#am i supposed to use them to make my website instead of doing it purely in html css and java?

[bf-rally]

okay finally colored this!

idk what the sites color theme will be, so the colors will most definitely change but for now we have a logo (ft. my oc A)

[tiredspacedragon]

So we finally got a proper Legends: Z-A trailer

Saw a few other people posting their thoughts, so I figured I might as well join in because I do have a lot to say and not too many people to say it to. So here's what's going through my head looking through the trailer and website.

Long post ahead.

I was right. I told y'all and I was right and I am going to be smug about it because I said so. Present. Freaking. Day. I said the clothes in the reveal trailer proved it wasn't set in the past and I. Was. Right. Could still be time travel involved I suppose, but the majority of the game is set in the present and I am vindicated.

I wonder if the train station we arrive in, or I guess I'm just assuming this is a train station, is the same one that takes you to Kiloude in XY. Still want to know what "the usual place" is and if it has anything to do with the ghost girl.

The male protagonist kinda looks like Professor Sycamore to me. I wonder if we're gonna be a nepo baby in this game.

No gym logo on Prism Tower anymore. Which could mean anything really.

Actually a little disappointed about the "wild zones," I'd have preferred to see the Pokémon just out and about wherever. I think they may still be? But just mostly confined to these places. Bit of a bummer, not that bad.

The starter trio is...weird. I am disappointed to see that neither Snivy nor Piplup are part of it, feels like that was done on purpose just to subvert expectations. But subverted expectations don't guarantee the surprise is better, y'know? But yeah, Chikorita, Tepig, and Totodile. I mean I don't dislike any of them, I'm happy to see them getting some love, they desperately need it. But having two of them be from Johto is really strange. Kanto and Hoenn probably weren't options because their starters already have Megas, but that still left Sinnoh, Alola, and Galar to pick from. So here's hoping they've just got something really good cooked up for both Meganium and Feraligatr that they just couldn't wait to show off. I'm really not sure if this game will follow in the footsteps of the previous Legends game and give us regional forms for these guys, or if they'll just get Megas instead. Both is possible, but unlikely, while just Megas feel like the most likely. Which kinda sucks because I like regional forms and would like to see more, but Kalos is the Mega region, sooo... I mean they could give these guys regional variants and then give us Megas for the Kalos starters and have us get one of them a la how we got a Mega Kanto starter in XY, but that's pure speculation. Anyway, these guys are neat, if a little odd. I like 'em fine. Also first time getting two quadrupeds in one starter trio so that's cool. Yeah Tepig's gonna stand up but it's still a first for the base forms.

Looks like the catching system works the same as it did in Arceus, which suits me just fine, because I had a lot of fun with that.

Ooh, we can go on rooftops. I notice, though, that there's no sign of catacombs yet. Still holding on to that little hope. Come on Game Freak, it's a whole game set in Poké-Paris, there have to be catacombs.

Rival picks the starter weak to yours. Lame.

Okay, so real time battles. That is...very interesting. I doubt this will become a series staple, at least in the mainline games. The turn-based Pokémon metagame is far too deep, intricate, and honestly well-crafted for them to just throw it out, but it is a neat idea for a pseudo side game like this. The faster pace will make the battles less methodical, less about taking your time and coming up with strategy and more about thinking on your feet, which could be a neat challenge. And I'm looking forward to seeing how certain moves' mechanics change in relation to this new system. The above screenshot, for example, shows a Lucario using Protect, which is normally not a very good move for playthroughs as it doesn't do much in most single battles other than waste a turn, but now in this game it will be invaluable. Being able to completely block an enemy attack without worrying about dodging and repositioning is incredible. It looks like each move is on a cooldown timer too, so you can't just hammer away with the same move over and over again. Guess that keeps the battles more dynamic. Also I wonder if this means they'll do away with PP. More powerful moves may just take longer to recharge. Hmm. There's a lot more I could say here, but I don't want this post to go on forever. Still this is neat, especially since I've been musing a lot lately on the differences between battles in the games vs how they're depicted in the anime and such.

I see the player character still has a dodge roll, so I assume the Pokémon can still kill us? Hope so, that was a big part of the fun last time.

So Mega Pokémon are all permanently iridescent now? I...actually don't mind that, it looks kinda nice. Sorta reminds me of the Terastallization crystallized effect. Pretty. Also I like the new bronze-coloured Mega Ring. Also pretty.

So the CEO is evil, right? That's kinda the way these things work in Pokémon. Of course it could be a double bluff and she's actually chill because they know we're expecting that trope by now, but we'll see. The big manly man secretary with the Pancham and Buneary hair ornaments in his man bun is cute though.

They put AZ in a SUIT?? Man looks clean! Like he even washed his hair! And he's smiling! He recovered and he's actually happy! Oh you love to see it. Still though, my guy, I get that you're three meters tall, but you live in Poké-Paris. You could have found a tailor. So I guess the stitched together clothes are a fashion statement.

Also we are so getting that Floette.

I never noticed that Zygarde 10% has a butthole before. A hexagonal one at that.

Looks like some parts of the city are still under construction. There's scaffolding up. That's cool, adds more of a 3D element to the environment. I do like climbing things.

Also, speaking of the city, it's split into five sections, and now they're all colour-coded. Which is kinda funny looking, but I mean I'm here for it. The colours match the plazas Lumiose had in XY that were named after colours...almost. The red section is where Magenta Plaza should be, and the section where Rouge Plaza should be is a very pale pink. So did they change the order, or are these colours someone's very mixed up idea of what magenta and red look like?

Okay so the rival is the protagonist you didn't pick with a palette swap and wardrobe change. That's cool, it's been a while since we've seen that. I mean I guess Arceus did it, but that was to match DP having Lucas and Dawn appear in game. The last time it happened with totally new characters was...XY. Huh. And of course changing their look is totally new. The names are a little goofy though. Urbain and Taunie. Sometimes Pokémon can be subtle with the protagonists' and rivals' names, but Urban and Townie here are not an example of that.

Speaking of, no names for the protags yet, but they are totally new designs, not makeovers of Calem and Serena, at least not obviously. I wonder if they'll be referenced at all. I highly doubt either will actually appear, but some mention of "the hero who stopped Team Flare x years ago" would be pretty standard Pokémon fare.

It is interesting how things in the wild zones seem to have just been left as they are. Like they weren't cleared out or turned into parks, there are cars left crooked on the side of the road and tables and chairs abandoned where they sat. I wonder if that's going to be a point of tension in the plot, people opposing the redevelopment plan because they were forced out of their homes. Seems unlikely for Pokémon to get into anything like that too deeply, but they may touch on it. Why do they look like that?

Sooo that's a Chikorita that knows Disarming Voice, which it cannot learn by any means in the mainline games. I smell a Grass/Fairy Meganium form in our future. Mega or regional, whichever. Tepig is shown using Rollout and Totodile is shown to know Bite, but both of them learn those moves normally, so that's no guarantee of Rock or Dark types for them. Fairy moves are new for Chikorita though, very very new.

Either that is the world's tiniest Onix, or Pokémon won't be properly scaled in this game. Again :/ Come on guys, you made it work last time. Yeah, visible size variation has been a thing in the last couple games, so maybe there's hope, but that itty bitty Onix sucks to see.

Okay hold up. Bottom right corner. It looks like Mega Evolution is on a timer. Don't tell me it just ends after that runs out. Oh I don't like that. Not at all. The whole point of Mega Evolution is that it's once per battle but it lasts the entire battle. That better not mean it only lasts until that timer runs out, that just makes it reskinned Dynamax. But I don't know what else that could mean. Ugh. Not a fan of that, no sir.

LOOKER BUREAU SPOTTED!!! Oh please tell me we get to check in on Emma. I would love that.

Okay, so this is the last thing shown in the trailer. A logo showing what looks to be the Prism Tower with a Poké Ball atop it, just after the text, "PROMOTION MATCH ANNOUNCEMENT." So what I would assume that means is that there are some kind of promotional battles, maybe a tournament, being held in Prism Tower? Possibly to fund the redevelopment project? I expect they'll use this to have a bunch of old characters show up with updated designs, which I love, so consider me stoked.

[adobe-outdesign]

what do you think of the new pteri day stuff? personally i'm not a fan of the cardinal outfit mainly because something about the face just looks wrong to me, but i like the museum outfit and am glad we got a new one of those. and i think the candy pteri is so funny. i think it's cool to have a choice between a more typical-looking, but still cute, candy pet, and between using PB clothes to turn it into a peep. i've already seen people make hilarious customs with the peep pteri.

Candy: Yeah I'll admit, I'm not the biggest fan of this one, sorry. I do like the concept of it being based off a Peep (though admittedly most people outside of the US don't know what that is—note for non-US readers: a Peep is a vaguely bird-shaped marshmallow covered in sugar crystals sold around the holidays), and I do appreciate them doing two designs, one "outfit" that's super literal and then one that's more pet-specific, which shows a good deal of effort. Also, the outfit is pretty funny purely from a meme perspective in the same vein as the Maraquan Nimmo.

However, my problem is that we're on two ends of the extreme with both designs: one is literally straight up a Peep(TM) with nothing Pteri-like about it whatsoever, and one is a vaguely glittery Pteri with nothing particularly candy-like about it. Why not blend the two? Give us a Pteri with the same texture, but round out the claws, feathers, etc. Make the eye markings all blobby, give the head feathers and tail that signature Peep flip, make the pupils the little candy dots, and maybe even have a little bite taken out of the wing to show off the marshmallow interior. You could even still keep the same outfit for the meme if you want, but then you'd at least have a high-effort Peep-inspired Pteri instead of a Peep(TM) and a low-effort Pteri colour, which I think is an import distinction.

As a side note, I'm linking this post by @synthaphone out of obligation because it says most of the same things I just did but was published earlier:

Forest (Outfit): Once again, not a huge fan. I've never really liked these hyper-realistic animal outfits; I'm playing Neopets for the neat fantasy creatures, so for me, having an outfit that's just like, a straight-up cardinal feels pretty boring.

Putting aside personal preferences though, I also just find this really uncanny? It's a bad combo of way, way too much texturing and detailing on a very cartoonish body with eyes that really don't belong on that face. The rendering itself is at least objectively well-done with lots of nice shading, but I would've much preferred just a regular non-textured Pteri with the same colors and markings. Once again, the difference between making a Neopet inspired by something IRL and just making something that already exists IRL.

Museum (Outfit): Okay, now this one I do like a lot. I already made a review covering museum outfits and in it I mentioned wanting more that aren't just mammals. The Pteri is a welcome addition, following the same format as the other museum outfits but having the skeleton hang from suspension wires instead of it sitting on a platform like all the others. That's really nice attention to detail and works perfectly with the concept. While the rendering here is still more detailed than Neopets' art tends to be, it's not bothersome as it's not uncanny (being a skeleton) and you can still very easily tell it's a Pteri.

My only minor gripe is that the placard shows just a straight-up pterosaur, which is weird. I get that the Pteri is supposed to look a bit like a pterosaur with the head crest and everything, but just having a real-life dinosaur on there is kind of distracting. That's a very minor point though; otherwise, I'm a big fan of this one.

[sl33py-g4m3r]

Linix-Unix-BSD Laptop Journey~~ (and some questions again)

yet another question~~ tho up to my own musings and uncertainty at this point~~

I'm too afraid to try to install FreeBSD cause I'm worried I won't be able to dig up some needed internet info and that makes me feel dumb~~ is the Domain Name not the Hostname or name of the wifi? or would it be my ISP's website or something?

I like tech but not knowing this makes me feel stupid lol even though I'm probably not~~~ and that's just anxiety lying to me~~~

also is there any point in moving from Linux Mint Debian Edition 6 to Debian 11 disks that I have burned?

the only one with the zoom feature (unless I install something if I can find it) is the Cinnamon Desktop, and at that point I see no point on dropping Mint for pure Debian in that case....

need accessibility for my blind butt (despite also being stubborn and not using it half the time anyway lol)

ALSO none of the debian live CDs that I tried saw my WIFI and idk why~~ and they're all debian 11...

might need to download newer versions and burn them to disk I guess~~

or maybe if I installed one of them anyway, and actually hooked it to ethernet, then installed updates whether it would see my wifi then? idk

found a distro that doesn't use SystemD called PCLinuxOS and thought about giving that a try, but idk if it's good for someone like me, but I got a handle sort of on fedora back in the day.

So currently stuck on linux mint debian edition cause I'm afraid to give freebsd a try due to maybe not having the network information requited and idk where to find it~~ and cause debian just straight up wouldn't see my wifi~~ tho I've also said before in this post that idk if it's a good idea or not to go from linux mint debian, to straight debian.... cause I'm going to be stuck with the Cinnamon desktop anyway~~

like yesterday I spent all morning booting into all the debian live CDs that I had; except for the standard which I think is GNOME, and none of them could even SEE my wifi or ANY wifi

now I hate that I seem like the person that just wants things to work instead of tinker w stuff to get it to work, cause that's part of the fun and frustration of being on linux I suppose~~~ and I really hope I'm smart enough to figure stuff out~~

would be happy to eventually jump to a more unix like OS cause I believe the backbone of the internet is UNIX anyway~~ :)

I like to think I'm a nerd and a techie but at the same time think I'm stupid and don't know anything~~ if I'm being brutally honest w myself~~ but I guess you got to be feeling stupid to learn huh?

tldr; and making the questions more easily found~~ my journey through linux/bsd computer systems so far, and where I'm at....

Is it worth it to install pure debian if I'm already using linux mint debian (and the wifi actually works), should I get away from SystemD and try to install PCLinuxOS? or FreeBSD? am I smart enough to install FreeBSD? What network information do I need and where can I find it?

and yet another random question at the bottom cause I remembered a linux youtube channel where they talked about a bunch of stuff way back in the 2010s I think called "Jupiter Broadcasting" what happened to them?

wanted to go eventually to FreeBSD cause it's more unix like than linux, and i think more cohesive as a whole as opposed to bits and pieces mossaic'd together in linux.... also if it is more unix based, unix as far as I'm aware is the backbone of the internet if I'm remembering correctly~~ and I'd be happy to use it~~~

so idk what I'm doing~~ lol, stay on linux mint debian cause it works? try to get FreeBSD installed, try to find out how to fix debian not seeing my WIFI (I'd hoped that if I installed it and connected it to ethernet that updates would fix that), or install PCLinuxOS that I found? cause it looks neat~~~

more history about myself~~ as dumb as it sounds, or maybe not, my dad was into tech, he'd built his first computer and if it wasn't for him pirating some version of windows, we never would've had it, lol. but ye he was a techie, and he showed me the 1995 movie "hackers". I watched that on repeat through my teenage years for some reason~~ the music was good, and now I learnt that that's not actually bow hacking works, lol it's a cheesy film.... but that sparked an interest in technology and eventually led me to finding linux to begin with. and Unix~~ cause I thought it was something that my dad and I could do together~~~ but we never did...... but the techie interest stuck~~~~ I need to rewatch that film and find the soundtrack CDs I have~~~ been a while~~~~

second guessing it am I even smart enough to run anything other than linux mint anyway? probably yes but I doubt my own intelligence, lol. especially I think anyone irl I've shown my writing to or talked to say that I'm "smart as a whip" but I don't see it.... :(

[pinkopalina]

how covid unsocialized me.

it's hard for me to even wax poetic about my experiences because I saw how little anything mattered. so many of us died and even more wrote it off like god was thinning the herd or like the most vulnerable of us getting picked off was deserved because of what the most brutal and uncaring of us did. it made me form a stark contrast between who I thought "us" was and who I realized "they" are.

it made it really hard for me to live day to day without ruminating about our systems and how unhappy I am playing pretend doing stupid shit to make money for people who proved to me that they don't care about me. why am I doing this? why do I have to participate ? how are the rest of you happy and complacent this way, but how dare I say that? in what way have I proven myself a pure saint of a paragon? I have sinned with my apathy.

now I'm so completely disillusioned with any attempt to care about anything because I watched in real time as everything shifted. as covid broke us and rebuilt us for THEIR convenience. yes being gay is okay, to sell you stuff. but we'll take your rights away. yes we care about work life balance... but only if our job controls our access to healthcare and we have to be there more than enough to warrant the work we do.

and it's not like it was great before! it's not like something amazing was ruined and I'm just mad at covid for fucking it up. it was bad and it was a matter of time before something sparked change, and I feel like that was supposed to be covid. if it wasn't that, it was gonna be something else. we had this whole opportunity to actually change and heal the earth and ourselves but we FUCKED THAT UP. we're STILL FUCKED UP YEARS LATER. how many more years of this am I going to witness and bear apathy to because I have no better choice???

it feels with so much bad shit compounding on top of each other, like an unhealthy mind, our unhealthy society ruminating on their problems and blaming each other instead of getting up to help has just left me defeated. the fight goes on and I am no soldier. it's every day. it's always feeling stupid for feeling hopeful and then feeling regret for overcorrecting with rage. I feel like my words are so foreign and long winded to people now that expressing myself, like trying to be saved during COVID, was useless. I legitimately have thoughts like "well at least people who are dead now don't have to worry about what a shit world it's becoming lol" but I can't even EXPRESS that I feel that way because Tumblr police in my head from 16 years of being on the only website that hasn't died yet -- but only has a MILLION rules you have to abide by unless you want a callout post and to develop borderline personality disorder -- will remind me that thoughtcrimes are actually that serious like just as bad as the real shit that is happening with the people with guns and money and power and law making abilities and you should be killed for them too. even though the war is bad. like, these rules don't make any fucking sense but I still have to abide by them.

and then I go into these huge metaphors and assumptions about life and it's echo chambering in my own brain and I actually feel like I turned into the joker. except I'm not even allowed to relate to that because everyone in the ship tag you follow to try to alleviate some of the symptoms of the rot on your mental health that is Daily Life has become an expert on how you should think about them too and they will also kill and ostracize you for having a headcanon that maybe onions have layers sometimes and then you're just better off rambling in every text post you ever make and then deleting it because everything you've ever said has gotten a decreasing amount of notes until it's become 0 and every single one of your artist friends has followers in the thousands but still wants your pity because hating ourselves is too addictive to ever trying to be positive about anything.

like man I am BITTER!!!!!! 🤪😂🙂‍↕️🤝🥰🥴🤪☺️

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 30

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 30 under the cut

Chapter XXX:

The question remained in Fujin’s mind the morning after. As she laid, flat on her back, with May’s arm draped across her middle, she stared forward, into the dark of the abyss, and kept herself awake by pure willpower alone. It did help, she supposed, that she knew this particular morning was the one where the Agni group would depart so she did not want to miss farewells.

But her mind could not stay on that.

She kept returning to May’s comment the night before, what her princess had suggested, with full sincerity and excitement. It was not something Fujin had considered for a myriad of reasons, chief of which was that she did not feel she could afford it.

Yet, May had no trouble at all dreaming aloud.

“When all of this is over, Tiandi will be dead, right? Or gone, in some way?”

“I…suppose?” Fujin had answered as best as she could. She had no idea what their victory would look like. Knowing Pangu, she doubted he would want to actually kill Tiandi—if that was even possible. Kira, on the other hand, would gladly do so but it was always going to be Pangu’s call to make.

“Right and he makes all the rules,” May continued, “Well, everyone does what he says. Their rules are reflections of his faith and all that. So, like, if he is gone, those rules should change.”

“Do you think the land will turn to chaos?”

“No,” she huffed, “I just…if the rulers in place after Tiandi is gone are all people we know, so far, and people who like and respect Pangu then couldn’t we, I don’t know, start to make the world better for everyone? Especially for people like us?”

Fujin was almost ashamed to say she was impressed by May’s train of thought. She smiled and responded, “Look at you, thinking like a Queen.”

