#(IT JUST HAD SCARILY FITTING MUSIC)

[anika-ann]

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R.

Part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,6k

Summary:  Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

��Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

[aronaax]

I was just listening to some music fill the void of feeling like nothing, and the song In my room by insane clown posse came on, now relistening to it, it sounds SCARILY how i imagine Clef/francis and Lily/SCP 4231-A’s relationship to sound like

(Also love your art sm, it looks so cute and adorable, please don’t feel bad about it, I wish I had a artstyle like yours :)

cw // 4231

ok i do not like this at all BUT UR SO RIGHT i think most icp songs would fit clef

(also thank you so much !!)

[greattigerssimp]

Punch Out!! Wii boxers and their workout regimes.

(Got inspired from @bucketspammer4life and their buckets-worth of Punch Out headcannons, so here I am making mine! Teehee. We all saw cutscenes about how Lil Mac trains for matches, but what about the other boxers?? Find out here!)

Glass Joe: 🥐🇫🇷

- Hates waking up early, so he starts later in the afternoon/evening

- When he works out, he wears a black hoodie that says "But first, coffee" on it.

- Focuses on cardio to stay in shape, and because his natural upper body strength is abysmal

- Kaiser sometimes helps him prep for matches and tends to over-praise him... like, Joe will do 2 push-ups and Kaiser will be on his knees, screaming about how amazing Joe is doing.

- Hates dieting to build muscle (since it takes him away from his beloved breads and wine), but if he has to, his go-to meal plan consists of Greek yogurt, berries, PB on whole grain sandwiches, and salads.

- His workout playlist consists of a variety of music, but quite a lot of Daft Punk. He's a closeted fan of them.

- He used to sparr with Gabby Jay before he died. It was his only real practice and upper body exercise he got. Nowadays he sparrs with Kaiser or Bear Hugger for practice

Von Kaiser: 🔩🇩🇪

- Opposite of Joe, focusing on his upper body strength only.

- Wears his classic slutty white tank top and army pants... and iconic boots while working out.

- He also wakes up stupidly early for a run, and almost got mugged one morning one time.

- A rare pull-up lover! Dude is shockingly good at pulling his own weight.

- He's also scarily good at climbing stuff... don't blink, or you'll see him on your roof all of a sudden

- Uses techniques from his own regime to help train his students

- Workout playlist is boring

- Very meat heavy diet, both on rest and training days. Very bleak breakfast, mainly consisting of eggs, toast, and black coffee.

Disco Kid: 🕺🇺🇲

- One word: Boxercise.

- Takes lessons with Heike as his teacher

- Ofc wears the leotard. He's had that leotard for a while, actually... he says it fits fine, buuuut let's just say that there are certain signs that show the outfit getting small on him...

- Exercises whenever he wants; his classes are indoors, so time isn't an issue for him.

- Has over +20 playlists, one for every day, of ever hour, of every "vibe."

- If he's training for a fight, he'll usually rely on greens and vegetables to help him keep him focused. Also plenty of protein shakes (his fave flavor is cookies and cream)

- Aside from boxer-cising, he enjoys going on afternoon or morning walks with his mom (and sometimes April tags along)

King Hippo: 🦛🏝

- His only idea of "working out" is to swim butt naked at the nearest beach

- The only music he listens to is the ocean ✨️

- He always eats a punching bag before hits fights... no one knows why. That should tell you enough about his pre-fight diet.

Piston Hondo: 🥊🇯🇵

- Like Kaiser, works out early in the morning, but also late at night too

- If he's in public, he's wearing a white t-shirt and sweat pants. If he's working out in private, he's wearing this pink Sailor Moon tank top he's owned since he left Japan.

- He and Tiger practice meditation together. Mental health is just as important as physical health!

- Cardio lover

- Disgustingly quick reflexes

- One time, he used a treadmill at the gym, and he accidentally broke it after running in the highest setting for over an hour.

- Playlist consists of J-Pop and a little bit of vocaloid. Like Joe, he's insecure about the music he likes.

- Absolute W workout diet. Rice + home made chicken or white fish, crunchy sea weed strips, and lightly seasoned edamame?? All inside a cute bento box that looks adorable AND portions out the food??? Sign me and the WVBA up! He changes it up a lot, too, for the sake of trying new things.

Bear Hugger: 🐻🇨🇦

- Trains anytime of the day, wearing anything. Sometimes he'll train butt naked in the woods to really "capture the bear spirit."

- Bears, squirrels, you name it! He's trained, at least with every North American animal, at least once.

- Loves hockey! Not only does he watch it a lot, but he's good at playing! He and Lomasi play for fun or for training.

- Doesn't really listen to music while working out (he prefers the sounds of nature) buuut he does have a playlist all about country rock.

- His diet? Raw fish. Either caught by him, Lomasi or the bear he trains with.

Great Tiger: 🐅🇮🇳

- Doesn't actually work out... his clones do, and he resuscitates the energy from their efforts.

- Does meditation with Hondo... will float unconsciously during meditation.

- His playlist consists of authentically Indian music, mainly ones with a calming aura. He listens to them while meditating

- Will sometimes go on jogs with Hondo and get hilariously left behind because Hondo is naturally speedy

- Works out/meditates shirtless

- Would have a W diet if he knew how to cook. He mainly gets Hondo to make him bento boxes for lunch and dinner. Had a prime phase for a good 2 months

Don Flamenco: 🥀🇪🇸

- Works out shirtless in the summer, low-cut tank top in the autumn and spring seasons, and doesn't work outside during the winter.

- Also loves swimming! His swimming exercises are pretty rigorous. Also, he posts thrist traps of him swimming for attention lmao

- Carmen decides when he can and can't work out. Someday's he can work out at night or in the morning, and somedays he can't

- His workout playlist is all sorts of disorganized. He's got authentic Spanish music in there, but he also likes his fair share of girly pop (thanks to Carmen), and because of his one emo phase, there's a bunch of metal and punk pop in there. One minute he's listening to "Firework," the next, it's "Misery Business."

- He would absolutely LOVE to have his own Spanish based diet, but nah... Carmen's rich parents usually cook for him every night. He's stuck eating unseasoned chicken and cold collared green until his fights. And no, he isn't allowed to cook for himself, even though he can do so pretty well.

Aran Ryan: 😈🇮🇪

- Upper strength dude, straight up. If he's not punching something into oblivion, he's not working out.

- Works out all night and sleeps all day.

- Will trash talk whatever inanimate object he's beating into oblivion.

- Got arrested once for fighting random strangers on the street... police were called after he bit someone's finger off. Claims he was just working out

- Wears a "punch me, I'm Irish" tank while he's working out

- Playlist consists of Irish and British punk rock bands

- Gets hot way too easily; the place he works out in has to be breezy/cool or he's getting distracted

- No diet whatsoever. No one's taking his fish and chips or his shepards pies away from him, no sir

Soda Popinski: 🍾🇷🇺

- Booty shorts and crop top tank top. Doesn't matter what the weather is... he's wearing this. He gets a lot of stares...

- Hates cardio, makes him anxious bc he's so tall. Focuses on upper body strength

- He isn't into basketball, but if we was, he'd be really good at it; would be a nice way to train.

- During his withdrawal phase, he found it horrible to work out. He felt so tired and weak for days on end, and lacked the motivation needed to workout.

