#I understand you wanna make your coin but for the love of god take a little bit of pride in your work

[aluria-sevhex]

HELL FUCKING YESSSSSSSS

hey if you wanna read all of my posts as i play through ISAT, they are all tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

notes:

-aight i'm back yippee

-title theme my beloved

-i always find it so funny when an enemy tries to freeze Mira

-gonna try this boss again

-ok i think i'll just replay Floor 3 on this loop instead of looping forward after i find out another one of Bonnie's favorite foods so i can build up everybody's stats

-OH. BONNIE OVERHEARD THE DEATH CONVERSATION.

-heh Bonnie slapped Siffrin

-uh... the audio is REALLY ominous...

-oh, Bonnie...

-WAIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DID I JUST LOOP SLIGHTLY BACK IN THE PAST?

-Siffrin you ok i don't think that was helping ur mental health issues your eye is covered in shadow in your dialogue portrait

-i will once again NOT kill Siffrin via anaphylaxis. i will take the fish head

-...i didn't. get info on Bonnie's favorite foods this time.

-ok according to the save screen that didn't count as a loop

-anyway time to try looping to get the Bonnie snack info

-hey... the Tear dialogue isn't as silly anymore (it just says yes or no without the 'looping time' or 'living time')

-hey i didn't skip any loops this time!

-time to kill this pair of assholes again

-"carry my ashes with you" aw that's a sweet dialogue option

-i am so tempted to kill Siffrin. but i won't.

-awwww... i talked to Bonnie and now Sif is comforting them

-ok how the fuck do i get the info. BONNIE PLS.

-hold up. does Siffrin no longer nod when zoning out? :((((

-WAIT FUCK DID I FORGET TO GET THE KEY ON FLOOR 2.

-...Mira's roommate. was learning to make bombs. why???

-lol Isa knows how to make a bomb

-Mira has anti-anxiety meds. this makes a lot of sense tbh

-...what are these papers for???

-so i decided to try using the silver coin since a person said that you can do something with it related to the croissant lore. and it said "you think about the Incident" or smth like that lol

-lol Sif forgot the term 'stuffed animal'

-idk why but it feels like a lot of Craft skills are like. slower. or have bigger cooldowns in Act 3. even tho i KNOW they don't and my brain is fucking with me

-ok the game accounted for the key thing

-in the bathroom again

-Sif is calming themself again and figuring out what to do

-Siffrin, self-loathing and calling yourself stupid won't help :(

-i zoned out at some minor dialogue but i don't remember what the dialogue was the first time so i am fucking clueless about what was going on with a choice i made. sorry Mira idk why i 'saved you' by smacking your mouth ;_;

-i love getting to obliterate weaker Rock enemies with Paper α V

-i have now gotten Sif to level 60

-sometimes it's nice to take a break and talk to Loop

-wait a sec. doesn't one of the lower floors have a sharpening stone?

-ok it's been a while and now i have everybody back to level 52. time to kick the asses of the 3rd floor boss

-ooo Odile got a new skill

-time for the last snack break!

-Bonnie's upset now because i didn't try the fritters D:

-time to face the King again... and hopefully talk to him

-welp. *that* didn't work

-oh nvm now i can ask him questions via the Craft menu!

-you. you can give the King the flower.

-yeah the characters have a point! why Vaugarde specifically?

-the King is NOT responsible but he says Siffrin has an odd smell. huh... the only other things where an odd smell has been noted is Bonnie saying the star crest Sadnesses smell odd... but if Sif had that smell then it would've been noticed sooner...

-dude. how rude to say that if Siffrin doesn't understand Time Craft they can't understand the King's methods. maybe i should read more on Time Craft in one of the libraries? or that one book on craftonomy...

-the "you have heard this before" for zoning out got more and more annoyed

-once again. what does the King need to say?

-hm i was talking to Odile and Bonnie piped in really excitedly that they have more pineapple in their pocket

-GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MIRABELLE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU STOPPED ISA'S CONFESSION ToT

-time to talk to Euphrasie and loop again ig

-hey what's that in her hair?

-"you inhale sharply, almost choking on the smell of burnt sugar around you" BURNT SUGAR BURNT SUGAR THAT'S THE SMELL OF TIME SHENANIGANS AS SEEN WITH THOSE SADNESSES

-SAY SOMETHING ELSE EUPHRASIE

-how do i get the familytale?

-ok i talked to Odile and i'm gonna help her!

-am i gonna have to go all over town for this?

lmao yeah i think i will

-oh hey the wizard-loving kid is named Manon

-oh my god. i have to go back to the boulanger

-FINALLY

-:O THERE IS NO RESEARCH???

-oh THAT'S why Odile is in Vaugarde

-oh... her mom left... all of her travels here have been to try to reconnect with that part of her...

-HEY SIFFRIN I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING WHERE THE *FUCK* ARE YOU FROM?

-damn. bro has amnesia

-LMAO I ASKED MIRA ABOUT THE PAPERS AND THE BATTLE THEME STARTED

-...bonding proposals???

-oh my god Mira joined a dating website group

-"we have one of those at home"

-"oh, i don't have a type! i like all kinds of people equally!" is this in a bi way or an aro way

-YEAH AROMANTIC REPRESENTATION

-DIVERSITY WIN! THE KICKASS HANDMAIDEN WHO'S IMMUNE TO BEING FROZEN IN TIME AND THE SORT-OF CHOSEN ONE IS ARO!!! I FUCKING CALLED IT YEAHHHHHHHH :D

-oh, Mira :( you're not the problem you don't have to do anything like that you're not comfortable with

-hm this game is dealing with personal identity a lot

-:( :( :( oh, Mira...

-DIVERSITY WIN!!! THE SKETCHY WANDERER STUCK IN A TIME LOOP WITH MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS IS ACE!!!

-MY BLORBOS ARE ACE AND AROACE FUCK YEAH I AM SO HAPPY

-FUCK IT I'M POSTING NOW

SERIOUSLY THO I DON'T THINK I CAN ACCURATELY CONVEY HOW FUCKING HAPPY THIS PART IS MAKING ME. TWO OF MY FAVORITES ARE ACE AND AROACE HELL FUCKING YES

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 5

Thank you for all the great responses to this story it really means a lot.

Now they are doing a singing thing in this chapter, it's not that chapter yet. This is a prelude to that. Plus, I wanted to have Steve sing "Somebody' by Depeche Mode off the same album him and Lauren were talking about in the last chapter. Change the pronouns and it's definitely about all things Steve loves about Eddie.

I also added Lauren singing "Here Comes the Rain Again" from the suggestion in the poll because it's such a great song.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Steve questioned the wisdom of going out to a bar their first day in Ashland, tired as both Eddie and he were. But at the same time it was also nice to get out and just have fun.

Apparently Danny’s brother Hal ran the joint so Lauren, Eddie, and he could come in. As long as they didn’t try and get booze they were fine to do anything else. Pool, darts, and even a little stage for people to sing.

Hal told them that he tried to get one of those newfangled karaoke machines but that they were on back order until Christmas. But they were more then welcome to sing their heart out to jukebox in the corner.

Lauren got up there and sang Here Comes the Rain Again by the Eurythmics.

“Falling on my head like a new emotion,” she crooned, just as low and melodic as Annie Lennox. “I wanna walk in the open wind. I wanna talk lovers do. Want dive into you ocean, is it raining with you?”

“Are all you Munsons talented in the music department?” Steve asked Eddie as he watched Lauren continue to belt out the song.

Eddie laughed. “No. I don’t know about my dad, but Wayne can’t carry a tune to save his life.”

“Maybe he’s talented in other ways,” Steve said with a wink. “Who taught you how to play guitar?”

Eddie ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “He did.”

“Uh huh,” Steve said with a grin. “And who bought you your first guitar?”

He sighed. “He did.”

“Sounds to me like he’s a good teacher if nothing else,” Steve finished with a grin.

“God you’re so annoying when you’re right,” Eddie huffed.

“That’s because I rarely am and so when that happens, I get to gloat.”

Lauren came bouncing back to the table. “Who’s next?”

“Toss you for it?” Steve said.

“You’re on.”

Eddie pulled out a quarter. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Steve watched as the coin sailed into the air and Eddie deftly catch it in his large hand. He slapped in on the top of his other hand.

“Tails!’ Eddie crowed. “You’re next, pretty boy!”

Steve leaned over and looked at the coin. He rolled his eyes and marched over to the jukebox, beginning to pour over the choices. He picked one and walked up to the stage.

He grabbed the microphone as the first notes came through the tinny jukebox speakers.

Eddie watched in awe. He had never heard Steve sing. Not really, fooling around in the car and being annoying for the kids wasn’t the same as what he was seeing in front of him.

“Did you know he could sing like that?” Lauren asked, not taking her eyes off the stage. “God, he could make money off that voice.”

Eddie could only agree. “I’ve never heard him like this.”

“She will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in and life in general,” Steve sang, his eyes half closed as he leaned into the microphone, one hand raised. “Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted she’ll hear me out and won’t easily be converted to my way of thinking. In fact, she’ll often disagree, but at the end of it all she will understand me.”

