FANFIC: wildflower (Marvel 616)

Apr. 21st, 2026 12:02 pm
queenslayerbee: Encarna covers her head partially with a veil, dressed in black, to offer a poisoned apple to Blancanieves after she’s finished in the bull ring. Everything in the image is in black and white, like in the film, but everything except encarna is blurred, and the apple looks crimson red. (encarna (blancanieves))
[personal profile] queenslayerbee
Another drabble I wrote for the snowflake challenge in 2025, this time for for [personal profile] fairyniamh.

Title: wildflower.
Fandom: Marvel 616.
Character/Pairing: Natalia Romanova.
Rating/Warnings: T, none.
Summary: For the prompt: "Black Widow + Flourish."
Word count: 100.

read more
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Tasha is a girl. She dances, standing gobbly yet proud on her tippy-toes. In the stage, she opens like a fresh flower, colourful, calling attention amidst her sturdier companions.

Natalia is a child. She follows when she can swallow the commands; when she doesn’t, she’s punished. In the Red Room, she wilts, grey petals falling and being torn alike at others’ will.

The Black Widow is an agent, an Avenger, a one-woman army. In the field she blooms, she freezes, she blooms again. She flourishes, she hurts. In constant transformation, never still or static, forever changing, is where she thrives.
therealtrash: Jay from Lacey's websodies: "skatepark". (Jay)
[personal profile] therealtrash
Chapter 3: Envious devil

