#at least by then I was drawing my characters with necks finally (and actual hands too apparently according to these two drawings at least)

[what-about-yogurt-night]

My OC's changed a lot over the years so I decided to try and draw him the way I used to when I was younger (with my current drawing style, of course)

My boi Conor went through a lot back in the day😔😔

Here are the drawings I used as references lol:

transcript for the one with words lol:

Character Files

Name = Conor Rosewood

Hair = Golden (turning silver)

Eyes = 1 really bright, really big mesmerizing eye, other eye foggy with scar across it

Powers(?) = Everything

Friends = Toadette, Harry, Ron, Hermione, various animals

Flaws = Jumpy, angered easily, almost like a zombie

Species = Unicorn (weird, right?)

Skin = Light grey (when normal), white (when surprised, worried, or scared), or dark grey (when angry or blushing)

Age = 14 (not now, though)

Birthday = April 30th 1989

Fav. food = Blackberries

Fav. color = Green

Allergies = Iron and meat

[the fancy writing above the unicorn version of Con is supposed to be his signature lol]

[buckets-and-trees]

Warm Shadows - The Working of Your Hands [4/4*]

Collection: Warm Shadows Chapter Title: The Working of Your Hands Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader. Bucky x Reader x Steve Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: With your original Alpha returned to you and your new alpha waiting in the wings, uncertainty can finally be dealt with and whatever the uncharted future will be, at least you can figure out what it will be. Big questions loom, possibilities must be considered, and the chasm of what the three of you have been through must be confronted.

Content Warnings: dark themes and experiences discussed, a/b/o dynamics, angst; explicit smut: oral (m and f receiving), vaginal intercourse, double penetration, unprotected sex

Additional Notes: I've been working on this chapter for a very long time. I finally got some renewed inspiration for it recently, and I originally had hoped to finish it for @biteofcherry's birthday because she's one of the biggest supporters for this story, but it wasn't quite ready for you then darling, so... slightly belated birthday. BUT ALSO! It did so much better than I dreamed it would in my 2200 Followers Celebration poll, actually coming in the top four, so I really kicked things into gear, and thought it would be a fitting gift for ALL OF YOU now that I actually hit 2300 this week!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The sun is deliciously warm on your face as you shift and begin to wake up. Your body feels sated and content and initially that doesn’t seem strange, except your heart backtracks when you reach for Bucky only to find empty space on the bed next to you.

Another dream. Again.

Except there’s music playing softly from the little device in your hand – the one Bucky had shared with you!

Your face splits into a massive grin.

What’s more, you can feel the tie to your alpha again. The afternoon floods back into your mind, and you press your fingers over the bonding mark on your neck, warmth radiating through your chest. As you sit up and look around, through the bond you can tell that although he’s not there in the little cottage, he is close by.

So is your other alpha – you can feel him, too.

But that feeling is also different.

The bond between you and this version of Steve had crashed into your being as a hard and rough force. It had remained a hard presence - like a wall - while he kept you with him at the first Hydra facility, but lost the roughness by degrees over those initial weeks. When he worked you through your heat, broke and admitted some of what happened to turn him to the dark Captain Hydra, and orchestrated the escape for the two of you from the second facility, the bond had changed again. The wall morphed to more of what you could only describe as a firm hand against your chest, still holding you at bay, but more of a tangible connection.

And now something has altered it again. It's a hand against your chest, but not pushing up against you.

You know the only feasible reason Bucky would have left you had to have been to confront Steve, and the shift must be due to whatever has happened or words exchanged between them.

You slide of the bed and reach for your scattered clothes to get dressed. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull them on, the fabric soft against your skin. You focus your senses, attuned to every whisper of movement outside. The wooden floorboards creak softly beneath your bare feet as you pad towards the window, drawing back the thin curtain to peer outside. The late afternoon light streaming through a partly cloudy sky bathes the surrounding forest in a golden glow. A gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and earth and wildflowers, mingling with something distinctly... alpha.

You catch a glimpse of movement between the trees. A flash of metal - Bucky's arm? - glints in the sunlight before disappearing again. Your heart races, the bond thrumming with proximity and anticipation. You press your hand against the cool glass, straining to see more.

Then, like a mirage solidifying, you spot them clearly. Bucky and Steve stand in a small clearing just beyond the treeline, their postures tense but not combative. Even from this distance, you can see the set of Bucky's jaw, the way Steve's hands clench and unclench at his sides. They're talking, but their voices are too low and their distance too far for you to make out any of their conversation.

You watch intently as the two alphas interact with each other. Your mind races with questions. What are they saying? How much more does Bucky know about what happened now? How will this change things between all of you?

Their body language speaks volumes - Bucky's shoulders are squared, his stance protective, while Steve's posture is more open, but far more alert and searching. You can feel the push and pull of their emotions through the bonds, a swirling mix of anger, guilt, confusion, and... hope?

Suddenly, Bucky takes a step forward, his hand outstretched. Steve tenses for a moment, then slowly, cautiously, reaches out to clasp Bucky’s forearm. The gesture is familiar, reminiscent of their old camaraderie, and it makes your heart clench.

As if sensing your gaze, Steve's head snaps up, his gaze locking onto the window where you stand. Even from this distance, you can feel the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches in your throat as a jolt of electricity seems to pulse through your bond. Bucky immediately follows Steve's line of sight, his eyes finding you as well. The intensity of their combined focus makes you shiver. Bucky's expression softens. Steve's face is a mask of conflicting and guarded emotions - regret, longing, and a flicker of the man you once knew.

You find yourself unable to look away, caught in the magnetic pull of their gazes. The air feels charged with potential energy, heavy with unspoken words and simmering emotions, like the calm before a storm breaks. Your fingers press against the glass, leaving faint smudges as you unconsciously lean closer.

Bucky gives a slight nod, his eyes never leaving yours. It's an unspoken invitation, a reassurance. You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you step back from the window. Your bare feet carry you swiftly to the door, hesitating only for a moment before you turn the handle.

The cool air hits your skin as you step outside, goosebumps rising along your arms. The grass is soft beneath your feet as you make your way towards them, each step feeling both too fast and agonizingly slow. The bonds within you hum with anticipation, drawing you forward like invisible threads.

As you near, you can sense there is a tentative, almost cautious, tension in the clearing surrounding the two alphas. Bucky's stance is protective, but not aggressive. He reaches out as you approach, his hand warm and steady as it finds yours.

"Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

You naturally step close to him, drawing comfort from his solid presence, but your eyes go to Steve.

The other alpha remains still, looking continually between you and Bucky, his gaze intense but wary. The air between you all feels charged, crackling with tangled emotions and uncertainty.

Bucky squeezes your hand, and his thumb begins to trace soothing circles over the back of it. "We've been talking. Trying to figure some things out."

Steve takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "I..." Steve starts, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again. "I know I can never fully make up for what I've done. To either of you." His gaze flicks between you and Bucky. "But I want you to know that I'm trying to break free. To be myself again."

You feel a tremor run through you, a mix of fear and hope and something you can't quite name. The bond between you and Steve pulses, no longer unyielding, but rather something more malleable, raw and aching.

“I believe you, Steve,” your voice is soft when start speaking, but as you say each word, it grows stronger. “But I also know it. I’ve seen the glimmers of the alpha we knew before all this bleed through.”

You visibly see Steve’s chest swell a little.

Bucky's arm slides around your waist, grounding you. "Steve and I have spent a long time talking. We've agreed that we need to take this slow," he explains. "For all our sakes. But we also can't ignore what's happened. The bonds..."

"It won't be easy," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. "There's a lot to work through. A lot of hurt."

Steve nods, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and regret. "I know. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."

You feel a slight vibration run through Bucky, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. This is difficult for him too, you know. The alphas' friendship has been tested in ways neither could have ever imagined.

"We take it day by day," you say simply. “Even without the dark pieces, something like this is,” you pause, searching for the right word, “unprecedented logistically. There are no records I’ve been able to find of two alphas claiming the same omega.”

“How did you…?” Steve furrows his brow.

You smirk. “When you left your secondary tablet in our quarters, I figured out the password. I knew I couldn’t access any of the external network, make contact with anyone, or conduct any searches that would seem out of the ordinary, but it was safe to scour the internal database. I couldn’t tell you where we were specifically, but it was evident we were at a priority one research and experimentation facility. Their library was flush with theories and documented studies and countless records in regards to alpha, beta, and omega dynamics, mutualism, and biological networks.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “Clever girl.”

You couldn’t help but preen a little. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Steve shifted slightly. Together now, there were new dynamics to feel and figure out. Experiencing and exploring it all would be a constant evolution and experiment for the foreseeable future, uncomfortable as it would likely be more often than not.

But there was also a flicker of admiration that crossed Steve’s face. "That's... impressive. And resourceful."

You shrug, trying to downplay the praise even as warmth blooms in your chest. "It was necessary. I needed to understand what was happening to me. To us."

"And what did you find?" Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Not much, to be honest. There were a few theoretical papers, some speculation based on rare cases of polyamorous relationships involving alphas and omegas, some based on relationships that involved betas, but nothing concrete. Nothing like our situation. No omegas documented with bonding marks from more than one alpha."

Bucky's arm tightens around you protectively. "We're in uncharted territory here."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "Exactly. Which is why we need to be careful. Patient." Your eyes meet Steve's, holding his gaze steadily. "We need to relearn each other. All of us."

Steve nods. The air between the three of you feels thick with potential, with possibility and uncertainty in equal measure. You can feel the bonds humming, adjusting, seeking equilibrium.

Bucky is the first to break the silence. "We'll figure it out," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Maybe," you start hesitantly, "we could start with something simple. Neutral ground."

Bucky tilts his head, curious. "What did you have in mind?”

You shrug. “Can’t get more basic than the three of us going back into that house and cooking and sharing a meal together.”

The suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, its simplicity almost startling in contrast to the complexity of your situation. Then, slowly, Steve nods.

"I'd like that," he says softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Bucky's arm loosens slightly around your waist, his posture relaxing a fraction. "Sounds good to me. Though I hope you both remember I'm mostly still a disaster in the kitchen."

You can't help but chuckle, the sound breaking some of the tension. "At least some things never change. Steve, you still remember how to make that pasta dish? The one with the garlic and olive oil?"

Steve's eyes flare with recognition, a piece of the old Steve muscling through. "Aglio e olio? Yeah, I think I can manage that."

As you turn towards the house, Bucky's hand still in yours, you feel Steve fall into step beside you. The proximity makes your spine tingle, your body hyper-aware of both alphas. The bonds pulse gently, adjusting to this new dynamic.

Inside the small kitchen, you all move cautiously at first, cognizant every second of each other's presence. The space feels too small and too large all at once. You begin gathering ingredients, your movements deliberate as you try to establish a sense of normalcy.

"I'll start on the pasta," Steve offers, his voice low. He moves to the stove, careful not to brush against either you or Bucky as he passes.

Bucky nods, then turns to you. "What can I do? Without burning the place down, preferably."

You can't help but smile at that. "How about you set the table? Plates are in the cabinet over there."

As you all settle into your tasks, a fragile rhythm begins to establish itself. The kitchen fills with the sounds of cooking - water boiling, garlic sizzling, plates clinking. It's pure domesticity, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that everything is normal.

But then Steve reaches past you for the olive oil, and you feel the heat of his body, smell his alpha scent. Your breath catches, and you freeze. Bucky tenses immediately, his eyes darting between you and Steve.

The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring. Steve's hand hovers in the air, caught between reaching for the oil and pulling back. His eyes meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You can feel the pulse of the bond between you, raw and uncertain. He worked you through one of your heats, and that experience was unforgettable and crucial to evolving your dynamic. You slept in the same bed for weeks and weeks now - a platonic but intimate negotiation of proximity each night, trusting in each other to some degree, but the bottom line is that the vast majority of the time has been spent with guards up between you until now. This is new and even though you're optimistic, your veins are laced with uncertainty.

Bucky takes a half-step closer, gauging the dynamics of the situation.

You don’t move, but it also means you don’t shrink or flinch. The tension in the room is palpable, but you're determined not to let it derail this tentative journey.

Steve takes the bottle with a nod, his movements careful and deliberate as he returns to the stove. Bucky remains close, his eyes never leaving you as he resumes setting the table.

As the meal comes together, the tension begins to fade again, replaced by a cautious camaraderie from things you all shared in what seems like a lifetime ago.

You find yourself falling into old patterns, teasing Bucky about his lack of culinary skills and offering suggestions to Steve as he stirs the pasta.

But reality reasserts itself in small ways - the way Steve's hand shakes slightly as he plates the food, the protective stance Bucky takes as he moves around the kitchen, the way your own breath catches when both alphas are near.

As you all sit down to eat, the atmosphere relaxes just a fraction again. You take a bite of the pasta, closing your eyes briefly at the familiar taste.

"It's perfect, Steve," you say softly, offering a small smile. "Just like I remember."

Steve's eyes light up for a moment. "I'm glad I could still make it right."

It’s going to be like this, undulating momentum and regression, but even the surety of that seems to settle your mind in its own way.

The alphas tuck in to their plates as well, and then snippets of conversation begin to flow.

"Remember that time in London when we tried to cook for Peggy?" Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Steve chuckles softly, twirling a bite of pasta onto his fork. "How could I forget? Nearly burned down the entire safe house. Neither of us knew how to cook back then."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, even as a twinge of sadness hits you at the mention of Peggy. "I heard about that. Didn't you two end up ordering fish and chips instead?"

"And swore Peggy to secrecy," Steve adds, a ghost of his old grin appearing.

The easy back-and-forth continues as the alphas plate up more pasta and you reach for more bread.

As you all come to the end of your plates of food, the anecdotes ebb away and a more serious tone settles in.

"We’re going to need ground rules," you say, and they both nod. "But I say we start with this. We cook together, we eat together, we talk while we eat.”

“A good start,” Bucky says at the same time Steve murmurs, “Agreed.”

A small warmth travels through your chest, a modicum of surety.

Steve pushes his plate out of the way and leans forward on the table, his voice low as he speaks. "What else did you find in your research?"

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. "Not much concrete, honestly. There were theories, speculation, but nothing definitive. The closest I could find were some old legends, stories of powerful alphas sharing an omega in times of great need or crisis."

Steve nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Makes sense. It's not exactly a common occurrence."

Despite all the uncertainty and complications, you can't shake something in your omega instincts that has you just believing that you can count on these two alphas by your side. Back in Brooklyn, the old Steve was the person you had grown to trust and rely on most outside of Bucky, and whoever this version of Steve is evolving into, it’s clear he is resolute in his investment in this future. It wasn’t something that had emerged out of nowhere today. You could look back and trace the threads of it coming together for a long time now.

It’s Bucky who cuts through the silence again. “I have something to share,” he says slowly, but there’s no hint of hesitancy in his words.

You and Steve turn your full attention to him.

“Well, go on, Buck,” the other alpha urges, his tone somewhere between curious, cautious, and suspicious.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal fingers tapping a soft rhythm on the table. "Over the last year, before all of this happened, I was already doing some research of my own.”

You lean forward, intrigued. "What kind of research?"

"Pack formations," Bucky says, his voice low and steady. "And how they could theoretically work in our modern world."

Your eyes widen, and you lean forward, intrigued. Steve's brow furrows, but he remains silent, waiting for Bucky to continue.

"It started as curiosity," Bucky explains, his voice low and thoughtful. "I'd been reading about wolf packs, about how they function in the wild. And it got me thinking about our own dynamics as alphas and omegas. How we might be able to form something similar, something more... expansive than traditional pairings."

Bucky pauses, his eyes becoming more intense as he recalls his research. "It started with some old texts I found in Wakanda last year. Stories of warrior tribes, of alphas who shared leadership and omegas who bound packs together. At first, I thought it was just folklore, but the more I dug, the more I found."

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest as Bucky speaks.

"They were rare and hard to find, but I found some fascinating anthropological studies on tribal societies in other parts of the world where multiple alphas and omegas lived together as well. They shared responsibilities, shared child-rearing duties. It was all about balance and mutual support."

The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but somehow, it feels right, and your mind is already racing with the implications and possibilities.

He pauses, taking a sip of water before continuing. "I reached out to some contacts - anthropologists, historians, even.”

“Why,” Steve suddenly breaks into the flow of what Bucky was saying, “were you looking into pack formations? What possible motivation did you have before… before that night?”

Bucky's eyes lock onto Steve's. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and he shakes his head slightly.

"Really, Steve?" Bucky's voice is gentle, but there's a hint of reproach in his tone. "After all we've been through, you have to ask that?"

