#fic: destructive interference

[atlasarcana]

old memes about destructive interference that i saved to my phone

[syntheticavenger]

better off

Thank you to @geminixevans-stan for giving me the cheerleading I needed to get this finished.

Senator! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: World building so nothing really, unless you count heavy angst and mentions of a break up. If you follow my work, I’ve sprinkled in an Easter egg in here from another fic.

Summary | Keeping busy is something you know how to do well, especially after the publicized break up with your ex. As his political fame rises, so does the need for you to focus on yourself and keeping your walls up for self-preservation. If only it was that simple.

The ringing in his ears has finally stopped, President Wilson’s State of the Union speech bringing people to their feet, the applause thundering for more than a few minutes. 

Sam Wilson hasn’t always been known to be a rousing orator - years as a VA counselor meant he led with empathic firmness - but the determination in his voice, two years after the battle with former President Ross had nearly brought the world to the brink of destruction, President Wilson’s speech would be forever cemented in history.

“Senator Barnes!” A woman shouts, a microphone thrust in his face as she turns on her megawatt smile like she’s turned on some internal switch. “President Wilson’s speech is being hailed as a tremendous achievement, bringing multiple party lines together. As a longtime friend to President Wilson, I am sure you’re very proud of him tonight.”

”Very,” Bucky agrees, seeing Jules, the head of his staff, tap her watch. “President Wilson did not hold back on reminding the public of the things he had promised once he got into office and how he has delivered these promises to the great people of the United States and our allies and friends.”

Jules mouths the time as he pivots to leave.

”Thank you Senator, always a pleasure!”

The flashes of the cameras and more reporters yelling for him for another sound bite only makes his steps quicken to the waiting car. Normally, he would stop for another interview but time is of the essence - he has a speech he will be delivering to his constituents in less than six hours. 

“You alright?” Jules asks, looking up from her phone to inspect her boss. “We can move the speech back by a day, you know. You’ll get two hours of sleep if you’re lucky.”

”Two hours is a start.”

He can see her running her teeth over her lower lip, which means she wants to say more, even as her eyes go back to her phone.

”Jules.”

Her head snaps to attention at the mention of her name.

”Hmm?”

”What’s wrong?”

”Uh, nothing, I…” she trails off. “I sent her flowers. It’s her birthday today.”

Immediately he goes silent, his head sinking back into the headrest while Jules lets out a sad sigh. 

“It doesn’t have your name on it if that’s what you’re worried about,” she says quickly, pushing her black rimmed glasses back up her nose. “You didn’t ask this time but I figured you were busy with everything else going on so, I -”

”I didn’t forget. It’s been almost a year and a half.”

”I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to interfere, I just know that you used to…” she stops, shaking her head as if to remind herself to drop the subject. “I’ll shut up.”

The car ride is quiet for a moment - almost too quiet to where he can hear the soft pull of the leather when he adjusts in his seat.

He knows exactly what day it is. He woke up this morning wondering what you would be doing, how a year prior he woke you up to breakfast in bed, a myriad of gifts placed around the room for you to open. You never wanted anything fancy, just a small celebration and he had done just that.

How it had all gone wrong was his fault.

”I’m sorry,” comes Jules’ reply after a moment. 

“I’m not mad, Jules,” Bucky replies. “Thank you for sending her flowers. For doing what I wanted to do but didn’t.”

”Why didn’t you?”

”She stopped taking my phone calls a year ago. I got the hint.”

”It wasn’t your finest moment,” Jules counters with a nod. “I think you had noble intentions.”

He lets out a snort as the car turns down the street, the airport in full view.

”Noble intentions? That usually means -“

”You fucked it up. She was good for you, Bucky. Remember President Barber? Married his VP! Now he’s the governor of Massachusetts and deliriously happy. You have to allow yourself to be happy, your constituents are great and the ones that aren’t? You give ‘em a big middle finger and move on.”

Jules is pleased with her little speech, nodding at the end of it as Bucky turns to look at her.

”You think she would survive these stories about my past? I barely survived.”

Jules pokes him in the shoulder.

”And look at you now,” she clarifies. “A whole public servant, Senator Barnes.”

-

Deep pink roses greet you when you open the door to your office, wrapped in a happy birthday sash in a sage green.

Your favorite color.

These same ones were delivered to your apartment two days ago, the ribbon a light pink. A gift from Jules, you know that much. Ever since she had seen you wear a pink dress to a dinner, instead of your monochromatic go-tos, she’d decided that pink was your favorite color.

It was a nice gesture, of course, acknowledging the occasion.

Birthdays are a thing of the past now, something you force yourself to think of as any other day, 

You have nowhere to put them, wondering if you can get a vase today in between your packed schedule. Running a business isn’t for the weak but it’s kept you busy and that’s all you can hope for these days.

Your attention goes back to the roses, a card peeking out from it that you hadn’t seen before. It could be anyone but you know it isn’t.

In fact, the minute you slip the silver letter opener under the envelope flap, you’re aware of the writing. It isn’t wordy but succinct and to the point, your eyes settling on his penmanship.

Happy birthday, beautiful. I miss you every day.

You’ve been strong.

Even when he was ending things, wiping your tears as he apologized over and over for hurting you - for hurting both of you - over a decision that he thought was best, you had been strong enough to know that you’d have to process the hurt, the feeling of betrayal that you believed you had been enough. 

Strong meant living the shared apartment you’d had for two years, mailing the key and garage opener certified mail as you licked your wounds, leaving a job you loved because you knew you would run into him and that was nearly as devastating a thought as the breakup itself. You’d cursed his name into your pillow, hot tears sinking into the satin fabric before you woke each day, a little stronger than the last.

You could be stronger, you tell yourself, shoving the card and envelope into a drawer when a knock at your door brings you back to center. After a moment, a head pokes inside, your assistant Rea cocking her head at the sight of you. Trying to fix your expression, you’re aware that you’ve let your emotions get the better of you, straightening your shoulders as Rea walks up to your desk.

”Goddamn it,” Rea mutters, pushing the door open as you try to sit up straight. “He did it again, didn’t he?”

She inspects them carefully, picking them up to inhale the scent.

”He’s good at this,” she continues, voiced filled with praise before it takes on a cautionary tone. “Are you gonna give in?”

You’re quick to deny her, shoving the card into the drawer.

”Give into what? Flowers for my birthday don’t mean anything.”

”It’s a nice gesture. Expensive too. I know French roses when I see them. ”

”Do you want them?” you ask, seeing her face go into shock at your offer.

”What?” Rea asks. “They’re for your birthday.”

”I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore, remember? They’re all yours.”

”I mean, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Rea says, pulling the bouquet toward her. “ I couldn’t impose… but if you insist.”

She doesn’t move from near your desk, intently watching you for a moment.

“What?” you ask, giving her a look.

“Happy birthday, boss. You may not believe in celebrating things anymore but I’m grateful for you every day.”

Rea gives you a smile before she plucks the bouquet off of the desk.

”And don’t stay late tonight because I know you,” she says in finality, closing the door behind her.

-

Jules watches as Bucky paces in his hotel suite, his tie hanging over his neck as he practices his notes. His support of a veterans bill means five rows dedicated to those who have served, the glint of his metal hand peeking out from his white shirt. He’s deep in thought, the minutes ticking by until he has to finish getting ready.

A notification on her phone makes her glance down.

Thank you. 

She knows better than to share this news, as small as it may seem. Her little confession about sending you flowers had turned into an uncomfortable silence, him diving headfirst into work. Great for his constituents and bad for her personal life. Focusing on his work meant more interviews, more town halls and more canvassing for up and coming electoral candidates.

It’s what he doesn’t say, the way he checks his phone to see if there are any signs of communication before placing it face down on the table, to the way he not so casually glances at your now deleted social media to see if you resurfaced.

Jules knows how quickly you had swept your presence off of social media, quitting your job at the law firm to pursue your own career. Whispers around your former social circles had said you had disappeared to start your own bid for office, a ploy to get back at Bucky for breaking up with you.

She’d known better.

