#she's not super near the end but i just feel helpless

[scienceisfood]

[illubean]

Hi can I get a nsfw scenario where Chrollo gently seduces the reader during her first time and discovers she has a praise kink? I feel like this man would be literal god tier to have

Gentle Praise

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: NSFW, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, College!au because I'm a sucker for scholar Chrollo

mueheheh >:) reader is a lil shy and awko taco in this but not like cringe stereotypcial "omg im so shyy >.<" type also this ended up being super long thus turning a scenario into a full fic oopsies

Warnings: maybe ooc Chrollo idk, mentions of alcohol, he calls y/n princess a few times, praise (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), reader discretion is advised

Chrollo isn't quite sure how you ended up in a setting like this. You were a pretty little thing with a look so elegant you look almost out of place at one of Uvo's rowdy house parties.

The bright LEDs, loud music and cheap beers didn't seem like your kind of scene. But there was no way for Chrollo to know that for sure.

You stood off to the side near the snack table, slowly nursing your cup of jungle juice that you didn't care much for. You had only taken it from your friend since you felt rude to turn it down. Said friend of yours was currently having the time of their life. They were plastered, dancing through the crowd of bodies and mingling with other drunk partygoers.

You're not too sure why you even came to this party. You much preferred small gatherings, and you don't even like alcohol all that much. You sighed, awkwardly scanning the room until your eyes met a pair of onyx orbs. They belonged to a face you knew all too well.

Chrollo Lucilfer.

He was a year or so older than you, a psychology major. You've seen him around campus and even though he was well known for mostly good reasons, your friends still teased you for finding him attractive. Perhaps you had stared at him for a bit too long though, seeing as a smirk made its way onto his face as he got up to approach you.

You panicked a little, looking around awkwardly seeking a quick escape. You placed your cup down but before you could flee, a voice came from in front of you.

"Hey Y/n."

Oh my god he knows my name.

You managed to spit out a response, feeling your hands get clammy as you looked into his eyes. You were completely and utterly helpless. This man managed to reduce you to nothing but a nervous, sweaty mess simply by just existing. It was kind of pathetic.

But the man responsible didn't think so. Chrollo thought it was cute how awkward you got, not being able to hold eye contact and wiping your hands on your clothes. He was no fool, and he knew exactly what effect he had on you. As a matter of fact he had this effect on quite a few people, though none of them stood out to him like you did.

He would be lying if he said he'd never thought of you in a romantic setting before. You were a cute (your choice) major who he often seen walking around with Machi. From what he's seen, you're not so much of a partier and prefer to focus on your actual studies than crazy frat gatherings. Maybe your more mellow and reserved nature is what drew him towards you.

"I didn't peg you as the party type," he says, breaking you from your previous daze.

"Oh, I'm not. My friend over there dragged me here."

You pointed into the crowd towards said friend, who was currently standing on top of a coffee table, a bottle of some sort of strong liquor in hand as the people around them cheered them on.

Note to self: make sure they get home safe

Chrollo chuckled at the deadpan look on your face after you saw how drunk your friend really was.

"Seems like they're having fun. Why don't we sneak off somewhere more quiet?"

You felt the tip of your ears burn at his offer before quickly nodding as he led the way.

Leaving the loud, hot and crowded living room AND spending time alone with Chrollo? Score!

He took one of your hands into his own, placing the other on the small off your back, leading you past all of the other partygoers and up a flight of stairs. He led you into a rather plain room, shutting the door before letting go of your hand and flopping down to lay on the bed.

"Is it ok that we're in here?" you ask, not wanting to disrespect someone else's house.

"This is my friend Shalnark's room but he's rarely ever home. I crash here sometimes so I don't think he minds."

At his words you hesitantly and awkwardly sit on the corner of the bed, facing away from Chrollo. You had no clue what to do now. The both of you were silent for a while, the light thump of the distant music being the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

After a few moments pass, Chrollo sits up and moves closer to you, leaning in order to make eye contact.

"You don't have to be so awkward around me, y'know? I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

You look away in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from the man before you, who only chuckles and grabs both of your hands.

"You get flustered so easily, how adorable."

One of his hands reaches up to the side of your face to turn you towards him. His beautiful onyx orbs were glazed over in what you could only describe as a mix of admiration and lust.

Oh.

Chrollo began leaning closer, you doing the same. Naturally, your eyes started to close as the two of you got closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then he stopped.

You sat there in anticipation for a moment but nothing came. You opened your eyes and furrowed your brows in confusion, only to find Chrollo already staring back at you with a small smile on his face.

"Is this okay?"

You gave him a frantic nod, a quiet yet rushed 'yes' leaving your mouth. At the confirmation the man pressed a searing kiss into your lips, gently caressing the apple of your cheek as you reached your arms out to embrace him.

His touch was gentle, yet burning with the passion of a thousand suns as he led you to lay across the bed. His large hands slipped underneath your shirt, softly caressing your lower back and waist as he continued his assault on your mouth.

You whimper softly into the heated kiss, feeling your skin practically burn where his body came in contact with yours. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you breathless as he carefully removes both your shirt and bra.

Chrollo takes a moment to take in the sight of you, panting and topless beneath him. He swore he would brand this image into the back of his mind for the rest of his days, never wanting to forget how beautiful you were in this very moment.

"God, you're gorgeous."

His hands begin roaming your body once again as he planted searing, open mouth kisses along your neck and collarbone. You couldn't help but writhe under his touch, soft but needy noises leaving your lips. His words had an affect so strong on you that was unexpected.

Chrollo's hand trailed down the front of your body, slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. Two off his fingers gently prodded at your entrance, before trailing back up to swirl around your clit. You clenched your thighs with a gasp, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

"Who knew my pretty girl would be so sensitive," he coos. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

A violent shiver shot down your spine and into your core. God, if he kept talking like this you might just be able to cum from his words alone. You whimpered, arms tightening around him to pull him impossibly close. He chuckled sofly, planting a few kisses across your face before pulling away completely.

Before you could whine in protest, Chrollo pulled off the clothing left on your bottom half. He settled himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he faced your glistening heat. He looked up at your through his eyelashes before speaking again.

"You doing alright, princess?"

You nodded, face flushed at the nickname. But this didn't seem to be enough of a response for Chrollo.

"You're going to have to use your words, beautiful."

"Yes! God, yes just please...continue."

He chuckles at your desperation before licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy. This draws a trembled moan out of you, which only egged him on further. He buried his face impossibly deep into your cunt, going down on you like a man starved while you reached down to grip his hair. He eased two of his fingers into you as your body writhed with pleasure.

He pulls away from you momentarily, eyes flicking between the sight of his lithe fingers plunging into you and the flushed expression across your face. He felt your walls flutter around him which caused him to smirk up at you.

"You're getting close, aren't you? Go ahead, make a mess for me."

He dove back into your core, determined to make you cum. His lewd words sent you over the edge, having brought you to your first climax of the night. He sits up, making eye contact with you as he licks your juices off of his two digits.

He crawled back up the mattress so now you were both face to face, arms bracing himself on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to meet you in a heated kiss. You could care less that the taste of yourself lingered on his lips. All you could think about is how Chrollo is all yours right now.

After kissing you for a few moments longer, he pulls away from you to hastily remove his clothes. Your eyes followed his movements, starting at his toned chest and moving down his abs. There was a light happy trail that peeked out above the waist band of his boxers. Finally, he hooks his fingers beneath it and drags them down his hips and oh.

He was huge.

Your eyes widened as you took in all of Chrollo's naked glory, his pretty cock standing thick and girthy. His balls sat below it, heavy and full.

How the hell would that ever fit?

The man you had been gawking at chuckles before gently prodding your entrance with his fat tip.

"Don't worry, you can take it. I know you can."

Your heart pulsed at this, heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, embarassed.

"Nervous, sweetheart?"

He leaned down closer to you to plant a reassuring kiss on your cheek, trailing them down your neck and along your collarbone.

"...this is my first time," you admit bashfully, moaning at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"I'll just have to take extra care of you then."

He pushes himself into you, the plush walls of your heat stretching to wrap around him. He continues to kiss you through it as you pull your bodies impossibly close to each other. After sheathing himself completely into your pussy he begins to trust into you, slow and sensual.

He only picks up the pace after feeling your body relax, his thick shaft stretching you deliciously well and hitting all the right spots deep within you.

"God, you're perfect. It's like this pussy was made for me," he grunts, fucking himself into you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It didn't take long for Chrollo to reduce you to nothing but a moaning, babbling mess. Not only could he lay pipe like no one's business, but his praising words sent you to heights you didn't know you could ever possibly reach. You felt your eyes well up with tears as you felt your climax approach for the second time that night.

"Chrollo, 'm gonna-"

Your words were cut off with the sound of your own moan, feeling Chrollo's dick brush against your g-spot. Your pussy quivers and clenches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls away.

"Wait for me, sweetheart. Just a little longer, okay?"

You whine, digging your nails into his shoulder blades as he speeds up and fucks you with newfound vigor. You couldn't hold back any longer, a white hot flash hitting you like an ocean wave as you cried out Chrollo's name. The man cursed, feeling you clamp around him impossibly tight, bringing him to his climax as well.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, prompting him to burry himself deep in your womb. His cum floods your pussy, making you feel impossibly fullwhile you pant, coming down from your previous high. You let go of him, body going limp against the mattress, absolutely fucked out.

Chrollo pulls out slowly, watching his seed drip from your weeping cunt, breathing heavily at the sight of you. You press your hand against your bloated tummy, causing more of his cum to spill out of you. His cock twitches as this, and he wastes no time in mounting you again.

"I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous."

may or may not have gotten carried away with this OOPSIESSSS ;p

[lanabuckybarnes]

Always.

This is a sequel to Empty Words. I had someone ask for it and I was also thinking of writing one so here it is. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as the first part but I hope it’s up to your standards.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none?? If you see any plz lemme know and I’ll add them.

Words: 1.1k

EMPTY WORDS

-

"How long has it been?"

"70 years."

The words replayed in her head constantly. It had been a year since that day, since she’d woken from her Cryo-sleep. Steve sat by her side telling her it was no longer 1945 but much later, she shouldn’t even be alive.

Tony, Howard Stark's son, had been generous enough to offer her a place to stay at the compound. She had been fed by the girl, Wanda, every day and they gave her peace since she so desperately needed it.

She never got to grieve for Bucky, not long after Steve told her of his passing, she was captured. For some Hydra experiments, according to the guy who turned green.

She still had Bucky’s jacket. She’d woken up with it wrapped around her frame, and she refused to take it off. It was the only part of him she had left.

-

A knock sounded throughout the room. "It's me, I've got dinner," Steve spoke from the other end of the door, his voice slightly muffled by the thick wood.

"Come in." She spoke, her words monotone and quiet.

He set the tray of food down on the bed, pasta and sauce. Wanda’s favourite. He picked up on her gloom quite easily, it must have been a perk of the super soldier serum.

"Are you alright?" Steve questioned softly, a reassuring hand rubbing her shoulder clad in the dark military jacket. He watched as she picked at the food but never put any of it near her mouth.

He knew better than to push people to talk about their feelings, he hated it when people did it to him.

They had both bonded over Bucky. In the 40s, they never really got the chance— he was too busy being Captain America, and she was too busy saving people's lives away from the frontline. He had never really spoken to her, he knew a bit about her from his old friend’s stories but besides telling her about Buck he’d never really seen her himself. In the past year though, the two had become good friends.

"It's... our anniversary, today." Her voice was small, like the squeak of a mouse, almost as if speaking any louder would scare him away. Steve didn't know how to answer. He was an excellent soldier and had always been great with words, but even he became tongue-tied at the mention of Bucky.

He blamed himself, he could have done so much better than what he did. Countless nights he stayed awake wondering how he could have changed the past, how he could convince Tony to invent some contraption and put himself in Bucky's place. Maybe he would have survived the fall.

"I'm sorry," Steve's voice mimicked her own. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame in a warm embrace, the only form of comfort he could truly give her at that moment.