Another day began, another day revisiting memories. Victor woke to his mother's complaints at his bedroom door, as he would be late for therapy. Once again, he hadn't slept well, seeming a little anxious. After a while in bed, listening to his mother complain that therapy wasn't helping at all because he continued to act like a lazy and distracted teenager, Victor got irritated and got up. He changed quickly, without worrying too much about what he would wear. He opened the door and didn't have much time for his morning routine, as he was under a lot of pressure. He soon arrived at the psychologist's office, since he didn't spend much time in the waiting room. He was wearing a white shirt with a jacket, wide jeans, and his usual boots. Just a regular fit of a teenager like him. "Hello, Victor! How was your week?" the psychologist asked as soon as Victor entered the room. Kind as always, she opened her drawer and took out her clipboard for another day trying to understand the mind of a traumatized teenager. "It was a s-... not very good..." Victor replied, sounding a little impatient and about to say something else, but he held back and censored himself. "Oh, really? I'm sorry about that, but remember, we're still at the beginning of the path to try and change your life. And you're doing your part, just by waking up every week to be here, even if a little late this time." The psychologist said in a positive and calm tone, as Victor slowly walked to the chair and sat down, still feeling a little tired. "Yes... my part." "You seem a little tired... would you like to continue your story about you and Ethan? It was taking a very interesting turn, and I'm very curious to know more about this boy." "Huh... sure." "I... where did I leave off...? It wasn't when he... no, it wasn't! Definitely not..." "Well, let's see... Oh, I remember! You told me in the last session that you discovered Ethan had a secret hiding place he considered a "safe place." I bet you didn't just let it go and move on with your life, right? You seemed kind of happy talking about that place, as if it were a home of good memories. So, tell me... how were things after you discovered Ethan's "secret"?" "Oh, yeah! ... his safe place. Well... of course, you're right, I really didn't just let it go and move on with my life. I mean, the whole situation that happened that day... it was quite strange, but in a way that makes you curious. That motivates you to keep looking for more about that person. In fact... I was intrigued by Ethan. I had never met anyone like him, someone so... nonchalant to everything, and who seemed to keep so many secrets... so, of course, I wanted to see if I could find him again, just to prove to myself... that it was real, that it had really happened, that he really existed. I don't know... I was kinda paranoid back then..." Victor said, rather slowly. He seemed to be already drifting into his memories and showing nostalgia in a way that made it hard to tell if he was sad or happy. "Haha, I think that's fine. You were curious, it's understandable, it wasn't a situation you expected, I understand you. But... did you find Ethan again the next day?" "Well, yes, I had find him again the next day. That next day..." Victor said, as he began to delve into his memories, which he was still reluctant to touch upon, but was doing his best to remember and recount, beginning here with yet another flashback. "Victor Richard Shaw!!" The teacher shouted loudly. My blood ran cold. I wasn't doing anything wrong, I was just drawing. It was a drawing of Ethan. I was trying to see if my memory still held him well, and besides, that class was boring as hell, so I couldn't resist to pick up a piece of paper and draw whatever bullshit came to mind. ... I really thought he wouldn't notice me! Because I was sitting in the place of the badass ones (and rejected too...) section at the back. But when I heard my full name being shouted and saw that ugly, angry, wrinkled face coming towards me, I immediately hid my drawing under my desk and pretended to be paying attention in class. But it didn't work. "What did you hide there!?" he asked, pointing to the underside of my desk, causing the whole class's attention to turn to me. "I-I didn't hide anything! You must be confusing me with another student..." I said, trying to pretend I didn't know what he was talking about. Then he just pulled my drawing from under my desk and asked, "So what's this?!" I was so mad, there were several other students talking amongst themselves, so why was only MY drawing bothering him?! As if I really needed to know how to differentiate all the types of minerals. "It's an art project!" I said, but he didn't listen. He looked at my drawing and then at my face, disgusted. "Who is this? Your girlfriend, huh?!" he asked, mocking me and my drawing. "W-what! No, it's not! he's not even a girl, to begin with..." Then he looked at my drawing again and then at me with a confused expression. "Oh, I see! So, this is your boyfriend?! Haha!" When he asked that, the whole class started laughing at me, I got so embarrassed. "N-no!! I already said, it's just an art project!" I said, looking down, feeling humiliated. "Then you should have done it in art class! Now, why don't you tell the principal you skipped class to draw your little beloved boyfriend? I bet she'd love to see your "art," hah!" And he gave me back the drawing. At least I had it back... Then I went to the principal's office, still not believing I'd been sent there for nothing wrong. In the principal's office, I had to listen to more bullshit from her. She gave me a whole lecture about how wrong it was to skip classes and that I wouldn't have a future if I kept doing that. Like, I just made a quick doodle during class, why all the drama?! Was it because I skipped class previous day too? It wasn't my fault! *sigh* She was also one of those people you never know if they're there to work or argue with the students, because she was wasting all her time with me. Until I couldn't take it anymore and she said, "If you don't want to study, then just leave! The door is open!" And in a moment of impulse, I replied, "Fine! That's exactly what I'm doing." I got up, grabbed my backpack, and left the school. I was hotheaded... I wasn't thinking straight about what I was doing. I simply... lost what little desire I had to stay in class when my teacher said that. You know... about... Ethan... being my boyfriend. If he really was, would that be a bad thing?! I bet so... That's why the whole class laughed at me. A boy having even the slightest possibility of liking another boy in a different way is already bad enough, huh...? Anyway, after fresh my mind for a bit, I regretted what I did, because I knew that sooner or later my mother would know about it and I'd have to listen to more bullshit. But since I was already skiping school again, I thought: "If I'm going to get a scolding anyway... it's better worth it." So, of course, I, who couldn't get the Ethan situation out of my head, went to look for his hiding place. I didn't want to mess with his things or anything like that, I just wanted to take a better look. Because, despite looking a bit messy... I thought his little place was pretty cool. But... I kind of forgot he was a morning student, and at that time he wasn't at school anymore. So, when I went to his hiding place to take a peek I mean, I wasn't even going to go in, I was just looking from afar, but... he was there... and he noticed me. "Yo, what ur doing there? Trying to invade other's space? Heh." He asked me from inside of there. I got scared and then embarrassed, even though I could tell from his tone of voice that he wasn't mad or anything, but I didn't want him to get a bad impression of me. "Y-you're here!?" I asked, confused. "Yeah, I study in the morning.. Forgot, dumbass? Haha." "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to invade your hiding place! It's just... I just wanted to take a better look, because I thought it was pretty cool," I said, trying to justify myself. "And that's why you skipped class again?" "No! It wasn't... I left for other reasons..." "It's okay. I won't judge you, I do that sometimes too, hehe." After that, I stayed there among the bushes and trees for a while, awkward and unsure what to do. "And... ur gonna stay there or not? Want anything? More eye powder?" "No, I don't need anything... I just... you know, I can't go now, or my mom will find out I skipped class." "If you wanna stay here, then go ahead. It's no longer a secret to you." "Oh... can I really?" "Sure. Just don't mess with me, and we'll be fine." So I went there, now certain that it wasn't something from my imagination. It's just... it was so peaceful, I couldn't imagine such a peaceful place in that neighborhood. Which, despite me being new there, had until then proven to be a far from peaceful environment. And Ethan was there, lying on the ground, always in that big hoodie and baggy pants, and of course, his nonchalant face. "And... aren't you skateboarding today?" I asked, sitting on the ground, trying to start a conversation. I was still a little awkward, because Ethan and I weren't even friends yet; he was just a strange enough guy to catch my attention. "Not in the mood," he replied. "Huh... ok. ... can I ask why...?" I asked, a little worried and prepared that something had happened. "I was in physical education class and I was forced to participate. We were playing dodgeball, and of course those mfs took advantage of that to hurt me. So, my body is kinda tired now, but I'm fine, that's nothing," said Ethan, looking at the sky, seeming a little tired, but used to it. As if it were just another Tuesday (and it really was). "Damn... always the same thing. Why do those guys do this to you...?" I asked, feeling a little sorry for him. "I'm weak," he replied in the quickest and most casual tone possible. "But... that's still not a justification." "Course not. But I'm an easy target, they don't need justification, they simply choose the most vulnerable person they see to be their toy. That's how things are, the strongest take advantage of the weakest and the weakest succumb." "That's not fair..." "Life isn't fair, Victor. Not at all." I was somewhat shocked by those words... the world Ethan lived in was completely different from mine. Even if my day was bad, his was somehow 10 times worse than mine, every single day. And I couldn't do anything about it... "You know... I'm starting to realize that my school sucks too," I said, holding my knees and looking at the ground. "I imagined... welcome to the club, buddy," he said, not too surprised, since I'd already told him my school wasn't all that great. "I envy those rich kids who can skip class whenever they want, they're so spoiled and won't be a bunch of losers even if they don't do well in school," I said, feeling like I could rant about anything that was in my mind right there and Ethan wouldn't mind, but he gave me an answer I wasn't expecting. "Don't envy them, Victor. Envy those who, despite going through so much suffering, still manage to kick the mfs ass in the end, through sheer effort. Those are the ones I envy. I hate em. I'm an envious little devil; I know I envy people who deserve much more than I do because they had the courage to get stronger in every way. But at least I don't envy those who know that easy come, easy go, and still think that money will always keep them on top." "That's... something so honest, Victor. Although Ethan confessed that he feels something bad for people who have been in the same situation as him and managed to get out of it, he had the courage to say what many try to hide: our flaws. Envy is a bad feeling, for sure. It hurts ourselves, it hurts others, but it's part of human nature, whether we like it or not. So, don't be so hard on yourself for envying someone, Victor. At least you admitted something many can't." The psychologist said, while Victor remained in his chair, with an uncomfortable expression, just listening. "Maybe I admitted this in the past... but I haven't admitted many other things in the present yet," said Victor, looking somewhat embarrassed and vulnerable. "And you can recognize that. Congratulations. When you feel comfortable enough to share those things with me, feel free. You'll get there someday, I really believe in you," said the psychologist, finishing writing on her clipboard. "...We're not perfect, huh?" asked Victor. "No... not at all," said the psychologist, handing Victor a paper with the date and hour of his next session. "...Have a good day. I'm going now... I slept badly, I'm tired..." said Victor, taking the paper and getting up. "Okay. See you next week, Victor!" "I hope you have a good night tonight." "Thank you... I'll really need it," said Victor, as he slowly left the room, feeling somewhat strange. Ending there another day of therapy.

