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angelremnants · 6 months ago

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A TALES OF... l Tangled Desires

OR.. Loki has not forgotten your previous taunts from the time you had found him trapped in chains—an event you often bring up. Now, he plans to exact revenge by getting even, as a means to remind you who truly holds the reins in your tumultuous relationship.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (+16), suggestive content, power dynamics, mild bondage, flirtation and teasing, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 2.5k

author's notes : As always, insomnia is my greatest friend and I chose to spend the few hours I have left until my law exam to write about my beloved.

At the request of @mischiefmaker615 , here is a continuation of A Tales Of Bound Intentions—you can also read this separately. You ask, and I shall deliver; I hope this is to your liking, I made it a bit spicier than usual for the occasion.

Buckle up, because what I have planned for a few of the upcoming A Tales Of will get progressively more and more explicit. Stay tuned. <3

(ao3 version)

The two of you had been on the run for a few days since their escape from the dungeon. Although he couldn't bring himself to admit it, the rough treatment and teasing that you had subjected Loki to during their time there had taken a toll on his God complex.

He couldn't accept that he had been treated like a toy by someone whose skill level was comparable to a fawn learning to walk for the first time. He didn't appreciate the smug look you would sometimes direct at him or the subtle hints you dropped, masked as comic mockery and playful threats whenever he didn't "behave," as you put it.

No, he couldn’t let it slide. He would teach you not to mess with a God, let alone the God of Mischief and Trickery.

And so, he did what he does best—scheming.

Loki began his plotting by planting the idea of having a solution to collect more information about the catalyst of your powers that sat around your neck, saying that he knew more about the artifact’s connection to you than he initially let on. He insisted that he has the knowledge to uncover the truth but that you must trust him completely—“blind faith,” as he so smugly put it.

Should you not be as naive as he thought you were, you should have detected the treachery in his words. “Blind faith”, coming from the God of Lies? What a ridiculous request.

But despite your better judgment, you agreed. What a feeble mind, he thought cunningly. She must be really desperate.

Loki then led you to a forgotten place, deep within an uncharted realm where the air felt heavy with magic, thick and suffocating. He inwardly thanked the countless hours he was forced to study the realms up to the mere small bush; after all, without his grand knowledge, the plan he had concocted would be for naught.

As you arrived at the morbid ground, Loki insisted that retrieving the artifact’s “answers” would require you to pass a series of “trials.” He conveniently left out the fact that these trials were entirely fabricated. Each trial was designed to challenge you physically, mentally, and emotionally—pushing you to your limits while giving Loki the chance to watch, guide, and subtly toy with you. He watched your reactions closely, his amusement barely hidden as you grew more frustrated.

At last, you approached the ruins lying beneath a sky frozen in twilight, violet and gold hues bleeding together like an endless dream. Towering columns crumbled under the weight of time, covered in twisting vines that shimmer faintly as if alive with latent energy.

“This is where we’ll find the answers,” Loki said, his voice velvety yet distant, gesturing dramatically to the morose entrance. “Or rather, where you will.”

You glared at him suspiciously, brushing dirt off your hands from the last “trial” he had made you endure. “And you’re absolutely certain this parchment of truth of yours will explain why I have these powers?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, without question, mortal.” The twinkle in his emerald eyes suggested anything but sincerity.

You moved deeper into the ruins, his every step deliberate and graceful, while you stumbled slightly over uneven stones. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous space, each drop like a drumbeat in your ears.

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” you muttered.

“Do try to keep up, mortal,” he teased, glancing back at you. “I’d hate to see you eaten by some lurking beast before we reach our destination.”

You muttered a string of curses under your breath, and he chuckled, the sound low and rich.

At last, you reached a vast chamber at the heart of the ruins. In the center, bathed in an ethereal light, was a pedestal. Atop it lies the artifact—a small piece of paper, pulsing faintly with a soft green glow, as if alive. The sight of it sent an inexplicable shiver through you.

“There it is,” Loki murmured, his voice dipping into something almost reverent. “The key to all your questions.”

Your eyes narrowed as you studied him. “Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this a little too much?”

His smile widened, sharp and dangerous. “Because I am.”

Ignoring his suspicious smirk, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you would gain some answers as to why your peaceful life was to be tragically moved. The closer you got to the artifact, the more it seemed to hum, its light growing brighter as if reacting to your presence. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the surface—

And then it phased through your hand, the glow extinguishing like a snuffed-out flame.

“What the—” You spun around, your confusion quickly morphing into anger. “Loki, what’s going on?”

His laugh echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking. “Oh, my dear, sweet mortal. Did you truly think it would be that easy?”

Before you could respond, glowing golden runes flared to life around you, their intricate patterns weaving through the air like serpents. In an instant, multiple shadows mimicking hands shot out, coiling around your wrists and binding your arms behind your back. You gasped, struggling against the hands, but they only tightened, holding you in place.

“Loki!” you snapped, fury blazing in your eyes. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Well, well, well. Look who’s all tied up now,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement as he sauntered closer.

“You bastard,” you snarled, straining against the bodiless binds. “I should’ve known. You planned this.”

“Of course I did,” he said with infuriating calm, his emerald eyes gleaming. “You messed with the God of Mischief, after all. Did you truly believe I wouldn’t take the opportunity to get a little… payback?”

Loki sauntered toward you, his movements languid and calculated, the glow of his seiðr spread around the room illuminating each of his steps. Your arms were pinned to the wall of rocks behind you, and despite your best efforts, your struggle only seemed to amuse him further. He approached, and you felt the weight of his gaze.

“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, Loki,” you snapped, your voice taut with anger as you glared at him. “Was this all some sort of twisted joke to you?”

“A joke?” His grin widened, sharp and merciless. “Oh, mortal, don’t flatter yourself. This is far more entertaining than a mere joke. Consider it… your next lesson.”

Your breath caught, your eyes narrowing as he circled you slowly, the sound of his boots echoing in the cavernous room. He moved around you, his presence a tangible force. “You think this is funny?”

He stopped right in front of you, his breath brushing against your neck as he leaned in, his voice a low purr. “I think it’s hilarious. Watching you stumble so earnestly toward a truth you were never going to find.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you growled, tugging at the glowing restraints. You strained against the magic holding you captive.

“And you’re predictable,” he countered smoothly as his expression shifted, the mocking tilt of his lips turning darker, more dangerous. “But I’ll admit, you do have your charms. It’s fascinating how someone so determined to appear strong can look so utterly vulnerable when bound like this.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to look away. You met his gaze, defiant. “If you think you can intimidate me—”

“Intimidate you?” He laughed, the sound rich and biting. “Oh, no, darling, you misunderstand. I’m not trying to frighten you.” His fingers trailed lightly along your jawline, sending an unbidden shiver down your spine. He touched you, a feather-light caress that sent a jolt through you. “I’m simply… admiring the view. What was it you said? “A sight to behold”, I believe. I’m sure mine is far better than yours was.”

Your eyes widened slightly, your composure slipping for the briefest moment, and Loki seized on it immediately. His grin sharpened, his hand tilting your chin upward. He held your face, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re wondering what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice dipping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “Shall I tell you? Or would that be too much for your delicate sensibilities?”

“I don’t care what you’re thinking,” you spit out, though your voice betrayed you, trembling just enough to embolden him. Your voice wavered, giving him the advantage.

“Oh, but you do.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. He whispered, his nearness unsettling. “You’d burn to know, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re disgusting,” you snapped, your voice trembling with fury—and something else you refuse to name. You felt a confusing mix of emotions, anger warring with something else.

He laughed softly, the sound curling around you like smoke. He chuckled, a sound that seemed to envelop you. “Am I? Or are you simply flustered because I’m saying the things you’d never dare to admit to yourself?”

“Let me go, Loki!” you demanded, your voice breaking slightly as you struggled against the binds. You renewed your efforts to escape, but the restraints held firm.

“To let you go..” His laugh is low and mocking as he circles you like a predator, his presence overwhelming in the empty, echoing chamber. He moved around you again, his presence suffocating. “Now, why would I do that?”

He stops in front of you, leaning in until their faces are a breath apart. He stood before you, so close you could feel his breath. “Do you know how breathtaking you look right now? Bound. Helpless. Furious. You wear indignation so beautifully.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your cheeks betrayed you, blooming red under his intense gaze. Your face flushed, despite your attempt to remain composed.

He chuckles, the sound warm and dark, wrapping around you like a velvet ribbon. His laughter surrounded you, a dark and seductive sound. “Oh, darling, you wound me. Do you truly think I’d go through all the trouble of setting this little trap if I didn’t enjoy myself? But please, anger yourself all you want, you're only becoming more and more enticing."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want from me, Loki?"

His grin widened, wicked and knowing. "I shall tell you, since you insist." His voice dipped lower, smoother, like the purr of a cat that’s cornered its prey.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers ghosting over your jaw, tilting your chin upward so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "For starters," he began, his tone almost soft, "I couldn't help but notice how deliciously you squirmed when I had you at my mercy. It’s… distracting, in the best possible way.”

“I’m imagining what it would be like,” he continued, his voice silk-soft but laced with wicked intent, “to see that defiance crumble. To watch you plead—not for freedom, of course. No, that’s far too mundane. But for something else entirely. Something only I could give you.”

Your breath hitched, your entire body going rigid as his words sank in.

“I wonder,” he drawls, his tone almost conversational, as though he’s discussing the weather, “how many ways I could make you squirm. Would you bite your lip? Whisper my name? Or perhaps,” his smile turns cruel, showcasing razor sharp teeth, “you’d try to fight it. Deny what you’re feeling. But your body would betray you in the end, wouldn’t it? You would try to hide the squeezing of your delectable thighs together, in hopes it wouldn’t catch my eye. But oh, dearest, the scent of you would be enough.”

Your breath hitched, and you tried to turn your head away, but his grip was gentle yet firm, keeping you in place.

“You see,” he uttered, his thumb brushing faintly over your lower lip, “I also can’t help but imagine what other delightful expressions I could coax out of you. Like when you’re truly flustered. Or desperate.” His smirk sharpened, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Would you let out profanities? Would you curse my name, or worship it? Or perhaps…” His voice lowered to a whisper, rich with heat. “…you’d beg?”

Your eyes widen, and your face turns a deeper shade of red. “Loki!”

“Mmh, how I love the sound of you screaming my name. Yes, darling?” he purrs, feigning innocence as his thumb slides just beneath your chin, his touch barely there but maddeningly deliberate.

“Y-You’re—I’m gonna kill you when I get out of this,” you stuttered out, your voice trembling with fury—and something else you refuse to name.

“And yet, here you are, at my mercy.” His smile softened slightly, but the glint in his eyes remained. “And I think you’re rather enjoying this little game of ours.”

“I—what? No!” You struggled against the binds again, more to distract yourself from the heat crawling up your neck than any real hope of escape.

He laughed, low and smooth. “Relax, darling. I’m only jesting… for now.”

Your jaw tightened, but he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Though I must admit, the thought of you like this—so at my mercy—does spark all sorts of wicked ideas. If only you could hear the things I’m thinking. The things I could do to you.” His voice dipped into something darker, more intimate, each word sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stop,” you snapped, though it came out weaker than you intended, your resolve wavering under his relentless teasing.

He pulled back slightly, his expression one of mock concern. “Am I making you uncomfortable, dearest? Or is it something else entirely?” His smirk returns, sharper than ever. “Because if I’m not mistaken, you’re blushing.”

“I am not!” you protested, but your reddened cheeks betrayed you once more.

“Oh, you are,” he insisted, leaning back in as if to inspect you more closely. “And it’s absolutely adorable. It makes me want to eat you up.”

Your glare intensified, but he only laughed again, clearly relishing every moment of your frustration.

With a flick of his fingers, the shadows retreated, and you stumbled forward, barely catching yourself. You glared at him, but he merely watched you, his expression unreadable now.

“Consider this a lesson to remember,” he said, stepping back and watching you with a smug grin. “You may have power, but I not only am I far more capable, I also have… an extensive imagination. Next time, darling, do try to keep your wits about you. It’s unbecoming to be so… defeated.”

“You’re a pain in the ass when you want to be,” you muttered, your fists clenching at your sides.

“And you’re too irresistible when you’re angry,” he purred back without missing a beat, his smirk softening into something almost fond before he turned and started walking away.

As you watched him go, your heart still pounding, you swore under your breath. Loki, you decided, is a menace—a brilliant, infuriating, dangerously charming menace.

You briefly wondered if your heart could handle the road, knowing this was what to expect repeatedly until your journey ended.

see more A Tales Of related ficlets.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

dividers ©️ @chachachannah + @toastray .

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everwhovian · 4 months ago

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what remains. | Hwang brothers | ao3

“The role of ‘older brother’ blurred into something bigger, heavier, he wasn’t just a brother anymore. He was something else. Something more.”

Before he was the Front Man, Hwang In-ho was just a brother. A glimpse into the life he left behind - the bond he shared with Jun-ho, the sacrifices he made, the choices that led him to the games. From childhood memories to ruthless survival, this is the story of how a devoted older brother became the masked main overseer of the games.

pairing: Hwang In-ho & Hwang Jun-ho, Hwang In-ho/In-ho's wife

tags: family dynamics, good sibling Hwang In-ho, mention of sickness, weight loss due to sickness, kidney disease, surgical scars, medical debt, acute cirrhosis, pregnancy, mentions of termination, squid game typical violence, character death

tags will be updated

“The role of ‘older brother’ blurred into something bigger, heavier, he wasn’t just a brother anymore. He was something else. Something more.”

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Part 1: In-ho meeting his baby brother

Part 2: In-ho and his stepmother

Part 3: Jun-ho's first steps

Part 4: In-ho becoming a police officer

Part 5: In-ho meeting his wife

Part 5.1: February 14th, normal day, right?

Part 5.2: White Day

Part 5.3: Jun-ho, Yuna, and the vegetables

Part 6: Jun-ho wants to become a police detective like his brother

Part 7: Jun-ho thinks about the true meaning of ‘hyung’

Part 8: Something is wrong with Jun-ho

Part 9: The kidney disease

Part 10: In-ho and Jun-ho share a scar

Part 11: In-ho shoulders a lot of responsibility

Part 12: In-ho and Jun-ho working together at the same precinct

“Debt didn’t care. It didn’t care that he had spent his entire life protecting his family. It didn’t care that he had given up a part of himself to save them. Debt didn’t care why it existed. It only cared that it did.”

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Part 13: a cruel déjà-vu

Part 14: In-ho can't be the solution

Part 15: In-ho doesn't leave his wife's side

Part 16: In-ho can't hide the truth from his wife

Part 17: In-ho was never a gambler

Part 18: They have to make a decision

Part 19: Midnight calls, morning fears

Part 20: In-ho borrows money

Part 21: In-ho tries to keep the secret

Part 22: Jun-ho blames himself

“The moment came when the rules changed, when they were no longer playing against the system, but against each other. It was either him or someone else.”

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Part 23: In-ho plays a childhood game

Part 24: In-ho calls the number...

Part 25: Red Light, Green Light

Part 26: Biseokchigi

Part 27: Forming an alliance, a team

Part 28: Names they shouldn't say

Part 29: Tuho

Part 30: Jun-ho realizes that something is wrong

Part 31: Breaking the news

Part 32: In-ho lets Young-il ramble

Part 33: Zero One

Part 34: Shifting tides

Part 35: Lights out

Part 36: In-ho notices the rules changing

Part 37: They have to pick a partner

Part 38: Sabangchigi

Part 39: In-ho has nightmares

next part coming soon

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

English is not my first language!

I wanted to organize the scenes chronologically cause I might write and post them very randomly. I'm sorry in advance! So far, I am following a red thread, but you never know...

#what remains hwang brothers #hwang bros #hwang siblings #hwang brothers #hwang inho #hwang junho #inho and junho #hwang in ho #hwang jun ho #squid game #squid game spoilers #squid game fanfic #front man #squid game front man #sibling bonding #siblings #masterlist

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whatdoseitmeantobehuman · 3 months ago

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Bad timing

ISO x female reader

Your first attempt at intimacy that morning was interrupted by your own startled yelp when Iso seemed to materialize beside you in the kitchen. Even after all this time, his silent movements—a remnant of his assassin days—still caught you off guard. "You need to wear a bell," you muttered, but leaned into his touch as he pressed you against the counter, one earbud dangling loose as he closed the distance. The kiss had barely begun when footsteps echoed down the hall. Iso pulled back instantly, combat instincts making him hyper-aware of approaching personnel.

