#create a front end project structure

[natsaffection]

Ohh an idea 💡 in my head and I know you are perfect to write this, basically reader is working at a company that is run by bad guys but doesn't know it, so natasha is sent on a mission to get close to her and gather Intel, so couple weeks pass and reader finds out in the most distraught way which causes her to end everything with Natasha but still have a good heart decides to give everything natasha needs to take down the company, (happy ending or sad ending either works) 💝

Showing everything. | N.R

Warnings: Just Angst?

Word count: 8,4k

A/n: I'm so grateful every time I finish a Ask that's been on my list for weeks. So thank you for your patience each time. 🫶🏼

You had always dreamed of finding a job where you could make a difference in the world, but you never thought it would come in the form of an elegant office in the heart of New York City. The building, a towering glass structure shimmering in the sunlight, housed one of the city's most prestigious companies. Kinetica Industries. They were known for their groundbreaking technology and humanitarian efforts, advancing medical equipment and energy supply that had revolutionized the industry. It was a dream job, almost impossible to turn down.

You stumbled upon the opportunity by chance. A late night scrolling through endless job listings led you to Kinetica's website. The company was looking for someone with your exact skills: data analysis and project management. The job description was vague but intriguing. Analyzing trends, managing large datasets, coordinating with various departments. It sounded challenging yet rewarding, the kind of opportunity you needed to prove yourself. The application process was quick, almost too quick. A few online assessments, a virtual interview with a charming man who headed your department, and within a week, you were offered the job. They said they were impressed by your resume, your background in bioinformatics, and your impeccable reputation. The salary was more than generous, with benefits that seemed almost too good to be true. But eager to start fresh and leave the stagnation of your previous job behind, you didn't question it further. You accepted immediately.

Your first day was a whirlwind of activity. The office itself was as impressive as the building's exterior. Elegant, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. The air buzzed with innovation, with teams of people tirelessly working on the next big thing. You were given a tour, introduced to your colleagues. Bright, motivated people who all seemed to share your enthusiasm for the work. Your role was exactly as described, but with a small twist. You were part of a special project they called "The Initiative." It involved collecting and analyzing data from various sources to create predictive models that could be used for everything from disease prevention to energy distribution. It sounded noble, and you were thrilled to be part of something that could change the world.

But as you settled into your new role, you couldn't help but notice the layers of secrecy surrounding certain aspects of your work. Some files were restricted, accessible only with special clearance. Occasionally, your requests for specific datasets were met with vague answers or outright refusal. But whenever doubts arose, you reminded yourself that every company had its secrets, especially one as influential as Kinetica.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office in the underground levels of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Natasha Fury sat across from you, the tension in the air almost palpable. "Romanoff," Fury began, his single eye piercing through the twilight, "we have a problem. Kinetica Industries." Natasha leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "The tech company? They've been on our radar for a while, haven't they?"

"They have." Fury confirmed. "But new intel suggests they're more than just a tech company. We believe they're a front for something far more dangerous. We suspect they're involved in illegal arms trading, possibly even human experimentation. But we need proof." Natasha nodded, understanding where this was going. "And that's where I come in."

"Exactly. We've identified someone on the inside, Y/N Y/L/N. She's new, only started about a week ago. As far as we can tell, she's clean. No criminal record, no ties to any organizations. She's the perfect target to infiltrate." Natasha leaned forward, studying the file Fury slid across the table. Your face stared back at her from the photo clipped to the top of the file, a bright smile, eyes full of hope. Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, but she pushed it aside. This was a mission, and she had a job to do.

"What's the plan?" she asked, flipping through the file. "You'll go undercover as someone with a similar background, a data analyst, someone they might hire if the current employee doesn't work out. Your task is to gain her trust, find out what Y/n knows. If she's innocent, she might unknowingly be sitting on crucial information. If not.."

"I'll find out," Natasha finished, her voice cold and determined. Fury nodded, satisfied. "We need to act fast. Every day we wait is another day Kinetica could move their operations. I'm counting on you, Romanoff." Natasha stood up, tucking the file under her arm. "I won't let you down."

As she left Fury's office, her thoughts were already spinning with possibilities, strategies, and the cool detachment that came with every undercover mission. She knew this wouldn't be easy. You were innocent, or at least you seemed to be. But Natasha had learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving. Her mission was clear: get close to you, gather the information, and expose Kinetica for what they really were. But as she prepared to step into your world, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would become more complicated than she anticipated.

Your first weeks at Kinetica Industries were a whirlwind of new faces, complex datasets, and an overwhelming amount of information. You were slowly getting used to the office routine when you heard about the new hire. Natalie Rushman, as she was introduced, joined the team on a bright Monday morning. You first heard about her during the daily briefing. Your department head mentioned that Natalie was hired to assist with data analysis, given the increasing workload from "The Initiative."

"I want you to show her the ropes." Your boss said, his tone implying it was not a request. "She has a similar background to you, and I think you two will work well together." You nodded, trying to hide the concern you felt about being responsible for training someone so soon after starting yourself. You hadn't fully mastered your own tasks yet, and now you were supposed to mentor someone else? But you forced a smile and agreed, hoping that Natalie would be as easygoing as she seemed in her brief introduction.

It wasn't until later in the morning that you finally met her. You were in the office kitchen, struggling with the intricate espresso machine that seemed designed to torment anyone who wasn't a seasoned barista. You had managed to spill coffee grounds everywhere when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned around and saw Natalie standing there, a slight smile on her lips. Her red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and she wore a white blouse and tailored black pants that made her look effortlessly professional. "Need some help?" Natalie asked, her voice warm and slightly amused. You laughed, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of your coffee disaster. "I think this machine was designed by someone who hates caffeine addicts."

Natalie stepped forward, gently nudging you aside. "Mind if I give it a try? I've had my fair share of battles with these things."

"Be my guest." you replied gratefully, stepping back. Natalie moved with practiced ease, quickly coaxing the machine into cooperation and brewing two perfect cups of espresso. She handed you one, which you accepted with a wide grin. "You're a lifesaver." you said, taking a sip. The coffee was perfectm. Rich, smooth, and exactly what you needed to get through the rest of the day. "I'm Y/n, by the way. I'm supposed to show you around today."

"Natalie." she replied, her smile deepening. "And I appreciate the help. The first days are always a bit overwhelming."

"Don't I know it.." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "I'm still trying to figure out where half the supplies are kept around here." Natalie laughed, a genuine but slightly guarded sound, as if she was still feeling out her new environment. "I'm sure we'll figure it out together. So, what exactly are we working on?" You began explaining the project to her, giving her an overview of "The Initiative" and what your roles would be. As you spoke, you noticed that Natalie was a good listener, nodding at the right moments and asking insightful questions. It was clear she knew what she was talking about, and you felt a little more at ease, knowing you weren't dealing with a complete novice.

"So," Natalie said as you walked back to the office with your coffees in hand, "what made you decide to work here?" You shrugged, trying to put your thoughts into words. "I guess I wanted to be part of something bigger, you know? Kinetica is doing some amazing things..or at least that's what they tell us. It's nice to think that the work we're doing here might actually make a difference."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully, as if considering her own reasons for being here. "I can understand that. It's nice to feel like what you're doing matters." You arrived at your desk, which was temporarily doubling as Natalie's workspace until hers was ready. You showed her how to log into the system, where to find the files she needed, and how to navigate the company's complex database. As you worked together, you noticed how quickly Natalie picked everything up. She seemed almost too proficient, as if she knew the system better than someone on their first day should. But you brushed the thought aside, some people were just quick learners, you thought.

The day passed smoothly, with the two of you working side by side and getting to know each other in small increments between tasks. Natalie was friendly but reserved, sharing just enough about herself to seem open without giving too much away. You found that you liked your new colleague, appreciating her calm demeanor and quick mind.

By the end of the day, you had made significant progress on your tasks, and you were starting to feel a sense of camaraderie with Natalie. As you prepared to leave, you turned to her with a smile. “Thanks for today, Natalie. You made my job a lot easier.” Natalie returned the smile, her green eyes sparkling in the fading daylight. “The feeling is mutual. I think we’re going to make a great team.” You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t expected. Maybe this new job wouldn’t be so overwhelming after all..

In the weeks that followed, the bond between you and Natalie deepened, evolving from a close friendship into something more intense, something charged. There was a tension between you that neither of you could ignore, a pull that grew stronger with every shared glance, every lingering touch. You had danced around your feelings for each other for a while, but the unspoken words were becoming harder to bear.

One evening, after another long day at the office, you found yourselves alone in the break room once again. The city lights cast a soft glow through the windows, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. You sat closer than usual, your shoulders touching as you picked at the remnants of a shared dinner. Your heart raced, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything other than the warmth of Natalie’s body next to yours.

“Natalie..” you began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something.” Natalie looked up from her food, her green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I..I’ve been trying to understand these feelings I have for you.. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone I work with, but I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I care about you, Natalie. More than just as a friend.” The words hung heavy in the air between you, filled with the weight of their honesty. You watched Natalie closely, searching her face for any sign of rejection or discomfort. But what you saw instead was a softening in her expression, a warmth that she hadn’t fully shown before.

“Y/n,” Natalie said softly, reaching out to take your hand, “I feel the same way. I’ve tried to keep my distance, to stay professional, but..I can’t help it. I love you.” Your heart leaped at her confession, your pulse quickening as the truth settled between you. “You.. you love me?”

Natalie nodded, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Yes, I do. And I’ve been so scared of what that means, but I can’t deny it any longer. I love you, Y/n.” The relief that washed over you was almost overwhelming, and without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Natalie’s in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

Natalie responded immediately, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she deepened the kiss, letting all her unspoken feelings flow into it. It was a moment of pure connection, where nothing else existed but the two of you and the love you shared. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to process what had just happened.

“I can’t believe this is real..” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “It is,” Natalie murmured, her eyes shining with affection. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the warmth of the moment began to fade, a sharp pang of guilt pierced Natasha’s heart. She had just confessed her love to you, but the truth was far more complicated than she could admit. She wasn’t just Natalie Rushman, a data analyst who had fallen for her colleague..she was Natasha Romanoff, a spy sent to gather information from the woman she had just professed her love to.

As you sat there, your hand still in hers, Natasha knew she was at a crossroads. She had sworn to get the information she needed, to complete the mission no matter what. But now, with the thought of betraying you, her stomach twisted with guilt. “Y/n,” Natasha began, her voice heavy with what she was about to say, “I want us to be completely honest with each other. Totally honest. I need to know..is there anything about our project, about Kinetica, that seems strange to you? Anything that doesn’t add up?”

You frowned slightly, confused by the sudden change in topic. “What do you mean?” Natasha hesitated, hating herself for what she had to do, but knowing she had no choice. “I’ve just..noticed a few things that don’t quite fit. Some files that are restricted, some data that doesn’t quite match up. I thought maybe you’d noticed it too.” Your brow furrowed as you thought back over the past few months. “Well, there have been a few things that seemed odd, but I just figured it was part of working at such a high-level company. Why do you ask?”

Natasha swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep up the pretense. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I want to make sure we’re not missing anything important.” You nodded slowly, still puzzled but trusting Natalie’s concern. “I’ll keep an eye out, and if I notice anything, I’ll let you know. But..can we not talk about work right now? I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

Natasha’s heart clenched at your words, the guilt threatening to overwhelm her. She had just used your moment of vulnerability to fish for information, and the realization made her feel sick. But she forced herself to push the guilt aside, to focus on the mission, even as it tore her apart inside. “Of course.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer and kissing you again, trying to lose herself in the warmth and love she felt for you.

Weeks passed, and the bond between you and Natalie grew even deeper. Your relationship had blossomed into something beautiful, a refuge in the midst of the high-pressure jobs at Kinetica Industries. You spent as much time together as possible..dinners, quiet nights with movies, and long walks through the city. For you, it felt like you had finally found someone who understood you, someone you could trust completely. But for Natasha, the lines between her mission and her feelings for you were becoming increasingly blurred.

The guilt Natasha felt was a constant companion, gnawing at her whenever she saw your trusting smile or felt the warmth of your hand in hers. Natasha knew she was deceiving you, but every time she considered telling you the truth, the weight of her duty as an agent held her back. She had a job to do, and despite her feelings, she couldn’t abandon it.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the office, you invited Natasha to your place. You were behind on some work and needed to finish a report for the next day, but you didn’t want to miss out on spending time with Natalie. Natasha agreed, glad for any excuse to spend more time with you.

Your apartment was cozy and inviting, filled with the little details Natasha had come to love. Bookshelves overflowing with novels, a small collection of plants by the window, and a few framed photos of you with your family. You settled together on the couch, you with your laptop and Natasha with a book she had picked from your shelf. “I’m sorry I have to work tonight..” you said, giving Natasha an apologetic smile. “I just need to finish this report, and then I’m all yours.”

“Don’t worry.” Natasha replied with a smile of her own. “I’m just happy to be here with you. Take your time.” As you focused on your work, Natasha found herself watching you more than reading the book in her hands. The way your brow furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, the absent-minded way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. All of it made Natasha’s heart ache with affection and guilt. But as much as she wanted to lose herself in these feelings, Natasha couldn’t forget why she was there. This was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Your work might hold the key to the information S.H.I.E.L.D. needed, and Natasha had to take advantage of it, no matter how much it tore her up inside.

After about an hour, you stood up and stretched, yawning. “I need to make some tea. Want anything?”

Natasha nodded her head, giving you a reassuring smile. “This would be grate.” As you disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was her chance. She had to act quickly. She set the book aside and moved quietly to your laptop. The screen was still on, showing the report you were working on, but Natasha’s focus was on the folders and files scattered across the desktop. She opened one labeled “Project Data” her hands trembling slightly as she navigated through the documents.

Natasha scanned the files, her sharp eyes searching for anything that stood out or seemed significant. Most of the documents were routine. Xatasets, project reports, emails. But then she found something: a file titled “Confidential Research Notes.”

Her heart raced as she opened it and found a series of notes detailing experiments and datasets that she hadn’t seen before. It was more detailed than anything you had shown her at work, and as Natasha read through it, she realized it contained the kind of information S.H.I.E.L.D. had been looking for..details about Kinetica’s involvement in potentially illegal research, experiments that crossed ethical boundaries.

She heard the clink of a teacup in the kitchen, and panic surged through her. Quickly, Natasha copied the file onto a USB stick she had hidden in her bag. She had just closed the file when you returned, carrying twocups of tea. “Here you go.” you said with a smile, handing one of the cups to Natasha. “Thanks.” Natasha replied, taking the cup with slightly trembling hands and praying that you hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

You settled back down on the couch, taking a sip of your tea and letting out a contented sigh. “The report is almost done. After that, we can watch the movie you mentioned.” Natasha forced a smile, trying to push down the gnawing guilt and the tight knot in her stomach. “That sounds great.”

