#carry it with me always?? bind it to my very being?? I’m going to be sick!!

[gwens-love]

The space he left behind

Summary: After Nicky’s passing, Agatha doesn’t know how to handel being a good mother to her daughter, and a partner to Rio. She navigates her grief while struggling to reconnect. As Rio hopes to recover the love that binds their family.

Warnings: Angst, grief and loss.

Word count: 1.7k

~Agathario x daughter!reader~

A/N: I used google translate for this sorry if there are mistakes.

Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

As you wandered through the library with a book in hand, you looked up at Agatha, or better said your Mama. She was busy, but you missed the comfort of her voice, the warmth she used to give so freely.

“Mama?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t interrupting her too much.

Her eyes flicked to you, and a small, sad smile appeared on her face. She had been distant since Nicky was gone, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be here for you, to love you the way he would’ve wanted.

“What is it, little one?” she replied, her voice softer than you’d heard it in days.

You held up the book, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Can you read this to me, Mama?”

Agatha looked down at you, her expression conflicted. She reached for the book, fingers trembling slightly, and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe… maybe later, my love. I’m… I’m not quite ready today.”

Your heart ached a little, but you nodded. “Can… Mami read it to me, then?”

Agatha’s expression softened, and she glanced down the hallway where Rio was bustling around. Rio heard your voice and peeked in, her face lighting up with a gentle smile as she approached, kneeling down beside you.

“Of course, mi corazón,” Rio said, taking the book from you and winking at Agatha. “Mama and I both have time for our little reader tonight.”

Agatha gave Rio a grateful smile, her hand resting briefly on Rio’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay together, they would find their way forward, for you.

You nestled into Rio’s side as she settled down with the book, her aura carrying a mix of nature’s calm and something far more powerful… the kind of energy you could feel in your bones. To you, she was Mami, warm and loving, but everyone else knew her as the green witch or Death with a capital D. Her touch felt like spring’s renewal and autumn’s quiet decay, life and death balanced in her very presence.

Rio opened the book, her fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “Are you ready for an adventure, mi amor?” she asked, her voice rich and velvety, holding that magical spark that always made your heart race a little faster.

You nodded eagerly, glancing over at Agatha, who sat nearby. She was watching the two of you with a softness in her eyes, though you could sense a shadow in her heart. Rio noticed too, her gaze meeting Agatha’s, a look passing between them a silent understanding of grief, love, and the weight of the responsibilities they shared.

As Rio began to read, her voice wove the story into something almost real. Her words seemed to hang in the air, each sentence wrapping around you like an invisible charm. You leaned in closer, comforted by her presence, while Agatha, though still distant, stayed close enough to remind you she wasn’t going anywhere.

With both Mama and Mami by your side, you knew you were safe, held between life and death, love and sorrow, warmth and magic. And for now, that was enough.

As Rio’s voice wrapped you in the story, the words began to blur. You found yourself glancing over at Mama, who was watching the two of you with that faraway look in her eyes the one she had whenever anyone mentioned him.

You shifted, looking down at the edge of your blanket, and softly asked, “Mama? Where… where did Nicholas go?”

The question hung in the air, pulling both of them from the gentle quiet of the story. Agatha’s face froze for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure how to answer. Rio’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even she looked at Agatha, letting her decide what to say.

“Well, my darling…” Agatha began softly, her voice a blend of love and grief. “Nicky… he had to go somewhere very far away. Somewhere we can’t visit him.”

“But he’s coming back, right?” you asked, looking between them, the innocence in your eyes making it clear you hadn’t grasped the weight of what had happened.

Agatha’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle, yet you could feel the heaviness of her sadness. “Sometimes, people go to places they can’t come back from, little one.”

You blinked, processing her words, your heart sinking. “Like… like the stories? Like when someone goes into the spirit world?”

“Yes,” Rio murmured, her voice a whisper, her thumb tracing soothing circles on your hand. “Nicky went to a place like that. But he loved you very, very much, and he’s always watching over you, mi amor.”

You looked down, frowning, the ache of missing him suddenly sharper, more real. “Will I ever see him again?”

Agatha swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly. “Maybe… one day, in a different way. But for now, he’d want us to take care of each other. To remember him with love, even though he’s gone.”

You held their words close, even as you struggled to understand fully. In that moment, you could feel both their hands grounding you, reminding you that even though Nicholas was gone, Mama and Mami would always be here. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

But for Mama, that wasn’t enough. Agatha missed Nicky deeply, in a way words could never capture. She carried the loss in her eyes, in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was looking, and in the quiet moments when she seemed miles away, lost in memories of him.

After she tucked you into bed that night, Agatha lingered by your side, brushing a gentle hand across your hair as you began to drift off. She stayed until your breathing slowed, your small hand still curled around hers.

When she finally pulled away, she found Rio waiting at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded, watching her with a look that held both understanding and sorrow. The green witch, Death herself, could face any darkness with courage, but this grief the emptiness left by Nicky’s absence was something even she couldn’t fully shield them from.

Agatha closed the door softly behind her and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice breaking. “I wasn’t meant to do this alone, Rio.”

Rio stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on Agatha’s arm. “You’re not alone, mi amor,” she replied, her voice low and steady. “We’re in this together. Nicky’s gone, yes, but his love he left that with us. With you.”

Agatha looked down, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her own robe as if tracing the fabric might help her remember his touch, his laugh, the quiet way he’d reassure her during nights like this. She wanted to believe Rio, to find comfort in her words, but the ache of Nicky’s absence was too raw, too present. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like there’s a part of me that went with him.”

Rio tilted Agatha’s chin up gently, her gaze fierce yet filled with empathy. “You still carry him, Agatha. He’s in every act of love, every time you comfort mi cielo, every time you give of yourself even when it hurts. Nicky would be so proud of you for everything you are, and everything you’re becoming.”

Agatha’s eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall, silent yet heavy with the grief she’d been holding back. Rio pulled her into an embrace, grounding her, her arms strong and steady, as if she could anchor Agatha to the world again.

For a long while, they stood like that in the dim light, surrounded by quiet and loss, yet also by the bond they shared a bond born of love, even through the pain. Agatha knew she had to carry on, not just for you, but for Nicky’s memory and for the family they were still trying to build.

And maybe, with Rio by her side, she would find the strength to face each day anew.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, anyway,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with sorrow, her words hanging heavily between them. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a glint of hurt that hadn’t yet softened, no matter how much time had passed.

Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence faltering as she held Agatha’s gaze. She nodded, understanding the weight of the pain she had caused, the way it still lingered, the wound not fully healed.

“But I will love you until the end of my days here on this earth,” Agatha continued, her voice breaking slightly as she brought her hands up to Rio’s face, her thumbs tracing the curve of Rio’s cheekbones with a gentleness that spoke of both love and longing.

Rio closed her eyes at the touch, feeling the warmth of Agatha’s palms against her skin. For a moment, it was as if the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, bound by love, loss, and the complicated history that lay between them. She knew Agatha’s forgiveness was not something that could be given lightly, nor something that could be hurried. Rio had hurt her, betrayed the trust they’d built, and she understood that forgiveness might never fully come.

“I don’t deserve you,” Rio whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with the weight of her own guilt. “But I’ll spend every moment of this life making it right, even if it takes until the end of time.”

Agatha leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s, their breaths mingling in the silence. It was a closeness that spoke of all the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say, of all the love that still pulsed between them despite everything.

They stayed like that, bound together, in a promise unspoken yet deeply understood: to hold each other, even when forgiveness felt far away, even when their hearts were heavy with grief. Because love, even in its most fractured form, was a lifeline neither of them could bear to sever.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Fin <3

[draconic-desire]

🔶 Rex Dracorum 🔶

Yandere Zhongli x Reader

At this year’s Lantern Rite, you happen to cross paths with a dragon, much to the chagrin of the one who holds you in the palm of his hand. The result has you trapped between them.

Warnings: Very brief mention of nsfw at the end, implied kidnapping, forced relationship, yandere behavior. Basically my version of what would have happened if Zhongli and Neuvillette actually met at the Rite…

Despite the contract irrevocably binding you to the Lord of Geo, its progenitor allows you a surprising number of freedoms.

Sometimes, you can pretend like he didn’t steal your life away with a simple signature. That he didn’t back you into a corner, making you decide between two evils: to be his wife and mate, or watch as everything and everyone you ever cherished suffer the wrath of the rock.

Why me?, you would plead aloud, desperate for any loophole, any escape from your contract. Why a mortal geologist with only a few mora to her name?

You’re one of the few who appreciates the rock over the gem, my precious lapis, he’d reply cryptically. Always riddles and non-answers, layered statements garnished with polished words.

If you could reverse time, you would have refused his invitation for tea that first time. Little did you know that each of those subsequent meetings, each time you spent listening to his fantastical tales shared between steaming cups, you were digging your grave a foot deeper, his hold on you constricting an inch further.

Perhaps if you had rejected him outright, he would have viewed you not as a unique mineral, but as another insignificant pebble in a sea of endless, colorless sediment. As no more than the dirt beneath his boot.

Instead, you must seek refuge from him and his stifling, suffocating presence in the times between the cracks, like now, as you take in the transformed Liyue Harbor, adorned with lights and colors brighter than any precious stone.

Hailing from Liyue, the Lantern Rite has always been a time of celebration and reflection for you and your family. Now it represents one of the only times the invisible shackles are lifted from your frame.

Although Zhongli does initially insist on walking you through the harbor, arms interlocked as he parades you around while monologuing about Liyue’s rich history, he permits you to venture off on your own and explore while he entertains his associates or work clients during the day. Although you know there are constantly eyes on you, usually a certain grumbling yaksha, this precious time almost feels like normal.

Today, you’ve decided on a stroll through Qiaoyang Village. The quiet, leisurely existence that its inhabitants have adopted fills you with a rare tranquility. Walking at a slow pace among the many street vendors, the scent of tea leaves, fresh mint and spices, permeates your nose, beckoning you forward. Your tea stocks at home are getting a bit low, you mentally remark, and having some of your own gives you an excuse to occasionally opt out of the times Zhongli wants to drag you out again.

Your mind set, you turn to find yourself a fraction of a second from running straight into a wall of boxes.

No—looking down, you spot a pair of black and gold boots, leading up to black trousers and elegant blue robes. A pair of matching gloves holds the boxes in place. There’s actually a person carrying all of those parcels.

Due to the boxes obscuring their view, they notice you too late—with startlingly quick reflexes, they manage to avoid running into you, but given their sudden halt mid-step, the boxes in their arms go toppling to the ground.

You gasp at your stupidity and immediately drop to your knees to maintain the stranger’s fallen goods. Embarrassed at your carelessness, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t see you—”

A gloved hand rests on your own scrambling fingers, calming your frantic attempt to organize the items. “No apologies necessary. I am the one at fault for not being more alert.”

Turning to face the stranger, who is now crouching beside you, the air in your lungs extinguishes as your eyes lock.

Undoubtedly, this man is one of the most handsome individuals you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Long, silver hair cascades around his sharp, defined features: almond eyes with striking lilac irises, high cheekbones and full lips, a tall, muscular frame clearly sculpted with subtle muscle. His attire—sapphire robes, adorned with lighter accents and intricate whirls of ocean blues—is clearly of expensive taste and sophistication. The jabot and dewdrop pendant around his neck suggest he’s Fontainian, perhaps associated with the court there.

You must look like a gaping fish out of water, for the man helps you to your feet with a kind smile. “I must have given you quite the startle. Are you feeling alright?”

His deep baritone rings through you, similar yet so unlike the proud voice of the Geo Archon you’ve grown accustomed to. Blinking twice, you regain your bearings and pray to the Seven—excluding one in particular, who would be very unhappy with you—that the man didn’t notice you gawking at him. “Ah, yes, I’m fine. Again, I’m very sorry for being so distracted. If any of your items are damaged, I’m more than happy to pay for replacements.”

“That is quite generous of you, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary. You see, these boxes merely contain tea, nothing more.” To prove his claim, he bends down to retrieve a box that opened when it landed, revealing simple, sealed bags of leaves.

Your shoulders sag in relief. It truly seems like no damage was done. “Well, at least let me help you wrap them up together. I know a trick that will make carrying them all much easier.”

The white-haired male nods, followed by a subtle smile. “That’s very kind of you. I accept your proposal.”