- Broke lots of training equipment back in his spiked liquor era.

- Playlist mainly consists of Russian hits that he grew up with + the occasional folk song

- Sparrs with Macho Man for totally straight reasons (liesss)

- Very safe, very bland diet... but it does the trick, and it doesn't make him throw up. He's very conscious about what he puts into his body, since he's afraid of how the liquor would react to it.

Bald Bull: 🐂🇹🇷

- Wears a boxing outfit + tank top

- Also meditates, but privately.

- His entire work out regime is as closeted as possible.

- Very calm when working out... he's almost a completely different person than how he is in the ring

- Listens to calming white noise instead of music

- Diet isn't that rigorous, but it isn't particularly unhealthy either. Baklava for breakfast, lean kebabs for lunch, and Manti for dinner.

Super Macho Man: 🌊🇺🇸

- Wears the same speedo he does in the ring when he works out. If it's cold outside, he'll wear a Hollywood Blvrd hoodie and no pants, aside from that speedo.

- ONLY works out on the beach he lives by, and only does it in the afternoons.

- Blasts his music on the beach... he listens to a DISGUSTING amount of pit bull. It's either him, or any other rave song that's been played dozens of times

- Either swims, surfs, or punches a bag. He'll record himself doing this too

- Likes to sparr with Soda on the beach... and surf, ofc, this is my AU and Soda x Macho Man is built upon romantic surfing moments !!!

- Also hates dieting, like Joe, but if he has too, he'll stick to steaks and energy drinks. Also enjoys morning Mimosa's

Mr. Sandman: 💤🇺🇲

- Very private work out routine

- Spends entire days in his apartment, just punching a bag and listening to a playlist designed by Mr. Dream that TOTALLY doesn't have subliminal messages... ha-

- Puts bulking powders into every piece of lean meat and energy drink he consumes; its borderline unhealthy

- Ofc the bulking powder he uses is created by the WVBA...

- He's lowkey miserable, but pretends he's not.

[lauronk]

Hmm... Maybe an AU fic where ellie is a singer and joel is her bodyguard? Idk

okay so this one i just did as a ficlet but also i could fully see myself coming back and fleshing this out later, it would fit so well into alterationsverse!

chasing all those stars

length: ~1.9k words tags: joel & ellie; alternate universe - modern; brief mentions of attempted assault; brief mention of someone being killed; depression; father-daughter relationship; joel's still the best dad no matter the universe; no beta we die like david

i kind of just jumped into the middle of this one, but like i said, i might come back and make more of it at some point. hope you enjoy!

Ellie doesn’t really remember a time when she wasn’t doing this. Sitting on stage with a guitar, singing songs she scribbled on napkins. First in dive bars, open mic nights, pretty much anywhere that had a microphone and a stool for her to sit on, even places she shouldn’t have been because she was too young. Her voice wasn’t really anything to write home about - she wasn’t gonna be the next Kelly Clarkson - but it was good, and really Ellie’d always had more of an eye to being a songwriter than anything. Plus…she just wanted out of her house, wanted to earn a little bit of pocket money that her foster father couldn’t touch.

But then some record exec had happened to be at an open mic one night at the Mohawk, and before she could blink it felt like Ellie had been swept away to New York to record a demo. And the demo had been well-received, and she’d been given a contract and then she was recording an album, at the grand old age of fifteen. You’ll be the next Taylor Swift, someone had said to her, and then promptly been confused when Ellie had cringed away. She had nothing against Taylor - she had the entire Red (Taylor’s Version) vault on repeat most days- but she couldn’t think of an artist more opposite than herself.

And now here she was, twenty years old, third album almost complete, three Grammys and four People’s Choice awards under her belt, management already gearing up to promote her tour, and Ellie was just…

Exhausted.

She’d bought a house out in Boston that she never got to spend time in because she was always on the road somewhere, doing some promotional appearance, on a tour, filming a music video. Never enough time for herself, barely time to do what she really loved, which was writing songs. Half of this album was songs other people had written, and Ellie felt those songs chafing against her skin every time she sang them.

Ellie’s head rolls along the back of the chair, turning until she’s looking out the studio window to where her bodyguard sits, brow furrowed as he scrolls on his phone.

At least she’s got Joel. Through all the insanity, she’s always got Joel.

He looks up at her now, corner of his lips tilting up when he sees her already looking, and he pushes to his feet when she tilts her head. He moves a bit slower these days - he’s just turned sixty, which is well past the usual age for a bodyguard, but she’s got younger, more scarily muscular men to guard her when she really needs it.

Joel is…he’s like an emotional support blanket at this point, not that she’d ever tell him that.

“You about ready to go, kiddo?”

Ellie sighs and holds out her hands for him to pull her up, which he does obligingly. He’s still strong, even at his age, still could probably hold his own in a fight. Definitely still lethal with a gun when necessary, definitely still willing to kill for her. He’d only had to do it once - and her foster father had really had it coming - but Ellie knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Joel picks up her guitar case before she can and slings it over his shoulder, guiding her out of the rented studio with a careful hand between her shoulder blades. Ellie doesn’t say anything as he loads it in the back of his SUV and opens the back door for her - he never lets her ride in the front - and he starts to drive them back to her penthouse.

She stares out the window, not really seeing their surroundings, until Joel calls her name from the front seat. He’s watching her through the rearview mirror, furrow in his brow.

“Y’alright?”

Ellie blows out a breath, watching the buildings grow taller and taller around them. Nothing against New York, really, she had just never quite pictured herself living here.

“Is it stupid that I’m unhappy?” She asks, looking down at her hands. Her cuticles are already picked raw, so she leaves them alone, instead tugging at a loose thread on her absurdly expensive designer jeans.

“Why would it be stupid?” Joel flicks on the blinker, making a right. In the distance, Ellie can see her building. Her manager had said the penthouse was a good investment, prime real estate, excellent price, secure building. And it was all those things.

But it was also all modern angles, glass, dark furniture meant more to be looked at than sat on, and so many goddamn windows. Two years with it as her primary residence and it still didn’t feel like home. It was like a crash pad instead, a place she was borrowing from a stranger - not somewhere she could see herself living forever.

“Because.” Ellie pulls on the thread even harder. “I’m rich and successful and have the life a gazillion people would kill for. What’s there to be unhappy about, right?”

Never mind that she hadn’t been able to make it work with Cat, or that her friend Riley had been killed by a crazy fan who had broken into Ellie’s last apartment, or that her foster father had tried to swindle all her money and then assault her, and she’d had to watch Joel blow the man’s brains out to save her.

It’s Joel’s turn to sigh. “Just because you're rich don’t mean you don’t have problems. You’re allowed to be unhappy.”

Ellie makes a noise of assent but doesn’t say anything else as they pull into the underground parking of her building. Joel carries her guitar again - and he’s the only one she lets handle it, seeing as how he gave it to her - and then swipes the keycard for the elevator.

It’s not until they’re upstairs, her guitar carefully removed from its case and set on its stand, that Joel nudges her to sit down on the couch. He lowers himself to the coffee table across from her and rubs a hand over his chin. He fixes her with that look that he so rarely gets, the one that says he’s about to make her talk about shit she doesn’t want to talk about.

But Ellie doesn’t stop him, because if anyone’s got the right it’s him. She stopped pretending two years ago that Joel was just her bodyguard and not the closest thing she’s ever had to family, and so had he.