If anything, removing all traces of your presence had been devastating, especially with how quickly you had done it.

Neither of you had gotten the closure you needed, him so quick to end things when the media began to poke around your personal life, cameras popping up when you least expected them and how his name was now appearing in fashion magazines, rather than the political heavyweight papers. He’d given you an out and you’d taken it and then some, leaving him reeling with a sense of loss that still continues to be felt, even by the way he’s written in a clause that his personal life is completely off limits when it comes to interviews.

And you, quick to accept your fate, ceasing all communication with him. The bad timing of his speaking engagements had meant he had left days after, leaving you to simply mail what was left of your relationship.

You hadn’t been there to see the absolute despair in his eyes, how fast his walls had come up when she had asked him if he needed time.

He checks his phone again, shaking his head as if to get himself out his thoughts, quickly fixing his tie in the mirror.

“Ten minutes,” Jules says in a warning, another notification coming through.

Jules? Tell him thank you as well.

She hides her smile at the idea of him sending you flowers after all.

[harzilla]

Honestly can I admit I've been sitting on writing a full God!Yuu fic? I keep trying to turn game mechanics into God skills. I just wanna throw this out there. Sorta a ficlet? It's mostly my kind of stream of thoughts.

Imagine the guys are absolutely clueless that the "magicless" human is a god. Like a trickster god and whatever little thing that follows their amusement and they notice a weird little blip of magic one day and decides to follow where it leads.

they immediately shift into a vessel that fits the world and when Grim busts open the coffin the god realizes it's his magic they noticed. Oh? Interesting....

The dark mirror can't read their soul because the mirror is tuned into the souls of those born in Twisted Wonderland. The body? Yes. Their actual being? No. So for the first time the mirror calls a colorless empty soul since it's creation.

The god soon realizes they're in a school of humanoid mages and they can sense the different flows of magic from everybody. Allowing them to be able easily analyze what kind of magic it is, ties into the world/nature(aero, water, fire) and emotions(void/light)the self.

Our God realizes that things could get boring fast if they push their powers around and they decide to handicap themselves by only using intentional power to prevent somebody from dying. They're not particularly interested in seeing a bunch of kids die. Mortal lives are fleeting but full of fascinating things.

It turns out that Twisted Wonderland is very interesting if you're willing to see where things lead. But, they can still interfere if they do it within the limitations of a magicless mortal, right?

They also can also pick up on the emotions of mortals and the drips of blot they see are literal buildup of negative emotions starting to manifest in a physical world, very nasty little thing. But only they can see it at this point. They stick by Ace and Deuce because they know that the two will lead them to Riddle. The only one dripping blot at this point within their line of sense. They work with Ace and Deuce, so it's only natural they follow because they helped make the tart, right? They know they can only allow the overblot to happen because they limited their powers but the rancid magic wafting off Riddle makes them unhappy. Diving into Riddle's mind they gently pull through his memories and pull the threads of his thoughts in the right direction. Weakening the link to the overblot and allows Riddle's own mind to push forward and ask the question he needed to hear. This Allows Riddle to hit a breakthrough the overwhelmingly destructive negative feelings. It severes the link to the overblot completely, killing the overblot and allowing Riddle to live.

Riddle awakens and now our God slips back into the magicless human act. They know something is off and they're going to follow along because they want to see just what is causing the world to flow in the direction it's going.

The sticker system is them giving the guys blessing. Our God likes interesting things and the entire rewardable cast is their kind of fun. These stickers kind of create a pavlova effect where they feel positive energy/feelings when around the prefect. The emotions trigger the blessings they received that it boosts their magic. Thus the higher the friendship the higher the magic output

Honey? Candies? All the treats? More blessings. Increased lessons is the god blessing them with more lessons by tweaking the flow of time. They can't perceive the change unless the god wants them to.

They enjoy learning new things about everybody and seeing their progress. They like studying the different dynamics between everybody and are always curious about what's running through their head. A bunch of hormonal teenagers with way to much power at their fingertips always attracts trouble. But also they find them all endearing in their own weird ways.

Of course our god sometimes creates it's own trouble, oh my it seems the tsums felt the gods power somehow and they showed up at specifically Ramshackle? oh my how odd? The God permits it because, well it's interesting and the tsums are harmless if not as chaotic as their counterparts. Just the right kind of mischief they're looking for. Of course maybe our god might have felt a tiny bit bored, saw this adorable magical creatures by staring out into the infinite void of space, magic, and existence and was all "Visit this world please? 🥺"

I just have so many ideas for this I honestly feel like I should try to make a long fic of this idea. But I just want you to think about the absolute crisis all of them go through when they're revealed to be a god that has just let the guys do everything that has happened throughout the entire plot and events because they're amused?

But oh what fun they can have now! Now that they can mess with the guys openly. Only the ones they permit can tell anything is happening.

Pay backs fun now isn't it?

[russianspy24]

Of Warriors and Worlds Fic on AO3

Sooo. New fic. Yep. My attention span is fickle... I guess that's because I'm a sagittarius. When I become obsessed with something... SIGH

I've been struck by the movie Thunderbolts like many. I love the MCU. I also love the DCEU. I've always had a character that was the female version of Superman stuck in my mind (many many years). However, Lyra is edgier. Less apple pie. Seeing Thunderbolts finally solidified my resolve to write her and pair her with Bucky. Though this is a crossover, it will be set in the MCU.

It's a slow burn romance because I do those best, and I want to honor the canon characters. Because I knew I couldn't just jump into Thunderbolts without establishing a backstory for Lyra, this story begins in the middle of Falcon and the Winter Soldier and will then slide into the Thunderbolts timeline.

My chapters are long because I prefer to read long chapters in fics. So it'll take a few chapters to get to the Thunderbolts, but I promise it's worth it. This story will focus more on Bucky and Lyra. But Yelena and co. won't just be side characters. I love their little team.

So, if you're curious, give this story a chance! Thank you!

If you hate the concept, no problem. Just scroll on. The poster took me hours in photoshop, and I am quite proud of it.

Summary and preview of chapter 1 below:

Summary: There are worlds upon worlds, realities upon realities, each with its own heroes, struggles, and tales of love and loss. Some destinies are written in the stars, others forged through choices. This story bridges two Earths—not bound by fate but by the will to endure.

In one world, James Buchanan Barnes seeks redemption after lifetimes of war. Haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, he navigates life after the Blip, pulled into battles—both political and personal—as he reclaims his identity. In another, Lyra Jor-El, Superwoman, a warrior born of strength and loss, falls through a rift and becomes a stranger on a new Earth, fighting to belong while holding onto who she is.

Together, they face not just external threats but their own haunted pasts and fragile hopes. Bucky and Lyra find themselves at the heart of a new team—born not of trust, but of necessity. Even as they face the Void, they must confront their own battles and a love that could bridge two worlds.

This is a story of warriors and worlds, of love forged in conflict, and of choosing purpose when good and evil blur. Watch closely, for it’s not the world you come from that defines you. It’s the world you choose to fight for.

Preview:

I am the Watcher. I observe all that transpires across the multiverse, from the birth of worlds to their inevitable demise. My purpose is to witness, never to interfere. Yet, on occasion, the line between observation and intervention blurs, driven not by duty but by the pulse of fate itself.

This story begins with a rift—a tear in the fabric of realities. It did not form by chance, nor by mere happenstance. I opened it, there above the forest in Germany. On the other side was the warrior Lyra Jor-El—Superwoman to some, a fierce protector to all—slowly dying. Her strength was unparalleled, her resolve unbreakable, but even she could not withstand the poison coursing through her veins—kryptonite, a cruel weapon wielded by Alexandra Luthor.

Lyra had fought valiantly, even as her body betrayed her. The world around her blurred, each heartbeat fainter than the last. Had I done nothing, her story would have ended there, her light snuffed out by one who thrived on destruction. But fate whispered to me, a flicker of possibility threading through the cosmic weave. One life to save another. One Earth altered to preserve another.

