#i promise i will write more than just willow one day

[nataliasquote]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! Alongside my work on Wattpad and AO3, you can find all my mini series and oneshots linked down below. I usually only write for Natasha Romanoff and occasionally Yelena Belova, but feel free to send in any requests. But no smut, I’m not comfortable with that :)

Natasha Romanoff | Series

[F = fluff, A = angst, H = hot af ]

⧗ Double the Trouble AU | WandaNat x daughter: [F] Natasha and Wanda have their work cut out raising twin girls. But despite the struggles and the arguments, there is nothing that would break the bond this family has created

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Canon oneshots:

A Day Out: [F] summer and sunshine calls for family trips out. To the zoo, naturally[2.9k words]

Groceries: [F] Natasha volunteers to do the weekly shop. Mundane, perhaps, but with two babies, things are never smooth sailing [1.4k words]

Cuddles: [F] a tipsy Y/n only wants one thing when she comes home from a party- Natasha’s hugs. And who is Natasha to refuse cuddles from her teenagers? [800 words]

New Families: [F] Natasha was content keeping her little family to herself. But Yelena and Melina weren’t. Which is how the family of four find themselves in Ohio, resurfacing memories for Natasha and challenging the three year olds in a whole new environment. Isla loves it, Y/n… not so much [4.4k words]

Yelena’s Day: [F] it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian. [4.3k words]

Switch Up: [F] Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows… [3.3k words]

⧗ My Songbird AU | Natasha x Willow (O!C): It’s the 70s. Final summer of high school. Why not spend it getting high, partying and sneaking off with your girlfriend in a town that is so disapproving of anything deviating from the norm.

Mood board | part 1 [F]

⧗ Back in Time | Winterwidow x daughter: Natasha and Bucky’s daughter seeks comfort in her Aunt Wanda as her parents go missing on a mission. She doesn’t ask for much, she only wants to see them again.

part 1 [F] | part 2 [A]

⧗ Midas Touch | Maid!Natasha: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

part 1 [F + A] | part 2 [F + A]

Natasha Romanoff | Oneshots

⧗ Promises: [A] Natasha and Anastasia didn’t know love… not until they found it in each other. But the Red Room was cold, in more ways than one [2.6k words]

⧗ Ghost of You: [F + A] Learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world [3.2k words]

⧗ Lost in the Fire | f1 AU: [A] A horrific crash tests Natasha’s nerves to the limit as she has no choice but to sit back and watch from the garage. Her girlfriend and her sister push themselves for that all important win. [4.5k words]

⧗ I Will Rescue You | natasha romanoff x adopted daughter reader: [F + A] An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected… [3.7k words]

⧗ Can’t You See This is Breaking Me: [A] Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves [5.2k words]

⧗ Tattoos For Troubled Minds: [F] Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake [3.6k words]

⧗ Midnight: [A] Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable [1.1k words]

⧗ I Know What You Are: [A] The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily. [5.9k words]

⧗ Mustang | cowgirl Nat AU: [H] The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind? [4.3k words]

⧗ Is It All For Nothing?: [A] You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong? [1.3k words]

⧗ Welcome To My Head At Midnight | song fic: [A] Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win. [2k words]

⧗ Sunkissed By An Angel: [F] the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house. [1.5k words]

Yelena Belova | Oneshots

⧗ For Her: [F + A] Yelena tries to find the balance between spending christmas with her girl and tracking down Clint Barton… [1.7k words]

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

HI HI DOVE!!!! :D you were so thorough with the rules of your event (I NEVER THOUGHT TO ASK PEOPLE FOR BACKUPS HELP?????????)

but ofc ofc you can probably guess who i was going to ask for LMAO but i promise my backups will NOT BE FOR AZUL PROMISE!!!!

i was immediately intrigued by the prompt "By the babbling brook" so i would like to request azul and that!! maybe friends to lovers vibes because im a suck for that??? AS FOR BACKUPS HMMM

"Caught in the rain" WITH VIL WOULD BE SO CUTE :((( I CAN IMAGINE HIM BEING CONCERNED FOR HIS APPEARANCE??? even though his makeup is probably waterproof LMAO

"Stargazing" with trey sniffle cough cough.,.,.,. it would be so soothing AND ACTUALLY I DONT REQUEST TREY CONTENT LIKE EVER EVEN THOUGH HES MY BESTIE?!?!?!?

so yea atcually i think ALL of these are cute so i dont even really have backups LMAO JUST WRITE WHICHEVER ONE STRIKES YOU!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH OF HOSTING TIHS DOVE IM GOING TO BE SCREAING IN YOUR REBLOGS WHENEVER YOU POST WHWAHAWHAWHWAH <3333

By the Babbling Brook; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Gender-neutral reader, friends-to-lovers, a smidgen of hurt/comfort

Word Count; 700+

AN: Auburn, why did you give me so many good ideas /hj. But I hope you enjoy your Azul. Everyone coming for the Fish Mafia content (3 more are lined up). As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You sat on a large boulder sitting in the middle of a shallow brook, dipping your legs in as an attempt to try and escape the heat of the day. Even from under the shade of the willow tree from above, the heat and humidity was still oppressive. And the chirping of cicadas only underscored the fact. And sitting on the boulder just a few centimetres away was Azul, pant legs rolled up to his knees and his legs in the water as well, trying to cool off as well.

The two of you had arranged a day to hang out, since the Coral Sea isn’t really the most hospitable place for anyone without fins or gills. So Azul had agreed to set aside some time in his schedule so that he could spend some time with you, and this time there was no Grim or nosey Leech twins to interrupt you. But why, why did today have to be so insufferably hot.

“Why couldn’t we go someplace cooler,” he groaned, pushing his hair out of his face. “Somewhere with… air conditioning?” At least the water was cold, which helped break the heat a little bit. Plus the shade from the willow tree kept the harshness of the midday sun at bay.

You flicked some water at him, and chortled at the dirty look he gave you. “Just wanted to check this out, see where it led,” you say in a chipper tone. You slipped down the boulder a bit, getting further into the water. The brook was shallow, only reaching about mid-calf.

Your hand brushed against Azul’s and he could have sworn it felt like an electric shock rather than a soft caress. “It led to a tree and some rocks,” he sighed.

You hummed, splashing a bit in the water as the stark coldness of the brook was finally breaking the sticky heat. “Well I think it led to an opportunity.”

“For what?” He didn’t really want to say it, but today, other than the Sevens forsaken heat, was nice. The two of you had just walked together, and had some nice conversations that melted into each other seamlessly.

A mischievous smile spread across your face and you splashed Azul in the face. “For that,” you laugh.

Azul spat out water, and the faintest bit of ink, blue flushing his cheeks. But his brief flash of anger mixed with embarrassment of being bested faded just as quickly as it had arisen. You looked so happy, sitting in the brook with the swaying branches of willows behind you. And Azul felt a lump form in his throat. They look… ethereal.

You noticed him staring and waved a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo,” you called, “ear- erm, Twisted Wonderland to Azul? You good?”

“YES,” he sputtered, getting up from the boulder and trying to get back to the banks of the brook. “I am perfectly fine, Prefect!” But the slight crack in his voice betrayed him. He was very much not okay, no. Why did he feel like there were butterflies in his stomach? Why did he feel weird around you? Why do you make me feel like this? Like a fish out of water?

You got up and followed him, a few paces behind. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know? Come on Azul, be honest with me. We’re friends after all.”

We’re friends after all. That line, why did it hurt so much? “I’m not lying,” he could feel you behind him, but he dared not to look back.

“Now you’re just lying to yourself,” you huff. “Come on, Azul, just say it.”

“Say what?!” He turned around and looked at you. The dappled light, and glittering water behind you only made the lump in his throat grow even more. “That I love you-” He snapped his mouth shut and held his breath.

That I love you. That’s what the feeling was. Love.

Your eyes widened, and you opened and closed your mouth, trying to decide what to say. “Well,” you say softly, “I love you too, Azul. I have for a while now.”

And who would have guessed that seeing where the brook led would lead to this. Two friends confessing that there was indeed something more between them.

[acourtofladydeath]

Eris Week '24 Day 4: Tradition/Hounds

Cassian makes a mistake and Eris gives him a choice on how he’d like to make it up to him - he almost instantly regrets his decision.

This one's for all of you who asked me for more Princess Eris after @polyacotarweek last year. For day 4 of @erisweekofficial I bring you a fic completely dedicated to Cassian, his princess, and his princess' hounds. Read a snippet below or find the complete fic on AO3!

An inviting plume of smoke puffed out of the cabin’s chimney as Eris approached the front door. He took in a deep breath of the crisp Autumn air, letting it clear his lungs and settle his mind before he stepped inside his sanctuary. The tranquility he’d just achieved was instantly shattered when he walked inside and tripped, sending him sprawling across the entryway floor.  Groaning as he sat up, Eris looked with vengeance upon the pair of black leather boots caked in mud that were about three sizes too big for him. Before he could properly right himself Eris’ pups were beside him, whining as they tried to ensure he was okay. Fen started licking his cheek as Willow huffed and nuzzled his shoulder in an attempt to help him up. The precious dogs received the cuddles they deserved as Eris continued his staring contest with the haphazardly strewn black boots. Content he was unharmed, the dogs gave Eris space to push himself off the floor and dust off his pants.  Cassian had promised him more than once that he would find a place for those boots. It wasn’t Eris’ fault that he had five pairs of his own that lived beside the door. No, if the big bat wanted to start staying here with Eris, he had to carve out his own spot. When Eris had explained this to Cassian, the male had just chuckled under his breath before placing a soft kiss on the Autumn Heir’s forehead and pulling him in for a hug. “Of course, princess,” he’d said in that voice that he knew sent tingles coursing through every inch of Eris' body. 

Keep reading here on AO3!

Thank you to J-squared (@the-darkestminds and @jules-writes-stories) for betaing this fic for me!

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @pippsmcgee, @born-to-riot, @chunkypossum, @bubybubsters, @queercontrarian, @yanny-77 , @fieldofdaisiies, @iftheshoef1tz, @secret-third-thing, @jules-writes-stories, @the-darkestminds, @climbthemountain2020, @mocat07

[zahri-melitor]

October Solicits (because this set is actually worth discussing):

My biggest question over the Absolute Line is whether the Trinity being defined by their losses is because "they have just entered a new universe and have none of their background supports" or whether it is "they have grown up without any of the things listed".

Because "Batman, but poor and alone" or "Wonder Woman without the Amazons" are different premises if these have NEVER existed, or if they're just not accessible (heck, Rucka's Wonder Woman Rebirth is 'Wonder Woman without the Amazons').

I am interested in the fact that Wonder Woman potentially looks like "what if Diana was Bana-Mighdall", but then, that's the point of Artemis, when Artemis is used properly.

Batman: ahaha yesss time for Eddie to go legit OR 'legit' for a bit, he's been a big bad too often in the last 15 years, time to come be an annoying detective for a while.

Action Comics: look I think this is selling me on picking it up, at least to try, though along with everyone else I'm wondering at the weekly start. I really hope it's not on weekly for an extended period and he's just frontloaded the work, because to my eye Waid's got 6 comic issues coming out this month

Detective Comics: I am totally picking this up, just to see what they're doing.

Nightwing: also finally starting current Nightwing as I might as well pick up at a new run. I am cautiously interested but it appears like it will be a big tonal shift.