“Talk to me, baby girl,” he says gently, and the knot of anxiety sitting in her chest slowly unravels.

Ellie sucks in an unsteady breath, annoyed to find herself blinking back tears, and she whispers, “I don’t know if I wanna do this anymore.”

Joel doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised by her words, just nods slowly. So Ellie keeps going.

“I always just…wanted to write songs. Didn’t really care about performing them, just needed a way to get all this shit out of me. And it felt like suddenly here I was, given all this,” she waves her hand towards the apartment she hates, “over people who worked way harder and wanted it way more. And I feel like an asshole for not being grateful enough for it, not appreciating it, just wishing I could give it back.”

The tears are flowing freely now, and Ellie digs the heels of her palms into her eyes, pressing until roughened hands encircle her wrist and gently tug.

“You’re not an asshole,” Joel says firmly. “You’re not,” he insists when she starts to shake her head, “and you ain’t allowed to bad-mouth my kid like that.”

Ellie lets out a wet laugh, the same flare of warmth erupting in her chest that she always gets when Joel calls her that. “Sorry.”

He swipes at her cheek with a thumb. “You wouldn’t be the first person to achieve their dreams and find out it ain’t what you thought it would be, Ellie. There’s no shame in admittin’ that. And if it’s makin’ you so unhappy, you can always walk away, baby. All the wealth and fame and awards in the world ain’t worth you bein’ miserable.”

“Walk away to where?” Ellie asks softly, hating how much just the suggestion of it has lifted her spirits already. Logistically, of course, it wouldn’t be that easy - she’s contractually obligated through at least this third album and one more tour in support. But after that?

After that, she could just fucking leave, and the realization makes Ellie feel like she can breathe for the first time in…years.

Joel shrugs. “Dunno, ‘s up to you to figure that out. But –” he hesitates, rubs a hand over his jaw again. “When’s your next big thing? Appearance or anythin’?”

Ellie wants to tease him for not knowing when he’s the one that’s supposed to be escorting her to all these things, but it’s not like she can think of it either, so she pulls out her phone to open her calendar. There’s over two dozen unanswered texts and another ten missed calls, and Ellie’s heart rate spikes even as she ignores them.

“Looks like three weeks from now,” Ellie says slowly. “And that’s the time where I’m supposed to be getting a few more songs down for the album.”

“Well,” Joel scrapes his palms over his thighs, “why don’t you and I take a roadtrip? I ain’t been out to see my brother since last Christmas, and he’s been on my ass about it.”

Right, Joel’s brother. The one with a lawyer wife and a toddler son, who owns a ranch out west somewhere. Ellie’s never met him, despite Joel trying repeatedly to make it happen, but she’s afraid that Tommy won’t like her or won’t think Joel should still be guarding her. And what the fuck would she do then? She can’t lose Joel.

“We can drive out there,” he says coaxingly, reaching forward to shake her knee, “spend a couple weeks relaxin’, you can do all that introspection you ain’t got time for anymore, figure out what you wanna do. Maybe even get some songs written while you’re at it.”

He says the last part teasingly, and Ellie whacks him with a pillow, rolling her eyes. “Never should’ve told you I was blocked,” she mumbles, even as she knows it’s not true. She always tells Joel everything, shit that reporters would kill to find out. He was the first person she came out to - she trusts him more than anyone else.

Joel bats the pillow away and leans down, arms braced on his knees. “We don’t gotta do that, baby. We can figure out some other way, but I just thought…couple weeks out in middle-of-nowhere Wyoming might do you some good.”

Ellie chews her lower lip, mulling it over. The more she thinks on it, the more she likes the sound of it. Even if Tommy and his family don’t like her - despite Joel assuring her repeatedly they would love her - she can at least get a bit of peace and quiet.

“I’ll even let you ride in the front seat,” Joel tacks on, grin pulling at his mouth, and Ellie feels an answering one spread across her own face.

“Swear?”

“I swear,” Joel replies, still grinning, and Ellie sticks out her hand for him to shake.

“Deal.”

thanks for reading!

[child0feden]

BLISS

andreas “ BSOD ” betinger x reader

♡ general dating headcanons for andreas!

୨୧ funnily enough, i used to date a guy called andreas! online dating, obviously, but he was sweet lolol! this was kind of interesting to write because i have had a lot of not so great experiences with heroin but please don’t worry anon, i was perfectly comfortable writing this for you <3

♡ requested by anon | view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: worlds forgotten boy by billy idol - im zeichen des bosen by grausamkeit

♡ okay so, i cannot just make dating headcanons for andreas and not mention heroin…

୨୧ i think to be in a relationship with him, you wouldn’t have to do heroin yourself but you would have to be supportive of his use and not degrade him nor try to talk him out of doing it

♡ i think your attempts at getting him to stop something he enjoys so much and brings him pleasure would bug him real bad, no matter how much you mean it out of love and care for him, he’s been doing it for so long and he likes it, it’s very likely he’s been loving heroin, and hating it, for longer than he’s loved you… it’s a very difficult situation for both him and you at times…

୨୧ your attempts would likely annoy him so much, he would just break up with you if you don’t stop, no hesitation and in a fit of anger

♡ he’d probably be a little upset about the breakup because he did love you but he’ll quickly soothe his heartbreak with some bliss in the form of a drug

୨୧ so if you want a relationship with andreas, you’ll just have to be okay with having a relationship with heroin too, even if not a direct relationship!

♡ i won’t go too deep into this but if you enjoy doing heroin too, that’s just great! he loves you even more

୨୧ though i will go a bit deeper into smoking weed with him because that’s a lot more casual and easier to talk about for me

♡ first of all, he absolutely loves rolling blunts on your ass!

୨୧ i mean, it’s just perfect to him! he gets to make a perfect blunt for himself, and you if you want to get high too, and he gets the most amazing view of your gorgeous ass, packing and rolling the blunt much slower than usual just to eye up and fondle the fat of your ass for longer!

♡ if you tilt your head over your shoulder and raise an eyebrow at him, asking just what is taking so long, he’ll probably just throw you a cheeky smirk before sinking his teeth into your ass cheek and mumbling against the skin

“ nothing… just your ass, you have a great ass, you know that? fucking perfect ass… ” ( he is an ass guy and no one can convince me otherwise )

୨୧ well he is an ass guy but to be honest, he’s pretty feral for your body as a whole… this nasty little guy loves covering your body in bite marks, bruises and hickeys… maybe track marks too, if you’re into doing heavy drugs with him…

♡ i’m unsure if andreas ever did cocaine, he most likely did, he’d obviously like snorting lines off your ass too!

୨୧ or even snorting the snow white lines from your upper back as he pounds into you from behind, slowing just a little as to not let any of the powder go to waste on the sheets below

♡ if you’re english or just speak much more english than him, he always asks you to teach him how to say very weird and obscure words, he really wants his english to be better

୨୧ he definitely lets out loud laughs at how strange some words sound when translated to english, but he doesn’t laugh for long before his face drops and gets really scarily serious, looking you dead in the eyes and starting a way too deep and philosophical conversation about why it sounds like that…

♡ that’s just the kind of high person i see him as, flat in the middle of being overly comedic and overly serious about things

୨୧ you’d probably get immensely irritated by his run ins with police and near regular time in jail but it’s just another one of those things you’d have to learn to deal with or just break up with him because he is not a man fond of change

♡ when andreas is in prison, all he really requests is letters and phone calls from you, the mix of not having drugs on the inside and not hearing your voice at nearly all times of the day is damn near enough to drive him crazy

୨୧ so just send him letters and call him whenever you can, he really appreciates it and makes the most of them!

