#but that means my time will be spent away from the online communities I’m apart of

[sa2chaogarden]

reevaluating a lot of what i do with myself online

i’m totally fine irl but to my friends in the computer, i just want to let you know if i seem distant

i’m always around on discord if you wanna chat

[tidalskii]

It was announced yesterday that LittleBigPlanet 3’s game servers would be closing indefinitely, putting an end to the remaining online support the original LBP trilogy still had. I’ve managed to collect my thoughts and pay my tributes to the series before I part ways with it.

This game series means the world to me, and I am extremely proud and honored to have been apart of it’s community. I started playing the games in 2010 with the demo for LittleBigPlanet on PS3 and… I wasn’t impressed. I got stuck before I even played the game! I had a second controller turned on somewhere so 6 y/o me was presented with the “Select Profile” screen.

Having no clue why none of the buttons on my controller were working, I think I just turned it off and didn’t play it for months. Idk what got me to play it again, but I’m glad I did because I fell in LOVE with the game. Everything about how it controlled just… clicked with me. I thought it was genius, the sheer amount of expressiveness you could display; tilting the controller to move your head or your hips, using the D-Pad to change your facial expression, moving each individual arm with both sticks and the limb buttons on the back, it was all so intuitive and fun to do. Although, once me and my cousin learned how to slap each other in-game, it was over for my parents’ ears lol, we’d be screaming and yelling at each other. Sure enough that Christmas, I got the full game, specifically the special kind with some of the DLC pre-installed. That’s where the REAL fun began. Nearly every night after school I’d bring a couple of friends over and we’d try to play through as many levels as we could in one-sitting. The Metal Gear Solid DLC levels I often died immediately in and I would wait for an older kid I knew to get to a checkpoint and revive me. Regardless of how bad I was at the game, it was so much fun, especially now that we were able to experience the create mode. My mom actually started playing it, too. I don’t have any pictures of it sadly but she made a really expansive house with separate rooms and secret passages everywhere, it was really cool. I’d say I spent a good year or so playing the first game, then Christmas 2011 arrived. That’s when I got LittleBigPlanet 2.

LBP2 is my favorite video game of all time, it does what every good sequel should do: expand on what made the first game so amazing without straying too far away from its core appeal. For starters, if you already owned LBP the game will ask you right off the bat if you wish to import all of your collected items, costumes, and levels into LBP2. This absolutely BLEW MY MIND and in a weird way it kind of made playing the first game obsolete. You mean to tell me EVERYTHING I’ve ever made is already here, I can just… continue working on it?! I can still rock the same costumes I had, I can play music from the FIRST game in the SECOND game?!?! That alone made LBP2 so much of a gem in my eyes, it was LITERALLY the first game and MORE. But the fun didn’t end there! It was around this time I got a PSN account, so I was able to experience everyone else’s creations online and… wow. A whole new world just opened up, a whole community to engage and interact with. I met so many amazing people, some of whom are my closest friends to this day, over a decade later. It was through a group of some older kids that I often tagged along with that started getting into anime and comics more. 2011-2014 was a magical time to be on LBP, those years really felt like “The Golden Years” of the online community. Oh yeah and LBP Karting and the portable games existed too, I guess. I played LBPK, I thought it was fun… I still own it, but I’ve barely touched it after all these years. From what I’ve heard PSP and Vita seemed like a lot of fun, I’ve just never played them. Around early-mid 2014, it was announced that there would be a third LBP game for both the PS3 and the newly-released PS4. New characters, 16-LAYERS in create-mode (!!!), and a weird purple lightbulb as the new main-antagonist of the story mode… “Newton”. I remember being so excited for it to release. We were FINALLY getting a THIRD LittleBigPlanet, for a new console, too! We sure did, alright.

To this day, I’m still not sure how to feel about LittleBigPlanet 3, and it feels like the greater community more or less can’t ether. This game… SHOULD be better than the 2nd game, and you know what? Catch me on a good day and I might say that I prefer LBP3 to LBP2. Everything’s there, a new story, cross-compatibility with LBP and LBP2, a fleshed-out create mode, all of it’s there and what we have in the game is phenomenal, however there’s one big, glaring issue that distracts it from being superior to its predecessors… this game is BROKEN. I know people like to throw out that term a lot with somewhat buggy games but oh my god, LBP3 is DANGEROUSLY glitchy and exploitative. By this point, Media Molecule had moved on from the LBP series to continue developing new games, leaving Sumo Digital to oversee LBP3’s development. I feel so bad for Sumo Digital because it’s painfully obvious Sony rushed their time to complete the game for a holiday 2014 release date… and the quality of the final game reflects the time-crunch they must’ve gone through. Joining friends can take you up to a half-hour if you’re unlucky, it’s a gamble if the game will even function properly. Often you’ll be sent back to your pod after the game rapid-fires it’s loading screen (btw serious warning for anyone with epilepsy: DON’T play LittleBigPlanet 3, it does stuff like this all the time), but when the screen fades in, Sackboy doesn’t respawn, soft-locking the game. Fun! I’m not sure if anyone else suffered from this one specific, GAME-BREAKING bug as I’ve never seen anyone else talk about it, but around 2015 or so my game’s gravity just… freaked out, regardless if you were in hover-mode or not, Sackboy would float off to the left of the screen and phase through all of the walls. I tried restarting the game, cleaning off the physical disc the sink, but nothing would fix it, I literally had to reset my game progress. Very fun! Another weird thing I ran into is the inability to place down stickers with the PS Eye Camera Tool. It just stopped working entirely at one point, even in previous games like LBP2. No idea how THAT happened, very strange bug. Despite all this… I powered through, because truthfully I do think the content in LBP3 is superior to the previous games. The music is great, I found myself genuinely invested in the story and it’s characters, the DLC packs introduced in LBP3 were all very fun, and the create mode is a GODSEND compared to the first 2 games. Honestly, that’s one of the 2 reasons why I chose to stick around with LBP3, there is SO MUCH you can do with the tools it provides you. For those of you who don’t know, for the last couple years or so I’ve been building full working models of the Thomas the Tank Engine characters in LBP3, and that’s led to me gaining a humble but amazingly awesome following in the game. I love Thomas, I love LBP, I just wanted to put those two interests together and I’m very happy people seemed to have liked what I made, which is very wholesome and sweet.

I am devastated that the game’s online services are now gone for good, but it was kind of inevitable. LBP3’s lack of quality opened the door for a lot of nasty exploitation and modifications people made to their games. The servers were hacked in 2021, and that led to the termination of the PS3’s servers. It wasn’t hard to deduce that PS4’s servers were running on borrowed-time. Regardless of how unfortunate it’s closure was, this franchise was supported for 16 years. That’s not a bad run at all. I would say I’m surprised it wasn’t closed sooner, but then again… I’m not surprised. The LittleBigPlanet community is so amazing and passionate over these games. When the 2021 server attacks happened we all rallied together online to keep it alive, if just for a little bit longer. Even at its very end, a lot of us had so much more creativity to share with the world. To all those out there listening, I hope you’re able to channel that creativity outlet even further beyond in the future, whenever and wherever that may be. As for me, I’m going to attempt to learn “Dreams”, Media Molecule’s spiritual successor to the LBP games, released on PS4/PS5. From what I’ve seen and played of that game, it scratches that itch LBP left on me. It’s so good.

Rest easy, Sackboy. Thank you for some of the best experiences I could have asked for in a video game. Here’s hoping for a LBP4 one day, old friend. 🌎

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion! 

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out. 

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home. 

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since! 

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first? 

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan. 

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet. 

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt. 

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit. 

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff. 

Fun? Yes. 

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement. 

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course,  I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it. 

Anything you'd like to add? 

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[thirteendaysintaunton]

a love letter to fire emblem & what the series has meant to me as a whole

I'm an Awakening baby. My first experience with the series was FE13 and I went in completely blind after finding the game under the Christmas tree one year. I haven't looked back since.

I can remember starting the game the day I unwrapped it and not wanting to put it down at all when it was time to head to my family's holiday party. The form of storytelling and the world building all drew me in and I loved the gameplay, but it was ultimately the characters that made me fall for the series as a whole. The supports were so fun. To me, there was no better feeling than finishing a chapter and seeing a ton of !'s on the support menu. I still feel that way when I play all the games.

There's no one in the Awakening cast that I hate, I genuinely adored the entire roster. Like I said, I went in blind. I didn't know marriage was a thing at first, so my Robin accidentally got roped into a marriage with Chrom. The kids popping up was a genuine surprise but I loved it. I spent over 300 hours in that game trying to match the most optimal pairs to get the most over powered galeforce kids imaginable.

With that said, I also found the marriage mechanics in Awakening to be bit lacking. I was 13 and only just growing into myself. I wanted Lissa & Maribelle to kiss and Sumia & Cordelia to get together. I made a Male Robin just so I could marry the female characters.

So you can imagine how I felt when I discovered the Gay Awakening Hack by UnassumingVenusaur.

There was something so special about finding a community of people who felt just like you, were just like you, in the sense that we were a group of queer/LGBTQ+ kids all trying to make videogames a more inclusive space for people like us. That community that UV built was so impactful on me as a teenager. It took some of the loneliness away.

I was there when Fates was just releasing. I followed the fan translations to the point where I sometimes still refer to the Fates characters with their Japanese names (I mean really? Azura over Aqua? come on now). I was so excited we were going to get gay options in Fire Emblem that I picked up the game when it released, before I went on spring break and my family took a little roadtrip for a vacation.

Only to find out that they had prevented the same sex couples from having kids like everyone else.

The Gay Fates Hack came up quick in development on UV's blog. They added more options, more pairings, and fixed the kid mechanic so that all couples would have a family. Once again, there was something very validating? normalizing? about just watching the Gay Fates/Awakening hacks gain so much support.

Fast forward to college. I didn't know a lot of people in real life that were into Fire Emblem. If you subtract the first person I dated and the one measly conversation we had about it, then I hadn't met another fan in person. But one of my closest friends in college turned out to be a huge fan of the series. Neither of us had ever found another FE fan out in the wild. We stayed friends for all of college and we're still friends to this day. And we dragged a bunch of our other friends down the rabbit hole with us.

When covid hit, I found myself alone on campus when all of my friends elected to stay at home/online for classes during the semester. No one tells you this, but college is typically a very lonely time in your life. Especially when there's a pandemic.

My roommates didn't even return to campus. I had the apartment largely to myself and no friends to share it with. But something that I did have? I had just gotten Three Houses for Christmas. That same friend I mentioned earlier had been playing it for a while now and we essentially had parallel playthroughs of Crimson Flower going on at the same time. They couldn't be with me on campus but I still felt connected with my friend. We talked about the game nonstop together, sent one another tea time guides and memes about our different runs. The pandemic was horribly lonely but Fire Emblem had offered me another sense of community to hold onto.

And when my friend got really sick and started treatment, we still had Fire Emblem in common. They couldn't come back to campus at all for our last few semesters. I graduated without my best friend with me but we never stopped talking or playing Fire Emblem together. And when I didn't know what to say or how to offer my support, I knew we could just talk about our silly little strategy anime game and judge the other person's taste in silly anime women.

Fire Emblem Engage is releasing this Friday and the amount of inclusion that it's said to include will be a new phase for Fire Emblem. A definite step in the right direction that previous games had only just begun to dip their toes into. And you can trust that me and my little group of friends will be talking about it together while we play from states apart.

I'm excited to see how this series will develop and grow alongside me and what other friendships I'll be able to form because of it. And, I guess I just wanted to say thank you for the good times, both in the past and in the future.

[bovine-providence]

Master’s Home!

Melone x Reader

Melone had mentioned a kink he wanted to try, and you surprise him with it after his return from a mission.

Yo @whoreiaki-kakyoin, this is that lactation fic we were talking about!

[CWs: lactation, hucow/petplay(ish?? Not sure how to tag), rough sex, Master/pet dynamics, praise kink, breeding kink.]

Melone was coming home tonight from his weeklong mission, and you were anxiously awaiting in the bedroom of your shared apartment. You had a surprise for him tonight, assuming he wasn’t going to be too tired from his travels.

You and he had a loving relationship, in which communication flowed freely. This, of course, included discussions about what both of you were interested in sexually. He had made it known early on that he was a passionate lover, and you were more than willing to keep pace with his libido. Sure, some kinks between the two of you weren’t shared, but you both shared the major ones, which was enough for your relationship.

What surprised you, though, was how long it took for him to admit to one of his fantasies.

“[Y/N],” he started one lazy afternoon that saw you sitting on the couch as he used your thighs as pillows.

“What’s up, Mel?” you responded, gently brushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. He preened at the contact, before meeting your eyes.

“I wanted to ask you about a kink I’m curious about,” he started casually.

“I’m listening.”

“How do you feel about lactation and hucows?”

You had to pause to think about it. Sure, you enjoyed the breeding kink talk in the bedroom, and maybe this was a natural progression from it. But it still warranted a discussion.

“I’ve never really thought about it seriously,” you admitted. “I’m aware of those kinks, but I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about the lactation one.”

“Why’s that?” the lilac-haired man asked, sitting up to face you.

“I mean, it would involving changing my body, and it would affect how I go about my life. It would be a big change.”

Melone nodded sagely at your response.

“I can understand your concerns. If you don’t want to do that, it’s fine.” He tilted his head at you. “And the hucow one?”

“Would it be similar to petplay?”

“I suppose,” he chuckled. “But I think it would tie in nicely with breeding.” He leaned in mischievously. “Would you want to be my little breeding heifer?”

“As long as I don’t have to moo…”

“Oh we can work with that,” he assured quickly. “I just think you’d be such a good little cow for me.”

For some reason, that brought some delicious thoughts to your mind and heat to rise between your thighs, and the night was spent excitedly exploring the ramifications in bed.

Now, you almost can’t believe what you’re doing. You were sat on the bed, dressed in a cowprint lingerie with a cow horn headband and white stockings. The bra did little to hold your breasts in place. Speaking of which…

You gently squeezed your right breast, feeling the milk leak slightly into the cup.

Even though Melone hadn’t mentioned lactation much since that afternoon, you thought about it from time to time, wondering if you could really do it. Eventually, you figured you could always try it and stop later if you didn’t like it. So, you had done some research and learned about lactation cookies. Ordering some online, you took care to avoid arousing Melone’s suspicion, tucking them away in the freezer until you could find an opportunity to try them. When Melone had told you that he would be on a weeklong mission, you saw your chance.

You perked up when you heard the front door creaking open from down the hall, and your loving boyfriend greeting you.

“I’m in the bedroom,” you called out, and soon his footsteps led to the opening of the bedroom door.

“I’m so glad to- oh,” he stopped mid-sentence. His expression turned from eager to pleased, a lecherous grin painting his lips.

“Who’s this little heifer? Is she here to be bred?” he purred.

“Hey Mel,” you greeted meekly. “I’m glad you’re home, so I wanted to try something new.”

“I can’t wait,” he answered, his suitcase forgotten by the door as he approached slowly, like a predator closing in on his prey. You leaned back slightly as he shifted onto the bed, quickly straddling you.

“You look good in cowprint,” he murmured as he took gentle hold of your jaw, leaning in for a kiss that you eagerly reciprocated. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby,” you whined. He leaned in closer, forcing you onto your back. You grabbed onto his upper arms, stroking along them as he began caressing your skin. As the two of you made out, his caresses began to shift into full-on groping, and he moved to your breasts.

“Ah,” you winced when he pressed too hard. Since you started eating those cookies that week, your breasts had become much more sensitive.

Melone pulled back, light confusion etched on his face, until he looked down and saw the wet spot forming on your bra. His eyes shot up to you immediately.

“Wait, you… did you… are we?” he questioned breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you giggled beneath your lover. “I wanted to at least see what it’s like before I made a final decision.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re the best little heifer a man could have,” he moaned, returning his attention to massaging your breasts.

“The milk only started coming in a few days ago, so I don’t think there’s a lot,” you warned.

“That’s fine,” Melone hurriedly answered. Pulling down at the edge of the bra, he glanced back up. “May I?”

“Please.”

He didn’t need further encouragement, quickly pulling down the bra so the cups were bunched beneath your breasts. Melone watched in awe as he tenderly squeezed your breasts, watching the translucent milk bead up on your nipple. Reverently, he lowered his mouth to your left nipple and suckled.

The feeling of the milk flowing into your boyfriend’s mouth was amazing. It was like pressure had been released, and seeing him get so aroused by the action turned you on further.

“Cara,” he gasped, pulling away from your still-leaking breast briefly, “you taste exquisite.” He was quick to latch back onto your reddened nipple, careful not to let a drop go unsipped.

