#she's filled with doubts and he's there for her

[kaidoslastbraincell]

Oh my gosh your writing is the sweetest ever! You’re actually a godsend for the kpdh fandom (especially Baby Saja fans) 🙏🙏🙏

If you don’t mind could I request a Baby Saja x reader where she’s attacked by a demon/getting her soul stolen, but Baby saves her because he loves her? I’m a sucker for that “I almost lost you” angst hehehehe. I also feel like Baby would go absolutely insanely feral on anything that tries to hurt someone he loves

You're so sweet! Thank you so much!!! And I absolutely love this concept! May have had a bit too much fun writing it lmao so I hope you enjoy!

He couldn't care less about the other hunters...but he sure as hell cares about you. And if saving you and your soul gets him in trouble? So be it. ~ in which, you're a solo hunter working with HUNTRIX and you get separated from them during a pretty big demon invasion

pairings: Demon!Baby x Solo Hunter!reader

content warnings: blood, violence, kinda almost death? injury and all the angst

KPDH MASTERLIST HERE

There hadn't been a hoard this big in a long time. You began the hunt with HUNTRIX, but somewhere along the way, you got separated. There was no doubt you were strong, but this would be too much for anyone. The Saja Boys had taken a back seat, opting to watch how things play out before deciding whether or not to intervene. What you didn't know, was that Baby had been keeping an eye on you the whole night. His demon form blended into the shadows like a second skin. His jaw clenched every time you got hurt. His eyes flashed each time you were cornered. But you were mostly okay.

You were exhausted...bleeding and bruised and so so exhausted. With luminous twin katanas in hand, you swept the streets without mercy. But you knew you were hitting your limit. Your reactions were getting slower and your mind was lagging. This only became more apparent when you made the oh so smart decision to follow three demons down an alley...alone.

"Shit..." your chest heaved with every breath.

The three hideous creatures turned to you with hungry grins, all sharp teeth and glowing eyes. There was only one pair of glowing eyes you wanted to see right now.

"I'm coming home, Baby," you whispered, attempting to relax your sore shoulders.

"The only one going home tonight, is us," the demon in the middle snarled.

They swarmed you at once, covering every escape, and you sighed. Blows were traded. Claw clashed with blade. Teeth were bared. A slash to your shoulder had you staggering before you forced your blade though hellish flesh. One down...two to go.

Baby watched from the roof, eyes sharp. His fists clenched at his sides.

"Come on come on come one," he muttered.

Claws sunk into your side before the assailant was disposed of, but the time it took you to regain balance was too long. A rough hand around your throat shoved you into the wall, black spots dancing across your vision with the collision to your head. When the monster opened its mouth, a soft blue glow bloomed in your chest.

"No..." you gasped, "no no no! Not like this...anything but this!"

A thunderous growl shook the ground of the alley as a dark figure appeared out of nowhere. Your consciousness was wavering as blood pulsed from the wound in your side.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to touch what's not yours?"

A clawed hand wrapped around the front of the demon's throat before it was torn out. The body dropped. You sagged against the wall. And Baby looked far from satisfied. Muffled noise filled the entrance of the alley as a new tear in the Honmoon opened. More demons spilled out. Hungry. Desperate. Baby's head whipped in their direction as a vicious snarl tore through his throat. He moved on instinct. Faster than you could keep up with. His expression was calm as always, but the rage rolling off him in suffocating waves told you everything.

"Ba...Baby..." Your voice was getting weaker and it only made him angrier.

"Hold on for me, love. Just a minute. Hold on."

Ever a man of his word, the minor demons were done with, and he rushed to your side. His hands were cool against the clammy skin of your cheeks.

"Stay awake for me, okay?" Moisture gathered in his eyes, and he blinked frantically to clear it. "Jinu's gonna get Rumi and the others. They'll know what to do."

"Baby...I'm so tired...can we take a nap?" You were wheezing now.

"Not yet, my love. Come on."

Your lashes fluttered as your head fell forward against his shoulder. He shook you gently.

"No. Do not do this. You're not allowed to leave me."

Your blood-stained fingers brushed his cheek.

"I'm alright. Just...need...a little...rest..."

Baby's stomach dropped as you passed out, hands trembling. He carefully laid you down, pressing a hand against the gushing wound in your side.

"Fuck...Jinu where the hell are you!"

The sound of incessant beeping was sharp in your ears. Your sinuses burned with the smell of something strong and chemical. With a groan, you tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain. Baby jolted, sitting up in the chair he'd fallen asleep in. He was by your side in seconds, his hand steady in yours.

"About fucking time," he sighed, "I knew you were tired but jeez."

The teasing in his tone far from matched the worry in his eyes.

"Baby?" You throat was dry as hell.

"Don't you ever fucking do that to me again!" he hissed.

"I thought I lost you..."

[liliesonthego]

White Dress

Summary: Daeho informs you of a new 'job' he got that pays well amidst talks of getting married.

Pairing: Kang Daeho x reader (pre games)

Genre: fluff/ angst

Word count: 1 k

Authors note: I wrote this at 5 am so it there is probably mistakes. I hope you enjoy and justice for Daeho

—

Daeho's arms gripped your waist tightly as your lips met, a passionate embrace that deepened with every passing second. Your hands ran through his soft hair, pushing it back away from his face. You could feel the smile on his lips through the kiss, and your stomach erupted with butterflies at the feeling of the man underneath you.

His thumb caressed the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine, pulling you higher up on his lap. The kiss was hungry, urgent, a silent conversation of longing and affection that had been building since he arrived at your apartment.

Usually you were the one to initiate moments like this. Daeho was on the shyer side, especially when it came to being intimate, even after a year of being together. Today was different though. He had been in your apartment for all of 10 minutes before he dragged you to your room and sat you down on top of him.

You definitely weren't complaining. He gripped your hips tighter now, gently rocking your body back and forth against him. He tilted his head back against the headboard with a soft and breathy moan. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside your bed. He let his eyes flutter shut. Another buzz. You leaned into his neck, trailing kisses up to his ear. The phone buzzed uncontrollably.

Daeho let out an irritated sigh. You giggled into his neck and pecked his cheek lightly. You reached over to the nightstand to see who was blowing up your phone. Your eyes skimmed over the word 'mom' and you immediately switched your phone to do not disturb and slid it to the farthest corner of the nightstand.

Daeho looked at you, confused. "Is it not important?"

"It's just my mom," you said with a sigh. "She's been getting on my nerves a lot lately, and she even cock-blocked me without knowing. She must have a sixth sense..."

Daeho chuckled beneath you. You immediately perked up at the sound.

"Did anything happen?" he questioned.

"No, she's just been bugging me lately about different things. 'When are you gonna get a job, when are you gonna get married,' things like that."

Daeho stiffened at your words. Your eyes trailed his face carefully. You knew it was a sensitive subject for you two. After all, his mom had also been pressuring him to settle down. But with your current financial situations, it was just unrealistic. A fact that Daeho was more than a little embarrassed to admit.

You cupped his face between your hands and brushed your thumb over the frown on his face, trying to smooth it away.

"I told her countless times, 'Mom, I just finished my masters. I'll get a job soon,' and it's not even like we're that old. I'm only 27. Isn't it trendy to get married later these days..." your voice trailed off.

His eyes were glued down to your lap. You could practically see him overthinking in his head. You raised his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you gently smoothed his hair down.

"What are you thinking about, angel?"

He stared intensely at you, eyes boring into your own with a determination you had yet to see.

"She doesn't think we'll ever get married, does she?"

"Daeho, my mom loves you. How could she not?" And it was true. Daeho was the perfect example of a gentleman, the perfect son-in-law a mother could ask for. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, brought her flowers every time they met. He had to have a flaw though, right? It was only natural. His just so happened to be his financial situation.

"She's just worried. I have my student loans to pay off and you have your debt to take care of. I have no doubt that I'll marry you when the time is right, but, Daeho, we're just not ready. I wish she would understand that." The mood once filled with passion turned somber.

He sighed, his gaze softening as he looked away for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I know, you're right. It's just... I want to be able to give you everything. Provide for you, without a single worry." He turned back to you, his eyes holding a new intensity. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you. I... I got an opportunity. A job."

Your eyebrows perked up, a hopeful smile touching your lips. "Oh? That's great! What kind of job? Where is it?"

He hesitated, a strange flicker of unease crossing his features. "They didn't give me many details. Just that it's a short-term gig, a few days, and the pay is... really good. Enough to make a serious dent in everything, maybe even clear it."

Your hopeful smile faltered, replaced by a growing knot in your stomach. "No details? Dae-ho, that sounds... I don't know. Sketchy. Are you sure about this? I don't like the sound of it. What if it's not safe?" You pulled away slightly, sitting up. "Please, don't do it. There has to be another way."

He reached for your hand, his grip firm and

reassuring, though his eyes held a hint of desperation. "I have to, baby. Don't you see? This could change everything. This could be our chance to actually build the life that we want. I don't want to have to wait a long time. I'll do anything to be able to provide for you, to give you the life you deserve."

His conviction, though born of love, sent a shiver down your spine. Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of fear and overwhelming affection. You leaned into him, burying your face in his chest. "Just... promise me you'll be careful," you murmured, your voice muffled.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, which to him, you were. "I promise. I'll come back to you. Always."

You stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, the weight of his words and the unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air, yet bound by the desperate hope for a future together. He kissed the top of your head, a tender, possessive gesture, and you felt a strange sense of both comfort and foreboding.

You lifted your head, eyes meeting his once again. A smile bloomed slowly on his face.

Your eyes narrowed.

"What are you thinking?"

"Just about how beautiful you'll look in your white dress."

He would never get to see that moment come true.

[onyxluvjiro]

What if…. Betty x Reader x Mateo????

I actually saw a fic about this on ao3… was really good so shout out to that fic!

—

- gender neutral reader

- tit sucking, fondling, cock warming, somnophilia if u squint, threesome

—

The softest sex you’d ever get to experience in your life was with these two. Individually they were both stereotypically soft, i mean they are your bed and blankets. But when it comes to the both of them, at the same time, it was almost dizzying how soft and loved you felt in this moment.

your face was stuffed in between Betty’s tits right now, you had used the glasses on her to warm up during the cold winter. The repair man was coming to fix Hector after he had broken, so while he wasn’t fixed, you had to find other ways to stay warm.

Lucky for you, your bed is always up for a cuddle, and what better way to warm up than to have your face shoved in between her soft tits. You had a blanket thrown on top of the two of you, not bringing him to life using Skylar, yet you could still feel his warmth resting above you.

So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you feel him practically materializing on top of you, his cheek squished against your back as betty lets out a cute giggle. You just groan, the warmth of his body only making you feel even better.

“Well hello sweet boy.”

you hear Betty coo, a hand lifting from your back to where you assume to be mateo’s head. You hear a soft sigh, and the body on top of yours relaxing further. You mostly feel the mumble of Mateo saying hi back, too relaxed to to much.

That was until another burst of cold air hits your skin, forcing a shiver to rack through your body. The two others find themselves wrapping their arms closer to you, just to try and warm you up more.

“You know, there’s other ways to warm up.”

Betty suggests with that oh so teasing tone of hers.

So here you were now, Betty’s own bare chest pressed against yours as she sloppily makes out with you, the feeling of Mateo’s lips lazily lapping at your sex has you reeling. Both of them, lazily fondling your pretty body, soaking up each whine and moan.

It wasn’t until you were promptly flipped onto your knees and chest, your own face burried into Betty’s pretty cunt that you truly felt warm. Especially when you felt Mateo’s pretty cock sink into your hole, hitting all the right spots with each thrust.

You were in heaven, there was no doubt about it. How gently Betty tugged at your hair, cooing praises down at you while Mateo slowly fucks you, the sounds of smacking hips as he lets out the cutest moans known to man. This was truly the only place that could warm you up.

You try your best at lapping at Betty’s pussy, sucking and licking up all the juices. It was so sloppy, your lower face covered in her slick, but you were determined to please, and that you did.

Even after Betty and Mateo cum, filling you up with his sweet fluids, Betty finds her fingers pressed into your hole, just to keep you oh so warm as you snuggle in between them. Your cheek once again pressed against betty’s breast, Mateo’s hand massaging your chest as Betty’s fingers stuff your hole. They tell you it’s to keep you oh so warm filled with his cum, but you know better.

It’s not until you feel Mateo’s cock poking at your back do you realize it wasn’t over. Not until Mateo’s cock was burried deep inside you, Betty’s hands rubbing your back as you rest on her tits, completely tired out. You were ment to stay there, to cock warm Mateo until you dozed off. And that’s exactly what happened.

—

the need for them to smother me in love n tiddies is so real

also i went on a date recently and might be going on a second one with her :3

[catssluvr]

mr brightside, natalie scatorccio

natalie scatorccio x popular!reader (1k words)

in which nat is in love with you. and it appears she’s not the only one.

warnings: nat crying :(, jealousy, happy ending!

⭑.ᐟ ⭑.ᐟ

Nat arrives arrives at the party quite late, taking note to never believe Lottie again when she says she won’t be late to pick her up.

Not to mention she lost sight of her as soon as she was out of the car.

She spots a few familiar faces, Van giggling hysterically at something Tai said, Jackie sharing a drink with Jeff. Shauna stands a few feet away from them, leaning against the wall with an expression Nat can’t decipher as she notices her presence.

Throwing her a quick wave, the blonde girl decides it’s better not to approach her when she looks to be in such a fool mood.

