#(god i say THIS but i have to finish a handful of wips before the tablet is due

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

I FORGOT TO THROW OUT AFTER THE EPISODE RELEASED NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[cheswirls]

having immense tetherverse thoughts once again

[vibingandsimping]

Literally NOBODY asked me this in my inbox. Got tired of waiting, smh… So I wrote it. Consider this my community service. Halsin teaching an inexperienced reader how to give a handjob. That’s it.

EDIT: Getting back into posting and this is a wip I’ve been working on. I added a little more to it for some length but this will likely be all. Unless you all want to see this finished.

———————————-

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected to get this far. Nor did you have any clue what to do at this point. Things between you and Halsin had intensified in a short period of time. His passion as a whole was almost infectious. He gave you a sense of comfortability in your self. Always putting you at ease whenever he was in your company. Short pecks turned into long kisses. Fleeting touches into longer embraces… more intense touches. What was a make-out session now Halsin laying under you hard. The feeling of his hard length against the inner of your thigh enriched the pre-existing butterflies fluttering inside you. He trailed a hand down your side before kissing along your neck, earning a whine of pleasure. The intensity of flame between your thighs gradually increased with each touch. You needed to do something to alleviate this itch inside you. With a shaking breath- you spoke.

“Can I touch you, Halsin?” The words were timid. Nerves shook your voice and made you tense. The man-bear chuckled and slid his arms down your back to your waist. Sitting you upwards before he spoke himself.

“Of course, my dove. Let me teach you.” His large hands shifted his pants down his hips til his engorged erection bounced as it escaped it’s confines. It was intimidating, frankly. The tip red and swollen, along with the shaft reflecting a similar pink. He stared at you affectionately as you took in the sight of him. He understood- he was a large man. His fingers interlocked with yours and he raised your hand towards the head. With precarious movements, and a reaffirming look (which you mutually shared), he wrapped your fingers around it. It throbbed at your touch and felt impossibly hot. Like his groins were truly aflame. You did this all to him by yourself?

“Slide your hand down. Slowly, and work around the tip each time you go back up.” You nodded attentively and promptly followed his instructions. Te precum drizzled from his cock as you gently pulled the foreskin down. Of course he was uncut, as Astarion would say, this man is all about nature. Each jerk slowly worked it down slower before you had his full length exposed and reddened. His stomach tensed and released from the stimulating friction. Drawing his lip into his teeth.

“Good. Keep doing that…” He uttered firmly. His dominance enraged the fire inside you and you returned to stroking him with newfound vigor. ‘Shlicking’ up his length and back down. His precum dribbled onto your palm and aided your journey to helping him achieve orgasm. You studied his face and watched as each feature changed with your movements. His lip remained in his teeth- seemingly drawn tight. He reached a hand down to your hip and held you in place. Confidence bubbled to the surface with his motion. In turn, you began rubbing your thumb over his slit with each jerk.

“Holy. Gods, you’re such a minx. Mm, just like that.” He laughs out loud as he speaks. You can’t help but smile cheekily at his response. Even when being jerked off he was still Halsin. His stomach and thighs began to shake and his head tilted to the side. If you had to guess he seemed close. Already? You pondered mid-stroke. Hand working harder on his hard cock as the wet shlicks filled your ears. He began to softly moan in response to the rapid increase in pressure and pace. It was only a few minutes before he began to spurt his seed across your chest and hand. Growling out primally as he reached his climax. Hands holding your hips so firmly you were sure you’d bruise after. Halsin’s face squished in a look of ecstasy. Tinged with embarrassment. He flopped down after and released his harsh grasp.

“Apologies. I just find you so captivating that I couldn’t hold myself back. How about I return the favor, honey?” Yeah, that sounded nice.

[kurogxrix]

Charm’

Footballer!E-42 Miles Morales x reader

IN WHICH despite the amount of fame and fangirls that your footballer boyfriend Miles receives, he never fails to remind them that he’s yours and yours only at the end of the day.

A/N: this is a rushed ass wip that i wanted to finish, so don’t expect much😭

The yelling and high-pitched crying has been going on for a solid minute now, and the red carpet laid between the crowd control barriers has yet to be occupied. It was always this way, fans crying out their love to Miles before the man could even leave the building, then yelling some more as the poor man simply walked down the short hall to reach the comfort of the black limousine that was always awaiting him 20 minutes before his appearance.

From behind the shut doors, a suited Miles was mentally preparing himself for his entrance. If he had known that this was the reality of fame, he would’ve never signed the contract in the first place. Though who is he even kidding, anybody would have taken the chance to play for their favourite football team if they could. Hell, he would’ve signed the contract for any team at this point, it was his childhood dream to play in a professional football club - and he was sure that it was many other kids’ dream as well.

Miles couldn’t help but close his eyes for reassurance, begging for his mind to concentrate on anything else but the uproar behind the closed doors that stood just a few metres away from him. Clouded by awe, the obvious first thing that his mind could find to distract himself was you. Lord, he even had to run a hand down his hair to stop his thoughts from running too far. 

You and Miles had been together for 3 years now, that was 2 years before he got signed in the team, and one year into his famous days. Sometimes he’d wake up and raise his head towards the sky to utter a prayer, thanking a god that he didn’t believe in for having you stay by his side despite the ups and downs. 

Miles walked towards the nearest body mirror, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he did so. He made sure to check himself out one last time to see if he looked presentable, he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave the building with a crumpled suit, that wouldn’t look good on the photos now would it?

As Miles neared the exit again, a familiar tune caught his attention from beyond the closed doors. A melody that he could recognize from millions of others, one that he’d stay up relistening to with you past midnight as you both failed to fall asleep. The hypnotising voice that would fill his playlist beyond the never ending lists of rap songs, Rema.  

Miles shut his eyes for a split second, reliving all the singing and laughing-filled moments shared between the both of you as this song played in the background. Taking a final deep breath, Miles finally grounded himself enough to push past the doors. It didn’t even take a millisecond for the roaring of fangirls to erupt, and his foot had yet to even step ground on the outside of the building. 

The camera flashes didn’t wait for him either, blinding him before he even had the chance to step foot on the carpet. Miles would beg to accept that he was used to it now, he’d love to say that he had gotten used to it now after a year of living through it. Though he’d be a liar to admit so, and everything just feels so overwhelming. 

Nevertheless, the striking smile on his face never faltered, and he looked cunning to the very eye. He stood there unmoving for a couple of seconds, letting the cameras capture every good angle of his before they swarm him on the carpet. Miles can’t help his eyes from trailing into the crowd. The very same brown iris widening at the sight, unable to help the deep chuckle that escapes within him. 

A swarm of women, including a couple of men, yelling at his name. Some of them have hefty signs that are raised up for him to see, and he laughs at the outrageous things that are written on them. Their confidence blows at Miles, how in hell can anyone go out in public while holding a sign filled with such filth. It makes him shiver at the fact that those things are written about him, but a warm smile makes way to his face as he skims through the “I Love You” ones. 

He too, loves his fans as much as they adore him. Even through the rather explicit messages that they leave him, he loves them throughout. Beyond the hate that he inevitably received after becoming a public face, Miles must admit that the love is much rewarding. It soothes a piece of his heart that has been tainted by the stress of being a footballer, and it’s even better when he catches children looking up to him with a miniature version of his jersey on. It envelopes his heart with a warmth that he can’t even grasp. 

A sudden movement strays from the others, and it catches Miles' attention. If it wasn’t for the blinding flashes of the paparazzi and the thousands of screeching fans, he would’ve definitely noticed the limousine waiting for him at the end of the line, but he feels his heart stammer as the driver delicately opens the back door. 

Sure, on the outside, Miles’ may resemble a stoic guy. His resting bitch face does his kind heart little justice, and the two fine braids that accompany his fade just boosts his intimidating look. On the inside, Miles feels his heart pounding uncontrollably at the sight of you waiting in the ride for him. You’re  seated at the other side of the open door, keeping a place for him besides you. 

A small smile rises on Miles' face, and a wicked idea brews in the back of his head. He walks a bit faster towards his car, confusing the cameramen and the people that are throwing themselves above the bars just to get a touch of this man. However, when he reaches the car, you’re shocked when he motions for you to grab onto his hand.

Sure, yours and Miles’ relationship was never kept at bay from anyone. You’d been with him since before his fame, and he’d be a loser to keep you in the dark now that he was famous, with your consent of course. It wasn’t unusual that Miles’ would often get questions about you during interviews, and you’d often find yourself smiling at the TV as you watched him answer them with pride. 

Though this was different. You’d never accompanied him out to events, yet alone on a carpet walk. It had nothing to do with Miles but all with you, you weren't all the shy on a usual, but  almost afraid of the camera’s. You’d seen the way they’d flash attack your boyfriend from behind the closed car windows, and sometimes you feared that they’d end up snapping a shitty picture of you, post it and then you’d get burnt on the internet.

The web wasn’t a nice place and you knew it, plus with the thousands and jealousy-infected women out there, you just knew that the things they’d say were going to be more than nasty. Though as you watched Miles’ ‘there’s no pressure’ smile and his soft hand reaching out to you, you decided to push those fears away. 

“Hey ma,” Miles spoke softly to you, the charm in his voice unavoidable as he stared straight into your eyes. It was hard to only stare into those eyes of yours, because once Miles had helped you out of the car, he couldn’t help but notice just how stunning you were on this night. Not that you weren't usually eye-catching, he believed that you were the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth, though something about this newfound confidence just made you so much more attractive.

“hey..” You were clad in a skintight, dark blue dress that had been gifted to you by none other than Miles. He’d smooth talk you through the “here’s a beautiful dress for a beautiful girl”, in all of his sap. The opera gloves were just as dark as the dress, and the light reflecting off of it gave the blue colour its stunning shine. Miles was enamoured by you, his brown iris unable to leave your form as you stood on your Smiling Melody platform heels. 

Miles loves everything about this moment, from the way you dressed so chique despite your sole aim tonight being to pick up Miles from here before dipping back home. He loved how extra you were, always urging to be the best dressed even if it was for a supermarket trip. Miles loved how that shy smile of yours never left your face as you continued to stare at him. 

The chorus of cheers from behind the both of you broke you out of your trance, and finally, you collected the courage to turn around and face everyone. Miles’ warm palm found a home within your lower back, and the comforting presence of it was enough to ground you. You knew that he was looking at you with that lovesick expression of his, you didn’t even need to glance up at him to be sure. 

The middle of the carpet found you well, and an unfamiliar feeling surged in your chest at the sight of so many people. So many cameras and so many eyes fixed towards you, like your place didn’t belong next to your boyfriend that stood right besides you. Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, there were too many things to look at and too many things to concentrate on. It was overwhelming. 

But through your concerns, Miles just knew how to appease your thoughts. 

Ending the night with Miles kissing you before the very cameras was not how you had expected things to go. In fact, you were sure that he’d angled the both of you to face them, instead of trying to shy away. He didn’t want to hide you, and he wasn’t. The excessively loud roar that broke the crowd once more now fell pridefully to his ears. 

He wanted to show you off to the world, show these people around the  globe that they stood no chance besides you. He wanted the images to hit the news, be the main title of next week's People magazine. Miles’ wanted nothing more than having these girls holding up those outrageous signs to go back home with disappointment swarming their chests as they realise that he’ll only ever be with you, as mean as it sounds. 

You didn’t either expect the night ending up with you and Miles unable to keep your hands off of each other during the ride back home, him whispering all sorts of blarney talk into your ears as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, but that’d be a magazine-cover drama for another week. 

For now, you’d enjoy your giggle-filled ride back home as you both unceasingly requested for the chauffeur to replay the previous song. And amidst his annoyance, he had no other choice than to bother each time the song ended to press backwards on the limousine’s tactile screen. The music was a little too loud for his taste, but that’d be something that you could care about tomorrow morning. For now, you’d be too busy enjoying the tunes of Rema’s Charm with Miles to bother about anything else. 

-

IK there’s not much actual footballer!miles but this is just some sort of intro to the AU, if i choose to continue it…

[gffa]

I haven't read any STEVE/BUCKY FIC in the last five years or so (Endgame really burned me hard), BUT I can at least offer what I read up to that point! Most of my recs are from around when Captain America: The Winter Soldier first came out (some from before, so there's a few speculation fics) and then I was ready semi-regularly up through Inifinity War, so these may be a bit dated but also the fandom had some ABSOLUTE BANGER fics from that era! I mostly read from about 2014 to 2019 and I can't say how well many of these held up, but I know my tastes haven't changed that much, so there should hopefully be something for anyone interested here! Anyway, I think I'm finally Not As Mad As I Once Was enough to read fic again/celebrate the 10th anniversary of TWS, but also let's be clear. I will forever hold a grudge about what Marvel did with Steve and Bucky post-TWS, that was bullshit from start to finish. ESPECIALLY the finish, oh my god okay so I'm still Actually That Mad and-- NO, OKAY, HAVE SOME FIC RECS BEFORE I MELT DOWN AGAIN.

CAPTAIN AMERICA FIC RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:

STEVE/BUCKY SHIP FICS

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR

STEVE & BUCKY-CENTRIC FICS (WITH A LITTLE OF EVERYONE ELSE, TOO)

STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE/BUCKY FIC RECS: ✦ Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me In by victoria_p (musesfool), steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff, reunion fic, 4.1k Bucky finds himself, and then he finds Steve. ✦ you got blood on your hands (and i know it’s mine) by nighimpossible, steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff + brief mention of sam wilson/natasha romanoff, suicidal ideation, 2.9k Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming. ✦ take all you can carry by havisham, steve/bucky & cast, 2.4k    Bucky Barnes reassembles himself to a reasonable degree and makes romantic overtures to one Steve Rogers. It’s happened before and will happen again. ✦ I’d Know That Face Anywhere by Shay081793, steve/bucky, NSFW, divergent timeline, 2.7k The 107th never got captured. Instead, Bucky Barnes is in the audience when that clown "Captain America" performs to rally the troops, and holy shit, that clown is Steve Rogers. ✦ and we are finally home by springsoldier (ladydaredevil), sam & bucky + steve/bucky + implied sam/natasha + implied bucky/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam's kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Capture the Flag by Shiny_n_new, steve/bucky + sam, dark au, 9.4k wip Bucky has always been willing to do Captain America’s dirty work. This was no different. Sometimes, the day isn’t won by high ideals or bravery or compassion. Sometimes, it’s won by monsters. ✦ Memories are Made of This by eleveninches, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, 13.2k Nearly a year after turning himself into SHIELD and the Avengers, Bucky struggles to find himself in the 21st century. Unfortunately, no one told him about the aliens.