I tore the veil between realities, guiding Lyra through the rift to a world where she would not merely survive but thrive. Where her path would intertwine with that of another lost soul, a soldier with a weary heart and a burden too heavy to bear. James Buchanan Barnes stood on the precipice of change, not yet knowing that fate would soon deliver a woman who would challenge his solitude and ignite something long thought buried within him.

I have seen countless stories unfold, but this one—this convergence of worlds, of souls—was meant to be. Not merely for the survival of one hero, but for the healing of two. I did not act lightly, nor without consequence. But I chose to believe that some battles are not fought with fists or power but with trust, love, and the courage to face the past.

This is their story. How worlds collided, and how, against the odds, they found something worth fighting for. I am the Watcher. And though I may not interfere, I will always remember the day I chose to change the course of destiny.

###

April, 2024

The sky split open at precisely 2:13 a.m.

Above the treeline outside of Berlin, reality itself seemed to fracture—a jagged tear in the air, like lightning with no storm to follow. It hung there, crackling and raw, a dark window into another sky. No thunderclap. No warning. Just silence. And then a whoosh sound of something breaking through. A body, hurled like a comet, crashing down through the darkness.

Then the rift sealed shut and left no trace that it had ever been there.

The locals would later swear they saw a woman fall from the night sky.

She hit the earth with a force that shook windows in nearby homes, setting off forgotten NATO motion sensors buried deep in the ground. Birds flew from the trees in frantic flocks, shrieking into the night. The ground itself seemed to shiver from the impact, and green shards of crystal scattered for miles around, glinting like emerald glass in the moonlight.

In the center of a smoking crater, sprawled amid broken soil and splintered roots, Lyra stirred, bleeding, half-conscious, and gasped for air. A faint, sickly green glow pulsed under the skin just above her ribs, where her black suit had been ripped open. The wound oozed red blood, human enough in color but far more precious.

Her black cape, charred at the edges and tattered, lay tangled beneath her like a fallen banner. Her right hand twitched, remembering the fight, and then went still.

Lyra Jor-El was dying, and behind her closed eyelids, the angry face of Alexandra Luthor—cold, calculating, wielding that gun loaded with kryptonite ammunition—burned in her mind. The memory stayed with her as consciousness slipped away and left nothing but darkness.

###

Country Road, Germany—2:45 a.m.

The night stretched out before them. Endless, quiet. The kind of silence that pressed in. The borrowed car rumbled steadily down the narrow, winding road, its headlights slicing through the dense darkness. Bucky kept his eyes ahead, his hands gripping the wheel, while Sam reclined in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone.

Suddenly, Sam’s phone buzzed with a phone call, and he quickly answered.

“You’re gonna want to see this,” came Torres’ voice, slightly crackling through the line. No pleasantries, just business.

Sam tapped the screen, and a grainy satellite image popped up—infrared, low-res, timestamped just half an hour ago. A faint glow pulsed on the screen like a heartbeat, painting a hazy red circle over a dark patch of forest.

“That’s nearby?” Sam asked, squinting.

“Outside of Berlin,” Torres confirmed. “And that energy signature? It doesn’t match anything we’ve seen before. I already asked Darcy Lewis to triple-check.” He hesitated, as if unsure whether to add the next part. “There’s… also some kind of radiation leak. Minor. But weird.”

Bucky, silent until now, glanced sideways without taking his hands off the wheel. “You think it’s Karli?”

Torres scoffed lightly. “Karli doesn’t fall out of the sky,” he replied. “Whatever this was… it wasn’t launched. There’s no propulsion trail. It just… showed up. Like someone dropped it through a hole in space.”

Sam exhaled as he tried to process that. “So, what? You think we’ve got another enhanced?”

Torres’ pause was telling. 

“I… don’t know what the hell we’ve got,” he admitted. “But someone’s already cleaned the footage from two nearby CCTV cams. Which means someone’s watching this.”

That sent a ripple of unease through the car. Sam and Bucky exchanged a look. Both of them had seen too many cover-ups to ignore a detail like that.

“Bucky. We divert,” Sam decided, his tone firm.

Bucky gave a slight nod, already reaching for the GPS on his own phone, which was mounted on the dash. “Fine. Let’s check it out. Send the coordinates, Torres.”

“Already on it,” Torres replied. Then his tone grew more serious. “Heads up, though—NATO picked up the radiation spike too. Expect company.”

Sam’s jaw tightened. “Got it. Appreciate the warning.”

“Stay safe out there, guys,” Torres said before the line cut out.

Silence filled the car again, thicker than before. Bucky adjusted his grip on the wheel, his metal fingers glinting faintly in the low light.

Sam looked over and caught he way Bucky’s eyes stayed hard and focused on the road. 

“Can’t wait to see what this is about,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and sardonic.

Sam huffed a breath, half a laugh, half a sigh. “Yeah. Let’s just hope it’s not another goddamn alien invasion.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but his jaw worked a little tighter, a flicker of past battles flashing in his mind. He pressed down a little harder on the gas, and the engine growled in response as they sped through the dark, chasing whatever had just fallen from the sky.

###

Berlin, Rural Outskirts—3:41 a.m.

The woods were shrouded in darkness, which seemed to swallow sound. Bucky and Sam moved through the tangled brush with stealth, each of their steps muffled against the damp, frost-touched ground. The air was cold and wet, tinged with the metallic scent of ozone and the scorched tang of burnt soil. A crow cawed somewhere behind them, sharp and startled, then abruptly fell silent.

Bucky halted, one hand raised in a silent signal. Sam mirrored the motion, his eyes sweeping the terrain. They’d been moving cautiously for half a mile, dodging NATO patrols who were seting up a perimeter. Floodlights glared through the trees from the other side of the hill.

Sam adjusted the strap on his shoulder holster and craned his neck to peer through the underbrush. “You think they already took whatever fell?” he whispered.

Bucky shook his head, his eyes narrowed, his instincts sharp. “No. If they had, they wouldn’t still be here.”

The two crept forward until they crested the hill. There, just beyond the line of trees, lay the blast site. The ground had been torn open and had a blast radius at least fifty meters wide. The surrounding trees had been bent backward like half-broken matchsticks, their trunks splintered. Some still smoldered, thin tendrils of smoke curling upward. At the heart of it: a crater. Deep, blackened, and steaming at the edges as if the ground itself had been cauterized.

“Jesus,” Sam muttered, as he took in the devastation. “Whatever hit this hard didn’t come from a drone strike.”

Bucky moved ahead, his boots crunching softly on charred twigs. He squatted at the crater’s edge and brushed two fingers against the blackened dirt. “No impact debris. No metallic fragments. No tech. Just... force.” He looked up at Sam, his expression tense. “Like someone dropped a wrecking ball from orbit.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the sky. “But there’s no satellite record. Torres would’ve picked it up.”

Bucky straightened, his jaw tight. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

Sam shifted uneasily. 

Then, suddenly—movement.

“Contact. Ten o’clock, edge of the crater,” Sam whispered.

Both men raised their weapons, their muscles coiled and ready, but they didn’t fire. Not yet. Shadows flickered along the rim, and a shape moved, low and cautious. It wasn’t NATO. They were still clustered at the opposite end, yelling in German and setting up equipment.

Bucky took a slow, deliberate step forward, signaling Sam to hold position. His gaze tracked the figure’s movements, watching how it swayed, unsteady, almost like a wounded animal.

Sam glanced at him. “Think it’s one of theirs?”

Bucky’s eyes stayed fixed on the shadow. “No. Too deliberate. Whoever that is, they’re trying not to be seen.”

The figure staggered again, silhouetted by the dim light of NATO’s floodlamps behind it. Bucky saw a flash of long dark hair, caught in the wind. Then the figure collapsed, half-hidden by a fallen tree.

Bucky lowered his weapon slightly and exchanged a look with Sam. “Stay here. Cover me,” he whispered.

Sam gave a tight nod and kept his stance ready, his eyes sweeping the area. Bucky moved with quiet precision and closed the distance in a low crouch. As he approached, he heard labored breathing—a rasping, uneven sound.