She cried into his arms that night. When he eventually left she’d flopped her weak body onto the large bed that was far too comfy. She tossed and turned with Bucky's coat, hoping, wishing that dreaming hard enough would bring him back.

-

The compound was under attack, she had strict orders to stay in her room. Steve had warned her, promised that he’d keep them away from her but passed her a pistol as a last resort.

She could hear the sounds of bullets flying around, hitting walls and people. She felt helpless just sitting on the wide windowsill watching the world go by, what could she truly do though?

Just as a dark feathered bird flew by her window the hairs on her neck stood on end— there were eyes on her, someone stood at her door. She mentally cursed herself for setting the gun on the bedside table.

The presence stalked forward, till his thigh bumped her shoulder. Her head tried to turn to him but the feeling of coolness; a metal hand, spread over the top of her head and turned her back to face the window slowly.

The cool fingers dropped to the side of her face, tucking a few loose stands behind her ear. Was he trying to torture her? or was she finally receiving a final act of kindness before the sweet release of death? Her eyes squeezed tight in preparation, no matter the outcome she would not watch.

Death never came, no, instead the soldier flopped his large body down beside her. He was still as rigid as before, she could feel as much from the way his arm brushed against hers.

When she finally turned to look at the face of the last man she’d ever see, her killer— the muscles around her eyes pulled them wide and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes, although obstructed by dark locks of her, emulated hers, shock evident in those deep blues along with the reflection of something she knew danced in hers— Recognition.

“B-Bucky?” She hadn’t realised tears were falling from her eyes until she spoke, her voice breaking. His head nodded softly, almost unnoticeable and his eyes glazed over as well. After all these years they were both alive, and the past 70 years' worth of bottled-up emotions bubbled over. She pulled him forward into her arms.

The way his tired body slumped forward into her frame told her he’d faced a similar story, he’d been holding onto a lot too. She could see Steve’s frame standing in her doorway in shock from her peripherals but she couldn’t find the will to glance at him. Not when he was here, not when Bucky was home.

“You came back” she whispered into his hair.

“Always”.

-

“Bahhhh!” God those goats were impatient. It must’ve been around 6 am, and the Wakandan heat blared through the mud-coloured walls.

“BAHHHH” the goat wailed again, more desperate and demanding than before. A groan sounded from the man behind her, his arm pulling her close and his lips ghosting over her bare shoulder.

“You gotta get up and feed them” she whispered silently hoping they’d disappear and leave them in each other’s arms, at least for a little bit longer. The heat made their embrace almost impossible to withstand but she’d missed years' worth of closeness to him, some sun wasn’t going to stop her now.

His grumbling vibrated against her neck before he pushed himself up to sit. He was quite the sight shirtless, much more muscular than before. The soft blue fabric wrapping around his left side and over his shoulder complimented his skin perfectly.

“Fucking goats” he complained as he threw the deep red fabric over his body, doing as much as he could with one arm before shifting to her for help.

Her fingers moved expertly over the fabric as they did every day, fastening it to his body before pulling half of his long hair into a bun.

“Love you” Her breath blew between his shoulder blades, her lips pressing into the nape of his neck as she wrapped the thin belt around his waist from behind— she’d become so familiar with the routine she could secure it with her eyes shut. He couldn’t help the way his worries fell apart at her soft touch.

His body twisted to face her naked one, his right hand finding her left, squeezing tight before dropping his fingers to roll the thin gold band around her ring finger; a symbol of his promise fulfilled. The matching one secured around his neck.

Steel blues ran up from their joined hand to her face, searching for her own eyes, asking in silence for permission that she was glad to give him as she leaned forward locking their lips together in a sultry dance that mimicked one of the many they shared all those years ago.

“Bahhhhh” he growled into the kiss and she couldn’t help the bubble of laughter rising from her throat. He’d never get a moment's peace with his girl with those beasts around.

-

Tags: @matchat3a

[charismabee]

what do you think the resulting chapter 2 would be like if you kill the princess without the knife? Like you just strangle her or snap her neck. Will she be small and scared? will she be bitter and mad?

Ooh, this is interesting. I think there are a few options, but two main one's I can come up with

Something like 'The Maiden' a delicate princess like the Damsel except in this route you're the monster, not the hero.

This would probably come about if you just attacked her out of the gate, killed her brutally but easily (like how one would get the spectre) and then find out about the narrators idea of a 'reward' and come to the conclusion you just slaughtered an innocent princess, not a world ending threat.

She'd probably be harmless a la the Damsel but without any of the blind devotion. Scared and Helpless and really hard to save because she doesn't want you near her. It isn't often you really have the upper hand against her, but here she's weak, and probably wouldn't be able to kill you unless you let her. A nice, sweet innocent princess scared of the horrible monster here to kill her. You'd try and make it up to her, wouldn't you?

She'd be very small and maybe fragile? Like she's made of glass. If you try and get her hand out of the cuff it just snaps right off. There might be a key to her cuff hidden somewhere in the room if you look hard enough. Her room could be claustrophobic, but with some little hidy holes that only she is small enough to crawl into,which she will if you frighten her (very very easy to do)

I think the routes ending would either be getting her out of there by regaining her trust, ending up trapped in the basement like in the Witch because you're a monster and you can't be trusted, or killing her again and getting some sort of chapter 3, maybe where she's hiding from you in a now very dark basement with an even smaller princess. If you did let her kill you she might trust you a little more, maybe an alternate route to the Thorn, or some weird Chapter 3 Damsel esq character.

The voice you'd get would probably feel really super bad about this whole thing. Maybe something like The Guilty or maybe The Naive (god I am bad at names, why am I giving them names) if you go down the 'we were too trusting of the Narrator' route. She would make for a gentle heart.

The other main option I have would be something like 'The Avenger'

This option would be if you scrapped with her. Maybe you spoke with her for a while before deciding to kill her, but instead of grabbing the knife you just go for the throat. She fights back, but you had the element of surprise (she was not expecting you to try to rip out her throat, you barbarian) and get her down. She probably gets in a few good hits, goes all Beast on you, maybe even gets you too, but she's dead now.

This stops you from thinking she's entirely helpless, she can hold her own, but she only went after you after you attacked her. She's not going to let you get her again, you beast. She's out to get revenge for what you did and she isn't going to be fooled by any of your pretty lies this time. She's hurt and angry and more than willing to kill you.

She's more human than most of the other actively out to kill you because honestly she's kind of right to. She's probably very ruffled, maybe with a bloodied bandage or something around her neck from where you tore it out, and a few bruises or self defence wounds. Her basement would be horrible, more like a torture chamber than a prison cell, maybe with a few weapons for the two of you to go at each other with if you can grab them (sword fight with a princess but it's a hacksaw against a giant pare of shears?).

You'd probably have to trick her into leaving the basement because she doesn't care about leaving in that moment she cares about getting you back. If you killed her again, you'd probably getting the Cold and a very gorey route where you get trapped in a cycle of killing her, and her, the Hero hates this please help him. Her killing you starts one of the cycles potentially. Whatever voice you have says that she doesn't do that. You're the one who hurts her, and kind of forces you into killing each other over and over in a decidedly less sexy and fun way than the Stubborn and Advesary. You're kind of the worst here, not gonna lie.

I think the Voice for the one would be something like the Domineering or the Sadist, playing into the fact you did that with your bare hands, you did not have to do that with your bare hands. You'd probably have to commit to doing it, too. If you let her kill you without killing her or if you ran to get the knife you would have gotten the Witch or the Beast.

Those are only a few ideas tho (:

[harri-etvane]

The Angst sentence starters.

Because I obviously like to torture myself with your brilliant Angst writing and hey, I haven't cried and screamed at things in a while :)

Volena (because why not break my heart)

"I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you."

(If this sparks no inspiration I will also be happy with "Please, speak to me.", "I am just so tired." or "You can't leave me alone.")

(And if you feel super inspired ... all four?!? 🥺👉👈)

(No pressure and no hurry though. I need time to emotionally prepare myself.)

Hey Jam! - thanks for sending these, they were a good exercise for me to stretch my angst muscles. I'm sorry they took so long!

I've written about 300 words for each of them, apart from "I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you." which didn't spark any inspiration in me at the moment. I'll keep it in my WIP doc of doom though, and if anything comes to mind; I'll post!

As there's nearly 900ish words, I'll pop them just below the cut. There's no over-arching narrative (or there could be if you squint at it really hard) and apologies - one of them ended up a bit similar to some bits and pieces I wrote for Early Though the Laurel Grows.

Anyway - I hope you like them; I'm excited to hear your thoughts! If you'd like a continuation of any of them, let me know! xxx

"Please, speak to me."

She's said it hundreds of times, or it feels that way at least, longing more than anything to hear the rough, gravelly cadence of his voice, feel the press of his hand against hers, the scratch of his beard against her cheek - even just the slow opening of his eyes, the familiar dark brown sparked with recognition, affection even.

She'd give anything for that sight - everything, even.

It comes out as a whisper this time, her voice hoarse.

“Please.”

Just the echoing silence instead - her own heartbeat thumping in her ears, so quiet she can almost hear the rush of blood through her veins. His breathing is slow and unsteady, every inhale leaving them both balanced on a precipice until the flimsy, weak exhale in response somehow manages to pull them both back from the edge, an awful, endless waltz. 

She takes his hand in both of hers and lifts it, pressing her lips to his knuckles; trying not to think of how cold his skin is, at odds with the thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the bright red of fever staining his cheeks. Olena shifts her grip a little, holding on as tightly as she dares, his fingers limp in her grasp and without thinking, her fingertips find the cool metal of his wedding ring for the security it has always represented. She realises it is loose suddenly, his fingers thin, and that alone feels like another wound.

His badly-won rest is not entirely peaceful, eyelids flickering; even in unconsciousness, dragged there forcibly by the pneumonia that stalks his weary bones, his face is hollow and wan, the frown on his forehead unmoving. The sickening lurch of helplessness slides into her gut and sits there like an unwelcome friend, an enemy - she cannot take the weight from him even now; so utterly drained and exhausted, unable to find peace.

Despite her pleas, he remains near silent save for every laboured breath, pulled away on a tide she has no hope of following - so she must stay on the shore and wait for him to return.

________

"I am just so tired." 

She’s never heard him sound like this before; flat, dull - listless. He sits beside her, the long shadows in the room throwing his face into darkness as the light changes. The afternoon sun is dreary and faded, dragging the colour from the room, from him. Olena feels, just for a moment, as though she has never been further away from her husband, despite being so close.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

She pulls him towards her until he rests against her side, the weight of him familiar but just this once, it doesn't bring the same ordinary comfort. The dull weight of concern sits firmly in her chest instead as she watches his gaze move back to his desk, to the phone, his laptop, the endless reams of paper, unable to let himself truly set it aside, even just for this moment. She can feel the shadow of his ribs, the knots of his spine beneath the thick, black sweatshirt, more prominent than they were before and the concern sharpens. Gently, she places a hand on his cheek, the grey of his beard soft beneath her fingertips.

“Love?”

He turns to look at her fully then as her hand drops to his chest, his heart fluttering unevenly beneath her palm. It seems to have happened very suddenly - almost without her noticing; he looks old.

“I- oh, Lena. I'm-”

For the first time in such a long while, he struggles for words.

In the end, his voice is quiet.

“I ache.”

She nods silently, suddenly unable to speak, confronted with the painful weight of it all; this shattering glimpse of something so very raw, an unhealed wound that has nestled into the very heart of him. 

“I know.”

________

"You can't leave me alone."

The accusatory plea comes choked through a sob, ripped out of the deepest part of her, laid entirely bare here, in this one, lonely room. She tips her gaze to the ceiling - the ornate plasterwork, the gold - all of it blurred.

