#he could be saying this about the most mundane thing

[yfere]

one of the things I've always found most interesting about jin guangyao as a character is that, for all of his offenses against the cultivation world, his personal vendettas, crimes, murders.... this is the only person in the series* who has enacted a systematic, successful change for the good of the common people. the watchtowers that he fought for.... that's a substantial legacy, that doesn't really mean much or merit much comment from the viewpoint characters of the series, but that I can't stop thinking about. that his vision as a chief cultivator, his political goals were, in the end, a great societal good.

We know, in the context of this world, that there is a significant problem where routine, common problems that are deadly and disastrous for normal people are simply ignored by cultivators, because it isn't prestigious enough and dealing with these issues is seen as a waste of time/too much trouble/boring. This is a world where people have to either be very rich or have something uniquely dangerous or interesting going on to have any real hope for assistance. It's exactly this sort of attitude from the cultivation world that ultimately spiraled into situations like the Wens pushing off their problems into other areas (Waterborne Abyss) instead of dealing with it themselves. The Wens weren't uniquely terrible or corrupt - no more so than many other cultivation clans would be in their position. They were symptomatic of the kinds of behavior that cultivation society in general rewarded, the visible tumor from the collected corruption of cultivation society at large. After all, this is a world where people like Lan Wangji, who "appear where the chaos is" and help irrespective of the level or complexity of the issue, are seen as morally praiseworthy but are also specifically viewed as unusual cases (when that kind of attitude... should be the norm? you'd hope for it to be the norm, and not the practice of one guy, his sect, and a handful of rogue cultivators).

Ultimately, it seems in the context of the story that while you can be a moral person as an individual, there's only so much a single hero can do (let alone legitimately) in the face of selfish human nature and a corrupt system. (You could say WWX trying to do everything by his damn self is a good part of why he was doomed to fail in his efforts to save the Wens). So here you have JGY, scheming and conniving his way into making the watchtowers happen, which to be clear *none* of the cultivation world really wanted to get mixed up in, as morally praiseworthy as the project was - because there isn't any glory to stationing yourself at a watchtower and dealing with all these mundane low level problems for commoners, is there? But he did it. The villain of the story, who ultimately gets eternal torment for his very real and awful crimes, he accomplished something enduringly good in a way that kind of spits in the faces of these individualist heroes, didn't he? which one of them could claim to have accomplished what he did?

[hanistry]

WHISKERS' RED | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fantasy au, magic au / alice in wonderland inspired au

synopsis | hyunjin knew the consequences of rejecting the queen of hearts' marriage proposal would be severe, but he didn't think it would bother her this much!

word count | 5.1k+

warning | playful illusions involving the body being twisted and turned in ways it should not

world | zero

The burst of red petals in the air was the last thing Hyunjin thought he would see. Yet, at the same time, he was not surprised to see them appear in the nick of time.

The queen must be furious to hear his rejection to her marriage proposal. He had also done it in the middle of a ballroom filled with elite guests of the kingdom. However, to be fair, she should not have been so self-assured as to propose to him in the middle of an extravagant party. 

He knew a great deal about the Queen the Hearts. Everyone does. After all, she was the queen. But he reckoned she didn’t know much about him. Even after she attempted to court him through unconventional (very unconventional) means, her knowledge of him was not enough to warrant the kind of affection she held. 

Thinking about the terrible courting process where he deadpanned his way through most of the interactions made him shiver. He tried so hard, but the queen was so absorbed in trying to impress him that all his effort to show disinterest was overlooked. 

Anybody with some sense could see that he does not love the queen and should have wisely deterred her from proposing and thinking that he would agree to marry someone at least twice his age.

It appeared that nobody in the kingdom had sense. The general public thought nothing of his dislike toward royalty when the benefit of a crown overshone his mundane opinion. After all, he need not fall in love with the queen, but how could he not fall in love with the crown?

Except Hyunjin did not fall in love with the crown. He fell in love with the young maiden who lived next door to his disdainful uncle, who he’s been forced to live with since his parents passed away, and he spent his entire teenage years pining over her. He liked to say she was the first girl to treat him kindly, conveniently forgetting that she was the first girl he had ever met.

He chose her over the queen. He will always choose her over the queen… which was only preposterous! So preposterous that the queen wanted his head for rejecting her!

“Hello, handsome!”

You had appeared from thin air—bursted from thin air, to be precise. Your signature marking of red rose petals fell elegantly onto the ground to signify the end of your untraceable teleportation. 

Hyunjin looked to you immediately and breathed out a sigh of relief. An annoying soul, but a familiar face, nonetheless. Anything would be better than the situation he got himself trapped in by uttering a kind rejection, which was hiding out in the palace maze and waiting for his eventual doom when the guards find their way to the spot he hid in.

“I see you’ve caught yourself in a bit of a fickle!” you mused, your body floating in the air with a feather’s weight. You put your face in front of his, invading his personal space. “Rejecting the queen’s marriage proposal? Now that is the kind of drama I have been dying to watch!”

It has been made abundantly clear to Hyunjin since your first encounter that his—or anybody's—misfortunes are a source of entertainment to you. Your privilege to wield an unclear amount of power, which provided you the freedom to dismiss the monarchy, has made your life a purgatory of boredom and stillness you cannot escape. You resorted to lurk through kingdoms in your usual feathery weight, finding those in misery just to get a kick out of them.

“I can’t imagine how entertaining this must be for you,” Hyunjin grumbled as he pushed your face away. 

“Indeed, you cannot! I never thought the circus will pan out this way!” you exclaimed as you spun quickly in the air before abruptly pausing with a magnificent ending pose. “You and the queen have been going on dates for weeks now! What a surprise that you turned down the proposal!”

“I was never going to accept her hand in marriage! Certainly, you realized that!” he hissed, his vine-like paranoia forcing him to continuously cast anxious glances behind his shoulders to watch out for the guards.

The corner of your mouth quirked into a widening grin. Your lower body twisted, evaporating into colored mist, leaving only your torso in the air. Leaning forward, you placed your hands under your chin to make a flower and let your dreamy eyes set atop of Hyunjin’s disheveled features. Messy brown hair and glistening sweat. A look of frustration and fear cast over his gorgeous face. 

Your endeared heart jumped! Oh, how you love his reactions to trouble! This is how all men should be—frustrated and afraid!

“Of course you don’t! It would make me so upset if you were to marry the queen,” you giggled as flew forward to poke his nose. “Keeping you single is my top priority.”

He blinked in surprise when you flicked your fingers between his eyes, then he frowned at you suspiciously.

He no longer questioned your fondness toward him. On many occasions, you have unwaveringly confessed to him your undying love for his beautiful face. Sweet and romantic words have flown out of your mouth like waterfalls, and they have only ever been for his beautiful face. Everyone in the kingdom knows that you have an honest tongue, so your praise and admiration for his looks must hold some truth to them.

Those were not grounds for him to believe you were genuinely in love with him. Besides, Hyunjin never believed their affection was genuine due to your erratic behavior. You were too playful, mysterious, and self-centered to devote yourself to another person. You already do not look out for yourself and look out even less for others. There was no way you could fall in love. Your affection for him has to be an ongoing joke in their immortal schedule.

“I am in love with someone else,” Hyunjin mentioned after your comment. There was a scowl on his face.

Your smile did not fade. You already knew that.

Before you could reply, you flew around his head when you heard the rattling of armors, your eyes twinkling with delight as the guards approached in groups. You grinned at the horrid expression he made before his feet began to scramble to bring him further into the maze.

“Looks like we should get out of here first before we continue our conversation!” you said, flying in front of him.

Hyunjin huffed in fear, his head turning to look behind him. The thought of being captured and having to explain to the queen his decision clouded his mind like poison he would willingly drink just so he could avoid that responsibility.

“I don’t know what you are doing here, genuinely,” he said through gritted teeth. “But unless you are planning to help, there is no ‘we’ here! It is just me!”

“Now, now, Hyunjin. I am not so heartless as to leave you in this mess alone!” You shook your head just as your torso vanished, leaving only your head turning in circles like an owl would turn their neck. “I know just the way out of this maze.”

“The queen must have ordered the guards to wait by the exit for me!” he sputtered out, then he grimaced. “Also, can you not do the cheshire cat thing with your human head!”

“Awe, why? It’s fun and it makes me even more weightless with only my head in the air,” you whined, bouncing your head in the air as if it was a ball walking down a flight of stairs.

You could hear the voices of the guards now. Their armors rubbed against each other as they ran, hoping to find the poor boy whom the queen has taken a liking toward. How unfortunate that such unpleasant sound would overshadow the orchestra performing at the ball tonight.

“Oh no–look, Y/N.” Hyunjin stopped to turn around, his ears drowning with the pitter-patter of steps. He turned to them, his hands gripping their shoulders, which appeared when he aimed for it confidently. His widened eyes were harsh and determined, much unlike what you were used to seeing on him. “Just get me out of here!” 

You cooed at the way his hair flung over his face, your eyes shining with endearment at how he managed to maintain an air of prettiness even in such a stressful situation. He did not look appreciative of your reaction at all as he gripped your shoulders harder, borderline giving you a shove, and he glared at you to take his life seriously.

“Since you asked so frantically, I will spare you–” you released yourself from his grasp and popped one of your arms off, swinging it in the air like a flag, “–a help hand!"

“Y/N!”

“Okay, okay! I already told you I know the way out of this maze,” you said with a roll of your eyes before you tapped your chin, ignoring the ever-growing sound of footsteps. You spun around, scanning almost every nook and cranny of the maze. There was nothing to look at besides tall bushes and the sky. “Hmm… let me think. I waltzed into the maze once and planted a secret exit, but that was some time ago. If my memory serves me correctly, it should be around a corner somewhere…”

“Y/N! Are you serious?”

“There he is! We found him!”

Hyunjin cursed under his breath at the booming voice. He would be surrounded soon if he does not make a run for it, but whichever way of the maze was he supposed to go? What if he gets trapped in a dead-end? You released a hand from your chin and tilted your head, smiling upon seeing a group of unfamiliar faces.

“Greetings, everyone!” You waved with your detached arm. When you received no heartfelt welcome in return, you sighed. “The queen can’t seriously still be mad about what I did to the garden? That was at least twenty years ago!”