Media Post

Apr. 19th, 2026 10:50 am
inchoatewords: Miss Piggy from the Muppets, dressed like a librarian with hair swept back, a long-sleeved white blouse, and a purple skirt. She is holding a book and is reaching up with her other hand to a case full of books. Above her head is the word book and a heart (books)
[personal profile] inchoatewords
Movies: None.

Television/Streaming: There is a new season of Taskmaster out; they're a fun happy group so far and I'm enjoying them!

We're nearly done with Buffy season 3. Since last post, we've watched:
  • "Bad Girls," where Faith gets Buffy to be a little wild, but then Faith ends up killing the deputy mayor
  • "Consequences," where Buffy is haunted by the actions of the previous episode, but Faith is still pulling her tough-guy persona and claims she doesn't care
  • "Doppelgangland," where the alternate-universe Willow is brought into the current Sunnydale
  • "Enemies," where the Mayor and Faith conspire to rob Angel of his soul, so that he will hopefully destroy Buffy
  • "Earshot," where Buffy is touched by the mouthless demons and suddenly can hear everyone's thoughts
  • "Choices," where Buffy tries to shut down the Mayor's ascension and where the gang talk about their future plans after graduation

    Faith irritates the hell out of me still; I understand she's had a rough life but the "tough-guy" try-hard stuff gets old. Again, this is a 40+ year old person commenting on teenagers' actions so take that how you will.