♡ would he maybe request you send him some risqué or fully nude photographs of yourself with your letters? and lean closer into the phone, away from guards, to whisper filthy things down the line to you? well, yes…

୨୧ like i said, he’ll make the most of them so of course he’ll be wanting some spank bank material for the stay!

♡ when he sends letters back to you, he usually drags some words out for unknown reasons, it’s just one of those things with him! he’d probably somehow find a way to harm himself just a tiny bit to drip a small amount of blood onto the paper, sending a real, intimate piece of him back to you

୨୧ if you’ve never seen or read “ wir kinder vom bahnhof zoo ” be prepared for him to be absolutely shocked and stare at you blankly for a couple seconds after telling him, then he’ll be trying to find a way to show you the movie as soon as possible

♡ obviously, he already owns the book! he’ll probably read it to you himself since the copy he has is in german, he’ll either try to read it in one long go to you after taking some heroin but quickly gives up, his mouth drying up every sentence and irritating him

୨୧ so it probably becomes a ritual for him to instead read a chapter to you before bed, your head resting on his flat, pale chest as he reads in a gravely voice, one hand holding the book open as another fondles your ass under the blankets or plays with your hair

♡ andreas really likes making out with you and very risky public displays of affection! he has no care for people watching nor what they think and an indecent exposure charge? well, just add it to the hundreds of other charges on his record, he could care less

୨୧ sloppy, open mouthed make out sessions with you literally always lead to sex and he’ll be damned if he won’t make out with you in public so i’m sure you know what that means but if you don’t? it just means a lot of public sex, against walls, on benches, laying in the grass and so on… you guys, especially andreas, don’t even try to hide what you’re doing… he is loud as hell! grunting and groaning deeply as his hips slam against yours, his cock driving deeper inside of you as your hands slide under his shirt, nails digging into his back, much to his pleasure, of course…

“ awh, fuck! fuck fuck fuck! feels so good, so fucking tight… always so fucking wet… ” ( usually andreas will let out a string of curses and dirty talk in german too, slipping back into his native tongue in the midst of the deep pleasure he’s receiving )

♡ when andreas is released from jail, every time all he wants to do is very simple!

୨୧ he just wants to get home, get naked, do some drugs, listen to some music, probably whiplash smile, it takes him way back, and fuck you… that’s it!

♡ he is a very easy to please man, most of the time, anyways <3

[literallyjustanerd]

Could you do Cody or Fox for the music thing? Thank you 💖

Thanks for the ask!! And for the two excellent choices. I ended up doing both :) I'll list the songs first then share some details below the cut:

Cody:

Holy Grail - Hunters and Collectors

Shelter - Porter Robsinson

Way Out There - Lord Huron

Fox:

Typhoons - Royal Blood

Uprising - Muse

Normalisation Blues - AJJ

Anyone else who wants a 3 song playlist on a character of their choice, please feel free to drop a name in my inbox!

My favourite lyrics from each song and some character rambling below:

Cody:

I love Cody so goddamn much okay he's such a good character for the little we see of him. He's strong but gentle and so scarily competent but he doesn't ask for glory. He's absolutely lethal in a fight but he still tries to end conflict with peace and negotiation wherever he can. He falls so easily into the "big brother" role and gives so much of himself to his brothers without hesitation.

He knows the clones' lot in life and instead of fighting against the inevitable, he puts his strength into fighting for his brothers. The songs I chose (it wasn't an easy choice lol) ended up having a common thread of fighting on despite knowing you'll never have a place in history or be remembered like you should. Because I love to make myself sad about Cody.

Holy Grail - Hunters and Collectors

Started out seeking fortune and glory It's a short song, but it's a hell of a story When you spend your lifetime Trying to get your hands on the holy grail ... I followed orders, God knows where I’ve been But I woke up alone, all my wounds were clean I’m still here I’m still a fool for the holy grail

Shelter - Porter Robinson

When I'm older, I'll be silent beside you I know words won't be enough And they won't need to know our names or our faces But they will carry on for us ... And it's a long way forward, so trust in me I'll give them shelter, like you've done for me

Way Out There - Lord Huron

I'm a long way from the land that I left I've been running through life and cruising toward death If you think that I'm scared, you've got me wrong If you don't know my name, you know it now I belong bodily to the earth I’m just wearing old bones from those who came first There are many more flames when mine is gone They will build me no shrines and sing me no songs

Fox:

Okay I've never really been a Fox girlie but the more I think about him the more I do love exploring his whole deal with being closest to the Chancellor during the war.

Typhoons - Royal Blood

These songs ended up being incredibly angsty and mostly about having your own mind turned against you, inspired by the idea that Fox always had his inhibitor chip slightly active to keep him compliant with Palpatine's orders. Especially when Fox's own free will ran explicitly counter to what he was ordered to do - i.e. shooting down his own brother. I still haven't forgiven him for Fives

The last song is actually about the US, it was released in 2020 about Trump's presidency, but oddly enough I think it fits pretty well in this scenario too lol...

Flashbacks, I’m not letting go Tear me up, cast a shadow I got game face, but it’s all for show Can’t give it up, blow my cover ... My thoughts becoming parasites They live to keep me terrified I tell myself I’ll be alright Typhoons keep on raging, and I don’t know why

Uprising - Muse

Paranoia is in bloom The PR transmissions will resume They’ll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down And hope that we will never see the truth around Another promise, another scene Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed And all the green belts wrapped around our minds And endless red tape to keep the truth confined

Normalisation Blues - AJJ

I can feel my brain a-changin’, acclimating to the madness I can feel my ourrage shifting into a dull, despondent sadness I can feel a crust growing over my eyes like a falcon hood I’ve got the normalisation blues This isn’t normal, this isn’t good I’m detached and I’m distracted, all keyed up but unproductive Vacillating between being all excited and disgusted And then dozing lackadaisically in this bubble where I’ve made my mental home Connection’s more important now than it ever was, but I’d rather be alone

[wjbs-aus]

Since this is having a resurgence kinda,

Reblog for a larger sample-size or something? Or not. Your call!

Context for each below.

Back in, like, 2016 or something, the Secondary School I was at did lifeguard training as part of its PE curriculum; one of the activities involved was rescuing a hollow plastic dummy. When it was my turn, I grabbed it, but it suddenly filled with water, and I was suddenly dragged to the bottom of the pool; eventually I managed to let go of it, and I was allowed to sit on one of the benches next to the pool for the rest of the session.

Last year, around Halloween, my dad randomly phoned me up and asked if I wanted him to buy me an axe or scythe from the Halloween section of Tesco. I said I wanted a scythe, and he bought it; it was very plain, and consisted of a hollow plastic tube and a simple-looking, poorly-moulded blade that slid over the top. It eventually got pretty badly-damaged, and my brother - in a fit of sleep-deprived impulsiveness - secretly bought me a cooler, much higher-quality one (the blade is actually a skull wearing a mask with a long "beak" attached to it!)