He rounded the fallen tree carefully and froze. A woman lay there, curled on her side, blood streaked across her torn clothing. Her skin was pale, almost luminescent under the moonlight, and a strange greenish glow pulsed faintly just below her rib cage. Her dark hair was tangled and matted with dirt.

Bucky glanced back at Sam, giving a quick hand signal: Found something. 

Sam moved in, keeping his gun lowered but ready. “Who is she?” he whispered.

Bucky didn’t answer immediately. He crouched closer and studied the woman’s face. He did not recognize her. Then he noticed the symbol on her torn suit—a diamond-shaped crest on her chest, partially obscured by mud. It had the letter S on it.

“Who the hell are you?” Bucky muttered under his breath.

The woman stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, her gaze was unfocused, then suddenly sharp. It was piercing blue and caught the moonlight. She opened her mouth, tried to speak, but only a faint, broken whisper came out:

“Don’t… let them take me…”

Bucky hesitated and glanced at Sam. “She’s not military. Not from here.”

Sam glanced back at the NATO patrols, who hadn’t yet noticed their position. “We gotta move. They’ll spot us any second.”

Bucky didn’t need convincing. He scooped the woman into his arms. She didn’t struggle. She barely weighed anything, despite her height. She was taller than average woman. And then he nodded toward the deeper woods. Sam led the way, keeping low, while Bucky followed, cradling the mysterious stranger close to his chest. They disappeared into the dark and left the crater and the NATO troops behind.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Featuring Essek's Parents: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have Essek's parents! Check under the cut for seven fics that feature Deirta, Essek's father or both! Don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

No One By That Name Lives Here Anymore by Operafloozy (13138, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A few years after faking his own death, Essek runs into someone he used to know by chance in Uthodurn - A certain someone who had supposedly died his last death in Bazzoxan a few decades before.

Reccer says: This is a really interesting look at what consecution might actually imply in terms of family. It's really bittersweet and invites you to try to empathize with both sides of the central conflict instead of painting them in black and white. One might imagine that the beacons are grey for a reason. (Plus I REALLY love outsider POV!)

destructive interference by atlasarcana (141219, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek is haunted by a monster in Aeor that makes him suffer flashbacks of his worst actions; Caleb helps him forgive himself and take accountability.

Reccer says: Essek's family (Deirta, his father, and Verin) play a prominent role in the character study of how Essek is the way he is.

The Joys of Parenthood by Queen_of_Thornes (3945, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Four vignettes of Deirta Thelyss's exhausting life as mother of two precocious future leaders.

Reccer says: I'm not one for kidfic but this is just so dead-on to life with toddlers, insane and baffling little gremlins that they are, that I couldn't help but love it. It reminded me of my younger siblings when they were that age with the "How did you even think to do that" shenanigans they'd get up to so it's pretty nostalgic for me. Readers with children or who helped raise siblings will find a lot to relate to here.

spare just a day for the weeping by essektheylyss (divinationwizard) (3619, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Criminal punishment among the upper echelon of the Dynasty is determined by the court, but implemented by the umavi of the den of the convicted.

Reccer says: Features a wonderfully complicated Deirta, and incredible character dynamics all around

until it doesn't hurt by breitweisergallery (3800, General) Reccer's Content Notes: None

5+1 times Deirta spoke to Essek via sending.

Reccer says: The fic delves into a more loving Deirta who is distant from Essek but still loves him all the same.

looking for the meaning of life by quinn-of-aebradore (15281, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Centuries later, Essek has settled into another new life. Little does he know so has Deirta.

Reccer says: A year is a long time all on its own and this fic is packed with impressions of lived history and emotion built over the course of centuries. If Deirta was once a distant parent, how might she try to bridge past gaps when a new life gives her extra perspective? If Essek has loved and lost and loved again, how might he understand his mother anew? A fascinating exploration of how time can change people and how people can change over time.

The following fic received two recs!

Starburst Hearts by kaeda (4805, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A wonderfully tender fic in which Deirta catches up with Essek a few years after c2 and finds that her son is a man remade.

Reccer 1 says: Outsider POV my beloved! It turns a camera's eye onto the man Essek becomes through the Mighty Nein and gaining Caleb as a lover, and onto the love that the Nein have for him, shown through a soft lens. Reccer 2 says: A wonderful fic from Deirta's perspective of Essek's interactions with the M9 and all of the complicated family feelings that come along with it.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring xenobiology! This includes all sorts of unusual and non-human biology

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[thedubiousdallon]

Apparently cluster focused fic ideas just what my brain is on right now, so fuck it, here's a half formed premise. Let's start with two changes to canon. First, New Wave doesn't get Marquis. Second, when Anette dies, Danny triggers with some kind of power that interferes with his emotional regulation - let's say a Breaker state where he becomes a swarm of insects but his conscious decisionmaking basically turns off while he's in it - he acts on whatever his conscience or unconscious intentions were at the time he went Breaker. And let's say there's a lingering impairment after he changes back proportionate to the time spent transformed.

With a power like that, it's very easy for him to get on the bad side of the heroes, and with that plus his anger, easy for him to start taking it out on them. So let's say he throws in with Marquis. Taylor doesn't know what Danny's been up to, but he's getting more and more angry and id driven, both for mundane grief reasons and because he's not taking enough time to rest relative to how often he's using his power.

After maybe a year of this, it comes to a head. One day, while Danny and Taylor are out for a fun day together on the Boardwalk, they bump into New Wave doing some PR demo, introducing Shielder or something, with a still-unpowered Victoria cheering the loudest to cover up how much the shame of getting passed by her little cousin is eating her alive. And the sight of this happy family that he's come to blame for the destruction of his own happy family life makes Danny snap. Second trigger, seeing red. He wants to annihilate them. He goes Breaker, and now his swarm is massive, composed of giant, monstrous, and lethal bugs, but his control is even worse. Massive collateral damage. He has just presence of mind to have some of his bugs shove Taylor somewhere she'll be safe from the crossfire - which just so happens to be into a dumpster.

And he goes scorched earth on the boardwalk, especially on the New Wave capes who have been knocked flat by the trigger vision and cannot defend themselves.

By extreme misfortune, Marquis is also in the crowd, in civvies. He wanted to do some quiet recon on his longtime enemies' newest addition, and thought he'd take Amy with him both as a teaching moment and for a fun outing. He goes out like a light when Danny's second trigger goes off, and he gets trampled by the crowd trying to flee and gets caught in the bug apocalypse crossfire.

So we have:

Taylor, alone and trapped in filth, who has spent a year watching her dad pull away and become angrier and angrier, who's still had Emma turn on her as in canon, and has just seen her dad turn into a biblical plague and, as far as she can tell, literally thrown her away.

Victoria, seeing her family at the mercy of a murderous supervillain, utterly powerless to defend them and with years of feeling impotent and like a disappointment to her family having just been brought to an indignant fever pitch by being the literal only person in her family not to have powers.

Amy, whose father has almost certainly kept her fairly isolated for her own (and his) protection, watching the only person she feels she has in the world, who always seemed invincible, bleeding out in front of her.

Boom, cluster trigger.

The trigger event knocks Danny out of his Breaker state, and they're able to contain him before he does much more damage. Most of New Wave survives (maybe he gets Carol? Maybe Eric?) and he goes to the Birdcage. Amy saves Marquis. Through cluster bleed through, she finds Taylor in the aftermath - and thank God for that, because who knows how long it would've taken for someone to find her otherwise. Once Marquis understands who her father is and what's happened to her, her connection to Amy, he takes her in.

And that sets the stage for the story. Amy and Victoria, villain and hero, the embodiments of an old and deep rivalry, and Taylor, the daughter of the man who nearly killed them all, caught between her desire to do good and her family connections to villainy. Tie them all together with cluster bleed through, kiss/kill dynamics, some power mediation, add in social dynamics and pressures, interactions in their civilian lives - it's a stew of rich possibilities.

And that's not even touching their powers!