The guards were taken back when they noticed your presence. 

“He is with cheshire’s descendant! Everyone be careful!”

You grinned as you huffed out a few breaths of laughter. What glorious reputation you and yours ancestors have cultivated that the royal guards have to set aside their objective to be alarmed with your presence. It was wise to pay extra attention to them, but not too much so they would neglect their surroundings because who knew what you would do?

Not even you knew what you would do sometimes. It was all so spontaneous! Sometimes, you spread rumors and gossip, which is all in good fun, no matter the minor consequences. Sometimes, you plant insects and bombs in flowers, which is still all in good fun, no matter the deadly consequences.

“Tough crowd! You people are worse than hecklers!” you complained playfully as you flew over to Hyunjin. "Fortunately for me, I ran out of jokes to tell."

Hyunjin froze when he felt legs settle over his shoulders. You had sat yourself on them, your body shrunk to that of a child so you could sit upon him without being out of place or too heavy for him to handle. Putting your hands on his cheeks, you pulled at him and giggled. 

“I and my side-kick are going to take our leave.” Reaching your hand up in the air, you smiled widely and yelled at the top of your lungs, “Ladies and gentleman! Have a fantastic night and you will see me again when I allow you to!”

Hyunjin was unsure what had happened but turned around and began running when he saw fireworks bursting amid the knights. You laughed maniacally above him. Your eyes were ablaze as the wind blew against them in this thrilling moment, and you remembered briefly why you existed. 

“Y/N! I don’t know what it is that you did but please, don’t kill anyone!”

When Hyunjin saw you again, you were no longer sitting on his shoulders but flying alongside him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in acknowledgment instead of shock. He has known you long enough to predict some of your antics, he believed, and this one he liked to claim as loyalty. No matter what, if you start something with someone, you will stick with them until the end.

Hence, you were still here with him during this escape. Or perhaps it was only because you liked him more than anyone else.

“You are giving me an awful lot of orders, Hyunjin,” you grumbled as you leaned close to him. The faux grimace on your face vanished as quickly as the wind and was replaced with your usual playful smile. “Have you finally learned how to use my affection to your advantage?”

He pulled a face. He tried to yell over the wind even though he wasn’t running very fast anymore. “I am already in love with someone else!”

You laughed, feeling equally as dismissive of his statement as any other time he’s announced it to you. You flew ahead of him and threw your hands up. Confetti released from your palms as if his affection for another was something worth congratulating.

“There is still a lot you don’t know about the Cheshire family, Hyunjin!”

The first thing being that every Cheshire descendant has a mate, a second soul, a linkage—a Hatta. Every Cheshire descendant has a Hatta whom they answer to, whom they devote themselves to, whom they love.

Your Hatta is Hyunjin.

The metal lock shattered with a flick of your wrist. Hyunjin stumbled toward you in a frenzy when the dungeon cell opened.

“Yeji! Yeji! My sister, they–the queen has my sister!” he uttered, his eyes wide with a discerning frown. 

Hyunjin clutched their shirt collar, frightened, and rushed for his beloved little sister more than his own safety. As his hair bounced with his animated movement, you could faintly notice a bruise near the corner of his eye. 

Either way, his need to pester you about Yeji immediately was not lost on you. He knew you would save him and only him unless it was otherwise stated that you had to prioritize another. You liked Yeji. She was an amazing daughter, a welcoming step-sister, and a lovely friend. However, no matter your relationship with her, it was not within your godly obligation to help her when she is in trouble, nor were you compelled to save her life.

You are only bound to Hyunjin, your Hatta. You only answer to him. If an emergency calls for it, the world can die with your sins.

Hyunjin has grown to understand that very well. He was finally utilizing his status, finally learning. Pestering you about his little sister forced you to also take care of her, making it impossible for you to abandon her after saving him, which he knew you would do no matter the consequences.

“I already knew they took you both,” you said, suppressing the jittery happiness in you. “I was watching you guys get taken from the tree in the backyard.” 

He slowed down, the grip on your collar loosening as he processed your word. “You were watching us?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod as you ran your hand through his disheveled hair. He didn’t flinch away, but you knew it was from shock and nothing else. “I didn’t feel like helping and you didn’t order me to.” 

You soothed your hand down the back of his head before gently brushing his fringes away to examine the bruise better. Depending on how much they destroyed his pretty face, how bothersome you would be soon in the courtroom. Judging by the fading purple, he wasn’t too hurt. You didn’t think he would be; the queen loved his pretty face as much as you did. But, regardless, you decided you were going to be as mischievous as you wanted.

“Do you want me to save her?” you asked, pushing his gloomy face up with your hands, squishing his cheeks together.

His grievances with you neglecting him and watching him and his sister’s misery for entertainment have mostly vanished. It was just the kind of thing you would do, so he wasn’t sure why he even felt annoyed by it in the first place. Besides, as long as you manage to rescue Yeji from the queen’s wrath, he would pretend nothing ever happened. Just like he has been doing. 

He nodded, a look of relief rushing over him. He was let off easier because the queen was in love with him, but Yeji was much less fortunate. A pretty face and a youthful soul could never fend well in the palace, for the envious queen was not pretty, youthful, or in love. She was dragged away last night when the guards found out she has been eating Hyunjin’s share of food, and he has not heard of her since. Not even her screams or moans. Just silence.

It has been a long, frustrating three days in the dungeon. Truth be told, he had been surprised it took you longer than a few hours to come to his rescue. Knowing you were there when he was taken from his home, he wasn’t so much surprised but rather confused. He figured he should throw that away too. Being confused about your actions would garner him a lifetime of confusion, but there would never be an answer. 

“Yes. Please save my sister,” he said. “I command you to save her.”

The golden glow in your eyes shone only for a moment. Your first ever official Hatta command!

Hyunjin has learned the first time it happened that the glow was akin to the act of signing a contract, or the act of your priorities shifting. It is a promise. When the gold shines in your eyes, vanishing and blinking as the legacy of the original Cheshire Cat, it means you would only stop until the command is fulfilled.

“Okey-dokey!” You stepped back and gave him a courtesy, then you stood up and tapped his shoulder twice. “You just wait at the Cheshire House for me. I will bring your sister along in no time!”

He looked confused. The Cheshire House? He has never heard of such a place. Could it be near the Looking Glass or could it be hidden somewhere in Hearts that he never knew of? It would not be surprising if he never knew of it. He was just a staple boy, after all. He had not the rich to spend on extravagant vacations.

“The what?”

You smiled at him fondly, squeezing his cheeks and cooing at how adorable his confusion appeared. He didn’t have the sense to swat your hand away as he usually would, he only looked on this time, waiting for an explanation. But you gave him nothing of satisfaction, only the sound of a foreign name.

“Minho.”

Within a second, Hyunjin vanished out of existence in a wrap.

The queen was furious when you appeared in court.

Emerging in a fit of red rose petals, you made your presence known amongst the council and the throne. You had appeared at the center of the courtroom where Yeji was being held captive. Within a blink of an eye, you snatched the girl away from the knight from the Spade Section, which meant he was an executioner!

You mirrored the card’s shocked expression before sticking your tongue out at him while holding Yeji to your chest and ignoring the way she gasped in shock. Whether it came from the proximity of you both or the fact that you blatantly disrespected a royal guard, you have no idea.

“Who dares to interrupt the morning court?”

“Oh, here we go,” you sang under your breath with a quirk of your brows upon the queen’s roar. Turning to face the throne, you bowed to the Queen of Hearts and her goofy, useless husband. “Greetings, your majesties! I hope you are having a much blessed morning!”

The king bounced in his seat with wondrous stupidity, one which you admired to the extent that you would always be applauded under his attention. He was easy to entertain and he hasn’t much standard, considering he stayed with the stubborn queen who was only once beautiful inside and out.

“Good morning to you too, Cheshire’s descendant!” the king exclaimed as his clumsy arm waved.

You flashed him a lovely smile, sparkles radiating off the side of your face as if you were a cartoon character. It only made him happier to see the cheerful illusion. 

The queen scoffed on her throne and ignored her husband’s reaction. “One can never have a blessed morning with you intruding my court.”

Stifling a fake gasp, you covered your mouth and leaned your head on Yeji’s shoulder, sobbing into her clothes with big, chunky tears that disappeared in the air as they fell, never once staining the carpet beneath your feet. “Oh, Yeji, whatever should I do now? The queen hates me!”

“You have my prisoner.”

“Yes, I do!” You released Yeji with a grin and clapped excitedly. 

With a confused and somewhat frightened expression, Yeji got shoved to the front before a string of confetti bounced off the top of her head. They latched onto her red braids and farmer dress after appearing with a ‘pop!’ that startled her.

“I present to you, Hwang Yeji!” you announced after walking up next to her and presenting her as if she were standing in a dark room in a spotlight. You could present a spotlight, but the courtroom was too bright, and you didn’t feel like making the effort to darken the room. “Hwang Hyunjin’s beloved little sister, as well as an innocent prisoner taken in because the Queen of Hearts wanted to commit a crime of passion–”

Your voice dragged on the last syllable of the word ‘passion’ as your body wrapped into nothing. Not a second later, like a boomerang, your voice echoed through all corners of the courtroom in a circle, finishing with the vocabulary. The council members, all animals, looked around in hopes of catching a glimpse of you, but their effort was to no avail.

A turtle ducked his head into its shell, leaving only his glasses perched at the entrance. An owl turned her head in a circle and sprung back around quickly, feathers flying off her body. The horse’s nostrils flared when she felt a breeze rush past her neck, blowing away the papers on her desk.

You reappeared with a loud gasp. When you were visible again, you were by the queen’s side, intruding on her personal space. Unlike your original attire, your new outfit matched that of the council members: something sophisticated and unnecessary. It took a minute for everyone to notice the naked rabbit hiding in the corner of the courtroom—you had taken his clothes, which appeared to be the Spokesman’s uniform.

“Would the queen like to comment on the matter?”

“My queen, our dearest queen?”

“For the Hearts Morning Post, my queen, would you like to give an answer to why Hwang Yeji was arrested?”

“My queen, please look over here for the headline picture!”