Catwoman: I am also cautiously interested in this, especially given my look into Grønbekk's prior work gives me a really weird read on what this run might entail. Will sample.

Green Arrow: which numbering system are we picking up for #350, as my rough calculation does not match (I think they're including both #0s in this count but not One Million) and if you're willing to do this, WHERE IS THE CATWOMAN ANNIVERSARY ISSUE. That said, will keep reading. I will miss Izaakse on art. I sort of hope Condon can write a plot that moves faster than Williamson's.

Flash: THEY ARE GOING TO SKARTARIS OH HAPPY DAY FOR MEEEEEEEE.

Batman & Robin: look PKJ on this is probably the best possible option for my own preferences in Damian storytelling, so I am very interested in what he plans to do.

Birds of Prey: EXTREMELY happy Babs is being sold as Oracle on the cover of this (coloured green too!), delighted to see Onyx in the title, and I'm so proud of Cass going undercover again. That's always fun.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold: oh look DC remembered that Aquaman exists.

World's Finest: ...at least it's not more interdimensional imps.

Shazam!: switching focus to Freddy for a bit, I see, between his new powers AND roadtrip - which means the Shazvan.

Batman & Robin Year One: look. I think it looks promising. I think they could have found a more interesting name for a crime boss than The General. I also think Waid might have WAY too much on his plate.

Poison Ivy/Swamp Thing: okay okay time for me to find out what all the fuss over the G. Willow Wilson run is about.

Jenny Sparks: my teeth are so gritted over this title. I am trying it, because she's my Jenny, but everything about it is raising alarm bells.

[loveislandthegame]

my overall thoughts on season 7, writing edition: what in the world ? 😭 i cannot believe i thought this season was gonna be good. i’ll be joining rohan & S2 MC in the circus, since FB made me look like a damn clown. i don't even know where to begin

being a casa girl had so much potential, and it was something that a lot of players actually wanted, even before FB started doing these themed seasons. they really fumbled the bag here

i enjoyed casa amor. the guys were all unique, had their own dialogue, and it was cool to see their pre-established relationships (alex being the villa dad, bryson and rafa being partners in chaos, the beef between bryson & joyo) then we arrived in the villa, and it all went downhill from there:

everybody became an empty husk, so they could be forced into interchangeable roles: uma’s partner, bonnie’s partner, OG LI’s ex, loved up couple (summer/joyo or #rafne) to name a few. FB’s lazy asses ruined their own characters . why is alex, the supposed level-headed & mature one, being petty & childish af in my playthrough? 😭

MC literally had no thoughts, head empty. we barely participated in any of the challenges and games. it felt like we didn't do anything besides "get pulled for a chat" by your LI or the girls

the LI personality merge in this season was the worst it has ever been. all they do is agree with whatever you say, or tell you how great you are (gone are the days of LIs having their own interests, & getting extra dialogue because of that, like levi with artist MCs)

same problem as the most recent seasons, where MC doesn’t have friendships. she has a forced bestie, then potential LIs that sit around waiting for you to pick them, choose them, love them (they immediately disappear if you don’t pick them)

the plot made no sense at all. being a casa girl means we miss out on the first half of the season, but there were many different ways they could've shown what happened before we arrived (it couldve been something as simple as MC watching the show at home or during the jeep ride to the villa. lol) the timeline was inconsistent, so much important information was paywalled, and i’m pretty sure FB was just making shit up as they went along, since the drama with stephen and OG LI's ex genuinely came out of nowhere . he wasn’t previously mentioned in the beach hut, casa amor, nothing . his only purpose was to make the OG girl look bad.

speaking of the OG girls, what a disappointment . before we got to the villa, i honestly thought they were hinting at estelle and/or willow being LIs . even if they were forced to be our rival, they still could’ve had an interesting character arc . it would've been a lot more fun if she was like allegra, rather than OG LI's equivalent of suresh

i was gonna write, "why tf did she even make it to the finale?" but the answer is obvious : for the gem scenes. every damn volume, it's pay diamonds to upstage her, pay diamonds to clapback, pay diamonds so “your man” doesn't turn his head 🙄 it's already stupid enough, but it makes even less sense if you're not pursuing your OG LI

which leads me to the biggest problem of this season, the lack of branching. you're given the illusion of choice, everything leads to the same outcome . i didn't think it could get any worse, until i saw what happens when you choose the money . does your LI storm off? nope. they make you do the treasure hunt anyways...to win you back ??😭 MC should've called security on their ass

s7 had a promising start but ended up being a flop. it was better than s5, but that's really not saying much . i wish FB would just take their time—s1 and 2 had a whole year long gap between them. but it's clear that rushed seasons are gonna be the norm, season 8 is dropping in february . capitalism ruins everything luv x

[mdhwrites]

So if Dana said she didn't have any original season 3 ideas, why did she also say on Twitter that she wanted 10-20 half hours for season 3?

Now apparently from the transcript and the like, what was said that there were like one sentence pitches for episodes but nothing concrete or the like. That I believe. After all, it's like taking sticky notes and using them to jot down passing thoughts. But... Ideas don't mean anything. You need to have an actual coherent thought as to how you are going to use those ideas as a creator.

So when she says she wanted those episodes, I believe her. But... Instead of it being so she could have coherently finished her story, something you can feel isn't exactly happening during S3, it would have been to explore her ideas and let it be her mouthpiece. Even as far back as S1, you can clearly see this conflict in the show. The First Day lets her take potshots at modern education and saying kids should have more freedom... At the expense of everyone forgetting that multi-tracking is literally illegal. But the idea was more important than the overall story so in it went.

Besides, when asked about your work that you cherish so much, are you going to tell people you wanted LESS time to do whatever you wanted? Or are you going to say you wanted as much time as possible? Especially since without a solid plan, you can't be like Matt Braley who straight up went "Nope. Amphibia wasn't shortened. It was always planned to be three seasons."

I still stand by the idea that Dana actually wanted to just keep going WELL past S3. Even now, she wants to do a spin off and one of her greatest regrets for what was missed was not being allowed to do more teenage Raeda stuff in the show. A second episode in the past. Expanding on what? Who knows but it's more time spent with the ship that Dana clearly loved.

I am not saying Dana was lying or a bad person but the question that is worth asking is if that time would have been spent actually wrapping up plot threads or exploring characters as they are now. Otherwise, it would end up being like the S2B and S3 we got where we are still getting elements added, refusing to wrap up story elements, and having to drag back plot points from almost entire seasons ago (Willow and Amity's friendship), if not MULTIPLE seasons ago (Willow's lack of power control) just to do something with these characters despite it being way too late to treat those elements as relevant. There is a reason why if I hear that Dana is the lead for another cartoon, I'll probably be staying away. Not when I don't want promising statements to never have a plan behind. Not again.

Expected this to be shorter. I'm rambly though. Also just wanted to clear this out. Admittedly, it's stuff like this that makes it so that if anyone ever told me they didn't trust me as a writer, I'd understand. Not because of me wasting time but because my mental health gets in the way and can cause ideas to die as my brain just refuses to write them. How we as writers use our time with the audience is important. It leaves an impression and for me, Dana's impression is incredibly negative because I care about story, even if characters come first to me.

Sigh.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[that-ari-blogger]

Psychology of... Willow?

When I set out to do this series, I had a few episodes noted down where I would use the analysis of that post to look into one specific character and their psychology, writing, and the cinematography surrounding that character. For example, I still plan on my analysis of Labyrinth Runners delving into Gus.

But one such episode that I had noted down was Understanding Willow. I planned on examining its eponym's struggle with bullying and how that impacted her mental health.

But this episode is more complicated than that, and I'm not entirely sure that it's about Willow.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

One criticism of The Owl House is that it starts slow, and while my contrarian streak leads me to disagree with that, it is difficult to argue that the series doesn't abruptly gain speed with Understanding Willow. The animation, visual metaphors and storytelling, and the direction all skyrocket.

This is the episode where the series brings its complex storytelling to the forefront, and a key example of this is that this is about Amity as much as it is about Willow.

The premise of this episode is memory. What if memories are tangible? Maybe they are tampered with, or damaged? What if memories could be seen by others? What power does a picture have? Put a pin in this.

In February 2022, Steam Forge games released the Dark Souls Role Playing Game, and bear with me, I promise this is relevant. It is based off the Dark Souls series and the Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition system. But I would argue that it pales in comparison to Emanuele Galletto's Dark Souls Unofficial Role-Playing Game.

Galletto's system is a fascinating take on the series it is based on, and is surprisingly balanced, but I'm not here to give a review. Instead, I would like to focus on the rules for humanity and their implications.

Essentially, because death and rebirth are common in the game, in order for stakes to mean anything, Galletto implemented an idea called Sparks of Memory. When a character dies, they lose their memories. These can be sacrificed in exchange for abilities upon level ups, or they can be established through the game and through the adventure itself.

"When you die, you lose a Spark of Memory: a piece of your being will be forever lost, and you will be a step closer to losing yourself... With time, you might become an entirely different person, driven by a strong will but completely changed by the trauma of death and reshaped by your journey throughout this accursed land."

This system is called Humanity, the passage above is taken from a page literally entitled "Loss of Humanity", which means something, right? But weirdly enough, this is a system that forces optimism. Pessimism and fear that the world will only get worse are not particularly good motivators. Anger and grief at specific moments are all well and good, but at the end of the day, when they leave your character, why are you still moving forwards? Hope.

When I was playing this, I genuinely watched the power of friendship develop into a major force in the campaign, as the characters reassured each other and formed these memories together. If memories are who you are, then people who remember you are equally important in keeping you in check. These were people who developed into relentlessly determined heroes, with a grim focus on making the world a better place, together.

I have never really cared about the science fiction debate of what constitutes humanity, but this is a genuinely interesting take on the question that I highly recommend experiencing yourself.

But why have I just spent almost 400 words talking about Dark Souls? Because Understanding Willow displays some of the same ideas. Memories are what makes Willow who she is, and when those get damaged, she runs into problems. What is fascinating, is how much of Willow's memories were formed in relation to others. Her fathers (hey, gay male representation in cartoons, don't see that often) feature often, but so does Amity.

Bullying is one of those almost universal experiences in life. If you haven't been a subject of it, you have probably witnessed it.

Studies have been trying to ascertain the impact of bullying on mental health since at least the 1970s, with the oldest source I could find being Dan Olweus' 1973 Victims and Bullies: Research on School Bullying, although that was written in Swedish, and I haven't been able to find a copy of that original book. It was allegedly published in English in 1978, retitled Aggression in the Schools: Bullies and Whipping Boys, of which the internet archive has a copy that is available.

Research into the subject has continued into the modern day and has been updated to modern scientific and psychological practices. For example, this study was published in 2021, and concluded that: "Reports of mental health problems were four times higher among boys who had been bullied compared to those not bullied. The corresponding figure for girls was 2.4 times higher."

What this means is that it is important to understand Willow in the context of Amity, and it is important for Amity to witness that effect directly in order to change herself.

Sorry, wrong image. How did that get in here? That's from a game called Melatonin, by the way.

There we go.

So, memories in the Owl House are tangible. They can be changed, or erased artificially, and "artificially" is the key word here, because memories can change naturally. A rare few people are infallible in that regard. But Willow is making an attempt to forget her life with Amity, she turns it away and avoids talking about it, rather than confront her past.

"That's my motto after all. Out of sight, out of mind."