[jafndaegur]

You're Always You

Honkai: Star Rail

Ship: Phaidei / Myphai

Rating: T

Warnings: Major Character Death; MAJOR 3.4 VERSION SPOILERS⚠️

Word Count: 3,850 words

Read on AO3

a/n: Look. Guys. Im on SO much copium for 3.4. I was an emotional wreck about it. It took me the whole weekend to process it. Now I fear we may only be getting Hurt/Comfort fics from me 😩

It was natural that there would be little trust from the other Chrysos Heirs toward Khaslana, after everything passed.

The Trailblazer’s intervention, one may argue even divine interference, allowed Phainon and Cyrene to change the fate of their homeland. To bypass Era Nova and cede their planet not to the Destruction, but to a kinder fate. A fate that watched Amphoreus wink into existence within the cosmos as a real world. No longer dictated by a Scepter, no longer code among a simulation ran by robotic and lifeless hands—Amphoreus and its inhabitants blossomed into the starry backdrop of the universe like a drop of ink on paper. Those written into the binary became beings of flesh and red blood, born now with distinct beginnings and ends. Nanook’s blood no longer soiled the livelihoods of the Chrysos Heirs. While the pasts that had predetermined their lives could not be re-written, they could live the remainder of their days as they chose. Unburdened by algorithmic predestiny.

The Trailblazer explained to the gathered Chrysos Heirs that the moment of peace would likely be short lived. There were many factions among the stars that gained much from developing ties with new worlds. Many good, but also many bad. And with the upheaval between Fuli, Nous, and Nanook, there were many eyes turned to the new world.

Aglaea had smiled and merely said they would face whatever would come as always. Together and united.

Phainon…or he supposed, Khaslana, wasn’t sure if that included him.

He had all the memories of his previous incarnations, the weight nearly all too tremendous for the last body he had passed the legacy down to. The 33,550,337th Phainon. The final one to bear the burden of every hope, dream, and sin of the previous Khaslanas.

As Khaslana watched the ebb and flow of Marmoreal Market, vibrant with genuine and organic life, he realized it had been perhaps his truest sin. The first Primordial Sin that went against the programming of his perfection. A wish, to see everyone in this new world, in this new life, and to be immersed with them. Not as a memory, not as someone incapable of recollecting the struggles of every cycle before—but as himself. He had wanted to carry everyone’s wishes with him, and in doing so, still being able to bear witness to that desire brought to fruition.

His face pinched. Now he wished he had dissipated to ash with the rise of Amphoreus’ new chance. That there was only the beautiful remembrance of who he had been in the minds of his friends.

Because with the true dawn, his plights had been exposed to his closest comrades. Of course Lycurgus didn’t go down into permanent deletion without one final retaliation. And in exposing Khaslana’s every memory from the very first Eternal Recurrence to now, the Chrysos Heirs bore witness to just who exactly stood amongst them as “Phainon”. There was some sympathy, yes. How could there not be after every single trial he went through to bring them freedom? But with death after death—murder after murder—and his eventual collision with true madness on display for every Chrysos Heir to witness, he found himself on the receiving end of skeptical glances and pained expressions. Only the Trailblazer and Cyrene offered him little change in how they interacted with him.

Read the rest on AO3!

[unknowngaytoaster]

Paperjam meets Goth

(A small fic of in the scenario of Paperjam meeting Goth after the discovery of Error being Geno)

Voices crowd and cradle the vicinity of Olympus, many intrigued at the freshly discovered news. Most prominently on the grounds of Olympus were the Gods of death, destruction, and creation. All three beings gathered to discuss new arrangements in the foreign circumstance that had not too long ago come to be. On the horizon, just on the edge of Olympus, sit Goth and Paperjam, legs dangling on the edge of the free fall down below.

The air between the two is one-sidedly tense, Goth's fingertips curling tightly into his snow-white cloak from the anticipation. While Paperjam's gaze lay calm and collected, basking in the beautiful sunset before him.

"I'm sorry," Goth uttered under his breath.

Paperjams' skull snapped toward the smaller skeleton. "What?"

Goth repeated. "I'm sorry."

With an arched eyebrow, Paperjam pressed forward, "For what exactly?", genuine curiosity spilling.

"I... I'm sorry for taking your dad away from you." Goth spoke, guilt spilling from his trembling mouth.

Even more confusion spread through Paper Jam's expression before finally landing on realization. "My....? Ah, right."

Goth's eyes widened as words started spilling from his mouth, apologies and explanations, desperate acknowledgments to understanding the conundrum that had unfolded with the discovery that Error was in fact Geno.

"I-i know it's probably messing with your family-."

Paperjam interrupted casually.

"I don't really consider Error to be my dad."

Goth's body froze, then loosened at once.

"....oh."

Possible misinterpretations flooded Goth's head, as Paperjam rushed to explain.

"Uh, well, it's more like I consider Error and Ink to be my creators?"

The silence grew from Goth, and more concern and confusion sprouted.

Paper jam took a breath and took his time to explain.

"It's hard to say, I guess I was kind of an accident?"

At the time of Paperjam's creation, Ink and Error were never in a formal relationship; the two clashed at many points, and the opposites attracted yet repelled each other consistently. The relationship was casual at best, for both a being that was erratic and ever-changing in moods, to a being that felt nothing without the interference of vials to guide the direction of emotions, consistency was difficult between the two.

Paperjams's creation itself was a mesh of magic intertwining at length at enough of an intensity to create life, and such a life that confused both Ink and Error.

Both the guardian and the Destroyer found themselves at an impasse, neither having memories of experience with cultivating life, let alone raising it.

"It's not that they were horrible at taking care of me, it's just they were kind of...detached? Especially when I was just a baby bone, which wasn't for a long time."

Paperjam explained, glancing at Goth, who solemnly nodded along. Oddly enough, even though time frame-wise, Goth was surely older than Paperjam, perhaps a child created from soul-bonding and a child created from magic had different rates of age progression, but Paperjam couldn't be sure.

"Error wasn't bad at parenting, now that I think about it. Probably was better between the two. It kind of seemed like he vaguely knew what he was doing, like some... far-off muscle memory."

Goth's eyes gleamed at the prospect.

Paper Jam's memory of the early days was hazy, especially when he could barely take care of himself. Blurred memories of Ink's enthusiastic attempts at connecting with the child before losing concentration and forgetting what he was even doing in that moment.

Error's attempts at child care were sporadic and nonsensical in their levels of effectiveness. Ranging from leaving him on a couch to watch Undernovella to attempting to educate him with books and puzzles.

Error seemingly understood that touch was an important aspect in a child's development, whether this knowledge came consciously or unconsciously. The days when Error showed affection and attempted to make contact were just as sporadic as his attempts in child care.

Some days, Error would hold Paper Jam at arm's length, maybe just barely cradling him in his arms, until he would place Paper Jam on the ground as his body would force a hard reboot from the sheer stimulation of physical contact. Other days, Error struggled to even stay in the same room as Paperjam, as if the mere air of living beings made his spine shiver.

For the days that Error did leave paper jam on his lonesome, which happened more frequently than both his creators would have liked to admit, he would spare Paperjam a puppet of Classic Sans to supplement his need for affection, and Error's lack of availability to provide it.

A certain moment in time rang clear as odd in Paperjam's memory. An afternoon filled with oddly casual parental affection, a young Paper Jam being held close and dear to Error's chest, skull resting softly on the Destroyer's shoulder as his back was gently patted, Error humming a tune. The moment had been odd yet well appreciated in the grand scheme of things, appreciated until the moment was broken as if a sudden realization came to Error that something was off.

Paper Jam was tugged away from Error's shoulder and brought once again at the regular arms-length distance that usually Error provided. The glitch's eyes squinting hard, eyes blurred in their effort to see what was before them, before a shiver ran up his spine as Error quickly plopped Paperam on the floor. A hard reboot racking his body, the sound of shrill glitching echoing in the emptiness of the antivoid, painfully coursing through Error's body for many minutes.

What followed was many days of silence and isolation from Error, though Paperjam’s memory didn't remember those days with as much clarity.

Paperjam's gaze returned to Goth, only to see intense glee.

“My dad was also weird!”

The little skeleton started sharing his own stories of memories of his father as a baby bone.