May shoved her in the arm but it barely made her budge. “Shut up. But, I do have Sylph’s approval so maybe I can make some laws and ask Sunny to enforce them or something. Anyway, what I am getting at is…why keep our love a sin if we are in charge at the end of this?”

“You mean decriminalize it? I believe I have heard Viren discuss wanting to do something along those lines.”

“Yeah, that, but also he is not thinking big enough,” May said with more gusto. She held out her arms and grinned from ear to ear. “Why not allow marriage? Let people like us adopt children and have families in public instead of hiding it or hiding themselves.”

The suggestion was a lot larger than Fujin expected. Her jaw slacked. “May…”

“What? Impressed?” She snickered and then grew strangely serious. “I think I can pull it off…or, Sunny can. Then, if we make everything okay then, maybe, you and I could get married.”

“Wh…” Fujin sputtered. “You…you and I?”

May nodded eagerly. “Sylph chose you too, you know. You could be Queen with me and Enlil can have three because why not?”

“You are serious…?”

“Yeah.” She went back to grinning. “Why…? Do you not want to?”

“It would be a huge change…I…I am your knight—your guard—I…”

“You could still be all of that and my wife, right?”

Fujin wished she could simply say yes, hug and kiss, and fall into bed with May but her shock still prevailed. It was so outlandish, so unbelievable, that she could not allow herself to consider it as an option. Even if she did want that outcome, she was too worried about getting her hopes up only to have them crushed later.

“Can I have time to think about it?” she asked in turn, hoping not to upset May too badly.

“If you really need to,” May mumbled, sounding more sad than angry. “If you really like being my guard that much more…”

Fujin shook her head. “How about this? After the battle, after Tiandi’s death or banishment or whatever it is that happens, I will be ready to be asked again. I think all of this is just, sort of, overwhelming.”

“Ah,” her princess snaked her arms around her neck and smirked, “I’m thinking too far ahead for you, huh?”

She sighed in relief. “Yes, yes you are.”

Praising May for being a genius and ahead of her time seemed to work in order to keep her in a pleasant mood. Fujin, however, could not stop thinking of the question. It kept her up throughout the night and still, in the morning, it plagued her mind.

Could she, really, marry May?

Not in her wildest dreams did she think it possible. Never had she even considered the idea—even when she read those princess stories about marriages and happily ever-afters. She had always just thought, “not for me”, rather than “maybe for me but with a twist”.

It was a lot, possibly too much, to adjust to so suddenly.

After what must have been an hour of staring at the ceiling, or the general vicinity of it, Fujin stirred and pushed May off of her, waking her in the process.

“Mmnn, what is happening? What time is it?”

“Early, I guess.” Fujin stepped out of the bed and stretched. She grabbed around in the dark for her discarded robe and threw it over her shoulders, trying it in the middle securely. “Get dressed, I want to check in on Phay and Loa.”

“Oh, right,” May said before audibly stumbling about. “Today is the last mission. I bet they are excited.”

Well, one of them would be eager, Fujin thought. But, with Phay’s recent relapse in her injury, she knew Loa would be more worried than anything. And, to be honest, Fujin was worried as well.

Their journey to get Sylph had not been especially labor intensive but there was no telling how things would transpire this time. With the certainty now that Merra’s Agni disciple would be present, there was a good chance that a fight would break out.

Phay was not prepared for a fight.

She would argue that, of course, but she was not.

Once May was dressed, they made their way down the tunnels, thankful for the few spots of candles and the glowing mushrooms to guide their way. Like usual, May poked the meat of the fungi as they passed by, acting as if she would lick her finger after. Since she only did it to rile Fujin, she made sure to slap her hand every time. And, like always, the princess giggled and wiped her finger off on the side of her robe.

Fujin pulled back the curtain on Phay and Loa’s room after May asked, “Are you both decent?” to which they replied, exasperated, “Yes.”

There was more light in their room, more candles, and Phay sat on the edge of their cot while Loa stood in front of her, fastening her chest plate into place.

Loa did not seem too happy to be helping Phay dress in her armor but she continued on reluctantly. That was the first thing Fujin really took note of and the second was the sling Phay had taken to wearing again. At least she was doing that, she thought.

“Good morning,” May chirped and made herself comfortable on the floor, sitting with her legs crossed.

“Morning,” Loa responded, glancing over to them for just a second before refocusing on her work. She gave the straps a few tugs before patting Phay on the back and sighing. “There.”

“Thank you,” Phay told her with a gentle smile.

“Do not thank me,” Loa rebounded, “I should not be encouraging you to go…”

“My arm will stay in the sling. I promise.”

“It better,” Fujin said before Loa could. “Pangu is going to be watching you like a hawk.”

Phay laughed through her nose and rubbed the side of her bad arm. “I really thought it was healed up, alright? I was not trying to be stubborn or ‘make it heal faster’.”

The three looked at her, disbelieving.

“What?” the lord frowned. “I was not. I was just…testing the limitations.”

Loa sighed. “Well, if you keep testing it before you are told it is healed, you will live the rest of your life with that sling. And then what? I get to hear you complain about it forever?”

Fujin tensed while May started to chuckle, thankfully breaking the tension somewhat rather than making it worse.

“Should we leave?” The princess asked, “Or, do you need help? I know a thing or two about stubborn women, you know.”

“I am the stubborn one?” Fujin countered with an arched eyebrow.

“You are stubborn,” May insisted.

“Who was the one who had to be spoon fed for a week, just out of spite, because her etiquette tutor critiqued her use of utensils?”

Loa snickered and Phay, more loudly, laughed.

“How old were you?” the lord asked.

“I was a kid,” May attempted to dismiss it.

Fujin, however, cut her off, “She was fifteen.”

“That tutor was a bitch and it was the only way to prove my point. You helped.” May pointed, accusing.

“I did not want you to starve.”

Phay shook her head. “Perhaps none of us have room to talk.”

“Oh no,” Loa scolded, “Do not try to worm your way out of being the subject here. You are the most stubborn person I have ever met and I will be watching you constantly when we head out.”

“I know, I know. You, Pangu, probably your brother as well…” The lord sighed and stood up, her cape following behind her.

As she did so, a soft rapping came from outside of the room. A knuckle against rock. “Are you two ready?” Baiya called out.

“You can come in,” Loa said and stepped back to open up more space in the room.

Baiya and Pangu both walked in, taking a moment to acknowledge Fujin and May before focusing, primarily, on Phay. “Are you sure you are okay to go?” Baiya asked.

Phay pointed to her sling. “The arm is staying in and I am going.”

“You can sit this one out, if you are not feeling up to it,” he tried to insist but the lord adamantly shook her head.

“I. Am. Going.”

“She is,” Pangu seconded and smiled over at her. “We will need her, I suspect.”

“You think Salamander is going to choose to link with her?” Fujin guessed.

“It is a possibility,” he replied and set his hands on his hips. “I certainly cannot discount the likelihood nor the importance if that is to be the case. Therefore, I need her to come with us.”

“See?” Phay gestured with her good arm at the Xiang. “He respects me.”

Loa rolled her eyes. “I respect you as well—I just worry.”

“Kira and I will be there,” Baiya said, “If there is to be any fighting, we will take care of it.”

“You seem pretty eager,” May noted.

“My brother missed adventuring with everyone,” Loa responded with a sideways smirk, “Especially Kira.”

“No. Especially Pangu.” Baiya glanced down at him and gave him a small nudge with his elbow.

Pangu laughed, more to himself than anything. As sweet as the comment was, he knew it was not exactly true. Baiya had been waiting for his turn to leave the caves and go on a mission with them mostly because he did miss running around with Kira. And Kira, for all of his fronting, felt about the same.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

*

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

*

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

*

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

*

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

*

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

*

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

*

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 5.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage

A/N: Shout out to my squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @underthejoon for always spitballing ideas with me and reading over what I have written. I’m seriously so lucky to have my girls and my heart is so full with them around <3

Also the beautiful banner is by @xjoonchildx so now we have two gorgeous banners to alternate every other chapter! I’m so happyyyyyy!! Enjoy guys!

It's usually relaxed Sundays at the Yu penthouse like God intended them to be but instead this Sunday was filled with raucous screaming and over dramatic whining which you aren't exactly used to.

"Leena." Jin warns, almost as if he's speaking to a child. 

You watch as your best friend takes the stuffed animal you won at the Fall Festival out of it's cardboard box before chucking it back onto your unmade bed. It's her act of defiance and it warms your heart slightly to know how much she loves you.

"Relax, would you?" Jin asks, wrapping a painting of yours in bubble wrap.

"No." She huffs out as she folds her arms. 

You find yourself smirking as you wrap your arms around her. She stiffens slightly before melting into the hug and rocking you from side to side.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" She chants bitterly as Jin sets the painting against the wall.

"Why don't you tell us about your date with Taehyung?" Jin offers, trying to take her mind off of it.

"No." She replies childishly as she hugs you tighter.

Jin sighs gently as he picks up the contract. It's a thick packet with words and legal jargon you find yourself unable to understand.

"I'm going to go read this in the living room. Leena, come with me." Jin commands and she pouts at you as she pulls away.

"At least he bought her pretty things." She grumbles to your other best friend as she follows him out of your bedroom.

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in the almost empty room. Your heart feels heavy in this moment. It's been almost six years since you moved into this apartment with Leena. 

This new journey will be the start to something extremely different from your norm. This will be the first time that you won't be seeing your best friend everyday, or when you wake up in the morning. It's jarring and more importantly frightening.

You had already quit your managerial position at the hospital, you've already packed up all of the things deemed "acceptable" for Yoongi's home. It really is a new path for your life.

Your parents loved you so very dearly from when you were quite young. They always knew what to say and what to do, always pushed for you to do the right things quite like them. They worked so hard for you to have a better life than they did when they were young. 

You can only hope to be as good of a parent as they were. 

Telling them you were pregnant was terrifying at first. You expected them to be disappointed with you. But, surprisingly, they were supportive. It was incredibly comforting, because no matter what happens you could count on them.

Looking down at your flat stomach, although you don't look different, you feel different. With a sigh, you close your eyes for a fraction of a second before taking in a deep breath.

Everyone keeps telling you to be strong, to have strength and everything will work out but unfortunately it isn't that easy. 

"Hey Y/N." Jin whispers as he leans against the door frame.

Opening your eyes, you give him a smile to try and tell him you're alright.

"The contract looks good. Namjoon did right by you." He tells you, holding up the packet and a pen.

You hold your hands out and he enters the room.

You can hear Leena's feet stomping down the long hallway as you put the packet on your lap. 

She arrives in the doorway with a martini in hand and you tilt your head to her as she scowls. 

"You can't have sex? Is he serious?" She scoffs.

You give a smirk as you sign the contract, "Seems like it. I asked him if I could have sex with him because he's the father and he sat there and literally told me he doesn't understand why I would have sex if I'm pregnant. He seemed repulsed." 

"I'll punch him in the dick." Leena murmurs into her martini glass.

"Yu Leena." Jin scolds as you set the pen down on your lap. 

"What?! He's a huge fucking dick suck." She says waving him off with her hand.

Both you and Jin snort loudly and he lays his head on your shoulder before hugging you tightly. 

"I'm gonna miss you, princess." He whispers.

"Me too." You mumble as you wrap your arms around his.

"Shouldn't you let the madam buy the child's furniture?" Yoongi hears Maya ask over his shoulder as he scours through the furniture website.

"If her ability to pick out furniture is as bad as her clothing or her shoes, my heir will end up sleeping in a rickety old basket made out of straw and hair." He retorts as she hands him his Irish coffee.

He hears her gentle sigh and he knows it's because somehow, something he said had disappointed her.

"What's wrong, Maya?" He asks as he locks the iPad, throwing it on the other side of the couch to look up at her.

She hums undecidedly before looking down at him as he sips his coffee, "Maybe try to be nice to her. She's going to have a hard time being pregnant in this household with your wife here." 

Her suggestion makes a shiver run up his spine. Just hearing the word pregnant sends him into some deep spiral.

Maya always has been kind hearted. She's always been understanding of others. Even if they don't deserve it.

Like with Sera, Maya will bust her ass to try to make the leech smile even if she gets sneers and snarky remarks in turn. 

She's too pure for this world. Too amazing for this cheap lifestyle.

"I am being nice to her. She gets to move in here." He responds as he sets the coffee cup down on his marble table.

“Min Yoongi.” Maya breathes out above a whisper before closing her eyes.

He watches her brow furrow with shame and he clears his throat uncomfortably before looking around the open gallery of the mansion to try and find any reason for her to leave.

“I didn’t raise you this way. You know that.” The older woman chides as she dusts off some of the priceless paintings that line the walls beside where he sits. 

He lets out a gentle snort as he leans back into the chaise lounge. 

“At least someone raised me, right?” He quips to her as he looks out the bay windows.

The garden seems well tended as of late, after the last fiasco with the uneven hedges he appreciates how much work his new gardeners have put into it.

He begins to wonder what you enjoy, what your hobbies are besides getting pounded in the back of your best friends club. Do you enjoy the finer things? Like yachting or horse racing? Do you even know what they are? Just how sheltered are you?

“What do poor people like? Swap meets?” Yoongi asks as he watches the rose bushes sway in the wind. 

“Yoongi.” Maya whispers dejectedly and he turns his head to her before shrugging. 

“Just asking.” He murmurs as a sparrow lands on the marble bird bath beside the window. 

“Why don’t you just try to get to know her? Ask her things like that without being rude.” Maya replies as she turns to him.

With a grimace, he finishes his coffee before handing the cup to her, “Why do I have to get to know her?”

“Oh my goodness.” Maya mumbles as she leaves the gallery. 

The billionaire watches her leave before slowly turning back to the window to stare aimlessly for a little while longer.

He's always been so jaded, always been so absolutely fucking ruthless because if he didn't protect himself from the outside world who would?

And even if it causes rifts, he just has to be this way. Because you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The sounds of construction break him out of his thoughts. The contract must have gone through to Namjoon, if your room was already being renovated. Kira must have called and set up everything like she was supposed to.

It's a good thing she isn't just good for her tight snatch. 

Standing up with a groan, he stretches high up to the ceiling. He can hear and feel his bones popping and groaning to welcome a new day in front of him.

As he steps onto the heated marble flooring of the second floor, he knows he should be getting ready for work yet instead his curiosity begins to eat at him. 

What is your room starting to look like? How about the kids room? 

Walking past his walk-in closet, he can see dust and wood shavings on the floor in the hallway. His first thought is to curse out the constructors and threaten them if even a single wooden shard enters his room. But, before he can even open his mouth the shrill voice of his wife enters his ears.

"MIN YOONGI!" He can feel his brain rattling around in his skull, like a cry for help. He sighs loudly, it's really not a surprise that she can be even louder than the construction right in front of him.

Turning to her, he takes in her half asleep look. Her sleeping mask is stuck to her forehead, her black hair jutting out on all sides as she narrows her big, doll-like eyes at him.

"Some people are trying to sleep!" She screeches from the entrance of her wing in the mansion.

He chuckles to himself at her disheveled state and proceeds into his closet to get ready for work.

It probably won't end at that. And, he is absolutely correct.

Peeling off his sleep shirt, his eyes meet his wife's through the mirror as she storms into the room.

"I need beauty sleep, asshole!" She yells at him and he stares at her for a fraction of a second before clicking his teeth and tilting his head.

"You don't need beauty sleep, I paid for that face, leech." He deadpans.

His body is quick to duck out of the way as she takes the nearest object to the door before lobbing it at his head. 

"Did you do as I told you?" She asks, watching him grab his crisp white work shirt.

He doesn't reply, which in turn makes her repeat the same question louder with a high shrill added to her tone.

She's always been impatient and bratty. Once which was endearing to him is now like nails on a chalkboard.

"Hello?! I'm speaking to you! Answer me, asshole!" She yells as she snaps her fingers in his face.

Pressing his tongue to his cheek, he lets out a gentle snort before taking a deep inhale through his nose.

"When do I ever just do as you tell me to, Sera? When has that ever been a goal of mine?" He asks as he grabs his pinstriped tailored pants to match his shirt.

"What? So you didn't?" She asks, clearly shocked.

"Of course I didn't, what are you? Insane? Stupid? I'm a dick but I'm not heartless." He retorts.

"No! Just heartless to me!" She cries out angrily and he chuckles to himself as he grabs a tie.

"I'm sure you'll survive." He mumbles as he pulls the drawer full of his watches open. He watches them spin on their platforms before picking a black Rolex that would go nicely with his pants.

"The plan was for you to make her say that she's my surrogate! Since I'm so beautiful and so famous, she would be carrying my child instead!" Just hearing her ridiculous plan again makes him almost as uncomfortable as the first time he heard it.

In all honesty, as soon as those words left her mouth he didn't even entertain the idea. It seemed so wholly horrible and so absolutely fucking selfish. But, this is Sera we're talking about.

"That was your plan. You think I would ever force her or anyone to have to go in front of people and say their kid isn't their own? Jesus Christ. You really are a fucking leech." He spits out.

"But! But, she's going to use you for your money! She's going to ruin everything!" She screams above the incessant construction.

The sentence sends something akin to fire flaming throughout his gut.

"Well, leech, it's not like I'm not used to being used for my money. If anything you can teach her first hand what it's like to milk me like a money cow." Her mouth opens slightly, as if she's appalled by the notion.

It's then that his patience snaps like a thin twig beneath weight.

"Do you want to see my dick?" He asks briskly.

"Ew! What? No, of course not!" She yells at him as he gathers his clothes onto one arm.

"Then get the fuck out. I have to get ready for work." She stomps her foot loudly as if in protest but he brushes by her without a word back to his bedroom.

"Fucking money grubbing leech." He whispers to himself as he slams his bedroom door closed behind him.

Thursday nights were appointed for one thing in Min Yoongi's eyes. Poker.

The library which he barely ever entered as well as his wife that couldn't read more than ten words without having a seizure was always occupied on Thursdays. 

Usually, the other five members of his social circle were always present but today he only had the pleasure of four of them.

"I love that Maya deals." Taehyung chuckles as he pulls the pile of poker chips in the middle of the table towards him.

Yoongi snorts gently, clamping the cigar between his teeth tighter as he stacks his chips with one hand.

"Maya, can I please have some more ice?" Namjoon asks softly as he holds up the bucket.

"Oh of course!" She says quickly as she takes the bucket from him.

Taehyung and Jimin watch her leave before slyly smirking to Yoongi as he leans back in his chair with a groan. The way they look at him makes him feel like prey in a baron forest.

"What?" He murmurs as he pulls the cigar from his mouth.

The tips of Taehyung's fingers slide over the green felt table as he lifts his glass of whisky.

"I heard something interesting about you." He replies to his older friend.

Namjoon clears his throat uncomfortably as he crosses his legs beneath the lip of the table. 

"Oh yeah? What's that? Something about my board of trustees?" Yoongi asks with a laugh as he picks up his own glass.

"Not so much." Jimin murmurs as he ashes his cigar.

"Heard you got a girl pregnant." Yoongi chokes on his whisky as he hears Taehyung's smooth voice. His eyes widen and he spins his chair around to dab at his mouth. 

His blood runs cold as the hotel CEO chuckles behind him. It scares the ever living shit out of him and he hates that.

"Where'd you hear that?" He asks gently, his voice audibly shaking as he turns back around.

"A little after I pulled my dick out of Yu Leena's tight ass." Jimin snickers at the admission and Yoongi closes his eyes in defeat.

"You won't say anything, right?" Namjoon asks quietly as he looks over at his best friend.

Hoseok, Yoongi's other best friend since childhood had only recently found out about you and his heir. While he was surprised, he was always loyal to the CEO and Yoongi knew he could count on his silence.

"I definitely won't. I like it when Leena comes over and if I say anything she won't let me take her to France in two weeks." The Kisung Connected CEO sighs in relief at the younger man's admission.