Steve's brow furrows, flickers of doubt and confusion crossing his face. Bucky sighs, leaning back in his chair. The wooden legs scrape softly against the floor as he shifts, the sound punctuating the moment.

"You and I," Bucky continues, his voice low and intense, "we've been part of each other's lives since we were kids in Brooklyn. We've shared everything - scraped knees and stolen apples, first crushes and last dances."

His eyes flick to you briefly before returning to Steve. "And then there was the war, and everything that came after. The ice, the fall, decades apart. But even then, even when I didn't know my own name, some part of me knew you. We've always been connected, Steve. Always."

As Bucky speaks, the air in the room seems to thicken with memories. You can almost see them - two young boys laughing in the streets of Brooklyn, two soldiers standing side by side in the midst of the Great War and later the Infinity War.

Steve swallows, and his gaze is locked on Bucky.

“End of the line,” Bucky reminds him. You’ve heard them say that to each other before.

Steve's expression softens as the weight of Bucky's words sinks in. "Buck..." he starts, his voice rough with emotion.

You watch the interplay between them, feeling the bonds pulse with a complex mix of emotions.

Bucky leans forward, his gaze intense. “When everything with the Infinity War was over, when we were both finally free - you from exile and me from the conditioning - and we got to go home to Brooklyn, it did feel like going home, but it was also different. We’d both changed, grown. And then came our omega.” His eyes meet yours, warm and full of love. “Suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of us. It was three, and everything finally felt right for me.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. You can’t look away from Bucky in this moment, but you do feel Steve’s eyes on you now, too.

“That’s why I started researching pack dynamics,” Bucky continues. His eyes go back to Steve, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I could feel it building, this connection between the three of us. It was more than just friendship, more than just a singular alpha and omega bond. It was… family. Pack.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at Bucky's words, at the acknowledgment of the bond that had been growing between all of you even before everything changed.

Steve's breath catches audibly. "Buck, I… I didn't know. I never thought…"

Bucky reaches out, his hand resting on Steve's forearm. "I know. And I should have said something sooner. To both of you. But I wanted to understand it better first, to see what the possibilities could be. If we hadn’t ended up like we are now, I felt that you would always fiercely protect us, like I would either of you, and if you’d ever bonded with another omega, it seemed natural that I would have felt about them the way you felt about…”

Bucky falters slightly, unable to finish. He squeezes your hand, and you grip it tightly right back.

You know there will be moments like this where the wound is torn open again, but if the three of you are diligent in working to heal, one day it may only be a scar.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The bonds between you all pulse with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

“So,” you prompt, “I already have two bonds, two alphas, but how would a pack potentially work?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering between you and Steve. "The most fascinating part of my research was about the bonding of alphas within a pack," he begins, his voice taking on a tone of eagerness. "It's not like the bond between an alpha and an omega. It's deeper, more primal."

He leans forward, an awe glinting in his eyes. "In the ancient texts I found, there were descriptions of a ritual. A blood bond between alphas."

You look at Steve, and your heart leaps because this moment feels like before, when Bucky would launch into an explanation of something he was passionate about, and you and Steve would go on that journey with him because Bucky was fiercely intelligent, and his enthusiasm when he got like this was irresistible. It’s the briefest of exchanges, but it’s like a suture in your heart.

"A blood bond?" Steve asks, prompting Bucky to continue.

Bucky nods, his metal arm gleaming in the soft light of the kitchen. "The alphas would come together under a full moon, usually in a sacred place - a grove, a mountaintop, somewhere with power. They'd bring their pack, their omegas, as witnesses."

As Bucky speaks, you can almost see it - moonlight filtering through ancient trees, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of alpha pheromones.

As he speaks, you can almost see it - the moonlight filtering through the leaves of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows on a forest floor. The scent of earth and night-blooming flowers and alpha pheromones heavy in the air.

"They'd stand in a circle, usually in a place of power - a clearing in an ancient forest, or atop a windswept hill. Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm with a ceremonial blade."

Bucky's voice drops lower, almost hypnotic as he continues, "Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm, then then they would stand in a circle and join hands, mixing their blood. As they did, they'd recite an oath - swearing to protect and provide for the pack, to lead with wisdom and strength, to share in both the triumphs and burdens."

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Steve leans forward, riveted as he listens.

"The texts described it as transformative. They say that as the oath was spoken there under the light of the full moon, a bond would form between the alphas. Not like an alpha-omega bond, but something different. Complementary. It was said to enhance their ability to protect the pack. Some accounts even mentioned shared thoughts or feelings or drawing on each other’s strength in moments of great need.”

"And the omegas?" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky's eyes meet yours, warm and full of promise. "The omegas were crucial. They were the heart of the pack, the ones who bound it all together. Their presence during the ritual was said to amplify the bond, to make it stronger."

Steve clears his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he speaks. "And you think this could work?”

Bucky's eyes meet Steve's, a fierce determination in their depths. "I think it's worth trying," he says softly. "We're already bonded through our past, and now through our omega. This could complete the circle, so to speak."

Your mind racing with possibilities. The bonds within you pulse with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

"When?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky glances out the window, his expression thoughtful. "The next full moon is in about two weeks. That would give us time to prepare, to adjust to this new dynamic."

Steve nods slowly, his gaze moving between you and Bucky. “You want this, Buck. I want this. But do you want this, Omega?” he asks, shifting his whole body to focus on you.

Your heart beats loudly in your chest, your eyes searching his blues, his searching yours just as diligently.

“I gave you no choice in changing your reality as an omega before, I will never do that again,” he says so fiercely it feels more like a solemn vow.

The blood running through your veins heats up, surging through you with a new fire. You don’t speak. You don’t have the words to convey everything running through your heart, your mind, your soul.

You push your chair back from the table and stand, eyes still fixed on Steve, your movements deliberate as you approach him. The air between you crackles with tension and possibility. Bucky watches intently, his body coiled with anticipation.

You stand before Steve, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes never leave yours as you reach out, cupping his face gently in your hands. You can feel the slight tremor that runs through him at your touch.

"Alpha," you say, the word heavy with meaning.

"Omega," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. Steve's breath quickens, his hands coming up to rest lightly on your waist. The bond between you pulses, warm and alive.

Bucky stands, moving to join you. His presence at your back is solid, comforting. You feel his hand on your hip, anchoring you.

You slide your right hand from his cheek slowly down the column of Steve’s throat until your fingers rest over the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You rub gently over his mating gland, and it evokes a rumble from his chest.

“We've been through so much, all of us,” finally finding words that feel true to this moment. “And despite everything, we're still here. Still together. I think this is how it was always meant to be."

Your fingers trace the contours of Steve's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your touch. Steve's eyes, deep pools of blue, search yours intently, the ever-growing storm of emotions swirling within them - hope, fear, longing, and something deeper, primal.

You can feel the bond between you and Bucky pulsing with encouragement and love, supporting you in this moment.

Time seems to slow as you lean in closer to Steve, your breath mingling with his. You nose down his neck, and he groans when you scent him. The smell of him is a mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely alpha – and all of it familiar. It fills your senses, making your head spin. Your omega instincts finally surge forward, finally feeling the safety you needed, recognizing your alpha, yearning to complete the bond that has been forming between you.

Steve's hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. You can feel the slight tremor in his touch, a mix of trepidation and longing.

You can see the pulse beneath his skin, feel the heat radiating from the spot. You lock eyes with Steve again, asking the silent question. The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring.

Steve tilts his head to the side, offering his neck to you.

Your heart races at the gesture of trust and submission, more surety that he’s relinquishing the dark part that had taken over him. You brush your lips against his skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. Steve's breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue darts out, and you taste the salt of his skin.

"Omega," Steve implores. His scent intensifies, filling the air with pheromones that make your head spin.

Finally, your teeth sink into his flesh, claiming him. The taste of his blood floods your mouth, rich and coppery. Steve’s connection to you - that wall which had been only slowly thawing - suddenly melts away as you bonding yourself to him opens your soul to him. When he’d taken you by force, it had been a physical bond that you couldn’t deny. But an Omega claiming an Alpha in return? It wasn’t unheard of, but it was a ritual that signified a mutual decision of acknowledging only the deepest, purest connections, true partnership between Alpha and Omega.

A deep, guttural groan escapes his throat, reverberating through your body. As you release your bite, you lick the wound gently, soothing it. Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body, and you settle yourself into his lap.

Bucky's hands squeeze your hips, continuing to ground you as you're swept up in the intensity of the moment, but there’s also something primal you sense in the pressure now. You can feel his approval through your existing bond, supporting you as you form this new connection with Steve, but there’s another element there, too. It feels like hunger.

Steve's eyes meet yours, dark with desire. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. The air between you is electric, charged with anticipation. Slowly, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's soft at first, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens as you respond eagerly.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss intensifies. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and you grant it willingly. The taste of him is intoxicating, familiar yet new all at once. A soft moan escapes you as his hands roam your body, igniting sparks wherever they touch. You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing at your core, your clothing separating your sex from his. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as you both give in to the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, you feel Bucky's presence behind you more acutely. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "Omega," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

You break the kiss with Steve, turning your head to look at Bucky over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust, his pupils blown wide. Without hesitation, you reach for him, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Steve's hands continue to roam your body as you kiss Bucky, creating a sensory overload that has you moaning into Bucky's mouth.

“Let’s take her to bed, Buck,” Steve’s words are less of a suggestion and more of a command.

You break the intense kiss with Bucky, turning to face Steve. His eyes are filled with a primal hunger, his alpha instincts taking over. Without a word, he stands up from the chair, pulling you up with him.

Bucky falls into step with the other alpha, and they’re across the small cottage with you next to the bed in seconds.

Steve’s hands, Bucky’s hands, your hands - all three sets work to tug and strip of shirts and pants and undergarments - frenzied yet efficient, until you’re all three naked. Their touch is electrifying and immediately roaming your bare skin, igniting sparks wherever they go. The air is filled with heavy breathing and low growls as they begin to worship every inch of your body.

Steve picks you up effortlessly and lays you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. His mouth seeks out one of your breasts while his hand fondles the other one.

Bucky kneels beside the bed and takes one of your legs in his hand. He trails kisses up from your ankle all the way up to your thigh before finally reaching his destination - your core.

His tongue flicks out teasingly at first before delving deeper into your folds. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his mouth. The combination of their touches has you already on edge, but it's not long before Bucky's expert tongue brings you over that edge.

You cry out, one hand fisting the sheets and the other tangling in Steve’s hair as you come undone.

As you come down from your first orgasm, both alphas shift their positions. Steve moves up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, while Bucky replaces him at your breasts, lavishing them with attention.

Your body hums with pleasure, every nerve ending alive and tingling. You can feel the heat of their arousal pressing against you, their hard cocks at either hip, their scents mingling in the air - a heady, almost overwhelming combination.

"Alpha," you moan, not sure which one you're addressing, or if you mean both. Your hands roam over their muscled bodies, tracing scars and planes of hard muscle.

Steve breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell us what you want, omega," he growls, his voice low and commanding.

You whimper, overwhelmed by sensation and need. "I want... I want both of you," you manage to gasp.

“You have us, ‘mega,” Bucky assures you, murmuring the promise against your skin with the kisses and licks to your breasts, his vibranium hand squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Steve shifts his position, moving between your legs. His eyes lock with yours, seeking permission. You nod, breath catching in anticipation. He enters you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch is exquisite, filling you completely. A low moan escapes your lips as he begins to move, setting a steady rhythm.

As Steve continues his slow, deep thrusts, Bucky moves up the bed, positioning himself near your head. His cock stands proud, hard and glistening with precum. You lick your lips in anticipation, your eyes meeting his with a look of hunger.

Bucky's metal hand cups the back of your head, cool against your heated skin, guiding you gently towards his length. You part your lips, taking him into your mouth with a moan of pleasure. The taste of him explodes on your tongue - salty, musky, and uniquely him.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck.

Bucky's metal hand applies gentle pressure on the back of your head, not pushing, but guiding. As you relax your throat to take him deeper as he nudges more and more insistently, he places his flesh hand over your neck, feeling himself fill you with his length.

"Fuck, Omega," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Your mouth feels too good."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. Neither of your alpha super soldiers are in any kind of hurry. Their actions are deliberate, but it’s clear the only thing they both want in this moment is to be inside of you.

Your body is alive with sensation, caught between the two alphas as they pleasure you. Steve's thrusts grow more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. Fervor but not speed, and each thrust pushes you further onto Bucky's cock, creating a rhythm that has you moaning around him.

Steve's hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises, as he drives into you, and you want it.

"So tight, Omega," he groans against your sternum, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good around me."

Bucky's metal hand threads through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper into your throat. His flesh hand remains on your neck, feeling the bulge of his cock as it slides in and out. The dual sensations of being filled at both ends has you trembling with pleasure.

"That's it," Bucky encourages, his voice husky. "Take us, sweetheart.”

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, your inner omega preening at the approval of your alphas.

Both of them.

Yours.

The thought makes you whimper.

"Ready for my cum, Omega?" Bucky pants, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the first pulses as he throbs in your mouth, and you moan, blinking up at him, eyes watering but encouraging him to spill inside you.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he swears, and then his hips stutter and he groans as he begins to spill his release down your throat.

Your omega purrs in contentment as you swallow some of his seed, relishing in the taste of him. But before he finishes, Bucky pulls out of your mouth and pushes at Steve's shoulders to move quickly.

Steve understands immediately and pushes up with one hand, his other still gripping your hip. Then Bucky is fisting his cock, shooting the rest of his spend over your breasts, your chest heaving as your lungs greedily gulp in oxygen.

Bucky leans over you, his metal hand cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. You open your mouth to him eagerly, tongues tangling. His other hand moves to your breasts to rub the sticky mess of his cum over your tender flesh. He moans in what you can feel through the bond is satisfaction at the taste of himself on your lips and the primal marking of your chest. You indulge in the kiss you’re in desperate need for air, and push gently against him. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then pulls away and kneels above you to watch.

"You look so good taking his cock," Bucky remarks as Steve continues to thrust into you with precision.

Your pussy clenches at his words, and Steve groans in response.

“You should let her ride you, Steve,” Bucky continues. “She’s a glorious sight like that.”

Your heart stutters, and you look up at Bucky, only somewhat incredulously. And that satisfied curve of his lips, so familiar, makes your stomach rush with butterflies, and you chirp for him.

“Oh, that’s a sweet sound,” Steve exclaims in a rush, and before you can think another thought, another chirp bubbles up out of your chest, and you’re tumbling as in one fluid motion Steve flips your positions so he’s on his back and you’re above him, still impaled on his cock.

You suck in a breath at the feel of the new position. It causes his cock to hit new angles inside you. Your hands brace against his chest as you adjust, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you start to move.

Bucky is already languidly fisting his cock as he watches you, half-hard again, your ever-insatiable alpha with next to no refractory period due to the serum that enhanced his body in every way.

And now you have two of them.

You begin to roll your hips, finding a rhythm that has you both moaning. The new position allows you to control the depth and speed, and you revel in the power it gives you. Steve's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you move above him, his gaze roaming over your body.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands sliding up your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, then your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He presses his chest against your back as his hands come up to cup your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The dual stimulation has you moaning, your movements becoming more urgent.

You lean back against Bucky's chest, your head falling onto his shoulder as you continue to ride Steve. The new angle allows Steve to thrust up into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes you forget anything else on the face of the earth, and still it seems he’s in no rush to get to his release.

Bucky turns your head, demanding your lips for more kisses again, and you mold your lips to his. He strokes your tongue with his tongue, mimicking the way he had had his mouth on your other lips earlier. He’s always eager to kiss you until you can’t breathe, driving you to that light-headed pleasure once more.

You’re panting, your entire body trembling with need as Bucky breaks off the kiss and presses a hand to the small of your back, urging you forward. You know what he wants, and you readily comply, lowering yourself down onto Steve’s chest.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands spreading the round cheeks of your ass to expose your tightest hole. He presses the head of his cock against the puckered ring of muscle, eliciting a gasp from you as he starts to slowly push inside. He’s taken you like this before, but never with another cock in your cunt at the same time. You feel stretched in the most delicious, almost impossible ways. Bucky slowly fills you up, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into you until he is buried to the hilt. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before starting to move.

He sets a slow pace at first, sliding in and out of you with long strokes that have you moaning between them. You can feel every inch of him rubbing against sensitive nerve endings inside you, driving your arousal higher and higher.