Technically, I don't have all the Skylanders figures I got when I played, since at least one is still at the flat I used to live in, but otherwise I have all of them. Also I only had Giants, Swap Force and Trap Team; I missed out on playing Spyro's Adventure, and I only had a Wii at the time so I couldn't play most of the games after it (except for Superchargers Racing, which is literally just the racing minigame from the fifth game but released on its own).

Play Hard Reset. Do it do it now. It's short, kinda frustrating at times and has questionable writing and voice-acting, but the aesthetic is really cool and it has an interesting mechanic where the player only has two weapons, but can unlock different modes for them that effectively mean the player has ten. I haven't played much of Hard Reset Redux, but it seems to be the same, but balanced a bit better and with much better dialogue.

I got into ZScript late last year, but I've got pretty good at both the inheritence system and making original stuff (which is technically jus the same as using inheritence, but you have to define everything yourself.

I can't remember exactly when this happened, but it was around either Halloween or Christmas (since Nightmare Before Christmas was on TV) and possibly in 2018; I made myself a cup of tea, but didn't notice that the kettle had limescale remover put into it (aside from the colour being a bit off). When I started drinking it, I immediately spat it out, and since then it's been known in my family as A Thing I Did Once™.

I love Sea Power! They make good music! Check out Let The Dancers Inherit The Party, it is their best album in my opinion!

Yep, done this one. Haven't finished Quake 1's second expansion and I'm only on, like, map 2 of Quake II, but I've played all of Quake IV's story campaign. Also, if it counts, Quake III's "singleplayer campaign", which is just a series of increasingly-difficult bot matches.

When I got Reaper one of the first things I recorded was a scream, which coincidentally ended up being a scarily-good impression of the headless bombers from Serious Sam.

A while ago, I tried playing the Game Boy Advance version of Bionicle Heroes with an emulator, since I wanted to check it out; when I tried playing it with VBA, it crashed on the second screen, and while another emulator (namely No$GBA) allowed to, I had to make a DS4 controller-profile specifically for use with it, since it wasn't registering my inputs properly with my regular one. Eventually I just bought a Bionicle Heroes GBA cartridge online so I could play using my DS Lite.

Anyway here's the new scythe.

This picture physically hurt to take, like I had to lean really far back and stretch my arm really far out

[birgosaurus]

real arcane moments (canon /s), the master list ((AKA i was playing THE SIMS 4 to make some of the arcane cast and..))

[also disclaimer this is mainly jayce and viktor lmao]

jayce thinks he and vi are besties for some reason?? i just wanted to introduce jinx, vi and cait to viktor and jayce (bc they’re two seperate households) and like… upon jayce and vi first meeting, they had 2 similar interests and he was instantly like, “omg…. you!! YOU!! /p”

they talk and it’s vi: .. fitness jayce: YEAHHHH FITNESS *stops conversation to do push ups*

my man wakes up, like, 12pm, which is about the time vi starts working. so he’ll wake up to call her, WHILE she’s at work, to say shit like, “heyyyy this person asked me out 🥺🥺🥺🥺 should i say yes” “idk man IM AT WORK AND I DONT CARE”

also idk why but jinx is nocturnal i literally didn’t even do this myself .she just goes to bed at 5am every morning, EXACTLY when caitlyn wakes up. jinx sleeps in until, like, 3pm. they both have completely different sleep cycles despite living in the same house. I TRY TO GIVE JINX A NORMAL SLEEP SCHEDULE AND IT DOESN’T WORK. SHE’LL ALWAYS WAKE UP AT 3-5AM TO RUN AROUND THE HOUSE FOR A MIDNIGHT SNACK. /lh i was meant to make u two enemies. i was meant to make u hate each other behind vi’s back. why is this happening.

meanwhile viktor and jayce wake up at the same time. go to bed at the exact same time. they’re scarily in sync. are really close. but keep tormenting each other through pranks. jayce will point one way, viktor looks behind him. “BOO.” viktor jumps. they both laugh. THIS SHIT HAPPENS CONSTANTLY. VICE VERSA. and the amount of random arguments they have without my input?????. are y’all ok?.?????

they once got into an argument and jayce kicked over the bin outside. he walks back in. viktor is still on the couch. jayce sits next to him. but there’s music playing. so of course, jayce started angrily head bopping. because it’s important u always dance to music no matter what mood ur in. viktor jus groovin, too, while ignoring him. jayce eventually calms down. happy head bopping :). viktor then tells him off for kicking over the bin. fucking ANGRY. HE STORMS OUTSIDE. AGAIN. KICKS OVER THE BIN. AAGGAAIIN.

also idk i find it funny jayce plays christmas music and vibes while viktor is like “for the love of god shut that shit off right now.” i might’ve purposely made jayce like christmas music. i might’ve purposely made viktor hate it. what of it?

i always have to force viktor to socialise , too. he refuses to talk to anyone on his own BUT jayce. his literal roommate. who talked to him mainly with my input. most of the time jayce will invite people over and viktor avoids them as much as possible. once he walked out of his room, saw cait and vi at the dining table with jayce, stopped, and then decided reading a book in his room would probably be a better use of his time.

genuinely got so confused when i tried to introduce the girls to the hexbros tho bc i got cait to interact with viktor but for some reason, when checking through her acquaintances list later, viktor wasn’t there? but jayce WAS… and they’d only briefly been introduced. DID VIKTOR JUST WAVE HER OFF OR SMTH LMAO???? WHAT HAPPENED I DIDNT SEE

the first time vi and cait properly interacted was when vi went to cook (which she does a surprising amount for someone i wouldn’t expect to cook???) and she LIT HERSELF. ON FIRE. and cait LITERALLY HAD TO PUT HER OUT. can’t believe the “how i met my girlfriend” story is “yeah she lit herself ON FIRE <3 everyone was rlly stressed heehee but i’m just such a quick thinker <3” wow i love gay people

anyway <3 they’re all havign a greit time <3 very normal <3

[bulgariansumo]

I’ve been wanting to make this for a while for fun, and now I have! Here’s a little sample of what I imagine each character’s voice to sound like. 

Originally, each character was going to have 10 seconds of talking and singing, but I found out 10 seconds of a song was really short, and I didn’t want this video to be too long, so the talking had to be cut down to 5 seconds. There’s some awkward cuts, but hopefully you get the vibe of each voice!

Down below, I’m gonna ramble and list songs used.

Leon (Carlos Toshiki) 

Role Used: Carlos as himself? This was from a skit from the opening of a music video. It wasn’t hard for me to find clips of him speaking, but the way he normally talks is too subdued for Leon. This is the closest I could get to him being more animated. I went out of my way to find fitting voice actors for some of the others, but Carlos’s voice has kind of an airy boyishness that’s perfect for Leon.

Song Used: Innocent Dreamer

--

Emil (SquaDus)

Role Used: N/A, this is just his voice. It has a pretty boy quality, but it can also have a masculine edge to it (more apparent in the song choice.) I find that perfect for Emil! Very versatile. I’ve always really liked it.

Song Used: 君じゃなきゃダメみたい / Kimi Ja Nakya Dame Mitai (cover)

--

Lorenzo (Tetsu Inada)

Role Used: N/A, this was from a demo reel.