Seconds later, Raze bounded in, completely oblivious to what she'd interrupted. Later, you found him in the training range, one earbud in as always, his movements precise and lethal as he practiced with his barrier. The way he moved was mesmerizing—each step calculated, each action purposeful. When he finally noticed you watching, his usual focused expression softened slightly.

This time, you made it as far as his jacket hitting the floor before Brimstone's voice crackled over the intercom about an urgent briefing. Iso's jaw tightened. "Always something," he murmured, already reaching for his discarded jacket. The professional mask slipped back into place, though you caught the lingering frustration in his eyes. The afternoon found you in his quarters, music playing softly from his speakers—something with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat under your palms.

His kisses were focused, deliberate, like everything else he did. Then KAY/O needed backup for a security sweep. "Your timing," Iso said flatly to the robot, "is impeccable." Evening brought another attempt, this time in a supposedly empty section of the compound. Iso had actually scouted the area first—old habits die hard—and deemed it clear. His hands were just sliding under your shirt when— "Oh! Uh, sorry, wrong turn!" Jett's hasty retreat was followed by Iso's barely audible Chinese curse.

"I once eliminated an entire security team without being detected," he muttered against your neck, "but apparently finding privacy here is impossible." You couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe we need a better strategy." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Perhaps." The solution, when it finally came, was characteristically Iso. He'd chosen his moment carefully, waiting until most agents were deployed on various missions. His barrier ability ensured absolute privacy, and he'd even set up a selective sound system that would mask any noise while still allowing him to hear potential threats—ever the professional, even in intimate moments.

"You really planned this out," you teased as he finally, finally got you alone. "Efficiency is important," he replied, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. One earbud still hung from his collar, soft music barely audible. "And I don't like being interrupted." "Is that why you scouted the entire floor first?" "Old habits." His hands slid to your waist. "Useful ones, though." This time, when he kissed you, there were no interruptions. Just the steady rhythm of his chosen soundtrack, the warmth of his hands, and the rare, complete focus of a man who usually had to stay alert for threats now entirely devoted to you. Worth the wait, you decided, as his music drowned out everything else.

#fanfic #valorant fanfiction #valorant fanfic #valorant x reader #video game #iso valorant #iso x reader #iso

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mylovelies-docx · 2 years ago

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Love Bites (But So Do I)

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ALL MY SPOOKY, HORNY BITCHES 🎃

I'm finally participating in Kinktober, but it's literally the last day and it's whatever the fuck I wanted to write.

Pairing: Innocent!Vampire!Reader x Werewolf!Bucky

Plot: Reader is suffering from hunger pangs due to national blood shortage. Bucky offers a solution.

C/W: 18+ MDNI!!! (I am so for serious). Loss of virginity, age gap (Reader is late 20's), what’s the name for blood drinking?, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, slight dom/sub, knotting, cock-warming, fluff, resolution of mutual pining.

Vampirism is cool and all, but it also fucking sucks sometimes.

Like during a national blood shortage.

You’d been turned only a couple of years ago around the time of your 25th birthday. You can’t quite recall what happened, as everything around the event is distorted in your memories. All you know is that you were on a mission with some of the other Avengers one second, and then the next you were lying in the med bay with an intense craving for blood.

Everyone was surprisingly accepting of your new ‘condition’, with the exception of one person.

Bucky.

Bucky wasn’t on the mission where you were turned into a vampire, so he had no idea what he was walking in on when he stopped by to visit you in the med bay. You distinctly remember the look of worry and confusion on his face when he peered through the window and saw you strapped down onto the bed. You’d given him a forced, awkward smile and turned your head away, not able to look him in the eye.

You heard the door to your room click open and Bucky began to call your name, but then he inhaled sharply, unable to finish his question. You turned your head slightly and peeked back at him. You could tell immediately that Bucky’s werewolf senses had picked up on the change in your DNA, his instincts telling him that you were now his enemy.

You leaned your head back against the bed and closed your eyes, devastated that Bucky hated you before you could even have a proper conversation with him. You’d been on the team for a few months at that point, only really developing surface level friendships with everyone. They were all welcoming enough, but your anxieties prevented you from letting anyone in.

With your eyes closed, your other senses were able to accommodate for the loss of sight. The gust of wind from Bucky opening the door rushed up your nose, and a heady, intoxicating scent lit up your brain. Your eyes popped open and you stared at Bucky, noticing his heavy breathing and his pulse pounding against the arteries in his neck. Your mouth watered at the smell of him, divine and irresistible in a way that no one else had been up to that point.

A choked keening had erupted from your throat, your wrists and ankles straining against the bonds holding you down. You twisted and pulled, trying to break free and make a run for Bucky, but he’d immediately sensed your desire to drink his blood. A shutter fell into place over Bucky’s face, masking any expression that might have been there. He sucked in one final deep breath and slammed the door to your room, storming down the hallway and away from you.

As soon as you could no longer detect Bucky’s scent in the air, your mind cleared somewhat and you were able to realize just how out of control you had acted and how embarrassed you were at your actions. But you were also unable to stop imagining running after him and sinking your teeth deep into the flesh of his throat.

Slamming your head a few times onto the bed underneath you, you cursed yourself. Bucky barely even liked you before, but now he probably despised you – not just for what you were, but for how you acted, as well. You’d gotten off on the wrong foot with him to start, but then you’d stumbled hard and crossed a line by almost ripping your arms to pieces in order to get to him.

You’d never been able to look people in the face or hold eye contact for very long, but it’s especially true when it comes to Bucky. You’re not exactly sure why it is that your heart races and butterflies fill your stomach, but the feelings bubble up and prevent you from speaking and make you uncomfortable in your own skin. This happens every time you meet someone new or are with people you don’t really know, but the sensations that flood your body when Bucky is around are 100x worse than anything you’d felt for anyone before.

You’d realized in that hospital bed that whatever you’d felt for Bucky prior to becoming a vampire had changed, had become almost unbearable. His scent never left your thoughts and your mind always drifted off to think about Bucky: what he was doing, where he was, who he was with. Your eyes would darken and turn red, fangs lengthening when you imagined him with anyone other than you.

It’d taken you weeks to recover your sanity completely. You’d drained bag after bag after bag of blood, never feeling completely satiated, but unable to find out why. Some members of the team visited in those weeks to determine if you were safe to be around, and although the aroma of their blood wafted through the air and surrounded you, you never reacted to any of them the way you had to Bucky that first day. Dr. Cho had decided that you were no longer a threat after your successes, so she’d allowed you out of your restraints. You were finally able to walk the halls again and explore the compound.

Though the sunlight wouldn’t kill you (discovered during Dr. Cho’s studies), your skin would prickle and start to burn after prolonged exposure, so you tended to avoid the daylight. You’d wander the halls after everyone had turned in for the night, lamenting the fact that you could really only spend the evenings with them all before they needed to sleep.

You’d catch whiffs of Bucky as you stalked the night, your pulse racing and endorphins fizzing through your veins, but he never appeared. Bucky kept his distance from you for nearly a full year after you’d nearly attacked him. You couldn’t blame him. He’d been tortured enough in his life, he didn’t need the added stress of you trying to suck him dry every time he entered the same room as you.

It took some time, but you were finally able to cohabitate the same spaces with him again. Even though your mouth watered and your hands longed to reach out and grab him, you refrained. You kept yourself distant in order to make him more comfortable with your presence even though nature meant for your two species to hate each other.

You understood why Bucky had such a vehement reaction when he smelled you for the first time after your transition; walking the streets of New York, you’d catch of whiff of wet dog and dirty sock, immediately identifying werewolves as they prowled the streets, their stench clinging to your nostrils and turning your stomach. You’d grimace and walk away as fast as you could in search of clean air not polluted with the presence of werewolves. If grody socks and dirty mongrel was what you perceived werewolves to smell like, you can’t imagine what Bucky must smell emanating from you.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that you’d never found Bucky’s scent displeasing: in fact, the fresh, pine scent drove you crazy and had your body begging to be near him despite knowing that he’s a werewolf. You feel insatiable whenever he’s around, needing to consume blood soon after in order to calm the raging hunger within you.

Your mouth waters at the thought of the hot liquid filling your mouth and sliding down your throat, warming your insides and sending shivers all the way down to your toes. It’d been nearly a full day since you’d last tasted the savory red substance.

A nation-wide disaster the Avengers had handled yesterday required the hospitals to use up most of their stores of blood, leaving you feeling guilty for even thinking about taking the life-saving liquid for your own benefit. All the Avengers were out celebrating a job well-done and the prevention of more death and destruction that would have occurred had you all not been there to help.

The fight yesterday had taken everything out of you, and you were unable to drag yourself from the couch where you had collapsed earlier in the day. Your head is spinning and your muscles are weak from the lack of blood in your system. Some of the others had offered you their blood to help you feel better, but you’d declined and told them to go out and donate it to one of the blood banks that were in desperate need.

You’d never drank directly from a person in the years since you’d become a vampire, choosing instead to avoid the intimacy that must come along with the action. Holding someone’s wrist in your hands as you clamp down on their radial artery, nuzzling your face into the crook of their neck and sucking a mark around the two perfect puncture holes from your fangs – it just felt overwhelming.

And besides, the only person you could even imagine suckling from was Bucky and he’d never offer you his blood, regardless of whether it was in a bag or straight from the source.

You groan as your stomach contracts in on itself, the emptiness feeling as if there’s a black hole inside of you and you’re going to be consumed from the inside out. You feel foolish for turning your friends’ offers away, but there’s no way you’d have kept them from enjoying themselves after everything they went through yesterday. You can only hope that Dr. Cho is able to procure something for you in the morning or else create some alternative to the human blood that sustains your life force.

You’re curled in the fetal position on the couch, clutching your stomach and trying to think of anything else besides this nauseating hunger you feel. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut and your face scrunches in agony. You moan once more, unable to hold it in.

All of a sudden, your senses detect the presence of another person in the compound – a door in the residential wing swishing open and the pad, pad, pad of socked feet walking towards you. The sweet, fresh smell of a pine forest after a spring shower wraps around you, easing the pain enough for you to open your eyes and witness Bucky walk into the living room and find you lying there. His face contorts momentarily, but then smooths back out.

“Y/N?” he questions. You whine at the timbre of his voice, the rich sound penetrating your eardrums and burrowing into your veins. “What’s wrong?”

You wince as another hunger pang claws through your gut. “I’m –” you whisper hoarsely. “I’m hungry. So hungry.”

“Hungry?” he asks. “What about the blood you keep in stock?” Bucky walks over to the hospital-grade equipment in the kitchen behind you, looking for a blood bag you know isn’t there. You hear him open and close the door, quickly ascertaining that there is nothing to be found within. Bucky quickly walks back over to you and crouches a few feet from the couch. “Where did it all go?”

A red-tinted tear falls from your lower lashes, leaving a pink streak along your cheek. “The… the civilians,” you murmur quietly. Even with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he has to lean closer to hear what you say. “They n-needed it more th-than me.”

“Shit,” Bucky mutters under his breath. A determined look comes over his face as he rolls up his sleeve. He holds his wrist in front of your mouth and barks out a command. “Drink.”

You barely find the strength to shake your head at him in refusal. “No,” you whine. “I’ve never… I can’t…”

“Yes,” he growls, “you can. And you will.” Bucky stretches his mouth wide and rolls his head on his neck, transforming his normal human teeth into the incisors of a wolf. He bites down onto the center of his wrist, tearing open his vein and shoving it back in your face. “Drink.”

Your bloodlust overtakes you at that moment. The warm, coppery blood seeps down his wrist and beads onto the sofa beside your head. Your hands move of their own accord, your mind fighting a losing battle with your instincts. You grasp Bucky’s wrist and wrap your parched lips around the gaping wound. You lick and suck where Bucky’s teeth had torn apart his own flesh. At the taste of Bucky’s blood hitting your tongue after years of craving it, a pleasured whimper crawls up your throat and forces its way between your parted lips against his flesh.

Buck’s metal arm reaches around and cups the back of your head, holding you in place as you continue to feed from him. “That’s right, doll,” he says. “Take as much as you need.” You feel the cold pressure of his hand as he strokes your hair away from your face. “Fuck. Been waiting for this. For you.”

The words send a shiver through you and you would have happily stayed right where you were for the rest of eternity, but the mouthfuls of blood have quickly turned into a trickle. You whine at the realization, running your tongue over Bucky’s wrist to confirm that his wound is healing too rapidly for you to continue drinking. You cry and raise your eyes up to Bucky’s, tasting his blood that had dribbled down your chin as you lick your lips.

“It’s –” you try. “You’re not…”

Bucky curses once again. “I heal too fast and the vein is too small for the amount of blood you need.”

He takes a hair tie from his pocket and quickly runs his fingers through his hair, gathering it all into a bun at the back of his head. Bucky rises swiftly and picks your body up into his arms. He cradles you against his chest as he settles quickly on the couch and places you in his lap. He circles one arm around your back to hold you upright and uses his other to guide your mouth to his throat.

“Bite,” he commands.

You whimper at the authority in his voice, but shake your head. “I’m okay,” you plead. “I – I don’t know how –”

“It’s instinct,” he replies harshly. “You do know how.” He takes your head and pushes your face further into his neck. “Bite me. Now, Y/N!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you cry, resting your forehead against his skin and struggling to maintain the hold you have on your sanity when Bucky’s pulse is thrumming just under his skin. It’s right there. So close you can hear the blood as it rushes through his veins. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Bucky and his scent is beginning to drive you insane. You pant heavily against his throat, exhausting yourself from the effort of holding back.

Bucky releases a sigh and a sliver of tension leaves his muscles. The hand against your back strokes up and down, settling your body as it shivers against his.

“You won’t hurt me,” he says. “If I use my claws, the cut will be too big and I'll bleed too fast. Your teeth are so small, I won’t even feel them,” he soothes.

You hesitate for a moment before saying, “... you promise?”

“I promise, baby,” he hums.

The softness of his words is all it takes to tear down your defenses. You suck in a breath and bare your fangs. They sink into the skin right above his jugular and you feel the slight pop as you pierce its wall. Blood gushes into your mouth and you feel something inside you pop open just like Bucky’s vein.

All of the sudden, you become acutely aware of everything Bucky.

The rhythm of his heart as it pumps blood through his body and into yours, his breaths as they leave his mouth, the sounds he makes as you suckle at his neck – as if he’s enjoying every second of having your lips at his throat and sucking the blood as it floods into your mouth in time to the pulse of his heart. You can feel your own heart race to match his, beat for beat.

You moan at the sensation and pull harder against Bucky’s neck. Needing to be closer, you swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, hooking one arm around his shoulder and the other around the back of his head. You feel Bucky’s hands grasp your hips as he holds you tight to his body.

Involuntarily you roll your hips against him, rubbing your covered core over the bulge in his jeans. The action elicits a groan from Bucky and the contact sends an electric current through your body, forcing your hips to seek more friction. You continue to grind against Bucky’s crotch, your panties becoming soaked and leaking through your shorts and onto his jeans.

You continue to draw from Bucky’s neck as he begins to thrust against you in response to your motions. You moan at the extra pressure against your mound and work harder to match his rhythm.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Bucky groans. “Using me so well to work that sweet little clit.” You whimper against his neck and brace one arm on the back of the couch, gaining leverage and moving your hips faster against him. “You gonna cum like this, darlin’?” He pants into your ear. “Gonna cum when I haven’t even touched you yet?”

At his words, you release your fangs from his throat and take big, heaving breaths. You pull away and stare down into Bucky’s eyes, his pupils dilated and staring deep into your own. You lean down quickly, capturing his lips with your own like you’ve dreamed of doing for so long. Bucky returns the kiss feverishly, working his tongue between your lips and delving into your mouth. You continue to grind yourself against Bucky until you’re nearly delirious with lust and feel a tight knot forming between your legs.

Bucky’s fingers snake between your bodies and pull the fabric of your shorts and panties aside so that he can run his fingers along your soaking slit.