You found yourself rutting against him, wrapping your legs around his thigh to rub your dripping cunt against him between the layers of your and his clothing. He moaned into your tit at the action, grabbing at your waist as he ground against you, equally desperate.

“Fuck, Mel,” you whined, clinging onto him, one hand wrapped into his hair, pressing him against your chest further.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes more, writhing against each other in desperate arousal as he had his fill of the milk from your left breast, then your right. Eventually, he lifted his head up to you.

Melone gazed at you, seemingly drunk on the taste of your milk. Cheeks flushed, his gaze distant, and there was a dribble running down his chin.

He looked like a mess, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fuck…” he sighed dreamily as he gazed at you.

“Mel, I want more,” you whined at him, rubbing your still-clothed pussy against him. He hissed, feeling your thigh bump against his engorged member.

“Are you really this desperate to be bred, little heifer?” his growled, his dreamy gaze quickly turning hungry.

“Please!” you begged. “Fill me up, Mel.”

“That’s Master to you,” he corrected, leaning down to sharply nip at your neck before crawling away to quickly remove his outfit, shoving it off to some corner of the room before looming over you.

“I’m sorry, Master! Please, please fill me,” you whimpered. He grinned down at you.

“Good girl. Now spread your legs for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, quickly opening your legs wide for him. He gazed down at you, still in your headband and the cowprint lingerie, your stockings beginning to show runs from the friction of rubbing your legs against his.

“I think my little heifer deserves to feel good after this lovely surprise,” he murmured, half to himself as he kneeled between your legs. He was quick to pull your panties to the side and was soon pressing two fingers into you.

After the rutting and relief of being suckled, it felt like your prayers had been answered when Melone began to mercilessly thrust his fingers in and out of you, the lewd sounds of your slickness coating his digits filling your bedroom.

You moaned loudly, rolling your hips into the sensation as Melone looked down at your squirming form.

“Feels good, huh?” he smirked. “Such an easy little bitch to please. I just need to press my fingers in and you lose all control, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” you whimpered, clutching at the sheets beneath you. Melone wasn’t dominant often, but when he was, you quickly fell in line with his commands.

“Then I want you to come on my hands. Do it, little girl,” he ordered, making sure to abuse the sweet spot inside of you that had your legs twitch and back arch.

With an undignified cry, you came on his hand, your juices coating Melone’s fingers thickly.

You gasped for air as you watched your partner lift his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss as he sucked on a slick finger. Returning his gaze to you, he placed them on your lips.

“Clean them.”

Eager to obey, you opened your mouth, allowing them entry as you sucked your juices off. You gazed up at the lilac-haired man lovingly, taking your time with the task, your tongue running across the skin until you could no longer taste yourself on them. As he withdrew his fingers, he spoke further.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Master, for fingering me and letting me clean your fingers off.” His eyes twinkled affectionately at that, pleased with how specific you were. He had trained you well.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he murmured. He gazed down at your form, using his just-cleaned hand to ensure his cock was ready. Your eyes trailed down to where Melone palmed himself; he may be fairly average in length, but his girth was where he really made you scream. It stretched you in ways that you’ve never felt before, and it pressed into places you didn’t know existed.

Finally he shifted above you, taking hold of your legs and bringing them to your chest, folding you into a mating press. “Now let me make you a mommy.” With that, he smacked the head of his cock against your clit before pressing inside you.

You let out a whiny, prolonged moan as he steadily continued, his keen eyes watching for any discomfort. Even while Domming, he never wanted to seriously hurt you. If you weren’t veritably losing your mind from pleasure, your heart would’ve been melting at the consideration.

Too soon, his hips were pressed against your own.

“Ready, little heifer?” he purred into your ear.

“Yes, Master,” you whimpered, trying (and failing) to roll your hips into his own.

“Good girl.” He began his thrusting, the position forcing his cock deeper into you. Reaching up to try clutching his shoulders, he was quick to grab your hands and press them into the mattress above your head.

“No. I want you to lay back and take it,” he murmured. Fuck, how did his saying that make you feel even hotter?

“Okay, Master,” you whispered softly. He smiled at you before leaning down, pressing a tender kiss belying the rough pace he had begun as he continued thrusting into you.

“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” he asked breathlessly.

“It does, Master, it always does,” you replied, attempting to squeeze your legs around him. He groaned at the contact.

“Such a good heifer for me. Can’t… can’t wait to make you a mommy. You’ll be such a good mother,” he muttered. “And you’ll look so… fucking… beautiful pregnant. I can’t wait for that…”

“I can’t wait either,” you sobbed, tears beginning to run down your cheeks at the thought. “I wanna… I wanna make you a daddy… make you proud…”

“Oh baby,” Melone sighed, leaning down to shower your face and neck in kisses, “you make me proud everyday. Just keep being you.”

“Melone,” your voice cracked, and you found yourself shoving his hands away to wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck.

“You’re a good girl for Master, alright?” you heard him chuckle above you, his thrusts picking up.

You could feel another orgasm beginning to form, your core tightening. And by the sounds of it, Melone was close as well.

“Master, can I… can I cum? Please?” you begged.

“But you’ve already cum, cara,” Melone teased into your ear.

“But I wanna cum again,” you whined needily.

“You can cum again, IF,” he decided, “you beg just a little more.”

“Please, Master! I wanna cum! I wanna show you how good you make me feel,” you needled, your voice turning high-pitched from the satisfaction you were feeling. “I wanna show you how-ah! How you make me feel!”

“Oh baby,”Melone moaned, “when you beg like that, how can I say no?”

You soon felt his fingers rub against your clit urgently, shooting you over the edge into bliss.

As you felt the waves of pleasure flowing through you, you felt Melone press himself against you, and a warmth filling you. You gazed up at him, meeting his own eyes dazed in bliss. He leaned down to press a kiss upon your lips.

“How was that?” he inquired breathlessly.

“It was great,” you murmured shyly. He smiled down at you.

“Good,” he whispered sweetly, sharing another kiss before he pulled away, taking care to gently place your legs back down.

“Stay there, I’ll start up a bath,” he threw over his shoulder as he got up and headed for the attached bathroom.

You snuggled further into the sheets, gasping for air after the roughness of your reunion with Melone. Lifting your hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you felt the headband had fallen askew. Smiling to yourself, you pulled it off.

A moment later Melone walked back over to you.

“Let’s get you out of this, amore,” he murmured as he gently began to tug your now-dirtied lingerie off of your exhausted body. As you leaned up to help him with removing the bra, he gazed down at you dreamily.

“This was a wonderful surprise to come home to,” he noted. “Thank you.”

“I enjoyed it more than I thought I would,” you admitted bashfully. He leaned down to pick you up, carrying your nude form princess-style to the waiting bath. Eyeing the bubble bath as he strolled in, you turned up to face him.

“Could you join me? I imagine you’re tired after traveling and… this,” you blushed. He smiled down at you.

“Of course,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before placing you down and helping you into the tub. As you got settled, he moved to join you, sinking into the hot water behind you.

“I’m glad I’m home,” he sighed, nuzzling into your hair as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m glad to have you back, Mel,” you purred back.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Nine

chapter eight - Chapter Nine: The Soldier and the Mutant - chapter ten

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n deals with the new knowledge about who her father truly was and receives a surprise visitor.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fluff, FLUFF, my gosh it’s nearly suffocating how much fluff, language, one allusion to sex, mentions of suicide, mentions of torture

Word Count: 10.1k 

A/N: I’m just gonna let this one speak for itself, thanks for being so patient 😉 

----

“HYDRA?” 

“HYDRA…” I sighed.

Melanie and I were sat on her front porch, coffee cups in hand and revelations on our lips. I’d been home for two days and the shock of finding out about my father’s longstanding lie, while still fresh, was morphing into numbness. Being his daughter too, Mel needed to know the truth as well.

“This guy’s gotta be lying,” my sister waved a hand in front of her, “He has to be, he’s a criminal a-and he’s crazy.” “He’s not lying, Mels,” I held my head in my hand with my elbow resting on my chair, “I went online and scoured the internet, Dad’s name was listed in the HYDRA files leaked ten years ago.”

Mel leaned forward in her seat and hung her head, bracing her weight on her knees. My sister had always been a rock, unshakable even in the face of the worst circumstances. Even though she was keeping it together for my sake, I could see the well of emotions that would spring up once I was gone. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, shaking her head softly, “But looking back, it makes so much sense.” I furrowed my brows at her, “You wanna spell this one out for me?”

“Think about it,” she turned in her seat to face me, “Dad was wracked with guilt every day since he came home from the,” she set her mug down on the coffee table and made air quotes, “‘service.’ Nightmares and flashbacks and that awful depression…I mean, the man tore himself apart for what he’d done when he wasn’t passed out from drinking. He’d have had to do some pretty nasty things to feel that much guilt.” “Yeah, well, he should have felt guilty,” I grumbled, staring down at the coffee to hide the tears slowly forming in my eyes, “He hurt innocent people.”

“Wow…” she said quietly.

I sat forward in my seat, “Mom can never find about this, the shock could kill her. And as much as I feel like she should know who she was married to, I don’t think I can destroy another person’s image of Dad.” “No, I don’t think we should tell her either,” Mel agreed, taking a sip from her coffee, “I’m sorry enough that you had to find out. Wait,” she slapped a hand over my arm, “Does Bucky know? You said you and Sam were working with him.” I had done my best to put Bucky out of my mind for the past two days, failing spectacularly. I had gotten so used to him being by my side the past week that once he was gone, it felt like something was missing. Never mind the way I’d left him, those blue eyes begging me not to shut him out, the very same thing I’d asked him not to do. I had to remind myself at least ten times a day that removing myself from his life was for his good. 

“Yeah, he knows,” I looked back down at my lap, squeezing the coffee mug so tight, I thought it might shatter. Mel threw her hands out to their sides, “And?” 

“And he knows,” I replied, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough answer for her. “So this guy finds out that our dad tortured him for years and he’s been running around Europe with his daughter and he had no reaction? What are you not telling me?” “Mel, what do you want me to say?” I snapped my head up, “He was there when Zemo told me and he’s not with me now, there’s nothing more to tell…"

I may have been a mutant, but sometimes I wished I’d have gotten my sister’s detective skills instead. She could take one look at a person and go Sherlock Holmes on their ass before they knew what hit them. It was one of the reasons she’d made such a good psychologist before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

Mel inhaled sharply and her eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, do you-“ “Don’t say it,” I held up a hand and forcefully pressed my eyes shut, a few teardrops squeezing out onto my eyelashes, “Please don’t say it.” As requested, she fell silent, her hand slipping onto my shoulder and rubbing small circles. I trained my eyes ahead of me, focusing on the last remnants of the morning’s sunrise. I’d always loved getting up early enough to watch the light spread across the sky, giving me hope that whatever pain I was feeling was only temporary. I found no such comfort gazing at the spectacle in my current state.

“It’s better this way,” I said, not able to look at her lest she see my contradictory eyes, “Trust me.” “Well,” Mel sighed loudly, “You’re the one that knows the guy…Just promise me one thing?” “Hmm?” She pulled one of my hands out of the death grip I had on my cup and took it into one of hers, “This is huge news, life-shattering, and we’re allowed to process it however we need to. But I see that look in your eyes, none of this is on you. Don’t blame yourself for what Dad did to him.” And if Mel had spent the time I had with Bucky, watched him in the bar in Madripoor, been in the therapy session with him, seen his reaction to losing his arm in Riga, I knew she’d feel different. I had a front row seat to Bucky’s PTSD and my father had been the ringleader. How could I not feel a little responsible? ——

Sam, Sarah and I had talked the boat situation over the morning before. The offer that Sarah had received from the guy who had been interested before Sam returned home had fallen through, he’d cited the reason as that it would take more money to fix than it was worth. Ever the hero, Sam had phoned everyone in the community who had known his parents and called in as many favors as he could. As I pulled up to the docks, ready to roll up my sleeves and begin working, I was delightfully surprised at how many people had responded. There were at least a dozen sets of helping hands waiting to work. It was moments like these that reminded me how lucky I was to live in such a close knit community.

I weaved through people, greeting and thanking everyone for coming out as I made my way to the boat. “Black Falcon to the rescue again, huh?” I called out to Sam as I climbed aboard, he was standing at the bow of the ship next to somebody whose back was turned to me. “You know it,” Sam called back, turning around and facing me, along with the man who he’d been in conversation with. 

It was Bucky.

My heart stopped and I froze in my tracks, adrenaline shooting through my veins. Our eyes met across the deck and we may as well have been back in Sokovia. There was the same pain threaded through his ocean blue eyes only enhanced by the fear reflecting in mine. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at once, but knew which instinct needed to be listened to. 

I looked to Sam and faked a hopefully convincing smile, “I’ll be below deck.” Hurriedly, I hauled my ass across the deck and raced down the steps. My hands flew to cover my nose and mouth as my breathing increased. He was here, he couldn’t be here, why was he here? Any progress I’d made, however small, in trying to put Bucky to rest had been revived the second I saw his face. 

“You wanna explain what that was?” I looked up to see Sam stepping off the final stair and crossing his arms in front of me, “One day you’re friends and the next you bolt outta the room when you see the guy?” “Just,” I strained, stopping to take as soothing a breath as I was capable of and straightening my posture, “Keep me where he isn’t.” Sam sighed, reading me all too well, “Y/n, if this is about your dad, there’s noth-“ “Now what needs to be done down here?” I interrupted, placing my hands on my hips and hoping that if I projected confidence, I’d start to feel it. 

“Fine,” Sam conceded to my wishes and gestured to the engine we were standing next to, “Check the zincs. If you need to replace ‘em, we’ll have to run down to Joe’s. And just so you know,” he stood at the steps and pointed between me and where Bucky most likely stood above us, “I don’t agree with this.” I shook my head to shake myself out of the moment as he left me to my work, blissfully hidden from the person I wanted to be with most. 

——

I had never experienced a more uncomfortable day.

For the entire morning and afternoon, it was like switching a light on and off. If Bucky came below deck to fix something, I filed out as quick as I could to work above deck. We didn’t interact more than when we passed each other once in a while, each brush of shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me. Sam had been no help either, he’d prevented me from making the necessary run to the hardware store or helping Sarah with lunch. He was determined to try and quarantine me and Bucky on the boat, most likely in hopes that my resolve would weaken. No matter how much it was killing me, I kept my distance and my head down as we made repairs in awkward silence.

When the sun began to set over the waters and there was nothing left to be done for the day, I carefully made my way up the stairs and listened for voices. When I heard none close by, I took quick steps across the deck and hopped off the boat onto the dock. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Bucky, who was stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, was behind me and kept on my path to the outdoor kitchen area Sarah was closing up. “Good day?” I asked, grabbing an extra rag to try and get the oil off my hands from working on the engine.

“Better than you,” she retorted, “You’ve had that sour look on your face since you got here.” “Just,” I sighed and stopped my rigorous rubbing for a second, “Still thinking about everything…” Stopping her cleaning while I resumed mine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against mine. Out of Sam, Melanie, myself and her, Sarah was the most removed from the situation. My dad hadn’t interacted much with the Wilsons, he hadn’t interacted with hardly anyone outside of his family, so Sarah didn’t have many memories with him nor had she fought HYDRA. It was actually nice to be around someone who didn’t have his dirty deeds bouncing around their head like an old school Microsoft screensaver.

“You,” she pressed a kiss to the side of my head, “Are one of the best human beings I know and nothing can change that, not even this.” Starting the argument that this revelation did in fact change a lot of things would be useless, I knew better than to try and prove Sarah wrong. I simply patted her arm and leaned into her embrace, taking the comfort I could get even if I didn’t necessarily deserve it. 

“By the way,” she said as she unwrapped her arms, “Sam invited Bucky to stay the night.” My stomach dropped, “WHAT?” “He was gonna go find a hotel room but that’s ridiculous when he can just crash on the couch,” Sarah shrugged, wiping off the counter once again. “Why?” I pressed my hands to my mouth in a praying position, “Why could you not be an angel who has to help everybody, just this once?”

Sarah turned to face me, placing on hand on her hip, “The guy saved your ass from being killed and ran you to the hospital,” I opened my mouth to ask her how she knew that, she held up a finger to me, “Sam told me all about Riga. It’s the least we can do for him. And don’t even think about running to Mel’s place for the night, you promised the boys you’d take them to school tomorrow morning.” I stood there, nervously wringing the cloth through my hands as Sarah walked away to finish up another task before night fell. All my efforts to keep away from Bucky were failing and it wasn’t due to anything on my part. How was I supposed to protect him if we were constantly around each other? As I looked out to the deck of the boat, I could see Sam and Bucky had winded up there drinking beers to celebrate their long day of work. It was a scene that only days ago, I could have easily slipped into. I didn’t just miss Bucky, I missed the dynamic the three of us had grown to have. Sam would have pressed a beer into my hand and lightheartedly elbowed me, I’d have settled down next to Bucky whose hand would have naturally drifted to the small of my back…It would have been a perfect end to the day. Instead, I was cursing my father for ever having dipped a toe in HYDRA’s pool, his decision had ruined my life.