As you returned to your work, Natasha tried to relax, but the weight of what she had just done loomed over her. She had gathered the information she needed, but at the cost of betraying your trust. For the rest of the evening, Natasha was distant, her mind racing with thoughts of what would happen next.

You noticed the change in her demeanor and reached out to touch her arm, concern evident in your eyes. “Hey, is everything okay?” Natasha looked into your eyes, feeling her heart ache. “Yeah, I’m just..tired, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

You smiled gently and squeezed her arm. “I get it. We’ve both been working so hard lately. Let’s just relax tonight, okay? No more work, just us.” Natasha nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Just us.” she repeated, her voice hollow. As you both snuggled up on the couch to watch the movie, Natasha tried to focus on the moment, to lose herself in the warmth of your presence. But no matter how hard she tried, the guilt and the knowledge of what she had done weighed heavily on her.

The following days were filled with an unbearable tension for Natasha. She knew she had to pass the information to S.H.I.E.L.D., but she dreaded what would happen when the truth came out. The time she spent with you, the smiles, the laughter, all felt tainted by the lie she was living. Finally, the day came when Natasha couldn’t put it off any longer. She knew she had to deliver the USB drive to S.H.I.E.L.D. The mission needed to be completed, but the thought of what that would mean for your relationship was almost too much to bear.

That evening, as you sat together at your kitchen table, your laptop open in front of you as you worked on another report, Natasha made her decision. She had to do this, even though it meant risking everything with you. But before she could leave, something happened that changed everything.

You called Natasha over, a confused look on your face. “Nat, can you look at something for me? This report doesn’t make sense.” Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “Sure, what’s going on?” she asked, walking over to the table.

You pointed at the screen, your brow furrowed in confusion. “I just got this email from my boss, and he attached this report. It’s about a security breach at Kinetica. They’re trying to figure out who accessed some confidential files..” Natasha’s blood ran cold, but she kept her voice steady. “A security breach? What files are they talking about?”

You scrolled through the report, your frown deepening. “It doesn’t say exactly, but it has something to do with our project. They’ve narrowed down the list of suspects, but I don’t recognize most of the names..except for one.”

You paused, your eyes widening as you focused on a name in the list: Natasha Romanoff.

“Natasha Romanoff?” you whispered, confusion and disbelief clear in your voice. You looked up at Natasha, searching her face for answers. “Wait, is that you? Is this some kind of mistake?”

Natasha felt the walls closing in on her. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. The truth was out, and there was no going back. “Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling, “I need you to listen to me.” You took a step back, fear and suspicion creeping into your eyes. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the fear in your eyes. “I’m still the same person, Y/n. I’m still me. But..I haven’t been honest with you.” Your hands shook as you hugged yourself, desperately trying to understand what was happening. “Who are you? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes as she took a hesitant step toward you, but you flinched and stepped back. “Please, let me explain..” Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. “My real name is Natasha Romanoff. I’m an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was sent here to gather information on Kinetica. But everything else..everything between us..it was real. My feelings for you, Y/n, are real.”

Your eyes darted around the room as if searching for something familiar, something to hold onto. But everything felt wrong. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a stranger. “You used me?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and fear. “You used me the whole time?”

“No!” Natasha said quickly, desperation creeping into her voice. “It started as a mission, yes, but I never meant to fall in love with you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, Y/n, you have to believe me.” You shook your head, backing away until you hit the wall. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t even know who you are. Natasha Romanoff, S.H.I.E.L.D.… it sounds like something out of a Movie..”

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched you crumble before her. She took a tentative step closer, her hands shaking. “I’m still the person you fell in love with, Y/n. I’m still the person who loves you more than anything. Please, let me explain everything.” You stared at Natasha, your heart breaking all over again. “You should have told me the truth from the beginning! But you didn’t. You lied to me, and now..now I don’t even know who you are..”

Natasha took another step forward, reaching out tentatively. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m begging you, please give me a chance to make it right.” You looked down at Natasha’s outstretched hand, but the fear and betrayal in your heart were too overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it. “I can’t..” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this. I need you to leave.”

Natasha’s heart broke at your words, but she knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, not now. “Y/n, I-”

“Just go!” you cried, your voice filled with agony. “Please, just go. I can’t look at you right now.” Natasha’s hands fell to her sides, her shoulders slumping as the weight of what she had done crashed down on her. She had lost you, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. But as much as it hurt, she knew she had to respect your wishes.

“I’m so sorry..” Natasha whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I love you, Y/n. I’ll always love you.” Without another word, Natasha turned and left your apartment, the door closing behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty space. You stood there, frozen, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as the truth of Natasha’s betrayal washed over you. The apartment that once felt like a safe haven now felt cold and empty, the warmth of Natasha’s presence gone, replaced by a suffocating sense of loss. You slid down the wall, pulling your knees to your chest as your body shook with sobs. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a lie, and you didn’t know if you could ever trust anyone again.

Hours passed, and eventually, your tears dried up, leaving you with a hollow feeling inside. But despite the pain, you couldn’t ignore the truth that Natasha had revealed. Kinetica was involved in something dangerous, something that needed to be stopped. And despite everything, you knew you couldn’t just walk away.

Slowly, you got to your feet, your resolve hardening. You would do what needed to be done, not for Natasha, but because it was the right thing to do. You walked over to your laptop and opened the files you had been working on. With a heavy heart, you gathered everything you knew about Kinetica’s activities, your hands shaking as you worked. The information you collected could help bring the company down, but it came at the cost of everything you believed in, everything you felt.

When you finished, you copied the files onto a USB stick and set it on the table. You stared at it for a long time, your thoughts filled with memories of the woman you thought you knew, the woman you loved. Finally, you took a deep breath and reached for your phone. You hesitated for a moment before dialing the number Natasha had given you, the one you were supposed to use only in an emergency.

Natasha answered on the first ring, her voice thick with emotion. “Y/n?”

“I have the information you need.” you said, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. “It’s on a USB stick. I’ll leave it at the café near my apartment tomorrow morning. You can pick it up there.”

“Y/n, please, can we talk-” Natasha began, but you cut her off.

“There’s nothing more to say.” you said quietly. "That's it, Natasha. After this, we're done. Don't contact me again."

A long silence followed on the other end of the line, and you could hear the pain in Natasha's voice when she finally spoke. "Thank you. I'm so sorry. For everything."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to keep your emotions under control. "Goodbye, Natasha."

The mission was over. Kinetica Industries had been exposed, its leaders arrested, and the illegal activities shut down. Natasha had completed her assignment, but the victory felt hollow. As the dust settled, she could only think about you, how she had lost you and how desperate she was to make things right.

Days turned into weeks, and the absence of you in Natasha's life became unbearable. The empty silence in her apartment echoed the emptiness in her heart. She replayed the last conversation she had with you over and over in her mind, haunted by the pain in your voice, the cold finality of your words. Natasha knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, but she couldn't live with the thought that you hated her, that the love you had shared was now just a memory tainted by lies. After much deliberation, Natasha decided she had to try one last time to explain herself and apologize in person. She knew it was a long shot..you had made it clear you didn't want to see her again but Natasha couldn't leave things the way they were. She had to try.

One evening, just as the sun was setting, Natasha made her way to your apartment. The familiar building loomed before her, but this time it felt different..colder, more intimidating. She hesitated at the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. What if you refused to listen? What if you called the police before she even had a chance to say anything? But she knew she couldn't turn back now. She took a deep breath, entered the building, and walked to your door. She stood there for a long moment, gathering her thoughts before she finally raised her hand and knocked softly.

There was a long pause, and Natasha's heart sank as she imagined you ignoring her, refusing to even open the door. But then she heard footsteps approaching, and the door opened a crack, revealing your wary eyes. Your expression shifted from surprise to anger as soon as you saw Natasha. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, and you narrowed your eyes. "What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice cold and hard.

"Y/n, please, I just want to talk." Natasha said quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know I don't deserve it, but I need to explain-" You cut her off, your voice sharp with anger. "Explain? There's nothing left to explain, Natasha. You lied to me, used me, and now you have the nerve to show up at my door?"

"Please.." Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. "Give me five minutes." Your eyes flashed with a mix of anger, pain, and something else that Natasha couldn't quite place. You hesitated, your hand still gripping the doorknob as if you were weighing whether to slam the door in her face. "If you don't leave right now." you said, your voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion, "I'll call the police."

Natasha felt her heart sink, but she didn't move. She knew you were serious, but she also knew that if she walked away now, she would never have another chance to make things right. "Do it." Natasha said quietly, "Call them if you want. But please, hear me out first. I need to show you how sorry I am. I know I can't undo what I've done, but I can't live with myself if I don't at least try to apologize."

You stared at Natasha, your hand shaking as you gripped the doorknob. The pain in your eyes was unmistakable, and it broke Natasha's heart to see how much she had hurt you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Finally, you let out a shaky breath and loosened your grip on the doorknob. "You have five minutes," you said, "But if you lie to me again, I swear I'll call the police."

Natasha nodded, relief washing over her even though she knew this was only a small victory. "Thank you." she whispered, stepping back as you opened the door just enough to let her in. You led Natasha into the living room, a space that had once felt warm and inviting but now felt cold and distant. You gestured for Natasha to sit on the sofa, but you remained standing, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for her to speak.

"Okay," Natasha began, her voice trembling, "I know I've hurt you in a way I can never fully apologize for. I deceived you and betrayed your trust. But I need you to know that every moment I spent with you, every touch, every word I said to you, was real. My feelings for you are real." Your eyes flashed with anger, and you shook your head. "How am I supposed to believe that? You're a trained spy. Lying is part of your job."

"I know.." Natasha said, her voice breaking slightly. "And that's why I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. But I couldn't leave things the way they were. I couldn't let you believe that everything between us was just part of the mission. It wasn't. You became the most important person in my life, and I was so scared of losing you."

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?" you asked, your voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "Why did you wait until I had to find out this way?" Natasha swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. "Because I was a coward. I didn't want to lose you, and I thought that if I could just finish the mission, maybe..just maybe we could have a life together afterward. But I was wrong. I should have been honest with you from the start."

You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as well. "You should have. But you didn't. And now I don't know if I can ever trust you again." A tear rolled down Natasha's cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. "I understand." she said softly. "I know I've broken your trust, and I have to live with that. I just wanted you to know that I love you, Y/n. I will always love you. And if you never want to see me again, I'll respect that. But please don't think that I didn't care about you, because I do."

You looked away, blinking back tears. "You should go, Natasha. There's nothing more to say." Natasha nodded, her heart breaking all over again. "I'm sorry." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For everything."

Without another word, Natasha turned and walked to the door, her steps heavy with the weight of the finality of the situation. She paused in the doorway, casting one last look at you, hoping to find something..anything that might suggest there was still a chance for you both. But your expression remained cold and distant, your eyes avoiding hers. With a heavy heart, Natasha opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft thud that echoed in the silence that followed. Natasha stood there for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in. She had tried, but it was over. You were right. There was nothing more to say.

Unknown to you, the case of Kinetica’s downfall was far from over. The company’s leaders were desperately trying to cover their tracks, attempting to salvage what they could. But amid the chaos, they discovered something alarming: You, one of their employees, had been the one to pass on the damning information that had led to their downfall. And now they wanted revenge.

You were alone in your apartment one evening, your thoughts drifting as you tried to focus on the book you were reading. The quiet was soothing, a respite from the whirlwind of emotions you had been grappling with. But that peace was abruptly shattered by a sudden, insistent knocking at your door. Frowning, you set the book aside and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw two men standing outside, men you didn’t recognize, but something about their presence immediately set off alarm bells in your head.

“Who is it?” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the unease rising within you. “Delivery.” one of the men said, but there was no package in sight, and his tone was too cold, too rehearsed.

Your instincts kicked in, and you stepped away from the door, your heart racing. These weren’t delivery men..they were here for something else, something far more sinister. Panic gripped you as you realized that Kinetica must have found out what you had done. Just as you were about to reach for your phone, the door burst open with a loud crash, the two men forcing their way in. You screamed and stumbled back, your thoughts racing with fear and desperation. But before they could reach you, another figure appeared in the doorway, moving with deadly precision. Natasha.

She had been keeping an eye on your apartment since your last conversation, knowing that Kinetica might try something. When she saw the men approaching your building, she knew immediately what their target was and she wasn’t going to let them harm you. “Get away from her.” Natasha snarled, her voice cold and dangerous.

The men turned to face Natasha, but they barely had time to react before she was on them. In a blur of motion, she disarmed the first man, sending his weapon skittering across the floor. The second man lunged at her, but she easily dodged and delivered a powerful kick to his stomach, sending him crashing into the wall. You watched in stunned silence as Natasha took down the men with brutal efficiency, her movements fluid and controlled. The fight was over in seconds, the two men lying unconscious on the floor as Natasha stood over them, breathing heavily.

For a moment, the apartment was eerily silent, the only sound the ragged breaths of the two women. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind struggling to process what had just happened. Natasha turned to you, her expression a mixture of concern and relief. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, laced with the fear she had tried to suppress.

You nodded slowly, your eyes wide as you stared at Natasha. “I..I think so..” you stammered, still trying to grasp everything. “What..what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave you unprotected.” Natasha said, stepping closer, her eyes full of guilt and love. “I knew Kinetica might come after you. I couldn’t let that happen.” Your gaze flickered to the unconscious men on the floor, then back to Natasha. “You..you saved me.”

Natasha nodded, her heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. “I will always protect you. No matter what’s happened between us, I’ll always be here for you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, the woman who had lied to you, who had betrayed you, but who had also just saved your life. The fear and anger you had been holding onto began to waver, replaced by a deep, conflicting emotion you couldn’t fully understand. “Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.” Natasha said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know you may never forgive me, but I had to make sure you were safe. You mean everything to me, Y/n.”

Your heart broke at the sincerity in Natasha’s voice. Despite everything, despite the lies and betrayal, Natasha’s love for you was real. And in that moment, you realized that your own feelings were just as complicated. You were angry, you were hurt, but you still loved her..more than you wanted to admit.

The two of you stood in silence, the weight of your emotions heavy in the air. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between the betrayal you felt and the undeniable connection that still existed between you. Finally, you took a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Natasha..” you said quietly. “But I can’t ignore what you just did for me. You saved my life. And..and I still care about you. I don’t know what that means, but I need time to figure it out.”