Lauren looked over at Eddie. “You know this is on that album him and I were talking about earlier. The Depeche Mode one.”

Eddie turned to her. “The one with the song he listened to a billion times?”

She nodded. “It’s called Lie to Me. It’s where the album title comes from. That girlfriend, the one with the dead friend, she really fucked him up, didn’t she?”

Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t there for that. We didn’t become friends until way after that. But yeah, I’m beginning to see exactly how much she fucked him up.”

She looked up at Steve crooning the last lines of the song. “Do you think if the world was different he would have changed the pronouns of the song?”

Eddie looked back at Steve as he bowed to thunderous applause. “You know, think he just might have.”

He stood up and greeted Steve with a hug. “Holy shit, man. That was amazing. Where did you learn to sing like that?”

Steve just blushed. “It’s your turn now.”

He went up to Hal and whispered something to him. Hal nodded.

Eddie got on stage and Hal came from behind with a small amp and a black-bodied electric guitar. He handed the guitar to Eddie and then began fiddling with the amp.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie said into the microphone. “Some of you might remember me, I’m Hal’s nephew, Eddie and I play metal.”

He started the opening riff to Run to the Hills and belted out the lyrics. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, Steve and Lauren with them.

Steve was cheering and laughing. It was nice to see Eddie play again after that horrific spring break from literal hell.

As soon as he was done he handed the guitar back to Hal and stepped off the stage.

“You are a beast, Eddie Munson,” Steve said, pounding him on the back when he got back to their table.

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth to hide his blush. “Thanks.”

Steve ordered another round of sodas for them as they got to talking about their musical influences and who they would love to meet.

It hit ten o’clock and Hal was ushering them out as well as couple other under-aged kids who were there playing darts.

Once they hit the pavement Steve asked about it.

“Anyone under twenty-one always gets kicked out at ten,” Lauren explained. “It’s always been one of Uncle Hal’s rules since he bought this place when I was ten.”

Eddie nodded. “He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt for when the alcohol really starts flowing.”

“Too bad the funeral wasn’t next week,” Lauren said, shoulder checking him. “Then you could’ve stayed later.”

“Your birthday is next week?” Steve asked. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Eddie blushed.

“Because this weirdo doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday,” Lauren teased.

“Look,” Eddie said, “having a summer birthday sucks, okay? Especially if all you have is school friends who don’t give you their phone numbers or their addresses so you can invite them. And by the time you get old enough for that not to be a problem, you just don’t care anymore.”

Steve nodded. “I can understand that. My parents never really celebrated birthdays and by the time I got friends that wanted to celebrate, I learned very fast that it was for my big house and the expectation of an even bigger party.”

“Ouch,” Lauren said with a wince. “Maybe you two should pick a date to be your birthdays and celebrate whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be the actual date you were born. A lot of people that have birthdays on holidays and on leap years do it that way.”

“Oohh,” Steve said to Eddie, “yours should be March 27th.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Then when would yours be?”

Steve thinks about for a moment. “Either 3rd or 12th of November I guess.”

“Why those dates?” Lauren asked looking between them in curiosity.

“The third is when I chose my found family over a life of peace,” Steve explained.

“And the 12th?” Eddie asked.

Steve scoffed and shook his head. “That was the day I knew I was meant for more in life then dodging bad parents, letting my friends be assholes, and smoking and drinking my life away. I didn’t realize it then, of course. But yeah, that day means a lot.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “Steve...”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t miss who I was.”

Lauren was even more confused because they seemed to be talking about something deeper than what was actually said.

“This has to do with all the bullshit Hawkins went through, right?” she asked. “The lab, the gas leak, the earthquake. That’s what you’re talking about?”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and nodded.

“Something like that,” Eddie confirmed.

*

The next morning while Steve was on the phone with Robin, Lauren dragged Eddie into her room.

“Look, you don’t have to like the music,” she explained handing him a cassette tape.

Eddie looked at the tape. Some Great Reward by Depeche Mode, he sighed.

“But at least listen to it,” she said. “I have it queued to that song he mentioned, Lie to Me. Even if you don’t listen to the rest of it, I think you should hear that one. I think you’ll learn more about your friend.”

“Laurie...” he said with a sigh. “If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” she said. “Do you like his ex?”

Eddie reared back is head with a frown. Did he like Nancy? He guessed well enough. He had come to respect her, at the very least. He liked Steve more, sure. But yeah, if she called to go see a movie, he wouldn’t turn her down.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Lauren grabbed him by the arms and maneuvered him to sit on her bed. “I have known Steve for less than twenty four hours and I can already tell he’s the most self-sacrificing idiot since Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but she raised an eyebrow and he was forced to concede her point, waving his hand at her.

“So believe me,” she continued, “when I say that he hasn’t told you shit about what went down with his ex is because he doesn’t want to ruin things between you and her.”

Eddie nodded. “I know it’s a big fucking ask...” he sighed. “But see if you can find out what happened, maybe he’ll tell you and you can at least give me advice on how to navigate that mine field so I’m accidentally blowing up shit.”

Lauren nodded. “I can’t guarantee shit, but yeah, I’ll try.” She sat down next to him and leaned around to look him in the eyes. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Eddie clasped his hands together and nodded, pursing his lips.

“Does he know about your…certain proclivities?” She looked up at the door to make sure no one was around.

He did the same and then nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

“And he’s okay with that?” Lauren pressed.

“His best friend is gay and encouraged me to come out to him, too,” Eddie said. “He’s a really good dude.”

Lauren pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. “Are you in love with him?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

Then they heard running up the stairs and suddenly Steve was the door.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Penny told me to come get you both, she needs help preparing for the wake tonight.”

Eddie and Lauren shared a glance.

“We’ll be right there, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve nodded and dashed back down the stairs.

“Do you think he heard?” Lauren asked, staring at the place Steve was once standing.

Eddie just shrugged. He couldn’t have, could he? They heard him come up the stairs, after all.

Right?

***

Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Some people love having a summer birthday. Growing up, I most certainly did NOT. As for the dates Steve brings up Nov. 12 1983 is the day he chose to run back inside the Byers house and battle a demogorgon. Nov 3rd 1984 is when Dustin intercepts Steve's apology to Nancy to help him find Dart. Both are very significant to Steve in his journey to be a better person.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee

[scorpionrising]

there is love that doesn't have a place to rest — ch. 3

pairing: finan x fem!oc word count: 3556 content warning: this fic deals explicitly with the trauma of sexual assault. while there are no drawn out, graphic scenes, it is made explicitly clear what is going on. for context: oc is uhtred's daughter and was captive in dunholm for all her childhood. proceed with caution. additionally, expect canon typical attitudes, behaviors, violence, etc.

read on ao3

“i wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery and i can wish that all i want, but it won't bring us together plus, i know whatever happens to me, i know it's for the better" –phoebe bridgers, waiting room

A week had passed since her father left at the behest of King Alfred, and Ravna spent each day with Osferth in the woods, allowing him to teach her all about the Christian religion. She was not sure she believed any of it— a pregnant virgin was just a bit too absurd for her— but they made for good stories. She thought of the Romans, and the Greeks before them. How many different gods had they believed in? How many gods before them had been worshiped? For this reason alone, Ravna could not count anything out. Or could she believe in anything at all? 

“Monk! I had a thought,” Ravna said, finding Osferth in the alehouse. 

He was sitting with Finan, but she chose to ignore the other man. Osferth’s brows shot up upon seeing her. She did not make a habit of entering the alehouse, often finding it too loud and the men too abrasive. Osferth put down his mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You say your god is good, yes?”

“Uh, yes. He is all good, just as He is all powerful.” 

“If He is both, then how can He allow evil to exist?”  

This was what Ravna did not understand. She had long since accepted that her father’s gods, if they did exist, cared little for her. Her father’s gods never claimed to be all good. But Osferth’s god did. Osferth’s god positioned himself as a father who loved his children. If she was this all-good and all-powerful god’s child, she could not fathom why he allowed for her to be abused as she was. 

“He did not create evil,” Osferth said.

She scrunched her face at him. “But you said evil and sin comes from Eve eating the apple because Satan told her to, and Satan was created by God, was he not?” 

“But God also created free will. He does not control us, Ravna.” 

“If God created free will and bestowed it upon people with the option and opportunity for evil, then He created evil!” 

A few eyes were looking their way, certainly whispering about her outburst. Finan glanced around the alehouse and leaned across the table. 

“Hey, just take a breath now, ceann bheag.”

She rounded on him, eyes narrowed. What gave him the right to tell her to do anything? 

“I believe I was talking to Osferth, not you,” she hissed, relishing in the fact that he actually leaned back in shock from her ire being turned on him. Sniffing, she looked back at Osferth. “I do not find myself satisfied with your response. Think on it some more and find me in the morning with better answers.” 

Osferth cracked a smile, despite the uncomfortable tension between her and Finan.