“What a good girl,” he growls. “Already so wet for me.”

He nudges one finger at your entrance and you keen at the pressure of his thick finger trying to enter you. You huff against his mouth, trying to relax and allow his finger entry.

“’s okay, sweetheart,” he breathes against your throat as he trails wet kisses from your lips down to your shoulders. “’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You nod your head feverishly and lean backwards, changing the angle of your hips so that his finger has more access. It slips inside and your pussy clenches hard around it, not used to anything filling you so full. You cry out in pleasure as he crooks his finger against your walls with what little room he has.

“Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he huffs. “Have you not done this before?” Bucky questions you, using his free hand to pull your face back towards his so that he can kiss you once before letting you respond.

You shake your head no and cry out again as he withdraws his finger and plunges it back into you. He continues to massage your walls while he pulls his finger in and out, in and out.

“Then is this okay, baby? Do you like this?”

“Yes! Yes, Bucky! I – I love this.”

He sucks your bottom lips between his teeth and holds it there for a second before letting go. “Let me see how much you love it, Y/N. Come on, cum for me.”

“Uh, ah, I’ve never –” you half confess before stopping yourself by biting your lip and throwing your head backwards.

“You tellin’ me you’ve never let yourself orgasm, pretty girl?” he asks you. “What a tragedy,” he growls against your neck, finger still working between your legs as he slowly tries to fit another one inside you.

“Unh,” you whine in time with his finger thrusts, feeling the stretch of your hole as the slick from your core coats his hand and allows his second finger entry. You gasp at the sensation of his two thick fingers inside of you and the heel of his hand against your clit. The knot in your stomach feels as if it’s stretching as tight as it can go, pulling and straining to be undone. You work your hips in time with Bucky’s hand, trying to get him deeper inside you where your body screams for more.

“But don’t worry,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll take care of that right now.”

Bucky’s other hand comes up and pinches your erect nippled through your shirt. The sharp sizzle of pain morphs into pleasure as he surges through your nerves and rips the knot in your core apart. Your hips freeze and your knees lock tight against Bucky’s hips, every muscle in your abdomen clenching and your walls bearing down on Bucky’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathes. “Look at you cumming all over my hand.” His words send another blade of pleasure to your core and you squeeze his fingers tighter. “You like when I talk to you, baby?” Bucky asks. “You like when I tell you you’re a good girl?” Bucky chuckles at the realization that his words cause your pussy to work his fingers harder.

“Does my sweet, pretty girl want to cum on my cock?” He wonders, tracing a finger down the side of your face and then slipping it into your mouth. You instinctively suck on his digit, lathing your tongue around the tip. Bucky sucks in a sharp breath when you nip at his finger with one of your fangs.

“Dirty girl,” he teases as he takes his finger from your mouth. He grabs your chin and looks into your eyes again. “Will you let me fuck that tight little pussy of yours?”

You moan and nod your head. “Yes! Yes, Bucky – please!” you cry out.

With a wolfish grin, Bucky grabs the back of your thighs and holds you up as he carries you out of the living room and towards his bedroom. You notice two little pinpricks of blood where your fangs had been earlier, the skin already healing over. You lower your mouth back to Bucky’s throat and lick his skin clean. Bucky bounces you in his arms and kisses your lips forcefully as he finally arrives at his room.

He crawls with you up the bed until your head is nestled on his pillows and his body covers yours completely. The warmth of him encompasses you and his scent surrounds you where it pours from his sheets and clothing scattered around the room. Bucky’s bedroom smells just like him, like being sheltered by a grove of pine trees as the sun rises in the sky after a long, dark night.

Bucky slides his hands under your shirt and pushes it up your chest, kissing your breasts as they’re exposed. You hum at the warm, wet kisses he places on your nipples before he pulls the shirt over your head and up your arms. Next, he kisses your lips and slowly makes his way down your body, leaving a trail of warmth in the wake of his lips as he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

His fingers curl around the elastic and tug them down, down, down, your legs. Bucky sits back on his haunches, your shorts and panties dangling from the end of his fingers. You reach to cover yourself with your hands, never having had anyone look at your naked body before.

His glacier blue eyes lock onto yours and freeze you in place. Bucky shakes his head once, telling you to stop hiding yourself from him. You slowly pull your hands away, not exactly sure what to do with them now that they don’t have a purpose.

Bucky hums in content at seeing your naked body lying on his bed, wet and ready for him. He slides backwards off the bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. Your face heats as he whips his shirt over his head, exposing his solid chest and torso. He reaches for the button of his jeans and slowly undoes the fastenings. He watches your eyes widen when his cock springs free, finally relieved of its confinement.

You can’t take your eyes away from Bucky’s dick as it stands at attention, the pink tip weeping liquid. You quickly glance up at Bucky’s face, and see amusement flicker in his eyes.

“I don’t th-think…” you stammer.

“Oh,” Bucky rumbles. “It’ll fit.”

Bucky positions himself on top of your body again, pulling your legs apart so that he can nestle his hips between yours. You feel as his warm, hard length rests between your lower lips and up onto your mound. He’s so big that you could wrap both hands around him and there would still be leftovers. You swallow hard and look up into Bucky’s eyes as he hovers over you.

“Are you sure?”

He leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips. “I’m sure.”

Bucky guides his tip to your entrance, coating the head with your juices. He slides it up and down your slit, notching it against your clit and sending shocks to your core. You slowly bring your knees up and wrap your feet around the small of Bucky’s back, reaching your hands to grab onto Bucky’s metal wrist where he has it placed above your head. You look into his eyes as a smile graces his lips.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your body shivers at the compliment and you smile shyly back at him. Bucky takes the head of his cock and slowly notches it into you, pausing at your gasp of air. “Relax, doll,” he says as he leans down to kiss you. You melt into the kiss, allowing your legs to relax slightly and your walls to open enough for Bucky to slide in a couple of inches.

His cock is thicker and longer than his fingers and your body is unsure what to do with so much of it inside you. You whine against Bucky’s lips, the stretch and pressure unfamiliar.

“It’s okay, baby; you can take me.”

You nod and consciously relax your pelvic floor, imaging the muscles loosening up and allowing Bucky inside. You can feel the effects immediately, Bucky’s hips closing the gap and the tip of his cock lodging deep inside you, the notched head putting pressure against a point inside you that forces all the air to leave your lungs. You suck in a sharp breath as Bucky fully sheaths himself inside you, barely believing that his entire length rests within your walls.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky commends your efforts. “Told you you could do it.”

You smile at him earnestly, proud of yourself for taking all of him inside of you at once. He brings his flesh hand up to your face and pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I’m gonna move now, okay? You ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Your heart pounds in your chest as Bucky slowly slides from you until he’s almost completely out. Then, in one smooth motion, he presses back inside, the head rubbing against the spot that made you lose your breath when he entered the first time. You stare into each other’s eyes as Bucky continues to rock into you, his hips meeting yours with every press forward.

You can’t help but sigh at the sweet pleasure that builds from Bucky’s measured pace. You unwind one hand from Bucky’s metal wrist and reach for his face, closing your eyes and capturing his lips in an ardent kiss. The feeling of him moving inside you is nice, the coil from earlier returning to its place inside your core.

You cry out suddenly when Bucky’s next thrust enters you with more force than his previous ones. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, seeing the heat of your cheeks spread down your neck. He smirks and slams into you again, harder. Your eyes widen and your breath rushes out with the thrusts, your walls constricting around him with the repeated motion.

“You like that?” he questions, thrusting hard into you again. You gasp when he picks up speed and force, slamming into you over and over again. “I said: do you like that? Answer me.”

“Uh”-thrust-“huh”-thrust- you answer, your affirmation being knocked out of you as Bucky slams into your core. The rapid, harsh thrusts have the ridges and veins of Bucky’s cock sliding against your walls, and you can feel every single one of them tightening the coil inside of you until it is stretched tight once again. Bucky continues to thrust, taking you higher and higher and higher until there’s no room left inside of you that your emotions seep from your eyes, your pink-tinged tears from pleasure rather than pain this time.

You gasp for breath repeatedly, listening to the wet sounds of Bucky thrusting in and out of you, the moans and muttered praises falling from his lips.

“So good for me.”

“You take me so well.”

“Look at you, crying over my cock because it’s making a mess of your sweet little cunt.”

The praise sends you soaring, you can’t help but whimper and sob into Bucky’s mouth as he keeps his face close to yours, making sure that you like everything he does to your body, monitoring your cries of pleasure to make sure he’s doing the best he can.

The coil begins to fray and snap. You begin to tense up, the sensations becoming too much.

“I think,” you moan, “I’m gonna…!”

Before your body completely lets go, you feel Bucky snarl into your neck and bite down hard with his incisors. You feel a flood of endorphins rush from Bucky’s mouth and travel through your body, pooling in your core and lighting the coil on fire. You cum hard on Bucky’s cock, liquid gushing from you. Your mind goes completely blank as your body shudders and shakes against Bucky’s, your pussy sucking him in as if it will never let him go. Buck retracts his teeth from the mark on your neck, licking his tongue over the puncture wounds.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby girl. Look what I did to you – no one else will ever make you squirt like I do. No one will ever touch you. You’re mine, baby. No one else’s. I’m never letting you go.”

You stare down in enraptured surprise as you feel Bucky’s cock suddenly swelling inside you, locking him in place. He’s buried to the hilt and you feel a bulging just inside your entrance, preventing him from thrusting any more. Bucky groans loudly in your ear and you feel warmth and extra pressure against your walls, filling you to the brim with Bucky’s cum.

Bucky leans down and nuzzles into your neck, placing tired kisses against where he’d bitten you. “Mine,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine,” he commands.

Your eyes drift closed as the after effects of your orgasms and Bucky’s mark leave you breathless and blissed out. “Yours,” you murmur. “Always.”

Bucky flips you both over, his knot keeping you firmly locked together, unable to separate even if you wanted to (which you don’t). He lays you gently on his chest and holds your face in both of his hands. He wants you to look at him, but your eyes are so heavy that you can barely lift them.

You hear Bucky’s low voice as you drift off to sleep, but the words don’t make any sense.

“My mate.”

***

Your eyes snap open at the feel of soft lips against your forehead, then your nose, then eyelids and cheeks, and finally against your own lips.

You pull away immediately, hands covering your mouth in absolute horror. The previous night comes rushing back to you when you sense the heaviness of a mark on your neck and the aching pulse between your legs. Bucky looks up from where he lays beneath you, his expression turning puzzled and then quickly alarmed at your words.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to. I can’t believe –” you gasp out, placing your hands over your entire face and scrambling away in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I told you. I’ve never done that before, I didn’t know that would happen. I – I must have hypnotized you or something!” you cry out. “I didn’t know that was something I could do! I'm so sorry. I never should have –”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he calls, rushing to sit up and pull your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up until you’re looking at him. There’s a tender look on his face that you’ve never seen before, as if he’s dropped all of his walls with you. Your heart shatters at the realization that you’ve made him do things he never wanted to.

His eyes soften, almost as if he could understand your thoughts just by looking into your eyes. He tries to get you to calm down, to regulate your breathing by taking in deep breaths of his own, but you’re too full of anxiety and self-loathing for it to work.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “We didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“How is that possible?” you sob helplessly, trying your best to divert your gaze from his. “You don’t even like me. You’ve never liked me and especially not after I became a vampire. I mean, you’re a werewolf! You hate me. You couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as me for a year.”

“Shhh,” Bucky soothes. “When did I ever say I hated you?”

Your brows furrow in confusion, your breaths continuing to heave in and out of your chest, but your heart somehow calms of its own accord. You feel its beat echoing around you and you realize that Bucky’s heartbeat is working to calm yours, his eyes peering into your own while his hands rub up and down your arms in a soothing motion. “I – we’re enemies,” you say quietly. “Vampires and werewolves have always hated each other.”

“Do you hate me?” he questions, turning your face so that you’re looking at him once again.

You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head softly. “No.”

“And I don’t hate you,” he states, raising a hand and softly stroking your hair.

“But you…?” You try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying. “You can’t stand me. You avoided me after – after I…”

“Because I didn’t want to scare you,” Bucky murmurs. “I knew that if I was around you, I would do something I would regret.”

“...like kill me?” you wonder.

Bucky’s lip quirk into a small smile and he chuckles at your question. “No, Y/N. Not kill you.”

“Then what…?”

“After you were turned,” Bucky begins. He pulls his hand from you and clasps your hands within his, gently stroking your skin with his thumbs. You watch, entranced, as his fingers move over your skin. “I realized something as soon as I walked into your room in the med bay and scented you for the first time.” He tugs on your hands until you look up into his face. He smiles softly down at you with a look of pure adoration and love. “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

You stare at him in confusion. There’s no way – that’s not possible. “How… How is that possible? Are you sure I didn’t hypnotize you into thinking that?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. “You didn’t hypnotize me – that’s not real, and you know it.” He moves one hand to your throat, where he caresses his bite mark on your skin with his thumb. “I don’t know how it happened or why the universe saw fit to bind us together, but it did.” Bucky bends his head and smiles ruefully at you as he continues. “I knew you were going to be special to me the first time we ever met, but you were so quiet and you avoided me like the plague, so I thought you were afraid of me.”

You feel the anguish coming from Bucky as he thinks back on how you treated him these last couple of years. How your inability to meet his eyes or hold a conversation with him led him to believe that you were frightened to be near him, frightened of him.

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on your folded arms. You glance away and say softly, “I’m… I’m not good with people. Sometimes it’s okay, but others… it’s like I forget how to talk to people.” You flicker your eyes to his quickly, but look away just as fast. You raise your fingers to your lips and rub back and forth, a nervous habit you’ve had for years. “If…if I… like someone. It makes it worse.”

“And that’s why you wouldn’t talk to me?” Bucky questions, pulling your hand from your mouth and placing a kiss on the center of your palm.Your face flushes and a small smile flits to your face. You nod your head while looking down at your knees.

“Well,” he says, “I like you,too.” You raise your eyes to see a smile lighting up his face and brightening his eyes. “I always have.”

“You do?” you ask, checking to be sure that Bucky isn’t just saying these things because you slept together after feeding from him. “It’s not because of what I did last night?”

“No, sugar,” he replies. “I’ve wanted to be with you this whole time.” You watch his eyes scan your face, watching your reactions and feeling your emotions through your new bond. “Do you want to be with me? I wasn’t going to mark you without asking first, but my instincts wouldn’t allow you to be so close without claiming you.”

You shyly pull your hair over your shoulder where Bucky’s mark resides. You worry a strand between your hands and look up into his eyes. “I… I like it,” you confess, feeling your heart beat faster in your chest at your bold words.

“Good,” Bucky states. He leans into you and brushes your hair back away from your shoulder, exposing your mark and placing a tender peck against the raised edges. “Because you’re mine.”

You nod and tilt your head to the side, allowing Bucky to trail his lips up and down your throat before he makes his way to your lips. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting with yours. You hum and unfurl your body, climbing into his lap as his hands guide you into straddling his waist.

“I’m yours,” you agree.

“And I’m yours,” he echoes.

________________________________________

So I didn't have time to make the part 2 I was thinking about for this, but it was never a direct continuation anyway.

Hope you enjoyed! 🎃

#kinktober #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #smut #bucky barnes fic

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ghosthoard · 5 months ago

Text

grief of reunion recap!

you guys are so fucking funny thank you so much for your tags

as always i want to show how much i appreciate your tags and comments but i didn't know how without reblogging every single person and that might be excessive so this is my solution!

first of all thank you for the people who reblogged all three and left tags it's so cool seeing which ones you saw first and the comments as you went

this is going to be a bit long since i want to include everybody in some way and also what my thoughts were as i drew this series!

enjoy!

"you'll see me again"

mizaruwu said it so well! "you'll see me again" is a sweet white lie!!!

in combination with dustmold nailing it on the money!

i was really careful with how i phrased this sweet white lie

it's not: "we'll see each other again" or "I'll see you again"

For Wild, Wars, Time, and Twilight as far as they know they will never see the one they're saying farewell to ever again. so they say farewell knowing this will be the last time they see their loved one, but they're offering them a sort of comfort that the receiver of these words will see them again, it's something they would kill for personally, they think it's a gift, a comfort

but it's never so simple. because they aren't really being reunited properly are they?