Natasha nodded, tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at you. “Take all the time you need.” she whispered. “I’ll be here, no matter what you decide.” You nodded hesitantly, the storm of emotions inside you beginning to calm. “Thank you.” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped back, giving you the space you needed. “I’ll take care of this.” she said, gesturing to the unconscious men on the floor. “And then I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” You looked at Natasha, your heart heavy with everything that had happened between you. “I don’t know what I want..” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I think..I think I need to be alone right now.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes reflecting the understanding she felt, even though the pain was clear. “I understand.” she said quietly. “Just know that if you ever need anything, anything at all, I’m here.”

You didn’t respond, but the look in your eyes said enough. You stood there, watching as Natasha efficiently secured the two men, ensuring they wouldn’t pose any further threat. She worked in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. When Natasha was finished, she stood by the door, hesitating for a moment as if searching for the right words, but then deciding against saying anything more. With one last, sorrowful glance in your direction, she turned and left your apartment, the door closing softly behind her.

You stood frozen in place, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened. The apartment, which had been filled with tension and violence just moments ago, now felt eerily quiet. Slowly, you sank onto the couch, your body trembling as the reality of the situation settled over you.

You were filled with so many conflicting emotions that it was hard to sort through them all. Anger, fear, relief, affection..they all swirled within you, and you didn’t know how to make sense of them. You had asked Natasha to leave because you weren’t sure of anything anymore. And though it felt like the right thing to do, now that she was gone, you felt a cold emptiness spreading through your chest. A part of you wanted to call her back, wanted her to stay so you could work through these chaotic feelings together. But another part of you knew that you needed time to be alone, to sort through everything that had happened between the two of you.

The night passed in a blur of thoughts and emotions, with sleep coming only in brief, restless intervals. When morning finally came, you felt just as exhausted as you had the night before. But with the new day came a certain clarity. You knew you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. Natasha had told you that she would always be there for you, and you believed her. But the question was whether you could let her back into your life, whether you could ever trust her again.

As the day dragged on, you tried to focus on mundane tasks, but thoughts of Natasha kept intruding. Finally, after hours of agonizing, you decided you needed more information to figure out a path forward. If there was any chance of peace or understanding between you, you needed to know the whole truth. The next day, you called Natasha. She answered immediately, and you could hear the mix of hope and concern in her voice. “Y/n?”

“I want to know everything.” you said, your voice firm even as your heart raced. “I can’t move on without understanding everything. No more secrets, no more lies. If there’s any chance for us to find peace, you need to show me everything.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Natasha spoke, her voice filled with relief and caution. “I understand. I’ll take you to S.H.I.E.L.D. You’ll have access to everything, my reports, the mission files. Whatever you need to know.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay. When can we go?”

“Right now.” Natasha said without hesitation. “I’ll come pick you up.”

True to her word, Natasha arrived at your apartment shortly after. The drive to the S.H.I.E.L.D. building was silent, the tension between you both palpable. Natasha stole worried glances at you from time to time, but you kept your gaze fixed out the window, lost in your thoughts. When you arrived at the unassuming building that housed S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operations, Natasha guided you through a series of security checks, her presence and clearance making the process smooth. You followed her, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity. This was a world you never imagined you would be a part of.

Finally, you arrived in a large conference room. Natasha gestured for you to take a seat at the table while she went to a console on the wall and entered a series of commands. The large screen in the room flickered to life, displaying a series of files and documents. “This is everything.” Natasha said quietly, turning to face you. “My mission files, the reports I sent, the details of Kinetica’s operations. You have full access.”

You stared at the screen, your heart racing. “Why are you doing this? Why are you showing me all of this?”

“Because I owe you the truth.” Natasha replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “And because I want you to know that I’m not hiding anything from you anymore. I know I broke your trust, but I want to do whatever it takes to rebuild it. Even if that means showing you everything.”

The next few hours were spent going through everything, the initial mission briefing, how Natasha was assigned to get close to you to gather information on Kinetica, and how she struggled with her growing feelings for you. She explained how she tried to keep you out of harm's way even as she fulfilled her mission, and how every moment you shared, despite the circumstances, had been genuine.

You listened intently, absorbing every word, every detail. There were moments when your anger flared up again, moments when you wanted to shout at Natasha for the betrayal, for the pain she had caused. But there were also moments of understanding, moments when you saw the inner conflict Natasha had gone through, torn between her duty and her growing love for you.

When Natasha finished, she looked at you, her heart pounding in her chest. “I know this doesn’t undo the lies, but I wanted you to see that I truly cared about you. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/n.” You remained silent for a long time, processing everything you had learned. You felt raw, exposed, but also strangely relieved. This was what you had needed. the full truth, with nothing held back.

Finally, you looked at Natasha, your expression unreadable. “You were honest with me today, Natasha, and I can feel that. For the first time, I feel like I’m really seeing you..with all your strengths and flaws, with all your mistakes.” Natasha nodded, her voice soft as she responded, “That’s all I wanted. To be honest with you, even if it costs me everything.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to organize your thoughts. “I don’t know where we go from here, Natasha. I don’t know if I can ever fully trust you again. But..I see that you’re trying. And that means something.” Natasha felt a small spark of hope ignite in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it grow too large. “Thank you, Y/n. That’s more than I deserve.”

You looked at Natasha, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and something that resembled hope. "Maybe it’s a start. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but at least now I know the truth. And that’s more than I had before.”

Natasha nodded, her heart heavy, but she was grateful. “Whatever happens, I’m here. If you need space, I’ll give you that. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. I won’t go away.” You managed a small, tired smile. “I guess we’ll just have to see where this takes us.”

You both left the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters together, the tension between you eased but the future still uncertain. As you stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, Natasha glanced at you, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a cautious spark of hope. You caught her glance and sighed. “It’s going to take time, Natasha. I don’t know if things can ever be the way they were, but.. we can find something new. Something honest.”

Natasha nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “That’s what I’d like.” As you walked side by side, the past still loomed over you, but for the first time, there was a path forward..a path that might lead to healing, to forgiveness, and maybe even to a future where you could rebuild what had been broken. The road ahead would be difficult, full of challenges and doubts, but you had taken the first step together. And for now, that was enough.

[astroa3h]

How Pluto Entering Aquarius Will Shape the Next Two Decades

Hold onto your hats, because the cosmos just handed us a front-row ticket to the most exhilarating and unsettling ride of the century. Pluto, the planet of transformation, power, and those deep, dark truths we’d rather shove under the rug, is strutting into Aquarius, the sign of innovation, rebellion, and humanity’s collective future. This isn’t just a cosmic shuffle. It’s a full-blown revolution that will flip the script on every corner of life as we know it. We’re talking society, technology, relationships, and yes, your personal universe. This not your average astrological transit.

Pluto doesn’t mess around. This is the planet of the phoenix, meaning if something isn’t working, it’s about to burn down to ashes. But don’t panic. Aquarius isn’t here to destroy for the sake of destruction. This air sign is the visionary genius, the tech whiz, the humanitarian. Together, they’re rewriting the rules of the game. Think of it like a power wash for your life and our world, a little messy at first, but ultimately freeing. For the next 19 years, expect seismic shifts in how we connect as a species. Aquarius rules technology and social systems, so the digital landscape will explode with changes. In terms of astrology predictions, AI won’t just be a cool tool; it’s going to reshape the job market, education, and even how we understand what it means to be human. If you’ve been clinging to outdated ways of working or communicating, Pluto is here to snap you out of it. The advice? Embrace the new. Learn, adapt, grow. That app you’re too stubborn to download could end up being the key to your next career move.

Power structures are about to collapse. Pluto in Aquarius doesn’t tolerate inequality, corruption, or anything that reeks of the old guard clinging to control. Governments, corporations, and even social hierarchies are in for a rude awakening. On a personal level, ask yourself where you’ve been giving your power away. Is it to a boss who doesn’t value you? A partner who keeps you small? A habit that numbs your potential? Pluto is here to tear those chains apart. But it’s on you to step into the freedom that follows. Of course, there’s a shadow side. Aquarius can be cold, detached, even ruthless in its pursuit of the greater good. Be wary of losing yourself in groupthink or tech dependency. Just because the world is speeding up doesn’t mean you have to lose touch with your own humanity. Make time for real conversations, face-to-face connections, and grounding rituals. This isn’t just a suggestion.

It’s a survival tool for navigating the chaos.

And let’s talk relationships. Traditional bonds might feel stifling under this influence. Aquarius loves independence and freedom, so if you’re in a situation that feels too confining, it’s time to shake things up. This doesn’t mean running for the hills every time someone asks for commitment. But it does mean being honest about what you need to thrive. Maybe that’s more space, or maybe it’s a complete reimagining of what love looks like for you. Just know this: Pluto doesn’t do surface-level. Any connection that’s shallow, fake, or rooted in outdated ideals is going to crumble. And that’s a good thing. This is also a time to dream big, no, bigger. Aquarius is the sign of invention and radical ideas. If you’ve been sitting on a creative project, a business idea, or a vision for your future, Pluto is giving you a cosmic green light. But there’s a catch. You can’t just dream it; you have to build it. Aquarius is innovative, yes, but it’s also fiercely logical. It’s about using your genius to create something real. So, roll up your sleeves. Get to work. You have a 19-year runway to make something extraordinary.

But remember, transformation isn’t a one-and-done event. Pluto moves slowly, digging deep into the cracks we don’t want to see. There will be moments when it feels too intense, too overwhelming. That’s when you lean into the Aquarian gift of vision. What kind of future do you want to build? What kind of person do you want to become? Keep your eyes on the horizon, even when the ground shakes beneath your feet. Pluto in Aquarius isn’t just a transit. It’s a call to action. It’s a demand to evolve. The world is changing, fast. And the question isn’t whether you’ll adapt. It’s whether you’ll rise to meet the opportunity. The universe believes you can. Now it’s your turn to believe it too.

Sending you all my love and blessings,

Ash (@AstroA3h via Instagram & TikTok)

✨💓

Ready for your own personal reading?

Visit astroash.net to book yours today!

[dcdreamblog]

I have a couple of questions for Uncle Sam,

Did you know General Gloryvand if you did how much of his comic book was accurate recounting of events?

Are you familiar with the super team The Force of July? They were created by a corrupt US politician and they're controversial enough I'm almost hesitant to call them superheroes. Some people think they were willing collaborators with their boss. Others think their ideology left them blind to actual reasons for his actions

US: Glory was the sad result of the US government trying to have a mystery man of their own they could keep under wraps. Me: We recently talked on my blog about something along similar lines with the Creature Commandos US: Something like that, yes. The rift between the US Government establishment and the Squadron was always larger than we let on to the public Me: Hoover specifically went to his grave frustrated on his total inability to dig up dirt on any of you. US: It was an understanding we had as comrades. We all trusted on another to the hilt, even if we never spoke as individuals. If you were Squadron, it made you blood, no questions asked. Me: No wonder they kept Glory under the radar US: Same reason they kept all their other "enhanced assets" under our radar. The moment we would have found out, we would have planted our feet and placed them under Squadron protection. As it was, Glory ended up getting batted around at the whims of the military command structure. Me: His missions were rather less...glorious than his comic books made them seem, from what I've read. US: It was a lot of skulking about on the western front, giving the hotfoot to nazi administration in France or the Low Countries. A lot of snapping necks in the dark. Me: Not exactly banner material US: And then after the war they all but brainwashed him and tossed him to the wolves. By the time he remembered who he was he was so jumbled in the head all he could do was make speeches. Me: He died of a heart attack not long after his reawakening US: Not many of us mystery men had the luck to be born immortal

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

US: I...recognize that the young men and women who called themselves the Force of July BELIEVED they were doing good. Me: Wow, I have seen cannons less loaded than that sentence. US: They operated under a spook organization called the American Security Agency. Me: One of those black cape organizations US: You could say it again, yes. The ASA was one of many secret projects meant to create superhuman agents under government control. Their motives were, as with any such group, ultimately jackbooted. Me: They wanted to launch a satellite into space that could spy on people's homes through their TV screens. They straight up called it Project Orwell US: Which was made by government agents ultimately above the Force of July's heads. That being said their unwillingness to question the motives of their handlers is a red flag by itself. Me: When they were directed against an outfit like the original Outsiders... US: That clinched it for all time in my mind Me: Oh yea? US: It's like I was saying before, an understanding in the community. If you're one of us, you get the benefit of the doubt. There's some layers of separation between me and them but I vouch for them on principle unless I know something untoward is going on. Me: Only some layers? US: Founded by Batman, Batman trained under Wildcat, I served with Wildcat. Me: Wow...Batman trained under Wildcat? US: *shrugs* Neither here nor there. Either way, the Force of July was a lot of very easily misled young people being sent out to do damage for an American establishment masquerading as an American ideal Me: Should have joined the military in that case US: No comment.

[foofenders]

My Take on Portraits of Your Father (SCP)

[THIS ANALYSIS IS FOR MY FINAL GRADE IN ENGLISH 12 CLASS]

Some disclaimers!

It's been a while since I've properly analyzed this story, so I might have forgotten some elements or get something wrong

POTENTIALLY WRONG INTERPRETATIONS!!

So feel free to respond or correct me about anything I am going to say!

Terrible grammar structure..

Might sound ACCIDENTALLY CONDESCENDING/NEGATIVE DUE TO (probably) WRONG CHOICE OF WORDING!!! english isn't my first language D:

Me rambling

Thanks for reading my project :3

Spoilers if you haven't read it.

------

Fiction's theme is about grief (I guess..?),

The story itself is about Draven Kondraki, who is the father's (Benjamin Kondraki's) son and how he copes with his father's suicide. We get multiple glimpses of memories from Draven's childhood that shaped him now and subtle hints of how his dad wasn't necessarily a good father but tries either way. Not only that, throughout the story readers can see how Draven and his fiancé, James Talloran grieves and how they manage to get through it (or tries to) at the end of the story.

A community challenge/universal experience that can be seen throughout this tale is resilience, because it deals with

Loss of a beloved one

Navigating grief in complex relationships

Moving forward despite the unexpected situation.

---- Some evidences that builds up -------

“Can you hand me that bottle over there?”

“Mm. I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Director,” James says in the low, articulate voice Draven has only heard him use at lab presentations and with his alcoholic father in the throes of one of his episodes.

This explicitly says that the father is already an alcoholic, which would mean he's destroying himself. Draven and James must take on the role of caretakers, emotionally managing the adult who was supposed to care for them, that shows resilience. (But Draven's already an adult and most adults take care of their parents, so it makes sense.)

----

“…I don’t know. That you’ll…not turn out like me, yeah? How about that.” His father lets out a forced chuckle. “Just…don’t be like me. Ever. Don’t do anything I did. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

“Dad.” Kondraki can’t believe how much his son has grown up — dark curly hair, just like his own. Clean shaven. Green eyes. Tactical gear sporting his name. “…Are you okay?”