She takes quick steps to where the booze is, filling up her cup with a generous amount of beer.

The sound of your laugh makes her head turn, chest warm from hearing what she might believe is her favorite sound.

But the source of it soon makes her freeze on the spot.

Since when are you friends with Randy? Randy Walsh. Seriously?

You’re standing next to him, eyelashes slightly batting at him as he tells you about something Nat is sure can’t be that interesting.

She takes a look at your outfit, skirt that she knows you only wear on special occasions hugging your waist.

The first thing she feels in anger. Why wouldn’t you tell her? About whatever this is. Nat thought there were no secrets between you. And above all she thought she still had a chance.

She turns to Shauna again, stalking over to her with the most nonchalant expression that she can muster.

“Hey.” She greets, receiving a quick but unbothered questioning look. “Since when are her and Randy a thing?”

“Hm?” Shauna seems to snap out of whatever daze she was stuck in, taking a moment to process what she had said. “Oh- no idea.”

Natalie huffs, unsatisfied with the short answer. Why is everyone being weird today?

The worst part is that you haven’t even noticed her yet. Haven’t looked for her or showed some kind of worry for the lack of her presence.

Having a drink suddenly doesn’t feel like the best idea, her stomach doing flips - bad ones.

She feels the frustrated tears start to build up, leaving without a word or else she’d probably cry on the spot.

Seeking until she finds a nice spot outside, sitting by the pool and fishing out a cigarette from her jacket pocket.

She hopes it will cheer her. It doesn’t.

Randy. Probably the biggest manchild she knows. And definitely not the type of guy she would expect you to be with. Not someone she’d expect you to hide from her.

Next things she knows, hot tears run down her cheeks. A silent sob bubbling up her throat.

Nat brings her hands to her face, harshly brushing off the tears with her fingers.

“Hey, loser.” You call, nickname that’s usually affectionate feeling like a knife to her ears. “Been looking for you.”

She doubts it.

You take a sit next to her, grin fading once she doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Hey.” She replies after a second, clearing her throat when her voice comes out broken.

“Wait- are you crying?” You worry, laying a hand on her back until she fully turns to you.

“Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” It sounds more like an affirmation than a question.

You look confused for a moment, “Randy?”

You snort when she doesn’t answer. “You’re joking.”

Natalie reaches to light another cigarette, afraid she’ll be awkwardly fidgeting with her fingers if she doesn’t.

“Those are bad for you. And i’m pretty sure you just had one.” You take it from between her lips.

Her hand grabs yours, as if to take it back, but the look you give her is enough for her to know you’re not giving up on it.

She ignores the way your hand feels rather warm against her cold one.

“I’m not dating Randy.” You state as you press the butt of the cigarette to the stone floor.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me you’re suddenly close friends with him?” Natalie huffs, pushing at the hair that stick to her forehead.

“I’m not.”

“Right.” Her frown deepens.

“Look, it’s kinda stupid.” You sigh, face running hot.

“He kept begging me to help him make Shauna jealous. And look- i said no but then he said he’d give me 20 dollars and i thought it couldn’t be that bad.” You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you speak, covering your face from embarrassment.

Nat stays frozen for a moment, but all it takes is one embarrassed look from you for her to burst out laughing.

“You reckon it worked? She looked pretty pissed today.” She lets out another tearful giggle.

“Nuh uh, she was way more interested in eyeing Jackie’s pretty dress.” You wriggle your eyebrows.

“Wow, that’s some accusation.”

“Mark my words.” You shrug, knocking your shoulder into hers.

She smiles at you, resting her cheeks on her knees that are pulled up to her chest. You can’t help but feel guilty for the pink tear marks on her face.

“I’m sorry for not telling you.” You whisper genuinely.

“S’okay. Was being a bit dramatic anyway.” She sniffles.

“Not dramatic.” You reassure.

“Please don’t date Randy.” Please don’t date anyone, she wants to say.

“I won’t, promise.” You interlock your fingers with you, a silent understanding between the both of you.

Natalie’s smile brightens, a slight blush covering up her soft cheeks. She hides it on her jean covered legs.

“Cute.” You mumble, shuffling closer until you can press your head to hers.

She leans into you, cheek smushing against your shirt in a way that makes her look to adorable for her own good.

Feeling brave enough to, you nudge her hair with your nose until she lifts it slightly, giving you enough space for you to press a small peck to the corner of her mouth.

“Wanna get burgers?” You question. “Got 20 dollars spare.”

“What a gentleman you are.” Natalie chuckles, taking your hand as you help her stand up.

You beam, lips stretching.

She can’t wait to feel brave enough to kiss them.

[lyricalt]

[tf2] public kiss

Rating: T Ship: Sniper/Spy Note: Technically it's unfinished but it got way too long for the joke anyway. Originally written for PrideKisses 2025: Day 24 - Public Kiss.

Summary: Sniper resorts to using spy-like tactics to rescue Spy very badly.

-----

They are going over the layout and blueprints for a quick and easy infiltration mission when Spy makes a thoughtful noise of interest. The stack of dossiers in his lap nearly fall from his lap. Sniper reaches over to grab a few and set them back on the table next to his rifle parts.

At Sniper’s questioning look, Spy chuckles. 

“According to Miss Pauling, the mercenary captain recently ended a relationship of seven years,” he says offhandedly, waving the file. “Apparently they were quite serious. About to move to Barcelona. It even says they were to adopt a little black and brown dachshund. How unfortunate.”

Sniper raises one skeptical eyebrow.

“Sounds like irrelevant gossip,” he grunts, going back to putting his cleaned rifle together.

“True,” Spy admits. “But you never know when the extra information will come in handy.”

Sniper very generously doesn’t roll his eyes at Spy.

He says, with all the blissful indifference of not knowing the future, “Doubt it.”

— — — — —

Thirteen hours later, Spy spends some time thinking about how useless the dossiers had been while tied up to a chair. Occasionally his train of thought stops when a fist collides into his face.

Spy spits out some blood. 

He keeps staring at the mercenary captain, dismally thinking about the only thing he knows about her; I was informed about your recent break up, how awful, so sorry to hear, please stop torturing me for information I clearly have but will not say. 

The good news; he’s in a room full of women. He is, after all, a renown ladykiller of the metaphorical sense. 

The bad news; they do not want anything to do with him. As Scout would say—them players are battin’ for a different team. His charms are quite useless here.

Secondary good news; Sniper is still outside the base, no doubt calling for reinforcements.

Spy just has to hold out until then. Easy enough. Now he waits for the other shoe to drop. Trouble comes in pairs, after all.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait very long. The second shoe comes just five minutes later when Sniper bursts through the door of the Interrogation Chamber, escorted by two beautiful lackeys with guns pointed at him. Sniper looks unharmed, but grim. One of the lackeys is holding Sniper’s rifle case, which strikes Spy as odd.

The mercenary captain glances at Sniper, clearly unimpressed.

“Who is this?” she says, turning back to Spy. “Another one of you?”

“He’s no o-” Spy begins.

“He’s my lover,” Sniper announces, with an unprecedented amount of awkward confidence, bordering on delusional. 

A shocked silence fills the room. Spy doesn’t know who looks more surprised, him or the mercenary crew.

Before any sort of paralyzing horror overtakes his body, Spy attempts to tongue out his back tooth that contains the cyanide. No such luck. One of the ladies had punched out a good amount of his orally hidden miniature inventory. He only has his back molar containing the world’s tiniest smoke bomb.

Meanwhile, the mercenary captain looks skeptical. “Really?”

Spy opens his mouth. He shuts it with a grimace. The mental fortitude required to agree is beyond his skill. He dislikes telling the truth in any case, especially tied to a chair. He’s not about to start now.

With a certain undercurrent of desperation, bafflement, and complete irritation, Sniper answers for him, “Yeah! Really!”

Spy stares, aghast, as Sniper starts shaking. Apparently wracked with… emotion. Seizures. A stroke. Perhaps an aneurysm. Sniper falls to his knees, suddenly weak, and pathetically grasps at the pants of his captives.

In between the confused scrambling and ladies fumbling to get him back to his feet, Sniper shoots a look at Spy, doing something with his expression that implies that Spy should play along somehow, but Spy is so stunned by the display that he cannot contrive a way to make this even less unbearable than torture.

“I told ya, I’ll pay any ransom for him,” Sniper says, turning his wide eyes towards the captain. “I’ll have the money.”

He then proceeds to name a figure amount so ridiculous Spy is further stunned into a different realm of existence. His spirit has left his body, and he could quite possibly be in Hell. It’s one thing to think highly of oneself, but Spy couldn’t sanely price himself so high a ransom and feel good about it. At this point, it’s absurd. Judging from the baffled glances being exchanged by the mercenary crew, the women seem to be in agreement.

“Hey… look,” the captain starts, beginning to look uncomfortable. “You seem to care for him a lot, I feel you, but...”

She gestures over to Spy, waving her hand to encompass the whole of him, in a way that suggests that Spy isn’t really worth the money. Spy can’t even bring himself to look offended. 

“If I may…” Spy tries, not even trying to wiggle out of his ties anymore. “There’s no need for all this. I’m quite capable of rescuing myself. Not that I don’t… appreciate it.”

“That’s so…” Sniper says, faltering. A brief flash of annoyance crosses his face before he takes a deep breath to nearly—tearfully—grit out, “...’Course you’d say that. I ain’t leaving you.”

“No,” Spy says, “You should leave.”

“Oh,” says the captain, sounding just as relieved. “Well, there you have it. He doesn’t want to be rescued. You can stop that wailing now.”

Sniper stops wailing, much to Spy’s relief, but only to continue his bereaved outburst with words.

“I just… I just want to kiss him one last time,” Sniper says, sounding like he’s hyperventilating, which very might be the case. He’s turning so red that if Sniper simply exploded from embarrassment, Spy would assume that is a part of the plan for their escape. “Please… we l-love each other… so m-much…can’t leave without… a kiss.”

Spy believes his expression is the least enamored it could possibly look. Sniper is not a very good actor. He looks like he wants to murder Spy himself while declaring his love at the same time.

Spy attempts to look overcome with emotion. In a way, he certainly is.

Sniper turns dramatically to the captain, hand over his heart. Spy is familiar with enough plays and operas and the general pacing of romantic tragedies to recognize that Sniper is about to deliver a very impassioned monologue.

“Please, we were just about to take a trip to Spain, Barcelona, during the winter, and adopt a dachshund puppy… black, with little brown spots…”

“Huh?” Spy says.

“It’s just that we’ve been together for seven years-” Sniper says, louder over Spy’s noise of confusion, and puts his face into his hands to badly feign broken sobs. “-we have a lifelong plan together. You can’t break us up now.”

Through his fingers, Sniper glares at Spy.

Spy is about to glare back when the mercenary captain quickly swipes a hand over her misty eyes. From behind him, he hears one of the other ladies let out a quiet groan. 

“Oh, just let ‘em have one more kiss,” the captain says, voice cracking with genuine feeling.

Spy stares at the captain. He stares back at Sniper, mouth dropping. 

The ladies holding Sniper back quickly let him go with obvious relief. Sniper stumbles over to Spy, looking down at him with whatever the opposite of loving eyes happens to be. Very slowly, with eye-rolling gravitas, Sniper lowers himself close to Spy’s face.

“Play along, you stupid git,” Sniper growls out of earshot from the mercenary crew, and then grabs Spy’s head to crush their mouths together.

It’s one of the more unique passionate kisses Spy has ever received. Sniper’s tongue attempts to go down his throat and Spy almost chokes, but suddenly there’s something that suspiciously feels like a paperclip inside his mouth, and Sniper makes out with the last of Spy’s back molars, the one with the tiny smoke bomb in it. 

Sniper looks a little nauseated, pocketing Spy’s tooth in his cheek, but he gamely eases away, putting one hand over his mouth to feign more tearful emotion as he discreetly spits the tooth into his palm, which unfortunately has the effect of him drooling excessive saliva into his hand.

“...eugh,” mutters one of the ladies.

[chloe-skywalker]

Love Beyond Limits - Chapter 9

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Aunt May Parker x Fem!Reader (Like Family)

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader (Like Family)

Warnings: SOA, Mob AU

(Not very mentioned in this chapter but in over all theme)

Word Count: 3,351

Summary: Bucky meets Aunt May and Peter, also ask's Y/n to go to a gala for him. Bucky Believe she needs a custom dress for this event.

Authors Note: Aunt May has opinions on Bucky. Y/n is getting a custom dress?! For all parts of this series go to 'Series Masterlist'.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“So you’ve been dating this man for how long?” May questioned as her and Y/n sat in a booth filling napkin dispensers.

Y/n had decided to stop by since she really missed Aunt May and Peter.

“Dating for 3 months and officially together for 2 months.” Y/n stated informing her of her relationship status. She hadn’t had time to tell May all about it, only having been able to stop by when the pizzeria was busy. Which left no time for talking.

“And he’s a billionaire, not bad. Business man, again not bad. And he seems to be completely in love with you.” May tilted her head impressed. It seemed like to her Y/n had found one of the good ones. The thing mattering to her the most was that he truly loved and cared about her surrogate daughter.

“I’d say that the last one goes both ways.” Y/n bit her lip shyly looking up at May through her lashes. It hadn’t been that long but Y/n was 95% sure she was in love with Bucky. He had shown her that he was in this for the long hall and didn’t want anyone but her, and that meant everything.

“I’m happy for you sweetheart.” May smiled warmly at the young woman in front of her. It was nice to see her smile and have Y/n’s eyes lit up again with a spark that had been put out when she first came to the city.