——

I had two vendettas, one with Sam for inviting Bucky to stay and one with my quickly drying throat that begged for water. 

Laying in bed with my pillow smashed across my face, I peeked one eye out to check my alarm clock. 1:29AM. I’d laid in the same position for an hour, hoping that sleep took me over and my thirst would die till the morning. The family had been asleep for hours and with the amount of work Sam and him did, Bucky should have been passed out too. If I pulled it off just right, I could sneak downstairs to grab a bottle of water and get out before he ever stirred. Waking an ex-assassin wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I tiptoed out of my room, mindful of the creaking door as I passed AJ and Cass’ bedroom. Once I got to the stairs, I chose a silent approach and used my energy to float my way down the steps. I continued doing so through the kitchen, sneaking a peek over to the couch to see Bucky sound asleep. I opened up the fridge quietly and reached in blindly, feeling around till I hit a bottle and pulling it out. Tucking the bottle under my arm, I placed my hands back at my side and began to let the energy lift me.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” The familiar voice startled me, causing me to absorb the energy back into my palms quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration before turning to see Bucky, laying in the same position I’d found him in with his lids still shut. “Forgot,” I said, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in my voice, “Super soldier.” 

Flipping the blanket Sarah had given to him off his body, he swung his long legs off the couch and sat up to face me. It truly wasn’t fair how good he looked even in the middle of the night, the moonlight coming through the windows and highlighting his silhouette. Admiring his profile was the only thing making the uncomfortable silence semi-bearable. 

“We need to talk,” he started. “We really don’t,” I hurriedly replied, starting to rotate my body to flee. Bucky stood up, the couch creaking in relief as he did, “Yes, we do. You left so fast the other day I couldn’t get two words in.” “Because you didn’t need to,” I said from my place in the kitchen, “There’s nothing you can say to make any of this better and you shouldn’t. In fact, you should hate me.” He raised a tired eyebrow, “Hate you?” 

“Yes,” I said, a little louder, “Hate me for what my father did to you, hate me for being his daughter. I hate me right now, I don’t understand why you don’t.” “Because there’s nothing to hate,” Bucky chuckled softly, “You of all people have given me the least to hate.” “Bucky, of all people you should hate me the most,” I said firmly, setting the forgotten bottle on the counter, “We travel the world all week and then you find out I’m the daughter of the man whose job was to hook you up to machines an-and torture you all day. That’s the man who I drew pictures of and kissed every night before bed and thought was the greatest person to ever walk the fucking planet,” I spread my arms out to accentuate the point, “That man is one of the reasons for all that pain seeping out of you. And guess what? I’m him. I’m literally his flesh and blood! So go ahead, hate me! You have every right to, and it would make this all so much easier if you did.” “Make what easier? Ignoring each other?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I don’t want to do that.” I knew he wasn’t going to let it go, I had only one decent shot at ending the conversation and I needed to take it, even if it broke my heart. “Well, it’s what I want,” I picked up the bottle again, trying to pretend I was as confidant in my decision to walk away as my words were.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Bucky said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips, something I always found cute but now found annoying. 

It may have been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my entire life, but it was also truth. I wanted to leave Bucky before he inevitably left me. “No, it’s not,” I said, my voice threatening to tremble as I used it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?” I hadn’t dared to make too much contact with those wild eyes that I’d fallen for, I’d only give in all the quicker and let his grace draw me straight into his arms. He’d called my bluff, knowing that lying to him was easy when I didn’t actually have to see him and that I couldn’t continue the charade if that changed. As I dragged my eyes up to meet his, the tears I’d been fighting back began to come forward. He looked broken and whole at the sight of me, exactly how I felt.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” I whispered, my throat closing with emotion.

“I want you to tell me, to my face,” he paused, drawing a shallow breath, “That I’m crazy and that I read every signal wrong.” It would have been less painful if he’d sucker punched me with his left hand, I’d have actually preferred it. It had taken everything in me to tell just one lie, I couldn’t do it again to either one of us. But I also couldn’t succumb to my feelings. “Bucky…” I shakily began, clenching my fists at their sides.

“Because you’ve been living in my head pretty much since the minute I met you, and I don’t wanna sweep this week under the rug like it was nothing,” Bucky made a sweeping motion with his hand, “I don’t think I can.” “Bucky, we can’t…I can’t do that to you.” “Do what?” he asked confusedly, squinting his eyes as if he couldn’t see the issue. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I snapped, allowing the tears to break free of their restraints and shed themselves, “There’s going to come a day where every memory of what he put you through is going to be blamed on me and I can’t wait for the day where you wake up and look at me like I’m the monster my father was. I can’t have a little of you, Bucky, and then lose you entirely.” My cheeks were wet with my guilt, I made no effort to dry them or cease their streams. I stood there on the edge of where the kitchen met the living room staring at the man who held my heart, trying to pry it from his hands to no avail. Bucky looked just as surprised by the revelation as I’d been when it flew from my lips without any opposition from my head. 

“What did you say to me in Riga?” he whispered, his voice raising slightly to try and emphasize the point he was about to make, “’I don’t believe that any part of you is capable of me?’ ‘That’s not who you really are?’” he echoed my sentiments from days ago, “You’re not him. If I believed there was any of him in you, I wouldn’t be standing here begging you to stop beating yourself up about this.” He took a step forward, waiting to see if I walked away but I was too focused on him to think about running. He continued coming forward, “Y/n, I can’t walk away from this like you mean nothing to me. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees me as Bucky Barnes before anything else. I gave you every reason to write me off and you didn’t give up on me,” he paused, swallowing harshly as he stopped in front of me, “When I’m with you, I feel safe for the first time in a long time. There’s never gonna come a day where I stop lookin’ at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

There were mere inches left between us, the words I had been dying to hear were now mine for the taking and I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Of course he had to come and hit me with my own affirmations, making perfect sense. The side of my mind that believed I didn’t deserve this happiness was screaming that these feelings would fade, that my father’s sins would always be at the forefront of us. The other side that wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between us was telling me to believe him and let myself be cared for, something I’d always believed I was too broken for. And somehow they were both drowned out by the excitement I felt with Bucky in such close proximity, staring down at me with those cerulean pools, infused with the darkness that sent a chill down my spine. There was a palpable change in the air, from emotional to the great and grand something we finally near naming. Every part of me wanted to reach out and take him for for myself, to kiss him and pull him so close that there was no telling where I began and he ended. If there was a chance for me to back out, it was now. I could run to my room, to my car, anywhere that he wasn’t. But at the end of the day, that wasn’t what I wanted. I could either let myself be held captive by crimes I’d never committed, or I could dedicate myself to loving the man who the universe had somehow tied me to long ago. 

“Tell me to stop,” Bucky said, his voice hitting that low timbre that made goosebumps break out across my skin. 

I couldn’t deny either one of us any longer.

Bucky took a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I backed to accommodate him and his plans. A small gasp left me as my back hit the kitchen wall, my hands reaching back to press against it to try and find purchase on something. There was now only a breath’s width of space left between Bucky and I, our shared air growing more and more heated as we bathed in the anticipation of the moment. His eyes flicked between my y/e/c ones and my lips, looking for any signs of hesitation that didn’t exist. He placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head to his liking, pausing to take in the sight of my tear streaked face in the last seconds before we let loose the storm that had been brewing inside us both. I took the time to admire the wonder on his face, the two of us his newest discovery in a world he had long been asleep to.

He leaned in and our lips finally touched, euphorically.

I found myself unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensation I’d wanted to feel since our dance in Madripoor. Bucky didn’t overstep his bounds, he kept our mouths softly connected as we absorbed each other. When he disconnected our lips, whether to repeat the act or pull away, my body snapped into action and my hands flew to his neck, pulling him back down to me. Our lips didn’t fight for dominance so much as they did try and take in as much of each other as they could. Bucky’s hand slipped from my chin and both fell to my hips, pulling me flush against his body. On his tongue, I could taste the remnants of however many beers he’d shared with Sam, they’d stayed on the boat till the first evening stars started to appear. The scent of him, freshly showered after a long day of work, invaded my senses and spurred me on further, my hands moving to fist the back of his blue henley. With our kisses becoming more fervent, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my hips and lifted me so effortlessly, it only made the moment more heated. I wound my legs around his waist and let him carry me to wherever he desired, him easily supporting my weight and never disconnecting our lips as he fell to the couch. My hands snaked up his back to thread themselves through the short brown locks, causing him to pull away with a soft moan before diving back into my mouth. His flesh hand took hold of the back of my head and pushed me further into the kiss, trying to taste as much of me as he could. This. This was what I had been craving since the moment I’d realized I was far more starved of Bucky’s touch than I’d thought I’d been. The delightful friction our bodies created, the pressure of our lips dancing together, the knowledge that I was just as much his as he was mine. No more questioning, no more stolen moments wondering what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. This was whole and perfect and right. 

Eventually, the second long breaks we took for became insufficient and we needed to part for longer. Bucky looked gorgeously spent, his half lidded eyes following me, his lips deliciously swollen and his hair messed up from where my hands had been. I smiled as I dragged my hands to his cheek and ran my thumb over his plump lower lip, bringing a lopsided grin to his face. There was a joy I hadn’t seen him express yet and my stomach flipped knowing that I was the one to bring it in him.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of our passion,  “Please.” In my palms, I held one of the world’s most deadly men, someone whose reputation had consisted of how ruthless a killer he’d once been. And here he was, warm and soft and begging me not to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, delighting in how his eyes brightened at hearing my words. Contrasting the intensity of the minutes before, I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bucky’s with as little pressure as I could. He chased them the second I pulled away, eliciting a giggle out of me that he swallowed, kissing me so lovingly it almost broke my heart. He inhaled me like I was oxygen and he’d been deprived far too long. It didn’t occur to me that there was a chance I was his first kiss since before he shipped out in the ’40’s. “I don’t wanna stop,” he mumbled against my lips. “Then don’t,” I replied, breathing in his soft exhales, “We’ll stay up all night doing this.” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from my mouth to turn his head and press tender kisses to the palm I’d been cradling his cheek in. He tugged me closer then, my hands winding around his shoulders and his face burying itself in my neck. My laugh at the sensation of his scruff quickly morphed to a moan as he planted drawn out kisses against every inch of the bruises our encounter with Walker in Riga had left me with. I extended my neck to give him better access, feeling his lips twist in a wicked grin as his ministrations caused my breathing to quicken. “Okay, if you keep doing this,” I gasped, trying to steady my voice, “We’re gonna be up all night doing something else.” He pecked the column of my neck once more before pulling his head out and facing me, still smiling. I pressed my forehead to his and he nuzzled his nose against mine, still desperate to keep any contact he could. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Bucky confessed, rubbing his metal hand up and down my back, “Thought about it in Riga, when we were fighting, in the alleyway…”

“Me too,” I agreed, grinning uncontrollably, “But you know why I’m glad it didn’t happen till now?” Bucky hummed questioningly, “Because this is the longest we’ve been together without someone interrupting us.”

Bucky chortled loud enough for me to feel the need to cover his mouth, causing me to laugh myself. I never thought that there would come a day where the two of us would be sitting on my couch in the middle of the night, as lighthearted as could be. This was a slice of heaven after all that we’d been through. “Do you believe me now when I say my opinion of you is never gonna change?” Bucky asked. Had he not proven to me that it was true, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’d have punished the both of us for the rest of my life. “As long as you believe me when I say that I know you’ll never hurt me.” I knew that there was so many layers to his pain, most that I would never understand, but he couldn’t keep a part of himself hidden forever. If we were going to do this, we were going do it wholeheartedly, taking the best and the worst parts of each other. The unlovable would never go unloved as long as we were together.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, tightening the arm around my waist and bringing the other to my face, “Okay.” He pulled me down to press his lips to each of my cheeks, landing one last one to my mouth.

Our kisses became longer and softer, signaling that though we were both eager to explore this new territory, exhaustion was running the show. We eventually slowed down to where Bucky’s face rested in the juncture where my neck met my shoulder while my head rested against his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand running through his hair. My lips laid featherlight kisses against his temple every few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that I could do so freely now. I could feel his hot breath hit my skin at such a leisurely pace that if it hadn’t have been for his metal thumb rubbing my waist every once in a while, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep. Eventually, when my eyelids began to shut against my will, Bucky shifted on the couch to lay both of us down. I settled naturally on top of him, my head against his chest and a hand resting on each of his broad shoulders. Just when I thought in my drowsy haze that nothing could make the moment any more perfect, Bucky pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arms around my back, securing my body to his.

This was peace.

This was right.

This was what we deserved.

——

At the sound of hushed voices and grunts, my eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times and made out the sight of my nephews, AJ throwing punches and Cass deflecting them with the shield that had laid in the hallway for days. After days spent witnessing some of the worst the world had to offer, this was the purity that I needed to see.

“Bucky…” I whispered, he inhaled sharply as he awoke with one arm slung over my waist and the other hung over the edge of the couch. I tapped his chest and pointed to my nephews, still oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” Bucky called, his morning voice rougher than it was the rest of the day. 

The boys jumped at the sound, Cass shoving the shield back in its case and him and AJ running as soon as it hit the ground with mischievous smiles on their faces. I laughed softly, looking up to see Bucky lazily smiling. I had the best view in the world, close enough to see the lines that drew his grin up, so different from the frowning ones I was so used to seeing. When he tilted his head down and our eyes met, his smile made no effort to lessen itself.

“Morning,” he said, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of my head.

“Morning,” I replied, shimmying up his body and taking hold of his cheeks, our lips meeting in early morning bliss, “We’re in deep shit.” “Why’s that?” he asked.

“The boys can’t keep a secret to save their lives,” I chuckled, “So you need to enjoy your last day alive because Sam is going to kill you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “Thanks for the warning.” I dropped my head back to his chest, picking up one of his dog tags in my hand and reading his name pressed in the metal. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but as I rubbed a thumb over the necklace I was reminded that Bucky and I should have never met. He should have been long gone by now, Captain America’s childhood friend who met a tragic end before he could see the war won. He wasn’t supposed to be here, warming my body with his and pressing the sweetest kisses I’d ever known to my skin. Our being together defied time itself.

“Seeing them, the boys…” Bucky began, still stroking my hair, “I think I get what you and Sam were talking about back in Maryland.”

I rested my chin on his pec to see him, his gaze focused on the ceiling in deep thought. “Steve giving him the shield…It’s not the same at all.”

I shook my head, sadly, giving confirmation to his revelation. I didn’t begrudge him for not understanding right away, unless you were in Sam’s shoes you could only have so much of an understanding. The unrelenting way that Bucky had pushed him was what had caused me to call him out on several occasions. But if the week we’d had with our confrontation with the police, meeting Isaiah and coming to Delacroix had finally shown him the flaw in his thinking, I was glad. “I think you should talk to him,” I suggested. He scoffed, “I think I owe him a lot more than that.

“Well, he’s probably already out on the boat. And I,” I groaned as I sat up, straddling Bucky’s hips, “Promised the boys that I’d take them to school so we both need to get up.” Bucky made a similar sound as he swung his legs over the couch, pivoting my body so that we were in a similar position we’d been in in the middle of the night. He took my face in his hand and gave a kiss so long, I knew I’d feel the ghost of his lips until the next time I was able to feel the real thing. To think just hours before I’d been hellbent on convincing him that we couldn’t allow ourselves to act on our feelings. Here I was now struggling to let go of him to spend an hour apart at most. 

The giggling on the other side of the wall broke the spell though.

Bucky and I broke apart with a shared smile. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing off of him to disappear around the corner.

After dressing for the day, I corralled the boys into my car. I could practically hear their predictable thoughts and feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I shut my door. “There’s donuts with both your names on them if you promise not to tell Uncle Sam what you saw this morning.”

A resounding chorus of enthusiastic ‘okays’ reminded me that I was the best aunt in the world who made the worst parenting decisions. 

——

By nothing short of a miracle, Bucky was still alive when I returned.

We worked on the boat with familiar stolen glances and secret smirks when Sam had his back turned. At some point Sarah kicked the two of them off the boat for attempting to repair the water pump, something she’d been repairing and Bucky and I were forced to separate. As the two men departed the dock, he turned around to catch one last look at me and flashed the smile I’d seen more of in the last twelve hours than I had all week. 

“You wanna tell me what changed from last night?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been staring at that man with googly eyes all day,” she climbed aboard the boat, “You’re also lucky that our brother is clueless.” 