He smiles.

“I’m fine, Draven.”

Key things to look at:

Kondraki's awareness of his failures and the pain he cause to himself.

A warning to avoid repeating destructive patterns, reflecting generational trauma.

Kondraki recognizes his own flaws and the negative impact he’s had on Draven’s life, which underscores his internal struggle and desire to protect his son from repeating his mistakes, even if he feels powerless to change himself.

------

A BUNCH OF GLIMPSES OF MEMORIES HERE!!

[CHAPTER 4]

He’s “the smartest man you’ve ever met” because of his books, his multilingual ability, and his impressive job. This reflects how children often elevate their parents to heroic status, meaning that they focus on small signs of greatness without fully understanding the complexities beneath the parent.

[CHAPTER 7]

Draven’s silent, agonizing questions — Why did you do it? Did it hurt? Would you have done it if I stayed?

That's grief. Witnessing his father’s suicide firsthand creates trauma, especially when having to see the dead body in front of you.

The hazy atmosphere reflects how Draven’s mind tries to process trauma. Draven feels a “soft kind of comfort” and warmth in this memory before the tragedy strikes. This moment shows a glimmer of hope, the memory that helps him find warmth and comfort even when the person in that memory doesn't exist anymore.

Waking up screaming from the nightmare shows that Draven hasn't forgotten and obviously is still deeply affected. But! He survives the shock, the pain, and the emotional devastation, showing resilience that takes it slowly, rather than quick recovery.

[CHAPTER 11]

Draven’s father is frantic, showing deep fear and love beneath his anger. His concern with "You could have died!” shows genuine vulnerability and the terror of potentially losing his son.

Despite the tension and harsh words, the moment ends with laughter and tenderness, a release of pent-up stress and a moment of connection. The laughter humanizes the father, showing his flawed but obvious attempts to be present and supportive.

Draven’s acceptance of his dad's presence “he’s there, just like he always is” shows emotional resilience because despite the imperfections, the bond remains a source of comfort.

Though this memory is set before Kondraki's death, there could be foreshadowing. His intense fear of losing Draven foreshadows the tragedy from the first chapter, hinting at the emotional weight both characters carry.

-------

[CHAPTER 12]

James and Draven found a Stephen King book; "Pet Cemetary" which indirectly tells both of them how Kondraki wants to peacefully go, by throwing his ashes into the sea.

"That’s all Draven needed to get an idea of what he wanted his dad’s final stunt to be. He grabs James’ keys from the table and a shovel from the garage and backs out of the driveway at 1am, feeling like Louis Creed."

--------

[FINAL CHAPTER]

You’ve been sad and you will be again, but right now James is saying that you should go to McDonalds before hitting the highway and you say hell yeah, we’re going to McDonalds, because right now the Foundation doesn’t matter and nothing can hold you back. When the dawn grey dissipates, you head onto the highway.

You’re painting a portrait of something old and something new, and everything inbetween.

Just like your father.

Despite the heavy weight of loss and ongoing grief, Draven wants to and chooses to embrace small moments of happiness such as driving around, goofing off, admiring a turtle, laughing with his fiancé. This is resilience as the courage to live fully even when sadness and grief is still there.

Wearing his father’s worn Columbia jacket symbolizes carrying forward his father’s memory not as a burden but as part of himself. It reflects how Draven is integrating past pain with his present self, showing strength in holding onto what matters while moving forward.

Resilience is shown in that scene but it’s subtle and quiet rather than dramatic.

It’s about how Draven and James choose to live and find joy despite the grief and trauma they've endured. The resilience is in the small, everyday acts: driving playfully, noticing a turtle, sharing laughter, and wearing the father's jacket as a symbol of carrying on. These moments reflect an ongoing process of healing and moving forward, which is the essence of resilience.

Yeah that's it thanks for reading.

[tenderwatches]

summary: Jayce thinks back to Viktor's very bad no good horrible year we find out what Jayce is up to with the Hexcore

“We suffer from an incurable malady. Hope.” - Mahmoud Darwish

Jayce stares at the blueprints for the Hexcore laid out in front of him. It’s been almost two years of painstaking work, examining and extrapolating from Viktor’s notes. Excitement and a fragile sense of hope buzz in his veins; he may now, at last, be close to something like a full recovery.

Tonight will be his first real attempt at reconstruction.

He settles himself at his workbench with a genuine hex gemstone gripped tightly in his hand before releasing a long exhale. The current of magic alive beneath its smooth surface seems to lift him from somewhere within, making him feel weightless.

It’s been difficult to find time for this secret project between solving the problem of the synthetic crystals and nurturing his delicate peace with Viktor. The only time he has to work is when Viktor, Sky, and Thomas have all left, leaving him to his solitude and secrecy. As much as he envies the others’ freedom to leave, he needs these stolen moments.

Hardly for the first time, he wishes he could confer with Viktor on his work directly—but he knows better. If the recent months of recovery in their relationship have taught him anything, it’s that he cannot lean on Viktor to correct his mistakes.

Viktor was right to accuse him of moving placidly through a world that bent itself to make things easy and tolerable for him. Though he hadn’t created this paradigm, he’s never challenged it—never even questioned it. Now, he’s keenly aware that recovering this work is the key to righting his wrong. Nothing will make up for what his mistakes have cost Viktor, but he needs this work to be ready to fulfill the wondrous future of Viktor’s dreams.

Buoyed by his convictions, he crosschecks Viktor’s notes, line by line, against his draftsmanship. Over the years, he’s become familiar with these contents, but there are complexities to Viktor’s work that he wants to ensure he does justice to. The dozens of tiny pyramid structures he’s created to enclose the gemstone at the Hexcore’s heart have paid off; all laid out in front of him, they align exactly with every ruthlessly documented detail from Viktor’s original concept. And yet, something feels... off.

Jayce has added his own particular touch to the construction; late hours in the forge allowed him to recover not just the form and function of Viktor’s previous designs but also add an elegance he feels they deserve. He’s embossed the runes with a tender hand—there is love in what he’s remade here. Perhaps Viktor will see it when Jayce finally presents him with the reconstructed prototype. Maybe he’ll read it for what it is—a testament to his devotion.

Jayce has always turned to the scientific process for this, their shared native tongue, as simply arguing with Viktor will never win over his convictions. That this understanding was what drove him to seek aid from the ethics committee in the first place is a cruel irony.

He’s often gotten the impression that, of the two of them, people considered him the young, recklessly ambitious one. He was, after all, the one who’d ended up publicly tried for his lab exploding. There is also no shortage of danger in what he’s attempting. Magic has always had an inherent risk to it. But the other man’s public persona of a quiet, composed scholar, an austere engineer in lockstep with the scientific process, is a deliberate misrepresentation.

Viktor is a wildfire of ideas. Jayce marvels at his ability to see a multitude of shapes in whatever might come next. It’s always been accompanied by a frisson of risk, a moment of wonderful disconnect from the rigidity of the world, from the fear of what might be lost in pursuit of what could be.

The emptiness where his partner should be is more obvious than ever; he misses the ability to ask, ‘Are you sure about this?’ and watch Viktor’s eyes catch his, so beautiful with the vitality of what they can achieve. ‘Of course not,’ his partner would mutter, and then, they’d leap into discovery.

That kind of wild abandon needs grounding, and Jayce has been their anchor in the storm. But now, he can’t afford to watch this work implode around him, can’t afford to lose it again. He has to take this leap alone.

The bitter truth is that perhaps no one but Jayce can truly understand the price of what he’s done. Viktor has lost time—something he has so precious little of—time to realise his creation, to change the world with his dream of a less painful tomorrow, time to do what they’ve always wished to do.

This is a chance to recover what was stolen from Viktor in the years down below.

He’s begun to consider this work as a bridge back to better days for them. If he can accomplish this, perhaps he can approach Viktor with more than his sincere but insufficient apologies.

A resurrection is tender work, but the deliverance of the research he’d marked for death is his only path to reviving the trust that lies dormant between them.

Desperation led him astray before, but this time feels different—has to be different.

He’d been so worn down before, so afraid of the ways he could feel Viktor slipping through his fingers. He had been oblivious to the unkind realities of Viktor’s movements in the world. Upon encountering the man’s ailments, Jayce had chosen familiar remedies—but his ignorance had poisoned them. Instead of healing, he’d delivered Viktor to the very wolves he’d spent his life outrunning.

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

Autumn, 990 AN - three years ago

The spectre of death had crept so subtly into Jayce and Viktor’s partnership that they worked together for seven years before Jayce truly had to face what was lurking alongside them.

Viktor’s story had an odd romance to it that made his success feel inevitable. What Jayce failed to consider was that life was more often, and more reliably, unfair. Stories of triumph were legendary not because of what they achieved but because they were so few and far between. Yet, he had always assumed his partner’s story would be among them.

The year before Viktor’s departure from the Academy, Jayce had noticed the first signs of decline without understanding what they meant. He found Viktor in the lab one morning, looking young and stricken—afraid.

“Viktor?”

“Jayce—” Viktor’s voice was soft, eyelids fluttering over a wide and haunted expression. It doused Jayce with dread.

“V—what’s wrong?” There was nothing he could see, no malaise or injury—nothing to explain this alarming shift in behaviour.

“I can’t get up.” The words emerged hollow with disbelief.

“What do you mean, you can’t get up?” Hadn’t he seen Viktor moving about the lab a day ago without any unusual sign of discomfort? Jayce went down to one knee, placing his hand on Viktor’s shoulder as cautiously as he’d handle a skittish cat. “V, talk to me.” He peered up at Viktor’s pale face, smoothing a palm up the muscle arching towards Viktor’s neck, and felt a barely perceptible tremor there.

Viktor surfaced from his thoughts, his jaw clenched tight, a man in agony. Jayce’s fingers tightened slightly at the back of Viktor’s neck, as if his grip alone could anchor him, keep him from the dark place he kept drifting to.

“I have tried, Jayce,” he admitted. “I... tried to stand, and—I fell. I was on the floor for twenty minutes.” Disgust, frustration, and despair flashed in quick succession across his features. He pulled away from Jayce’s touch, as if he couldn’t stand the display of kindness. In that moment, Jayce recognised both Viktor’s devastation and fury. Usually, Viktor’s anger was a cold thing—chin up, walls high, tone precise. But there was something wild in it now, inconsolable rage that bled from old wounds. “I had to drag myself back to this chair like a dog.” He spat the words out, hands forming tight fists as if he could tear reality apart.

Helpless sorrow rent Jayce open as he began to understand: this was one of Viktor’s many constant battles to keep his limitations from becoming barricades to his independence. Jayce clasped Viktor’s clenched fingers, trying again to catch those unfocused eyes with his own gaze. “Let me help you. We’ll figure it out.” This man had saved his dream—his life. Viktor was so gently determined to do good but always tried to fight things alone. He was desperate for Viktor to let him in. “It’ll be alright.”

He’d hoped for softening, for trust, but Viktor slipped his hands from Jayce’s grasp. Instead of leaning on him, Viktor pressed cool fingertips to the hinge of Jayce’s jaw, tilting his face up like he was a devotee. The touch felt intimate.

Jayce could count the eyelashes framing those luminous amber eyes from where he knelt, but even in this closeness, he still felt miles away from his partner. Maybe because Viktor was never this familiar. Maybe because he could see that Viktor had shuttered his grief away. What things did a person experience to teach them that accepting help was a weakness? He wished he could explain how he had never met anyone stronger than Viktor—how it had nothing to do with him hiding his pain—but words failed him.

“Of course... yes.” Viktor’s hand fell away. “You are correct, Jayce.”

The loss of Viktor’s touch left him bereft. He had missed something in this moment. He considered Viktor’s words, how they were meant to placate him, comfort him; the realisation made him feel childish and selfish. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling he’d failed Viktor somehow.

His mind flashed over ideas, concepts he’d heard about but never looked into. Braces to assist with support, improvements to his mobility aids, therapy to help with muscle strength. There were paths he was certain they could explore together. Here, in this space, the place they built together, maybe he would be allowed the chance.

An idea calcified in him then, heavy as a stone but tight and painful like scar tissue: he had to do more to help his friend. They were partners, and Jayce would do everything he could to show Viktor that he was not alone.

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

He gingerly rests the hex gemstone in the delicate metal base that supports it during his construction efforts. With surgical precision, he lifts the first runic pyramid towards it. The magical field hisses like escaping steam, throwing off bright blue sparks that force him to tug his safety goggles into place. The pyramid slips from his gloved fingers as if drawn by an unseen force, snapping into orbit around the gemstone. The core jolts, threatening to lift from its base before settling once more. Now the pyramid rotates around it like a solitary star, bobbing back and forth in an aimless dance. He watches its lonely journey, fascinated by the purposeless pattern.

Viktor’s notes specify the mesh can’t be forged separately from the core. The magical lift is crucial for suspending the pyramids and spacers in the correct formation. It makes this work sensitive; he’ll have to be careful with placing the pyramids, aligning them while they move on the magic drift they’re caught in.

He takes another moment to appreciate the way the magic of the gemstone has caused the engraved runes of the pyramid to shimmer with blue light. The energy pulses like a tiny heartbeat within it. But the work will be tedious, and he can’t afford to delay too long if he hopes to complete it before dawn.

A soldering iron in hand, he painstakingly nudges each pyramid into position before fastening it to its fellows with a delicate weld. He’s gotten almost five sets in place when he realises something has been weighing on him with each cluster. He traces the engraved surface of the pyramid faces, trying to coax out the thought at the back of his mind.

Domination channels raw power.

Sorcery focuses it.

Resolve strengthens the vessel.

Precision directs the flow.

Four runes, perfectly balanced—or, they should be.

He’s been so concerned with salvaging Viktor’s work that he hasn’t allowed himself to consider it through the lens of his own years of working with Hextech. His pulse hums with excitement as he realises there is an opportunity here—not just to return Viktor’s work to him, but to do what he always should have been doing—collaborating.

As if the energy itself responds to his growing excitement, the half-formed cluster of pyramids spins before him, expanding. He sets aside the soldering iron, allowing it to cool a safe distance away before reaching to the side of his workstation to procure one of his own journals. This one holds a collection of his own personal studies on runes and their functions. His thoughts run ahead of his fingers as they flip through old pages of documentation. He’s trying to recall something that feels just below the surface of his consciousness.

His fingers drum against the workbench as he rifles past documentation detailing the runes Viktor has already been working with. All his studies of Hextech have taught him that magic responds to more than just rigid structure—arcane energy isn’t just about control and direction.