It's notable that the illusion teacher governs the memory system, meaning that memories in this series use the same rules as the rest of illusion magic. I have another post going into detail about that, but TLDR: Illusions have an impact on real life in the same way that anything else can. They aren't representations of lies, but consequences. You can change yourself to match your true self, for example, but you need to understand what that means for everyone and everything around you.

So, memories associated with consequences? What a strange correlation, I wonder if that means anything.

You would think that the tragic memory would be of the bullying, right? A single moment crystalised into something awful, but what Willow wants to escape from, and what scares Amity the most, is the simple fact that these two used to be friends. It becomes a betrayal.

I think that the Inner Willow was a master stroke of the writing, because it gives agency to Willow's subconscious. It says the quiet things out loud in a way that Amity cannot get away from, and it is a creature that she will have to confront. It acts as a personification of consequence.

"Love, sadness, fear. I used to be a being made of all emotions. But ever since you set Willow's mind on fire, all I've been able to feel is anger."

There is a neat little double meaning here. Amity literally started burning Willow's memories of happiness accidentally, but she also did it figuratively a long time ago. The betrayal poisoned every other memory that Willow had of her and turned it sour, their relationship was shattered, perhaps permanently, and Willow suffered.

This actually links back to Galletto's Dark Souls. In the same passage where the mechanics are explained, Galletto gives this explanation:

"A Spark of Memory is something that keeps you human: funny thing is, they are rarely happy memories. Turns out pain, anger and regret take deep roots into our hearts, and the strength of these emotions can keep us going even when our body is broken"

Galletto isn't entirely false here, pain and suffering are powerful motivating forces, they can keep propelling you forwards. The Inner Willow would certainly agree with that sentiment. But I don't, and I don't think The Owl House as a whole, or even this episode, do either.

I mentioned above that gameplay displayed a contradicting view on powerful emotions, but Understanding Willow also argues this point. Anger is strong, don't get me wrong, but love can win out, and it does so through empathy. The thing that saves Willow in the end is Amity's declaration of understanding and desire to do better.

The strongest emotion that you will ever feel, is hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, hope for a better today, or hope that a relationship that you had thought doomed might be reconcilable. Hope will win out. Light, do not falter.

But, I said that this was an episode about Amity as well, and if you have seen this episode, you know exactly which scene I am going to talk about.

This scene pulls zero punches. From the fading away memories of young Amity and Willow to reveal their cynical, older selves; to the dialogue and the acting; to the construction of Amity's conversation with her parents. This is phenomenal.

This is the memory that started it all, this is the betrayal. Whoever did the expressions on the memories needs a prize because that is half of why this works so well. The other half of why this works is the lines, both what is said, and how it is delivered.

"I just... I just can't get the spells right" "Well, yes. That... that is why. Because you're a weakling."

I keep saying this is a betrayal because it is. Friendships are built on trust and if that gets broken, good luck getting it back.

"Then you let your new friends pick on her, all because you thought she was weak."

It's important to understand what the Inner Willow is saying here. She's not complaining about the belittling or ambition, she's holding Amity accountable for her inaction. When Amity stood by and did nothing while Bosha bullied Willow, she was complicit in that bullying. Just because she didn't say anything doesn't make it any less her fault, for encouraging it by laughing, or by not standing up for Willow when she needed it.

Actions have consequences, but so does the choice to do nothing.

The camera pans back into the door and gives just a smidge of context, and there are some bold visual choices going on here.

First up, the limiting of the space makes amity feel boxed in and trapped, and it evokes a feeling of looking through a keyhole. You only see a fraction of what is going on, but it is enough to know what is happening.

Second, Amity is the only thing in colour here, meaning that she is still the centre point of the frame, despite being tiny.

Third, the Blights aren't shown in detail, only their shadows. It is their legacy that they leave behind on display, the shadows that they cast. But its also not the point. Showing the visual designs of the Blights would take away impact from what they are saying. This is a simple shot so that you understand exactly what is happening.

"Good children don't squabble, dear. Sever your ties with Willow, and if you don't..." "Then we will."

Once again there is some reframing of Willow's life. Where Amity's betrayal tainted the memories of their times together, the Blights' words reframe everything after that point as out of her control.

"We'll make sure she never gets admitted into Hexide."

Amity is trying to protect Willow, and the actions that cause this episode's conflict become reframed as well. Amity wants Willow to forget her but doesn't comprehend how much of Willow's life was centred around her. She doesn't yet understand the consequences of her actions.

Final Thoughts

Willow and Amity are fascinating characters, and the depth that this episode brings to their actions and interactions sheds light on the series up to this point, and the series going forwards.

Willow has such a low level of self esteem that she is willing to hurt herself to support others, and this episode goes into why. But to that, I offer some advice. When I was researching this, I came across a motivational image by yogaspace.com. I had to search for the message's original source, which ended up being Penny Reid's Beard In Mind, but it reads as follows:

"Don’t set yourself on fire trying to keep others warm.”

Take from that what you will.

Next week, I will be looking at Enchanting Grom Fright, so stick around if you want my thoughts on that.

Previous - Next

[imwall-e]

W&TWS || Doubts

Summary : He is a super-soldier of more than 100 year old, struggling to find a place in this new world. She is a young student of 23, struggling with life. But they know they can find comfort and help in each other.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings : a bit of angst and anxiety, also fluff and always Bucky being the best

A/N : I am back to writing this fanfiction. It is more a journal to me, but it feels good to write like that and to share the story of Bucky and Willow. I hope you love it !

Series Masterlist

May 10th 2021

The exams had started the week of her birthday. Willow had barely revised, but was still doing her best to answer the questions and write good essays. She had a feeling, however, that it wouldn't be enough, but she was at peace with that. After all, this degree no longer suited her. All she had to do was make a decision: try her luck at the catch-up exams (because yes, she would definitely have to go), or give up altogether.

Strangely enough, her reflections led her to William. They had only been dating a few months, and she had taken just as long to get over what he had done to her. The wound still hadn't completely healed. A new question came to mind: was it a good idea to start a relationship with Bucky?

True, they had only exchanged a kiss, but perhaps everything was still moving too fast? Perhaps she needed to take her time? She wrote down all her anxieties on the paper she'd used for drafts, and promised herself she'd tell Bucky about them the next time they called.

He had gone back to New York a few weeks earlier, and it was difficult for them to communicate. She knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work in the long term. Especially in two different time zones.

She didn't want to get too attached like in her previous relationships. But Bucky seemed so kind. So thoughtful. However, bad times in the past forced her to be wary of many things, and many people. Even Bucky.

The teacher supervising the exam indicated that there was still an hour to go before the end of the exam. She glanced at her paper: barely four pages... She sighed, gathered her things, handed in her paper and went home.

The journey seemed long. Longer than usual. When she arrived, she was greeted only by her dog Dino. Her mother must still be at work. She took the opportunity to relax a little: take Dino for a walk, have something to eat, continue reading a book. Around 6pm, she took a shower and fell asleep a few minutes after getting into bed.

May 11th 2021

When she woke up, it was past midnight. The house was quiet. Her bedroom door was closed, probably by her mother who had preferred to let her sleep in. She reached for her phone and was blinded for several seconds by the brightness.

A few notifications from her group of friends told her that she wasn't the only one who had failed the exam. Dysariel's plan was holding up, which surprised none of them, after all he always got the best marks.

However, it was two other notifications that caught his attention. They were from Bucky:

Bucky Bear At 10.30pm: Hello Sunflower, I hope your day went well and that you managed to pass your mid-term. Give me your availability for tomorrow, I want to call you for your birthday. At 00:00: If my clock in New York is telling the right time for you, it's time for me to wish you a very happy birthday, my Sunflower. I haven't heard from you, so I assume you've fallen asleep. Thinking of you. PS: I also have a surprise for you that should arrive later today.   Sunflower At 00:15: Thank you, Bucky Bear! I'll be available from midday. I don't have any exams in the afternoon. Do I get a hint about my surprise? I'm thinking of you too. Bucky Bear  At 12:16am: Sorry, but if I tell you, it won't be a surprise! I've got to go to one last meeting. Go back to sleep, you need your rest. I can't wait to see you again.

His messages made her smile. He hadn't forgotten her birthday. He was going to surprise her. She had to concentrate on the positives. She wished she could go back to sleep now, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. So she grabbed her computer, plugged in her headphones and started watching videos. 

She was woken up by her seven o'clock alarm, just two hours after going back to sleep. She nearly fell asleep on the train journey to university. 

This morning she had an English grammar exam from nine to noon. However, she already knew that she would get out early because it was the subject she had mastered the most. Two or three exercises were more complicated and she could guess that she wouldn't get all the points. The most important thing was that she would at least pass the subject.

Zephyr, Dysariel, Axel and Ophélia went out more or less at the same time as her. They stayed another hour to eat together at one of the local fast-food restaurants. They talked about everything and anything. And Bucky.

"So," asked Dysariel, "how are things going with your handsome soldier?"

"Fine," replied Willow, blushing. I'm just a bit scared..."

"Of what?"

"That it's going too fast. Besides, the age difference is great, I mean he's over a century old."

They laughed together and all advised her the same thing: they were sure that what was between her and Bucky was special, but she had to take her time and think about her well-being.

Then came the time to go home. Zephyr went first, his parents being stricter about his going-out times. Then it was Ophélia's turn, as she had almost two hours by train to get home. Dysariel had things to do and wanted to revise for the hardest exam on Thursday: US history. Axel and Willow were the last to leave.

They had barely taken a few steps out of the main building when Axel remarked to Willow, "Look who's here." Indeed, Bucky was coming towards them, in a superb black suit. "I've got a train to catch and I think you deserve some time with him. Happy birthday again and see you on Thursday!" Before Willow could reply, Axel had already crossed the pedestrian crossing. When she turned her head towards Bucky, he was standing next to her, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands.

"Happy birthday, Willow. I hope you don't mind that I came unannounced, I definitely wanted to surprise you." He looked tired but happy to see her again. As for her, she couldn't say a word because she was so surprised. She could only throw herself into his arms.

He held her close. Her long blonde hair smelt of monoi, the scent they both associated with summer. Bucky could already see himself taking her on holiday to the beach, or to New York to meet the people he considered to be his family.

Together they got into the car. "I was thinking we could go for lunch somewhere?" Bucky suggested.

"We've already eaten with the others. Maybe tonight?"

"Yes, of course. Say, I've booked a hotel room for the week, at the park where we spent our first date. We can also spend the day there tomorrow. Are you interested?

"Why not."

Bucky noticed that Willow didn't seem as cheerful as usual. He gently stopped the car at the side of the road, and turned to her, "Is everything all right?" Worry showed on his face and Willow couldn't help crying. There was the stress of the exams, the happiness of seeing Bucky again, the fears that were interfering with her thoughts.

So she told him about all the doubts she had about their relationship. She apologised several times. Bucky took her face in his hands: "Willow, look at me. It's all right, I'm not angry with you. Unless you never want to see me again, we'll take our time. We'll go at your pace. I promise you that. Now, I just want to know if we spend the afternoon and tomorrow together, or if I drop you off at your place?"

"I think I'm scared because of what happened with my old boyfriends."

"Willow, you don't have to tell me about it. Only do it if you want to or if you're ready."

"I am."

"Then we'll talk about it, but let me take you out for dessert. I know when you get really anxious and it calms down, you get hungry right after."

The fact that he remembered little details like this warmed her heart, and a big smile lit up her face. Bucky started the car again, one hand resting on Willow's thigh. Willow put her hand on his. She was already feeling a little lighter.