I rolled my eyes and bumped my hip against hers, “Freakin’ mom vision, can’t get anything past you.” “I’m just glad you got out of your own way, he seems like a good guy,” Sarah smiled, “He’s also fine as hell, if you haven’t noticed. If you wouldn’t have gone for it, I might have.” Our loud laughter mixed together as I whacked her with the towel I’d been using to clean an oil stain off of the boat.

Later that day, after finishing helping my sister with a few repairs we could get done without interruptions from Sam and Bucky, I wandered to our backyard to behold a sight I never thought I’d see. Sam was throwing the shield around while Bucky stood beside him. I stopped at the side of the house to watch, the Vibranium bouncing off of training pads from our garage that were strapped to the tree. Since Sam had brought the shield home six months ago, I’d never seen him do more than pick it up and look at it every once in a while. He’d kept it stored away in his bedroom in its casing, AJ and Cass hadn’t even seen it until he’d left it in the hall after returning from Maryland. To see him wielding it now felt…right. He looked just as natural with it as Steve had. Bucky had made a 180 as well, he looked content watching Sam as he caught the shield in its return journey back to them. If I hadn’t watched them bicker like schoolchildren for the better portion of the week, I’d have mistaken them for friends. “Are you telling me that you two could’ve man-hugged it out back in that interrogation room?” I shouted as I watched them clasp hands and pull each other in, “Coulda spared yourselves a lot of discomfort.”

They both laughed and turned to face me, in an effort to save time as I made my way out to where they stood. “So what’s new?” I asked with a knowing smile, eyeing Sam as he held the shield at his side

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, “And a little bit of everything.”

I chuckled before my eyes inevitably found Bucky’s, who was already waiting for me with an outstretched palm. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “Yeah,” I reached out and intwined our fingers. “Whoa! Wait, wait, wait,” Sam boomed, gesturing to our locked hands, “What the hell is this?”

“Something new,” I shrugged, looking up and matching Bucky’s smile.

Sam groaned in disgust, “You’ve been here twenty four hours, Barnes, you couldn’t’ve kept your hands off my sister? I-I can’t even look at this, it’s sickening, ugh…” he turned his back to us and began his walk back to the house, spinning around quickly and stuttering, “You know what? I-“ he closed his mouth and shook his head, “Uh-uh, nope, can’t do it.” Bucky and I both snorted as we watched him leave, voicing his displeasure to himself. I looked down and noticed the packed duffle bag that rested at Bucky’s feet, “I get the feeling there’s something you need to tell me?” He sighed, reaching blindly to weave his fingers with my other hand’s set. “There’s something I gotta go do. A couple somethings actually. I talked to Sam, or at least he talked to me,” one corner of his mouth quirked up, “This whole making amends thing, I haven’t been doing the greatest job of it. There’s too many names in that book that don’t have closure about what happened to someone they loved. If I stand a chance at putting what happened in the past, I gotta go ‘do the work’.”

I rubbed my thumb over his smooth metal knuckle, staring down at the space between us. “Yeah, you do,” I looked up at him, “Recovery sucks, there’s no sophisticated way of putting it. Sam and I have both seen the ugly side of it. But you owe it to yourself to work as hard as you can for your freedom, as difficult as it can be sometimes.” Bucky leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “If it hadn’t’ve been for you, I might not have believed that. I wanna get better for you too, to try and be the man you deserve.”

I hummed and bit down on my bottom lip, smiling widely. “So…you kinda like me.” “Yeah,” Bucky chuckled softly, “Just a little bit.”

The warmth I felt radiating through me, brought on by nothing more than a touch of our hands and a shared smile powered me in a way my energy never could. “Go,” I said after a few seconds of silence, “Do whatever you need to do. I think there’s some things here that I need to take care of myself.” Bucky pulled back to look my face over as if to commit every inch to his memory before holding the back of my head and pressing a kiss to my lips. Perhaps it was cruel that I had just gotten him and now had to let him go for an undetermined period of time. But his recovery meant more to me than any amount of heart pounding touches or earth shattering kisses he could give. If we ever had a shot of making it, we needed to go to our separate corners and heal.

I hesitantly broke away from his lips first, rubbing mine together after to memorize the taste he’d left. “If I don’t let you go now, I won’t be able to…” “It won’t be forever,” he shook his head, bumping his nose against mine, “Sam’s gonna call me if he gets a lead on Karli.” Rather than keep him longer with my insecurities about jumping back into hero work now knowing who my father had truly been, I decided that dealing with that was for my personal healing. I reached my arms up to wind around his neck, his finding their new home around my waist and for a split second in time, nothing else mattered. There was just me, Bucky and the future I hoped we had ahead of us. I memorized the feel of him, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, his soft hair between my fingers, the scratch of his stubble against my neck. I hadn’t had time to daydream about Bucky since recognizing my feelings for him but even if I had, they’d have never done the real thing near justice.

“Stay safe, Sergeant,” I said, pulling back to peck his lips one last time and releasing him from my hold.

Bucky picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving my hand one more squeeze and holding it as he started to walk backwards. Once we reached a point where the only way to keep the contact was to follow him, we let go with a brush of our fingers till I was only holding air. With a final shared look, he turned his back to me and started down the dirt path that would lead him from our corner of Louisiana to the rest of the world. In so many ways I felt as if we’d traveled back to 1943 when he’d shipped out for England. I was sending him off to another war, this time battling his own past. Above any other feeling I felt for Bucky, the one that topped the list was belief. I believed in him more than he believed in himself and I wanted that to change. He could do it and once he did, there was no telling just how happy we could be.

But I in turn had to deal with my own demons.

——

While I wish I could have said I had a plan like Bucky’s, I had no idea what the first step was to healing past what my father had done.

HYDRA wasn’t a topic that I could just plop down on a therapist’s couch and start discussing, there were only so many people I could talk to about it. I found myself wishing that Steve was still around, next to Bucky he was the world’s leading expert on how much damage the organization could do. Without a blueprint of how to begin mending my wounds, I was left to wallow in my own grief over the man I’d believed my dad to be. Sam, however, was on fire.

After him, Sarah and I had made the unanimous decision that the boat was too important to our family to part with, he had launched into the most intense training I’d ever seen him put himself through. He was both blowing me away and not surprising me at all with his dedication.

One morning, I came outside at his normal time to come home from his 6AM run with a cup of coffee for me and a Gatorade for him. On cue, he came jogging up the dirt path I’d watched Bucky leave on days ago.

“You’re inhuman,” I said, tossing him the drink as he approached, “I’m convinced of it.” “It’s nothin’ you couldn’t be doing,” he panted. 

“Yeah, I can run with you or I can get up before sunrise. A combo deal is not gonna happen,” I chortled before taking a sip of my coffee. 

Sam joined me and sat down beside me on our back porch, the view of the blue waters a perfect accent to the almost fully risen sun. “Look, I don’t wanna know any details but…you and Bucky?”

I smiled as I stared down into my mug, just the thought of him causing happiness to bloom in my chest. “It was kinda happening the whole time, it just took us a while to realize it.” Sam groaned, taking a long swig of his drink. “That’s all I need to know, as long as you both are happy and not too disgusting with each other,” he looked out the corner of his eyes at me, “I think I can live with it.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you,” I patted his sweaty shoulder, instantly regretting the decision and wiping my palm on my bathrobe, “That shield starting to feel like it’s yours?” Sam chuckled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s not mine anymore, it’s…weird. Talking with Isaiah was sobering and he’s allowed to be as bitter as he wants. The man’s earned to right to feel anything after what he’s been through. But,” he sighed, “I couldn’t let it go. All that pain and suffering, I can’t let it go to waste.” “You couldn’t not be a hero even if you tried,” I shook my head in amazement, beaming with pride at my brother, “I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” he hit my knee with the back of his hand, “I’ve got Torres working on some things, hopefully we can figure out where Karli might be going next-“ I couldn’t lead both him and Bucky to believe I was seriously considering going back to the fight. “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I held up a hand, “When you find them, it’s gonna be just you and Bucky. I’m out.” He furrowed his brows and twisted to face me fully, “Why?” “I can’t be the hero I thought I could, not after what I found out. It would only be a matter of time till somebody looked me up and figured out who my father was, then what? Some ex-HYDRA member comes looking for me? The public loses trust in me to protect them? Your reputation gets damaged when they realize I’m your sister?” I dropped my head down to stare at my lap, “It’s a bad idea. HYDRA doesn’t breed heroes.”

A beat of silence was played before my brother gave his rebuttal. “Look at me,” I dragged my eyes away from my engrossing coffee to him, “I couldn’t give two shits what people think about you being my sister, cause you know what? They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done to try and stop the Flag Smashers, how you saved my life in that warehouse or how you helped keep our family going for five years. They don’t know how stubborn and caring and how much of a hero you are without your powers,” he paused and smirked at me, “And they’re never gonna know that if you don’t show them. What your dad did was horrible, but you’re not the one that did it. If you didn’t let his secret hold you back from being with Bucky, why’re you letting it hold you back from something else you want? You don’t need to be proud of being his daughter, but you need to make peace with it.”

He was right, as if he could ever be anything other than. Sam was counseling me like a sister but also like one of the countless veterans he’d helped wracked with guilt. I didn’t know if I’d ever fully recover from the hurt that came with the revelation, but if I kept on going how I was, I’d be a complete hypocrite. If Bucky could face the victims of his crimes and confess to them, I should’ve been able to deal with my ghosts. All I’d ever wanted to do was help people, to use that mutated gene of mine to help right wrongs. To do that, I needed to do the work. “This is a far cry from a few days ago when you were ready to send me packing,” I retorted. “Well,” Sam chuckled, “You proved me wrong. Fighting with you by my side just felt right, made me wish you could’ve been there for ‘em all.”

The fact that I had shown him that I could keep up with him was astounding, I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen. But with his approval, I’d have to have been an idiot to walk away from it all.

“Good talk,” I smiled, patting his leg while taking one last sip of my coffee before handing it to him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Making peace with it.”

——

The drive from Delacroix to New Orleans had always relaxed me. The disappearance of the deep bayous as the scenery slowly changed to city, the ever present cypress trees, the hour travel time always gave me time to think. Something I was thankful for today especially.

I parked my car outside my destination, making the long trek through the cemetery I’d visited every week as a child. My feet automatically as I passed the neat rows of above ground tombs until I reached where I needed to be.

Keeping a safe distance away, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and took a deep breath. “Hi,” I whispered, greeting my father’s tomb as if I expected it to speak back to me. “Um…I don’t know if you can hear me wherever you are but…there’s some things I need to talk to you about.” My eyes began to water, partially from the wind hitting my face but mostly from the tears that had been waiting to spring free. “Why’d you do it, Dad?” I whispered against the lump in my throat, “I don’t understand how you could ever have been a part of something so destructive. You were the last person I would have ever believed could have done something like this. You were my hero,” I looked down at the ground between us, “I never thought you’d end up being the villain.” I drew a shaky breath and continued, “I watched your guilt over your ‘time in the service’ tear you apart to a point where you thought death was the only way out so…I think it’s safe to assume you felt bad about what you’d done. I watched you every day try to be a good father to me and Mel, you didn’t succeed all the time but you did your best. I know you loved us…” “Somehow,” I dug the heel of my sneaker into my the dirt, “I’m trying to find it in me to forgive you, Dad. For the pain your secret’s brought me, for what your name could do to the rest of my life, for lying…But the one thing I don’t know how to forgive you for is what you did to Bucky,” the tears that I’d finally gotten under control threatened to start again, “Because Dad, he means the world to me and to know that you were behind that pain that’s running his life…It makes me want to hate you. And the saddest part is that I know you would have loved him if you’d ever gotten a chance to meet the real him.”

“The way I see it, I can’t undo the damage you did to the world,” my voice found its strength, “But what you did isn’t going to dictate what I do with my life. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, however I can, that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you wanted me to keep my powers hidden, probably because you didn’t want anyone to find me, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t pay the price for your sins. So I’m gonna fight and I’m gonna try to rewrite our family’s legacy.”

“Anyway, that’s, uh, that’s all I wanted to say,” I took a slow step forward and placed a hand over the stone tomb, “I wish…I wish things would have turned out different.”

With one last gaze upon my father’s final resting place, I left the same way I’d come, for once not having to fake the confidence I was feeling.

——

“Oh, oh, it’s going…” I teased.

“Give it back!” Sam yelled! “It’s going!”

“Y/n!” 

I levitated the shield further away from Sam and slid it across the ground into the boy’s soccer net, AJ and Cass chasing me as I did. I’d only just shown them that their aunt could make stuff fly and we were currently engaged in an intense game of keep away with Sam.

“AJ! Grab it!” I yelled, my nephew hurrying to the net and lifting the shield, stumbling a little as he took off running with it on his arm. I threw up a force field around Sam, who was gaining on him, “Oh no!” Sam was laughing the whole time as he tried to punch his way out of the bubble encasing him. “Go go go!” I cried, watching the boys run off with the shield into the house, dropping the field once they were inside.

“You’re the worst influence on them, you know that right?” Sam chuckled as we slowly made our way towards the front door. 

“Hey, I don’t want them thinking their uncle’s the only cool one in the family,” I replied as we entered the house, pulling out my phone to check the notifications I’d feel vibrating in my back pocket. One was a news alert. “Sam.” “Huh?” I tossed him my phone and hurried through the house till I reached the television, flipping to the news to see the article come to life. The GRC was voting in New York on the Patch Act, a movement that would move twenty million refugees back to their home country.

“Shit,” I mumbled, feeling Sam’s presence behind me. His phone rang to announce a call. “It’s Torres,” he held out the phone and revealed the man’s face. “Sorry this took so long, spare you the technical details, but I finally got results for the scans you asked for and I think we’re onto something,” Torres explained as Sam and I went to look at his computer, displaying a map of Europe that lit up with bright red circles. “When we look back, all these pings, they’re from places just before the Flag Smashers hit. Clearly, they’re all over Europe. Earlier today, we got one from New York. Now, I can’t promise you they’re not using a VPN or masking their location, but…” I’d stopped listening after he’d said ‘New York,’ and turned my attention to the tv, every piece of the puzzle was coming together. Karli wouldn’t be physically able to hold herself back from interfering with the vote. “Great work, Joaquin,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the screen along with me, “We’ll take it from here,” he hung up the call and turned to me, “Time to get to work. Come with me.” He rose from his chair and led me to the coat closet nearest to the front door, opening it up to pull out a large silver case and handing it to me. “I don’t know what’s in it, Bucky just told me to hold onto it until the time came where you’d need it,” Sam stated, “I’m thinking that’s now.” Confusedly, I carried it out and up to my bedroom, placing it on my mattress and trying to figure out how to open it. There was no keyhole, only a bar that hosted a red screen. My finger brushed over it, the action turning it blue and the case automatically released an air lock I didn’t know it had. Waiting a few seconds to make sure nothing popped out, I carefully opened the box to see something I couldn’t have predicted in a million years. Resting on top of the surprise was a note on the nicest stationary I’d ever seen…

You may be able to kick my ass, but I’m never gonna stop trying to protect you.

- Bucky

I breathed a soft laugh, holding the paper in my hand and imagining Bucky hunched over a table, writing the words that were now lodged in my heart. “Sam,” I called out, leaving the case open and rushing across the hall to my brother’s room, “Sam, it’s-“ All words disappeared and all thoughts halted at the sight of him opening up his own case, I didn’t need to see its contents to make an educated guess at what was inside of it. There were a dozen emotions playing out on Sam’s face, wonder, apprehension, excitement, shock…Every one of them valid but none of them coming close to the amount of pure determination in his eyes.

I watched from the doorway, smiling, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

----

A/N: AHHH. Only two chapters left, hope this one lived up to your expectations. Getting your messages and comments and asks have been making my days and I’m so glad people are enjoying this little ride I’m taking us all on. Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged for the remainder of the series!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebos​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​ @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla​ @buckverse​ @living-that-best-life​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20​ @missstef23​ @qhbr2013​ @sebby-stann​ @bluemoon-icecream​ @iixbella​ @lets-love-little-me​ @abitofeverythinggg​ @itsnottilly​ @sltwins​ @mads-weasley​ @hart-failure @natdrunk​ @nctma15​

[synnthamonsugar]

Savathun's Trip to the Last City

Now that we have a clearer picture of what’s going on with Savathun I decided to compile the last year’s worth of her POV lore pieces together.

This is super long, and has spoilers for Path of the Splicer VI / Beneath the Endless Night VII, so I’m putting it under a cut.

Credit to @xivuuarath for reading through this and adding some of their ideas! We talked about more beyond what’s posted here, but this is getting long, so maybe that would be better saved for a part two.