✦ but hey, you’re all right by beardsley, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 5.5k Yes, this is the story where the Winter Soldier is a Russian mail-order bride. Everything goes about as well as you’d expect. ✦ I Left Myself in 1943 (Who the hell is Bucky?) by originalblue, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 21k You have a mission, but your mind is being split in two, and there's a man on the bridge, and you know him. You don't know why, but you know him. ✦ sam deserves better than these assholes by lazulisong, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 18k IM SORRY BUT SAM WILSON STARING IN BAFFLED WONDER AT STEVE AND BUCKY AND HOW WEIRD THEY ARE ABOUT EACH OTHER ✦ broken pieces (the rough edges remix) by legete, steve/bucky, 2.1k It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but sometimes Bucky prefers the nightmares that actually happened. ✦ Talk Dirty to Me by PeetaPan, steve/bucky, NSFW, wall sex, 2.5k Steve spends months tracking Bucky down, and when he eventually find him, it’s in a nightclub in Europe. ✦ the body adrift by Febricant, steve/bucky + sam, mildy nsfw, 4.2k Steve has no drawings of Bucky from before. Those are all gone, destroyed in the war or by his own hand; it wouldn’t do for anyone to see how easily the details came from memory, how often Bucky was in his thoughts. ✦ Tony Stark and the Illegal Cross-Country Road Trip from Hell by ActionAddiction, steve/bucky + tony + sam + clint + natasha + fury, 21.8k wip A stir-crazy genius, a secretly sentimental assassin, two soldiers lost in time, and an undercover archer without an identity zigzag across the continental United States in Fury’s stolen van. Or: How Bucky Met Steve (Again)

✦ Didn’t know I was lonely till I saw your face by gunboots, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha + sam + bruce + tony + xavier, 2.9k There are words on paper, actors in movies, and a grand story that fills a whole corner of a museum defined by history. There are words, there are pictures, there are movies, but they’re limited, fragmented. They can’t do justice to the sniper that Captain America trusted, the man that grew into a boy in the streets of Brooklyn with his best friend at his side. The man that could be James Buchanan Barnes leaves a legacy that is barely defined. The man that Steve Rogers says he is. ✦ the inaccuracy of historical wartime dramas by Mici (noharlembeat), steve/bucky + sam + natasha, 3k (or: Steve has feelings, and shouldn’t ever watch television) ✦ The Shape I’m In by radialarch, steve/bucky, 2.6k [AU where Bucky never fell.] They win the war. Steve and Bucky come home and deal with their feelings. ✦ дорогой by smilebackwards, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, canon divergence, 1.8k “Are you goddamn kidding me?” Fury asks when Steve shows up to the rendezvous point in Fredericksberg with the Winter Soldier. ✦ have you ever thought just maybe by Desdemon, steve/bucky + tony/pepper + other marvel characters, humor, 4.4k “JARVIS,” Tony called thoughtfully. “Yes, sir?” “Those young people are in love,” he said. ✦ Use Your Damn Words by wilddragonflying, steve/bucky, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.2k There’s murmuring, indistinct voices, all around him; all he catches, at first, are the occasional words. “—mated.” “—no difference—“ “—make him forget—“ That’s when Bucky starts fighting. ✦ It’s an Adequate Life, Bucky Barnes by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, it’s a wonderful life fusion, 10.2k This is a world without Bucky Barnes.

✦ and it starts just where the light exists by caughtinanocean, steve/bucky, mildly nsfw, 3.4k In which Bucky can’t admit the things he needs, but Steve knows them anyway, and Steve and Bucky are definitely a couple, even if they don’t know it. ✦ tango till they’re sore by sciencemyfiction, steve/bucky, nsfw, 4k Four shorts about Steve and Bucky, and romance, and sex, and dominance, and grief, and forgiveness. ✦ Permission by derekstilinski, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 2.5k After Bucky’s captured by SHIELD, they put him in a holding cell, and strip him of everything but his clothes. He’s dirty, damaged, and Steve can’t just watch him like that, protocol or not. ✦ Milkshakes & Penguin Suits by TheLocket, steve/bucky, fluff, 2.9k At the latest Stark party, Steve and Bucky share a milkshake — and spend the evening together. ✦ Practical Mathematics by Grey_Bard, steve/bucky + steve/peggy + steve/peggy/bucky + tony, 1.7k After a hard shift saving the world, Stark - in his infinite wisdom - has decided to bond with Steve by talking about his favorite subject. Well, third favorite, after building things and smart-mouthing people. Steve is pretty sure none of his experiences really count. Tony is starting to wonder what Steve’s definition of “is” is. ✦ how happy must be angels thus employed by lanyon , steve/bucky + clint/coulson, mildly nsfw, humor, 2k It begins entirely accidentally. Clint walks in on Bucky and Steve in a compromising position and then Bucky escalates by tapping a private line between Clint and Phil. Also known as The One With The Cock-Blocking Competition (and it’s all fun and games until Phil and Steve find out.) ✦ Fate by grumpyowls, steve/bucky + peggy, 2.1k Bucky finds a drawing and it turns out to mean something more than he thought.

✦ One More Time by DevBasaa, steve/bucky, pre-serum, ~1k Steve’s clueless and Bucky’s not yet ready to acknowledge these feelings. But that doesn’t stop him from having them. Set before Bucky ships out, but after Steve receives his A1. ✦ Bucky and Bear by fromgoodbones, steve/bucky, fluffy, ~1k Steve gets Bucky a cat. ✦ Size Isn’t A Problem by bondboy68, steve/bucky, NSFW, 1.8k It’s the first time Bucky has seen Steve naked in some seventy-odd years, and things have definitely changed.

STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION:

✦ devil’s gonna follow me (wherever I go) by Lyaka, steve/bucky & natasha & cast, the winter soldier speculation, 63k The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely. Help me, the bullet sang. Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping. And Steve Rogers looked up. ✦ And it felt like a kiss by orphan_account, steve /bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k We can’t stop feeling Winter Soldier feelings. And neither can Bucky or Steve. ✦ testament by paxlux, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier speculation fic, 10.6k His memory runs backwards in crooked bright flashes, hard as the noise flare of an assault rifle. ✦ persistence of memory by hollimichele, steve/bucky/natasha, NSFW, the winter soldier speculation, 11.5k It’s a nondescript sort of a Wednesday morning when the Winter Soldier walks into SHIELD headquarters, bold as brass, and announces his intention to surrender. ✦ To Be Modified As Necessary by ignipes, steve/bucky & bucky/natasha & clint/natasha & thor/jane & avengers, the winter soldier speculation, 5.9k They only need ten rules to ensure (relatively) peaceful cohabitation. ✦ lights at two dollars a strand by legete, steve/bucky + tony, the winter soldier speculation, 1.4k They don’t mean to decorate for Christmas. It just sorta…happens.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ Out of the Dead Land by orphan_account, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + nick fury + other marvel characters, nsfw in one scene at the end, 62.7k Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes. ✦ this is a back alley by saintsideways, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 14.2k Here is the only thing you know: the body remembers. ✦ your blue-eyed boys by Feather (lalaietha), steve/bucky & cast, 123.3k Steve has no plan. Not because he hadn't tried to make one. He'd tried to make lots of plans. Plan, adapt, plan again, tried to think of every contingency. [post-Winter Soldier recovery fic] ✦ The man on the bridge by boopboop, steve/bucky & tony/pepper & clint/natasha & cast, 107.5k Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door with an amnesiac assassin - who may or may not have some of Tony's personally designed hardware attached where his arm should be - well that's just far too interesting to turn away, even if Tony is trying to avoid all things S.H.I.E.L.D these days. ✦ Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin’ Boy by ifeelbetter, sam & bucky + steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, (some) humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers’s best friend. ✦ Reconstruction Site by EmilianaDarling, steve/bucky + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 7.6k He is the Winter Soldier. He is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s not one and he’s not the other, and he’s not sure if that makes him anything worth saving. In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.

✦ hold me tight by hollimichele, bucky/steve + sam + natasha, nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 11.1k In the old days, before the war, Steve got cold at night. That was all it was, at first. ✦ A Bullet in the Barrel (of your best guy’s gun) by lc2l, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, canon divergence (sort of), violence, 6k You return to the concrete hole in the ground where the mission is not dead and not in the sewers and is looking at you. “Bucky,” says Rogers, Steve (deceased). ✦ Sleeperhold by Argyle, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.2k He’s hardwired to disappear. ✦ lost my fear of falling by ftmsteverogers, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, 1.8k “It’s been two weeks,” Natasha says, pressing a coffee cup into Steve’s hand. “How long are we going to do this?” Steve watches the steam curl into question marks above his cup. “I know he’s still in there,” he says, and that’s that. ✦ but the fires are coming by stitchingatthecircuitboard, steve/bucky + bucky & natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He does not remember, except that is better than being made to forget, again, and again, and again. He does not go to Brooklyn. ✦ we did not make ourselves by M_Leigh, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 25.1k It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows. ✦ measured my life in cooking lessons by FoxGlade, steve/bucky + clint + avengers, fluff, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He knocks on Clint’s door, sharp and loud, and half a minute later Clint is standing there in boxers and a baggy Army Rangers shirt. “Morning,” Steve says shortly, before Clint can say anything. “You up to teaching me how to make those French toasts? I think I need to talk.” Clint yawns and stretches. Something in his back makes a loud cracking sound and Steve winces. “Yeah, I’m up,” he mumbles, then squints. “This is going to be a long cooking lesson, isn’t it?” “I found Bucky sitting outside the tower on the street when I went out for a jog and he remembered me but I’m pretty sure that’s all he remembers.” Clint just waves a hand and heads for the kitchen, Steve shuffling in his wake.

✦ and we are finally home by lastembers, sam & bucky + steve/bucky + sam/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam’s kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Circling Back by chaya, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 59.6k Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him. ✦ your favorite ghost by augustbird, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 21k It’s harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home. ✦ Green-Eyed Monster by storiesfortravellers, steve/bucky + steve & tony + steve & sam + bucky & natasha, humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier has joined the team and is slowly recovering, but he goes into a jealous rage whenever he sees that Steve is close friends with Tony, Sam, or Natasha. Past Steve/Bucky. ✦ Castor and Pollux by StringTheori, howard stark & steve + steve/bucky, mild the winter soldier spoilers, 2.9k A fic where Howard is emotionally constipated, a terrible human being, catches someone doing something, and brushes off friendships because he can. ✦ Find My Way by Brenda, steve/bucky + oc pov, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.6k Well, someone had to write the post-Winter Soldier fic where Bucky gets a decent meal and some homemade apple pie, right?

✦ Parallel Constructions by freshbakedlady, steve/bucky + sam + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 13.6k In the absence of orders, the man wearing the face of Bucky Barnes must figure out who he will be. The answer, mostly, is “somebody Steve Rogers can love.” Nothing so easy should ever take this much work. ✦ five people bucky barnes never was. by rhllors, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.9k Five lives that never came to pass. ✦ no heart to recall by KiaraSayre, steve/bucky & sam & natasha & tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 15.3k He’s been in Steve Rogers’s company for less than twenty-four hours and he’s already losing sight of his mission. ✦ Bring Us Back a Souvenir by newredshoes, steve/bucky & sam & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.5k Even with all his hair hacked off, he doesn’t look like a Bucky, Sam thinks. Maybe as some sort of stupid joke, like naming your most vicious dog Sweetpea. Steve’s told him the stories, and he’s seen the old newsreels; he knows what this Barnes guy used to be like. But it’s not like knowing what to look for is going to magically make some spark rise to the top. This isn’t an excavation. ✦ i will be your ground by misprinting, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.7k A character study. The subject: Bucky’s hair. (Also, a Bucky comes in from the cold fic.) ✦ Debts by vestigialwords, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k Steve’s life is a collection of debts, and the balance does not work out in his favor. ✦ Five times Steve kissed Bucky by paragon, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 16.5k (+ once, finally, it was the other way around) ✦ Run Until the Road Runs Out by ignipes, steve/bucky + sam & bucky + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 5.2k Sam’s along for this ride because he’s not about to let Steve Rogers go it alone, but Steve’s not the only one who needs a friend.

✦ And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me by ifeelbetter, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.4k The Captain woke quickly and tested the chain before he saw the Soldier. All the tension in his body evaporated once he met the Soldier’s eyes and he slumped downward, back up against the wall. “Oh, thank god,” he said. He repeated it twice, quiet. Like a secret. ✦ Your Mind Rings by Amberly, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.2k You aren’t Bucky. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, either, but you’re not Bucky ✦ tabula rasa by dance_at_bougival, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 10.3k Bucky Barnes screamed himself hoarse on that table and screamed falling off that train. He screamed when they programmed him and screamed and screamed until he isn’t Bucky Barnes anymore, not really. He is still screaming, a trapped rat running around a labyrinthine machine, clawing at the doors and running into dead ends. He has been screaming for seventy years. ✦ The Age’s Most Uncertain Hour by dewinter, steve/bucky + peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.8k Five times the Winter Soldier remembered (and then forgot). ✦ The Steven G. Rogers Guide to What You Missed the Last Few Years by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, humor, 5.1k Steve’s got the hang of this 21st century thing. ✦ All the First Times by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier spoilers, 9.6k Bucky starts over and finds new ways to survive. ✦ Me Against Your Memory (It’s a Two-Step Recovery Process) by thisiswhatthewatergaveme, steve/bucky + steve & natasha + steve & sam + natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 56.5k wip The Soldier needs answers. It’s the only mission he has left. And the mission is all he has.

✦ Make It Up as We Go Along by hannahrhen, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, mildly nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.6k Steve’s a terrible liar when he opens his mouth. ✦ What’s in a name by Ark, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.4k Steve doesn’t resist. He is dipped back: a dance. “Bucky,” says Steve. The severely serene surface does not stir. “You will answer the questions I ask.” The Soldier’s voice is Bucky’s but the accent is all wrong. His face is Bucky’s, perfect, and all wrong. ✦ Drawn From Life by littlerhymes, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 2.5k “I remember,” Bucky says, but that’s not entirely true. Set after The Winter Soldier.

STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR: ✦ Coming Back by Emotionallyunstabl, entire cast (some steve/bucky), infinity war spoilers, 1.9k    Fixing Avengers: Infinity War. ✦ How ya been, Buck? by dvorahbee, steve/bucky, NSFW, infinity war spoilers, 2.3k    A fix-it for Bucky and Steve’s reunion because I wasn’t too happy with that half-assed reunion we had. ✦ hold some dirt with those hands by magdaliny, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 3k    It had sent him to his knees. ✦ To Never Have Loved At All by hitlikehammers, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 2.8k    Steve will say they had work to do, and a universe to put to rights. They had people to find and hearts to unbreak. They had a mission. There was no time for any of them to mourn. Steve, as it turns out, says a lot of things that are mostly bullshit.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY GEN FIC RECS: ✦ This, You Protect by owlet, steve & bucky & everyone else, humor, 64.3k The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect ✦ By Choice or By Habit by Sholio, steve & bucky & natasha & clint & tony, 6.4k He is useful. He holds onto that. He is useful and a useful tool will not be thrown away. (For illumynare’s request: How about something with Bucky realizing the Avengers actually think of him as a person? And off I went to the utterly shameless h/c place.) ✦ 5 (+1) Times Bucky Was Already a Supersoldier by chaya, steve & bucky, 1k Erskine made it plain for Steve - the serum makes you stronger, faster, harder to kill, and it amplifies your existing qualities. Barnes, though, didn’t get any such heads up. ✦ Thaw by danveresque, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 7.5k The Winter Soldier tries to find Bucky Barnes. ✦ Brothers In Arms by copperbadge, steve & bucky & sam & sam & tony & pepper & clint + background tony/pepper, 11.4k Bucky Barnes gets a tune-up, a new pet, and a home. ✦ You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter, bucky & avengers, fluff, 4.5k Bucky saved a tiny dinosaur and took her home to Avengers Tower and on the way remembered how to laugh and sleep in soft beds. ✦ Strawberries in Wintertime by Sholio, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & sharon, 3.2k Or, how Sam’s apartment turns into a hangout for superheroes, spies, and rogue assassins. ✦ This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond, steve & bucky + sam + natasha, 2.9k Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked. Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.

✦ Almond, Clavicle, Orchid by kvikindi, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 4.5k You say, “I don’t know what I am.” “It’s okay not to know,” Steve tells you. His face is very careful. But you know. You know that it’s not okay. ✦ you can’t fly on dinosaurs, bucky by scorpionbythesea, steve & bucky & clint, humor, 1.2k Based off the tumblr post by embracingthemadness and the tag that followed: steve and bucky making up random stories from their past and convincing the other avengers that it actually happened (◡‿◡✿) #there’s no way you guys fought nazi dinosaurs ✦ Fly on the Wings of Love by Omnicat, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & tony & clint + some background pairings, domesticity, 13.2k The Wings: Bucky just wants to show his appreciation for everything Sam has done for Steve. Of course, Tony Stark’s middle name is ‘needlessly difficult’. The Love: Bucky tries to set Natasha up with Sam. He’s a bit late for that party, but he managed to find Steve’s shield and replace Sam’s wings: he’ll come up with something for her. ✦ Swap by sparkles_stars, steve & bucky + avengers, body swap, 1.2k Steve and Bucky switch bodies. Nothing of substance happens from that moment on. ✦ Escape by Sholio, steve & bucky, 2.4k Missing scene for Captain America: The First Avenger – freeing the prisoners was just the start of getting away. ✦ think of it as personality dialysis by KiaraSayre, bucky & darcy, humor, 1.4k “I strangled someone with a shoelace once,” Barnes says. “Does that count as expressing myself through clothes?” “Uh, no.”