THE FLOW OF TIME TRAVEL IS VERY CRUEL!!!!

NONE OF THESE PAIRS/TRIOS FULLY KNOW EACH OTHER AT THE SAME TIME, BUT THEY TRY THEIR BEST WITH WHAT THEY HAVE, IT SUFFERING!

perry's 3 reblog journey

perry i want you to know how much i love the faces you added at the end it gave me such a clear vision of your reactions

I LOVE HOW I DREW YOUNG TWI HE'S SO TINY HE'S SO BABY THANK YOU FOR MENTIONING IT PERRY

i like to imagine that time bonks him on the head right after this interaction and doesn't explain why

the WAR TRIO FUCKS ME UP

they can never be whole!!!

war trio

elle at it again with the amazing comments!!!

elle is right! as i was drawing wars I was thinking about how to convey that he was trying to hold it together and show the others that everybody leaving wasn't tearing him apart. he especially had to show a strong front for wind. as discussed above, elle said it perfectly, wars knows this is it for him! he'll never see his brothers again, and he it would hurt too much to hope for another chance like meeting the chain.

elle also brings up an interesting point of how wind can say the same thing to the pair of them during the war, i was thinking about that myself while i was working on this series and IT WOULD HURT SO MUCH, THE CYCLE OF SAYING FAREWELL, OF THE SWEET WHITE LIE.

but i always flip flopped on if wind would.

what do you guys think? do you think wind, twilight, or time would say something similar to their counterparts like they did to them?

mask is full on alert, he can detect danger right away, the moment they found wind he was on defensive mode, resource guarding wars

and isn't that just painfully loving, painfully sweet

what's that quote?

we are all made up of bits and pieces of those we love. (or something similar)

big brown devastating eyes

my friend suggested I draw the eyes with color! everybody say thank you spooks's Zelda Authority friend

a moment of silence for the wind stans

chiangyorange's 3 reblog journey

i'm glad i could do this to you :)

Wolf Trio

mizaruwu is so correct yet again!

while i was drawing these, i thought about how all of the wolf trio ended up saying the white lie to someone. wild is the only one who doesn’t really have the experience of teaching a protege. time and twilight however are both the liar and the lied to.

voidsshadow is so right! twi especially knows what wild is implying because he’s lived through it with time. twi and time have both been through so much and they still have things to do after death but they wouldn’t trade this time with their protege for anything no matter how imperfect the reunion is

they both must have known what their protege meant and they were prepared for it. but no amount of preparation can soften the blow.

however, they’ve both lived a long time before going back to teach their protege, their age makes the white lie more bitter and they’re more tired

wind in the meantime, had no prior time travel experience with another link, he had no preparation, he took the white lie at face value, he’s still young when he joins the war of eras, and when the reunion actually happens and he realizes his brothers don’t know him anymore, he was all the more devastated for it

cherry's 3 reblog journey

i claim all responsibility, i'm the cause, i'm the problem

violetregrets's 3 reblog journey

i love the clear descending into emotions this conveys, art in itself

(from the bottom up in these types of screenshots!)

thanks violet XD

let's have a moment for all of the ouchies, oofs, and aughs

and of course the screaming

and crying

these allegations! >:O all true :3

and lastly

this cracked me up. honestly same, fuck me up

Additional edit: I made it so that all of the lines under each post would apply to every one of them.

Your eyes do not know me as they once did.

Here I am, still missing you.

Alone, with the grief of reunion.

I had a hard time deciding not to put the last one for wind but I thought the 2nd one made more sense for him and the last one more sense for time. But again they all apply to every one. isnt that fun!

@mizaruwu @dustmold-n-dirtarchaeology @perereiii @perryelornitorrinco @elle-rosewater @1-renegade @rosescore245 @rosadon3 @the-au-collector @crazylittlejester @stqrmyskies @shadowlinktheshadow @chiangyorange @thevoidsshadow @givemeafuckingbreakorurgay @violetregrets1837 @tiredkiwilol @esthelle-wanders @telemna-hyelle @pelicanpig @layraket @i-dont-r3member @embarrassedauthornerd @multifr0g @turdofanerd @puffysleeveswithfloralpatterns @starwolfie @zolanort @cheatsylu @dragkbluire @thebackofourmind8 @jack-ofallfandoms @bbinkus11 @ahanarhorse @hero-of-the-wolf @triforce-of-mischief @twilightangel83 @clancycosmic @abir-111 @just-another-product-of-today

#linkeduniversefandom #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #spookspeaks #grief of reunion

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snivyartjpeg · 1 year ago

Text

Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap

god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):

i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:

yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol

shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death

speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries

yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare

yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"

he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit

imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)

ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!

so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years

yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him

yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)

his plan is simple:

ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins

hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)

use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher

use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security

this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on

leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!

soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto

all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this

just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)

yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder

vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)

so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them

yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box

when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell

they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest

AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun

#rain code #mdarc #raincode #master detectives archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #yakou furio #desuhiko thunderbolt #shinigami #yumagami #kokogami #yakou's wife #rain code spoilers #mdarc spoilers #raincode spoilers

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theplotmage · 7 months ago

Text

Murder Mystery Tropes with Paranormal Fantasy, Horror, Whodunit and Slasher for Writers

The Detective - The main investigator of the crime, possibly with a supernatural edge.

The Red Herring - False clues or suspects designed to mislead.

The Locked Room Mystery - A crime committed under seemingly impossible circumstances.

The Butler Did It - A classic misdirection where a seemingly minor character is suspected.

The Femme Fatale - A seductive woman with potential hidden motives.

The Alibi - Evidence of suspects' whereabouts during the crime.

The Gathering of Suspects - Bringing all suspects together for the final reveal.

The Amateur Sleuth - An ordinary person drawn into solving the mystery.

The Police Inspector - A professional law enforcement officer involved in the investigation.

The Mysterious Stranger - A new arrival with unknown motives.

The Hidden Motive - Characters with secret reasons for their actions.

The Unreliable Witness - Witnesses with contradictory or biased testimonies.

The Hidden Clue - Seemingly insignificant details that are key to solving the mystery.

The Confession - A character admitting to the crime, often under false pretenses.

The Final Twist - An unexpected revelation at the end of the story.

The False Confession - A confession made to protect someone else.

The Cover-Up - Characters attempting to hide their involvement in the crime.

The Intimate Setting - A small, closed environment where everyone is connected.

The Victim's Secret - The murdered person had a hidden past or secret.

The Revelation Scene - The detective explains the solution to the mystery.

Paranormal/Horror Elements

The Cursed Object - An artifact tied to the victim that brings misfortune.

The Haunted House - The murder site known for ghostly occurrences.

The Vengeful Spirit - The ghost of a previous victim seeking revenge.

The Demon Possession - Indications that the victim or suspect was possessed.

The Shapeshifter - Rumors of a creature changing forms, adding confusion.

The Supernatural Detective - An investigator with paranormal abilities.

The Blood Moon - A rare celestial event coinciding with the murder.

The Psychic Medium - A medium providing cryptic clues from the spirit world.

The Ancient Ritual - The murder tied to a forbidden dark ritual.

The Disappearing Body - The victim's body vanishes, leaving eerie evidence.

The Doppelgänger - A sinister double causing confusion and fear.

The Possessed Doll - A creepy doll inhabited by an evil spirit.

The Time Loop - The murder repeating itself in a time loop.

The Night Terrors - Horrific nightmares providing clues to the murder.

The Sinister Prophecy - An old prophecy predicting the murder.

The Evil Twin - A malevolent twin emerging, complicating the investigation.

The Necromancer - A character raising the dead to manipulate events.

The Shape-Shifter - A creature changing forms, difficult to track.

The Forbidden Book - A dark magic tome found at the crime scene.

The Mysterious Fog - Supernatural fog hiding crucial evidence.

The Living Portrait - A portrait that moves, providing eerie clues.

The Witch's Familiar - An animal linked to a witch, influencing events.

Slasher Whodunit Elements

The Masked Killer - The murderer hides their identity behind a mask, creating fear and mystery.

The Final Girl - A trope where one girl, often resourceful and strong, survives the killer's rampage.

The Isolated Location - The setting is cut off from the outside world, increasing tension and fear.

The High Body Count - Multiple victims are killed throughout the story, each death more gruesome than the last.

The Survivor's Guilt - Characters who survive the killer's attacks feel intense guilt and paranoia.

The Urban Legend - The murders are connected to a local legend or myth that many believed to be just a story.

The Creepy Warning - A strange character gives a foreboding warning about the danger that lies ahead.

The Phone Call - The killer taunts the victims or the detective with eerie phone calls.

The Chase Scene - Thrilling sequences where characters are pursued by the killer, creating high tension.

The Brutal Weapon - The killer uses a distinctive, often gruesome weapon, like a machete or chainsaw.

The False Safety - Characters believe they are safe, only to find out the killer is still near.

The Dark Past - The killer's motives are tied to a traumatic event in their history.

The Power Outage - A sudden loss of power plunges the setting into darkness, heightening fear.

The Split Up - Characters decide to split up to cover more ground, often leading to their doom.

The Hidden Lair - The killer has a hidden lair where they plot and prepare for their attacks.

The Betrayal - A trusted character is revealed to be an accomplice or the killer.

The Fake-Out Death - A character appears to be dead but later reveals they survived.

The Booby Traps - The killer sets traps to catch and kill the victims in inventive ways.

The Creepy Clue - An unsettling object or message left by the killer, serving as a taunt or clue.

The Frantic Escape - Desperate attempts to escape the killer, often through dangerous or narrow paths.

Occult Fantasy Elements

The Magical Artifact - A powerful item with dark magical properties, central to the plot.

The Enchanted Forest - A mystical forest where occult rituals and creatures reside.

The Coven - A secret group of witches or warlocks practicing dark arts.

The Prophecy - A foretold event involving dark forces and mystical events.

The Secret Society - A hidden group with its own occult agenda, influencing events from the shadows.

The Sorcerer - A powerful magic user who may be an ally or an antagonist, often dabbling in forbidden magic.

The Occult Creature - Beings like demons, dark fairies, or shadowy entities that play a role in the story.

The Cursed Bloodline - A family with a dark curse affecting their fate, passed down through generations.

The Forbidden Spell - A dangerous spell that holds the key to solving the mystery or defeating the antagonist.

The Hidden Realm - A secret world or dimension that characters can access through occult means.

The Quest for the Dark Grimoire - A journey undertaken by the characters to find an important book of dark magic.

The Ancient Rune - Mystical symbols that provide clues or have magical effects.

The Time Portal - A gateway that allows characters to travel through time, often tied to occult practices.

The Occult Warrior - A skilled fighter who protects others using magical abilities and knowledge of the dark arts.

The Healer with Forbidden Knowledge - A character with the ability to heal using dark or forbidden magic.

The Shape-Shifting Demon - A being that can change its form at will, adding layers of deception.

The Enchanted Weapon - A weapon imbued with dark magical properties, essential for defeating the antagonist.

The Book of Shadows - A book containing powerful spells and rituals that characters seek or use.

The Dark Oracle - A seer who provides cryptic prophecies and guidance, often with a sinister twist.

The Elemental Forces - Characters or creatures that control the elements (fire, water, earth, air) through occult means.

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awkward-walking-potato · 10 months ago

Note

How would Wade care for a reader on their period?

Period Panic Prevention

You and Wade were curled up on the couch, surrounded by a sea of blankets and pillows. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV as an action-comedy played out on the screen. It wasn’t anything particularly deep or emotional—just the kind of mindless fun that you both enjoyed after a long day.

Wade had one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand holding a bowl of popcorn that was slowly being devoured. His occasional commentary and quips about the movie kept you laughing, but there was a strange tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake.

As the movie went on, you found yourself getting inexplicably teary-eyed. You tried to blink it away, but the feeling only grew stronger. It wasn’t long before a lump formed in your throat, and your eyes started to well up.

Wade noticed immediately. Of course, he did—nothing got past him, especially when it came to you.

“Hey, uh, you okay, babe?” he asked, glancing down at you with a mix of confusion and concern. “This is the part where they blow stuff up, not the part where you start bawling your eyes out.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I—I don’t know. I’m fine. I just—” Your voice cracked, and suddenly, you were crying in earnest, your shoulders shaking as the tears spilled over.

Wade was flabbergasted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! What’s going on? Did I miss something? Did they slip in a tragic backstory I wasn’t paying attention to?”

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath between sobs. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming.”

Wade’s expression shifted from bewildered to understanding in an instant. He’d seen this before—several times, in fact. And each time, it took him a minute to put two and two together, but once he did, the solution was clear.

“Babe,” he said gently, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb, “do you think your period might be coming up?”

You paused, sniffling again as you tried to think through the haze of emotions. “Maybe… I haven’t really been keeping track, but it could be.”

Wade nodded, now in full detective mode. “Okay, okay, I got this. You just hang tight for a second.”

Before you could ask what he was up to, Wade was off the couch and out of the room, leaving you with a confusing mix of emotions and a vague sense of embarrassment. But then again, this was Wade—he wasn’t the type to shy away from anything, especially when it came to taking care of you.

A few minutes later, he came back into the living room, a triumphant look on his face as he presented you with a basket that looked like it had been assembled by someone who took their job very seriously.

“There we go!” Wade announced, setting the basket down in front of you. “The ultimate period survival kit, courtesy of yours truly.”

You stared at the basket in surprise, your tears momentarily forgotten as you took in the assortment of items he’d gathered. There were tampons and pads of various sizes, a hot water bottle, a box of your favorite chocolates, a bottle of painkillers, some herbal tea, and even a couple of face masks. It was like a one-stop shop for everything you could possibly need during your period.

“Wade…” you began, your voice thick with emotion, though for a completely different reason now.

But Wade wasn’t done yet. “Hold on, there’s more! I ran you a bath—it’s nice and hot, just the way you like it. And after that, I’ve got your comfiest PJs laid out on the bed. Oh, and don’t worry about dinner, I ordered your favorite takeout. It should be here by the time you’re out of the tub.”

He said all of this in a rapid-fire burst, like he’d been planning it for hours instead of just a few minutes. You blinked at him, overwhelmed by the sheer thoughtfulness of it all.

“Wade, this is… You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Didn’t have to?” Wade said, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, this is exactly what I have to do. You’re feeling like crap, and I’m not about to let you go through that without the proper tools, ya know?”

You felt another wave of emotion coming on, but this time it was one of deep affection and gratitude rather than inexplicable sadness. You reached out and pulled Wade into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as the tears started up again—only these were the good kind.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “This means so much to me.”

Wade hugged you back just as tightly, one hand gently rubbing your back. “Hey, it’s no big deal. Besides, you do the same for me, right? And I’m way more of a mess on the regular.”

You chuckled through your tears, lifting your head to look up at him. “Maybe, but this is different. This is… I don’t know, it just makes me feel really loved.”

Wade’s gaze softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That’s the idea, babe. You’re stuck with me, so I’m gonna make sure you’re as happy and comfortable as possible. And if that means putting together an emergency period basket, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the hot water bottle. “You’re the best, Wade.”

“I know,” he replied with a smirk, though there was a softness in his eyes that belied the bravado. “Now, go enjoy that bath before it gets cold. I’ll be here when you’re done—food ready, blankets fluffed, the whole nine yards.”

With one last kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and headed toward the bathroom. As you slipped into the warm, soothing water, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. Wade might have been unconventional in a lot of ways, but when it came to taking care of you, he never missed a beat.

When you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel and feeling much more relaxed, you found the fluffy pajamas Wade had promised laid out on the bed, along with a small note.

“Just remember: Even when the world’s a pain in the ass, I’ve got your back (and your chocolate). –W.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you slipped into the pajamas, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. By the time you made it back to the living room, Wade had everything set up perfectly—your favorite takeout, a stack of fluffy blankets, and your favorite movie queued up on the TV.

As you settled back into your spot next to him, Wade wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. The two of you dug into the food, the warmth of the meal and Wade’s presence soothing any lingering discomfort.

“You know,” you said after a few bites, “you really didn’t have to go all out like this. But I’m so glad you did.”