“You can't. You promised. You promised me the Carpathian mountains. You said–”

He'd said so many things, over the years, conjured so many ideas of what their life would look like afterward - hoped for something quiet and slow. He'd done it to comfort her, and often, himself - desperate to hold on to a future beyond the pain, beyond just living for each day, grateful for every sunrise and sunset. He'd murmured about their future during slow lunches over his desk and snatched seconds together, tentatively sketching it in broad strokes; fishing, walking, talking - space just to be. He'd talked about growing a garden, watching the seasons change and blossom with the sunlight, planting trees - cultivating something just for the beauty of it. She had listened to his plans, her hand in his and smiled - at his optimism, his determination, the knowledge that he would be by her side, through all things. She knew then that whatever happened, so long as he was with her - everything would be fine.

There had never been any question of them being apart.

Her solitude is shattered by the door swinging open, bringing with it a deeper silence, the familiar tread of combat boots and then a pause. She knows who it is without turning around. She knows why he is here. She feels Maksym behind her, his hand on her shoulder for the briefest moment. If she doesn't turn around, if she doesn't take another step; her world will not change - she will not have to go on, alone.

“Not yet. Maks. Not yet. Just, a little longer.”

“Olena Volodymyrivna.. I'm so sorry. It's time..”

[radnewspaperroom]

I was washing dishes and had a thought.

Spoilers past here if you haven't completed the story, so I'm only warning you once!

A lot of exchange Students who use Twitter are worried that the OG Obey Me game isn't going to be getting as much love once Nightbringer comes around.

After 3 or 4 years, you don't get any more birthday or anniversary calls, and we've been at Lesson 80 for darn near almost a year

They also had a line in the newspaper picture about making OM! Nightbringer even bigger and better than the OG, but that it's not stopping (I also noted that they didn't say the story would continue, just that it wasn't going anywhere. Their other apps didn't for a really long time)

What if they're gonna retcon everything in the OG?

The OM devs aren't shy about slyly retconning stuff to make the story work. Lucifer and Michael have changed what angels they are, Simeon has as well, and before the story was that when the boys fell--they met Diavolo's father. He gauged their power, gave them their order and titles.

Yet now, their sins have always been a part of them, but heavily suppressed in their angel days, and the devil king was already asleep underground when they came. According to Nightbringer, RAD didn't exist before the boys fell. But according to the Glory Days card for Lucifer, it did, and he went there on a tour once.

I suppose it could be explained away in, he didn't want to change out of his angel garb because he still considered himself an angel after the fall, being in denial, but then again, in the Lilith flashback he was aware and sad about it.

ANYWAY!

It really wouldn't surprise me if they decided to change MORE in Nightbringer to help the story fit. Or explained the changes that subtly happened like that in the OG was due to the events in Nightbringer.

What if they update from 81-90 or 100 and the last lesson is what sends MC to the past and erases their memory? Lesson 80 ends with MC talking to Solomon and him telling them to tell everyone hi for him before they zip back to the Devildom at will, having mastered teleport magic.

It sorta feels like a "and on and on it goes until the end of time" ending that some anime and manga take, leaving it up to interpretation, or it feels the start of a new season.

80-100 could be the events that lead up to MC meeting the mysterious figure that we see in some of the ads holding the clock. It'll also give us time to romance/get to know the new side characters: Mephistopheles, Raphel and Thirteen before the end.

I could easily see lesson 100 ending with "the story continues? In Obey Me! Nightbringer!"

Then we pick back up in OM! Nightbringer as both a sequel and a prequel and it totally changes everything?

A way to experience that first time feeling, but with characters we know and love because our interfering messes with the ending.

Kinda weird though, as OM was the first SWD game that broke away from their typical set up to Otome games.

I said before but I've played a LOT of Solmare games, and they usually went like this: a nondescript-ish (usually a thin, light skinned, brown haired) female would be thrown into a new situation, be helpless and depend on 1 of X amount of guys to defend her.

Depending on her choice, she could get a good, neutral or bad ending to THAT person's story. And each boys involvement with the story changed the ending of the overall tale. No ending was just a like.

I wonder if they're going back to that old model, in that we'll pair off with a boy and go down his route and experience the story in different ways, and getting different endings.

Plus it'll really feel weird with the rhythm gaming aspect, as far as I know, it's a first for Solmare. The rest of the games depended on chance, buying items and leveling up a doll version of your girl.

It used to really annoy me, because you'd need something like gems to get an ultra romantic version of a section of story disguised as a "choice". In it, you'd get super romantic lines and a beautiful picture to go with it, but without outright buying the needed gems or whatever they wanted, you had a snowballs chance in hell of seeing it.

Really really really really hope they don't go back to that

[rnisa]

You can take your time to answer this ask or even delete it if it's too much, but how would a whole genderbent deathnote be?

Hi dear, I love this thank you. More women the better if you ask my gay ass. It's a broad ask so I'm just word vomiting whatever comes to mind but feel free to ask specifics if you want. It's a bit hard as honestly to me mostly everything would stay the same.

Well for starters? The obvious that people don't want to admit: Male Misa would have a LOT of simps. Yes I can elaborate if asked... Aside from that I do think male Misa would still be a model of course, and just at bat shit. In addition to the Death Note I feel a male Misa would be more willing to actually physically get his hands dirty too, at Lights request of course. Like physically covered in blood.

Fem Light? Master manipulator. Even moreso. I mean, Light already is, but fem!Light would be a bit more terrifying I think? If you've ever seen the old movie "Cruel Intentions" just picture the brunette girl as Light and...yeah that's it. Basically the same things Light already does but would have an added bonus of pretending to be helpless/lesser when around sexist men, and use how they view her (as "weak") to her own advantage. Would 100% have mastered the art of fake crying. That's the kind of manipulation that is uncommon for guys so a fem!Light would entirely use that when she could.

Would be a lot closer to Takada I think and never really lose that contact. Why, eh, I unno just because.

Soichiro would be a MILF.

L would have big boobs, idk why, I feel L just exudes big boob energy. When L first shows up to To-oh university, I feel she'd draw lots of attention from everyone (not JUST for the boobs...but that does play a part)

The tennis scene would be a lot more fun because at least Lights outfit would be super cute in my head aha.

Near, nothing would change much I don't think. We never get to see Near's full toy collection but I'm sure he has everything so this isn't really gender specific, they're just toys, but I'm going to use any excuse to give more Near hcs haha. Near would have a substantial beanie baby collection and designate Rester and Lidner to fight for hours on eBay trying to outbid others (and Mello having some low level grunts being the one to purchase said beanie babies, out of spite).

Instead of being male Misa's manager, Matsuda would end up getting offered/recruited to be a model herself and almost takes it, but remembers oh yeah, they have like a mass murderer to catch and all.

[esta-elavaris]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I've been reading Catch the Wind and it is so good??? Definitely one of my favourite stories in quite a while! The characters are so well written and I absolutely love Theo! She is a great mix of how I am and what I would like to be and so relatable! I have lost many hours of sleep to that story and now that I am nearing the end I begin to hold off from reading more because I don't want it to end. But also I need to know how it ends. I am so happy to see that you still write something for them!! I have become very careful with the modern girl trope because it often falls flat, is unbelievable in how it's written and usually contains some of the worst cases of Mary Sue but you pulled it off brilliantly! The trope I mean. IT'S SO GOOD! I love how we got to see how their relationship grew and it's not just a "the tone got friendlier from then on". You SHOW IT and it's SO SOFT and I want to gently hold them and also they're a power couple. I love them I love your story and I wish you a great day!

Oh also Groves is a great character. I enjoy reading about him very much! I also really like Hattie! I sure hope these two characters get out of all this mess...

Thank you so much!! I feel like I always say this, but I went into CTW thinking there was no way I'd be able to pull it off and barely anybody would read it, so how things actually shook out and the way it ended up being the story I'm proudest of so far gives it extra sort of meaning to me? I'm always stoked when people still read and enjoy it because I was super sad at the idea of it just sort of fading away from anybody's notice one it was finished 🥲💜

So glad that Theo managed to make it into the hall of fame for tolerable modern girls ahaha - it's definitely a tricky thing to get right in terms of not being perfect and instantly good at everything, while also not being completely helpless and devoid of any agency. I can't even take credit for her chemistry with James, though, they just behave that way whenever I put them on a page together. I take denial of canon to dizzying new heights uwu

Thank you again for this insanely kind ask! I hope you enjoy what you have left of the story as much as you enjoyed what came before it! I know what you mean, though, I was absolutely devastated to have finished it - usually with fics I'm ready for them to be done by the time I reach the end, but despite the insane length of that one I was really sad to see it finished. As evidenced by the sheer scale of BS I still write for those two 💀

[mysterydungecn]

PMD Protags, Partners, and their Greatest Fears

Warning: Contains spoilers for every PMD game besides Adventure Squad under the cut!

The PMD protag teams have gone through a lot of trauma, so I decided to write what my headcanons for their greatest fears are after the events of the games.

Lidequir (Rescue Team protag) - Legendaries

Every legend she met on her journey had tried to kill her. Zapdos, Moltres, Articuno, Groudon, Rayquaza...even before, in her past life, the fight against Origin Dialga was a battle to the death on her side. These powerful Pokemon have done nothing but harm her, and honestly, she’d be happy never meeting one again, even if Virizion and Keldeo are nice.

Acacia (Rescue Team partner) - Stronger People

Chased to the ends of the continent by the rescue team he used to look up to, the strongest rescue team on the continent, Acacia now feels terrified of strong people he isn’t already close to. If he starts losing in a battle, even a friendly one, he’s going to start feeling scared for his well-being. What if they turn against him, like Team ACT did?

Apoyime (Explorers protag) - Dark Skies

The future of darkness was a terrible place, where the skies were always dark, and there’s little light to be found. As a grass-type who relied on light, that was already terrifying enough, but the terrors he faced there, not knowing who he could trust, not knowing if he’d ever see the sun again, it stuck with him. Every time the sun dips below the horizon, and the skies grow dark, it reminds him of that terrible, terrible place.

Pahelia (Explorers partner) - Betrayal

She looked up to The Great Dusknoir, she really, really did. He was so kind and caring, and he seemed like such a great person...only to kidnap her and Apoyime, and attempt to kill them. What if other people she trusted did the same? Chatot? Wigglytuff? Apoyime?

Gen (Dewott) (Gates protag) - Ice

Almost all of his most terrifying memories involve ice. Everything that happened during the second visit of the Glacier Palace, so hard to breathe with the sheer negativity of the place, even with his human soul. To say nothing of his encounter with Kyurem out in the desert, watching Hydreigon be shattered right in front of his eyes, and then himself subsequently being beaten to near death by the empty dragon of ice. Winter would never be the same for him again.

Vernir (Gates partner) - Helplessness

He couldn’t do anything. Kyurem was killing his best friend, and he couldn’t do anything. He could only plead for the dragon to stop, plead with all his heart. And then he couldn’t do anything again, in the Bittercold’s realm, he made it so far, but it was too much, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t help Gen, just like back in the desert. Why couldn’t he help?

Apoyime (Super protag) - Father Figures

The first friendly face he met in this world, who took him in, and gave him a home, who helped guide him...and who stabbed him in the back. Anyone trying to be a dad to Ayueg is going to earn his ire, while he feels terrified at the back of his mind. Never again.

Leviene (Super partner) - Being Too Late

They spent too long in the Voidlands. Their village, and everyone in it, turned to stone. Even their pops. They were too late. It was their fault. They weren’t fast enough. If they were too late again, for other people they care about...they didn’t want to think about that.

[stark-at-heart]

Untitled, a Love Story

Part Three

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

      But O heart! heart! heart!

            O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

                        Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

      Here captain! dear father!

            This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

                        You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

      Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

            But I, with mournful tread,

                  Walk the deck my captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

- O Captain! My Captain! By Walt Whitman

February, 1990

It was the end of Tony’s reading week. She had spent the entire time entombed in the workshop, working furiously on her nanotech project. She had indeed had a breakthrough, one that she was pretty certain was going to lead to all kinds of new possibilities that she was now just itching to play with—but, even geniuses needed to take a break sometimes, and after a coffee-fueled week in the basement living on a total of about four hours of sleep every two days, Tony Stark was ready to take a breather.