Song Used: 斬光 / Zankou. This is one of the only two songs I could find for this guy, and the only one that sounded close to the speaking voice I used.  Prior to deciding on Inada, I almost settled for voice-claiming SquaDus as both Lorenzo and Emil. Inada’s voice in this song reminds me of SquaDus’s in another one, which vindicates me giving Emil the trait of being able to mimic Lorenzo scarily accurately.

--

Mia (Saori Hayami)

Role Used: Yukino Yukinoshita from My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As I Expected. Fun fact, it’s actually the scene from this gif. It always reminds me of the one tumblr post where the joke is that she’s looking at a crab with a knife. I’d have linked that post instead, but I couldn’t find it. 

It was kind of a struggle finding a voice for Mia that was airy, not too high-pitched, and used in roles of more downbeat, guarded characters. This nails all three! It’s also very pretty; I imagine other characters finding Mia’s voice inordinately pleasant, so that’s a plus.

Song Used: AWAKE. I just found out that this was from RWBY.

--

Roxie (Aya Hirano)

Role Used: Haruhi Suzumiya from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I was first exposed to anime around the time The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya and Lucky Star were both really popular, with Aya Hirano playing lead roles for both. In my mind, her voice is cemented as the quintessential anime girl voice. It helps that both of the characters mentioned fall perfectly in line with Roxie’s hyperactive, unabashed nerd personality. Monari Wakita was my other choice for Roxie’s voice, but she’s not a voice actor, so it’s hard to find her talking and even harder to find her talking with the energy of Roxie.

Song Used: どんだけファンファーレ / Dondake Fanfare

--

Jun (Romi Park and/or 96Neko)

Role Used: Pharah from Overwatch. It was hard picking a role for this because Romi Park normally voices either hotheaded/edgy boys or mature women, neither of which fully suit Jun’s personality. I do imagine Jun’s voice can sound more like Park’s take on Pharah when they get serious.

Song Used: ナンセンス文学 / Nonsense Bungaku cover. This is a duet, which is why there’s an awkward cut in the video. I couldn’t find a song of Romi Park’s that uses a voice that would fit Jun, but my years listening to utaite led me to 96Neko, whose voice can get equally as deep and androgynous-sounding.

--

Aiden (Junichi Suwabe)

Role Used: Daiki Aomine from Kuroko no Basket. He sounds just tired and annoyed enough for Aiden, with a nice, gruff voice, too!

Song Used: Self-Righteous. I can barely imagine Aiden singing, but the rest of this song actually sounds pretty fitting for him! It took quite a while to find it, though. Junichi Suwabe has a bunch of roles under his belt and a wide range of voices. I’m kinda impressed at how different he can sound!

--

Oh shoot, I almost forgot about [REDACTED]! For anyone who hasn’t gotten to the most recent episodes of Galactiquest yet (unless you’ve already been following me for years), this is the spoiler part.

Angelo (vipTenchou)

Role Used: N/A, though I think he’s reading a character’s lines from a horror game. I’m too lazy and not fluent in Japanese to go back and check. His voice has a shakiness to it that’s fitting for Angelo and androgynous in a higher-pitched way. I’ve only been able to find that trembly quality in Megumi Hayashibara, but she doesn’t voice boys that often, and the ones she does aren’t too close to Angelo’s personality.

Song Used: 櫻花饗宴  / Ouka Kyouen

[what-if-nct]

no cos the daily anon is so cute i get so happy to see her little life update each time <3

also im so happy for you i hope you have the new release on repeat, how have you been?

i cleaned my room today and then took such a long bath and then sprayed scents and incense sticks and perfect lighting and music i never knew this could be so therapeutic i feel so vibey after ages!!

also you have a pisces moon that's is literally so cute! ive always thought that moon compatibility is better than the sun for some reason oh and the sun is in pisces already?!

-venus

Yes Daily Anon is literally the cutest, and I love hearing from them every day. They could just tell me what they had for lunch and it would still be important information to me. And Yes, I listened to it at least like six times this morning then had to listen to other Lana songs cause I over play songs all the time.

And oh my gosh that is literally the best kind of therapy like you just feel so good after cleaning and having a nice long shower and everything is just a vibe and smells good. It literally does wonders, best thing for the end of the week.

I've been fine, I've been watching a lot of hauls. And a lot of girls suggest getting clothes from the kids section. Now I'm plus size and you'd think that's an unhelpful tip. but when Justice stores were in the mall they had plus sizes for tweens and it actually fit me I bought a lot of stuff from Justice. Which leads me to believe if I just look through the kids section for the juniors plus the biggest size might fit me if it's just tops. Cause when my friend and I were at target I said it's not fair kids get the cutest stuff. But I might just have a look next time. In the words of a wise woman on TikTok named Samyra "if you look like you could fit it bitch you better go and get it"

Yes it's Pisces season. Also Jungwoo day! Yes, I literally just heard today your moon sign is your aura, who you project out into the world. I'm a Leo Sun my friends have said if they didn't know they'd think I was a water sign . But my Mercury and Venus are in Cancer too. So it makes sense. I dated a guy like 2 days older than me I checked and our birth charts are almost identical. And we were scarily similar even to being overtly touchy and he also liked Lana Del Rey and Taylor Swift like it was so eerie. Even a YouTuber Amber Scholl we're like 8 days apart and oh my gosh she's so similar to me. even the having too much energy and running around part. It also leads me to be a little skeptical of Jisung. There's three guys I dated born around the exact same time as him. And only one was good. The other two, honestly the one who looks like Doyoung just said really really fucking weird things. The other, I can't exactly say what happened but it definitely scarred me. also not going younger than 22 ever again. I thought 20\21 was okay it's not. I literally am just like Mark I just ramble and go off topic every five seconds I'm sorry

[episbep]

rehab day thirty three

not even sure how I feel but I’m pretty sure it’s not great

fully done with my crush he’s still being nice but definitely prefers the new girl like I really don’t want to compete so bye ig

spent today with other people, a lad who’s scarily similar to me (clothes, music taste, sense of humour, people pleasing, kinda crude, painfully open, addict lol) but he’s also fit and his presence is really comfy and being around him feels good so I’m sticking with him while I’m not feeling too good as well as my girly peers - we went to the beach, sat in the sun chatting and watching music videos and he bought me an iced coffee (sweetheart)

I’m sad and angry and doubting/hating/pitying myself, stole a T-shirt and some food today (I had the money but now I’m off bail I was kinda just like eh why not) feel like I’m giving up and I don’t wanna give up but can’t muster up the strength or enthusiasm to try anymore. It’s my daughters birthday tomorrow and I’m not there with her for the first time ever, she’s disappointed and I feel a cunt for needing to be here/not being able to celebrate with her and making her sad when my main reason for wanting to be sober is to be there for her more presently and be the best parent I can, and that she deserves…not being there for her on her birthday definitely doesn’t feel like I’m living up to that… period doesn’t help.

we won house of the week again, so got another curry.

[cupidskissx]

Are you ok with random questions? like, what songs would you associate with lestappen or max, charles individually?

Hello darling Anon,

Of course, my ask box is always open (except we don’t talk about the prompts I’ve had for months and haven’t finished yet 🫣, I will, one day!)

I once listed a few songs that made me think of lestappen here 🥰

I have been in a music funk for a while so I don’t really have many songs that make me think of them. However, there are a few songs from Niall Horan’s first album that I rediscovered a couple of months ago that scarily echo and incapsulate the themes and viewpoints from my Temptation’s Trajectory series. It still makes my mind spin how perfect of a fit they are!