✦ Name, Rank, and Serial Number by forthegreatergood, steve & bucky + other marvel characters, 1.5k A Nazi peeling off his skin and declaring himself beyond human doesn’t even get a rise out of him anymore, but Bucky doesn’t think he could stand it if Steve ripped off his face, too. ✦ The Dawn of That Last Great Day by ignipes, steve & bucky + avengers + minor pairing references, the winter soldier speculation fic, 13.8k The Winter Soldier has a mission: kill Captain America. ✦ All The Leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove, bucky & tony + some tony/pepper + very mildly implied steve/bucky, 17.4k The Winter Soldier's mission is nearly complete. Howard and Maria Stark are dead, leaving him to dispatch their four-year-old child. One quick twist of the neck is all it will take, but the Soldier finds he cannot do it. So instead of killing Tony Stark, the Winter Soldier takes him away to raise as his own.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ so this is how it is by sciencemyfiction, steve & bucky & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ptsd, 29.1k Following the events of the Winter Soldier film, Steve and Sam finally find Bucky, and work to get back to a good place. ✦ On Your Left by TravelingRoses, steve & bucky & natasha & sam & tony thor & fury peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 12.9k Five times someone told Steve to give up looking for Bucky and two times someone didn’t. Alternately, five times someone smacked Steve on the head and said “Don’t do the thing” and he continued doing the thing and two times he listened so he could keep doing the thing. ✦ and i have fought (in flesh and blood) by ChristinasInferno, steve & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.1k “He is Bucky Barnes and his best friend is Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers is Captain America.” Bucky, post-Winter Soldier. ✦ The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins by Sholio, steve & bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k Steve starts to notice someone’s been in his apartment while he’s not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers. ✦ Glass of Milk by Lauralot, bucky & avengers, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k In which in the Winter Soldier is in the care of the Avengers. He has yet to regain his memories, but he has developed a fondness for dairy products.

[blindaysblogforturtles]

Everyone's doin it, why shouldn't I? I've got things to say! And unfortunately, Cass cant just draw as if she is a camera looking at them the whole time. So, we still get space for fic!

Hope you like it. It's like, the first time in months I finish a wip. And in record time! You did this, Cass. Thank you so much.

@somerandomdudelmao

It was happening. The red eared slider started small, and grew, and grew, and Donatello tightened his grip on the mug containing what was essentialy his brother's soul. He could allow him to go in, now. Just a little push.

But. What if something went wrong? What if Leo got lost in the way? What if he faded? He was stronger now, but still so fragile.

Raph smiled.

"Trust him, Donnie. He's got this." Raph avoided mentioning Mikey's concerns about the process, things he said only for the sake of confiding into someone else. It wouldn't do any good to make Donnie more anxious.

Donatello sighed and took his hand off the mug, using his ninpo to gently nudge Leo's into his new body. It rebelled, the little flame attached to his field. Scared. I don't want to be alone again, it said. Please. Donnie smiled. You won't. Trust me. He answered back. And after a few seconds of hesitation, the flame complied.

With the source in it, the body grows into the Leo he remembered. Or. Almost. He was healthy, because of course he was, he wasn't about to make a new body just for it to be shitty- but somehow smaller... thinner. Maybe he did something wrong- maybe, maybe Leo's soul didn't have enough energy to become himself-

But then he saw how Casey's eyes stared adoringly at the pod. Casey, who also had more scars and less pounds than he remembered. Donnie hadn't noticed much through his cameras- better yet, he had, but seeing it in person...

Suddently the alarm went off, signalling it was time to take his Lime-o-nardo Pie out of the oven. God, that was awful. Leo would absolutely love it.

With a gentleness only a biological body could muster, Raph lifted Nardo from his pod onto his arms, with a gaze so soft and proud Donnie thought he was about to cry.

They all hovered with warm smiles ready to welcome the leader in blue, barely containing the excitement in being all together again.

Except.

Nothing happened. Casey frowned and before Donnie could say or do anything, gently placed his fingers on his sensei's neck. He gasped.

"What? What happened?!" Raph asked barely below the yelling tone.

"His heartbeat." Casey replied in a whisper. "It's slow. Too slow." He looked at Donnie. "There's something wrong."

Raph quickly set Leo down after a quick nod from Donatello, who put on his goggles and started scanning to find whatever was his brother's ailment. A tense silence followed soon after.

"What... what is the problem?" Asked Casey. He was trembling into Raph's reassuring arms, never once looking away from his sensei. Donnie frowned.

"The good news is, nothing is physically wrong." He answered. "The bad news is, nothing's physically wrong."

There was a pregnant pause.

By Donnie's orders, Raph moved Leo to the place supposed to serve as his bedroom. Donnie tried every possible test he knew, from reflexes to blood test, to little slaps on his face, to begging. Leo's heartbeat was weak and frail. Like his ninpo had been.

This was all his fault. He should've given him more time, should've waited for Mikey to be healed enough to help, should've, should...

He punched Leo's chest, starling Raphael and Casey. They looked flabbergasted as he started doing compressions.

"I'm not letting you go, Nardo. Do you hear me? I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO!" He screamed. Death was not going to take him. He wouldn't let it happen.

So he kept on going, pressing. Forcing Leo's body to intake more air. Up, down, up, down.

Up, down.

But nothing changed in the five minutes it took for him to stop and realize he had been crying. Shit, he was crying in front of Casey. Fuck that, his brother was dying. No. No, no, he wasn't. Donnie could fix it, he could fix anything! There had to be another solution, something to keep him here, something Donnie could do. It didn't matter what, be it joke, scream, reveal his worst secrets, summon a demon with some dark ritual-

-wait. The memory ritual.

"That's it!" He yelled, and barked instructions around. Casey got started with Raph's assistance no questions asked. It was going to work. It had to.

Because he had no idea what to do if it didn't.

With the glowing lights and a final nod of confirmation, they started the ritual.

° ° °

Casey tightened his grip on Leonardo's unresponsive hand. He needed him back. He was 16, he still needed his best friend, his mentor, his sensei.

He felt tears prickle in his eyes. This was all so unfair. Everything was. Why did he have to be strong? Why did he have to see the apocalypse happen? Twice? Why did he have to watch his family die? He was watching him die for the second- the third time!

He had felt so alone here, with strangers wearing the faces of his family. Strangers he loved so dearly but couldn't show or tell. Only, now they could be together again. It was just Leo, now.

"You can't do this to me, sensei. You can't." He breathed. Because he promised to be there to see Casey grow up. He promised to train him until he didn't need him anymore.

But he still did. Now, more than ever. Still needed him as his best friend, as his mentor, teacher, his sensei.

His dad.

"I miss you, dad."

° ° °

It was cold. And surprisingly humid for a mind belonging to someone so heavily associated with fire. His feet touched the watery ground and he looked around.

There wasn't... anything here. Nothing useful, no sign of Leonardo's soul.

He started wandering, ocasionally calling for his brother.

"Leo? Nardo, are you here?" He walked around but saw nothing.

That is, until he looked down. Instead of a reflection, there he was. His twin. Mirrorring his actions and expressions like when they were tots.

"Leo! Leo, can you hear me?" He kneeled and touched the water. It was cool and shallow, but there was a force keeping him from getting in... or getting Leo out. He took notice of Leo mirrorring his expressions and punched the invisible wall. Nothing.

It was as if Leo didn't want to come with him.

"You aren't making things easy, Nardo."

The reflection- Leo just kept mimicking him. Donnie hissed. They had come too far for them to accept being only 3 now. He punched the water wall. They should never be less than 4. He needed. Punch. To get. Punch. His twin.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on!" Punch.

OUT!

The wall broke and without sparing a single second Donatello's hand searched and grabbed the collar of Leonardo's cape.

"Come here, you dumbass!" He pulled and finally - finally! - Leonardo in all his glowing and translucid and barely solid form came out of the water.

His eyes were angry and his face seemed hostile. If it was a mirror for Donnie's own features he didn't know, and it did NOT matter.

"You are coming with me and this is not up for discussion!"

He just snatched him completely from the water, glaring at its lifeless blue glow, barely registering the look of bewilderment and recognition that came across Leo's face.

"FUCK YOU, Death! I'm taking him!"

With his twin - his prize, his other half, his hope - in his arms, Donnie took impulse to leave that place. They were safe, it was going to be okay.

Leo's soul once again rebelled, reaching his armless nub towards the water. Home, his twin senses told him. Leo thought this was home.

"No, you idiot. I am taking you home."

Their eyes met. From the lifeless blue, the soul gripped his arm back and he tightened his hold. He knew that look. Hope. A ninja's greatest weapon, as cheesy as it sounds.

"Trust me, Nardo."

And with no need of words, he heard an answer.

"I do, Tello."

"I'll see you on the other side."

° ° °

Again, I hope you like it. I'm happy with the end result.

[bamsara]

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

[destinyisastar]

WIP DRABBLE: Daughter of Mine

I just registered for my spring classes, and I've been working on part 6 of Lost in your Love, but since it's not complete yet here's a little wip I've been working on, this isn't meant to be another series especially since I haven't finished the other one, I want to make this story longer but I wanted to see your opinions on this! (This is not a complete story!!) (Also please take this as a small apology for not posting often)

Alastor x Daughter Reader (PLATONIC!!!)

*Takes place during the pilot*

Summary: You are the daughter of the feared radio demon, Alastor. What happens when he returns from his seven-year absence and takes you to go work at a hotel ran by the Princess of Hell?

✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧

Walking through hell was no easy feat especially since The Radio Demon, your father, wasn’t by your side. Well, in front of you. He never liked standing near you, almost like your “weakness” would rub off on him.

You didn’t think you were weak but compared to him you felt rather small.

Small and…. weak.

Nothing.

You were nothing compared to the powerful Radio Demon, but that never really mattered to you.

The last seven years have gone agonizingly slow. You spent most of your time looking for your father but came up with nothing. He wasn’t dead, he’s too strong to die.

Sinners had started to go after you. Day after day, loan sharks…..sinners with screwed up deals…… literally all of pride ring. None of them got the best of you but you were tired.

Alastor hardly paid any attention towards you in hell, and in life? Well, he just placed you to the side. A little alibi, nothing more than a card up his sleeve.

But to you…. he was everything.

Giving you a home, a warm bed…. a chance to live.

He may not have wanted you in the first place, but you wanted to show him that you could truly be his daughter. However, there was a slight problem, you didn’t like his tendencies.

He took you to one of his hunting’s one day, you just thought he was hunting venison, but instead of a deer there was a man running with a limp.

●・○・●・○・●○●・○・●・○・●

 As your father began to load his gun you held his sleeve.

“W-what are you doing?! Aren’t you going to help him? He looks hurt.” You said quietly.

“Help? In a way daughter, I will be helping him.” You let go of his sleeve. “Now all you have to do is watch.”

The man slips and tries to crawl away as your father makes his way to him. Like a predator approaching its prey.

“STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE ALASTOR!! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!” cries the man.

“Filthy, a man with no manners, a man who is simply no man at all.” Alastor raises his gun to the man’s face, “You are nothing. You should be happy that I’ll be the one ending your life. You held no meaning on this earth. When you make it to hell…. make sure to write back!” A blast is shot through the man’s head.

You don’t move as Alastor drops the body down to you. “Why…why did you do this?!” Hands covering your eyes.

“This creature is filled with nothing but filth. Its best if your learned this early on.” Alastor removes your hands that cover your eyes. “Come along now.” He hands you the gun and you hold it.

Theres’s droplets of blood on it. You feel sick.

You hear the sound of the man being dragged by Alastor, the sound of Alastor calling for you to keep up.

Your father, a killer.

You run to catch up to Alastor, “W-what are you going to d-do now?”

“You’re going to help me bury the bastard.” He points to the shovel leaning on a tree.

Alastor grabs the shovel and places the man close to the tree, and he starts digging a hole, while you just stand there and watch.

Your father burying a body.

After he believes the grave is deep enough, Alastor climbs out of the hole and grabs the man by his arms, “Y/n, grab the man’s legs.” He must’ve done this before as he seems so calm.

Placing the gun on the ground you grab the man’s legs, but good god is this man heavy.

“Lift with your legs.”

You do as he says, but that doesn’t really make that man any less heavy, he’s just dead weight.

The man is finally placed in the grave, his limbs look wonky, you hold a hand to your stomach.

“Cover him up now, dear.” Alastor hands you the shovel and you just stare at him.

“Why?”

“I just did all the heavy work now, don’t be spoiled.” You take the shovel from him.

Shoveling dirt into the grave you wonder what the man did to deserve this, why your father killed him with such a twisted smile. Why your father is a killer. The man who taught you your manners, who tied your shoes, who cooked the most delicious meals.

A killer.

“How…how many have you killed?” you ask in a quiet voice.

Alastor cleans his gun with a handkerchief, “Over forty I believe.”

Over forty?!

“You’ve never been caught?” you ask looking at him as you finished covering the body.

Alastor tucks away the handkerchief in his pocket, “None have ever lived long enough to say another word.” He says smiling at you.

Goosebumps litter your arms as you take a look down at the ground before you.

He hands you the gun, “Not a bad job my dear, you’ll get better over time.”

Over time??

“What do you mean “over time”? "

Alastor walks into the forest “You’ll be helping me forevermore.”

You hold the gun and shovel tighter. “I don’t like this.”

“What?” He stands still facing away from you.

“I said I don’t like this! I don’t want to help you with your “hunts”!!”

Alastor just laughs, “Well, my dear you better get used to this,” He turns facing you with a grin, “You may have not realized it, but you were helping me all along.”

“What do you mean? I just found out today that you’re a serial killer!”

Alastor walks towards you, “My sweet, dear, daughter…. You’ve been my alibi”

“What?”

He puts his hands on your shoulders, “Do you really think I’ve truly been staying at the station writing scripts till eleven pm? You are a fool.”

“H-how could I have known that?!”

“Exactly why you are my perfect alibi!” he gives you a wide grin.

“What makes you think I won’t go tell the police right now?!”

He continues to smile at you, “I know you won’t, besides you helped me hide the body! Once they find your fingerprints on the weapons, they’ll take you away from me! You wouldn’t want that now, wouldn’t you?”

No, no you wouldn’t want that…. but…..

“Why did you bring me out here? Couldn’t you have done this all by yourself?”

“Can’t a father have some bonding activities with his daughter?” He walks away from you.

You care very deeply for your father but …… he’s not a good person.

●・○・●・○・●○●・○・●・○・●

Sitting in your living room with a book in your hand, you feel as if something is about to happen, but this hell anything can come crashing through the door, nothing really surprises you anymore.

The turn of the knob is what straightens you up. The door. The door is opening. Who would dare open the home of the feared Radio Demon?!

You stand up quickly, quietly walking to the end of the hall.

“My, my you’ve been keeping the place spick and span!”

That voice….its coming from the kitchen.

“Why are you hiding? Come on out now! I can hear your heartbeat dear!”

You step into the kitchen and are met with the face of your father, Alastor.

“Oh, good to see you again my dear daughter, it has been a looooong time aha!” He pats your head, “Come along now I have a special project I’ll be working on, and I want you to be there!” He pulls you by the arm, summoning you into the shadows with him, but before the shadows can fully consume you, you pull yourself away from him.