Maya returns with the ice and it gets quiet for a bit, just the gentle sounds of ice clinking against glass and poker chips smacking into each other resound throughout the large library.

"Leena loves her, y'know. She never shuts up about her. I feel like I know her with how much Leena tells me." Taehyung says as he rubs two poker chips together between his fingers.

This peaks his curiosity as he begins to relax into the chair once more.

"What does she say?" Yoongi asks softly and he watches as Maya smirks gently. Her motions are soft and smooth as she deals the cards. 

"About Y/N? That she's really sweet and kind. She works really hard and enjoys simple things like most poor people." Humming inquisitively, he lifts his whisky glass to his lips to ponder that thought.

"Simple things? Like?" Taehyung rolls his eyes at Yoongi's question.

"Yeah. Simple things. She likes to paint and to watch romantic movies. She enjoys cooking and other poor people shit." 

He begins to wonder how well you can paint. If you were any good at it.

"She's really sweet." Namjoon adds and Yoongi grimaces in his direction.

Noticing his grimace, the lawyer shrugs with a smirk.

"Is she the girl that was with Leena on her birthday?" Jimin asks and both Yoongi and Taehyung nod at the same time.

"Oh dude! She's so fucking hot! I can't believe you got to her before me!" Hearing those words roll off of his friend's tongue sets him in an uncomfortable state.

His body leans away from Jimin's as he clutches the cigar tighter between his index and middle finger.

"So she's moving in here?" Jimin asks happily.

"In two days. Yes. We have to go to the doctor and then she'll be in the mansion." 

Hoseok nudges Namjoon as they watch their best friend move uncomfortably. 

Yoongi loosens his tie around his neck, his face and chest begin to feel incredibly hot and flush. He can feel the sweat building on his hairline as he uncuffs his cufflinks. 

"Maya." He whispers as he holds them out over the table. 

Swallowing thickly, he stares down into his glass as the ice clinks against the crystal sides.

"You're lucky she's moving in. Now you'll have constant pussy." Jimin says as he scrolls through Leena's Instagram. 

The concept is completely foreign to Yoongi, "She's pregnant. Why would I fuck her?" 

Namjoon chuckles to himself gently as he looks at his cards, he tosses a few chips into the center of the table before looking pointedly at his best friend.

"Because man, pregnant pussy feels so much better than regular pussy. Plus, she's carrying your baby. That's fucking hot." Yoongi sneers at Jimin, the corner of his upper lip flicking upward at the notion.

"You're a fucking short little weirdo, Park Jimin." Yoongi's sentence comes out just a bit more acidic than he means it to but he doesn't apologize.

If anything the small flames of anger seem to burnish brighter as Jimin chuckles to himself. Park has always been so sure of himself, so absolutely ruthless in getting what he wants. But, you weren't his to have.

"If you aren't going to fuck her right, can I?" He asks as he tosses chips into the middle of the table. 

Yoongi's hand grips into a fist, the edges of the chips he holds make uncomfortable indents into his skin as he focuses on Maya's face to calm himself down.

"Whoa. Jimin." Hoseok mumbles as Jimin laughs.

"Calm down hyung. I'm just playing with you. I'll just ask her out on a date and we'll see where it goes." Yoongi chuckles to himself.

He can't begin to understand why it bothers him so much to hear those words. Maybe it's because you're being treated flippantly or maybe it's because you were his. Or, should be his anyway. You were having his child. Doesn't that make you off limits?

But he was better than this. He was better than letting small, simple things beneath his skin.

"She won't say yes. She's pregnant with my baby." He says as he chucks his chips into the center of the table roughly.

"We'll see. If she does say yes, just know I'll treat your baby mama with a lot of respect...as I rearrange her guts with the head of my cock." Jimin and Taehyung chortle loudly as they knock their shoulders into one another. 

Scoffing gently, he downs the rest of his whisky before wiping the back of his hand over his lips.

It takes all of his restraint to not get out of his chair and punch the shorter man in the face. It takes every single ounce of strength to just stay seated and look as if he's calm while on the inside he's burning bright with red hot rage.

"You watch your fucking mouth, Jimin. She's the mother of my child." He says as he points his finger over the lip of his glass at the younger man.

The laughs die down as they notice just how deadly serious he is. 

"Oh, now you care about her? Seemed like she was going to be just another leech ten minutes ago." Jimin chuckles as he speaks his words and Namjoon's eyes flutter shut in defeat.

"Yeah well, if she was to be a leech. She would be my leech. Not yours. You watch your fucking mouth when you talk about the mother of my baby in this fucking house, do you understand me?" He doesn't even understand where this rage is coming from. He can't begin to process it, but he doesn't miss the smile that creeps onto Maya's face as he defends your honor.

Jimin holds his hands up with a laugh as he clenches his cigar between his teeth. 

"Calm down Yoongi. I'm just fucking with you. I don't want to fuck your poor baby mama, alright?" 

Namjoon sits up fast as Yoongi goes to stand up, "Let's just all relax. Calm down." He tells his best friend as he puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Get out." He says aloud as he brushes Namjoon's hand off his shoulder.

Jimin looks up at Yoongi as Maya gently sets the cards down on the felt table. 

"Oh Yoongi. Come on, I was fucking around." He says half heartedly.

"I'm done for the night. Get the fuck out." He burns his cigar out before opening up the library doors.

Everyone stands and thanks Maya softly before heading out one by one. Yoongi catches Jimin by the shoulder as he leaves last.

His hand clasps roughly around his skin and Jimin cringes at the sharp pain, "You keep her fucking name out of your goddamn mouth. Do you understand me? Don't you dare ever disrespect her in this household again. Or, I'll release those pictures of you at your bachelor party to Dispatch. You keep your dick away from where it doesn't belong in this house."

The threat sends Jimin's eyes widening a fraction before he collects his composure, "I got it. Relax." He says before pulling his shoulder away and patting the older man's arm.

Taking a deep breath, he looks around the library before meeting Maya's gaze as she clears the cards off of the poker table.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that nasty stuff." He apologizes and her nose wrinkles sweetly as she smiles.

"Now that, that is how I raised you." He smirks gently at her praise before pocketing his hands and looking down at the floor.

"Can you order some paint brushes and canvas?" He asks softly.

"Oh of course! For you? You don't paint." Maya asks, her voice is riddled with confusion as she stacks the poker chips back in the oak box.

"No, I don't but Y/N does." He mumbles and Maya smiles widely before nodding. 

"Of course I'll order her some painting materials! That's a great idea, Yoongs!" Seeing her, the woman who has raised him, get so excited about it makes him feel almost drunk off of delight.

But, then he gets brought down to Earth once more as he hears his wife giggle from the kitchen. 

"Thanks, Maya." He mumbles as he sets off to his wing of the mansion. He eyes Hoseok chatting up his wife as they both lean against the bar and he snorts to himself in disbelief. At least someone would be getting laid tonight.

The problem with having a wife that sees other people is just how loud sex can get when you're not involved. 

At one point Yoongi craved to be in Hoseok's position. He was dying to get in between Sera's legs albeit she was annoying and bratty since they were kids. He had a genuinely real crush on her that dissolved into distaste and pure hatred in a matter of moments.

Even across the whole mansion, he can hear her getting fucked like there's no tomorrow and he grimaces while turning to the window as he lays in bed. 

"Music up to ninety percent." He calls out in the room and the volume of the classical piano piece rises quickly to drown out the feral noises of sex from the other wing in the mansion.

Pulling out his phone, he begins to scroll through Instagram before finding Leena's page. There were so many posts with just you and her or you, her and Seokjin. Your smile was pretty. He takes into account that you haven't really smiled around him all that much but he can understand why. 

He can remember your giggle too, when you were in Namjoon's office. It was soft and gentle, like hummingbird wings. The noise instantly made him relax and he can remember how his eyes fluttered shut just upon hearing it.

You weren't a bad person. You weren't trying to trap him-- he could see it on your face when you had lunch. You were genuinely mortified. So fucking frightened. And, even though he doesn't know you, you don't deserve that.

You don't deserve to be terrified of him or anyone. 

He can see in most of these pictures, you're wearing borrowed things. The Chanel, the Balenciaga, the Gucci-- it was all Leenas and none of it was your own. 

How fucking depressing must that be? Did Leena make you wear her clothes or did you ask her to borrow some in order to not feel poor and unworthy around others? 

Sighing gently, he presses his face deeper into the pillow as he continues to scroll.

Maybe he shouldn't treat you like another Sera. But, he doesn't trust a single person. He's learned to lock his heart away in an iron cage after Sera so brutally stepped on him.

He's not sure if he could ever truly open up to someone else that isn't the woman who raised him.

Next Chapter --->

Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @laabellaavitaa21, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​, @jooniebugg​, @eltrain80​, @btsmylife21​, @deeepvibes​

Some people couldn’t be tagged, I’m so sorry about that!

[anton-the-cock]

As a Georgian, I can understand very well where you’re coming from. Russians as people aren’t immune to criticism. I’m sorry, but disliking your government isn’t activism and you aren’t a hero for that. However protesting, spreading information in order to help victims out and donating to Ukrainian charities makes your activism good and useful. I have yet to see anti-Putin protests happening and I’m hoping they will, but for now I’m going to heavily criticize Russians, who aren’t doing anything help.

Posting “I’m sowwy, I’m so ashamed uwu 👉👈” isn’t helping. That is guilt tripping. I’m not going to lick your wounds. This kind of strange pretend self-hate posts are just manipulative and I’m getting second hand embarrassment from them. Just share donation links, condemn your government and try to help out as much as you can without putting on a soap opera

Exactly! There's so much "uwu Ukrainians are being mean to me" from Russians, like, excuse me??? We all are in an emotional state you can't even begin to imagine, moving on pure adrenaline, thinking about things no person has to ever be forced to consider and you dare make it ABOUT YOURSELF??? I don't give a fuck how rude Ukrainians are to Russians, we surely aren't going to their homes and killing them

Many Russians not only do nothing, they DEMAND that Ukrainians are being gentle and considerate of their feelings™ and calm them down because they feel so guilty. But how about that: Russians must feel guilty, they must feel ashamed, they must feel sorry because that is what any decent human will feel in a situation like that. And they just gotta live with those feelings, instead of trying to relax. I certainly can't relax, Ukrainians certainly can't relax

There were some protests in a Russian cities, finally, after a full-fledged war breaking out but honestly, I can't be happy about their 'peaceful protests' anymore. A day ago I would say those people are worthy of praise but now it's a bit too late to be peaceful. God, they say they live in a dictatorship and yet all their protests are peaceful. You can't ASK dictator to stop oppression! Start throwing Molotov's cocktails goddamit. And no, Russia is not the only country in this world where you can be killed for protesting! 8 years ago, people in Ukraine were killed for protesting!!! And now many (even liberal) Russians trash-talk our protests for being "too violent" lmao

I also think Russians SEVERELY underestimate the amount of Russians who are imperialists and pro-Putin. For the most part, people whom you see speaking in English are liberal (for a Russian) and they lock themselves up in their liberal bubble and they are unable to see that no, actually, the majority of Russians are not anti-Putin anti-imperialists. And even when they are anti-Putin, do they hate him for the discomfort he causes to them or for his military aggression? The polls from the independent centre Levada I saw showed that more than 70% of Russia are actually totally ok if not happy about the occupation of Crimea. I also saw a poll by CNN claiming 50% of Russians supported war with Ukraine under at least two different pretexts. Who am I supposed to believe: random Russian on the Internet who tricked themselves into believing all of Russia agrees with them or statistics? Funny things, I've just opened a website of Levada centre, and look at that, they say that in the latest poll 69% of Russians approve of Putin

Do I think there are good Russians? Yes. Do I think the majority of Russians are good? No. Do I think I have a moral responsibility to be polite and gentle to Russians? Heck no

I am so sowwy uwu how dare you to make me feel negative emotions when my countwy is shelling your hospitals and kindergartens uwu

Thanks for your message, mate 🇬🇪🤝🇺🇦 Russia occupied both our countries and it will pay for its crimes

[allygodot]

Taking Accountability

My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee. I’m a 27 years old graduate of Chicago Law School living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am a heterosexual Christian, but am an ally to the LGBT community. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. These are all things my followers should know about me, so why am I telling you this? Well... what if I told you it was all a lie? I’m sure this is coming as a shock to a lot of you, and I sincerely apologize to everyone I’ve hurt with my deception. It is my hope that this post will clear up any misconceptions that have been spread about me, whether I spread them myself or otherwise, and that in the future there will be no animosity between us. I don’t expect to be forgiven nor do I deserve it, but if there is one thing I learned from my time in the church it is that all I can do is ask for mercy and hope for the best. But first... I think an explanation is in order. If all that isn’t the truth, then what is? It all starts in college, that nebulous period of my life that everyone keeps asking about and I keep bringing up. Before I went to university, I had always been completely unremarkable. I had always had the kind of fair weather friends who enjoyed my company, but never felt to invested in me. Combined with my status as a middle child, I always felt like I had something to prove to get people to like me. I would say and think whatever I needed to for them to stick around another day, and I’m sure you are familiar with what that means for teenage boys. I acted immaturely because it was what was expected... and anything outside of that was looked down upon it even forbidden. I never thought much of it at the time, but I realize now that I wasn’t allowed much self-expression when I was always trying to conform to their standards. Everything changed when I met him. My assigned college roommate, Anton, was everything my years of conditioning had taught me to distrust. Despite his tall stature, he was emotional and sensitive... even vulnerable. Even so, he wasn’t afraid to be unabashedly himself. The first thing that struck me as unusual about him was his clothing... he almost always wore pastel pink or yellow and I hardly ever saw him without his long, checkered scarf. His nails were always painted with a clear, glittery polish, and I don’t think he ever skipped a shower in his life. His hair was always soft and smelled like strawberry even at a distance... all this to say he immediately struck me as fruity so I wanted nothing to do with him, at least initially. Despite his kindness to me, I would always respond with either the cold shoulder or open scorn, which only amplified the more I learned about him. I discovered pretty quickly that he was a furry, since one day I came home from a day of classes to find a decapitated pink cat head on our couch. He patiently explained the whole culture to me while I glared at him skeptically, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He even brought out his paws and tail and told me he was saving up for a full suit despite my open disgust. Looking back, I still have no clue why he put up with me during that time. Another curious aspect of Anton’s life was his addiction to a certain television series called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” His room was filled with merchandise from stuffed animals to figurines, and I had nothing but disdain for the tacky and embarrassing decoration. I was afraid that if I ever brought a girl over to our apartment she would notice and make all sorts of incorrect assumptions... I couldn’t handle the embarrassment. I tried on multiple occasions to convince him to hide them in a secret box or something, but he always just smiled and shook his head. I even tried to sneak into his room and collect all the ponies for donation once, but he had anticipated this and hid a playful trap for me... I reached forward to grab one of his overpriced statues and immediately got a face full of multi-colored snakes. I was livid of course, despite it being my own fault for trying to pawn of his collection in the first place, but he wasn’t even phased by my tirade. I suppose he was 6’5” and I was (and still am) only 5′7″... but still, I had at least expected him to be somewhat apologetic if not fearful. Instead, he just laughed and told me I should watch the show with him sometime. I obviously had no intentions of taking him up on his ludicrous offer... until he promised that if I didn’t enjoy the show, he would move all of his ponies into a case that he would throw a big curtain on whenever I said the word. I reluctantly agreed on those conditions, positive that this was a bet I couldn’t lose. I still remember that night like it was yesterday. He lead me into the pony chamber and sat down on his bed, taking out his laptop to pull up his favorite episode. It was “The Canterlot Wedding” two part season finale, and although I initially protested that I only agreed to watch one episode, I eventually relented once he reminded me what the prize was. I was hesitant to sit beside him on his bed and lean over his shoulder to look at the small screen, but he assured me that it didn’t bother him at all. I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he felt about it... it was more so my own pride I was worried about. Nevertheless, I sat through the whole episode with him despite myself. Although I was disturbed by the tendency for his long and curly hair to gravitate into my mouth while I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I found the episode to be surprisingly enjoyable. The song in particular surprised me with it’s musicality... by the end of it I didn’t want to leave, but I was far too embarrassed to admit that to him earnestly. I told him I was interested in the show purely for the songs and that it could benefit my studies as a music major, but that he still had to uphold his end of the bargain since I was by no means enjoying it. He just smiled and put on another episode, and before I knew it the sun was rising outside his window. I realized just how tired I was and turned to tell him I would be going to bed only to discover he had fallen asleep. I began to suspect that he must have been asleep for several hours, letting the auto-play functionality do his job for him while he rested up for his exams. Although I was scandalized, I was impressed by his tactical prowess... he had managed to trap me in his room, since I couldn’t move from my spot without disturbing his slumber, and he didn’t even have to be awake to do it. Begrudgingly, I spent the rest of his room, until eventually the faint aroma of strawberries lured me into the world of dreams... This arrangement continued for quite some time. When I got home from my classes, Anton would ask me if I wanted to watch some My Little Pony with him and I only agreed so long as he put the curtain over the cabinet next time I asked. He always obliged whenever I asked him to conceal his collection, but eventually I stopped asking for him to do so and only reminded him not to break our contract before every episode out of habit. It became a ritual for the two of us to do this every night, and even once we had finished all of the episodes we would just watch them again. I found that I was becoming endeared to this eccentric man... and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell a bit in my chest whenever he would run his fingers through his hair or tighten his scarf around his neck. I told myself it was nothing... but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. I don’t know what possessed me, but one night I thought I would get to know Anton a little better. I started by asking if he was single, which to me seemed like an innocuous question, but the very fact I was asking seemed to amuse him. He told me that he was having trouble finding a guy who wasn’t immediately turned off by all the ponies, and I made sure to snidely comment that he shouldn’t be going out with guys anyway even though it made my heart skip a beat when he said that, as well as mention that if he would just give up his collection there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he asked me the same thing: how was my love life going, especially considering my new hobby? I couldn’t help but get flustered and start making excuses. I told him that there was no shortage of girls lined up to date me, but that I just wasn’t ready to make a commitment yet. I spun a whole story about how a girlfriend would only hold me back... I almost forgot that the standard that Anton accepted was completely different from my old teenage friends. He wasn’t impressed that girls were apparently lining up to get a piece of me... he just seemed amused that I thought such a thing was realistic, much less desirable. He didn’t understand that compulsive need to lie at all... he thought it would be better if more guys admitted that they were vulnerable. That was the first time I’d ever heard someone say something like that... I suddenly felt extremely exposed, and before I knew it my eyes were full of tears. My first instinct was to cover my face with my sleeve and hide my shame, but he was already firmly gripping my arm and holding it in place. He told me that I didn’t need to hide anything from him. He asked me if there was anything he could do to help me... and so for what felt like the first time in my life, I told the truth. It was supposed to be just to try it. I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, I just thought that if I got it out of my system all of the unnecessary feelings would finally stop tormenting me... but all they did was grow stronger. I kept telling him that I was still looking for a girlfriend and that once I got one this whole arrangement would end, but eventually I realized that there was no point in lying to myself anymore. I wasn’t ever even sleeping in my own room anymore. I hadn’t so much as glanced at any dating websites in weeks. I was committed, whether I wanted to admit it or not... and I didn’t want to admit it. I only wish that I had told him how I really felt when I had the chance... One of the many things we started to share, which seemed the most inconsequential to me at the time, was a webpage. Anton was the owner of a small subreddit dedicated to My Little Pony fursuits, and he asked me if I would be willing to help him moderate. It wasn’t something I felt qualified to speak as an authority on, since even as I became more open about my love for ponies I still didn’t really feel connected to furry culture despite accompanying him to several conventions, but I was willing to do basically anything just to please him. My job was mostly to stop people from publicly “yiffing,” and although it was a grueling line of work it wasn’t thankless. Anton was a poet with words of affirmation. Many of the compliments he paid me were certainly undeserved, but they motivated me more than anything else ever had... but I got too zealous. There was a certain user on the server who for the sake of protecting privacy, we shall call XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX. As a member of the subreddit they were of course a brony and a furry, but what made them stand out was their dedication to the Flutterdash ship. They were constantly posting couple’s cosplays of themselves dressed as Rainbow Dash, but the Fluttershy in each picture was always different. They were also exceptionally sociable and aggressively tried to make friends with everyone on the tiny subreddit... Anton and I included. I wasn’t so keen on pursuing another friendship that could very well ruin my reputation, but of course Anton was immediately taken with the idea. The two of them exchanged contacts and hit it off instantly, and I started having trouble sleeping at night because he was awake in the early hours of the morning texting his friend in another timezone. He always paid me just as much attention as always during the daytime, but once he saw that his new friend was online he would crawl out of bed to go converse with them in another room. He was trying so hard to be considerate of me, and perhaps it was selfish for me to expect that I would always be able to sense his warmth and scent beside me while I slept... but at the time I was blinded by jealousy. One fateful morning, he excitedly woke me up to tell me that XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX had gifted him tickets to a major convention, and that the two of them were planning to cosplay Flutterdash together. He apologetically explained that he would be gone for a few days since the convention was halfway across the country, but sensing the disturbance within me he assured me that he could probably convince his friend to let me tag along as Applejack... she was always my least favorite. It didn’t matter what Anton said to encourage me, because I was never going to accept any consolation until this threat to our sacred relationship was eliminated. I had to find a way to get rid of XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX by any means necessary... In a fit of rage, I whipped out the ban hammer and beat my rival to death with it, metaphorically speaking. It was a blatant abuse of my privilege as a moderator and I am ashamed to admit it now... but at the time all that mattered was covering up the evidence. I knew I had to come up with an excuse for why I had banned them, so I added a new rule to the subreddit: Flutterdash was prohibited. The news was not met with acceptance from the other members of the community. To some more in the loop with the situation, it was obvious that I had only banned XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX because of a petty personal dispute, but others saw it as nothing but an unfair rule. I was accused of being biased towards other ships like Flutterchord or Appledash and that I needed to accept other people’s ship preferences, or even that I was homophobic and couldn’t handle the thought of lesbian characters in my favorite show. Chants of “mods are gay�� could be heard across the subreddit from all sides of the debate, and everyone was rallying for Anton to remove me as a tyrannical moderator. Sound familiar? I can’t help but notice some similarities between my situation and Mo the one over at Kristahlia Week... maybe that is why the drama captivated me so.  Anton tried to reason with me, bless his heart, but at this point I had completely devolved back into my screaming teenager mentality to cope with all the rejection. He was obviously disappointed in me for what I had done but he had no reason to believe it would ruin us... he couldn’t have handled it better. It really was my fault that things happened the way they did, but I refused to take accountability. What I told him still haunts my conscience to this day, even six years later. I told him that I never loved him, and that I was only using his companionship to fulfill my carnal desires. I told him that I didn’t care about what he did with his life as long as he didn’t do anything that kept him away from me. I even told him that I still thought he was disgusting and embarrassing. And the worst thing is... in that moment I meant every word. I was so selfish... I genuinely forgot that I loved him and treated him like he only existed to serve me. My actions were truly despicable and I deserved to suffer for it... and I did. For the first time, I saw Anton cry. I should have been there to comfort him like he did for me on that fateful night, but instead I let him run out of the house to go suffer by himself. By the time I realized how horrible I was acting, it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. I came home the next day to discover all the ponies in the apartment finally gone... isn’t that what I had wanted? My moderator status on the subreddit had been stripped away, and I had been banned by all of the members of the group on nearly every social media platform. Another classmate later informed me that Anton had transferred to a different college... and that was the end. I have no idea what happened to him after that, but I can only hope he is doing well. Instead of taking this as an omen that I should improve my behavior, I began to become even more bitter than I was before I met Anton. I acted like my relationship with him was just an experimental phase that was doomed to fail from the start, and soon I was denying that it ever even happened at all. I convinced myself that the problem in our relationship was that I wasn’t supposed to be with men, and so I began to insist that I was straight and aggressively seek out relationships with women just to prove it to myself. I also started searching for strict moral codes that could give direction to my life... which is when I found the Church. I was attracted to their beliefs because they gave a very clear outline for how someone’s life should go and promised ultimate happiness to anyone who could fulfill the requirements, so I began to obsess over meeting those requirements. I wanted a Christian wife that could bear me many children not because that is how I wanted to live my life, but because that is how other people wanted me to live my life... and all I wanted was for others to tell me I was doing something right. The congregation was distrusting if me at first, and although they never said it to my face I know it was because they were aware of my past. Hardly a woman would come near me, and looking back on it I can’t say I blame them. The ones who were desperate enough for a husband to give me a shot were quirky repulsed by my egotistical behavior, which certainly didn’t help my reputation. Throughout all this, I still somehow told myself I was the victim because I didn’t want to admit that I had become the villain again. For a long time, the only person in the parish who would willingly hold a conversation with me was Lana. She was a fellow member of the choir and a devout believer in God, but she was often judged by the rest of the congregation for being an open lesbian despite her faith. She tried to convince me on several occasions that I didn’t have to perform any sort of identity to impress anyone and that I should “just be myself,” but I insisted that I knew what I was talking about. Eventually, she decided my well-being wasn’t her responsibility and gave up on trying to reason with me, but nonetheless she still treated me more kindly then many of the other churchgoers. I believe that my “dark past” is what drew Gabriella to me in the first place. She likely hoped that we could act as covers for each other until she figured some way out of her situation, but unfortunately I was too far gone to be of any help. I convinced myself that she was really in love with me and that she would be walking down the aisle soon enough. Whether or not I was really interested in her or just interested in what she represented I’m still not sure... but she truly was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have to suffer through my baggage. When she left me I was truly devastated... so much so that I even began to go through another crisis of belief that I recorded on this very blog. All I have to add is that I no longer bear any resentment towards Lana or Gabriella, and only wish them the best of luck. My relationship with Krissy began almost immediately after my breakup with Gabriella. I was desperate to regain the status I supposed that I had lost along with my girlfriend, so I latched onto the first woman who showed me any sort of positive attention. Her death and my downward spiral are all well-documented on this blog. I didn’t want to blame myself for her passing as well, so I developed a conspiracy to rationalize the whole ordeal. I even tried to act like a completely different person to try to keep the blame as mentally distant from myself as possible, but that didn’t work either. In the end, this is my cross to bear alone. So that brings us to now. What will become of allygodot? The truth is, I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t think that is the most important thing right now. I realized last night when I was looking at that art of Diego and Godot as Happy Tree Friends characters that I desperately wanted to be anyone other than myself... it really opened my eyes to the level of repression that had been burdening me since the incident six years ago. I realized that if I wanted to change, sitting around and thinking about how things could hypothetically be different isn’t going to do anything. If I want to make progress and truly become a better person, I’m going to have to act better, not just tell myself that I am. From now on, I will be defining myself on my actions and not my beliefs, as wise man once said. I hope that soon, I will have become a good enough person to meet Anton face to face again... I still love him after all these years, and even though I expect that he justifiably won’t want anything to do with me anymore, I still think that it is a guilt that needs to be resolved. If I ever come back to this blog, it’ll be as a different Adam to the one you thought that you knew. It’ll be as the Adam I’m trying to become... the true Adam that I know exists deep within me... Not allygodot, but as proudgodot. My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee or Godot. I’m a 27 years old former music student living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am bisexual. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