Of course, she was taking that breather at 3am on a Saturday, drinking yet more coffee because that was what brought her joy in life, but to each their own. She sat in the kitchen, at the little family table that was there ostensibly for Jarvis, Ana, and other ‘servants’ but which Tony preferred entirely over the much larger one in the dining hall. Eventually Tony figured she would relocate to her room and play Galaga on her Atari until the sun came up before inevitably conking out for three more hours, but those plans got derailed when buff, blonde, and baffled wandered into the kitchen making a bee line for the water glasses and looking about as sleep deprived as Tony actually was.

“Hey,” Tony said, although she didn’t know why she’d bothered. He hadn’t noticed her, and if that trend continued she could have easily slipped out without having to make small talk at three in the morning. But something had compelled her to speak. Maybe it was how out of place ‘tired’ looked on an actual super human. Maybe it was just how far away his gaze was even as he filled up his water glass. Or maybe it was the fact that he went for the water automatically, mechanically, like he’d done this dozens upon dozens of times before, despite having only been in this house—and this time period—for a couple of weeks. Hell, Tony didn’t know. But she knew as soon as the super soldier turned that haunted, sunken gaze to her that she couldn’t leave him alone until that eased up, at least.

“Oh,” he said, the tired gaze taking on some degree of startled. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“Well, you know,” Tony said, “someone exposed me to water and fed me after midnight, so here I am, causing trouble. Drinking all the coffee.” At the Captain’s blank look she recalled that there was no way in hell he knew what a Gremlin was and her usual brand of humor was rendered nearly useless, which was a crime. “Never mind, Capsicle. You couldn’t sleep?”

The Captain still stood at the sink. His water glass was full, and he hadn’t drunk any of it. He shrugged at her and this somehow looked helpless. Tony wasn’t sure how that was possible, given that he was, again, a literal superhuman, but it did.

“I don’t need much sleep, anymore,” he said. “Besides—I slept for forty-five years. I think I’m good on sleep, for now.”

Now, Tony was the queen of avoiding subjects and questions. She was a master evader. She had won awards in the art of misdirecting and distracting until whatever godawful paparazzi or so called journalist forgot entirely what they had been asking her about. So she knew a brush off when she heard one. He definitely couldn’t sleep.

Well he did just come back from a war. And also death, Tony thought to herself. It wasn’t her problem. It wasn’t her problem! This was one hundred percent her father’s mess. If he was going to go around resurrecting his old war buddies, then he should be the one to have to figure out how to help them live with all the shit they were faced with as consequence.

But, here was the thing. It was three in the morning on a Saturday. Her father was probably passed out drunk somewhere. At the very least, he was not in the kitchen with the clearly distraught, newly resurrected super soldier, which meant that he was in no position to help.

It really wasn’t Tony’s problem, but…

“IHOP,” she said, standing up abruptly. The super soldier blinked at her slowly.

“I… what?”

“IHOP. It’s an acronym. International House of Pancakes. What the hell about it is supposedly international, I have no fucking idea so don’t ask me. What I do know, however, is that IHOP is open even at three in the morning. They have terrible coffee and middling pancakes and we should absolutely go get some of both,” Tony declared.

“We… should?” the Captain asked, clearly not quite catching up to the program.

“Yep,” was all she said. “Follow me, your carriage awaits.”

She half expected him to stay where he was as she walked out of the kitchen, but in two strides he was just a half step behind her, peering at her curiously. Tony pretended not to notice as she led him out to the garage.

“What do you think, the Ferrari? I like the Ferrari,” Tony said absently, looking out at the six cars in the garage. She glanced at the Captain, but he looked vaguely stunned and Tony wondered if he hadn’t been in the garage at all in the three weeks since he’d been there. That seemed a shame to her, because even in her vague recollections of her father’s many stories about Captain America, it came across that he was a fan of motorcycles. They didn’t have any bikes at the moment, but that could be arranged; and in the mean time, a man who appreciated a good bike was likely also a man who would appreciate the assortment of luxury and classic cars her father kept.

Not your problem, Tony. Mentally shaking herself, she went for the driver’s seat of the red Ferrari. It was so flashy it was nearly gaudy, and she hopped right in and stared at the Captain with a raised eyebrow until he joined her.

“Hold onto your hat,” Tony said. “Or your cowl. Whatever.” And she tore out of that garage with all the enthusiasm a Ferrari warranted. 

The nearest IHOP on Long Island was not an exciting enough locale to take a Ferrari, really, but Tony pulled into the parking lot and flung open her door like she was royalty. She waited for the Captain to very carefully leave the car and very gently shut the door. She slammed her side and marched into the place, commandeering a booth for the two of them as the Captain followed her, clearly no less baffled. When the waitress came over Tony just took out two hundred dollar bills and handed them to her.

“One of all the pancakes that seem vaguely dessert-y, an entire pot of coffee with two mugs, and anything else he wants,” Tony told her. She looked at the overwhelmed Captain. “It’s a breakfast place. What do you like for breakfast? Eggs? Sausage? Bacon? Your metabolism has to be insane.”

“Um,” the Captain said, and Tony just looked back at the waiter.

“One of all those, too. Extra eggs. Like, enough eggs to feed this man. Whatever you think would work. He looks like a body builder right? So just base it off that,” Tony instructed. The waitress, who was probably Tony’s age, seemed just as dumbfounded as the Captain, but she took the bills and nodded, then scurried back towards the kitchen. She was prompt with the coffee, which Tony appreciated as she proceeded to guzzle her first entire mug before the Captain had even thought to pour his out. She poured a mug for him and then her second. She shoved it towards him.

“It’ll warm you up,” she told him, because his alternating lost and baffled expressions were really getting to her. Fortunately, this seemed to be just the right thing to say. He took the mug and took a sip. He frowned. “What?”

“Pretty sure I’ve had better coffee on the front lines,” he drawled. She stared at him. He stared back.

“Oh my god did you actually crack a joke?” she asked. “You must be exhausted. Jesus. So, how long have you gone without sleep, O Captain, my Captain?” He raised a single eyebrow at her and sipped his coffee.

“You know,” he said slowly, “the Captain’s dead, right?”

“What?” Tony felt a sudden stab of icy panic, because she was not ready to deal with some full on super soldier identity crisis or something here in the IHOP at three-thirty in the morning, she was absolutely not equipped—

“The poem. O Captain! My Captain! The Captain is dead,” the Captain said, and suddenly Tony’s world righted itself and she had no need to spiral into a panic anymore, which was fortunate because that would have really thrown a wrench in her morning.

“You know Walt Whitman?” Tony asked as the waitress returned, bringing maybe half of their order and putting it all over the table in a haphazard sort of fashion that Tony appreciated. She grabbed the nearest stack of pancakes—New York Cheesecake pancakes, she was pretty sure after a bite. She’d been referencing Dead Poets Society, which had been a hit last summer, but of course she knew the poem, too. She was just surprised he did. The Captain gave her a look that clearly said he was judging her hard. “What?”

“Of course I know Walt Whitman,” he said.

“Huh. I just figured, I dunno, you were like dirt poor and living in Brooklyn in the twenties and thirties—sounded like a recipe for ‘dropped out in the eighth grade’ to me, never mind all the uh, ailments?”

Ok, yeah the Captain was definitely judging her hard. But he was also reaching for the blueberry pancakes, so he probably wasn’t pissed off, at least.

“My mother was a nurse. Education was important. I graduated high school. Even went to Auburndale for a year after, but I couldn’t afford tuition for the full program,” he explained. He sounded a little wistful, almost. Or maybe Tony was reading too much into it. “Still, I learned enough to get jobs drawing illustrations, posters, all that. I got a job with Timely right before the war—they did all the Captain America comics after I enlisted. That was a little surreal, I won’t lie.”

“I would think your entire life from the point you enlisted was surreal,” Tony said. “I mean, like, if Dad’s stories are real then… they turned you into a superhuman and then you went to fight like, crazy super-evil super-nazis who had way advanced weapons powered by some ancient Norse energy source? And now you’ve been like, raised from the dead so there’s that.”

“Yeah,” the Captain said, then got all quiet again, staring at the sausages before him. Aw fuck. She’d fucked it up again. She was good at that.

“So—art school. You want to go back?” Tony asked. The Captain blinked, a few times, as though this was a brand new consideration for him. Hell, maybe it was. What did Tony know.

“I—have no idea,” he said. “I don’t… I figure, the military will probably want me… doing military things.”

“Do you want to do military things?” Tony asked, even though it was none of her business and definitely not her problem. Her whole brain was screaming at her to just finish up the damn pancakes, pack like twenty doggy bags, take them back to the manor and leave the dinosaur to his own devices. But there was the tiniest, most stubborn part of her, that would not listen to the reasonable rest of her brain. “Because when you were in it, I mean, you were fighting Nazis. Maybe it wasn’t at the time but that seems like, the most black and white good guys versus bad guys fight ever. But the military now is like, shady as fuck. You should probably know that before you sign your life away—again.” The Captain stared at her for a long moment, and for a second Tony wondered if he was all there or if he was off having flashbacks or something but finally he said,

“Stark Industries is mainly a weapons contractor with the US military. And you—weren’t you just working on a contract yourself? ‘Nanotech’, you said?” Tony stabbed her pancakes and shrugged.

“I’m a Stark, we operate in the morally gray. Military funding gets shit done. Profits made from those projects help with other ones. Nanotech has about a quadrillion other applications that aren’t military. Besides, I’m just a division of R&D for SI. SI gets the contracts, I figure out some solution. I don’t pick the contracts,” Tony said. If some of the projects she’d worked on made her feel vaguely uncomfortable, well, what the hell did it really matter. Her duty was to SI, at the end of the day. She quashed her feelings on the subject all the time. Feelings were a weakness when it came to business. The Captain frowned at her, deeply, looking both contemplative and disapproving, but Tony figured that was going to be par for the course for a lot of their interactions and elected to ignore it. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He shook his head once, and asked,

“You think… they’ll just let me go?”

“Fuck, Capsicle, you died in service. Pretty sure whatever contract you had with the military is like, way expired,” Tony said with an arched eyebrow. She drained her second mug of coffee. “And like. Yeah the military is shady but they’re not about to enslave you. And Dad would throw an entire army of lawyers at them if they tried to just like, redact you as a human.”

The Captain was quiet for a long moment. Tony finished off her New York cheesecake pancakes and moved over to the ones that were clearly chocolate chip.

“Steve,” he said softly.

“Huh?”

“Steve. My name is Steve, not Captain or Capsicle or any of that,” he said. “You can use my name.”

It wasn’t like the typical friendly, ‘Call me Steve’ that someone might pull out after being called Mr. So and So one too many times. It wasn’t an invitation, Tony knew that. It was a plea. And Tony, well, she was selfish, sure, a smartass, always, and bitchy, of course. But never cruel. And she got the impression in that moment that it would be cruel, for some reason, not to use his name.

“All right,” she said lightly, “Steve. Fair enough, I did ban you from calling me ma’am. What about your full name? Steven? Anybody call you that ever? Oh that’s a face, all right, ixnay on the Steven-ay. Well, I should probably warn you then also that my full name is off limits.”

“What is your full name? Antonia?” Steve guessed. Tony grimaced.

“Do you think my mother has no taste? God, no. Antonella. And if you ever use it I’ll—”

“Kick me in the balls?” Steve asked, and there was the tiniest, most hesitant of smiles on his face, and for a second that stole Tony’s breath away, that little smile all focused on her.

Oh, fuck. 

“Remove them wholesale,” Tony corrected him. “Punishment has to match the crime, see.” The Cap—Steve chuckled.

“Noted,” he said.

Not your problem. Not your problem. Not your problem, Tony chanted to herself over and over again as their conversation continued to be pleasant and about nothing in particular. Not only was he not her problem, really, he was someone she ought to actively avoid. Nothing good ever came of interacting with her dad’s projects, or her dad’s past. But there were moments, when he smiled, that Tony knew she would abandon all reason to make him smile again.

And whether or not she was ready to admit it to herself, many years later at least Tony could acknowledge that it was during that pancake breakfast that she was well and truly fucked.

[voskhozhdeniye]

Hm, thinking about that Fuck Buttons show has me thinking about other shows.