Alastor huffs, “Don’t toy with me right now.”

You turn away from him.

“I understand you have questions but all can be answered at a later time, for right now we are going to be working with the princess, won’t that be fun!?!”

You glare at him.

“Ohho! What’s that now?” He tilts his ears to you, “Cat got your tongue?!”  He laughs.

Of course, he would make fun of you for not speaking, I mean, how could you?

You have no voice.

Seems like keeping a secret that your father was a serial killer would come back and bite you in the ass in hell.

Yet you still cared for him, he was you father after all.

“Come along child, there’s much work to be done at her so called “hotel” … Its quite pathetic really a place for sinners to be redeemed! Ohho! How lonesome it all sounds! Nothing could save the sinners down here!”

Can sinners be redeemed? No, if they made it to hell then surely there must be a reason for it. You could honestly say that Alastor would not be redeemed…. you wouldn’t be redeemed either, even if redemption was real.

Sighing you allow Alastor to pull you into the shadows. Once you both are out of the darkness you look up towards the sign labeled “Happy Hotel”. The name does need some work.

Alastor knocks on the door and just as quickly as it was open it was shut…. then opened again and…shut. It was quite funny. It was opened once more but not shutting this time. It was the princess who opened the door and Alastor quickly introduced himself and let himself in with you falling behind.

“Oh, hello there! Are you looking to be redeemed???!!!” The princess asks with a look of excitement in her eyes.

You just stare at her for a moment but then shake your head then point to your father.

“Huh?”

“Whoops forgot to introduce her here! Ahaha!” Alastor grabs your shoulders from behind, “This little one here is my daughter, Y/n, she’ll also be here for your assistance, if you allow for me to help in your little hotel!”

“Oh, hello! My name’s Charlie! It’s nice to meet you!” She raises her hand.

You shake her hand with a nod.

“Jeez, what’s with you kid? Ain’t got no tongue?” asked the spider fellow in the lounge area.

“Ahah! Funny! You see my darling daughter here cannot speak! Ahah!”

The spider fellow cringed a bit, but it’s nothing new to you, you find it a bit funny.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!!” says Charlie. “I hope I didn’t offend you!”

You shake your head once more, patting her hand, giving her a smile.

“Now that we got you introduced how about we,” He faces Charlie, “make a deal?”

“Nope! No deal!”

As your father and the princess spoke you heard the other two sinners speaking about Alastor.

“You seriously never heard of him?! You’ve been here longer than me!” says the one with long hair, you believe the princess called her Vaggie.

“Not much into politics.”

Vaggie went on to explain your father’s wrath and how he should absolutely not be trusted.

Which was true, you will not deny her that.

“Okay... but what about the kid?”

The conversation turned towards you now

“I actually don’t really know about her… Hey!” You turn around to face Vaggie, “Can you come here for a second?” You walk over to them.

“Your name is Y/n, right?” asked Vaggie.

You nod.

“Is that strawberry pimp actually your dad?” The spider points at your father.

Again, you nod.

“That guy definitely doesn’t look the like the dad type, you sure he didn’t ask for your soul or something?”

In a way he did, but in hell terms no. You shake your head.

“What’s he actually planning huh? What does he want with this place?” Vaggie places her hands on your shoulders.

You would also like the answers to those questions, but you just give a shrug instead.

Nifty and Husker are summoned shortly after the small conversation between the princess and your father. And of course, your father has to be dramatic as he goes into song.

However, in the middle of his song the front entrance doors are blasted off heading straight towards Nifty.

-------INCOMPLETE------

✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧

Sooo how was this?

destinyisastar 2024

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

So thank you love @lovanmari for dragging me away from my humble ditch to finish this wip that I have not looked at for over a year (maybe more I don’t even remember.)

Plus my recent rewrite for Hyrule really made me wanna write more about him and his interactions with his Fae Fam~

Yandy! You may recall the start of this wip!

Anywho, enjoy folks!

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.

.

At first, it seemed like she was merely under the weather.

There was nothing to suggest it was anything more serious. She brushed off any concerns, always giving them a reassuring smile that never quite reached her eyes.

Days passed, and her condition worsened. Her skin grew clammy, and she started to withdraw more often.

She tried to push through, to hide her growing discomfort.

Her fever spiked suddenly one evening while she was helping Wind gather wood. She stumbled, her breath coming in shallow gasps, before collapsing against a tree with a pained whimper. She curled into herself, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shook from the fever's relentless assault.

It was Twilight who reached her first, gathering her up in his arms and holding her close as the others rushed to make camp.

His heart pounded with fear as she trembled in his arms, her body so limp it was terrifying. Warriors and Time raced into the nearby town for medicine, while Four and Wind stayed behind with Twilight, trying to bring her some relief.

Hyrule had been the first to try and heal her, pouring every ounce of magic he had into her weakened body. But the illness that plagued her was stubborn, festering in a way his magic couldn’t entirely purge.

His hands soon trembled with exhaustion as he continued to try, his magic flickering like a dying flame. When he finally collapsed, drained and pale, Warriors and Time forced him to sleep, both men looking shaken by how serious things had gotten.

The camp was quiet now, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the occasional murmur of wind through the trees. Four sat beside her, watching the sweat bead across her brow, his own fear tightening around his chest. Her skin burned to the touch, and her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.

His fingers carded through her damp hair in an attempt to soothe her when she suddenly stirred, blinking up at him with glassy, fever-bright eyes.

“You... guys… always do everything... for nothing,” she muttered weakly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Shh,” Four hushed her gently, adjusting her so she could sit up and drink some water. He raised the bottle to her lips, helping her take a few slow sips. “Don’t talk. You need to rest.”

“No...” she slurred, her words thick with exhaustion and fever, her gaze unfocused. “You... you do so much. Get hurt. Fight... And no one ever thanks you.”

Four swallowed hard, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. “That’s not true. We’ve been thanked plenty of times.”

“No...” She shook her head, her movements sluggish. “No one sees you... they see the hero... just the hero.” Her breath hitched as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You get hurt for people... and they don’t see how much it costs.”

Four’s brow furrowed, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He tried to brush it off, to deflect with his usual gentle humor, but the raw pain in her voice made it impossible. She wasn’t thinking straight, delirium clouded her mind, but there was truth buried in her fevered rambling. He stayed silent, not sure what to say.

“It’s not fair...” she whispered, her voice cracking as her tears began to fall faster. “It’s not fair what you’ve been through. It’s not right...”

“(Y/n)...” Four’s voice was soft, barely audible over her quiet sobs. He rested his hand on her arm, trying to ground her.

“I don’t want you to do this if it’s just because you have to,” she whimpered, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his tunic. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Four’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, her words hitting him harder than any enemy ever could. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a trembling sob.

“I hate it... I hate that no one ever told you... it’s unfair. What happened to you... to all of you. It’s not right.”

Her grip on his tunic tightened, her fevered mind pushing her emotions to the surface. She was breaking down in front of him, unraveling at the seams, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Don’t cry...” Four whispered, his voice cracking. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry...” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry you gave up so much... for a world that only wants you to fight their battles for them.”

Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Four felt something inside him shift, like the walls he kept around his heart were starting to crack.

Suddenly, her hand reached out, and she brought his fingers to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. The small gesture nearly shattered him.

“I can’t... fix this...” she whispered, her voice so faint he barely heard it.

"It’s alright, please understand that," Four said softly, his voice trembling, his control over his emotions slipping.

Vio’s presence immediately took over as the rest of the colors allowed him full control, he gently laid her back down.

She weakly protested, trying to stay awake, but Vio’s gentle assertiveness soothed her into submission.

He tucked her under the blankets, his eyes watching her every move, noting the way her body still shivered from the fever.

"It’s not fair..." she mumbled one last time before finally slipping into a fitful sleep.

Vio stood, expression unreadable as he watched over her. "No," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "It’s not fair."

——

——

They had all promised her it would pass soon, and she believed them, trying to put on a brave face and push through. But as the days stretched on, her strength slipped away bit by bit.

Despite their reassurances, she grew weaker. Then, she needed help just to stand up after resting, and eventually, even sipping water became impossible without assistance.

They would guide the cup to her lips, murmuring words of encouragement, but her hands shook too much to hold it herself. She could barely swallow without wincing, each small action taking all of her energy. The cold bite of the world touching her skin was nothing compared to the fire in her veins.

And still, they kept their promises. They told her she would get better, that they’d find a way.

But no matter how brave a face they put on when she was awake, when her eyes closed, their masks slipped. Desperation took hold.

And she could sense it, the fraying edges of their composure, the way their voices wavered when they thought she wasn’t listening. When they thought she was fully asleep.

Hyrule was the worst of them. He was burning through his magic faster than anyone could stop him, draining potions to the last drop to restore his strength.

He would kneel at her side, whispering incantations, hands glowing as he tried to heal her. Every time, the warmth of his magic brought a brief flicker of relief.

The pain would ebb just for a moment, and she could breathe easier, but the reprieve never lasted. As soon as the magic faded, the agony crashed back into her, harsher than before.

She didn’t blame him. How could she? She could see the way his eyes dimmed with every failed attempt, the way his hands shook as he poured every last ounce of himself into trying to save her.

Even when she weakly begged him to stop to not drain himself so harshly, Warriors pulling him back to rest and Time stepping in with stern words, Hyrule fought to stay awake, refusing to give up.

He looked at her with such sorrow, as if he were the one hurting her.

But it wasn’t his fault. She wanted to tell him, to tell all of them, that none of this was their fault.

Even if they were blaming themselves for her suffering, she didn’t hold any of it against them. How could she, when they were trying so hard? When every one of them was wearing themselves thin just to keep her alive?

They didn’t sleep. Not really. Twilight kept watch over her when she drifted off, his eyes never leaving her face.

Wild hovered nearby, fingers itching to fix something, anything, even though there was nothing for him to do. Time and Warriors were constant pillars of the group, keeping the busy so they didn’t stew in their anxiety, but she could feel the weight of their worry pressing down like a storm cloud about to burst.

The only time they ever showed how close they were to breaking was when they thought she couldn’t see, when they thought she was lost in the haze of fever or unconscious from exhaustion.

But she saw it. She saw the way Four clenched his fists, the way Wind paced, muttering curses under his breath.

Even Legend, normally so composed, had moments where he faltered.

And Hyrule... Hyrule’s guilt was eating him alive.

He would sit by her side, barely holding back his frustration, his despair. His magic, the one thing that had always brought hope, couldn’t heal her, and he couldn’t bear it.

But even in her haze, even as the pain throbbed in every corner of her body, she didn’t blame them. Not for a second.

They had done everything they could.

——

——

The days stretched into a blur of desperation, punctuated by moments of gut-wrenching fear and fleeting hope. It had been nearly a week since her illness took a turn for the worse. A week since they’d been scrambling to keep her alive. Despite their best efforts, (y/n) was slipping further from them each day.

The nearby village’s only doctor was useless, simply stating that it was like nothing he had ever seen, and that chances of recovery were most certainly slim to none.

Her condition deteriorated quickly. What started as extreme exhaustion had now left her bedridden, her body trembling fiercely and her skin becoming pale as wax.

Every breath seemed like a struggle, every movement too much for her body to bear. The fever raged, unrelenting, burning her from the inside. And as her strength faded, so did the light in their eyes.

Hyrule had become a shadow of himself. He hadn’t slept in days unless it was from passing out, his magic reserves draining back to empty the moment he woke up and crawled back to her.

Each time he used his healing magic, it took more out of him, the toll becoming increasingly visible. His skin was drawn, dark circles etched under his eyes, and his hands trembled as he worked tirelessly over her. His breathing was shallow, his body aching from the strain, but still, he refused to stop.

They all knew he was pushing himself too far, but no one could bring themselves to intervene. Not when the fear that they would lose her loomed over them all like a dark cloud.

Twilight, Wind, Four and Legend had taken on the task of gathering supplies, disappearing to the nearby town almost every day.

They were the fastest, the ones who could sneak in and out with ease. At first, they had relied on buying potions and medicine, but as time wore on, the merchant began to see their desperation, raising his prices to absurd levels.

It didn’t take long for the group to abandon any notion of paying fairly.

Twilight would distract the merchant with a pleasant smile, while Four split up to keep watch as Wind and Legend slipped behind the stalls, taking what they needed without hesitation. It wasn’t theft, not really. Not when the merchant had already tried to scam them.

It was necessary. They couldn’t afford to waste time arguing over prices when every second mattered.

But despite their efforts, the potions barely made a difference. At best, they gave (y/n) temporary relief, literal moments where her breathing eased and the pain receded, but it returned worse than before. The illness had taken a vicious hold, tightening its grip with every passing day.

Warriors and Time kept watch over Hyrule, though neither could hide their growing frustration.

They’d tried to reason with him, tried to force him to rest, if only so he had the strength to continue later, but Hyrule wouldn’t listen.

His stubbornness had reached a new height, fueled by the guilt eating away at him. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.

“She’ll get better,” he insisted through chapped lips, his voice hoarse and trembling with exhaustion. “I just need... I need more time. Please, just... give me more time.”

But even as he said it, they could see the cracks forming. He was running on empty, his body barely holding up under the strain. And still, (y/n)’s condition worsened.

She couldn’t even open her eyes anymore, her body too weak to respond to their voices. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her fevered mind lost in a haze of pain.

When she was awake, she tried to smile at them, tried to offer some kind of comfort despite her suffering. But they could see the truth, she was fading. Her brightness was slipping away, and no matter how hard they fought, it felt like they were losing her.

At night, when they thought she was too far gone to notice, they let their masks drop completely.

Twilight paced restlessly by the fire, his fists clenched as he stared into the flames, guilt gnawing at him for not being able to protect her.

Wind and Four sat beside her, their usually carefree demeanor replaced with silent, tear-filled eyes as they held her hand and brushed her hair back, whispering to her with voices so soft it barely reached the others.

Warriors stood guard, his jaw set, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep as he stared out into the night, waiting for the moment when everything would crumble.

And Time... Time sat at her side, his calloused hand holding hers, as if he could anchor her to the world with his presence alone. He was silent, his expression unreadable, but the tightness in his grip betrayed his fear.

Legend wasn’t any better. He sat farther away from the rest but still close to her, his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes never left her. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his composure. He couldn’t lose her. None of them could.

But with each passing day, that fear became more real. More suffocating.

One evening, when the others had gone to town again, Hyrule collapsed beside her, his magic finally failing him.

He was unconscious before they could reach him, his body giving out from the constant use of his power. Warriors was the one to scoop him up and lay him beside her, his expression grim.

“We can’t keep this up,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “We’re losing her and with the rate the Traveler is going, we’ll lose both of them.”

Twilight, who had been silent for hours, finally spoke. His voice was rough, filled with raw, unfiltered fear.

“Then we find another way. I won’t let her die.”

No one argued, but the despair was written on all their faces.

They had to find another way. But what? How long could they keep running to town, stealing potions, praying for a miracle that never seemed to come?

How long could they keep up the façade that everything would be okay when every moment felt like she was slipping further away from them?

——

——

The atmosphere around the camp had become oppressive, a heavy, choking tension that none of them could shake.

The sound of their own thoughts was deafening, and yet, no one dared to speak much. Not anymore. Not when every word felt like a countdown to the inevitable.

(y/n) was still hanging on, barely, her shallow breaths echoing through the campsite. But the fear that she could slip away at any moment had taken its toll on all of them.

Their once seamless movements now seemed jagged and unnatural.

Twilight’s steps, once so sure and steady, had grown erratic, his pacing more frantic as the days passed. He muttered under his breath, words lost to the wind as his gaze flitted between the dying fire and (y/n)’s prone form.

The others weren’t much better. Four’s usual sharp, observant eyes had grown wild, darting to every shadow as if waiting for something, anything, to happen. He often caught himself muttering to himself, strange fragmented thoughts that would normally never see the light of day.