[starcrossedyanderes]

Beauty and The Birds Part 9

Warning: This chapter contains former abuse from parents, religion (mostly cult-ish stuff), mentions of  ‘The Catholic Church’, and supposed witchcraft. A long with general harm of a person because of them being different. If any of this effects you I recommend possibly not reading this. If you are facing any of the above (except for maybe supposed witch craft) you can access this website for help https://www.thehotline.org/ this is the domestic violence hotline and are generally good for a lot of situations.

Disclaimer: I, as always, do not condone this behavior in any sense. A made up sort of cult-like religion is brought up that tries to hide itself as The Catholic Church. I have absolutely nothing against the catholic church as I am personally a protestant (but of course you know how us protestants feel) and I have nothing against what people believe in as long as no one gets hurt. This is based off of the sad incidents of exorcisms and how the are most commonly performed on regular children and how they quickly turn violent. Please, this is never acceptable. You should never be harmed by your religion or because of your religion.

~Previously on Beauty and The Birds~

“Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“Doggo!”

“Sheepies!”

“No. Other birds. I don’t think there’s another like me.”

~Back to Beauty and The Birds~

“It’s a uh.. long story that I haven’t shared with anyone. As you can tell I’m not exactly the best at communicating-“

He physically backed into himself with a blush on his cheeks and a hand rubbing his neck. You physically drooped as you started to walk away.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want to tell me-“

“NO!”

At seemingly the speed of light and a large ‘whoosh’ the bird man appeared right in front of you with his hands spread.

He had this deranged look on his face that seemed to become more and more common as the days passed.

He stepped closer to you with a shaky crazed smile on his face.

“No, no! I’ll tell you! I would tell you anything.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders to pull you in closer as his smile only widened.

“I would do anything for you. You just have to ask and I would tell you whatever you could possibly want to know. As long as you stay so couldn’t care less. It’s all worth it.”

Hm, he seems to show a lot of territorial behavior and desperation. Could this be part of a courtship sort of thing. He seems to be quite attached for only knowing you for what? 2 days? You’ll have to look into that later.

His smile and piercing gaze finally softened as he seemed to return to his normal self.

“I will admit this is a rough topic for me so I would rather if we could instead talk in the nest.”

You eagerly nodded your head as you gripped your discreet recording device as you were flown up to the top floor’s glass observatory.

It seems the nest acts as a comfort sort of place for him. Somewhat how some animals do during heats and pregnancy’s. From what you can tell he isn’t in a heat (although it could explain some things) and he certainly isn’t pregnant so it is quite odd behavior for a bird to exhibit.

~|~

You were currently perched inside the nest as you awaited on Avery’s return. He, to your annoyance, insisted on getting a few snacks

You irritably clutched on a corviknight plushie you found in the nest before it was quickly abandoned on Avery’s return. 

In his hands he carried various junk foods but there was an odd one that stood out from the rest.

Tater tots.

After putting down the foods on a little side table he quickly joined you in the Blanket Void TM and quickly into you. His wings wrapped around and whilst spreading sent a turtle duck plushie off of the bed. He quickly let out some gentle cooing as he nuzzled deeply into your neck.

“I’m ready to answer your questions now.”

“Alright, how about an easier question to start off. What’s with the tater tots?”

Of course this question was just a ruse to make sure your device was recording and genuine curiosity.

Avery’s head pulled away from your neck and a frown pulled at his lips. He then proceeded in what you like to call his ‘bby voice’

“Is there something wrong with them? They’re my favorite.”

That-that was not the answer you were expecting. Huh, that’s odd.

“Oh, nothing. Just genuine curiosity.”

Avery immediately relaxed back into your arms after popping a tater tot into his mouth. 

“Now, you say you don’t think there’s anyone else like you. Is it because you believe to be the last of your species?”

He stiffened up once again before digging himself more into you.

“Well no, I think. I don’t believe I am part of a species. This may take a while to explain and please bare with me. This is a rough topic that I haven’t really been able to share with anyone.”

You eagerly nodded your head and made sure to give him some headpats which only induced some coos to leave his throat.

“Well my family were rather wealthy and owned an airplane company and I think we did general logistics stuff. We were also rather catholic although now I think we don’t quite fit that term. At least hope not for the sake of people who are actually catholic.

My mother was the heiress and received a lot of suitors. She was supposedly cursed by one of her suitor’s mother after turning him down. We think this may have led to me.. being me.”

You felt rather disheartened but also even more intrigued by this information. So he doesn’t seem to be part of a species, but an odd mutation? (You highly doubted this is from some curse.)

“So where exactly is your family now”

After speaking you popped a tator tot into your mouth.

“I think about 5 years ago my parents, ironically enough, died in a plane crash. I was pretty much only allowed on the estate, the woods, and the church after my wings developed so I wasn’t allowed with them. That was probably a mistake on their parts.”

You waved your arms a bit.

“Hold up, you siad you weren’t allowed anywhere after your wings developed. Does that mean you weren’t born with them.”

Avery let out a reflexive chuckle.

“Ha ha, well I technically was born with them. I was a healthy baby but I had these bumps on my back. Of course everyone was concerned about these being tumors so I was tested frequently. Turns out they were merely bone and somewhat.. hollow. As I grew the bumps started grow into my wings today. The bone thing is also why I take a good bit of calcium since they’re so fragile.”

“But why weren’t you let anywhere after they developed?”

Avery let out a sigh as he mentally prepared himself.

“After the doctors kinda figured out I was somehow growing wings paired with my purple eyes my parents were very excited for me to be an angel like thing. Yeah, I don’t know their understanding either. Maybe consider me as a miracle of the lord of something? Either way they were rather hopeful of this and treated me like a regular son with giving me an education to run the business. But then I got my feathers. Their dreams of an angel were crushed upon seeing that were not pure white but instead a dark black. They became horrified and I was forced to spend a lot of time at the church and was forced to have exorcism after exorcism performed on me. It.. wasn’t pleasant to say the least. My parents quickly hated me and locked me away. But they still needed an heir and they feared to have another child so I was still given an education as I sometimes needed to appear to confirm that they were nice enough to keep me alive.”

You felt some water cascade down your neck as you could place your arms around him in a hug.

“A-Avery that’s awful. I-I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Avery gained a small smile as he pulled away from you hug with tears still gliding down his face.

“Y-You’re the first person to every say sorry to me.”

“Oh, Avery. No one should be deprived of that.”

You forced a small grin on your face to try and cheer him up.

“Ok, no more hardcore questions. Stuff that shouldn’t make you cry now. Sorry to open those wounds like that.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I said I would tell you anything. And I’m honestly over joyed to share anything with you.”

How can someone say something so creepy yet sat at the same time? “Alright then, if you’re sure you want to continue. You’re able to communicate with birds from what I can tell. Do they see you as they’re leader or something?”

“Since I was only really allowed in the woods birds quickly became my only friends and company. Also I’ve done a lot of rehabilitation work that a lot seem to feel indebted to me. A lot of birds tend to follow the bigger bird naturally and they see me as a really big bird so they just kinda.. naturally do what I tell them. It also helps that I feed them too.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Like when I saw this heron in a pond one time and a bunch of ducks just followed him around. Last question for the day, alright?”

Avery nodded his head as he pulled you closer.

“I brought like 3 scarves here but I can’t find any of them. I have a slight feeling you may know where they are.”

Of course you couldn’t see it but a dark blush covered Avery’s face.

“W-well two of them are in the nest. I’m afraid that some of the birds got their hands on the other one somehow and are currently using it to snuggle. I’m working on getting them another scarf so you can get yours back.”

Huh, so he puts many different things in his nest. Also now you had to deal with the conflict of you taking a scarf from some cozy, snuggling birds.

“The birds can keep my scarf. I couldn’t just take it from them like that.”

Avery smiled against your neck and cooed.

“I’m sure they’ll be estatic for their cuddling not to be ruined. Now enough questions, more cuddles and movies.”

[stiles-o-dylan24]

Hiii, sorry to bother you, I hope you doing well and are safe

, I wanna do a rewrite of an series, do you have any tips you can share, please?

If you don't wanna then it is fine.🤗

Hey friend💛 thank you, I’m doing well and doing my best to stay safe and I hope you are as well! You’re never a bother and I don’t mind at all to offer my writing tips! 

I wrote down things below the cut that helped me the most and I tried to be as organized with them as I could, so I hope these help and I’m always happy to answer any other questions or help in any way!

Character & Relationships

First thing I would say is to map out your character that you’re adding in to the show. 

Who they are, if you’re going with an OC or a reader insert, and if they’re going to be related to a canon character or if your character is going to have their own family that you’re also going to be creating

What kind of relationships, romantic or otherwise, they will have with canon characters.

Romantic relationships- map out how the ultimate endgame relationship will go: slow burn/enemies to lovers/friends to lovers. 

Have distinguished scenes that will set the pace for whichever of these tropes you go with to be believable. 

Figure out what you absolutely love when reading those tropes and how you can give that same pace to your characters, making sure to include the angst/longing/frustration/soft pure adorableness/body language light touches that makes those tropes so freaking amazing 

Knowing all of this beforehand will ideally help figure out how involved in the scenes you want your character to be. Which I personally think it’s important to brainstorm and actually put thought into reshaping the scenes with your character first, as it will really make it believable to imagine that your character was always in canon and not just put in a scene because you, as the author, say so.

I’ve read one rewrite in particular where the author obviously didn’t think about that with their reader insert character and it really showed. That caused it to feel annoyingly forced and after three seasons not enjoyable to read for me because it never felt like the reader was supposed to be there and I stopped reading it.

I know I view rewrites differently than most people but, to me, if you’re going to take on a rewrite that means you’re altering canon, at least a little bit, for the story to make sense for a new character to be added in like they were there all along. So why not change relationships and morph the story to include someone who in my opinion, and yours since you’re wanting to rewrite it, was definitely missing from the show?

Transcripts/Scene layout

So once you have a good idea of your character and the relationships you want them to have it’ll make how you alter the script easier.

Try to find transcripts of the episodes as this is incredibly easier than watching the episode with subtitles and pausing every few seconds to copy down how says what in a scene.

Every website with transcripts are usually fan made so as you copy them be warned and keep in mind that 

Sometimes who they have saying the line could not always be correct.

Sometimes the line itself is not quite correct to what was actually said

In my case, sometimes the website went away and there’s no data on the page

So for that last bullet point I do suggest, as soon as you find a website with the entire series of transcripts, copying every episode into a separate google doc(or your preferred writing doc). 

Yes it takes some time, depending on how many episodes your show has, however it’s so worth it to not have to go back and worry about the webpage being down when you’re starting season 4 (Yes that happened to me and when the page came back up I copied the rest of the series into docs)

Writing POV

More than likely the webpage you’re copying from will copy the entire episode script into one big paragraph. You will have to go through and space it out properly, however, I used that opportunity to watch the episode at the same time that I was spacing the dialogue. 

which helped in checking that what the transcripts had was correctly copied

the right person was saying what the transcripts had and if not I could quickly change the character

if you’re writing in 1st person you should also use this opportunity to take out scenes that obviously your character wouldn’t/couldn’t logically be in

though I also suggest trying to keep scenes that you feel are necessary to keep the overall story together to be read in a cohesive way. 

You can alternate to 3rd person or you could have your character do a story time to the readers in an inner monologue type of way or have them/another character explain what happened in a little recap. 

I mean your audience, for the majority, has probably watched the whole series and knows what’s happening, but you’re writing a story– why not have it flow as smoothly as if someone was actually watching the series?

To me with writing my series, keeping the overall main story well described was really important. 

I made sure to include story times and little summaries of major events my main character wasn’t apart of whenever I could and it paid off because some people had either stopped watching the show or had forgotten what had happened in later seasons and really enjoyed the fact they could still follow along with the main story.

At the same time do not feel overwhelmed with making sure you include every single event or detail.

 do whatever you feel is necessary to tell your story with your character as you would like it to be read.

And if you’re writing from 2nd or 3rd person, well you’ll more than likely be rewriting everything anyways so my hat goes off to you my friend.

Dialogue

So once you have the layout of the original episode script go through it and write the scenes with your new character(s) as best as you can from memory, since you just watched the episode while you were spacing out the script lines. 