How about we talk about my first Swans show...

I was terrified to see them. At the time, I was on a NIN fan forum. Everyone who had went to see them talked about just how loud they were. I had constant ear infections as a child, so I have hearing problems. I was told to bring earplugs. The week before was that GY!BE show that my back fucked up before the opener finished. I was more afraid of my back fucking up than my hearing after that.

(Before I started typing this I searched the blog to see if I've written this before. Nothing came up, but I remember telling this part of the story on here before, maybe in a tag.)

I do not drive in the city often, and at that point in time I hadn't learned my way around yet. I didn't start that until the next year. My sister drove me up, we ate at a trendy hipster burger spot in a super gentrified area of the city. The burger spot was gone within a year or so.

At the restaurant, there was this LOUD group of, I was going to say 20somethings, but I was too at the time so.... My sister went and did her thing. The group followed me to the show.

Where they were loud as shit also. A Hawk and a Hacksaw opened, I don't remember much of their set. I thought it was interesting and said I'd check them out further, but never have.

In between sets, I put the ear plugs in.

This was the tour for The Seer, but the set was already To Be Kind heavy.

About halfway through To Be Kind I realized oh, this is going to build until it explodes. That first blast felt like a brick to the face. In a curiosity tempting the cat moment, I took the earplugs out. I never put them back in. Swans are loud, but it's the physical force of it.

The first half of the live version of Avatar is completely different. The ending is like what's on the album but is extended with heavy percussion. At the end, when they hit that outro, it felt like someone threw hot water on me. I cannot stress how much you physically feel it. I checked out mentally after that. I have no memory of She Loves Us at all. Which is wild, because I love the live version and hate the studio recording.

I barely remember Coward. I was deeply in love with that song at the time.......and was glad that was the lone older song that got a place in the set. I think after that tour anything before The Seer was dropped.

.......They did Helpless Child on the tour before and I didn't go because I wasn't really into them like that. Pray for me, I'm going to look up what that tour's DC show set was....Beautiful Child but no Helpless Child.

I vaguely remember The Seer. I don't remember if it was that The Seer/Bring The Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture version like what's on Not Here/Not Now. If it was, that's why I don't remember. That shit is amazing.

I don't remember Nathalie Neal at all.

The Apostate I remember. Before they started, Gira proposed everyone take off their cloths and dance.

As the show went on, the people who rushed to be near the front of the stage slowly moved back away from the stage, leaving no one front and center. I mean an entire large circle of empty space in front of Gira.

So I went up there and stared into Norm Westberg's soul. He attempted to do the same to me, but I was not in my right mind, and he had to look away.

That group of friends attempted to talk during the set. They quickly realized that wasn't happening. I think they left.

My first two Swans shows were at the Black Cat. Their main stage is on a second floor. There's a bar, a games room and a smaller second stage downstairs. I saw Dawn of Midi downstairs.

Because you're not on a ground floor, you feel every vibration. I have fibromyalgia, leaving out of those shows felt like I had gotten a full body massage.

Since this is just going on and on....

I talked about Gira and the rape allegation in my end of year list the year that happened, 2016 I think. I believe I said I was disappointed but not surprised, and pointed to the abuse you hear him putting Jarboe through on You See Through Me. I always say about that song that while I appreciate the honesty, goddamn you.

I deleted all of Kanye's music off my hard drives last year. A few of the CDs are still here somewhere, but I'd have to dig to find them. 20 years ago he was the most important musician in my life. Him and Lupe were rappers who looked like me and shared common interests. Kanye was out here sampling Aphex and Can HELLO! That was really important at a time when I needed it.

Today is Michael Brown's birthday. Before Ferguson, I was going down a similar path of anti-blackness as Kanye. I don't know what it is for him, but for myself. To be the Black kid who gets othered by other Black kids means you'll go looking for friends anywhere. Even the white kids who call themselves your friend, but treat you like shit. Anything is better than being alone. After years of that you hate yourself, everyone treats you like you're inferior. All the hardships of being Black in America, but not considered Black enough for your peers. You realize the common denominator is your your skin color, so what do you attack? My sister is 51, when she was in high school, she had a classmate who tried to bleach his skin with household bleach. He gave himself chemical burns.

Autumn 2014 almost killed me. The week before Michael's death, a family member who I worked with died. Our working together made him the closest family member I had. Then the Ferguson protests sparked up. Then a lot of white people started explaining to me what is and isn't racism. The same way a lot of people nowadays are explaining to me what is and isn't genocide. I realized that a lot of the white people I was devaluing myself for didn't even see me as human.

I almost killed myself that autumn. I deleted the old blog and everything. I decided. I had my plan and everything. In the week leading up, I started to get sick. I lost 10 pounds in 6 days. The cognitive dissonance that people are going through right now with Gaza I was going through in 2014.

Ferguson killed that anti-blackness path quickly. The emotions from the neglect from that time in my life will always be here. In fact, it pops up in new and interesting ways every year. But the anti-blackness path it was leading me down revealed the dead-end. I hate that Michael Brown's death is what introduced me to what structural racism is. Just like how Gaza is illuminating colonialism for me. In both cases I knew beforehand, but seeing just how interconnected they are to what's considered normalcy is.........................

I say all of this so I can circle back around.

For almost a decade now, I have been trying to distance myself from Gira and his music. While I have succeeded to a degree, I've had major upheaval in my taste of music within the last three years. Gira's art is still important to me.

Sometimes I wonder what that says about me.

I never listened to last year's album. Covid might stop me from ever going to any show ever again.

Have A Nice Life are coming in July.

I'd like to shake Dan's hand and tell him thank you for giving me the courage to buy a synth. I doubt I'll go.

[misqnon]

its march :3 (side note i think its funny that i chose march .. as a name.. to call myself. because i just like the name (and secretly i was thinking of the character from to you, my immortal/to your eternity) but it.. it was just march. march just ended. i only realized this connection yesterday.)

you would be CORRECT..!! see its Obvious. i think i would be way more embarrassed to pretend like ur wrong or gloss over ur guess bc thats ... .. the 2nd one just proves u right and the first one... is... is humiliating .... i will not go off anon tho this is comfy for me <3 (another side note. 20 minutes after giving myself a name . for ease. i was so embarrassed and ashamed LOL. like wow... i named myself when its already so obvious who i am....)

im really not much of a shipper tbh, especially with the straw hats cuz i love to see them as having familial relationships or just being real close friends but!!! one piece has definitely awakened something in me.. to ship characters. bc before i would never ship characters in media. i have.. various reasons for this. but the one piece fandom is so into shipping it has rubbed off on me a bit. i cant help it. i love hannyabul x magellan.

zoro is the perfect mix of cool and goofy, its so wonderful!!! using 3 swords is like the silliest thing in theory and then he busts out the most awesome moves with it and its like wow .. look at him. i cant imagine being zoro levels of bad at directions tho that is... impressive... /lh. DO PEOPLE CHOOSE LEAST FAVORITE STRAW HATS??? HOW DO THEY DO THAT .. tbh i dont consider people old til theyre in like their 50's or 60's (partly bc my parents are nearing their mid 60's and i see them as eternally youthful) but i feel like old man yaoi can include middle aged men!??? also tbh rayleigh (when hes old man-ified...) is really hot.. like young rayleigh is fine but old man rayleigh??? wow....

GOOD THING UR IN WHOLE CAKE ISLAND ARC SO U GET TO SEE KATAKURI SOON!!! cuz omg.... he is so lovely. he deserves so much love. crocodile is so popular!! i get the hype n i used to love him like that too.. but my interest has faded.. 😔 i do love the trans man croc and crocodad theories tho theyre so fun even if theyre not true. i love to imagine dragon (oh my god imagine dragons ...) as a guy whos still in love with his ex. i think that would be so silly .. and if his ex was croc??? that would be even sillier ... theyre perfect.

don't worry i have the sanji tiktoks saved for the day i work up courage 🫡!! pls DO send me more op stuff i love it !!!!

YES YES YES YES THATS THE WXACT VIDEO I WATCHED AHIFHSDJD!!! i was rly converted into a dub liker by That Alone!!!!

im real picky about voice acting tbh and japanese just makes it easier for me to like bc they have way cooler sounding voices. that "luffy... help me" scene with nami in arlong park will forever sound better to me in the sub rather than the dub . the voice crack!!! the helplessness!!! the way she squeaked it out, like it was the most painful thing to ask for help!!! ugh... big fan. i looked it up just now to rewatch and yeah i cried a bit 😎. also i just noticed her tears are rolling down her neck that is so real. anyways back to luffy,, yeah his voice acting makes him sound kinda more like... mature?? perhaps?? and he is a guy with endless youth and childish energy.. i dont like a luffy that sounds like. a teenager ... ofc i say all this having never watched a full episode of the dub so i could be super off LOL

the live action seems to play nami and zoro as much bigger grumps and ive heard zoro doesnt joke around much and im.... honestly rly worried to watch and be disappointed by that. although tbh nami not being super goofy makes sense to me .. zoro... my beloved zoro.. mackenyu (?) is a perfect zoro in terms of looks so i just hope i love his characterization of him too!!

i watched the april fools video!!!! i recognize that blob but idr the comic name.. very silly though i loved it. i guess i will have to do some pirating.. yarr mateys.

i can sit and watch shortform content for like 6 hours straight but as soon as i feel like i have to pay attention because im afraid of missing any context. suddenly my brain is out the window. i cant handle it anymore. ALSO IVE NEVER SEEN THAT COLORSPREAD??? DOFFY TONGUE PIERCINGS CANON??????

i ALSO loved younger joseph like he was so fun and goofy!!! and then he comes back as a gross old man who not only cheated but cheated with a MUCH younger woman.. and i was like wow!!!! suddenly you are disgusting!!! i will never pity that old man >:( (i will a little)

taking sanji away from oda and dressing him like a doll is Perfect. wonderful analogy. i love it. i keep thinking about dressing characters up like dolls so its topical to me specifically.

admittedly even as a transmasc person i didnt pick up on yamato being a trans guy at first. but all i had to do was look it up.. and read some ppls thoughts on it . and now i will defend him to the ends of the earth. its not hard to learn things that change ur perspective in this age of the internet !! i also agree he's done yamato dirty a few times . honestly when i see people listing reasons yamato isnt trans as like "he was drawn in a womens spread" or "he only identifies as a man because he idolizes a man" its. first of all its so exhausting. bc they always say the same few things. but also!! why did oda have to do him dirty like that!! 😭😭. i genuinely think that him being in a womens spread is probably just transphobia on oda's part (yes i think u can be transphobic towards ur own characters). but the whole "hes not trans because he wants to be *this* man not just *a* man" is so Weird?? like i usually love things being up to readers interpretation (even/especially lgbtq rep tbh) but i think yamato being trans could have been left up to interpretation in a better way?? or like he couldve just said "im a guy" at any point without the whole "because of this man i idolize" thing tacked on. idk if any of this makes sense. I'm trying to explain without spoiling anything LOL. hopefully i succeeded and ur still mostly spoiler free..

i havent written for any op characters before but i can imagine how easy it is!!! and somehow people still butcher their characters LOL its fucking insane. (im bitter)

law!!! yes hes SUPER popular. tbh i liked him real quick after the timeskip. it didnt take much for him to become one of my favorite characters!! all he has to do is make a shocked face every time he ends up going along with the straw hats antics. that is enough. sanji making sandwiches when theyre talking abt the alliance and law says "i dont like bread!!" and then his face of horror when he realizes what hes done .... its so beautiful... i love law and straw hat dynamics!!!