Warriors sat apart from the rest, fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach for his sword at every sound. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a subtle but constant reminder of his fraying patience.

Legend, normally quick with his sarcasm or a biting comment, was eerily silent, his hands wringing the edge of his tunic over and over again. His eyes were dark, haunted, as if he were seeing something none of the others could.

Even Time, ever the rock of the group, had begun to slip. His movements were mechanical, too precise to be natural, his expression cold and distant.

But it was his eyes that gave him away, those sharp, calculating eyes now flickered with something wild, something desperate.

And then there was Hyrule.

Hyrule, who had been the most drained, the most exhausted, suddenly seemed to be... different.

He was still pale, his face hollowed from the constant exertion of his magic, but something about him had changed. He was oddly focused, his gaze distant but intensely sharp, as if picking up on something the others couldn’t see.

He sat by (y/n)’s side more often now, his eyes narrowing as he stared out into the distance, as though something was calling to him. The others noticed it too. the way he seemed unsettled, the way his fingers twitched as if itching to reach for something just out of his grasp. Sometimes, he would mutter to himself, low enough that only those closest could hear.

“This place... I swear there’s something familiar here,” he whispered one night, his voice barely above a breath. “Something I’ve seen before... felt before... but I don’t know why.”

The others exchanged glances, but were too focused on (y/n) to dwell on it.

Still, there was something about the way Hyrule had begun to withdraw, something in his eyes that made them uneasy.

He was debating something in his mind, that much was clear. But no one dared to ask.

Then, one night, (y/n)’s breathing had faltered. Just for a moment. Just long enough to send them all into a spiral of panic.

Hyrule had rushed to her side, using what little magic he had recovered to try and stabilize her. She’d slipped back into unconsciousness, her body colder than before.

The scare left them shaken to their core, but it was Hyrule who seemed the most affected.

That night, he hadn’t spoken. He’d sat silently by the fire, staring into the flames, his expression tight, his eyes distant. The others tried to talk to him, to see if he was alright, but he gave nothing away. No one pressed further.

The next morning, he was gone.

It was Twilight who noticed first, his eyes scanning the camp as he called out for Hyrule, his voice laced with frustration. But there was no answer. He wasn’t there. His bag, his supplies, everything was gone, as if he had vanished into thin air.

It didn’t take long for the others to realize what had happened, and soon the camp was filled with the sounds of heated whispers, their voices low but tense.

“Where the hell did he go?” Legend hissed, his hands shaking as he raked them through his hair. “He wouldn’t just leave, not without saying something.”

“He was acting weird,” Wind muttered, pacing again, his movements jerky. “He was muttering about something being familiar. Maybe he went to find it.”

“Find what?” Warriors snapped, his voice sharp. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, the village is useless cause it’s so small it doesn’t even have a doctor, and (y/n) could die any second. He knows that!”

“I don’t know!” Wild shot back, his voice strained. “But something’s not right. He’s been pushing himself too hard.”

“We all have,” Time said quietly, his voice calm, though his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his sword. “But abandoning us? Abandoning her? There’s no excuse.”

Twilight growled under his breath, his hands clenched into fists. “We need him. We can’t—"

“Maybe he found something,” Sky interrupted, his voice quieter but no less tense. “Something he didn’t want to say in front of us.”

“Or maybe he’s finally lost it,” Warriors muttered darkly. “We all know how much he’s been using his magic. It could’ve driven him over the edge.”

The argument continued, their voices rising and falling as they debated what to do. But underneath it all, the fact was clear.

Hyrule was gone by his own free will.

And if they couldn’t find him, or if he didn’t come back soon, (y/n) might be gone too.

——

——

Without Hyrule, (y/n)‘s moments of respite were non-existent.

The group fell deeper into despair. Every breath (y/n) took sounded weaker, raspier, her skin pale and cold to the touch. They tried to stay strong, but the strain showed.

Time and Warriors rarely spoke now, their grim expressions enough to convey the gravity of the situation.

Twilight remained as Wolfie, using his heightened senses in an attempt to monitor (y/m)’s withering condition.

Four kept snapping at anyone who hesitated too long to do something for her, and Legend, normally so composed, spent hours quietly sitting by (y/n)'s side, holding her hand as if sheer will alone could keep her with them.

One evening, as the group huddled in the camp’s dim light, Wild finally whispered what they all dreaded to hear.

"I can’t give her any more potions or elixirs," he murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "They aren’t working anymore."

His words hung in the air like a death sentence. No one wanted to acknowledge it, but they all knew. The potions weren’t helping. Nothing was helping. Yet even so, they whispered to her in the dark, their voices shaky and tearful.

"Just a little longer, okay?" Twilight would plead softly. "You’re strong. You can fight this."

Legend would gently press his forehead against (y/n)’s, his voice breaking. "Don’t leave us. Please. We need you."

But deep down, they all feared it was too late.

——

——

Hyrule returned.

He stumbled into the camp just as the group braced themselves for the possibility of that (y/n) wouldn’t survive that night.

His sudden appearance should have brought relief, but instead, it ignited anger. The others turned on him, their eyes wild with rage and fear.

"Where were you?" Legend hissed, storming up to him, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic, his voice shaking with rage and betrayal.

"How could you abandoned her!" Four cried out, fists balled up tightly.

"How could you leave?" Warriors snarled. "We needed you, SHE needed you!"

Hyrule, however, was too exhausted to flinch from their words. He stood before them, pale and bloodied, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness. But despite his worn appearance, his gaze was resolute.

"I didn’t want to leave," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But… I’m glad I did."

Before anyone could respond viciously to that, Hyrule raised his hands, and with a pulse of his magic, rejuvenated and contrary to his physical condition, the air around them filled with soft, melodic chimes.

Time, Legend, and Warrior’s eyes widened, immediately recognizing the sound for what it was.

A moment later, the area around them lit up, as the sly was filled with a swarm of fairies, their wings shimmering like tiny stars as they descended upon (y/n), surrounding her with gentle light.

The fairies whispered soothing words, their voices like the rustle of leaves in a breeze, comforting both the group and (y/n), even though she remained unconscious.

The warmth of their magic radiated outward, the oppressive weight of the situation lifting as they began to work.

"It was a curse disguising itself as an illness," Hyrule explained, his voice faint from exhaustion. " and I could feel something off since we arrived here. Something... familiar. I didn’t understand it at first. But it clicked eventually.“

He looked up at the sky for a moment, “This place... it’s MY Hyrule, but so far into the future that I didn’t recognize it. But the pulse of magic... that, I knew."

He swayed slightly, catching himself before he fell. "I gambled. Left to investigate, and I was right. I found the Great Fairy Fountain in the same place it’s always been."

His lips curved into a small, weary smile. "To this land, it had been so long. But to her, I was only gone for a short while, despite the centuries that have passed between our time jumps. She agreed to help me... to help her." He glanced at (y/n), whose skin now glowed faintly beneath the soft light of the fairies. "Her daughters came with me, but the Great Mother has requested we bring (y/n) to the fountain so she can personally aid in her recovery."

The group stared in stunned silence, their emotions torn between anger, relief, and disbelief. The sight of the fairies working on (y/n), their gentle magic already combating the curse, was a miracle they had barely dared to hope for.

"I’m sorry," Hyrule said desperately as Legend’s hand let go of his tunic, his voice breaking from the tears he was holding back, barely above a whisper. "I did what I had to do... but I…I just couldn’t keep add it without searching for an actual solution. To actually make sure she pulls through."

As the fairies continued to work, a glimmer of hope returned to the now silent group.

——

——

Twilight and Warriors had barely exchanged words as they approached the merchant's stall. The merchant, initially wary but hopeful for a profitable exchange, quickly realized his mistake when Twilight’s eyes narrowed and Warriors' grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

"We’re borrowing your cart," Warriors had stated coldly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. Twilight’s hand hovered threateningly near his own blade, the intent clear. There would be no payment, no bargaining. They would be taking the cart, and the merchant wouldn’t stop them.

The merchant, pale and trembling, simply nodded, backing away as the two heroes secured the cart to Epona, ignoring the man's feeble protests.

When they returned to the camp, Twilight, with Hyrule’s careful guidance, gently placed (y/n) inside the cart. Her fragile body was carefully cushioned by blankets, and even then, she barely stirred.

The fairies flitted around her constantly, their magic a steady hum as they continued to combat the curse.

With everyone in place, Epona began to pull them toward the Great Fairy’s fountain.

Twilight, walking beside his loyal steed, murmured soothing words to the horse as they made their way through the winding paths, Hyrule sitting in the cart with (y/n), his focus entirely on her, the weight of his exhaustion finally showing but his resolve never faltering.

At the Great Fairy’s fountain, the air shimmered with an otherworldly light. As they arrived, the Great Fairy emerged from the glimmering waters, her presence overwhelming yet comforting.

Without a word, she extended her arms toward (y/n), and with a soft pulse of magic, (y/n)’s body floated from the cart, suspended in a gentle glow. She was carefully placed in the pool of water and magic, her limp form cradled by the shimmering light as the curse continued to be fought off.

Days passed. The Chain set up camp near the fountain, watching anxiously as the fairies and the Great Fairy worked tirelessly to heal (y/n).

Slowly, ever so slowly, the signs of improvement became visible. Her once pale complexion began to warm, her breathing grew steadier, and the oppressive weight of the curse lessened.

But exhaustion took its toll on the group. One by one, the others succumbed to sleep, their bodies and minds drained from days of fear and desperation.

Only Hyrule remained awake, too restless, too vigilant to allow himself the luxury of sleep. He sat near the water’s edge, watching over (y/n) as she floated peacefully in the glowing pool.

Then, in the stillness of the night, (y/n) stirred.

Hyrule’s eyes widened as he saw her eyelids flutter weakly.

For a brief, fleeting moment, her eyes opened, just a sliver, as if she was struggling to take in her surroundings. Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat as he knelt closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Shhhhh…” He gently hushed, as if trying to calm whatever unease she may currently feel, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. "You’re safe now. Everything is going to be alright."

Her eyes, though heavy with fatigue, seemed to register his words. A faint glimmer of recognition passed through them before they fluttered shut again, her body relaxing as though she had accepted his promise.

Hyrule let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief washing over him. She was still with them. She was fighting, and now, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it seemed like she might win.

——

——

The Great Fairy watched (y/n) in her pool of magic and water, her ethereal face softening with a sense of quiet awe. "I must say, her will is extraordinary," she murmured, her voice like the chime of delicate bells. "The curse was designed to break the will of its victim, to erode their strength of spirit until nothing remained. But this one... she fought it. Every moment. Impressive."

Hyrule, still weary and bloodied from his desperate journey, glanced down at (y/n) with a tender smile. "That’s just who she is," he replied quietly. "She’s always surprising us. Always pushing through the impossible." His voice softened, a note of fondness threading through it. "It’s one of the things I love about her."

The Great Fairy tilted her head, her knowing eyes gleaming with amusement, but she said nothing, turning instead to watch her daughters as they continued to flutter around (y/n), their magic mingling with her own. Though the power they offered was unnecessary now, their presence was comforting, both to (y/n) and the Chain. The fairies worked with gentle grace, their whispered words soft like a lullaby.

Hyrule glanced at the others, still slumbering deeply by the fountain, drained from days of anxiety and fear. He didn’t tell them about (y/n)’s brief moment of consciousness earlier. He knew it would only upset them that they hadn’t been there to witness it, to share in the small flicker of hope.

And so, he kept it to himself, watching over her as she grew stronger with each passing day. The curse slowly unraveled, her body regaining warmth and color, her breathing steadying until, one day, her eyes opened again.

It was brief, just a few minutes, but enough to soothe the raw edges of their hearts. She was weak, her voice barely above a whisper, but the warmth in her eyes as she looked at each of them melted the tension that had kept them on edge.

"I'm okay," she whispered, her words fragile but filled with reassurance. "I’m alright now." Her hand trembled as she reached out, and Wild was the first to take it, tears threatening to spill over as he squeezed her hand tightly.

"We were so scared..." Warriors muttered, voice rough with emotion as he knelt beside her, his mask of stoic composure cracked. "You had us worried, Dear Heart."

She offered them a faint, tired smile. "I’m sorry... but it’s alright now, right? You’re all safe. I’m safe."

They all gathered around her, voices gentle but urgent as they reassured her it was alright now, that she was safe, and they would never let something like this happen again.

As days passed, her strength gradually returned, and the nights became less suffocating as she was slowly tugged away from death’s door.

One evening, while the others slept, (y/n) remained awake, her body finally strong enough to allow her more moments of clarity. Hyrule was keeping watch, sitting quietly by the edge of the campfire, when her soft voice broke the stillness.

"Hyrule..." she murmured, her eyes half-lidded but focused on him.

He quickly moved to her side, concern flashing across his face. "What is it? Are you alright?"

She smiled, small but genuine, and it reached her eyes, softening the tired lines etched into her face. "I just... I wanted to thank you. Even when I didn’t know where I was, when it felt like everything was trying to pull me away, I always had this sense of…you. Of you right by my side."

….what..?

Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat, his heart clenching at her words.

She…had felt him?

“I didn’t know how I knew it was you. But I knew. You have no idea how much that helped.”

She had known he had been there? That he had fought the curse every step of the way?

She chuckled weakly, though it was more of a breathy laugh than anything, but there was joy in it. "Now I know how Twilight felt when he was bedridden. It’s not fun being the one to almost die."

Hyrule couldn’t help but smile back, a quiet chuckle escaping him despite the weight of the past days. He gently took her hand, holding it between his own as he replied, "You were never alone. Not for a second. Never."

She squeezed his hand, her strength fragile but there.

As (y/n)’s eyes grew heavier, she gave Hyrule a weak but sincere smile. “Thank you... for never giving up on me...” she whispered, her voice barely audible, each word a fragile breath. “Not once…”

Hyrule’s heart clenched as the words hit him, the gratitude and warmth in her tone making his chest tighten painfully. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The emotion swelling within him was too strong, and he could only manage a soft, shaky breath.

“Rest,” he whispered instead, his voice tender, barely holding back his tears. “I’ll watch over you. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, her stamina finally spent, and her breathing evened out into the quiet rhythm of sleep. Hyrule stayed there, staring at her for a long moment, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall.

After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head, his gaze shifting to the Great Fairy who had been watching the exchange with a gentle, knowing smile. Her eyes glimmered with warmth, and the soft chime of her magic hummed in the air, as comforting as a lullaby.

“She... she thanked me,” Hyrule whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he sniffled. “I... I did a good job. I helped...”

His voice was fragile, raw with relief and exhaustion, and as he spoke, he let the weight of everything he had been holding in finally settle. He had helped. He had made a difference.

The Great Fairy’s soft, melodic chime filled the air, and with it, a pulse of magic swept gently over him, a warm wave of love and affection that radiated through his entire being.

The sensation was so soothing, so full of comfort, that even the other sleeping heroes unconsciously relaxed, their bodies softening in their sleep as if the magic had touched them too.

Hyrule sniffled again, wiping at his eyes as he gave the Great Fairy a grateful, tearful smile. He had helped. He had done his part to save her, and now, she was going to be alright.

Everything was going to be okay.

[xxnashiraxx]

WIP Wednesday - Kinktober Teaser (2)

I don't want to reveal this prompt yet because I'm still working out the kinks (haha I'm so funny), but it may be giving itself away here a little bit. Or it could still be mysterious!

