face again.

I managed to calm down but something new catched my gaze.

There was my picture on the paper..  right where the other guy was just now.

'Missing people'...

What kind of black magic was this right now?

Did I fall asleep while I was on the bus?

That has to be it, nothing could explain this situation any better right now.. right??

But why did it feel so real? Why don't I remember falling asleep at all..

A cold light disrupted my train of thoughts and lured me to another staircase.

A wooden like structure decorated the wall next to me and the sound of moving fabric picked my senses.

I looked up and found yet another person.

He was different though.

A guy with vivid red hair holding an apple that was resembling the very same shade of red.

He was ready to bite it but as soon as he saw me he moved his arm down and stared right into me.

Those eyes.. I knew them from somewhere but from where..?

That gaze he held was dangerous.. I felt my fear growing and eating everything it found in me.

I know where I knew them from.

The driver.. the smirk.. the eyes..

It was him.

That guy lured me in here.

The ride wasn't an hallucination then.. it was real but where was the station?!

My breath grew heavier and I stormed down the remaining stairs to get away from that creep.

Just when I thought that I could jump down and sprint away, I was met with a squished can.

That thing flew right infront of me straight into the wall.

If I was just a milisecond faster.. I'd be dead..

I was terrified at this point as I looked to my right.

A new person holding a hockey bat.

He held another can and crushed it as if it was nothing, then he pointed the bat at me, lowering that thing and walking straight to me. The tremble started to get the best of me as he stood exactly where the crushed can had landed.

I looked down, trying to calm myself the best I can until he'd go away just like the ones before him.

And he did. Or in fact.. I disappeared.

Just like when I tried to get the polariod of me, I found myself once again in an empty corridor, lights flickering wildly as I finally lost the battle of my cool.

There was no escape and no matter who these guys are, I won't leave this place unharmed.

The pauses between the flickers grew bigger again. I wasn't just terrified at this point.. my fear reached levels beyond our understanding.

As if it couldn't get any better, another person spawned right infront of me.

There was a frame he was standing in.

The lights then closed again and he disappeared.

"What is this now.."

I stepped back, trying to find any support in that wall but as soon as the light went on again, he appeared again, closer.

This was the first yell that escaped my lips today, the flickers became faster and he continued to appear closer and closer each time the light went back on.

I was running at this point.

And there it was, an elevator.

I ran as fast as I could, maybe, just maybe that could save me from the madness in here.

My hand smashed the button to close the doors once I entered it and when I turned around I saw something new on the strangers torso.

A sign

'Hug me'

This was getting worse.

Since I didn't know on which floor I was, I didn't know which one to chose.

The first floor was locked and the others filled with psychopaths.

Just before I could push anything I was met by a new face.

This one however seemed to be kind.

His eyes didn't hold that hatred or that disgust.

They weren't kind, but they were softer.

I was captured by his freckles until I catched him moving his hand and pushing the highest floor by himself.

He gave me a lock and looked outside the window.

"Good luck"

Was all he said until he disappeared.

The elevator started to move itself upwards. There was a big window behind me showing the whole city from above.

And once again, the light flickered.

I tried to somehow calm myself down because everytime that happened it meant that someone new was here.

And yes, I was right.

I felt someone's hot breath on my neck.

Whoever it was was standing very close to me.

My heart pounded in my chest so hard that I heard each beat as if it was connected to any sound boxes.

"Do you want to be ODDINARY?"

I jumped at this, the voice was very cold and lacked of any warmth or sympathy.

You could basically hear the danger and that was what gave me the last shot.

My body started to tremble uncontrollably.

"Please.. I-I just want to get out of here"

Tears were starting to form at the brink of my eyes.

"Believe me, you will"

And with that he appeared right infront of me.

It was him, the guy from earlier.

His red hair.. the blue eyes.. he was smirking as he moved his arm and pushed me right against the window.

It broke and here I was, falling down.

I felt the cold wind enveloping me into it's unforgiving embrace. Fear was eating me whole but at the same time.. when did I ever feel this alive?

Was I supposed to feel this much at once?

My hands were trying to grab anything, anything to safe me from that fate.

But the only things in my reach were shards of shattered glass.

Aswell as the lock that the guy from earlier gave me.

I tried to look up, finding the elevator with the guy standing on top of it.

He was looking down on me, smirking.