After a quick stop at another stall to buy twine, you start to work on binding the boxes together. You count more than ten in total—who needs that much tea, anyway? The amount of it is almost comical, but you can’t bring yourself to actually poke fun of the man. Not when he’s looking at you with such an endearing smile. Like he’s seeing you, not just the wife of the Lord of Geo.

Your face heats. “So,” you start, trying to focus on your knots and ties and not the stranger’s eyes boring into you, “can I ask why you’re carrying so much tea?”

“Well, I originally was transporting some goods back to Fontaine for my friends and colleagues, but I decided to partake myself. It was buy ten boxes get half off,” he replies, as calmly as if he were stating an obvious fact.

You can’t help it. A giggle escapes your lips as you quirk your head to the side. The innocence with which this man admitted to being scammed endears you greatly, and you can’t help but play along with him. “You know, that’s a pretty good deal.”

He smiles, then, a subtle thing paired with a tinge of pink along his cheeks. “I thought so, too.”

Your smile grows in tandem. Speaking to others, especially other men, without your husband hovering above the conversation is quite rare for you these days—though you have no doubt you’ll be questioned about it later once Xiao reports the encounter to him, if he hasn’t already—

A hand rests on your shoulder, the landing a bit too heavy and the grip a bit too tight. “Ah, my beautiful wife. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The sound of Zhongli’s voice sends a jump through your bones. Archons, you knew you were being followed, but you’ve never been located and corralled this quickly. A flame of indignation, which has long since dimmed from an inferno to a mere flicker, sparks in your chest. You’re rightly upset that your time has been cut short, and even before you learned this interesting and undeniably attractive foreigner’s name.

You look up at Zhongli and open your mouth to explain the situation, that you were merely helping the other man secure his absurd amount of tea boxes, but the words die in your throat.

The Lord of Geo’s amber gaze is sharp and deadly as stone, directed at the other man. His jaw tightens and he grinds out, “Neuvillette.”

The silver-haired man’s eyes narrow as his gaze roams from the hand on your shoulder to meet Zhongli’s glower. “Rex.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back and forth between the two men who look two moments away from ripping each other to ribbons. It’s obvious they know each other, and the name Neuvillette rings a bell of recognition in your mind. But what really concerns you is the term by which Neuvillette called Zhongli. To your knowledge, no one refers to your captor as Rex Lapis except Xiao, who knows of his draconic—

Oh. Oh.

The realization slams into you with a wave of clarity as your head slowly turns toward the other man. The silver, slitted pupils, the shimmering blue horns and pointed ears, the aura of power and hydro around him…

Horrified, your mouth falls open as you truly take in this man, Neuvillette.

No, not a man. The restored leader of Fontaine, the Hydro Sovereign.

You’ve been casually conversing with not only a dragon, but also the Chief Justice of the Region of Justice. One of the original powerhouses of Teyvat, from which the Seven gained their gnoses. And, given the death of the Hydro Archon, there is currently only one in existence restored to their full power.

“Shit,” you breathe, a bit too loudly. Purple and gold irises snap to you in sync, one filled with thinly veiled concern and questioning and the other with building anger and possession.

On cue, Zhongli snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you taut against his side. You swear you feel the hint of claws digging into your skin through the fabric of your dress, the remnants of his exuvia form.

“I had hoped to avoid meeting you here,” Zhongli states, eyes roaming over the scene, the scattered tea boxes, the twine in your hand, as he pieces together the situation, “but my wife is too kind for her own good sometimes.”

Neuvillette’s eyes browse over your form, examining your tense muscles and downtrodden eyes, the arms that remain at your sides. He’s seen cases just like this time and time again in court, but even so, it doesn’t take a legal profession to ascertain that you’re not particularly fond of your husband. And given Morax’s propensity for contracts, Neuvillette’s senses immediately go on alert.

The Chief Justice clears his throat. “Not at all. I think it quite generous of her to have dedicated her time to making my travels easier.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you’re too focused on Zhongli who, despite his collected demeanor, you realize is a thread away from snapping.

Just what kind of battle between dragons have you gotten yourself into the middle of?

“Is that so? Perhaps she took pity on an old man such as yourself. I hear it can be difficult to carry so much after you’ve departed from your prime.”

“Old man?” Neuvillette barks a laugh, but quickly coughs and regains his composure. “Quite ironic coming from you, Rex. Besides, I feel quite reinvigorated these days. One can only assume it’s due to the balances of power returning to their rightful due.”

Zhongli flashes a hint of his canines, the only giveaway to his building rage. “Rightful is quite a biased term. We wouldn’t want to start a war now, would we?”

Neuvillette’s eyes glint like a sword ready for battle. “And you would know quite a bit about inciting wars, wouldn’t you, Rex?”

Dear Archons, you need to stop this before these two lunge at each other’s throats.

“Zhongli,” you try to placate with a soft voice, the name and tone you know he so adores from you, “I believe that Neu—uh, the Chief Justice was on his way back to Fontaine. I only wanted to help him wrap up his purchases correctly for the journey. If we assist him together, then we can head to the Pavilion for tea after, yes?” Part of you is disgusted at yourself for having to grovel, but you can’t allow two immensely powerful draconic beings to brawl over tea in the middle of the village.

Though you have an strong inkling that the argument isn’t over tea.

Your suggestion lands. Zhongli’s muscles relax as he peers down at you, those immovable, amber eyes softening slightly as he drinks you in. The roaming hands across your back and waist, however, hint that you’ll be getting an earful in private. Though of the likely punishments he has in store for you, that’s the least of your worries.

With a single snap of his fingers, Zhongli uses the power of geo to bind Neuvillette’s parcels together. “There. Consider the issue resolved. My wife and I have matters to attend to.”

Zhongli quickly begins to pull you away, and you think you hear a growl over your shoulder from Neuvillette’s direction. “Careful, Rex. I would be most displeased to have to take one of your contracts to court. In the face of the law, they aren’t as omnipotent as you believe them to be.”

You wince, the statement hitting a bit too close to home. Zhongli, on the other hand, goes as still as stone. “That sounds awfully like a threat, Neuvillette.”

“A mere warning. It is of your own fault to read too deeply into it.”

Neuvillette then turns his attention to you, placing a single tea box into your shaking hands. You have no clue when he separated it from the rest.

Leaning in, his voice drops, low enough to be directed to you, yet you know Zhongli hears it clearly. “You are more than welcome to Fontaine. I will see to your accommodations personally, if you so choose to visit. I believe a spirit like yours would be greatly appreciated in our nation.”

All you can do is shake your head forlornly. Never in a million lifetimes will Zhongli allow it, not even before this encounter. You’ll have to settle for seeing Fontaine through your dreams alone.

Straightening with a frown but understanding the position you must be in, of the contract that binds you to the Geo Archon, Neuvillette lets the matter drop. He turns to leave, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “And her name isn’t wife, Rex. It’s…”

You swallow thickly. “(Y/n),” you finish, a mere breath.

Neuvillette gives you a final smile in return. “My offer will always stand, (Y/n). Happy Lantern Rite.”

Moments after he’s out of sight, Zhongli dips his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and rubbing his over your skin. “You stink of that other male…but I know how to amend that.”

Needless to say, you did not make it to tea that afternoon.

It wasn’t until that night when Zhongli was asleep, clawed limbs and scaly tail entangled with your naked form, that you deem it safe to open the tea box Neuvillette gifted to you.

Core pounding, you grimace as you stand, the many possessive and claiming bite marks and bruises across your skin even worse than usual. He didn’t lie about wiping any scent of the other dragon away, if the past few hours of nonstop sex were any indication.

You make your way to the kitchen trash, where Zhongli had immediately disposed of it upon arriving home. Heart pounding, you lift the lid.

A shimmering blue vision reflects in your pupils.

[beautifulqueerexistence]

Trans spirituality - A Nonbinary Rant

I know there’s a ton of pressure on trans people to transition to a point of passing… but does anyone else feel like they’d still be trans no matter what life they were put in? Like transness is inherently connected to their spirit? And the experience by itself, even with all the rejection and waiting and pain and frustration that comes with it, was always written to be a part of you?

I was never someone who “always knew.” I grew up in an environment that didn’t allow for that, with princess toys and dress up stuff shoved in my hands before I could form a full sentence. And I was, objectively, happy. I carried those experiences until I was 18. My makeup was always done, my clothing was always feminine, I got GOOD at being a girl.

And then, one day, I realized I didn’t HAVE to be. I learned about HRT, I learned about top surgery and binding and packing… and it felt like this other piece of me just… woke up. And never went back to sleep. I fought it for YEARS, pushing off the nagging feeling that HRT and Top surgery were for me. But that piece of me just would not go back to dormancy. They refused. And I couldn’t keep fighting them, I was suffocating myself by pretending they weren’t there.

I was never painfully miserable being a woman, but I knew something wasn’t right. I’m two years on T, almost a month post op after Top Surgery, and being a man feels the same way. Neither are bad, neither are miserable, and I could safely live in both experiences with mild discomfort.

But something in me was always meant to be trans.

Those bandages came off, and I saw my scar shape for the first time, and the flat chest felt like mine… but the SCARS also felt like mine. It’s as if they were always meant to be there. The piece of me that woke up finally took a breath. With every weekly T shot, they take a breath. With every day I wear eyeliner, they take a breath. With every day I grow out my facial hair, they take a breath. That piece of me thrives in the in between. I thrive in the in between.

I think we get so caught up in the experience of dysphoria that we almost forget to discuss the relief and poetry that comes from being trans. In the face of being disowned and ridiculed and threatened, I’m surrounded by the most sincere, supportive, REAL people I could ask for. In the anxiety of battling insurance and laws, I get to exist as my own act of defiance against those who can’t, or won’t even try to understand me. I got the amazing chance of living in the in between and living a life that can only be understood if you live it. And while I’m not trying to dismiss the very real pain and very real struggle that comes from being genderqueer, especially in conservative environments and in the light of recent laws… I try to take time to be thankful that I have spirit worth working for. A spirit worth struggling for. And that the experiences adjacent to that have made me a more empathetic individual to those in other in betweens. That I really, truly appreciate my body and what it’s done for me, because I had to fight to make it mine.

That piece of me just woke up one day, and I don’t think I’d want them asleep again even if I could choose.

[timidpumpkin]

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 3: Relent

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Summary: With a rough night behind them, Steve and Bucky hope to focus on what they brought you here for: to be their good little girl.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, Female reader, Manipulation, Implied panic attack, slight noncon(?), Fluff, Comfort.

Warnings for future parts: Dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome. (Will add more as needed)

Let me know if I missed any!!

Notes: Hiiii sooo this and the last two parts I had already written (for the most part)...months ago..hehe. I definitely plan on doing more within this universe! I super hope you guys like it :)) let me know your thoughts please!! I love hearing from you all!! <333333 I can't wait to do more already <3

Word count: 3.8k

As always:

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI or I WILL block you. (THIS INCLUDES LIKES)

You wake to something cold caressing your face, your whole body is freezing. From your toes to your nose, you feel as though you’re made of ice. As your eyes peel open, you’re met with pale walls in a luminous room. 

It must be morning.

“Wake up babygirl.” you hear Bucky’s voice. You turn to see him, and Steve, looking down at you.

“Are you ready to come out of timeout?” Steve asks. Immediately, tears start streaming down your face as you remember last night. You nod pitifully. Steve kneels beside you. “Did you learn you lesson?” he asks tentatively, wiping the tears from your cheeks,

“Y-yes” you croak out. You can’t help but lean into his warm touch as his large hand holds your face. You’re in so much pain, even more so than when you must have passed out from exhaustion last night.

“Yes, what?” Bucky requests, and you break.

“Yes, dada! Yes, daddy! I’m-I’m sorry! M’sorry I was bad!” you’re sobbing uncontrollably now. “I-I’ve learned my lesson, please-please just let me out!”

Bucky is kneeling on the other side of you now, gently turning your head towards him, hand cupping your face. 

“And what lesson is that doll? What did you learn?” 

“T-t’not run away, I-I won't d-do it again! I-I promise! I-I’ll be good now, I’ll be good, I-j-just please don’t leave me alone again! Please daddy!”

“Okay babygirl, hey, it’s okay now, no more punishment,” he helps wipe away more of your tears, caressing your face now with both hands. You’re too hysterical to notice only one side of your face feels warm.

“We believe you babygirl. We’re going to untie you now. Just sit still while we do okay, angel?” Steve speaks. You can't help but cherish his sweet words to you, as you melt further into their touch.