“Gossip! Gossip! Gossip!”

“On a scale of white to red, how relevant is Yeji’s arrest related to her brother’s rejection of the marriage proposal?”

Lights flashed, and questions were fired left and right by the numerous clones of yourself made to look like a group of paparazzi interrogating the queen. You have given each clone a different voice to make them appear as other people. However, instead of appearing altogether, you flashed from here to there at an immeasurable speed while confusing the queen by continuously throwing camera flashes at her face.

“I command you to stop at this instant!”

You did. You stopped before her, your eyes gleaming with such ridiculous enjoyment that the queen had to question whether your mind had been taken away by the purple-stripe mushrooms in the forests. But she knew for a fact that you were sane. Insanity was the Mad Hatter’s legacy, spontaneity the Cheshire Cat’s.

Both of which were a hindrance to her ruling of the kingdom.

“My queen! Such generous volume in your voice, you almost blew me away!”

“Shut your mouth, Cheshire.”

“That is my ancestor’s name, Iracebeth,” you mused, not so much because you were bothered by her choice of names. You tilted your head. It went around like a clock’s hand as your pupils dilated until it covered all surface of your eyes. “I don’t go around calling you by your mother’s name, do I?”

Her face flushed with red. Your eyes returned normal quickly and you raised your eyebrows. Stepping back, your stood straight and in silence before you suddenly began to mirror her appearance by turning your head into the shade of a tomato. She only fumed more when she realized you were mocking her anger.

“You insolent brat! How dare you! I am to be addressed with the utmost respect or I will have your head chopped off!”

The redness stayed on your face as you wheezed at the sheer arrogance of her statement. You threw your head back and thrashed your torso about as you laughed, your laughter causing your head to slowly inflate like a balloon. Incredible! The queen is a stuck-up bonehead who does not understand the absolute Law of Fate! 

There was a loud crack when you twisted your neck. You froze, the departure of your boisterous laughter leaving the air with a sudden, unfamiliar dryness. Yeji whipped around to find your body crumbled to the ground, and she stayed frozen at her spot as she watched your head detach from your neck and float up to play in a merry-go-round. She knew you could do that, but like her brother, she could never get used to seeing no blood in a human body.

“Get my head chopped off like this?” you asked, the arm of your fallen body raising and waving. “A very clean cut! Are you sure your executioner can manage that?”

The queen huffed at your mockery. She raised her chin at you, a desperate attempt to exert authority. “The executioner will do anything I ask, which is to behead you, Cheshire poison.”

The merry-go-round stopped and vanished into soft glitter. You stood up from the ground, your head reattached to your body. When you gathered yourself, you stared at her for a belated moment, then you relaxed into yourself. 

You would give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she didn’t know the Law of Fate rather than thinking she could defy it with the crown on her head. Perhaps she had no idea that no mortals other than a Hatta could kill a Cheshire. It was not your confidence speaking, it was a rule written by Fate, the Cheshire Cat’s first wife.

Anyone born into the Cheshire bloodline could only die when the Hatta allowed them to. It was why any action with malice intent—unless made by their Hatta or another Cheshire descendant—would fly right through a body like yours. That fact was mostly known to the long lines of descendants and their Hattas, but some people have read them from books or heard them from folktales, too.

“You cannot do that, my queen,” you explained with a bright smile. “You cannot have my head. Only Hyunjin can.”

“Nonsense! I can do whatever I want!” she hollered at your blatant disobedience. “I am the queen!”

You blinked, even more surprised by her ignorance and confidence now. Even though you liked to abuse the Cheshire power you possessed, something about the way the queen screamed of her identity made your skin itch in dismay. So much confidence for someone who knew only what they were allowed to know.

This was not the Iracebeth your family told you about. This was not the girl with a fairytale and flowers. This was not the girl in love with a boy who died. That girl was no longer. She has become the Queen of Hearts.

“Yes, you are the queen.” You nodded, then you stared straight into her eyes. “You are also only a queen.”

“I am unsure how you have become this way, Your Majesty,” you continued after a moment of silence. “But I am here to assure you that you have no authority to treat people the way you do.”

She squinted her eyes at you. “You know nothing of what i have been through.”

“That is never the point. Whatever tragic past you have, you do not own the monopoly in human suffering,” you said. “Contrary to your desired belief, you do not have it worse, Your Majesty. Those who do don’t turn out like you.”

“That’s enough!” She slammed her hands on the armrests of her throne and stood up. She pointed an accusing finger at you and spat, “Off with their heads! Both of them!”

Yeji stumbled back in fear at the command. She shook her head when the guards closed in on her and screamed when you tapped her shoulder. You flashed her a judgemental grimace and pulled her close to you. You raised your hand and flicked your wrists, your eyes glowing the Cheshire gold before a force field activated around the room.

The knights continued to run but were making no progress, cursed to be stuck running in the same spot repeatedly to reach an unreachable destination. They looked ridiculous with their spears and moving legs.

“You majesty, have I not mentioned that you cannot have my head?” you asked rhetorically, sighing at her as the venom in you eased back into your usual playful self. “Your knights can’t even get close to me.”

She looked baffled. She tried barking at the soldiers to run faster, but with another twist of your hand, they were rendered back to square one again. She whipped her head, her crown stuck on top, and back to you when no one else had the answer.

“You cheshire poison! What are you doing to my guards?”

“Nothing,” you replied, wiggling your finger with a giggle before you settled down. You wafted your hand near Yeji’s red braids and watched as her hair undone itself, setting them straight and messy the way the girl woke up. “This is my Cheshire talent. I control time.”

The queen gulped when you eyed her purposefully.

You knew. You knew that she was surprised because time was not what she thought it would look like, because you were exactly what she had been looking for because, after all the screams and shouts, you were the person she had to look to if she ever wanted to revive her lost love.

The boy who once went all out for her. The boy who died for her. The boy named Christopher.

[noneatnonedotcom]

demi xander au episode ideas

season 1, while xander has kept his name out of the papers for the most part it should be noted that he's been a vampire hunter for effectively 5 years and his curse of living in interesting times plus his stronger scent means that until buffy showed up he was the center of a lot of bullshit going on in sunnydale. for season 1 i'd probably have the revilation that xander's been fighting vamps since he was about ten be slowly revealed with willow and Giles doing the uncovering as they see some of the more mundane things he's done. recovering stolen items for museums tracking down thieves dealing with "violent gangs" it should paint the picture of a vet of dealing with vampires but still being limited in his abilities.

beyond that i think you'd get like 2 episodes extra focusing on the "tragic backstory TM" of xander perfectly normal human vampire hunter. with the mystery of what he was doing and why deaths pre buffy were so low being a background thing.

i'd also probably add in an episode showing xander's taking over buffy's "shift" so she has more time to hang with willow and be a normal teenaged girl. overall with xander hiding aspects of himself in season 1 it's more about the mystery surrounding him happening in the background.

season two

with the death of the master normal vampires are kinda missing, xander's going insane with peace and is starting to get twitchy. episode where xander is revealed to be sleeping with several older women in sunnydale buffy and willow are jealous for some strange reason except willow she knows why she's jealous. xander almost gets eaten by the mantis demon, but since he's not a virgin buffy and willow save him before he has to reveal his skills. Giles and Xander bond in a father son moment, something rare after the issue with the hyena spirit being fought off by him. Giles poor choice of words when trying to figure out how xander did that made xander worried Giles was going to dig too deep and decide xander was close enough to a demon. because Giles is under the impression that Xander was just a normal human child going though the whole vampire hunter thing they actually have a heart to heart about how difficult it was for both of them to be warriors when no one around them could really know.

xander is seen around town with a gaggle of preteen and younger girls. buffy and willow assume the worst but are even more confused when they find out that these kids he's been hanging around with are his "half siblings" and xander tells them that he's a bastard

xander's siblings really like buffy and willow and wanna get them hooked up, they might have used some love mojo and conspired to have xander actually dress nicely for once right when the girls come by. xander has to explain to the other demigods that he's trying to find people who like him independent of his divine blessings. they head back to camp half blood after this.

xander starts dating cordelia and it's right when buffy needed his support with the whole angel thing. angle keeps taunting buffy saying that xander isn't what she thinks he is.

while trying to get buffy's mind off of angel willow takes the group to the beach for a day, a little mini vacation that xander manages to get the okay for from Giles, by explaining that he can have some "co workers" keep things safe for a weekend. giles doesn't know that his co workers are kids of Ares who are spoiling for a fight and needed an enemy they could blow steam off on. but the news that a patrol of demigods is on the hunt keeps angelus and co laying low till the slayer comes back.

meanwhile at the beach buffy catches xander shirtless and realizes that while he's built like a greek god he's also more scars than skin. giles and willow tell their version of xander's backstory and we get an over the top story about normal vampire hunter xander in a gritty urban fantasy setting with neo noir vibes.

that's all i got for now. any suggestions for xander focused episodes or background plots? keep in mind my goal is to keep buffy as the main character, xander's just the goofy best friend who seems to have a history

@weatherman667 beyond ideas for episodes i never decided what greek or roman god would be after xander and causing problems for him in an attempt to make xander theirs. suggestions would be helpful :) @heliosthegriffin i know you haven't watched buffy but still let me know what you'd do for episodes

[deathfavor]

" Those who do not dare to question are bound to remain ignorant. "

[catenary-chad]

the Starlight Express Alumni Podcast is fascinating because you have

-multiple stories of people accidentally falling into roles that suit them perfectly, in very different ways

-Reva Rice basically never got hurt and one of the only times she did was OFF SKATES when she fell down the stairs

-Dolan Jose REALLY wanting to cover the “girl components” and being SO excited to at least be Wrench

-the mental image of a 6’6 Vegas Showgirl looking guy as a couples therapist

-the perpetual challenge of casting Poppas lol this constantly comes up in different Stex interviews

[geneviveleocardius]

some husband material headcanons with simon riley

late-night garage dances are his quiet way of loving you. when the house is quiet and you’re both waiting for your daughter to get home from a party, he’ll pull you into a slow dance. he doesn’t say much, just rests his chin on your head as the two of you sway to soft music in the dim light.