“Are you hoping to convert, Lady?” Osferth asked teasingly.

“Maybe if I find you convincing enough,” Ravna responded in the same tone. She stuck her tongue out briefly and smacked the tabletop. “Right, then. I’m getting myself a drink.” 

Both men looked shocked, which she took some pride in. Still, it was rather annoying. But, if it took her sitting in the alehouse for hours on end and drinking until her vision blurred for them to see her as the grown woman she was, she would do it. She would show her father and Finan both. She had no need for a nursemaid. 

Coin purse in hand, she sidled up to the counter and held her chin high. Men were crowded all around her, but she refused to waver. She had something to prove. 

“Lady Ravna.” 

Ceolmund, the second son to the alehouse and tavern owners, stood behind the counter. His older brother, Alewulf, was somewhat of a warrior and had gone north with her father. 

“Hello,” she said. “I would… like a pitcher of ale, please.” 

Ceolmund’s smile was a bit crooked. “You drink with your father’s men, lady?”

She pursed her lips. “And what of it?”

“I am surprised,” he said. 

Then, he looked around and leaned in, beckoning her closer. Confused, Ravna complied. Ceolmund’s lips brushed along her ear and she bit back a gasp in surprise. 

“Tonight is the full moon, Lady. When the moon is at its peak, come to the mouth of the river so you need not drink with your father’s men.” 

She pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “What happens tonight?” 

He grinned ear to freckly ear. It would be a bitter lie to say she was not intrigued. 

“Us young people get to live,” he said. 

“Very well,” Ravna said. “I will join you.”

“Good!” He smacked the counter for good measure. “I’ll go get your ale now, Lady.” 

When she returned, she must have been grinning as well. Osferth’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead and he turned to Finan, who was staring at Ravna with his mouth agape. 

“What?” she asked. 

“What did he say to you?” Osferth asked. 

“Nothing,” Ravna said simply, pouring herself a mug of ale. 

“No, he said something!” 

She rolled her eyes. “Osferth, I am allowed to have friends other than you, no?” 

He deflated a bit and took a deep sip from his mug. Smirking to herself, Ravna poured some ale from her pitcher into his now empty cup. With a grin, he knocked his mug against hers and they took large gulps in tandem. Finan looked decidedly put out. Good, she thought, not feeling guilty in the least. 

The ale was strong, but she knew it would be. Her father encouraged Ceolmund’s father to brew it the way Danes did, as Saxon ale was often so weak. Ravna’s head was spinning a bit, but she found she did not mind it. She quite liked the feeling, actually. With Osferth’s aid, she drank the entire contents of the pitcher rather quickly. Delighting in the way the whole world around her seemed to tilt as she stood up, Ravna placed her palms on the table to steady herself as she giggled shrilly. 

“I… am going to…” She trailed off, losing the thought. “Oh! Yes, I will get more ale.” 

Finan grabbed the now empty pitcher and pulled it out of her reach. “Perhaps not, Lady.”

Annoyed but less angry than before— thanks to the ale, in all likelihood— Ravna turned on Finan. Feeling her lips curling into a grin, she snorted and lunged for the pitcher, but he was too quick for her and pulled it further away. 

“Finan,” she said shortly, rolling her eyes, “I am grown. I am no child, and you are no nursemaid.” 

He reared back as though she had struck him, and it granted her the opportunity to steal back the pitcher. Clutching it to her chest, she swiveled around to go back to the counter, but Ceolmund was already a few paces away. 

“Lady Ravna,” he greeted, walking to meet her where she stood. “I’m off now. Would you like me to accompany you on your way?” 

Blood rushed to her face, pooling in her cheeks. A bit carelessly, she tossed the pitcher aside and nodded. 

“That would do,” she said. 

He grinned quite charmingly and offered her his arm. 

“Oi!” Finan interrupted. “What’s this about?” 

“Ceolmund is accompanying me on my way so I do not need to walk alone in the dark,” Ravna said, cocking her head to the side. “Do you find that unacceptable, Finan?” 

Osferth was hiding a grin behind his hands and very pointedly looking away from Finan. Finan, however, seemed downright perplexed and his face was turning a bit red; dark eyes obscured by the scrunch of his eyebrows. When he did not respond, Ravna turned back to Ceolmund, victorious, and took his arm. 

“So, will you tell me now what it is that you’re bringing me to?” 

“Revelry,” Ceolmund said simply. 

And revelry indeed it was. With a large fire going and bodies milling about, Ravna thought back to the many festivities held over the years at Dunholm in honor of the gods. While these were Christians around her, they were not so different. 

“We drink mead instead of ale here,” Ceolmund said. “Beatrice makes it with the honey from her father’s bees.” 

Ravna nodded, amazed by the sight before her. In her years of living in Coccham, how had she been so vastly unaware of this happening every month? Since she mostly kept to herself, there were a great many people she realized she did not know as unfamiliar faces swam past her. Even Beatrice, who Ceolmund was still talking about, Ravna did not know. She felt bad for it, as clearly everyone knew who she was. 

“Lady Ravna!” 

Sybil, the blacksmith’s daughter, ran over with a wild grin on her face, a crown of flowers askew on her head. Of the people in the village, Sybil was perhaps one of the only people outside of Ravna’s family that she would consider a friend. Even then, she was unsure. 

“Sybil, I’ve said many times, you need not call me Lady,” Ravna said. She glanced at Ceolmund and bowed her head. “Nor do you, friend.” 

Sybil reached out and grabbed both of Ravna’s hands. “Well, Ravna, you must come join me for a dance!” 

Ravna did not even have the chance to respond before Sybil pulled her away from Ceolmund. Though there was no music, aside from three men who were hardly more than boys drunkenly singing, those who were dancing around the large bonfire seemed to have a tune in their minds. Giggling, Ravna twirled around Sybil as the two of them created their own tune. 

“I’m quite pleased you’re here!” Sybil said, swiping a mug from a young man’s hand and taking a deep sip. “You must join us more often.”

She offered out the mug and Ravna took it. The mead was delightful, far superior to any ale she ever had. It tasted of honey and fruit and spices; it tasted of the gods. 

“I would like that,” Ravna said, now used to the buzzing feeling the drink gave her. “It might be hard once my father returns.” 

“It is the same for the rest of us,” Sybil said. “Many of our fathers joined yours, and we do this with our freedom!” 

Sybil flung her arms out and spun around freely. It amazed Ravna. The looseness, the recklessness, the carelessness. It was all she ever wanted to be. She drank until she was stumbling over her own feet, but Ravna was unsure if she could say she ever had such fun. 

Ceolmund found her some time later, just as drunk as she was. 

“Lady!” he said, all too loudly. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” 

On the very far depths of the horizon, Ravna could see the beginnings of sunrise, lightening the dark sky above. 

“Perhaps you could walk me back to town,” she said. 

“Of course, Lady.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ceolmund, please, I wish for you to only call me Ravna.” 

They walked hand-in-hand, tripping over one another, their own feet, and tree roots alike. The village center was deserted entirely by the time they finally found their way back. For some reason unknown to her, Ravna was giggling loudly and constantly. Ceolmund did not seem to mind, however, and instead grinned at her with that crooked smile of his. She stopped to stare at him, and perhaps count the freckles on his face. There were a great many, and she was fascinated by them. 

“Ravna,” he whispered, “may I kiss you?” 

It was perhaps because no one had ever asked her that question before that she did say yes. Ceolmund was not the most experienced or skilled of kissers, but him asking her permission made it the best kiss of her life. She curled a hand around the back of his neck and clutched him close, letting her bodily knowledge take over. 

They stumbled back against a tree, his hands roaming all over her body and lips trailing down her neck. This, she thought, was what being young was for. She clutched his curls in hand while his fingers fumbled for the strings on her breeches. She giggled some more, but this time it came out as half a moan. 

“Ceolmund,” she whispered, tugging at the root of his hair. “We’re too exposed.” 

The mere fact that he paused and pulled away from her to look around almost made her want to drop to her knees and push all fears of being caught aside. But to do so, would be to act like a child. She wanted to be treated like the woman she was, so even in her drunken haze she knew she could not. Not right now, at least. 

“Yes.” He sighed, chest heaving. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Anyone could stumble upon us,” she reasoned. 

But, then, she kissed him again. She kissed him over and over and over again until the sky turned orange with sunrise. Drunkenness abating and replacing itself with a throbbing head, Ravna began to pull her hands from Ceolmund’s hair. 

“I should return home,” she mumbled against his lips. 

“That would be for the best,” he agreed, still kissing her. 

She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip and forced herself away. She did not look back at him as she walked home. If she did, it was likely her self restraint would fall apart, and she really needed to be home before Gisela awoke to tend to Stiorra, who always rose with the sun. 

Another week passed, and Ceolmund, who was not so interesting or smart as he seemed that night of the full moon, proved himself to be a kind young man who was undoubtedly fond of her and never tried to touch her more than she liked him to. (It was the kindest a man had ever treated her, so it surely meant something.) Unable to deny the fact that she liked it when he kissed her, even when she was not mind numbingly intoxicated, she found herself sneaking around to press her lips to his at any given opportunity— which naturally led to her pressed up against the back of the alehouse with his hands creeping up underneath her tunic. And that was when and how Finan found them. 