“Thanks Aunt May.” Everyone who knew was happy for her, hell Wanda was ecstatic when she came home and told her they were official.

“He’s treating you well right? No funny business? No lying or hiding stuff from you?” May asked, she treated Y/n like a daughter and she didn’t want to see her doubt herself or feel like she had in Charming ever again. May would kill any man who treated her like that again no questions asked.

“No May. He’s being a very well behaved gentleman.” Y/n shook her head with amusement all over her face. She really appreciated how they all didn’t want her to get hurt, and how they were all very quick to jump up and defend her if need be.

“What about the hiding stuff?” May raised a brow. May was ready to beat this Bucky's ass if he was going to pull some Teller shit on Y/n. 

“Is it really hiding if I know what it is he’s not telling me?” Y/n raised a brow and sent Aunt May a smirk. Y/n had a really good idea by now of what Bucky wasn’t telling her. She didn’t want to push him, he’d either teller her in his own time or she’d have to confront him. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that though. Having been around him enough when he had to take a call or leave for something he wouldn’t explain, Y/n was observant enough to notice and she was positive she knew what he was hiding and it didn’t bother her. As long as he doesn’t keep it hidden and eventually tells her.

“Smart girl.” May smirked back pointing at her, proud of Y/n. She was not a dumb girl and May was extremely proud of her for being cautious and not sweeping anything under the rug just because he treated her right. Everything mattered.

“I’ve been burned before and I won’t let it happen again.” Y/n shrugged, she was being cautious this time around. No blinders on when it comes to anything.

“So he’s picking you up here? When?” May changed the subject while grabbing another napkin holder to her left. May felt very honoured that Y/n wanted her and Peter to meet her new man.

“Hey, there’s a black SUV outside with 2 men guarding it and one coming up to the door.” Peter spoke entering the restaurant with a confused look on his face. It wasn’t something that they saw around the restaurant often but it wasn’t something odd to see. Everyone knew about the Mobs that ran different parts of the city. But it was unnerving to Peter to see if right outside a place that felt safe.

“About now. Always on time that one.” Y/n smiled, shaking her head as she checked the time on her phone. Y/n knew the two men guarding the car were probably Steve and Sam, after the bowling Y/n had learned that Steve and Sam worked with Bucky and often drove him since he had to deal with business while on the move.

“Punctual. Good trait to have.” May smiled nodding in approval. This man was already earning points in May's book.

“I agree.” Y/n grabbed her bag and stood up, turning to face her boyfriend as she heard him enter. “Hey.”

“Hello doll. When you said your friend owned a pizzeria I wish I would’ve known it was this one.” Bucky smiled at her, greeting her with a kiss on her cheek to be polite in front of her friends.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” May asked as she to stood from the booth watching the interaction closely. May was protective of those she cared about and Y/n was one of them.

“My friend and the owner May Parker.” Y/n introduced the two moving to stand by Bucky’s side.

“Its a good thing. This is my favorite pizzeria in the city. I order from your restaurant all the time.” Bucky told May as he reached out to shake her hand.

“Well I appreciate the kind words and your business. . .” May shook his hand and waited for him to introduce himself. She of course knew his name from Y/n, but she wanted to test him a little.

“James Barnes. But my friends call me Bucky.” He introduced himself with a warm smile.

“Well its nice to meet you Mr. Barnes.” May smiled.

“Likewise.” Bucky smiled back, oh once she called him ‘Mr. Barnes’ Bucky decided then and there he wanted to win her over and get her to call him ‘Bucky’.

“And this is Peter.” Y/n pointed to Peter who was awkwardly standing to the side filling salt shakers.

“Its nice to meet you.” Bucky nodded at the teenage boy in greeting. He was already thinking of ways he could possibly spend time with Peter, hoping to also win him over and bond with the kid.

“Uh- uh yeah. Nice to meet you to sir.” Peter nodded back awkwardly not knowing how to talk to the seemingly friendly man in a suit who looked very important. Someone Peter wouldn’t normally talk to.

“Come on Peter, let's get back to setting up for the dinner rush. Be safe sweetie.” May kissed Y/n on the head as she walked by.

“I will Aunt May.” Y/n smiled, noticing the sly wink she sent her. Bucky was Aunt May approved which made Y/n giggle. Before the two turned and headed outside, Bucky wrapped his arm around Y/n’s waist.

“I thought you didn’t have any family here?” Bucky asked as they headed out to his car. Bucky listened to everything Y/n says and he was pretty sure she never mentioned having any family on this side of the country. As far as he remembered they all were in California.

“Technically I don’t. Aunt May isn’t my actual Aunt. She’s Peter’s Aunt, the aunt part just kinda stuck. Besides, family doesn’t end with blood. Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.” Y/n explained stopping to look at him as they stood in front of the car's back doors.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Her last sentence was words to live by, Bucky admired them. Most of his friends he considered his family as well.

“So you said you had something to ask me that could only be done in person?” Y/n asked watching him open the door for her to get in the car. Y/n sent him a quick thank’s as she got in with him following suit. Once in the car Y/n greeted Steve and Sam before they raised the partition to give them privacy. As Y/n looked around the SUV, her first time being in it it was obviously customized.

“There’s a gala coming up in a month's time and I was hoping you’d be my date.” Bucky asked once they were off on the road. Steve knew exactly where to drive so Bucky wasn’t worried about telling his two friends where to go.

“Of course I’ll accompany you. But Bucky, what do I wear to this kind of thing?” Y/n furrowed her brow in concern and slight worry since she had no idea on what to wear to that kind of event.

“Don’t worry I already have that taken care of.” He smiled brightly with a hint of mischief in them. Bucky had already thought of everything.

“Do you now?” Of course he had something planned out if she said ‘yes’, and of course she’d say ‘yes’. Y/n wanted to be with him and become part of his world, especially since she saw this relationship for the long term.

“I was hoping you’d say yes. Now all we have to do is go see a friend of mine.” Bucky grabbed her hand and interlocked their fingers together bringing them up to his lips, laying a kiss on the back of her hand.

“What does this friend do?” Y/n asked curiously. Bucky seemed to know people everywhere that do everything.

“She’s a dress designer.” Bucky told her getting giddy to spoil her. He couldn’t wait to see what she would come up with and he knew Y/n would look amazing.

“Bucky-”

Bucky cut her off with a smile. “You don’t have anything to wear to the gala and I like buying you things. You should’ve seen this coming.”

He had been slowly spoiling her, trying to abide by what she had asked of him to slowly integrate her in his world. And even if it was hard for him to hold back he’d do it for her. But it wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Bucky a custom dress that’s gotta cost. . .” Y/n couldn’t, didn’t want to think about how much the dress would cost. She thought her prom dress being almost $300 was expensive, Y/n didn’t want to think about what a normal dress for a gala cost let alone Bucky’s idea of a custom one.

“I’d pay all the money in the world for you to have anything you’ve ever desired. This dress is one small thing in the grand collection you’ll receive over time.” Bucky told her honestly, he gave her hand a squeeze hoping to calm her growing nerves.

“Still getting use to that.” Y/n gave him a shaky smile. She was grateful but it was again another new thing to get use to. Expensive gifts and a guy who wanted to give her the world.

“If it helps you're doing great.” Bucky praised her with a smile on his lips that brightened his whole face and gave his eyes a sparkle.

“Thanks.” Y/n laughed amused at his praise of her in this situation. She hoped he knew though that she didn’t love him because he had money. That wasn’t the case at all.

“So how’s the apartment hunting going?” He asked her curious about her quest to find somewhere of her own. Bucky had wanted to offer her to move into his house with him but he thought it was to soon. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or put her on the spot.

“I found one that I really like and it’s really affordable.” She nodded in confirmation. It had taken a while but she had found a place that she really loved and it wasn’t outrageous in rent.

“When do you move in?” Bucky smiled happily for her.

“I can move in, in a week.” She smiled happily. She loved living with Wanda and Pietro but it was time to get her own place. Besides she was planning on staying, she needed one.

“Need any help moving in?” He asked, hoping he could help move her into her place. Bucky really wanted to see it and help her but he knew he’d see it anyway eventually.

“No, but thanks. I don’t have much and I’m just gonna have the furniture delivered.” Y/n told him. She would’ve loved his help but she didn’t bring much with her in the first place so there wasn’t much to move.

“The offer still stands.” Bucky lifted her hand and kissed the back of her hand again. “And here we are.” He stated as the car came to a stop and he glanced outside.

“Bucky this place looks-” Y/n eyes were wide with shock and amazement.

“Just give in Y/n/n.” Bucky smiled at her, Y/n could read the look on his face. He wanted her to just take the leap and trust him. And she decided to. It’d be easier to just go with it anyway. Plus it’s not like she had a dress fancy enough for this kind of event anyway. They exited the car and headed inside.

“Mr. Barnes Welcome, its good to see you again.” A woman came up to them as they entered with a smile on her face. Y/n thought she was a very beautiful lady, around her age, wearing what she was sure was her own designs paired with heels.

“Jessica I trust you got my message?” Bucky smiled at Jessica, she was an old friend of his sister and she was an amazing dress designer. The best Bucky had seen, so of course he trusted Jessica with making Y/n’s dress.

“Yes, I did. And this must be the lovely Y/n. It’s wonderful to meet you in person.” Jessica nodded and turned her attention to Y/n. Jessica could tell in his message how much he was falling for this girl, along with the fact that Bucky never brought girls to get custom dresses.

“Its nice to meet you to.” Y/n gave her a smile, trying her best to not show how nervous she was.

“So I set aside some different styles to try on and I have the slouch sheet out for us to choose the best color.” Jessica told the couple getting right into it to hopefully ease Bucky’s girl's nerves.

“Perfect.” Bucky was very excited for this. More than he was showing, Bucky felt the need to contain it well to not overwhelm Y/n.

Bucky knew Y/n wasn’t use to these kinds of things, treatments, or price tags. But he wanted to spoil her and it warmed his heart a little to know she wasn’t with him for his money and didn’t care about it. Besides he had more money that he could ever possibly spend.

“Would you come with me Miss Y/n?” Jessica held her hand out gesturing to the fitting rooms.

“Uh, yeah.” Y/n spared a glance at Bucky as she placed her hand in Jessicas, and Bucky could see the anxiousness in her eyes.

“Its okay, doll. I’ll be right out here.” Bucky gestured to the fancy couch by the mirrors as he took a seat. Hoping to assure her he wouldn’t leave her and he was there if she needed him.

Y/n followed Jessica back and they tried on a couple dresses and some of them were complete no’s from both of them.

“I can see why Mr. Barnes is in love with you.” Jessica stated as they both looked in the mirror both women were in awe of the dress’s fit on Y/n.

“Thanks. Your designs are so beautiful.” Y/n blushed at her words, she was such an amazing designer all the dresses Y/n had tried on were gorgeous.

“Thank you. You know you're the only person he’s ever brought here.” Jessica smiled widely at Y/n’s complement. But she felt the need to tell the girl how special she must be to Bucky. Jessica, having been friends so long with the Barnes', knew Bucky was serious about her.

“I am?” Y/n looked at her with shocked eye’s and an overall expression of surprise. She remembered Bucky telling her and Steve, and Sam that he didn’t really date or let anyone in. Y/n assumed it was because of what he wasn’t telling her or women took advantage of his status and money. But it surprised her that he had never brought anyone before. Not even one girl.

“You are.” Jessica nodded in confirmation. She could see how they looked at each other and she was happy for both of them. She couldn’t wait to tell Becca. “Now this one I think is the winner. It looks so good on you.” Jessica stated admiring her dress design on the Y/h/c-ed woman. It was like she designed it for her and it was just waiting for Bucky to bring her into her boutique. 

“I agree. It’s gorgeous.” Y/n smiled excitedly. Surprised but also very happy with how she looked in this dress.

“I think this one we can go show him.” Jessica teased while smirking, they hadn’t shown Bucky any of the dresses yet and they both knew he was getting antsy.

“Finally. Where’s my fashion show?” Bucky playfully groaned, raising a brow at only seeing Jessica exited the fitting room. He could hear the two girls talking but not exactly what about, it made him slightly anxious as to what they could be saying, Bucky was also not used to having Y/n with him but next to him and Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You don’t need to see every dress, besides we have our winner.” Jessica rolled her eyes as she walked Y/n over to the pedestal by the mirrors to show off the dress they both loved.

“What do you think?” Y/n asked anxiously waiting for his opinion while he just kept staring at her.

“I think it was made for you.” Was all Bucky could think to say. The dress just extenuated everything he loved about her figure.

“Now we just need to pick a color. Black will not do for a gala.” Jessica clapped excitedly and went to bring over the color options. All the model dresses were in black to just give the idea of fit and style.

“Do you have a color in mind?” Bucky asked moving to stand near Y/n as Jessica brought the color slouches over to them.

“I believe a royal blue or amethyst purple would look very nice.” Jessica offered her opinion, the two colors would look great with Y/n’s hair color and skin tone.

“Both sound beautiful.” Y/n chimed in loving both those colors.

“Surprise us. Why don’t you get changed and I’ll pay.” Bucky smiled at Y/n sending her back to the changing rooms so she could put her own clothes back on.

“Okay.” Y/n nodded heading back to change.

“Make it in both and send them to me.” Bucky waited till he heard the dressing room door shut before looking to Jessica and told her to make it in both. He already knew she would do more than just a color change to make them more different.