if you’re too tired to shower, he’ll gently coax you into letting him wash your hair. his hands are rough but so careful, massaging your scalp in a way that makes your shoulders relax instantly.

when you’re at the beach, you trace your name on his back with sunscreen, leaving the rest bare. later, when the tan sets in and your name is etched on his skin, he looks at it in the mirror and smirks. he loves the quiet claim you have on him, even if he pretends to roll his eyes when you point it out.

simon takes his time applying sunscreen to you at the beach, even though he could be quick about it. he’s meticulous, rubbing it in gently over your shoulders and back, making sure you don’t miss a spot. “can’t have you burning, love,” he says softly. he always uses it as an excuse to trail his fingers along your skin, a subtle moment of affection.

he’s big on touch, even if he doesn’t always initiate it. his favorite moments are when you lay your head on his chest at night and trace the scars on his arms. he doesn’t always talk about them, but he likes the way you don’t shy away from them either.

he’s the kind of dad who stays up until he hears the door click after a late night out. he’ll mutter about the time under his breath, but he softens immediately when your daughter leans in to give him a quick hug before heading to bed.

if he hears you sigh in frustration while cooking or doing something around the house, he’ll quietly walk over, take whatever you’re holding, and finish the job without a word.

he doesn’t say it often, but he loves being domestic with you. folding laundry, fixing things around the house, or even grocery shopping together is calming for him.

simon keeps a picture of the two of you tucked in his wallet—a candid photo of you laughing. when he’s away, he takes it out to remind himself what’s waiting for him back home.

he’ll let you put ridiculous face masks on him during a lazy evening, even though he grumbles about it. “this better not make me smell like a bloody fruit salad,” he mutters, but he stays still for you.

he’s terrible at hiding his smile when he hears you laugh. even in the most mundane moments, your happiness is his favorite sound.

sometimes, he’ll sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway you gently to a song only he can hear.

if your child ever talks back to you or says something disrespectful, simon doesn’t let it slide for a second. his voice is calm but firm as he says, “that’s your mum you’re speaking to. apologize—now.” he rarely raises his voice, but the weight behind his words is enough to make them realize they’ve crossed a line. later, he’ll sit down with them, explaining why respect is non-negotiable. “she does everything for us. you don’t ever treat her like that, understood?”

when you have surgery, simon steps into full caregiver mode, even though it’s not something he’s entirely used to. he carefully helps you into the bath, always making sure you’re comfortable and secure. his touch is gentle as he washes you, murmuring, “tell me if anything hurts.”

he dries your hair after the bath, combing it slowly so it doesn’t tangle. “you’re still as gorgeous as ever,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

he insists on carrying you to bed, even if you tell him you can walk. “don’t argue with me, love. you’re meant to rest.” he tucks you in, makes sure you have everything you need, and stays close by in case you need him during the night.

simon takes every opportunity to teach your child the importance of kindness, especially toward you. he models this by being gentle with you, always showing them how love and respect are expressed.

he’s a firm dad, but never unfair. when he has to scold your child, he always makes sure they understand why their behavior was wrong, but he’s quick to reassure them that he loves them no matter what.

during your recovery from surgery, simon takes over all the household duties. he’s not a great cook, but he’ll follow recipes to the letter to make sure you’re well-fed. when something doesn’t turn out quite right, he mutters, “bloody hell,” but doesn’t stop trying.

[pellucid-constellations]

I Have A Feeling You Got Everything You Wanted

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Falling in love with Azriel had never been in the cards. Falling in love with anyone other than the husband your father appointed to you had always been a far-fetched notion. And that was a truth you had lived by. 10 years ago.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Yearning, pining, all that is longing and angst and exes to lovers <3

a/n: Guys I adored writing this so I hope you love it!! Inspired by 'We Hug Now' by Sydney Rose. I so so appreciate hearing what you think. Thank you for reading!!

Read the continuation of Warren's story here

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

You fiddled with the ring on your finger, passing it over your knuckle and twisting it back down. 

Your stomach hurt, pain and nausea mingling with such severity you feared you would be sick. The thought was comical, in a way. The company at the table would be so concerned over their dresses and the obscenely expensive tablecloth that you could probably sneak away. But that would still be a feat considering the heavy palm resting on your thigh. 

Warren was a nice man. He fulfilled his duties as the man you were to marry with dutiful purpose. He learned your favorite foods, how you liked your tea in the morning, and the shops you frequented. He touched you kindly, respectfully, and he was always nice to your friends. He was nice. But you were not in love with him. 

In Warren’s defense, you were never going to be in love with him. Your father had decided that you should be, however, so you were promised to him from a young age. That was typical of the high fae with your family’s rank, and you had evaded that duty for some time now. Your father had given into your whims for several years, allowing you to “galavant around”, as he would say, acting as the Winter Court’s emissary until Warren’s family grew impatient. 

Your return to Winter had been met with immediate wedding planning. You had been called upon for floral arrangements and the menu and to finalize the color scheme. Warren had done his best to quell his incessant mother’s demands, but the wedding was a court affair and everyone was thrilled. 

Well, most were. 

Before you had stepped foot in the Night Court ten years ago, you had been indifferent about the wedding. Sure, it wasn’t optimal to have to marry a man you knew so little about, but it had been an expectation since your birth. Warren may not have been your choice, but he was certainly not the worst choice when compared to the other eligible bachelors in the pool. You had left to act as emissary with a gentle begrudging that cared little for the future. 

You had returned with so much indescribable longing that you had trouble speaking to others. 

Every decision you made was accompanied by an inundating weight that threatened to crush you. You chose daisies for the aisle and you thought of him. You wore that ridiculous wedding dress with the high neck and drapey sleeves and you remembered how he used to touch you. You sat at this dinner, celebrating the joining of two families, and you reminisced on how it felt to sit with him, with his family, and to feel that you belonged somewhere. 

The urge to be sick persisted as your future mother-in-law hoisted her glass in the air, bubbles losing weight and flying up to the rim. 

It was cruel—all the mundane things that reminded you of him. 

“To my son,” Warren’s mother toasted, white furs puffing around her cheeks. “And his new bride-to-be. We are overjoyed that the long-awaited day meets us!” 

You gritted through your smile, raising your glass to your lips. The edge hit your teeth and the sound of the impact vibrated your brain. 

“Oops,” you giggled, the splattering of fae wine against cobblestone suddenly hilarious. “Who did that?” 

“I believe you are the only one in this alleyway, my love.” Azriel’s smooth voice sent a pleasant warmth up your spine. 

You whirled around, night air kissing your bare shoulders. It felt electric when accompanied by Azriel’s adoring smile—addicting. 

“You followed me,” you mused, curling your glass into your chest and stepping closer to the Shadowsinger. 

Azriel met your steps without pause. “Of course I did.” You smiled at him, light and airy. He brought soft fingers up to brush along your face as he asked, “Are you alright?” 

“More than alright,” you were quick to reply. “Just needed some air. It gets so hot in there.” 

He hummed, eyes tracing over your features. “Want to go home?” 

“I feel that Mor would be angry with me.” 

“She would only be angry for a day. Buy her those shoes she was eyeing.” 

“And why should I choose to go home with you?” 

Azriel pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. He moved back, only an inch, and whispered, “Come with me and you’ll find out.” 

“That reminds me of when Warren climbed that icy tree in the courtyard. Oh, what a silly child he was!” A boisterous aunt clapped her hands as she shouted, snapping you out of the memory with a small jump. 

Your chest ached as you breathed out a laugh and rejoined the table. 

Beside you, Warren chuckled, his hand brushing lightly near your knee. “Please, do not bring up anything I’ve done before the age of twenty,” he pleaded. His eyes shone their pretty blues. His hair looked enticingly soft. “I don’t need y/n to have those images in her mind.” 

He turned slightly, flashing you a small smile that spelled marital secrets and private conversations through eyes. 

Where you should have felt the lightness of new love elating you, buzzing at your skin, you felt the increasing urge to cry. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t cry. You hadn’t cried since the night you left him. 

“I’m sure it would only make you that much more endearing,” you teased, swallowing hard when Warren took your words as an opening to dive into a tale of the past. 

He didn’t deserve this, in all honesty. 

Warren was a nice man. 

But Azriel— 

“You are so beautiful.” 

“You’re supposed to be watching, Az,” you admonished, tucking your face into his arm to hide the heat on your face.

“I am watching,” he argued. He leaned down, your back pressed to his chest, and kissed the skin above your ear.

“Not me. The stars,” you clarified. 

You tilted your head slightly, meeting the crook of his elbow where it rounded your shoulders. He kissed you again and again, mapping out the top of your head with the delicate pecks. You laughed and that only egged him on. He turned you and pressed you back until your spine met the railing of the balcony, and then he was kissing your cheeks and your temple—the bridge of your nose and your brow. 

“Azriel,” you tried again, but his smile was against your skin and he wasn’t listening. “You’re missing Starfall!” 

“I can see it next year,” he murmured against you.

“And you can kiss me whenever you want.” 

He paused, pulling back to catch your eyes. You smiled, confused at the serious moment in the otherwise light mood. He had no response to your confusion, only leaning back in to brush his nose against yours. 

Maybe he had known. 

You had foolishly thought this all to be avoidable, figuring your father would understand that you had found happiness. That he would have cared and given up on this unwanted marriage. 

He hadn’t.

“Isn’t that right?” 

You blinked, turning to your fiance with a haze in your eyes.

You hadn’t been listening. 

The cake on your plate was becoming stale, its untouched state starkly contrasted with the empty glass of champagne to the left. You pulled your lips into a line, searching Warren’s encouraging eyes as he tried to help you. It didn’t work; you had no idea where the conversation was left. 

“I’m sorry,” you bluntly stated, voice turned up into the posh tone your father had ingrained in you. You turned to address the table. “I seem to have been lost in my head. I didn’t sleep very well last night. Catch me up?” 

Warren gave your knee a fond squeeze before removing his hand to place it on the back of your chair. He leaned down slightly, his voice lowering as he offered a gentle excuse for you. She has been so incredibly busy, he offered warmly, she’ll be even busier when the wedding is over. 

You felt as if you were underwater. Your face lit up with another asinine smile and it was difficult to breathe. Not because you weren’t used to this setting—not because Warren was a bad man. This was supposed to be your life. This was what you were supposed to be doing. 