Make the scenes believable and truly feel like your character is supposed to be there by slowing down the need to just cram your character in and instead

Have your character(s) say some of their own lines in between when the canon dialogue lines are spoken

Morph the actual canon dialogue line by either cutting it halfway and having your character(s) finish the line 

or have your character(s) say the canon dialogue line and give one of the other characters a new line/a morphed line from another character’s canon line.

Final Writing of the Episode

Once you’ve altered the episode with your character(s) watch the episode again and read through what you have written.

adding in more actions from the characters/facial expressions that may be missing to really make the scene flow more realistically.

This is the process that really worked for me to edit the episodes one by one and I felt like was the most time efficient to getting through an episode.

I think that writing through the episode without watching it and only reading the script helps in not being distracted or feeling rushed to get through a scene.

Last Notes From Me

Personally I would suggest having the first one or two seasons(depending how long they are) already written out in the ways I mentioned above, if possible the final edits done as well, before you publish the first episode.

This will drastically help you as you continue to finish writing the rest of the episodes and keep to the schedule you wish to keep to. 

It could also help you in making sure that you have added in everything you possibly wanted to add in to later episodes. 

Also help you see that the timeline of a relationship is going exactly as you would like it to.

There’s nothing worse than getting overwhelmed with a posting schedule and it causing you to rush through an episode and you leave out a key plot point that needed to happen for something you wanted to happen later on be exactly as you originally envisioned it happening.

Remember to have fun with this whole process and don’t forget that you’re telling your story for you more than anyone. You feel like something is missing and this is your opportunity to write something you will want to read.

Yes the interaction is fun and helps you get through the moments of ‘is this worth it’, however you also need to write for you. Create something you will want to read to fill that space in your mind of what’s missing when you’re watching the show/reading other people’s rewrites.

Again this is all just my advice and is to be taken with a grain of salt. You need to do things in a way that works for you! What I did was really beneficial to me and my work schedule plus my mindset for what I wanted to bring to my rewrite. It may not work for you so if it doesn’t just be patient with yourself and you’ll find your way.

Hopefully through my long ramble of a message I answered your questions or gave you some form of insight. If I did not or you still have more questions please don’t hesitate to send me another message!

I am here if you need anything– to vent, run ideas by, a beta reader, literally anything- and I absolutely love rewrites, so please tag me in yours🤗 

Good luck and I hope you have so much fun taking on a series rewrite! 

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

For the Flame Always So Loved the Stars - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Kara Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane Pairing: jondami Summary: Nothing stays the same forever. But fairytales always end the same way. A/N: This is just a whole fucking lot of self-indulgent garbage. Takes place over 5 years, Damian is 18-23, and Jon is 15-20. The last section is just their superhero way of saying ‘I love you and always will.’ but like. Subtly. I wrote this for myself, but I’m pleased with how it came out, so I hope you like it too. Sorry not sorry for literally the first line of this fic haha. The legend was googled so I took the most similar parts in all the wikis I read. I ignored the part where they all said ‘their story always ends in tragedy and betrayal’ but I’m going for happy endings dammit.

~~

Dick Grayson died when Damian was eighteen.

He wasn’t there. No one from the family was. It was a simple carjacking gone wrong. A single bullet, straight to the chest, from a scared kid who thought completing the initiation to the local gang was his only option to survive in this life.

It was almost funny. A single bullet. No poison, no torture. No evil mastermind, or world-ending apocalypse. No battles against armies, or lives and loves at stake. Not anything they dealt with daily.

Just an old car with a purse left on the passenger seat that someone saw. Just a weak spot in aged armour that was going to be replaced in the next year or so.

Just a single bullet.

Damian doesn’t remember much from after he was told, after he came home from class and found his siblings and Stephanie waiting for him in the parlor. He remembered knowing it must have been bad; Tim’s face was blotchy, his eyes red-rimmed and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Stephanie was the one who told him. Cassandra held his hand. But that was about it. That was all his mind supplied.

That, and the fact that his first thought after being told was: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Not fair because Dick was the best of them, in every way. Because he was funny, smart, kind, and every single thing a hero should be. A good person.

Not fair because Damian only got eight years with him, his closest confidante, one of his only friends. Because Damian decided at age ten that a world without Dick Grayson was not one he wanted to live in, and yet here he was, in the worst reality he could think of.

He doesn’t remember much from after he was told. He remembers Stephanie saying: “Dick died, Damian.” He remembers thinking: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Then...he remembers a pain in his knees. Remembers blinking and finding himself staring at the floor, which was much closer than it should have been. He remembers his sister kneeling in front of him, allowing him to press his  forehead into her shoulder. Remembers Jason next to him, rubbing his back, asking if they should get him water, or take him upstairs.

He remembers hearing Tim sob, and that might be the most memorable thing of the moment, because his body registered that that’s what he wanted to do too, he wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t, because you don’t cry over things that weren’t real. And that’s obviously why he collapsed, why he couldn’t form words to come out of his mouth, why his mind was refusing to remember this moment.

Because it wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

~~

Jon was antsy. Nervous.

Alfred had called days ago to inform him and his parents what had happened. And Jon had already been halfway out the door when the butler interjected to request that none of them visit, not right now. The Waynes and their closest companions were grieving, and needed to be alone.

And he hated that – he hated being away from Damian on a good day, but now, when Damian was going to need him? It was pure agony.

So two weeks later, when Clark gave him the okay, he took off to Gotham faster than he ever had before, and bypassed every bit of security measures that Bruce asked him to complete upon arriving.

He found Damian in the cemetery, and he had a feeling it was a place Damian didn’t often leave anymore.

Jon said nothing as he approached. Just plopped next to Damian and silently wrapped his arms around the other’s neck. Damian didn’t say anything either, but he leaned gratefully into the embrace, reaching up to cling to Jon’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry.” Jon whispered, leaning back. He didn’t leave Damian’s personal space, though. Kept their shoulders touching, knees keeping each other warm. “I…I don’t know what else to say. To think.”

“Me neither.” Damian murmured. His voice sounded dry, and Jon wondered when he last drank anything, or ate. “But…I’m glad you’re here.”

Jon let himself smile a little bit, and reached out to hold Damian’s hand. Damian didn’t refute the gesture, and even squeezed Jon’s fingers between his. “I wish I’d had been allowed to come sooner.”

Damian shrugged. “It was better you didn’t see any of us as we…were.”

“Were, huh?” Jon asked dubiously. He glanced forward towards Dick’s grave. Flowers and statues covered it as a makeshift memorial, and the flowers were starting to wilt. “…How are you doing with all this?”

Damian absently shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

Jon waited, sensing there was more. Had a feeling that in their grief-induced isolation, not many feelings were shared amongst the Wayne family. That they probably all suffered in silence, despite being together.

“I…I didn’t get enough time with him.” Damian continued, just like Jon knew he would. Because Damian didn’t trust easily, but when he did, he trusted you with everything. And Jon knew he was one of the few Damian trusted. Maybe the only one, now. “Eight years. That’s it.”

He squeezed Jon’s hand again.

“If I’d had known that’s all we would have gotten, I…I wouldn’t have wasted it. There was so much I wanted to do with him. Learn from him.” Damian sniffed, and Jon looked up at his eyes. But he didn’t see a hint of tears. In fact, he saw nothing. Damian’s eyes were empty. “But now I’ll never get the chance. I’ll never get to ask how he escaped Father and Gotham. How he survived on his own, and found himself, or how can I do that too. How I can leave Robin, and start over somewhere else like he did. How he rebuilt his life, how he became and remained kind. Did he think it was possible I can remain kind too? Did he…did he believe in me? Or what about how…”

Damian trailed off, and Jon was almost glad he did. Because in his ramblings, Jon heard something, and he wasn’t so sure Damian meant to let it slip.

“You want to leave Robin?” Jon asked softly. Damian’s mouth clamped shut. “Since when?”

Damian stared at the stone in front of him for a moment, before sighing and looking at the ground.

“A few months.” Damian admitted. “I…just don’t fit in it anymore, I don’t think. Or it doesn’t fit me. And I can’t stay in Batman’s shadow forever, no matter who is wearing the mantle. Besides, Grayson left it when he was around my age. As did Drake, even if it wasn’t by his choice. I might as well follow the tradition as well.”

“…Does your dad know?”

“…No. No one does.” Damian frowned. “I was going to speak with Grayson about it next time I saw him, but now…now you’re the only one who knows by default, I suppose.”

“Well, thanks for telling me.” Jon smiled. He waited a moment, then looked up at the sky. “So…what do you want to do after you leave Robin? Find a new name? Quit and go on the straight and narrow?”

“I don’t know. That’s…what I was going to speak to Grayson about.” Damian admitted softly. “I want to still help, of course. But…is behind a mask the best way? Is Gotham where I’m best utilized?” He sighed, and curled his knees to his chest. Though he never let go of Jon’s hand. “But now…now I am even more confused.”

“Why?”

“Because Batman needs a Robin, and I can’t leave my father now, Jon.” Damian almost snapped, like it was obvious. “He’s grieving, and he’s lost. He shouldn’t be alone. He shouldn’t be left alone.”

“Absolutely not. I agree.” Jon nodded. “But…it can’t all fall on you, D. Just like it can’t fall on Alfred or Tim. He has his family, no matter where in the world they – you – are, and he has his friends. He has my dad, and Diana.”

“This is different. This is the loss of Richard. And not even Superman can heal that wound.” Damian shook his head. “Not to mention…if I left now, would my father see it as a betrayal? Abandonment? Would the family?”

“They wouldn’t. They couldn’t.” Jon argued. “You’re growing up, and they all know how it is. You can’t be stuck as the Boy Wonder forever, that’s not fair to you. Does the timing kind of suck? Maybe. But also…maybe this is the best time.” He hesitated, but squeezed Damian’s hand and said his thoughts anyway. “Maybe this is exactly what Dick would want you to do. Spread your wings and fly, so to speak.”

Damian stared at the ground. “…I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, Jon. I truly don’t. What if, without his guidance, I’m tempted by my mother again, and actually consider any offer she makes? What if I stray, and Batman cuts me loose, like I was burden in the first place? What if-”

“Hey, hey – stop. Don’t talk like that.” Jon shook their clasped hands. “None of that is going to happen, okay? Despite the fact that it won’t ever happen at all in the first place, I won’t let it. I promise. Alright?”

Damian didn’t look at him. But after a moment, he let himself tilt to the side, and lean his head on Jon’s shoulder.

“…Thanks for being here, Kent.” Damian whispered. “It means a lot.”

Jon let go of Damian’s hand, only to wrap his arm around his shoulders instead. He looked at the tombstone at their feet, sent a silent prayer up to Dick himself. “Don’t even mention it, D.”

~~

A few months later, Robin had all but disappeared off the streets. It prompted news articles and primetime specials. Conspiracy theory websites and Twitter hashtags.

Jon liked to print them out and bring them to Damian every time he visited.

He was still in Gotham, and even still going out on patrol with Batman and the rest. But now his uniform was all black, and he stayed in the background as much as he could. This new shadow of Batman’s was never mentioned in the papers, never caught in a photo. A ghost, almost.

That wasn’t Damian’s new moniker, though. He still hadn’t chosen one.

“Not even a general idea?” Jon asked one day, as he and Conner visited. Tim had taken the newly printed article and was reading it over with an amused smirk, Conner cackling behind him. “Or like, a motif?”

“Not a priority.” Damian had shrugged. “Maybe I’ll never pick one.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn.” Jon pouted. “…How’s Bruce doing?”

Damian shrugged again. “Same as always. Attempts to lock himself in the cave, or in his office with work from Wayne Enterprises. I drag him out of the house at least every other day.”

Jon pursed his lips.

“But he’s been smiling lately. Like real smiles. So, it’s a start.” Damian promised. He knew Jon didn’t like this, Damian caring for Bruce. Because he knew that same care was not being reciprocated in the way it should.

“How long are you going to stay?” Jon asked, as he did every visit. “In Gotham, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Also not a priority.” Damian sighed. “I’m needed here, both in uniform and at home. When I feel I’m not necessarily needed, then I’ll start considering my options elsewhere.”

~~

Something felt different when Jon was nineteen.

Clark and Conner found him sitting in the kitchen, staring fiercely into a soda can when they arrived home one afternoon.

“Hey, champ.” Clark hummed, leaning down to kiss Jon’s temple.

“Hey, Dad. Hey Kon” Jon sighed. “How was Gotham?”

“Gloomy, like always.” Conner chuckled, plopping down across from him. “Damian said hello, by the way.”

Jon felt himself blush a little bit. And he shouldn’t have, he’s known Damian forever. But lately, it felt like the two of them were growing closer, in a way he never expected when they were just teenagers trying to live up to their fathers’ legacies.

In a way that included flirting, holding hands in a park, in front of paparazzi. A way that included what may have been a date, since it ended in a quick, barely there kiss.

“He said he was going to give an answer to a question he knows you’d ask.” Clark continued, drawing Jon out of his reverie. “No, he has not decided on a new codename yet.”

Jon groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “He knows this isn’t like a blood contract or something, right? It doesn’t have to be permanent! It’s not that big of a choice!”

Clark held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger, son.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jon sighed. He sat back up and watched his father grab a glass and start to fill it in the sink. “Speaking of codenames and all that…”

Clark tilted his head as Conner sat up.

“I don’t…when do you think…” Jon huffed. “Conner, when did you realize you didn’t want to…be called Superboy anymore?”

Conner pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Guess I never really thought about it. Just…stopped using it. And eventually everyone else did too.”

“I don’t think I knew that.” Clark mumbled sheepishly. “What do you go by now, may I ask?”

“Nothing, really. And not like Damian where I’m still deciding something. But just…Kon, usually. Different enough from Conner, honestly.” Conner grinned. “A lot of people also seem to think it’s Con – as in Pros and Cons? Works real well for the taunting wordplay and all that too.”

Clark snorted. “I’m sure your friends love the puns.”

“Bart does. Cassie, depends on the day. Tim is like a disappointed dad all the time anyway, so he doesn’t count.” Conner waved off. He returned his attention to Jon, whose attention seemed to be drifting off again. “Why do you ask, squirt?”

Jon frowned at the name, and that was new. Normally he didn’t mind the random nicknames his older brother gave him. “Because…I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t think…I want to be called Superboy anymore.”

Clark joined them at the table, sitting down carefully. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m not a boy anymore. I’m a teenager. I mean, I’m…I’m practically an adult!” Jon sounded exasperated already, like he’d had this conversation a million times. “It’s…it’s demeaning, and childish, and…and…”

He trailed off into a huff, slumping in his chair.

“I don’t even know if I want to keep the Super part, honestly.” Jon glanced at Clark. “Sorry, Dad.”

Clark shook his head, raising his hand. “None taken, Jonno.”

“Especially since I don’t feel all that super most of the time anyway.” He sighed.

“…If you want out of the life, Jon, I wouldn’t blame you.” Clark offered. “I’d love it, honestly. It’d just mean you’d be safer.”

“No, no. I want to be a hero. I want to help. I just.” Jon leaned back forward, hiding his face in his hands. “This is stupid. I feel stupid.”

Conner smiled and leaned forward, slapping his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Not stupid. Pretty sure every hero has gone through it at least once in their tenure. Even Batman.”

“And he settled on Bat. Man.” Clark winked. “So obviously not all names are winners.”

Jon looked over to Clark. “…You’re not disappointed?”

“That you want a new codename? Not at all.” Clark grinned. “My only request is…don’t take over four years to decide something like Damian is.”

Jon smiled. “I’ll try.”

~~

“Maybe I’ll just go by Krypto.” Jon lamented from the bed. “He’s a dog, so I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“If you started going by Krypto.” Damian countered from the bathroom doorway. “I’m disowning you as my friend.”

Jon rolled to his side, deeper into the blankets. “What about as your potential bedmate?”

Damian’s face twisted, even as he came forward. “Christ, Jon. We haven’t even done anything, how do you still make that sound so dirty?”

“Because I know what annoys you. And if you’d just let me say boyfriend-”

“Which we are not officially.” Damian countered. “…Yet.”

“-Then I wouldn’t have to say things like bedmate, or friend with benefits.”

“We haven’t done anything, there is no benefit for either of us at this point.” Damian reiterated, even as Jon tugged at his arm when he got close enough. Damian sat on the edge of the bed, and almost smiled when Jon shimmied over to place his head in his lap. “Though I am finding your company less beneficial by the minute…”

Jon cackled, even as he felt Damian’s fingers twist into his hair. “Hey, if nothing else, I’m a good cuddle buddy, right?”

“My cat is better.” Damian shrugged. “Probably.”

“I’ll take the probably as a win.” Jon grinned. “…But hey, think about it this way.”

“Hm?”

“Even if I went by something dumb like Krypto, at least I picked a new codename.”

Damian frowned, and pulled his hand back. “For as charming as your parents are, neither of them taught you how to flirt properly, did they?”

Jon immediately pulled his arms out of the blanket, latching on to Damian’s waist. “You hate when I sidetrack a conversation. I was getting back on point.”

“…Fair.” Damian sighed. “I’ll allow it.”

“…Are you any closer to picking anything?” Jon asked. “According to Barry, you’re throwing off everyone’s betting pools.”

“I...have an idea.” Damian murmured, keeping his gaze away from Jon’s. “But I still need to think of a backup.”

“What? Why?” Jon asked.

“…Personal reasons.” Damian murmured. “And I don’t wish to get my hopes up.”

Jon watched him silently.

“But we aren’t talking about me.” Damian countered. “Have you thought of any other suggestions for yourself?”

“I don’t know. Something related to my dad, like Krypton? Or even like your dad – he named himself after what he was scared of, right? Or weakness. So, Kryptonite.” Jon listed. “Or maybe I should just be lazy and follow everyone else’s lead. Starman, or Sunguy or something stupid like that.”

“Hm. Well. Those are certainly…options.” Damian tilted his head apologetically. “I’d offer assistance, but…well…”

Jon laughed.

“Be my distraction instead, how about that?” Jon suggested instead. Without warning, he used his momentum to throw Damian back onto the bed, cocoon him in the blankets as he loomed overhead. “Because there’s totally a lot of other things I’d like to be doing than thinking of new codenames.”

Damian smiled as Jon leaned in for a kiss.

~~

He didn’t know how Damian had lasted four years without a name. It’d only been a few months for himself, a few months of not using any name, and he felt like he was going crazy.

He also felt like he was a total letdown.

He was a Kent, for crying out loud. Son of Superman and one of the world’s greatest journalists. And here, he couldn’t choose a name, couldn’t pick a damn word.

Not to mention, it was detrimental in the field. When he didn’t notice an enemy coming behind him, or someone needed his help – he had no name to be called. And they couldn’t just shout Jon.

How did Damian make it look so easy? Because Damian and his family were freaks. They all moved too in-sync, too well trained. They were like animals themselves – they didn’t need to speak, movement was like instinct. Communication could be silent, because all of them were always three steps ahead of each other.

He let out a guttural groan as he entered the apartment, slammed the door behind him a little too hard. Heard the squeak of the chair in his mother’s office as she stood to greet him.

“Hi honey.” She called, walking into the room. She took in the annoyance on his face and gave him a sympathetic, knowing grin. “It’s not the end of the world, Jon. Names aren’t that big of a deal. So long as you’re helping, who cares what your name is?”

“I know, I know.” Jon mumbled, kicking off his shoes. “I’m just frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard! Why doesn’t anything feel right?”

“Because it’s not.” Lois shrugged simply, leading the way into the kitchen. She motioned for Jon to sit, and got out a mug for him. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. It might take a while, but – when you know, you know.”

Jon groaned again. “Mom, I love you – but that was literally no help whatsoever.”

“Sometimes, the truth isn’t helpful.” She laughed, pouring him a glass of ice tea. She set it in front of him, and kissed his head. “But if you’re really struggling with this…talk to your father. He’s helped a young hero or two discover a new path before. You’re no different just because you’re his son.” She paused. “In fact, I’m a little surprised Damian hadn’t told you.”