YEAH THATS FROM ONE PIECE PARTY. he actually shows up a lot in that series. i couldnt find all of it online but of what i could find... he was in almost every chapter. it was great. another amazing one piece party moment with law is. the sauna scene where they ask about his tattoos... i . i. i cant even explain how funny it is to me. my explanation could never do it justice.

actually a tierlist sounds Genius.. i am going to make a tierlist. wait for me... i will send it.. whenever im done .. although i dont kno w how to send images... ill find out .

choso is seriously the love of my life (i have many) hes so .. he is so special to me. i have been drawing for a large portion of my life but i spent a long time not taking it seriously out of fear . fanart has reignited my ambition to get better at art!!! its great. thank u hyperfixationions. thank u special interests. thank u audhd.

ok honestly ive never abt eye colors?? i saw recently that robins eyes are actually supposed to be brown not blue tho.. and like... wow... both are so lovely i cant decide what i like more.

to give u an answer though i will brainstorm what eye colors i think they all have!!

luffy: tbh.. like a light reddish brownish color.. i have reasons for this but i cant tell u yet.

nami: a soft orange. she is just so orange. or green!! like the leaf on an orange..

zoro: i... i have no idea for him??? grey?? white?? pink???? green?? im just listing colors?? actually white sounds pretty cool tho.. or maybe a super pale yellow?? that also sounds cool to me..

usopp: his eyes r definitely yellow or green

sanji: ive seen blue and brown for him but tbh as a blue eyed dirty blonde.. i like brown eyes better. i choose brown

chopper: theyre brown. he has big doe eyes. i love deer and their freaky giant eyelashed eyes.

robin: yeah blue or brown are both lovely on her!! tbh i loved her pre timeskip design especially bc the highlights in her hair matched her eyes.. and it was such a nice contrast with her skin color. so i have to choose blue.

franky: my blue eyed king. i love u american boy. they match his hair

brook (for funsies, despite never seeing his eyes): hes gotta have something wacky... rainbow eyes... rainbow.. yes rainbowm.. perfect . ok but actually if i were to choose id choose purple. light purple.

overall i think i chose pretty basic answers (lotta brown and blue). i love brown eyes they r so pretty . also this was very fun to think about???? thank u for asking??? pls tell me what ur headcanons r!!

no yeah i thought possibly it was a name but i was like “haha march anon. bc its march. yea”

jvbhc IT WASNT OBVIOUS WHO YOU WERE TO ME i did not have a guess at all until you said it was obvious and then i got a reply on my post that same day after that that had ur similar typing style and i was like. 👁️oh. KJFNKDSN but yes ur free to stay on anon if u want!! but my dms are always open too 👍

i was a big shipper when i was like. a teenager. and then i grew out of it UNTIL ONE PIECE…IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AND IM REALLY EMBARRASSED ABOUT IT </3 THOUGHT I WAS OVER THIS DAMN STUFF!! i jokingly refer to zosan as my one piece yaoi to my friends. they hate it. so do i,

p.s. the end of that paragraph. took me for a loop. i . WAS NOT EXPECTING HANNYABUL X MAGELLAN SKVNFKD BUT SO TRUE. SO TRUE ‼️

zoro IS a perfect balance its no wonder he’s so well liked (even tho...a lot of dudebros seem to ignore his silly side). whenever i ask someone their favorite one piece character im just expecting them to say zoro tbh. like yea that’s the correct answer. KDNKS not really but its definitely the one i see being most popular. and YES his 3 swords are cool enough but the earrings. does oda know how hard he went giving zoro 3 gold dangly earrings on one ear. like does he know

and you’re right about rayleigh. my friends tell me i am an old man chaser and therefore i am biased but u see my vision. he’s literally hotter when he’s old. it’s the silver fox look.

I KNOW I GOTTA BE SO CLOSE. AHHAGHHH. when i get to katakuri best believe the liveblog will go crazy

my interest has kinda faded with croc too as he hasnt shown up as much…but i know he comes back and when he DOES show up im always so pleasantly surprised i gotta list him. I 1000% think he’s trans (though i dont believe the part about him being luffy’s mom. however. i do enjoy the content that comes from it bc its an interesting concept. and dragon as his ex works weirdly well and is so fucking funny imagining dragon (oh my god i did it too…) missing his ex. 

WOOHOO!!!! AWAITING THE SANJITOKS WITH BATED BREATH. i love that the brook video is making its way around bc its actually a joy. sub does sound “cooler” usually but it just sounds so foreign to me at this point (not foreign in the literal sense of being a diff language. like. just sounds Wrong after being so used to dub.) hold on i need to watch that scene sub now [...]

OKAY. SO. TWO VERY POWERFUL SCENES: i watched both nami’s “help me” at arlong park and robin’s “i want to live” at enies lobby in both sub and dub just now…and for those two in particular. damn theyre actually ALL GOOD?? LIKE ALL REALLY WELL DONE?? although. my favorite dub moment by far. is robin’s “i want to live” in dub. her english voice is my fav compared to the sub by far. if you havent heard it i HIGHLY recommend you check it out like please. for me. literally gives me chills every. time.

tbh that is one of my only major issues with the live action. i actually prefer live action luffy (DONT KILL ME. ITS ONLY BY A LITTLE BIT. INAKI IS JUST SO WONDERFUL AND ITS A COOL ALTERNATE TAKE TO HIS CHARACTER. HE’S..NICER. MORE KIND? BUT NOT IN A WAY THAT I FEEL ERASES MANGA/ANIME LUFFY) tbh the live action tweaked each character a bit. nami is more serious and grumpy, zoro is WAY TOO EDGY?? (zoro is the one i was least happy with) and isnt boisterous nor does he laugh enough (esp for early/pre ts zoro) he does great with the action scenes though. usopp is the closest but he feels more like. suave about his lying whether than nervous? i dont mind it tho. jacob is great. taz is a good sanji but melontee once called him “chad british sanji” and now i cant get tht terrible phrase out of my head KJDNFKVN it really is a fun ride tho!! 

YES THAT COLORSPREADDDD i saw once that apparently the color spreads arent “canon” but whatever. thts not the point. the point is oda has drawn him with tongue piercings which mean he has considered doffy with tongue piercings. its canon to Me

im literally planning to write a fic where sanji goes back to kamabakka with the strawhats and gets forced into doing Kamabakka Island Things (read: gay shit) by Iva even tho he’s embarrassed bc his crew his there. rewriting kamabakka to be better is my favorite past time

u did a good job with the yamato explanation, i already was aware of a lot of that/dont feel spoiled at all! and i agree completely to all of those points. i feel like he Almost wanted to do trans rep but maybe wanted an out ?? or was too scared to go full send with it?? or is just being transphobic lmao. yea. yes to ur whole paragraph basically

law’s “i dont like bread” is iconic ksdnkdc. also ur description of “all he has to do is make a shocked face every time he ends up going along with the straw hats antics” just makes me imagine law pogging all the time. i think that alone just made me like his character more than before KSADNC

I LOOKED UP THE ONEPIECE PART PANEL. “PENIS DEATH” DFKN DF CHOPPA !?!?

if u make a tierlist i will make one…i might have made one b4 actually…i will look. 

HELL YEAA i recently made a bingo for my fav characters across fandoms. u should tell me if u share any . and i think i have it turned on so people can send media in asks?? if not, my submissions are also open

and yes. keep drawing. always and forever as long as its fun!! dont be scared. ur supposd to enjoy it!

yea robin’s eyes are brown in the manga but blue in the anime! i think it was either an error or oda was like “yea whatever thats fine” lmao

luffy’s…”i have reasons for this but i cant tell u yet.” HELLO?? IM SCARED. personally i feel like he has dark brown!!

omg..i like nami’s canon brown eyes but orange or green would be cute!

i 1000% want grey eyes for zoro. i know whenever they stylize the irises in the anime they just color them grey for sanji and zoro but like. for zoro they actually really Work…though i think when u CAN see his irises in colored manga art they’re usually brown? the other most popular option i see people give him in fanart is gold/yellow tho!

VERY INTERESTING USOPP CHOICE?? I WAS GONNA SAY BROWN LIKE NAMI’S BUT MAYBE A BIT DARKER (lighter than luffy’s tho)

ive gotten so used to blue eye sanji bc thats how EVERYONE draws him but in the most recent colorspread…bro. tell me those arent brown. and i recently found other examples with oda colorign his eyes brown, so i think he has a situation similar to robin’s. i prefer brown eyes and brown eyed sanji is so hansome but like. i saw his blues so much that now im torn

i think i actually agree w you about robin for the exact same reason! and bc so many of his characters seem to have brown in “canon”

omg. i havent thought abt franky a lot but hear me out…pink?? i just think it would look good with his hair,

also i consulted this post for what i think their “canon” colors are (in manga)!

RAINBOW EYES FOR BROOK…GAY ASS OLD MAN…light purple would actually look good behind his glasses in his human form!

i might not be able to reply in the next couple days bc i always write so much in these that i sit down to do it at my laptop but i'll keep an eye out and get back to u when i can 🥸

ps...what are ur favorite arcs...

[navree]

is it just me who thinks aemond "loving" alicent was only a facade? now he is smug; looks at his mother not with respect or reverence but as if she is someone lower than him because he murdered someone so he can feel better about himself and fuck the others including alicent who was always there for him. like wtf?

So I haven't actually seen the Team Black trailer so maybe there's more interaction in there, but I haven't seen any interaction between Aemond and Alicent? In the promo materials thus far Aemond's on his own or with Criston, and Alicent's with Aegon, Otto, and the funeral scene with Helaena, as well as on her own near various water sources (Ophelia-core, hell yeah). So unless I'm missing something, we haven't really seen any of how their season 2 dynamic is going to be from promotional material yet.

But as to any expressions he's making, I think we need to remember a few things. One, that Aemond isn't actually very expressive visually. He keeps his face pretty neutral at all times, even with people he's close to like Criston and like Alicent. The only time we really see Aemond as portrayed by Ewan openly show emotion is that scene when he realizes Viserys is dead, when he loses his shit at Luke, and during the chase above Storm's End. So it's entirely possible that, whatever he's feeling, he's not showing it on his face (and Ewan has a mouth that appears to curl naturally, so neutrality doesn't necessarily entirely come off that way just based on how he looks). Two, Aemond also doesn't express what he's feeling, period. Storm's End has always been notable to me, from a character perspective for Aemond, because of the fact that it's the only time we see him as an adult actually show how he's feeling. He doesn't show how he's feeling during his training session, during the throne room, during the dinner (seriously, even when threatening Jace or doing the Strong boys speech, his face stays the same, it's just the fact that he's acting at all that appears impressive), during Aegon's coronation, even during something as high emotion as Aegon begging for freedom (while also tenderly cradling his face, the Aegond agenda is alive and well here people never forget that). So I think unless it's a scene where there's a lot going on (like, immediate aftermath of Blood and Cheese levels), he's gonna just not openly express a whole lot.

Lastly, again I never like to knock on people's interpretations of things, but I think it's important to remember what actually happened last time we saw Aemond and what we've seen so far. He didn't murder anyone. He had intent to maim, yeah, at least during his outburst, and he clearly wanted to fuck with Luke, I'm assuming to try and instill a similar feeling of fear and helplessness he must have felt as he dealt with a gruesome, debilitating, and very painful injury at a younger age than Luke due to something Luke did. But the second shit started going wrong and there was clear intent to cause serious bodily injury that could result in death, he's not on board. Remember, Vhagar and Arrax broke control and started acting on their own volition, Arrax by attacking clearly despite Luke trying to stop it, and Vhagar by retaliating to a threat against her. We verbally hear Aemond try to rein it in, and we hear how clearly not on board and horrified he is when it doesn't work and Vhagar chomps Arrax and Luke (earned, honestly, he was super boring and if you can't even bring yourself to apologize for nearly killing another human being for no reason you deserve what you get). And when we see his face, he's very much not happy, and is clearly aware of just how big a fuck up this is and what the potential repercussions could be. Would Aemond be found guilty of, like, dragoncular manslaughter in court for what happened to Luke? Yeah. But did he murder someone and feel good about it? No.

Not to mention, the only in depth thing we've really seen from Aemond (at least in the Greens trailer) is him saying that he has no problem meeting Daemon in the field, which I think is taking place after Blood and Cheese since Criston's hair is shorter and they're clearly putting Fabien in a wig at least for episode one, based on some stills I saw on Variety. And just as I have no issue with Aegon jovially discussing going to war with Team Black after his mother is brutalized and his sister is tortured and his children are threatened with death and rape and his son is beheaded, I don't have much of an issue with Aemond being gung-ho and happy to go after Daemon after he sent men to terrorize innocent civilian members of his family who had jack shit to do with what happened at Storm's End. I'd be skipping and dancing to the opportunity to fuck him over if he did something like that to my sister and her hypothetical family.