    It also annoys me how Angel is just going along with Buffy's delusions of the fact that they can have a normal life together. The Mayor, as evil as he is, is right - Angel can never be truly happy as otherwise he will lose his soul (as we have previously seen) and he will never age whereas Buffy will, and that could definitely lead to resentment down the line. Plus, they have even discussed that he can't take her out during the day and what kind of life is that?

    We also are nearly done with Season 3 of Farscape. Episodes watched:
  • "Revenging Angel," where D'Argo puts Crichton into a coma and he keeps going through these Looney Tunes-style scenarios. Very silly, but Farscape can do that quirkiness well.
  • "The Choice," where Aeryn goes to a planet with all the supernatural beings to deal with all her current losses
  • "Fractures," where Talyn once again reconnects with Moya and Aeryn has difficulty interacting with a not-dead, alternate Crichton.

    Books: I read Little Bosses Everywhere, which is about MLMs. Informative and infuriating. I'm glad that the author pretty much reiterates how much these are a scam and folks don't make their money back. I had not idea that Herbalife was still so prevalent, and I knew that the likes of Amway meddled in politics, but I don't think I was fully aware of the extent of it.

    I also read all three volumes of Warbeck of Wolfstein by Margaret Holford. This book came to my attention via a TikTok someone shared with me, and billed as an anti-Byron novel. There is not a lot about this book available online to get any sort of background on it other than that. I am not a Byron scholar but I know that he was very cruel to a lot of the women around him and abusive to his wife, and I think Holford was friends with Lady Byron, which is what probably prompted this book. I also did see in my internet wanderings that Byron did criticize some of Holford's work (she was a prolific poet, as well), so that probably had something to do with it, too.

    Our titular character does not show up for several chapters, as the scene must be set by the fragile Baron Marchfeldt, returning home to his castle and beloved sister after suffering ill health during battle. The reader learns along with Louisa about the wonderful Casimir and the brutish Warbeck, and that the Baron loves Casimir like a brother and made him promise to marry his sister after he, the Baron, is dead. Louisa is hesitant because she wants to get to know the guy first, after all.

    The Baron dies, and some time later, this handsome soldier shows up and claims to be Casimir. A series of events follows where Louisa falls in love with Casimir and they are pledged to marry, and at the 11th hour it is discovered that this gentleman is not Casimir at all, but Wolfstein! He leaves, the real Casimir shows up, but Louisa has heard some bullshit about him from other sources so she doesn't trust him at all.

    There's some political intrigue with Casimir and his father, the Duke. Casimir is trying to get over Louisa, and it's all very melodramatic, as these old books tend to be. Wolfstein comes back sometime later, claiming to be penitent and supposedly had a religious conversion, so will Louisa forgive him? She does, over time, realizes she still loves this man, despite his lies from earlier, and they get married.

    Of course, after marriage he becomes a tyrant and basically keeps her a prisoner in the castle. More political intrigue, Casimir's father keeps him prisoner, but not in his OWN castle, but in Wolfstein's, and neither of the star-crossed lovers knows about the existence of the other until the very last pages. Of course, it all winds up positively.

    Overall, it was decently entertaining but a bit long in the tooth.

    Listening to: I have only listened to one album from the Rolling Stone list recently, Lady Gaga's Born This Way, which is number 484 on the current list. It was not on the original list from 2012.

    Rolling Stone blurb:
    “Over-the-top” isn’t an insult in Gaga’s world; it’s a statement of purpose. Her second album is a work of blessed bombast, all arena-size sonics and Springsteenian romanticism, complete with a Clarence Clemons sax solo. There’s a thumping, half-in-Spanish song that proposes marriage to “a girl in east L.A.” (“Americano”), a synth-pop jam that includes a come-on on to John F. Kennedy (“Government Hooker”), and a touching ballad about a guy from Nebraska (“You and I”). Fittingly, the glam-slam title track became an LGBTQ anthem.


    This is a good album, very danceable. I like the title track, "Marry the Night," and "Edge of Glory" the best.

    Playing: the first Danganronpa game, Trigger Happy Havoc. After finishing the Zero Escape games, I had gone looking around Reddit and Steam forums for similar games. The main recommendations were AI: The Somnium Files and Paranormasight for the escape room elements. Others also recommended the Danganronpa games, which are less escape room, but definitely have the visual novel elements as well as murder mystery (and courtroom trials, a la the Ace Attorney games). I bought the first two on a Steam sale a while ago, and then the more recent Steam sale this year had a bundle of the first two Danganronpa games for pretty cheap, so I got them. After getting frustrated with Bendy and the Ink Machine, I turned to Trigger Happy Havoc.