“Okay dada” you say, tears slowing down. Steve mumbles a good girl and caresses your head one more time before they begin to untie you. You feel relief. Not just because you’re being freed from your binds, but because you know they’re no longer upset with you. They were so mad, so…mean before, and now they’re mumbling praises while freeing you. It makes you feel…content. 

Steve gently picks up your limp form. You have no energy. You barely ate a few bites before you got sent to this room. Steve helps wrap your arms around his neck as your head rests on his shoulder, legs supported around his waist. He carries you downstairs and sits on the couch with you still entangled around him.

He could see how exhausted you were. He hated it. The last thing Steve wanted was for you to be punished on your very first day here, but, what else could they have done? You tried to run away from him, from both of them. You had to learn that it wasn’t acceptable to do that. Soon you'd realize they were doing it to protect you. They could only keep you safe if you're with them, so you have to learn not to run away. 

You hear distant clatter from the kitchen as you sit with Steve. 

He begins rubbing up and down your back. He’s so warm. He wraps a blanket around both of you as he continues tenderly stroking you. He softly kneads at your shoulders and back and rubs the sensitive skin around your arms and ankles. He gently shushes you as some residual tears wet his shirt underneath you. You feel heavy under his touch, but in a good way, as your muscles relax for the first time since you got here. You fall asleep under his touch. 

Steve continues to massage you through your sleep. You feel so delightful on him as tiny huffs of air escape from you. He silently looks forward to the days ahead where you’ll lay atop him and bucky, just like this, all the time. When you’ll wake up to give him soft kisses before asking if you can go play with your dolls. Where you’ll trot through the house showing them your latest drawing. Where you’ll cuddle next to them on this very couch to watch a movie. He knows it’ll take time for you to adjust fully, but he also knows that you easily adapt to them. He knows this because you're perfect for them. 

Steve quietly wakes you from your slumber as breakfast is ready. He places you in the same spot you were just hours ago. Now, there’s a plate full of apples and bananas with a plentiful side of peanut butter and yogurt. Normally, you wouldn’t have picked something as healthy, but you’ll take what you can get. This time, Steve and Bucky eat along with you. It’s quiet while you eat, and after you’ve finished your second cup of milk, Bucky speaks. 

“Feel better babygirl?” 

“Yes daddy…thank you.” you say quietly. You probably shouldn’t be thanking them–definitely shouldn't, but…after your much needed massage and full belly, you can’t help but feel…grateful. 

“You want some more milk?” Bucky asks. You look towards your almost empty sipping cup, and shake your head before remembering to reply. 

“Uh-no…daddy.”

“I think you’d feel even better getting cleaned up, huh doll?” you look up to him at that. 

A shower. 

Oh how nice that sounded right now. You’ve been in the same clothes since yesterday and you honestly feel gross. 

“I-I’d like that…please.” While Steve cleans up, Bucky leads you to their bathroom. When you walk in you notice some neatly folded feminine-looking clothes laying on top of the counter. You stand in the threshold admiring the spacious bathroom again while Bucky starts running a bath. 

“Uhm…I’m okay with just taking a shower” you offer, hoping he’ll leave soon. He looks over his shoulder at you.

“Come here, sit while I get it ready for you.” he motions towards the cloth-covered toilet seat. Did he not hear you? You hesitantly comply. Guess you are taking a bath. He tests its temperature with his right hand, and after there’s enough water to cover the bottom, he turns to you with open arms.

“Come on, let’s get you undressed,” your stomach drops, eyes wide as you freeze. You glance at the door evaluating your escape route. “Don’t be like that, doll.” he orders, a displeased expression on his face. 

“No, I-I mean I can bathe myself…I-I promise…please.” you fret, beginning to shake. 

He sighs, “Look at me,” he demands, “I’m not going to hurt you. Remember what Dada said? We’re going to take care of you…you know why?” You shake your head. 

“Because you’re our little girl. And little girls like you need help taking baths. Now I’m not going to hurt you, but I'm also not going to ask again.” he warns. “don’t make this harder for yourself.” his inflection alone frightens you. You don’t want to find out how this could be any worse than it already is, but you really don’t want to be naked and vulnerable in front of some scary man–one you barely know, and one who is literally holding you captive. 

“N-no please, I-I understand I’m your…little girl, but I-I really can clean myself, I promise I can.” You reason clumsily.

“You’re not listening to me, doll. I’m helping you take a bath, Either you get in this tub, or you get another punishment,” he threatens, “and don’t think I’ll go as easy on you as Dada let last night.” his abrasive threat scares you to your core. What could be worse than being tied and locked up for more than ten hours? You’re at a complete loss for words, paralyzed as he begins carefully peeling off your clothes–slowly. 

To Bucky, it’s anything but. He waited for this moment for months. He’s going to cherish every moment he can. He revels in every inch of skin that gets revealed as he pulls your sleep gown off–the same one Steve dressed you in the night before last when you were still unconscious and unaware of Steve’s enamored gaze. 

“She’s so beautiful, Buck” he runs his hands along your bare sides, sliding down to your outer thighs, pausing when his eyes meet your naked mound. His pupils are blown, any trace of ultramarine gone as his eyes rake your bare form. Bucky places a hand on Steve’s back, silently agreeing with him as he gives him a smile. 

Steve releases a content–yet shaky–breath, before clasping your ankles and moving your legs up so he could swaddle your bottom half into the princess-decorated pull-up. 

Bucky finds himself thinking the same thing Steve said that night, with the same salacious look in his eye as he rids you of your gown. Goosebumps adorn your skin and Bucky relishes in how upturned your head is, eyes ostensibly focused on the plain white ceiling above. No, you weren’t just beautiful, you were fucking adorable.

Once he’s done, he diligently sets you into the warm water. You curl your knees up, trying to maintain a smidge of modesty.

“You want some bubbles?” he asks. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly, wanting anything that helps cover you. “please.” you add shakily.

Whatever kind he adds smells wonderful, and quickly produces enough to cover the clear water. He lets you sit there for a while, watching even after the water is turned off. You lightly pat at the bubbles around your legs, not daring to meet his attentive gaze. After a bit, a small basket is presented to you. He asks if you’d like to play with any toys. The container has a couple different multicolored rubber duckies, a small turtle, and a whale. You look between him and the toys, before picking out one, its cute face calling to you. You let it float around you. At least you’re not completely alone in the tub anymore. Bucky seems satisfied with your choice, happy that you took his offering. 

“Hey there,” you look towards the door to see Steve peeking around. Great, now they’re both here. He walks besides Bucky’s sitting form and leans down, hands on his knees. “how’s it going?” he asks, noticing your wary manner.

“She’s feeling a little shy, but she’ll get used to it.” Bucky responds.

“No need to be embarrassed angel, daddies always help their little girl take a bath. Would be dangerous if we left you all alone,” he says in that patronizing tone he uses. “Have you washed her yet?”

“No, not yet,” Bucky looks to your idle and unmoving form. “babygirl, if you’re not going to play with your toy then it’s time to wash up.”

“I-I can do it.” you think maybe if Steve hears you, he’ll be on your side. Instead, his face falls, and he addresses you by your name.

“I know that’s not true. You may think it is, but it’s not. Now you need to be a good girl and let Daddy clean you up. Besides, the sooner he starts, the sooner it’ll be over. After that,” Steve postures himself up, “we’ll talk about how you need to listen to Daddy and I, and not talk back. Okay?” he looks at you expectantly. You feel defeated that your small protest only resulted in him being up displeased with you.

“I-okay Dada” he purses a smile at you before letting you both know he’ll be in the living room while you finish up.

Once he’s gone Bucky starts shedding his outer layer. Your heart rate skyrockets, terrified he plans to get in there with you. But after his jacket is off, he proceeds to roll up his sleeves and remove a glove from his left hand. You’re not sure how you’ve never noticed it before, but his arm is quite literally made of metal. Horizontal pleats make up his forearm as far as you can see. Your eyes follow its sleek design to see his hands and fingers contain more fine lines and intricate folds. Its sleekness catches the light on certain parts, and you’re just…staring at it.

You watch it as he lathers up a soft-looking loofa, and holds his arms out to you, silently beckoning you to come closer to his side of the large tub. When you look up into his eyes, you’re met with…concern laced in his. He subtly retracts his metal arm, so that his right one is the only one reaching to you. 

“Come on, Doll. Let’s get you clean.” This time his words don’t feel like a demand, rather…an invitation. You scoot yourself towards him and let him work. He gingerly takes his time running the bubbly white suds over your body. You try not to wince at the iciness of his left hand when it touches you. After a bit, it seems to warm up some due to the water. When he gets to your more private areas, you tense. “It’s okay,” he softly reassures throughout, handing you the tiny toy you picked. It helps, but you can’t help but grow hotter than the water around you from being so exposed.

Once he’s done and begins drying you with a giant towel. You realize you’ve barely lifted a finger, and despite how humiliating it was, you do feel a lot better.

You offer to dress yourself, but that suggestions is only met with a scowl. Again, the clothes are obviously something they bought as it’s nothing you own. It's a light-colored onesie with delicate flowers making up the pattern. Small ruffles decorate the bottom, making it look almost dress-like. You’re pleased regardless when he helps your unsteady legs step into underwear and leggings. Finally, as you hold onto his shoulders for support, he slips on some frilly socks that match your onesie perfectly. 

It felt comfortable and when you catch a glimpse of yourself when leaving the bathroom, you almost think your attire looks…cute.

Once you’re back in the living room, Bucky and Steve take a great deal of time explaining the rules to you. 

And there are a lot of them.

The main ones being about how you shouldn’t run away from your daddies. How you should always listen and do what daddies say. How you must always be polite and keep your manners, especially when talking to them. How you need to remember to call them Daddy and Dada, because that’s what we are princess. 

It’s hard to keep track of everything they’re saying. They must pick up on this because Steve reassures you that he knows you’re still going to need time to learn. They end the discussion by sternly reminding you if you are to break any of these rules, especially intentionally, that you’ll get punished. 

They then decide to give you a proper tour of the house. You’ve seen most of the first floor except an office room they quickly show you. There’s a door with several locks, much like the front door, that leads to what must be a basement, but they tell you it’s off-limits and that you’re never to go down there. 

“Why not?” you ask innocently.

“Because Daddy said so,” Bucky replies sternly.

“And because…” Steve leans down to your level after giving a glare to Bucky. “there are dangerous things down there. Things that could hurt you. Daddy and Dada have stuff down there little girls can’t be around. Okay?” You nod your head.

“Okay Dada.” You say. Steve leans up again to see Bucky now giving him a look.

“What? She needs to know, and we should be honest with her if we expect the same from her.” he defends. Honest? He didn’t even really tell you what was down there. 

Bucky rolls his eyes and grunts at Steve as they begin leading you upstairs. There are two rooms connected by a loft that overlooks the living room, and a small bathroom. 

They show you your “playroom” first. It’s the room you must have been in last night as you notice the haunting chair in the corner. The rest of the room is quite…lively though. They let go of the hold on your hands and let you roam around its expanse. It’s lightly colored with accents of pinks and other pastels. A hexagonal tent is in one of the corners with pillows and blankets stacked on the inside. There are several shelves with neatly placed boxes and a variety of toys peeking through them. There’s a table to the side with coloring books stacked on top and a fluffy rug right in the middle. 

“What do you think, babygirl?” Steve probs.

“It’s…nice.” It’s certainly much more than nice. You’ve secretly always wanted a space like this before. You imagine your childhood self would be running in circles around the room if it were given to you. 

Steve takes your hand again and leads you to your bedroom. It’s even more beautiful than your playroom. The color schemes are similar, but pink stands out even more here. There’s a queen size bed in the middle with ruffles covering the sides of it. It reminds you of your outfit. There’s a couch opposite of the bed also supplied with plenty of fluffy looking pillows. On the other side of the room is a…crib. When you notice it you look up to Steve quizzically.

“That’s just in case you’re feeling extra little,” He explains. “you can pick whichever one you want to sleep in babygirl, I promise,” he beams down at you, then lets go of your hand prompting you forward into the room “go on, look around.” 

You want to jump on the bed. You bet it would be so much fun. You feel as though they probably wouldn't like that though. As you get closer to your bed you notice something familiar. No–it’s more than just familiar. You know exactly what it is. 

It’s your stuffie. 