I am hoping to post it this weekend, maybe Sunday in lieu of a WSTFMD chapter since the release schedule changed. It all depends on how I feel after I get back home from visiting relatives (and if I actually finish by then)! But the good news is I have 2,500+ words so far and I've barely even scratched the surface of the smut, so there's that to look forward to if you so choose. 💕

Enjoy! (subject to chaaange minorly)

“Astarion… what happened? Are you okay?” She asks, watching his head cock to the side as he listens to her. Her worry blossoms into unease as he remains silent, taking one careful step toward her. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck raise in response, but she holds her ground, careful to keep him cradled in her gaze as she notices two other large masses of fur behind the one he’d been hovering over. God, he’d taken down more than one? Her heart aches for him and as she refocuses on him she notices he’s covered the gap about five feet, so close she can see the stillness of his chest and the light wounds over his skin more clearly. “Please talk to me-” He snarls and she clamps her mouth shut, eyes widening. It’s too late to get away. He’s too close- too fast. He’ll be on her in a moment, and for some reason, he isn’t recognizing her. There’s an animalistic gleam to his eyes- sharp and keen as a predator tracking its prey. She feels her throat close and her pulse speed up frantically, watching in horror as he scents the air and gnashes his teeth. Shit. She turns on her heel despite every hiking guide she’s ever read telling her to always back away slowly- they always say that, what is she thinking? “Okay- I’m sorry! But can you please snap out of it? I can’t run faster than you!” She shouts over her shoulder, cursing her stupid sandals as they obstruct her leaps and bounds. She tears off in the direction of camp she has a vague recollection of, though truth be told, she’s too turned around and shaken by her lover’s strange shift in behavior to recall which way she’d come from. She can hear him behind, footfalls light but deafening in the quiet of the trees. She heaves for breath, lungs burning, terror closing around her rapidly beating heart. He’s so close that she can smell the blood in the air and the scent of his perfume, beckoning to her. She chances a glance, instantly regretting it when she trips over a tree root and falls flat on her stomach into the damp soil and leaves. “Ah!” She cries when he overtakes her, chest pressed against her back and hands closing like a vice over her arms as he holds her down. It hurts, especially the way his knees pinch her waist and her wrist bones grind together, gasping for air under the weight of him. Her cheek is barely cushioned by her hair and she looks up at him, eyes wide as his eerie, vacant red orbs spear through her. His lips part to reveal his fangs, the pair at the bottom elongated to match and shining in the dim light from above as his blood-stained tongue flashes over them. She’s never felt so afraid- every nerve ending wired and circulating adrenaline at the speed of light. “Astarion, please,” She pleads, whimpering when he tightens his grip on her arms. He lowers his face until she can feel his frigid breath against her neck, moist and fanning over her ear and upper back. He growls, low and gravelly, before opening his jaw wide. “No!” She shuts her eyes, bracing for the killing bite, but it doesn’t come. His lips find the mark he’d left her with earlier in the night, mouthing at it as a soft whine leaves his throat. He’s… never made that sound before… She shivers when his fangs press over the indents and his hands start to unclench, body slipping over hers until one knee presses between her thighs and nudges them open. Oh.

If you guys have anything you'd like to share! 💕 I crave your writing!

@khywren @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @ladyduellist @kalmiaphlox @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @preciouslittlebhaalbae @roguishcat @pinkberrytea

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 3/3

Hey, lookit! I finished a one-shot! Yes, I know three chapters is not a one-shot, but compared to my current WIP folder, this is positively a drabble.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (Buddie is mentioned, but one-sided in this)

Part One

Part Two

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Evan said tiredly. “Is that where the writing on the wall came from?” he asked, looking into Tommy’s eyes with that same touch of fear that was making Tommy's heart hurt. Not trusting his voice, Tommy just nodded. Evan grimaced, squeezing his hands. “I was kind of hoping you hadn't noticed.”

Tommy froze, his first instinct to pull away, to curl in on himself–protect his vulnerable points–because what the hell? Evan knew? Evan already knew Eddie loved him, had already realized? When? How? How long?!

But Evan was still standing as close as he usually did, swaying into Tommy's personal space. He was still holding Tommy's hands in his strong, steady grip, still rubbing his thumb back and forth over the rough, scarred skin of Tommy's knuckles with the same soft, feather-light touch as he always did. As though Tommy was something worth treating gently, as though he was something to be held gently and treasured.

Why wasn't Evan pulling back, babbling apologies, and promising that he hadn't meant to hurt him. Why wasn't he tripping over himself saying that he loved Tommy, sure, but it was Eddie, didn't Tommy understand? He stared at Tommy's hands with an air of exhausted, saddened resignation…but it didn't feel like Tommy had been expecting it to. Evan's sadness didn't feel directed at him. What was going on?

“I'm…I'm gonna need you to run that by me again,” he said carefully.

Evan sighed, bringing Tommy's hands up to kiss his fingers before letting go. “I know I don't always have the best, uh, situational awareness outside of burning buildings, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when people are interested.” He lowered his voice, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that Tommy could tell was more self-soothing than defensive. “And I know Eddie better than anyone. We're…we're working on it.”

Ah. There it was. His stomach dropped sickeningly, and he swallowed hard, reaching down deep for the focus he called on when making a particularly tricky landing or charging into a fire that was escaping control. The focus that let him concentrate only on his next move, let him take things step by step and not look at the big picture of how much danger he was in. He needed that to get through this.

He'd come here intending to fight…but he wasn't an idiot either. If Evan and Eddie were already “working on” something, then the fight was already lost.

God, losing Evan was going to hurt so damn much.

But he loved Evan. He loved Evan enough to want him to be happy. So he could do this. He could withdraw gracefully, make it as clean a break as possible for both of them. The last thing he could do for his boyfriend, before he lost the right to call Evan his anything. Maybe if he did this right, losing Evan wouldn't blow the life he'd been building around this, around them, to smithereens.

“--and Dr. Copeland's really been helping us talk through things. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you, but Eddie's…Eddie's not ready to come out yet and I promised him I wouldn't say anything unless it started causing problems for us.”

Evan was talking. Evan was talking quite a lot actually, his words coming faster and faster in a rapidly increasing stream that always signaled he was nervous, worried about not being understood. It was different from the way he picked up steam when he was excited about something, though Tommy couldn’t have told you how.

Abruptly, Evan broke off, reaching up to lay his hand against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy had to hold himself back from leaning into the touch, the calloused fingertips that were as familiar as his own by now. “I should’ve noticed this was upsetting you,” he said seriously. “That’s on me. I should’ve asked Eddie if I could talk to you sooner…he would’ve let me, I know he would. I guess—I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping we could smooth everything over before anyone figured anything out.” He shook his head, stroking Tommy’s cheekbone with his thumb like he wasn’t about to break Tommy’s fucking heart.

Gently as possible, of course. Evan was too kind to be anything but gentle. But it didn’t matter how gently you were lowered if the drop was a thousand-foot cliff.

“Babe, I promise, we already talked about it. I already told Eddie I wasn’t—well. We’ve talked about it. I’ll go on a different shift if it bothers you. I don’t…I don’t really want to move houses, but there’s plenty of places that’ll take me, so that’s an option too. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just say the word.” Evan’s brow furrowed, his face settling into the determined cast that meant he was committed to whatever course he was laying down, be it for good or ill.

And…Tommy didn’t quite hear a record scratch in his head.

But that wasn’t far off as a description.

“What?”

Evan tilted his head slightly. “I mean. Ideally nothing changes. Eddie’s…Eddie’s my partner. I can’t really imagine working with someone else. But I, I, I get it. That’s a huge ask, even if Eddie’s your friend, too.”

“No, I—what?” Tommy was suddenly struck with the feeling that they were having two entirely different conversations.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this. I—you have every right to be angry about it. I just…I know how you feel about outing people. And I mean, me too! I’d never, I’d never do that to someone, and like I said, I was really hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice changed again, crossing the threshold into desperation, a slight quaver on the end of each word that told Tommy his boyfriend’s anxiety was ratcheting up with every passing second. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Eddie.”

This wasn’t the way this conversation was supposed to go. This sounded like…didn’t Evan understand? “Evan,” Tommy said, feeling the words scrape over his throat like broken glass. “Evan, he’s in love with you.”

He could not let himself hope he was hearing his boyfriend correctly until he was sure Evan understood exactly what was on the table here. What he’d been seeing practically from the moment he and Evan first started dating.

Evan reeled back a little, his frown deepening. And then…and then he watched all of the puzzle pieces slot into place in his boyfriend’s brain. Those pretty, pretty eyes that Tommy loved getting lost in went wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…oh, no. No. Tommy. Tommy, I know that,” he said softly. “But I’m in love with you.”

*

“I…I look, I’m not going to insult you, here,” Evan sighed, burrowing deeper into Tommy’s side and throwing an arm over his stomach. The two of them were sprawled on Evan’s couch, Evan tucked as close to Tommy’s body as he could manage. Given that he was over six feet tall and pretty much solid muscle, it was pretty impressively close. “If Eddie and I had figured ourselves out sooner…or if Eddie had said something back when we were first dating, well. It would have been a different story.”

Tommy could not help tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Right person, wrong time,” he said, the words barely carrying even the short distance between them. He felt Evan give a small nod, and could not bring himself to look down at his boyfriend. The man he loved. His, still, because Evan wasn’t trying to let him down gently. Wasn’t trying to leave. He couldn’t believe it.

He…he couldn’t believe it.

“Then why isn’t it right person, right time now?” he forced himself to ask. It felt stupid. Evan said he didn’t want to leave him, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? He had to know, though. He had to dig down to the very root of this whole mess, this single, unignorable thing that had been haunting his relationship with Evan all this time, standing in the way of the future he so desperately wanted with this man. He had to dig it out, once and for all.

Evan was silent for long enough that it started to make him nervous. Then his arm tightened across Tommy’s stomach. “Because we’re not,” he said finally. “I’m not the right person for him anymore…and he’s not the right person for me. Me and Eddie—whatever chance we had, it’s gone.” He shifted suddenly, sitting up slightly so he could look Tommy in the eye. “And I’m okay with that, Tommy. I don’t…I don’t regret that. I love you, okay? I love you. Full stop. No qualifiers.”

Evan could be insecure, sometimes. Unsure of himself. But he had never shied away from being honest with Tommy. Even when honesty was difficult, or painful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that Evan had hidden the fact that Eddie had told him he was in love with him…Eddie was Evan’s best friend above all else, and he’d been trying to stay loyal to both of them. It had been an impossible position. And…he hadn’t exactly been honest with Evan, either, had he? He should have talked to him about his doubts a long time ago. Especially when they became an obstacle to talking about the future.

“So Eddie’s been seeing Dr. Copeland with you?” he asked when Evan settled his head back on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Evan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Evan made a soft, contented sound.

“I mean, not as a patient or anything. More like…he comes and sits in on some of my regular sessions and she helps facilitate conversations. We—the most important thing is Chris doesn’t get hurt, you know? We needed to make sure any issues between us don’t affect him. But she’s also helping me set new boundaries, and just be mindful of not giving him false hope. Helping us keep communicating and figure out if we need some distance, and how that would work.”

Tommy hummed to himself, and then pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “That must be hard for him,” he mused out loud.

Loving Evan and not being able to have him? Tommy was probably the only person in the world who could understand exactly how hard that would be. He’d been so sure it was going to be him on that end of this equation…and Eddie was his friend, too. One of his best friends. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but compassion.

“We’ve made it through hard things before,” Evan murmured. “Eddie…Eddie’s my best friend. He’s family. We’re not letting this ruin that.” He turned in Tommy’s arms, bringing himself impossibly closer. “But I meant what I said. I’m not letting this ruin us, either. If you need me to take a step back, I will. I mean—Eddie’s willing, too, but I just finished that HazMat certification, and my heavy rescue certs are more recent than his. Right now, it’d be easier for me to transfer somewhere.”

At that, Tommy wrapped his other arm around Evan’s waist and heaved, rolling him so that he was sitting on Tommy’s lap, facing him. “You’d really leave the 118 for me?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

Evan framed his face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Just a brief press of their lips together, but it was full of promise. “I’m never gonna lose the 118,” he said. “I know that…better than I ever have. But yeah, I don’t…I don’t need to work there, anymore. Not the way I did when I first started. You have no idea how much you helped get me there.”

“Baby…” he whispered, everything else he wanted to say getting lodged in his throat. Evan grinned at him crookedly, not a trace of doubt in his blue, blue eyes, and kissed him again. Deeper. Firmer.

Kissing Evan was always a delight, but this felt different. This felt like forever.

And in the face of forever, Tommy found he could finally chase away the shadow that had been haunting them.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” he said when they finally broke apart. He ran his hands up and down his boyfriend’s sides, loving the way he arched like a cat into the touch. “I trust you. I trust Eddie. If you say we can get through this, then that’s what we’re going to do.” He knew Evan hadn’t just been placating him, but the brilliant grin that broke out across his face told Tommy he’d said exactly the right thing. He answered it with his own, sliding his hands further down to rest on his boyfriend’s hips. “One condition, though.”

“Name it,” Evan said instantly, tilting his head curiously.

They weren’t on a romantic trip, or at a fancy dinner. There weren’t flowers or candlelight or any of the other trappings he’d imagined whenever he let himself indulge in thinking about how he might take the next steps with Evan. Curled together on his couch, basking in the knowledge that they were going to be okay…that they’d come face to face with a challenge that would have ended most other couples and were going to come out stronger for it…he found the setting didn’t matter.

“Come live with me when your lease is up. Hell, come now. Come home,” he said.

If he’d thought Evan’s smile had been bright before, this one was blinding. “Thought you’d never ask.”

[py-dreamer]

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

[lambergeier]

behold: opening 3k of current haikaveh wip. feeling ambivalent about ever finishing this just bc i have so fully dipped from genshin since all the natlan racism lol, so just in case this doesn't get finished.... starts with porn, so watch out for that!

---

The first thing that happens that day is that Kaveh gets a letter from the Akademiya’s Desk of Graduate Recordings and Happenstance on the subject of future mailings to his address. Well, sort of. Well, it’s almost the first thing. The first first thing that happens that day, Kaveh supposes, is that Kaveh wakes up in Alhaitham’s arms.

“Not yet,” Alhaitham says, sleepy and firm, his hands pressing around Kaveh’s stomach and sweating chest as the midmorning birds sing from the eaves.

“Mmm, Haitham,” Kaveh says, then, “Haitham, let me up, Haitham, I’m—”

Alhaitham presses his mouth to the back of Kaveh’s bare neck, his chest to Kaveh’s hot shoulders. “You have time,” he says. “Not yet.”

Does Kaveh have time? He has no way of knowing. He’s still so asleep, hot and slow-moving as glass, blinking against the brightness in Alhaitham’s bedroom like some kind of newborn housepet. He has a meeting today, right? With a client? Perhaps a vendor?? Unhelpfully, Alhaitham shapes his body to Kaveh’s like skin over muscle. Kaveh feels the desire to purr.

It’s as bad now as it’s ever been. There’s no respite. He’s never been this disorientingly horny in his life. Not just this morning, when the prospect of orgasm is immediate and obvious, but for days now. Weeks? They’ve been sleeping together for—his breath hitches abruptly as Alhaitham’s hand on his hip becomes Alhaitham’s fingers petting down his fattening cock, stroking his sac with focused care—oh, God, it’s been at least three months. Three months in what must finally, formally, be called a relationship, and Kaveh feels now as he did that very first afternoon: insane. With lust, with need, with panic, with flagrant desire. Has he ever thought this much about sex, this regularly, in his entire life? Alhaitham’s bush is scraping his ass raw, Alhaitham’s cock hard enough that Kaveh can feel the hot tip of it against his skin, and that makes him twice as insane as all the rest of it.

“Haitham,” he pants, “I have to get up.”

“Not yet,” Alhaitham says again. He’s like creeping vines this morning. He doesn’t intend to be removed.

Three months Kaveh has been thinking about sex with Alhaitham, morning to night. Unbearable, and yet still better than thinking about the other thing—how much he wants to be with Alhaitham, morning to night. How much he wants to be pulled into him, like sunlight into sprawling leaves. A fish into an ocean. A man into a relationship he wanted profoundly and understands minimally. Compared to that, an obsessive contemplation of a quarter-year’s unbridled libido isn’t bad at all.