“Oi!” 

The brogue was undeniable, forcing them to separate at the sound of his voice alone. Lips wet and swollen, Ravna cursed quietly. Ceolmund looked as though he were about to shit his breeches. 

“What do ya’ think yer doing?” Finan barked, marching over to them and grabbing Ceolmund by the collar of his tunic.  

“Nothing,” Ceolmund said loudly. “We were doing nothing!”

“That’s your lord’s daughter, boy,” Finan said.

“Y-yes, I— I know.” 

Ravna groaned. She was well aware of her father’s orders to Finan to keep her safe and make sure she was well, but this was absurd. 

“Finan,” she said, wrenching his hand away from Ceolmund, “let him go!” 

When his fingers released the fabric, Ceolmund stumbled backwards and then began to run. She rolled her eyes and rounded on Finan. 

“What is wrong with you?” she screamed, flinging her hands into the air. “He was doing nothing wrong!”

“Oh, he was doing plenty wrong, lady,” Finan said. 

“How is what he was doing any different from what you do to the women in the tavern?” 

He stared at her in shock, but she was not finished. 

“And how is what I was doing any different from what those women do to you? I am a woman, Finan, not a girl! I know very well what that was. I am not stupid, nor am I the naive child everyone believes me to be!” 

Seething, she stomped in the opposite direction Ceolmund ran. She needed to be far away from everyone, Finan especially. How dare he embarrass her like that? Who did he think he was? Her hands shook in her anger, vision blurring at the edges. She was unsure whether she wanted to scream or sob more, so she would go into the woods and do both. She would beat her knuckles bloody on the tree bark if she desired. 

Her fury remained. She stood at the riverside, throwing rocks as far as she could to force it to leave her. A twig snapped behind her and then there was the telltale rustle of leaves. She gritted her teeth and let out a groaning shout as she threw another rock. She would not acknowledge him. She refused. He would have to come to her and force himself into her line of sight. 

“I apologize, ceann bheag. I should not have grabbed the boy like that.”

How she hated that nickname now. Less than a month ago, she found it sweet. Little one. Now, she knew what it meant. She was a small child, and always would be. Tears of anger and resentment flooded her eyes, stinging in the wind as she tried to hold them back. She sniffed and sat down on the embankment, knees pulled to her chest. She closed her eyes as she heard Finan move closer and sit down beside her. 

“You’ve barely spoken to me since your father left, ya’ know,” Finan said. 

Ravna pursed her lips. 

“And I don’ know why,” he continued. “Seems like ya’ will talk to anyone an’ everyone but me.” 

Anger getting the best of her, she snapped, “I heard you, you idiot!” 

Her cheeks were wet, the tears finally having spilled out. A deep crease appeared between Finan’s eyebrows.

“The day before my father left, I heard what you said to him,” Ravna elaborated. “And you were right, Finan. I do not take kindly to it.” She swiped at her face and sniffled loudly. “I do apologize for being such a burden when I was foolish enough to believe we were friends.” 

He swore in a low voice, more a grumble than words, and ran a hand over his beard. She watched him from the corner of her eye, wanting to turn to him but wanting to be steadfast more.

“Ravna,” he said quietly, softly. “Ya’ never should’ve heard that.” 

“And yet,” she muttered, a bitter and sour taste in her mouth. 

“I do not think ya’ to be a burden.” His voice was gentle and slow, as though he were trying to find his footing. 

“What do you think of me, then?” she asked, finally turning to look at him fully with blazing eyes. “Because I do not think you see a woman.”

“Well, I don’ see a man!” 

She rolled her eyes, curbing the urge to kick him. 

“You know quite well that is not what I meant!” 

She shot up and moved to stomp away, but got up just as fast and grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away. His hand had a tight grip on her, just above the crook of her elbow. 

“What ya’ need to understand is, on the ship all your father talked about was his little girl who had been taken from him.” 

She was not proud of the manner in which she gasped— both at his touch and the subject of the slave ship being raised. Neither he nor her father ever spoke of their time enslaved, and she could not blame them. How often did she discuss her time at Dunholm, after all? 

“And that’s what ya’ were when I met ya’!” 

“But I am no longer a child!” she exclaimed. 

“No,” he agreed solemnly. “Yer a woman, to be sure, and ya’ have been since the time ya’ stepped foot in Coccham.” 

“Then why do you all continue to treat me as one?” She glared up at him, furious. “You likened yourself to a nursemaid and begged my father to change his mind. If you are so unhappy here, I grant you leave to join my father. Go! If you wish it, go, and I will hold no anger in my heart.”

“Lady,” he said, “I would not do that.”

“Why? Because my father asked you to?”

“Because I care about ya’!”

She watched as his eyes crinkled at the corners and his hand not holding her arm lifted, perhaps of its own accord judging by the shock in his eyes, to take hold of her face. The calluses on his palms, made from years of training with swords and pulling oars, were rough against her cheek, but she was too preoccupied by her surprise at the sudden touch to care. 

“You’re not just Uhtred’s daughter. You’re far more than that.” 

His hand slipped past her cheek to cradle the back of her head, and then he pulled her into a tight hug. Sniffling once more, she tucked her face into his chest and slipped her arms around his torso. After a moment, she pulled her arms away and took a large step backwards with a burning face. She really ought not to have allowed herself to step so close. It was inappropriate. 

“I am glad you see me as I am,” she said quietly. 

Above their heads, a cloud shifted and sent a bright beam of light directly upon Finan’s head. It illuminated him in a brilliant shade of gold, and she needed to look away from how bright he was, lest she do or say something absurd.    

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello sorry about the collei request it’s totally fine but maybe instead of collei it’s kanao from demon slayer

kanao x ror where they learn of her past and help her with the moving forward (ps can we have a shiva scene where he explains to his wives what happened and here like….where adopting them) along with gods and humans

Sorry if I’m being a bother I genuinely love your writing and I just want wholesome slightly angsty family fluff, it fine if ya don’t wanna take the request I completely understand hope you have a awesome day

-It was the day you went to Shiva’s house, trading homes with the different gods and warriors of Valhalla, after they had all adopted you after finding you.

-You were a Demon Slayer on earth, and you had been faced with a demon that was too much for you to handle, and your elder sisters arrived only shortly after, but were unable to save you.

-You were like a doll, barely responding to others, only when spoken to, and even then it was only short answers, like you were emotionally dead.

-This new family of yours was definitely odd, being so massive and full of so many different types of people, some personalities you had never dealt with before, like Loki, Buddha, and Zerofuku.

-It was a slow process, getting you healed physically, as mentally was going to take a long while, especially since Odin was able to snoop around, using his abilities, and found out what happened to you when you were only a child.

-Many were furious to learn that you had gone through such a traumatic childhood but were glad your sisters found you when they did, helping you and taking care of you, and now they were taking over that mantel.

-You hadn’t met Shiva’s wives before, and honestly you were a bit overwhelmed when Parvati instantly had you in her arms, rubbing her cheek against the top of your head, “You’re so cute!!”

-You allowed them to do as they wished, doting on you like a daughter, brushing your hair and asking you all sorts of questions.

-However, you barely spoke, just sitting there, you barely responded to them, your eyes dull as you fiddled with the coin in your hands, your comfort item.

-It wasn’t the same coin your sister had given to you, which you knew, and it did make you sad, but Zeus was the one to give you a new coin, telling you it wouldn’t ever replace your coin, but you were grateful for his kindness.

-After Ganesha managed to steal you away, holding your hand as he showed you through his papa’s massive gardens, Shiva spoke with his wives, who went to him, worried that you weren’t reacting about anything.

-A half hour later you found yourself looking up at Shiva who approached you, after you had been plowed down by his wives, all of them hugging you, wanting to help you.

-He reached down and patted your head gently, patting your forehead since you were looking at the sky, “Told you they were affectionate.”

-You nodded softly and surprised them all by speaking more than just a few words, “They are affectionate, but they are warm, like my sisters.”

-They didn’t baby you, nobody had babied you since when you first arrived, telling them that you were not a child, but they did dote on you, treating you like a child, their child, showering you with love and teaching you to just do things and have fun.

-Shiva was the one to kind of shock your system a bit, leading you to not rely on the coin so much, when he told you just to do what your heart wanted to do.

-He laughed when you leapt into the pool with him, all your clothes on but you stunned all when you gave them a shade of a smile.

-Shiva so lorded that over everyone else, that he got you to smile first!! It made going to Raiden’s house a bit more eventful when he was determined to show up his friend in making you happy!