The same one you’ve cuddled with for as long as you can remember. You quickly pick it up, inspecting it for injuries. When all is good, you clutch it to your chest, hugging it tightly. You missed it. And as you inhale its scent you’re reminded of home…your home…where you’re supposed to be. 

No. Actually, you’re supposed to be at work. Right now. Instead, you’re in a foreign place and you’re surrounded by unfamiliar things and you’ve just been given a list of strict rules to follow and you’re not allowed to leave and and and and-

You turn around rashly and start making for the door. Steve is quick to pick you up, securing you to his side. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks sternly before noticing your crinkled eyebrows. “Hey,” he pets the back of your head. “What’s wrong, angel? Something wrong with the room? Something scare you?” He peers around, looking for any abnormalities. You shake your head hard, beginning to get hysterical. 

“N-No! I-I need to go home! I’m supposed to be home! I-I have to work! I’m supposed to be at work, I-I need-I have-” you’re not really sure what you’re saying and you’re pretty sure you start to not make sense as Steve carries you to the bed and sets you down, firmly holding your arms. You’re not even trying to get away from him, you just feel so…overwhelmed. Everything around you is so new. You don’t really understand anything. You do but you don’t. You’re confused. You’re disoriented. You’re scattered. you’re-

“I-I’m scared!” you finally cry out, tears streaming down your face. You feel like you can’t breathe at all. You must somehow communicate that to Steve as he tenderly tries to get you to look at him, both hands engulfing your wet face. 

“Babygirl,” he calls you by your name gently, “hey, it’s okay. Look at me. You’re okay. Just breathe with me, can you do that for me?” he encourages. He asks you to mimic his breathing. It’s hard at first, but eventually, your synchronized breathing fills the room, though yours is still shaky and you’re still crying. Steve picks you up again, bouncing and shushing you lightly. He whispers how you���re okay, and how we got you babygirl, it’s okay. You’re home now. You don’t have to think about any of that, just focus on breathing in, and breathing out, babygirl. Just like that. There you go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, don’t think about anything else. Dada’s got you. You’re okay.

Steve continues talking and bouncing you as you concentrate on his words, breathing in and breathing out. 

You should be pushing him away, attempting to get out of his hold and break for the door again. Yet, his essence is the only thing grounding you. His consoling words are the only thing you hear, his encompassing hug the only thing you can feel. Your body and mind crave his soothing embrace, both tired from fighting the past day. You don’t want to give in, you aren’t–but right now you can’t be burdened with concerns when the only thing that feels right is…

“Dada” you muffle into his neck. Steve hears it’s perfectly clear though.

“Yeah angel,” he continues caressing you. “Dada’s got you. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” he carefully shifts you so he can look at you. Your face is puffy and wet, your lips are quivering and your body is wholly slumped into his hold. “How about we watch a movie?” he suggests tentatively. “anything you want, you choose.” his suggestion seems to work, distracting you from your current thoughts to pick out what you might want to watch. After a moment of diligent selection, you decide. 

“Belle…” 

Steve smiles, “Beauty and the Beast?” you nod your head. “Okay, babygirl. That’s just perfect, let’s go.” he carries you downstairs where Bucky has a bottle of warm milk ready for you. 

This time, you don’t fight Bucky when he delicately moves you onto his lap. The once vulnerable position now feels…welcoming. Bucky does the hard work of holding the heavy bottle up, and when he presses the tip of it to your lips, your mouth opens almost naturally. In the present moment, it’s as if your mind has almost no say in your actions. You feel fuzzy. Not…cloudy, like when you first awoke to that unfamiliar dark room, terrified and confused. No, now you feel as though your mind has no other responsibility than to succumb to the demands of your…daddies. And currently, all that consisted of was suckling on the soft tip pressed gently on your tongue, and remaining nestled in Bucky’s lap. 

Your weary eyes take in the colorful animations, and the songs you know by heart encapsulate all your focus. The warm drink helps calm your insides, while the steady weight of Bucky swaddling you makes you feel engulfed in safety. For the second time today, you fall asleep on the couch. Yet this time, it’s…daddy…who is caressing you to slumber.

[wisecrackingeric-2]

Random (and somewhat silly) Leon Kennedy headcannons

* Leon is a sleepwalker. I have no justification for it other than I think it’d be funny

* Ironically he’s also a VERY light sleeper

* And to add insult to injury, he snores like a freight train.

* Leon is Transgender. Trust me guys he told me himself

* Also got that ADHD Autism combo. Again just trust me you guys he said so himself-

* Bisexual disaster. Probably leans towards men but every gender gives him Gay Panic

* Luis and Ada were his Bi Awakening.

* ((And probably Wesker too. I mean C’mon just look at the guy))

* And just like every Bisexual he CANNOT sit in chairs normally to save his life. If he even bothers to sit on one at all ((Kinda going off the second headcannon; he also sleeps in the WEIRDEST positions humanly possible))

* Leon has permanent Bad Posture. Both from when he used to wear a binder (Transmasc Tingz !!) and from old age

* He hams up his “”old age”” a LOT just to annoy Chris and Claire

* “Ooooooughhh you guys I can feel my bones turning to dust-“ “Shut UP LEON I’m NOT CARRYING YOU”

* Leon also wore a binder for FAR too long. Like he was fighting zombies and doing backflips all while his ribs were screaming in pain

* “Leon when did you last take off your binder” “why do YOU wanna know huh Chris 🤨” “TAKE IT OFF”

* ((Dw guys he practiced safe binding and got Top Surgery. Eventually))

* Leon dyes his hair blonde. You know I’m right

* It’s also like,, surprisingly soft??? He probably takes very good care of it and uses expensive products (probably the only expensive thing he owns)

* He also purposefully cuts it that way. In fact I recon he cuts it himself

* Much more competent people (Jill, Claire, Rebecca) have offered to cut it for him but he’s always refused

* Its one of the few things that reminds him of when he was still a Rookie cop that isn’t also a traumatic memory

* He’s got some PTSD just don’t worry about it ok

* Leon is N O T good at opening up. Like at all. But when somebody DOES manage to crack him he cries s o easily and he will cry for literal hours

* Chris and Claire are the only two people who’ve ever actually managed to successfully get him to open up to that point though

* He also probably sleeps better when he’s with somebody. But he’d never admit that

* Leon’s love language is probably a mix of Words Of Affirmation and Acts Of Service. He’d love it if for once he could come home to somebody having done the little chores for him

* He’s also probably a M A S S I V E sucker for any kind of physical touch. Again, won’t admit it, but he’s a big cuddler.

* Somebody please please please play with this man’s hair he will fall asleep in your lap in seconds

* Now this may be my own Autism special interest shining through but I LOVE the idea of Leon being a massive Pokémon fan

* His favourite games are Ruby, Sapphire and Emerald. Idk man he SEEMS like a Hoenn boy y’know

* His first starter was Torchic and Blaiziken remains as his all-time favourite Pokémon (he’s absolutely correct Torchic is the best Hoenn starter Fight Me)

* Probably still has his Gameboy from when he was a kid

* Leon’s also into retro anime. He likes to get Chris, Jill, Claire and Rebecca over just to show them his old childhood favourite shows like Astroboy or Sailor moon

* Will pause the DVD every 5 seconds to point something out or ramble on about something for 10 minutes

* Oh yeah he also absolutely keeps a DVD player in his home

* He’s a big sucker for old movies, especially old Queer movies but he’s also into classics like Back To The Future, Star Wars etc

*Probably was a big Star Wars kid

*((His favourite movie of all time is Legally Blonde but he will NEVER say that out loud))

* Leon’s always out of the country on some government mission so his house is probably pretty barren. He probably just stays with Chris or Claire after missions anyways

* Leon also still probably keeps in touch with Sherry and Ashley. He definitely went to their respective Graduations to support them at least

* He likes to collect little trinkets from his missions. Rocks, lighters, photos etc

* Other people have put this on their Headcannon lists too but I also agree that Leon is a MASSIVE Foodie

* The way to his heart is through a really good breakfast

* He’s also got a massive Sweet Tooth. Again, courtesy of other Headcannon lists

* He’s got low blood sugar so it probably evens out

* ALWAYS coming home from missions exhausted. In fact he’s exhausted on the plane. On the car ride there. DURING the mission. He’s an eepy little guy

* His T-Shots also make him Very Hungry All The Time. He thought it’d even out after a year of being on Testosterone but over a decade later and he still eats like a teenage boy

* ((It’s ok though cuz Chris always has his fridge stocked full. It might just be for Leon who knows))

* Leon’s not really either a Cat or a Dog guy. He likes both equally and would definitely have one of the other if it weren’t for his work

* He also prefers warm weather :))

* He likes to go swimming with his friends whenever he gets the opportunity

* Everyone makes fun of Chris for his Hawaiian shirts but Leon ABSOLUTELY has way too many as well

* Wears socks and jandals. I’m from Aotearoa NZ I’m allowed to say that ok

*BIG Mitski & Lana Del Rey fan

*I also imagine he probably likes older music like Madonna or Bowie or Blondie

* He’s not very good at it but he likes to paint his nails

* Or he just lets Rebecca or Claire do it for him

* If he goes a long time without cutting his hair either he’ll also put it up in a lil ponytail :)

* He’s got a big ol toothy, lop-sides grin.

* I recon he also involuntarily bites his tongue when he’s genuinely smiling too

* I said before he keeps trinkets and stuff from his missions but he absolutely keeps more personal mementos too. For example;

* He bought himself an old Spanish version of Don Quixote for Luis

* He keeps his old cop uniform in his closet

* He stole Chris’ shades and never returned them

* Still has one of Adas missing rings, etc etc etc

* Similarly to physical objects, Leon also picks up on the habits of people he’s met from his missions

* He always double-checks the barrel of his gun after he’s seen Chris do it so many times

* Holds his knife in his left hand after Krauser

* Very rarely smokes on occasion to remember Luis

* Picked up more Advanced First-Aid after Rebecca ((she also insisted it would be helpful))

* I could go on forever

* Leon can’t imagine ever actually being able to settle down and retire because of his work, but if he could, he would love to be a Father :))

* One last silly one cuz this list has gotten surprisingly serious; Leon unironically references Vines All The Time. It will drive everyone around him insane

[dragonbma]

What’s Sammy like in your AUs? (Personality, but appearance in particular,, had an idea floating in my brain about an animation meme)

Saw this ask and I swear I have never speedrun a concept so fast- it must be partially from the art high I’m getting from the animatic. /j

Sammy infodumping below:

I’ve had a rough idea for their design for a while so I’ll try to sum this up as best I can. Sammy in my AUs (and headcanons for in game) was originally an explorer with Nurm. The duo would go and chart new territories, with Sammy being oriented on studying the fauna/flora of biomes and Nurm mapping. Eventually, the two run into Jack and Vos while on a treasure hunt and decide to help out. One successful treasure hunt later and all four become a group, going on adventures and mapping and such. After a few years, Nurm decides to go off and map new locations while the trio go off adventuring.

Sea Temple time oh boy: The trio stumble upon a prismarine gauntlet while spelunking and accidentally open the original “heckmouth.” (The gauntlet doesn’t have the curse of binding, but the heckmouth does pose a great threat.) Eager to find answers on how to close the dangerous pit, they visit the closest village: Mushroom Archipelago. Sammy, used to conversing with Nurm, translates for the group and they deduce that their best bet lies in a Sea Temple nearby. (Not going into too much detail here because I’m saving it for my fic.) Unfortunately things go awry upon entering the guardian room of the temple when Sammy is killed by the guardians and Vos locked away in the room’s traps.

—Petra reminds Jack a LOT of Sammy which is why he is so quick to open up to her and offer to take her on adventures.

—The potion in Sammy’s inventory at the time of her death was given to her by Vos (something to help defeat the elder guardians with like strength or speed.)

Personality:

—very similar to Petra (laid back, group mediator, etc)

—experienced archer and biologist (cartographer too after joining Jack and Vos)

—always carried a journal in her bag filled with sketches of biomes, plants, mobs, etc

—would have loved lush caves if she found one

Design Notes: (may be changed in final reference)

—bandages around hands help with climbing trees (usually to get to a vantage point for shooting)

—cape is very short and is often worn around neck or waist (also her diamond is in the center)

—every bit of me is holding back adding more plants to her apparel

—colors may be changed in her final design, but you’re absolutely free to use them nonetheless

—Hehe also as a little easter egg, for those of y’all who pay close attention to my drawings of Vos, you’ll know he carries leaves in his bag. Yes, that has always been a nod to my Sammy design. I may be slightly in denial that he’s dead, but he always plants to remind himself of her.