Toriel freaking out at the site of Goth covered in his father's blood, after being hugged just a little too hard to his father's chest. The eternally-bleeding stab wound blessed him with a horrifying look that made the Goddess of Life almost collapse from surprise.

Paper jam and Goth spent the rest of the night trading stories and sharing laughs, worries of the future lying behind them as a concern for then, not now.

[blacksheep28]

I like the character Shen Jiu. I enjoy stories where he gets happy endings and is redeemed and all that.

I also think that he shouldn't be allowed around children. While he abused Binghe the most, Shen Jiu very much dislikes people. He should not be in charge of small children, because he can and will lash out at them the same way he would to adults.

Fics where he's secretly a good guy? Not really good characterization. It's certainly fun, and he certainly has the trauma for it. But I think even a Shen Jiu who didn't have a ton of trauma would be prickly and care for maybe five people besides himself.

Something serious would have to change in order to make Shen Jiu tolerate Luo Binghe. It would take outside interference for anything to change with that particular dynamic. Shen Jiu is set on self destructing and isn't getting out of that alone.

[shewrites02]

IDK IF THIS IS HOW YOU WRITE A REQUEST BUT

Prompt 7 with Luffy? If you can❤️❤️

Prompt Seven | Luffy x Reader |- “Don’t say that to me. That’s not fair.”

A/n: This is apart of my 400 follower event. I've decided the prompt will be more of drabbles, than full fics. Check the prompt list here: 400 follower event

Word Count: 1.3k

Your hands cling fervidly to the pirate captain's wrist. White finger tips dig into his tan flesh. Tears flow down your cheeks in rivers. The sobs distort your voice when you speak. There is a gut wrenching pain at the sound of your request. Your selfish indulgent request.

"Please, don't go Luffy."

It is not a lack of trust that drivers you plea. That has you so desperately imploring the pirate to stay. If Luffy said he is going to win, that is what he is going to do. But did he always have to be the one to do the saving?

Luffy's smile does not waiver. It is still warm. Inviting. Assured.

"Go to the sunny. I'm going to be back." He says with an abhorrent casualness. There is no sense of relief at his promises. No matter how gleefully they are delivered. It does not offer your heart any comfort. If you were a Strawhat, a member of his crew, you would leave. Take his words as the orders they are, in spite of how kindly they're disguised. But you are not his subordinate-

You are his wife.

"Please, Luffy-"

The pirate captain has broken your hold. Is already creating distance before your words reach him.

"I'll be back!" He calls out running in the opposite direction. Into the flames. Chasing the very destruction he is sending you away from. His two wings on either side of him, following his direction. Usopp pulls at your arm, begging your movement. You can't leave. Refuse to leave until Luffy is out of your line of sight. Until it is official- he has left you here.

"Y/n!" The snipper begs.

He doesn't have the words to coddle your feelings. The sense of urgency seems to have no one minding their manners. Once Luffy is gone you allow one last huff to leave your lips . You snatch your arm free from Usopp's grasp. Wipe at your cheeks til the evidence of your tears are gone. Then you follow your husband orders: 'Go to the sunny'

- The booze flows freely, though most of it is being hoarded by the swordsman. Sanji has entrée after entrée coming out the kitchen to assuage the captain's appetite. The deck is full of celebratory singing and laughs.

You wish you could join in on the cheer. Shove your hurt feelings down enough to be with your family, and not sulking on the railings but- here you were. Maybe waiting to see how long it would take your husband to notice your absence. To your surprise it is not long before Luffy's eyes are scanning the deck in search of you. They widen at the sight of you. His smile spreads to the span of his face.

There are two drumsticks in the captain's hands as he approaches. Before he says any words he is extending one out to you. Begrudgingly , you accept. The aroma is much too enticing to let your feelings interfere with your stomach. With no words you chomp away at the meat, leaving Luffy to burrow his eyes into you.

"I was looking for you. Why are you over here? Don't you want to come join the crew?"

"I'm not a part of your crew Luffy!" You snap.

The rubber man's eyebrows furrow into a frown. He doesn't mask the hurt that hearing your words causes. Wears it so blatantly as he stares back at you. The clench your heart makes is reflexive. Hurting the captain is not something you enjoyed doing. Even if it came out of anger.

"Why would you say that?" Luffy questioned. His voice is only a fraction of its usual lively self.

"Because I don't think it's clear. When we got married I told you that I was not going to be a Strawhat. That I was not someone who took orders from you! We're supposed to be partners Luffy, and you left me there alone after I begged you not to go!"

You watch as the captain's hurt expression morphs into one more of confusion. His obliviousness only angers you more. Watching him ponder the thought as though he couldn't recall.

"But- I won."

You don't fight the roll of your eyes at his announcement. Could never diminish the accomplishments of the future pirate King, but his conquest seems to be the only focus of his. The only thing he keeps his promises to.

"You promised me Luffy! … Tell me now do you want a partner, or a subordinate because I refuse to be both."

Luffy opens his mouth to speak but no words fall from his lips. The hesitation makes your heart break. It is your expression that is falling. Turning into something fragile, something broken. Tears claw their way up your throat despite the many swallows to keep them down.

"Luffy, you are so worried about protecting everyone else, but when are you going to protect me ? My feelings ? Or does saving everyone else come before me?"

You hate to guilt trip the pirate. To challenge the wholesome , whole hearted personality you feel in love with. But it is so hard to take a back seat to everything in Luffy's life. His ambition. His Crewmates. His wants. All demanding you make sacrifices, so the pirate king doesn't have to. Sacrifices you have made willingly, with a smile on your face, until now.

"Don't say that to me, that's not fair!" The pirate challenges.

"Fair?" You let out a laugh at his testament. It screams more of disbelief than amusement, but it deepens the pirate's frown all the same. "Luffy, I have given up everything for you, but you can't even prioritize my feelings… that's not fair!"

All the eyes of the strawhat pirates are staring back at you at the end of your rant. Hadn't even realized that you were shouting at their captain in the midst of your anger. In the face of their stares , embarrassment is quick to cascade over you. You can't stand to be on display any longer. With no response from your husband , you go rushing to hide in the shared quarters.

Face buried into the pillows, you sob and sob and sob. So distraught at the idea that you meant the least to the man you have vowed to spend the rest of your life with. 'stupid.'

That is what your friends and family called you when you left home to follow after Luffy. When you told them you loved him too much to ask him to give up his dream for you. To not watch him ascend among the greats like you knew he would. Then it had not bothered you, was willing to be stupid if it meant spending the rest of your life with Luffy. Now-

It echoed so loudly in your mind.

There is no knock prior to the door swinging open. Luffy had no concern for any such formalities, even if he knew you were angry with him. You don't turn to greet him. Couldn't look into his big round eyes just to hear him spout more empty promises.

"Is that really how I made you feel- like I don't care about you?"

"At all." You respond without a beat.

You feel the dip in the bed as Luffy takes a seat. For a moment there is just quiet. An uncomfortable, heavy silence.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I- I didn't know that."

Finally you turn to meet the pirate's gaze. See the sincerity in his eyes. He offers you his hand , pulling you to sit up to face him.

"I know you don't take orders from me." Luffy reaches out to swipe his thumb along your cheek, to wipe away your tears. "I don't want to make you feel that way anymore."

"I know who I married Luffy- I'm not asking you to change-"

"But I was selfish. I'm going to do better." He proclaims.

He takes your cheeks into your hands. Pulls you forward until your lips meet his. This kiss is slow, gentle. Very different from what you were used to receiving from the captain.

"I'm sorry." Luffy mumbles against your lips.

If you enjoy my content or if you have $5 to spare , please consider donating it to Besan . she is a mother trying so desperately to get her family out of Gaza. She is still so far away from her go fund me goal!