Not long after he jumped aswell, diving into the fate that awaited me soon enough.

As soon as he jumped though I heard a small crack.

The lock.. it broke?

My mind wasn't able to process everything that happened at this moment, the only thing I was trying to do was to get ready for the merciless impact.

Which never came.

__________________________________________

I opened my eyes confused as to why I was still breathing.

My legs found their strength again and I stood up, recognizing a staircase in the deep end.

I walked to the spot and saw the eight men I met earlier.

Here they stood together, looking at me and then at the guy I saw the last.

He was looking at me but this time with a softer look.

Even if they stood there united, there was one blank space in the center.

I eventually realized that the spot was meant for me.

Their lingering gazes stressed me so I made my way to take the spot and what I saw made me speechless.

We were looking at the exact same spot I entered the building earlier, but the thing is that the said building is nowhere to be seen.

Not the station, not the building.

But what I was looking at was something completely different.

Yes I knew this place, the variant I was looking at right now however was empty.

"This right here will be filled with your experiences"

The guy I saw at the entrance spoke first.

"My experiences..?"

The clock obsessed guy continued the first ones work.

"The hotel will be the place we'll all be living, but this is your space to fill with anything you create or collect"

"And here's the first item already"

This time it was the red haired person who spoke.

I tried to focus to see what he was seeing and he indeed was right.

There were mirrors. Some broken ones.

Why were they there.. as if some mirrors would be of any help..

"The day will eventually come when you'll understand what's going on here"

This was the soft guy now.

"Tell me at least your names.. please"

"Of corse"

The guy with the list from earlier said and they all introduced their names.

Bangchan was the oldest one and the first I saw when I entered the building.

Han was the person who looked at me with that judge stare.. as if I hadn't any reason to do the same with that sick collection of his..

Changbin was the 'Hug me' obsessed one who scared me just enough to run into their last trap.

Hyunjin was the red haired and blue eyed one who pushed me off the elevator.

Seungmin was the guy with the Polaroids..  I still find it scary as to how he managed to get that childhood picture..

Lee Know was the guy who had the obsession with the cans.

Felix was the soft one and as I found out also the most kind hearted one. He was the one who was turned the most recent before I joined them for some reason.

And last but not least Yeongin. Their youngest member and the person who had his floor covered in newspapers.

But the most important thing for now is to understand what these items mean..

Mirrors.

[dyssebeiawashere]

I want to preface by saying that this isn't a remix or arrangement, but merely the ripped gamefiles adapted into the BeepBox framework. The audio quality is less grainy than the GBA soundchip, but it's also not quite as rich in quality as the original compositions source material. If you want to see some attempts to recreate the original songs with original instrumentation but outside of the GBA interface check out irikachana on YouTube:

There's some great stuff there! I also wanted to talk about Mother 3, or more specifically: Chapter 3 here. Potential Spoilers Ahead: One of the main differences from Earthbound was that rather than an open world, Mother 3 is divided into various chapters and even has a few time-skips here and there between them. While most of these chapters follow our main cast, Chapter 3 is often considered the 'odd duck' in that it follows the perspective of a side character called Salsa. In lieu of explaining too much: This chapter plays a much bigger role in the narrative of the story than is initially obvious and the payoff comes later in the game. The villagers, in tolerating the abuse aimed at Salsa, ultimately pave the way for their own abuse at the hands of the Pigs. Instead of shock collars on all of them, however, Thunder Tower plays the role of an artificial hand of justice that smites down those who don't play by the rules. Just as with Salsa, the neighbors of the victims simply look the other way and assume that it must be deserved, as obedient citizens never suffer from this magical lightning. Tazmily goes from a society built on love to a society built around fear because they were willing to allow cruelty to the 'other' in order to avoid confrontation and/or conflict with the unknown. It's important to consider that when we tolerate bad behavior just because it doesn't immediately affect us we, through inaction, are endorsing the use of said behavior as being 'suitable under certain conditions'. Unless we take care, it's not so hard to move those goalposts until anyone with reasonable authority can define those 'certain conditions' as they see fit. Be kind, show love to others, and know that choosing to do nothing is still making a choice. Sometimes doing what is right is hard, but making that choice is part of the process of making a better world you want to live in by taking a step in the right direction instead of standing in place and hoping the rest of the world carries you to where you want to be.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

“Heirs have the responsibility, second sons have fun” - does it truly suck to be a third son of a noble family then, in Westeros and/or real world medieval Europe?