Cross My Mind is quite literally Charles’ POV:

🎶 Leaving me in pieces, but I swear it's worth it every time

And it doesn't even cross your mind 🎶

San Francisco is Max’s subconscious which he really needs to listen to:

🎶 I want to let all my defences down

Scream until you hear me out

I'll lay it on the line for you 🎶

Still is very leatappen coded and maybe one day Max will jump on the honesty train:

🎶A thousand miles away from the day that we started

But I'm standing here with you just tryna be honest

If honesty means telling you the truth

Well, I'm still in love with you🎶

[rising-angelx]

thatsohkai​:

✘

he didn’t account for how her proximity would make him feel. how it would feel juxtaposed to their old found family surrounding them with sticks and keyboards, hurdling them both through time. suddenly the middle class apartment was now a foggy garage. the light waft of qawalib filtering through the drafty crack in the door. it always clashed when they were trying to come up with songs but there were times where the traditional instruments and their friends mother tongue inspired a rift, or line that led them to their next neighborhood number 1. the room was cold now, concrete instead of wood flooring. angel wasn’t ‘aka dahye of tidal’, he wasn’t ‘the kaiso’, ‘the soh duri’, ‘the it boy’ what fucking ever title they’d adorned him during his suffering. they were kids. scarily in love and it swelled some sort of panic in this throat to be transported back there. he hadn’t wanted to be there. he wanted to be in the warmth of ahmad’s new place, looking at bailey’s new bright orange hair. 

their memories no longer brought him comfort, only anxiety and angst afraid that he’d dug his claws into someone and the wounds would never heal. no matter how much  of a better guy, a good guy, he tried to play the damage he’d done had been dealt. 

he was happy when the joint returned to his lips, felix feeding it to him again allowing kai to stay hands on  his guitar, gently thumbing a tune that seemed to pour out of his fingers without consulting with his head first. “how about the two professionals lead a bit.” felix chipped, giving kai his second puff before sitting back with it on his own. malachi looked at angel, “i’ll give you the honors actually? and guys please cut the idol jokes, we’re just here as malachi and angel, that other shit can come back when we leave deal?” the group hummed in unison and kai nudged the girl next to him, a proud smile on his high cheek bones.

୨୧ .

angel gave him a small smile in return, grateful he had said what she was thinking. the familiarity of it all was beginning to settle into her bones, though she wasn't sure if that was what was beginning to calm her nerves or the drug in the air. “you know, i might have something we could go off of? some lyrics i threw down, i was kind of imagining a bass and keys type thing, jazzier.” she shuffled through the totebag she had dropped at her feet, pulling out her little journal where she jotted down things that briefly passed through her mind, not wasting any possible idea. “here, um, they’re mostly in korean i hope you guys don’t mind,” she closed her eyes for a second trying to remember the tune she had in the works to go along. she sang a through a rough version of something she thought could make a chorus of some kind, her voice acapella and her hand subconciously going up and down with the notes and inflections of her voice. "and then maybe a tag like um... thinking bout you, baby,"

the way their group came up with songs had always been a bit erratic. a lyric here, a bass line here, tapping out a beat or absentmindedly fingering out a riff everyone loved. her favorite part was the lyrics, the way she could fit poetry in to music. for a long time it had been the only way she felt like she could express herself, and the band only opened that avenue up for her more. at infinite, she struggled to get her lyrics approved for tidal's songs even though she had plenty of their discography under her belt before the merger. she even had to fight to have her solo single released with her own words. but it never stopped her from writing whenever she could.

"ahmed could you give me a beat like..." she paused to think for a second, summoning the music in her mind. "dum dum tiss, da-dum dum tiss," she vocalized the pattern she thought up, knowing he could easily pick up what she was putting down. "i gotchu," he nodded, taking his seat behind the drums, giving his drumstick an extra dramatic twirl before beating out a line with a bit if his own taste added in. she clapped with a grin, the thrill of music being created always brought her joy. "what do you guys think?"

[genyasglockk]

The whole Vecna squad was writing down their favorite songs just in case. Everyone's giggling and poking fun at each other for their song choices and for a moment, it feels like they're all just normal people, teenagers, hanging out.

Steve passes the paper and pen to Eddie with a small smile. Eddie smirks back, he's so ready to tease Harrington to high hell because he knows he probably put down something by Madonna. He doesn't get the satisfaction though.

"Queen?"

Steve can't help but roll his eyes. "What? What's wrong with Queen?"

"There's nothing wrong with Queen. I just expected something closer to Like a Virgin from you, Harrington. Maybe even some Cyndi Lauper." The shit eating grin on Eddie's face was so wide it almost hurt.

"Well I guess you don't know me as well as you thought, Munson." Steve muttered as he crossed his arms and pouted. Seriously a full on pout. Lips downturned and puckered. Who even was this guy?

"If this had happened a year ago, Steve would've totally had to write down Into The Groove. Seriously man every single time be picked me up for school he was playing that fucking so-" Dustin was interrupted by a shove from Steve's foot. The man was blushing like crazy. Cute.

"Hey. No badmouthing Madonna, asshole. And stop telling everyone my business!"

They went back and forth as Eddie smiled something soft and scribbled down his own favorite song. This felt normal. Things felt ok.

"You're just another sucker ready for a fall"

Eddie's not sure why he was thinking about that moment right now. Maybe it's because it happened less than twelve hours ago and Steve had been ok. He'd been a little roughed up but he was fine. He'd been smiling and talking to Eddie. He was fine. So why was Eddie watching him be lifted up and away from him right now?

There was no warning. Or maybe there had been and Steve was too much of a fucking martyr to tell anyone. Eddie felt helpless as Steve's feet left the ground. Nancy, with her quick reaction time and lack of hesitation, had managed to get the headphones on Steve's head before he started levitating. Dustin was holding on to the Walkman for dear life as the tape inside played.

"You gotta fight from the inside, attack from the rear"

"Ya know, the song is kinda perfect for this. The theme of it is scarily fitting. You plan this somehow, Harrington?"

Steve had laughed when Eddie said that. A beautiful and deep laugh.

"No I didn't plan it, man. My timing with shit is just perfect."

And that had made Eddie roll his eyes. This guy really was full of himself huh? Fuck. Eddie was absolutely gone on him.

Steve kept rising.

He kept getting farther and farther away and every centimeter of distance between them set Eddie's nerves on fire.

"Fight from the inside, you can't win with your hands tied"

It really was a different kind of agony to have someone you care about suffering within arms reach yet not being able to do a damn thing. All they could do was press play and hope that the music reached him.

All that was left to do now was wait. Wait and pray that Steve could find his way back to them.

"Fight from the inside, right down the line"

[2ndplanetnights]

Tw: Whump, blood, public whump, collared whumpee.

Whumper was having a masquerade ball, one fit for someone who lived in a manor like this. The dark greens mixed with wooden accents and metal sconces, the dark velvet curtains and tiled floors. It's no surprise they called Whumper a vampire, between their love for extravagant things, elegant parties and victorian glamour. Or maybe it was the way they could charm anyone who looked into their eyes, if they didn't know any better Whumpee would agree with the whispered rumors.