I hope you love this chapter, I'm writing the next one ! Do not hesitate to like, comment and reblog if you feel comfortable to do so !

[steddie-island]

Christmas Magic

@steddiemas day 22 - Santa shenanigans | WC: 560 | Rating: G Also read on ao3

“Are the girls finally asleep?” Steve smiled up at Eddie from his spot on the couch. “Yeah.” Eddie took Steve’s book out of his hand and pushed his glasses up onto his head before lying down against his chest. “They got two stories, Harper had a glass of water, and I promised that we would wake them up if we heard reindeer on the roof.” He tucked his head against Steve’s shoulder and they wrapped around one another. 

“And you made sure they were both fully asleep?” Steve asked as he carded Eddie’s hair back off of his face. 

“I did.” Eddie tilted his face up to kiss his husband’s jaw. “So… are you ready?”

Steve grinned, pecked Eddie’s lips, and gently pushed at his hip. “Let’s play Santa.” 

This was Eddie’s favorite part of Christmas. Of course he loved other parts– the cookie decorating, cracking out Wayne’s hot chocolate recipe when it got really cold out, the nights they spent in a pile of blankets on the floor watching Christmas movies. But playing Santa? That was where he really got to shine. 

The living room was staged just perfectly. There was a tree in the corner with gifts stacked around the base of it. Next to the gifts they had a table set up with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies waiting on it. The stockings were hung up on the fireplace, and a fire had been burning low all day. 

Step one was putting the fire out, and knocking some of the logs and ash loose, like someone had slipped on them while coming down the chimney. Ash was smeared on the edge of the carpet– after Steve made sure it would come out of the fabric first. 

Then they grabbed Eddie’s favorite boots and the baby powder, and while one held the boots the other sprinkled the powder around the foot of it. They made a path from the fireplace to the tree, then to the table, then all the way back to the fireplace. 

The paper used on the Santa gifts was completely different, and Eddie took his sweet time writing their Harper and Willow’s names and from Santa in curling script on the gift tags.

Steve drank the milk, and Eddie ate the cookies, with just a bit of each left as evidence. The pièce de résistance this year was a silver bell, left right beside the fireplace, with an untied piece of ribbon, like it had simply come loose and fallen while Santa had made his exit back up the chimney.

It was so simple, only took half an hour to set up, but Eddie could already imagine the looks on those precious faces in the morning. They would have to spend a lot more time cleaning it up, but it was more than worth it. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie and kissed the side of his head as they took in the scene together. “Think they’ll like it?” he murmured.

“I think they’re gonna lose it,” Eddie said. He grinned wide and caught Steve’s hand before tugging him towards the stairs. “Come on. I want my Christmas present now.”

Steve stopped to turn the lights off, leaving the living room glowing with the light coming from the Christmas tree, and he chased Eddie up the stairs to their bedroom. 

[clarkes-and-god]

"Doll, are you sure your parents are going to like me? I mean, it's my first time meeting them, and if we don't get on, I don't want to be imposing myself for the entire weekend."

"Of course they will! They've heard so much about you, and they've been wanting to meet you for ages now, don't worry. They're so excited to finally meet you, especially my dad."

"What, so he can shoot me? I don't know, Mira, I just want to make a good impression, it's important to me and I don't want to mess it up with them."

"Don't be silly, my dad's not like that, honey. If he didn't like you, he would have told me, believe me. They'll like you, I promise."

"Hey sweetheart, welcome home! How are you two doing?"

"Hi Mom! Hi Daddy! We're doing good, Farris is so excited to meet you!"

"That's great to hear! You kids come inside, and we can be properly introduced."

"How's school, sweetie? Is everything going ok, nothing too hard?"

"It's great, Daddy, I can't believe I'm about to graduate! Farris is graduating at the same time, and then he'll be a fully qualified solicitor. You should ask him about it, I'm so proud of him, it's hard work."

"Daddy, I'd like you to meet Farris. Farris, this is my dad. Farris is from Willow Creek, and he's studying law, like I said on the phone. We met at the Christian Society that he runs, and I've met his family and they're lovely people. His dad is Maximus Montague, one of the politicians who passed that tax reform, the one that reduced your taxes."

"Pleased to meet you, sir. I've got to say, your house and Oasis Springs is absolutely beautiful. Mira is such a sweet girl and I'm excited to get to know you and your wife, from what Mira's said you both sound wonderful. And I'm glad you like my father's work, he's an inspiration to me, especially now I'm graduating."

"It's great to have you here, Farris. I'm happy to know that some of your generation still has ambition and wants to keep up the family legacy, you know? My son, Carter, wants to go into the military and I'm glad he has a goal, but some kids these days just want everything handed to them on a platter, being communists and on food-"

"Hi honey! I'm Mallory, Mira's mom. It's so great to finally meet you, we've heard a ton about you! Tell you what, why don't you and Markus go to the living room, I think there's a football game on the TV. Me and Mira can fix some snacks and then we'll come join you."

"Oh, thank you ma'am, that sounds great. You're very, uhm, welcoming."

"Does Farris like chocolate chip cookies? Me and Charlotte made some yesterday, I can put them out on the coffee table."

[whispering] "He does, Mom, but don't you think you might have come off a little intense, hugging him like that? I mean, don't worry about it but I don't think he was expecting it."

[whispering] "I'm sorry, honey, I'm just so excited for you. You're growing up, graduating, and you have a proper relationship now. And he seems great, him and his family, I don't want to make a bad impression, you know? But I'll tone it down if you think that'd be better, sweetie."

"So, Farris, tell me about this solicitor thing. What type of law are you going into? I'm a Captain in the Army myself, so I can't say I know much about all this academic stuff."

"Corporate law, sir. It's a good career but not the most interesting to talk about, mostly just writing contracts and the like. But you're a Captain? That's a very honorable career, sir, and I bet the day-to-day is much more interesting than law. And you said your son wants to go into the military? That's fantastic that he wants to continue your legacy."

"It is, I'm very proud of all my children. Dolly's doing fantastic at school, and she's got all her new, respectable friends from that Christian Society of yours, and I have to say you've made a good impression of yourself, too. Birdie, her sister, has just gone off to Britechester too, I doubt you know her but she wants to be one of those teachers that helps delayed children, in wheelchairs and stuff. I had my concerns about my girls going to college, but my wife convinced me otherwise and they seem to have been doing great. It's not like they're doing anything inappropriate for women either, a nutritionist and a teacher. Then my boy, Carter, wants to join me in the military, like you said, and he's doing excellent with his sport at school, too. He's on the football team, very impressive for a freshman. And my little one, Charlotte, isn't the most academic, like myself. But she's a pretty girl and she's doing excellent in her pageants. She's just the sweetest little girl too, you'll probably meet her today."

[fanofstuff01]

Making a proper intro post

Rules (and other mildly important stuff)

-Minors do not interact. This account has 18+ content and I often use swears in casual talking. Here. Even if you stay you are warned.

-I am not very online, so asks/rbs/replies can wait for even weeks, but I’ll get to them as soon as I can, promise.

-I’m not exactly comfortable with chatting/getting personal DMs from people I don’t follow/don’t know due to an experience I went through before, so if you have anything to ask about me just send it through the ask box.

-I have respect for all shippers as long as it’s not minor x adult both physically and mentally, relative x relative, abusive etc. If you ship anything like this GO AWAY.

-I do have some ships I hate, and I may speak of them bad or mock them in the account, but I still don’t mind if you ship them. You do you and I do mine.

-I do not want controversies unless they're directly tied to me. Other than that please do not drag me into them unless it's actually needed.

-Okay, so just adding this cause this is my pinned post, but Turkey is currently closing a lot of apps to access cause of reasons I don’t know. If one day I go completely offline, know that I can’t access Tumblr.

With that’s out of the way,

About

-So, hey :] I’m fanofstuff, a bland person who finds her stress relief in her Tumblr, and this is my dumb little account about my ship ships, aus and fandoms.

-This account is mainly focused on Hazbin but I just post things from the back of my head lol

-ADAMSAPPLE BITCHES!

-Multishipper for most

-My English is not the best cause I’m Turkish, so sorry for possible stupid grammar mistakes.

-I happen to be alive but gay (bi) 😔. Also I’m in the ace spectrum and use she/her.

-I sometimes write ass fics because I fucking can

-I have two rp accounts for Adam and Lucifer, @the-original-dick-1 and @the-king-of-hell-66-6. I also have a Charlie and Vaggie ask blog, @chaggie-askblog and an Angel Dust one, @ask-angel-dust-4

Fandoms

-Hazbin Hotel (Main)

Favorite character: Lucifer

-Ninjago

Favorite Character: Jay, Cole or Lloyd

-Percy Jackson

Favorite Character: Percy, Nico, Hazel or Leo

-Gravity Falls

Favorite Character: Dipper, Bill or Grunkle Stan

-The Owl House

Favorite Character: Willow

-Slay the Princess

Favorite Character: The Voice of Cold, The Thorn Princess or The Spectre Princess

-Murder Drones

Favorite Character: N

-Ramshackle

Favorite Character: Skipp, Vinnie or Stone

-Night in the Woods

Favorite Character: Gregg or Mae

-Helluva Boss

Favorite Character: Fizzarolli, Stolas or Bee

-Mouthwashing

Favorite Character: Swansea, Daisuke or Anya

-Tangled the Series

Favorite Character: Rapunzel or Varian

And more but I’m on these rn

Does Eurovision 2024 count? lol

Main Ships

-Adamsapple (Adam x Lucifer)

-Emilute (Emily x Lute)

-Fallenstar (Vaggie x Charlie)

-Guitargates (Adam x Saint Peter)

-Staticmoth (Vox x Valentino)

-Cherrisnake (Cherri Bomb x Sir Pentious)

-Lava (Cole x Kai)

-Hydroelectric (Jay x Nya)

-Pixane (Pixal x Zane)

-Plasma (Kai x Jay)

-Percabeth (Percy x Annabeth)

-Solangelo (Will x Nico)

-The Long Quiet x Princess

-Lumity (Luz x Amity)

-Huntlow (Hunter x Willow)

-Dipcifica (Dipper x Pacifica)

-Raeda (Raine x Eda)

-Nuzi (N x Uzi)

-Rapunzel x Eugene

-Varigo (Varian x Hugo)

-Fizzozzie (Fizz x Ozzie)

-M&M (Moxxie x Millie)

-Stoliz (Stolas x Blitz)

And more

Other social media

AO3: @/fanofstuff02

Tiktok: @/fanofstuff03

Twitter/X: @/fanofstuff04

Bluesky: @/fanofstuff05

Here I’m unoriginal

That’s all, enjoy!

[arimabari]

Kyne's Priestess

Not really a microfic so much as a snippet from the longfic I'm writing, but I really enjoyed how I wrote Kyne/Kynareth and wanted to show it off here Basic Summary: a priestess of Kynareth (and unknowing Dragonborn) gets scolded by her patron for being a shut in. 907 words.

-

An autumn wind channeled through the woods of the West Weald, causing fallen leaves to dance and the river to run faster than its usual flow. Tatia emerged like an angry nymphe rising from her stream, silently cursing the wave that almost sent her drifting down the bend. She didn’t need a word of discipline to know that her patron felt scorned. The woods themselves would punish her, and with their own innate cruelty: a reminder that what sustains her can just as easily consume her if taken for granted. The priestess closed her eyes, took in a breath, then started towards camp. 