    I am enjoying it but a few of the game mechanics in the first game are a bit annoying. Such as the difficulty level, which I set to the middle/default, which I presumed wouldn't be "baby" level, but also not hellishly difficult. However, it doesn't really explain at the outset how that all works, so in the courtroom trials, it will occasionally throw more difficulties in and it's occasionally frustrating if you want to just work on the story. You cannot change the difficulty without restarting the game in the first volume, but apparently in the second game, you can change the difficulty before each new chapter if you want to. Hopefully it doesn't get too much harder past the Chapter 3 trial, which I just finished. But overall, I do like the game and am curious to see how it all ends.
  • queenslayerbee: peitho and astrea by thegodfather. one girl with eyes closed, illuminated by sunshine, wearing a sunray gold crown. another woman, obscured by shadows, behind her surrounding her neck with one hand and lightly touching her chest with another, with bright red nails. (trapped (house of providence))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    This is the first of a short series of drabbles I wrote for a prompt meme in early 2025, written for [personal profile] fairyniamh.

    Title: voyeur's instincts.
    Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
    Character/Pairing: Faith Lehane/Willow Rosenberg + minor Buffy Summers/Faith Lehane.
    Rating/Warnings: T, none.
    Summary: For the prompt: "Buffy + bewitching."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    Willow watches them dance; more accurately, watches her dance.

    She’s a dark beacon, a bewitching spectacle. Her energy pulls them in, men and boys flocking towards her and lavishing her with their attention; attention she enjoys and feels entitled to, a proud large feline in her place of honor in the couch, but that she doesn’t hold in high esteem, doesn’t need.

    Willow feels envious. Willow feels… lacking. Much later, she’ll realize it’s only the attention of her light counterpart that Faith demands and craves and screams for. A hungry void, a demanding black hole, not too different from herself.
    fox_in_me: fox.in.me (Default)
    [personal profile] fox_in_me


    📝 Оригинальный текст записи
    Приветствую тех, кто ещё помнит меня.
    Пользуясь случаем, хочу записать одну историю. Не ту, которую изначально собирался не про Бикини. Это скорее последняя живая человеческая история, которую я услышал. Пока во мне смешиваются красное мерло и Jack Daniel’s, попробую передать её так, как она осталась во мне.
    Мне не хочется говорить о себе, пусть это будет просто что-то новое, живое.
    Перед сдачей анализов я случайно разговорился с одной девушкой. Иногда так бывает ты оказываешься в нужное время в нужном месте и просто подставляешь ухо, чтобы кто-то мог выговориться.
    Она старше меня на несколько лет. В браке со своим мужем со школьных лет - первая любовь, которая стала семьёй. У них всё, как принято считать «правильно»: дом, два бизнеса, причём оба не ради выживания, а ради души.
    Потом началась война.
    Её муж пошёл служить. Как и я. Ему повезло, он не оказался на передовой, занимался чем-то другим, но всё равно вдали от дома. И, как и я, он довольно быстро начал понимать абсурд происходящего.
    Семья нуждалась в нём. Он нуждался в семье.
    Шли месяцы. Месяцы превращались в год. И дальше ,без какого-либо понятного конца.
    Это не могло не сломать их.
    Им обоим было тяжело. Ребёнку тем более. Привычная жизнь стала чем-то из прошлого. Очень знакомое чувство когда день проходит, не оставив следа. Ты вроде жив, но не ощущаешь этого.
    Так они и существовали по разные стороны, но с одинаковой пустотой внутри.
    Служба сожгла его. Почти до тла. И с этим ничего нельзя было сделать. Даже её присутствие потом не смогло это исправить.
    Он потерял себя как мужчину.
    Она перестала чувствовать себя как женщина.
    И это начало разделять их сильнее, чем расстояние, страх и сама война.
    Спустя время он смог уволиться. Просто выйти из этой истории и вернуться домой.не имеет значения каким именно образом, он сделал это.
    Казалось бы, вот она, победа.
    Но оказалось, что война уже осталась внутри.
    Они снова были вместе. Дом, ужины, сон. Обычная жизнь. Но без жизни внутри. Без эмоций. Как будто всё происходит мимо них.
    Он не мог отпустить то, что пережил.
    У неё были свои переживания. Другие. И они говорили на разных языках.
    Рядом — но не слышат друг друга.
    И вот здесь я впервые услышал фразу:
    «Мы живём в открытом браке».
    Я не сразу понял, что это значит для них.
    Оказалось, он предложил это сам. Нашёл какое-то приложение и предложил ей попробовать, встречаться с другими людьми. Не как пара, а по отдельности.
    Для неё это было чуждо. Почти неприемлемо.
    Но они попробовали.
    И… это сработало.
    Она рассказывала о встречах: разных, очень разных людей, разных историй. Я не буду передавать всё, это слишком личное.
    Но одна деталь зацепила особенно.
    В какой-то момент они встречались с разными людьми одновременно.
    А потом эти люди начинали встречаться уже между собой.
    И из этого рождались новые отношения.
    Опыт был разный. Иногда странный. Иногда, возможно, болезненный.
    Но при этом они оставались честными друг с другом.
    Они всё ещё живут вместе.
    Иногда — по разным концам города.
    Но возвращаются домой.
    И делятся друг с другом всем, что у них есть.
    Так они пытаются хоть немного снова почувствовать жизнь.
    Я не знаю, правильно это или нет.
    Я просто хочу оставить это здесь.
    Как одну из форм того, как люди пытаются сохранить себя, когда внутри уже почти всё выжжено.
    Как ещё одно лицо войны.
    Мне кажется, каждый увидит в этом что-то своё.
    А я…
    я в этой истории слишком отчётливо узнал себя.
    То, как время в армии может выжечь тебя изнутри,
    оставив снаружи человека,
    в котором уже почти не осталось живого.
    И, наверное, самое страшное это не то, что война забирает что-то у тебя.
    А то, что она возвращает тебя обратно но уже другим.
    И ты сам не до конца понимаешь, остался ли ты вообще тем, кем был.