There had never been any indication of a different path.

“I love you.” 

You whipped your head to the side, abandoning the sketchbook in your lap as your charcoal rolled into the seat cushions. 

“What?” 

Azriel smiled. He leaned over the pillow separating you, tucking your knees further into your chest as he closed the space on the loveseat. “I said I love you,” he repeated, breath fanning over your lips. “I’ve told you before, but you haven’t heard me.” 

You let out an incredulous huff of laughter, your gaze bouncing between both of his eyes. “When? I don’t remember that.” 

“At the Sidra yesterday. Last week at the shops. Three days ago when you fell asleep on me.” 

“No, you didn’t! I would have remembered.” 

Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear and left his hand resting on your cheek. “You are often oblivious to your surroundings, my love. Especially when something is interesting in front of you like fish or jewels.” 

You scoffed. “Not true. My father made sure I was very observant. My tutor would smack the back of my neck any time I got distracted.” 

Azriel tutted, disapproval darkening his eyes as he brushed his scarred hand to cup the back of your neck. He shifted on the loveseat so you were sat on his lap, his other hand finding a home on the side of your thighs. 

“That is cruel,” Azriel remarked. “Being distracted is in your nature. I don’t know if there is a time you are not distracted.” 

“There are many interesting things to look at,” you mused, humming as his fingers inched up your scalp. 

“I’m sure.” A pause. Azriel had the gall to look unsure. “You do not have to love me back.” 

Your posture stiffened, the words leaving you before you could consider them. “I love you, Azriel. I love you, too.” 

He seemed to slump against you at that, tension you didn’t know was there leaving his body. He offered you a warm smile and then kissed you—and kissed you and kissed you. 

It had seemed like there was another path. 

“If you’ll excuse us,” Warren announced to the table. A musician had begun to play the harp in the corner of the restaurant. “My bride and I have much to discuss tonight so we must retire. Please, continue to enjoy the night.” 

Confused and disoriented, you took his gloved hand in yours and said goodbye to the correct people. You weren’t supposed to be the first to leave. This was your rehearsal dinner. 

Warren guided you into the winding hall, his grip soft and reassuring. You attempted not to trip on your dress as you went, your head throbbing with an invisible pain that seemed to linger these months back in Winter. 

It had been months without seeing him. 

You were getting married the next day.

It would be final then. 

The first step outside the restaurant was both invigorating and unpleasant, the cold air assaulting your senses. It did the job of snapping you out of your thoughts, but then you were left standing in the snow before Warren, and that was a similar form of torture. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he prompted, tugging your cloak over your shoulders. You had missed him grabbing it from the coat check. “You’ve been off since you returned but it’s worse tonight.” 

Warren had known you peripherally before you left for the Night Court. You were to be married, so he made it a point to at least meet you before you were gone. He had not known you would be gone for years, but neither had you. The last time you spoke to Warren before you had met Azriel, a wilted salad sat between him and your father, the pair discussing politics and import prices. 

Warren would not have known something was wrong, he hardly knew you, but he did anyway. Because he had made it a point to be a good husband. 

That’s what made this even more tortuous. 

Maybe, if he were terrible, it would be easy. 

Your chin wobbled for a moment of breath. You’d pass it off as a chill. 

“Nothing is wrong,” you smiled, cheeks already stiff from the cold. “I didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”

Warren closed his eyes, breath a white puff before him. “Don’t lie.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not!”

Azriel tugged his hand through his hair. His face was flushed, feet taking him in a disorganized line around the room. “You are engaged.” 

“Not by choice. I don’t know him, not really. I could tell my father—” 

“You would be shunned—cut off. I know how noble families are, y/n.” 

The use of your name struck you, a stark contrast to the soft, endearing terms Azriel so loved to use around you. You flinched unconsciously, eyes darting around his room to find some sort of explanation for this. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” you urged. You remained rooted in the doorway, unable to move. “I’d stay here. I wouldn’t go back.” 

“You would leave your family? Your… fiancé?” Azriel spit out the last word. The crumbled missive crinkled in your hand as you clutched it tighter. 

“I would do anything to be with you.” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t make this my decision.” 

The paper fell from your fingers. You brought your palm to your chest, ignoring the harshness of his tone. “No, I know. This isn’t—this is my choice, Azriel. I want to stay here. To be with you.” 

“I can’t be the reason you abandon your family. Your responsibilities. You—You lied, y/n. You never told me about any of this,” Azriel bit out, hands curled into fists. 

“I’m sorry! I wanted to—I did—but I was so afraid you would be angry. And then I fell in love with you and—” 

Azriel held his hand up, abruptly stopping your teary explanation. His chest visibility heaved. “You should go.” 

“What?”

“Answer your father. Tell him you’ll comply with the date.” 

Tears wet your cheeks, the silence following his demand pressing them down in heavy streaks. He stared back at you and he looked so angry, his eyes a calculated cold. He had never looked at you like that. 

“You’re hurt,” you spoke, voice a mess of tears. “You don’t mean that.” 

He only shook his head slightly. “I do.” 

“Azriel, I love you. I was promised to marry him when I was born. I don’t—” 

The muscle in his jaw feathered, effectively silencing you. His shadows were going haywire, half of them wrapped around their master, protecting him, the other half twining around your chest. Did they know you were in pain? Did they know your chest wouldn’t move?

“Okay,” you relented. More tears fell when Azriel only gave you a hard stare. “Okay, I—I’m sorry, Azriel. I love you—” 

You choked on a sob when he turned around, apparently unable to watch as you broke down. 

And that's what made this the most torturous of all; you could leave Warren—maybe—and Azriel still wouldn’t want you back. 

You decided you wouldn’t lie to Warren just as you didn’t to Azriel.

“I fell in love.” 

Warren nodded, barely blinking at your admission. “In Night?” 

Your brow furrowed. ��Yes, but—you aren’t angry?” 

“I couldn’t expect you to tie yourself to me. You didn’t know me when we were engaged and I didn’t do the best job at getting to know you when we came of age.” 

“I left.” 

“To meet your soulmate, it seems.” 

“We had no mating bond.” 

Warren’s mouth ticked up at the corner. He adjusted the collar of your cloak and dusted the snow from your shoulder. “A mating bond is not always the answer.” 

Faelight from the post beside the restaurant gleamed off the bronze hues in Warren’s hair. He leaned back, hands encasing your upper arms. “I’ve missed my chance then.”

Something soft fractured inside of you—because he was right. Warren could be all things kind and loving and he wouldn’t be Azriel. No one would be. 

“I’m sorry,” you softly spoke. “I never meant—” 

“Don’t apologize. Go to him.” 

Your lips parted. “Warren, I couldn’t. We’re to be married tomorrow. I wouldn’t do that to you. And our families would be enraged.” 

“I’m hardly concerned about our families. As much as I would have enjoyed marrying you—and I would have, please do not get that misconstrued—there are several noble ladies my mother has lined up and already ready, I’m sure. And as for your family… to be honest, y/n, you came back from Night brighter than I remember you. It seems you have another family waiting for you.” 

It all sounded wonderful—wonderful and so, so easy. You’d have Warren as an ally and you could return to the people you’d called home for so many years. You’d feel at home. The loss of your homeland would sting, but it was a worthy sacrifice. 

But then you remembered the anger and hurt in Azriel’s eyes, and this was no longer easy. 

The light extinguished from your eyes, shoulders deflating in Warren’s hold. “I can’t. He was so angry with me.” 

“When?” 

You met the blues of his eyes, chest hollow. “He found out about our engagement the night before I returned. He told me to go. He was—Warren, he wouldn’t want me back.”

Warren clicked his tongue. “I can guarantee that he’s kicking himself over that. He didn’t mean it. Imagine you learned he was engaged after so many years together. That can’t have been easy.” 

“I know,” you mumbled, ashamed. 

“But—” he continued “—if he loves you, he would have regretted that the moment you left. Go back to him. Speak with him. If he turns you away we can still be married in the morning.” 

“You would still marry me?” you deadpanned, brow raised in amusement. 

“It’s either you or the girl my mother surely has on standby.” 

You scoffed out a laugh and pushed at his chest. He grabbed his sweater in mock pain, a charming smile playing on his face. 

Despite the task that awaited you, you felt lighter. You let out a resolute sigh before saying, “You’re going to be a wonderful husband, Warren.” 

He looked up at you from where he had bent his neck, peeking out from below his lashes. “Just not to you?” he asked. 

“Not to me,” you affirmed. 

~~

The air in the Night Court felt different—shimmering, somehow, although that may have been chalked up to the anxiety coursing through your veins. The crystalline silk dress still adorning your frame stood out against the dark hues of the court. 

It had been a feat to get up to the house. After winnowing into the outskirts of Velaris, you had prayed Mor was home to the tune of several knocks on her door. She was—thankfully—and seemingly more than happy to see you. She had rushed through a tale of how terrible Azriel was doing without you that quickly morphed into a lecture about how pissed she was that you left without a proper farewell. 

You had apologized, and she had sent for someone with wings. 

Cassian appeared next, rattling off much of the same as Mor only with more shouting and less snapping. After several apologies, Cassian brought you up to the House and then promptly left to the opposite side of the House. 

And so, you were left alone with an insurmountable task. 

The halls of the House were painfully familiar, each step a reminder of the life you once thought to be forever. You passed your room—only used for the first few months before you made a home in Azriel’s—several sitting rooms, the kitchen; Azriel’s door was closed. 

You hadn’t knocked on it in years. 

You sucked in a breath, allowing it to fill your chest and then your stomach, and then you knocked. And knocked again. 

“I told you to leave it, Cassian,” came Azriel’s reply. “I don’t wish to talk about it.” 

His voice was rough and thick. You knocked again, listening close to the wood for the sound of footfall or movement. You only heard Azriel’s bed shift. 

You knocked again.

No answer. 

Well, if you were going to do this it wasn’t going to be halfway. 

You turned the knob, the metal cold and reassuring under your palm. You had done that before. 

Azriel’s room was much of the same. Some things were missing; paintings on the wall had been removed, the side of the bed you typically slept on looked all but bare, his curtains had been changed. 