“Fuck me,” he pants. Screw the client and the vendor. Give him this. “Haitham, your cock, fuck me.”

Alhaitham, nearly on top of him, is urgent and threatening to roll Kaveh face-first into the sheets. “If you think,” he says, “I’m going to go get the damn harness when you,” he’s not managing the scornful tone particularly well, “look like this—”

“Not your cock!” Kaveh says. “Your cock!”

Praise God, he gets the picture. Alhaitham rolls Kaveh over, pins him to the sheets, and starts to thrust.

Face down, panting like a dog into Alhaitham’s overpriced pillow, Kaveh struggles briefly to spread himself before Alhaitham realizes what he’s doing and deigns to help. He shoves Kaveh’s thigh up and toward his side and Kaveh grabs it, pulling his own hips wide and eager. This is good. This is great. The more he has to be in his body the less he has to be in his head. Alhaitham has an arm across his shoulders and his pelvis to Kaveh’s ass as he thrusts the tip of his short cock against Kaveh’s hole. It’s not quite firm enough to penetrate and drives Kaveh thoroughly insane. He pants for it like an animal.

“Good” Alhaitham says, “good,” his greatest of praises. What’s Kaveh good at? Being limber and getting fucked? That’s not so bad! 

“Yes,” Kaveh says (it’s outside of his control), “yes, yes, yes, yes,” with a rising intensity as Alhaitham’s thrust threaten to bash them both into the headboard. “Yes!”

“You’re,” Alhaitham pants, “repeating yourself.”

Kaveh shouldn’t let this example of Alhaitham’s worst behavior go unpunished. Unfortunately, right now he’s so powerfully turned on he thinks he might shatter, might vanish, might rocket into the air like a firework. And it’s always like this. Puberty was less intense than this! Kaveh barely survived puberty!

“C’mon, give it to me, give it to me,” he says. The heat of the sun inflames his neck, his back, his chest. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wants so desperately it’s going to rip him apart. He bruises his own thigh. Alhaitham bruises his hips. He fucks his cock against Kaveh, using Kaveh for all the pleasure he can get. 

“Desperate,” Alhaitham says, which makes Kaveh gasp a little, red and brainless. How could Alhaitham tell? How did he know? Can he see that it’s more than the sex? Does he suspect like Kaveh suspects that he’s desperate, actually, for all of it? Desperate to sit beside Alhaitham in the morning and drink their coffee together? To rearrange the bookshelves together? To debate the world’s philosophies together? To spend all the years of their life in the pleasure of—

Can everyone see it? What is Kaveh supposed to do?

Alhaitham pulls him back, fishing Kaveh from the sudden plunge of panic with all the gentleness of a tiger upon its prey. “Up,” he gasps into Kaveh’s ear, sweaty chest sliding across Kaveh’s sweaty back, “get your hips up, you perennial imbecile—”

He gets so punchy when he’s turned on. Maybe Kaveh could just rub himself to completion on Alhaitham’s sheets as Alhaitham rubbed himself to completion on Kaveh. Maybe he’s dizzy with the idea of it, actually. But he shuffles up, obedient, movable as clay, and at Alhaitham’s prompting gives his own cock three quick strokes that end—predictably. With fantastic, enervating clarity. Kaveh gasps wetly as he falls back on the sheets, Alhaitham coming down with him, getting in a few last hot thrusts against Kaveh’s ass and quivering thigh.

It’s not quite enough for him—he rolls over, on his back beside Kaveh, eyes screwed shut as he rubs himself with an almost furious impatience. Kaveh watches him with one eye, sweat pooling between his shoulders. He likes Alhaitham’s tense, closed face, the shuddering ridge of his shoulder as he works himself like an unruly machine. He reaches out a hand, tracing the gray hair around Alhaitham’s nipple and down his abdomen. Kaveh fingers meet Alhaitham’s at the base of his hot cock. That’ll do it. Alhaitham gasps, tenses, and opens his eyes wide. When he closes them again, relief flows off him like cool water. 

“Good morning,” Kaveh says. 

Alhaitham hums, low and rocky. Kaveh keeps stroking the whorls of his chest hair. It’s always so soft. He never expects how soft it is. “Good morning,” Alhaitham says. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

“Ass,” Kaveh says, unable to help a smile, and then the hour-horn calls from the market and Alhaitham raises an eyebrow and Kaveh realizes he is quite seriously late.

“Ass!” Kaveh shouts from the bath as he scrubs come off himself then leaps damply toward the other bedroom. His bedroom. The bedroom that is still officially his, because it has his drafting table and wardrobe and jewelry (despite how much of that jewelry and wardrobe and even the drafts have begun to emigrate into Alhaitham’s bedroom with no hope of return) but they’ve only been dating for three months, and it would be crazy for Kaveh not to keep his own bedroom, so he does. It’s this one. He can’t remember the last time he slept in it. But it is 100% his own bedroom!! 

Kaveh emerges from the bedroom (his) with most of his clothing on the right way around. Alhaitham sits in the living room, sipping his morning coffee.

“Aren’t you late?” Kaveh says.

“Nope.” Alhaitham takes another sip of his coffee. He’s wearing loose trousers, sweat still shining on his bare chest. Bastard.

“Don’t tell me you—oh. Wait.” Kaveh frowns. “The trip? Is that today?”

“Yep,” Alhaitham says.

“Two weeks?”

“Two weeks.”

Kaveh frowns harder, though of course they’ve both been away from home longer than that. Just not recently. “And this is for—have you told me what this is for?”

“I haven’t.” 

“Haitham, come on.” He’s reading a book flat on the table, flipping through the pages at a speed that indicates he’s not so much reading the book as using it as a means to avoid eye contact. Haitham, having grown since their teenage years, now only does this when he’s upset about something—or being a massive bitch. 

“Oh, sorry, was the mind-blowing morning sex not enough for you?” Kaveh snaps.

Alhaitham jerks his head up. “What? The sex was extremely enjoyable.”

“Oh, yes, it—” Abort, abort. Kaveh backpedals wildly. “---Was for me, too. Actually. Forget that. Where are you going?”

“The desert,” Alhaitham replies, flicking the book closed as he rises for more coffee. “I’m undertaking a survey of recent changes to the environment following the Traveller’s journey to the north coast.”

“Huh,” Kaveh says. “For Lesser Lord Kusanali? Like, at her request?”

Alhaitham makes an unintelligible noise into his mug.

“Well, alright,” Kaveh says. “Two weeks isn’t that long. Right? It’s not that long. And you’re leaving in the afternoon, you said.” Kaveh really should go. He’s not getting less late. “So you’ll be here when I come back.”

“I will,” Alhaitham says.

“So I can say goodbye then.”

“That would appear to be the case.”

“Right, okay. Well—”

Alhaitham catches his sleeve as he makes to leave. As if unable to himself, as if by the biddings of his soul, Kaveh turns towards him. Alhaitham kisses him with the care and dedication of a craftsman, humbling himself to his art.

It doesn’t mean anything, how intensely he feels about Alhaitham. They’re just dating. They’re just trying all this out. If they’re moving a bit fast, if the high isn’t wearing off—if Kaveh has the suspicion, hot in his heart as molten brass, that he has entered into the last relationship he will ever have, that what he is doing with Alhaitham is a flare in the sky that everyone on the continent can see—it’s not. He isn’t. It’s only as serious as he wants it to be. He still has time to figure things out.

For God’s sake, only like four people even know he’s living with Alhaitham!

“I have to go,” Kaveh pants, mouth against Alhaitham’s.

“So go.”

“Ass.”

“See you later,” Alhaitham says, pressing a last firm kiss to Kaveh’s lips (he’s insatiable this morning! Kaveh wants to climb him like a tree!). Kaveh stumbles away, snatching his cape, shoes, and non-Mehrak briefcase as he goes. His keys are on top of the pile of mail that Alhaitham always leaves unopened by the door because he doesn’t believe people should have the ability to contact him at this home address. Kaveh, red up to his ears, just takes the whole mess with him. He can check for bills on the way. He’s feeling really normal. He’s fine, actually. It’s only as serious as he wants it to be. And if he doesn’t yet know exactly how serious he wants things to be—that’s fine, too!

Outside, proceeding at a brisk walk, feeling refreshed by the morning air and the scents of the Tree’s great flowering vines, Kaveh opens the first of the letters from the pile. It’s addressed to him—great. It’s from the Desk of Graduate Recordings and Happenstance. Perfect. They probably just want him to participate in another guest lecture. He feels capable and confident that he can accomplish this task. 

It’s not that. They’re updating their mailing records. His mailing address is currently listed as the Puspa Cafe (where Kaveh has been sending his mail for years as he bounced between the dorms, his childhood home, the couches of various acquaintances, etc.). Is this address still correct? Is this address still preferred? If neither correct nor preferred, could Kaveh please return the included form with his new address at the earliest convenience, postage prepaid?

Kaveh stops in the middle of the ramp-street, sun beating down his neck. “Ha,” he says. “Ha ha. Ha?”

—

Okay, this is absolutely not a problem. Kaveh totally, 100%, without a doubt knows the address at which he’d like to receive mail. It’d be crazy if he didn’t!

This is what he tells himself, very reasonably and in a normal tone of voice, as he careens through his morning. 

Because obviously it would be odd if Kaveh kept getting his mail at Pupsa’s with all the sailors and mercenaries and students too recently landed in Sumeru City to have a fixed address. He has a fixed address. He’s been living in Alhaitham’s spare room for almost two years. Recently, to be frank, he has been living in Alhaitham’s room. He’s been—

“Sir?” asks the carpenter whose bid he’s reviewing over a meze lunch at a nice little restaurant in the roots of the market. “Sir, are you alright?”

He’s thinking about the carpet in Alhaitham’s room, taking the skin off his knees, burying his head between Alhaitham’s heavy thighs until the breath runs out and his chest pounds and they both can’t—

“I’m fine!” Kaveh laughs. “Ha ha!”

Because it’s not like changing his address, telling the Akademiya and all their subsidiary organizations that actually he is living Alhaitham, and even has been living with Alhaitham, and presumably will be living with Alhaitham until some indeterminate future—Kaveh narrowly avoids walking into a pole, half a mile from the market and with another mile to the docks—that wouldn’t be great, either. Like, it just doesn’t seem that nice! The system he has now is fine, right? It’s not like Alhaitham likes telling people things about himself, god knows. Especially the Akademiya!

It would just be so final. So definitive. A commitment, in blue ink on white paper. Is that necessary? Like is it really necessary?

He imagines writing the Akademiya and telling them he has no fixed address. He imagines writing the Akademiya and telling them that he does. He imagines spending another five years picking up his mail alongside snotty homesick students and drovers reeking of sumpter beast. He imagines telling the Akademiya that for the next five years he, Kaveh, will be available to be reached at—

“Haitham!” Kaveh says, throwing open the door to their—Alhaitham’s—the house. “I’m coming with you.”

Alhaitham, dressed for travel in woolen pants and both shoulders actually contained within his cloak, for once, looks up. His mouth forms several silent shapes before he says, “You are?”

“I just think it’s been ages since I’ve left the city!” Kaveh says, blowing past Alhaitham and his assembled bags to start packing his own. His briefcase and the pile of this morning’s letters (contained therein) he leaves by the door. He won’t need those where he’s going! “I need some inspiration. My work is growing stagnant!”

“...Did you forget a loan payment?” Alhaitham calls from the living room as Kaveh empties his wardrobe onto his bed. “Is this a collections issue?”

Kaveh laughs airily—even casually! “I’m all paid up, Haitham, don’t worry!”

“Are you avoiding a deadline? Or a client?”

“My diary’s in order!” This is mostly true. This is true enough. “I just need some time off!”

“I’m going to be gone for two weeks,” Alhaitham says, standing with an uncomfortable look in Kaveh’s bedroom door. “At a minimum.”

Kaveh strips out of his clothing, reaching for his nearest traveling shirt, a nice airy linen he picked up in Bayda last year. “Yeah!” he says, from within it. 

“It’s not going to be safe. I’m leaving the caravan roads in Hadramaveth.”

“All the better to have a partner, right?”

Alhaitham shifts again, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Is this a panic attack?”

Kaveh pauses. The expression on Alhaitham’s face is, to Kaveh, in this moment, indecipherable. Like the workings of Dahri machines. “It’s—does it matter? Do you not want me with you?”

Alhaitham shifts and changes, tensing and humming like a struck stone. Kaveh has no bead on him. He can’t tell what’s happening and can’t try to—his own body feels like a plucked string, like a note held so long it’s about to break the instrument. He stares at Alhaitham, cloak in his hands, with no idea what Alhaitham will do. 

“Of course I want you with me,” Alhaitham says.

“Oh!” Kaveh says. “Oh, great.” He smiles, huge and breathless. “It’ll be nice. Won’t it? A little time away. When do you—we leave?”

“Five minutes ago,” Alhaitham says. He looks down at the pile of clothing on Kaveh’s bed. And floor. Kaveh looks, too.

“Great,” Kaveh says. “Great. Just one second.”

--

[swifty-fox]

yo you post your fics on AO3? if so please share your user babe

omg yes I do! you can check my swiftywrites tag but

Masters of the Air:

Kingdom for a Kiss - 104k Long-form Postwar exploration of Clegan's relationship and their trauma. Explicit.

Gale takes a deep breath to compose himself, tucks the jagged angry edges of himself back to face inwards. “You said you would write.”

understanding in a plane crash: WIP (5 parter, three parts up) Prequel fic to Kfak, as told from John Brady's perspective as a POW

“The thing you can't quite put your finger on about DeMarco,” He says, “is that you want him to fuck you til you cry. Sorry to spoil the game for you.”

Brady stares at him and stares at him, alone in the Base’s Chapel and rosary halfway finished. He thinks he might throw up, or maybe strangle Curt Biddick and then throw up.

“Lock it up, Johnny, they’re gonna see you bleeding it all over soon.”

press your tired hands against my lips darling: Finished. 3K word re-write of the Bucks final conversation in the cockpit. Loose prequel to KfaK but with some minor inaccuracies Mostly SFW

Gale takes John's hand, brings the scarred knuckles to his mouth and holds it there, turns their hands over til he can place his lips to the pulse point at John’s wrist. It’s not a kiss, there’s no press or pursing of lips, but tender nevertheless, intimate in a way that makes Gale shudder. Cautious of whether John will even allow this.  

“I ain’t prayed in a long time,” Gale says whisper-soft. He feels John’s pulse skip a beat, “but I prayed every day you were safe and alive and coming back to me. Every morning, and every night.”  He lets himself cry again, tears hidden against the scarred skin of John's hand. 

Little Beast: Ongoing. Porn with a bit of Plot modern au of Burnout John and Priest Gale. total of 30k of them fucking and arguing. Three Parts so far. NSFW to the max

“It’s such a shame you’re cooped up in here like Rapunzel there Buck.” John drawls lazily. He makes a show of looking around “Is Mother Gothel nearby?” 

Buck has to fight back against another smile, wouldn't give him the satisfaction or the encouragement “Father Huglin is away at a conference today.”

“All alone without a chaperone.” 

The Old Guard:

in another life maybe you and i would be walking down an aisle in white: Finished Joe/Nicky (18K) Art Professor Joe & Art Conservator Nicky reconnect after ten years. This one is uh. Sad. Mind the tags. It's an incredibly personal piece to me and probably one of my favorites .NSFW

Dear Joe, you have always been the brave one and I wished every moment for even a drop of that. Perhaps that is why I claimed you as mine, out of a desperate need to have even an ounce of what made you, you. I desired you but I would not, could not ever let you in. I loved you and kept you and hurt you, keelhauled you against the impenetrable ship that was my heart and when the ragged pieces were left behind I still asked of you your silence.  

It is no wonder our love was left in bloody tatters on that lawn. 