    Note translated in assistance with AI.
    Hello to those who still remember me.

    I’d like to take this moment to write down one story. Not the one I originally planned — not about Bikini. This is rather the last truly human story I’ve heard. While red Merlot and Jack Daniel’s are still mixing inside me, I’ll try to tell it the way it stayed with me.

    I don’t want to talk about myself. Let this just be something new. Something alive.

    Before сдача анализов I happened to start a conversation with a woman. Sometimes it just happens — you find yourself in the right place at the right time, and all you do is offer your ear so someone can speak.

    She was a few years older than me. Married to her husband since school — first love that became a family. They had everything that is usually considered “right”: a house, two businesses, both not for survival, but for passion.

    Then the war began.

    Her husband went to serve. Just like I did. He was lucky — he wasn’t on the front line, doing something else, but still far from home. And like me, he quickly began to understand the absurdity of what was happening.

    His family needed him.
    He needed his family.

    Months passed. Months turned into a year. And then more — with no visible end.

    It couldn’t not break them.

    It was hard for both of them. Even more so for their child. The life they once knew became something from the past. That familiar feeling — when a day passes without leaving a trace. You’re alive, but you don’t feel it.

    So they existed. On different sides, but with the same emptiness inside.

    The service burned him out. Almost completely. And there was nothing that could fix it. Even her presence later couldn’t change that.

    He lost himself as a man.
    She stopped feeling like a woman.

    And that began to separate them more than distance, fear, or even the war itself.

    After some time, he managed to leave the service. It doesn’t matter how — he just got out and came back home.

    It seemed like a victory.

    But the war had already stayed inside him.

    They were together again. Home, dinners, sleep. A normal life. But without life inside it. No emotions. As if everything was happening somewhere else.

    He couldn’t let go of what he had lived through.
    She had her own experiences. Different ones. And they spoke different languages.

    Close to each other — but unable to hear.

    And this is where I first heard the phrase:

    “We live in an open marriage.”

    I didn’t understand at first what it meant for them.

    It turned out he was the one who suggested it. He found some app and asked her to try — to meet other people. Not as a couple, but separately.

    For her, it felt чуждо. Almost unacceptable.

    But they tried.

    And… somehow, it worked.

    She told me about the meetings — different people, very different stories. I won’t go into details. It’s too personal.

    But one detail stayed with me.

    At some point, they were meeting different people at the same time.
    And later, those same people started meeting each other.
    And from that, new relationships began to grow.

    The experience was different. Sometimes strange. Sometimes, probably painful.

    But they remained honest with each other.

    They still live together.
    Sometimes — on opposite sides of the city.
    But they always come back home.

    And they share everything they have.

    That’s how they try to feel alive again.

    I don’t know if it’s right or wrong.

    I just want to leave this here.