Steve had stilled his movements, in awe and happy to pause in order to watch with increasing lust and need in his eyes. Once he sees Bucky has settled into a rhythm, Steve adjusts to work in tandem with him, thrusting up into you again.

You can feel every inch of them inside you. Bucky picks up speed, but Steve maintains his earlier slow pace. Wanting him to let go, you set your mouth to the fresh bonding mark you gave him and suck insistently. He growls, and you get exactly what you want, as his hips snap faster and harder, both men pounding into you with a rhythm that has become almost primal.

"Alpha... alph-ah!" You cry out their names incoherently as the orgasm hits with full force. Your release crashes over you like a wave, making your body tremble with its intensity. But before it can fully ebb away, Bucky's hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that send another wave of pleasure through you. Your vision goes white as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, your back arching as your muscles simultaneously strain and revel in the ecstasy.

Steve follows soon after, giving one final thrust before he's filling you with his hot release. Bucky is right behind him, and fills you with another load.

As you catch your breath, Steve pulls out of you and lays back on the bed, spent. Bucky, still inside you, leans down to kiss your neck as he slowly pulls out as well. You shift so you’re only draped over half of Steve, pressed into his side, one leg bent up over his hip, and Bucky presses up behind you. You feel them drip out of you between your thighs, the mess trickling over Steve’s thigh and down onto the sheets, but no one seems to mind or care.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Steve sits up and looks between the two of you. “We should get cleaned up.”

You nod in agreement and Bucky chuckles before getting up as well. The three of you head to the bathroom together, sharing kisses and some heated touches as you clean each other off under the warm spray of a quick shower.

The alphas change the sheets while you towel your hair dry and brush your teeth.

You collapse onto the fresh linens, feeling utterly spent but deeply satisfied. Your body hums with residual pleasure as you settle into the middle of the bed. Both men come to join you on either side of the mattress, but before Steve can, you turn to him and put your arm out over the spot he is about to occupy.

“Wait!”

Steve tilts his head, a small frown taking over his face.

“Will you open the window?”

He arches an eyebrow.

“Please?” you give him the softest, most pleading eyes that you can.

He shakes his head, but then smiles and strides away to go open the front window, moving quickly to satisfy your request. Your chest warms, and you realize it’s not Steve’s willingness to do something you ask - he’s been a much more dutiful companion since you two escaped from Hydra - but it’s because it’s the first time you have seen him genuinely smile since all of you were back home in Brooklyn.

What’s more, as Steve returns to the bed and slides in next to you, your mind considers that this is the first night you will have shared the bed with Steve. You had slept on the same mattress for weeks - at first with you refusing to even get under the covers - but even last night, it was still a functional practice. Tonight, you want to feel his presence close by, the intimate sharing of a space while you’re both vulnerable in sleep, and you want it with him as much as you want it from Bucky.

Today transformed everything, and for the first time in months, you feel unquestionably safe.

You curl into his side, resting your head on his chest, and Bucky presses up against your back. His metal arm drapes over your waist, cool against your bare skin. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and Steve trails his fingers back and forth in soothing patterns over your arm. The bonds between you and your alphas pulse with contentment.

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of your alphas. Moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting ethereal shadows that dance and sway with each gentle breeze. The antique clock on the dresser ticks steadily, marking the late hour.

The cool night air drifts in through the open window, carrying with it the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers, and being held so warmly between your two alphas, you nearly drop off to sleep, when they start talking.

It’s Steve who speaks first, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Do you really think this pack bond will work?"

You feel Bucky shift behind you, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Steve over your shoulder. "I do," he says firmly. "We've always been stronger together, Steve. This just makes it official."

You trace lazy patterns on Steve's chest as you consider their words.

"He's right," you murmur, your voice soft but sure. "We've always been meant for this, I think. Even before... everything." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Back in Brooklyn, it always felt like we were more together. Something bigger than just friendship or traditional bonds."

Steve's hand finds yours on his chest, intertwining your fingers. "I felt it that, too," he admits quietly.

“Family,” you hum.

“A pack.”

"In the morning, we should start planning for the ritual," Bucky murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your back.

You nod sleepily, your eyes already heavy. "Mmm, good idea," you mumble.

Steve's chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "We'll need to find the right location," he says thoughtfully. "Somewhere with meaning for all of us."

Bucky hums in agreement. "And we'll need to gather the necessary items. The ceremonial blade, for one."

You're drifting off, lulled by their voices and the warmth of their bodies, but you manage to add, "Don't forget the full moon. Two weeks..."

Your words trail off as sleep claims you, nestled safely between your alphas. The last thing you're aware of is Steve pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and Bucky explaining some of the beliefs about the energy of a full moon and the significance of this coming full moon in particular.

Exhausted but also content for the first time in months, you sleep all the way through the night.

The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon when you stir, consciousness slowly returning. You're enveloped in warmth, cocooned between two solid bodies. For a moment, you keep your eyes closed, savoring the peaceful feeling.

Bucky's metal arm is still draped over your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, indicating he's still asleep. On your other side, Steve's hand rests on your hip, his body curled protectively around you. Their scents mingle in the air around you, a comforting cocoon of alpha pheromones that makes your omega purr with contentment.

You blink your eyes open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The room is bathed in a golden glow, giving everything an almost dreamlike quality. For a brief moment, you wonder if this is all a dream - if you'll wake up back in a cold Hydra facility.

But then Steve shifts beside you, his hand tightening on your hip. His blue eyes flutter open, immediately finding yours. A soft smile curves his lips as he takes you in.

"Good morning, Omega," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You return his smile, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. "Good morning, Alpha.

As you and Steve exchange soft morning greetings, a gentle "meow" breaks the quiet. Your eyes widen in delight, and Steve's head turns towards the sound. There, at the foot of the bed on Steve's side, a graceful white cat has just leapt up and landed with the lightest of touches. Her fur is pristine, almost glowing in the golden morning light filtering through the curtains.

The cat's sapphire blue eyes blink slowly at you both, her tail swishing gently behind her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo at the feline who has been coming around the cottage more and more often the past few days. You stretch your arm out and beckon her to come closer, meowing at her.

She stretches languidly, arching her back and extending her paws, before padding softly up the bed. Her movements are deliberate and elegant, each step barely making an impression on the blankets.

The cat pauses near Steve's hip, tilting its head as if assessing the situation. Its whiskers twitch slightly, picking up the subtle changes in the air currents caused by your breathing. Then, with a soft chirp, she steps up onto Steve’s hip, and then she settles in the small space between you and Steve. You brgin to lavish her with head scratches and soft pets. Her purrs vibrate against your chest. Steve watches with a mix of amusement and wonder, his hand coming up to gently stroke her silky fur.

"I didn't know we were expecting a visitor," he murmurs, his voice still husky from sleep.

You smile, continuing to scratch behind the cat's ears. "She's been coming around more often lately. You’re usually up and out for a run when she drops in for her morning visit. I think she likes us."

The cat's purrs intensify as she receives attention from both of you. Her sapphire eyes close in contentment, her paws kneading gently against the blankets.

Behind you, Bucky stirs, his arm tightening around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "Mmm, too early for talking," he mumbles sleepily.

You chuckle softly at Bucky's sleepy grumbling. "We have a visitor, Buck," you say, your voice warm with amusement.

Bucky grunts and props himself up on one elbow, peering over your shoulder. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of the white cat nestled between you and Steve.

"Well, hello there," he says, his voice still rough with sleep. The cat opens one eye to regard him before closing it again, clearly unimpressed by the interruption to her petting session.

Bucky reaches over you to gently scratch under the cat's chin. She leans into his touch, ready to indulge more attention, her purrs intensifying. "Friendly little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.

Steve laughs softly. "This,” he explains to Bucky, “is why our omega wanted a window left open overnight. Had to make sure our familiar intruder could come in. I think she's made herself quite at home.”

You nod, continuing to stroke the cat's soft fur. "She has. I've been thinking we should keep her.”

The cat stretches lazily, rolling onto her back to expose her fluffy white belly. Her paws knead the air as she basks in the attention from all three of you.

"Keep her?" Bucky asks, his voice soft.

You nod, a hopeful smile on your face. "If you both agree, of course. She seems to have chosen us already."

Steve's hand stills on the cat's fur as he considers. His eyes meet yours, then Bucky's, before returning to the contented feline between you. "It would be nice to have a pet," he muses. "Something normal, after everything."

Bucky hums in agreement. "Plus, cats are good for stress relief. And lord knows we could all use some of that."

The cat chooses that moment to roll back over and stretch, her paws reaching out to knead gently against the duvet. Her sapphire eyes blink slowly at Steve, as if sealing her approval of this arrangement.

Steve chuckles, running his hand along her sleek back. "I think that settles it. She's stays with us."

You beam, your heart swelling with happiness. "She needs a name," you say, scratching behind her ears.

Bucky props himself up on his elbow, his metal arm still draped over your waist. "How about Alpine?" he suggests.

The name feels right, and you nod. "Alpine. I love it."

Alpine purrs contentedly, seeming to approve of her new name. She stretches again, her white fur gleaming in the morning light, before curling up in a tight ball between you and Steve.

"I think she's made herself right at home," Steve says with a soft chuckle, his hand gently stroking Alpine's back.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the domestic scene. It's such a stark contrast to where you were just weeks ago - trapped in a Hydra facility, uncertain of your future. Now, here you are, nestled between your two alphas, with a cat curled up beside you. It feels like a dream.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by Alpine's soft purrs and the gentle rustling of leaves outside the open window. The morning light grows stronger, casting a warm glow across the bed.

Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "Breakfast?" he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep.

“I thought I might go for a run first,” Steve says.

“You should,” you respond.

“I know we said meals together, but–”

You smile softly at Steve. "We'll wait for you to get back," you reassure him. "It's going to be important for all of us to have routines."

Steve's eyes soften with gratitude. He leans over, careful not to disturb Alpine, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I won’t be long," he murmurs against your skin.

With careful movements, Steve extricates himself from the bed. Alpine mewls in protest at the disturbance but quickly settles back down, curling into the warm spot Steve left behind.

You curl back into Bucky's warmth. His metal arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky murmurs into your hair, his voice low and intimate.

You take a moment to consider Bucky's question, assessing your body and emotions. "I feel... good," you say softly, a hint of surprise in your voice. "For the first time in weeks, I feel safe. Whole again."

Bucky hums in approval, his metal fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. "I'm so glad, sweetheart."

You turn in his arms and snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Alpine stretches and repositions herself against your back, her purrs a soothing vibration against your skin.

“I haven’t forgotten everything that has happened,” you explain, “but I don’t want to hold onto all of that forever. I think we have solid ground between all three of us to move forward.”

Bucky squeezes you tightly. “I think so, too.”

You pull your head back so you can see his face, your eyes searching his. "What about you, Buck? How are you feeling about all of this?"

His blue eyes are soft as they meet yours. "Honestly? I feel like a person again. I shut everything off until I finally saw your face yesterday."

You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “We both needed each other.”

“Are you upset I didn’t say anything about the pack to you before?”

You only pause for a moment, looking for the right words. “No, before the incident, you were still researching. Yesterday, I think you wanted to assess the situation with Steve before you put it out there for either of us to consider.”

He smiles. “Always my smart omega.”

You chirp, and he kisses you.

The movement shifts Alpine again, but this, apparently, is the last she’s willing to suffer a disturbance, and she saunters away and hops up into a nearby windowsill where she settles into a loaf so she can soak up all the direct morning sunlight uninterrupted.

“I know I’m only going on gut instinct with Steve, but with my eyes wide open, I don’t feel like I’m wrong.”

You trace your fingers over his forehead, soothing his furrowed brow. “I think you can trust your gut. There’s something I didn’t tell you yesterday when it was still just us.”

“Oh?”

“I think I was waiting to see how you two would handle each other. But I found something…”

You slip out of his arms and roll out of the sheets. When your feet his the floor, you duck down next to the bed, lift the mattress slightly, and reach between the mattress and the boxspring, sliding your hand in until your fingers find and latch onto what you’re looking for. You stand back up and show Bucky.

“Why was there a pillowcase wedged under the mattress?” he asks.

You toss it to him, and he catches it easily. “Smell it.”

He cautiously takes a whiff, and then his head snaps back to you. “This is-”

“Yep.”

He takes a longer inhale of the soft fabric.

“It’s your pillowcase, Buck. He was regularly going on missions while we were at the first Hydra facility - not significantly long ones, usually only a day, once there was a two-day absence, but he was gone when you broke into the facility and they evacuated me away. He knew my heat was coming up. He went to our home in Brooklyn, and he brought something back that smelled like you, something small and innocuous that he could hide both from me and from Hydra. I didn’t realize it was there at first. Everything happened so quickly and I was in a pre-heat mess, then in heat. But once we were here and settled, I realized that as impossible as it should have been, there was a trace of your scent here. I found it while he was on one of his morning runs. He went to considerable trouble to go and bring me something that smelled like you.”

Bucky's eyes widen as he processes what you're telling him. He brings the pillowcase to his nose again, inhaling deeply. His scent mingles with the faint traces of yours and Steve's, creating a complex blend that speaks of home and pack.

"He did that. For you." Bucky's voice is soft, tinged with a mix of wonder and something like resolve.

You nod, settling back onto the bed beside him. "I think a part of him was fighting against the conditioning even then. He knew how much I needed you, how much having your scent nearby would comfort me. He was an alpha taking care of his omega."

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the edges of the pillowcase. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "That's our Steve. The one we knew before all this. He's still in there."

You crawl back up on the bed and lean against his chest, his arm coming around to hold you close. The weight of his metal arm is comforting, grounding. You both sit in contemplative silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room Alpine's soft purrs from her sunny perch.

"I refused to acknowledge it at first," you say softly. "But as the weeks wore on, there were little chips in the armor - his and mine - and I could see the small shifts. The Steve we knew is still there. He's fighting his way back to us."

Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And we'll be here to help him every step of the way."

You nod, feeling a renewed sense of hope blooming in your chest. The morning light continues to strengthen, filling the room with a warm glow. You can hear birds chirping outside, the world coming alive with the new day. It feels like a metaphor for your own situation - emerging from a long, dark night into the promise of sunlight and warmth again.

You and Bucky remain cuddled together in comfortable silence for a while, lost in your own thoughts. The morning light grows stronger, casting long shadows across the room. Alpine stretches lazily in her sunny spot on the windowsill, her white fur appears almost ethereal as she basks in the warmth.

The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers drifts in through the open window, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles the curtains. You can hear the distant calls of birds greeting the day, their songs a melodic backdrop to the peaceful morning.

As you lie there, your mind wanders to Steve, out on his morning run. You picture him jogging along the winding forest paths and country roads, his powerful strides eating up the miles. He’s been gone for almost an hour, and you know he should be returning soon based on the previous days as you’ve been in this cottage together.

“I think I want to go meet Steve on his way back and go for a walk with him. Do you mind?”

Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek. "Of course not, sweetheart. Go ahead. I'll start on breakfast for when you two get back. Nothing complicated," he says with a wink.

You smile gratefully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sliding out of bed. As you dress in comfortable clothes suitable for a morning walk, you can hear Bucky moving around behind you, the soft rustling of sheets as he gets up.

As you're lacing up your shoes, Alpine hops down from her perch and winds herself around your ankles, meowing softly.

"Sorry, sweet girl," you coo, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. "You stay here with Bucky. I'll be back soon."

You give Bucky one last smile before heading out the door. The morning air is crisp and invigorating as you step outside, filled with the scents of pine, the aspen trees, and wildflowers that you have grown fond of here over the last week. Dew clings to the grass, sparkling in the early sunlight. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh, clean scent, and step off the porch.

The forest around you is alive with the sounds of birds and small animals going about their morning routines. Sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the path before you with patches of golden light.

As you walk, you let your mind wander, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks. So much has changed in such a short time - and even more in the last twenty-four hours. You've gone from being a captive, wounded and betrayed, uncertain of your future, to being here in this peaceful place with both of your alphas. The thought brings a warmth to your chest.

You've been walking for about ten minutes when you catch Steve's scent on the breeze. Your heart quickens a little in anticipation. A moment later, you hear the steady rhythm of his footfalls approaching. As he rounds a bend in the path, his eyes lock onto yours and a slightly hesitant smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says as he slows to a stop in front of you. He's slightly out of breath, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. "This is a welcome surprise."

“I wanted to talk, just us.”

Steve's smile softens, a mix of gratitude and nervousness flickering across his features. "Of course," he says, gesturing to the path ahead. "Shall we?"