The thought stops him cold before he can even unearth the information he’s seeking. As his building epiphany snaps into focus, he turns back to Viktor’s original designs, seeing them with new eyes. The mathematical precision, the careful balance; it’s all there, beautiful in its flawless execution. But perhaps that’s exactly why it had never quite worked.

His pulse quickens as he spots it—the missing piece is so perfectly Viktor that he laughs. They’ve always balanced each other this way: Viktor’s meticulous planning and Jayce’s creative leaps.

Now, he sees what the design needs—not just structure, but inspiration.

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

Winter, 991 AN - two years ago

The year Viktor received his spinal implant had been one of the worst of the nearly eight years of their partnership.

Sudden failings of health breaking open to spells of wellness taught Jayce undeniable lessons about the uncertainty of the future. He had learnt how cruel that constant question could be to someone ravaged by the passage of time. Viktor’s spine had begun bowing in a way that caused him too much pain to even sit upright for long.

It was only at Jayce’s incessant pestering that he finally broke and agreed to let a specialist address the problem. In a tumult of good days and bad, of arguments and needling, this concession was a success. They were able to schedule Viktor for a groundbreaking surgery to take place in a few short months. It was just enough time for Viktor’s quality of life to spiral away.

Viktor was sullen most days and outright waspish on others. Though Jayce could see Viktor tried to temper himself, he was—frankly, unpleasant to be around. Where he normally found patience and curiosity in his friend, there was often hostility. He skipped steps in processes, even lost track of the thread of his own research, and left prototypes useless smoking hulls over simple oversights.

Jayce understood, especially when he saw Viktor’s own confusion at his volatile behaviour. Each snap was followed by muttered apologies and fingers pressed to temples. In these moments, Viktor would accept Jayce’s palm against his spine, letting him work circles into the knots of pain that jumped beneath his touch. When the day of the procedure came, it was as if they both could breathe a bit easier.

If, however, Jayce had thought that would be the end of it—he was dead wrong.

Recovery had been even more of an agony for Viktor, who flouted his post-operation instructions in favour of returning to the lab. Keeping him in place was impossible, and he bore his pain without complaint. Instead, it sucked away his colour, his appetite, and his tolerance of Jayce’s penchant for physical touch. Any of Jayce’s attempts to support him were met as if he were being hand-fed grapes, not offered help in holding a series of delicate electrical tools that could take out his hand along with a chunk of the room if dropped.

Six weeks after the operation, Jayce found Viktor brandishing a red-hot soldering iron in the construction of the most recent prototype of his Hexcore project. There was a sheen of sweat on his pallid skin, and it didn’t seem he’d even had the foresight to wear any protective gear. Viktor was not the poster child for lab safety, but this was the breaking point for Jayce, which Viktor had not taken to kindly.

“I’m not a child in need of lessons on lab safety,” Viktor hissed with a vitriol Jayce didn’t recognise. “I’ll remind you, you pushed me into the surgery—humour me with the decency to not act as if I’m incapable of caring for myself.” His voice was low, words tight enough to almost sound slurred.

Viktor’s venom surfaced quickly, drawing fury from Jayce at the injustice of his partner’s temper. He barely managed to bite back an angry retort and instead, stormed from the lab.

Dark, heavy clouds echoed his mood on his way home.

He slammed into his place like the oncoming storm made flesh—perhaps he should have gone to the forge to work his anger out—but the thought of even being that close to their lab with Viktor in such a vicious mood infuriated his already frayed nerves. He let himself linger in the hurt of his partner’s words, even when a more rational voice told him Viktor would likely apologise in the morning.

This wasn’t Viktor’s character; this was his condition. But the words still echoed as evening fell. Jayce was exhausted—agonised by his partner’s health, worn down by the council, his complicated relationship with Mel Medarda, and the public’s hunger for Hextech progress. All whilst they had to keep their prototypes hidden—which, he realised, likely explained Viktor’s mood. In the face of it all, sleep beckoned like a blessing until he succumbed to it like a warm embrace.

Jayce jolted awake to repeated banging and his heart beating frantically in his throat. Trying to get his bearings as his sleepy mind struggled to catch up, he noted the rain outside had begun coming down in heavy sheets at some point in the night, the sound of it beating away almost everything else. It was the kind of night you’d have to be out of your mind to go out in—and yet, unmistakably, someone was pounding on his door.

He rose in a panic, still only half-dressed in the thin pants he wore to bed. Had there been some terrible accident at the lab? Or with his mother? Or Cait? Or Mel? A thousand possibilities dashed through his mind, only to sputter out when he threw open the door to find not enforcers bearing disaster—but instead—Viktor.

His partner was drenched. He carried no umbrella and slumped heavily on his crutch in a drowsy way, as if he had been out drinking. In the light of the chem-lamps, he was frighteningly sallow, save for a scarlet flush high across his cheeks. His eyes were huge and dilated.

“Viktor?”

Nothing.

“I—what—are you doing here?” He finally shook off his stunned inaction and ushered Viktor through the door. “Is everything okay? Gods, you’re soaked. Did you walk here?” He couldn’t help the interrogation, even as he rushed to fetch a blanket to drape around Viktor’s shoulders.

His friend allowed him this, still blinking at him like he might be a hallucination. “How else would I get here, Jayce?” he asked, his tone almost light. “The trams stopped running hours ago...”

His answer explained so little that Jayce felt his temper flare up again. “Viktor,” he demanded, setting his hands on his partner’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your help.”

“Of course,” Jayce answered without registering how the admission sent him reeling. “Always—just—what’s happening?”

Instead of responding, Viktor turned his head, eyes sluggish and glassy. Jayce couldn’t help the rising panic in his chest as Viktor stood there, dripping wet and seeming confused. Under Jayce’s palms, he was burning hot as a furnace, warm even through the layer of that blanket and the chilly damp of his clothes. His body wasn’t shaking so much as convulsing with cold.

“I keep losing track of everything,” he murmured finally, sounding ragged. “And—everything... hurts.” He still wasn’t looking at Jayce, instead staring off into the middle distance. “I... I can’t—“ In a second, his head snapped back towards Jayce with alarming speed, though his gaze still lacked focus. “You—“ The blanket dropped from his shoulders as he slammed a hand to Jayce’s chest, as if for emphasis. “You have to—have to promise to continue the work for me.” Viktor swallowed thickly. “U-until I can...” He looked distinctly queasy, tucking into himself with the effort of fighting back his nausea.

He’s sick, Jayce realised all at once—Viktor was feverish to the point of delirium.

“V, I need you to calm down for me first,” he soothed, retrieving the blanket from the floor and pulling it back around the other man’s thin frame. “We’ll get you dry and settled, and then we can talk about all that.”

“No! No, you don’t get it. You just keep wasting time.” Viktor’s accusation burnt almost as hot as the palm that had been pressed against Jayce’s bare skin. “With the council—with everything... You have to do this for me.”

“Of course, V, but this first.” Without allowing the time for further feverish rambling, he scooped under Viktor’s legs and hauled him into his arms. His friend gave a fragile sound of surprise, his crutch clattering against the wall as it fell to the floorboards.

Viktor seemed too disoriented to struggle, the damp head of auburn curls pressing into Jayce’s shoulder. “No,” he protested weakly, and Jayce hushed him, trying not to think how much the surgery along his spine was causing him agony as they moved towards Jayce’s bedroom. He settled Viktor into the rumpled mess of his bed, trying for a comforting hand cupped at the base of his neck when he made a soft sound of pain despite Jayce’s efforts to be gentle.

He was halfway through peeling Viktor out of his wet clothes and the tight clasp of his brace when he spied the state of his still-healing back. Viktor’s skin was bright red, inflamed—even in the dim half-light, Jayce could tell it was healing wrong, shot through with the telltale signs of infection.

“Shit.” The fever, the nausea even, it all began to make sense. “We’re going to the hospital.”

Those weeks of recovery became a blur of sterile halls and mounting fear. For the first few days, Viktor drifted in and out of consciousness, his normally sharp mind dulled by fever and medication. Viktor’s fever would break, only to spike dangerously high again. He’d manage to keep down food one day, then be unable to the next. Jayce found himself splitting his time between Council meetings he could barely focus on and Viktor’s bedside, where he’d spread papers across the thin blankets, working on council proposals while Viktor slept.

The doctors spoke in careful, measured tones about ‘complications’ and ‘setbacks’. Jayce noticed how they directed their explanations to him rather than Viktor, as if his partner’s brilliant mind had somehow diminished with his physical state. Viktor, when lucid, would catch Jayce’s eye with a familiar irritation at being spoken about rather than to.

“You don’t have to stay,” Viktor told him one evening, voice rough from disuse. His skin was waxy in the cold hospital lighting, dark circles stark under his eyes.

“I know.” Jayce didn’t look up from his papers, knowing if he did, Viktor would see right through him, and he didn’t think he could handle being chastised for his care.

There was a long pause. “At least bring me our notes next time. I can review them—don’t argue, Jayce.” He hadn’t even opened his mouth, but had been about to protest. “I feel like I’m losing my mind in here, and I am apparently too ‘unstable’ to be discharged.” Viktor sounded ever himself, calm despite the circumstances that had Jayce spinning out.

Through it all, none of his other troubles had gone away. Endless dread made everything twice as overbearing, and every time they parted, he was plagued by the terrifying thought: maybe this is it. The last time he might see him alive. It was both the beginning and end of so much—too much.

One thought centred him, humming in his mind. He needs me—needs me to fix this.

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

His new breakthrough delays the prototype, but it’s not as devastating as he had thought it would be. The core remains on its pin, its half-constructed cluster of pyramids hovering like a misshapen moon caught in the magic’s gravity.

He doesn’t even entertain the thought of deconstruction—it would take too long. The momentum of discovery drives him forward. Excitement ignites him like the fires of his forge, an old steam engine thundering back to life. How long has it been since he felt this spark of unprecedented possibility, this chance to serve his and Viktor’s shared dream? The familiar thrill remakes him. Once again, he’s that young scientist chasing endless horizons. He throws himself into redesigning the Hexcore’s structure, knowing Viktor’s spherical construct will need to shift to accommodate the missing rune—if his theory holds.

Viktor’s matrix would have been able to evolve and adapt, but it lacked drive. Ever the engineer, Viktor had overlooked the possibility of bending his initial goals. It needed creativity, pliancy—soul. At most, without adjustment, his original design would have likely been highly capable of harnessing and releasing unprecedented amounts of arcane energy. A powerful tool with plenty of applications, certainly, but with its added nature as an unstable and shifting combination of runes, it was unacceptably dangerous. Adding the inspiration rune brings everything back into balance, allowing the matrix to almost choose, in a way, when it would change, rather than merely reacting.

The inspiration rune will stabilise the matrix, bringing life to a truly adaptable system capable of self-adjustment without internal conflict. It’s a huge leap forward in the complexity of the tech they could develop—everything Viktor had promised it would be if Jayce’s adjustments bear fruit.

The possibilities of this work give him the patience he needs to focus on his redesign. After working through a few different possibilities, he settles on a dodecahedron. It seems the most capable of handling the variables without expanding into infinity. He lifts the plans up, raking his eyes over them with fervent reverence. The original concept was almost too extraordinary to improve upon, but he’s truly done it—seamlessly woven the new rune into the design. It’s as though it has always belonged there—and maybe it has.

Exhaustion threatens to wash over him, but underneath burns a fierce satisfaction. For the first time in years, he recognises himself in this moment: the surge of discovery, of certainty enveloping him. He feels at last at home in his body, assured in his path forward.

Still smiling, he turns the plans towards the abandoned prototype. “What do you think? Better chance?” The Hexcore continues its silent vigil on its metal pin, but its pyramids shimmer with blue energy, their gentle bobbing almost like a wave—as if sharing in tonight’s victory.

Viktor would admonish him for personifying one of their inventions and probably comment on how the hour is making him delusional. As if on cue, he yawns so hard his jaw cracks. He’s a ragged mess; if he expects to be worth anything in the lab tomorrow, he’ll need to turn in for at least a few hours of sleep before returning.

Blood still thrumming with possibilities, he begins the process of cleaning up. Removing the pyramids from the hex gemstone core and tucking away all his work and new designs, he feels light as he turns the key in the lock. His eyes drift over the desks to ensure he’s managed to hide all evidence of this.

Soon, he realises, soon he’ll have something he can share.

This time it has to be different. He won’t fail Viktor again.

𓊈 first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter on AO3 𓊉

AN: we get some answersssssss woooo - this is chapter 14, 'An Incurable Malady' from our fic Lies We Tell Ourselves! sorry this one's late we're actually updating AO3 today with chapter 28 ahhh i've been so busy 😭 but good busy i guess!

[freesia-writes]

I'm lobbing this right back to your ask box, because the questions were great, and I'd love to know your answers!

Ok. So. If someone wanted to read your works…

Which do you think is your best piece and why? You can split the answer into short and long fics if you want. 😜

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

And which one do you think everyone should read? I know, choosing one is torture. 😉😘

I should be going to bed right now but my brain is a steam engine and this train of thought is CHUGGIN. 😂 So. Since you had such amazing answers for your own...

Which do you think is your best piece and why?

Honestly... Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt, the Hunter x OC longfic that I worked on for 9+ months, because it's intricately cohesive, intentionally structured from start to finish, and amazingly enriched with fanart, mood boards, and other stuff that makes it completely immersive. I'm really proud of it. 🥹 It's got plot twists but doesn't leave the reader feeling stupid (*coughTBB*), has fully developed and very unique characters that are also relatable (I hope), and I think (and have been told, lol) that the characterization of the Batch is dead-on and their family dynamics are absolutely delightful. It feels weird to speak freely about its strengths, but we should be able to do that without it being braggy. So, it's amazing in a lot of areas and definitely needs work in others (like me, ha).

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

*dons monocle to consult @spicy-clones master list*

Shoot, I guess I have to say Sharp Edges, the Crosshair x Reader longfic I wrote with @lightwise. There are quite a few smut scenes, but what makes it fantastic is that it starts off hot and shallow, then evolves and deepens in areas beyond just the physical to lead to a really satisfying climax (hahaha). And it's a really good story -- after all, when you get two author brains on a project, it's that much better! Tons of character development, funny dialogue, and an excellent fix-it ending. 😉

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

I guess I'm gonna be really redundant here... The Hunter one, because readers experience the story through his eyes (where other works are from a reader, OC, or omniscient POV). So they were hopefully just as surprised as he was at sudden plot twists, but I also tried to add just enough detail and subtle lil winks to the reader to "let them in" on some of the secrets so that they could feel shrewd and insightful without just having it all out there plainly so Hunter's the only one and the rest of us are rolling our eyes and smacking our foreheads at him the whole time. 😜 I mean, there was some of that too. 😂

And which one do you think everyone should read?