As she padded along the grass, the shadow of a bird cast itself above her head. It held in the air, capturing the morning sun on its back, then settled on a nearby branch where her clothes hung dry. The creature bore the resemblance of an eagle, with sharp talons and brown-speckled wings that stretched the length of its perch - but that was where the similarities ended. Its face had no eyes, no golden beak, but was flattened instead by a clay mask which mirrored the visage of man. The creature craned its neck to an unnatural degree and spoke to her in hushed whispers, like a whistle in the breeze. 

“Teach you to forget your morning hymns, my little flightless thing.” 

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not in a singing mood.” Tatia muttered, her voice lacking in warmth or sincerity. She paid no mind to it as she stood by the campfire and started wringing the water from her soot-painted curls. “I hardly slept last night with all the noise coming from the road.”

The creature laughed, and it sounded like chimes beating against the wind. “Ah, yes! The men in the painted wagons! I was drawn to them in the night after I fell out of a breeze. They had built a fire that burned large and bright, and around that fire they sang and danced and played little pipes until morning dewdrops freshened in the new day. So drunk they were on wine and mirth that they collapsed right there in the grass and made a bed of it!” 

“I’m sure you kept their fire burning long after its time.” Tatia remarked.

“I did.” the creature mused. She could hear the smile in its voice. “I kept it low and steady - strong enough to keep them warm but not scorching, and I watched over their sleeping bodies like a mother guards her young. Before long they crawled into their little wagons and cracked the reins, and the hooved beasts carried them off into the horizon.” it then remarked, “I might have been more generous with you this morning, had you half a mind to join them!” 

The priestess scoffed at that. “I hate large gatherings. You know that.” 

“Hate!” the creature made a hissing noise and beat its wings against the air in a huff. “Oh, and how well you keep it! Your heart is surely made of stone. It holds no joy, no sorrow, nor anything that breathes life into your fellow man. How often I’ve brought you sweet smells and pleasant melodies only for you to turn your head. You’ve never once delighted in them - not one! And there is no greater offense to me than that.” 

“Then find some other priest to sing your praises at the crack of dawn.” Tatia whipped around to glare at the beast, her thick brows furrowed with contempt. “The things that live in these woods are protected so long as I’m here to keep it that way. That is the promise I made to you.”  

“Yes.” the creature replied, speaking softly and with immeasurable patience. “I know very well the promise that you made, just as I know the company you keep with the larks and the roaming bear, and the willows longing for their wild youth in the days of old Cyrod. It is through their eyes that I have watched you crawl upon the green like a low and humble beast, spitting at anything that may disturb the peace.” The creature paused and beat its wings against the air once more. It dug its talons into the linen folds hanging on the branch, then took to the air with them - only to drop them on the priestess’ head.

Tatia cursed, her voice muffled the fabric. “Hey-!”

“But you are neither lowly nor humble.” the creature continued. “And I did not make you so you could spend your days frolicing among daisies. For seven years you have stood as vigil as the hare, witnessing the world from the safety of your den - but you will not lay sleeping forever.” a strong gust of wind flung the creature higher into the air, and it sang in tongues unknown to the priestess below. 

“Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod. Rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein.” it circled above her, chanting. “Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok. Fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!”

The priestess pulled the linen from her face and watched on in stubborn silence. She expected the creature to leave her with that, as it always does. It talks and talks, and by the time she thinks to question it, it takes to the sky without a word.

Serves me right for thinking I could have a quiet morning to myself, she thought.

[soft-persephone]

Scattered Promises 3

Din Djarin x Fem!OriginalCharacter

Rating: Mature // MDNI // WC: 1.2k // warnings: violence, fighting, sexual tension // masterlist // AN: I always write with black women in mind, but remember! Anyone can read it!! // Ch.2. // Ch.4. //

Amiyra hadn’t seen much of Din after her arrival. She stayed one night at the palace until Paz came and opened up his home to her. It had more to do with Penny asking if Amiyra knew any better, but she wasn’t going to bring it up because it would definitely cause another fight, so she only told them it was temporary until she was settled and found a place just for her and the kids. 

Sammy went to some sort of community child group. She called it a daycare, but that got her several hard stairs and a firm, ‘ it isn’t”. 

She made sure not to make that mistake again. 

Jasmine was much older, so she was doing so many things. . .violent things.

She tried no to think about it.

Different cultures have different customs, different rituals, different beliefs and religions, and violence was a part of theirs. Or is it rooted in a love for armor and weaponry? Perhaps an origin of a warrior people. 

All of the above most likely. She listened to the history, but she’d rather just read about it. She knows the people they have teaching her throughout the day get tired of her constant questioning and berating  context. It got so bad that they had Din sent somethign from inside the wall. 

She trekked to the clearing in the deep forest past the willow tree and up the hill. She did not expect a ring of dirt formed through years of use from the many fights held in this area by the Mandalorians in training. There were a few wooden sheds that were worn with age but sturdy to last all these years for equipment as well a small one that served as a med bay, but it did not seem to get much use if anyone asked her about it. 

Mandalorians wouldn’t admit it, but Amiyra found them to be a proud people. They did not ask for much help and tended to push or persevere their way through everything, or at least that was the impression she got from the ones that lived in the village. She hadn’t met many within the city walls, but it was clear that they were different. 

“Change of plans,’ The mandalorian she was being trained by said, “it's not like you’ve never fought before in your life. It is clear you are a survivor.”

She nodded respectfully at his comment. Jamor was not a man of many words.

“Today we have a special warrior who has taken a personal interest in your ability to fight like all Mandalorians. He is brutal, but he comes from a time where we were at our worst as a people. We did not have our home as freely as we do now, and that meant we were in a constant war wherever we were.” he paused. “Children were raised to join that war as soon as possible.”

“I understand.”

He nodded. 

She did not need him to say anymore, and she respected his usual silence to ask him to stop. 

The last children of the great war were to be respected. It was one of the first rules she had learned in her new life in the village. 

She took her position in the center.

More people were here than usual. Most likely to see the new guest Jamor spoke of. He had to be the one who stood closest to the ring. He had an armor that was worn with time but taken care of, it was brown and slightly rusted. In some places it might have been painted over to hide the rust spots that were too bad.

The rest of the warriors gave him a respectful distance, but they stayed as close as possible, looking at the clearing. Still and silent.

It was the most excitable crowd of Mandalorians she had ever seen. 

“READY!” Jamor called out, he paused for a moment before crying out, ‘HUH!” 

Amiyra went low as usual.

Most people who were taller than her always attacked from above, using their size and strength against her so she tends to opt for speed and agility. She dashed and dogged her opponent's advances, lunging to the side, and jumping back.

Sliding past them at a moment's notice, she got the other woman off guard, letting Amiyra strike her at the neck with all her might causing her to lose her balance and fall. She scrambled upon her back and held her down with a knee refusing to let her up. 

Victory.

Everyone looked at the Mandalorian of honor. 

He stared at her for a moment. His helmet did not reveal anything  nor did his body language change. 

“Again.” he called out. 

And Amiyra fought another warrior, and then another, and then another. 

She was about to face her final opponent, but he stopped them, pulling them back by their shoulder. 

“I’ll do it.” he said through his modulator, grating her ears.

Most of her opponents were tall and strong today, but he was not as tall as they were. However, he was  still very big.

She wouldn’t underestimate him. 

As soon as Jamor called out the beginning of the battle, he was immediately upon her. 

She had no time to dodge, and had to immediately attack back. She was not as intimidated by his size, so she opted for a more offensive approach. 

He hit her ribcage, her shoulder, and barely missed her head. His kicks wee just as swift if not faster. After kicking her in the leg it took all her energy to lunge away from a swipe that had enough force to knock her off her feet. Each blow left a throbbing ache in her body.  If he could get one hit in, there were two more that followed it. She could not follow them, so she started to leave herself open on one side to take advantage of small moments to hit him back. 

She knew how insane it looked. But if she had to take a beating just for a sliver chance to fight back in any capacity, she would take it.

She heard him scoff and before she could react she was on the ground. 

Apparently he was holding back. The last blow was stronger than the rest, knocking her into the ground

He pounced on top of her. Rolling his hips with enough force to bounce her head onto the ground. Her teeth clattering with the impact.

Wrapping his hand around her neck, he brought his face closer to hers, “You favor fighting defensively, and it leaves you at a disadvantage. Learn to attack more, be active. ”

She made a choking sound in response and he tightened his grip. 

After a heartbeat, he let her go and walked away.

The crowd parted and watched him go.

Jamor grasped her arm, helping her up. 

He nodded at her. 

Jamor was one of the few mandalorians that still wore the traditional armor, but what she could gather from his body language she could tell he was proud.

She bowed back and made her way to make the same exit. 

Everyone gave her the same nod or even bowed at her. 

What the actual fuck.

She got her ass handed to her, and they were praising her for it. 

What a world.

“And I thought you couldn't get any stupider.”

“Paz!” Penny warned. “He’s still your king.”

“And who gives a shit when he spends his time doing this dumbassery! He could be using it to better our people!” He banged his fist on the table and stood up.

“We have to gather resources to settle the brewing civil war between two tribes before it reeks irreparable damage on our society all in the midst of preparing for an even bigger attack on our entire planet, but our king,”  he mocks, “decides to spend that time pining over a girl he just met!”

Din’s eye twitched for the second time this month alone. 

And without a word, he swiftly stood and gave Paz the hardest punch to the face with every fiber of strength in his body.

It was a low fucking blow, but when is it not when Paz is the receiver of such a hit.

He was annoying. 

Hed be surprised to discover Paz had ever had the grace to receive a hit that wasn’t.

It caught him off guard and he ran right into the wall.

“Don’t you two start this osik in my house!” Penny hissed before continuing in her worst slew of curses in Mandoa.

Neither apologized, but reluctantly stopped for her benefit. 

Din wanted to pounce on him until he bled, but he’ll wait. There was always time to beat the shit out a Paz. 

“Now Din, there are better ways to get the attention of a girl you like.”

Penny softly switched their newest born into her other arm, gently lifting her breast to let her eat. As their baby daughter closed her little eyes before letting out a coo and sucking on her breast with tiny content noises, she continued.

“And usually has the decency to be honest.”

Din ignored her scolding.

Amiyra had no idea she was the king of their people. She simply thought he worked for him like Paz.

He did not have the heart to tell her. Especially after she told him in confidence that she was not ready to face any higher authority of this planet after her talk with the Armorer which raised another issue.

What had they talked about? Why did the conversation leave her in such a state of distress?

“Amiyra. . .doesn't want anyone like that in her life. Putting on my old armor means I can get to know her without adding unneeded pressure to her life.”

Penny’s shoulders fell, pushed back, and dropped just slightly. 

“I’m in no position to tell you what to do,” she said thinly, “but I don’t think this  is going to end as well as you hope it will.” She sighed. 

“Honesty is always the best option but you’re grown man and how you handle this is your business.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Din may be stubborn but he wasn’t foolish. However, no one was taking into consideration how this was the best option for his sake. 

He didn’t need the whole court coming down on her and wreaking havoc in his life because he’s taking interest in her. Knowing them, they’d tried to usher them into marriage before the next moon cycle.

Amiyra’s life was in a delicate state.

She and her family are transitioning into a new way of life, and he was going to make sure it happened as naturally and peacefully as possible, and he wouldn’t be so selfish to let the personal stressors of his life get in the way of that. 

Why did no one else see that? 