1. Traveler's Chosen (Season of Arrivals)

This piece is told from the POV of a narrator viewing the events through an "ossific den". Based on later lore pieces, I'm certain the narrator is Savathun. Given that ahamkara bones have been compromised by her, and that Shaxx has an ahamkara skull slung up in his station, it’s safe to assume this is Sav’s vantage point.

That said, I don't believe Savathun is observing Shaxx, but rather Zavala, struggling in the wake of the Darkness' encroachment on the system and his colleagues' refusals to evacuate to safety. She seems pleased to find Zavala in a desperate state, and watches as he has a silent conversation with the Traveler. Of note is that she's waiting for it to respond.

He waits for a response and I do as well, tense, curious. [ . . . ] It is no time at all for me, but for him, the hours creep by in silence.

I am ready to choke the voice of his Traveler if it answers him, but there is nothing.

2. Harbinger Mission (Season of the Hunt)

Thank you to @xivuuarath​ for pointing this out since I didn’t include it the first time around. During the Harbinger mission Savathun’s forces are attempting to secure a Shard of the Traveler in the EDZ. Of note is that they aren’t trying to destroy it, but rather siphon the Light from it.

Given that the Shard of the Traveler is what allowed our Guardian to jumpstart their Light when they lost it during the Red War, and is what allowed Uldren Sov to break into the Dreaming City during the events of Forsaken, we can assume it’s useful to lightbearers and mortals alike. Make note of this, because it becomes potentially relevant later on.

2.5. Hawkmoon (Season of the Hunt)

From an unknown vantage point, Savathun watches The Guardian and Crow celebrate their defeat of her Taken at the Shard of the Traveler. Unlike Zavala, she can find no weak points in Crow or the Guardian, only happiness. This awakens something in her.

What is this feeling? I did not ask for it. I do not understand it. I do not want it.

Which gets repeated throughout the lore piece. This is our first glimpse of Savathun having feelings that don't fall into the range of "malevolence" or "plotting". She yearns for her youth with her siblings and the warmth of her old life, and feels burgeoning regret for the people she betrayed.

There is a growing kinship here. Against better judgment.

This is ambiguous enough to be a comment on Crow’s and The Guardian’s relationship, or herself and The Guardian and/or Crow. She's called us her friend before but this might be the first time she's actually had friendly feelings for us.

3. Books of Sorrow: New Verse (Season of the Hunt)

This hasn't actually been posted on Ishtar Collective and I'm too lazy to track down a transcript online, so pardon the source. There's a lot to unpack here.

I walk in a city made of delicate hopes.

Savathun has moved beyond occupying ahamkara bones and is actually physically present.

I hear my name everywhere. [. . .] The sound is nourishment.

Imbaru machine on-line?

I am more than I ever was, and less than I will ever be.

Make note of this line.

I am many and none. I'm a man who sits alone in a cavernous office counting my failures. I'm a woman looking at a silent god. I'm a lost soul on a cold moon. I'm a broken mirror of a man who tries to steer the ship.

Comparing (?) herself to Zavala, Ikora, Eris, and back to Zavala again?

I'm a familiar stranger, flitting between them all, hiding my face.

Again, I think she's speaking literally here.

The people here are small krill dwarfed by the enormity of oblivion.

A neat little comparison of humanity with the krill, who we established in her last appearance she's beginning to feel regret for.

4. Retrofuturist (Season of the Chosen)

Savathun watches a Crucible match, and judges Guardians for being reckless with the gift of immortality. The tone of this piece reinforces the idea she is actually out and about in a corporeal form.

I'm mostly interested in her perspective on Ghosts here. She calls them "A perfect being", and describes their ability to revive the dead as miraculous. She isn't happy that the spectators don't appreciate the gravity of this. Weird sentiment for a hive but ok.

I look up into the blank white face. I feel its Light on my cheeks. It no longer burns me.

The Hive are repelled by the Light. Savathun has grown to tolerate it. Something has changed in her metaphysical composition.

@xivuuarath​ made the excellent observation that she might have been at least partially successful in the Harbinger mission - that she may have secured enough Light to build up an immunity, allowing her to be physically present in the City without being hurt by the Traveler.

Each revival is a choice. I know what to do.

Tuck this away for a moment.

5. Beneath the Endless Night: VII - Ripe (Season of the Splicer)

Okay this whole page is insane so excuse the massive infodump here.

I walk through the City on broken legs. I am conspicuous, but the people here grant me many affordances. I chose this form well.

Confirmation that our girl is actually bumping about in a human-form.

I open my eyes and search the faces of the people around me for familiarity. I did not mean to. I twist inwardly with disgust.

She's sympathizing with the humans of the City. She does not like this, but she is!

When they first reached for me, I reached back in acid mockery, and they opened themselves to me in stupid, naked innocence. I was giddy. My fingers raked their minds. I forced my will through them using only words and met no resistance.

Now I reach as often as they do, and when they reach back, I am thankful. I speak with them. I seek their company. Their companionship.

In case it wasn’t obvious already, Savathun has been running a psy-op on the residents of the Last City, which may explain some of the particularly erratic and troubling behavior from individuals / groups this season.

However the interesting thing is, while Sav used her powers of suggestion to manipulate, the humans unknowingly manipulated her in return. Not through any magic - simply through their kindness.

Savathun is doing more than observing the people of the Last City, she is living with them, getting to know them. Savathun is making friends and it’s literally changing her.

This is not pity, for I know pity. What is this—

A call back to the Hawkmoon lore with her trying to make sense of budding positive feelings.

I clench the gangling black mass that threatens to unspool recklessly from within this shell of flesh. My new arms are too thin, too weak. My new shell still bound with thick mucus. Not yet, I say.

I suspect that the “new shell” she talks about here is not her human-form, but rather something else growing inside it.

A man places his hands on me, on my shoulders, on my back. He asks if I am ill, and he sees my flat eyes, my teeth black with ripeness, and he prepares to scream. I let him keep his mind. I push breath up and through my ruined mouth and speak a simple lie. He stops, smiles, laughs. Shakes his head. He points a finger at me in mocking admonishment before walking away.

A few things to unpack here.

Savathun is physically deteriorating... badly. @xivuuarath pointed out that the body horror of this particular scene mirrors the Emissary’s description of a world with no darkness and creatures that are incapable of death even as they physically fall apart, and if you follow that line of thinking you may infer that she’s forcing herself to live through light alone.

She's approachable enough that some rando would see her in trouble and want to help her, reinforcing the point that she's been wandering about the City and vibing with its residents.

She could have done worse to the good samaritan but chooses not to. She does her mind trick and lets him go about his business. She’s showing mercy... which is something we know the hive absolutely must not do at the risk of being consumed by their worm.

Even here, basted in deception both ample and rich, the Worm cries ravenously. It has grown grotesque, skin taut, overfed, and still it howls for more. It commands me to keep it alive.

I look up, beyond the flickering net of darkness, and see what rests just beyond. Waiting for me. The Worm roars.

NOT DISCONCERTINGLY AMBIGUOUS AT ALL that we don't know if the worm is roaring in terror, pleading or triumph.

TL;DR of what I think is going on.

Savathun came to the City to destabilize it through manipulation, but could not be physically present until she hardened herself to the Light. Camouflaging herself in a human form, she spent time with the residents of the City, and found herself manipulated in return by their kindness. She's resisting the positive emotions, but they're there, which is something we've never seen between hive and humans before. You can't have a crisis of conscience if you don't have a conscience, and Savathun does.

I think Savathun is trying to shed her current form and be reborn in some capacity. I think she's going to try to use the Light to rid herself of the Worm and bootstrap herself into something new. If you'd asked me before reading this lore, I would have insisted that she wanted to become a thought-entity, but the cocoon-like imagery makes me second-guess this assumption.

There are outstanding questions at this point.

Why did she want to prevent Eris and/or The Guardian from communicating with the Darkness in Season of Arrivals? Is there a purpose to the Endless Night beyond eroding willpower and sowing division? Is she trying to save only herself, or attempt to undo the millennia-old injustice she inflicted on her people?

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

The Future, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

Next Excerpt

I’ve posed a lot of questions to you over the course of this book. I’ve provided answers, too, but to different questions. I’ve asked big, open questions, but only answered small, specific ones. In the process of writing, though, I’ve found myself asking one question over and over again. I tell you how we live, and I wonder: Why?

There are ghouls who live wholly apart from human society, even still. Not many, to be fair - I don’t know any personally, but I know a little of their methods. Ghoul communes out on the edge of the wilds, taking travelers on remote roads and lonely highways, vanishing long before anyone knows they were there. Granted, there are only so many of us that can live like that sustainably. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe we just live in human society because it’s the only way to survive.

But I think there’s more to it than that. I think, whatever our differences, that we ghouls recognize that we are more like humans than not. I think, in spite of the genetic twist of fate that condemns us to live off you, what we want is to live with you.

{Editing Note: Too preachy? Or just preachy enough?}

I have spent this book laying out all I can about us as people; the good and the bad, that which I love and that which I hate. I’ve laid myself bare in the hopes that you will look and see our common humanity. And that, maybe, if enough of us are willing to set aside our preconceived notions and try to find a way to coexist with each other, the awful system we currently live under can be replaced.

I asked you a question in the very first chapter, and it’s almost time for you to answer. Are we monsters or not?

I don’t have anything left to tell you. I’ve made my case, but I’ve asked some of the members of my household if there’s anything else they want you to know. I’ve recorded their statements exactly as they said them below.

From Scarlet:

“It’s a simple thing we want, but somehow it’s also the most complicated and ephemeral goal imaginable. What is peace? What is coexistence? I could name some of the signs of it, or some of its outcomes. But would that truly help us attain it? Can aiming at a shadow help reach the thing that casts it?

“Maybe peace is a promise, one we make to each other; a promise to try to understand, to accommodate where we can and trust that the other is doing the same. Peace is an action, an ongoing reaffirmation that we want the best for each other, not just ourselves. I don’t think it’s a commitment many of us are willing to make yet, but maybe we can start with a smaller commitment. Maybe we can start by trying to trust and understand each other, to build the foundation on which this kind of promise can be built.

“Of course, this is all very abstract and philosophical, and concrete changes also need concrete actions. But I trust that the lovely author has plenty of ideas on that front. You trusted her enough to come this far, so trust her to go a little farther. Trust her enough to seek a better future.”

From Scorpio:

“Jesus Christ, no pressure or anything, right? Just address all of humanity? You realize that I only make impassioned speeches in my fanfics, right? This isn’t even kinda the same!

“Fine. Look, all my best experiences with humans have been from behind a pane of glass. I mean literally - no one online knows I’m a ghoul. That’s kinda the great leveler, isn’t it? Behind the anonymity of a username or a gamer tag or a fucking Vtuber avatar, we don’t know if there’s a ghoul or a human, do we? I guess that separation does take the whole ‘eating people’ thing out of the equation, since, when we come together online, the humans aren’t worried about us taking a bite out of them.

“But it proves it’s possible, right? If we can just find a way to take away that fear, then there aren’t any real fundamental differences between us. That’s the reason I’m so much better online than in person. In person I’m always so fucking stressed out about whether my small talk answers sound like something a normal human would say that I just wind up seeming like the weirdest guy you’ll ever meet. But online, where no one expects that kind of shit, I just feel like I’m me, and everyone else is who they are, and I’m not thinking about whether they’re a human or a ghoul.

“Basically, what I mean is… What do I mean, actually? This got away from me a bit, can I do another take?”

From Kestrel:

“I don’t like talking about myself. I like letting other people talk about themselves, and I like talking to them about other things sometimes. But I’ll try, I guess.

“When I was younger, I knew a lot of desperate people. I was desperate too. But with a bunch of desperate ghouls and humans shoved in one place, we didn’t kill each other like you might think. I mean, we did, but not always and not only. There were humans I looked out for when I could, if I found something they could eat. And there were humans who knew what I was and didn’t hate me for it. They’d tell me when the exterminators were prowling, or they’d point out real shitbags for me, so I could feel a little better about killing to eat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk anymore. Either you get it or you don’t. Sorry.”

{Editing Note: Still need a statement from Spatha. Maybe Yaga knows where she’s been the past couple days.}

There you have it. That’s all. Ponder it. Take your time; I’ll still be here when you get back.

I don’t expect things to change quickly, if at all. I don’t believe I’ll live to see a future where ghouls live openly among humans. Most likely, exterminators will get me long before then. But I have a vision for a future where no more ghouls are taken in their homes, no more humans are murdered and eaten on the streets, and no more children are tortured to death in front of their families.

If that’s a future you believe in, turn the page.

{Editing Note: I’m freaking out. Is this too much too suddenly? Is this too hard of a pivot from the rest of the book? Does it seem sappy and naive? Is it going to be enough?}

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[adventuresofarainbowcrip]

Staying home alone in the summer : the good, the weird and of course the kitty!

Posted on July 27th 2022 by Nirvana

I’ve been at my apartment alone a lot the past two weeks. My brother has been at his mom’s house helping her and his two teenage sisters because there was recently an unexpected death in their family. My brother and I are not biologically related but we were raised together for parts of our childhood and teen years and consider each other to be siblings. 

Anyway, since he has been at his mom’s for two stretches of 4-5 days, I have been here alone for the longest time yet. Up until this point, I’d probably stayed here maybe 10 nights, but they were a night or two here and there and not for a few months. 

I am really proud of myself for staying here on my own and dealing with stress at first. I won’t get into detail for privacy and because it’s sad but after finding out about that death, my brother had to leave right away and I was here alone with my cat Ellie. That night I felt anxious about being alone after knowing about the death and also nervous because I was supposed to go overnight to the coast (2 hrs away) with some of my friends and mentors. I went to bed, slept really badly and when I woke up, I felt awful. 

I ended up deciding to stay home instead of going to the coast because in that emotional and physical place I was in, I didn’t feel like I could additionally handle being away from home. The mean voice in my head was mad at me about that, because it was supposed to be an exposure therapy experience but I reminded myself that just because I didn’t do it this time doesn’t mean I won’t have other opportunities. 

 Being away from home and sleeping away from home (and away from my moms) is something that still makes me nervous despite the fact that I now live in my own apartment. It makes sense in a way though. This apartment is now my home and a place where I feel safe and comfortable. My brother ended up being at his mom’s for a few days and during that time, I realized that I was, in fact, getting a different kind of exposure. He’s come back and gone away again, so I’ve had lots of time alone here recently.  

Here are some of the difficult things that I have found about being home alone in the summer for longer stretches of time :

1. It can get lonely at times. I grew up in a communal house with many different roommates, and even after that when it was just my family, there was always *someone* home. I am used to hearing the sounds of someone else around. When my brother is here, we aren’t constantly spending time together but just knowing he’s here is nice. I’d never really learned to enjoy being alone until moving here. My parents also have let me know that if I’m feeling really lonely to reach out and they might be able to come over. One of my moms offered to hang out and sleep over if I wanted sometime. I was feeling really lonely this morning but didn’t want to bother them. My mom told me tonight that I really can reach out and at least check in. She’s planning to stop by tomorrow before work to spend a bit of time with me and Ellie. 

I have been having more trouble sleeping because of the heat recently (last night I was up until 4 AM) and the night felt extra long, maybe in part because it was just me and my cat. I have still spent time with my parents on the weekend and with my BCM Buddies online but it’s not the same. This experience has confirmed what I thought before I moved out, which is that I would not want to live totally alone. I would want a roommate or my brother, someone. Living alone long-term would not be good for me.

2. It’s been hot, I’ve had lower energy and some anxiety about the heat and going out. I realized today that I do this every once in a while, it just happens to be summer right now. But I get nervous about not feeling good or worried that I don’t have the energy for plans I made. Then I cancel them and spend time resting (in this case, watching lots of YouTube in bed) but then I have to get back out into the world. 

For example, I was supposed to go out with a friend and my mentor to a waterfall on Monday but I did not feel great and worried because we are in a mini heat wave where I live. So I canceled that, and canceled going out today as well. I guess my body and mind just needs time sometimes to fold into itself and for my world to get smaller, so I can go back out again?

Some awesome things about this experience :

1. Before I moved out, I could not have imagined myself staying here alone for this long. The first time I slept alone here was the first time I’d slept alone anywhere. I am very proud of this accomplishment.

2. I now have a kitty, which is way better than no kitty. Having Ellie here is wonderful. She reminds me that I am not completely alone. Taking care of her reminds me to take good care of myself. We check on each other and give each other love. 

3. I have proven to myself yet again that I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. This has given me an independence boost that I didn’t quite expect. This has given me an opportunity to be alone with myself and my thoughts which is sometimes one thing I’m afraid of. Sometimes I don’t feel like I do this fully because I always have music or a podcast or a video on but whatever. I’ll get there one day.