I cannot wait to see your animation meme omg. ^^ That sounds so freaking awesome—

[myheroacademia-headcanons]

I’m the one who asked for a scenario for my girl Seiko, and you asked for more info about her. So here you go! Her Full name is Seiko Yangsawa, She’s in her late forties (47-48), she has pale blue skin, green-yellow hair tied in a bun. And her quirk, Jellyfish, allows her to do anything a jellyfish can do, So, she can produce venom, sting someone with her tendrils, and has a body made of mostly water, (she still has some organs tho), and due to her size and build, she’s REALLY strong.

Not sure If this is remotely close to what she looks like but I'm a visual thinker.

So, I imagine she (Seiko) is really excited to meet the kids. Strikes me as the kind of adult who is just really invested in them. As for the kids' reactions:

Everyone is interested and has a few questions. Midoriya probably bombards her with questions about her abilities and fighting style. Todoroki probably asks a really awkward question about the way her body works without realizing it's weird but I imagine she'd take it like a champ. Bakugo wants to spar like they did with Mirio. He's curious what would happen to her body of water if he blasted her but he doesn't actually ask.

A lot of the girls are super excited and have questions about being a female pro-hero. Uraraka and Sato are eager to learn some of her close combat moves. Kirishima and her debate strength; he's fascinated by how strong and durable she is by being soft-bodied (the opposite of him). Asui is super interested in meeting her and learning about her aquatic crime fighting and other operations as well as binding techniques that my carry over from tentacles to tongue.

The most interesting is Ashido. This is Ashido's favorite hero. Low key, acid man was inspired by Seiko's water body and strength. Even though they have very different fighting styles, appearances, and strengths, Ashido has always seen her as a role model for female heroes and inspired her to be a hero in her own unique way.

[lutawolf]

Never Let Me Go, Episode 9-10

Yup, that's right. I waited for episode 10 to come out before watching 9. I don't feel bad about it, either. Cause damn, I saw all the gifs, and I was not here for it.

Ahhh. The way Palm says, "Don’t underestimate my love. I don’t know if Mr. Nueng and I will be together in the future. But right now, The feelings and memories that I share with him, They will always remain with me." This is so important to me. We discount young people's feelings too often. Age is important and should always be taken into consideration, but individuals should be looked at individually. Palm has had to shoulder a lot of responsibility for a very long time. He is the type to make a decision and stick to it. He's solid and steady. "To be honest, I don’t know what the future holds for us. But my feelings will remain unchanged."

Nueng is the opposite. Just look at how he is when Palm is stressed. He was desperately looking for love. He doesn't think things completely through. Carries a much more immature look at life. It would almost seem that they aren't a good match. Oh, but they are. A flighty person can be stabilized by someone like Palm, they'll become the wild geese that mate forever because they just need someone to latch their feelings to. And Palm needs someone like Nueng to lighten the weight that he willingly carries. Hence, the next scene where he makes him smile. Palm, for all his shyness, adores it.

I love that Nueng can read Palm so well. That's something a good Dom should absolutely be able to do. No joke, Nueng just Dominated in a way that a lot of females will dominate their male submissives. It's a playful, but I will get my way, type of way. It's a soft Dom move.

"Why did you get a tattoo of my name?" "I want you to stay with me forever." In my belief system, there are kindred spirits and soulmates. Kindred spirits are those friends that journey through lifetimes with you. We get matching tattoos or tattoos with those people in mind, in order to make sure that we meet in each life. I actually have plans on getting a coconuts tattoo. A soulmate tattoo makes sure you and your soulmate are together forever, like the red thread. That's what this feels like. A soulmate tattoo. The shoulder kiss is everything!

Oh yeah, he is binding them as soulmates. No getting away for you Nueng. Palm being so fucking romantic. Where do I find me a romantic like Palm???

So now they are going back. For Palm's dad. The skin to skin contact for both their comfort. Nueng talks in circles around his fears, but Palm understands him.

"I’m glad that you come to live with me. I’m glad that I have the chance to be your mom, even for only a couple of weeks. Your dad raised you well. I’m sorry that I have never taken care of you." She's not a horrible person. Just not the best. It sucks that she died, but I'm really glad Nueng got that closer.

Oh, shit. There is so much to unpack in this one scene. One is in pain and is absolutely not used to someone being there when he is breaking. So he lashes out. He's a wounded and went away to lick his wounds and doesn't want to be seen. Then he realizes who he has lashed out to. This is his other half, and he immediately regrets, but Nueng does come from a loving family. This is not something you would do if you love another person. The push away in his head is full rejection.

For him, it's like Palm is saying it's his fault. Lots and lots of layers here. Guilt, rejection, and fear that the one he loves will die just like his dad and Palm's mom. "When we are together, something bad always happens. You and I, we shouldn’t be together." "Don’t ever come to see me again. Otherwise, you may end up dead."

That last part. You can see it click in Palm's head what is really bothering Nueng. Now, just because a sub is subby sub doesn't mean they won't fight for what they want. They like being told what to do, but a Dom is their everything, they will absolutely fight for them. Again, I would lean towards Nueng being a switch or soft Dom, but Palm is for sure a subby sub.

If I didn't know from all the spoilers, I would know from how Nueng is acting that he plans on leaving. He has a fake attitude but sad smile whenever Palm isn't looking. Nueng can read Palm, but Palm hasn't learned to read Nueng.

Song from the dance scene. One kisses to say goodbye, and the other kisses because he's never had someone be there. "What would your life be like if you didn’t meet me?" "I guess I would be working on a boat somewhere. I would spend my day catching fish." In Nueng's head, that sounds perfect, so he can't believe Palm when he says, "My life would be very boring. I think it’s a good thing that I met you." That's why he says. "But I imagine your life differently. I think your life would be happier. You might be taking an exam to get into a university. You might be an athlete." and he goes on, because in his head, Palm is with him out of duty. He's putting himself in a place to get hurt out of duty, and Nueng can't handle that.

"But everything that you said, I can do that with you." Nueng's face is breaking me.

Ep 10

"Before you lose everything." "But I still have you."

Both of them trying to protect the other one. Same goal, but they can't achieve it in the same way. Nueng has matured so much in such a short time. "Don’t choose me to be the goal of your life. I still want to see you follow your dream." Um… Who gets in a bath tub with boxers, and just how big is that tub? Ahh... It was a flashback.

Nueng pouring his heart out to his mom is killing me. I'm not crying. Your crying! Ahhh fuck! Now I'm really crying. His jersey. Really. I'm not fucking okay. Now sentimental and romantic flashbacks. Just leave me in a puddle here because of melted into tears.

The river told me lies! OMG, this song kills me.

And Nueng has hardened. He already had his innocents stripped with his dad, but everything that has happened since. It's changed him. Too many people have hurt him and he needs that wall to survive. He's seen what real friendship and love is, and if people want to get next to him, they are going to have to prove capable of that level. I'm the same damn way, so I respect this.

That boy didn't learn shit Nueng.

These flashbacks are killing me! "You plan on having fun without me. Then I won't teach you." Yup, Nueng is a soft Dom. They are so fucking cute.

I like these bodyguards. Yes I do. They are like, do I look like I give a fuck that this is the music room. What Nueng said might be harsh, but it's fucking fair. Just because I don't want you to eat at my table doesn't mean that I want you to starve. It just means that you've done enough to me that I don't want you at my table. Now I'm a big believer in not forgiving people but just moving on. I'll forgive those that have made it through the wall, but I don't feel the need to forgive someone who betrays me. I don't hate them because hating isn't worth it. It only hurts you, and the people you hate don't care.

Yeah, did you really think that he would leave you? As long as you love him, he'll be there. "But you are my life."

"Is this how you treat people? The time that we shared together. The things that we did together. Do they mean nothing to you?" "They mean a lot to me. Believe me. It was the best time of my life. So I want to treasure it. I want you to stay alive and be happy."

"I won’t let you run away from me again. From now on, if we are going to fight, We will fight together. If we are going to die, We will die together." Those are some solid vows. And look at the soft Dom forcing a promise from the subby sub. "You can wear your boyfriend’s clothes." Fuck, I'm not surviving this show.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, all these vows are going to kill me!!! And the way he pulls him to him. Damn.

The next episode is gonna be another tough one. Ugh. But this one. This one was so good. Hope you guys enjoyed! 💜💜💜

[unholywriter]

Chapter One

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

Warnings: None.

“We’re all Runaways.”

Chapter Two - A Rouge to be.

Ironheart, wildly known for its ore and bitter cold nips within the air was beginning to wake up. A few early birds trudged through the at least two and a half feet of snow. Carrying baskets full of fresh bakes to take to the bakeries or deliver, and their cloaks dragging behind them. Men that were the guards with great-swords, maces and ax’s at their back exit the barracks for their shifts today. The ones who were on the graveyard shift stumbling back inside.

Nor’i sniffled soldering soon to find the nearest open shop. Walking up into the market square the snow was being shoveled away, leading paths too entrances of building’s and stalls assorted in even spaces.

Inside the warmth hit like a brick, it was a rush of chills that ran down her spine but again very welcomed. A young looking Elven fellow sat at the counter, scribbling away onto some parchment. As Nor’i approached, he did not look toward yet. He had long, dirty blonde hair that was shaven at the left side. On his ears were two black jeweled piercings that were placed at his lobes. His honey toned, tired eyes continued to keep their attention as he wrote, and Nor’i had to clear her throat to have those same honey toned eyes look at her.

“Gods I’m sorry, would you believe me if I said I didn’t hear you come in?” He spoke, his tone just a sweet.

“I might now since you’re the least rude person I’ve bumped into today.” She replied, a tilt at her head but not an emotion aside neutral blankness could be noted. A small smile tugged his lips as he tried to shake the apparent grogginess away.

“We’ll it is the morning, and my sister had to have me open up this early because we have to maintain business.” He set the quill down.

“Ah yeah, siblings. I was an only child though, but I do count my childhood friend as a brother. He would always make sure I was up not a minute later then the time we were supposed to be.” A small smile was finally displayed. She remembered those simple times all to well.

“Sounds like our siblings are alike then. On another note - welcome too Linnie and Vinnie’s, traveling shopkeep. We range with various goods. You can find armor, too the potion of fire breathing that might save your life in a pinch. What can I do for such a beautiful woman like you this fine morn’?” He put his face into his right palm, that smile still not subsiding.

“I’d like to possibly grab a few health potions, see your selections of daggers, and browse your best light armors.” She headed straight to the point, ignoring his attempt at flattery.

“And the beautiful woman knows exactly what she wants, I like you even better my amastacia.” He got up, heading to pull a set of daggers out. “These are our non magical daggers that deal quite a good lot of damage if used right. Some of the finest elven smithed daggers you can find, straight from the chambers of a high bidder that decided to swindle me if you catch my drift.” After a quick wink, he bent again pulling out a red velvet box, opening it to revel a short black dagger. “This is a personal favorite of mine, blinking in and out of existence. It’s got me out of quite a few binds.” He picked up the blade, running his finger over it. “I’d hate too see it go, but if I know it’s in good hands, I might give it to you at discount price. Especially if you decide to come find me to do more business later down the road.”

“You don’t even know me.” Another tilt to her head, and that empty look upon her face still lingered. “I might never come to find you after this transaction.”

“I’m quite perceptive.” He twirled the blade around his fingers now, his grin tugging even further.

“Is that all you’ve got?” She questioned, placing her hands down and leaning forward on the counter. “Or are you holding out on me?”

He chuckled, setting the blade down. “Sadly I’m being honest. We’re fresh out of wondrous daggers for now until we head into the trade market in a much more refined area.”

“And this dagger is magical? I’ll have to attune right?” Nor’i questioned now, finding an interest in said dagger. A special friend not to far back would have liked this one. She smiled internally too herself.

“Yes.”

“How much.”

“A thousand gold.”

“You said you might give me a discount price.”

“If I knew it were in good hands.”

“My hands have a lot of experience, don’t worry about that part. Good? I’ve been tittering on a fine line there for a while. Skilled on the other hand, there’s a difference.” He went and placed his hand over the hilt of the blink knife now.