[jojo-schmo]

Hello! I just discovered your roleswap comic and I'm eating it up, it's so gooooooood. I don't really ship MetaDede personally, but good gods the way you write them bickering and bantering and the near sync when shit gets serious makes me wanna scream in excitement ekdvsiehrhr

AND PRIMAL BANDANA DEE THO

Absolutely my favorite part of the swap. It just makes me crave for an actual Bandana Dee boss fight that actually does him justice. (also the Prince of Dreams/Beasts title itches something in my heart really well)

I'm not sure if it was intentional or if you even know who I'm talking about, but giving Bandana Dee a Scythe at some point (plus some wind abilities) really reminds me of General Gong the Hawkeye from Patapon, what with the whole high-ranking, scythe wielding, wind-adjacent thing. Probably just a coincidence tho, but I personally love it!

Hope to see the next update! :D

(P.S. while I was reading the comic, some of the links are broken or straight up missing. I'm reading from the Tumblr app so it's a bit of a hassle. Just thought I'd let u know :D)

Hello there!! Oh my goodness, what a wonderful ask, thank you so much for telling me all of this! As a person who thrives on Words of Affirmation, these types of comments mean absolutely everything to me. <3

If I may go on a tangent about the shipping thing because I'm glad you brought that up. It's a huge complement to hear you say that because-

The Roleswap comic is not a story about romance. But it is about love.

While I am a personal lover of metadede and it fueled my initial creation of this story, I want to take the Roleswap AU in a different direction from a story that's focuses on a ship where "the main characters act the way they do because they are in love or a couple." A "partnership" like theirs can possibly be interpreted as a build up to a romance. But it doesn't have to be! So there's no blatantly romantic interactions anywhere in this story like what may be found in my non-Roleswap, specifically metadede labeled content (Like kisses, confessions of love, etc.).

Dedede and Meta do love each other, like the other protagonists of Kirby love each other. Kirby, Bandana Dee, all the other Waddle Dees, the Meta-Knights, and the friends they've made over the years. The love between many of them has developed over the entire series! They've all come a long way from fighting each other to trusting one another and even having fun together!

I see the love between the Kirby protagonists as one where they care about and want the best for each other. They may not always understand the other's thoughts and motivations. But they respect them and learn to complement each other's differences. They protect each other in battle. They grow together and learn to bring out the best in each other.

So how could two very different and powerful authority figures like Dedede and Meta come together to save their friends and family, and navigate a huge world and an unknown conflict together? That's the main question I want to present in this story.

Whatever the interpretation of the King and Knight's relationship a reader may have, I'm most happy about the fact that this comic has readers!!!

Anyway!! Back to your ask! :D

Primal Bandana Dee means a lot to me too! The only reason this comic exists is because I also wanted a cool boss fight for him, and I had just finished playing Forgotten Land for the first time. It all just branched out from there. I wish I could just spill everything I have planned for him, but alas! I have a story with a set order to tell! I will say that if anyone is worried about not seeing him until the Winter Horns area, that he will make appearances before that. Just stay tuned!

And hey. This is an AU of an existing story. We know how the canon ending went already. To keep things interesting I have to include some surprises in my version down the line somewhere, right? ;)

I also haven't heard of Patapon so the resemblance between General Gong and Bandee is a coincidence! I did look it up and General Gong looks cool!! I respect scythe wielders, haha. Thanks for telling me! If this is a game I have the ability to play it could be fun to check it out!

New Roleswap update is coming soon! I feel bad that it's been about a month and I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger. But my personal and work life is slowing down enough for me to make more progress on the next pages! Our heroes will get out of the underground tunnel soon! :O

Maybe I can offer this behind-the-scenes peek of Dedede's internal monologue in the dark tunnel as a thank you for the patience?

Finally, big thanks for letting me know about the broken links! I'll sit down on my computer soon and clean up all the links. I sometimes post on mobile and sometimes on web so maybe that messed some things up.

But if anyone needs a non-tumblr reading experience, I've also hosted the story on Comic Fury for a simpler navigation! Link is in the pinned masterpost on this blog, but also here: https://forgottenlandroleswap.the-comic.org/

Thanks for reading this director's commentary! Toodle-oo!

[sol-shines]

@ your tags PLEASE talk abt your parker designs!!!

this is for you and @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars THANK YOU for enabling me :3 sorry this took a little bit

if you don't know what this is about i drew my takes on the parkers here !

rambles under the cut:

SO what i sorta wanted to do was make. each parker flow into the next while subtly changing in between ,,, something something losing yourself to the game, becoming unrecognizable. so let's cover it parker by parker:

prime: i personally Love the hc that the coin is parker's mom. so prime is a lil ancient roman coded guy. he's SOOOO eldest sibling coded help. like he and his mom have a very strained relationship but also he thinks that if he just does whatever she wants she'll finally be proud of him :P whoops! and yeah v explosive anger (firewalker reference!), leading to ego, leading to. You Know. anyway. oh ALSO the parkers get younger as we progress so :))) they all STARTED at 19 but have varying degrees of age. so prime is in his mid-thirties.

parker ii: AH the most elusive of the parkers. SO: in my personal lore interp, parker ii was created when prime starting to push back against the coin more and more to the point where it was becoming a problem. and prime of course is very destructive and makes a mess when he's angry. so ii came about from me going "...what if parker just. said fuck it and left. didn't give a shit about ego just didn't wanna play the game anymore and found a way out." and that's exactly what my ii did. absolutely fucking vanished and quit the game for good. somehow. which uhhh MIGHT have been what caused prime to go apeshit ("why does ii get to leave and i'm stuck here?") and end prehistory. whoops. so i wanted to make them look very vagabond-y. somehow got even edgier than prime (impressive). also they're abt 30-ish. and have crazy gender stuff going on. possibly transfem. "but how is that possible if you hc the parkers as transmasc-" shhh. i don't know <3

park3r: GOD i loved doing this one. this parker is such a bitch and i love him. the first commissioner parker, created bc "OKAY so we gotta make him more young and impressionable and less unstable AND take him out of this game bc very clearly Bad Things will happen if he stays" so they made. a chronically online teenager and made them commissioner AMDNFM. god yeah i love this design he's sooo. just a 19-year-old trying to fill an impossible role and putting on a cool face about it. tragic, yes. but they're gonna complain the whole time and make everyone else miserable too. fully believe he was just scared and out of his depth the whole trial :( oops why are parkers iii and iiii so sad. i drew him closer to mid-20s here but honestly he could easily be younger

p4rker: LOVE this guy's lore so my hc is that after the trial that killed park3r it was like "uhhhh FUCK we need a new one of those. stat." so. they just. took park3r's incin'd body (ik it's not really Canon that park3r was incin'd he just Died but. let me have this) and like. stitched it back together. so p4rker is covered in burns and stitched together like frankenstein all over, and they just threw a mask on them like "see!!! new guy!!" the result of this being they didn't have. a whole ton of time to add shit like Personality, so p4rker is the outlier in that they're very naive and even polite? they don't understand what all the fuss is about them and just wants to be. nice? shame he didn't stick around long :/ the drippy bits are a little percolation nod! in this particular drawing he's like 20 :(

pvrker is. obviously the least human. park3r was more of a prototype of a commissioner, p4rker was a temporary placeholder at best, pvrker... was well and truly made For The Game. and his appearance reflects that. kinda a combination of iii's bluntness and 4's naivety. in-universe some people think he's the most sinister or whatever bc he's so directly Controlled By ILB Shit and that's not NOT true but like. give him a break guys he's like 6 days old he's new at this :(

ANYWAY that's so long holy shit. here are my rambles i hope u like them. im So Bad at blaseball lore so someone yell at me if something i put in there isn't accurate but. yeag :)

[quixoticrobotic]

Question entirely on a whim - classpect the comicrew, go!

CLAPS MY HANDS TOGETHER LETS FUCKIN GOOO

i also have jaeris, joanna, erin, and allen bc sburb aus delight me i also have chumhandles, i can share those if you like

also i assume you want reasoning

Linkara: Knight of Mind. Hes such a knight of my god like insisting your fine when you arent? absolute knight behavior. i chose mind because one of my favorite aspects of linkara is hes like. the kind of character who needs to have a plan for everything which is usually a bad guy trait and is a trait you see in a lot of neurodivergent ppl so its nice to see in The Hero

but yeah a knight of mind would use logic and thinking as a weapon which linkara really enjoys doing

90s Dude: Mage of Hope

hope players represent! (im seer of hope!) but yeah hope is a broad term bc like lots of things can inspire it, hope plays typically have something they're really passionate about, something that sparks that ability to believe and like i dont have to say what 90's dude's is. he wears his passions on his sleeves, he gave us "more radical, less sadicle", the stuff that hes passionate about is his strength. mages are kinda like seers except less direct? instead of sharing knowledge to help the team they have this very personal, intuitive understanding of their aspect and how to wield it. fits the sleepwalker arc p damn well

Harvey: Prince of Time

every time i have to make a character i love a prince like i know you'd hate these pants im sorry

but ok i knew harvey would be a time player bc time is associated with music and death, two things that are very relevant to harvey as a character. i think i settled on this bc i saw a quote on pintrest "not living, just killin time" and harvey was the character i was fixated on that week. princes destroy their aspect/are destroyed by their aspect/destroy with their aspect. so if you wanna put a less gloomy spin on this you can go with "making up for lost time"

also i rarely get to have a session that has both a time and space player and thus isn't automatically doomed, which brings me to