Jessica laughed, shaking her head. “The poor girl doesn’t even realize that you would’ve brought every dress she tried on in every color if we would’ve showed them to you.”

Bucky smiled tilting his head, holding out his credit card. “She has an idea but not to the full extent.”’

“She’s a keeper. Don’t lose that one.” Jessica pointed at him before taking the card from between his fingers.

“I don't plan on it.” Bucky stated truthfully. He did not plan on losing her. Not if he could help it.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @padawancat97 @maryvibess @gruffle1 @starkleila @bonnyclydecat @bruher @vicmc624 @annawilk @simonsbluee @marvelobsessed134

[anxiety0-0]

PJO Headcanons

Mostly before canon and centering around camp half-blood and Percabeth bc I'm biased

Athena cabin made it a game to see if they could find out unclaimed campers' godly parent. There's a point system and everything, the result of this are bringing unclaimed campers into their presumed parent's cabin (if they have one) to see if they get smote. By the time canon starts, Annabeth is in the lead with 17 correct guesses

Due to so many unclaimed campers, unless someone had a REALLY interesting entrance (cough Percy cough), there's no betting pool on whose the parent.

Annabeth is completely okay with breaking most mortal laws bc she was basically raised by a Hermes kid. On that note, she's been honorary adopted by the Hermes cabin bc she helps with scheming pranks and running the camp's black market

Camp half-blood totally has a black market run by the Hermes cabin with Annabeth's help in regulating it. She's not apart of smuggling anything but she does regulate prices based on supply and demand

Athena and Hephaestus cabin members cannot be trusted to take care of themselves, instead the Aphrodite cabin steps up to force them into taking care of themselves. Due to this, these campers are usually close

In contrast, Ares and Athena cabins are locked in a bitter rivalry although no other cabin knows why (They're both children of war gods and this is the only way they'll get stimulation. Both cabins understand this so they try to playfully kill each other)

Year round campers are feral. Like come on, 20 kids alone in the woods with basically no adult supervision apart from Chiron?? Someone is getting killed and it's not a sacrifice for once

Percy's and Annabeth's relationship are based in acts of service. Most of the time, these are acts of sacrifice but don't think that murder is off the table for either of them

Percabeth has a lot of lovely dovely moments but they also have moments where people think they're trying to tear each other's throat out. They both known each other since they were 12, while that means they know each other more than themselves that also means a ton of blackmail and bickering

I don't like how Annabeth insults Percy one-sidedly sometimes, so Percy gets to do it back to her!! Both of them know it's playful bantering something something about Percy being comfortable in pushing her away knowing she'll come back and he doesn't have to be one who follows blah blah on Annabeth understanding it's not an attack on her and her ablities

Annabeth is actually super critical on how other gods treat their kids (thank Luke for that) but is completely blind to Athena's actions until moa. Mostly bc if her father and step mother didn't want her, and neither did her mother, then who wants her at all?

Percy is the one who cooks between them, Annabeth has never touched a stove to cook. Like 7-year old runway? To a camp that cooks their meals for them? Kitchen is probably guarded by monsters? No way to leave without danger? There’s no way in hell she knows more than roasting over an open fire

On that note, I doubt she's actually knows any modern events unless they were really big. Unless the Hermes cabin got her a kindle (created in 2007, thus she'd be like 10) for her birthday. Which they totally would so

When Annabeth was younger, she got away with everything bc she was young and Thaila's death. Thus all of the (dead) older campers had a soft spot for her. This is lead to an attitude developing and she commonly forgets that before coming to camp, most new half-bloods don't know about myths being real

At the beginning of canon, Annabeth is more okay with touch than Percy. Mostly bc kids don't know personal space and this is a camp filled with children and she's a year-rounder. Percy was also fresh out of Smelly Gabe

[scorpiomoon-444]

Straight to the Heart

anon’s request: “Can I please request a fic of Edmund Pevensie falling for Susan’s best friend? She’s Edmund’s age and super innocent and naive? Maybe where Edmund is trying to flirt with her but she’s too naive to realize it and so Susan has to spell it out for her?? Thank you!”

pairing: edmund pevensie x reader

word count: 2k

a/n: thanks for the request anon! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it x

Sunlight drips like honey through the ancient oaks, dappling the forest clearing near Aslan’s How where Susan trains her archers. The crisp scent of pine and trampled grass fills your lungs as you line up your shot, bowstring drawn tight beneath trembling fingers. Susan had just begun the trainings of her new recruits, those whom she believes has the potential to be great at the skills she possesses.

“Steady,” Susan says beside you, her voice soft but sure. She gently adjusts your elbow, her cool fingers brushing your skin. “Lower your shoulders. Breathe with the wind, not against it.”

Upon her recruitment, you couldn’t help but hesitate at first. She’s your best friend, and a Queen, at that. You are a healer, always have been. Far from playing an active role in the kingdom.

You exhale shakily, nodding. “I just— I don’t want to let you down.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Susan’s mouth. “You couldn’t if you tried. Now, loose.”

Your fingers release. The arrow whistles through the air— thunk. It hits the target’s edge. Not the bullseye, but not the roots either. You break into a grin.

Spending most of your time around Susan and her siblings—you’re often present for their trainings and have had your fair share of practice battles with them. Though, nothing serious, amidst it all—Susan caught your aptitude.

“Better,” Susan praises, patting your arm.

Before you can notch another arrow, a familiar, warm voice echoes from the tree line. “What’s this? Narnia’s finest warriors in action?”

You turn just as Edmund emerges from the shadows, hands clasped behind his back like he’s pretending he didn’t come here for you. His hair catches the sunlight, his grin sharp and impossibly fond.

“Edmund.” Susan crosses her arms, one eyebrow lifted. “I thought you were with Trumpkin and the Council?”

Susan's vision of you becoming a great archer came with a doubt that crept into your mind—fear, even. Her words to you alone couldn’t get through to you at her idea of your recruitment. Though, Edmund—as someone your age, and loyal friend, knew exactly what to say, so that you saw yourself as gifted and proficient as he does.

“Was. Tedious business.” He shrugs, eyes sliding to you. Susan places a hand on her hip, clearing her throat. Edmund reads her, unable to hold back a grin. “Just checking in on the troops. Making sure my sister hasn’t turned you all into porcupines,” he teases, but his eyes drift to you once more. “Figured I’d check how our best new recruit is faring. How’s the aim today?”

You laugh nervously. “I nearly hit the center.”

“Nearly?” Edmund tuts playfully. He strides closer, inspecting your target with an exaggerated squint. “I’d best stand behind you, then. Safer for my heart.”

You giggle, missing the way his ears flush red. He shifts, hands brushing yours as he pretends to demonstrate proper form, and your stomach does a funny flip. You’re too busy focusing on Susan’s next instruction to see the way she watches you both—like she’s reading a story written in the air.

After training, you help Lucy gather arrows that strayed into the brambles. She appears with a basket of fresh-picked berries, cheeks pink and eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’re getting good,” she says, handing you one. Sweet juice bursts on your tongue. “Edmund’s very invested in your progress, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s so kind to everyone,” You say with a shy grin.

Trumpkin stomps past, muttering about wayward arrows. “Kind? Hmph. That boy’s got less subtlety than a centaur with—”

Lucy elbows him gently.

You blink, unbeknownst to their topic of conversation, which you assume is just playful banter between the two. You continue discussing about the trainings. “Susan’s so patient with me.”

“She’s patient with you,” Trumpkin grumbles as he passes by to retrieve an arrow. “Not so much with your princely admirer there.”

You tilt your head, confusion very clearly depicted on your features. “Princely admirer?”

Lucy giggles, but Trumpkin just shakes his head and grumbles under his breath something about reckless royals and lovesick cubs before stomping away to retrieve an arrow that somehow ended up in a tree trunk.

You frown, puzzled, as Lucy offers you a berry. “Don’t worry about Trumpkin,” she whispers. “He’s always grumpy when he’s right.”

The next day, Edmund shows up again — this time claiming to deliver a quiver of new arrows, and your favorite training gloves, freshly mended. You nearly trip over your own feet in surprise.

“I thought you might’ve worn these through,” he says, voice casual but eyes warm.

You take them with a shy smile. “Thank you, Edmund.”

“I thought you’d be busy with Council,” you say, watching him sling the quiver over his shoulder with ease.

“I was. But I’d rather be here.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but his smile is soft, a little shy around the edges.

Before he can step back, you fumble in your pocket for the little charm you spent half the night stitching—a small strip of embroidered ribbon. You hold it out to him with both hands and innocent eyes.

“For you,” you say. “For your sword. So you’ll always come back safe.”

Edmund stills. For a heartbeat, he’s all boyish wonder—cheeks tinged pink, lips parted in surprise. He takes it like you’ve handed him a priceless treasure.

His hand brushes yours as he takes it. “You made this for me?” he asks softly, voice almost lost to the wind. His brown eyes look at you like he’s just struck gold.

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” You can’t help the blush that creeps to your cheeks—suddenly a little flustered at your own actions. But you are so incredibly grateful to have someone like him in your life—when Susan wasn’t there, he always was.

“Susan said archers used to tie charms on their bows for luck. I thought… maybe you’d like one, too.”

He laughs softly, but it’s not mocking. He loops the ribbon around the hilt at his side, fingers lingering over the knot. “I’ll keep it with me always, love.”

You smile, cheeks warm, oblivious to the way he’s staring at you like you’ve shot an arrow straight into his chest.

Days pass like this: you practice, Edmund visits, Susan watches. But one evening, the training goes long.

You stand behind the line, arrow drawn, when Edmund saunters up and gives you a smile—you can’t help but feel flustered at the way his smile reaches his glistening eyes. Your hands slip, sending the arrow skittering harmlessly into the grass.

You squeak out a mortified laugh while Edmund just chuckles, clearly delighted to be your undoing—and moves closer to you.

You draw back another arrow, determined to prove you can do this without Susan’s assistance today–determined to finally hit that elusive center. You want to prove yourself to her, and the other recruits too.

Your fingers ache from practice, your bow heavy in your palms. You take a long inhale, and exhale deeply—the way Susan taught you.

Edmund drifts over—not with a message or fresh quiver this time, but with that familiar teasing glint in his brown eyes. He circles behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him at your back.

“Mind your grip,” he murmurs, voice low and patient. You open your mouth to protest, but his hands come around yours without warning.

Rough, warm—steadying.

He curls his fingers around yours, guiding the angle of your wrist.

Your breath catches, and his thumb brushes your knuckles, lingering like a secret promise.

“Better,” he says, so close you could turn your head and your nose would brush his cheek. “Hold it just like that.”

You nod dumbly, heart stuttering in your chest. You tell yourself he’s just being dutiful—like the King he is, guiding every Narnian for the best— never suspecting the way he’s smiling, gaze fixed on the flush blooming across your cheeks. You’re too stunned to think, let alone shoot straight.

When you finally loose the arrow, it goes flying–though only to the outer edge of the target, and you pray to Aslan that Susan did not witness it.

Edmund huffs out a soft laugh, his fingers still wrapped around yours for a heartbeat too long. “Easy, love. We’ll keep at it.”

You stifle back a small chuckle. “Thank you, Edmund—for always helping out. You make a wonderful King.”

Behind you, Susan drops her bow with a muffled thud. Her eyes flick between you and her brother, disbelief depicted on her features.

Later, she pulls you aside as the others pack up for the day. “You do realize he’s not coming here for me, don’t you?”

You blink at her for a moment, completely bewildered. “Who’s not coming for you?”

Susan just stares, perplexed. “Edmund. My brother. The one who finds any excuse to ‘check in’ every time you so much as breathe near a target.”

You still for a moment, processing your best friend’s words. The color red paints over your cheeks, evidently flustered. “What? No— he’s just being helpful. He’s a King–”

“Y/N,” Susan interrupts before you could try to convince yourself otherwise with another excuse. “He’s in love with you,” she says plainly—exasperated but fond. “And you’re the only mark he can’t seem to hit.”

You stare at the ground, your heart beating wildly. “I— I don’t know...”

Susan sighs and looks at you fondly, pressing her forehead to yours. “Try looking at him the way you look at your bow. You’ll see it.”

The next dawn is soft and misty, the air full of birdsong and dew. You spot Edmund before you reach the clearing. He’s waiting, arms crossed, foot tapping like he’s been there for ages, and his eyes light up the second they find yours.

You take a steadying breath, your boots crunching on damp grass.

Look at him properly.

“Edmund?” you call, voice trembling but clear. “Would you…” Your nerves have you pause for a second. “Stay and watch me today?”

A responding grin blooms across his face, so pure and impossibly sweet, it makes your heart ache. “Try and make me leave.”

You step up to the line, and draw the arrow back.

You inhale slowly, exhaling deeply—steadying yourself. Your gaze flicks to Edmund for a second.

Look at him the way you look at your bow, Susan’s voice echoes in your head.

For that fraction of a second, you spot it—a glint in his eyes. Something gone unnoticed before.

Loose. The arrow flies straight and true— thunk. Dead center. A perfect bullseye.

Before you can even gasp, Edmund cheers so loud that a startled bird takes flight from the canopy above. He rushes forward, scooping you up by the waist. You squeal, half laughing, half breathless, clinging to his shoulders as he he spins you once, then twice, before setting you down carefully—hands still resting on your hips like he can’t quite let go.

“You did it,” he murmurs when he sets you down, his nose brushing yours. “Straight to the heart.”

Your pulse drums in your ears and your voice trembles, but you’re braver than you’ve ever been. “Susan told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you weren’t coming here for her,” you say shyly. “Are you here for me?”