With a narrow of his eyelids and a shifty grin he spoke, “Is that so.” At the pit of her stomach she felt it. In a flash he blinked out, and in a split second she had grabbed both the daggers laid down, and turned where he’d be just as quick. One was at his neck, the other at his stomach both at an angle to kill. His blink dagger’s tip lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. Nor’i’s cheeks burned from the sudden closeness. But she felt no real danger, even with a blade so close that could kill. The thrill got her blood pumping in away she admitted made her even flushed than usual. “You’re not a fine-tuned Rouge yet.”

“Monk first, Rouge later.” Her eyelids narrowed with a playful glare. He let out another set of chuckles now, she still holding him at knife point just the same.

“My names Linnie.” He dropped the dagger at his side finally, moving a step back to give her space.

“I don’t have a name, got it?”

“That’s fine by me, amastacia suits you well. So get used too it.”

-

Nor’i walked out of Linnie and Vinnie’s with a blink dagger, a new set of leather armor that isolated heat for the cold weather. It kept her quiet and well defended whilst not putting her at disadvantage on her movements. A couple healing potions were in safe keeping, and she continued on to grab some rations for a week. Into the bag of holding it all went.

She followed the tavern keep’s instructions next. At least to pop by. Most all nobles expect punctuality right? Down a long walled path, she managed to stop at a tall looming gate. It felt like death here, and she didn’t like it all to well. The gate itself had been pushed open previously. Snow piled at the other side, and a path of footprints she’s been following continued on. It had snowed late that night so, this is a new set. A new visitor. At least unless the servants here don’t live in this mansion.

Up the steps too this light bricked, wooden logged manor and too the big set of double doors she shifted on. Nor’i took the large knocker at the dark elm door, slamming down a couple times to get the message a-cross.

Thirty seconds pass, and a few snow flakes began to flow around her again. The wind catching exposed skin, and the cold still blistering the tip of her nose and ears. A lock, and then another lock and slowly with a heavy pull came to view a small man with a hunched over back peering at the new visitor to his Lordship’s home.

“O-oh dear me. Wasn’t expecting this many visitors for Lord Euston this early in the morning today.” He spoke so timidly, it made Nor’i taken aback.

“Sorry to drop in so early, I’m here about possibly looking into the mysterious death of his son.” She explained bluntly, which took the servant off guard quite easily as well. A pass like ping pong if you will.

“Well, it is quite early. Although, I do know he wakes at five in the morning. That is if he’s gotten a lick of s-sleep at all.” He clasped his hands together, and looked nervously over his shoulder. “You can come in and wait here with our other visitor.” He turned back too Nor’i. “Please, please follow me! It’s very frigid out there.”

He lead her inside, and too her right she saw the same person who knocked into her early this morning. What in the Gods is he doing here?

“Are you positive he’ll be able to speak to me?” Nor’i questioned now, a slight annoyance left her lips.

“I-I’ll have to go and find out. Just can’t leave any guests out in the cold no, no, no. That won’t do at all.” He held out his hand to gesture for her to stand next to the other guest he spoke of. “Please do wait here. I’ll be back with Lord Euston’s word.”

And with that he turned heal still hunched with such bad posture it made Nor’is back hurt. His still hands were clasped together and he swiftly walked with fast pace up the steps and turned down the great hall to his left. That left Nor’i and this jerk that didn’t say sorry or at least help her up in the tavern. She made her way and stood at least a good five feet from him. A minute of silence past. She didn’t say a word, and then another, and another. Her fingers fidgeted and with a deep breath in she spoke.

“You know you usually are supposed to apologize when you run into people.” Nor’i didn’t look back to him when she spoke. He nor to her, paying no true intentional mind to make proper conversation. But he did reply, for the sheer impatience of having to wait only.

“I believe you ran into me.” His tone, it was well snobby putting. This made Nor’i snap her head back to him finally. Looking his very well put posture over, his upper class clothing that was well tended too. If he was an adventurer, his scuffles he’d get himself in only meant he’d take extra time to mend his clothes. Unless he’s a wizard or sorcerer of some kind? Mending would be so easy with that spell. “I believe you’re the one being rude now staring me down I might add.”

Nor’i didn’t look away as their eyes met. “Staring? No. Sizing you up, and possibly coming to a conclusion that you’re an asshole who doesn’t give two shits about the people around him? Yes.”

A scoff come out if his mouth, and he turned away to look back toward the stairs. “I have no time for your peasantry attitude.”

“I come from a fine line thank you.” She looked back away with the biggest look of annoyance plastered upon her face. At least, her line was good before her mother and father past, having her grandfather snap and make the monastery into an unbearable, viscous cult sucked and haunts her every move.

He didn’t say another word, and neither did Nor’i. A couple minutes later and the servant who greeted them both came slowly down the stairs. His back still hunched over, and his hands still clasped within the other. Stopping before the two, a look of pure belittlement was read upon his features. “I’m sorry, Lord Euston will not be taking visitors today.”

“I’ve been trying to contact him for a day now, does he not have time for one simple conversation?” This stranger at which has not been named yet rose out one of his hands in gesture.

“I thought all of you nobles were in each other’s pockets.” She muttered, which the man did hear at which he shot another look of annoyance toward her. The servant looked amongst them two now. His nervousness well apparent.

“You just said- Oh forget about it.” He looked to the servant yet again. “Reginald, please could you let Lord Euston know it’s urgent.”

“I did, but he is very busy I’m afraid. His business takes a lot of his time.” The servant now known as Reginald spoke up yet again. “That means he will not be seeing any visitors.”

“There’s no changing his mind if you attempt again Reggie?” Nor’i huffed. Reginald sort of hesitated with the use of a nickname from a stranger girl, but he nodded to reply.

“Uh, yes there would be no use.” He simply tried putting a bold line under his answer.

A sigh left the young man’s lips and he put his hand to his forehead, pressing glasses he wore further back to fit against the bridge of his nose properly. Softly he muttered, “There’s got to be away to talk to him.”

“That’s a shame.” Nor’i pipped up, but then she took one step forward and began to walk past him.

“W-Wait! You can’t-“

With a quick swift whip, out came her trusty Thumper to halt Reginald’s movement’s as it pointed directly at his nose. “I’m seeing your Lord, so if you value your pretty little face, I’d suggest you not make any actions against me.”

With narrow of her eyelids added, the sheer panic set in as he held up his hands. “I d-don’t want any t-trouble! But I beg you, h-he should not be disturbed!” A high pitched squeak left his throat, making Nor’i almost feel sorry for him.

She let the staff fall at her side and she began on. The young noble stranger that stood where he was the entire time, watched as she made her way up the stairs now. He did like the fact she seemed to want to get things done, and he did believe this young bratty woman had no evil malice to her. Although, quite chaotic to be frank. He sighed, knowing this was his chance. He then began to follow in foot, as Reginald begged for both to cancel this brashness. 

Footnote: amastacia “star flower" in Elven.

Chapter Three

[silverfoxstole]

Seamstress’s Log: NotD coat Day Six. It’s very satisfying when a project comes together to the point where it starts to look more or less as you envisaged.

Mind you, I honestly can’t remember the last time i did so much unpicking. My seam ripper will be blunt at this rate, and everywhere I go in the house I’m followed by bits of green thread. I’ve been through seven lots of bobbin thread and will need another one before I’m finished!

The ribbon for the sleeves finally arrived yesterday; you keeping your fingers crossed obviously worked, @theancientvaleofsoulmaking !

Once the sleeves were together and I started setting them in I realised that, despite having checked on the toile and then added an extra inch just in case, they were going to be too short even if I took the tiniest hem allowance. That got me into a bit of a panic but I tried a sleeve facing instead of a hem and fortunately they sit exactly where I wanted them. Phew! If they hadn’t I’m not sure what I would have done! Sleeve facing is visible here; it’s just a ring of extra fabric added at the end and turned in so that the seam line is just inside the cuff:

As I was messing about with that I realised that the sleeves were actually far too wide, especially at the cuffs. I have twiglet wrists so that wasn’t going to be a good look! I ended up taking in the sleeves both at the cuff and most of the way up the back seam to reduce the fullness and they’re much better now.

With the sleeves in I could then add the sleeve heads, shoulder pads and the chest shield, all of which I always now include in any tailored garments I’m making. For the first coat and jackets I made I didn’t use shoulder pads - probably because as a child of the 80s they just bring power suits and Dynasty to mind! - but I now know that they’re essential for shape and structure. It doesn’t look pretty but this is the inside afterwards:

With that sorted I finished the lining off, though I ended up sewing the skirts on three times having realised I’d put them in the wrong place. It would have been twice, but the second time I managed to sew them in exactly the same way I had originally so had to do it again! A combination of the instructions not being very clear and my brain evidently wandering off somewhere, which it has a tendency to do at times. 🙄

I got the skirts on the shell today, though had to do that twice because again I’d got them slightly out. That done I decided to carry on and sew the shell to the lining at the facings and had another panic when it seemed the lapels weren’t going to end up the right shape. Thankfully after a bit of messing about (unpicking, resewing, unpicking, resewing again, rinse, repeat) I did get it sorted and I think they’ll be OK.

And after all that this is how it’s looking now!

The lining still needs to be attached inside, and the binding and under collar to be added as well as buttons and buttonholes. There’s going to be a fair bit of hand finishing needed which I can’t say I’m over the moon about as my hand sewing is not the neatest but there we go. The collar attachment is a funny one and I hope it’ll look OK; I should really have tried it on the toile. I ordered some green melton under collar wool which will hopefully come by the weekend; I do already have some in navy blue but I didn’t like the way it looked. In the meantime I will give myself a day off tomorrow (though it won’t be really as it’s cleaning day…)!

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

chaeyoung rolls her eyes before quitting her assault on jungkook’s neck especially after threatening to sue her for harassment. it only angers her more when he makes her cover herself. treating her like she should be ashamed when he’s seen it all before. he’s seen her naked and hasn’t discouraged her when they were fucking and now he wants to cover her up? part of her does feel embarrassed but her boiling anger only rises when he mentions you again.

“shut up! you act like me having this baby is a crime and it’s not. why can’t you just accept that you and i will be tied forever? i can’t have you, fine. but this” chaeyoung then rubs the small bump and jungkook is visibly disgusted. “this will always link us together no matter what”

“i have no problem with you wanting her but she’s gonna have to share” smirks chaeyoung who tries to make a move on jungkook again. taking his hand and rubbing it on her growing bump. “doesn’t it feel good to know that i’m carrying your seed? i hope our baby looks just like you”

again he’s gently trying to push chaeyoung off of him but she doesn’t back away. again chaeyoung closes the space between them and kisses all over jungkook, reminiscing on the times she had him all to herself willing and ready. even though he was drunk, he still was responsive to her and he is a man after all. surely you can’t give him what she can and you don’t have what she has.

she’s carrying his baby and she won’t stop until she has him entirely. he’s just being stubborn, that’s all. playing hard to get like when they first met but she likes a chase.

she loves him.

“i don’t care about my career all i care about is you. why can’t you see that? you’ve always wanted a devoted woman and you have one. y/n will always choose someone else over you. she chose jorja instead of telling you the truth, she chose namjoon over you, and guess what? she chose ME over you by convincing you to let me keep our baby. you should ask her that since you claim she’s the love of your life and for the last time, i’m not getting rid of our baby so i hope you got our baby’s room together. i think it’s a boy”

He scoffs, Trying his best to not be too forceful, but he has to get her off of him because she’s constantly touching him, and he has to come back home to you. “You’re disgusting! YOU DISGUST ME I TRIED TO BE CIVIL AND I TRIED BEGGING YOU, BUT YOU DON’T LISTEN.” He screaming at her.

He’s had enough of her bullshit.

“YOU DON’T LOVE ME LIKE YOU CLAIMED. YOU DON’T. I LOVED HER AND I LET HER GO MANY TIMES AND YOU CANNOT EVEN LET ME GO. YOU ARE SELFISH.” He is glaring at her as he removes his hand from her belly. “ I DON’T WANT THIS CHILD AND NOR DO I WANT YOU.” Jungkook tries to get up. “I NEVER LOVED YOU.”

She’s still kissing him, digging her nails onto his neck. “QUIT IT!” He won’t ever come here ever again. She’s crazy even more than him.

He should have never come here.

“I WON’T ACCEPT THIS CHILD, SO WHY SHOULD I HAVE A ROOM? I DON’T CARE IF IT’S A FUCKING BOY. I NEVER WANTED THIS..” of course he has to give her a reality check once again.