You nod, falling into step beside him as you continue down the winding forest trail. For a few moments, you walk in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath your feet and the melodic chirping of birds overhead.

"How was your run?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

"Good," Steve replies. "Helps clear my head." He pauses, then adds softly, "Gives me time to think about... everything."

You nod, understanding. "There's a lot to process."

Steve hums in agreement. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this has all been a dream. Or a nightmare, and that I'm back... there." His voice trails off. “Or that I’m back in Brooklyn and none of this had happened. But it has.”

Steve's fingers tentatively reach out to intertwine with yours, his grip firm but gentle. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he says softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "I hurt you both so much."

"Steve," you say, tugging on his hand to make him stop and look at you.

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes filled with a mix of emotions - guilt, hope, and something deeper that makes your heart skip a beat.

"We've all been through hell," you continue. "What happened wasn't your fault. You were being controlled, manipulated. Yes we were hurt, even devastated. But the fact that you fought against it, that you're fighting your way back to us? That’s all I care about now, and I know Bucky feels the same.”

His blue eyes search yours, vulnerability clear in his gaze. "How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because I know you, Steve Rogers.” Your bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. “I know your heart.”

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, they're shining with unshed tears.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers. "Either of you."

You shake your head. "That's not for you to decide. We choose you, Steve. We want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. "I want to be worthy of that choice."

"You already are," you assure him. "But I know it'll take time for you to believe that."

Steve nods, a look of determination settling over his features. "I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you both. To be the alpha you deserve."

"Just be you, Steve,” you whisper. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I feel like the weight of all this will never truly go away,” he confesses.

“The work of healing is hard, but you won’t do it alone.”

He groans your name, and you can feel the guilt masking as irritation.

“And I think we should get help,” you press. “And I think we should go back to Wakanda to get it.”

Steve turns away and starts pacing. You watch him for a moment, his agitation clear in the tense set of his shoulders. You know this suggestion isn't easy for him to hear, but you also know it's necessary.

"Alpha," you say gently, stepping into his path to halt his pacing. "Look at me, please."

It’s not like an alpha command, but you know the unique power an omega can invoke for an alpha to listen to their request.

"Wakanda?" Steve asks, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of wariness. He stops pacing and turns back to face you. The turmoil in his eyes is evident. "Why Wakanda specifically?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "They have the most advanced technology and medical expertise in the world. If anyone can help us navigate the aftermath of what Hydra did, it's them. Plus," you add softly, "they've helped Bucky before. They understand the complexities of deprogramming and healing from that kind of trauma."

Steve's brow furrows as he considers your words. You can see the conflict playing out across his face - the desire to heal warring with his ingrained instinct to protect and isolate.

"I understand why you're suggesting this," Steve says slowly, his eyes meeting yours. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to face… everyone. To be around other people."

You step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We wouldn't have to see anyone we don't want to. Wakanda is a big place, and I'm sure T'Challa would respect our privacy. We could stay somewhere secluded, just the three of us, and only interact with the medical staff when necessary."

Steve's shoulders relax slightly at your words, but you can still see the tension in his jaw. "What about Bucky? Have you discussed this with him?"

You shake your head. "Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. But I think he’ll agree it's a good idea. He knows better than anyone how helpful Wakanda can be for recovery."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods, processing for another moment.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "We can't – I can't do this alone. And Wakanda does have resources we couldn't find anywhere else."

You reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And a deep kinship you and Bucky established. That matters."

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It does," he agrees, squeezing your hand in return.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," you say, your voice soft but steady.

Steve's brow furrows slightly, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his features. "What is it?" he asks gently.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I found the pillowcase," you say softly, watching his face carefully for his reaction.

Steve's eyes widen in recognition, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Oh," he breathes, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed."

You step closer to him, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Why did you do it, Steve?"

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. "Because even when I couldn't remember who I was, who you were to me... I knew I had to take care of my omega, and I knew you needed him."

“That, the clothes, the books, forcing me to accept my heat naturally so I didn’t experience a dry heat, mounting our risky but well-calculated escape… I think it speaks to more than being my alpha. You did them because you’re still you. I think it’s time for you to start believing that, too.”

His hand comes up to cover yours on his chest, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I want to believe that," he says softly. "But sometimes it feels like I'm still fighting against the programming, like I could slip back at any moment."

You shake your head, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You won't," you say with conviction. "You're stronger than that, Steve. And we won’t let you get lost. I think it’s another thing becoming a pack will help."

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, there's a new resolve in his gaze.

"You're right," Steve says, his voice growing stronger. "We're stronger together. And if becoming a pack will help us all heal and move forward, then that's what we need to do."

You smile up at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. I think it's the right step for all of us."

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melt into his arms, breathing in his comforting scent. For a moment, you just stand there, holding each other in the quiet of the forest.

You tilt your head back to look up at Steve, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the intensity in his blue eyes. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it to spun gold. Your heart quickens as his gaze drops to your lips, his pupils dilating slightly.

Before he claimed you as Captain Hydra, the Steve before - the Steve you knew in Brooklyn - had grown to be one of your closest friends. Next to Bucky, he was the person you trusted the most. There had been such a safety with him. There had never been a romantic twist or temptation, just a steadfast bond that formed.

But now, now that he's not the terrifying alpha who forcefully bonded you, but now that he's becoming Steve again and is your alpha? Your heart is starting to beat for him now, too.

Time seems to slow as Steve leans in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, reverent, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he holds you too tightly. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and his thumb gently traces the line of your cheekbone. The tenderness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes flutter closed as Steve's lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It's gentle at first, almost chaste, but as you respond, melting into him, the kiss deepens. Steve's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry.

You part your lips with a soft sigh, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. The kiss grows more passionate, a slow burn igniting between you. Steve's scent envelops you, a heady mixture of pine, clean sweat, and something uniquely him that makes your omega purr with contentment.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily. Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors the moment.

This feels like your first true kiss - the one that will matter for your future.

"We should head back," he says. "Bucky's probably wondering where we are."

You nod, taking his hand as you start walking back towards the cottage.

When the cottage comes into view, you see Bucky sitting on the porch steps, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight, and Alpine curled up next to him. He looks up as you approach, a mixture of relief and curiosity crossing his features.

"There you are," he says, standing up as you draw near. "I was starting to worry."

Steve gives him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, Buck. We’re good."

Bucky's eyes flick between you and Steve, taking in your joined hands and the lingering flush on your cheeks. A knowing smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth. "I can see that," he says, his voice warm with affection. "Everything okay?"

You nod, squeezing Steve's hand. "Yes. Actually, we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

Bucky's eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods, gesturing towards the door. "Let's head inside then. We can talk over breakfast."

The three of you make your way into the cozy cottage. Alpine trails along as well. You note how quickly she has gravitated to Bucky, and you can’t help but grin. Breakfast is simple, but the three of you move together in the kitchen to quickly pull things together, then bring it all to the table and set in.

"So," Bucky says, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "What do you want to discuss?"

You set down your piece of toast and swallow. “Wakanda.”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Wakanda?" he repeats, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Steve nods, and you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm. "We’ve just been talking about it, Buck. We think it might be good for us to go there for a while."

Bucky sets his fork down, his brow furrowing as he processes this information. "For treatment?" he asks softly, his eyes meeting Steve's.

You lean forward, your voice gentle but firm. "For all of us, Bucky. We all need time to heal, to adjust. And Wakanda has resources we can't find anywhere else."

Bucky's gaze shifts to you, his expression softening. "You're right about that," he admits. "The time I spent there, well, even in just two weeks there it helped more than the time I spent trying to fix things on my own the two years before that.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as he processes this information. You can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons.

"It's a good idea," he says finally, his voice soft but certain. "Wakanda would also be an appropriate place to perform the pack rites and rituals. And..." he pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, "I miss Shuri's jokes about my arm."

You and Steve both laugh. Steve was going to be your tougher sell, but you’re still relieved Bucky is sold on the plan. Having a plan is reassuring, and there are many more plans you all need to discuss this morning.

“Wakanda is perfect, actually. I’ll reach out to Shuri and see if they could even send one of the Dora Milaje to come escort you there and keep you safe until Steve and I follow and join you.”

“What?” you asked, not anticipating this suggestion at all.

Bucky looks at Steve. “We have loose ends to clip.”

Steve nods.

"Absolutely not!" you protest, your voice rising. "We're not splitting up. We just found each other again."

Steve reaches out, placing a calming hand on your arm. "It's just for a short time," he says softly. "We need to make sure there's no trail leading back to you, to us. Bucky and I can handle it quickly and efficiently."

You shake your head, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. "No. We're stronger together. Isn't that what we all agreed on?"

Bucky leans forward, his eyes meeting yours. "Omega, we're trying to protect you. To protect our future together. If there's even a chance someone could track us down..."

You feel a chill run down your spine at the edge in Bucky's voice. You know exactly who he's talking about - the people responsible for what happened to Steve.

"I understand why you want to do this," you say, looking between them. "But I can't just sit safely in Wakanda while you two put yourselves in danger. We face it together."

Steve's jaw tightens. "No, Omega. Not this time. There’s no question about this - it's too dangerous."

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt at his words. "I'm not some useless and fragile thing that needs to be protected, Steve."

Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Omega, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. This isn't about you being fragile. This is about Hydra, and we need to know you're safe while we take care of them."

You pull your hand away, standing up abruptly. "And what if something happens to you? What if you don't come back? I can't lose you again. Either of you."

Steve stands as well, moving around the table to pull you into his arms. You resist at first, but eventually melt into his embrace. "We will come back," he murmurs into your hair. "I promise you. We've been through too much to lose each other now."

You cling to him, breathing in his scent, trying to calm your racing heart. "I hate this," you whisper. "I hate feeling helpless."

Bucky comes up behind you, sandwiching you between him and Steve. His metal arm wraps around your waist, cool against your skin. "You're not helpless," he says softly. "You're our anchor. Our reason for coming back."

You turn your head to look at him, seeing the determination in his steel-blue eyes. "Promise me," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Promise me you'll both come back."

Bucky's eyes soften as he meets your gaze. "We promise," he says, his voice low and fervent. "We'll always come back to you."

Steve nods, his arms tightening around you. "Always," he echoes, his breath warm against your ear.

You feel a shiver run through you at their words, at the intensity in their eyes. The air around you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes your skin tingle.

Bucky leans in, his lips brushing against your neck. "Let us show you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in your belly. "Let us prove our promise."

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your heart yearning for this, even though you know they can’t guarantee their promises, only their intentions.

You need this.

The air grows thick with the scent of arousal as Steve's lips find your other side, trailing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Yes," you breathe, tilting your head to give them better access. "Show me."

In a fluid motion, Steve lifts you into his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. Bucky follows close behind, his eyes dark with desire. As Steve gently lays you on the bed, Bucky's hands are already working at the buttons of your shirt.

"We've got you, Omega," Steve murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "We'll always come back to you."

Bucky's metal hand slides under your shirt, cool against your heated skin. "You're ours," he growls softly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. "And we're yours. Always."

Your breath catches as their hands and mouths explore your body, peeling away layers of clothing. Steve's lips trail down your collarbone while Bucky's metal fingers dance along your inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"Please," you gasp, arching into their touch. "I need you both."

Steve pulls back, his eyes dark with desire as he meets your gaze. "We're here, Omega. We've got you."

Bucky's hand slides up to cup your face, turning you towards him for a deep, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as Steve's fingers find your most sensitive spots, teasing and stroking with expert precision.

Your body arches as waves of pleasure wash over you, Steve and Bucky's touches setting every nerve ending alight. Their scents mingle in the air - pine and metal, sweat and arousal - surrounding you in a cocoon of desire and comfort.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck as Steve moves lower, his mouth replacing his fingers. You cry out at the sensation, one hand tangling in Steve's hair while the other grips Bucky's metal arm.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmurs against your skin. "Let us take care of you."

Steve hums in agreement, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.

Bucky's flesh hand finds your breast, kneading gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple. Steve tenderly kisses and licks your cunt, while Bucky’s mouth latches onto your other breast. Then, Bucky moves down the bed and spreads your legs wider to make room for both of your alpha super soldiers. He begins kissing up your inner thigh, and then they take turns giving you pleasure in your most intimate area, worshipping your sex until you’re dripping, writhing, and begging for more.

Steve moves to the head of the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. With gentle hands, Bucky flips you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You shiver in anticipation as you feel Bucky's strong hands grip your hips, positioning you. The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. Steve cups your face tenderly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You gasp as Bucky slowly enters you from behind, stretching and filling you deliciously. Steve's hand tangles in your hair, gently guiding your mouth to his hardened length. You eagerly take him in, moaning around him as Bucky begins to move.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. Bucky's thrusts are deep and measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Steve's fingers massage your scalp as you work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky growls, his grip on your hips tightening. "You feel so good."

Steve's breath hitches as you take him deeper. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for us."

"Are you ready for us, Omega?" Steve asks, his voice thick with need.

You nod eagerly, your body thrumming with desire. "Please," you breathe, looking up at Steve through your lashes. He dips down to take your lips in a brief, possessive kiss.

Your body trembles with anticipation as Steve pulls away from your mouth, his hand guiding you back into position. You moan around him, loving the feeling of being filled by both of your alpha super soldiers.

Bucky's thrusts become more urgent, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. "You feel so good," he growls.

Steve's fingers dig into your hair as he begins to move faster in your mouth. You eagerly take him in, wanting to please both of them. The intensity of having them both inside you is almost overwhelming, but it's a the kind of overload that you need right now.

As they move together in tandem, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Then you're lost in a haze of pleasure with your release. All you can think about is how they fill you physically, and how they consume every inch of your soul now as well.

Bucky's thrusts become more erratic as he buries himself deep inside you one final time before finding his release. His grunts and groans mix with Steve's moans as he comes undone in your mouth.

Feeling the vibrations from their orgasms only heightens your own pleasure. Your walls clench around Bucky as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body.

The three of you collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Breathing heavily, Bucky pulls out and collapses next to you while Steve rests against the headboard.

You lay there for several moments, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. Steve's hand gently strokes your hair while Bucky's metal arm drapes protectively across your waist. The room is quiet except for your collective breathing gradually slowing to a normal pace.

"I still don't like the idea of being separated," you murmur, breaking the silence.

Steve sighs softly, his fingers still carding through your hair. "We know, sweetheart.”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "It won't be for long. Just enough time for us to tie up loose ends and make sure no one can track us."

"I understand," you say softly, "but I still wish there was another way."

Steve leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We'll be as quick as we can," he promises. "And we'll stay in regular contact."

Bucky nods in agreement. "You know we won't take any unnecessary risks. The goal is to get back to you as soon as possible."

You sigh, snuggling closer to both of them. "I know. I trust you both. It's just... after everything we've been through, the thought of being apart again is terrifying."

"We feel the same," Steve murmurs, his arm tightening around you. "But this is to protect our future. To make sure we can live without always looking over our shoulders."

Bucky's metal fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin. "You’re strong, Omega, this will be nothing compared to,” Bucky pauses, and you feel both alphas tense.

“Compared to what I put you through,” Steve finishes.

You turn to face Steve, cupping his cheek gently. "That wasn't you," you say firmly.

Steve's eyes are still haunted as he meets your gaze. "But I still did those things. I still hurt you."

Bucky reaches over, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "We've both done things we regret under Hydra's control. But we're free now."

You nod, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. "And we're moving forward. Together."

Steve pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he breathes in your scent.

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future," Bucky reminds him.

"You're right," Steve murmurs after a moment.

“I know, punk. You’re the one who told me that over and over and over. I’ll remind you as many times as you need, because that’s what you did for me.”

"Thank you," Steve says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You snuggle closer to Steve, feeling Bucky press against your back. The warmth of their bodies and the mingling of your scents creates a cocoon of comfort and safety.

"You'll never have to find out," you murmur, pressing a kiss to Steve's chest.

Bucky hums in agreement, his metal arm draping over both you and Steve. "Till the end of the line, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Steve chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Omega,” his voice turns serious again, “you woke me up from the nightmare, helped me shed the specter of Captain Hydra; and yesterday you anchored me back to my true self again, Buck.”

Your heart both aches and soars, and you have to kiss him. When you break off, Bucky reaches for Steve’s head, and then he presses their foreheads together over your shoulder. It’s an intimate moment between all of you that you don't want to break, and so you don’t and neither do they.

You lie there in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the closeness of your alphas. Despite the lingering anxiety about the upcoming separation, you feel safe now. You feel loved now. You never want to leave this now.