Wade smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Anything for you, babe. Anything at all.”

And with that, the two of you settled in for the rest of the evening, the earlier tears forgotten as you basked in the warmth of Wade’s love and care. It was moments like these that reminded you just how special your relationship with him was—chaotic, unconventional, and absolutely perfect.

#marvel imagine #x men imagine #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool oneshot #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson

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sirfrogsworth · 2 years ago

Text

Last week was crazy.

I honestly can't believe all of it happened in the span of a week. Well, I guess it was more like 10 days. But it was another... Alot.

It all started when I got my disability denial letter. I couldn't wait until I got into the house so I opened the envelope as I walked back from the mailbox. Once I saw the bad part I had an instant panic attack in my driveway.

I ran inside...

Okay, that isn't true.

I walked very quickly inside...

Nope, still not true.

Okay, I walked at my personal top speed which is probably still slow for most people... but the point I'm trying to make is that I was attempting to hurry despite only saving myself about 3 seconds of travel time.

But the hurrying made me feel better, okay?

Out of breath from my geriatric-style powerwalking, I called my lawyer's office immediately. And... he is on vacation. Won't be back until the next Thursday. I spent the entire weekend going through every panic state a body can feel. I go from angry to depressed to anxious to panicked to angry (again) to scared to more scared to extra more scared. Visions of homelessness danced in my head.

I can't sleep for over a day because my brain won't shut off. Finally my body gives out and I fall asleep on the couch watching random YouTube videos. But falling asleep on the couch is bad because I'm not hooked up to my CPAP machine. Then I finally do hook up my CPAP and my damned mask breaks. Thankfully it has happened before and I have a cool hot glue and duct tape solution. But it is hard to manage hot glue and tape when you haven't slept in days and your eyes will barely stay open. So a few burned fingers later, I am sleeping comfortably in my janky duct tape-laden CPAP mask.

Monday rolls around and I decide to go into problem solving mode. Problem solving is my superpower, so I was going to lean into that in an effort to reduce my anxiety. The denial letter said they had no records from before I was 22, so I put on my detective hat and began the hunt to prove I was sick before 2004. My aunt helped me dig through my mom's document drawer. I distinctly remember an essay I wrote to the disability people back when I first got sick. It was part of the paperwork they had me submit. It was a first hand account of my symptoms back in 2001. It also had an essay from my dad talking about how sick I was. I felt like if I could find that, the records surrounding it would all be related and from the same time period.

We go through the entire drawer and only find a few things that might be helpful. Then I realized my mom had a *second* drawer full of documents and my aunt was blocking it. So we start going through that and find a folder labeled "Ben's Disability Stuff." I would have never kept any of that stuff but my mom kept *everything* and it was all in chronological order.

She is still looking out for me.

And she may have kept me from being homeless.

We find the essay and records of my ECT treatments and the names of doctors and all kinds of evidence of my medical woes before 2004. And even if they won't accept it as direct evidence, I can use these documents to show doctors I was their patient. And my primary care doctor said he would be willing to talk to those past doctors to help me convince them to write a letter on my behalf. All they really have to say is they treated me for severe depression and fatigue. And because my mom kept a list of my prescriptions and my ECT treatments, I'm hoping that will be enough to convince them even if they don't remember treating me.

Wednesday I had my monthly checkup. And I got to peek at my main doctor's records from before 2004. It's all handwritten notes and a little hard to read (bad doctor handwriting is the most accurate stereotype in existence). But it clearly says I had depression and was undergoing ECT treatments. It even mentions one of the doctors I want to write me a letter. It's not a lot, but it is first hand, direct medical evidence from that time period. I think it will be very compelling to whoever reviews my case.

I also talked to the nurses/assistants in the office about copying my entire chart, and I thought we were on the same page, but as you will see later... we were not on the same page.

I exit the building and remember how far away I had parked. And once again I forgot to use my cane—even though I keep a spare in the car. The main lot was full and the disabled parking was occupied, so I had to park in the secondary lot. My legs were holding up so far, but it was already a lot of walking for me. Very slow walking.

His office is in the same complex as the hospital. Which is my next stop. It's the same hospital that I have been going to all of my life. And the hospital where both of my parents died.

But I need vintage medical records and that is where they keep them.

Or so I thought.

I drive from the medical office parking lot to the hospital parking lot and only the spots farthest away are empty. And because of goddamn global warming, it is 90 fucking degrees in late September. I park, lock my car, grab my man purse, and start hoofing it to the hospital entrance. I'm so nervous about getting these records that I forgot my damn cane again.

My thoughts are basically, "What if they only keep 7 years of records like everyone else? What if the records from Christian Northwest aren't kept with the records from Christian Northeast? (Christian NW doesn't exist anymore.) What if they won't send them to my lawyer? What if it costs a thousand bucks? What if, what if, what if..."

I get to the front desk and ask the lady where the records department is. She gives me directions that my brain is only capable of half paying attention to. Then I realized I left the records release form from my lawyer in the car. So I walk another half mile in the heat to my car without my cane. And initially, my thought was, "Well, at least I can grab my cane once I get the form." But by the time I got to my car my thought was, "AHHHHHHHHH THAT WAS A LONG FUCKING WALK. KILL ME!"

And so I forgot my cane.

Again.

I get back to the lobby and wave at the lady who gave me directions. I pretend like I remembered and confidently walk in the direction I recall her pointing to. I found the elevator. Thankfully this particular elevator only goes two places. Which seems like a waste of an elevator, but... whatever. I get off on the second floor and am met with a big sign with all the departments and little arrows next to them.

(I'm sure you knew what I was talking about but I'm trying to break up this wall of text with images because I am a professional blogger person.)

I see "Medical Records" and a leftward arrow. I used my keen detective skills to surmise I should probably veer left.

I find myself at the beginning of the world's longest hallway.

Without my cane.

And it is flooded with sterile florescent light and the walls are adorned with the world's most inoffensive art.

Here is a painting of a plant. Here is a painting of a bird. Here is a painting of a bird sitting on a plant. Wait, is that a... WATERFALL??

Suddenly Indiana Jones' voice shouts in my thoughts...

So, if you had to guess, do you think the records department was...

A.) near the beginning of the hallway? B.) in the middle of the hallway? C.) beyond the world's longest hallway in the world's second longest hallway?

As I enter the world's second longest hallway, I notice the art is repeating itself. I've seen that bird sitting on a plant before. I worried I was going in circles, but it turns out they probably just bought the inoffensive art in bulk and weren't concerned about repeats. I get about halfway down the second longest hallway and see a big sign sticking out... "MEDICAL RECORDS."

Note to God: The real world needs a fast travel mode.

I was a big sweaty mess and my legs were like jello. I lumber through the door and find a young woman scrolling through her phone and probably wishing she was anywhere else. She was behind a huge partition with a plexiglass divider—probably still there from COVID days.

I mean, it's still COVID days. But no one is acting like it so I am just pretending it is all over like everyone else seems to.

She notices an out-of-breath Hagrid towering over her and apathetically inquires, "Can I help you?"

I hold up a finger as I try to gain my composure and figure out exactly what I want to say. I usually rehearse this kind of thing beforehand but with all of the anxious thoughts spiraling through my brain, I totally forgot to do that.

"I need to ask questions about records." "What kind of questions?" "Well, how long are the records?" "I'm sorry?" "What year do they start?" "What year do you need?"

I'm suddenly realizing why I rehearse these things. So I take a moment and breathe deeply. I form the proper question in my mind.

"How far back do you keep medical records?" "30 years."

I shoot my hands up like I just scored a touchdown and say, "OH THANK GOD."

She is very confused.

"30 years, oh my god. 30 years just saved my life."

She is still very confused.

"And do you have records from Christian Northwest?" "Yes, we have everything from all Christian hospitals."

I try to give her a brief explanation of my situation and she cuts me off. "Fill out this form."

I look at the clipboard and it is a release form.

Do you remember way back when I walked an extra mile to and from the car to get a release form that my lawyer prepared? Well, turns out they have their own version of that and I walked all that way for nothing.

I finish the form and hand it to the bored, indifferent front desk lady. She tells me someone will be out in a moment. So I sit in the uncomfortable waiting chairs and try to rest a bit. A much tinier young woman walks to the front desk partition thingie and calls out my name. But due to her diminutive stature, she is completely obscured by a pillar and I have no idea where the voice is coming from. We do this little awkward dance on either side of the pillar, attempting to see each other, and finally we both end up on the same side. She starts looking over my form and seemed a little annoyed that I left a section blank. I wasn't sure what kind of records I needed and there was no box that said "everything everywhere all at once."

What I really wanted was any document with my name on it from the beginning of time.

But I was worried about asking for too much labor from this person so I started negotiating for some reason.

I was like, "Well, like, I really need like anything you have from before like 2004. And then maybe, like, some general records after 2004. Like, the pre-2004 records are super important. But, like, I also need to show I was sick all my adult life. So if there are like, summary records? Or, like, something?"

I couldn't stop saying like. I was turning into a Kardashian. Again, some rehearsal was probably warranted.

"I just don't want to be a burden and make you dig up all of my records. I mostly need my ECT records from 2001."

"What is ECT?"

"Shock therapy. It's for depression. I just need to show I was really sick before the age of 22."

"And who is this guy on the form?"

*ramble mode engaged*

"Oh, that is my disability attorney. You see, I'm trying to get a special kind of disability, but I need to prove I was sick before the age of 22. So anything like that before 2004 would be very helpful. But like, if you have less detailed records after 2004 that is good too. Because I may need to prove I've been sick my entire adult life."

*continued rambling until I notice she stopped paying attention*

She did not need to know all of this. And I was not answering the questions she needed answered. I was nervous and babbling and oversharing and I couldn't snap out of it. And I was really concerned if I asked for too much, she was going to be upset. But then she told me all of the records were in a warehouse and she would not actually be finding them for me. She just places an "order" for them. So this weird negotiation thing I was doing to keep her from being annoyed at me was pointless.

And I also realized... this is super important.

I yell at myself, "Ask for everything, stupid! Quit trying to get halfassed records because you're worried about inconveniencing someone."

Finally I just say, "I want every medical record you have from before I was 22 until now."

And she was like, "Sure."

Well... that was easy.

I thanked the tiny lady and the bored lady and exited back into the second longest hallway. My adrenaline was surging. I kept yelling, "30 YEARS!!" in my brain. I had to tell someone this amazing news. I had to tell them right that second or I might burst. So I grab my phone from my man purse and dial Katrina.

The thing is, I only call Katrina when something really bad happens. People don't make phone calls anymore. People text! So when she picked up the phone she answered with a very worried tone. As if somehow a third parent of mine died or something.

"THIRTY YEARS!!!!" "WHAT IS HAPPENING??" "They keep records for 30 years!" "OHHHHHHHHHH!!! That's amazing!"

She probably didn't hop for joy in real life, but in my mind I like to pretend she did. I start explaining everything that just happened and how they most likely have my ECT records and then I realize I am in the middle of the world's second longest hallway and I don't remember which direction leads back to the world's longest hallway. And because I am having unusual and extraordinarily good luck, a medical worker was walking by right at that moment.

"Which way back to the elevator?" "This way!" "Oh great! Thank you!" "Or that way. There are two elevators."

There is that normal luck I recognize.

I can feel the universe realigning itself. But that is okay, because...

THIRTY YEARS, BABY!

I talk to Katrina as I traverse the two longest hallways. Thankfully I was going in the correct direction and found the proper elevator. After a nice chat about various things including problematic 80s movies, we hung up and I decided to treat myself to a hospital cafeteria chicken quesadilla. They are surprisingly delicious and I ate them every single day while my dad was in hospice. Those quesadillas were a single bright spot during one of the hardest times of my life.

So I walk up to the grillmaster and look at the menu.

"Wait, where is the quesadilla?" "We stopped making those two weeks ago."

Universal realignment completed. Luck has returned to its original state.

A male nurse in front of me commiserated. "Yeah, man. I miss them too."

I walked back out to my car both happy and depressed. An odd combination of conflicted feelings. But my day was not over yet. I needed vaccines and groceries. Naturally, I went to the grocery store with the CVS. I got my dad his last booster there, so I was confident they could take care of me. I grab a shopping cart and pick up a few things on the way to the pharmacy. I get in line at the little vaccine check-in spot. The woman in front of me is getting her booster as well. Otherwise, the pharmacy is empty and the three employees are just scrolling through their phones.

After the previous booster seeker was taken care of, I tell the woman I need a booster and a flu vaccine.

"I can give the flu shot now and set an appointment for the booster." "You never required an appointment before." "We just started a few weeks ago." "Can I make an appointment for, like, now?" "No, sorry." "Do you have the booster in stock?" "Yes." "Do you have someone here qualified to give the booster?" "Yes." "Do you have any other appointments right now?" "No."

I tried very hard to keep my composure and remain polite.

"I am disabled. It is very hard for me to get out of the house. Returning another day would be very difficult. Can you please make an exception?"

"I can get you in tomorrow."

I probably should have asked for a manager at this point. But I had no energy for confrontation. She started preparing for me to get the flu shot, but I told her I was going somewhere else. My happy news was quickly being soured by weird rules that made no sense.

But I did see a cool robot.

I got my groceries and loaded them into my car. Some were frozen items so I made sure to turn the A/C on full blast. I called another pharmacy. It was the one run by the Jamaican family who came out to the house to give my parents boosters during the height of COVID. I asked if they could do walk-in vaccinations without an appointment. And in that beautiful accent, they replied, "Sure, come on by. We'll take care of you."

Their shop is in Ferguson. Which I'm sure the news has convinced people is a constant warzone or something. But the main street, West Florrisant, is actually really neat in spots. A lot of small businesses catering to the Black community. There was a soul food place and an African hair braiding place and a Taco Bell. Okay, it wasn't all Black-themed shops, but the pharmacy was directly next to the "Wumzy African Attire" tailoring shop that was combined with the party planning store.

And in the back was an African beauty supply depot.

Three shops in one! Just a very efficient use of space.

And looking through the window of the tailoring shop was like a feast of colors for the eyes. I don't know how they get fabric so bright and colorful. Really beautiful patterns too. I tried not to look like a creep while staring inside so I just walked reeeeeally slow toward the pharmacy entrance.

I just wish people knew that side of Ferguson. It's a beautiful community that was really dragged through the mud by the national media.

I digress.

I walked into the pharmacy and it was long and skinny. They had a few shelves with over-the-counter health products. But the main area was pretty empty. I guess they want to make sure they can accommodate long lines without people having to wait outside. But their working area seemed really cramped. There were some awards on the wall and news articles. Apparently, they are very involved with vaccinating the local refugee community. Something you won't see at pointless appointment-having CVS. I just felt like I was in the right place even if my frozen items were thawing and my legs were buckling from constantly forgetting my cane in the car.

The shop was run by the pharmacist and matriarch. Her son took my information. He looked about 18 and was a bit shy—but very kind and helpful. He directed me to this little partition they set up for vaccinations and they had a liquor bottle full of hand sanitizer. The label had a big "DO NOT DRINK" warning. I found a picture of the exact one on Google.

I washed my hands and rolled up my sleeve. The pharmacist greeted me with my shots prepared. Some people have a sort of magic touch when it comes to giving shots. I'm not sure if it is a special technique or just lots of experience, but aside from a little pressure, I didn't even feel the needles going in. And my arm was only mildly sore despite the double shots.

I really wanted to thank her for sending someone to vaccinate my parents when no one else would. But I was really tired and chickened out. So I just thanked her and drove home.

I unloaded my groceries and collapsed on the couch. I could barely move at that point. Everything hurt.

But... 30 years.

I was feeling good the next day despite everything. My body hurt, but my brain was contented from my success. But there was more to do and everything was trending downhill. I called those doctors mentioned in my personal medical records. I knew it was a long shot, but I asked if they kept records from 2001. They did not. However, I thought the psychiatrist who did my ECT was dead. And it turns out he is just old-as-heck and still practicing. So even though he doesn't have records and probably doesn't remember me, I am hopeful he will write me a letter.

My other psychiatrist from back then is also still practicing. No records there either.

So far my phone anxiety wasn't getting the better of me. But I still had more calls to make and I could feel my brain starting to get melty.