His eyes darken, soft and fierce all at once. He lifts your hand and presses it to his chest, right over his heart. “I was yours long before that charm, love.” The little ribbon you made swings gently on the hilt of his sword.

Your laugh comes out sweet and warm, your heart dancing under your ribs. You lean in, pressing a shy kiss to his cheek. He tilts his head, eyes shining, and drops a gentle kiss to your forehead—like sealing a promise neither of you quite know how to speak yet.

Behind you, Susan’s voice rings out, half stern, half fond: “Try not to distract my archers too much, your Highness!”

Edmund pulls back just enough to smirk, eyes still locked on yours. “She’ll forgive me,” he whispers, fingers brushing your cheek. “You were worth every missed mark.”

And in that sunlit clearing, with the birds singing and the ribbon tied firm around his sword, you believe him.

[chroniclesofskz]

Boy Next Door

Felix Lee was the boy next door that every girl in the neighborhood talked about. With a sprinkle of freckles on his nose and cheeks, deep brown eyes that seemed to bore into your soul, and a jawline sharp enough to cut through the thickest slice of life, he was the epitome of the heartthrob that walked among them. His skin was pale, almost translucent, which made his muscles pop even more, standing tall at 5'7 with a slender frame that had somehow packed on a surprising amount of definition. His heart-shaped lips, a feature that was the envy of many, remained a mystery to most as they rarely curled into a smile, especially in the direction of Y/N.

Y/N, on the other hand, was the kind of girl who didn't quite fit into the same mold as the others. Standing at a delicate 5'1, she had a slender build that was more suited for a ballet dancer than a swimsuit model. Her eyes were a gentle shade of blue, often hidden behind the lenses of her glasses, and her chest was more modest than the voluptuous figures that seemed to grace the covers of every magazine. A sensitive soul with a heart as vast as the ocean, she had been crushing on her neighbor since the day he had moved in, a mere 7-year-old with a mischievous smile and a penchant for adventure. Yet this summer, everything had changed.

Felix had transformed before her eyes, his body sculpted by the relentless sun and his heart seemingly hardened by the endless parade of girls that cycled through his bedroom window. Each week brought a new face, each one more beautiful and more confident than the last. They strutted around in their skimpy outfits, flaunting what they had, while Y/N felt like she was shrinking into the shadows of her own home. She watched them with a mix of curiosity and envy, her heart aching every time she saw him touch one of them in a way that seemed so foreign and intimate. What did she do to deserve this? Why couldn't she be the one to make him laugh until his stomach hurt or to feel his arms around her in the quiet moments of the night?

Y/N's feelings of isolation grew as the summer stretched on. Her once unshakable belief in their unspoken bond had crumbled, replaced by a deep sense of abandonment. She felt like the invisible girl, the one that existed only in the background of his life. The one he used to whisper secrets to under the cover of darkness, now reduced to a quick glance or a forced smile. It was like he had forgotten her entirely, like she didn't matter anymore. The pain was unbearable, and she found herself retreating into the safety of her thoughts, her mind a tumultuous sea of doubt and anger.

Her envy grew like a vine, wrapping around her heart and squeezing tight. She couldn't help but compare herself to the girls he brought home, each one more stunning than the last. They had what she didn't: confidence, curves, and a seemingly endless supply of charm. Their laughter echoed through the thin walls that separated their houses, a taunting reminder of her own loneliness. She hated the way her stomach twisted when she saw their reflection in his eyes, the way he looked at them as if they were the sun, and she was just a fading star. She hated feeling insecure, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't enough for him.

The silence between them was deafening. What used to be filled with the sweet whispers of shared secrets and the sound of their hearts beating in sync was now a chasm of misunderstanding and unspoken pain. Every time she saw him, she felt a part of herself die a little more. The boy who had promised her the world had become a stranger, a ghost of the person she had once known. Yet, she couldn't ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when he was near, the way her breath caught in her throat when their eyes met for the briefest of moments.

Y/N had always been the shy, sweet girl with a heart as vast as the ocean, eager to take in the world without judgment. But the summer had changed her, too. The constant reminder of her inadequacies had turned her into a storm cloud of emotions, ready to burst at the slightest provocation. The rain outside mirrored her own tumultuous feelings, a silent witness to her pain and longing. As the weeks went by, she found solace in the pages of her books, escaping into worlds where love was pure and unblemished by reality.

One particularly rainy afternoon, she had had enough. The arguing from her parents' room had reached a crescendo, and she knew she couldn't bear to hear it anymore. They had been fighting like this for what felt like an eternity, and the weight of their impending divorce was crushing her. She slipped out of the house, her feet carrying her to the one place she had always felt safe: the treehouse they had built together when they were children. It was a symbol of their friendship, a bastion of innocence in a world that had grown so cruel.

As she climbed the rickety ladder, the rain beating down on her, she couldn't help but feel like she was climbing away from her troubles. But she also felt like she was climbing away from the one person who had ever truly understood her: Felix. The treehouse had always been their place to escape from the world, but now it felt like a prison of memories. She sat on the damp wooden floor, her knees to her chest, and let the sobs come. She didn't know how long she'd been there when she heard the ladder creak, but she was too lost in her own grief to care.

Felix poked his head in, looking as surprised to see her as she was to see him. His eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and concern. "Y/N, what are you doing out here in the rain?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine worry. "Why are you crying?"

Wiping her eyes, she glared at him through the mess of her emotions. "Why do you even care?" she spat out, the anger bubbling to the surface. "You've had a different girl here every other day this summer! You don't care about me, or what's going on with me!" The words stung as they left her lips, but she didn't care. She needed to get this out, needed to make him feel a fraction of what she'd felt watching him from her window, her heart breaking a little more each time.

Felix looked at her, his expression a mix of shock and pain. He hadn't realized the impact of his actions, too caught up in his own whirlwind of hormones and confusion to see the damage he'd been doing. "Is everything okay at home?" he asked tentatively, trying to navigate the minefield of her emotions.

"No, everything is not okay!" she screamed, the tears flowing freely now. "I think my parents are getting a divorce, and you wouldn't even know that because you've been too busy playing boyfriend to everyone but me!" The rain outside seemed to mimic the tempest raging inside her. She felt exposed and raw, but the words just kept coming. "Why did you have to change? Why did you have to ignore me and make me feel like I'm not good enough?"

Felix's eyes widened at the revelation, his heart squeezing in his chest. He had no idea things had gotten so bad. He had been so self-absorbed in his own quest to forget his feelings for her that he'd missed the signs of her pain. He took a step towards her, his hand outstretched in an attempt to comfort her, but she flinched away. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the weight of his actions finally sinking in. "I've been a terrible friend."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of the boy she had once known. The boy who had promised to be there for her, no matter what. "Why?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you push me away?"

Felix swallowed hard, knowing he had to tell her the truth. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, the rain soaking his clothes and matting his hair to his forehead. "It's because I love you," he said, the words barely above a whisper. "And I didn't know what to do with those feelings, so I tried to ignore them by being with other girls. But it didn't work. I can't stop thinking about you."

The admission hung in the air, the rain seemingly pausing for a moment to let the gravity of his words sink in. Y/N stared at him, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "What?" she breathed, her heart racing. Could it be true? Did he really feel the same way she did?

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've always loved you," he said, his voice stronger now. "But I thought if I slept with other girls, the feelings would go away. But all it did was make me realise that there's no one else I want to be with."

Y/N's heart was racing so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest. She had dreamt of this moment for so long, but now that it was here, she didn't know what to do. Without another word, she stood up and pulled him closer, her lips finding his in a fierce kiss that spoke volumes. The rain pelted against their faces, mixing with their tears as the years of pent-up emotions spilled over. The treehouse that had once been their sanctuary of innocence now became the stage for a passion that had been simmering just beneath the surface.

Felix's hands roamed over her body, feeling the curves she had always been so self-conscious about. He peeled off her shirt and bra, revealing her pale, perfect skin to the damp, humid air. He took in the sight of her with a reverence that made her feel beautiful for the first time in what felt like forever. He kissed her neck, her collarbones, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She gasped and leaned into him, the feeling of his hard chest pressing against her softness making her feel alive in a way she had never known before.

He reached down and unbuttoned her shorts, sliding them off her hips along with her panties. She stepped out of them, her legs trembling slightly from a mix of nerves and anticipation. He looked at her with such raw hunger that she knew this was it, the moment she had been waiting for. He kissed her again, harder this time, and she felt the warmth of his tongue slip into her mouth. Her hands found the hem of his shirt and she pulled it over his head, revealing the defined muscles she had only ever seen from a distance.

He laid her down on the makeshift bed of blankets and pillows, the rain creating a rhythmic backdrop to their frantic movements. He kissed her again, his hands exploring the contours of her body as she arched into his touch. He was gentle but firm, his movements speaking of a passion that had been building for years. She felt his erection pressing against her, and she knew what was going to happen next. She took a deep breath and nodded when he asked if she was sure.

The moment was intense and raw, as if all the emotions they had bottled up over the years had come to a boil. He entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to the new sensation. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she felt a brief flash of pain, but it was quickly replaced by a pleasure so intense she thought she might pass out. He watched her face closely, his eyes full of love and concern, asking her if she was okay. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and whispered, "Felix, I want this. I want you."

And with that, he began to move, setting a pace that matched the beating of the rain outside. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her body responding in ways she had only ever imagined in her most secret of fantasies. He kissed her neck, her chest, her stomach, whispering sweet nothings into her ear that sent shivers down her spine. Her nails dug into his back as the sensation grew, her body tightening around him like a vice.

The moment she came, it was like the storm had reached its peak. She screamed his name, her hips bucking as waves of pleasure washed over her. He followed soon after, his own release mixing with hers as they clung to each other, both lost in the intensity of what they had just shared. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, in their treehouse, the rain a soft lullaby as they lay tangled in each other's arms, finally admitting what they had both known all along.

Felix pulled out gently, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back his own emotions. He leaned over her, brushing the rainwater from her cheeks with his thumbs, and kissed her forehead tenderly. "It's going to be okay," he murmured into her hair, his voice soothing and full of promise. He wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her close as if he could absorb her pain and make it his own. "I'm not going anywhere, not now, not ever."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes still shimmering with tears. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but in his arms she felt safe, like she could finally let go of the fear that had been gnawing at her insides. She nodded, her voice shaky as she whispered, "I believe you."

They laid there for what felt like hours, the rain slowly subsiding to a gentle patter on the roof above them. The air was thick with the scent of their passion, a heady mix of sweat and rain and the promise of something new and beautiful. He held her close, his heart beating in time with hers as they both tried to come to terms with what had just happened. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered honesty, a stark contrast to the lies and misunderstandings that had defined their summer.

As the storm outside grew quieter, so did the tumult inside of them. The pain of their confessions had been washed away, leaving only the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the sweetness of their shared breaths. The treehouse, once a symbol of their friendship, had become a testament to the love that had been growing between them for so long. They lay there, entwined in the aftermath, feeling more connected than they ever had before.

Felix stroked her hair, his eyes searching hers for any sign of regret. But what he saw there was something entirely different. It was hope, pure and unbridled, the kind that only comes from finding someone who truly sees you and loves you for all that you are. And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall around them, he realized that he had been wrong all along. She wasn't just the girl next door; she was the girl he was meant to love, the one who had been there all along, waiting patiently for him to come to his senses.

And so, as the raindrops danced on their skin and the leaves whispered their secrets, they promised each other that they would face the storms of life together, no matter what the future held. They had found their safe harbour in each other, and nothing could ever change that.

[lustrous-dawn]

A shadow flying overhead broke from his memories. 

The scene had transformed. The sounds of water trickled beneath his feet. He looked ahead to see a lone feather floating on the surface. 

A sudden gust of wind knocked him on his rear. He stared in awe as a Ho-oh touched down before, her radiance blinding him. 

Her name came out as a breathless whisper. “R-Reiko.”

Zhen came out of his stupor with a sigh. God after God, he thought he would have gotten used to it by now. His eyes shifted towards Reiko bathing in the water. She was the strangest of them all. 

Caelus had a composure about him–dignified, strength personified. Zhen couldn't imagine standing beside him, let alone going toe to toe in a fight with him. Zhen was brave when it was needed, but he was surprised the old dragon didn't rebuke him for it–even smiled for having the nerve to challenge him. 

Susano was much more feral and jagged, with a growl in their voice with every word they spoke. He sensed the same feral-ness from Caelus, but more honed and refined. It was a muted sound in the background until it came out when he least expected it. 

Reiko was different. She was like the shallow water in front of him: pristine. He expected to be swept off his feet, lost in her personality. Her appearance did a number on him, riveted by the silver feathers upon her head. They were like tassels, gently flowing within the slight breeze–her eyes were old, telling of the multitude of lives she had lived.

“That was you, then?” He asked, a palm over his chest, recalling the insistent, uncomfortable fluttering he would feel around his chest on occasion.

She nodded. “I couldn’t intrude upon your dreams. It felt wrong of me to disturb your pleasant dreaming, but it was difficult to step into your mental plane without causing harm.” She leaned in, mere inches away. Her hot breath blew his hair as she exhaled, searching his face. “You are alright, yes?”

Zhen backed away. 

“Oh!” She pulled back. “Yes, personal space must be respected!” She held out her wings in a defensive manner. “I am sorry.” 

Zhen gave her a strange look.

She cocked her head. “Was it something I said?” 

“You aren’t… what I thought you would be like,” he said cautiously. 