If the two pitches above for Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt didn't seal the deal, then that one is lost beyond redemption. 😜 So I have two shorties...

This Pets 4 Vets story featuring Jesse is long enough to create some chemistry, have some funny ups and downs, and enjoy a satisfying connection at the end (and some hot bangin' in the bonus chapter, LOL). I love the trope of being let in by someone who hides behind a front and this one was really enjoyable that way.

And lastly, this Tup x Reader keeps coming to mind. Idk why, but it's playful, awkward, satisfying, and sweet. The dialogue prompt was "Don't ever do that again! ...you have no idea what it does to me." And it involves his hair, surprise surprise. 😉 PLUS, I love writing "the boys", whether it's the Batch or the 501st, cause those dynamics seem to really enrich the whole thing.

Thanks for letting me ramble. 💕

AND FOR ANYONE ELSE READING, hahah, I feel like I write almost the same trope over and over, so if you have some requests that you'd like to hear in my style, but are different in content than my usual stuff, drop em in my asks!

[clairevberry]

mourning a very specific version of an iwtv (not show version, sorry!!) musical in my head. a projection that reads 1976 is across the curtain. open on louis and lestat being interviewed separately. louis sits at a table in a run down hotel, being interviewed by a young journalist. lestat sits in front of a camera (in full rockstar mode) being interviewed by a documentarian. they begin to tell their stories, saying “the year was 1791” in unison. the year flashes once more as the stage begins to transform, and the music picks up. they each give exposition. louis mentions how he recently lost his wife and unborn child (once again, sorry paul, it’s for the claudia parallels) lestat mentions how he recently lost his dear friend nicki, notably hesitating on the word “friend.” during this exposition, both are lost into the dark night streets of new orleans before reappearing in their 1791 clothing. plot continues to happen. I’d really like to focus on the idea that lestat turned louis out of loneliness. he turned everyone he ever loved into a vampire, and not one stayed with him. blah blah blah claudia happens. throughout this at several points we freeze the scene in time as one of the interviewers asks a question. louis or lestat look to the audience and answer. whenever the year changes, it flashes across the screen as we get more snippets of the interviews. develop the trios relationship, imply feelings between louis and lestat. end act i with claudia killing lestat, and their eventual escape to europe. open act ii with interviews again, this time louis recounting their search for other vampires in a large scale, fast paced song. project a map to show everywhere they go. blah blah paris happens. cut between the lead up to claudia’s death and the interviews, creating a sense of dread. lestat and louis are once more present in the interviews during her death, rather than simply speaking to the audience from within the story they are telling. sitting in their chairs, they both break down in grief. in the aftermath, some version of the “I could not prevent it” conversation happens. they separate. from the interview chairs they say in unison “I never saw him again.” sad song about grief and living forever. whole thing with louis attacking the journalist happens. he decided to seek out lestat. documentarian asks question that makes lestat want to seek out louis. awkward reunion that ends with a heartfelt conversation about claudia and companionship. tagline “the worst thing a vampire can be is alone.” please take this whole thing with a grain of salt, this was just me trying to condense the first book into a thematically cohesive musical structure while considering some fun technical details. I wanted to make lestat more of an equal protagonist to incorporate parts of the vampire lestat into his background. as a result of this I changed the ending slightly. it’s bittersweet, but there’s a catharsis with their reunion as apologies and confessions are made. music style wise I’m very much thinking dracula, the scarlett pimpernel, frankenstein musical.

[finishwhatyoustarted-event]

Tools Tuesday - Fiber and Fabric Craft Support + What To Do During Breaks - April 15

Happy Tools Tuesday, everyone! Today’s topic is especially for all the yarn and fabric crafters participating and sharing their progress in the discord!

Just like with any other medium, it can be easy to get into the flow when working on a physical craft project, and totally lose track of time - only to reap the consequences of cramped muscles and aches. That’s why setting a timer can be a great strategy. There are many guides online about different work-break timer strategies; my personal favorite are these Pomodoro timers from How To ADHD, which have break timers built into the video (and no annoying clock sounds except when the timer is about to end)

(though I admit, I also have a habit of “timing” myself by watching episodes of a show, then forgetting to stretch in between!)

Figuring out what balance of time will depend on you, your mood, and your project. But sometimes, “taking a break” is too nebulous a concept. What could a break entail?

The annoyingly simple answer is: it varies! The long answer is figuring out what works for you.

I try to remember to check in with my body during a break and address basic needs I neglected while focused. Ask yourself:

Are you hungry?

Are you thirsty?

Do you need to use the bathroom?

Are there any physical aches?

Are you curled up oddly?

Do your eyes feel strained?

Addressing 1, 2, and 3 are simple but easily forgotten. For 4, I have shared a sheet on some common stretches previously, but there are a wealth of stretches, yoga poses, and exercises recommended for knitters, crocheters, and sewists.

As with any exercise, be aware of your body and mindful to not hurt yourself!

This video has some hand stretches not covered in previous posts here.

And here’s a full playlist of yoga moves put out by the yarn brand Lion Brand, aimed at knitters and crocheters. Many of the moves are designed to be done from a chair, so you don’t even have to get up if all you need to do during your break is stretch!

Many back stretches covered in that playlist also help with 5, posture. If you find you’re curling uncomfortably over your work, or that your hands regularly ache after crafting, perhaps it is your tools that need to step up their game. A little support can go a long way.

I often crochet with a pillow on my lap, to keep my hands up in a comfortable, relaxed position, and to keep me from leaning too far forward. A rolled up blanket or long plushie can do the same job. Ergonomic shaped needles and hooks can help if your hands cramp when working or you find you have to tightly grip the tools. Likewise, supportive gloves or wrist braces can aid when repetitive motions make your wrist ache. Better lighting or magnifiers make seeing stitches easier.

There should be no shame in using assistive devices! Do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself while you create!

For 6, eye strain, we can forget this can be an issue even when not working at a computer. The 20-20-20 idea (look at something 20ft away for 20 seconds after 20 minutes of close-up focus) goes for reading a book or doing crafts as well. Anything where you’re staring at something right in front of you for a long time can make your eyes ache. I really liked this video that goes over ways to mitigate eyestrain from a computer, as well as some exercises that I regularly do myself when I feel my eyes get sore.

Adding additional lighting can also help prevent eyestrain. If you find the light gives you a headache, try swapping the bulbs for something of a different color (warmer/cooler), or changing where the source sits. Sometimes I wear a visor when working with bright overhead shop lights.

As always, these tips are just my personal recommendations that you can use as starting off points for finding what works for you. Your breaks don’t need to be structured to be beneficial. Moving your body in a change of scenery to get a snack might be all you need. Or you could start a load of laundry and work while it’s going, which gives you a timer and a different physical task to do during your break when it’s ready to be hung/changed to the other machine.

Do whatever works for you, just please take care of yourself! We artists might suffer for our art, but creating art shouldn’t make you suffer.

Got any tips or resources? Or a tool that helped you craft more comfortably that you think others should know about? Share it in the comments or reblogs!

-

Tools Tuesday is a weekly part of the Finish What You Started event where I share various resources I have found to help everyone complete their WIP. Have a resource you want to share? Send it in a message and I’ll take a look!

[crow-with-a-typewriter]

Time to actually do a writeblr intro, wow this took me forever to make.

HI! I’m Crow, I like writing sometimes & wanna post about how I write sometimes. To do that I gotta have a place where people can have summaries of my too many projects. So, here

Most of my projects (except for War & Wings) take place in Cievia, a high fantasy world that I’ve been working on for 5 years now and love immensely.

[ ] means the name hasn’t been decided yet; a placeholder name

Novels

The Wanderer’s Guide

A somewhat academic-style, whimsical story of two best friends accidentally creating the first ever encyclopedia (and leading a decrepit world into a new golden age).

It’s a platonic love story as these two idiots (affectionate) travel the world together, gaining a comprehensive understanding of demonology, metaphysics, and the structure of the universe while on their roadtrip to go everywhere and experience everything in the world. That roadtrip just ends up longer than expected when they keep unintentionally helping wayward gods. And being the only witnesses to the death of the King of Heaven. And then fixing heavenly bureaucracy. And getting into underworld legal drama. And making a child from scratch to repopulate humanity. Y’know, usual roadtrip things.

A lot happens when a cartographer/scholar and a wilderness guide decide to be best friends, okay?

Wanderer’s Guide will be a multi-book series that sees everything in Ceivia in its lowest state. Zipping Dragonfly (cartographer & scholar) and Cal Ipse (wilderness guide) go through Heaven, the Mortal Plane, and the various afterlives out of a youthful desire to see the world, and it’s their need to help the people & gods they encounter that makes the world start to slowly recover. It’s a very domestic and hopeful story and it’s easily my biggest project.

Themes on what the different kinds of love look like & how they often overlap, the ability or lack thereof to feel an emotion doesn’t make you evil, learn from history or be doomed to repeat it, it’s never too late to try to get/be better, evil is a matter of perspective, and organizations can and should change with changing times.

[To Adapt]

A sort of side-sequel to Wanderer’s Guide? It follows the stories of two side characters as they reconnect and start traveling together.

It takes the perspective of Isal, a former major god who was out for the count for a solid two eras and is now back with no family left, his people barely remembering him, and without most of his power. Isal, when brought back, is greeted & taken care of by Lutt, a major enemy of his back in the day. Lutt has fallen from grace too; the civilization that worshiped him is gone. Lutt, once the god of rulership and an advisor to kings, is now the god of stories & wandering minstrels with almost no worshipers at all. The story follows the two as Isal relearns how to be a nobody, and tries to figure out a new domain for himself.

It’s borderline a philosophical dialogue, with the two constantly debating with each other. The big question is about betrayal. Isal used to (and might still) be the god of betrayal, so he has opinions about it. Lutt thinks it’s a neutral thing, whether it’s good or bad is determined by who you’re doing it to, and some forms of betrayal are the right thing to do no matter who you’re doing it to. Isal thinks that it is awful in all forms. Betrayal can be justified or necessary, but it is always morally wrong.

Lots of grappling with immorality and what it means, how you handle outliving people you love, and what to do if it all gets dull or tired.

Empire of Nixarian

This one is about the slow expansion of an empire on a very cold continent, told from the perspectives of the emperor, the emperor’s advisor(and lover), a runaway slave from a neighboring kingdom, and a small group of soldiers at the front line. It takes inspiration from the reigns of Qin Shi Huang and Wu Zetian.

The perspective of the emperor deals with internal workings and politics of the palace, as well as his dubious sanity. The emperor’s advisor has a lot of focus on the politics of the demons and spirits of the frozen landscape, ensuring the safety of his emperor, and managing his own demonic nature. The ex-slave’s story focuses on the magic system as she learns it and uses it to maintain her freedom. The soldiers’ story shows the horrors of the front line & the love of found family, used as contrast to the goings on of the palace.

Themes of how mental illness doesn’t make you a bad person, who the ‘hero’ of a story is is subjective, the nature of family & romantic relationships, and whether trying to live up to a legacy is worth it.

Web Comics

War and Wings

War & Wings is a story meant to play with the stereotypes & tropes of Fae King x Spunky Peasant Woman romances.

It’s a political drama & romance between a former nobleman and a fae queen.

A nobleman, named Ivan, was taught levitation magic by his sister (before she left) as a child (only women are allowed to learn magic). He wanted to spend his days in archery, romance novels, and practicing magic in secret, but he had to get married to secure the family line. He delayed marriage as long as possible, and when he couldn’t delay it anymore at home he joined the army as an archer.

At the border of the fae lands, [Queenie] has united all the clans of her people under one banner. She is leading them to conquest into human territories to have a place for her own people away from the constant threat of dragons and other great beasts. She has conquered a decent chunk of human territory, and is in the process of renovating a crumbling fort into a palace city complex.

While at war, Ivan and others are captured by [Queenie]. Ivan is picked out to be a palace servant. Plot ensues as Ivan finds he actually enjoys being a servant and the power he wields by influencing other servants and blackmail.

[Queenie] ends up finding out about his skill with levitation & the power he wields as a servant. She makes a deal with him. He will be her personal servant (a position of safety), and he will turn his network of servants into a network of spies for her. He agrees. Romance spirals from there.

I enjoy this one a lot since the story is kind of a story of villains? [Queenie] and her flying menace of a lover Alfe (Ivan starts calling himself Alfe) are very antagonistic to very hero-coded adventurers who are trying to stop them from continuing their conquest.

Medium To Be Determined

[Wandering House]

This one is mostly just vibes right now. Inspirations from Howl’s Moving Castle, the Kidnapping of Persephone, and Baba Yaga.

A traveler is lost in a blizzard when he finds a manor. He breaks in and makes himself warm by the fireplace. At some point he eats food there. He looks for people but he can’t find any, but things keep getting fixed up and arranged like servants are working around the manor. At some point the traveler meets the master of the manor, who is determined to keep him there for some reason, probably loneliness. The master of the manor is up to some spooky shit and the traveler goes “Nope” and tries to leave. He can’t, doors won’t open and when he finally breaks a window to leave he ends up back at the manor anyway.

He does manage to get away at some point, and manages to stay away for a while by actively dodging the place no matter how often it appears on the road. He gets forced back eventually.

The manor is full of spirits that work as servants :]

[Protect the Heir]

I have a better grasp on this one.

A snake demon & an enchanted soldier are desperate to protect the last surviving heir to the royal family until she reaches maturity.

The guard has been through many surgeries, removing his bones to be placed in weapons so that he’ll be able to control them with his mind. So many bones have been removed that he’s missing an arm, his feet are mostly metal, the remaining arm is in shreds, and his jaw got replaced with metal so he can’t speak. He is the princess’s protector and the only person she has other than her godmother, the snake demon. The guard is an older brother to the little princess; she adores him.

Revolutionaries think that the demon and guard are manipulating the princess, or are going to puppeteer her, or otherwise hurt her so they kidnap her. The snake demon stays behind as regent to keep the place running, the guard goes to steal the princess back.

This one will probably be a comic but I haven’t decided yet.

[manic-maniac-man]

Maison Martin Margiela PITTI IMAGINE UOMO REPORT & INTERVIEW

Aw06 (pt.2)

"The invitation was a demitasse cup that featured handwritten details about the show."

"The reception party held at Theatro Puccini on the night of January 12th. The view from a camera positioned at the entrance was projected on screens inside the venue. In a piece of clever trickery, models for the show appeared on screens walking in the front door but suddenly strode out onto the main stage. After their appearances, each of them slipped away into the crowd with the presentation ending in just a few moments. The models then proceeded to party along with the assembled throng. All were clad in clothes from assorted past collections, some of which were especially painted white for this event."