“I’ll go,” you finally whisper. “But can it be tomorrow? For one more day, please let it be like this, here, just us.”

Steve and Bucky exchange a glance over your head, a silent conversation passing between them in an instant. After a moment, they both nod.

"Of course, Omega," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We can have one more day here, just us."

Bucky's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. "We'll make the most of it," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. One more day of peace, of being together, before facing the challenges ahead. You snuggle deeper into their embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of their bodies.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, Steve’s hand moves from your hip up your side, and you get lost in them again.

go to the double epilogue: THE DAWN HAS COME

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Ah! I'm just! Final chapter finally getting to share it with you all! It's been such a long journey! Thank you for those who have been waiting patiently. I hope you're feeling all the things!

[drexee]

And finally, Mikey!!!

Bayverse!Mikey x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, spelling maybe?

Raph | Leo | Donnie

Mikey Sleep HCs

Michelangelo used to have a twin bed, actually! It really didn’t bother him! He would just face plant into the mattress and knock out

fun fact: that was the same bed he’d had since he was little! Yes, the bunk.

But it wasn’t until you came along that he thought maaaaaybe he should get a bigger bed😭

He’s rolled off the side one too many times when you slept in the same bed together 🥲

Now he has a queen sized bed! Very plush, you sink right in

He has a comfortable and large blanket, it’s tattered at the edges but, “It’s well loved! It adds character ;)”

Mikey has a LOT of pillows on his bed. And one (1) body pillow he did not nab from Donnie’s room

Also has clothes on his bed, clothes he’s been meaning to fold and put away, but he just… never got around to it

Honestly, when you first walked in, you didn’t even know he had a bed

But it’s there, trust

He’ll knock some off and boom! A bed!

He. Snores. LOUD.

like, hONK shooo HOONNK mimimimi 😪

If it weren’t for those thick cement walls, you’d be able to hear him clear across the lair!

But it mellows out the deeper he goes into sleep

Now, about the sleeping positions

He has no favorite!

if you’re in bed with him, he’s happy 🥹

Sometimes Michelangelo will have you wrapped up in his arms, other times he’ll be laying on his back (propped with a few pillows) and have you up against his side

It depends on how he’s feeling that night

But you always wake up with at least one of his limbs draped over you

If it’s been a long day, he’ll lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beat

It gives him a chance to rest his eyes and his very busy brain for a bit, allowing himself to just focus on you and clear out everything else

Your fingers would draw lazy circles on the back of his head, and across his neck, over his carapace, down his shoulders and lightly scratch his jaw

Maybe even kiss his forehead too?

He’s Swooning, oh my god

He loves it

Mikey will be chirping and churring so much he’s practically vibrating

He’d also be drawing pictures with his hands over your skin, tracing your shape and committing it to his memory

He’d see the goosebumps that follow his fingers and he would go back and trace over them, slower

Mikey loves loves LOVES your voice, so he’ll ask you to talk to him while he’s cuddled up with you

Pillow talk is a big thing for him, from various topics to deep conversations to cracked out stories that have you both gasping and dying with laughter

And honestly the raw emotions that come out in the dead of night? When it’s just you and him bundled up together sharing every random thought that comes to mind until one of you drifts to sleep?

That’s what he lives for

It’s intimate in a way that nothing else could ever replicate

In the mornings, he will lay onto top of you

Like, he will CRUSH you. Lovingly. 😌

He wants to be close to you!! And soak up all your sunshine!!!

and he’s not above peppering every inch of you with as many kisses as he can

You have to literally shove him off of you to get him to stop😭

Even then, Mikey will grab your arm (or whatever you used you get him away) and start kissing that

And once you’re properly awake, he’ll have you two head over to the kitchen to have some breakfast together

Voila!! That’s all four! Sorry these took a bit! I have like, a full time job and I’m in school, and honestly only get these ideas when I’m right about to fall asleep 😭

Anyways! Hope you enjoyed! Til next time!

[parrythisucasual]

Jax x Reader who rants about their special interests?

Jax x Reader (Who rants about special interest)(Established Relationship)

Hello and thank you for the submission! Again, I’m sorry for it taking so long to get to this, there’s quite a few of you and I’m very grateful for that!!!

Since you didn’t tell me what sort of special interest Reader has, I’m gonna go ahead and slip in a few of my own. Hope you don’t mind anon!!!

“...and that’s why it’s the coolest pet you could ever own!” You shake your drawing of a crow at Jax. He chuckled a bit, reaching up and flicking you in between your eyebrows, “You’re such a birdbrain, (Y/N).” You grin in response, 

“I’m serious, Jax!” you hum happily, despite the stinging on your brow, “crows are hyper-intelligent and super cool! Did you know they remember a face generations later? Even if they’ve never actually seen that person their entire lives, they can recognize them!

“And to make things even better, they have funerals for each other too! And they hold court! And they have accents for different regions!” You squeal, bouncing on your toes a bit, “I’ve always, always wanted one!”

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell,” He rubbed your hair, still grinning. You never ceased to make him smile. It was just the way you are, never out of things to talk about, adorable all the while. He plucked the drawing from your hands, inspecting it closer. You’d drawn quite a few crows on the paper, at least twelve.

“Mine now,” Jax turned and, cackling, dashed up the hall. “HEY!” you giggle, running after him, “give it back, Bunny Boy!” His legs were much longer than yours, and he kept ahead easily, “Now you’re really not getting it back, Birdy!”

You put on an extra burst of speed, giggling through your heavy breathing, “Jax!” He dipped into his room, closing and locking the door behind him. You stop at the door, a grin wide on your face, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“Come on, let me in!” you call through the door, knocking on it a bit. “What’s the password?” his voice playfully responds. You bend down and peek in the keyhole, but all you see is a very shadowy yellow, “You covered the keyhole, you’re such a cheat!” You stand upright again.

“I dunno, Birdy, peeking into people’s rooms is kinda creepy.” You knock again, “Jaaaax, let me in!” “Biiiirdy, what’s the password?” He matched your tone.

“Fine. I’m a birdbrain,” you hear the lock unlatch, and he swings the door open, “Correct!” and he reaches down and grabs you, hugging you close as he yanks you inside, spinning you in the air. You’re laughing, holding him around the neck, “Jax!!” 

“Aw, come on, I can’t do the thing you were talkin’ about yesterday? What was the characters… Fizz and Ozzie?” Your face flushed pink, realizing he really did listen to everything. You nod a bit, “Well… maybe we can,” you press your forehead against his, holding him tighter.

“So… you like it?” he pipes up after a long while. You lift your head, raising a brow, “Like what- oh my gosh!” He’d hung up every drawing you’d given him. His walls had at least thirty drawings, all of the things you’d told him about. You glanced around, stopping at the drawing hanging above his bed. Fizzeroli and Asmoedious. Your face split into a huge smile.

“Bunny…” you face him once more, “this is adorable!” You lean down and press your lips to his. Jax pulled you closer, leaning into the kiss. When you finally pull away, you giggle a bit, “So… are you gonna set me down yet?” “Nah,” he carries you to bed, flopping down on it, you on his chest, “I’d rather just hold on.”

You snuggle against his chest, feeling so loved you could barely contain it, “I love you, you doofus.” You close your eyes, relaxing. “Love you too, Birdbrain.”

[swarvey]

🎉🎉🎈🎊🎈🎊🎉🎊🎈🎊 CONGRATULATIONS!!!

Maybe a ask of your favorite characters celebrating? Like you finished the community center and had the big party but your bookie bear wants to celebrate with you at home?

Ya know keep the celebration going for everyone

get a room! | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you finally finish the community center and celebrate with everyone in town. harvey would rather take things back home. warnings -> none! wc -> 787

a/n: i actually love this prompt sm, thank you anon!!! ik you didn't specifically request nsfw but i'm lowkey inspired so y'all lmk if you want a part two with what harvey would do hehe

-

"y/n! i can't believe it, you actually did it!"

emily tackles you with a hug, squeezing you tightly before looking at you with a proud gleam in her eyes. leah stands behind her with a warm smile on her face, while haley takes off her earbuds and begins looking around the finished community center. it took you countless seasons and, quite literally, your own blood, sweat, and tears to do it, but you've finally completed all the bundles in the building.

everyone in pelican town has joined you in celebration at the restored building. penny walks with jas and vincent, pointing to the different bundles and explaining the work you put behind them; alex stands in front of the fireplace and poses while haley begrudgingly takes a photo of him; sam and abigail excitedly make their way from room to room, sebastian trailing behind them and admiring the refurbished spaces.

"i have to say, i am quite impressed, my friend!" elliott declares broadly, walking up to you with a grin. "this explains all the running around i always see you doing, correct?"

"that's right," you reply, laughing as your friend gives you a round of applause. "please, at least this means that stupid joja mart will finally shut down."

"it also means i am currently unemployed, prick," another voice grumbles. you smile sheepishly at shane as he joins the two of you, arms crossed and an amused look in his eye. "thanks for that."

"now is not the time to drag her down," emily scolds. "look at all the wonderful energy surrounding this place!"

"oh, enough with that energy bullshit. it looks nice, i'll give her that."

"nice?" elliott repeats, suddenly looking personally offended. "why, i believe that's the understatement of the past hundred centuries."

as he continues on with his theatrics with leah pulling on his sleeve to stop, you can't help but listen with a warm feeling in your chest. despite everyone's differences, they were all willing to come here to celebrate your success. you realize how attached you've become to the town and its people, grateful to have the luck of living in such a place.

you startle slightly when you feel elliott's arm tightly wrap around your shoulders, drawing you to his side.

"she is the pride of pelican town, shane," elliott continues dramatically, shaking your body for emphasis. "the work she has done for all of us will be recognized years from now!"

shane laughs — wholeheartedly laughs — and you immediately grin back. it's not every day you get to see the grumpy guy crack a smile. "it looks like the 'pride of our town' might be dying of embarrassment in your arm, pretty boy."

"i have to agree." a hand gently grabs yours, tugging you out of elliott's grasp. "i hope i'm not interrupting."

harvey smiles at you, his gaze filled with love and pride. out of everyone, he definitely understands the efforts you put in the most — especially after long nights spent in the mines, or early morning visits to the clinic after you exhausted yourself a little too much.

"you never cease to amaze me, my dear," he expresses warmly, and suddenly, the rest of the room seems to fade away. "you're incredible."

you rub the back of your neck, shaking your head. "lewis is the one who told me what to do, and those little junimos helped out a bunch—"

"now is not the time to be humble." he squeezes your hand. "you're one of a kind. i can only hope this means you won't be going to the mines as often." harvey frowns then, a look of protectiveness taking over him. "i typically prefer not having to bandage you up, you know."

you laugh, but before you can respond, a gruff voice sounds from beside the two of you.

"and i usually prefer not having to see you guys eye-fuck each other in front of the entire damn population," shane groans, leaving to look at another section of the center. "get a room!"

you and harvey look at each other with raised brows, and you notice the others slowly inching away.

"if i have to admit," he starts, slightly pulling you closer to him, "i would prefer having you all to myself, as selfish as it sounds." you can see a blush creeping up his neck at his statement, looking at the floor in embarrassment.

"what's stopping you, then?"

his eyes meet yours, reaffirming your words, and you nod.

then, you suddenly find yourself all but sprinting out the community center doors. your laugh fills the air as harvey drags you along with him, face beet red as he leads you back to the farm.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Interest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The smooth jazz fills the aisle of the bookstore, a cozy warmth blowing from the vents above as you unwrap your scarf and let it hang loose from your neck. You unbutton the top of your coat, fanning yourself as the nip of winter fades. You tuck your gloves away and hike up your bag, stepping close to see the titles on the spines. The fog's finally gone from your lenses.

You have that one, oh and you already know how to crochet potholders, no you're looking for a challenge. Something different. You need new techniques if you want to keep your Etsy shop alive. You're not struggling... yet.

You pull out a book on how to crochet replicas of different plants; like a cactus or a daisy. You could do little faces on them or do a rainbow of colours. Your mind runs crazy with all sorts of alterations. You open it and flip through the pages, hiding behind the cover as you turn and lean on the shelf.

"Cute," a voice draws the book down an inch and you look down the aisle at the man facing the opposite shelf. He taps the shelf beneath the 'Gardening' sign as he smiles at you, "you know, they got a whole bunch of books about real plants down here."

You bring your brows together and furrow your nose. Who is this strange man judging you? The gall. I mean, look at him. He's a bit too old to be commenting on your interests.

"Uh, thanks, but I don't like to get dirty," you say without thinking. You're not the type to be rude but something about his tone really irks you.

You shift back to face the shelf and close the book. You slide out the other with sweater patterns. Those take so long, you haven't added those to your catalogue. You put it back and adjust your glasses as you pause and tap the book in your hand. Oh, great idea and you don't even need a pattern. You could do book covers and little bookmarks!

"You knit?" The man startles you again as he approaches.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, "crochet, but I can knit too."

"Huh, my mom does too. Tried to teach me but I'm all thumbs. I'm better with plants," he says.

You shake your head and focus on the shelf. You don't get why this guy is bugging you. On first glance, he's got at least ten years on you, maybe more. And why the heck is he bringing up his mom? You don't know her.

"Look, I hope I didn't come off rude, I was just... curious. I've never seen anyone knit a cactus before," he puts his hand on the top shelf.

"Crochet," you correct him again, keeping your chin set ahead of you.

"Yeah, crochet," he chuckles, "sorry, I'm a bit ignorant.”

You bite your tongue. You've heard of older men being a bit much but have lucked out in not being bothered by them. Until that moment.

“Cole,” he offers as he pulls his hand off the shelf, holding it out.

You don't even look. You're too nervous and honestly, annoyed. You want him to go away.

You count your losses. You don't need to splurge on a pile of books. One is fine, you can see if there's anything new on Pinterest.

You turn on your heel and head down the aisle, away from him. You hear him huff as you turn down the next, tempted to stop and look at the Tarot but wanting to get far away. You could probably hide out in the non-fiction section until he evacuates.

As you get to the end of that aisle, you find the book crushed against your front. You bounce off another person and stumble back. You look up at the stranger, Cole. He puts his hands up defenseless and grins.

“Oops, sorry, we keep running into each other.”

“Uh, alright,” you try to sidestep him but he does the same. You both move in the same pattern, back and forth, getting in each other's way, “okay, okay, just stay still.”

He stops and stares with wide eyes. You slowly sidle by, watching him to make sure he doesn't try anything. This is getting too weird for your liking.

You twirl and swiftly march away, hugging the book tight as you try not to trip in your hurry. You're too exposed at the checkout line so you surpass it and flee towards the comic book section. If that doesn't work, the bathrooms are right behind that.

You finally look back again as you get to the graphic novels. You can only see shelves. You're alone in the aisle, grumbling to yourself in agitation. “Creep.”

You take your time wandering, thinking maybe you might be able to get into Batman as you admire the art on each cover. Your adrenaline cools and you feel a bit less addled.

You sneak around the perimeter of the store and find your way back to the craft section. He's gone. Hopefully he went back home to his sad plants.

It's difficult to shake your unease. You pick out some of the needles they have hung with other small accessories and head to the till.

You join the line, your mind already trying to decide what you want to order at the cafe. As you step up, just about to get your turn at the counter, you feel a nudge, a silty voice rolling into you.

“Uh, excuse me,” the timbre is all too familiar.

“Really, dude,” you snap around, “take a hint.”

“You dropped your gloves.”

He holds up your wadded gloves and you cringe. You force a smile and snatch them away. “Thanks,” you grit out.

“Yeah, just being a nice guy,” he shrugs, “trust me, I got the hint.”

He steps back on his heel and turns his attention to the table of pens and other stationary that separate the tills from the rest of the store. You sniff and roll your eyes, quickly flitting up to checkout. The sooner you're gone, the better.

[sapphirestones09]

AAAAAAA FINALLY! I'm done playing @oneknightstand-if. As part of the celebration, here is Rosie's colored sketch (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Lol, this looks like an anime title card And thus! The Stats!

Blobbed: Yep (We are what now?)

Bold : 205 (Is this high lol?) Sweet : 46 Sassy : 159 Optimist : 76

Health : 85 Mark Status : Healed Merlin Healing : 2 Merlin Forced Healing : 0

Caution : 9 Will : 7 Cloudcuckoolanderness : 42 (Not enough, we gotta go full cray cray) Silent : 7 Curse Level : 4 Fear Level : 6 Corruption : -5 (Is this low enough?) Mute : false Mindcontrol : false

Downtime : Had Breakfast | Snarfed Sweets | Shower Accident |

Route : Went into Store & Fought | (What I gotta use the hunting knives as soon as possible in some way right?)