TL;DR, I don't think Aemond is "smug" personally, I think he's got resting bitch face and a tendency towards looking neutral, and we also just haven't seen anything of substance from him yet, along with a) not jiving with what we saw last time we saw him and b) a certain cheeriness to violence being a reasonable response to members of his family being grievously wronged.

[pedrito-friskito]

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 9 - this world is not my home

summary: it’s been a long, long time, but you find almost familiar face in your brand new world.

warnings: nada

a/n: more of a look into super soldier!reader and more character introductions :)

(series masterlist) (main masterlist) (ao3)

You dream for a very long time.

It’s a strange kind of dreaming, the kind that feels like it’s not quite happening to you, but more like you’re simply watching it unfold. It’s fuzzy, blurred around the edges. It takes some time, but you realize eventually that you have some control over it.

You don’t know how much time passes, but you don’t care. You just keep dreaming.

You dream your life together. You and Bucky. Bucky and you.

At first, it ends in a nightmare. It ends with you watching him be thrown from the train, hearing his helpless screams as his body descended down the mountain. After a while, as you gain control, you push the nightmare away. You make a new ending. A happy ending.

You dream your life back in Brooklyn. You dream that the war is ended, that things return to being as normal as they can be. You buy a house near the pier, you have kids, you visit your parents often.

But you always return to the same dream. The dance hall in Brooklyn, Bucky’s arms around you, dancing to a tune you can’t quite remember.

Eventually, you grow tired. You can’t control the dreams anymore. For a while, the dancing plays on a loop, over and over again.

More time passes. You’re not aware of it.

Then you hear it. Absently, an echo, a whisper that barely sinks through to your consciousness.

“Oh my god,” someone says. “They’re still alive!”

+

After he woke up, after the initial shock faded slightly – only slightly, Steve knew it would take years for the shock to completely disappear – he asked after you. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to bury his friend. You deserved a proper funeral, after everything you’d been through.

Two bodies had gone into the ice, and he knew for a fact that two bodies had come out. They’d pulled the Valkyrie wreckage from the water, inspected every inch of the plane. You’d been in the cockpit with him when he’d put it down. You had to be there somewhere.

But they’d denied every request he made, claimed you were government property now, told him that they’d hand you over after your body had been thoroughly inspected. It made him uneasy.

They gave him a box full of photos and files, details of his time as Captain of the Howling Commandos. Hidden among the files, he found a picture of you and Bucky. It looked like your wedding day, the edges worn and the photo cracked in some places. His chest ached when he remembered; Bucky kept the photo with him, had brought it along on every mission. The other men had ribbed him for it, but Steve understood. It was no different than the picture of Peggy tucked inside his compass.

And so he waited. Patiently, impatiently, it differed from day to day.

When Fury comes him, that night in the gym, he’s nearly run out of patience. He’s done waiting. But Fury is preoccupied, more concerned with the Tesseract and the man that took it that anything else. It sets Steve’s teeth on edge. “Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know?”

“You should have left it in the ocean.” He tosses the punching bag he’s carrying into the corner, turns back to Fury. “I’ll help, under one condition.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Captain.”

“I think I’ve waited long enough, sir. She deserves peace. I just want to bury her. That’s all.”

“Your friend?” Fury asks. “The one who was onboard the Valkyrie with you?”

Steve nods. “She was my…” He swallows hard. “She was the wife of my best friend, Sergeant Barnes. She was there, when he was thrown from the train that day.”

Fury nods. “I’ve read the reports.”

“I didn’t know,” Steve continues, “that she was onboard. I had no idea she was there until I…until I had to put it down. It’s miracle enough I survive all these years, but she went through enough. Please, sir.”

Fury is watching him with a wry look, mouth twitching at the corners. “That might be more easily said than done.”

Steve’s fists clench at his sides. “Sir, all I am asking for is-”

“Easier said than done, Captain, because she’s still alive.”

+

Before he boards the plane with Agent Coulson, he asks to see you. It’s a thinly veiled demand. He’d broken three more punching bags after Fury had told him you were still alive.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he’d fumed.

Fury had only lifted a shoulder. “You didn’t ask. And we needed to be sure.”

“How?” he asked.

“We’re not quite sure just yet. But she’s under careful watch, best doctors S.H.I.E.L.D. has access to are looking over her as we speak. She seems to be in a coma of some sorts. We haven’t been able to reverse it just yet.”

Agent Coulson is much more agreeable than Fury, and takes Steve to the medical ward they’re holding you in on the way to board the Helicarrier. It breaks his heart. But Fury wasn’t lying, you’re alive.

From what they can tell, you had been injected with the same super soldier serum that Steve had, all those years ago. It wasn’t clear, but based on the timeline of events, the guess was that Zola had done it while he’d held you captive. Where he’d gotten the serum, they weren’t sure.

You look the same, your features buried beneath tubes and wires. There’s a machine breathing for you with a tube down your throat, a monitor beside your bed showing the still steady beat of your heart. He drops to his knees beside the bed, taking your tape-covered hand in his. You’re warm, and Steve has to blink back the tears that instantly form.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Coulson comes to collect Steve sometime later. He hasn’t moved from his spot. “It’s time to go, Captain.”

Reluctantly, Steve gets to his feet. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter, like you’re dreaming, and he drags himself away to join Coulson.

“Let’s go,” is all he says.

What follows is a welcome distraction, and Steve will admit that you’re in the back of his mind, but he forces the image of you laid up in that hospital bed from his mind long enough to get the job done. The battle of New York leaves him exhausted, but hopeful. They got something right. It was a start. Even if Tony Stark seemed to have the handbook on how to get on every last one of Steve’s nerve. Annoying, but the way he and Banner talk makes him think they might be able to help you.

Steve gives them quite a speech, giving them what details he has. Banner agrees quickly, ready to help. When Steve says your name, however, Stark’s eyes light up.

“Y/N Barnes?” he repeats. “She worked with my father. During the war.”

Steve just nods. “She worked in his lab. Helped him design the shield, actually.”

“I’ll help,” Tony agrees. “Dad never shut up about that one. Happy to help.”

“Thank you, Tony, “ he replies. “Truly.”

Three days later, you open your eyes.

+

The first face you see is Steve’s.

He wears a blue plaid shirt, a brown leather jacket that’s nearly tight around his broad shoulders. His face is the same as you remember, a small smile on his mouth, his blue eyes kind, blonde hair falling in his eyes. He looks the same, but still there’s something different. Something is…off. Not wrong, you don’t think. Your senses don’t prickle in response to any immediate danger, and your body feels too weak to move.

You keep blinking, becoming more and more aware of your surroundings. There’s some kind of mask on your face, forcing air into your lungs, and you can feel a needle in the back of your hand. The room you’re in is not familiar, but nothing is, except for Steve.

You’ve been asleep for a very long time. You’ve been dreaming for a very long time.

“How long?” is the first thing you ask. Your voice feels like sandpaper in your throat, and Steve helps you sip from a cup of water, holding it close to your lips so you don’t have to move.

“Seventy years,” he replies. “Give or take.”

“Seventy,” you whisper, blinking hard. The light in the room is dim, thank god, but your head is starting to bound. “How did…I…?”

Steve blinks at you, confusion on his face. “You don’t know?”

You shake your head slightly. “I remember…the plane, the bombs. You and Schmidt fought, and then…cold.” Your hands flex, and Steve reaches for one of them, holding it between his. His palms are warm, and the feeling is comforting. “But how…?”

There the sound of a door opening, and a man you don’t recognize steps in. Or maybe you do. He’s handsome, dark eyes and dark hair, facial hair that’s neatly trimmed. He wears an impeccable grey suit in a style you don’t recognize, a purple tie and pocket square to match. He steps to where Steve sits, touches his shoulder once. A face appears in your mind, a memory. Howard? “The same way the old man here did.” Even the voice is similar.

Your brow furrows. “I’m…confused.”

“Looking at your biochemistry,” the man says, and your head is pounding, “you were injected with the same serum that made Rogers the man he is today. It saved your life, when you went into the ice.”

You just blink at him. Steve turns and looks at the man. “Slow down, Tony. This is all a bit much.”

But you squeeze his hand. “No, tell me,” you say, looking at the man, Tony. “I want to know.”

“When Zola captured you,” Steve says, “he experimented on you. He injected you with the serum Erskine had developed, but no one knows how he got his hands on it.”

The memory slides through your brain. “I had it,” you say, and both Steve and Tony are looking at you, wide-eyed. “Before…before you were…changed, Erskine paid me a visit. He’s gave me five vials of the serum. I brought it with me when we went to Italy, and kept it hidden when I was working with Howard. I never told anyone, not even...” You swallow hard. “It was on me when I was captured.”

“But you don’t remember him injecting you with it?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest. God, he’s so much like Howard. Seventy years, does that make him…Howard’s son?

“They kept me drugged, for the most part,” you reply. “Zola told me what he’d done to…” You trail off, pain shooting through your skull. “Then I was on the train, and then we-”

A scream echoes through your mind. A memory. A nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s okay,” you hear Steve say, and his grip on your hand tightens. “You’re okay.”

Seventy years, you’d been dreaming. Seventy years. You shouldn’t have survived, but you did. Whatever Zola had done…

“Zola captured Bucky,” you say, your eyes blinking open. You’re staring at Steve. “He experimented on him too. So what did he get? If he’s the same as us, then there’s a chance. He could have survived the fall. He could have-”

“They never found his body, Y/N,” Steve says instantly, and it makes grief seep through your chest like a blanket of ice. “Not all of it.”

Before either of them can say another word, you lurch over the side of the bed and throw up.

+

When you wake a few hours later, Steve is gone. Tony sits in the chair he’d been occupying, hands folded in front of him, eyes on yours. “There she is.”

“You’re Howard’s son,” you say, and he just nods.

“That I am.”

You move slowly, adjusting yourself in the bed, turning onto your side. It’s more comfortable. “Your father was a good friend.”

Tony smiles. “I’ve been told so were you.”

“Is he…?” Alive?

There’s a flash in Tony’s eyes, and his gaze falters slightly from yours.

You swallow hard. How many of the people you’d known are gone? “When?”

“Twenty years ago,” he replies, his eyes finally snapping back to yours. “It was a car crash. Doctors said they died instantly, him and Mom.”

Tears fill your eyes. “Where’s Steve?”

“Old man went for a walk,” Tony says. “Said I’d watch over you. I’m working on a fix, for this…” He gestures to you, the tubes and wires. “Whatever this is. You’ve got good people in your corner.”

You nod. “Thank you.”

He waves it off. “Don’t mention it. I heard enough stories about you as a kid, all the designs you helped with. You’re a legend in the Stark household.”

You snort a little laugh. “Do you know what’s wrong with me? If I was given the same serum as Steve, shouldn’t I be…”

“Six foot of muscle, with the shoulder to waist ratio of a tortilla chip?” Tony responds, grinning. When you just blink in response, he keeps talking. “I’ve looked over the notes from the experiment on Rogers. Pops used Vita-rays to turn him into the giant hunk of man candy he is now, but it was a one-time use. The whole machine was destroyed in the process. Rogers got the full treatment, you just got the serum. But in a way, it still saved you. When you went into the water, your body went into hibernation. That’s how you stayed alive all those years, but it sapped your strength.” He pats your hand. “Like I said, don’t worry, I’m working on a solution. Banner, too.”

“Banner?”

He waves his hand again. “A friend. Chemist, genius, occasionally turns into a giant green rage monster.” Again, you just blink. “I’m joking, mostly.”

The door opens, and Steve steps inside. He has a stack of papers and files and notebooks in his hands. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” you say. Tony gets up out of the chair, holds his arm out as Steve brushes past him to take it, and then heads for the door.

“I’ll be in touch,” is all he says, and then he disappears out the door.