“Told me what?” Jon stomach nearly dropped. “Dad finally helped him decide on a name too?!”

“Of course not. Damian is as stubborn and tight-lipped as his own idiot of a father.” Lois rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “No, his brother – Dick.”

Jon blinked.

“Nightwing was a Kryptonian name. From the Kryptonian legend of Nightwing and Flamebird.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Even if you don’t want you father’s help on a name, ask him about the story. It’s very good.”

~~

Tim found Damian in the cave alone, and his gut immediately told him that something was off. Not wrong, but…not necessarily good.

“Hey.” He offered. “What’s up?”

Damian didn’t move from the computer chair. He looked too much like Bruce in that moment – slouched, hands steepled in front of his face, looking too thoughtful for someone so young.

“I’d like to talk to you.” Damian returned, just as vaguely.

“I’m all ears.”

Damian hesitated a moment. Dragged it to two. Tim was about to speak, to push the conversation along, when Damian sighed. “I…we didn’t do it right last time. And I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. Not here. Not with you.”

“…Damian?” Tim asked, moving towards him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, no. I just.” He sighed. “I wanted to ask your…opinion.”

“On?”

“I think I’ve chosen a new moniker to go by.” Damian murmured. “But I want to make sure I had permission first.”

“Permission?” Tim repeated, bewildered. “I mean…as long it’s not like Red Robin or Red Hood or something, I think you can go by whatever you wa-”

“Nightwing.”

Damian’s voice was so quiet when he said it, Tim almost thought he’d misheard, or that maybe Damian didn’t actually speak at all. That it was maybe a breeze, or a ghost.

But when Damian said nothing else, eyes still not on him, Tim realized he said exactly as he’d heard. “…Really?”

Damian nodded, but seemed to swallow a lump in his throat.

“I mean, those are quite some shoes to fill, especially after all these years, but…” Then Tim paused, replayed what Damian already said. “…Wait, why would you need my permission to use Dick’s old name?”

Damian still didn’t look at him. “Because last time I changed names, I took yours.” He frowned. “I stole yours.”

Tim shrugged. “It was over a decade ago. I know you and I have held a lot of grudges in our lives, but trust me. I’m over that one.”

“And I know Todd would never want Nightwing.” Damian continued as if Tim never spoke. “But…you were next in line. You loved Grayson like I did.” Finally, he looked up, eyes boring into Tim’s. “And you’d deserve it.”

Tim stepped back like someone had punched him in the chest. “Damian…”

“You do, and you know it.” Damian continued. “You’ve fought tooth and nail for respect in this family, for every title you’ve ever carried. You fought for your independence, and have thrived as Red Robin. In a way, you are everything Nightwing embodies, and you deserve the title most.” Damian’s gaze dropped once more. “And I don’t want to take that opportunity from you. Not like I’ve taken everything else from you too.”

Tim just stared.

“He would have chosen you himself. I know it. If he were…” Damian trailed off. Seemed to have to take a moment to compose himself. “…If he were still here.”

Tim lowered his own eyes at the thought. It’d been five years since their beloved older brother died. Despite what the world tried to say, time didn’t heal all wounds, and the loss of Dick Grayson was a wound that seemed almost infected now, especially for Damian.

The world was less without him. Less bright, less kind, less happy – less everything.

Just…less.

After a moment Tim smiled. Picked his head up and moved forward so he could crouch next to the chair, leaning his arms on it. Despite being twenty-three years old, Damian turned his head away so he didn’t have to look at Tim, just like a child.

“I don’t want Nightwing.” Tim said honestly. “I’m happy with where I am and what I’m doing. But I appreciate you asking. I’m…honored, in fact.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I guess.” Damian mumbled.

“But I have to say I disagree with you.” Tim leaned his chin on his arms. “Dick wouldn’t have picked me to succeed him. He wouldn’t have picked anyone. But he would have been so proud to see you take it on after him.”

Damian closed his eyes, sucked his lips between his teeth.

“Because, for once, I’ll toot my own horn a little bit. I won’t disagree with you on this one. Maybe I do deserve the Nightwing name.” Tim admitted. “But I’m not the only one.”

Damian didn’t answer, but shook his head.

“You do too, Damian.” Tim reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “You’ve overcome so much. You’ve done so much. And Dick was proud of you for it until the day he died. I know he was.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked at Tim. The tears immediately fell down his cheeks.

“And he’d be honored, knowing you wanted to follow in his footsteps, and carry on his legacy, for a second time.” Tim chuckled. “Especially after your first words to us when you were a kid was how badly you wanted to be Batman.”

“One day I still will be.” Damian blubbered with a laugh. Tim laughed too.

“I know.” He hummed warmly. “But that was all a long, surprisingly emotionally-charged way to say: while it’s not mine to give, yes you have my permission to become Nightwing.”

Even as his tears continued to fall, Damian stared at Tim for a few more seconds, before leaning forward and, once again to Tim’s surprise, enveloped his older brother in a hug.

“Thank you, Drake.” He whispered. Tim just let his smile widen as he held Damian just as tightly back. “Thank you so much.”

~~

“Tim told me Damian finally picked a new name.” Conner said one morning, as the two of them sat on a rooftop overlooking Metropolis. “…He also mentioned you two might be dating?”

Jon’s eyes widened slightly as he tried to keep his heart rate in check. Damian had told Tim?

“He hasn’t told me about choosing a name.” Jon said instead. “When did this supposedly happen?”

“The other day. Maybe he hasn’t made it official yet.” Conner shrugged. Then he grinned. “Though you’d think he’d tell his boyfriend about it anyway.”

Jon frowned. “We’re not dating.” A hesitation. “Officially.”

“Ooooh.” Conner mocked, scooting closer. “Tell me everything.”

Jon rolled his eyes, but laughed as he pushed Conner’s shoulder. “First off, not your business. And second, there’s nothing to tell? We hang out. We hold hands. We…do things.”

Conner wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop.” Jon chuckled. “I just…like being with him. Being close to him makes me feel happy. Safe. All that cliché stuff.”

“Has he reciprocated?” Jon nodded. “Then why not official?”

“His choice. I think he feels like he’d be judged for having actual emotions or something.” Jon shrugged. “I also think he feels like he’s…not good enough? Or a bad person, or something, and is hoping I might find someone else before we’re legit.”

“Ouch.”

“It sucks, but…I get it.” Jon sighed. “And he just…has stuff going on. Mentally, I think.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we started flirting a little bit right before Dick died. So our whole relationship so far, romantically, he’s trying to deal with the loss, with the vacuum that loss created in his family, and growing in his role as a hero.” Jon listed. “He’s stuck in his own head so much that honestly I’m just happy when I can get him to smile some days.”

“That’s sweet.” Conner grinned. “And proof you’re head over heels.”

“I mean…did I ever deny that?” Jon grinned back, but it was sad. Conner’s own smile fell slightly.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Jon exhaled a bitter laugh. “That obvious?”

“Does he know?”

“I think so?” Jon thought out loud. “And I think that’s why he thinks himself such a terrible person.”

“Because he doesn’t love you back?”

“No, no. I think he absolutely does.” Jon said confidently. “It’s just like I said – he thinks himself as a bad person, and that I deserve better.”

“That’s…” Conner pursed his lips. “…quite the conundrum.”

“Yeah.” Jon smiled wistfully. “But anyway, the name. Did Tim say what name he chose?”

“Nope.” Conner kicked his feet against the building. “Tim said it was incredibly personal, and he wasn’t the one to share it.”

“Interesting.” Jon muttered. “Wonder what it could be?”

~~

He was twenty, very much an adult, but oh boy, did he feel like a rebellious teenager right now.

After all, how else were you supposed to feel when you and your not-quite-boyfriend were lying almost naked, cuddled up in your parents’ bed?

Somewhere in his mind he was panicking. If – when – they found out, he was doomed. He’d never live it down.

(But at the same time, it was also totally not his fault. Their apartment was closer to downtown than his was, and the room he still had here only had a single bed. There was no way they’d fit. And since his father was in space and his mother in the Philippines, the bed would have just gone to waste being empty, so…)

Though, simultaneously, any fear of repercussions was drowned out by the utter bliss he felt at being cocooned in Damian’s arms, and using his collarbone as a pillow while they watched the nightly news.

Under his ear, he felt Damian’s heartbeat slowing, a clear sign he was falling asleep. So it was the perfect time to ask:

“I hear you picked a new codename.”

Damian stirred a little and hummed, “Yeah.”

“What name did you pick, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Damian hesitated a moment, then whispered, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Never.”

“…Nightwing.” Damian answered sheepishly. Quietly, like he wasn’t allowed to say it. “I…decided to carry on Grayson’s legacy.”

Jon turned and looked up at him. Without thinking he cupped Damian’s cheek in his hand. “Oh, Damian, that’s wonderful.” Damian kept his gaze over Jon’s shoulder, face heating up in an embarrassed flush. “He’d love it, he’d be so happy.” He stroked his thumb across Damian’s skin. “I’m so proud of you.”

Damian snorted. “Nothing to be proud of. It took me five years to pick a name someone had already used.”

“For good reason.” Jon countered. “And an homage to a great man.”

Damian allowed himself to look at Jon now. He stared at him for a moment, taking in his face, then carefully took hold of Jon’s wrist, and leaned in for a kiss, which Jon ate up greedily.

After a moment, they separated, and Jon twisted back to stare at the TV, Damian’s arms still tight around him.

“…What about you?” Damian asked softly. “Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Superdude is sounding better and better every day.” Jon said dryly. “But I guess I haven’t really been thinking about it either. Been focused on some other more important things lately.”

“Oh? Like what? School?”

Jon grinned, kept his eyes on the weather report now lighting up the room.

“You.”

Damian didn’t answer, but Jon felt him gently kiss his temple, and lean their heads together.

~~

“Mom said I should ask my dad.” Jon hummed as he paid for their coffee. “But we haven’t seen each other in a while, and you know more about Krypton and all that stuff than he does, you know?”

“Sure.” Kara smiled, taking her cup from his hand. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re so interested in some old Kryptonian legend?”

“Just curiosity, mostly.” Jon shrugged. “Dad helped Dick Grayson become Nightwing back in the day, and now that Damian is taking the title on, I figured I should learn a little bit about it myself.”

“To support your future husband?” Kara smirked.

“Stop.” Jon groaned. “I should have never told Conner the truth.”

“I’m just glad to know you’re happy.” Kara squeezed his hand as they walked outside. “And also that I now have a viable reason to beat Damian up.”

“And that reason would be?”

“For the honor of my littlest cousin.” She winked. Jon found himself laughing. “Thanks for walking me back to the office, by the way. I’m sorry we couldn’t have lunch today.”

“I totally understand. I have to get back to campus for class soon anyway.” Jon waved off. “Rain check for a movie night, though?”

“Absolutely. Go buy a lot of tissues, wine and chocolate, because I am in the mood for some tearjerkers.” Kara demanded. “And…Damian is more than welcome to join us, if he’d like.”

“He’d never.” Jon promised as they jogged across a crosswalk. “But he’ll appreciate the invite.”

“Are you just saying that, or would he really?”

“Honestly, he really would.” Jon swore. “He’s trying not to take little things like that for granted anymore. Not since…well. You know.”

Kara frowned. “…I miss him too.”

“Everyone does.” Jon murmured as they stopped outside a building. Some people waved to Kara as they exited and jumped into a taxi nearby. “He was the best of all of us.”

“Give Damian my regards, and a hug for me. Tell him I’m sorry about Dick, if you think it’s appropriate.” Kara murmured as she turned to her purse, and began digging in it. After a moment, she held out a book. It looked old, and pages were misshaped, almost like they’d been gnawed on, or burned. “First, last and only edition.”

Jon took the tome, marveling at the etched green cover, and symbols seemingly floating around the image. But then he frowned. “Kara.” He sighed. “You know my Kryptonian isn’t that good.”

“Well then this will be a great tool to learn.” She smiled, squeezing his bicep. Someone suddenly called Kara from the door. She smiled and waved back before glancing to Jon. “Gotta go, kiddo. It was great seeing you! Tell your pops hi for me!”

She turned, and began to jog away, when Jon called after her. “Kara, wait!”

She did, glancing over her shoulder.

“Give me a quick summary?” He tried with a lopsided grin. “You know, to keep me interested?”

Kara twisted her lips in thought, then smiled. “Nightwing and Flamebird always find each other in the end.”

She took a sip of her coffee and disappeared into her office.

~~

By two o’clock in the morning that very night, Jon sat at the desk in his apartment, tears pouring down his face.

The legend was magical, breathtaking, awe-inspiring…but heartbreaking. The most heartbreaking thing he’d ever read.

But it also made him realize exactly what he needed to do. Exactly what his future was.

Exactly who his future was.

Without thinking, he wiped the tears from his eyes, and laughed as he stood, turning towards his window.

It would be a quick flight to Gotham, and surely Alfred was still awake at this hour.

~~

Damian stood on the top of Wayne Tower, staring at the city below him. The city he’d come to think of as home. The city that was…his.

He felt weird without the cape, without the hood. Was still getting used to the tight, plain bodysuit. The lighter armour. The dip of red across his chest.

He could take Grayson’s name, but he could never take his colors. That blue was too pure. Damian refused to taint it.

He inhaled and held his breath, then exhaled slowly. It was his first night in his new gear – would the villains know who he was? Would they mock him? Could he live up to his brother’s standards? Would he honor his memory?

“Damn.” He heard off to his side. “You look good.”

Damian glanced over, and found himself at a loss for words. The other man was in a similarly simple bodysuit, though instead of black, it was a deep blue. Opposite of the downward red arrow on Damian’s chest, the bright, near-blinding golden arrow on the other pointed upwards, almost looking like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Damian stared for a moment, taking it in, before meeting Jon’s eyes. “This is new.”

“You like?” Jon asked, practically shy. “Alfred helped me make it.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Jon stepped forwards. His boots, which matched the shimmering yellow on his chest, seemed to flicker as he walked, like fire. “I mean, he helped make yours, and it’s only natural our designs match a little bit.”

“Why would they need to match?” Damian asked. Then he squinted. “Jonathan Kent, have you chosen a new moniker?”

“I did indeed.” Jon grinned. “Surely Dick told you how he got his name.”

“He did.”

“Did he tell you the story behind it?”

“He did not. But I’ve heard of it.” Damian found his voice going quieter, his throat drying up. “Your father told me, I believe.”

“Mhm.” Jon reached out, gently taking Damian’s hand in his, raising it between them. “And do you remember how it goes?”

Damian blinked, then smiled. “Refresh my memory.”

“Nightwing can’t exist without Flamebird.” Jon smirked. He pressed his lips to Damian’s knuckles. “And no matter the universe, no matter the situation, they always find each other in the end.”

“…Well, Flamebird.” Damian whispered softly. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad you found me too.” Jon stood back up. “Ready for our first official patrol in the new digs? Say goodbye to Robin and Superboy forever?”

“Do you want to call it our first official patrol?” Damian let his grin widen. “Or perhaps our first official date?”

Jon gaped at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “For real?”

“For real.” Damian promised. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting-”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jon surged forward, wrapping him in his arms and lifting him off the tower’s ledge as he smashed their mouths together. Damian let his surprise linger for only a second, before grabbing both sides of Jon’s head and returning the gesture.

The moment felt like it lasted both an eternity and no longer than a blink. When they parted, they were both out of breath, and trembling from the emotional adrenaline.

“Flamebird.” Damian breathed as Jon lowered him, his hands still on Jon’s face. “I think I like it.”

“Good. Because I didn’t have any backups.” Jon chuckled.

“It suits you, I think.” Damian smiled.

“Nightwing suits you just as well.” Jon countered. “…Dick would be so proud.”

Damian just lowered his gaze, but allowed himself to keep smiling.

“…Well.” Damian exhaled, looking out into the city. “Shall we?”

Jon bowed, holding his arm out. “After you, ‘Wing.”

Damian laughed and turned, stepping off the building and allowing himself to freefall. “Follow me, ‘Bird.”

Jon smiled, and jumped right after him.

[livvywrites]

[ ID: the image depicts a knights helm with a pointed face looking to the right. it’s been edited to look like an oil painting, and overlaid with a pale grey-green color. over the image is written ‘a conspicuous lack of dragons’ in a script front, and beneath that, ‘livvy moore’ in a serif font. /end ID. ]

i posted an excerpt of this with the placeholder title “the perils of taking quests from little old ladies who live in the woods.” i’m still rather fond of that title, but it’s a little too long xD

this was written mostly as an exercise to kind of... shake the mental cobwebs off, after seeing a post about accessibility + princesses in towers. i really liked how it came out, so i decided to polish it up and post it :D i meant to have it up sooner, but... life :p

you can also read this on my website :)

a conspicuous lack of dragons

The tower is exactly as the old woman described. White brick, with a deep purple roof, standing on a mountain at the edge of a prosperous kingdom. Only a few windows adorn the top of the tower. The rest is bare, and unadorned. You are… a little relieved. The old woman had said that this tower belonged to a dragon. You weren’t particularly looking forward to fighting it—and though you’re sure you still might have to, at least you have time for a little more reconnaissance.

Save for the base, where there is a plain wooden door.

You… cannot say you were expecting that. You swing off of your mare, and stow your more important belongings with her, keeping with you only your sword, shield, and medicine kit. You examine the door carefully, and find that—at least from this side—it is as plain as it appears.

You open the door, and step inside.

The base of the tower is rather bare. There are a few crates and boxes, covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs. There is a conspicuous lack of traps. You frown, step further in, and wait for the door to slam behind you.

It does not.

Suspicions piqued, you start up the twisting and winding ramp (not stairs!) that lead to the top. You draw your sword as you do, ready to strike if anything—or anyone—pops out at you.

Nothing does.

There are still no traps; no guards; and no hints of magic. The most arduous thing about it is the trip to the top. Another plain, wooden door is there; though it has been painted a pale lilac. There is a small peephole near the top.

You see no strange mechanisms. No glowing runes. No door knockers with faces, ready to entice you into a battle of riddles.

Your frown only deepens. You push the door open, fully expecting to be greeted by the most heinous monster you’ve ever faced.

Instead, you find a young woman. You can only presume that this is the princess. She is seated on a plush couch, reading a rather thick book. She looks up at the creak of the door, and gives you a brief once over.

One brow raised, she asks, “Well? What are you doing here?”

“I’m… here to rescue you?” you say, but it comes out as more of a question. You feel dumb. Also numb. Off-balance. You aren’t sure what’s going on at all. Nothing here is what you expected it to be, and you’re not sure how to take that at all.

“Oh,” the princess says. She looks disinterested again. “Mm. Thank you, but no thank you. I am perfectly content where I am.”

“I… but…” You stop. You’re not really sure where you were going with that.

The princess sighs. She marks her place, and lays the book on a side table. She gestures to one of the chairs. “Let me guess,” she says. “A lovely little old lady hired you. Very sweet, greets everyone with a plate of cookies. She shuffles more than walks and leans on a cane. Very harmless. Very unassuming. She told you a sob story about a poor princess, shut in a tower for… Oh, I can’t imagine what she used this time. Someone was jealous? They were afraid I would be stolen away? I’ve been cursed?”

“Um.” You’ve taken a seat now. “A dragon had taken you and hid you here, to hold you for ransom.”

The princess rolls her eyes. “Ah. We’re stereotyping dragons, now. Lovely.” She rearranges the blanket on her legs. “The truth, then. I am a princess, she did not lie to you about that. However, I am not in this tower because of dragons, curses, jealousy, beauty, or whatever reasons she can dream up. This tower was, in fact, my idea.”

“Why?” you blurt.