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

at the last stroke of midnight (pt. 4)

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki/Reader

WC: 2,228

Content warnings: aged up characters, everyone is in their 20s or older. fantasy au. no pronouns used for reader, but they are described to wear skirts and are referred to as ‘my lady’. brief descriptions of fantasy violence, brief mention of blood.

part 3 : part 4 (you are here) : part 5

Your hand tingles for the rest of the night. The bells ring out soon after your knight left you standing under the willow, summoning you to your duties. The queen raises an eyebrow at your damp clothes and hair, but doesn’t say anything, as much as you know she wants to.

Not that she really has a chance to. The evening is as much of a spectacle as the rest of the day, ending in a feast while a troupe of circus performers put on a show in the great hall. You’re able to watch most of it from your position next to the queen, only missing parts of it as you run errands back and forth to fill her plate or cup. Your favorite act is the illusion mage, who ends the show with a massive display of illusory fireworks that fill the great hall with light and sound.

During the fireworks display, your eyes meet the varicolored gaze of your knight, seated in the victor’s chair. You’ve felt his eyes on you all throughout dinner, but have been steadfastly ignoring his gaze, choosing to focus on your duties instead. Every time you think of him, a storm of butterflies erupts in your stomach, and your mind keeps bringing up the image of his face as he’d so earnestly asked you to accept the circlet. 

When your gazes met under the dancing lights of the illusory fireworks, he mouths one word at you. You’re not especially skilled at reading lips, but you’d seen those same lips form that same word just a few hours ago.

Beautiful.

You choose to believe that he’s talking about the fireworks, but a part of you, the part responsible for the racing of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach, tells you that he’s talking about you instead. 

This is so hard, you lament to yourself as you stand beside the queen while she thanks all of the nobles for coming. Just a few hours ago you’d been ready to write off the attentions of your knight as nothing more than a passing fancy, and had been ready to move on, but then he’d sought you out and honored your silly promise.

He’d looked so happy when you finally accepted the circlet from him too, and even more pleased when you’d confessed to calling him ‘your knight’. You feel a bit of hope stirring in your heart that he might feel something for you. After all, he walked in on you using your magic and hadn’t even made a passing comment. Instead, he’d put the circlet on your head. You know that he’d been talking about the circlet when he’d said it, but in that moment you had felt beautiful. Your cheeks warm at the memory, and you will the flush away. You’re still on duty, you chide yourself. There will be time to think it over later.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. The queen finishes her goodbyes, at which point it’s quite late. “I think I’d like to retire for the evening,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her. You fall in step behind her, head bowed demurely. The routine of your duties is comforting, and you fall into old habits as you help her out of her heavy gown and begin the process of taking down her hair and brushing it for the evening.

She waits until you’re braiding her hair for sleep before she asks. “That knight who won the tournament was asking after you, you know. Did he ever find you?”

Your hands stop moving, and you look away from her knowing gaze in the mirror. She waits patiently, knowing grey eyes watching you as you scramble for a response. 

“We, ah, met,” you say, returning to your work, deliberately not looking up. 

“I’m glad,” she says evenly. “He was quite desperate to find you, you know. Did he end up giving you the prize?”

Your head shoots up, meeting her eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, dear,” she says softly, turning in her chair to grasp your hand. “Did he not tell you? It’s customary for the winner of the tournament to give the prize to the person they wish to attend the ball with.” 

“What?” you squeak, dropping her unfinished braid. It unravels in a snowy waterfall in front of you, but you don’t see it, mind whirling. “No, he left that part out.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” she apologizes, clasping your hand between her cool hands. “I forgot this is your first festival here. I’ll have to talk to him later.” 

“Do you know him?” you ask.

She pauses for a second. “No,” she says carefully. 

“Do you at least know his name? He was called away before he could tell me, and now I can’t even find him,” you plead.

“I can’t tell you his name, but I have a good idea where to find him,” she muses. “He should be at the training yard tomorrow morning with some of the other knights. Why? What are you going to do?” 

“If he’s going to ask me to the ball, he should at least have the balls to do it properly,” you grouse. “Apologies for the language, your majesty. I’m going to shove that circlet back in his face and tell him that if he can’t ask me directly, I’m not going.” 

Rei laughs, turning back in her chair to face the mirror as you pick her hair back up and resume your task. “Be gentle with the poor boy,” she asks, looking amused. “He probably assumed you knew what it meant.”  

“What is it you told me about assuming, your majesty? Something about how it makes an ass out of you?”

“Fair point,” she concedes. 

You tie off her braid and lay it over her shoulder for her to inspect. “If that’s all, your majesty,” you say, bowing politely. 

“Good night, dear. Good luck tomorrow,” she says, standing up from her chair. “I look forward to you telling me how it goes.”

You excuse yourself with a curtsy and make your way back to your room. The circlet gleams at you from its place on the vanity when you open the door, and you make your way over to pick it up. It really is a beautiful thing. You’ve never owned something so nice, and you already are facing the prospect of giving it back. 

You steel yourself. He should have made his intentions clear, you decide. What would have happened if you hadn’t been told the significance, and with less than a day to spare too? The ball is tomorrow night. Your presence is required as the queen’s lady in waiting, and you had planned on spending the evening stuck to the buffet table, definitely not dancing. 

Sleep does not come easy. You lie awake, tossing and turning, multiple scenarios running through your head. Finally, late into the night as the moon is high in the sky, you fall asleep.

The next morning, you take time getting dressed. You have the morning off- Princess Fuyumi and the queen eat breakfast together on these days, and prefer to be left undisturbed. You take the time thinking over what you want to say to your knight. The queen’s request echoes in your mind. She asked you to be gentle with him, but it doesn’t feel like there’s a gentle way to say what’s on your mind.

He’ll probably be fine, you muse. You had threatened to bite him the first time you met him, after all, and he’d come back after that. The best strategy is to be honest, you decide. 

Mind made up, you grab the circlet from the vanity and leave your room. It’s a short walk to the training grounds, where you hear the sound of voices, accompanied by the clash of metal. There are only a few people in the training grounds, and most of them are cooling off at the water barrels stationed around the arena. 

Taking a deep breath, you approach the first figure you see, a tall man clad in black trousers and a sleeveless black shirt, polishing the haft of a large hammer. He doesn’t look up as you approach, ignoring you until you speak to him.

“Excuse me?” you ask, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah, whaddya want?” he answers, not taking his eyes off his work.

“I’m looking for a knight who fought in the tournament yesterday.”

“A lot of us fought in the tournament yesterday. You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” 

“He had red and white hair, and a scar over his left eye?”

The blond man squints at you. “Tch. Figures you wanna talk to him. Oi, icy hot,” he yells, not moving from his spot. “Some fuckin’ extra wants to talk to you.”

Movement catches your eye as someone exits the armory. You catch a glimpse of the now familiar red and white hair as you turn to look, before you notice.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

Your eyes trace the strong lines of his chest, down the firm abdomen, and the v of his adonis belt, catching on the fine tracing of hair that disappears into the band of his trousers. The muscles glisten with a fine sheen of sweat in the late morning sun, and you feel your mouth water.

“It’s good to see you again, my lady,” he says, voice low and tinged with amusement. 

You quickly snap your eyes up to his face. He’s watching you with a faint smirk, his shirt held loosely in one hand.

You thrust the circlet out towards him, and the amusement quickly fades from his face. “What’s this for?” he asks, keeping his hands at his sides. 

“I didn’t know what it meant, when you gave it to me the first time,” you explain, gesturing for him to take the circlet from you. “If you’re not just honoring some silly promise and you really want me to go to the ball with you, ask me again. Properly, this time.” 

He takes the circlet from you, his hands gentle. “I’m not sure if I can ask you properly here,” he says.

Your heart sinks. You take a step back, ready to flee.

“I’d want to ask you over dinner, preferably with flowers,” he continues, reaching out for you. “Definitely not while sweaty and surrounded by dirt and grime.” 

“If you’re just gonna flirt, take it elsewhere, icy hot. You’re making me gag,” the blond grumbles, glaring up at your knight. “Get it over with and leave.”

Your knight wraps cool fingers around your wrist, his gentle grip stilling your movements. “Let me be perfectly clear about my intentions, this time. I accepted your deal because I knew from the first word you spoke to me, I wanted you to go with me. Please, will you give me the honor of your company this evening?”

You can only look at him. His face is so open, his eyes earnest as he looks at you. His long fingers squeeze your wrist gently, as if he’s holding himself back from pulling you closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, sliding your hand in his grip to twine your fingers with his. 

His shoulder sag with relief, and he uses your twined hands to slowly pull you into his orbit. You can smell him, this close. Underneath the scent of sweat and metal is the warm smell of a campfire, and a note of pine trees in winter. You sway closer to him, drawn in by his scent and the heat of his body. 

You tilt your face up to his. He really is beautiful, this close. Your eyes drop to his lips- you know how soft they are, and you can’t help but wonder how they would feel pressed against your own.

“Not here,” he breathes, and you can feel the air move against your lips. “I want to do this properly.” 

He squeezes your hand and takes a half step back, putting space between you two. “I look forward to seeing you tonight, my lady.”

Before he can walk away, you reach out and grab his arm, stilling his movement. “Wait. You have to tell me your name.”

His face pinches, a furrow appearing on his brow before it smooths out. “I suppose that’s only fair,” he says. “My name is Shouto.” 

“Like the prince?” you squint up at him. 

“Yes, like the prince.” He huffs a laugh, but there’s a cautious look on his face. 

“It’s a good thing he’s away from court right now then,” you muse. “I imagine it would be confusing, for both the prince and the tournament winner to have the same name.”

The blond next to you barks out a laugh. Shouto grimaces and grabs your hand again, pulling you to the entrance of the training grounds.

 “I must apologize in advance, my lady. I have duties to attend to at the beginning of the ball, so I will not be able to escort you in. I hope you’ll save a dance for me?” he asks, voice hopeful. 

“It’s going to be crowded. How will you find me?”

“Don’t worry, my lady.” He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I would find you anywhere.”

[coraniaid]

Oooh there are so many good prompts, it's hard to choose! I'm gonna go with Fuffy + 13. “You make me feel safe.” :)

Sorry this took so long! To be honest, I'm still not 100% happy with it, but one of the things I was trying to do with these prompts was let myself write quick and short stand-alones without worrying too much about editing them afterwards and it's already been over three weeks. Hopefully it works okay as it is.

This is an almost canon-compliant S7, except that Faith got broken out of prison and came to Sunnydale a few months earlier than she did in canon.

Faith remembers the first night she ever came to Buffy’s house.

She’d only been in Sunnydale for a couple of days.  Hadn’t had a decent meal since getting off the coach.  Or for a couple of weeks before getting on the coach, come to think of it.  And, yeah, maybe Buffy’s invitation had seemed a little stiff, a little bit unenthusiastic - maybe she'd got the sense, even then, that Buffy didn't exactly want her around - but she’d still figured it was worth it. Where was the harm in checking out how the other Slayer lived, with a free meal along the way?

She’d already known Buffy had things easier than she did, but she hadn’t really been ready for just how much she had. For just how rich her life was.  She remembers looking around the living room before they ate, thinking how big it was – how full of furniture and art and books and framed photos of Buffy and her family – how much smaller and emptier it made the shitty little motel she was sleeping in feel.  She remembers sitting opposite Buffy at a huge table, trying to play it cool, while Buffy’s mom kept bringing in bowl after bowl of food from out of the kitchen.  She remembers the way Joyce had asked Faith questions while she ate, had seemed interested in her answers in a way Faith doesn’t think most people ever were. In a way nobody had treated Faith before Diana. And she remembers the way Buffy’s kid sister had looked at her while they all ate: like she was the coolest person she’d ever met, maybe the coolest person alive.  A superhero, or something.  