What is the concept behind your project at PITTI?

We were kindly invited by Pitti Imagine to attend their last fair in June 2005. On that occasion we spent most of our time visiting all of the pavil- ions and stands of the participants and were greatly inspired by the ener- gy and bustle of the place. Of course the projects of the invited and fea- tured designers were great yet we were more drawn by the core energy and purpose of Pitti itself. Pitti is a men's wear fair first and foremostly yet it is also a meeting of minds, cultures and creativity where people of our industry have the time to work, socialise, catch up on news, ideas and the work of others. This was our primary stimulus in our project and we very quickly decided that we would like our project to be within this maelstrom of creativity and commerce.

As the colour white is a key element of the expression of the Maison Martin Margiela and commerce, stands, booths, cafés and restaurants are key to the life of Pitti we decided to have these aspects confront each other and try to create a "Fair within a Fair", a game of sorts. For this reason we decided to bring our 'White' to as many aspects of the life of Pitti imagine Uomo 69 as possible in the stands and areas we have created as well as propose souvenirs of this Pitti and provide light moments of distraction, relaxation and fun for its visitors.

-What are your impressions of PITTI?

We have always been greatly impressed by the strength that Pitti Imagine and Pitti Uomo represent for our industry and even more impressed by all of the projects that have been created and staged by our predecessors ans invited designers at Pitti Uomo. The organizers of Pitti Imagine have had a lot of patience with us down through the years as this was certainly not the first time that they have invited us to partici pate. On the other occasions we had decline as we were too small a team to cope with putting on the type of project we would have liked to We are more than happy that Pitti Imagine persisted with their invitation and that we can now bring a part of who we are to Fiorence.

-Why are all of the Maison Martin Margiela interiors and con- tents painted white?

We have always used white as an expression of our House, team and work. White represents a force through fragility for us. It is never just white and more-whites all the shades possible! We usually use mat white so that the passage of time is evident.

-Many Critics have commented on your work as being on the borderline between fashion and art. is that how you regard it as well?

We view it as firmly footed on the fashion side of the fence yet we are happy to learn of how our work touches others. It is not that we view our work in one way that any other interpretation is not valid. Such an interpretation, in this case that our work is closer to that of an artist, though welcome, remains entirely subjective

-Your Artisanal collections remake vintage clothes. Why?

We have always enjoyed the challenge of reworking existing clothes, fabrics and objects to create new garments and accessories. This challenge is linked to finding a new role and force for these materials, revisiting their structure and use. For us it is not that garments are vintage in the since that this word has now become we use materials and garments from many sources and periods - many of them very ordinary.

-What effect did Martin Margiela's time as designer at Hermès have on his work for the Maison Martin Margiela lines?

When he first got the offer, Martin Margiela felt that it was a great honour. Many interpret luxury as a level of quality, but we perceive luxury as quality with functionality that it is important for something to be able to have a long term of use. The experience at Hermès further strengthened Martin's belief in this principle.

-How do you view the trends? Do they have any effect on Maison Martin Margiela?

We inhabit the realm of individuality, so we tend not to concern ourselves with trends. We do, however, understand that as long as one has an interest in clothes, they cannot be ignored. As people who make clothes, we may absorb them subconsciously.

-Your men's and women's wear collections are very different. Why is that? And why no men's fashion shows?

The original title we gave to 10, our men's wear was "A wardrobe for men. In this our approach is much more linked to purely a sensibility of dressing than a creative expression in the designer' sense of the term. Our focus is much more on the details of construction and fabrics of individual garments than on outfits and styling. In our view most men search a less radical, more introverted, expression through their clothes than the women who enjoy wearing our clothes. For 1 (our collection for women) the approach is much more one of an ongoing study on the form of a gar ment as it is worn on the body as well as the overall silhouette. The challenge is to invent and bring new views on the shape of garments to our customers. As for the lack of shows for 10 this is born from our wish to present the clothes being wom in a more day to day environment than that of a fashion show for this reason we tend more to present the wardrobe via a photo reportage with an explanation of the detailing of the main gar ments of 10 for any particular season in a more one-on-one setting.

-How has the sale of the majority of your company to Diesel changed your life?

It is Renzo Rosso, President of Diesel group that has entered our company as a majority shareholder. In a certain way this means that Diesel is a 'sister company' rather than being directly part of our structure. The changes we are experiencing are both sought and very evaluative, natural and are very reassuring in that we now have access to an expertise and approach to the more structural aspects of our work as a company that eluded us prior to this change in our structure.

-Is there anyone you'd like to wear your clothes? Do you wear your Maison Martin Margiela clothes?

Among people like us who love clothes, there are many who place importance on a creativity and sensitivity. There are many people like that among the Japanese. Of course, we all wear Maison Martin Margiela.

-In the past you have collaborated with Rei Kawakubo, what Impression did you have of her?

Whether you are Japanese or Belgian, Madame Kawakubo is a very great woman. Despite the fact that she has already become a legend, she continues in her pursuit if creation. That is a wonderful thing. To us. she is both 'spiritual mother' and 'creative sister.

-Martin Margiela refuses to be photographed. This makes you unique in a business that thrives on celebrity and cult of per- sonality. Why did you decide on this policy?

In any case we do not adopt this way of behaving just to be unique but more so that we may find our way to function and to proceed that best represents our priorities for our work and the means of stimulation for us in our work that we choose to focus on. If we were not to find our way of functioning to continue over the long term was not to be possible.

-The Maison Maartin Margiela speaks as a collective, why have you chosen to do this?

In order that we best reflect the reality of our work together. Even though the final result of our work may be accredited to the creative vision of a designer and their team (as is the case for all other fashion design com- panies) we preferred that the contribution of all team members to this final result be expressed in a more transparent manner. It must also be said that our wish to communicate collectively clearly evokes the position that we have taken with the label on our clothes since our beginning in 1989, namely, that it be blank or with numbers and not the name of one individual printed on it.

-Some people have speculated that there is no such person as Martin Margiela...

We have been hearing this for a long time now. It is sad that people do not accept the way that a person wants to be, and leave him alone. The reason that Martin Margiela is not exposed to the media is absolutely not an attempt to create some sense of mystery. If you want to know about us, look at the clothes we make that is everything - there is no need for a designer to be visible. For the record, fear not; the designer Martin Margiela does exist in the flesh.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

I want to talk a bit about a thing I played around with... this last February, apparently (in the midst of quitting my job and upending my life? wow). Consider this a sort of vague and casual interest check, as well, simply because I'm curious.

Note that this specific little self-indulgent project isn't publicly available and most likely won't ever be - I just had a couple people I know run through it for fun, as it's super rough and ultimately kind of pointless as-is. But I am actually interested to hear what people around these parts think of this kind of interactive fiction as a fanfic format. If I suddenly decided to go all in on writing, I don't know, a post-game Selûnite mini murder mystery in something like this, would this even be a kind of fanwork anyone would want? Or want to participate in, even?

In any case, what "this" even is is me messing around, first in Twine and then in Ink (which was brought to my attention thanks to Heaven's Vault being one of my favourite things ever). Then trying out what hosting things on itch.io looks like, after which I tried out both Unity and Godot variants of plugging the Ink into an existing engine - this was pretty much a test vehicle for me to play around with for a couple of evenings in a private little game jam. Outside of poking around Ren'Py five million years ago, this is the first time I've actually tried making anything interactive in this sense. And honestly, I loved it!

It's really not much, writing-wise, at about 5k words total. Just a bunch of scenes harnessing that sweet, sweet BG3 hyperfixation, shaped purely around me trying out different things in a technical sense and using the characters as a sort of shorthand while doing so. So you have fairly classic branching dialogue trees (Wyll), scenes that change when you leave and then come back (Jaheira), scenes that briefly diverge but end up at the same place and set some flags in the process (Aylin, Lae'zel), some stuff hidden behind checks you need to make (Halsin, Shadowheart, Isobel), and completely random events that may or may not happen during certain scene transitions (Orin). What I identified as the essentials, really.

I did a bit of exploring ways to incorporate small changes to encounters depending on which order you do them in. As a very simple example:

The above basically means your dialogue changes very slightly depending on if you found Shadowheart before talking to Aylin. Additionally, if you ask Aylin to tell you where Shadowheart supposedly went (which is completely optional even if you do talk to Aylin first), you'll have a bit of extra dialogue in the scene with Shadowheart when that flag up there gets checked. So some very, very basic reactivity - just for flavour, here.

My skill checks were plain d20 rolls without modifiers and with fixed DCs - a simple "create your character" intro bit would be perfectly doable, though, to get some stats and bonuses going. But roll badly enough and you can always make a complete ass of yourself in front of the Blade himself!

Visuals are super rudimentary, obviously. Taking a zoomed-out screenshot of the BG3 camp and blurring it to get this nice, chill background where that damn fire actively interferes with readin-- I mean, look at this, dynamically changing the look of the text to convey a shift in mood!

And, of course, a little structure of options and checks to get some of the good old "choices and failures having meaningful consequences":

(...for Shadowheart, at least. Sorry.)

In conclusion, this was all very fun to try out, and I can see a bigger project spiraling completely out of control because it's so tempting to try to cover everything in the universe and make everything branch out infinitely! But I also definitely want to do more of it, beyond this little proof of concept/experiment. I'd also love to encourage people to try their hands at this themselves - both of the tools/languages I mentioned and linked up there are very beginner-friendly and very well-documented. Give them a try! There's also a sea of works already out there to jump into, to see how these things can be used and the interactivity part leveraged to great effect - I've still barely scratched the surface, myself.

[zoobus]

I'm not normally a victim of FOMO tactics, nor do I usually let being late to the party stop me from chatting about a piece of media but I'm genuinely sad I didn't get into Obey Me/Nightbringer earlier. It makes me want to write a million essays but the disposable and decentralized nature of gacha kind of makes it feel like you missed your chance to talk about it. I keep coming across years old, unrepliable comments that I want to jump on sooo bad but I can't because the moment is gone and most of these people have likely moved on to less overtly money-hungry games.

Which sucks! because one essay I want to write in particular is how this game is extremely skilled in arousing your desire to create, to actively engage with the characters and worldbuilding, to do fandom shit, and I find this enormously fascinating in itself. The story isn't good but to a certain extent, it's not supposed to be; it functions as an elaborate set of writing/art/rp prompts for its audience to expand on and tailor to their needs.

And I think Obey Me does this well! Amazingly well. I find discussion of narrative structure fascinating, the study of how we define writing as effective, good, or as failures, so I'm drawn to this story full of contradicting lore, one-note characters, and half-finished plots. The story isn't good but that hardly matters because it's not here to be a good story; it's here to throw you into imagination boot camp. It compels you to speculate what it could be, what this character could be, what a slightly different tone would look like, what other people think about it. It feels distinct from the average popular show fandoms where, to an extent, creators congregate simply because that's where the people are. Creating for your own sake is nice and all but validation is usually a stronger force. Usually.

I keep coming across old high effort researched posts about abrahamic religions and occultism from fans setting themselves up for inevitable disappointment. I keep coming across creators leaving notes on their work like "I haven't written a thing in ten years, but,". I keep losing it over heartfelt posts defending x and y canon story decisions with their whole chest, oblivious to the fact that they're misremembering their personal tweaks/headcanons as what happened in the game, like it's seriously so cute when they're so passionate and completely wrong.

I have no idea if fandom actually plays a role in the lucrativeness of a franchise (though as a personal anecdote, I 100% started Obey Me after a single piece of horny Mammon fanart crossed my dash), but it makes more sense to me now, less a projection of wishful/haterful thinking from those with strong opinions about Fandom. Maybe it really does matter.

---

Other essays I missed the boat on:

A Casino Right in Your Home: goddamn is the pre/sequel's gacha obscene

Satan: how to put a mid character into S-tier with one simple trick (make him insane)

Sorry Belphie defenders but you're imagining a better psycho than you were given

Solmare added a shiny new rhythm game but didn't fix the now four year old coloring error on Levi's hands lmfaooo the disrespect is crazy

Remember when you saw the Nightbringer trailer of them glaring in bdsm gear with freshly blackened wings, and you thought "ah, so this takes place right after they fought god and lost. After they went to war to protect their sister only for her to die anyway. After one brother in particular saves someone, but not her, the focal point of the war. They will finally take these to their logical, guilt despair rage pain and grudge filled ends." And you were correct until that very last sentence? lol

Remember when the Ruri-chan event gave you the option to tell Levi you're not cheating on him and then the rest of the event was just making out with his brothers? Then it ends with you kissing him in front of them? Bring that energy back!!!

[gaviicreates]

Gavii Learns Stuff - Colorwork and also FFXIV

I don't know colorwork, so naturally I'm making G'raha Tia's Endwalker scarf. Oh, and I'm also primarily a crocheter, so let's plan to knit it instead.

I have no self control when inspiration strikes, and also I like to learn by doing, so here we are - this'll be my journey.

Step 1: Screenshot the hell out of Raha

Can we talk a moment about how strange this scarf design is? Not the colorwork, but the actual structure of this strange piece of material.

The main center design drapes down from his right shoulder to his left, then down the front, but then the opposite length somehow wraps, then pivots to turn right back down the same shoulder. There's gotta be a button or something, and even with the twine or rope that's clearly keeping everything together, I can't figure out the full construction of this one. If inspo strikes along the way we'll see, but for now I think I plan to just make a full scarf, and worst case, it can be knotted on the the left shoulder to create the effect where the two length drape down the same side in the front and back.

We can make it work. But, darling, your scarf makes no sense.

Step 2: Study the design, draft, re-draft, rinse repeat

I'm not accustomed to making my own graph patterns, or patterns in general, but I guess the concept is what it is. Make the thing into pixels and color code?

I got to work in Excel, copy & pasted. Compared it to the scarf, and tried again. Then once I figured out the general shape, the hardest part was figuring out what repeat would work for both the bottom design and the main in order to have everything flow.

There will end up being quite the length of stockinette in grey between designs. I haven't yet figured out how far I want to go, so that's another thing we'll be winging.

My plan is to work the pattern in the round to create a scarf tube, so this can be two sided to account for some of the fabric waving I think is going on Once complete I can sew up the ends and add the fringe.

Step 3: Yarn and Go

I'm writing this having started the project already, so I think if I make this again in the future I might go down to a DK weight. The pattern is working, and I think it will be fine, but it will be a big scarf - somewhere between a scarf width and a shawl width. My pattern might end up a bit bigger than anticipated, overall. That said - I am using a value acrylic in worsted weight - JOANN's Big Twist in Titanium, Varsity Gold, and Black.