Linksano: Seer of Space

multiverse and green. also seer fit since his official job on the team is science consultant like, he uses his knowledge of the multiverse to help his friends

Jaeris: Thief of Void

THIS IS ANOTHER MEAN ONE like thief bc of him stealing magic weapons BUT ALSO thief's tend to have a "my way is definitely the correct way of accomplishing this goal" and it bites them in the ass. i saw a theory i take whith a grain of salt but its basically void players tend to have their perspective skewed by some personal bias

and meanest of all

jaeris gets nothing. thieves take their aspect for themself. void is nothing. jaeris gained nothing. im so sorry space cowboy u make it too easy

Joanna: Witch of Doom

AW YEAH I GET TO TOUCH ON MY HEADCANONS ABOUT WHAT JOANNA IS LIKE

so doom is destiny, fate that cannot be changed. but this often represented by computer code/coding (which fits so neatly into the at4w 'verse tbh)

witches manipulate their aspect

now of course we know joanna sees the tapestry of fate and pulls out a seam ripper

but i also headcanon joanna is a cool gamer hacker babe who likes computers/ai/robots/ect. she and jaeris are a steampunk/cyberpunk power couple. also i like to think think by giving her one of the most OP classpects i'm making up for her lack of screen time

Erin: Rouge of Light

rouges allocate their aspect to help the team, light is luck, fortune, and fate that can be changed. fits Miss "Technically I was always your friend. Just in very weird and roundabout ways." who was introduced stealing the magic coin

Allen: Page of Life

im not gonna lie allen is mostly here so we have an even number of players. im sorry allen fans

i dont actually have a gt for mark bc linkara needs a strife specibus

and we cant have marksprite because PLEASE DO NOT PROTOTYPE THE EXTREMELY POWERFUL MAGIC WEAPON

[screampied]

hii pretty baby!!!!! HIGURUMA IS BACKKKKKK, omg i’m like ready to give him the biggest reward for coming back home. me and the kids missed him a lot 😔

yes, i have 5 dogs!! four of them are rescued or the children of ones my family rescued and passed away. but the one that murdered the pigeon is a pitbull. she is lovely and charming, and this is not at all a normal occurrence, but we think the pigeon got inside through our yard and she got scared. this reminded of my latest cat and how she would bring lizards and rats over, and give to my sibling, who might i add, has a phobia of those two animals. she was a lil bitch and i miss her everyday.

omg, i know right? like toji might be looking stinky sometimes, but that man’s wallet is as big and thick as his cock. he just likes to spend most of it with stupid bets, but he has money. give him a sugar baby, he just needs a new hobby! on god, i would’ve send you, but that shit flopped, i’m just waiting for a bit to see if it gets better, idk.

THE WORM DOESNT LOOK SOFT. it’s an ugly think, probably smells like trash and i’m gagging already. KINGSNAKES ARE SO CUTE!!! AND THE NAME??? adorable, gimme 14 of those.

toji would 1. be the happiest man alive, 2. be the saddest man alive. i fully believe he would go around and steal peoples money. like someone by his side got a large amount, next second they are dropped out on the floor and mr. toji just got the bowl of coins!

oh, makes sense. i’m not gonna lie i thought the vaseline would go somewhere more..well, you know.

five languages? you’re so cool!!!! and i love those languages name, so unique. i speak my native language, obviously, english, italian and bits and bits of korean. i can however understand spanish, french, and for some fucking reason russian? dad says i should be a linguistic because i have facility to learn languages. i think it’s cool, i want to go back to french (i used to speak as a infant because of my dad), and learn japanese.

question for today is sweet or salty food? and who do you think has the prettiest cock in jjk? i was wondering that these days and i fully believe is gojo.

OH, AND BY THE FUCKING WAY, I READ YOUR RECENT ONE…. WHAT WAS THAT? need suguru’s head glued to my pussy 😔

nut anon

NUTTY MCNUTSAR 🙆‍♀️

HIIIIII omg pookie i got sick again istg my immune system hates me like . i was dying in bed alllll day yesterday but we lived 🫡 YESSSS HIGURUMA’S BACK WE STAN. im so curious as to how he survived bc ????? but at least he’s safe 🙂‍↕️ now its sukuna n choso’s turn YAY.

you have five dogs :(((( ugh i love dogs. literally my comfort animal. i have three. i grew up around dogs my whole life aaaaughh. i wanna get a husky one day bc they r just so cute n i love their eyes sm. so cute 🥹🥹 i have a pit bull too but she’s mixed with black lab and she’s such a sweetheart. she’s the baby of the trio but she’s always getting into trouble </3 she loves going through my closet for whateverrrr reason.

not toji’s wallet as big and thick as his cock 💀. see !!!!!!!!! i try to tell my moots this all the time but they call me delusional for defending a broke man like WHAT. no one can go band for band w toji, he has a literal hell cat and stacks for days wbk !!!!!!!

STOPPPPP WORMYGURO’S SO CUTE :(((( i just wanna poke it. kinda reminds me of slime. WHY DO U HATE HIM SO MUCH HELPDOIGKH. personally, i think his worm would smell like roses :’)

LMAO UR SO RIGHT. and omg, i saw this video on twitter where this guy in new york runs up to someone on a train and steals their salad and runs away. why do i kinda feel like toji would do that to people in las vegas help 😭😭😭😭 he could steal my food any day <3

really …… what did you think i meant ……. 🧿 i would have said lip gloss too but yk its not a fashion show its survival so 🐩

thank youuuu !!!!!!! ackkk im learning italian also !!! im just taking a break tho but its such a pretty language, french also. korean omg you’re so cool, i wanna learn korean / mandarin one day. is korean hard? ouuugh i wanna learn russian also.

hmmmm i think i prefer sweet foods. prettiest cock in jjk, maybe gojo, suguru, or nanami

TEHEHEH THANKYOU FOR READING MWAH

[audible--silence]

Shrooms trip

I want someone else to make sense of me more than i can make of me

Shelter, food, comfort

Thats all that ya really need

Why am I thinking of Grace?

Is she my compass?

Why?

Does she even have a clue?

We’re all just collections of experiences and memories floating around this nonsense rock doing things till we inevitably arent

And in the middle of nowhere, disconnected from everything else, you dont need much. Simplicity is fine.

At least, if only for a little while

Criminal, how much should change for me and how much i should live, only to be faced with those i love, never changing or ever living more

A coin dropped, i always think im coming home.

This is only a time away. Everything i do I’m taking back home to tell to friends and show to family. What if me, now, out in the nowhere, is all there is? Im never going home? I’m starting again? god it feels so scary to think about all that ive made in twenty four years and to think about throwing that to the dirt

An odd age, 24 is.

Young enough to be a fool

Old enough to be a teacher

You thought you were good at chaos but you always need order. You need systems within chaos in order to feel safe. Is it hospo? Is it from dad? Is it from mum?

This is how i always wanted to feel

Awake, alive, thinking and considering

If there’s something in there causing you grief, remember that its in there anyway and the only way past it, is through

I wanna do shrooms w grace and w benj

This is how i wish i lived normally in day to day life with childlike curiosity and wonder, introspective intuition and warmth

“I can, so i do” - on kindness to strangers, with your old pal, barbecue andy

That phone screen is comfort and warmth for me

.

The old lady yelled at me from her humble, earthen home in the mountains

I didn’t understand a word she said

But i knew exactly what she meant

Pick up that banana peel

You had the good bit, you deal with the rest

Take pride in yourself

Treat your surroundings with respect

You’re visiting our land

Don’t disrespect us

Yes the banana might biodegrade

Yes theres bottles of tecate and plastic bags littering the floor

But the point remains

Do as your parents taught you and clean up after yourself

Treat the land well

Be a good guest

Be courteous

Check yourself

Think what you wish to be and act accordingly

Dont fucking stray.

She said. Loudly.

[kouros-herc]

Friday, November 11 -- Lo-Fi Beats to Be a Magick to: Create a playlist for a type of Magick in the Swynverse — you don’t have to have one in play! 

We are the ~~Muses~~ Goddesses of the Arts and proclaimers of heroes...

I just think they’re super neat expect to hear more about this later.

Long Ago / The Gospel Truth I

I couldn’t resist including this it’s just so good and it felt a fitting way to remind everyone how funky these characters are, I think they have the potential to be SO interesting (and hey we could do with a new Order in town) so now buckle up as I dedicate the remaining tracks to each of the Muses.

“You go girls”

Thalia, the Muse of Comedy - Funny Girl (Diana Ross & The Supremes)

“Yeah, the guy said, "Honey You're a funny girl" That's me I just keep them in stitches Doubled in half And though I may be all wrong for the guy I'm good for a laugh”

The gift of laughter can be such a double edged sword, beloved by so many but who really sees the person behind the jokes? So much room for interesting exploration here.