    As one of the ways people try to save themselves when almost everything inside is burned out.

    As another face of war.

    I think everyone will find something of their own in this.

    And me…

    I recognized myself in this story too clearly.

    The way time in the army can burn you from the inside,
    leaving on the outside a person
    in whom there is almost nothing alive left.

    And maybe the scariest part is not that war takes something away from you.

    But that it brings you back —
    already different.

    And you’re not even sure anymore
    whether you are still the person you used to be.
    queenslayerbee: peitho and astrea by thegodfather. one girl with eyes closed, illuminated by sunshine, wearing a sunray gold crown. another woman, obscured by shadows, behind her surrounding her neck with one hand and lightly touching her chest with another, with bright red nails. (trapped (house of providence))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    With this drabble, I'm all down with last year's Three Sentence Ficathon fics!

    Title: consumption.
    Fandom: Plecverse / Legacies.
    Character/Pairing: Josie Saltzman & Lizzie Saltzman.
    Rating/Warnings: M, grief.
    Summary: For the prompt: "The Vampire Diaries universe, any, the Merge."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    Josie won; invention and creativity account for a lot, but raw power, years of resentment and desperation to live took this round.

    After, Josie isn’t her best: she’s guilt-ridden, heartbroken, which makes her mean-spirited –people who will always look for the Lizzie inside her see in this an echo of the dead; though her mother never misattributes blame, that relationship is irreparably altered nonetheless.

    Sometimes, Josie acknowledges that this sharp tongue was hidden beneath eager smiles all along; others she embraces the delusion of the Merge: she carries her twin with her, forever comfortably hidden behind Lizzie’s large, incandescent presence.

    music roundup: april 13th-14th

    Apr. 15th, 2026 08:06 pm
    pantoneocean: (Default)
    [personal profile] pantoneocean
    WE'RE... SO BACK?????
    i mentioned this in an earlier post of mine to my dedicated fanbase of one user, but i am bringing back the music roundups in a different format!!! i've started rounding up my discord friends and acquaintances and listening to music i think is interesting in a voice call with me streaming the music and that's gotten me to listen to exponentially more music than i had in the 3 months i spent getting high as fuck listening to grouper slowed and reverbed. i think this is a much more productive way of listening to things, and yadda yadda cataloguing thoughts on music that i've listened to, yadda yadda, my fan knows this

    april 13th )

    april 14th )

    cool
    queenslayerbee: Mia Dearden winking and making finger guns with both hands. (mia dearden (dc comics))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    Another Three Sentence Ficathon drabble from last year.

    Title: a place and a calling.
    Fandom: DC comics / Batman: No Man's Land.
    Character/Pairing: Helena Bertinelli.
    Rating/Warnings: T, none.
    Summary: For the prompt: "DC Comics, any Gotham based character(s), home."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    Helena had fought for Gotham, killed for Gotham, nearly died for Gotham; she’d covered herself with its grime and watered its soil with her blood and her tears until she had barely a breath left, and finally found a place of rest at its heart, landing herself in one of Leslie’s camp’s beds.

    There, in Crime Alley, her efforts barely received any recognition, no expressed gratitude beyond a silent stare, and the passing appreciation of a fleeting kiss, but that was all immaterial: Gotham was open to the world once again, life moved along.

    And Helena had Gothamites to teach.

    queenslayerbee: Encarna covers her head partially with a veil, dressed in black, to offer a poisoned apple to Blancanieves after she’s finished in the bull ring. Everything in the image is in black and white, like in the film, but everything except encarna is blurred, and the apple looks crimson red. (encarna (blancanieves))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    When I first watched (part of) the show this ship took over my life, I couldn't believe there was a prompt for it in the 3SF lol.

    Title: sweet as poison.
    Fandom: Wynonna Earp.
    Character/Pairing: Rosita Bustillos/Waverly Earp.
    Rating/Warnings: T, none.
    Summary: For the prompt: "Wynonna Earp, Waverly/Rosita, poison kisses."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    Rosita won’t forgive herself for not seeing it coming a mile away; for not realising that sun-bright smiles and honey-sweet kisses, and the words of kinship born from a mutual desire to see the world, impossibly, beyond this cesspit of a town… they would all come to amount to shit.

    It all came crashing down, spectacularly so, the moment Wynonna Earp showed her that cursed gun and issued her threat; then, Rosita knew she’d been sold out, considered unworthy of protection by even the nicest person in town.