My pocket knife doesn't open correctly and I couldn't get anyone to email me back from SpyderCo. So I called their office in Colorado and tried to get someone to talk to me. I got bounced to three different people and finally a guy told me that model is just hard to open. So that was pointless.

Melt. Melt. Melt.

And finally, I had to call the dreaded CPAP supply place.

It did not go well. At all.

You can read more about it at that link, but the short version is I got angrily sighed at for asking reasonable questions about what the hell "chart notes" are. And the lady refused to answer those questions for no reason I can fathom. She eventually brought me to tears and got angry at me for doing so. And it turned out the call was pointless as well.

Oh, and my lawyer was sick. Remember him? Vacation guy? Who skipped town at the exact moment I got my disability denial letter? Yeah, I had been waiting for 7 grueling, anxiety-filled days to speak with him and he gets sick the day he returns.

Brain is melty goo.

Hey, Universe! I think you are overcorrecting with that luck realignment. I appreciate the 30 years of records thing, but can you let me enjoy it a little?

Friday arrives and I still have calls to make. The CPAP lady really messed up my brain and so just dialing the numbers was freaking me out. But I decided to start with the worst first. I called the CPAP lady and she finally had her precious "chart notes" and put my order through. She was cheerful and helpful and I was confused but thankful.

I thought maybe things were looking up in my phone call adventures.

My next call was to my primary care doctor's office.

One thing you need to know about my doctor is he is a bit of a... hot mess. A very smart, capable doctor. He knows his stuff. I suspect he has an eidetic memory due to his instant recall of medication names and doses and things that happened 8 years ago and detailed descriptions of medical conditions he only heard about in school 40 years ago. Aside from that, he is kind and compassionate and he has my back no matter what.

But he is technologically stuck in the 80s. His personal life is a roller coaster of drama. He once hired his girlfriend of 2 months to work at the office and his regular staff secretly whispered "She's so awful" behind his back. (They broke up soon after.) He is disorganized and constantly running late. And he takes on tons of frustrating patients because they have nowhere else to go. I admire him for treating so many poor elderly folks without any family to take care of them, but you can tell it is extremely challenging at times and a lot of that labor is delegated to his staff.

His office manager is probably the only person on the planet who can tolerate him being a hot mess.

Unfortunately, she is also a hot mess in completely different ways.

She tries to speedrun through everything. It's probably because she has a million things to do and is trying to fit 12 hours of work into an 8 hour workday. I try to be sympathetic and understanding of that. But one of her methods for speeding things along is attempting to use her psychic powers. You will start telling her what you need and she will do this thing where she cuts you off and tries to predict said need.

"I need a prescription for..." "Your thyroid meds are due, right? I'll send it over to the pharmacy." "...insulin. But I have a question about..." "So thyroid and insulin? No problem. I'll send it over." "...increasing my dosage." "Wait, what's yer question, hon?" "Was it 50 units..." "No, it's says 100. Okay? I'll send it over. Take care." "...twice per day or 100 units once in the morning?"

Often her predictions are so bad that it actually takes a lot more time to correct her than it would if she had just let you finish speaking. And this is especially problematic for me because I rehearse everything I need to say and she constantly interrupts and so I have to end up improvising new things to say that I never accounted for. And I'm already anxious and not thinking clearly so I do a poor job of explaining my needs and it just ends up in disaster.

So I have a complicated situation. I need my entire written chart copied and sent to my lawyer. I know it is a lot of work for the office staff. They probably have to copy several hundred pages. But this is probably the most important evidence in my disability case. And my lawyer has already volunteered to pay the several hundred dollars it will cost. It's worth it because if my case goes well, I could get years of back pay.

I call and get the young woman whom I really like on his staff. She is very quiet and unassuming but secretly the star of the office. Like a ninja of competence. If you really need something done properly without mistakes, she is the best one to go to. But her job does not include handling the records, so she transfers me to the office nurse. The office nurse does not process new information well. You often have to explain things several times. And if she gives up trying to understand, she hands you off to the office manager.

The Final Boss, if you will. I was really hoping I could avoid that.

"Okay, so my lawyer needs all of my written records..."

"He needs to fax a form saying what he needs, okay honey?"

"He already faxed a release form asking for records and I brought in a new copy yesterday with all of his mailing information..."

"He didn't fax anything. He needs to tell us what he needs. I'm not seeing any form. Just tell him to call me."

"He is out sick today and he already faxed the form and I brought a second one just in case. I signed it and dated it and I watched Competence Ninja put it in my chart. It asks for everything..."

"Okay, I see it here. This doesn't look right. He needs to tell us what he needs us to send him."

"It says in the letter, 'to release any medical information, including medical records, written letters, treatment reports, testing results, or similar information.' Should it say something different?"

"I've been doing this 20 years and I've never seen anything like this. He needs to be more specific. I ain't sending him all that, hon."

"So, this is for my disability case. I already talked to the nurse about this. And I know it is a lot, but the doctor's records are the only direct evidence that I've been sick since 2001."

"So you just need something from 2001? Okay, the lawyer needs to fax something saying that."

"I need the entire handwritten chart copied and sent to the lawyer. We need a full record of my illness because..."

"This is ridiculous. You're lawyer is fucking lazy. I've never seen anything like this. And I'm worried he is not going to represent your interests."

"This is not a normal disability claim. If you'd allow me to explain I think you'd understand why I need..."

"Disability should already have all this. We shouldn't need to send this. This is fucking ridiculous and you need a new lawyer. You're going to lose your case with his lazy ass."

"This isn't normal disability. I need to prove that I've been sick for a long time and..."

"This is going to cost a fortune, you know? We charge 50 cents per page. You're going to be out hundreds of dollars."

"Okay, but I will be out thousands of dollars if I don't get this copied."

"Fuck it. I am going to copy this ONCE. No more after this. UNDERSTOOD?"

And... she hung up on me.

My heart was beating out of my chest with panic and my eyes were blurry with tears. And in that moment, I thought I had done something wrong. My doctor gave me his personal mobile number so I call him up with tears apparent in my voice. I explain what just happened and that I was really sorry and that I didn't mean to upset her. He told me she is "just like that sometimes" and I shouldn't take it to heart. They have a very serious deadline for something due that day and she was very upset and I was collateral damage. I asked him to apologize for me and he said there was no need. He said we'd work it all out on Monday when this deadline wasn't stressing everyone out.

It wasn't until I calmed down a bit that I realized I did absolutely nothing wrong. That she was just being a big jerk and taking her other problems out on me. And I was probably the one deserving of an apology. I also remembered this is not the first time she has blown up at me. She was the one who tried to make me get a ventilator instead of a proper CPAP machine years ago. She said, "My mom has one and it works fine." And I was like, "So if I travel I'm supposed to take 12 pounds of medical equipment instead of a 1 pound device that fits neatly into a backpack?"

I get why my doctor made excuses for her. She works very hard and puts up with him. He'd never be able to find anyone that would last a week doing that job. And I have a feeling he probably defended me after I called. I played what he said back in my brain and noticed a frustrated tone. Despite what he said, it seems clear he was pissed.

I can make amends and figure things out with her. That isn't an issue. But I am worried that between her and CPAP lady, all of the progress I've made trying to reduce my telephobia was erased. I really was getting better calling people. I used to need Katrina hanging out on Skype while I called anyone as moral support. And while it still helps, I've gotten a lot better at calling strangers on my own. But now, I'm not so sure.

I might ask if there is an office email address I can use from now on. If I can write out what I need there is no way to get interrupted. I can be clear and detailed and use my writing skills to communicate way better than my phone skills.

I don't know.

It was just a crappy way to end a stressful, exhausting week.

But it wasn't the end!

Friday evening my sick lawyer finally called. I had rehearsed all kinds of things I wanted to say to him. But it turns out, all of my emails already did most of the talking—proof that I write a great email. He was really impressed with all of my detective work. And he said if those records pan out, he is very optimistic about my case going forward. He also said that he was expecting a denial. And it was probably good that we got that out of the way quickly. And now we get to mount more of a defense, which is what lawyers are good at. We talked for about 20 minutes and came up with a battle plan. He explained the process going forward. But he mentioned one thing that worried me.

This could take a while.

A lot longer than I was expecting.

I explained that I currently have a runway until about June 2024. That's when the mortgage money runs out. However, my brother should be willing to release my inheritance in March. I hope. I have a hard time trusting anything my brother says anymore. But if he does, then I should have another year of mortgage payments. But I am definitely going to have a Plan B just in case my brother finds a new way to disrespect my father's wishes.

The lawyer said there is a quick thing and a long thing. The quick thing has a low chance of success. But it is worth trying. The long thing is a hearing with a Social Security lawyer. He said a lot of these lawyers are miserable and don't want to be there and don't really care. Which is a good thing because they'll just be like, "Fine, whatever." But it can take a long time to get a hearing due to backlogs.

So, as long as I can gather all the evidence and the hospital records have my ECT stuff, I think there is room for hope. A little hope. After years of chronic illness I know hope is sometimes dangerous. So I allot a tiny bit of hope to keep me going forward, but not enough hope to leave me devastated if things go tits up.

So... umm... I think that is the end of this novel of a post. I feel bad that I don't have a big climax or twist or cliffhanger. Should I add a big CGI dragon fight?

Even though a more down-to-earth kung fu fight with my brother would be a more satisfying conclusion?

Or I could pull an M. Night Shyamalan and reveal that I've been dead for quite some time.

This post is getting really long.

Why are you still reading this?

I am thankful that you are. I just needed to get all of that out. I hope I wrote it in a compelling way and you weren't bored.

I love you all.

#long post #i see dead frogpeople

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organ-market · 2 years ago

Text

Unconventional Detective Games

Return of the Obra Dinn, 2018

The maritime mystery game Return of the Obra Dinn by Lucas Pope is almost entirely subversive for a detective game. Everything in the game from its core premise to hyper stylized presentation, is all ambitious and experimental. Every person aboard the Obra Dinn has mysteriously died and you assume the role of an insurance investigator piecing together the horrific events using a magic watch that delivers to you a front seat viewing of a vignette of each person’s demise. Using these dioramas of death, you are charged with recording the manner of death of each and each crewmember and passenger aboard the ship.

Return of the Obra Dinn and its addictively satisfying detective puzzle gameplay left me hungry for more. Playing the game instilled in me a deep love for a good mystery and a desire to solve them. While I love games like Disco Elysium, which stars detectives as its protagonists, the investigation was never really the point. Moreover, a love for the unconventional detective was entrenched in my heart and as an interactive medium, video games are perfect for aspiring would-be detectives.

Overboard! , 2021

The year is 1935, aboard the S.S. Hook, Veronica Villensy throws her husband overboard under the foggy shade of night. In Inkle’s devilishly clever puzzle/visual novel, Overboard! you have eight hours before reaching the ports of New York and in that limited time you must relieve yourself from suspicion and guilt for your husband’s death at any cost. It’s a sort of anti-detective puzzle about getting away with murder which forces you to learn your fellow passenger’s schedules, plant evidence, and be consistently careful with your language lest your words betray you much later.

The DNA of time loop games such as Majora’s Mask and The Sexy Brutale is woven into the gameplay loop of Overboard! It’s a fairly short game taking around 2-3 hours to finish the story but at the benefit of allowing an immense amount of player agency. There is a wide variety of solutions to evading the mighty hand of justice, you are free to travel around the ship on a whim with no direction from the game itself. The only hint system is visiting the chapel and praying to God which is both cleverly diegetic and hilarious.

The nonlinearity of your objective incentivizes logical thinking and experimentation. The puzzle is rewarding much like learning each map and NPC routines in the Hitman: World of Assassination trilogy is. At first you clumsily trip over your words when Major Singh interrogates you but eventually you can get away with murder in style along with netting some pocket money from the life insurance if you pull it all off just right!

The nonlinearity of each puzzle in Overboard! is incredibly refreshing, it just feels organic and natural. Going achievement hunting in this game is its own little puzzle and I still haven’t figured out some of the little secrets it hides from us. It’s a game I can’t put down and haven’t yet been able to stop thinking about and I really recommend giving it a shot since it’s only $15 and only $6 if you catch it on sale.

Pentiment, 2022

Obsidian Entertainment’s Pentiment was my favorite game of 2022 and enraptured me for long nights as I obsessed over its rich dialogue and gorgeous medieval illumination manuscript inspired art. So much love and research was put into the historical setting, it takes place in 16th Century Bavaria within the town of Tassing is filled with life and character. You play as Andreas Maler, an artist working in an abbey on a hill and whilst attempting to finish your masterpiece, your co-worker and friend, Brother Piero, is falsely accused of the murder of a wealthy Baron who was staying in town. You are sprung into action as you only have a limited amount of time to clear Brother Piero’s name.

You are given a limited amount of time to wander around town, attempting to conduct interviews, deduce motives, and eventually gather enough evidence to bring the culprit to justice. Because of the impending trial, time is ever so precious in Pentiment and you will never have enough time to do everything you want at your leisure. Every moment dwelling on conversation or recreation is time you could have spent digging for answers. In order to pin a suspect you must hone in on what you think is most beneficial for your case like a true detective.

Brother Piero’s freedom is always at the cost of another’s conviction, in Pentiment you must push the blame onto someone else. During your investigations, you find that Sister Matilda, a nun at the abbey, had been assaulted by the late Baron many years ago. This is one of the clearest motives in the game but most physical evidence points in other directions, all the while every nun in the abbey will assure you of her innocence.

Saint John's Eve Festival Bonfire

Convincing the archdeacon (the head of the trial) of Sister Matilda’s guilt is perhaps the easiest of all the suspects to accomplish and Pentiment will not tell you outwardly that Matilda didn’t do it but it doesn’t have to. In a clever subversion, the game never tells you if you caught the culprit in the end. Pentiment, brilliantly, left me to wonder if I made the right choices as the totality of the lethal consequences of my actions weighed on my mind. You can easily convince the archdeacon of someone’s guilt but are you able to convince yourself?

The brutality of the executions should not be understated. You look on helplessly as someone you convicted meets an unwieldy end as they plead, cry, and eventually die. The executioner’s sword rises and falls as it lodges itself into the neck again and again until the head breaks free from the neck. Whether you like it or not, your choices matter in Pentiment and the consequences stare you down with a harsh disposition.

While playing Pentiment I was continually reminded of a line from Rian Johnson’s murder mystery film Knives Out. The titular detective Benoit Blanc (he’s so me by the way) notes that, “...the complexity and the gray lie not in the truth but what you do with the truth once you have it.” The complexity of truth is captured beautifully by Pentiment. In many regards it is a conventional mystery but by weaponizing the player’s need for clear answers it infected my mind for many hours after the credits rolled along with the minds of many others. There are fierce debates and chatter surrounding who really did the killing. Pentiment wasn’t as well talked about as it deserved, with all the games releasing it was overlooked by most. Well, it isn’t exactly for everyone but for the price of $20 it gave me a wealth of dialogue to mull over and wonder about.

Phasmophobia, 2022

A multiplayer ghost hunting spookfest is not exactly what you’d think of when discussing detective games but Kinetic Game’s Phasmophobia is deeply investigative by nature. Intense inspection is at the beating heart of the game with an important twist. Where ordinarily a detective chases after a suspect after the fact, here your suspect is reacting to your every move and can (and will) kill you on a whim. In the game you and up to three other friends venture into a haunted house and gather evidence and clues to determine which of the twenty four ghosts in the game is currently residing in your location.

You and your team will wander out of the safety of your van and into cold, darkened rooms to find clues by checking thermometers, speaking into spirit boxes, and throwing salt all over the floor in hopes of getting the ghost to step in it. Not only can you gather evidence with your camera and UV lights but another layer in your investigation is the behavior of the ghost. Knowing how aggressive each ghost is or how fast it is, is a tremendous asset in your deductive arsenal. The more you know, the more you can whittle the possibilities down until you have your culprit.

But finding the ghost and gathering evidence is just one thing, surviving the ghost is another. Being in the dark and bearing witness to paranormal activity will deplete your sanity and eventually the ghost will target you for a hunt. The front door slamming shut marks the beginning of a hunt, the ghost will manifest physically and chase you down and kill you if you don’t hide in time.

Corpse of my friend, deceased. Moments before I run out of the house in terror.