She laughed. Her laughter filled the space between them. He took a breath he didn’t know he was holding, sagging to the ground. “What’s so funny?” His voice was low and hoarse. 

“You aren’t the first one to say this,” she said, the laughter remaining in her eyes. “I have a flightiness to me, you humans would say.” 

“I’ll say,” he exhaled. He raked a hand through his hair, noting the bags beneath his eyes in his reflection. 

He began to ponder over the latest revelations, frustration stamped on his face. 

How much of it was real? 

He knew, without a doubt, that he hated Akimitsu. And hate was a rare emotion for the laid-back Zhen. It simmered inside him until it came up to a boil.

“What happened to her?” His voice was taut. Even Reiko cocked her head at the sudden shift. 

But she knew what he was talking about. “She went mad when she lost the love of her life. You've felt our anger when it surges through you, no? We are highly… emotional.” 

Love? Emotional isn't scratching the surface, lady. Sometimes he was prone to anger, but it left just as quickly. Zhen scratched the back of his head.  “It sucks.” Meekly said words. 

A twinkling laugh from the Ho-oh. “Hoh, that is putting it mildly.”

Silence stretched between them after that. Only the sounds of the stream trickling down the brook.

“Zhen,” she started softly, breaking the silence. “I want to rest.” 

There was a stirring in her gut as she met the eyes of her current carnation. His expression was grim, his gaze serious.

She started in a quiet voice, “With every rebirth, I have ‘taken the back seat’ as the humans say,” she softly chuckled. “Humanity has such a wonderful way with words.” She paused, a twinkle in her eyes, “I have always been watching from the window, witnessing our lives play out before my eyes.”

Reiko grew somber, her eyes sad as she spoke, “Our first experience was a shocking one. We were such a wobbly little thing we were, stumbling over our talons. We could scarcely lift our head. It was too heavy for our growing body. We were so… optimistic,” she breathed, craning her head to the sky. 

“Will we see the sun someday?” An innocent voice, an echo from the past. 

The scent of earth filled her nostrils, the sound of talons tapping on, struggling to root themselves in place. She sought enrichment, looking for substance as she pecked at the soil.

Days became months.

And months turned into years… 

The only comfort was the sound of the water outside the surrounding walls and the imaginary gentle voice of Reiko filling her little heart with a ray of hope and dreams. 

“I whispered my greatest tales to her,” Her expression growing shuttered. “I gave her a promise of a better tomorrow, a better future,” she trailed off. Silently her eyes flooded with tears. 

“Will you take my place?” The words were but a feeble croak. 

She exhaled a shaky breath, furiously shaking her head.

She raised her head up high, chest swelled, eyes filled with fierce pride. 

Reiko inhaled softly, her voice growing more pronounced, booming across the field. “My next life was a tad delayed. My awareness had awoken rather late and I found myself soaring faster than I had ever gone through the clouds.

Boisterous, raring to go at any given chance. We charged into new territory, battling those who got in our way, claiming theirs for ourselves. My new self viewed my gentle presence as a nuisance, believing I would only hamper his goals in betterment. 

Filled with stubbornness and pride, my new self rarely sought my prior wisdom unless he was truly out of depth. 

“We sought challenge after challenge, wanting to prove our might. We left this world as a warrior, meeting our end at the jaws of a better.”

We sat and watched the first rain of the region. Drenched, we plowed through the storm as it drenched us. We laughed at it, taunting the storm. We vowed we would dominate this place and take it for our own.

“I would say it was for the best. His ego enlarged his head tenfold, you see.”

They shared a short laugh at that. 

“I have lost count of the many lives I have lived. Each experience I have cherished all the same. Each has taught me something new. 

“And lastly, Akimitsu. She was my Love.” Her voice dipped with tenderness and affection. “She was the mother I was never able to be for this region. Motherhood was a part of my life I never truly attained, but through her, I felt it–the feeling of watching my children grow and prosper. Hers was a life I was truly envious of. 

Beasts flanked either side of her, insistent on remaining close, seeking her attention and guidance. A brief pause and a gentle touch, the beasts took off to parts unknown, pace quick as if they were on a mission. With a heavy heart, she watched them until they were out of sight, a prayer on her lips.

Stay safe.

“My past reincarnations have allowed me to put things into perspective. We, Ho-oh, are long-lived beings. There was no map or rules for me to follow. After all, I am the first,” she laughed. “Just like you. You are in uncharted territory, my human. But don't allow it to dictate your fate and chart a safe path ahead, only you can begin for yourself.” 

____

Zhen quirked a brow. “Another human phase?” He tried to make brevity of her confession. He quickly found that he couldn't.

She lived 

“I made it, myself,” she chuckled. 

“Say I made this path. So what? I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. What she did was wrong. I was ready to die out there.” 

Reiko went silent.

A quiet heartbeat, two, and he found himself beneath her wing, pressed close to her body. 

Upon brushing against her form, he felt what felt like a surge of energy through his veins. Fear took root as he felt what felt like a thousand suns slam through his gut, taking his breath away. It sank into his very core, threatening to steal away all that was his.

He panicked, breath quickening. His hands pushed against her frame, but she held him firm.

He felt it. 

All that she was. Her sorrow, her power, her radiant, iridescent golden flame encompassing his small flame, coaxing it to grow, to flourish. 

He began to glow, his veins burning bright with her power. It was old yet strangely gentle, making him feel heady. 

He relaxed in her hold.

“I will never understand what went through her mind when she made that choice.” She murmured, her voice close to his ear. “What she did was wrong, Zhen. Not once but twice did she extend beyond her power, and it backlashed upon her in the worst of ways,” her voice grew harsh at this, “But I believe it was her only recourse to fix what she had caused.”

“Why me?”

She looked away, and he followed her glance. The lone golden feather lay motionlessly on the water. “You proved your worth. Despite all the trials and tribulations, your heart remains pure. She used the feather as a medium to make you the Ho-oh you are now.” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he hung his head, “I never wanted this,” he whispered, his voice hollow. 

“I know.” Her hold tightened. “I will try to prevent as much instability as I can, but you are conflicted. This conflict will be your ruin if you don’t choose. If you don’t believe in yourself, this doubt will consume you. Any hesitation and this fire will attempt to devour you alive.”

A look of contempt formed in her eyes. “I have never done what she has. Your body is unique. I know you are more than compatible with it; otherwise, you wouldn't be standing.”

Zhen swallowed, and his thoughts swam. 

Reiko continued on, aware of the stress coursing through him. “Akimitsu broke the cycle by making you and imparting our flame inside of you.”

The tip of her wing brushed against his abdomen, his chest. “There is a war inside to see who will win between you and this fire. I have been suppressing it but I am only a mere fragment.” Even now, her form was growing more translucent, the warmth waning. “In her death, most of my spirit went with her.”

“Nice knowing I have a living flame that wants to kill me, huh? I’ll add it to the list I have along with Susano,” he grumbled.

“Susano?” Her voice went flat. “What, did he… did he try to kill you?” 

He found himself flat on the ground, dazed, Reiko shrieking overhead. “That old dragon! Once I get my wings around his neck, I'll strangle him!”

…

He blinked. The whiplash of her actions was beginning to make him stir-crazy. She was… flowy, animated. For a long-lived ancient, Reiko acted younger than she was. 

She peered at him on the ground, her expression apologetic. “I'm sorry. That counterpart of mine is stubborn. Herds of Tauros stomping across the plains would never surpass him. If he knew I was here, he shouldn't have attacked you.”

Zhen rose into a sitting position, fixing his disheveled hair. “I think he does,” he muttered. Recalling Susano's growl at the Gala only made him more unsettled. “I have no idea how to fix this,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You train! As that kind woman was instructing you before! Remember the sensation!” She puffed up her chest, pointing at him with a stern wing. “Think of your last earnest training. Do you recall the feeling of it?”

Zhen inclined his head. “I remember the control.” The only true training sessions he had were with Ginjiro. While there were others, it was the only time he felt he could go all out without harming another. 

“Control! Confidence!” She coaxed his head to look at her, smiling. Her dazzling eyes nearly blinded him. “You have this. I felt it! There's greatness inside you!” 

“I'm not great like you, lady. I'm just…” A human saddled with the responsibility of the region. 

“You don't have to be like me. You've set a goal that is nearly impossible to meet. Firstly, start small. Soon, you will be a force to be reckoned with! But you are Zhen. The first human made a Ho-oh. And you have done remarkably so far.”

Where had he heard those words before? He uttered something similar to Aki at the Gala. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” a wry smile. 

The tips of her wing lifted his head. “Listen closely, Zhen. Take apart this fake… ruse. Renew your belief in your strength and resolve. Place faith in yourself and let it burn. Only you can stand tall and endure what tomorrow may yet to offer.”

Was he Zhen, the prince? The swordsman? The Ho-oh?

His eyes gaze upon her form and he realizes then. No matter what shape and form she took over time, she retained her sense of self throughout the eons. 

Her spirit was unbending, filled with hope and a tenderness he could only describe as motherly.

All the experiences melded into one being, all still a part of her. 

Reiko, the first Ho-oh.

His lips curved into a slight smile. The luminous ring within his eyes burns brightly in affirmation. 

Reiko beamed. “You will be strong, indeed. I am sure of it. But there's a teensy bit of an issue.” He waited, noting the hesitation. “I will need Susano's aid when you are properly trained.” 

She knew how to take wind from his sails. He sighed loudly, sinking back on the back of his palms. “He- They,” he corrected himself, “will kill me,” Zhen said flatly. That'll take getting used to.

She didn't seem to notice, “They won't! I assure you!”

“Tell that to my tail feathers they ripped out of my ass.” And the death glare at the party. Any hope he had of asking was quickly dashed then. 

“So crude,” she said. He quirked a brow. He hardly expected her to be a prude. 

She straightened up. “Susano was always one for strength. You must prove your might to them and then they will find you one worth respect,” she said.  

Zhen rolled his eyes. “I have Caelus to show me the ropes for now.” Hopefully, he won't kill me either. 

“Haha! I knew I recognized a familiar presence! Caelus was an old flame! Tried as we may, the sparks fizzled out. He was such a-”

He placed a hand over her beak, eyes darting around. 

“Too much?” She said, words muffled. 

“You have no filter,” he said harshly. 

She grinned broadly. “It doesn't matter. He knows how I am~” 

Artwork this lovely individual: https://x.com/KN2S29?t=UBRI8LUQGle34pVXcTr_oQ&s=09

[missypanther]

Dandadan Recap 2x02

I had serious doubts that Okarun's shift into wild mode was related to the idea of ​​censoring the suicide theme. But if they didn't censor it in the first season, it's incomprehensible why they would censor it in the second. Many said the acrobatic flashback was too subtle, but I didn't see it that way. Nevertheless, I appreciate that they were honest about this part, including the parents' scene, which is probably the darkest of all on this subject.

The turbo once again demonstrates how much she cares for the boys and that she wants to save them at all costs. Her excuses for why she keeps helping them are becoming less and less believable. xDD I love her a little more each time.

Jiji carrying the whole gang is the definition of A MAN. While Momo and Okarun try their best to kill themselves using both the tools at their disposal and their psychic powers. There's something that still grates on me about all this regarding Momo's powers, but I'm going to wait until the Cursed Eye arc to talk about it in more depth.

I expected Evil Eye's flashback to be much, MUCH worse. My impression of the manga versus the acrobatic one is that its story was sadder. But they didn't want to overdo it. I mean, I don't think they couldn't have made it sadder; they just didn't want to. I have to say, the drawing style in this part is incredible, and it often reminds me of old illustrations.

This part. This little bit broke my heart way more than the entire flashback. I'm not going to lie and say I didn't cry because I did. Jiji is such a good person, and poor Evil Eye… A baby with super strength.

Jiji's transformation is incredible. It was already awesome in the manga, but here it looks amazing. It's always caught my attention because of the four official transformations we have (I'm not sure how to classify Rin's), it's the strangest. He doesn't have a mask, he doesn't have the fluorescent lines, and he doesn't have a semi-transformation. I know that Curse Eye and Jiji's conditions are a little different from those of their companions Okarun, Aira, and Zuma, but it's still always caught my attention.

It's a topic I'm very interested in, but unfortunately, there are many gaps to fill in. Evil comes out rather shortly after the conclusion of his two arcs, and Jiji doesn't seem to explore that aspect of his powers much, but his appearance most likely has a lot to do with his power level.

Continuing along the same lines, his powers and combat have been quite impressive in this episode. I suppose that's precisely why there wasn't time for a more intense flashback like the one we got with the acrobatics. We already see several of her features, such as the curse, the soul ball, and the barrier, which are sort of borrowed powers from the souls in the house, a bit like the crab and the turbo granny. Also, and the most worrying thing about the Cursed Eye's powers is that they have no limits on their use, as is the case with Okarun…

My prediction for the next chapter is that the cursed house arc will be completely wrapped up. Dandadan doesn't tend to drag out fights any longer than necessary and likes to leave room for other topics.

[Recap 2x01]

[tinwe-the-local-assassin]

Finwian's One-shot Collection:

Of The Arafinwian Hair Dye

For @tyelkoandtimo-week day 1

"You know, Tyelko?”

Tyelko looked up from his coloring to look at Findo, eyebrows raised in question, and Findo continued now that he had his attention.

“You could have been my brother, and no one would have doubted it.”

Findo was smiling. His cousin, though, not…so much. Findo's smile dropped as soon as he saw Tyelko's eyes being filled with tears. He scowled, dropped his head and almost fell down in his hurry to get off the chair and run out of Findo’s room.