Your gaze went out before it went in, and when it went in, you saw him. Hunched over on the side of his bed, Azriel sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His fingers were threaded through his hair, his room almost unseeably dark. He didn’t look up when you entered. 

“I want to be left alone,” he grunted out. He sniffed. “Tell me after she’s married and only then.” 

He knew you were getting married tomorrow. He had kept track. 

Obviously, that had been a possibility, but you had expected more avoidance. He was angry with you—at you. He couldn’t even look at you when you left, hadn’t told you he loved you as you packed your things and vanished. It would have made sense if he resented you. If he stayed away from all things that involved you. 

“I am not getting married.” 

His head snapped up at a vicious speed, hands falling into his lap just as quickly. His shadows, once in a clump at his feet, exclaimed in the air before cautiously edging towards you. He took you in, eyes roving over your figure in a panic. You caught the reflection on his cheekbones in the small amount of light filtering past his curtains. His eyes were swollen, his face gaunt. 

His voice cracked as it formed the sounds of your name. 

Nerves caught up with you. You closed the door behind you and stayed rooted in the same spot you had left him in, feet creating an indent by the wall. You played with your fingers at your waist. 

“Um, hello,” you greeted, clearing your throat. It hurt to look at him, you realized. You tore your eyes from his ruined expression to gaze down at your hands. “I realize you told me to leave. And I did—I had every intention of following my father’s requests as you told me to do. But—um. Warren could tell something was off. I was trying my best, I swear I was, but it was hard to fall back into that role after spending so much time here. After being comfortable here. With you.”

You chewed at your cheek for a moment. A bad habit you had picked up in the months back in Winter. Azriel’s bed creaked. He’d stood up. 

He was going to leave. You needed to get this out, quickly. 

“I know you’re angry and I’m so sorry, Azriel. I had foolishly thought I could avoid the fate my father had set out if I just ignored it. If I just lived out my life here with you. I thought it would all go away so I never told you about Warren and—” 

“Please,” Azriel interrupted. “Stop saying his name.”

You could feel his presence. Now directly in front of you, his shadows became more comfortable and had taken to sliding along your skin. Azriel stepped forward until you could hear his breath, but you refused to look up. You couldn’t. 

You apologized instead. “I just came back because… I just wanted you to know that you have become my family. You had said that I was making a choice between you and my family, but that’s not true. I feel at home here. And you can tell me to leave again. You can and I’ll—” 

“Look at me.” 

You sucked in a breath, picking at the skin of your palm. 

Azriel placed his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your face up to his. The first touch of his skin against yours had warmth blooming in your gut, but it was quickly replaced with a tight ball of anxiety when his eyes met yours. 

“Gods, I’ve missed your eyes,” he all but sighed. You backed up a step until your back met his door. He followed. “Is it my turn to talk?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. 

“Letting you leave—speaking to you like that—has been my greatest regret,” he began, the gravelly nature of his voice conveying more than his words ever could. His lashes were damp as they fanned against his cheeks. 

“I didn’t tell you the truth. You had every right—” 

Azriel pressed his thumb to your bottom lip and trained his eyes on the skin he displaced. He winced with a slight shake of his head. “I’m talking, my love.” 

He continued. “I did not have the right. I was hurt, you were correct, but I wasn’t listening. It was unfair of me to react that way. I wanted you to come back the moment you left.” 

“Then why didn’t you come get me?” you whispered. 

“I thought you had everything you wanted. I figured—y/n, I have never been the best option. I’m a killer. I have hang-ups. I wanted you to have a way out.” 

“I didn’t want a way out,” you stressed, gripping Azriel’s wrist. He had moved his hand back to cup your jaw. “I wanted you. I didn’t care about any of that. I was willing to throw away my entire life in Winter to stay.” 

“I know.” 

“And then you told me to leave.”

“I know.” 

“It’s not fair.” 

Azriel let out a tortured breath. His shoulders sagged and his forehead met yours, even though he didn’t ask, even though you weren’t sure who was mad at who anymore. You kept your eyes open as his closed, watching his face twist. 

“Wanted?” 

You drew back. “What?” 

Azriel’s eyes opened. “You said wanted. That you wanted me. That you were willing to stay.” 

You could only stare at him. 

“Does that mean… is this irreparable?” 

“Why do you think I’m here, Azriel?” A broken, defeated smile donned your face. “I don’t think we could ever be irreparable. I don’t think I’d have the strength to keep that up.” 

He was kissing you, a hurried press of his lips against yours, and his sticky cheeks became wet once more as they brushed against yours. His hands found the back of your head, your waist, pulling you in closer. His wings came around to keep you in place—unnecessary. You weren’t going to leave. 

He pressed harder still, barely enough air between you to breathe. He took the small amount that was there, whispering apologies and declarations against your lips. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“I know, Azriel.” 

“Please don’t marry him.” 

“I won’t.”

“I love you. So much.” 

You kissed him more, softer, and he let you set the pace. At some point, his feet had guided you to the plush surface of his bed, positioning you at the head without ever breaking from your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again—a kiss to your jaw, one along your temple. “I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Showing you how much I love you.” 

“It’s okay, Azriel. I’m sorry too—” 

“Don’t. Please. I played out you returning to me so many times in my head. You never apologized in them. You have no reason to.” 

You threaded your fingers through the hair on his nape, eyes cast softly up as he hovered above you. “I could have been more open.” 

“I’ve thought about that. I—I was foolish to think you’d want that future. You are nothing like the woman they have forced you into the mold of.” 

A small smile. “So you’ve noticed?” 

Azriel only kissed you once more before a seriousness cast over his face. “Were you… treated well?” 

“Treated well?”

“I believe his name is Warren.” 

You fought back a laugh at the way he mumbled the words. “You’re worried he was cruel?” 

“Among other things. I know how noblemen can behave.” 

“And when did you begin to worry about that.” 

“From the moment you said his name was Warren.” 

You did laugh that time, shifting on the bed until Azriel laid on his back. You rested along his side, palm flat on his chest. Like a moth to a flame, Azriel’s wings captured you in their own hold. “Warren would have made a good husband. He is a kind man—doting, even.” Azriel tensed beneath you, but you only smoothed your fingers down the plane of his chest. “But I didn’t love him. Maybe I could have tried, before I met you. But not after.” 

Azriel rested his hand atop yours, squeezing your fingers. “I will thank him then. For caring for you when I did not.” 

You looked at him softly, removing your hand to brush stray hairs from his forehead. “He told me to go to you. I was at my rehearsal dinner. I think if I had opened my mouth I would have said your name.” 

He responded with a hand rubbing circles into your back. You laid your head on his chest. “Things will be different now. I can’t go home for a while.” 

“You are home,” he replied. “Things may be different, but I will never be different. Not when it comes to you.”

Read the continuation of Warren's story here

[retrosabers]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn’t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he��s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

[anam-mana]

It fascinates me that Alistair gets lumped in with the “Chantry Boys” in discussions about Dragon Age Archetypes because it’s just. Very untrue. But it’s an idea the text actually pushes you to connect with in a way I think is purposeful.

This guy introduces us to the lore of the Blight by asking if we want “the chantry version or the truth.” If we ask if they’re not the same thing he smirks and says with some attitude “they rarely are.”

He sums up his religious beliefs saying he’s “not especially” Andrastian, and that “believes in the Maker well enough.”

He’s actually LESS religious than Zevran, who describes himself as fully Andrastian with a regular prayer routine in optional conversation branches.

The things that people use to categorize Alistair’s supposed “Chantry Boy” boy status all have non-religious motivations.

For example, the big one, his virginity, is because 1. He’s nervous around women, which is the gender he finds most attractive 2. He’s actually the youngest Party Member, being freshly 20 years old. 3. And most importantly, he correlates sex with love and was brought up to see them as requiring the other and so feels uncomfortable having sex without what he sees as “true love.” And he just hasn’t been in love yet.

Another example would be his reaction to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He reacts with wonder akin to Leliana where many others react with a contrasting blasee attitude. Even the Andrastian Zevran.

But you gotta read between the lines here. Zevran doesn’t hold remains as sacred. He’s an assassin. So his prophet’s body is in that urn. It’s a body. The least remarkable and most mundane, perhaps even the hardest to swallow, thing she could ever be to Zevran is a corpse. Kinda takes the wonder out of faith for an assassin if she dies and rests just like any one else.

But Alistair is fascinated, in awe. 1, probably because the Chantry he doubts so much now has some kinda proof that something they said was true, unlike what he previously believed. 2, Alistair is WAY more patriotic than he is religious and we gotta remember that the Fereldans pride themselves on Alamari heritage, and Andraste was probably the most powerful and influential Alamari person to ever live. 3, he’s actually a giant history buff. He info dumps history on you often, with the memorized readings of whatever question you ask. If asked about the King and Loghain before the betrayal at Ostagar, he shows respect for Loghain’s service in the War for Independance, and knowledge of his tactics. And when speaking about his time in training with the chantry as a child, he says the education was actually what he liked most. And a lot of his gifts are things like replica soldiers, Fereldan historical things, maps, (along with his interest in magical artifacts but that’s for another day.) etc. Given his patriotism and love of learning history, yeah, the Urn is a big deal to him.

I have more things I could say, but really, I just find Alistair to be one of the most misrepresented by fandom characters. His character has a TON of subtext that challenges you to look beyond what others represent him as and the low opinion he holds of himself.

The perception of him as Andrastian and devout is one pushed on him by people like Morrigan (and others to some degree) who fights Alistair more like a straw man representing society than she engages with him as himself. She sees him as a Templar even though he left the order specifically because they abused him And he fundamentally disagreed with their practices, The Harrowing specifically being what pushed him to fight to leave.

There are, textually, two ways to interpret Alistair. Through face value aesthetics and symbolism pointing to association with the Chantry and by observing other’s opinion of him. Or through actually listening to what he says and watching what he does.

And it’s just interesting to me that a lot of people get caught in the trap of what he represents aesthetically rather than who he is.