“And she’s not obsessed with me like you, sure. But her love makes me so happy and she’s never chosen anyone over me. She is a very intelligent woman and…. What do you know about Love? you don’t love me..”

“you cannot control me and cannot bind me to you forever. Haha pathetic.” He laughs, cruelly. “ go ahead and give birth to this child, so you can be a single fucking mother..”

“SHE WILL NEVER HAVE TO SHARE ME, BECAUSE I’LL ALWAYS BELONG TO HER. She’s mine and I’m hers.”

“You’ll never EVER see me again, Chaeyoung.”

He finally managed to get up without hurting her physically, and he doesn’t even spare her a glance before leaving her apartment.

And coming back to you forever.

[medusanova]

Andylind + Andreas tries to break Rosalind

Posting this one below the line — aka, this is what happens when Anne asks for ‘wild.’

(tw: blood, bondage)

“I’m going to ask one more time. Where were you?”

Soft, strained breaths puffed against the cracked stone as strong, manicured hands, marred by the jagged lines of war, pressed against the wall on either side of him.

“I said, I don’t remember,” he gritted again through clenched teeth. Sweat dripped down his forehead, tracing cooling lines of strain into his beard as he writhed and tugged against the tendrils binding his mind, holding all of his limbs in place like prey that had already been led to slaughter. He was well aware that wasn’t far from the truth.

She made a small tutting sound near his ear. “Shame. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to using this…” He swallowed a soft whimper when the tip of a crimson-stained blade slid slowly over the delicate skin under his ear to the pulse point of his neck. “Oh, who are we kidding, my good little soldier,” she sighed, the touch was a gentle caress and an oddly pleasurable sensation coming from the woman who was now in front of him with that seductively sadistic smile. “We’re both dying for me to.”

It was so distracting that Andreas barely noticed when the blade carved a small slice up his cheek. All of her movements were deliberate, calculated. Even now, Rosalind used every move and weapon to her advantage.

She dragged a blood-stained finger first over his cheek then slowly down his neck, and lightly over his bare chest where she led the painted trail to a stop right over his heart.

“Such a perfect, docile soldier. Always carrying out my commands. And yet…” The knife was back, resting just below Andreas’ bare navel with a slight pressure that revealed a new well of blood, a dark contrast against his fair skin. “And yet. He can’t answer a simple question.”

That voice, that captivating voice that lilted like delicate lace yet commanded like forged steel was enough to push Andreas over the edge right then. He could feel it there, tingling at the base of his spine, raging through the nerve endings in his core. But he held it at bay.

“Please I- I told you that-” he broke off with a groan as that tongue, that familiar, sinful tongue that had reprimanded him so many times, began to take the crimson path from his blood-stained cheek, descending slowly along his pulse, and lingering maddeningly over the beat of his raging heart. Where that long, deliciously wet trail soaked the hair on his chest and ignited a blazing inferno that consumed his very being.

“Shh,” she rose up to meet his gaze. “What are you hiding from me? Why can’t you tell me where you were when I was brought back, hm?”

Again she moved, predatory and possessive, down his body, maintaining eye contact with Andreas as she placed a soft hand on his sticky, red cheek while the other crept slowly, painfully slowly down his body until, eventually, Andreas could feel Rosalind’s palm run over where he ached the most.

“Now, I’m going to give you one final chance,” A primal, almost animalistic feeling of pleasure shot up Andreas’ spine, which left him moaning and desperate to arch into the palm of his captor with no chains. His torturer with no pain. 

“Why was the Dragon Flame the one who was there to free me instead of you?” And that's when he couldn't take it anymore, when he fell apart. When he broke and poured himself, bloody and shivering and spent, into her waiting palms.

[tonifoto]

Hello,  I have exciting news: my zine “Leap!” will be exhibited at an event called Booked 2022 in Helsinki! “Leap!” is my first photography focused zine I put together back in January 2022 and it is a project I’m very proud of. Its interesting to see something so personal make its way into a public space. In this week’s post I wanted to share a little about this zine without giving too much away. 

To put it simply, Leap! is about my permanent move from Canada to Finland to live with my partner after five years of semi-long distance relationship. In other words it attempts to celebrate a new chapter in my life. Here is some info about the book:

48pages / 210mm x 133mm Thread sewn binding Matte paper 130gm

All of the pictures in this book have a dark tone but I think that reflects Finnish winter pretty well. I wish there were more light but it is what it is (I like this saying).  By contrast, I always get a warm feeling when looking at them since they are essentially ordinary everyday things that me and my partner enjoy doing, one of those being long outdoors walks in nature.

You might be wondering about the hare on the cover. There are pictures and paintings of hares scattered throughout the book. I noticed when I was looking through my archive for the initial selection of images I noticed how many pictures of hares there were. They were mostly shot through a window since, if I were to open the door it would skip away instantly. I noticed them quite often, so it probably meant something right? I sometimes like to look up symbolism and meanings for things and I read that the hare represented new beginnings. I thought it fit and I rolled with it.

This project made me realize how much I enjoyed putting images together into a book. I’ve been a book collector since my early teens, collecting books from artists I like, old and new as well as picture books. Aside from the art itself, the image placement, end paper selection, paper weight, the binding and much more are what excite me. It seemed like only a matter of time before I started making my own. I wondered for a long time why I enjoyed books so much - I haven’t come to a conclusion but it is probably has something to do with it being tactile. 

For those curious about cameras - I used my trusty Fujifilm XT1 with a 23mm F2 for all the images (I think). To my surprise it survived daily use in sub-zero temperatures as well as heavy snowfall!

Lastly, as much as I doubt anyone in the right area will see this (It always feels like I’m speaking into the void), here’s the information for the event just in case. The event will carry some copies of Leap! for sale as well.

26 November - 18 December 2022 MUU Helsinki Contemporary Art Centre Cable Factory, Tallberginkatu 1 C, Helsinki

If you’re not in the area but are interested in buying a copy. Just send me a DM! The money will go to printing costs on future books or zines since I’d like to keep this ball rolling. 

One day I’d like to talk more in detail about how the idea developed the picture selection process as well as inspirations behind the sequencing and design (My favorite part) but for now this preview will do.

Thanks for reading my ramblings.

[kleiner-ghost]

Egor x Reder [Loop 1]

Turns out getting shot in the head helps you remember things better.

Because there are not enough, if any, fics shipping me the reader with Egor.

"Hey, we're heading to Updam, for the concert and then the party, care to join?" A fellow eternalist asked you. With his black and gold outfit he really did look like he'd fit at Alexsis' manor. The pistol he carried on his hip further played into that aesthetic.

"Nah." You replied.

"Hoping to catch a glimpse of Doctor Evans?" Another eternalist cut you off before you could finish. Her whole thing was blue and purple, and if the bloodstained on her pantsuit were anything to go by, she'd already enjoyed her first day plenty.

"Hoping to catch a glimpse of my employer actually." You corrected her, as you hopped onto a crate behind you, further indicating that you were not leaving.

"Your loss." The eternalist in blue and purple shrugged and headed off.

"You sure?" The man in black and gold insisted. "It'll be fun. There's gonna be music, and alcohol and drugs."

"And Alexsis." You added. "Come on, look me in the eye and tell me he doesn't creep you out."

The eternalist did not meet your gaze, and instead looked to the side. The two of knew what he was thinking about. Alexsis had a reputation, one that had made you, and a handful of other sensible people, to question the real meaning of "devouring of the lambs". You suspected that Wenjie made corpses vanish to prevent Alexsis from digging a knife and a fork into one.

"Women, wine and song." The eternalist who's been trying to convince you went back at it. "You can't really be staying behind to meet doctor Serling?"

You shrugged.

"I wanted to see Wenjie too, but she threw a bottle at that guy," you pointed at an eternalist in a red glitter suit who was sitting on ground, fixing up his minigun while muttering something under his breath, "and now I'm scared I'll get shot."

"Why?" The guy in black and gold asked, visibly perplexed.

"I'm curious. And also slightly... paranoid, I guess is the word. Have you ever thought about why they want us here, the visionaries?"

The man before you shrugged.

"I was friends with a guy who was friends with a guy whose cousin met Ramblin' Frank in jail. I got offered an eternity of partying and I could not refuse."

It seemed by his demeanor that he was just about done trying to convince you.

"An eternity, exactly!" You exclaimed, and almost lost balance atop your crate. "There will always be a tomorrow to party, but there won't be another today to figure out who we're working for."

The eternlist shook his head, seemingly saying 'your loss', and headed off towards one of the trucks that still had space in it.

You watched him go, and hopped off your crate. The sun was slowly setting, and the temperature had began to drop. You reached to the holster on your back and unclipped the magazine of you pistol, checked it, and put it back in place. You were starting to get a feeling in your gut that something was about to go very wrong rather soon.

“Come on, it’s freezing!” 

You hear a voice complain behind you. And true, it was cold, but when you turned around you almost laughed at the poor guy.

“Go indoors.” The eternalist who’d had a bottle thrown at him by Wenjie said. He was just about the only one not laughing at the man in his underwear. 

The poor bloke might have replied if not a voice suddenly echoeing throught the loudspeakers.

“You lot! Stop whatever useless loitering you are doing and get to work! I know Frank fished half of you out of God knows where, but you still signed a contract. A legally binding contract!"

"Asshole." Somoen swore at the loudspeaker.

"And an idiot." Someone else, no doubt another Wenjie fan, added.

You didn't say anything, as, despite how much the tone annoyed you, you had in fact signed a contract to defend this outpost during at least 80% of your time in the loop in return for being able to fool around for the remaining 20%. You had done the math, and came to the conclusion that 20% of eternity was still an eternity.

"I want you to cover this island with my fool-proof security system," the voice continued. It then went on with explaining where exactly each turret, field nullifier (whatever that was), and trip mine should go. "Oh and don't even think of coming anywhere close to my compound. I am conducting extremely important scientific research, and I will shoot on sight." The voice concluded.

"Well, that's much cue." You said, heading towards the central bunker where you were all the explosives were stored.

"You seriously gonna follow his orders like that?" One of the eternalists called you out.

"Hey, if you're not happy, you should have gone to Alexsis little party." You replied, and flipped your pistol in your hand, mostly to look cool, but also with the intention of slightly intimidating the other guy.

"That's right." Someone else chipped in. "So let's get to work, and regret out life choices tomorrow."

You did just that, and barely noticed that it was already fully dark when you finished placing the last of the mines. You were meant to go and guand the bunker entrance with the rest of the eternalists, but you couldn't help but wonder who the man you were guarding was. On one hand everyone called him an idiot, and he had proven to have quite a bad personality, but on the other, you doubted the other visionaries would have left someone like that lead them with the Aeon program.

Disregarding your orders, you snuck past the trip mines you'd just finished installing, and back outside in the snow.

The cold air hit you with surprise, and you zipped up your jacket and pulled its collar as high as its leather fabric would allow. Then, once you'd gotten somewhat used to the cold, you snuck behind a truck, and watched the clearing before you.

Egor Serling was just as you'd imagined him to be, strnagley enough, based on the fee indirect interactions you've had. He was tall, and wore a coat too big for him. His round glasses further added to that air of an 'out of place nerd' that he gave off. You wondered what those rectangular red patched on his face were.

At some point, you realized that you had stared past what was socially acceptable. You should have gotten put and introduced yourself, or snuck back to your post. But you hadn't, and now doing either felt awkward.

So, you distracted yourself by closely watching what the man was doing. Although you couldn't make out much from the angle and the distance, you saw him fiddle (perhaps claibrate) some machine, while mumbling to himself. Every so often he would rub his hands together and blow on them in a fruitless attempt to keep the cold away.

Then, you saw something orange move amongst the white snow. You squinted, following the direction it had vanished in. For a second, you thought that you'd imagined it, but then a head popped up from behing the container at the far end of the clearing, almost immediately followed by the baril of a gun.

You recognised that man as the head of security. His face was posted all over freestand rock, and more scarcely displayed in other areas. Colt Vahn was his name, if you remembered correctly. And you did, and learning about visionaries was somewhat of a hobby. You followed the direction his weapon was pointing in, past Egor and towards the container home behind him. But there was nothing of interest there.

"Oh shit." You swore as you realised what was going on.

You jumped up and fired a volley of shots at Colt. You might or might not have hit him before he ducked back behind cover.

Hearing shots, Egor vanished. You could just about make out a purple outline of where he was, and a trail of footsteps in the snow following him.