Phasmophobia is a dangerous balancing act of facing your fears by delving into the darkness in order to find clues and trying desperately to find the ghost type as fast as you can so you can get the hell out of there. The reactivity of the ghost keeps you on edge as you wander the halls gathering data. Speaking into the spirit box may prompt a raspy whisper into your ear or the candle you just lit may be blown out moments after. More interestingly though, is the voice recognition AI that takes advantage of the communication players rely upon. Everything from saying you’re scared to a simple curse word can lead to the ghost favoring you as prey. Even players who stay in the van for too long get targeted by the ghost!

Within Phasmophobia is one of the most unique investigative experiences on the market and definitely a one of a kind multiplayer experience. The comfort of having a buddy to share your terrors with is stripped away when they stop responding to your radio! It’s truly unlike anything I’ve ever played and the developers are constantly updating it, two big thumbs up from the afterlife.

The satisfaction from my first time getting away with murder in Overboard! and the despair when I find out I had the ghost type completely wrong in Phasmophobia are some of my most memorable experiences in gaming! And Pentiment proved to be one of the most well written games I’ve had the pleasure of reading. I sincerely hope you check them out if you haven’t already! They’re all pretty cheap anyway. And once again begging for recommendations in the comments/reblogs so if you know any good, and hopefully weird, detective games let me know! Thanks in advance everyone and I’ll catch you on the flip side :P

-Ghost Emoji 👻

#organmart #om-ghostemoji #writing #video games #video game recommendations #detective games #return of the obra dinn #overboard!#overboard game #pentiment #phasmophobia

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

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hello! i'm not sure if you remember me, a while ago i asked about digital art and if it's possible to do on an ipad or something similar. i was really grateful for your response and i got an ipad over christmas! i didn't realize how expensive the pencils were though and was only able to get one recently. now that i have all of that, i download the first art program i saw (ibispaint x, i don't know how good that is) and feel super overwhelmed by everything, all the tools and brushes and i have no idea where to begin. i know this is a super broad topic, but i don't know if you have any advice for a beginner hoping to become a digital artist? or know of any resources? thank you so much in advance and no worries if this topic is too broad to really get into properly!

Oh hey!! Congrats on getting an iPad! And yeah, shopping for the pens is a big pain in the butt, but I'm glad you finally got it all setup!

So most of the advice I'm gonna give you is very basic, starter advice that can apply to virtually any digital art software, as the vast majority of them are built with the exact same base tools, they just vary in their intended purposes which means they may differ in more advanced settings and what they offer beyond the basics (ex. Photoshop has more colors than Clip Studio because it's built for editing high quality photos whereas Clip Studio is meant to emulate comic art, but Clip Studio offers more in the way of comic-creating tools such as specialized rulers, 3D material support, built-in screentoning, etc. and all of the software available will tend to have different brush engines, meaning it doesn't always 'feel' the same to draw in one software as it does in another).

Your bestest friends:

Layers! This is the biggest pro to going digital, because now you can work with layers! So anything you draw on each layer is preserved and can't touch or affect whatever's on the other ones :3 You can find the layers tab in Ibis Paint X in the bottom right, don't be afraid to make a bunch of them and mess around with what you can do. Play around with the different blending mode settings (in Ibis Paint it's the menu that's labelled 'Normal' in the layers popup) especially Multiply, Color Dodge, and Overlay, as those three are the most commonly used to make coloring more efficient and give your art some extra pop.

Lasso/marquee/magic wand tools! These are basic selection tools that allow you to select an area within the layer you're working on, so that whatever you paint won't travel outside of that area. The Lasso is a free draw tool, the marquee tool is typically 4 sides by default (so squares/rectangles) and the magic wand detects and selects a closed area with one click! (just note that by default it's only on the layer you're on, so if you use it on a layer that has nothing, it will typically select the entire canvas).

Alpha locking! This is a simple button setting you can click to 'lock' the layer you're working on, which basically means that whatever you've drawn on that layer, anything you add can't travel outside of that drawing. So if you want to quickly shade something without going outside the lines, alpha locking is your solution!

Clipping groups/layers! This is a bit more advanced but is basically an even better version of alpha locking that you can use in conjunction with it. Clipping layers are basically additional layers that , when you click the 'clipping group' button, 'attaches' that new layer to the layer that's below it. It performs the same function as the alpha lock by preventing whatever you draw on that layer from travelling outside of it, HOWEVER it comes with the added benefit that it's on an entirely different layer, meaning you can erase and mess with whatever's on that new layer as much as you like and it won't hurt the base layer. It kinda follows the same logic as animation cels !

Masking! Y'know when you're doing a traditional painting, and you put down tape to cover the area so you can paint over it and later remove the tape and everything underneath is untouched? That's basically what masking is! Once you put down a layer mask, using the erase tool on it will 'erase' whatever the mask is applied to, and using the brush will make it magically return! This may sound silly at first, but I find masking is especially helpful if you want to erase something on the layer you're working on without it disappearing forever! It's also really helpful for comic work because you can mask whatever's outside of the panels and voila, nothing you draw will travel outside of those panels!

Stabilization! I don't know how extensive Ibis Paint X is with offering stabilization tools, but many digital art software comes with it and it's a LIFE SAVER for new digital artists adjusting to the feel of digital art. It essentially 'slows down' the output of the ink on the canvas which helps a lot with getting cleaner lines in fewer tries. It's not quite as big of a deal when drawing on iPads because obviously you have more control by default by drawing directly on the screen, but it can still be really helpful when you need to pace your hand ahead of the actual drawing tool to pull cleaner lines!

That's pretty much all I can think of for now! But here are some other commonly asked questions:

1.) There are so many brushes to choose from, which one do I use?

The round brush is small but mighty. Virtually anything can be painted with it, it's simple, but malleable, especially when you start messing around with the hardness and opacity settings. Don't get too lost in the sauce with the brushes that are available to you, it can be very easy to get overwhelmed by all the options and variety. Some artists still work purely with just round brushes, some artists have custom brushes they like to use to speed up their drawing process or achieve certain textures. Play around with them, but don't get too stressed about which one you use because there's no wrong answer, the right brush to use is the one that gets the job done ! <3

2.) What canvas size should I use?

It depends on a variety of factors such as whether or not you're planning to print, where you're going to be posting it, etc. By default I like to work on 8.5 x 11 inch canvases (standard printer paper size) at 350 dpi, which if you want to make that canvas in Ibis Paint X, means you just have to make a canvas with a pixel ratio of 2975 x 3850 pixels! Just note that the lower you go in either pixel count or dpi, the lower the resolution, so it's typically encouraged you work at a minimum of 300 dpi (but you usually don't have to go any higher than 600) to ensure you don't wind up with any blurry low res JPG's/PNG's.

3.) Should I export my final drawing as JPG or PNG?

This is usually just up to personal preference, but like the canvas size, it depends on what you're using the image for. You can always export as both, the biggest difference between them is that PNG is lossless meaning you won't experience image compression like you will with JPG, BUT you're also going to have much larger image sizes. JPG is often fine for any standard posting, PNG is typically recommended if you want to have a drawing with a transparent background for printing (as JPG can't do transparent backgrounds) or if you just want to have a really high res image file for sharing outside of social media sites (as social media sites like FB/IG/etc. will typically compress the hell out of your images anyways)

Here are some other super helpful resources as well if you need some visual and/or audio guides:

Sinix Design - How to Learn Digital Painting (Beginners)

Marc Brunet - The Beginner's Guide to Digital Art

Skynix Art - 50 Digital Art Tips in 5 Minutes

One thing I also like to do is watch speedpaints of digital artists as it can really help pull back the curtain on what they're doing (or at least, it can help you see what they start with which can help you better picture the process of turning a blank canvas into a finished work of art!) And though I don't do it as often, if there's an artist whose work I REALLY like, I'll try and find their actual work files (many bigger artists sell them on their crowdfunding sites/Gumroad/etc.) so that I can actually break the drawings apart layer by layer for the purpose of analysis. Of course, all that is something that you'll grasp better over time as you learn the tools and learn to recognize what artists are doing in their own workflow, so don't worry if you don't glean a whole lot of info from the "big guys" right away, you should always be referencing artists who are higher along the skill ceiling from you but not too high that they're using techniques and tools that are outside of your realm of understanding.

Other than that, just try to have fun, don't stress too much about it, and save often!!! Part of creating art is learning to be at peace with the process, so don't stress too much if it takes you a while to get adjusted to the layouts and tools - at the end of the day, digital art is another medium entirely, so it's not uncommon at all for traditional artists to need a lot of practice to 'switch' to digital, because they both utilize different tools and techniques. Be patient with yourself, always be on the hunt for new resources and guides and references, and don't be afraid to experiment and make mistakes (the best part about digital art? Mistakes don't cost you any paint or materials!)

Good luck!! And congrats again! 🥰

#ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #ama #digital art #digital art advice #art advice

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moniericreative · 4 months ago

Text

Goro Akechi: A Mask of Lies

Part 2 of my multi-post series: "The Universally Hated Futaba Line: Biased Opinion to Throw Out, or a Valid Point Taken Too Literally?"

The posts will be in the following order: Part 1: Clarifying the meaning of the line (Link) Part 2: A Mask of Lies (this post) Part 3: A Mask of Heroism (Link) Please check out the first post of the series for more context, as it'll help explain the direction I'm going in when discussing this subject. With that out of the way, enjoy part 2!

Alright, to recap in case folks are seeing this post first: In the last post, we discussed the meaning of the game's usage of "fake" regarding Akechi and Robin Hood. In it, we hopefully clarified that it is not referring to Robin Hood the persona as a "fake," but rather that it's merely one of Akechi's "masks" in public. A "persona" in every sense of the word, that he merely takes off and swaps out with Loki when he deems it necessary. Rather akin to Joker and his own array of personas. In these next two posts however, I would like to explore the meaning behind this particular mask. Or rather, the different nuances behind it. Out of all possible mythological figures to awaken to, why Robin Hood specifically? There are no fake personas after all (at least as far as P5 is concerned). They're a manifestation born from the hearts of these individuals, representing their inner rebellion. So it's not as if Akechi just chose Robin Hood as a persona on a whim. There's even the P5R Mementos Reports Vol. 3 that explains that he awoke to both Robin Hood and Loki simultaneously as well (which, ouch, his poor fucking face) to further solidify this.

Sooo... What're the two things Robin Hood as a figure is generally known for? Trickery against vile individuals in power, and being a hero to the less fortunate. For this post, we'll be exploring the former. His "Mask of Lies."

Let us discuss: The Game

One aspect about the Detective Prince that gets heavily underdiscussed at best, and outright ignored at worst, is how subtle, resourceful, and crafty he truly is, and nothing shows that remarkably well like Sae's Palace; The Casino of Envy itself.

Of all of the Phantom Thieves, Akechi's the sole member who understands a rigged system when he sees one, and instead of brute-forcing a solution, or accepting the system as it is and hoping integrity will win out... He instead cheats it.

Rather than toss out seeming trash, he keeps a literal card and a plan close to his chest that ends up being the very thing the group needs to succeed, after Shadow Sae tries to use her own underhanded methods to bar their path.

All while the other Thieves were completely unaware of what he was truly doing until he gave the step-by-step explanation.

Sure, he could've just told the others. But we've seen plenty of times through almost all of the thieves (Joker included) that they have a tendency to be too honest, and end up getting caught in their own lies. We also have him spinning Makoto's rather forward plan to use him as "police intel" around on the group with his own proof of blackmail on them, giving him an upper hand on the fly. Regardless of how much both sides know about each other, the Thieves by that point don't have anything tangible on him and his crimes as proof, and are stuck improvising as best they can afterwards (which works in their favor despite how much could've gone wrong).

Then lastly, there's how he interacts with others. Akechi's way of phrasing is very specifically vague, where he doesn't give details outright on what he plans to do. At most, he'll use double-entendres or metaphors (in both languages actually) in lieu of any direct response, which tends to fly right over several characters' heads (Shido especially), but are obvious hints when you know what to look for. Or he'll flat out give non-answers such as "soon" or "sometime after (blank)," and leave it at that. Just enough of an answer to satisfy without revealing anything.

Let us discuss: P5: The Animation

Akechi has at least one noticeable moment in the anime: (Episode 13 · Dreams and Desires)

In it, Yusuke's confidant takes a slight turn as Akechi looks into Kawanabe, an art dealer hoping to invest in him.

Rather than tackle the investigation through standard protocol, which he rightfully explains he can't for the following reason:

He instead convinces Joker to help him with it. Either Akechi himself is spying on meetings to gain intel about Kawanebe:

Or he's asking Joker for assistance on gaining intel (and eventually enough evidence to launch an investigation) as a third party unaffiliated with the police:

Let us discuss: Mementos Mission

Yes, the absolutely amazing Cross-Dressing Joker bit.

Yet again, it's another case (tied to a much larger one) that Akechi's asked Joker for his assistance with. This time, though, they're trying to get information from two possible suspects.

What does Akechi do?

He not only insists Joker needs a disguise in order to tag along on an official police investigation,

But he leaves getting information out of the more suspicious wife to Joker, as he has a knack for getting people to open up, while he himself distracts the husband whom they clearly weren't going to get anything out of. ... And he absolutely doesn't let Joker live it down.

"Surely these examples could all be tied to Loki, the "trickster god" himself, and not Robin Hood, right? He has both personas after all."

To that I say... Can it?

The thing about the Detective Prince is the way he lies. Throughout most of these examples, and including his interviews in the game, they all have one thing in common:

He's an expert at white lies, lying by omission, and subtle deflection when he can manage it.

He isn't really shown to deceive anyone to the extent of an outright bluff or disinformation (i.e. making up an entire elaborate story that he'd be fumbling the logistics of just to remember.) He lies to an extent of showing/wording the truth in a manner acceptable for a situation (i.e. focusing on how the Thieves' methods could be used for harm, much like what he himself is doing, or the below text messages), or he withholds information entirely and lets others assume for themselves, and rolls with the narrative they come up with without correcting them until they realize their mistake. (Credit to @Megaderping and @Vashtijoy respectively for these screenshots)

(Credit to Faz on YouTube for allowing us to also see this masterclass of a Mementos Request that unfortunately got cut as well)

youtube

He often weaponizes the truth in order to put himself into a better position, and to knock those against him down. He takes full advantage of other people's lack of context to set them up for either a downfall, or a very harsh reality check that he believes is much deserved. By the time of Third Semester, where Robin Hood is absent and Loki's at the forefront however, Akechi stops doing this. (Rest assured, despite just saying that, we will discuss that Mementos Request further in "Mask of Heroism." It takes place in Third Sem and ultimately got cut for a reason, but because of the nature of the request itself, which lines up pretty well with both nuances, I'm putting it here too.) He becomes straight-forward and blunt. A majority of the information/opinions he has, he gives willingly to others of his own volition, often coming to Joker rather quickly with them than waiting for Joker to come to him. Anything that strays too close to personal however (his post-Engine Room status or feelings about his happiness), he doesn't smoothly steer the topic away anymore. He just slams the door shut on it with an "I'm no obligated to tell you." Credit to @hifugoro for even making an observation about his base game VS third sem sprites as well to add to this (it's such a good post)

Needless to say, this is all a pretty consistent aspect of him across several official mediums. The sincere, righteous Detective Prince persona is, like the characters put it, very much fake. It is a palatable image Akechi puts up to the general public; to be "wanted" for once by other people.

To be a symbol of justice in the eyes of others. Rather much like a superhero in a way. Funny given how Robin Hood's design is inspired by them too... But perhaps there's more to that than solely for aesthetics and nostalgia? To use another recent example of a beloved superhero: Think of All Might from My Hero Academia. He does the exact same thing as well; project an image of himself to the public as a "Symbol of Peace," even if that's no longer who he can live up to anymore. While All Might's not a secret hitman like Akechi is, MHA does a decent job explaining that the public needs something to look to in times of uncertainty. Without it, chaos ensues as people sink further into lost despair. And in Persona 5, that is very much the case. Shido's entire political campaign is to paint himself as a "beacon of prosperity and justice" to the entire country, especially in the wake of the chaos he himself is causing behind the scenes. As Shido's pawn, Akechi does the exact same thing, especially in his war against the Phantom Thieves. Constantly sow seeds of doubts in their motives and methods, paint himself as an altruistic detective of justice, then reap the rewards when the Thieves get framed for a murder. They both use this "Symbol of Justice" as a mask. A tool for their respective goals. While Akechi's goals are more well-meaning than Shido's are, it doesn't change the fact that this is all a charade he puts up for the public. Without the mask, he's a "cursed, unwanted child" who would've never been able to reach Japan's upper echelon to exact his justice on Shido. Without the Detective Prince, Akechi is nothing. ... Or is he?