(From what Faith’s been told, this part didn’t happen.  Dawn wasn’t really there. Faith’s not too clear on exactly where she was.  But that’s how she remembers it.)

The part with Buffy’s mom had been real though.  She’s pretty sure of that.  She remembers as well that, weeks later, Joyce had worried about Faith spending the holidays alone and gotten Buffy to invite her over for Christmas.  Joyce had always looked out for her.  Always cared about her.  Now Joyce is dead, and practically the last memory of her Faith has is of holding a knife to her throat and promising to kill her.  Just one more evil fucked-up thing she’s done that she’s never going to be able to make right.   

Truth is that she’d been kind of awestruck back then, and not just by the house.  Not just by Buffy’s family.  By all of it.  By Buffy’s whole life.  She’d even let.herself think that maybe she had a place here.  Somewhere safe.  Somewhere she belonged, with someone who might …  well, whatever.  She always had been a little slow.  Buffy had made it clear where they really stood soon enough.  That there were parts of her life Faith would be tolerated in, if not exactly welcomed, and other parts that were pretty much permanently off limits. 

Four years later, the place doesn’t seem quite so big.

These days the Summers’ house has to hold a lot more people than just three. Not just Buffy and her sister, but Willow, Xander and Anya too, plus an ever-growing small army of Potential Slayers.  And Faith herself, of course.  Somehow she’d made it here after all.  It isn’t quite what she’d expected.  And not just because it's an awful lot more crowded.  

That’s why, when it happens, Faith’s not totally surprised to find Buffy waiting outside the room she’d managed to snag for herself when she first arrived here in the fall.  The other Slayer looks at her a little nervously, like she’s about to break some bad news.  Still, at least Faith knows it can’t be too terrible.  She’s just got back from a late night patrol, and everyone who should be alive in here still is. For now.

“Willow and I have been talking, and … um,” Buffy hesitates. "Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?"

What Buffy manages not to say – as if everyone in the house didn’t know – is that Red and Kennedy have been getting real serious lately, and not exactly shy about expressing their affections either.  They weren't exactly keeping their hands to themselves. So unless Buffy had gotten a lot more relaxed about some things in the last three years – which Faith kind of doubts, whatever that Spike guy says – she could hardly keep sharing her old room with Willow the way she’s been doing since Faith arrived.

Faith rather likes Kennedy, all things considered.  She’s got a bit of an attitude on her, sure, and she goes out of her way to get in Buffy’s face a lot more often than she should, but then, Faith would have to be awfully hypocritical to get mad at somebody else for doing any of that.  Besides, you need an attitude if you’re going to make it as a Slayer.  Need some sort of edge.  You need a bit of backbone and self-confidence, just as much as you need the actual superpowers, if you’re planning to live for long.  So Kennedy’s all right, as far as Faith’s concerned.   

That’s why she reminds herself not to be too mad at the Potential for costing her a comfortable bed at training tomorrow morning.  Tells herself she won’t spend too much time thinking up more painful drills tonight.  Or at least that she won’t actually make Kennedy do many of them.

"No problem, B," she says now with a casual shrug. "I guess I'll see if there's a spare cot in the basement."

Oddly, that doesn’t seem to be the answer Buffy was hoping for.  She frowns, like Faith’s just said something wrong.  

(That’s a look that Faith’s had plenty of time to get used to in her years in Sunnydale.)

"No," Buffy tries again.  "I meant, maybe I could sleep with you.”  

The other Slayer’s eyes widen slightly a second after she says that, which Faith figures means it takes her that long to properly hear what she actually said.

“In the same room, I mean!” the other Slayer clarifies quickly.  “That we should share.  But not … you know.”

Yeah, Faith knows.  She might be slow, but Buffy’s been pretty clear about that.  And it’s not like Faith’s ever been exactly subtle about making the offer..

(“What are friends for?” she remembers asking Buffy once, out on patrol, a few nights before everything went bad.  On one of the last good nights, before Faith had managed to ruin things forever.  And Buffy had just looked at her, the way she always did back then, prim and proper and faintly disapproving, and told her that she thought “that stuff” ruined friendships.  

So they both knew where they stood, even back then.  At least she’d never been desperate enough to beg.)

“Unless ... that's not weird, is it?” Buffy asks her. “ You wouldn’t mind?  You can find somewhere else if you want, or I can, only I–"

Watching Buffy nervously babble, a faint blush still visible on her cheeks, Faith could almost kid herself that no time at all had passed since she first arrived in Sunnydale.  That there’s going to be some big test at school that the older Slayer’s all stressed out about.  That she doesn’t work there, that she isn’t suddenly old enough to own a house and have a job and be raising her kid sister all by herself.  That as late as it is, they could still sneak out to the Bronze after this, just the two of them, and that this time, maybe …

“It’s your house,” Faith says with another shrug, not sure if she wants to think about how she feels about sharing a room with Buffy, even now.  “As long as you don’t snore, we’re five by five.”

The familiar way Buffy reacts that – like she’s affronted, but not actually angry – makes Faith think she must’ve managed to hit the right tone this time.

“I don’t snore,” Buffy says firmly.  “Anything Dawn says to suggest otherwise is a total lie.”

"That’s okay, B," Faith makes herself grin, trying to hang on to the familiar feeling while she can. "I've shared a cell with girls who do a lot worse than snore."

“Surprised you ain’t sharing a room with Dawn, actually,” she admits, a little bit later, once they’re both inside.  “Or one of the Potentials.”

Somebody who isn’t her, she means.  Somebody that Buffy might actually like.  Somebody she can trust.

“Well, Dawn’s the one who snores,” Buffy says.  “And she needs some space of her own.  For homework, and for … I just don’t want to take that away from her.”

Faith’s not sure what to say to that. Even before she was Called, she never had the sort of childhood Buffy or her sister had.  Never got to be just a girl, the way that they both did.  To have the sort of easy life kids have in crappy teen dramas.  Not that she’s the only one missing out; she guesses a lot of other girls don’t ever get the chance either. A fair few of the Potentials sleeping under this very roof didn't, for a start. 

But watching the way Buffy fights to give Dawn the chance to have that sort of childhood – to protect her from the world, as long as she can –  makes Faith feel … well, she isn’t sure.  Proud, maybe, but sort of sad at the same time. Because nobody ever fought for that on her behalf. Because there's nobody left to fight for it for Buffy. 

She doesn’t know how to explain any of that though.  Guesses Buffy would think she would be being presumptive if she tried.  So she doesn’t say a word.

“And the other girls … they don’t get it,” Buffy says.  “They look at me like I’m something I’m not.  Like I’m like Ri– some kind of army guy.  A general.  Like I’m trying to be special; to put myself above them.  They don’t understand what it means to be like us.”

Truth is Faith isn’t sure what it means to be like them.  If she knew how to be like Buffy, maybe things a few years ago could’ve worked out differently.  She’d convinced herself, for a bit, back in prison, that that’s all she’d ever wanted.  To have been like Buffy: so much like her that she didn’t have to think about being herself anymore.  To have been so good at pretending to be her better half  that she became her.

Then Red had helped bust her out of prison, she’d found herself back in Sunnydale  – because Buffy needed her, so what kind of choice did she have?  – and she’d had to admit to herself that that wasn’t all she’d wanted.  It never had been.

They’re both in bed – on opposite sides of the room, so far apart they couldn’t touch even if they’d wanted to – before the other Slayer speaks again. Buffy had grabbed the bed closest to the window, so to a Slayer’s eyes she’s easy enough to see with the moonlight shining through the curtains. Faith though … well, she's in the dark, isn’t she? That part feels familiar too.

“Is it weird?” Buffy asks her.  “Being back here?”

Faith’s glad, suddenly, that Buffy can’t see her in the darkness.  Can’t see the sudden guilty look on her face; that she doesn’t have to pretend not to be surprised that her thoughts were so obvious. 

“Beats prison, I guess,” she says.

There’s a short silence from the other side of the room.

“Right.  I meant to ask.  Was it …” Buffy doesn’t finish the question.  That’s good.  It means Faith doesn’t have to lie to her.

Prison had sucked.  Of course it had.  Probably would have been a lot worse if Faith hadn’t had her strength and her healing and all the other side-benefits of being a Slayer.  Or maybe not.  Maybe if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have had that same itch, every night.  The need to fight, to hunt down demons and monsters, the conviction that she belonged out there, fighting vampires.  The false conviction that the world needed her out there, fighting the good fight.   

Because it was false.  The world had been just fine without her.  Because there was only ever supposed to be one of them, and it was never meant to be her. She didn’t have anything good left to offer anyone anyway.  She’d belonged in prison.  Buffy had said as much.  And if Buffy said it, it had to be true, no matter how much it hurt.  That was pretty much the one thing Faith had learned since she got here.  That Buffy was the good Slayer, and that she was … the other one.

“The other week,” Buffy says slowly, “Anya told me that …”

Faith feels herself tensing up a little.  She doesn’t really get Anya.  She’s a little odd, even for Sunnydale.  She doesn’t remember her from back in the day either.  Some of the things she says don’t really make any sense, but she figures that’s none of her business.  Hell, apparently the girl was all set to marry Xander Harris.  Why should anything she say make any kind of sense?  But if she's been bitching about Faith behind her back, if she said something that upset Buffy, then maybe–

“Nevermind,” Buffy says, cutting that thought off.  “It’s not important.”

Faith feels herself relaxing slightly, a bit of tension draining out of her.  Neither of them speaks for a few more minutes.

"I'm glad you're back, anyway," Buffy says sleepily, just as Faith’s about to nod off herself. "You being here again … it's good. You make me feel safe."

Even at her most pathetic moments behind bars, Faith doesn't think she'd ever let herself imagine Buffy saying that to her.

"Uh, B," she says slowly.  “You might wanna rethink that idea.  Last I checked, most people in this house are a lot safer to be around than I am.  I mean, there’s a reason Dawn leaves the room whenever I come in, and it’s not just because I keep helping myself to that cereal she likes.” 

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little, the whole cold shoulder treatment.  Especially since, the way Willow explained it, Dawn’s the one person Faith remembers from her visit to Sunnydale who she didn’t really do anything to.  Sure, she remembers saying things to her, waving a knife in her face, but that wasn’t her.  It didn’t really happen.

But she gets it.  Of course she does.  It might not be real, but it may as well be.  They both remember it all the same.  And it’s nothing she wouldn’t have done, given the chance.  She’d done a lot worse, hadn’t she?  To people Dawn cared about.  To her mom.  To Buffy.

“Dawn really liked you,” Buffy says quietly.  “She was really hurt when .. you know.  But she’ll get over it eventually. She'll forgive you.”

Faith frowns at that.  Swallows in the dark.

“Maybe she shouldn’t,” she says.  “Maybe I don’t deserve that.  The things I did … to Joyce, to you … maybe nobody should forgive me.  Maybe there’s some things you just can’t ever make right.”

(She remembers the last meeting with Buffy, years earlier.  Back in LA.  In Angel’s place.  Remembers the look on her face.  The tremble of barely suppressed fury in her voice.  “Apologize to me,” Buffy had warned her then, “And I will beat you to death.”  Maybe it would’ve been easier for them both that way.)