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”

The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asking.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[bcksbarnes]

silver lining

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: for someone who was once frozen in time, bucky barnes never had to worry about aging, until he finds his first gray hair.

word count: 2.3K

mornings spent wrapped in bucky’s arms were your favorite ways to start your weekends, especially after such a long week. you were barely awake yet but you could feel the way he held you close his chest, both of your bodies intertwined as the two of you slept. 

work was kicking your ass, not physically, but with the way your to-do list piled up.

work was kicking bucky’s ass, but actually physically.

he had been away for the week, only getting home late last night as you were finishing up dinner. he loved his job, loved getting to help people and save the world, but coming home to the apartment the two of you shared was the most rewarding part of it all. it was as if he could fully unwind and forget about the cruelty that seeped into this world; bucky had his fair share of contributing to that many years ago, but now he was doing his best to pay back all he had done.

and now, as you stirred softly from your sleep, all you could think about was how excited you were to be with him on this glorious saturday morning. the sun was shining in from the tops of your blinds, the bedroom you shared still mostly filled with darkness - per bucky’s request to get black out curtains, it helped him sleep better. a groan leaves his lips as soon as he feels you stir, his hand on your back pulling you in closer.

“morning.” you whisper, your eyes opening, blinking away the blurriness. 

“morning.” he mumbles back, but it’s almost incoherent as he sucks in a deep breath and starts to move. “i was very peaceful, you know.”

“i’m so sorry.” you say to him, a smile on your face as your hand moves up his chest and to the side of his neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss. he hums against your lips as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, your shirt riding up as he does so. 

“apology accepted,” he mutters softly, causing both of you to break into a smile. bucky finally opens his eyes; those baby blues that you had fallen in love with had always managed to make your heart flutter, and this time was no exception. it didn’t matter how long the two of you were together (3 years, but who’s counting), there was always a spark that hit the both of you whenever your gazes connected, it was exhilarating. 

without even thinking about it, you bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek softly as your thumb rubbed against his coarse skin, his early morning stubble was one of your favorite things about waking up with him.

the two of you finally pull back, only far enough so that you can see each other's faces. you weren’t exactly sure how you landed such a wonderful man in your life, for all the bad things that bucky had seen about himself, they were just overshadowed by how truly incredible he was. a man who saw himself as cold, guarded and unemotional, was deep down really just the kindest, most gentle and well rounded person you had ever met. you were so very lucky.

“what’s the plan for today?” he asks, clearing his throat a bit to get out the morning vocal fry he usually had. 

“i was thinking maybe we can go grab breakfast at that new diner we’ve been wanting to try?” you ask and can hear him hum in response, the best way to bucky’s heart was definitely through his stomach. after years on the run and in control by someone else, good food was always a comfort he could appreciate.

“and then afterwards we can head to the store? i need to pick up a few things for the week.” youwere already dreading thinking about the next week of work, but that was just life, mundane and full of running errands and doing chores. though when the two of you did it together, it never really felt so bad.

bucky sighs as he rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling as he uses his hand that’s not resting on your back to run down his face, getting out one last yawn before he had to get up for the day. you knew the days after missions were tough for him, a mix of needing to catch up on sleep and wanting to make the most of your time together, he always opted for the latter. he’ll sleep when he’s dead.

his hand lightly taps your back signaling the two of you to move and start getting out of bed. both of you stretched your limbs, stealing one more quick kiss before going your separate ways; bucky on his way to take a shower while you move to the kitchen to get the coffee pot going, if it was one thing about you and bucky, it’s that you both needed at least two cups before you could get your day going. 

while he’s in the shower you keep yourself busy; folding blankets the two of you left out in the living room, picking up shoes from the hallway, putting dishes in the dishwasher and getting dressed so that all you had to do was wash your face and brush your teeth when he got out - all the same mundane things every couples did.

it’s about twenty minutes later when you start to get concerned, the shower is still running but bucky doesn’t usually take that long, he’s more of a man that showers because he hated the idea of being dirty rather than a man looking to relax. when you step closer to the door you press your ear against it, hoping to hear at least some sign of movement, when you don’t your stomach drops.

“buck?” you call out, your fist knocking on the wood door. “are you okay in there?” 

suddenly it feels like time had slowed down and all you can think of were the bad things that could have happened. you didn’t hear him collapse - bucky was a big man, you would have heard that - and you didn’t hear him yell in pain or anything, but the thought doesn’t leave your mind as you start rapidly knocking again.

your hand reaches for the doorknob but before you can even grasp it you hear the water from the shower shut and footsteps approaching the door. taking a step back to give him some space, you watch as the door slowly opens and bucky stands in front of you. he’s standing in his boxers, it looks like hadn’t made it into the shower yet, and there’s a look on his face that’s hard to read. the steam from the room is slowly entering the hallway as he meets your gaze, his hair is all messed up. as quickly as relief filled your body that he was okay, the look on his face made your concern return.

“are you okay?” you ask, reaching your hand out to him. “i got worried.”

“sorry,” he mumbles. he’s suddenly feeling very shy, not wanting to have worried you. sometimes bucky can tend to revert back to those days of keeping everything inside, not wanting to share his emotions or feelings. it feels like a complete turn around from this morning and the way the two of you were wrapped up in each other. 

in the beginning of your relationship it was hard to coax these talks out of him, bucky would shut down and shut himself out. with time, patience and trust you two were able to get to a place where this didn’t happen very often, but sometimes it still did and it always blindsided you. you tried to never show it on your features, you knew that if he had any inkling that this was surprising that he’d shut down even more. open, patient and receptive is what you had to be and this time was no different. 

“no, no, don’t apologize.” your voice is soft as you take a step closer, your hand resting on his shoulder. “i just wanted to make sure you were okay. i didn’t want to have to break the door down.”

this gets him to smile, well not really a smile but the edge of his mouth curls up a bit.

“yeah, like you’re capable of that.”

there's no malice in his joke, but there is an air of nervousness from him as if he’s contemplating what he wants to say, your thumb is drawing small comforting circles on his skin as you wait to see if you need to push him to talk or give him some space. you see him open his mouth to speak, your eyes watching his every move.

“i found …” he mumbles the last words so you don’t quite catch them.

“sorry, what?” 

“i found …” he says it again, this time even more mumbled than the last.

“buck, babe, i can’t hear what you’re saying.”

a sigh leaves his lips as he closes his eyes, he’s struggling with saying this out loud for some reason. it’s not that big of a deal, it happened to everyone, but bucky never thought he’d see the day it’d happened to him.

“i found a gray hair.” his voice is still sort of muttered, but you can finally hear him. 

the words hit you square in the chest and your emotions are immediately conflicted. you are so happy that bucky has lived to see the day that he has gotten to age properly, that he’s been able to live a new life that is so fulfilled and full of love. but, you know the flip side of this coin, which is that bucky is a person from another time and that this process should have started decades ago for him. 

“oh, buck,” a whisper comes from your lips as you take another step closer to him, the steam from the bathroom still flooding the hallway.

“i’m just having … a moment.” he explains softly, his hand moving to the small of your back as he pulls you in, needing the close proximity for comfort. “i never thought this would happen, you know? it’s hard to imagine myself getting …” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “older. i guess.”

you listen intently as you know it’s the right thing to do, all bucky ever asked for was for someone to take his feelings seriously and you always tried your best to do so. 

“and? how do you feel about it?” 

“good, bad, a mix of both.” he says honestly as his hand slips under your shirt, the warm flesh rubbing against your skin as if to ground himself. “it’s nice that it’s finally happening, that my life is moving forward, but it should have happened a long time ago.”

“i know.” you whisper softly.

you move both of your arms to wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you. his shoulders relax and you can feel the tension leaving his body almost immediately. bucky was an adult man, there was no doubt about it, but moments like these gave you an inside look as to what he would have been like all those decades ago - a boyish look in his eyes in the moments he felt really small.

when he opens his eyes again to look at you his thoughts are racing. he wished he never went through what he did, of course he did, but in some sick twist of fate if his life had never worked out the way it actually did he would never have met you. bucky, for all its worth, thinks that alone is worth the years of his life missed.

he’s smiling at you now and you can see the sparkle in his eyes return again as you both stand there for a beat. in these moments he’s happy he gave his heart up to someone all good and all kind.

“do you see it?” he brings his metal hand up to his hair, grabbing a few strands from the front of his head and flattening them so you can get a better look. “see? right there.”

there’s still a massive amount of dark hair, but between the strands you see it - the one gray hair that stands out from the rest. it really is only one.

“i see it. you want me to rip it out?” you offer.

“no.” he says quickly, his hand on your back playfully smacking your behind as he smirks at you. “that’s actually why i haven’t taken a shower yet. i’ve been contemplating for the last 20 minutes if i should rip it out of my head or not. is it a mid-life crisis if you’re over 100?”

you can’t help but laugh softly at his joke, bringing one of your hands up to fix his hair; you can tell he was definitely digging to see if there were more.

“oh definitely not, you’re way past mid-life crisis. maybe more like a geriatric spiral instead?” you feel him smack your behind again and both of you start laughing softly, the bucky you knew and loved slowly returning to you. “now you and your gray hair better shower quickly because i’m hungry. if we end up getting to the diner and there’s a line i won’t be very happy.”

“oh well, we can’t have that happening, now can we?” 

bucky presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before he pulls away from your embrace, giving you one last look over before he closes the bathroom door to shower. he turns towards the sink once the door is closed, his hands on either side of the counter as he gives himself one last look over in the mirror, the gray hair standing out from the rest. he meets his own eyes and gives himself a nod. everything would be okay.

[auroreliis]

What about Reader with Deadpool powers and humor?

Oh Jason would love you.

Bruce would be stressed to the core. Despite the fact that you would probably be fine if you got injured, he is NOT taking chances. There will not be a single scrape on you. He doesn't want it to become a norm for you!!!!!!

And if there is a scrape on you? Then all hell breaks loose. Yeah, you'd better heed his words...

Dick, much like Bruce, is rather stressed, though he's a bit less obvious about it.

Huh? You wanna go run through a field of landmines for fun? Hahahahaa, sure, whatever you say. Now, come on. Let's get you to your room ^^ (You're getting locked in the basement tonight.).