For the first few rows I was figuring out the tension for my floats, because while I did actually practice with a different yarn and needle size for a bit, who has time for swatching? Remember that jumping right into a project thing I like to do?

Yeah, I did that again.

Thanks for coming on my THIRD ffxiv project! I'm excited for this one, and I am so glad it's going to be such a good one to learn from. I know I haven't posted too much lately, but I promise - I'm always crafting.

[brotrustmeicanwrite]

How do you balance maintaining a consistent writing routine?

Oh boi if only I could actually do that. Ok here we go~

Writing Creating Consistently

Creating consistently is one of the biggest challenges for any creative out there, not just writers. But despite so many people experiencing the same exact problem there is no universal solution. And the reason for that is simple: every person is different and the reason behind their struggles are just as diverse as humanity itself. For some it’s just difficulty keeping a habit alive, for others it’s circumstances of life and for people like me it can even just be their neuro-type.

But it’s not like there’s nothing you can do. So, here are two ideas to try to write more consistently, for both the organised and the chaotic:

Journaling +

This idea works best for those who don’t struggle too much to keep a habit alive or those who already journal or do something similar regularly anyway. Basically all you do is add a daily writing task to your routine. It can be anything like writing a short paragraph, working on character details or even just researching something. What exactly you do doesn’t matter as long as you’re doing something. But the most important thing to keep in mind is to keep the task tiny.

Once we start doing something, more often than not, much more will follow naturally. But if we make the task too big, we risk ending up dreading it. For that reason, your daily task should be something easy that can be done in no more than 5 minutes. That way you’ll get the satisfaction of doing something almost every day and don’t disappoint and demotivate yourself with piled up days of being unable to fullfill your goals.

Tiny Book

This technique works best for the more chaotic (and/or audhd) type and is the one I personally use for both writing and art. The basic idea of this technique is to simply always have something on you to catch your random bursts of inspiration throughout the day. For most people this will probably be their smartphone and maybe one of those cheap mini pens with the rubber stylus at the end. If you don’t like the notes app or just writing stuff down in a text document (or a hundred separate ones) here’s some apps that I use(d in the past):

Obsidian - very similar to a notes app, except you can link documents and build your own little Wikipedia. Including the clickable links within text and all.

Concepts - gives you an infinite canvas to take notes and draw stuff like mind maps. You’ll need a stylus for this one if you don’t want to write with your fingers. There are in app purchases but you really don’t need them and I’m using the free version with no problems too.

Campfire Blaze - (also as website) is specifically built to plan and share your writing projects. It has a lot of pre built functions to plan characters, maps, lore, magic systems etc.

Story Plotter - very similar to campfire except the focus is on structuring your story. A lot of people swear by it but I personally can’t give much more details because it just isn’t my style of program.

If you’re more of the traditional type though, get yourself a small notebook to always (and I mean always) carry around. Preferably a durable one that fits in your pocket and has a loop for a pencil. Also I recommend using a short technical pencil with an eraser at the end to avoid having to carry that and a sharpener around. Remember, we want the most comfortable quick and easy access so it doesn’t become a hassle to always have access to your materials.

On that note,

Why oh why, IKEA, did you stop making those cute but sturdy notebooks? That’s it, we’re breaking up. Søstrene Grene, you’re my new paper supply girlfriend. You may be more dainty and delicate, less sturdy than Ikea, but at least you’re there for me.

Ok but seriously, tip for the artists: søstrene grene has those teeny tiny blank books with really nice paper (easy 100+ pages) that fit into even a women’s front pocket and are perfect for quick thumbnailing. Just make sure to enforce the binging by putting some washi tape ore sum around the edges and glue it down on the backing bc they fall apart easily.

Anyway

Happy writing creating <3

[greenhorn-art]

It Starts with a Dream by Autumn_Rain @ciaolongbao

Fandom: 全职高手 | The King's Avatar

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 6 566

In a collaboration with Make-a-Wish Foundation, the Glory Professional Alliance hosts an event in Shanghai so that the children could meet their idols and heroes. It was a normal publicity stunt and charity event until it stopped being one. Trust Ye Xiu to always derail the Alliance's plans, but this time no one could blame him, or Han Wenqing, for that matter. Who would expect them to be so good with kids?

About the book:

FONTS: Crimson [Google Fonts], Roboto [Google Fonts], and Georgia

IMAGES: Equalizer background from Rawpixel (ID: 3119862); Gamepad icon (Image# 5358929) by pictranoosa on The Noun Project; Heavenly Domain image from The King’s Avatar Wikia.

MATERIALS: 20lb 96 bright 8½”×11”multiuse paper; 0.057" chipboard; Ruby red Iris Bookcloth; Neenah bright white 8½”×11” 65lb cardstock; 30/3 waxed linen thread; wheat paste (1:4 flour to water).

PROGRAMS USED: typeset in Affinity Publisher 2; cover designed with Affinity Designer 2 and Affinity Photo 2; imposed with Renegade's Community Imposer (settings: Quarto, snug against binding edge, signatures of 2 sheets).

Textblock printed with laser printer, covers printed with inkjet printer.

BINDING: Quarto size (quarter-letter, 4.25"x5.5"), sewn board binding with French-link stitch and breakaway spine.

Trying New Things 2: Electric Bugaloo!

Though it's not my first time making a quarto size book, it's my first sewn board binding and my first breakaway spine. Will not be my last. (I'm fact, as I'm writing this I've already bound another QZGS fic using this method!)

Much like Coptic, the sewn board binding technique bypasses the exact things I dread about making a case bound book: making the cover and casing in. Haven't gotten the hang of spines or hinges yet. Or pasting down the endpapers when casing in. (Art imitating life: my books aren't straight and neither am I lol)

Drumming things on (use of minimal glue, only on edges where necessary) is a lot less stressful and means there is less moisture to worry about. However I have my doubts about the structural integrity and longevity of sewn board binding when compared to case binding. With minimal glueing there's less holding it together, and the particular method of covering the boards means that they're partially exposed, in all their onion-y glory (by which I mean 🧅layers✨).

Onto the design:

The endpapers are an image of Glory's heavenly domain, acquired from The King's Avatar Wikia (I just cropped out the pro teams' logos, then resized and cropped to fit.)

The covers were designed as one image so that the contents will flow and connect from one cover to the other.

A major theme of this story, I felt, was connection: the kids are meeting their heroes; HWQ and YX stun everyone by connecting so well with the kids, playing with them, encouraging them, and inspiring them; YX opens up about his backstory and reveals a similar dream to a kid; that same kid going on to become a pro with New Excellent Era.

To pull some quotes from the story: "Everything started with a dream between friends… but now that dream will end with a legacy", "after all, you're never going to be walking alone. Glory has never been mean to be played alone", YX "[continued] inspiring new generations of gamers long after he had retired."

Following that theme of connection, the controllers on the covers are physically connected with a pinkish-red wire. For that I went with a red string of fate, thinking along the lines of fate and a love of Glory. The wire is also in the shape of a cancer awareness ribbon on the front cover (hence why the red is skewed pink).

The black and white controllers are like Player 1 & 2, and they're connected. To each other, to Glory.

I traced the gamepad icon with the pen tool in Affinity Designer, creating filled in curves of each component, for ease of recolouring and resizing without losing quality.

An equalizer background image, stretched and with low opacity, adds texture to the cover. It also reminded me of pixels from holograms. (The idea of the pros and kids' game playing out on stage with massive holograms really stuck with me).

I also wanted to directly reference Make-a-Wish in the cover design, so I looked up which font they use in the logo/branding. Search results turned up Georgia being used in relation to the brand, so I exclusively used that font on the covers. And added a little star above the 'i' in 'with', like in 'Wish' for the Make-a-Wish logo.

(also first attempt at nail art. Armed with a toothpick, I made Ye Xiu from The King's Avatar themed nails! 😾Sullen Kitten; 🌶️Unrivalled Super Hottie; ☂️Myriad Manifestations Umbrella; 🍁One Autumn Leaf; 😊Happy)

[wildwren]

the artful dodger meta dump

So I’ve been making a lot of Artful Dodger gifs and recommending it to people, etc, so I feel like now’s a good time to get down some thoughts about what I liked about the writing and what I wish they’d done better. I’m not intimately familiar with Oliver Twist the novel, so this won’t be an analysis of how the show succeeds as an adaptation or sequel. Rather, I’m assessing the show on its own terms and examining specific characterizations as they relate to gender and race.

warning: spoilers for the entire series

lady belle fox

The most divisive character in The Artful Dodger is without a doubt the female main character, Lady Belle Fox. Belle is a deeply intelligent and ambitious young white woman. She’s also the daughter of the colonial governor, existing in the highest strata of privilege her society can offer — excepting being a man. She’s very forward, bossy, egotistical, often self-serving and occasionally mean. She is, as the kids say, “unlikeable.”

So, is this the dreaded girlbossification in action? I don’t personally find the term “girlboss” to be a useful descriptor for analyzing female characterization, but if you find it useful, go right ahead. However, I do take issue with the accusations of “lazy girlboss writing” because I think the extremes of Belle’s characterization are pretty clearly a feature and not a bug.

The writing gives extensive in-story explanations for why Belle is Like This. She was raised by a wickedly smart mother, Lady Jane, whose marriage to Belle's fuddy-duddy father is a transparent front for her own personal ambitions. She essentially administers the colony herself while her husband works in the garden. Lady Jane recognizes these same qualities in her daughter and actively encourages them, steering Belle in the direction of similarly weak-willed young men who Belle might be able to manipulate into letting her lead the life she wants: one of medical study and practice. This is essentially how she approaches her relationship with Jack from the get-go. She sees him as a man she can manipulate and domineer for her own ends. The problem is, Jack isn’t actually a patsy. He’s a true match, and one of unfortunately unmarriageable quality.

The focus of Belle’s ambition is also not random. She’s has a chronic degenerative heart condition, one which she’s had to research and diagnose for herself, because the doctors around her have failed to give her useful information. It makes sense that her formidable intelligence would end up hyperfixating on medicine and surgery as a means of addressing her own illness.

Due to these factors — the matriarchal power structure of her family in combination with the patriarchal privilege of her culture — Belle can get away with almost anything. She throws her weight around the colony without consequence, invoking her father’s name at will without any of her father’s retribution. The writing certainly takes some liberties with anachronism, but this isn’t just a case of placing a modern woman in a period setting. They've made intentional characterization choices to back it up.

The writing is also very aware of Belle’s flaws and the tension they create with other characters. Belle’s privileged position makes it difficult for her to see the world from the same perspective as Jack. This is most notable in episode 6, when Belle tries to defend her father’s “law and order” crackdown as a necessary measure to control crime, and Jack has to explain to her the concept of structural violence. She’s also called out by Red, the outlaw who’s life Belle saves by means of an emergency surgery. Although Belle lies to protect her, Red doesn’t excuse Belle for her role in colonial project: “Your family are the biggest thieves in Port Victory.”

I was impressed with how this particular subplot was executed with regards to Belle’s arc. It doesn't feel like a “turn to the camera" teaching moment. It feels instead like the inevitable consequence of the tension that arises when people develop relationships across class and life experience. (“If you can’t see what’s happening here, Belle, then you and I have big problems. This puts a wall between us.”) It also doesn't feel like a misogynistic hit designed to take Belle down a peg. Her ego is healthy enough to get through unscathed.

However, there are some aspects of Belle’s specific brand of white feminism that aren’t as well executed. Most notable is her relationship with Hetty. Hetty is a hard-working nurse and Catholic woman of color who works in the hospital. She is increasingly sidelined both in her professional role and her role in Jack’s life by Belle’s self-empowering self-insertion into the surgical room. There’s clear tension between them, and understandable disapproval from Hetty towards Belle and Jack’s indulgence of Belle’s ego. However, this tension is never fully explored. By the end of the series, Hetty and Belle appear to be friends, or at least allies, with no discernible explanation. Is Hetty just that much bigger of a person? Does she think a rising tide will lift all ships? We don’t know, because her motivations are never examined. The closest we get is an introspective moment that implies Hetty’s unrequited feelings for Jack, which does little to explain her acceptance of Belle’s role in the hospital. It’s end up being unsatisfying, a disservice to Hetty’s quite interesting potential as a character.

jack’s gang

However, I think where the writing suffers most is in its failure to examine Jack’s whiteness and privilege. Jack identifies strongly as a have-not, despite having gained some power and privilege as a doctor, and over the course of the story, he ends up surrounded by a crew of other have-nots, most of whom are men of color. His closest friend before Fagin returns is an aboriginal man named Tim, an engineer (and partner to the outlaw Red) who makes prosthetic arms and legs for amputees. There’s potential here, but this relationship is never really examined. We don’t learn how they met or what drew them together, besides apparently working in the same building.

The only tension between them comes when Jack tries to guilt Tim into doing him a favor based on Jack’s previous generosity, and Tim hits back from an equal position: “Pricey, isn’t it? Your loyalty?” But just as with Hetty, this tension is dropped, and Tim’s and Jack’s goals are essentially aligned for the rest of the story. The other members of Jack and Fagin’s gang get even less exploration. On the one hand, it’s a gang of thieves getting up to silly hijinks — they’re not each going to have a fleshed out character arc. On the other hand, the characterization choices uphold some harmful colonial optics, where a diverse crew of characters answer to two white men as the explicit brains of the operation.

red

The best treatment for a character of color is almost certainly Frances ‘Red’ Scrubbs, a sharp-shooting aboriginal woman and a crafty outlaw (partner to Tim). This is definitely because Miranda Tapsell, the actress who portrays Red, was tapped as a consulting writer. (!!!!!). Red’s not a member of Fagin’s gang but a leader of her own crew, and she serves as a sort of playful nemesis to Fagin for the first few episodes, often outfoxing him or beating him to a steal. She also gets a subplot arc of her own, and is the source of the show’s most effective anti-colonial messaging. She embodies an ethos of unapologetic indigenous resistance. Her occasional solidarity with Fagin and Jack is always conditional on her own right to survive and thrive. Her distrust of the colonial medical system she must rely on to escape the noose is the closest the show gets to exploring medical trauma as structural violence (it’s still a very light dive.) The story ends with her taking revenge on the hateful lawman who targeted her and returning to the bush to live with her daughter.

If anything, the show could have benefited from more Red, a deeper exploration of her world and her gang outside of her interactions with Fagin and Jack. But one can understand how that might have been outside the scope of the showrunners' intentions.

At the end of the day, The Artful Dodger is a white-centric narrative. The focus of the story is the relationship between Jack and Fagin and the relationship between Jack and Belle, and both of these dynamics are excellently written. If it’s renewed for a Season Two, I hope they can extend the scope to give space for more complex narratives like Red's.