“You’re not planning to do anything like that again though, right?” Buffy says, fighting back a yawn, comfortable now in a way Faith doesn’t remember her sounding for years.  For forever, maybe.  “I mean, the First isn’t about to talk you into teaming up to take over the world or anything, right?”

"No," Faith says immediately, awake in a way she wasn’t a minute ago.  "God no, Buffy.  Of course I'd never--"

"So I'm right," Buffy says smugly, and without even turning to look Faith can imagine the satisfied look on her face perfectly.  “This is the safest place I can be right now.”

Faith breathes out, slowly.

“Yeah, I guess,” she says. 

Some things haven’t changed, Faith figures.  However little she likes the thought of being a leader, Buffy sure does love being in control.  Faith can’t say she minds too much though.  Not really.  Deep down, she’s always kind of liked it.

Later, when the other Slayer's fallen asleep, Faith just lays in bed, thinking. Trying to get used to the quiet sounds Buffy makes, lying on the other side of the room. (She doesn't snore, exactly. They're not bad sounds.)

That first year in Sunnydale ... looking back, she'd been so angry, pretty much all the time.  At least, as soon as she’d figured out that Buffy wasn’t ever going to accept her into her life the way she wanted.  She’d wanted so badly to be seen, the way that she could see Buffy.  For the other Slayer to recognize something of herself in Faith, something Faith wasn’t sure she had. Because they were the Chosen Two, the only people in the world like each other, but maybe that wasn’t quite enough.

Because Buffy’s wrong.  She is special.  Not because she’s the Slayer, not because she's some kind of General, not because she saved the world a whole bunch of times – although that helps, sure – but because of everything else. Because of the things about her that Faith’s never been able to understand, never been able to imitate: the things that make her different from the person Faith is.  The things that make her better than Faith is, better than she could ever be.  Because she’s Buffy; and because Faith’s not.

Sometimes it feels as though, ever since she arrived in Sunnydale, maybe even before that, Faith’s been nothing but a pale reflection of the older Slayer.  A bad imitation; a cheap and nasty knock-off.  Sometimes it feels like the only thing Faith’s ever really wanted is for the other Slayer to look at her the way she looks at Buffy.  Like she’s the fulcrum on which the whole world rests; the only bright light in a dark and clouded sky. 

Thing is, she's never going to be that for Buffy.  She gets that now.  She's not ever going to be Angel, or Spike, or even that farmhand boytoy Buffy had hooked up with in college.  No amount of wishing or anger or dreaming is ever going to change that.  It’s just not the way the world will ever work.  But maybe that's okay.  With everything she’s done, she doesn’t deserve any of that anyway.  If there was any justice in the world – if Willow hadn’t come to LA last fall, told her that Buffy needed her – she’d still be rotting in a prison cell.  When all this is over, maybe that’s exactly where she’ll end up.

Maybe.  For now, at least, she gets to be needed.  She gets to help.  She gets to be part of Buffy’s life after all, even if it’s not in the way she would’ve wanted.  She gets to be with Buffy -- on patrol, training the Potentials, and sometimes, when she's lucky, in quiet moments alone like this -- without anybody fighting her or calling the cops on her or trying to drag her back to prison.  She gets to listen to her now, breathing quietly as she sleeps.  And that's enough.  Of course it is.  That has to be enough.  It's more than she deserves.

This First Evil demon thing wants to go after the Slayer line?  It wants to hurt Buffy?  Well, let it try.  It'll have to come through her first.  Plenty of chicks in prison had figured out the hard way that Faith was tougher than she looked.  And she's got something to fight for now.  She's found somewhere that she belongs.  If Buffy wants her to play watchdog again, then that’s something she can do.

Faith falls asleep watching Buffy, committing the sight of her face bathed in moonlight to memory.   Because she knows that, however things go from here, this was one of the good nights.  This is a moment she isn’t going to want to forget.

And when Faith sleeps, she dreams.  She dreams of coming around to Buffy’s house again, the way she had that first night, and doing things all over.   She dreams of Homecoming, and Christmas dinners, and dancing side by side at the Bronze.  She dreams of being brave enough to say how she feels instead of muttering an awkward “nothing” to an already closing door.  Faith dreams of Buffy Summers and second chances, with a smile on her face that she can’t know mirrors the smile of the Slayer sleeping across from her.

For now, in this moment, maybe that’s enough.

[t1meslayer]

Busy with important family events over the next couple of days, and so I thought it would be good to get a day-and-date release for this Debrief on the latest entry in my Sapphic Valley series, "How You Get The Girl." Be sure to read the story before jumping in!

Did you do it? Did you read the story?

Alright, I'm trusting you. Go ahead and hit that 'Keep Reading' button you scamp.

It only seems appropriate to start this Debrief off by addressing the elephant in the room. I haven't posted anything in over a month, and "By Moonlight" came about a month after its predecessor, the conclusion to "Stone-Cold Lovers."

Work, naturally, has been a major factor.

You can see me talk about that almost two weeks ago in this Tumblr post I made about writing in a coffee shop, which came weeks after I actually started writing during a trip to a friend's house.

===

Side note:

Just wanted to take a moment and acknowledge my beautiful Haley and Emily keychains. My friend who's responsible for the affairs of one ghostly farmer named Jizzabelle (Gisabelle to the laymen) got them for me! Only appropriate after I commissioned some art of her and Abigail.

Emily was my first Stardew wife, and Haley currently holds the biggest place in my heart. They make a lovely duo!

And I'll avoid any sister-wife jokes

===

While I've had some other projects like Zine writing to take care of, work and life can't explain the full absence.

The best way I can think to explain things is that:

I had the general writer's block, and

Despite the best intentions and advice of my irl friends and online pals like @alchemicallymoon and @duelbraids, I couldn't force myself to "break" that block by just... Writing something else.

This is entirely the result of my own psychosis. I have a tendency to carefully plot things out and impose a timetable that really doesn't need to exist. When I feel the cause is righteous enough, it's hard to get around that. In this case, I knew I needed to get my poll-winning idea out after dawdling for holidays like Valentine's Day, and then I knew I only wanted to post one more story before jumping on a very special event for my upcoming 30th AO3 post.

Thus, here we are: arbitrarily forcing myself into a spiral of writer's block misery because of a silly promise on Tumblr and my own sense of ordered chaos.

At the very least, this meant it's coming out not long after my AO3 pal InsertACatchyPennameHere also emerged from the woodwork to tell me they're working on something INSPIRED by my four-person friend group farm adaptations.

Much love to them, wherever they may be.

I'll probably start writing more eclectically now that my shoulders are unweighed, but don't expect my next publication to hit until I'm finished working on teasing the big event. All you Pokemon fans better get hype!

And oh how sweet this publication feels. Between my great set of recent ceramics, the figure drawing class I've been attending, and creative writing, I've felt more fulfilled than ever.

You're here to talk about Stardew, though. So let us talk.

This idea began less with any one event as it did a desire to advance the Alexis/Haley relationship, and Haley's characterization in particular. It was always going to end with watercolor painting reference, but 2 Willow Lane was what I really wanted to dig into.

As I see it, a lot of what keeps people invested in Stardew when its comfy vibes becoming routine is the air of mystery in Eric Barone's worldbuilding. Haley and Emily's parents being some world-traveling duo who left their home in the siblings' care for who knows how long (and who knows how many times over their lifetime) really piqued my interest. So much so that the new writing challenge I set for myself in "How You Get The Girl" was crafting a particularly long set of descriptions that emphasize how overwhelming the parents' influence feels — without creating an impenetrable wall of text.

Hopefully I succeeded in that. Let me know!

I tried to include some vaguely real world-adjacent references into that description of the house, as happens with the magical-realism world of Stardew Valley. For example:

The computer sitting next to their bonsai tree is an iMac G3, the kind of old 'futuristic' tech that my dad loves!

A Speedwell refrigerator is based on even more vintage tech, the Mayflower fridge, but named after a different ship ridden by Pilgrims coming to America.

That city that the family visited in an old photograph with a "monument of arching, interlocking steel" is, of course, Paris — with the statue bookends referencing any number of statues in the Louvre.

Haley's FAD magazine could be referencing any number of publications, but Vogue is probably the closest analogue to what I imagine her reading.

Furthermore, I took some notes on describing the home's layout off of my sister's apartment building, and I asked my bestie @trybard for input on what kind of hanging plant should be used in the transitional hallway. Hanging pothos, philodendron, and spider plants were the three options provided, and my response was appropriate:

They know so much about plants.

Go bug them about it.

I drew on other friends' knowledge to help decorate the house. Specifically, I asked one of my witchiest friends what kinds of protective wards someone like Emily would leave around doorways and windows. She had... A lot of reference material.

I picked Hazel given it purportedly "protects against evil; encourages abundance and inspiration." I also picked Amethyst as one of Emily's loved gifts, one that purportedly "absorbs negative energy, promotes harmony."

My witchy friend is the same one who provided the TikTok that I referenced in my advertisement post:

Perhaps the most important thing about 2 Willow Lane was the recurring motif of Barbie's Dream House.

As a surface-level reference, I think the groundwork is clear. Blondie's love of fashion and general queen bee demeanor fits comparisons to Barbie well, and she lives in a big ol' house full of stuff. We all saw Greta Gerwig's Barbie movie last year. It's still in the cultural zeitgeist.

I'm hip with the kids.

Yet, early on I also tried to make it clear that if this is a "dream" house, it's neither Haley's nor Emily's dream. Haley is a Barbie in that stereotypical sense, but also there's much to be mined from the analogy of a sort of powerless doll in an immutable house, constrained by social obligation to her family rather than literal plastic and stickers.

The cold open of Jodi and Sam was meant to stand alone, but in execution I also think drawing Kent's absence into the conversation makes for a more thematically rich comparison to these sisters who appear to have themselves more put together.

My beta reader said this wound up being one of my stronger stories because of how all of that intertwined, which I appreciated given how down on myself I was following the whole writer's block thing.

But also.

Also.

Alexis gets to be horny. She's hitting on lonely MILFs and watching girls shake their asses to the tune of bad reality TV.

We love a buff dommy mommy farm girl in this house.

Haley is probably horny too, she just doesn't realize it yet. For now I think it's fun enough to play into her being coy about building excuses for Alexis to come over, and then getting incensed when Emily barges in on their private time meant to learn more about this farm girl she just can't get out of her head.

===

Fun fact:

Every story in this series is named after a Taylor Swift song, but I know next-to nothing about her discography. All of them are suggestions by my friend whose house I was at when starting this story — the same one who controls Gardenia on the farm.

While I went with "How You Get The Girl," her alternative suggestion was "The Man."

===

All that w|w talk aside, I also want to give Sam the loveable idiot a shoutout. Had to do a fair bit of research into how skateboards are constructed for his failed ollie, and I slipped in a reference to shitty old technology that's exclusively for my beta reader to enjoy.

I also tried doing some agricultural research to figure out how the folks at Kevin Farm could have grown cucumbers so there'd be a jar of legitimate pickles... But that was getting too in the weeds.

Insert laugh track here

Decided to just go with pickled artichoke hearts to save everyone a lot of trouble.

And where does "Kevin Farm" come from, you may be asking yourself. Or the fabulous "Kevin's Special" with its definitely not innuendo tagline.

That story will have to wait for another day, my friends.