Jason finds it hilarious. What a legend you are, absolutely precious. Would that he could take you out on patrols (You have powers, you'd be fine.). Even Dick is starting to get annoyed at Jay's laughter echoing through the manor whenever you say the most mundane thing ever. Be careful before they forbid you two from spending time together for good.

Tim is trying to relax around you, but he remains on edge.

Oh, hahahah. Yeah. Don't jump out that window, he really doesn't want to board it up...it's his last way to access fresh air.

Stephanie likes spending time with you most of the time, but sometimes you do things that are too reckless for her. Like, she gets it, the powers and everything, but do you really have to tumble down the staircase do get down quicker?

Cassandra is somehow always ahead of you and always behind the corner. You can never seem to get a moment away from her. She's probably worried, but you'll literally be fine, so why is she just standing there and watching you? Also, she's the one who stops you from going to the kitchen and experimenting with your powers using the knives and forks.

Duke is absolutely stressed. It doesn't help that he takes all your jokes wayyyy too seriously.

"WAIT NO- DON'T TRY TO BASH YOUR HEAD ON THE COUNTER TO SEE IF YOU CAN MAKE BRAIN SOUP- Oh...you...you weren't going to? Okay...good."

Damian thinks you're really funny, but he has to restrain himself from laughing at your jokes because he knows that they're made in bad taste.

He sees that Bruce isn't laughing and has to hold it back too, but wow, he really wanted to laugh when you said that you'd rather get crushed by a meteorite than hug Tim's sweaty form.

Also, he thinks that your power is really cool and he would give an arm and a leg for it.

[rosaeh]

my jason todd's headcanons :

white streak and autopsy scar are a MUST

i think he has like brown hair that looks black

i also like the idea of him having a scar on his eyebrow.

also all over his arms like in juni ba's the boy wonder.

i don't really know about men's size and weight, but to me he is like 190cm with broad shoulders. he is really buff.

i said it before and I'll say it again : jason is so hozier coded

i like blue eyes jason as robin then they turn green after the lazurus pit. but what i like the most is heterochromia jason with a blue eye and a green one. (i once saw a fanart of him like this and i never found it ever again i feel devastated)

roman nose jason todd save me

this man is a YEARNER

like when he is in love, he loves. so deeply. he can feel it in his bones. he may love "quietly", settling for sweet gestures but the love behind it is so deep, that to you it is loud.

to me, he literally embodies the sentence "if i loved you less id be able to talk about it more" (emma, jane austen)

he loves to cradle your face to kiss you.

coping mechanism is obviously sarcasm

he loves to tease you and loves even more when you tease back.

when you sit together and he holds your hand, he tends to brush his thumb over the back of your hand, and leans down to kiss your knuckles.

he is the kind of guy to walk in front of you in a crowded place and like put his hand behind his back, trying to reach for yours.

these tiktoks in which someone is filming their bf/gf face before they saw them is so jason. like dude has a rbf but as soon as his eyes land on you it softens.

he loves greek mythology because i love greek mythology and i said so

he is both street and book smart

he writes poetry for you but never give it to you unless he's not there when you read it

remember every mundane things you (or his family even) say but will act like it's no big deal

just love to please you, to see you smile.

as for smoking, i don't really know if i like the idea of jason smoking or not. on one side it has so cute things that can be written with it, but on the other side i feel like he wouldn't smoke because he tries to have healthy habits to stay fit and all. but it could also be a self destructive habit. so i don't know😫

anyway if you don't like cigarettes and he does smoke, he would never smoke in front of you. he would even be willing to try and quit if you asked him to.

overall he is a lover boy🫶

omg i almost forgot about the scar on his cheek. i saw a fanart in which the scar made like a smile on his face but we could also see a "j" and i loved it. also i think the scar ride up to his hair above his ear.

[quantum1mmortality]

hihi! I saw your curly stuff, I love how you write him!! If it’s possible, nsfw headcanons for what turns him on? have a great day <3

Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Curly? No? Well I am now. I love writing him. He's so awesome sauce, so boyfriend. My scrunkle

Tw/cw; lingerie, praise, mentions of masochism, accidentally almost wrote a one shot for the last one whoops lolololol, semi public sex IMPLIED

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1; Lingerie

You guys can't look at me and tell me this man wouldn't go BALLISTIC for a nice set of lingerie. He makes good money at his job, good enough to be able to buy multiple sets of high quality, lacy lingerie for you to wear for him; then make you do a fashion show for him when you get them. Curly definitely comes off as a thigh guy, so he'd pick out all the sets with garter belts, specifically so he can slip his fingers under the seam and let go to see all that thigh movement. It actually drives him wild. Those sets can be pretty expensive, so hopefully he gets a raise soon since he's tearing apart every set he gets you.

2; Praise

I know it's overdone to say a character gets turned on by being praised but idc. This man has a praise kink and I will DIE on that hill. For anyone else, a praise to him wouldn't matter. He hears them constantly in his line of work, so at this point it's just noise. But from you? You like something about him? Oh no, he's hard. You could compliment him on the most mundane of things, say his uniform looks good on him and he's thinking about that the entire time he's at work. By the time he gets home, he's in genuine pain at how turned on he's been ALL DAY and not being able to help himself. He could, but he'd rather you do it. He's quite the masochist.

3; Titles

Imagine this; you're the wife of a well respected captain at Pony Express, and you decide to be a good wife and bring your beloved husband lunch. How sweet! You go to his department and call out to him, "Captain, I've brought lunch for you~" you giggle, drawing out his title. He looks up from.. whatever he was doing only to find you, holding a lunch box with a smile. Okay stop imagining, it's headcanon time.

Obviously the first thing he's going to do is thank you for lunch, he was famished. But after that, it's all blurry. It's like being with you has unlocked a bunch of new experiences for him, he never thought being called his title, the title he earned, would turn him on so much. It's like hearing it come from you was completely different from anyone else saying it. You ended up staying his entire lunch break and talking to him, only for your words to fall on deaf ears. He could barely even focus on what he was eating, let alone what you were telling him. Eventually he just had to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving you alone as he attempted, ATTEMPTED to satisfy himself. After a while he just gave up and went back out to where you were, told you the situation, and asked for your help. He was practically begging you, what were you supposed to do? Leave him there? No, you're a good wife. Of course you'd help him, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n; sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be writing hcs and accidentally lock in too much and go on little tangents. I'm suffering from success but it kind of fucks the vibe up ngl

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[thinkingabprice]

“you want me to put you in a headlock?”

“well yes”

john price x reader, reader loves arms

-

you had always liked arms, you didn’t really know how it started, it was like one day you had woken up and decided that arms were going to be your favorite body part.

it didn’t help that your boyfriend had very nice arms. even as he did the most mundane tasks you found yourself staring and successfully looking away before he saw, or so you thought.

you were laying in bed watching tv and you hear the shower turn off and a couple moments later you see john walk out of the bathroom.

he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and his upper body was on full display.

it’s not like it was the first time you had seen him shirtless, but you always find yourself admiring him when you think he isn’t looking.

he was currently drying his hair with a towel, and you took that opportunity to glance at him and his arms for only a second.

unfortunately for you, you weren’t paying attention and he already put his towel down and he could see your eyes on him and he just smirked.

he continues to walk over to his dresser, rummaging through it for a shirt, you think. his back faces you and although you can’t see his face, he can see you through the mirror.

he really wasn’t looking for a shirt, just setting you up and confirming his suspicions and when he saw your eyes look back at him again he knew he had found what he was looking for.

“something the matter, sweetheart?” he asks after he clears his throat.

“what? no, nothings the matter why do you ask?” you say.

“can feel you staring at me, you know,” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

you pause for a moment and you feel your face heat up from embarrassment.

“i wasn’t staring,” you deny.

“mhm, sure you weren’t darling,” he says as he teases you.

for the rest of the night, he made subtle movements that allowed him to flex his arm, trying to get you to break. you, completely oblivious to his scheme, were left suffering as he did so. you couldn’t understand why you were staring at his arms so much more now. were you just crazy? the only thing on your mind was him.

the show you were watching had become completely irrelevant, you only stared at his arm as it rubbed up and down your side gently.

“you’ve been staring for a while, sweetheart. you mean to tell me there’s nothing you wanna say to me?” he questions.

your eyes find themselves glued to his arms again and all you can do is gulp nervously.

you had thought about his arms a lot to be fair. sometimes you would find yourself thinking about how they would feel wrapped tightly around you.

no, not just a normal hug, but having them squeeze you. to have them practically suffocate you. he was your boyfriend, after all, but you weren’t even sure if you had enough courage to ask.

“your arms are nice…” you respond quietly.

“thank you baby but i know you’ve got more to say so get it out. i promise i wont judge you,” he says, that soft smile of his encouraging you.

you look at him once again and just decide to get it out as fast and as shameless as possible. the worst that he could say is no.

“could you wrap your arm around my neck?” you say quickly as you finally manage to keep eye contact with him.

his eyes widen a bit in surprise but he laughs at your words.

“you want me to put you in a headlock?”

“well, yes,” you reply, shifting against him nervously.

he pauses for a moment before speaking softly.

“alright then, get over here.”

he gestures for you to move even closer and you eagerly listen, cuddling closer to him as you’re giddy with excitement.

he holds you up against him on his left side, wrapping his left arm around your neck and you could feel yourself melting into him.

his forearm is positioned under your chin with his bicep against your cheek, the hair on his arm ticking you as he holds you.

“this alright?” he asks looking at you for reassurance and making sure that you’re okay.

you can only giggle as you reply with a happy “yes.”

he can’t help but smile at your reaction. he caught your lingering gazes here and there throughout the time that you’d been together but he never thought you would ask to do something so, out-of-character? it was certainly an unusual request from you but he was enjoying it nonetheless, any time spent next to you was pleasing.

he wasn’t complaining, having you up against him and giggling like crazy because he had his arm wrapped around you certainly did something to him. he took pride in his physique and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the attention you were giving him.

having you laying next to him made him want to mess with you even more. he decides to flex his arm a bit and you feel his arm close more tightly around you and it feels like heaven. the feeling of his arm subtlety squeezing you has an involuntary noise leaving the back of your throat.

“oh?” john says, “you like it that much?”

“maybe i do,” you reply, finally feeling more comfortable.

“i guess we’ll have to do this more often then.”