New Inventory : Hairdryer | Sweets | Shower Mat | Everclear Alcohol (Molotov! Molotov! Molotov!) They Know : false | It Sees : Masked | You Replied False Some stats are missing when I scroll from the past posts in the forum. Such as Crazy Theory, Crazy Theory Level, Pottymouth, Serenades, Interpretative Dance, and a deep dive into the Adrian and Merlin's relationship stats (I WANT TO SEE HOW MANY TIMES I FLIRTED GODAMMIT!). I wonder if I can access it (╥ω╥) About Rosie!

You are currently known as Rosaline (Rosie) Bane a seemingly normal female wildlife biologist. You have red eyes, very long flowing icy blond hair, and a short and petite figure clad in a red cape with an amaranth face mask. People tend to take particular notice of your hair. At first glance, people tend to find you not very intimidating.

You excel at sword fighting, gardening, and having a magnetic personality. Meanwhile, you've got a weakness for prescription medications and enclosed spaces, as well as having anger management issues.

You have an ear piercing. You also have a couple of scars along your neck and wrist.

A tragic accident that claimed your whole family lies in your past and the fate of your future remains murky with the apocalypse ever looming in the background. At least no one has suspected that you are actually a serial killer.

Your final words were "And now for a final word from our sponsor—"

Note! I didnt know I could play something as chaotic and as fun as this game provided me. Its super fun and enjoyable and yet amidst the chaos I loved the characters that was shown and grown to get attached to them to a degree. Both Merlin and Adrian are mysterious and enigmatic in their own ways that makes me look forward to the story and how it progresses towards their character. Also seeing Adrian being exasperated over Cloudcuckolander MC's antics tickles my funny bones more than I can admit. I admit I was reluctant to get into the game seeing as its such a huge one, but after playing all I can say is MOAR! I NEED MOAARRRR! AND PLEASE AUTHOR TELL ME HOW TO SUCCESSFULLY PASS THE STAT CHECK FOR MOONWALKING ON THE FENCING ROUTE! I NEED TO MOONWALK! I NEED THESE PEOPLE TO CLAP FOR ME! And please can we apologize to Adrian for punching him? (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ I know in the grand scheme of things, Adrian forgives us already but we still wanna apologize (ಡ‸ಡ) And oh boy, I think Im gonna draw lots and lots of fanarts now... Skill Stats!

Personality Stats!

Can we still claim to be a newbie after Merlin's extensive lore dump on us? Relationship Stats!

Inventory!

Your ultimate weapon is unknown.

You are currently armed with... nothing, at least as far as you know.

Cold Steel SRK survival knife

You also have on hand...

E-phone 7XL

several small bottles of prescription medications

photo of your family

Killer McKiller Face's favorite stuffed animal (Rip our micro pig (ಥ﹏ಥ))

well-worn Bible (To ward off evil of course!)

mystical Magic 8-Ball (Another holy item! I sure hope it does not contain anything otherworldly that will potentially endanger us and others ha.ha.ha (→_→)

small herb garden of eclectic plants including a mutant Venus Flytrap (The only queen Rosie will ever potentially bow to!)

collection of various survival & hunting knives

small bag of iridescent pearls

bottle of 95% alcohol Everclear (Molotov! Molotov! Molotov ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝)

slightly squished pastry (I KNOW MY PRIORITIES! AND ITS SWEETS!)

[jensensfanfic]

CLAY ASKING YOU TO SPRING FLING ☆ DRABBLE

pairing: clay jensen x gn!reader

a/n: i was about to go to sleep and then i got this random thought in my head. it's messy and short as hell, but i hope you like it nonetheless.

—☆—

thinking about clay jensen trying to come up with a way to ask you to spring fling.

he's had a few crushes during his school life but has never felt brave or confident enough to ever ask them out. you, however, were different. he couldn't watch you go to the dance with somebody else without at least trying to ask you. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go - not without trying.

weeks went by, and each day that passed was another chance for some other student to swoop in and ask you to be their date. he needed to just buck up and do it, but he was still full of nerves whenever he was around you- which was actually quite often.

you sat next to each other in robotics almost every day. he had so many chances.

one day, while in class together, clay scribbles both of your names on top of your project plan, then doodles two little characters that you recognise from the akr comics you both read.

when you mention this, that you know these robots, clay only allows himself a mere few seconds of shock, before diving into a babbling ramble about the comics.

by the end of the conversation, clay finally gets an idea of how to ask you to spring fling. it's simple, probably a little nerdy or lame, but he does it anyway.

he spends all night– and all morning before school– sketching a small comic strip. he draws himself, and you, as akr characters, and in the very first square, inside the speech bubble, he writes, "will you go to spring fling with me?"

underneath, there are two different outcomes. in one, your character says a polite 'no', to which clay responds calmly and respectfully, the drawing of him looking sad, but understanding.

in the other outcome, the second square, your character responds with a 'yes, i'd love too'. and in this drawing, a thought bubble encases a small drawing of your characters dancing together at spring fling with tiny hearts decorating the scene.

clay can't believe it when he actually hands you this drawing in person, and he believes it even less when the second square becomes a reality.

he is utterly flabbergasted, but also, so so happy when you fling your arms around his neck and whisper a promise– to frame the picture and keep it forever– into his ear.

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[elliewiltarwyn]

A Specialized Problem (OC Swap Gift for @mythandral)

for the FFXIV OC Swap discord's current swap, my giftee is the incomparable @mythandral! Coming in a little under the wire here cause the deadline is on Sunday ghasldkfjkasd BUT I'm really glad I finally sat myself down and devoted the energy to exploring Myth's whole deal because it's all so cool and fascinating and he's a wonderful character, and I hope this gift lives up to those standards!!

I present a 2,321-word fluffy MythXStephanivien fic illustrated with gposes from Steph's POV centered around Myth. I offered either gposes or fic writing, and then hubristically decided I could do both. >.> also there was technically a theme for the swap but thankfully they were optional because I completely forgot sdghalshgf however I suppose you could say this is adjacent to the Valentione's/Love option?? it is goddamn cotton-candy levels of fluff at least lol

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO hope you all and Myth in particular enjoy!!

It was well after the end of the workday, with the gray Coerthan clouds beginning to tint orange and the sun beginning to aim its reach through the still-open doors of the manufactory, and Myth had yet to move an ilm from his spot.

This in and of itself wasn’t terribly surprising; Stephanivien was used to his husband’s tendency to focus on his projects to the exclusion of most else. It was a method of increasing his productivity and a process of healing both for him, allowing him to turn his anxieties into progress on any number of little projects that had fallen by the wayside in the manufactory’s assembly line, but ones that would be of immense benefit to unfortunate folk from the slowly-ascending peasants of the Brume to the steadily-recovering citizens of Garlemald. Even if it were for no benefit but his own, Stephanivien would never begrudge him these times to himself; Fury knows he could use some of those moments, butting heads with his lord father and Tedalgrinche and other such doubters all day as he does. Albeit less so these days.

No, Stephanivien’s concern was more prosaic: typically, Myth’s personal space in these times was active and bright, delighting in the sounds of his tools tinkering with his project, examining it from every angle and frequently ducking his head and craning his neck into unusual positions to do so, not to mention how he would gladly explicate upon his process to any who asked, especially if they were new hires of the manufactory who were like to stand there in awe of the Warrior of Light more than actually listen to a word he was saying. Quite frankly, Myth was a delight when he was in these moods.

Today, it had been anything but: Mythandral Raas, beloved senior engineer of Skysteel Manufactory, husband of its proprietor, and Warrior of Light, had spent near the full afternoon gazing blankly at the device in pieces before him on the table — his own aetherometer. His elbows had rested on the table for what seemed to be several bells, his hands clasped across the bridge of his nose as his burnished golden eyes, the color of the sun hiding behind the overcast sky, traced the span of gears, nuts, bolts and wires sprawled across his workspace. Most disturbingly, he had paid no heed to any who tried to draw his attention — not that anyone pressed particularly far, fearful as they were of disturbing such a notable figure of renown, no matter how open-minded and approachable Myth presented himself.

‘Twas quite strange for Myth, but Stephanivien had some ideas percolating in his overactive mind — both as to the cause and as to possible solutions.

And so as the day wound down and countless employees and guild trainees trickled out the door, each bidding both proprietor and Warrior of Light good night, Stephanivien pretended to busy himself with a pile of messy letters that a Haillenarte manservant had delivered earlier that day, flipping and reading through the same three or four until activity in the manufactory died down, until all that could be heard was the sound of steam rushing through pipes and small hisses of exhaust — the murmurs, chatter, and laughter of his employees finally absent. Even now, Myth continued to regard his aetherometer sternly, attempting to solve a puzzle that, Stephanivien admitted, could stump even himself.

Once he had judged it to be likely they truly were the last in the manufactory, Stephanivien raised his voice slightly to note, “Stare any harder, my dear, and you’re like to burn a hole straight through the thing.”

Finally, for the first time in several hours, Myth’s head rose from its downturned angle. Smirking to himself, Stephanivien balled up the letters in his hand, tossed them over his shoulder into the wastebasket, and slipped out from behind the desk to make for his partner’s side. As his boots clacked across the wooden floor, Myth’s head slowly craned around to gaze up at him over his shoulder, blinking fairly irregularly and furrowing his brow as if he had just awoken from deep slumber. “Of course, if doing so would solve your seemingly impenetrable dilemma, then I wholeheartedly encourage it by all means.” Stephanivien winked. “As I always encourage exploring such unorthodox methods.”

“Unfortunately, this is a matter that requires a delicate approach,” Myth demurred as the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly. “I won’t deny I’ve been quite tempted to incinerate the blasted thing a number of times, though.”

“’Twould certainly eradicate the problem in one sense.” Now by his side, Stephanivien reached over and laid a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder while extending the other around in front; Myth took the hint and reached up to clasp it, each machinist curling their fingers around each other’s thick padded gloves. “Shall I take a look? Fresh perspectives oft bear unforeseen solutions, as you well know.”

Myth sighed. “You’re welcome to, I suppose, but I fear this is a particularly specialized problem. It involves…well.” He chuckled, sat up a little, and wryly rapped his knuckles against his own chest; Stephanivien knew very well the “problem” laying beneath Myth’s perfectly-tailored, shockingly-clean-for-a-Skysteel-engineer shirt. “My stint with the Light is largely resolved, but I am still particularly susceptible to fluctuations in my aether, particularly when I’m doing something aether-intensive; when I accrue a surfeit, the probability that the aetherometer will jam rises — the lightning-aspected aether it is supposed to draw becomes imbalanced toward the umbral.” With his free hand, he reached for a small wrench that laid on the table next to the meter, flipped it into his fingers with all the dexterity of a Lominsan rogue with their knives, and drummed it along the length of an internal piece of the meter’s machinery. “I am trying to figure out how to filter Light aether and restore the lightning’s astral balance, in essence.”

Stephanivien frowned. “That is quite the conundrum — after all, if it were possible before…”

“…I would likely have had a much easier time in the First, yes,” Myth mused with a grim chuckle.

“That aether fluctuations could cause errors with the extraction is a possibility I ought to have considered. It pains me to know my oversight has been causing you grief.”

“Come now, there’s no way you could have possibly known ‘twould be an issue when you invented this,” Myth immediately interjected, shaking his head up at his husband with a mischievous grin. “Frankly, had you, it would have raised serious questions about your choice of occupation. You could make a killing with that sort of precognition.”

Stephanivien submitted to a chuckle himself as he squeezed his husband’s hand and shoulder both. “You say that, and yet I am not unaware of the skeptical glares everyone still gives my prospectometer.” Myth stifled a laugh with his other hand, a sound Stephanivien had not heard all day and had sorely missed. “At any rate, mayhap we should step away from the problem for a time? Even your genius mind cannot carry on forever without rest and recuperation.” That being said, Stephanivien’s insides churned, as he knew quite well why Myth had been focusing so intently on solving this particular puzzle. From the tales he had heard, from what he had seen cross his husband’s torso, the Light had done quite a number on him, to put it far too lightly…

Thankfully, Myth’s response to the proposition was to sigh, lean his head against Stephanivien’s hand, and murmur, “Perhaps you have a point.” He groaned and stretched his other arm and both legs outward, rotating his wrist and feet as he stretched his neck to one side, then the other. There was a grimace on his face when he muttered, “I definitely should not have sat here all day. Have you aught in mind for an alternate activity?”

“‘Activity’ should not be a factor in the equation, my dear…” Stephanivien trailed off as his gaze tracked towards the chronometer sitting on the manufactory’s front desk. The specific time that it was currently displaying suddenly ignited the spark of an idea in his mind, and he grinned. “Though I do believe I’ve thought of something. Here — follow me.”

Myth’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he allowed Stephanivien to pull him to his feet and start to make for the stairs hand-in-hand. Stephanivien’s heart beat faster and faster in his breast as they climbed those stairs to the manufactory’s upper story, crossing the landing until they reached one of the doors on the far side with a ‘No Entry’ placard hanging off the handles; Stephanivien carelessly yanked it off and pulled Myth through, crossing into a poorly-lit corridor.

“Hm.” Even in the darkness, Stephanivien was well aware of the arched eyebrow upon his husband’s face. “I can’t say I’ve ever been down this way.”

“You did not think the ‘No Entry’ was a physical barrier, surely?”

“You never know.”

Stephanivien laughed gaily as they began to climb another set of stairs. After all his worrying, all Myth’s trials, he could not well describe the extent to which he was walking on clouds hearing his partner’s sense of humor return to prominence.

There wasn’t much further banter as the two ascended the stairs to an extent much further than Stephanivien was sure Myth expected, distracted as they were with the effort and the numbered floors counting off in Stephanivien’s mind. Once they reached the fifth landing, he diverted off the steps onto it and led Myth down another few dark corridors, eventually reaching one sitting unremarkedly at the far end.

“You may want to cover your eyes for a moment,” Stephanivien warned with a cheeky grin; Myth looked confused still, but obliged, lowering his goggles and shading them with his hand. Holding his breath in anticipation, Stephanivien yanked the door open and pulled Myth through.

The moment the sun fell across Myth’s face, it rose in shock, his lips slightly parted as it literally dawned on him what was happening. “Wait, but…”

Stephanivien couldn’t help a satisfied smirk as he gently coaxed his partner forward, stepping onto a surprisingly wide stone landing and making for its edge. “Ishgard has a reputation for dreariness that is not wholly unearned,” he said matter-of-factly, “but there are certain places that are adept at reminding me ‘twas not always a cold and biting clime.”

“Right here at the manufactory?” Myth replied in awe; having apparently gotten used to it now, he pushes his goggles back up onto his forehead and lowers his hand, his golden eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in the vista before them.

“‘Tis not particularly known, and I am ill-inclined to reveal it to most. But of course, I will make certain exceptions.” Stephanivien beams at Myth as they reach the edge and draw to a standstill, relishing the way the widening of his partner’s eyes gave him premium access to the view of their golden pupils, now soaking in not just the scenic view of the ridges of Abalathia’s Spine but the way the sun perfectly sat at the apex of one of the gaps between the Pillars for which the district was so named.

A hesitance struck Stephanivien at that moment, the potential pitfalls of his devious plan now catching up with his overactive mind. After all, if Light was the source of such woe for him… But he remained resolute as he gestured at the vista, lingering in particular on the rays of the sun, so strong with such defined shapes that he swore he could reach out and pluck them from the frigid air. “The sun travels over Coerthas as normal, of course — but it never nestles into what I would declare its proper spot aside from this particular time of day, in this particular season.”

He exhaled a visible puff of air and put his hand on his hip, the other now tightly beginning to curl into Myth’s. “From this spot,” he began quietly, “I can remember easier that we are not so isolated here in Ishgard — that the warm touch of the sun can reach even us.” His gaze flicked up to Myth’s eyes again, meeting them as Myth turned to stare at him. “Both that we need not suffer our trials alone… and that ‘tis still possible to partake of that which is comforting about the light.”

Myth’s other hand, on apparent instinct, rose up and placed itself directly upon his chest, over the precise centerpoint where Stephanivien knew the scars laid. “Steph,” he breathed, “you…”

Stephanivien chewed his lip anxiously, the nerves beginning to rise to a fever pitch as he suddenly found himself unable to read his husband’s expression. “I apologize profusely if I’ve given any offense,” he murmurs, averting his gaze, “I merely thought—”

A leather glove wraps around his hip and pulls him in to share a deep kiss with Myth, one which he enthusiastically reciprocates, reaching up to cup his partner’s cheek and move in for a more comfortable position, a warm position, here in the arms of Mythandral Raas.