The princess smiles. There’s something a little secretive about it, like she’s letting you in on something. “You see,” she says, “I was born a little different from the rest of the world. Not much, mind, but enough to make it hard for me to function in your world. I’ve got a touch of power in me. I can, of course, cast spells. But that is not why I am here. I am here because I also have a touch of the Sight. And that… well. It makes me a little… sensitive.” She drums her fingers on the arm of the sofa. “It is hard to explain, because I can do so many different little tricks, but I will try. Since you came all this way.

“The main one, I think, is being able to sense emotions. This one is not something I can turn off. Being in a crowded room is… overwhelming. I can feel what everyone else is feeling, and they are hardly ever feeling the same things. It is enough to drown my own emotions out, and it is—I am sure you can imagine—unpleasant.

“I can also sense surface thoughts, sometimes. When they are very loud, or when I care to turn an ear to them. When I was younger, I could not control this, and… thus, crowds of people were, once again, very uncomfortable.

“And, of course, I can predict things. With an object—clear or mirrored, preferably—I can see things going on in other places. It takes focus, and practice, and it helps if I’ve been there or have a clear idea of what I am looking for, but it is possible. I can catch glimpses of things that will happen, or could happen.

“I can also see the future of an object, if I touch it. Or look into its past, see where it’s been. This was another thing I could not control as a young one, and made things very, very unpleasant.

“There are other things, too, but these are the three that made me seek solace here. I get visitors. I leave sometimes. But, yes. My being here is very much a choice. I thank you, again, for your concern. But it is not warranted.”

“I…” You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I do not understand why I was sent here, then. If you are not in danger.”

“Ah. Well.” The princess smiles wryly. “The old woman who sent you here is not an old woman at all. That is the disguise she dons, when she sends people to me. I believe because it makes her seem more trustworthy… or perhaps because she thinks its funny. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. She sent you here, the same way she did the others, because she wants to use you to get past my wards.” She turns her gaze from you, and looks at the door you came in. “Isn’t that right, Muriel?”

In the doorway stands a woman who is nothing like the little old lady who plied you with cookies and a sob story about a kidnapped princess. She has long golden hair that shines in the window light. She walks with a finely carved staff; a glowing orb at the top. When she gets close, however, you can see her eyes. And those—those are the eyes of the old lady. Warm brown with a touch of humor. She sits in the empty seat.

“You turned the last three away at the door,” Muriel says. “I was beginning to think that you were angry with me.”

The princess hums. “I don’t know why you bother with the pretext,” she says. “You could just have them deliver a letter.”

“I could. But then however would I test their virtue?”

“Virtue?” you ask, before you can stop yourself. You are still so terribly confused. You lost the plot somewhere around when you opened that first door—and you don’t think you’d ever quite caught back up.

Muriel looks at you, as if she was surprised that you were still there. “Well, yes, darling,” she says. “First to see if you were willing to face a dragon to rescue a princess you’d never even met. And then to see if you could get through the doors. They don’t let you in unless you’re pure of intention.”

That doesn’t really clear anything up.

“But why?”

“I presume to keep the princess safe.”

“That’s not what our good knight is asking, and you know it,” the princess chides.

Muriel grins. “Because I’ve need of you, good knight. We’ll get to that. For now…” She looks back the princess. “What do you think, dear? You know I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s.”

“Speak more plainly, Muriel,” the princess says. “I’ve no idea which scheme you’re speaking about now. I can’t possibly keep track of them all.”

Muriel huffs. “The knight, dear.”

The princess gives you another once over. “Depends,” she says. “What is it you’re needing?”

“The gryphon, I think.”

The princess seems to consider that, then sniffs. “No. You’d be better off asking one of the other three.”

You feel indignant.

“I would send this one for the unicorn.”

Less indignant. But only just.

“Oh, truly?” Muriel looks at you again, and there is a new appreciation in her eyes. “Well. You know best, on the subject of unicorns, I suppose.”

“It isn’t that I don’t appreciate the flattery, because I do. However, I really must ask you to drop the pretense. You didn’t come all of this way to ask me that. Speak true, Muriel.”

“Perhaps I just wanted to see you.” Muriel’s tone and expression goes coy, almost coquettish.

A ghost of a smile appears on the princess’s mouth. “If you wish to engage me in courtship, Muriel, there are far less roundabout ways to go about it. Which, mind, I would appreciate far more than the games.”

Muriel flushes, almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

The princess inclines her head, and in a gentler tone says, “Your affections would be welcome.”

“Truly?”

“I would not lie to you, dear,” the princess says. “However, once again, I must ask you to speak the truth. Why have you come?”

Muriel sighs. “Your perceptiveness grates, you know?”

“So you have said.”

“Fine. I have come to steal you away again.”

“Ah. Where to?” The princess looks remarkably calm at that comment, though your hackles have raised. Wherever Muriel wishes to go, you do not think the princess should have any part of it. You have a feeling, though, that if you said anything, the princess would—kindly—tell you to mind your own business.

“The Wilds,” Muriel says.

This means nothing to you, but the princess nods.

“Of course,” she murmurs to herself. “Right, well. When do you wish to leave?”

“Once I’ve gotten this one packed off,” Muriel says. She gestures to you.

“Do I get a say?” you ask. Demand.

“Well of course, dear,” Muriel says. “You’ll either take the mission I give you or… go off to do whatever you do when you’re not taking quests from strange women. Either way.”

You huff, but nod.

“Very well,” the princess says. “I am agreeable.”

“Excellent.” Muriel sends her a quick flash of a smile. The glimpse you catch is soft and subtle. The princess’s own lips quirk in response… and then suddenly, both their eyes are on you again.

Muriel is looking at you like she’s a cat and you’re… something small and skittering. You don’t know if she’s going to pounce, or if she just wishes to watch, but either way—you’re more than a little unnerved.

The princess, on the other hand, looks kind and a little amused. “Any questions?” she prompts.

“Why did she—you—need my help to get in the tower? If you two are friends, I mean.”

“Because Muriel practices dark magic,” the princess says plainly.

You start; sitting up right as if a rod has just been plunged through your spine.

The princess laughs. “That does not mean that she is evil. Your knightly virtue is still intact. Dark magic is simply a tool, like any other, and Muriel wields it well.”

“But…”

The princess reaches out, and lays a hand on yours. You can feel the weight of it through your gauntlet, though not much else. “Muriel is something of a trickster, it is true. She lies. Sometimes for a good reason, and sometimes simply for her own amusement. She does not mean any harm when she does it… and so, she will never quite be sorry for it. It is her way. But let this be a lesson to you. If you work with her—or, truly, anyone else—do your research before blindly following what they tell you.” She pats your hand, and withdraws. “Now. Muriel will explain what she wants you to do, if you let her, while I get ready.”

She stands, folds the blanket she had been using, and takes her book off to another room. You are left alone with Muriel, and you eye her warily.

Muriel does not seem to mind your distrust. If anything, it seems to amuse her more. “So,” she says. “Unicorns.”

“I won’t kill one,” you say, immediately.

Muriel laughs. “Nor would I ask that of you,” she says. “I do not wish for you to kill one. Nor maim one, capture one, or any other nasty thing your mind has conjured up.” She reaches into a satchel, and pulls out a small vial. Inside is a beautiful, shimmering liquid. “You are familiar with Eaton’s River, yes?”

You nod. You’d been, once.

“Mm. If you follow the river north, to its source, you’ll come to the mountains. More specifically, to the forest at the base of those mountains. Keep going, and you’ll reach a waterfall—and, of course, a lake. The lake has a dock… and likely, a rowboat. Do not take the rowboat, though you may be tempted. Instead, pour the contents of this vial into the lake.

“When that is done, make camp by the lake. You may drink from it, but do not bathe in it. Go further down the river for that—past the ring of trees surrounding the area. You shouldn’t have to stay for long. No more than three days. Eventually, you will see a unicorn. Do not worry about missing it. Its presence will wake you up.

“Do nothing to it, unless it does something to you, first. If it speaks to you, those words are yours alone. If it lays its head in your lap, that moment is yours to keep. When it leaves, you are free to go as well.

“However, there are things I wish you to keep an eye out for. First, a white deer. Stag or doe, it matters not. Only that is pure white. Do not kill it, but if you see it, I wish to know about it when both you and I have returned.

“Second, the unicorn itself. I wish to know the color of its horn; whether or not it has any markings; and if it is alone or not.

“Lastly, the water. Tell me if there is anything built on the mound in the middle; if there is anything strange about the boat beyond the urge to get in it; whether anything happens when you pour the water in; and most importantly… whether or not you see anyone or anything inside the water during your time there. Even if you believe it is a hallucination.

“Am I clear?”

You blink, but nod.

“Excellent.” She pulls out a piece of paper, and she hands that to you as well. “These are the instructions I have just stated. Now. Tell me, knight. Will you do this?”

“Why?” you ask.

“A vested interest in magical ecology,” Muriel says primly.

The princess emerges, a bag slung over her shoulder. She approaches you both. Whatever she sees on your face has her smiling. “You’ve gone and confused the poor thing, Muriel. Are you allergic to explaining yourself?”

“Yes,” Muriel says. “You can’t see it, but my arms have broken out into terrible hives.”

The princess snorts, and looks at you. “The unicorn needs to be checked on. They’re quite rare, you know, and it’s good to make sure they’re still healthy. I imagine Muriel also wishes to know if it has made any friends, or reproduced.”

Muriel inclined her head.

“The lake has its own creatures within. They’re not friendly, so do not engage with them. They’ll drown you. The potion she’s given you is… highly magical. In this case, it does many things. It will… the closest I can think of is ‘get them drunk.’ They will still overpower you if you get in the water, but they won’t actively pursue you.

“It is also power enough to attract the unicorn, to ensure that you get a look at it. And, it has the added bonus of cleaning the water out a bit.” The princess shrugged. “An ingenious little vial.”

“And the deer?” you ask.

“Attracted to the presence of the unicorn,” the princess says. “Or perhaps caused by the unicorn’s own magic—I’ve never been quite sure. Either way, it means that the land there is responding to the presence of the unicorn. It’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

Muriel said you had a choice in this, but… the way they spoke, it sounded like you already decided to go. Which… you will, of course, because while this is not the quest you had envisioned for yourself, it still sounds important, and befitting of your training. They way they assume is a bit grating, but… Whatever. Your instructor had once told you that, of those who give you quests, magical folk rank just behind nobility in how grating they could be.

“Right then,” Muriel says, at your nod. “Time for the lot of us to be off. We’ve got things to do.”

You stand. “I still don’t quite understand who the two of you are,” you admit. There is more going on here than you understand—context that you’re lacking.

“We’re a Seer and a Witch,” Muriel says, as if this makes things plain. “A trickster and a truth-seer. A commoner and a princess.”

“We are what we are,” the princess says, laying a hand on Muriel’s arm. “And what we are works very well together. That is all that matters.”

“But… I mean… what do you do?”

“What needs doing,” the princess says. “Whether that is relocating unicorns, closing portals to the abyss, or removing curses.” She shrugs. “Don’t worry about it too much. Either it will become clearer to you one day… or it will not.”

“Then you mean to see me again?”

“Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?” Muriel asks. “Whether you decide to work with me again.”

You suppose that’s true. You give a nod, and this time it is Muriel who smiles at you.

“Off we go, then,” she says.

The three of you exit the tower, and part ways at the door. You retrieve your things where you left them, and look on towards the horizon. It’s a long way from here to the river.

You shoulder your pack, and start walking.

[an-ambivalent]

Uchiha Therapist: Part I

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke 

 [Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So,  she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present  in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour. 

Word Count: 4K 

--

Story start; A day in the life of [Name] 

On the night that started it all, when [Name] was feeling particularly disheartened and dissatisfied with her life, she had vented her frustrations and sorrow to her good friend Ino Yamanaka. Although many things in her life were going right, and she was privileged enough to have the chance to pursue her wanted career, it came at a cost. Her entire life schedule was fixed around her post graduation studies, other little spared time was for cooking and doing chores, and the rest was for sleeping. [Name] lacked the time for earning money, and doing things that were higher on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs — dating to find someone to create a meaningful connection with, or working on her previous hobbies. 

The two friends had been consuming enough booze to be a little more than tipsy but not enough to be drunk. Some words were slurred, the fine motor control had decreased a bit, and with their faces slightly flushed, Ino was convinced that she had the best idea to [Name]’s problems. 

Giggling at her own idea, Ino had snatched [Name]’s laptop from in front of them, and tapped various keyboard keys for joogle to search up. Once she saw the results, she clicked on one of the many websites shown as a result, and after a few more minutes of more clicks and keyboard taps, she had turned the laptop towards [Name] to see, with a triumph grin on her face. 

“A sugar daddy,” Ino claimed proudly. 

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“A sugar daddy — it’s the perfect solution for your troubles. Not only will you get to earn more than enough, it covers the dating aspect too! Someone to spend your time with, to sleep over with — just without getting too attached. You’ll have a social life once again that doesn’t consist of you drinking booze with me or our other friends and you can finally afford to look decent again,” Ino explained straightforwardly. 

[Name]’s eye twitched. “What do you mean finally afford to look decent again?” she inquired in a low voice, and glared at Ino, who smiled sheepishly at her. 

“Well you’ve been a fashion disaster for sometime now—“

“Sorry I don’t have rich parents like the rest of you to buy me extravagant brands,” [Name] retorted, and a tick mark of anger bulged on Ino’s head. 

“Well Sakura is a commoner like you too and even when she was a starving student, she still had a fashion sense. You don’t need to buy something expensive like jucci to look decent!” Ino snapped, and [Name] scowled at her. 

“Whatever. This discussion is pointless anyway since I’m not going to become a sugar baby,” [Name] responded, and went to grab a bottle to consume more alcohol.  However, the uneasy and anxious expression that Ino wore made her halt amidst her movements. All of a sudden, a cold shiver ran down [Name]’s back, and she felt a sense of dread building up in her gut. 

“Please tell me you didn’t,” [Name] pleaded and Ino winced inwardly, before she turned the laptop around to show [Name]. 

“I did… I already signed you up. You have a date with him this Friday night.” 

“INO!” 

That was the gist of how [Name] had become entangled in her predicament with Madara Uchiha, and what was meant to be nights for [Name] giving her daddy some casual sugar, turned into an diabetic sugar addiction. 

It was baffling really, how as children, people can be better in following orders than they can be as adults. And for someone like [Name], who had been studying psychology for years now, and began to work with the theories, one would think that practicing what she preached would be easier; she was great at helping her clients, but not much at helping herself. 

“Make sure you don’t go with strangers” — a lesson that had been engraved in children at school and from their parents for their own safety. It was one of the most basic rules of common sense to evade danger; however, it was the rule [Name] failed to follow. Instead of not going through with her fixed date with a sugar daddy, who was a complete stranger and who knows pose what danger, she had gone through with it. And she had not even taken any caution to have their first meeting in a public place, no. She had gone to his home, which was the only place he accepted for their meeting, because she was too anxious to say no or not go through with it. 

She really wondered how she was able to help her clients so well when she could not even manage her own anxiety. 

So, now, here she sat. Since by Ino’s definition, [Name] was a walking fashion disaster, the blonde had refused to let her go without her help. Their tastes differed, but even [Name] had to admit that Ino had done an incredible job in helping her choose an outfit that was suited to her tastes. Granted, it was skimpier than what she usually wore and more figure defining, but it did make her look really nice. She did not look like a savage mess with evident dark eyebags who appeared to have just gotten out of bed and went to work straightaway like she did on a daily basis. But she felt exposed and uncomfortable in the setting she was not accustomed to.

The penthouse she had been invited to was extravagantly luxurious; the small dining for the two of them (her and soon to be her sugar daddy) was right next to the giant window in the living room that showed a beautiful night view of the Konoha city. Lighting in the room was ambient and romantic, and there was a small pizza, that looked ridiculously expensive for what it's worth, and red wine settled before her. While she did not want to indulge in such luxury, feeling on the edge of the seat because of how her sugar daddy to be was scrutinizing her with calculating onyx eyes, and never being the one to refuse free food, she mindlessly ate it, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“You know, usually you’re supposed to make conversation and sell yourself to try and convince me of why I should stick with you rather than someone else,” Madara spoke, and this was so abrupt and unanticipated on [Name]’s part that she froze half way through biting her food. Her cheeks felt hot in embarrassment, and she awkwardly coughed loudly before looking up at Madara. Although he found her antics to be somewhat adorable, he kept a straight face. After all, to gain the attention of a man of his status, there were many who did the strangest things to appease him. Madara was not a man to be tricked so foolishly. 

“Why should I sell myself when you haven’t convinced me to why I should be your….uh, sugar b-baby rather than s-someone else’s?” [Name] responded. She had started off strongly, but near the end when it came to referring to herself as a sugar baby and realisation of the situation sunk in, she felt herself become more flustered. 

Now, it was not odd for people to be intimidated by Madara. However, acting in confidence at the same time, and to question his authority, that was new. The corner of his lips twitched upwards in amusement. He leaned back in his chair and raised a fine black eyebrow at [Name]. 

“And why should I have to sell myself to you? I’m the one who, essentially, is paying for everything,” he challenged, and [Name] scoffed at him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s really costing you,” she mumbled under her breath, before clearing her throat. “Someone else can pay me too.” 

“You had no reviews on your profile, you’re lucky that I even chose to click on it. Usually, it’s hard to get started since no one bothers with anyone with no reviews.” 

[Name] shrugged. “That was your own choice, don’t shift the situation onto me. And besides, how do you know it's only reviews that count online? I might know a lot of other sugar daddies I had in my past that desperately want me but it's lucky that I chose to give you, a stranger, the chance.” 

Madara was amused by the fact that [Name] had used his own logic against him, and could not help but smirk. Even though it was more than obvious through her behaviour that she was an absolute newbie to this, he decided to humour her. 

"Well, I am an Uchiha," Madara said simply, as if that sole reason explained everything. 

[Name] blinked in confusion. "Uhhh, okay…? Well, I'm [Surname]. That explains why you should choose me.” 

This time, her response really did leave Madara confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was clear confusion written on his face. 

“You don’t know the Uchiha?” he asked incredulously. The urge to sigh in an exaggerated manner and snap at him was strong, but [Name] decided against it. With the way he spoke in that condescending tone, and expected [Name] to treat him as if he was of utmost importance, made it more than obvious to her that he was used to being treated as the highest authority. Perhaps he was of importance and not watching herself around him could lead her into a huge mess. But [Name] did not particularly care about his status or whatever he had going on that made him expect her to seemingly kiss the floor he walked on. If she cared about authorities and sucking up to people, then she would not be training to be a therapist in the first place. There were going to be times when she would have to fight authorities and regulations with her sweat and blood for the sake of her clients. And really, if [Name] did care, she would not have been here in the first place -- having dinner with a complete stranger. 

“Uh I do?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. Madara opened his mouth to respond to her, but he shifted the focus of the conversation to another topic. He felt even more perplexed by [Name] now because how could she not know the Uchiha? 

“Nevermind, it’s not of importance. Tell me, why are you in this line of business? You don’t seem,” fit for it, he wanted to say, but chose his words carefully. “The type to want to do this.” 

In response, [Name] felt flustered. She wondered if it was really that obvious that she was not used to it and Madara was simply humouring her. She could very well tell him the truth that it was because Ino had tricked her into it. However, that would make her seem gullible. Now that she may be committing to this, she knew she needed to build a good reputation for herself. She decided to tell the half-truth. 

“I need the money,” she answered in a murmur, before she brought the glass of wine to her lips, and took a huge drink from it. 

Madara watched her with analytical eyes as she downed her alcohol, taking no moment to savour the taste. He had also noticed how she was on her third plate of their dinner and wondered if she had any decency and how she was capable of eating so much. 

“Your job doesn’t pay you enough?” he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, before he followed [Name]’s example and downed his remaining wine in one go too. He had never done that before, and after finishing it, he had to admit there was an odd sense of satisfaction of not savouring its every taste and drinking it all together at once. 