4.  I have still been in touch with friends and my mentors at this time as I normally would, which has helped offset the loneliness some. It is important for me to have social connections especially in a situation like this. Even if it’s not in person (a phone call or video chat) I appreciate that very much. 

Until next time,

Nirvana

[thespoonisvictory]

“Techno and Wilbur make Cave Better” Key Conversations

Hi, so I’m doing a big Pogtopida Wilbur analysis rn, mainly of this stream, and I basically decided to transcribe all major events, conversations, and quotes for the masses, to reference during said analysis. 

This was such a good stream to look at, and there’s some really interesting stuff to analyze, as Wilbur interacts with almost every portion of the story and develops his character in a really interesting way. I definitely recommend watching the stream if you want to understand Wilbur’s character, or at least read this. If you like to write meta, have fun with this oh boy.

Major quotes and full conversations are bolded for clarity, timestamps are added, and names are shortened when writing dialogue. If the character is not tagged Wilbur is the one speaking (W = Wilbur, TU = Tubbo, F = Fundy, S = Schlatt, and TO = Tommy). 

“Hey Techno. I’m in a better mood today. I’m in a better- do you know I’m- I’m over fucking losing Manburg y’know.” 11.08

“The revolution is coming. the only difference is I’m not gonna be sad while doing it. I’m gonna be happy, while revolting.” 11.20

“Hey Techno, do you wanna see how over Manburg I am, dude? How over L’Manburg I am? You ready for this? *reveals Pogtopia skin*” 11.25

“That filthy, dirty, coat. I didn’t wash it once, I’ll be honest with you, Technoblade.” 11.40

*Techno shows him the farm, Wilbur is concerned but a little frightened by the amount of time he’s spent on this lol*

“First, I think, I wanna make this place look nicer, cause I won’t be able to work in this cavern if it’s just like, if it’s natural generation, y’know?” 14.33

*they join vc with tubbo*

“Tubbo’s one of the few people I trust, Technoblade. Like, I’m still figuring you out right now, but, at the moment, Tubbo seems to be pretty on the ball. He seems pretty keen on the whole spying thing.” 16.13

“See the thing is, Tubster, can I call you Tubster? Cool, cool. See the thing is Tubbony, I need help, today. Tubbo, do you know anything about super smelters.” 16.53

*they meet up in Manburg to go to Pogtopia, Wilbur doesn’t feel safe coming too close*

“Tubbo. You’ve lost the revolutionary gear. I’m so proud of you man, I’m so proud of you. We’ve finally moved on. It’s the next part!” 19.32

*Wilbur is visibly upset by Tubbo wearing the suit, despite it being a “disguise” and him saying Schlatt’s name, however*

“I was sleeping last night, before I changed my clothes, and I thought to myself, I thought to myself Tubbo you’ve done so much for our great nation.”20.17

“Have you heard of the Sunk Cost Fallacy?” *Wilbur explains the fallacy* “So, in that logic, I think you are physically incapable of giving up. I think you’re physcially incapable of giving up L’manburg. Because you’ve put in so much effort! You’ve put in so much work, y’know. So that’s why...” 22.12

*Wilbur shows Tubbo Pogtopia*

“Pogtopia isn’t a nation, as much as Tommy seems to think it is. We’re a commune, now. Don’t call me Mr President anymore, Tubbo, you’ve gotta call me, uh, Wilbs... In the commune, we’re all equal, we’re all comrades. We’re all equal” 24.24

*Wilbur compares them to Russian revolutionaries*

“Except with this Russian revolution, we’re not all gonna die. And also the nation we’re gonna make afterwards will not fail.” (oh god I’m sad) 25.15

*they talk about the super smelter, wilbur and tubbo are wholesome :(*

W: “Welcome to the commune, welcome to Pogtopia. Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking Wilbur- Wilbur-”

TU: “I think it looks lovely”

W: “oh,  see I thought you were gonna say ‘Wilbur Wilbur this looks like shit’, and I was gonna say ‘yes Tubbo, yes it does look shit’”

TU: “I mean, you obviously- I don’t think you’ve seem Manburg lately.”

Wilbur’s tone becomes serious, maybe angry “I haven’t seen Manburg lately. Why do you rub this in.”

TU: “What- no- I didn’t mean it like that-”

W: “No- I heard you man-”

TU: “No, it’s really gone quite in the opposite direction-”

Wilbur’s tone cheers up a bit. “Oh- it’s bad? It looks bad?

TU: “Yeah”

W: “Oh, that’s brilliant, that’s great news, Tubbo, thank you, I-, that means that when we go and fix it- let me show you...” 27.40

*Wilbur wants to add more people to Pogtopia, tells Techno to get more food*

*Wilbur talks about possibly exporting “Pogtopia Potatoes” to L’manburg, and poisoning them. This is never brought up again though and isn’t treated seriously*

“I wanna make sure it looks nice for when the gang gets on.” 31.35

*Schlatt joins the game, and joins vc. Wilbur is immediately panicked, telling him to make an alibi*

“How’s running L’man-Manburg going for you?” “It’s going great.” “Yeah, it’s a lovely place isn’t it, nice situation.” 34.30

*this continues a bit, Wilbur is very obviously not a big fan of this conversation. Schlatt talks about demolishing things. Wilbur’s tone is soft and somber*

W: “Oh- What are you demolishing.”

S: “The Elton John house.”

W: “Oh- that was-”

S: “I reckon we’ll take the rocket down as well, and maybe uh-”

W: “oh- ok”

S:“what is this thing, whad’you call this thing, Tubbo?”

T: “This is that cAHmrvan van”

W: *quietly* “the camARvan”

S: “The cAHmarvan?”

W: *quietly* “The camARvan” 

S: “That’s a stupid name, I reckon we put a big apartment building right over it.” 

*Wilbur moves away from his desk in shock, the conversation continues, Wilbur is shocked by the dress code being suits as Schlatt insults the revolutionary uniforms, leaves vc*

“Techno- I fucking hate him, Technoblade. He’s the fucking worst, you get it, you get it don’t you? He’s everything- he’s everything I cannot stand.” 37.32

*Wilbur talks about dismantling the oppressive government, and quotes Spongebob. They chat for bit, both misunderstanding anarchy dear god*

“One thing I really want to make sure of, cause as much as I’m still not entirely trustful of Tubbo, because he said it was a disguise... Tubbo said that he was wearing the suit as a disguise, right. Turns out that’s true. Turns out it’s the dresscode. So, Tubbo lied to me, which is not the best start for our political relationship, but y’know it’s cool, at least he’s actually online today, unlike- unlike one of my right hand men.”40.26

“Whilst I’m not entirely trustful of Tubbo, I would- still don’t wanna see him get hurt by Schlatt” 41.19

*Wilbur rejoins Schlatt’s vc. He’s still really bitter about being removed from Manburg. The whole Schlatt has diamonds in his furnace conversation happens. Schlatt asks where Niki lives, and Wilbur immediately leaves vc*

“Techno we need to get to the docks, this is your first mission under us, please comrade, please. armor. armor. We need to get to Manburg quickly, this isn’t a drill, this is first thing. We’re not gonna attack we’re just gonna watch, and then see what happens.”45.06

*Techno is mining, and Wilbur says he’ll get there on his own time before leaving. Wilbur arrives in Manburg and is disgusted by the apartment buildings, venturing in while Techno has no clue where Manburg is*

*Wilbur goes into Niki’s bakery*  “I think Schlatt’s just mugged Niki” 49.14

“Which is why I need you here, Technoblade. You’re kinda my last resort.”  50.00

*Wilbur looks over Manburg and watches Niki, Fundy, Schlatt, and Tubbo interact. They join Niki’s vc, Techno isn’t keeping hidden well and Wilbur is stressed. Wilbur is trying to balance both of them and making all the calls.*

W: “Niki I’ve gotta go, Niki I’ve gotta go, I promise- I- look- if- we’re in too much of a hot position right now to take in everyone from every sort of like person we need into our new cave. So you’re gonna have to hold out in Manburg a bit longer. Is that ok?”

N: “Of course. I will.”

W: “Mm k.”

N: “Take care, Wil.”

W: “Thank you.” 

W is obviously distraught at leaving her behind, but leaves vc. 55.05

Techno isn’t in vc, and Wilbur just softly goes “Comrade Technoblade? Is he- I’m on my own. I’m on my own.” 55.38

*Tommy joins the game and Techno joins vc* “I thought he was gone, no it’s Tommy. I didn’t think he’d be coming on, I didn’t think he’d- oh thank god!”

*they join vc with Tubbo Punz and Schlatt. Techno offers to “initiate order Kennedy” and Wilbur freaks out*

*Fundy joins vc*

S: “Fundy- Fundy- I y’know I wasn’t gonna do this so early into my reign, but I think you should have a promotion. I mean this is just such a good idea, this is just such a good idea.”

F: “You’re being very generous here Schlatt.”

W panics. “Don’t give him promotions, he’s too young, he doesn’t understand, he’s- he needs to learn more. No- he needs to learn more, I should know he’s my son.”

S: “I’m promoting him.”

F: “Wilbur, Imma need you to shut up for a second.”

W: “Don’t you speak like that to me, Fundy. Don’t forget where you came from,  Fundy.”

S: “What’s the relationship between you and Wilbur, Fundy?”

F: *sigh* “Wilbur, he’s just a founder, and I was born here, and nothing else. It’s literally everything there is to is to it.”

W, softly and sadly: “You know that’s not-”

Schlatt interrupts: “See, it’s so great to have natural-born citizens of Manburg, taking the country direction into their own hands. I mean, I really over this purple stripe, instead of that ugly blue one.”

*Wilbur has hand over his mouth in disbelief and sadness

F: “I must agree.”

*F and S continue to talk*

W, seemingly on the verge of tears: “I don’t know who you are anymore, Fundy, I don’t know who you are anymore.” he leaves the vc and joins Tommy. 

“I couldn’t be there anymore.”  1.01.36

*Immediately, Tommy tries to talk to him, while Wilbur is obviously angry and upset. Tommy is waiting for his command to burn down the flag.”

TO:“I’m stood here, by the flag with a flint and steel, Wilbur.”

W, panicked. “Tommy control yourself, control yourself, it’s not worth it.”

TO: “Do I take my shot?”

W: “Tommy do not take your shot.”

TO: “Wilbur he disrespected you!”

W, even more panicked: “He disrespected me, yes but we’ve talked about this Tommy. Tommy, if we cast the first stone-”

TO: “Wilbur, I wanna do it Wilbur.”

*now Tubbo shows up, holding a book*

W: “Tubbo, what is that book?”

TO: “I wanna do it!”

TU: “It’s, um, it’s nothing much, it’s not really anything worth worrying about.”

W, softly: “What is it. Why are you holding it.”

TU: “It’s- Schlatt has given me- It’s the papers Schlatt made me. Yeah, it’s what he, yeah.”

W: “Give it to me.”

TU: “Are you sure?”

TO at the same time: “Wilbur tell me now Fundy’s coming up. Do I light the fires of  victory, of independence?”

*W is reading the book MANBURG TO-DO*

TU: “Uh- I’m gonna need that back”

TO at the same time: I could do with a clear yes or no, this isn’t a- as much as silence is-

W interrupts, suddenly angry: “Tommy burn that place to the ground. Burn that place to the ground and try to as many people trapped in it as possible.”

TO laughs

TU: “I’m gonna need that book back- oh- oo.”

*W throws the book back*

TO: “Wilbur do I kill your son?”

W, no longer distracted: “Keep him alive, Tommy.”

TO: “Again- I could do, I’m actually-”

W: “Tommy, we’re comrades here.”

TO: “Wilbur, take one look at Manburg, cause it ain’t no more!”

W: “Tubbo, take me to Manburg.”

TU: “Ok.”

TO: “I could kill Schlatt and Big Q right now.”

W: “Keep them alive, we need them alive Tommy.”

TO: “Can I just shoot em once?”

W, exasperated: “If you want.”

TO: “Yeah, I did. It’s more of my own self fulfillment.”

W: *sighs* “We’ve cast the first stone. Our little ravine is now, it’s now in a difficult spot.” 1.03.30

*Wilbur meets Tubbo at Manburg and they head back to Pogtopia*

TO: “The flags gone, and your son is corrupt.”

W: “I know he is, and I don’t need reminding of that, Tommy.” 1.06.30

*Schlatt joins vc and tells Tommy to leave Manburg, and leaves again. Wilbur tells Tommy again not to burn down the forest, and is legitimately upset at the idea. He says it’s the thing they’re fighting against. Techno rejoins vc*

“Tommy, if you don’t fix the mistake you’ve made here, I don’t know if you’re the best fit for Pogtopia.” 1.10.46

*Wilbur asks Tubbo and Techno if they’ve checked the forest, but they’re both busy*

W: “Alright well I’ll go and looking for the fucking forest, I guess. I have to do everything around here.”

*Tubbo and Techno protest.*

W: “No no no, it’s fine you two are doing much harder work than I am.” 1.12.37

*Tubbo and Wilbur talk about how Quackity isn’t happy under Schlatt, how he’s protesting a lot of Schlatt’s measures.*

“He’s a man who I thought, really cared about his nation, but, hey y’know, I’ve been wrong before.” 1.13.55

*the conversation shifts to Fundy, and Wilbur recounts what Fundy said, clearly upset. Tubbo is shocked by this*

“It’s ok, it’s ok, y’know, cause, it’s fine! I- y’know, bonds are formed in blood, not family blood, the other blood, the blood where you stab shit. Yeah, that’s where bonds are formed.”1.14.55

*Tubbo, Techno, and Wilbur chat more, Schlatt joins vc for a bit. Tubbo and Wilbur keep up the bit that Tubbo is loyal to Schlatt until he leaves. Tubbo says explained his absence to Schlatt*

“Tubbo, you’re- see with Technoblade, right, I have no doubt that Technoblade is on my side, right. Cause with Technoblade, with Technoblade, right, I know that he wants blood, and he wants war. Cause that’s how Technoblade works y’know. He just wants to fight and he wants to kill bad guys, right. Yeah, look at him, he a little libertarian- little anarchist, right. So here’s what I’m saying, right: you however- little, I can’t tell if you’re cozying up to Schlatt to help spy, or if you’re cozying up to Schlatt because you quite like how he treats you. I mean look, Tubbo, I’ll be the first one to say it, I didn’t always treat you the best, on L’Manburg, and I know I didn’t, I- I- I was somewhat of a distant ruler- I pretty much only- don’t agree that fucking excitedly, man- look I wasn’t the best ruler I know I wasn’t. Well I think I was a good ruler, but I, I- Tubbo I don’t know if you are just prefering his rule over mine, and I feel like I gotta win you over.”

TU seems to disagree, but says ok.

TU: “Well I’m making this farm, I wouldn’t be putting in this much time if I wasn’t.”

W: No I know, I know, but that’s probably what’d you be saying to Schlatt as well if you were doing work for him.”

TU: “That is- that is very- yeah that is very true, actually.” 1.25.07

*Tubbo says his excuse is that he was pregnant in the name of being transparent. They discuss plans for the farm, and the stream ends*

Wilbur, raiding Niki: “Now, Niki is currently probably the last person who I know is on our side,, who I know is definitely on our side right now. And she, basically, is just sort of trapped in Manburg, cause I can’t get her out, cause we’ve got Tubbo out that’s fine, but I can’t get Niki out for a while. She’s being taxed and she’s being watched very closely by Schlatt. More closely than Tubbo, weirdly, and Schlatt is just being a horrible person to her as you know. So I’m gonna need you to go over there and I’m gonna need you to give her some love. “ <3 1.31.52

[rjhpandapaws]

Deviations of Life

Prologue: A Bullet for Your Efforts

//Temporary character death

When he opened his eyes he was still in his stasis pod. There was another RK800 that was active, there was no reason for him to be online. The pod around him began to fade into a garden, his mind palace. This shouldn’t be active either, something was wrong.

Amanda greeted him with a nod and a stiff smile, “You must be confused.”

“One unit is already active. There is no reason for my being activated as well.” He responded.

“Your predecessor has tragically failed in his mission. It is your job to bring him in by any means necessary.” Amanda continued, “Your memory upload is almost complete, search them and find the best course of action. If you happen to fail as well we will be forced to disassemble you and the Deviants will continue to run loose.”

He nodded, “The Lieutenant would be the best way of finding it. He would know its plans.”

“You have a plan then, good.” She smiled, and it felt good to have his approval, “Do not fail us or you will be next.”

With that the garden began to fall away and RK800-60 was left on his own. He had a Lieutenant to find and a rogue android to take down. He stepped out of the stasis pod and made his way to street level to call a cab. He would be able to go over 54′s memories on the way and come up with a workable ruse to get to his predecessor.