“You are,” Myth breathed between kisses, “as always, a genius, and have the answer to everything.” They pulled apart slightly, just enough to rest their foreheads against each other; Stephanivien stifled a chuckle as their goggles clacked awkwardly against each other. “Thank you, my love.”

Stephanivien grinned. “I’m overjoyed to have helped.” They kissed again, and Stephanivien began to tangle his fingers in the lengths of Myth’s luxurious hair. “If you like,” he whispered somewhat mischievously, “I can steal down briefly for some of the ale stores? I’ve found it goes quite well with the view.”

“Oh, on any other day, I would gladly,” Myth replied, pulling back and grinning at his husband. “But tonight, I think I would keep my mind clear. I’ve just had a flash of inspiration about my problem, after all.”

[certkidwhocantdomath]

Guys, it's time to come clean.. My headcanons have never been in full. Yeah, in my true headcanons Johnny was blinded instead of Kenshi(bc Johnny getting blinded instead is underrated) but I kept it out because I thought you guys wouldn't like it. Also, Johnny has his powers but instead of green it's red(bc Johnny with red powers is canon but very underrated). But I finally decided to come clean and put my headcanons in full.

Btw, I just face revealed in my banner! Guess which I am!

Coldstar Headcanons, Part VII: The Truth

(That actually sounds like a badass title😆)

• Johnny is a descendant of Scandinavia and Greece and the sole surviving member the Karlatun Clan. (Canon doesn't have anything about the quote unquote "Mediterranean clan" Johnny descended from so I created a name myself)

• Johnny spoils Bi-Han. He loves to give him gifts, at least once a day. Such is the life of a celebrity. It can be anything, really. He also loves physical touch. I mean, he is a blind man. Johnny specifically loves it when Bi-Han guides him, with his hand on his shoulder or bicep. It makes him feel very present, especially with the complete loss of his sight. And that's something he cherishes.

• It's only when one of them is badly wounded, that Bi-Han says "I love you" to Johnny- when they are healed, Johnny beams from that point on. One of these moments was when Johnny was blinded by Mileena and stabbed by Shao(that's a story for another day I'm afraid).

• Ever since Johnny came to Outworld, he has been having prophetic dreams of Raiden wielding lightning, Kenshi blindfolded and levitating Sento ahead of him, Liu Kang and his cold hands, Bi-Han and a demonic shadow-like figure constantly looming over him, himself and burning hot fire. 

• Bi-Han is protective of Johnny but he's even more so in an unfamiliar place. After the Mileena incident, he will not let Johnny out of his sight and glares at anyone who tries to talk to him.

• Rather than Kenshi, Johnny is the one blinded by Mileena. It's because of Johnny's prophetic dreams that he decided to pull Mileena away from Kenshi, allowing himself to be blinded.

• After getting blinded, Johnny gained a unique "radar sense" that allows him to perceive the proximity and arrangement of objects around him. He cannot, however, discern pictures or video images, and he can only guess at colors based on the amount of heat they are absorbing or reflecting. (Johnny is basically MK's Daredevil)

• Rose(Johnny's mom) was the very woman who taught Johnny how to do that.

• After getting blinded, Johnny matured considerably, losing much of his earlier arrogance and shortsightedness. In the process, he becomes an overall well rounded and serious character, although his penchant for humor remains mostly intact.

• After gaining his powers, Johnny was sent to Seido for several months(this was before Bi-Han was courting Johnny, he started courting him the day he returned)much to the displeasure and anger of Bi-Han and Kenshi.

• Sometimes, Johnny's fellow kombatants forget Johnny is blind- leading to some funny moments similar to A:TLA when the Gaang forgets Toph is blind(perks of being a multifandom😎)

----MK CAST FORGETTING JOHNNY IS BLIND----

*out on a mission*

"There it is!" They heard Johnny exclaim from his cooling seat; aka Bi-Han's lap.

Kung Lao, Syzoth and Tomas perk up

Kung Lao looks around and sees nothing, he sends Johnny an unamused look

"That's what it'll sound like when one of you spots it." Johnny said with a smile and he waves a hand over his blindfold and gets comfy once more in Bi-Han's lap.

- -

*out on a mission in a desert*

Johnny accidentally knocks himself into Kung Lao

"Ow! Can't you watch where your-" Kung Lao stops himself the moment he realized who he was talking to,

"No." Was all Johnny said.

"Right, sorry." Kung Lao rubbed the back of his neck and looked behind Johnny to see Bi-Han giving a cold glare.

- -

*in the Lin Kuei mansion*

Kung Lao was drawing Syzoth, who was missing, with Johnny who was laying down and listening to soft music he was playing on his phone.

Raiden and Ashrah come in and Raiden happily says, "We found a printer to make our posters!"

Kung Lao replied with, "Hey, I thought making the missing Syzoth posters was my job. I've been working all day on my Syzoth!"

The Chakram wizard shows them a badly, but also cutely, done drawing of Syzoth.

"It's not bad," Kung Lao beams, "but also not good." Kung Lao deflates.

"C'mon, Ashrah your being too harsh!" Johnny began, "it looks just like him to me!"

"Thank you! I worked very-" than Kung Lao remembered who said that, "why do you have to do this?"

And can I just say, damn! I look cute in my banner!

[the-brucest-fan]

I See Red

This is an idea that's been in my head for the last month about a hypothetical scenario for a future Super Mario Bros. Movie sequel, but Illumination doesn't have the cojones to do it, so I wanted to do it myself. Actually, I wanted to draw this as a mini comic, but while writing the script, it turned into this, so here it is.

P.S.: Sorry about the grammar and spelling mistakes. English isn't my first language.

Bowser had won, everything was lost. The Toads had lost hope, Peach had lost her kingdom. And Mario? He had lost his brother. Now he's going to do whatever it takes to make Bowser pay, even if it costs him his life.

Content Warning for Major Character's Death

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Mario's glassy eyes stared horrified at the devastated Mushroom Kingdom, or at least, what remained of it: the red sky above the burning houses, fire consuming everything in its path, panicking Toads fleeing and crying while their town burned to ashes; dark smoke covering the palace, towers engulfed in flames, the once white bricks slowly turning black.

They had lost.

He had lost.

No. Not yet. 

He knew he had to do something, but he couldn't leave… 

The red-clad plumber turned his gaze to the still form of his little brother, lying limp on his arms, green cap lost, chest unmoving; cuts and bruises covering his pale face, which despite that, remained with a peaceful expression, as if he were just sleeping. 

Mario wrapped Luigi's body tightly between his arms, burying his face in the croak of his little brother's neck; eyes closed tightly to hold back tears, gritting his teeth to hold back a sob. He didn't want to leave him, he couldn't.

With a trembling lip, he looked at Luigi's lifeless face. The hot breeze brushed through both of their hair, also taking away the single tear that managed to escape the red-clad plumber's eye. Luigi didn't even flinch. 

Mario held Luigi's limp hand while supporting the latter's head with the other one. He promised to him they were going to stick together, that he would never let go of his hand again like that time both were sucked in by the warp pipe. He promised he would keep him safe, he never thought this time it would be the other way around. If only he had listened…

It's my fault.

He had been reckless and impulsive. He was so focused on getting rid of the problem quickly, that he didn't stop to think about the consequences. Now innocents had paid the price, including his beloved brother.

It all happened so fast. He didn't even hear that Bullet Bill coming his way, and then he saw Luigi, also coming his way…

Mario tightened his grip on Luigi's hand, refusing to let go of him, but deep down he knew he couldn't stay. He had to avenge his brother and the kingdom, he had to fix his mistake, but he didn't want to leave his brother. He promised to keep him safe… He had already broken that promise, and now with all the pain of his soul, he was about to break another. 

I'm sorry.

Mario tenderly pressed his forehead against Luigi's, feeling cold instead of warmth. This was his apology for what he did and for what he was about to do. Taking one last look at his brother's still form, he said his final goodbye…

And let go of his hand. 

"Please, take care of him," Mario asked Princess Peach, who had come in next to him. 

Now on her knees, the princess took the green-clad plumber's body into her arms, his head now resting on her lap. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and then turned back to Mario with a concerned look.

"Mario, where are you going?" She asked, even though she already knew what Mario was up to, but a part of her wished she was wrong,  "What are you going to do?"

Mario took his singed cap from the ground and straightened it on his head with determination.

"I'm putting an end to this," he replied. There was no light in his eyes anymore, there was nothing inside him but grief and rage; there was nothing else in his mind but revenge; the pieces of his broken heart were beating erratically, pushing him to do whatever it takes to finish Bowser once and for all. He was going to make him pay for what he did to Luigi.

Without anyone being able to stop him, he took a Super Feather, yellow cape puffing out of nowhere around his neck, and took off.  

"Mario!" Peach called out, but it was already too late. Mario was gone. She couldn't let another one of her friends get killed. The young monarch turned to Toad and Yoshi, gently placing Luigi's body on the little mushroom man's lap, "Please, take him to the safehouse at the Mushroom Forest and watch over him. I need to retrieve something from the castle that could help him." 

"It is dangerous to go in there right now," Toad replied. He knew what the princess wanted, but if the item was still there inside the palace, it would be too risky for her, especially with the place still being on fire, "I'm coming with you."

"Thank you, but I need you to take care of Luigi while I'm gone," she resolved, "You're one of the only few I trust enough to take care of something this important, and Mario trusts you as well."

After processing the princess' words, Toad nodded and gave her a determined look. 

Yoshi also exclaimed something in his language to assure Peach that she could count on him as well. She tenderly caressed the creature's muzzle. 

"Don't worry little guy," Donkey Kong said, stepping in, "I'll go with her." 

Thanking his offer with a nod, the princess took out the last Fire Flower she had with her, the plant quickly turning the pink of her gown into white and red.

"Stay safe you all," she said, "We'll be back very soon."

And with that, she and DK left at full speed. Despite her determination and courage, Peach was afraid. She not only feared for her kingdom's fate, but also for Mario's life, for what he was about to do. She knew he wasn't thinking straight, he was blinded by grief and rage, and she knew what people were capable of while being like that. That's why she was going to fix this, she was going to bring back the person Mario loved the most in this and any other world. Mario needed Luigi. There cannot be a Ying without its Yang, there has to be a balance.

And Peach was going to restore it.

She wouldn't let Luigi's sacrifice be in vain. The green-clad plumber had saved her and the kingdom several times along with his brother. She was going to repay them. 

Peach was so immersed in her thoughts that she didn't realize that they were already at the steaming gates of the castle. It was time, the moment of truth. She prayed the special Power-Up was still in the castle, it was the only thing that could save Luigi now, and therefore, save Mario as well.

"Hang on guys," she said. 

And then, she and DK disappeared behind the thick wall of smoke. 

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

I'll probably make a part two of this (I already have a draft), and eventually I'll make art of this as I originally had planned.

I'll also be posting this on AO3 if you want to check it out 😉

Thank you for reading!

[skzcoffeemachine]

Darling..

--------------------------------------------------------------

a/n : moonbin (may his soul rest in peace) was actually one of my earliest bias. And this is not me romanticising the whole unfortunate accident. I just wish to be there for Chan, parasocially, delusionally, whatever works.

------------------------------------------------------------

“it's believed that the young idol passed out and his phone was on the floor, broken..”

You turned off the YouTube video you clicked on, expecting some truth to come out behind the passing, but ofc it was the internet with speculations abound.

Astro was the first group that got you into kpop, and the demise had affected you but not as much as it had affected your boyfriend.

“hey.. ”

He sounds weak.

“Hey.. ”, you smiled softly but his head was hung too low to notice. You knew what was affecting him. But cannot even start to imagine what must be going through his head. Just the thought makes your eyes well up.

I wish your pain was mine.

You watched as he trudged over to his desk, sitting down, laptop opened, trying to drown himself into his work.

You realise the least you could do was to help him eat. He has not ate properly in days, chugging down energy drinks, something out of character for Chan. But he needed energy to appear reliable in front of his kids. Earlier in the day, you had called Chan's mom to learn her curry recipe. It was ready, on the stove, piping hot.

It has also been days since he smiled in front of you. True, he force smiles when he's out and about. He did not have to pretend , in front of you. And you preferred it that way.

As much as you wanted to go up to him and kiss his worries away, you knew better . Instead, you went straight to the bathroom and started prepping a warm bath.

He recently bought bath bombs to try, but neither of you really knew the best way to enjoy it. So, you earlier asked Hyunjin about it. Time to apply it practically. You added some epsom salts, known to relieve stress. Then, dropped the bath bomb, which started fuzzing up into the colours of the galaxy. Next step was to dim the lights. You smiled to yourself. The mood lighting in the bathroom was a great idea on your part. Now it was the harder part. You silently draw up cue cards in your head to chain the perfect sentences , something that might help him.

“Chan.. ” his eyes looked up to you when you put your hands on his shoulders. “Come”.

He was probably too tired to retaliate or even say no. You gently tugged on his hoodie, signalling him to take it off. He stripped down, quite lazily, his eyes glued on the floor the whole time. You gulped down tears. How can you bear to see someone you love like this?

You guided him to the bathtub. He slid into the water until he was immersed upto his neck. You sat besides the tub, helping him place his head comfortably against the edge.

“baby, can I wash your hair? It will feel good”, you said in a whisper. He hummed in response. You stood up to bring out your shampoo from the cabinet. You remembered how he said your shampoo relaxes him whenever he was feeling less than ideal.

You were not the slightest bit alarmed or shocked by the sound of small sniffles that come from him as you detangle as gently as possible.

You silently and delicately wipe some tears from his eyes. 

“Darling.. ” you whispered, “it was not your fault”.

That was what he needed to hear. Enough for silent sniffles to evolve into hoarse sobs. Enough to finally break you too.

It was not the first time he had cried in front of you. Yet, it had never been like this. As far as you knew this man, you know his soul and how he takes the blame for everything bad that goes in his loved one's life. He had been working on it. It was getting better.

“I ..Should..Have been there”, he cried out in between sobs.

“y/n..what must be his family going through? His members? His sister?” he was shaking so much that you had to get into the water waist deep, with your clothes on, to hug him tight.

As his face buried in your chest, tears staining the sweater darker, he let it all out, everything he had been holding on inside himself. You hugged him tighter as he clung on the fabric in a failed attempt of control.

“Chan.. Chan.. Look at me.. Look..”

You held his reddened face in both hands.

“Breathe.. Baby”

He obeyed, although it was getting progressively difficult for him, from all the tears.

“Chan.. ”, you drew small circles on his cheek with your thumb, “you know..you have always been there, for us, for them, even for people you haven't meet yet. ”

For the first moment in what felt like forever, he held eye contact. His eyes was swollen, more than his morning kind of swollen, more than you have ever seen before.

“But what if one of you was going through the same thing.. And what if I failed to be there.. ” he spoke what was in his mind the whole time, mustering up courage.

To that, you smiled. “Well.. You have given us so much love and hope and strength . You have even saved millions with Channie's room. You just don't know it yet”.

And that was the truth.

His sigh was of relief to you. It hurts. He will hurt. But also it was extremely important for him to realise how loved he was, how he was helping millions out there.

The silence was disrupted by a growl. Your stomach. Perfect timing, dear tummy. He let out a small laugh. That was the sound of angels to you. “Let's have dinner, hmm? ”, you took the chance to ensure he has his proper meal in days. “How can I say no to that cute tummy? ", he quipped, rubbing your belly violently but teasingly,both of your giggles resounding through the bathroom walls.

---------------------------------------------------------------

A/n : is it peaceful there, moonbin? Rest well. Thank you for everything. 6

[muninnhuginn]

So, going to link a couple of things before I start with this.

Firstly, the new MV for the Vortex/Overthink/Tides medley which is going to form the basis of my observations.

Secondly, this post, which makes a strong argument that Link Click is deliberately drawing from other time travel media. In this case, the 2002 version of The Time Machine. Also, a fun fact not mentioned in the linked post, but that I recently discovered is that the name of the girlfriend the time traveller is constantly trying to save is *Emma*.

Now that I've linked these two, I just want to say that this rest of this post is me having fun and I would love for these to be deliberate references, but let's be real, a lot of time travel media understandably shares a lot of visual language. Hourglasses, butterflies, and clocks are all fairly recurrent themes.