[iucidaus]

aight yk what? i need to get this out of my system (do correct me if i got some facts wrong and i'm open to discussion! yippe)

i have a theory, a baseless one, about phainon AND aedes elysiae:

WARNING: might contain leak (but, really, leaks are dubious until confirmed. still, i'll try my best keeping it subtle), and excuse my english it's not my native language

“Hero. Divine. Puppet. Prisoner. Which of these things are you? Who are you?”

many of us think that hero is the phainon we know, divine is phainon when he ascended to titanhood(?), kephale, puppet is flame reaver, prisoner is the lord ravager phainon. BUT WHAT IF, hero is actually flame reaver (thus the title being nameless hero because flame reaver is, in a sense, more nameless than phainon if it is possible), and the phainon we know is puppet? like a pawn purposed to free the lord ravager phainon? (yes, i am a lord ravager phainon believer and yes, i like thinking that because he's a lord ravager and we will fight nanook/destruction at the end of the game, meaning that we will fight him again in the end much like how we fought kevin at the end of chapter 1 in hi3. i think that would be a great 'homage')

Flame Reaver is the split of Kephale Phainon, and so does Phainon to Lord Ravager

we all know that phainon used to be anaxa's student and perhaps had learned alchemy, so what if in the previous cycles he too had studied alchemy, and he used it to split his soul or sth? although it is kinda a reach (every point of this post is a reach tbh), i think alchemy in fictional work can do literally everything lmao.

this goes the same to phainon, he's acting like a pawn to help the lord ravager free of its shackles by using the 'coreflame of kephale' (we'll get to this later).

Khaos, and in extension, every bearers of the Worldbearing Coreflame is iteration of Phainon

i don't know, i don't have particular reason for this. only that i know hyv and basically many companies are lazy to make a new model, but it will still make sense if we go by my theory. but i saw someone posted on twitter [https://twitter.com/hxg_diluc/status/1915098251969396972?t=KeGKJJHVmQTkatuzMy0drw&s=19] that both khaos and phainon has "厄" in their names, so... that's an addition.

The Worldbearing Coreflame kept at the Dawncloud is a counterfeit

(hear me out, this one is the craziest one, literally, but stick with me) the 12 coreflames are needed to bring era nova, but so does for kephale to imprison lord ravager (yes, i believe he's kept within the dawn device). so, as the 12 coreflames are collected, ostensibly at least, flame reaver will interfere the ceremony before phainon can collect the worldbearing coreflame into the basin (what was that thing called again) taking the coreflames (the water i guess) with him to bring to khaos. this though made both khaos and lord ravager to wake up, but that's exactly his plan. the counterfeit is a stellaron, made to merge with phainon and thus wake the lord ravager, the coreflames were absorbed by khaos(?) to defeat the lord ravager.

(note: kinda similar to how cipher gave us a counterfeit trophy in seal slammer event! we got the fame, cipher got the money- phainon got the coreflame albeit fake, khaos got the power to protect amphoreus)

(additional note: the longer i write this part the longer it's apparent i'm just a fic writer- i feel crazy lmao)

Aedes Elysiae never existed (but there's a catch)

never heard by common folks, not written in songs nor poems, people believe phainon was just making things up when he said he came from aedes elysiae. partially of it was correct, but it was more like he didn't tell them the complete truth. phainon, though created oblivious to his actual purpose, remembered that he came from aedes elysiae, a village that i theorized to exist ONLY on the first cycle of amphoreus but not remade after it (for whatever reason the other phainons had).

“I am but one among a thousand faces defiant against my fate. That which you see... is me.”

as a lord ravager phainon believer, i believe this line was spoken by the lord ravager. although it's a distant dream to me, i feel like hsr should at least once show a lord ravager that hated being a lord ravager.

having experienced countless failed attempts to save his village and his world, as a human, he would feel useless and perhaps rendered him into thinking to destroy himself. a desire so great, he gained the gaze of nanook (crazy, ikr). but he hated himself being given a power to destroy not only himself but the village and world he hold so dearly, and so he began a journey to free himself from his predestined fate (like how amphoreus trying to free itself out of nous's calculation :D !)

(basically, he is a writer creating countless aus for himself lmao)

(note: indeed he has lived through numerous cycles as lord ravager, and indeed he previously lived as phainon then kephale then fail to protect his world then lord ravager, and it keeps resetting and resetting and resetting as lord ravager phainon tried to free himself from his fate)

bonus theory:

Phainon is the "Sun Devourer"

"Praise the sun!" was phainon's line? status? on the messaging feature on hsr. kephale is regarded as the sun, phainon is the successor of worldbearing coreflame, thus him being the eventual kephale. it would be ironic but befitting if, as said in the previous point, phainon as kephale wanted to devour himself because he hated his power?

Flame Reaver has a golden blood too

ik these theories don't exactly connect with each other but like... hey! my mind is a mess thinking about phainon's potential story yk so... understandable, mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

i know about the theory that the phainon at the beginning of "Nameless Faces" trailer is flame reaver phainon, and i actually think so too! only that i want to add that, as my theory said that flame reaver is a split from kephale phainon, i think the reason why he's most likely able to house coreflames was because he was particularly given the golden blood (the water he splashes to himself was THE golden blood).

[comrademutancy]

2 quick Obikin recs while I have the tabs open bc this was originally started as a fic rec sideblog

Within Limits, now orphaned on AO3, previously under the username "sacrilegist," originally posted on livejournal in 2005, 22k, explicit

summary: "Anakin’s fustration grows as he and Obi-Wan’s tour on the Outer Rim goes on with no end in sight."

very intricately written. a lot fic will say "oh how they bantered" or "they loved to quip" or "one would never let the other have the last word" and so on and leave it as an article of faith or something in a purely decorative, adjectival way intended to add some casual flavouring to the characterization of a relationship without actually working out or even caring very much about the sources and consequences of this kind of friction. NOT SO THIS ONE. The relationship IS essentially in its very form this contestation. of words, and emotions, and status, and autonomy. I don't think I have read another Obikin fic that so explicitly and thoroughly and continuously explores some essential conflict between the two of them in this way.

am I explaining it well? I don't think so. ok. there's a lot of fic that do some aspects of power negotiation very well. or you know, Darth Vader is some variant of evil/unacceptable/way beyond the norms of permissible behaviour and Obi-Wan is... not. And that poses an intractable conflict. this fic is like... what if we have that intractable conflict BEFORE any of that even begins to fully realize itself, assume it was there all along. (I think a very common premise anyway? but rarely taken seriously and written out all the way)

I am also very predisposed to the idea the Jedi Order is very casual about sex in terms of dogma or principle, but Anakin or (in this case) Obi-Wan have specific personal reasons why they cannot be casual about sex with each other. this fic is a great example. (I also enjoy interpretations when they are casual about sex with each other. please msg/reply w recs if you know of any!)

History Never Repeats, ValiantBarnes (Cimila), 36k, mature

summary: "There's no possible way to keep track of how long Obi-wan's lived, now. He lives, he dies, he lives again. He'll wake up somewhere in the past, the possibility of change infuriatingly close but forever out of reach. Anakin always falls to Vader; the Republic always fails. The hows and whys of both are not set, Obi-wan's interference never changing anything for the better.

He quite dislikes the lives where they find themselves on Mustufar. The heat of it, the stench; Anakin's yellow eyes burning more than the lava ever could.

Sometimes, Obi-wan misses the sickly yellow of them as much as he does clear, sky blue."

if I had to pick, this is probably my favourite Obikin fic of all time. some things I really care about: intractable conflict, Obi-Wan's infinite sadness (did you know the tag "infinite sadness" on ao3 actually directs back to Obi-Wan's infinite sadness specifically???), a certain level of fidelity to canon and canon characterization if we're not going total AU or similar, murderous impulses taken to their logical conclusion

at longer length: I think I like this so much more than other (also excellent) time loop stories because it never lets go of the brutality of Vader's crimes and his personal involvement in the fall of the Republic as the underlying engine driving all of Obi-Wan's choices and actions. and so Obi-Wan will never stop trying to thwart Vader and Sidious by whatever means necessary. like of course it's a personal history/story for Obi-Wan and Anakin and that, as usual, is the emotional core of this fic. but they were also adherents of ideologies. real true believers. the violation was not only at the level of personal betrayal (and murder and maiming and so on) but a fundamental breach to belief systems they were living and dying for - ie the Republic. the destruction of everything once held dear doesn't just happen incidentally or accidentally. I read Obikin fic because I care about their relationship, but I care about their relationship because it's an artifact of a galactically rending conflict preceded and followed by centuries of rebellion and revolution, which is not something that could be avoided with just a change in disposition or temperament. there has to be a futility to the effort and at the same time there can never be any question Obi-Wan would ever stop throwing himself on the pyre of history in a seemingly hopeless attempt to put it out. Spoiler alert: we are rewarded w a HEA, a very lovely wrapped with a bow HEA, and it feels earned precisely because it was not guaranteed. to be honest I don't think I would be as emotionally satisfied or loved this as much if it was otherwise but I would almost respect it more for leaving us hanging

please read this fic I love it so much

[harpymin]

i bound a fic! Destructive interference was written by the lovely @atlasarcana

this took about 4-5 days of on and off working and as far as first times go, i think this turned out preety coool

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Getting Nerdy About Magic!