    No good deed goes unpunished. She should have fucking seen it coming.

    queenslayerbee: the white silouettes of three women in a circle on the grass with the sky behind them, with their arms raised to it and their heads thrown back, as if performing a summon. the image blends with black smoke that raises from the ground. (coven (the wicked witches of trickstown))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    One more Buffy drabble for the Three Sentence Ficathon 2025.

    Title: spark.
    Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
    Character/Pairing: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg.
    Rating/Warnings: T, none.
    Summary: For the prompt: "BtVS - Willow/Tara, Magic tingles."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    If magic, that tingling sensation of possibilities at the tip of her fingers, was the best feeling Willow had ever experienced, getting to practice it with Tara felt beyond magic.

    Each and every time they met one another in either of her dorms, it was as if Willow was getting away with something; something that was meant for her and her alone; something to be kept warm and close, giving it refuge within her ribcage so it couldn’t be ripped away.

    Oz’s return almost knocked it all sideways, but even there, in the end… magic is meant to keep on.

    queenslayerbee: Mia Dearden winking and making finger guns with both hands. (mia dearden (dc comics))
    [personal profile] queenslayerbee
    More Three Sentence Ficathon fics from last year!

    Title: the storm before the storm.
    Fandom: DC comics / Robin.
    Character/Pairing: Stephanie Brown (& Bruce Wayne).
    Rating/Warnings: T, none.
    Summary: For the prompt "Batman, Batman & Robin(s), a Robin (or a few Robins) under Batman's cape."
    Word count: 100.

    read more
    -

    “You’ve gotta be fuck- fudging kidding me?” Steph said when a goddamn hailstorm started; she instantly regretted veering tracks –a hailstorm merited a fuck!–, but the glare through those white lenses made her feel like a misbehaving child.

    Batman didn’t make any indication to move from his post; so there Steph remained, unwilling to give him an excuse to take Robin away, covering herself with her arms and lamenting what the humidity would do to her hair.

    Then, wonder of wonders, she felt the weight of the cape cover her, protecting her from the sky’s projectiles; she smiled, finally warm.

    An Update from April 2026

    Apr. 8th, 2026 06:51 pm
    computerghost: (Default)
    [personal profile] computerghost
    CW: pretty negative.

    I was going to be here more actively and respond to stuff, but my mental health has been awful since lowering my Vyvanse. I don't think withdrawals are the reason anymore. I don't know. I've been feeling like I'm barely holding on.

    attention, freaks, it's me

    Apr. 8th, 2026 07:34 am
    pkkiai: (足立レイi feel fantastic)
    [personal profile] pkkiai
    i'm alive! wow!

    I didn't mean to abandon this blog. Just been busy, I guess? Um. I got a girlfriend and the first thing I made her do was watch the entirety of Marble Hornets with me lmfao. She loved it. I'm over the moon. I never thought I'd be able to share my Slenderverse interest with someone like that.

    We went to Anime Boston together and had a blast. I took her to the hololive karaoke party and we waved our plushies around in the air. That was the first hololive event I attended in person and I'm really glad I got to experience it with her. I met some cool otaku, too. The guy next to me was like, "I'm surprised you still have a voice" at the end of the show since I screamed so much lmao. It was so much fuckin fun... we also cosplayed Stan and Kyle from South Park. We went to Wendy's in our costumes and some guy asked me for my number. You ever been hit on by a guy while you're cosplaying cartoon kid characters with your girlfriend? It's funny. I wonder if he'll think of us whenever he sees South Park now, I'm assuming he isn't huge on the show since he erroneously called me Kyle... and this employee at the local Walgreens was totally fangirling over our cosplays lmao.

    I'm rambling. I just had fun!!! I've been doing great mentally, too! wow! I wanna write here again so bad, I have so many thoughts on internet horror shenanigans that I wanna jot down... we will see...

    Need

    Apr. 8th, 2026 12:34 am
    therealtrash: Nia standing, staring into ur soul (From the I can't sleep YouTube Channel) (Default)
    [personal profile] therealtrash
    For a while now, all I could think about was you. It was a feeling I couldn't control. I was addicted, obsessed, I wanted to wear you like you were my own skin, I wanted to spend the whole day looking at you. How can love hurt so much? I don't recognize myself anymore, I don't care about what's happening in my life anymore. I started living only for you. I was sick, sick of you. You were my drug. But I had time to refresh my mind and focus on myself. But now... all I can think about is you again. I don't like this feeling, but it's pleasurable. It's an easy dopamine rush, I forget about myself, I forget about my shitty life, to focus on you. I don't know... what to do.
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