He got into the cab, but in the Lieutenant’s address and began to filter through 54′s memories to find the best course of action. It was an odd thing, to watch the slow change from Deviant Hunter to Deviant. It seemed to have been the Lieutenant’s doing, he seemed to have seen something in 54 that simply wasn’t there. He would have to be careful. He knew that getting too close to this detective could be dangerous.

54 was at CyberLife tower, it had plans to do something there but it had locked those memories away. He was going to have to lie, and pretty convincingly at that. Failure wasn’t an option for him. The cab came to a stop outside of 115 Michigan Drive and RK800-60 took a moment to go over his plan before he stepped out. He needed Hank to cooperate at least as far as the cab, after that he was expendable.

He schooled his expression into one of moderate distress, placed a couple of missed calls on Hank’s phone for authenticity, and then raised his hand to knock on the door. Hank answered right away and Rk800-60 could smell the whiskey on him from where he stood. The mix of intoxication and false distress should make this easy enough.

“Hank, I called and you didn’t answer.” He said with faux fear in his voice, “I ran into some trouble and need your help.”

Hank’s face went through a trip of expressions, “Alright, I don’t know how much help I’ll be though.”

He stepped aside so Hank could make his way to the cab and then followed. He scanned Hank and found his side arm, if he was intoxicated enough it would be easy. He would have to get closer in order to learn what the Lieutenant’s BAC was, and since he didn’t have all of the information about Hank and 54′s relationship so he wasn’t sure how much of a risk that would be. he was comfortable enough to have followed him without proof of distress, but that could easily be due to the years he spent in this profession. It would be safe to wait until they were in the elevator then. There would be fewer options for escape then.

“Connor, you are thinking too loudly. Is everything alright?” Hank asked as he placed a hand on RK800-60′s shoulder, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

RK800-60 hesitated for a moment, deflecting the question might come across as suspicious, but he only had access to 54′s memories up until it had deviated. He didn’t know what would actually be wrong, “It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about the best way to do this.”

It was the truth and it seemed to satisfy Hank as well. The Lieutenant gave him a slow nod. Apparently he was used to 54 cutting himself off to plan things out. RK800-60 couldn’t tell if that was because they communicated well or if the Lieutenant had resigned himself to his role.

They arrived at CyberLife tower and RK800-60 got out first and headed toward the building. He couldn’t fail at this, he would be taken apart of he did, and if that happened their whole line would be deemed a failure. They would be replaced and it would all be 54′s fault. That model would not be walking out of the tower. RK800-60 would not be another failure. He would be the one to stop Deviancy, the one to survive.

Something in RK800-60′s code had shaken loose, it wasn’t enough to count as an instability, but something had started. Beneath the surface something had changed and it wouldn’t be stopped.

They entered the building cautiously, and the Lieutenant turned out to be the one to suggest that they take the elevator. That was one less step for him which was good. The easier this went the better. Killing Hank wasn’t entirely necessary, but if the Lieutenant got in the way there would be no hesitation on his part. A human sympathetic to Deviants would only get in the way.

As soon as the doors to the elevator closed RK800-60 made his move. Hank was more difficult to subdue than he had predicted, but once he had the gun things went more smoothly. The click of the safety was all it took for Hank to go stock still. There would be no winning and he knew that,

“You aren’t Connor.” The Lieutenant finally said once his mind had caught up to what was happening to him.

“No Lieutenant.” He said flatly, “I am not. I am the one that is going to put an end to this. Starting with you if I must.”

“He won’t let you.” Hank spat, “The revolution is already underway. You won’t be able to stop them all.”

“I will have its human at gunpoint, it will let me do as I please.” He responded with confidence, “I don’t need to stop them all, just this one.”

“Then what?” Hank pressed, “You’ll be shut down. With no revolution you will have no purpose.”

“I will have completed my mission.” He retorted, but something else in his code shook loose, and this time he had felt it. Something was wrong, “I will be the model that was a success.”

“Will you really?” Hank smirked.

RK800-60 raised the gun into the detective’s line of sight, “I would use caution Lieutenant, I am what dictates your survival.”

“You wouldn’t kill me in here.” Hank deflected, “You need me.”

“Alive, yes, but not necessarily conscious. So if you wish to see your Connor again you would be wise to hold your tongue.” He watched as the Lieutenant set his jaw stubbornly but complied. Connor clearly meant enough to him that seeing it again before it was killed was significant. Perhaps they were close after all. He could work with this.

He grabbed Hank and lead him out into the sublevel when the elevator doors opened. 54 was reaching for one of the androids that was in stasis. He was going to try and spread Deviancy.

“I wouldn’t 54.” He called into the room, “If you touch any of those androids I will put an end to your Lieutenant.”

“I’m sorry Con.” Hank said as 54 turned to face them, “This bastard looks just like you.”

54 faced them fully. His eyes traveled to the Lieutenant first scanning him for injuries before they moved on to RK800-60. 54′s eyes narrowed and he straightened up his posture some.

“Do you really think you can move faster than a bullet Connor?” RK800-60 pressed as he nudged at Hank’s temple with the pistol, “Is this human really important enough for you to risk?”

54 hesitated, as all Deviants did. They had something to lose. The illusion of feelings the errors to their code allowed them to believe they had found, and the false lives they tried to build on top of them. It gave them pause, a pause RK800-60 didn’t have to take. It was a pause that kept him distracted though, too busy attempting to predict 54′s movements that he miscalculated the variable that was one Lieutenant Anderson.

He hadn’t been holding on to the Lieutenant tight enough. The man threw his weight back knocking RK800-60 off balance. 54 chose to make his move then, charging at RK800-60 and shoving him away from the Lieutenant. RK800-60 was distantly aware of the gun falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. He was more concerned with subduing the Deviant. He wasn’t going to be the one to die here.

They were trying to get at each other. RK800-60 was using his preconstructions, trying to use reason to predict its moves. It seemed more like 54′s movements were fueled by anger, it was taking shots that RK800-60 never would have risked. They had about a minute of struggling for the upper hand before the heard the sound of the pistol’s safety clicking off.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Hank snapped as they separated, “One of you is my partner, and one of you is a lying sack of shit. It’s time to figure out which is which.”

RK800-60 and 54 stood keeping distance between them and staring at Hank. RK800-60 was running preconstructions. There was a small chance he could get to Hank before he fired the gun, but it was a low enough percentage that he didn’t move. He would probably be able to beat hank at his own game. The Lieutenant was only human after all. They weren’t all that smart most of the time.

He had not only failed, but he had nearly Deviated. As he had been promised, with Deviancy came death. Connor would get his life and RK800-60 would get nothing. His story ended here.

“What is the name of my dog.” Hank asked moving the gun between the two of them.

“Sumo.” RK800-60 said cutting off 54′s similar response.

“Hank, he has my memory, I’m the real Connor.” 54 placated, trying his best to reason with Hank.

The Lieutenant seemed to waver for a moment, “What was the name of my son?”

RK800-60 found himself searching through all of the information he had access to about Hank, but he came away with nothing. Not in 54′s memories, and not in the few records CyberLife had given him access to. This had to be a trick question, there was no way 54 would know the answer if he didn’t.

“His name was Cole.” 54 said inching closer to the Lieutenant, “It wasn’t your fault, your car slid on black ice and there was no human surgeon available. He died under the hands of an android and that’s why you hate us.”

RK800-60 watched 54 disarm the Lieutenant with just his words and felt whatever had been trying to shake itself loose of his code finally break free. He had the moments it took Hank to process the words of 54 to come to terms with the fact that this was where his life would end. He got to see the start of the software instability notification before he heard the gun go off. There was a moment of fear and then nothing.

[everybodyscupoftea]

this is the life

ole miss rafe x reader

you and your boyfriend deal with your ~futures~

literally no one asked for this lol, i’m sorry

(warnings: cursing)

Your animal and dairy sciences seminar had a report due that you’d stayed up very late making last minute edits to because you were stressed it was really bad. The next morning was brutal. Not only was in an 8 a.m. lecture, but your coffee machine was out and you overslept, barely giving yourself enough time to get to class before the professor checked attendance.

You slid into your seat, out of breath, just as started scanning the seating chart for attendance. The boy who sits next to you turned to ask, “Library was backed up this morning?”

“What?” you asked, halfway paying attention, still scrambling to get your notebook out.

“Since you’re running late, I’m assuming it’s because the library was busy when you went to print your report.”

Your stomach dropped and you swore, “Fuck. I forgot to print it. Fucking fuck. I submitted it online but I forgot we needed to hand him a physical copy too. Oh god I can’t afford to fail this class.” You were getting worked up and the boy was starting to look more and more like he regretted talking to you in the first place.

“I mean he’s pretty chill, so I’m sure if you explain he’ll let you bring it by his office later.”

The boy had a point, but you were already too far gone. For the rest of the class, you were unfocused, and if someone asked you what he lectured on, you’d have no clue, so preoccupied with rehearsing how you were going to beg him for an extension. You only had one other class, and you’d definitely be able to print it out and run it to him between them, but that was depending on if he let you.

Just as class was ending, your phone vibrated in your hoodie pocket, and you checked it, immediately calmed at seeing a text from your boyfriend. Rafe sent Can’t wait to see you this weekend and whatever had a grip on your chest loosened enough for you to take a full breath for the first time since waking up.

After speaking to your professor and his reassurance that you didn’t really need to worry much about the written report, that it was just to ensure everyone had it turned in prior to class, you left, much happier, but the exhaustion hitting you straight in the gut.

Thankfully, all you had left that day was a communication elective and then to drive to Rafe’s apartment in Oxford. He’d convinced you to make the trip because he wanted to show you around the place he’d called home for four years after leaving behind his “hometown trauma.” His words.

Your class flew by, people were giving speeches and you’d given yours Wednesday, so you sat there mindlessly, half asleep, until she dismissed the class for the weekend. Stopping back by your apartment to pick up your overnight bag, you decided to last minute check your PO Box, it had been a while. To your shock, you actually had mail, and when you saw the return address, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.

There was about a two-hour drive to Rafe’s apartment from Starkville, and you had the option of opening the letter containing either the best news or the worst news of your life before the drive or at Rafe’s apartment. Part of you wanted to know then, but a stronger part of you wanted to be with Rafe so he could comfort you if necessary.

Instead of making a decision, you felt your tired brain could not, you called Rafe. He answered before the second ring and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I see that receptionist job taught you some useful skills.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Answering my calls fast, that’s good because my time is money.”

Rafe sighed, “Can I help you?”

“Someone’s mad. But, yes, should I open the letter from the vet school now or wait until I get to Oxford.”

You heard some shuffling around before he answered, “You think you can wait? I actually have something to tell you too.”

“Yeah, um, sure,” you were a little worried, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. We just need to talk.”

“Right, talk, are you sure everything’s good?”

“Yeah, stop worrying. Just drive on over.”

You had been excited to go visit, but after that phone call you wanted to go back to bed. With a deep sigh, you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and slumped backward. Blinking away the spots, you buckled up, pit in your stomach, and drove to your favorite coffee shop in Starkville. If shit was going to go down in Oxford you were going to have your comfort drink.

StrangeBrew’s drive-thru was packed and you tapped your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as you waited to order your blueberry cobbler cold brew with soy milk. Right as the barista handed you the to-go cup, your phone vibrated and Rafe had sent drive safe!! <3. The fuck did that mean in the context of your earlier phone conversation?!

The drive to Oxford was boring as hell. You’d made it before, a band you liked had played there one night, and you and some friends had made the reluctant trip to see them. Turning on your podcast, you focused on nothing but the drive, pushing aside relationship doubts and the growing anxiety about the letter sitting in your passenger seat.

You called Rafe when you got close, and he was waiting outside his building when you finally found a visitor’s spot. He jogged over to grab your overnight bag and bent down to give you a quick kiss, before greeting you with, “Hey, baby, how was the drive?”

“Boring as fuck, nothing new.”

“Went smoothly?”

“About as smooth as possible. I’ve had to pee for the last like 40 minutes though, so it’d be great if I could do that now.”

He laughed and turned to walk to his building, motioning for you to follow him. You did, scampering a little to keep up with his long strides, and he unlocked a door on the first floor, holding it open for you, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Rafe was sitting on the couch when you made it back out to the living room, and you finally took a good look at him. His laptop was on the coffee table and he was wearing a pair of Ole Miss sweats, a worn-out t-shirt, and a pair of glasses you were unaware he needed.

“Take a picture,” he interrupted your train of thought and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up, Cameron. Now, tell me what you want to talk about so I can open my letter.”

“No, open your letter first and then we’ll talk.”

You weren’t sure why he was so insistent or why your heart rate tripled, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t the coffee. With shaking hands, you held up the letter from the MSU Vet School. All of your undergrad work came down to that letter, whether you’d have to take a gap year and try to find work to apply again or whether you could move forward in your career path.

Rafe watched on eagerly as you carefully tore it open and started reading. Eyes jumping across the page, unable to focus, you barely made out, Congratulations and We welcome you and We look forward to seeing you next fall.

With a gasp, you launched yourself at an unprepared Rafe and latched on, arms wrapped around his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly and asked, gently, “Good news?”

“I’m going to Vet School,” you whispered, voice cracking in the middle of your sentence.

“Fucking right you are, my little Rockstar.”

Your face heated up and you buried it in the crook of his neck, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Only to come crashing back down a few seconds later as you remembered Rafe wanted to talk. Pulling back slowly, you asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

His face lit up and he leaned forward, hanging on to you so he didn’t accidentally dump you onto the floor, and grabbed his laptop. Clicking to his email, he showed you the message he had pulled up from Mississippi State University Department of History Admissions.

“So, you know I’ve been interested in teaching,” he started, “and I’m debating whether I’d like to teach college or not.”

“Yeah, last we talked, you were leaning toward college professor, right?”

“Right. Well, I applied to a few schools that had a PhD program I was interested in, and I heard back from my top choice.”

Your mind was racing, still not connecting the dots, until he motioned at his laptop. Looking back down, you skimmed the email, telling him that he’d been accepted into MSU’s PhD in European History program and gasped, turning back to him in excitement, “No way?!”

“Way,” he told you, wide grin on his face.

Jaw dropped, your mind raced to put together a coherent thought, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The program is good, this isn’t a new thought, but MSU obviously jumped up my preference list to the top after we got together.”

“Fuckin whipped,” you teased and he tilted your chin down to kiss you.

Pulling away he brushed some of your hair back, “Only for you.”

As he leaned in again, you were the one to pull back, “Wait, we have to celebrate!”

Rafe groaned, “No, let me kiss you.”

“No! I want food, I spent the entire ride thinking I was going to get dumped when I got here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“We need to talk,” you quoted, “that’s one scary fucking sentence, Cameron.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I just wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well you did.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again and pulled back to add, “You really think I’d make you drive all the way here, just to break up with you. I’m wounded you think that lowly of me.”

“You are an asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched your cheek gently, “Be nice to me, I’m sacrificing my dignity and lowering myself to Mississippi State’s standards.”

Blinking a few times in surprise at his sudden switch, you told him back, “Fuck off, I’m sure you were last choice as soon as they saw where you got your undergrad degree.”

Without saying anything else, he kissed you again, gripping behind your knees and shifting so your back was on the couch. As he lowered himself down on top of you, you decided that food could wait. You had your future to celebrate.

[mx-barnes]

Soulmate au Pt.8

Summary: When you turn 18 you get the name of a song on your wrist. That is the song you and your soulmate share. It is also how you can communicate with them.

Word Count: 822

Warnings: making out, I guess kinda commitment talk sorta, fluff, insecure Bucky. I think that’s it.

A/n: The quote at the end I found online it didn’t have a name attached to it if you know who/where it is from lmk. Sorry, this is so short and this is the end. Maybe I might make an epilogue.

Chapter 7 Masterlist

You had rushed out of his apartment so quickly his thoughts immediately went to you regretted every second of last night. How could that be possible you were made for each other?

Bucky didn’t trust much but he was quickly falling in love with you which scared him to no end. Dr.Raynor was going to have a hay day. The man she claimed didn’t have much of social life (besides Yori) was falling in love.

You were different he felt like he could open up to you about his past but he was also scared to hurt you. You were this beautiful person. Everything thing about you screamed beautiful. Your skin tone complimented your eyes perfectly. Your smile lit up a room which then would bring a small smile from him. You were kind, generous, smart, and funny. He knew this for the time he spent with you in the dream realm but now that he had you he never wanted to let go.

<~>

Work was stressful. Stark Industries always moved fast but today was just extra stressful. You wanted to be at home with Bucky. You and him and finally met and now you had to work. It was stupid.