Calliope, the Muse of Epic Poetry & Heroes - Warrior Daughter (Wildwood Kin)

“For my armour keeps you safe

Ride ahead, you fight for what is yours So take your sword, protector of them all The heart may be a battle in its own Don't hesitate; you'll never be alone

You are a warrior Strength and courage lies within your heart”

I love this song so much and there is something wonderfully Homeric about the idea of the protective figure voiced in the song, like a goddess watching over their chosen warrior hero.

Terpsichore, the Muse of Dance - Circus/Just Dance (Boyce Avenue)

“I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins Spotlight on me and I'm ready to break I'm like a performer, the dance floor is my stage Better be ready, hope that you feel the same

So just dance! Gonna be okay”

The dancer of all dancers! But what happens when you find out your ability isn’t entirely your own? Is it still freeing or is it something that causes you guilt? All the same, nothing better than losing your feelings on the floor.

Clio, the Muse of History - Coins for the Eyes (Johnny Flynn)

“We dig for the Gods that leave no bones For the ship that sailed in the sunken sea There's a lot to discarded stones The famine road, and the merchants keep Come and search for, we would search And looking for a scarred land Turn the soil Weave a dream Dread the river, rig the sand And dig for those whose stories lie with buried paths and futures won”

This is such a funky spooky little song (You go ,Johnny), but I love the idea of perhaps inverting the idea of History from the Greek understanding of it (all texts and Classical history) to have a muse who was a deep love for these forgotten parts of history, perhaps an academic? 

Euterpe, the Muse of Music - Songbird (Eva Cassidy)

“'Cause I feel that when I'm with you It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds are singing, Like they know the score”

What must it be like to have the music woven into every fibre of you, to inspire it everywhere you go? 

Erato, the Muse of Love Poetry - Love Song (Sara Bareilles)

“No easy way to say this You mean well, but you make this hard on me

I'm not gonna write you a love song 'Cause you asked for it 'Cause you need one”

When you’re the Muse of Love Poetry and people fall in love with you at the drop of a hat, it can be tough! Maybe Erato has to explore what they actually want and who they actually love.

Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy - Read All About It, Part III (Emeli Sande)

“There's no need to be afraid I will sing with you my friend Come on, come on

I wanna sing, I wanna shout I wanna scream 'til the words dry out So put it in all of the papers I'm not afraid They can read all about it Read all about it”

Tragedy is all about catharsis, about that cleansing feeling of releasing all of your emotions as somebody else breaks your heart through art, and this song just screams of that for me, about just letting it all GO. Being the muse of tragedy must be a heavy burden to bear.

Polyhymnia, the Muse of Hymns & Sacred Poetry - Heaven’s Here on Earth (Tracy Chapman)

“You can look to the stars in search of the answers Look for God and life on distant planets Have your faith in the ever after While each of us holds inside the map to the labyrinth And heaven's here on earth”

Everybody’s looking for meaning and sometimes clinging to that meaning can turn people against others. Being the muse of hymns and Sacred texts and meditation must come with a lot of people looking to you for answers and not always liking what you tell them.

Urania, the Muse of Astronomy - Celestial Dancers (Birdy)

“In the heavens above us Turn to the sky Looking for answers And I saw no reply Only celestial dancers”

Imagine being the muse of Astronomy! Think how that role must have changed over the centuries from the stories of the constellations, to the discovery of new planets to modern scientific astronomy! But still being able to see the beauty in the heavens!!!

[thee-achilles]

Thank you for answering my 8th house stellium ask. I'm totally fangirling over your knowledge and intellect. I've always adored how smart libras are :') you've an eye for aesthetics aaa <3

I am tempted to ask your thoughts and pov on one more placement queen. What do you think about Lilith square ascendant? (I'm a libra rising and my lilith is in 3rd house in Capricorn if you're wondering). What do I need to know about it?

Thank you in advance, YOU ROCK 🤘❤

you’re so welcome!! thank you so much for your ask and for your lovely replies 🥰 <3 you literally brightened my day!! also what’s your sun sign? it’s giving me pisces or sagittarius 😭 if i’m wrong, no i’m not 😍 STOPPPP my ego 😭 calling me smart n shit. kicking my feet and twirling my hair literally. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anygay, let’s get this party started 🙄

OHHHHHHHH MY GOOOOOOODDDDDD

I LOVE LILITH ASPECTS THIS IS THE BEST THING YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME. I have my lilith sextile my ascendant 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 and it’s in leo. literally god complex or something 🙄

onto you now!

LILITH SQUARE ASCENDANT

ft the literal love of my life, keigo takami

TW: talk of sexual assault. skip if comfortable. there will be a • by the paragraph(s) that include this theme. i will also make the text in that paragraph smaller for skipping convenience.

okay.

you could’ve been told off for going your own way when you were younger.

i can just see you reading ahead in class or writing a story with “mature” themes and your teacher just??? not liking it??? just the classic adult telling a child off trope.

you could be told off and the excuse is because you’re “young” and you “don’t know anything at your age”.

in reality, you intimidate older people. in work settings, people of authority may feel like you’re coming for their gig. when in reality, you’re just working. making that coin, as the kids say.

over time, as you were rejected for just being you, you could have grown insecure. but you’re SEXY ASF, my guy‼️‼️ mean this in a totally platonic and supportive way.

you’re just exude “forbidden fruit” energy. bitches want you‼️‼️ but they don’t want to get involved 😒😒

if you know the tale of lilith, she was rejected for wanted to be on equal footing with adam, but she never stopped being herself. she just left his ass for someone who would accept her for being herself aka the devil. in this story, they try to make lilith seem like the bad guy for wanting what she deserved as not only a human being, but as a spouse. they didn’t like her because she wasn’t submissive as a wife. WE DON’T FW THAT HERE 🤬🤬🤬🤬‼️‼️‼️‼️

the key to your success with this aspect is to accept yourself and be yourself through and through. your key to empowerment is to empower your true self. people could struggle accepting you being yourself but 😒 literally ain’t about them 🙄 do you wanna make yourself feel good or them feel good? do you wanna feel bad and hidden while they bask in a personality you have that isn’t yours?

women/female-energized people could hate you for no reason. just assume they’re jealous and move on because it’s gonna happen a lot if other aspects don’t cancel it out (i.e. moon-venus, jupiter-moon/venus, venus/moon-asc, etc.). they don’t matter. YOU matter cuz you’re hotter than the sun or something. 😒😻😻

you may feel like no one understands you or that you’re always being misunderstood. i have observed that if not developed correctly, this could be a self-victimization placement. NOT saying you are! but i have noticed people with this aspect can struggle to admit their faults or admit when they’re wrong. it could take a blow to their ego or it could be that they don’t know how to apologize correctly; know the thought and struggle with the execution type thing. could cry when apologizing. tears just come outta nowhere sometimes.

black sheep of the family in SOME way. whether it be your opinions, your way of dress, your political interests, your race, sexuality, etc, you are starkly different from the rest of your family in some way.

•also since lilith gives off our “darker” energy, you may have been sexualized a lot. you could have developed early, or- even worse- have been sexually ass🅰️ulted. in this case that it did happen, the person who did it was trying to show you who’s really in charge or “put you in your place”. and if you tried to tell anyone about it, they might say “no, they seduced ME. it’s THEIR fault they are the way they are.” no matter what age it happened, that reason may occur.

your hair could stand out in some way! whether it’s the dye, volume, thickness, color, texture, etc.

so, i feel like i just went all in on the negative possibilities, but i think it’s important we recognize the positives, too! here are some of those:

you guys are 👏IM👏PACT👏FUL👏. you leave a lasting impression on whoever you meet! it comes naturally to you.

since this aspect is a square, lilith energy flows strongly, but in a constricted manner, through you. you could make a career out of lilith themes and be abundant through that! though, you’d have to accept your lilith first.

if you want attention, you can gain it easily.

you’re insanely unique in something! no one does it like you do 😈

the only one with the guts for breaking generational curses/darker themes in the family.

extremely magnetic.

AMAZING fashion sense.

now on to some random lilith square ascendant tidbits :)):

—you may be thrown under the bus a lot 😐

—you could have a hard time making friends.

—even though you’re rejected a lot, you are LOYAL to those who value you.

—your eyebrows may rest low or always be scrunched together subconsciously.

—OTHER’S MAY NOT LIKE WHEN YOU CUSS. they say it irks them but 😒.. to the boy who sought freedom.. GOODBYE 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬 (only real ones know 🙄 also if you don’t it’s a spoiler so don’t google or whatever. if you do, it’s in god’s hands at this point. 😒)

—when you’re doing a task, other’s may take over because you “don’t know what you’re doing”.

—minding your business, but gossip naturally flowing to you. somehow you could get involved.

—painted finger nails?? particularly darker tones.

—CHEEKBONES 💪💪 even if your cheeks don’t show them when you look in the mirror, when you smile or have a particular shadow, they’re there, babe. 😼😼

celebrities with lilith square ascendant!!:

prince harry, duke of sussex.