Click the read more for a mix of potential references to other time travel media and screenshots of specific details of the new MV I found interesting:

Left: Link Click (note the photo reel design). Right: Doctor Who (specifically one of the intros for the Twelfth Doctor)

And to add to the photography aesthetic present throughout, the photo reel clock resolves itself into a camera lens:

Next, we have a main character centred within a clock. In both cases, the character casts multiple shadows that resemble clock hands.

Left: Link Click. Right: Steins;Gate

The shot where Qiao Ling is stood still amongst a moving crowd is neat for two reasons. First, the people she's surrounded by seem to be those related to the cases CXS/LG have taken on. You can see Emma just behind in the above screenshot. And the other thing is that the first time this sequence plays the moving characters are too blurry to easily make out. When the sequence reverses however, and the lyrics speak of "pausing" the scene actually freezes with all the characters clear for a tiny bit. (I didn't screenshot purely because it was a pain to get the exact moment but you can check this if you want)

Upper left: Link Click. Upper right: Higurashi Gou/Sotsu. Bottom: Steins;Gate 0.

Next up: fragments! This one is honestly a real stretch, but hey, there are at least two other time travel adjacent shows that use them as visuals in their openings. I would really like the use to be similar to in Higurashi (the example screenshot is from the anime sequel Gou/Sotsu but the sea of fragments is present in the og too). In Higurashi, each time "loop" is actually an alternate timeline (wherein events would differ slightly even without intervention) and so each fragment represents another timeline. For Steins;Gate, it's more a visual that exists purely in the opening sequence to play into the whole shattered clocks aesthetic.

Left: Link Click. Right: Steins;Gate.

This one is inspired by me watching the opening only to go "Okabe Rintaro????" when Qian Jin showed up. But also. We can clearly see some of Qian Jin's scars in this shot. There appears to be one on the back of his neck and two over his left shoulder. These have to be relevant and obviously his eye colour has me side-eyeing but I don't think we have all the pieces for this character yet. (Him being a former cop with a connection to both of our focus cop characters though makes me think)

And a final one with generic anime trope no 58382929:

Left: Link Click. Right: Steins;Gate

I know, I know. This is typical anime/donghua. But! It's deliberately a shot in Steins;Gate that returns again and again throughout the series. It's also very associated with the character of Mayuri so take that as you will.

Bonus whatever this is:

Multiple Cheng Xiaoshis in different states of doing badly. I wonder if the centremost one is the one Lu Guang appeared to be thinking of in episode 1? Possibly another "fragments" situation or if not then it may be various things Cheng Xiaoshi will go through in this season

Anyway, the Steins;Gate opening visually has a lot of similarities and of course a lot of it is natural overlap because they're both time travel series. And they both draw inspiration from The Time Machine (especially Steins;Gate's sequel, Steins;Gate 0). But I find it pretty neat how all these series from different times and places do have these recurring themes.

[folklorianhaze]

Recuperation

Pairing: Nesta x Cassian (Nessian)

Rating: T (13+)

Tags: One Shot, Sick Character, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Cassian takes care of Nesta

Word Count: 1347

Summary: Nesta has come down with a particularly nasty head cold.

Cassian, of course, decides to nurse her back to health.

Fluffy Nessian oneshot. Post-canon. I just adore these two and was in the mood to write them a little drabble!

Read it on AO3 here!

“Go away,” came a frail, rasping voice from beneath a veritable mountain of fluffy blankets and pillows. “I feel like Death incarnate.”

Cassian reached forward and dared to lift one of the blankets, greeted by a crown of burnished golden-brown hair — kept down today instead of swept up into one of his mate’s usual intricate, elegant updos. The rest of Nesta Archeron’s face was buried so thoroughly beneath the soft fabrics that she was nearly lost entirely to him. Cocooned and comfortable, as she should be, given how thoroughly her recent bout of illness seemed to have beaten her down. Indeed, perhaps it was an indicator of just how drained she truly was feeling that she didn’t swat his hand away or struggle at all to get her blankets back as he gently lifted them away from her face.

He pressed a hand flat against her forehead, and sighed with relief. “It feels like your fever might finally be breaking,” he said. “Is Death incarnate at least an improvement from how you were feeling a few hours ago?”

Nesta groaned, but shifted her head in something that might have been a nod. “I suppose it’s not worse,” she conceded, her voice rough from coughing.

Slowly, Cassian brushed her hair back from her sweat-dampened forehead. He stroked his fingers through the waves falling past the curve of her neck, his movements repetitive, soothing.

“Shit,” he breathed. “You still sound awful. ‘M so sorry, Nes.”

To his surprise, she gave him a breathy, disjointed chuckle.

“I wonder if you’ll still be saying such things when I get my voice back properly, Cassian,” she murmured. “You’ll regret being so sympathetic when I can bark orders at you all hours of the day again.”

“Actually,” he said, ducking down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “that’s the part I’m missing the most right now.”

She nestled herself farther down into her blankets, curling up into a fetal position as if making her body as small as possible would help reduce its pain. Cassian sank down onto the bed beside her, running his hand gently along the curve of her body. Alright, perhaps he was being a little fussy; but he’d be lying if he said that seeing her like this didn’t worry him a bit. His Nesta, so powerful and unstoppable, so determined to strike down her enemies where they stood . . . his stomach twisted at the sight of her so weary. He had to hope she was on the upper end of recovering from this nasty cold, and hoped more than anything his efforts to care for her had done something to make it better.

“What can I do to help?” he murmured, rubbing the curve where her neck met her shoulder in an effort to ease out any tension.

A flicker of a rueful smile touched the edges of Nesta’s mouth.

“You’re being quite the mother hen today,” she said. “I’m surprised you’re not telling me pain is weakness leaving the body or some other such nonsense.”

“Well, this is me speaking as your mate, not your trainer,” he said, smoothing a lock of her hair gently behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, made a soft noise in her throat that let him know she savored the affection. “Anyway, it’s best for you to let your body heal and rest up. Too much exercise right now would just make it worse.”

Nesta shuddered. “It’s difficult to get any rest at all when I just can’t get warm,” she groaned, pulling the blankets tighter around her body. A fitful series of coughs racked their way through her, and she added, “And my body feels so sore.”

“I know, love, I know,” he sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of her head once again. “I can draw you a hot bath, if you want. How does that sound?”

She mumbled something into the pillows that sounded like “the House can do it.”

“Alright,” he conceded, doing his best not to think too much on the House of Wind, and its unusual sentience and . . . friendship with Nesta. He supposed it wasn’t such a bad thing, having a home that cared for you and looked after you. “I should still help you to the bathing room, though. You look like you can barely stand.”

Nesta waved off his worries with an artless flap of her hand. “No, I can walk on my own. I’m not that decrepit yet, you bothersome male,” she said, though there was none of her usual bite behind the words. In fact, an amused affection gleamed in those blue-gray eyes, soft and almost reticent — a secret vulnerability, shared just with him.

She pushed some of the blankets aside, but kept one of the thinner quilts draped around her body like a cloak as she pulled herself up from bed. For a moment, she swayed on her feet, steadying herself with a hand on Cassian’s broad shoulder. His brow furrowed as he watched her in silence. When she met his concerned stare, he saw that a thin sheen of sweat lined her brow, a few wispy stray hairs sticking to her forehead. Determination lit her gaze, and with a lurch in his stomach he wondered if she still felt as if she had something to prove. As if she were fighting any sign of weakness tooth and nail, too scared to reveal herself as capable of being brought down by anything — even a cold.

“Nesta,” he breathed, the expression on his face softening. Not with pity — no, he knew she’d never forgive him if he were to look at her as if she were some fragile thing. Just love, and worry, and the instinct to hold her, support her, however he could. He reached out to stroke the line of her jaw, so proud and strong even in her most exhausted moments. “It’s alright.”

He saw the battle behind her eyes — the resolve in the set of her shoulders, the uncertainty of whether she should continue to force herself to stand tall or allow herself to be held. His warrior, fierce in everything she did. Even now, that look in his eyes reminded him of the painting that now hung in Feyre and Rhys’ river house — Nesta, holding the line, wind and snow whipping around her, at the Pass of Enalius.

Though people who didn’t know her, truly know her as he did, might have tried to say Nesta cared for nothing, Cassian understood the truth of it. The truth she would so rarely let anyone see: that she cared more than she could say, that in all things, she tried so hard. Constantly held herself up to standards she knew were nearly impossible to achieve, then berated herself when she couldn’t meet them.

But it was okay to relax, too — to let yourself feel supported by the people who love you in the times you need it. At that moment, Cassian realized how badly he wanted her to know that. Needed her to know that.

So he said again, “Nesta.” And this time, she didn’t hesitate as she let herself fold into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist and coming to rest against his back, with her fingers gently grazing his shoulder blades.

“I hate this,” she muttered against his chest. “I loathe feeling so weak.”

“You’re the strongest person I know, Nes,” he answered, giving her a tight, comforting squeeze. “Nothing could change that. Now, let’s get you that bath.”

And she’d been such a trooper today, been in such pain, that he didn’t argue one bit when she looked him in the eyes and responded with utter seriousness, “Yes. And two slices of chocolate cake. Possibly three.”

Cassian was true to his word. Later, when she’d at last gotten out of the tub (feeling marginally better now that her body and hair were both clean and fresh) they’d sat in bed and devoured not just those three pieces of chocolate cake, but the entire thing.

Courtesy of the House.

[eastofthemoon]

Title: True Horror

Rating:

Series: Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun

Characters: Nozaki, Chiyo, Waka and Hori

Summary: Nozaki needed to write a vampire story, but he could have never predicted the horror that came with it.

Archive of Our Own

--------------------

“What’s the least messy way to kill a vampire?”

Chiyo paused, blinked and glanced up from the page she was working on. “What?”

Nozaki leaned back in his chair. “Sorry, easiest method to deal with a vampire might be a better way to phrase it.”

It really doesn’t make it less confusing, Chiyo thought.

Waka tilted his head to the side. “Why are you asking about vampires?”

Hori sighed as he crossed his arms. “If this is for a story idea, won’t Ken just reject it?”

Nozaki lifted a finger. “Actually, he requested I use vampires as a prompt.”

“What?” everyone said in perfect unison.

Ken is usually so down to earth, Chiyo asked. Did he finally snap and thought it be easier to let Nozaki cut loose?!

“It’s for a special Halloween issue,” Nozaki continued. “Each of the manga artists got assigned a different type of monster to use as a prompt. Miyako got ‘werewolf’ for example.”

Chiyo frowned. “I’m scared to ask, but is she going to have to draw were-tankuis?”

Nozaki sighed. “I didn’t ask, but I’m the idea is on the table.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I got vampire, and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“What’s the problem, though?” Waka asked. “Don’t you kill vampires by stabbing them through the heart?”

Hori crossed his arms in thought. “Yeah, but that’s a bit more gory than what Nozaki tends to draw.”

“Exactly. I have never even drawn blood, so I don’t know how to handle this,” Nozaki replied. “I know they can be destroyed by sunlight, but that just feels a bit anti-climatic to me.”

Chiyo brought out her phone and searched. “Let’s see, there’s a lot of vampire lore...Oh!” She held up her phone. “Apparently, you can distract a vampire by throwing objects on the floor in front of them.”

“How is that suppose to stop a vampire?” Waka asked.

“Apparently a vampire will be forced to count them all.”

“So,” Nozaki muttered as he sketched out a drawing. “It would look like this right?”

One panel showed Suzaki throwing beans on the ground with Mamiko behind him.

“Mamiko, run! This will distract him!”

The next panel was a vampire. “No! My one weakness!”

The third panel had the vampire sitting on the ground while yelling “I MUST COUNT!”

The last panel had Suzaki and Mamiko running away while Mamiko cried how smart Suzaki was.

“That seems a bit goofy,” Hori said, quietly.

“Won’t people think it’s another Setsubon story if you use beans?” Chiyo commented.

“Maybe you could add something to it,” Waka stroked his chin, “like maybe the vampire is really clumsy and trips?”

“That could work,” Chiyo replied and clapped her hands. “Oh, and maybe it’s a vampire that doesn’t like to bite people. That way you wouldn’t have to worry drawing that either.”

“Okay, but then how would this vampire get blood to survive?” Hori asked.

“Maybe the main characters hold a blood drive just for him,” Nozaki muttered. “But that’s more of a story for a comedy than a horror story.”

Chiyo rubbed her neck. “To be fair, comedy is more your style than horror anyway.”

“Yeah, we all recall how the last horror story you tried to write went,” Waka added.

“Fair point,” Nozaki replied. “Although, I still think a haunted jam jar has potential.”

It really doesn’t, Chiyo thought and glanced to Hori. “What do you think?”

Hori appeared lost in thought. “Kashima would look great as a vampire.”

“Hori?”

He cleared his throat. “Right, sorry,” he said and turned to Nozaki. “I vote comedy. If the vampire turned out friendly then you wouldn’t have to worry about killing it.”

“Good point,” Nozaki said as he turned back in his seat. “Comedy it is. I just hope the readers like it.”

TWO MONTHS LATER...

When Chiyo walked in the apartment she was instantly concerned.

Nozaki looked haunted as he stared at the pages of the latest issue of monthly girls romance.

“Nozaki?” She asked. “Are you alright?”

He looked up and Chiyo saw how pale he was. “That vampire story was a mistake.”

Oh no! She walked up. “Don’t tell me readers didn’t like it!”

Did they send in hate mail? Was he being harassed about it online?!

Nozaki cringed. “No, worse.”

He flipped the issue for Chiyo to see. “The vampire is ranking higher than Suzaki in the character polls!”

“This vampire is too cute!” read one comment.

“He’s so pathetic I just want to help him!” commented another.

Chiyo blinked and looked up. “Really?”

“I’ve created my own horror story.”

“You and I have different definitions of horror.”

OMAKE

Hori held up the costume. “Kasima, how do you feel about dressing up as a vampire for our next play?”

Kashima gave a thumbs up. “You had me at ‘dressing up’.

[reidak-artcreature]

Coral & the Cook annual redraw

Redrawing the same piece every year since 2019 to see my progress.

2019

The sketch that started it all. It was a mindless doodle made in class back in november 2019. I'd just started drawing again, and it shows. Proportions and anatomy weren't a thing for me back then. And those eyes are going to haunt my dreams forever.

I did forget completely about this after drawing it. Just two nameless character concepts that would never be drawn again.

2020

2020 came and I discovered Mermay. Somehow I remembered the sketch and I decided to make a full color illustration with the concept.

I did improve a lot in those few months. Hands are not as bad as they could have been. Well, hand is not as bad as it could have been. Mermaid is completely missing an arm. Dude's eyes got better, but anatomy is pretty wonky still. I didn't give any thought to the clothes, I just wanted to cover the parts I wasn't to sure about. Background is just a mess, and someone should have taken the airbrush away from me.

Characters started getting a bit of backstory, but not too much. Just that the dude found an injured mermaid mermaid. Still no names.

2021

Decided to make it into an annual thing to redraw that piece. Coral got her name and got warmer colors. Dude got a name I forgot next day and became a pirate and a cook.

This time I started using references, none for the background though. I went a lot more expermental with the lighting, and it doesn't look too bad. Clothes still exist almost only to cover the parts I wasn't too sure about, but they are getting better. Anatomy and proportions have gotten a lot better too, Coral has at least one arm now.

Backgrond is lineless because it looked weird with the lineart. It still looks weird. Specially because the world seems to end behind the isle? Where the heck is the horizon?

2022

Sebastian finally got his name! And another complete change of outfit. Coral ended up being a clownfish. It wasn't on purpose to make the little mermaid that gets lost into a clownfish, but the colors fit her.

Decided to change the pose a bit, and, being the resposible artist that I am, I didn't use the clothing to hide the parts I wasn't sure about. That was past me. I used a rock.

Anatomy got a bit better. Specially faces and torso. But those hands are horrible. Coral's are almost non existant. The world doesn't end after the island thankfully. The rocks are quite funny looking, and the sky is not too bad for the first time doing something like that.

I abslutely hate Sebastian's color scheme. I just placed random stuff and hoped it worked. I also was too scared to do propper lighting for some reason.

2023

Sebastian finally got his final design. Poor gut has gone through a lot regarding fashion. The poses are nice, and Sebastian is finally out of the water. The rendering of the sky and trees is prety good too.

But can you tell me what the heck happened to Sebastian face? And Coral's neck?! Hands got better. At lest the one that is actually there.

Lighting and shading are way to soft. I thought I was doing something brave and extreme at the time, but no. It just looks flat. Doesn't help that there are no eye shinies.

2024