He sat there, as Atya would call it, shell-shocked, and could barely move until he heard his emmë call his name with anger.

Findo gulped.

_____

“Care to explain what happened, Findaráto Ingoldo Arafinwion? Why did I just see your cousin whom you had begged to have a playdate with for days running to the garden crying?”

Findo dropped his gaze. So Tyelko was actually crying. But why? What had he said to set him off? And crying? Tyelko?

Tyelko would have been ripping him a new one if he had said something offensive, but crying? Tyelko didn't cry. He made people cry.

“I don't know, Emmë. I didn't think what I said could make him sad.”

Ëarwen simply raised an eyebrow, but some of the tension left her body. And she nodded when her son was brave enough to look her in the eyes.

Findo pouted but obliged.

“I told him…I told him people wouldn't doubt it if we told people he's my actual brother rather than …calling him brother because we're friends and family. Because his hair looks like yours.”

Findo watched his mother sigh in frustration and massage the bridge of her nose like she always did when she didn't know what to do. And for some reason, she looked sad.

Even though Emmë didn't look angry anymore, Findo somehow felt worse than he did before.

“Emmë? Did I say something wrong? I…I thought it would make him happy. Doesn't…doesn't he like me enough to be my brother?”

And now Findo felt like crying too. He liked Tyelko, and he had always imagined having an older brother like him. Yes, he wasn't that older than Findo. Less than two years, Emmë told him once. But Moryo was just a few months younger than him, and Tyelko protected and took care of him like he did with Curvo and Findo himself did with Arto and Ango. He eyed his emmë’s round belly. And like he would do for the future baby.

But what if Tyelko didn't love him that much? The thought hurt more than he imagined.

Ëarwen cooed at him before pulling him into her arms. Findo went gladly.

“I'm sure Tyelko likes you a lot too. And you didn't say anything wrong, love. You just reminded him of some mean words other, bad elflings like to tell him.”

Findo frowned. Other people being mean to Tyelko? Findo didn't like that at all.

“What kind of things?”

This, his mother did not answer.

“It’s not my place to tell you, my love.”

She stepped back, before reaching to hold his face and raise it so she could look him in the eyes.

“Go on, sweet one. Go get your cousin to come back. And if he feels like it, he will tell you all himself. Don't push it, though. He's been sad enough.”

Findo nodded seriously, mouth set in a firm line. He bolted out of the hall and towards the gardens, already shouting Tyelko's name.

“Tyelko! Cousin! Please, come out! I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you…”

He looked around the garden, from the rose bushes to the great willow tree by the eastern walls, and found no sign. He was reminded of how good Tyelko was at hide and seek, and how only Finno was able to find him the last time they played and only after five hours. Findo would never be able to find him on his own.

He pouted and sighed.

“Please, Tyelko. I didn't mean it like that…I …I just wished to have someone like you as my older brother. I don't know what those elflings have told you, but none of it is true! I promise! Can you come out, please? I feel really bad about it.”

Seconds passed with no sign of any movement, even as he turned around so he could look at all the possible hiding places.

He was starting to feel discouraged when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, not having expected the sudden touch, and turned around to find a teary eyed Tyelko. He was pouting, his fluffy bangs covering most of his eyes so he could hide the redness of them.

Without wasting a moment, Findo reached out and pulled him in for a hug. Tyelko loved hugs, even if he tried denying it at times. They always made him feel better about what he was sad about.

At first, Tyelko didn't hug him back, sniffling and burying his face in the crook of Findo's neck. But eventually, he too, raised his arms and held him.

“Do you feel better now?”

He felt him nod, and Findo reluctantly broke the embrace. They needed to talk.

Tyelko still looked a little snotty, so Findo reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief. He held it in front of Tyelko's nose. Tyelko looked a little shocked at first. Probably had not expected Findo to carry handkerchiefs with himself like adults did. But he eventually caught on and blew his nose out.

Findo balled the dirty cloth and put it back in his pocket. He'd throw it into his laundry basket later.

“Can we talk about what happened? Why did you run out crying?”

Tyelko's eyes widened a little, and his pale cheeks reddened not so subtly. He looked down with a frown.

Findo bit his lip. He reached out to take a hold of Tyelko's hand and led him towards the shade of the nearest tree so they could sit.

Tyelko followed wordlessly and sat down next to him, pulling his knees to his chest.

None of them spoke for a while, enjoying the warmth of the late morning. Until Tyelko broke the silence.

“I heard…I heard some elflings in Haru’s court talking about me. About my hair…said it doesn’t look like my atya’s. Rihtarië said…said her mother had told her it’s because my atya isn’t really my atya. Said her emmë had told her that my emmë was infid…infidelity. I don’t know what that means, but it sounded mean. So I asked my haru Mahtan because I didn’t want my emme and atya to know. He got so angry that Haruni had to hold him so he could calm down. I still don’t know what it means, but it makes my haru angry and it means that my atya isn’t really my atya and it’s all because my hair looks like this! I…I hate it. I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!”

He yelled, pulling at his hair harshly. Findo frowned and took the hand gripping the pale strands gently, pulling it away until Tyelko relented and let go.

He still looked sad though, Findo realized, his heart clenching.

He didn’t quite know what he could do to make it better. Could talking with the other elflings help? He knew he had a way with people and could often convince them to listen to him. but, he wasn’t sure how it could help. They had already said those words. Tyelko was hurt, and knowing him, he wasn’t going to forget them even if he forgave them. So what?

I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!

Perhaps…

“What if you could change it?”

Findo heard a sniffle. He looked up and found his cousin looking at him. Tyelko’s eyes were wide, his brows drawing together as he frowned.

“But how?”

Findo hummed as he looked around. He hadn’t really thought about it, but how hard could it be? There must be some sort of paint or dye they could use. He looked down at his own brown shirt. It wasn’t always this color, surely. He had seen how people did it in Alqualonde, dyeing the silk threads in all the colors of the rainbow. But Tyelko didn’t want the colors of the rainbow. He wanted brown or black. What could they use?

Shadows of leaves moved upon the grass as Findo stared at the ground. He frowned and looked up. The light danced upon his face, and Findo smiled.

~~~

“Come on Findo! Tell me what happened. I promise I won’t be mad.”

Maitimo, despite his words, looked as livid as he could. And therefore Findo was convinced telling him anything was not a good idea. Which explained his silence as he stared at his own feet swinging back and forth.

Tyelko wasn’t crying anymore. He had wept and sobbed and sniffled on his brother’s shoulder until he had tired himself out and now slept in Maitimo’s arms. Findo wished to be held too, but he understood it was his own fault they had come to this, and so he had swallowed his tears until he didn’t feel like crying anymore.

“Findo? If you don’t talk I’m forced to ask your father to speak with you. Do you want him to find out?”

Findo gulped. No he did not. Atya always told Emmë everything, and he didn’t want them both to be mad at him on top of Nelyo and his parents. Possibly Haru and Haruni too.

“Tyelko wanted to change his hair. To be like Uncle Fëanáro or Kano and Moryo. So…I helped him?”

Finrod wasn’t quite sure where to look. At Nelyo’s tired face or his own sorry masterpiece that was Tyelko’s hair. The now pale orange strands glared at him. Findo looked away.

“You…what does that even mean? How did you help him?

And that he had an answer to.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Tyelko sounded skeptical. Findo brushed it off with a laugh as he crushed the boiled oak bark which was slowly forming a paste texture, getting ready to be put on Tyelko’s hair.

“Just trust me!”

Findo grimaced. Tyelko had indeed trusted him, and now they were in this mess.

“I made him a dye out of oak bark. I really thought it was going to work, Nelyo! I just didn’t use enough! If you just let me–”

“No!”

Findo looked down immediately. Right. He shouldn’t have said that.

“I'm very, very disappointed in you. I thought you knew compassion best out of all of our cousins, Findaráto. It is not Tyelko's fault he has white hair. And it is not a fault at all! He's perfect the way he is. You should have told him that instead of trying to fix his problem.”

Now, Findo really felt like crying too. It had not been what he had intended at all! He too thought his cousin was perfect the way he is. Yet, it had been what Tyelko had wished for. He wanted to change his hair color, and Findo had respected it and had tried to help him. Why was he being scolded now?

He sniffled quietly, swallowing down the sobs trying to escape his throat. He wasn't the one who's been wronged here. He shouldn't be crying.

Yet, he could not quite help his voice breaking when he explained things to Nelyo. He was forgiving. He would understand why Findo had done what he had done.

“I–I know! I love him–I love him the way he is too! But–but that's what he wanted! I– Findo just wanted to help!”

He whimpered, realizing he was starting to sound like a baby again. Even Arto didn't talk like that anymore.

He heard his cousin sigh, and he almost jumped when a warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. He looked up and through teary eyes, he found Maitimo looking at him with a gentle smile.

“I know, dear one. I know. But sometimes what people want is not really what they need. Say, if you had a stomach ache, and you wanted more candy, am I supposed to give you more candy or some medicine to relieve you from your pain?”

Findo sniffled and wiped his eyes, pouting. While he would have said candy in a heartbeat, he knew from experience what it did to elflings when one had too much too quickly. It was never worth the pain.

“...The medicine?”

He pulled a face when he said it, and Maitimo couldn't help but laugh.

“That is true. While Tyelko wanted you to help him fix something he didn't need fixing, it wasn't what he needed. He needed you to tell him that he should not think of what others said. And he needed you to tell him that he is beautiful the way he is, and that we all love him this way.”

Findo looked deep into the kind eyes of Maitimo and nodded.

Someone mewled. Findo looked up, watching as Tyelko’s eyebrows drew together. His eyelids fluttered, his white lashes sticking together from all the crying. He slowly opened his eyes. Maitimo held him tighter as his lips trembled, and shushed him before he could start crying again.

“Hush now! You have cried enough. There is no need for more tears.”

Tyelko sniffled but bit his lips to stop himself from crying. He grasped his brother's collar to pull himself up in his lap. Findo grimaced, seeing his peach colored hair falling and framing his face again.

“But…my hair–”

“You know what Atya would say. Don't do something if you are going to cry about it later. It is your mistake, and you should own it and try to redeem it. You have hurt yourself this time, Tyelko. Do you know how you should apologize to yourself?”

Tyelko’s frown deepened. He shook his head. Findo didn't blame him. He was just as confused. How did one apologize to oneself?

Maitimo, though, appeared a little smug.

“No worries, then. I will show you how.”

~~~

“What are we doing here, Timo?”

Tyelko asked, holding onto Nelyo's hand tightly as they walked towards somewhere in the forest behind Uncle Fëanáro's estate. Findo had never been here before, and he could understand why he rarely found his half-cousins in the public parks of Tirion. Who would go there, when they could play in such a magical place?

Maitimo stopped, and Findo barely held himself to not collide with his back. He took a step back and rounded him, listening to the trees sing their songs. He did not understand what they wished to share, but he found their voices melodical nonetheless.

“Can you call upon Ninquë?”

Findo frowned. Who was that?

Tyelko looked confused too, but for completely different reasons.

“Why do you need her?”

Did Tyelko knew who Ninquë was?

“Just do as I say. You will know soon enough.”

Tyelko still looked confused. He sighed, appearing defeated. He took a few steps away from them, breathed in, before letting out a loud caw.

Findo jumped despite himself, not having expected it at all. He stood silent for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to speak, a flash of white passed by him, flew over their heads before finally landing on Tyelko's outstretched arm.

Tyelko smiled and gently scratched the white crow’s head, greeting it like an old friend. The crow, too, cawed and then bowed in greeting.

“Well, she is here. What did you want to say?”

Tyelko finally tore his eye away from his friend to address his brother. Findo took a moment to remember their reason for being there at all.

He looked at Maitimo, and found him watching Tyelko with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

“Tyelko, do you think Ninquë isn't her parents' chick because she does not share their coloring?”

Tyelko gasped, offended. He threw a worried glance at Ninquë. She didn't seem to have understood Nelyo's words.

“Of course not! Why would you say that, Timo?! It's so rude!”

Findo…Findo understood.

“Well, if you don't, why do you think you're not Atya's son like us when you clearly are?”

Tyelko's jaw was hanging open and Findo…

he was impressed. Maitimo knew his little brother so well that he also knew the only to get through his stubbornness sometimes was just to let him find the answers in his own tongue.

“Weren't you the one who convinced the rest of the murder to accept Ninquë between them? I remember you saying you told the leader how Ninquë was no different from them just because she was white. You told them to love her just the way she is because Eru had meant it for her to look like this. So why can't Eru have meant for you to look like this too? Why can't you accept that you are as much of a son of Fëanáro as the rest of us, even if you look different?”

Tyelko…he was crying again. But this time, silently. As if his mind had yet to process the information through his shock.

Findo…well, he was crying too. But just because he thought this moment was too beautiful, and it deserved some tears.

It was beautiful to think Eru had used Findo to convince Tyelko to love himself. It was beautiful that this crow who, much like Tyelko had helped her once, was the one helping him understand how perfect he was.

It was just, beautiful. Eru was beautiful.

Ninquë cawed, this time more quietly. Tyelko laughed, through his tears. Nelyo chuckled, and Findo smiled.

It was a beautiful day.