Steve settles into the chair, sets the stack of paper on the edge of the bed you’re in. “I thought I’d fill you in,” he says, reaching for the top file, “on what we missed.”

+

The world you’ve woken up in is wildly different from what you left behind.

In a way, it doesn’t shock you – seventy years was bound to change a few things, but the advances in technology blow your mind. And the food? So much better. You used to boil everything.

Tony visits often, giving you updates on how his solution to your problem is coming along. You meet Dr. Bruce Banner as well, a quiet, soft-spoken man who tends to hide in Tony’s shadow. He’s kind and has a certain kind of hurt behind his eyes that you can’t quite read, but don’t want to pry into.

The pain in your head ebbs a bit with every day that passes. Steve brings you more books and files and notebooks each time he visits, which is often. You’re still weak; it takes a lot of effort to move your limb, and there’s a constant electrolyte drip in your arm. (You’d had to ask Tony exactly what an electrolyte was.) It takes a few months, but eventually they start you with a physical therapist, to help your muscles recover. Soon enough, you’re doing laps around the hospital ward, usually leaning some of your weight on Steve, or Tony.

You and Tony get along as well as you and Howard had, if not better. He’s funnier than his father, quick-witted and silver-tongued. He makes jokes a lot, and, similar to Bruce, you can see a certain kind of pain behind his eyes when he talks about his father.

You share stories of your own, what you remember of Howard, your brief but meaningful time together. Tony listens intently, sharing what information his father had told him about you. “Pops admired the hell out of you.”

“I admired the hell out of him.”

“I know it’s sounds like a long shot right now,” Tony tells you, “but once you’re back on your feet again, there could be a place for you at Stark Industries. The R and D department could use you. Hell, you could run it.”

You gave him a wry smile. “Might be some time before I’d have an ideas that would actually be useful. My brain is still running on 1945 time.”

Tony just smiled back at you, but before he left the hospital that day, he left a small silver device beside your bed, accompanied by a small book titled User Guide, and a small note stuck to the screen.

Welcome to the future.

+

“I’m about to become your new favourite person,” Tony announces as he walks into your room. He’s dressed much more casually today, in a black leather jacket and a shirt with some kind of art on the front. You’re still getting used to the fashion, now sporting a white long-sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants as your hospital attire. You were grateful to get out of the cotton gown. “Mission accomplished.”

He’s holding a silver briefcase, and sets it on the rolling table beside your bed, flicking the locks and lifting the lid. He pulls out a pouch of something, something silvery that glints in the light, and walks over to the standing holding your IV fluids. The pouch he holds it half the size of the bag dripping into your arm.

“More serum?” you ask.

He grins. “Something like that. I unearthed a box of Dad’s old journals. The experiment on Rogers is all common knowledge by now, but I thought he would have kept some of the info to himself. Sure enough, I found a clue. Then another and another, Banner did something…chemical, and just like that, solution complete.”

“You’re sure it’s gonna work?”

“What’s life without a little risk?” he retorts, and then chuckles when your eyes go wide. “That was a joke, Y/N. Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t take a chance on you like that.” He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezes light. “Steve would pummel me into the ground.”

You giggle. “He probably would.”

“Not probably,” Tony says. “Would.”

As if on cue, the door to your room opens, and Steve appears, smiling his hellos. He takes the chair on the opposite side of the bed and puts a hand on your leg. “You ready?”

You nod, suddenly eager.

“Now, you might get a little sleepy,” Tony says, “but let’s get started.”

Tony’s hands are quick as he pulls the tube that’s dripping into your arm from the bag of clear fluids and attaches it to the silver bag. He hangs it on the hook, and the silver serum fills the tube. You watch as it travels down towards the needle in your hand, and as it slips beneath your skin, you can see it travelling up your arm, tracing your veins. Your eyes are instantly heavy, and you lean back against the pillow, head tipping back.

Panic fills your gut, but Tony puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s all right. It’s part of the process. Quick nap, and you’ll be good as new.”

Steve’s face is the last thing you see before you slide quickly into sleep. There are no dreams, no nightmares. Just sleep.

+

Your eyes blink open. You roll your head to the side, looking up at where Tony had hung the serum. The pouch is empty, along with the tube leading to the needle in your hand. You flex your fingers, lifting your hand and turning your wrist over. Your skin is clean, and you can’t see the serum moving through your veins anymore.

You blink hard again.

Everything is in…perfect focus. You’d never really needed glasses, but it was enough that the edges blurred slightly. Now…you could see everything perfectly, colours were more vibrant, details were sharpened. You inhaled heavily, and you could smell a cup of fresh coffee a nurse was pouring down the hall. You pushed yourself up easily, your body moving as easily as it once had, if not easier. There were no aches in your joints, no pinches in your muscle. Everything just…flowed.

You look around the room, still in awe of the clarity, and your eyes land on the television that’s mounted on the wall. Your vision focuses, and then it changes; you can see through the screen, to the wiring behind it. You can see every connection and wire, where they all lead and how they work.

And what’s more…it makes sense. You know why each wire is place how it is, you know why it works the way that it does. You know without a shadow of a doubt that you could rip the television from the wall, cut every wire and break every connection, and still know how to put it back together. You can’t explain it, you’re just sure. More sure than you’ve ever been of anything in your life.

Well, except one thing.

You reach for your left hand, fingers closing around your fourth finger, your bare knuckle. When you close your eyes, you summon a memory, but the nightmare comes first. The blast, the creak of metal, the screaming.

You push through it to a happier one, the happiest one you have. Wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, standing at the end of the pier. Your head is leaned back on his shoulder, and as you stare up at the stars, Bucky’s lips whisper behind the shell of your ear.

“I love you.”

[sextonsharpwinhalstead]

Hi, I keep seeing you talking abut grey's anatomy so if you're watching can I know what's your favorite character and favorite ship ? Have a nice day or good night

Man, 18 seasons and I feel like I liked certain characters at different times with different people, for different reasons. Because there are so many seasons and characters and ships I dont have just one. I don't really have favorites of anything.

Currently I really like Maggie and I loved DeLuca too. They were one of my favorite ships and I hate that the show killed it before they had a chance to see where it could've gone. I like her and her new husband they make a good couple but I always wished we could've seen what would've happened. Most of my favorite ships on the show didn't last, either mired by death or tragedy (mostly someone being written off) they were sometimes incredibly sweet and then ended tragically usually not without bumps but they were some of my favorite.

Henry and Teddy

They had this casual flirtation and they married out of convenience because he needed insurance and expensive surgery and then it developed into something really beautiful and then he died. Teddy deserved that kind of happiness.

Izzy and Denny

Another patient-doctor relationship. Izzy risked EVERYTHING to be with Denny, stole him a heart, damn near got kicked out of the residency program all for love. Denny just made her feel beautiful and seen. Then as soon as Denny got the heart and the pink returned to his cheeks he died from a stroke. It was easily one of the saddest things seeing her curled up next to him as all of their plans, their dreams, just went poof.

Mark and Lexie

They were mismatched and Derek warned him to leave her alone but he couldn't. They had ups and downs and tried to make it work and they couldn't. When they finally made there way back to each other they ended up in a horrible small plane crash. Mark ran around helpless trying to save her and she died. He followed weeks later. It was some of the saddest episodes I ever watched. Those two deserved to be happy, together.

Maggie and DeLuca

They hooked up one day out of nowhere and they were really cute. Maggie got a chance to be youthful which is something she didn't get to do being a child prodigy. But then DeLuca did the mature thing because he didn't want her to favor him because they were sleeping together so he ended it. I always hoped they'd get back together but the show felt like sticking him with Meredith and then killing him.

Meredith and Derek

This ship had a lot of toxic elements, abused power structures, adultery, slut shaming, lying and hurting each other. But in the end they were each other’s big love and they had amazing chemistry. Derek's death left a huge hole in Meredith's heart and I cry a lot when I think of them.

Arizona and Callie

Although in hindsight there some major problems, like Arizona's bi-phobia with Callie, but there was something really sweet about them. I will never get over the way everyone called her Callie and Arizona would always call her Calliope. It was this little indicator that she saw her differently because she was different. They had a super sweet relationship but the wreck and Callie's inability to save Arizona's leg left the once happy doctor bitter and resentful. So much so she cheated with a very pretty doctor who was visiting (the real life wife of the actor who played Denny). For once a ship didn't end in death but it always broke my heart that they didn't work out.

Jo and Alex

That was his girl. She was made for him and they were a perfect couple and if Justin Chambers hadn't left the show I think they would still be together. He protected her in a way she desperately needed. The show threw him back with Izzy after he was terrible with her and I really don't understand why. They were AWFUL together. But Jo and Alex were really great and I wish that it had had a chance to really be what it could've been.

[gralunaisland]

Given the backstories Mashima gave his characters, he could have done something great with their development, even with juvia who is plain toxic in canon. She was apparently rejected her whole life, why not show the effects it had on her without trying to paint it as comedy ? It's a real shame because most of the characters could have been developed so well but were sacrificed to become love interests or plot devices.

FT Characters (especially juvia) Reduced to Being Love Interests or Plot Devices

You make a fantastic point, Anon!! I agree wholeheartedly.

I’m pretty sure I mentioned something related to that in one of my posts before actually, buried underneath my babble somewhere.

Anyway, juvia would be so much better as a character and way more relatable if Mashima had built her around her hardships and had her character growth come from finally opening up to people and being accepted for who she was with her rain and whatever and them bettering her. she seriously would’ve been actually likable if she hadn’t flipped her crazy switch at the first act of kindness given to her and instead took a while coming out of her shell.

Way more people would’ve been able to relate to her, because I’m sure many of us, if not most, have felt lonely or overlooked or even shunned at times. she could’ve been the bullied outcast people got to sympathize with, and she could’ve gotten the redemption and the hard-earned happy ending lots of us desire for ourselves.

But nope, the juvia we get is the most un-relatable, off-putting, toxic thing ever, which drives people away from supporting her. (Except for her fans who overlook all her bad qualities in order to like her, I guess. At that point, though, honestly, without trying to be mean, Pros— do you even like her at that point? Aren’t you in love with your ‘delusion’ or fantasy of the character and not the character herself? We may never know.)

While lots of people do feel lonely, conversely, I bet most people don’t stalk and harass and have clinically insane delusions about their crush, and yet juvia, who does all this and more, is the one we’re somehow expected to root for.

I really can’t empathize with a crazy, r*pey chick, nor do I want to.

And you’re right that there were lots of other characters that were sacrificed in the name of pleasing the shipper fandom; Gajeel and Levy are most prevalent in my mind after gr///via (and the travesty that is the death of Gray's character in 100yq).

Levy wasn’t a super interesting character to begin with; she just had two guys who were the biggest fans of her for no apparent reason, which she didn’t care about, and she didn’t seem to care about them too much, ignoring them completely when they wanted to be her partner at Tenrou for the mysterious "misunderstood" dude. Overlooking that, she was pretty nice and smart, but that was it. She could’ve definitely gotten a part of an arc dedicated to her breaking past certain barriers and expectations of her petite, waif-ish, and unassuming self, but something that only remotely resembles that only came with her mashed forced pairing with the bad boy, Gajeel.

For Gajeel, I think his redemption was rushed way too fast, and his 180 didn’t make much sense to me, but instead of really exploring his struggle with overcoming his darker nature (I mean if you watch Phantom Lord, he was a real b*stard honestly, beating up helpless Lucy for fun until she was near dead), he just turns over a new leaf with no problem at all, and everyone forgives him despite him not really apologizing to most of them. And then he somehow fell for the uninteresting bookworm whom he’d beaten up and strung to a tree before… idk, Mashima relied too much on the good, book girl and bad boy cliche in hopes of creating a popular pair.

People should be more than merely a cliche or a plot device or romantic interest, because when your identity is solely rooted in loving another person, as I've said before, you cease to exist. You have no personality trait or motivator without your dependency on an outside factor, and that's undoubtedly unhealthy for all parties involved.

Anyway, thank you very much for your ask! Sorry it took a lil while to respond. I loved your observations and points!