(To be continued in Part 3: A Mask of Heroism)

#persona #p5 #persona 5 #goro akechi #gaming #p5r #persona 5 royal #robin hood #character analysis #moni rambles

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anonauthorsworkshop · 2 years ago

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helloo, i stumbled upon ur mha x scp au and AHDSIHDSGISDGJ UR WRITING??? IS SO GOOD?? (also im new here hi, can i be 🎭 anon) more mha x scp au pls /nf tho

hii 🎭 anon :) i get a lot of requests for this au haha, sure!

previous part here

AU where MC is transported into the MHA universe with a SCP-summoning quirk. essentially a MHA and SCP crossover. you can read the rest of the parts under the tag #pp mha au

(note: i have never watched or read mha in my life and all of my knowledge is from fanfics and lazily googled questions! sorry in advance for any mischaracterizations or anything that just... doesn't make any sense? lol)

You lean forward, nearly falling off of your chair in the process. Squinting your eyes into narrow lines, you focus on one, crucial objective:

Trying to figure out what the hell is sitting right in front of you.

He looks like a cat, sort of. He reminds you of Josie, or, well, 529, with his feline-esque features and all.

Oh, you really should summon Josie here again sometime. It's been quite a while since you last have. That cat makes a good cuddle buddy. Even if she's missing the entire other half of her body.

You hum in thought, continuing to careen forward from your chair. No! This thing across from you is nothing like Josie. His ears look more like a bear, like 1048. Or could he be a dog? No, no... You've got it! He's definitely a rat!

Leaning back, you return to a proper sitting position and internally applaud yourself for finding the solution to your own ridiculous question. A rat, you think to yourself, face smug. Reminds me of a certain mask that drips black snot.

Wait a minute. The satisfied expression you adorn falters as you inspect the rat closer. What if it's not a rat, but a mouse?!

No, you're getting sidetracked! You take another bite of the banana you have graciously been given by your... captors? Do they count as captors if you willingly went with them?

The clearing of a throat. "Excuse me. If you could please answer the question..."

Oh, right. They're not really your 'captors,' just your interrogators, (that provide you with free food, might you add).

"What was the question again?" you ask, before not-so-elegantly stuffing the rest of the banana down your throat. You couldn't help but cave into your stomach's hunger; you haven't tasted this quality of fresh food in years! No more scavenging for meals or rummaging through garbage bins!

The man in uniform raises an inquiring eyebrow. You examine the badge attached to his right breast pocket: 'Detective Tsukauchi.'

He gestures to his side. "He asked you for your name."

Your eyes follow his hand's movements, and you find yourself gazing at the rat once more. "Oh, I wasn't paying attention." You admit shamelessly, grabbing another banana from the bowl placed before you. "I'm Y/N."

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N." The rat smiles. You absentmindedly nod in response. "I'm Nezu, the principal of U.A. High. The man beside me is Detective Tsukauchi," you glance at the final stranger, "and this is Aizawa, a teacher at this school. He is also the one who found you. We would like to ask you some questions, as you are already aware."

"Sure," you comply, shoving another banana into your mouth. "I don't mind."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, I think."

"Who are your parents?"

You shrug, nonchalantly reaching for another banana. "Don't have any."

Nezu's grin widens slightly, and you watch him place a paw below his jaw. "Would you be comfortable telling us about what happened in that alley?"

Cocking your head to the side, you carefully peel off the banana's skin. "Which one?"

The detective speaks up. "The one you were found in."

Chewing another bite of your food, you tap a finger to your chin in thought. "Well, I was asleep until I heard a bunch of noise." Slowly, you turn to Nezu, replicating his ear-to-ear smile as you dramatically retell your experience.

"I looked up from my home, my beloved alleyway cardboard box, and saw two groups of people fighting. I decided to hide in my box until it was all over, but then one of them crashed into my home. They crumpled my box, and my hiding spot was revealed! The two groups started arguing about 'gang territory,' or whatever, and one of them decided to use me as a hostage and pointed a gun to my head."

You sink your teeth into your banana once more, oblivious to the horrified looks from every adult in the room.

"Oh, but it was fine," you casually continue, mouth half-full, "since, you know, I took care of it and all."

"When you say that you 'took care of it,'" the detective asks cautiously, "do you mean that you used your quirk?"

"My... quirk?" You scratch the back of your neck. "I guess it's my quirk? Don't know too much about 'quirks,' to be honest. I've never been to a doctor, or whatever specialist you go to for checking those out."

"Could you describe to us what it was that you exactly did?"

You gulp down the rest of your banana before replying. "You mean, in that alley? I summoned, or, like, conjured up one of those, uh." You pause, replacing 'SCPs' with another word to prevent further confusion. "Creatures? One of those creatures."

Tsukauchi looks you in the eye. "These creatures that you summon." You glance at the detective's hands, and you notice that they're trembling. "What do they do? What do they look like?"

"Usually I summon them to help and protect me." You explain with a shrug, "Oftentimes I encounter people who want to hurt me for some reason. There's a bunch of, er, 'creatures,' that I can summon, and they don't typically look like your perception of what's 'normal.'"

You continue, "There are endless possibilities, really. One looks like a teddy bear, just covered in human ears." Tsukauchi's eyes widen, as if his suspicions have been confirmed. "There's some that are long and bony. Some of them have these gigantic claws and razor-sharp mouths. Some of them are all gooey and acidic-"

"I believe that's enough." You turn to the side, taking a brief glimpse at Aizawa, who is standing beside you. Those were the only words he's spoken this entire time.

Turning back to the other two, you're about to grab another banana when you catch sight of the detective. You stare awkwardly, your hand paused mid-air. He seems to have completely spun on his heel to face away from you, hands clutching the wall as he gags and dry heaves. You scoot back in your chair uncomfortably.

"...And you do not have a home, correct?" Nezu stands up from his seat, approaching yours.

"Well, I did, but like I said, my cardboard box was destroyed because of those two rival gangs, or whoever they were."

"I see." He raises a paw so as to pet the top of your head. You clumsily bend down in your chair, allowing the two-foot-tall principal to reach your height. "We can arrange something for you. You may stay in a personal dorm here for free, if you would like." He smiles, "So long as you attend this school, the police force has also gladly agreed to erase your criminal record!"

You gawk at him. "C-criminal record?" Well, you guess you usually do end up leaving a mess of dead bodies behind, but it's always in self-defense!

"You should know it is illegal to use your quirk unlicensed and in public, Y/N."

Surveying the room, you dart your eyes from person to person. In the corner of the room, the detective, who is on the verge of vomiting up his insides. The man beside you, Aizawa, who refuses to look at you. The one standing in front of you, Nezu, who is blackmailing you, but is also offering you free shelter and free food...

You huff, grabbing Nezu's paw and shaking it wildly. "It's a deal, then."

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haithhegimp · 2 months ago

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re: your most recent post

I HUMBLY REQUEST THAT YOU YAP ABOUT YOUR MARYLANCE AU!!

I love you draw them (chibi or no)...they such cuties fr...

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU!!!!! BOTH FOR ASKING AND FOR THE COMPLIMENT!!!!!

(also @wholesomenerd here's your infodumping lol)

ok im gonna split this up into two parts!! first will be ranting about/explaining their original lore cus i dont think that most people know about them, and second part will be ranting about the AU itself. disclaimer that my marylance AU is the same/combined with my DC OC AU! its all super long combined so im gonna put it under a cut lol

part one: original lore!!

both mary and lance are one-shot characters from pre-crisis batman lore. mary comes from [Star Spangled Comics (1941) #103] and lance comes from [The Brave and The Bold (1955) #83].

mary willis is originally a girl in dick's school who is his age, and has a crush on robin. she makes the absolutely madlad desicion of becoming a vigilante to catch his attention. she studies criminology, organic chemistry, higher mathematics, how to be a detective, and a shit ton of other things. she trains physically like crazy. she ENGINEERS A GODDAMN CRIME COMPACT WITH SHIT LIKE A RADIO, FINGERPRINT POWDER, EXPLOSIVE AND SMOKE CAPSULES, A FIRST-AID KIT, AND MORE. mary is fucking insane(ly cool). anyways she goes to help dickbin as roberta the girl wonder but 50's misogyny strikes again and dickbin is like "girl??? being a vigilante?????? ew" and he kicks her out but she fucking picks the lock to the batmobile and sneaks into the batcave and dick reluctantly lets her help him with some cases. she does great and the two of them work together for a couple of weeks. mary keeps trying to get closer to dickbin but hes like "uhgmmm,.... no." anyways dickbin decides to find out who she is by giving her a giftcard and hiding out in the store the next day. he finds out who she is and is like "oh no anyone could find out who she is" as if she didnt TRUST HIM AND THATS WHY SHE USED THE CARD- anyways his solution to this is TRICKING HER INTO REMOVING HER MASK ON LIVE TELEVISION AND EXPOSING HER IDENTITY TO MOST LIKELY THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE. yeah old comics are,,, not the best with women,,,

moooving on! lance bruner is originally about dick's age as well. his dad dies and it turns out that the guy was besties with thomas wayne and they made a legal agreement that if anything happened to him then lance would go to the wayne family. so lance is a horrible and evil little fuck (affectionate) and he keeps doing stupid shit where dick takes the blame instead. dick is frustrated by this and calls in the titans, who are like uhmm maybe the power of friendship can help?? the power of friendship does Not help because they think lance is annoying. anyways some stuff happens thats not really important its just more of dc trying to convince us lance is evil and horrible. then this legal guy comes in and tells bruce that lance is evil and horrible cus of a police record and that he's a reform and military school dropout and that his dad died of a broken heart. which is like,, extremely fucked up things for a government worker to say about a child that theyre in charge of?? so the guy tries to drag lance to a reformatory (which, don't take my word for this because i havent done proper research yet, but tmk were absolutely horrific places in the 60's, especially considering this is GOTHAM) and lance is rightfully terrified about this and begs bruce not to let him go. bruce agrees to give lance one last chance and the kid uses it pretty well. he's way more helpful and mindful and nice and all that gross shit (genuinely could you imagine being threatened that if your behaviour, as an extremely lonely and fucked up teenager, didnt meet standards then you would be sent to a goddamn reformatory???). but then lance wanders into the batcave and is Very Upset about bruce and dick being batman and robin. so lance goes to this Evil Guy (named stark) who's been in a subplot about oil through the whole issue and is like "i know who batman and robin are, give me money and ill help you fuck them up". stark shoots dick when dickbin and bruce get there and bruce is like D:> and the titans also arrive and they all fuck shit up. stark tries running away but bruce chases and then suddenly robin appears and hes like "surprise bitch im haunting you" so stark shoots him again. it turns out that was actually LANCE! and dick is fine but lance is like "him sacrificing himself for you made me realise what real love is" and then he fucking dies. im not joking he Pretends to be robin for ONE PANEL and then DIES.

part two: MY AU!!!!!

now it is time for Fun >:)

so basically, i have this set in just vague early 2000's, and im still not done fully fleshing out their characters, but i have a solid thing for their dynamic and story. also i only recently made ozulite so their role in the story is subject to change, but the overall plot remains the same.

lance (and mary) is 3 years younger than dick in this au, and when lance shows up its around the end of dick's run as robin (when he's roughly 17). the first half of his arc happens the same- with him doing dumb shit and making dick take the blame, then the government guy trying to take him to the reformatory, him acting more like how bruce and dick want him to, and then finding out that theyre the dynamic duo.

but in this AU, instead of going to stark and selling them out- his feelings of being left out and being lied to make him basically say "fuck them i want to be a part of this. i can be robin too. im just as good." (spoiler, he's not). so he steals one of dick's robin costumes and a couple of the weapons/tools from the batcave and starts sneaking out as a fake robin. even if he's an absolute moron for doing this in the first place, he's at least smart enough to stay away from anything big and sticks to stopping petty crime while relying on his tools.

meanwhile all of that, mary willis with a massive crush on dickbin has been training and preparing her ass off to be a vigilante. so when she finally feels she's ready, she waits for the batsignal and starts heading to the police station to meet robin! only for her to run into.... robin?

mary immediately clocks that lance is Not the real robin, and they get into a huge argument about it because lance keeps insulting dick (though he doesnt reveal his identity) and roberta, and mary is angry at this stupid rude loser pretender. they hear/see a crime happening and stop their argument to go stop it, but keep fighting after. mary ends up so distracted by this annoying little fuck and the fact that he's pretending to be robin that she loses track of going to the station at all by the time the night is over.

the next night, they meet on the same rooftop and the pattern repeats. this keeps going and neither of them want to admit that theyre sort of growing on each other and that its more bickering/bantering than actual argument now, and that they work really well together as a team. mary is far more physically skilled and her engineering skills and shit ton of research does them really well out in the field, and lance is naturally brilliant at scheming and strategy.

the two of them also meet and grow closer with ozulite (my OC) who works at leslie's clinic and found the pair freaking out over an injured mugging victim and helped them out.

their wannabe crime-fighting escapades happen for about 3-ish months total and Sssssssomewhere in there my other OC rosa joins the batfam. she and lance get along like a house on fire cus lance has been continuing his good-ish behaviour but been lowkey self isolating from the rest of the family so when rosa shows up and also hates everyone else (except barbara) they kinda hit it off really well.

rosa has fucked up standards about child safety due to Reasons and so she knows about marylance vigilante escapades but sees no problem with it and no reason to inform dick or bruce or alfred or barbara.

anyways finally something gets fucked up and lance gets shot. rosa barely manages to get him back to the cave in time and she gets into a huge argument with dick / gets screamed at by bruce for not telling them what lance was doing. mary is absolutely shook about it because she doesnt even know who lance is yet and theyve been getting closer and closer but neither has even come close to actually admitting that they like each other.

lance wakes up and is like "oh oh fuck fuck fuck roberta and ozul" and he convinces bruce/dick to take him to their usual meeting spot where mary and ozul are waiting for him. mary kisses him and they confess to each other and then all three of them break down crying because theyre fourteen year old losers.

the bullet went through lance's lung so he has respiratory issues now. he can technically still be a vigilante but it would require medical aids and now that the rest of the batfam know about all this they do NOT let him get those (medical aids moreso than needed for comfortable normal life he obviously has those)

mary decides to give up on being roberta as well because even though she is like extremely good at it, her heart wasn't ever really in it. she's happy enough just to be a badass civillian (and to have a losercore partner in lance).

lance definitely goes into business when he's older, maybe takes over wayne industries. mary would definitely become a professor or researcher of something but i havent really decided what- im somewhere inbetween organic chem, chemical engineering, and just engineering.

mary gets along fine with rosa, but gets along AMAZINGLY with babs once she gets to know her. she doesn't really fuck with bruce, and is kind of nice with, kind of awkward with dick because like genuinely its so awkward to interact with your partner's older brother who you used to have a massive crush on. (but like after several years theyre more chill about it and get along well)

i havent decided yet/i dont know how theyll interact with everyone else in the batfam, but ill come up with it all eventually.

ALSO. lance bruner is genderfluid in this au because a) it gives me space for far more fun with his character, and b) these two are practically oc's at this point and creating straight ships physically ails me so i trans'd one of them to make them Not straight

oh, my, GOD. finally done that's all i have for them for now but there will DEFINITELY be more to come because if it somehow wasnt obvious yet, i love this AU deeply. let me know if you want me to rant about rosa and ozulite!!

#dc #dc comics #dc fanart #batfam #batfam fanart #batfam headcanons #batfam au #hai's art #hai's writing #hai rambles #lance bruner #lance bruner fanart #mary willis #mary willis fanart #marylance #marylance fanart #roberta the girl wonder #roberta the girl wonder fanart #dc oc

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