Unfortunately Colt had made that observation as well, as he had moved onto a nearby hill, and pulled out a rapière.

Without thinking twice, you dashed, pushing Egor out of the way.

"What-" he complained, as he briefly reappeared.

For half a second, you felt his mind mingle with yours, as you could hear thoughts that were clearly not your own about some sort of experimental wave receiver device. Then you fell to the floor, bleeding out from a head wound.

[Loop 2]

[hdsavmuk2345]

CHERISH EVERY MOMENTS IN LIFE.

By Kirsten Antonnette B. Azucena, BSPH1

Moments are ephemeral and only stay in our memories after they pass. Every minute of your life has an expiration date, and that day is “Now.” Embracing each moment as it comes along will not only help you feel thankful for life, but it will also lift your spirits and change your perspective.

1. Look for the Good in Life

“Humor is the spiciest condiment in the feast of existence. Laugh at your mistakes but learn from them, joke over your troubles but gather strength from them, make a jest of your difficulties but overcome them.” ― L. M. Montgomery Recently, I’ve discovered that laughing instead of worrying about things that go wrong is far more useful when they go wrong. Enjoy the moment while your with your friends and stop worrying the things.

2. Don’t let your mistakes to hold you back.

“Well, we all make mistakes, dear, so just put it behind you. We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.” -L. M. Montgomery, “Anne of Avonlea,” advises us to learn from our mistakes and regret them, but not to carry them into the future. Some mistakes are made because it guides us how to decide on things and learn from them.

3. Take a moment to see the beauty around you and inside yourself as you go about your everyday business.

“Dear old world’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.” ― L. M. Montgomery, “Anne of Green Gables” It's very simple to become mired in a daily routine and believe that normal tasks like taking the morning commute to work are boring and uninteresting. During those times, we need to remind ourselves that we are a part of God’s creation and that we are surrounded by its beauty. Explore yourself even more also the nature to see the true beauty of Gods creation and appreciate it.

4. In the midst of hardship, strive for joy.

“She will love deeply, she will suffer terribly, she will have glorious moments to compensate.” ― L. M. Montgomery, “Emily of New Moon” Pain cannot be avoided. It is a characteristic of being human. It is the precise thing that binds us to one another and guides us to heaven, while being agonizing and terrible. We should voluntarily embrace our sorrow and make an effort to find the joy in it since beautiful things are crafted from it.

5. Seize the day

“Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so… get on your way!” — Dr. Seuss How many times do we tell ourselves we’ll give that long-awaited call to our friend later, begin eating healthily tomorrow, or fulfill our lifelong desire next year, only to never follow through on our promises? In my case, it occurs frequently. We appear to be always delaying things because we convince ourselves that we have more time. But time has a tendency of sneaking up on us, and before we realize it, our time is running out. Thus, make the most of today before it’s too late.

6. Write in your journal about your day’s events.

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” — Dr. Seuss I used to journal a lot when I was younger, but I fell out of the habit in recent years. I’m trying to pick it back up, and it’s been great. Keeping a journal before bed helps me remember the highs and lows of the day and process it to determine what I learned and could apply to my experiences.

[sammysshadowself]

The past two days have been very eye opening. First off, shout out to Lemon for the gay bash. Let me take you guys through the timeline.

We had this week off for thanksgiving. I spent Monday morning experimenting with the Darkworld. I can’t enter the Darkworld from anywhere else but the school it seems, though, from the Darkworld school, there is nowhere else to go. It’s a flat and barren landscape except for the huge emerald spire. Axel, Elen, and I attempted to enter the Spire, only to be blocked off by an intricate, thin, but sturdy fence. The fence was a thin interwoven facade of emerald and jade, similar to a angular chain link fence, except the holes were too small to comfortably climb.

On the way back to the Darkworld School, I saw something odd; a carriage. I walked to it, branching from the group. By the time I touched it, I called out to the group, but I already found myself inside of it. It was a blur from touch to entry, a familiar blur. Inside of the carriage sat a familiar, long nosed man sitting next to a growling cage.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room. We meet again, trickster.” I was taken aback. Until now, this was just a dream. Now, I was fully in it, sitting on a wooden bench as the horses pulled me away. That’s why the blur was so familiar; there was a blur between the bells here and my alarm in the real world. I asked him what this place was and what was happening. I’ll try to remember his monologue as best as possible.

“I am Igor, a benevolent entity that assists in mankind’s future. I am the ruler of the Velvet room, a room that you can only enter if you’re under a contract.” I thought of what contract I was under. There was the housing contract that allowed me my own apartment, but I got the feeling that it was he OTHER contract I was under.

My mom was killed in a fatal hit and run. My has always been a sore subject to my mom so I never really got to know anything about him. I’m supposed to be living here for a year before I can inherit the house. THAT’S the contract, I assume, that Igor is referring to.

One might be very freaked the fuck out at this point, with new gods referencing something you haven’t told anyone. However, I have already seen two people psychologically unwind in front of me in an alternate reality that was based off of human cognition and thought. That is to say, I can handle it.

“I am here to awaken you to your two special powers as a trickster. The first one is the bonds you form with your confidants. These shall be the primary source of power that will guide you through the Darkworld, as you call it. Spend your year strengthening the bonds between classmates, friends, elders, and confidants. These will empower the personas you create.”

As I understand it now, he was right. I can and do spend time with certain people, creating genuine binds with them. I believe you people call it “making friends.” That being said, I have an edge; I can see who is and isn’t immediately important in this confidant business. Through faint traces of Darkworld energy, I am almost see between the lines, like peeking through the blinds of reality to see everyone’s bigger place in this. Oddly enough, they align with the major arcana.

“Your second ability is that to create new personas. Each person can only have one persona, one true self, but the trickster is different. You are able to carry multiple personas, each of which corresponding to a different confidant. That is to say, creating a persona of a confidant you have a deep bind with will create a stronger persona. That is why your bonds with your confidants is crucial; they are the power you wield in the Darkworld.”

At that moment, it clicked. My worldly bonds will be the enervation and power standing behind me in the Darkworld. With this explanation, I only nodded, understanding it fully.

“I’m glad you understand. That is my true purpose here, to facilitate your growth through the real world and the Darkworld. I bid you farewell, and good luck as you traverse the two sides of the same coin.”

At that moment, I could hear a vaguely male voice whisper something to me in the back of my mind.

“I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall empower your every movement through the dark. With the birth of the Fool confidant, you shall now be ready to brave the leap of faith, no matter where you land. 1/10”

With nothing else to do, I thank Igor and step out of the Velvet room. To the outside observer, I.e Elen and Axel, I was standing still in a daze but for only a moment. They asked if I was okay, which I just said “yeah, I’m good. I just haven’t eaten today.”

To that, we decided to leave. Our detective work was done, as we decided to explore that weird principal office door tomorrow. Back to the real world.

That day, I spent my time talking to Virginia over the phone. Turns out, I can call them! Their voice is an autogenerated voice however, which makes sense. We talked about our mutual deal, something that had concerned me. Essentially, they wanted Elen, Axel, and I to go to the top of the spire, something that could only be done slowly, one province at a time. They feel that the person who rules over the spire is the one who sacrificed them years ago.

They talked more about their memory, or rather, lacktherof. They know that they were sacrificed for one reason or another, their body was desecrated, and their soul lived on in the Darkworld. They can’t fight, as they don’t have a persona, which they explained is the only way a shadow can be killed (no persona = no combat capabilities in the Darkworld.)

With that new bit of information and a deal in mind, heard a familiar voice in the back of my head.

“I am Thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall empower your every movement through the dark. With the birth of the Magician arcana, the secrets of the dark itself may be learned. 1/10.”

With that, I opted to just chill for a bit and study in my room. One of my teachers is a huge dick apparently and has assigned “breakwork,” something he promised to do every school break. It’s just math and shit, literally busywork.

The next day was set for us: Enter the Darkworld, investigate the door, don’t die.

We did just that. The three of us entered and were immediately greeted with ankle high water, muddy grounds, and willow trees. Altogether, a swamp was behind that door. In the distance, under the water, a checkerboard pattern was formed in the mud. Under our feet, there was no such pattern. After fussing about how gross this was, we heard the faint sound of groaning. We cautiously follow it, finding a disgusting mass of slime, grit, and misshapen metal jewelry.

“This is.. Tamika?” Elen mumbled, pointing to the thing.

“Oh my god- IS that Tamika? With all of the jewelry?” They both took a step forward, observing it closer.

“Thats not Tamika, at least, not like you think. That’s what the ruler of this Province THINKS Tamika is, albeit, a bit dramatized. This province is a byproduct of stupor meeting his cognition; he’s given up, acting out of fear rather than hope. That’s how we are in his province.” That was Virginia, speaking while assembling themselves behind us in their usual galactic and shapeless form.

“So… that’s just what he THINKS of Tamika? That’s fucked up.” Elen said. Tamika, the slime, slid on, leaving a visible slime trail behind it in the mud. That is when something lurched towards us- a less disgusting blob of shadow with two red eyes.

“Who’s that supposed to be?” I asked, motioning to the thing. It let out a low growl.

“That’s a shadow- weapons ready!” Virginia yelled. With that, it melted into the ground, reshaping into a small pixie, fluttering a foot above the ground. Together, we fought this pixie, and for a pixie, that bitch could FIGHT! We also got a good idea of Elen’s persona’s combat capabilities. She could shoot out little blitz and flames and also smack a bitch UP with her cudgel. It was rough, that pixie had moves. On top of that, we’d fight multiple shadows throughout the swamp, taking the form of pixies, little incubi, and river spirits, all pertaining to folklore. After a lot of trudging, we found something; a fort.

In the willow trees and tall pines sat bridges and forts sitting high above the shallow water below. The bridges, one way or another, led to a central tower that was in the shape of a chess piece- a king. Glaring at this large escapade reminded me that this was inside of the principals office inside of the Darkworld. The three of us stared at the wall of bridges and huts, exhausted from many previous battles.

“Can we do this a different day? Please?” Axel asked, panting and holstering his gun.

“Conserving our energy would be the best course of action. “ Virginia recommended. Unanimously, we all left the Darkworld by doing the very meticulous process of thinking about leaving and then leaving.

We were exhausted and decided to go our separate ways. I went home, doing more homework to let the night slip me by. I actually finished this fuckass project I was doing about golfing plans on graphs.

The next day, yesterday, I was walking to the grocery store to pick up some groceries, as you do at a grocery store. There was a trans rights protest on the sidewalk in front of our school, which I had to pass by. It was being led by a woman in lots and lots of jewelry, jewlery that seemed awfully familiar. I stopped to listen in. The woman leading it was informing the crowd of students (people who go to my school) about the upcoming school board meeting and how it would carve the peramiters of transgender rights. I listened in and learned a couple scary things about our dear Province leader, Mr. Mondo. He was a scathing, almost comically evil Republican man who wants to revoke transgender safety policies.

This post is long enough so I’ll condense it; transgender rights are under attack at my school and this upcoming school board meeting on December 1st, our deadline. On top of that, the woman who was speaking had that familiar arcane feeling. I looked between the lines, seeing the faint shape of the Chariot on top of her head. I stayed until the protest was over, talking to her afterwards.

“Tamika, right?” I opened up with.

“Yeah, watcha need?” She asked, looking me in the eyes.

“What can I do to help?” With that question, we talked for what seemed like hours about trans rights, school, and oddly enough Ikea. At the end of it, I remembered that I was grocery shopping and asked her for her discord. I could feel a faint assimilation of a bond forming..

“I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall empower your every movement through the dark. With the birth of the Chariot arcana, your inherent willpower will increase tenfold. 1/10”

I walked to the store and walked back, food prepping for the week. I also decided to make lunch for Axel tomorrow. I wanted to invite him over to talk about his fear.

Today, that happened. I don’t want to spill anymore of his personal details, but he has a nasty memory issue and a lot of mental issues. As we talked over the ramen I prepared, I got to know him a lot better. I felt like I understood him a bit more.

“I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall empower your every move through the dark. With the birth of the Faith arcana, even the unknown can be tilt in your favor.”

He went home and I stayed home, completing my fuckass math project.

I’m in my bed now, looking over this post. This is a lot. I feel like, bit by bit, I understand this a bit better. This, being the Darkworld and the normal world. I’m excited and hopeful that we can do something about the world. If what we’re doing can actually help people, why shouldn’t we?

Goodnight, see you all tomorrow.