—him having this aspect makes SO MUCH SENSE. his mother was the black sheep of the royal family, so it’s bound that one of her children would be too, right? harry’s brother has put up with the royal family as a high royal in england, which harry refuses to put up with. while his brother stayed, harry left with his wife and his son to make a life in america. it was better to leave than to stay for them. meghan is biracial, which already left an insane amount of backlash and made her a black sheep from the family and stressed her out to the point she was almost at the brink. and after they left, EVERYONE blamed her. wouldn’t shock me if she had this placement too tbh. anygay, harry is insanely loving and prioritized his family over royal duties, making him receive a LOT of backlash. love love love him. he truly takes after his mother. i know she’s proud of him for having the guts to do what she never could do.

alright i’m done with my royal family rant 😒 moving on 🙄

johnny depp

jennifer aniston.

christina aguilera.

south korea (😭😭)

jean-jacques rousseau (genevan philosopher who’s ideas impacted the american revolution)

jessica alba

taylor lautner.

honestly, seeing these aspects in some of these people and knowing what i know about them.. it makes a lot of sense.

thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed :)) and thank you for the lovely ask, once again!! <33

[katyspersonal]

🅱️loodborne creativity tips

- Don’t take for granted a word from a youtube loredigger that barely scratches the lore surface, he is probs wrong anyway. People who care usually lurk on hellsites like this one.

- Don’t feel pushed into accepting a most popular interpretation of a character, or most popular theory, or most popular ship. Try to sit and reflect and understand what you want. Trust me it’ll pay off.

- That’s me if I had a coin every time someone whitewashes Henryk:

(you get the point. check the face datas: ( x ))

- The more you neglect the ‘but it is a videogame logic’ and ‘creators maybe were lazy’ and instead use what you are given - the more interesting ideas open!

- Don’t rely on localisation team and instead always consult direct retranslation ( x ), you really don’t wanna trust people who created ‘Even the Doll, should it please you’ or made Kos (or some say Kosm) sound as though she is connected to the concept of ‘cosmos’ when that’s L + not true, or said that Emilia was Amelia or missed god knows how many nuances. HIRE FANS FDJHDSsdfsd

- There IS a timeline, Miyazaki is just a sick sadist even if he swears he is a masochist! Communication with other fans is a key.

- Don’t be scared to interpret Eileen as not black (only one of her like 5 VAs is black, nor VAs bind the character), or to interpret Maria as bi/pan/straight/aro (canon says jackshit about her orientation) or to interpret Yurie/Julie as not asian (not only her name is Julie, but also her data suggest a blonde gal) or whatever. Trust me normal fans at worst just won’t care is all. Ones side-eyeing you are aggressors that think most common interpretation = obligation and you don’t NEED approval of people like this. Just don’t insult the more accepted versions because if you call them “token diversity character!!!!! >:(” I will evict you from this plane of reality.

- Try to write your Adeline as if Maria didn’t exist. And try to write your Edgar as if Micolash was instead a stereotypical super ultra crazy 12 year old anime girl. And try to write your Henryk as if Gascoigne never knew him nor cared. TLDR; make sure characters are still interesting and written even if their popular ships are not possible.

- If you love Dark Souls a lot and want to connect the verse with Bloodborne, there are actually many incentives, not just Chester seemingly being a Hunter and ‘Deep Sea’ theme! Like go for it, the ‘well AKTUALLLLLY’ territorial redditors don’t know shit.

- If you check ‘Gehrman the first hunter’ tag know it is often lore inaccurate hate anyways and you risk just getting upset. However do post good stuff under this tag if you have something good to say about the character. We’ll weed em out eventually lets go lore accurate fans lets go

- It is absolutely ok to have "generic” design on Laurence or Adeline or Rom or whatever! Obscure characters we never seen as humans are a hassle to draw the fanart of, so more or less popular designs just speed up communication through fanart.

- If you want extra lore, check translations of latin lyrics and/or internal filenames! Did you know Ebrietas’ lyrics both refer to Mensis ritual and have ‘fair maiden why do you cry’ in it, or that Amygdala is ‘evil god’ but One Reborn is ‘failed evil god’?

- Don’t ever do the ‘but nobody cares about this character so...’. EVER. Post that character. POST them. Post ideas about them. Talk about that character. Huge chunk of Bloodborne cast is neglected. It’s been seven years and still no coherent stuff with Henriett, Gratia, Forgotten Madman, Yahar’gul Hunters, Dores, Research Hall ladies that kick your ass before you enter it etc etc. Trust me supply creates demand. Post that obscure character. (Please post them dsfghgfds ;-;)

- Shipping Adella and Arianna is the same as shipping Alfred and Annalise. No ship-shame here but if you adore one and hate another, think about why you do. Overall avoid the biases that boil down to ‘the wrong thing is only wrong if it is hetero’.

[orange-waterfalls]

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much 

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you. 

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna 

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much 

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

For Kalim how much is he worshipped? And also him being the gid of prosperity kinda makes me envision him summoning gems and prescious metals from the earth

[Oh wow, hey Kalim! There’s a question about you here!]

[Wha, really?! That’s amazing! Hi there, new mortal friends! How are you today?]

[Haha! They won’t be able to respond or see this until we post it, Kalim, and mortals don’t have access to Magicam. That’s why Faun has to speak to them for us.]

[Aww, that’s too bad. I was already thinking of throwing a party to celebrate our new friends…]

Guuuuys, you stole my intro!

[Oop! Sorry, Faun--oh hey! You’ve stopped talking backwards. How do you feel?]

Better actually. That dimension Che’nya sent me too was so...weird! Everything was moving backwards!

“Funya...I couldn’t understand a word she said! She couldn’t even write straight!”

[Yeah, that’s why we didn’t really have time to do an ask the same way we have been, so we’re doing a little something different: an impromptu interview! It was lucky Kalim happened to be visiting when the ask came in, huh?]

Yeah. Anyway, welcome back everyone! So as Cater said, we’ve got a little something different planned for this one. Kalim, would you be able to answer a few questions for the time being? At least until I have a chance to compile a more detailed overview of your status as a deity like the others?

[Sure! Wow, this is so exciting~! What do you wanna know?]

Okay, let’s start with the main question: how much are you worshipped? Do you have a huge following?

[Honestly, it’s a bit of a mix. Humans do worship me, yes, but there are so many these days who think of me as a charm--like a lucky horseshoe or a four-leaf clover. Sometimes I hear them call me “Lady Luck”, but that’s not right either.]

“Huh? So wait, does that mean they consider you a God of Luck more than Prosperity?”

[Mm...not quite, though I can see why you’d think that. As the God of Prosperity, I turn people’s fortunes around when they’re down on their luck, even if it’s not monetarily. To me, prosperity and fortune are more than just materialistic wealth, but a wealth of good health and happy moments to be shared with others. That’s why I love making people happy!]

[Oooh, so that’s why you’re also known for festivals!]

[That’s right! Most mortals turn to statues of me seeking blessings for their parties and festivals to be successful. I don’t mind though, because I get to see so many people enjoying themselves and enjoying good food! Jamil has to remind me to take it easy with my power though, or I’ll have to keep visiting the Stardust River again. Last time I could barely stand to the point he had to carry me all the way back!]

Oh jeez, please be careful! I know you guys are gods and all, but don’t you guys have limits?

[Well sure. That’s why we go to the River when we need to!]

“Jeez, is being a god really that difficult?”

[Eh, it’s not so bad, Gri-chan~! We just gotta remember to take a break every now and then.]

Yeah. Okay, so let’s see...so does all that mean that you don’t have anything to do with money, gold, or even jewels?

[Actually, I do! I may not connect to the earth the same way Riddle and Epel do, but I can form veins of precious metal ores and gemstones for people to find. I can even take some dirt and change it into whatever jewel or coin I want, and I like to imbue them with a little ‘lucky magic’--or at least, that’s what a good friend once called it centuries ago. So yeah: I can summon them at will!]

Oooh, neat! What about your talisman? Or your animal familiar? What are they?

[My animal familiar is an elephant--they’re amazing creatures! As for my talisman...a lot of people would assume it’s an elephant too, but it’s actually the jasmine flower.]

“Eh? That’s a surprise. I’m surprised it’s not a flying carpet.”

[Well of course I’ve got a flying carpet! It’s how I get from one party to the next so fast without using my power. Here, watch!] Fweeeet~!

Huh? Wha-?! Waaaah!

“Eeeek! Help! Get me off this crazy thing!!”

[Haha, it likes you two~! Come on, let’s go for a ride! I wanna show you my favorite places!]

[Wait, Kalim-!]

[Wheeeeee-!] Aaaaaaaaaaa-!!!!

[Augh, not again! Why does everyone keep swiping my disciple? We’ll be right back, peeps!]

[wintervvidow]

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback.  friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST 

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience. 

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost. 

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind. 

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed. 

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky. 

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested. 

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.  

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you." 

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers. 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation. 

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria. 

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky. 

Flashback: 

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

 The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised. 

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time. 

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

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