What's more Shadowgast than the wizards being nerds about magic? It's not surprising that this is a common theme in the ship, so here's eight fics where Caleb and Essek show their affection though magical items, help each other out with magical mishaps, and do some magical experiments. Check them out under the cut, and as always - comment or kudos if you like them!

Precision & Power by marsmystic (2475, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb have very different casting styles. One is elegant and precise, the other brimming with burning strength. Very different, but both powerful (and attractive) in their own way.

Reccer says: A look at the wizards and what it attracts them to each other (their magical genius). Beautiful writing

destructive interference by atlasarcana (141219, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek is being haunted by his past in the form of an Aeorian monster; Caleb helps him.

Reccer says: This fic has a few chapters in which Essek's nerdiness over magic is described in detail, and even a few chapters where it becomes the forefront of the plot.

We Should Explore Other Things by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (8692, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The wizards attempt to reverse engineer a spell, and Essek confronts one of the moorbounders in the room (his feelings about Caleb).

Reccer says: The "Spellcrafting as a Metaphor for Relationship Development" and "Essek Thelyss Overthinks" tags say it all

Artificer Devices from Late-Period Aeor: An Experimental Interpretation from Arcane Reconstruction to Functionality (E. Thelyss, C. Widogast) by renquise (5858, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and essek find an ancient Aeorian fuck machine. Caleb descides to recreate it.

Reccer says: Very well written sex scene, and there's so much love between the two of them.

Golden Hour by Technojuicebox (1914, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

An experiment gone wrong leads to Essek asking for Caleb's assistance, and they navigate around the elephant(s) in the room.

Reccer says: Lots of tension and pining, and a little bit of humor

when headlong might save a life by stygius (5489, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb wakes before dawn, the morning after, to find the other side of the bed empty. Meanwhile, Essek prepares breakfast, or tries to.

Reccer says: The wizards attempt to combine dunamancy and cooking - to very sweet results!

heart's ease by quinn_of_aebradore (627, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

During their honeymoon in Aeor, Caleb and Essek exchange their findings as gifts.

Reccer says: I liked it!

write a line, erase a line by hydraxx (5231, General) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Meta nerdery: this fic is framed as an in-universe textbook excerpt talking about Caleb and Essek's academic collaborations.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Want more nerdy fic? Check out our earlier reclist from January 2023!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring Older Favorites! That's any fic that has not been updated (or completed) in over two years.

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hey! Do you know any good Errormare fics? I know ‘Wayward’ and ‘At Their Mercy’, but I’m looking for more 👀

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

It's All Just Training, Right? by atomiCherry, Souldew_UT (Explicit, Complete)

Hopping from universe to universe after his own Anti-Void no longer suffices as a safe place from the chains of Fate, Error winds up in Nightmare’s Castle with none other than the God of Negativity himself, who’s far too pleased with the Destroyer’s presence. Unaware of Nightmare’s true intentions, Error finds himself taken aback by a suspicious yet remarkable deal that very few people have the courage to propose. It was meant to be a simple session, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but then the both of them find out that there might be more to their meeting than meets the eye… - updates every Tuesday and Friday

Catalyst for Concord by Somebody_OntheInternet (Mature, Incomplete)

“My ecto-o isn’t unsummoning.” He kept his gaze firmly locked on the carpet, refusing to look the other God in the eye. The tentacle in his grasp curled around his radius and ulna, and he squeezed it. There was an awful, crushing silence for a few moments, before his husband spoke: “…you don’t think..?” *----*----* After their mating cycles lined up, the "evil" Gods of Destruction and Negativity find themselves in quite the predicament. They must figure out how to balance their dangerous work with the task of ensuring their baby's development is healthy. That, and they have to ensure the Council does not find out. No matter what, Ink cannot find out.

Signed, Your Penpal by Hellsaint7w7 (General Audiences, Incomplete)

Geno and Nightmare fall in love through anonymous notes to each other and their love of books. But of course, Geno doesn’t stay Geno forever and Nightmare doesn’t handle it well.

Day 1: Teratophilia/Size Difference by Destiny_Of_A_Dragon (Explicit, Complete)

Nightmare feeds on too much Negativity and the only way Error can get them to calm down is by letting them use his body. Error felt Nightmare’s whole body shift and ripple— and couldn’t resist taking a peek over his shoulder again. The destructive Skeleton froze in a soulbeat, eye-lights shrinking as he saw the corrupted Guardian fumbling with their own pants, mind not stable enough yet to undo them properly. Eventually, the fabric tore— and Error’s eyes went wide as he saw what was underneath. S-stars, that was—! That was—! Nightmare was currently over twice his size and full to bursting with excess magic, but Error hadn’t really thought about what effect that might have on their ecto!

Chocolate Pampering by Souldew_UT (Mature, Complete)

Error succumbs to anxiously drown himself in chocolate - eating more and more every day than usual. He pays so much attention to the chocolate which eventually causes Nightmare to get stupidly jealous. Nightmare doesn't like sweets, but he likes to mess around with Error, so he takes all the chocolate away when Error is not present and hides it.

Thanks for the recommendation! The fics being recommended are…

Wayward by Queer_Sleep_Demon (Mature, Incomplete)

Error had always been in control of his teleporting abilities. He knew the ins and outs of world-hopping like the back of his hand. The joke was on him, though, because the multiverse didn't play by anybody's rules. An impulsive decision to teach Nightmare a lesson in respect went horribly wrong. As a result, Error and Nightmare become stranded in a foreign and hostile dimension. Finding a way out was easier said than done.

At Their Mercy by Devcipher (Teen And Up, Complete)

The multiverse had been perfectly balanced when the seven higher beings weaved it together. Through countless interferences, however, the balance has begun to tip, and stability is threatened. Fate's creation has been unresponsive to their warnings, and thus a solution must be made. While feuding with Destiny over a monster to be Ink's counterpart, Karma intervenes. Inspiration from Harrish6's Forced God of Destruction universe, but a unique alternate multiverse/universe of my own. Discord is constantly breaking the link for the ATM discord but: https://discord.gg/DgHWGnMNrs *EDIT: My server got raided twice please message me for a link lol* Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/devtemrys

Here's a few more fics that are similar to what you're asking for!

[voxel0id]

Hitting a bit of art block lately so I've been working on a multichapter Xuexiao fic! Currently rated T (rating may change if I am brave).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65950813

Text transcription of the summary in the image under the "keep reading" cut.

Xiao Xingchen is an ascended immortal god. He has seen the mortal cultivation world rise, fall, and rebuild countless times. Every time, one thing is the same: the fall of the cultivation world is brought on by Xue Yang, a young man with a difficult childhood, gifted with immense power but filled with rage and resentment. Determined to save the mortal world, Xiao Xingchen has been kind to every reincarnation of Xue Yang, trying to give him a life where he has no reason to cause the destruction he inevitably inflicts on the world. It never works, and the cycle always repeats. Finally, defeated and worn down, he gives up on this approach and lets fate run its course with no interference. Xue Yang is not his fault, nor his responsibility, after all.

That is, until Xue Yang ascends to heaven himself with Jiangzai in his hand and murderous intent in his eyes, determined to destroy heaven itself for forsaking him.