Madara was staring at her with anticipation and worry embedded deep in his ebony coloured irides. Frankly speaking, [Name] had not have someone look at her with such concern in a long time. Generally, on the rare occasions she did speak freely about her worries, whoever she shared her problems with would give her their own input rather than simply listening to her and asking her the right questions that would help her discuss or figure out her own problem. The sight of it made her heart beat faster, and she unknowingly found herself talking before she even what she was doing.

“It’s not that… Well, actually I don’t even work. I barely have time to breath, working is my last priority right now,” she murmured, nervously fiddling with her fingers, as she observed Madara from the corner of her eye.

“While I cannot relate to your financial struggles, I understand the situation you’re in. Becoming so busy because of a goal you once had, that you question whether it’s even worth pursuing it anymore. You lose sight of who used to be and the things that brought you pleasure. There’s always something to do that you can’t even remember the last time you truly felt alive,” Madara said thoughtfully, and his words caused [Name]’s eyes to widen. 

“And no matter how much you want to try and change things, it just feels like you’ve been stuck in the same cycle and it keeps repeating over and over and over again,” [Name] murmured, sighing dejectedly. “I really hate the world.” 

Madara chuckled at her declaration as he lifted another bottle of wine that was on their table. 

“Me too. Why don’t we discuss more things we hate about the world and learn about what we in common over more wine?” he suggested. The edge of suspicion and tenseness he held before was no longer present. Instead, he was now feeling much more relaxed than he had in awhile, and felt intrigued about [Name]. The twinkle in his eyes in hopes to talk to her more caused her lips to stretch into a cute flustered smile. 

“Sure.” 

____________________

It was the week which was like the last and there was no change but stress levels felt higher. Even after a decent ten hours sleep, [Name] felt exhaustion crawling like bugs underneath the epidermis layer of her skin. Dark bags were swelled prominently underneath her eyes. Her hair was tied carelessly in a messy bun that fell to one side; it wasn’t pretty like the one’s beauty gurus showed. It was loose but the knot was tight enough to make the weight of the hair feel too evident with each passing moment. Taking a quick sip from her steaming mocha, she greeted the administrators on the front desk that were the first point of contact between clients and the therapists who worked further back in the office. This office was where [Name] was presently working to gain practice experience in her second practicum. Generally, students in training were simply meant to observe and learn. If permission given by their supervisor, they could step in. But in [Name]’s case, for the sake of the story’s plot, the office she had chosen this time were understaffed. And since she already had finished one practicum and had quite a lot of other experiences from volunteering under her belt, she was trusted to work independently with whatever clients may be assigned to her. 

“Good morning Moegi and Konohamaru,” [Name] greeted, and the two looked up from their screens. When they noticed it was [Name], they beamed at her and returned her greeting in response. 

“How was your weekend [Name]?” Konohamaru asked, as he handed her the appointment schedule of everyone she would seeing today. 

[Name] was ready to give her autopilot response of it being "okay" and then quickly shooting a "how about you" like she usually did. However, before those words left her mouth she paused to ponder: truly, how had her weekend been? 

It was okay. Actually, it had been more than okay.

It had surprisingly been a lot of fun. When she had went through with her sugar daddy date, she had somewhat expected that she may end up having sex with a rich man she would not have been attracted to and receive compensation for sleeping with him. But that had not been the case. Madara was quite attractive, and although the dinner date had begun with a few subtle jeers thrown at each other, she had ended up having a good time with him. The fact that she felt safe enough to be vulnerable with him in the way she didn't even feel that level of comfort with her friends, and shared things she hadn't even known she was bottling up - - it was such a profound experience. To go from discussing their hatred for many things, to confessing secrets and feelings they weren't judged for, but rather, listened to, to getting so drunk that they sang cheesy songs and ended the date with their own unplanned karaoke night, it left an odd feeling of satisfaction and joy in [Name]'s chest that she had not felt in a while. The knowledge of knowing that she would be seeing Madara again soon left her feeling embarrassed. 

"It was," she began, and she covered her face with one hand to hide her embarrassment. "Really nice and fun. I had a good time," she murmured somewhat quietly. Then, right away, she scurried off towards her office before they could question her further or talk about their own weekends.

[Name] had left Moegi and Konohamaru surprised with her response, and the two turned to each other wondering if they had heard right. 

It was after lunch when [Name] was indulging in some [favourite fruit] iced tea, hoping some sugar would help her stay awake when she had an appointment with a client she would be seeing for the first time. She had settled her drink on the table beside her, walked through the hallway, and into the main office with reception and waiting area for clients. 

It was there she saw a young man not much older than herself. He had warm ivory skin and black hair bangs that framed his face. The back of his head looked like a duck’s butt. He must have heard her footsteps because before she even called out his name, he had looked up. When her eyes met his, she took a sharp intake of breath because he looked oddly similar to Madara. The way his obsidian eyes scrutinised her made her feel uneasy. Nonetheless, she gave him, what she hoped appeared to be a welcoming and reassuring smile. 

“You are Sasuke?” she assumed, and he stood up. 

“Hn,” Sasuke responded simply, and at the lack of any greeting or even a facial expression caused [Name] to sweatdrop. But nonetheless, she carried on like she did with all of her patients. 

“Before we start your session, did you want anything? A hot chocolate, coffee, water?” 

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at this before he replied nonchalantly. “A black coffee.” 

[Name] nodded and just before she could speak once more, a head of messy black curls invaded her vision and she was greeted with a smile that was almost too falsely cheerie for her taste. 

“Hello! I’m Shisui, Sasuke’s cousin. And stoic face over there is Itachi, Sasuke’s brother. You forgot about us Miss. Therapist,” Shisui greeted brightly. At his exuberant persona, Sasuke glared at him. The one who he had introduced as Itachi, sighed, and [Name] looked at them apologetically. 

“Oh sorry, I didn’t notice you. Can I get anything for you as well? If you’ve been with Sasuke until this point, I can assume you’ll be staying with him.” 

Itachi nodded and stepped up front and held out his hand for [Name] to shake, which she obliged to almost instantly. 

“Yes. We are here to oversee my little brother’s recovery at my Father’s orders and make sure there is progress,” he explained simply. His words were harsh. It was evident in the way Shisui had become tight lipped, and how Sasuke had now averted his glare onto Itachi. [Name]’s eyes shifted to observe their reaction and then returned to Itachi who was looking at her stoically. It wasn’t too obvious. However, she noticed with the way Itachi’s jaw was clenched more tightly than it had been before. This change in his body language clearly indicated that he had not wanted to say what he did and he did not want to be here. And from the intense glare Sasuke regarded him with, [Name] safely assumed that whatever was going on with Sasuke, Itachi seemed to be a part of it. Underneath Itachi’s pretty eyes, she noticed a sense of tiredness that was all — physical, mental, emotional and more. She saw that same sense of exhaustion on her own face each day. 

The session had not even started and this was already turning out to become so complicated. [Name] hoped she would still have her sanity by the time she graduated and came to do this full-time. There were some of her colleagues who never bothered with rules or following basic procedures to assure their clients comfort and wellbeing. Lucky for her clients, she did. And when she needed to, she would bend over backwards and willingly go beyond her capabilities for them. 

She knew from the way they all held themselves, and particularly with how Itachi had spoken that they were of important status. Their ‘father asked [them] to be here’ was a subtle way of implying that she could get in huge trouble if she did not comply with them. But [Name] just didn’t care. 

She turned to Sasuke with a stern look on her face and motioned towards Shisui and Itachi. 

“Do you want them there to support you or would you feel more comfortable with just you? Either way is fine. It’s your decision,” [Name] said smiling at him. 

The three raven-haired males that had been introducing themselves moments ago stilled and their eyes widened in shock. Shisui was the first one to snap out of it. 

“Uh, Miss. Therapist, I don’t think you know—“ 

“I know what I’m doing. Please refrain from implying such things and let my client decide for himself,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes. Shisui went to warn once more, but he was stopped by Itachi, who shook his head. 

Itachi’s gaze went to Sasuke, and then back to [Name] as he spoke. 

“I’m sure she knows what she is doing. We all wish for Sasuke’s wellbeing. We won’t intrude if he doesn’t want us to,” he proclaimed. That was his way of hinting for Shisui to drop the subject, and reassuring both Sasuke and [Name] that he was on their side, particularly with Sasuke, letting him know that he would not let their father find this out. 

“Aniki,” Sasuke murmured in disbelief, staring at his brother for a few moments. Then, he looked back at [Name] to see she was still giving him the same sweet and gentle smile she had greeted him with. 

Maybe, perhaps, this time, signing up for therapy would be worth it. Maybe he could allow himself to talk to her and not fear judgement and consequences like he had with his previous therapists. 

“I’d like it to be by myself,” he murmured, looking away from her with slight pink cheeks. As his eyes had drifted away from hers and met Shisui’s, who gave him a warning look, his shoulders tensed and his eyes snapped back to [Name] right away. “P-Please and t-thank you.” 

He did not need to glance at Shisui again to know the oldest male was now grinning at him. 

Seemingly, his politeness seemed to be unexpected and Sasuke wanted to scoff at how [Name]’s eyes had lit up in pride. It almost annoyed him because did they really think he was that dimwitted? 

“You’re welcome. Now, follow me please. Shisui and Itachi, our session will be around an hour so you can come to pick him up in that time,” [Name] said. The two of them nodded and waved the two goodbye as Sasuke followed after [Name] to her office. 

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A/N:  (tbh, uhhh, I plan for this to be a yandere story [whispers: eventually] but this chapter is fluffy. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this or if I’ll add more Uchihas as love interests and turn into a reverse harem for [Name], I’m gonna make shit up as I go along and hope it turns into something decent lol gang gang. I just need to write a story I can write without worries and just enjoy the process of it rather than caring about where it leads. So yeet. I hope you join me on this journey <3)

[dragonofthedepths]

29/100 (29th of June 2021)

(29/100) Written/posted for the #100daysofwriting challenge by @the-wip-project

I spent several hours today filling out a survey on my fanfiction reading habits! This was not supposed to take several hours, but my inability to answer any free form question without writing multiple paragraphs dragged it out much longer than it was supposed to be! Considering that this was done around baking, having a friend over, and finishing a drawing that according to the timer on my art program took me a cumulative 22.5 hours to complete, I figured I would just copy and paste some of my more interesting answers here for today!

Here’s the link to the survey if you want to take it yourself, apparently it’s part of some kind of collage study: 

https://robertgordonuniversity.onlinesurveys.ac.uk/fanfiction-questionnaire

Question:

What type(s) of library/libraries do you use? What activities or purposes do you use them for?

Answer:

The local library. I go there every now and then when I’m looking for an actual book to read, I usually have what I want already in mind, but might end up picking up something new from the same section if anything particularly catches my interest. Very occasionally I grab a few reference books, usually on things like religions that are harder to find a comprehensive reference for online beneath all the sensationalism and opinions.

I almost always spend at last a couple hours there, looking through my selection and reading a chapter or two. the only reason I’ll leave without sitting down and beginning at least one book is if I’m already late for something somewhere else.

Tldr: I use my local library, I do not go very often but I take my time when I do.

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Question (fanfiction.net):

If possible, please explain your typical process for finding fanfiction to read.

Answer:

Whenever  I get interested in a new show I’ll latch on to a concept or particular character interaction eg. Villain!hero, ensemble finds out secret, character A needs a hug, character A adopted by character B, character C & character D friendship & hurt/comfort. Sometimes (especially if it’s a lesser known thing/has a small fandom) I’ll be as vague as favorite character, timetravel, wingfic, or soulmate AU. Whatever it is that I’ve latched onto, I’ll enter it into the search bar on whatever browser I’m using, and open whatever links look most appealing in a new tab, giving preference to stories from any website except Wattpad* over any king of collection, and links to Ao3 preference over links to anything else.

From there I work my way through everything that was offered, and as I do so I eventually come across new things that capture my interest, and —in general terms— follow them.

On ff.net I’ll follow the link back to the page for whatever franchise this is, then open the filter menu, select "all ratings" and begin using the filters to look for whatever character or pair of characters (seeing as looking for idea is not really possible on ff.net) interests me most in either the family, hurt/comfort, or angst genre depending on which has the most stories, unless one of them has stories in excess of 3 or 4 hundred, in which case I’ll pick whichever has the least stories. I’ll then go through the offerings, opening any story that look is interesting in a new tab. If I make it through all of that and somehow haven’t found something better to do on Ao3, then when I’m done I’ll go back to the genre filter and pick whichever had the middling number of stories, then after that the one on the opposite end of the spectrum from most to least. If at any point I’m offered more than 1,000 stories I’ll add additional filters until the results drop below 1,000, because I am not dealing with slogging through that much ff.net at once. If there is that much written for whatever I’m looking for, then either there’s some on Ao3 and I can leave, or I’m actually looking for something more specific and was just over-estimating how vague I’d need to be to get results at all. This is very methodical probably because I do not like this site and am putting up with it only to find what I’m currently looking for, I never get new ideas prompted to me or am enticed to wander off the beaten track. I don’t use ff.net very often, though still more often then I go to the library.

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Question:

Are there any search features or filters you wish fanfiction.net had for readers and searchers?

Answer:

Fanfiction.net is not a functional website, it’s a particularly shitty ghost town that is actively crumbling to pieces around its few remaining inhabitants. I it’s a hassle to read on and I only do so because I’m a fan of rare pairs, and have to take anything I can get, and because I’m a fan of a particular kind of low-brow overpowered-hero fanfiction that tends to be more common there then on Ao3 or Tumblr.

I wish it didn’t have adds in the middle of a page, every time I hit next chapter, ect.

I wish it didn’t have pointless captchas every time I  start a new session.

I wish it had a visually pleasant format for presenting the stories for you to select from. Whether they’re search bar results, the results of a filter search, stories in a collection, or stories on an author’s page. It’s the same aggressively bad format and makes it hard to tell them apart from eachother and hard to pick which one(s) I want.

I wish stories could have longer summaries. They are so short that it forces everyone to sound same-y and rushed, and if an author want to include trigger warnings they have to be even shorter.

I wish there was a way to exclude/search/mark trigger warnings.

I wish you could select more than four characters in the filters, I wish authors could TAG more than four characters.

I wish there was a way to search/mark platonic relationships instead of only romantic.

I wish there was a way to search/mark a single character in multiple separate relationships eg. [A/B] and [A/C]

I wish there was a way to search for certain tropes or cliches without relying on pure hope that either the author used part of their limited summary space to mention it, or that someone else already made a collection for that trope and managed to find at least a few (they never have all) of the fics containing it.

I wish you could copy and paste the text without having to switch to the mobile version of the website. I don’t personally know why you can’t do this on desktop but I’ve heard other people say it’s because it’s actually generated as a pdf instead of genuine text.

I wish there was a way to open the whole story in one tab instead of being forced to go through it other by chapter.

I wish there was a way for authors to include author’s notes without it being part of the chapter.

I wish there was a way for authors to respond to comments without doing so in the author’s notes.

I wish the formatting wasn’t so aggressively bad as to be actively harming the quality of the story. I have found stories that were posted on both Ao3 and ff.net and read them on both websites, no differences in text, in punctuation, in anything at all, but on Ao3 it flowed much better, was much easier to read, and I’d have given a higher estimation of the author’s skill level if asked. All because it wasn’t actively being dragged down by ff.net’s formatting.

There are probably a fair few more things that I’m just not managing to think of at the moment, but considering there’s no way ff.net will ever be fixed and is in fact very likely to completely implode and die in the near future, I think this is good enough.

Sorry for the essays every time I’m allowed to write an answer but you’re asking loaded questions.

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Question (Ao3):

If possible, please explain your typical process for finding fanfiction to read.

Answer:

Whenever  I get interested in a new show I’ll latch on to a concept or particular character interaction eg. Villain!hero, ensemble finds out secret, character A needs a hug, character A adopted by character B, character C & character D friendship & hurt/comfort. Sometimes (especially if it’s a lesser known thing/has a small fandom) I’ll be as vague as favorite character, timetravel, wingfic, or soulmate AU. Whatever it is that I’ve latched onto, I’ll enter it into the search bar on whatever browser I’m using, and open whatever links look most appealing in a new tab, giving preference to stories from any website except Wattpad* over any king of collection, and links to Ao3 preference over links to anything else.

From there I work my way through everything that was offered, and as I do so I eventually come across new things that capture my interest, and —in general terms— follow them.

On Ao3 I’ll head back up to the top of a fic I really enjoyed and click on the tag for whatever little bit of it I enjoyed the most, and begin browsing again from there, refining with filters and following links and tags from new stories.

I will filter out reader inserts, original characters, y/n, or notps if I keep seeing too many of them in my results, but otherwise I’ll just scroll past them. Sometimes if I’ve been reading for a specific idea for a while I’ll sort by word count and begin going through it from least to most to see if there’s anything I’ve been missing because it’s not been updated recently. And sometimes if I feel like reading fanfiction but don’t have anything particular in mind I’ll just head to the Ao3 page for the main character (more reliable then a fandom tag, if a franchise exists in multiple forms of media they’ll usually each have their own tag the fanfiction will be scattered accordingly) of one of the bigger fandoms I’m in and start trawling the page for anything that looks interesting.

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Question:

Please use the box below to write any thoughts or opinions on this questionnaire or the subjects within it that you did not get the chance to share.

Answer:

On how I find fanfiction to read on websites that are not ff.net or Ao3, copy-pasted from the original all-encompassing answer I wrote before I realized you were looking for answers only about the website you’d just been talking about:

Wattpad (which I did not select when asked what websites I search for fanfiction on because I never willingly go looking there I just end up on it sometimes to my great frustration.):

Whatever idea it is that I’ve latched onto, I’ll enter it into the search bar on whatever browser I’m using, and open whatever links look most appealing in a new tab, giving preference to stories from any website except Wattpad* preference over tags or other collections, and links to Ao3 preference over links to anything else.

(*If links to Wattpad make it onto the first page of results, I’ll take whatever meager scrapings I was offer from other websites, then give up the search as a lost cause and pick a new idea as a I mourn the lack of the content I want to read. Only if I am already very attached to an idea and very desperate will I follow a link to wattpad. That website is the only one I have ever encountered worse then ff.net and it is an absolute unnavigable MESS.)

Tumblr:

If I’m on tumblr (mobile, I’ve never used tumblr on the computer but I don’t think it works the same) then once I find one thing to read that I like, I’ll begin tapping my way through the suggested posts on the bottom based on whatever looks the most interesting from what little I get to see of it. Sometimes I’ll end up on a specific blog or a specific tag, and I’ll just scroll through reading anything that looks even mildly cool regardless of whether it has anything to do with what I was originally searching for or not, until I click on a specific post for some reason (usually a “read more“), and then I’m back to navigating by suggested posts again. I tend to wander through fandoms and subfandoms a lot faster here, trading one interesting idea for the next as they’re presented to me. It’s a lot of fun and I sometimes discover completely new stuff! I’ll often end up following Authors I really like so that their stuff will end up in my feed, and this is really the only site on which I do that.

Just another couple comments on my general media consumption habits that I didn’t really see anywhere else to put:

Everything I stated about my fanfiction habits when getting into a new show applied if it’s a movie or book or game too, it’s just that 90% of the time it’s a show. My favorite movies are documentaries so I’m not sure what fanfiction for them would even look like, I prefer video essays and theories for games, and I just don’t read as many books as I used to. About half of the remaining 10% of the time is actually probably musicals.

It’s not unusual for me to have seen only three or so episodes of a show, but to have read insane amounts of fanfiction for it. I have difficulty sitting down to actually watch a show, and I usually only expend the effort for my absolute favorite series, so most of my interaction with most shows ends up being fanfiction. Getting into a new show because I came across some really good fanfiction for it is not uncommon either.