Make me a Saint: Finished (8k) Nicky and Nile mete out some justice to a corrupt priest. NSFW for violence. Mind the tags. As of right now, my most popular fic

“ I was a priest before your bible was even written old man ” Nickys voice thunders in the tiny room, crackling over the walls like fire. Even Nile flinches at the sudden volume. He takes another step forwards, bracketing Father Marcus’ arthritic twisted feet with his own.

His voice does not shake.

“I preached the word of God before your language was even invented . I have known the church for longer than you can comprehend. I have seen great men and evil men take up the word of the Lord and I have seen them all rendered dust. I have seen you and I have judged you, Father Marcus. The Church may practice restraint but I do not. The diocese may have turned a blind eye I but I do not. The courts may have found you innocent but I do not . 

Calcification of a God: Finished (4K) Nicky has a lil Menty B and then Joe gives him a bath. Mostly SFW if I recall correctly

“I think,” Nicky says “If I were God, it was you I modeled humanity after. I think if I were God I would have left my throne in heaven to walk beside you and I would have been richer for it”

Yusuf chuckles “Death makes you sentimental my darling.”

Wolfstar:

Oh Captain, My Captain!: Finished, 1.6k Drabble of Wolfstar cuddling and reciting poetry. SFW

He cups the back of Remus’s head, presses him further into the safety of his body with a hand on his mismatched, misaligned rib cage and rocks them slightly. Remus grunts slightly. Sirius hides the teeth of his smile against the follow of his own neck and allows the curtain of his hair to cover them both for a moment. He listens to the two of them breath, always slightly out of sync, out of rhythm. Remus quick and labored, Sirius racing to catch up only to find himself charging ahead only to drop back behind when he tries to slow down. 

“ If I vibrate with vibrations other than yours, must you conclude that my flesh is insensitive ” That doesn’t fit quite right, so he tries another, brow furrowed and fingers tracing the knobs of Remus’ spine like the knots on a tree, with reverence and a little hint of greed. 

[mamawasatesttube]

i accepted im not finishing the timkon vday fic today and instead launched into yet another new wip instead. i present to you: a snippet of kon vs his deeply repressed medical trauma, featuring core four and what is gonna be some gratuitous kon & clark fambly focus...

The voices are still talking, too loud and too fast to understand. Kon tries to breathe harder, his heart racing—the beeping doesn’t help—and looks around frantically. Where’s the exit? He just came through a door, but he doesn’t know where it went—

A gloved hand settles on his arm, and a cold wipe that smells of alcohol scrubs over his skin. Kon tilts his head to see what’s happening.

A needle glints in the doctor’s other hand. They’re prepping his arm for intravenous injection.

“NO!” He jerks away, terror flaring through his stomach. It’s so poignant it almost drowns out the agony. His TTK flares, too, and the doctor and the needle in their hand fly across the room, far away. A flash of light and a person with chestnut hair catches them, so they’re not hurt.

Good. Kon didn’t mean to hurt anyone. He just—he just wants them to stay away.

He’s safe for the moment. Kon sobs for breath—

“Kon!” The person from before, the one lying and saying it’d be okay, appears again. They grab Kon’s hand and squeeze it. “Kon, she was only trying to help! You’re safe, I swear—”

Kon jerks away. “Don’t—don’t lie to me—” he manages. He needs to get up. He needs to get out of here. He needs… he needs…

When he tries to sit up, pure agony lances through his entire body. It radiates out from his gut and spears up through his chest like lightning, so sharp he can’t breathe and stars sparkle across his blurry vision.

What did they do to him?!

He isn’t safe here, he needs to get out of here! It’s only gonna get worse the longer he stays; they’ll get another doctor, another needle—he has to sit up, he needs to move—

Strong hands clamp onto his shoulders and hold him down. Despite all his strength, they hold him down. Kon cries out, a new wave of ice-cold terror spearing through him. “No! No, no let me go!”

“Cassie, you’re scaring him!” the other voice says, tugging at the new person’s wrists, completely ineffectively. “We need to calm him down, not—"

The new person, Cassie, ignores them. “Kon, listen to me.”

Kon shakes his head, terrified. “No no no no no!”

“Kon, you can’t hurt the doctors. They’re trying to help, okay? You’re badly hurt, and they’re trying to help, but you need to let them do their jobs!”

Another person in surgical scrubs approaches. Kon barely hears what they say over all the roaring in his ears, but it doesn’t matter. He knows how Cadmus operates.

“…you restrain him until we can administer anesthesia?” he overhears. It’s enough. He hyperventilates, sobs for breath, shoves ineffectively at the strong arms holding him down. Desperate, he shoves at Cassie with TTK. Thankfully, that has some effect: she yelps as he shoves himself a few inches off the bed, but then sharp, white-hot pain sears through his entire body, and his vision blacks out.

When he comes to, Cassie is over him again, and—and—

Glowing, golden ropes wind tight around his shoulders, his wrists, his thighs, his legs. He’s completely pinned to the bed. One end of the ropes is wrapped around Cassie’s hands.

He can’t move.

He can’t escape.

No. No no no no this can’t happen again, they’re going to hurt him and he needs to get out but he can’t—he can’t—oh, god, this is happening again and he’s just gonna have to take it, and—and it already hurts so much, he can’t take it—

Kon chokes on another sob. “Please,” he begs. “Please please please please—”

Cassie looks anguished. “I’m sorry, Kon,” she says, but she’s not sorry enough to let him go, so it doesn’t matter. “It’s for your own good, I swear.”

He can’t move. He can’t move and it hurts and he can’t move and it hurts and no matter how hard he struggles, he’s pinned, and it hurts it hurts it hurts so so so bad, and oh, god, he’s trapped. He’s trapped, he can’t—he can’t—

Terrified, Kon does the only thing he can think of.

“SUPERMAN!” he screams. “Kal! Kal-El! Please, please—help me, help me, don’t—don’t let them do this to me again, Kal, Kal—”

There’s a pinch in his arm.

The needle.

Kon falls silent.

It’s… it’s really happening again, isn’t it? No matter how much he fights and screams and pleads. They’re gonna cut him open and hurt him and put him back in the tube. They’re gonna make him just another slab of tissue. An experiment and not a person. It’s happening again. And he can’t stop it. He can’t escape.

He can’t escape.

His chest hurts. A single tear rolls down the side of his face into his hair.

The door slams open. Kon’s gaze snaps over.

“What is going on here?”

Superman stands in the doorway, resplendent in all his glory. He’s an even more welcome sight than the sun, and even though Kon can’t move thanks to the golden ropes, he whimpers, fingers twitching as he yearns to reach for him.

He looks furious.

[phyrestartr]

Baby Crazy | Miguel x F!Reader

Miguel x Symbiote Host!Reader W/C: 1.8k

#SFW, mentions of trauma, mentions of past miscarriage, new beginnings, Miguel has baby fever, established relationship, fluff, comfort

Note: I'm trying to finish up and move on from a bunch of WIPs I have cluttering up my docs, so that's why I'm rapid-fire posting LOL. I have so many that are nearly done bro it's driving me insane!!!

--

Something changed.

This hadn't happened before, the way he was acting, the way he was feeling. Everything around him, anything that even slightly hinted at kids, triggered the frenzy in Miguel’s brain; if Peter showed up at HQ with May in his arms, Miguel had a hard time leaving the room and ignoring them because–yes he wanted to hold her, god dammit, hand her over already, Parker.

Then there were the instances with Jess on missions; any time she got whipped around, Miguel flew to her in an instant, asking if the baby was okay before asking if Jess was okay. He knew they were both fine, but–but still.

And, Christ, when you held a baby, and that stoicism lifted from your beautiful face? It killed Miguel, made him fall even more in love with you if that was even possible. 

Fuck. He was so, so doomed. 

He'd never seen you so soft before. Just that little glimpse of your maternal instincts, your quiet gentility, dyed your partner’s blood in bright hues of hope and wonder. Because you were a hardened woman, someone the universe took great pleasure in beating on time after time. It was a wonder love could still find a home inside your bruised heart. Miguel had been there to see you before it all, and held you through most of the downfall, and when he’d missed things, you filled in the gaps for him; you were his greatest confidant, ranking high in Miguel’s mind with Lyla and Gabriel. 

You'd been there since the beginning as a cool, calm, collected reporter that'd do just about anything to get the next story for the papers. Miguel found you incredibly aggravating, and he would have had much less patience for you if he hadn't wanted to get in bed with you so much. And as it turned out, your insatiable curiosities would come to bite you in the ass as much as it would foster your bond to the scientist; you would become host to the symbiote, and he would become spliced with spider genetics. 

Spiderman. Venom. 

Who else could you turn to but each other? Who else would understand what it felt like to change in a split second, to endure what it meant to change? 

You'd both done your damndest to take it in stride, and now here you were, too many years later, stuck to each other like glue and hardened off into something hurt and impenetrable that just now started to ease into something soft and malleable. Miguel found he loved it. He loved you. 

And, shit, he wanted a goddamn baby with you. 

He watched you from the couch while you loitered in the kitchen, hair a mess and oversized sleep shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder as you willed yourself to get a pot of coffee going. Rosy eyes glanced down to your stomach. How tight would that shirt get when you were nine months? And what if you had twins? Miguel had confidence in himself, he figured he had the power to put two babies in you at once. Easy. No problem. Definitely doable and–

"Miguel?" You called from the kitchen with a croaky, groggy voice.

"Baby?" He blurted, the fever in his mind overtaking his mouth and sabotaging what he tried to say. 

You stared at Miguel as heat rose to his face. He didn't call you "baby." You didn't call him "baby." You had a right to be suspicious. And because you were you, you continued to stare, and stare, and stare like it was some kind of punishment done to make Miguel squirm in his seat (which succeeded). 

"I–uh, shit, sorry. You–say again?" 

You stared at him. 

"(Name), for the love of–stop, just stop. Please," he more or less begged as he rubbed his face. Maybe he could rub away the red staining his cheeks if he tried hard enough. 

"Hm." You collected the two mugs of coffee you'd prepared during Miguel's daydream, and brought them to the couch. "You've been thinking about babies a lot." 

Miguel took the mug with a soft thanks. "Well, it's hard not to with Jess and Peter around," Miguel deflected. 

You slipped your legs across his lap and leaned against the arm of the couch. "Mh." You sipped your coffee and held it with both hands to warm your chilled fingers. "Do you want–" 

"I think so." He looked at you, eyes big with a maelstrom of nerves and excitement dancing behind them as sparks fluttered in his chest. "Do you?" 

Your head tilted just slightly as you looked him over. "Mhm. Wanna do it now?" 

Miguel's palm magnetized to your thigh and squeezed. "Well, I think we've got time."

“Okay.” Miguel smirked and started to feel up your leg, his fingers dipping into the sleep shorts you wore. But then, you took out your phone, and paid no mind to his lustful touches. “What do you want?”

Miguel blinked. “What?” 

You stared at him again. “For breakfast.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mh.” You fidgeted with your phone between your fingers for a moment. “Oh. Did you…think I was talking about–?”

“No,” Miguel interjected. “I–I just thought you–maybe just–I, well. Maybe?” He swallowed and drummed his fingers against your leg. “Have you…thought about it?” 

The question held weight; he knew you’d thought about it, knew you lamented over it, even, because you lost a child just as he had. The memories swirling in your mind never rose to the surface, never burned into the history of the outside world, but Miguel knew they were there. He knew a late-term miscarriage could never be forgotten. 

“Mmh…” You slipped your legs off his lap and made slow work of tucking them into your sleepshirt, making yourself a blob. A very cute, sleepy blob. “We’ve thought about it,” you admitted, but didn’t expand. It gave Miguel hope, though. Clearly you’d mulled it over with your other half. 

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

Your partner nodded. His hand found its way onto the bump of your knee, and his thumb rubbed curious circles against you as he exercised patience, like a puppy sitting and waiting for a treat. You watched his hand on you, quietly admiring the veins and tendons proudly pushing against his skin, and the shift of muscle dancing under his movements as he soothed you.

“Are you ready?” You wondered softly. One of your hands slipped from your mug in favour of resting over his. “For a baby.” 

Miguel chewed his cheek for a moment and watched your hand, too, like avoiding each other’s gaze would somehow quash the trepidation, make it easier to admit what you both wanted and what you both feared. But Miguel, the man who didn’t always like what he had to do but knew what he had to do, bit the bullet and found your eyes. Your beautiful, perfect eyes. Maybe your shared joy would have them, too. 

“Yeah.” He scooted into your space and caressed your warm cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “If it’s with you,” he said, and turned his hand to cup your cheek with his palm, “I’m sure.”

The still, placid look of you melted, just the slightest bit, under the incalescence of your lover’s touch. Your lovely lips twitched a fraction, but the true smile, the one Miguel craved to see day after day, glowed in the colour of your eyes. 

“Hm.” You hummed softly as you nodded, thinking and deliberating with your other half. Your gaze wandered away from Miguel and to the side slowly, to the side she whispered in the most. Your eyes fluttered, then, gaze recentering and focusing on Miguel in front of you again. 

“Well?” He tucked some hair behind your ear only for you to un-tuck that same piece. Miguel tucked it back again, and this time, you let him. “What’s the jury say?”

You took a deep breath, and nodded. “We think we’re ready,” you murmured. You caught his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, treating him like the princess you knew he was. “If it’s with you, we’re sure.” And this time, you gave him a smile. 

Miguel’s heart erupted. His boyish grin hit you with the concentrated power of the sun before he all but dove into you, crushing you with a hug, and spilling coffee everywhere. You made some sort of strange noise, something between laughter and panic, as you fumbled with the mugs and set them down wherever you could while Miguel peppered you with affection. He kissed your de-blobbed body, first your collarbone and then between your breasts. He nuzzled there before taking a deep, deep breath of your scent and sighing, content.

“You’re weird,” you said as you carded your hands through his hair while he basked in the glory of your chest. 

He pulled his face out of heaven and rested his chin between the girls as he gazed up at you, eyes bleeding adoration and excitement. “Oh, what, I’m not allowed to be excited for a baby?” 

You pinched his nose and watched him scrunch up his face and suffer. “You’re just weird.” Your mean fingers found his eyebrows and pulled them. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” You let go of the hairs and smoothed them over with your thumbs. “About trying again.” 

That had Miguel’s attention. “You never mentioned it.” He tilted his head, resting his cheek against one plushy mound as he listened. 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t know if I should.” You dragged your nails against Miguel’s scalp, and he closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. “I’m glad you did.”

Miguel hummed warmly. “Guess we were both a little scared, huh? Hah. Venom and Spiderman, afraid to talk about the future. Who woulda thought.” He picked his head up to look you in the eyes. “But at least that’s out of the way now.” 

“Mh. Now you can stop complaining about using condoms,” You said, deadpan. 

“I–you–look, you don’t get it–”

“Hm.”

“It feels different. Better. Like a real connection–”

“Hmm.” 

“And–okay, fine, I’d rather not have a shitty layer of rubber between me and you. What’s so wrong with that?” 

“Hmmm.”

“Vieja,” Miguel pleaded. 

You smiled, soft and quiet like drifting petals. “Like I said, you won’t need to complain about them anymore. Not for a while, anyway.”

Miguel bit your tit lightly, and you flicked his forehead. “Why don’t we not-complain right now?” 

“Hm.” 

“We have time to start round one of baby-making, yeah?” His smile, dangerous and hungry, split across his features again as his hands wandered up and under your shirt teasingly. “If we knock you up now, we’ll have a kid born in…what, February? Good start to a new year.” 

You thought about it more seriously than Miguel thought you would, if the narrowing of your brows and a sudden prolonged silence told him anything. You were probably mulling over the zodiacs for that month, though, deciding if you liked them enough to go for it. Even with your serious take on things, you still loved your astrology. 

“Hm. Okay.” But you plucked your phone off the ground and turned the menu you’d pulled up to Miguel. “Food first. Baby-making after.” 

He nodded. “Deal.”