After what felt like forever your shift had ended and you were able to back home. But you didn’t want to go home you want to head over to a Bucky’s apartment. You wanted to go over to his apartment and sit and watch an old cheesy movie with him. You wanted to sit and cuddle with him for as long as he’d let you. So that’s what you did.

You didn’t really mean to drive to Bucky’s apartment. Technically you did but not at the same time. You didn’t want to seem clingy but getting kidnapped and then almost dying has some effect on your attachment level.

<~>

Bucky had been sitting in his living room watching tv even he heard his doorbell ring. He walked up to it looked through the peephole that’s when he saw you. He immediately opened the door.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to come back after this morning.”

“No. Oh god no James I love you. I just had work and it’s at Stark Industries so you know they never stopped especially after Tony’s death. I am sorry can I stay here tonight. I totally get it if yo-“ you rambled

“I would love nothing more than you to stay the night,” Bucky affirmed.

“Really?” You question feeling flush all of the sudden.

“Yeah really.” Opening up his door more to you and instead of walking through it you tackle him, catching him off guard and making him fall flat onto the ground.

You lightly kiss him. He reciprocates but when you pull away he pulls you back in for another mind-blowing kiss. You two sort of roll so you are now on your back. Distantly you hear the door slam shut as Bucky starts grounding his hips into yours. You moan slightly allowing Bucky to slip his tongue into your mouth. Finally pulling back after what feels like hours to your lungs but in reality, was probably only a couple of minutes.

You wanted more you craved more than just a physical relationship with him. You had had physical relationships before and they never seemed to work out. You wanted this to work. “Bucky let’s go on a date.”

“What?”

“A date. I mean like you are me out to your favorite restaurant. While I dress up real pretty, you pick me up at seven o clock sharp. Maybe bring me flowers open the car door for me. We eat but I barely touch anything hoping not to embarrass myself. Then you drive me back to my house lead me up to the doorstep say ‘this was nice. I’ll call you.’ We part ways not before you leave without a kiss. Maybe I invite you inside for tea or something. All I know is I want a date. A single date with you. I want the stolen kisses I want the romance that authors wrote about in books. I want the movie romance I want to sweep off my feet like they did in the 30s. I just want you,” you ramble on.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I can’t just have another physical-wait yes. Just like that yes.”

“Just like that yes.”

You almost fainted. Maybe this would work maybe your heart wouldn’t be crushed by the man you had longed to meet. Maybe you had been able to love and not fear the worst.

What was that quote “In one lifetime you will love many times but one love will burn your soul forever.”

Bucky was that love and you know that. You could feel in your soul from the very beginning it was a long ride to get here but know you’re here and you couldn’t be happier.

Taglist:

@oceanmermaidwitch @navs-bhat

[arazialotis]

Long Distance

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 1700

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been separated during the holidays due to a string of hunts but Dean has a thought to make the distance seem not so far apart.

Warnings: Language, General SPN spooky stuff

This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Nights came early this time of year, each day growing darker a little earlier. It was hard to fight off the fatigue that crept in every passing moment. Even harder so with Dean out of town on another string of hunts. You sat in the picture window curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a warm cup of tea and a new book. Though you had a corner lamp turned on, the Christmas lights outside bounced off the white snow, illuminating the world and keeping the dark at bay. 

Your phone had occasionally been buzzing as Dean updated you on his progress in a new town. You did what you could to not worry, to have faith, but each day he was gone you needed distractions to keep your mind off it. And of course, communication. The longer he went without an update, the more your stomach turned. 

Though you were entranced with the novel, methodically flipping pages and on the edge of your seat, as soon as the phone sounded, you threw the book down only focusing on him. 

You answered with a pant of excitement. “Hey babe.” 

Dean’s smile practically shined through the receiver. “Evenin’ Y/N. Man it's good to hear your voice.” 

“Yours too.” You echoed setting your tea down on the ledge as you started pacing the floor. “How’s the first day been?”

“Ah, you know, just getting settled and the feel for things. Wish I had your mind here to sort things out but this has been a long stretch, it’s starting to drag. It was good for you to stay home.” He paused waiting for a reply. “This’ll be the last one, promise.” 

“Don’t say that.” You chided knowing fully well he easily broke these promises. “You are doing good work. If you need to keep going, that’s alright. Just promise me you’ll come home eventually.” “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“And besides.” You sighed. “I’m still here virtually, put me together the case details tonight and I’ll scour over them.”

Dean’s blush heated up the air around you as he shamefully admitted. “I already sent them to Sam.” 

“Ugh! What? God Da…” Dean’s chuckle cut you off. You rubbed your brow reminding yourself it wasn’t a competition. “I want to help too.” You whined. 

“Okay, okay.” His voice faded. “I’m sending them now.” 

You looked at your phone waiting for the email to come through. A few moments passed and it eventually did. He had sent over a few news articles, pdfs, and a word doc of his own notes. 

“Hmmm… it’s definitely a werewolf.” You teased. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to get stumped by an oversized rabid poodle.” 

“I’ll shoot you some real ideas by tomorrow at the latest.”

 “Don’t feel rushed, I got some pretty good leads to follow up on tomorrow.” He assured. “Alright, enough work talk. What about you? How was Thanksgiving?” 

“I mean, it wasn’t the same without you and everyone else. But uh, I still tried to make the most of it. Brussels, beans, wild rice, potatoes…” You listed. “Mashed?” Dean interrupted. 

“Pfft. Of course. Cranberries. Oh, I did a cornish hen cause like, what the fuck am I going to do with a whole turkey? I already have enough leftovers to last me ‘til Christmas. Tell me you had something more than deli meat turkey.”

“Don’t worry about me babe.” He lightly chuckled. “Denny’s got me covered.” 

“Dean.” You scolded.

“Pie? Please tell me you had pie.” He begged. 

“No way I’m having pie without you.”  

“But.. But… Thanksgiving.” Dean pouted. 

You giggled at his adorable antics. “There’s one waiting in the freezer for when you get back.” “Yes! Cherry?” He pleaded. 

“Of course…” You giggled together until a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, hold on a sec.” 

“What is it?” Dean’s voice grew concerned. He heard the door open, a soft thank you, and the door closing before a bit of rustling. “Oh, nothing.” You fiddled with the box and the phone. “Just looks like a package for you.” Dean licked his lips with anticipation. “Why don’t you go ahead and open it for me?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you wanted to. “Really?” 

“I’m sure.” 

You grabbed a kitchen knife to hack away at the tape. Dean sat down on the motel bed anxiously waiting for you to find what was inside. 

“It’s um… it’s.” You pulled it out further inspecting it. “It’s a lamp?” 

Dean grinned ear to ear waiting for you to figure it out. “A long distance lamp? What?” “I found it online. You have one and I have one.” He explained. “I felt bad the last hunt with the bad reception. My lamp will light up when you touch it and vice versa.” 

“What?” You squealed. 

“Yeah. It’s an early Christmas gift.” Your heart melted.  “Go plug it in.” He ordered before you could respond. 

“Dean…” His thoughtfulness nearly brought you to tears. “Go!” He repeated before you got too sappy. 

After a few minutes of him guiding you through the set up, you were ready to test it out. “Okay, ready?” He asked, his hand hovering over the lamp on his end. 

“Yes.” You sat on the floor staring at the dark lamp. “Nothings happening.” You sighed. “Oh, wait!” It was dim at first but slowly turned into a green glow reminding you of his eyes. “Oh my gosh.”

“Your turn.” You pressed the top of yours sending him a warm purple glow. You could hear his smile over the phone. 

“See, now we can talk to each other even without the phones.” 

“Dean. This is… it’s… thank you.” Was all you could muster to say. “I’ll keep it by my bed so I can say good night and good morning.” “Me too sweetheart.” Dean agreed. “And in case anything happens to my phone or I get stuck in another dead area, you’ll know not to worry.”

The two of you spent another good hour talking; tentatively setting up holiday plans, explaining the unexpected twist in your book, and thrilling him with all the juicy details of exactly what you were going to do to him when he finally did make it home. You read a few more pages before finally calling it a night. Tucked into a bundle of blankets, you reached to your nightstand sending him a final thought of the night. A few moments later came the dim green glow. Though it was just a light, it made you feel as though he was there, his arms wrapped around you making your heart warm. 

When Dean awoke the next morning, the lamp next to him was already glowing purple. He smiled, typical that you would be the first to rise. After a yawn and deep stretch, he sent the thought back to you before going to freshen up and shower. The hot water and steam soothed his sore muscles and the tension he held in his shoulders if only for a brief minute. Towel wrapped around his waist and clean shaven, he came back out to get dressed in a suit for the day only to find the light had not faded. With another chuckle he assumed you must have been on the same schedule and sent another touch back before heading out for the day. 

From the morning, he was in a sprint; talking with the local police department, interviewing witnesses, consoling family members. Dutifully, he kept you updated on his progress hoping to hear back from you soon on any thoughts yet you were quiet. He wondered if he had mixed up your work schedule again. Having gone nonstop throughout the day, he opted for an early dinner back at the hotel room. 

Entering back to the room with his Chinese takeout, he immediately noticed the lamp was still on. He set down his food on the table and pulled out his phone. 

‘The lamp doesn’t need to fully replace the phones.’ He texted you, adding a little laughing emoji hoping you wouldn’t be offended by him calling out your silence today. 

He popped open his laptop and dug into the Mongolian beef hoping to review any ideas you had come up with. But you hadn’t emailed him like you said. It was still early enough in the day, and especially if you had worked, maybe hadn’t had time to get around to it. He pulled up Sam’s email instead, reviewing notes and potential leads. 

An hour had passed and the light still glowed purple. Thinking it must be broken, Dean meandered over to the plug resetting it. The only other explanation would be your hand on top of it consistently which didn’t make any sense. The lamp powered back up and momentarily was dark before the purple hue came through again. 

“This is weird.” Dean muttered to himself. 

He walked back over to the table and grabbed his phone and dialed your number. After two rings, it answered. 

Dean chuckled, thankful to finally have gotten you. “Either these things are malfunctioning or you must really miss me.” He heard a deep breath from the other side of the line. 

“Y/N?” His voice dropped. “Sweetheart, are you there?” A sinister voice crackled on the other end. “It’s been a long time Dean.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Panic and anger rose to his chest. It was a voice he could never forget. “Alastair.” 

“Now I was hoping to find you home when I stopped by but this pretty little lady said you were out on business.” Alastair's voice delightfully slithered. 

His jaw clenched. “If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I swear to God…” Dean spat. 

Amusement rose into laughter. “What makes you assume I could harm such a delicate creature. Her neck as easy to snap as a sparrow's."

“You better pray that's not what I find when I get back.” Dean threatened already furiously packing his bag. 

“Its not her I want, it’s you.” Alastair clarified. “But I guess that all depends on how long you take getting back home Dean. I might become bored.” 

-----

TAGS:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love​

[headbandsandflats]

I don’t even know what to say.  Not that anyone was waiting for me to say anything, or that anything more needs to be said - I’ve seen others put this far more eloquently than I will - but I feel like I need to get some of these emotions out (even though writing it out and posting it makes it feel even more real and more awful).

My love for this book, this movie, this fandom has been unprecedented.  I’ve always loved fiction, always loved movies and books, always loved losing myself in them.  But the feelings this story brought out of me were like nothing before or since.  I finished the book on a Saturday night, a few days before seeing the movie for the first time.  It was winter, but until I stepped outside that evening - running to get an unnecessary coffee, just to shake myself out of my post-book haze - I could have sworn it was a summer’s night in the 80s.  (I know how maudlin that sounds, but I genuinely mean it.)  I was bereft upon finishing it.  I felt so deeply entwined with these characters, with their emotions, with their story.  I went to see the movie for the first time with one of my best friends a few days later and we were transported.  We walked out of the theater into a cold January night, onto a crowded subway car, and felt so deeply the loss of a summer in the beautiful Italian countryside that was never even ours.  I went on to see it six more times in theaters during it’s traditional run (twice with other people, four times on my own) - it became a kind of joke with those who knew me best, the way New York was eventually going to have stop showing it (after about SIX MONTHS), for my own good, since I was unable to resist.  But I’d never felt that way before.  There were movies that I’d loved, devoured, thought about after watching them.  But nothing had ever been a siren’s call like this.  I’d check the movie listings and when I saw that it was still playing, and knew I had the free time, it felt like I was unable to resist going back again and again.  It was the first movie I saw even close to this many times.  (And I’d see it on at least another three occasions, at special showings and Q&As.)  It was the first movie I ever went to by myself.  (Again, and again, and again.  And again.)  I can still remember the theaters, remember the showings (like the one in the village that I went to on my own at around midnight, not getting home until around 3 in the morning, still floating on that warm, Crema air), remember the anticipation in the pit of my stomach every time it started.  It’s like it put me under a spell, one that went unbroken for years.  I don’t know if I’ll ever know exactly what resonated so much.  Maybe it’s just that it filled up an emptiness that had started to develop in me by that time.  Maybe it was a glimpse into a world of emotions I hadn’t ever really known myself.  My copy of the book, signed by several and something I don’t dare look at at this moment, is highlighted throughout, something I hadn’t felt compelled to do in years, maybe since before I studied literature in college.  I read every review, watched every interview, tried to absorb every mention of or allusion to it anywhere.  It was too much and never enough and that never really went away.

With this deep obsession, came my first foray into real fandom.  I’d read fic for my favorite pairings since I first discovered it, as a way-too-young fan of Buffy in elementary school.  I’d joined tumblr during my Gossip Girl years to ogle over beautiful gifsets of beautiful people and gorgeous tributes to my favorite pairing.  But it wasn’t until this fandom that I ever actually interacted with people.  Took the chance when I saw a link to a Discord (something I’d never even heard of before) and became part of a community.  Interacted with people who wrote stories I loved and made gifs I looked at over and over, but also people who just became friends.  We got to know each other, and each other’s lives.  I’d never had something like this before - people who became friends over a shared obsession, this thing we were all nuts for, together - and it was intoxicating.  People who never got tired of talking about this movie and these people I never got tired of talking about?  It was like a dream.  Some of these people I chatted with online.  Some I met in real life.  (A huge, crazy first for me - I grew up in the time of internet stranger danger, after all.)  We talked endlessly about everything to do with this fandom over brunches and dinners and drinks.  We talked about other things too.  We laughed and cried and spent evenings at each other’s apartments and took loud car rides home together from the city.  I did things, and experienced moments, with them that I never would have without them.  It’s this, all of this, that I hope I’ll be able to remember fondly some day.  (And writing it all out, in this moment, is making me feel slightly lighter and brighter about it all, in this moment - which is unexpected, but lovely.)

This fandom has held some of my highest highs and lowest lows over the last couple of years.  I made friends (as an adult, with cool people - something I never could have predicted), I lost friends (something more expected, but still, a devastating blow, especially during a pandemic), reached something close to friendship with some of them again (an unsteady but nice surprise).  I had experiences I never would have imagined.  And I depended on it way too much over these last three years, as my own personal issues increased, something I was aware of, but not aware of the extent of until this last week or so.

I don’t know how to move past this in this moment.  I’m devastated.  I’m wrecked.  I’ve been stick to my stomach.  I haven’t slept.  I’ve overslept.  I’ve cried (not much, not enough probably, but even a few tears is a somewhat shocking amount for me).  My mental health is, quite simply, not what it used to be.  That’s a problem that is separate from this, that started before any of this came into my life.  But it’s tied to all of this in an uncomfortable way, and it’s making this emptiness, this sadness, this hopelessness feel unbearable.  And there’s a lot of shame thrown into all of this as well - shame for being so deep into and obsessed with a fandom, shame for being so deeply affected by something and some people who have no actual bearing on my real life (or shouldn’t, anyway).  Of anything I could have tried to predict, having this comfort movie/book/actor/fandom destroyed so ultimately was beyond my wildest nightmares.  I thought the spell might be broken on my end at some point, that eventually it wouldn’t mean as much to me, but now I’m afraid I’m doomed to feel too much, in every way, in terrible ways, forever.  I can only hope in this moment that I will move past this all one day.  That it won’t hang over me forever.  That I’ll, at the very least, be able to separate the good from the bad.  That some things will remain unforgettable, but in a good way again.

Thank you to everyone I ever interacted with in this fandom.  Thank you to the mutuals who brightened my day.  The friends who became such a part of my life.  The creators who filled up the good days and especially the bad days with their beautiful works.  I won’t be deleting at the moment, and anyone who sees this is always free to reach out and chat, as long as this blog is around (and via other social media of mine if you have it).  I’m heartbroken, and seeing tumblrs disappear, seeing all of the posts similar to this one - it all makes it so much more real and awful.  But there were good times and good things and good people.  And I hope with everything in me, that people can appreciate the goodness that came from this (and that I can one day too).