They stood next to Whumper up on the balcony that over looked the large opulently decorated entry hall. They looked less like their date and more like a staff, however, with their suit that was just a little too tight. Perhaps the collar that they wore with their name inscribed on it added to the look. Whumpers hand sliding behind them and tugging them closer, however, stated the exact opposite.

Their voice stung against their ears in a hiss to Whumpee and they warned one more time "Make me look bad and the punishment will have you wishing I cut out your tongue"

Whumpee had no time to respond before Whumper looked to some of their staff, and the lights of the room dimmed and the music came to a stop. In confusion the room went silent enough to hear a pin drop, scarily so. The unearthly voice was quick to rip the moment away though "Welcome Everyone! To my first party of the winter season, I'm so happy you all could make it," their grip tightened so harshly it was painful. "I know it's odd to hold a masquerade these days, but I figured it would be quite the experience to start off this cold winter. With that being said" their voice became darker.

"Enjoy the festivities!" The look in their eyes seemed crazed like this was so exciting for them. The hand that wasn't attached to Whumpee layed on the banister as they leaned over looking down on the people like they were ants.

"Come on now, we have some talking to do" They said finally letting go of Whumpees side, which they could feel was bruising already. Starting down the stairs as the pianist started up once again, Whumpee made sure to walk right next to Whumper like they were told to hours ago.

Almost a whole hour of Whumper talking to random people, it was all the same. They would meet someone introduce Whumpee as their date and any time the other person would compliment them Whumpers nails would dig deeper into their hand. Eventually this had their hand dripping blood, and despite the pain they refused to flinch or whimper. That's what the other wanted, to watch them fail to hold it together then torture them for doing so.

Then their eyes landed on someone. They knew if cought staring at someone else they would be in much danger, but it wasn't just anyone. There in an extravagant outfit was Caretaker, even with a masquerade mask they could tell it was them.

Their heart fluttered for half a moment, but that was cut short as it seemed someone else recognized them too. Whumper was dragging Whumpee out of the room in a rush, people on the way asking what the matter was. Whumper was quick to answer throwing on the charm and telling a lie.

This night was not going as planned for either of them.

[swimmingleo]

The Wizard of Oz: yet another conspiracy

It's about the infamous spinning around parallel, this one:

Why... would they do this.

Point is I've gone too far, Harryween happened, I fell into a Wizard of Oz rabbithole and found this that for some reason I've missed all this time, which happens to be mf Pink Floyd related because why wouldn't it be.

I promise it kind of adds up in the end, but it's mostly me... clowning.

The Dark Side of the Rainbow:

It's an old Pink Floyd theory and one of the most well-known in the band's lore: it started around the 80's with the popularization of videotapes. One day, someone just had the idea to mute the Wizard of Oz (1939) and play The Dark Side of the Moon (1973) over it right at the beginning of the movie (the third roar from the MGM lion). A scarily accurate synchronization resulted, to the point where one could ask themselves if the album was indeed produced as an alternate soundtrack to the film.

cut, im pouring mercy on the dash

Just your average fan theory, which really took off in the 90s and surprisingly received a lot of response. The album's audio engineer called it "eyewash" and an impossible thing to do with the technology they had back then. (which is. really not true. You could do it, it was just terribly impractical. then again if you're crazy enough..)

David Gilmour and Nick Mason, guitarist and drummer of the band, also vehemently denied the theory: total non sense and a waste of time.

basically everyone got real pressed for no reason lol it's a cute fan theory guys not gAy rUmOuRs cmon

HOWEVER, there is one person who never denied it and it's the guy who literally conceptualized the entire album. Indeed, Roger Waters found the theory "amusing" and had even referenced Over The Rainbow in later album The Wall (and seeing how frustrated he gets when the audience doesn't engage with their music the way he'd like, it almost feels like he was encouraging the theory but then again. pure assumption idk shit)

So yeah, make what you want of this dysfunctional band's response to the theory.

Okay but does it really work ?

There have been psychological explanations of the phenomenon: the theory has been dismissed as the brain always finding connections and parallels between different elements: if you're looking for something, you find it. Yes, this explains various fan theories like the Beatles' ''Paul is dead'', or crispy audios we have around here (pReTtY uNfoRtUnaTe) where the perception is influenced by what we're told to hear or what we want to see. If you play any random music over any random movie, you will always find synchronized moments. But I think the Dark Side of The Rainbow goes beyond that: you can actually make out obvious interpretations and patterns that make sense with the rest of their discography or what they said about certain things/songs. The album actually matches the movie’s narration or the transitions between scenes. But once again, the theory has been associated with crazy delusional fans on acid who live on conspiracies so... (so larrie of em)

Here you have the full movie, with the album playing on loop over it (cuz it's an album designed to be played on loop). Most little moments feel like those funny coincidences I mentioned before, like a character moving, dancing or speaking on beat, but some others are like... too much for me to dismiss as coincidences, because they carry some deep PF-esque meaning. I won't get much into it here cuz we don't have time for that~ but if you're a PF fan interested by the topic feel free to send me an ask and we'll rant about it it's honestly so cool ffgeifzji

Still, I really recommend to watch this specific part:

There isn't any kind of edit to make it fit. It just naturally goes smooth like that.

CMON IT'S. IT'S WEIRD.

Also the front and back cover of the album:

...No colour > Colour > Back to no colour // Sepia > Technicolor > Back to sepia.

If you're wondering why Roger Pink Floyd would go this far to hint at a movie which had a massive impact on queer culture ever since WW2, and how it could be even more relevant to Larry, here <3

AND LARRY BITCH??

Do we know other weirdos with too much time on their hands who do weird shit with synchronization in their art yes we doooo.

So, the shot of them filmed by a camera spinning like a tornado, in an already spinning setting (twirling dancers) in MVs loaded with queer symbolism.

last one just because... SOTT sounds a lot like The Great Gig in the Sky to me. Also he's flying passing by a rainbow at some point so.

The tornado scene is the core of the Dark Side of the Rainbow theory. The music and image go incredibly well together: the piano starting on the first gust of wind, the music gradually getting louder with the chaos on screen until it suddenly calms down when Dorothy’s unconscious in the eye of the tornado. Music ends when the tornado stops for good. But also the symbolism of that song and that scene combined: The Great Gig in The Sky is part of the transition between the first and the second part of the album and it evokes death. The tornado in Oz is the transition between sepia and technicolor, two different worlds and technically.. it's Dorothy's departure from earth to somewhere over the rainbow.

Meanwhile, TPWK is in black and white, Walls is colorized. Both songs represent a significant milestone in their respectives careers. That theme of "I used to feel bad, but I've made peace with myself and now I feel better".

The TPWK/Walls parallel starts at 1:41. Solely based on that film video I linked earlier, The Wizard of Oz is 1:41:47 long. So like. If they wanted to be little shits and choose a precise timestamp that would hint at the Oz synchronicity theory...

... I just like the idea of Harry and Louis scanning the internet for some rbb/sbb ideas, stumbling upon (or already knowing) the Dark Side of the Rainbow and being like.. aha, we could do that at some point. Because in the end, whether it's intentional or not, it's a pretty big pop culture fan theory, and they've both already hinted at PF and Oz.

All in all, the first person who had the idea to play Pink Floyd's album over the Wizard of Oz would have made an excellent delusional larrie and I wish they were here.