Some notable third sons in Westeros (not counting the ones who got to inherit based on the death of their elder brothers, such as Jaehaerys I, and not counting those elder of their brothers who died in infancy, such as Oberyn Martell, who is technically a fourth son):

Waymar Royce

Loras Tyrell

Renly Baratheon

Rickon Stark

Benjen Stark

Rhaegel Targaryen

Victarion Greyjoy

Maester Aemon

Archmaester Vaegon “the Dragonless”

Daeron “the Daring”

Joffrey Velaryon

Tygett Lannister

Tornan Peake

Aenys Frey (And other Freys including: Tion, Petyr “Pimple”, Danwell, Jaime, Whalen, Maester Willamen, Waltyr)

As is explicitly pointed out in Waymar’s (“Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs.” —AGOT Prologue) and Loras’ (“it relieved him of the difficult task of trying to find lands and a bride for a third son, never easy, and doubly difficult in Ser Loras's case.” —ASOS, Sansa VI) cases, as third sons they had little chance to inherit, and little chance of marrying into/conquering lands, thus they joined celibate organizations. Maester Aemon joined another celibate organization, the Citadel, on the orders of his grandfather Dàeron II (who feared too many Maekarspawn running around, I guess), and Archmaester Vaegon was pressured by his father Jaehaerys I after he refused to marry any of his sisters (and probably had a happier ending than any of his siblings, studying in obscurity). Similarly, Benjen Stark and Maester Willamen Frey joined the Night’s Watch or Citadel respectively in order to not require their families to provide for them, or to follow family custom. Then there’s joining a sellsword company like Tornan; the “Second Sons” is named after how many landless younger sons joined (they could also be third sons, or sons of any birth order); similarly, Daemon Targaryen’s army on the Stepstones was partly composed of younger sons.

Those who didn’t join a celibate organization or went abroad usually stayed with their families as household knights, with mixed results of “fun.” Rickon and Renly had to part with them, either because splitting up would be safer or because since his brother was crowned, he got his own castle; they probably had the most fun out of their brothers, either fighting unicorns on Skagos or throwing tourneys in the Reach, but definitely not trained to rule. Joffrey was also kept out of the war due to his age, but that didn’t stop him from trying to protect the Dragonpit. It’s stated that Daeron “the Daring” was more of a follower of his brothers than a leader, and refused to accept the kingship when his brother was incapacitated. Prince Rhaegel was unfit to rule due to mental health issues, what with dancing around the Red Keep naked, but seemed to enjoy himself more than the notoriously joyless Maekar and Aerys. Tygett Lannister, Victarion Greyjoy, and Aenys Frey were fierce warriors and loyal commanders to their brother/father, although sometimes there’s been resentment (and none are dying well, from the pox or from falling into a trap during wartime in addition to probably unknowingly eating his own son, to whatever magical accident Victarion will end in). The other third son Freys range from horrifically murdered (Tion, Petyr) to humiliated (Danwell, Whalen) to children/just unknown, but I’m not sure if that’s due to them being third-born sons or if the author likes to debase Freys in general.

Joining celibate organizations or joining the army was true to life for younger sons in Medieval France, England, and Italy, although as these were Catholic countries, that celibate organization was the Church (that actually meant these sons often had a more scholarly education than their oldest brothers). However, there were third sons that were given land/titles/brides (often heiresses in their own right) by their fathers/brothers, or served their families through commanding armies or as diplomats (though there could be resentment). The amount of “fun” or “suckiness” depended on the situation of the family and character of the son, but he was certainly richer and better educated than most of the country. Though I’ll say that in Westeros, it’s often the first sons who are charismatic but drown themselves in their passions to avoid having to self-reflect/face criticism (Robert, Robb, Tywin), the second sons burdened with grim responsibility/loyalty/duty (Stannis, Ned, Kevan), whereas the third sons can get a little more freedom of expression away from the family (Renly, Rickon, Maester Aemon) (although in case of fourth sons, they may have the more fun and the third born is also somewhat burdened with grim loyalty; see Gerion, young “Egg”, young Aeron). But it’s difficult to try to assign traits based on birth order to all ASOIAF characters due to their different circumstances and personalities.