[steelxwounds]

his question landed softer than she expected — not sharp, not invasive, just there, steady like the way he held eye contact and didn’t flinch. and it made something inside her ache a little. had she been feeling some other way about it lately? delaney didn’t answer right away. didn’t rush to fill the quiet between them with half-truths or rehearsed lines. instead, she let her fingers skate over the rim of her glass, her gaze drifting back to the grain in the table like maybe it could explain something she hadn’t been able to. “i don’t know if it’s different,” she said finally, the words slow and honest. “just... louder.” she paused. let that truth settle. “like the parts of it that used to feel noble don’t land the same. it’s still worth it. i know that. i do. but sometimes it feels like the job’s getting better at taking pieces without asking first.” her jaw tensed for a second before she unclenched it again — exhaling the tension like smoke. he reminded her of the kind of people she used to trust without second-guessing. before the long nights and moral gray zones blurred everything too deep to see straight. not naive. not saviors. just people who got it. when he said she had the spirit for it, something flickered behind her eyes. not doubt. just distance. “some days i don’t know if it’s spirit or stubbornness,” she said, lips tilting into something that could almost pass for a smile. “might just be too pissed off to quit.” his agreement — quiet and worn — felt heavier than any monologue. yeah, i know that feeling pretty well. she didn’t need more than that. didn’t want it, even. that was the thing about their kind — they didn’t spill until it bled. but they recognized the weight. they carried it in their eyes, their spines, their silences. “you ever think we all just agreed to live with a kind of grief we’re never gonna shake?” she asked, not expecting an answer this time either. she watched him call for another drink, and her own glass was half-forgotten between her hands — lukewarm now, condensation soaking into the worn wood beneath it. she didn’t care. the moment was quieter than the jukebox and somehow louder than the whole bar. “no handbook. no warning label. just trial by fire and whatever the hell’s left of us afterward.” she clinked her glass against his again, gentler this time — not a toast, but a pact. “to the ones we saved,” she repeated, voice rough at the edges, “and the ones who keep us up at night.” then, softer — almost an afterthought, but not really: “thanks for not trying to fix it.” her eyes met his, steady and unguarded now. “just… for being here.”

he  couldn't  help  but  wonder  if  he'd  feel  like  his  calling  was  different  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  he  practically  raised  his  siblings.  he'd  been  helping  people  his  entire  life,  he  didn't  know  anything  other  than  that.  leon  hadn't  ever  been  a  selfish  person,  he  was  always  focused  on  how  he  could  take  care  of  the  people  around  him.  it  wasn't  too  far  -  fetched  to  think  the  outcome  would've  been  difficult  if  he  hadn't  assumed  the  role  of  caregiver  for  over  half  of  his  life.  ❝  have  you  been  feeling  some  other  way  about  it  lately  ?  ❞  he  questioned,  arching  a  brow.  he  wasn't  a  therapist,  but  he  had  been  a  listening  ear  for  his  siblings  all  his  life,  he  could  extend  the  same  courtesy  to  her.  clearly,  she  was  going  through  some  sort  of  emotional  distress.  he  wouldn't  be  offended  if  she'd  declined  to  take  him  up  on  his  offer  to  listen  to  her  vent.  he  knew  other  people  didn't  want  to  talk  about  their  issues  in  detail,  and  leon  was  certainly  speaking  from  experience.  he  always  opted  for  suffering  in  silence.  ❝  if  it  told  you,  i'm  pretty  sure  we'd  been  in  even  more  desperate  need  of  medical  professionals,  ❞  leon  reasoned,  shrugging.  ❝  the  work  we  do  .  .  .  it's  far  different  than  the  glitz  and  glamour  of  hollywood.  it  takes  a  tough  spirit  to  endure  it.  i�� think  you've  got  that  spirit.  ❞  the  question  had  him  swallowing  thickly,  gaze  averting  to  his  now  nearly  empty  glass.  leon  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  exhaling  through  his  nose.  ❝  yeah,  i  know  that  feeling  pretty  well.  ❞  it  was  the  most  honest  and  vulnerable  he'd  been  with  anyone  in  ages.  it  made  him  feel  exposed,  he  didn't  care  for  that  at  all.  ❝  our  mind's  are  known  for  being  our  own  worst  enemy.  ❞  he  quickly  added  on.  he  gave  a  solemn  nod,  acknowledging  the  pain  of  losing  a  patient.  it  never  got  any  easier,  and  he  was  well  aware  of  that.  ❝  no,  pride  definitely  doesn't  do  that,  ❞  he  agreed.  ❝  that  feeling  …  it  never  goes  away.  it's  part  of  the  job.  ❞  only  another  person  in  their  field  would  truly  understand  the  feelings  they  were  describing.  he  didn't  need  to  ask  about  the  day  she  had,  he  already  knew.  he  could  just  try  to  provide  some  bit  of  comfort.  ❝  i  don't  think  any  handbook  could've  ever  prepared  either  of  us  for  what  this  career  is  really  like.  ❞  leon  nodded,  signaling  the  bartender  over  for  another  drink.  ❝  i'll  drink  to  that.  ❞

[ptieuca]

My mom said some things to me about being the slayer. That it's fruitless. No fruit for Buffy. She's wrong.

[deepspaceclawstation]

This is just me being kinda obnoxious but being good at a certain subject at uni sucks because you then end up having to become an unofficial (and hence unpaid) TA for the rest of your class, or else you earn the reputation of being a stuck up bitch. Uni doesn't reward talent or hard work, it just means you get more leaches attached to you

[c4ptainrogers]

Steve stands there, watching Bucky walk away, feeling a pang of uncertainty settle in his chest. Did he push too hard, or was he seeing something that wasn't really there? Doubt gnaws at him, making him question if he had misread every look, every touch, every shared moment between them. He wonders if he's only managed to make Bucky feel trapped, and the thought twists his heart, leaving him unsure of what to do next. Steve had always loved Bucky for the person he was, the fierce and loyal friend who stood by his side no matter what. Even now, after everything that had changed, Steve admired the strength and resilience Bucky had shown in rebuilding his life from the shattered pieces of his past. To Steve, Bucky was more than his history; he was a testament to survival, and that made him all the more deserving of love. Steve could sense doubt in Bucky's eyes, a shadow between them. Although those weren't the exact words he wanted to hear, he knew he had no choice but to respect Bucky's boundaries. He also gave him the space he needed. As much as it pained him, Steve forced a chuckle, trying to match Bucky's forced levity. "Yeah, can't have Alpine turning me into a late-night snack," he replied, attempting to mask the heaviness in his heart. Despite the uncertainty that loomed over them, he knew he had to trust in the bond they shared and hope that, with time, they'd find their way back to each other.

Just then, a waitress approached them with a warm smile, gesturing towards an empty booth in the corner. "Care for a seat, gentlemen?" she asked, her voice cutting through the tension. Steve nodded, grateful for the distraction, and followed her. He hoped that maybe, amidst all the clatter of the diner and the comfort of familiarity, they could bridge the gap between them. As she led them to the booth, doubt ran through Steve's mind like a relentless tide. He wondered if he had been too forward with kissing Bucky. He wondered if his actions crossed a line, pushing Bucky further away instead of bringing them closer Sitting in the booth, Steve couldn't help but glance at Bucky, a weak smile played on his lips as he grabbed the menu. He hoped it would shield his turbulent thoughts, but his mind raced relentlessly, questioning every decision he'd made As he studied the list of dishes, Steve tried to calm the storm within him, reminding himself that patience and understanding were his only allies now. Steve couldn't ignore the weight of recent events pressing down on them. It had only been a week since Tony's funeral, a somber reminder of the sacrifices they'd all made. Just a day had passed since they returned the stones, a task laden with responsibility and bittersweet closure. Coming back to Bucky after such a tumultuous time, Steve knew that healing wouldn't happen overnight, but he was eager to be there for Bucky as he navigated this new chapter in their lives.

Their kiss was everything Steve imagined—electric, tender, and filled with unspoken promises. Yet, he couldn't shake the hesitation he sensed from Bucky, a fleeting moment that now gnawed at his conscience. Steve couldn't help but wonder if he'd misread the situation. He worried that his impulsive act might have been a misstep in their delicate bond. Steve focused on the menu, trying to steady himself, but the words blurred as his thoughts continued to swirl. He cleared his throat, hoping to dispel some of his anxiety, just as the waitress returned with a pen poised over her notepad "What can I get you to drink?" she asked, her voice gentle and unobtrusive. Steve looked up, forcing a smile onto his face as he glanced up at her. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she gasped softly, clearly taken aback by the sight of him. "Oh my gosh, you're... you're Captain America!" she stammered, her excitement barely contained. Steve chuckled awkwardly, nodding in acknowledgment, as he felt the atmosphere shift around them, drawing attention from nearby tables. "Just Steve today," he told her with a warm smile, hoping to ease her nerves. "We'll both have milkshakes, please." The waitress blushed deeply, her excitement still evident as she scribbled down their order. Steve watched her retreat to the kitchen, feeling the curious gazes from the surrounding tables, but he turned his focus back to Bucky, determined to make this moment about them.

Steve went back to hiding in his menu, the words blurring as his thoughts consumed him once more. Kissing Bucky had been everything he'd hoped for, yet now he couldn't shake the nagging doubt that he might have been a terrible kisser. The fear that he'd misstepped lingered, tainting the sweetness of the moment, and he wished he could read Bucky's mind to find reassurance."Hey, Bucky," Steve began, his voice barely above a whisper. "About earlier... was it okay for you?" But before Steve could get a response, the waitress returned with a tray full of milkshake samples, her eyes twinkling as she placed them on the table. She leaned in slightly, giving Steve a playful wink as she whispered, "These are on the house, just for you, Captain." Her flirty demeanor was hard to miss, and Steve couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. "It's not every day we get a hero in here," she added with a grin, before turning her attention to Bucky and giving him a friendly nod. "Thank you, that's very kind," Steve replied, though a hint of discomfort lingered in his tone. He took Bucky's menu, making it a point to keep the focus on their meal. "We'll have two cheeseburger combos, please," he added. His polite smile masked the unease that had settled in. The waitress nodded, her enthusiasm undiminished, and gave Steve another playful wink before assuring them, "Your order will be out shortly." She turned to head back to the kitchen, leaving Steve and Bucky to themselves once more.

Steve tried to shake off the lingering awkwardness, focusing on Bucky as he asked, "So, what do you think of this place so far?" Steve fiddled with his napkin, wishing he could disappear into the booth. He hated how easily he was thrown off balance by a simple wink and the attention it brought. It reminded him of the old days, before the serum, when he was used to blending into the background rather than being the center of attention. He remembered how he used to navigate through life, hoping not to be noticed, and how the serum changed that overnight. It was strange to be admired now, when all he'd ever wanted was to be seen as just another guy. Yet, deep down, he knew he'd never be able to shake off the insecurities of his pre-serum days, no matter how much attention he receives now. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia mixed in with a touch of longing for the days when he was just Steve Rogers, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn. Despite all that he'd achieved, there was a part of him that still saw himself as the underdog, constantly striving to prove his worth. This internal conflict left him grappling with his dual identity—caught between the man he once was and the symbol he had become. He couldn't help but wonder if Bucky sensed his discomfort. With a sheepish grin, Steve asked, "So, any plans for after this?" Steve's awkwardness was palpable, his attempt at casual conversation revealing his vulnerability.

there are things in life that were meant to be- and some things that were not. when Bucky came to, not quite returning to the man he used to be, but not quite the Soldier anymore, the reality of this fact hit him fast and hard. this world was not meant for Bucky Barnes. he’d been alive for so long, but it felt like eons since he truly lived. with memories pouring in from every crevice, every hidden passage in his mind, he’d become overwhelmed with it all, unable to cling to one memory at a time. instead, they hit him like a freight train- taking the breath from his lungs. while his memory returned to him, the feelings with each one was a much slower process. no one tells you how it’s going to be, after all. no one really knows what it’s like to have your memories stolen from you, and then abruptly returned. there was no instructions attached to this. Bucky had to learn it all on his own.

and it fucking hurt.

when he was on the run, he was constantly swarmed with those memories and eventually, the emotion that came with each one. sometimes he’d wake up sobbing his eyes out, other times he’d catch himself staring blankly at the wall across from him, screaming internally. it was so fucking much to deal with, Bucky begged for it to stop- prayed to a god he doesn’t believe in to just please, make it fucking stop. if this was what it felt like to be a person again, he didn’t fucking want it. everything was so fucking raw, and he felt everything. it was like a tornado had swept through his mind and rattled everything around inside, moving pieces here and there, placed almost strategically, as if to remind him that his mind wasn’t his own.

it must have been intentional. Hydra must have done this- made sure that if Bucky ever recovered his memories, that it would fucking hurt. it made him increasingly angry, the hatred for them, for what they did to him, became almost as overwhelming as the memories that plagued his mind. he’d set on a path then- to get them back for every horrible thing they’d ever done to him. he would make them pay. he wouldn’t stop until Hydra was nothing more than the ghost story they made him out to be.

and it was during this exploration, during this time hunting down Hydra, that he realized something fruitful- he was never going to be Bucky Barnes again. Bucky Barnes, from what he’d learned based on what was said about him, and based on the memories residing inside his head, was a good man. he only did what he did during the war, because he had to; he didn’t enjoy it. every death that occurred because of him weighed heavy on that man’s conscious. he had nightmares of what he’d done every single night, regret pooling in his belly as he stared at whatever ceiling hung above him that night. he couldn’t sleep, knowing what he did, though he tried. he never wanted to be a soldier, this Bucky knows- feels it deep within his soul. Bucky wasn’t necessarily afraid of dying; he believed in the good fight, and wanted to do whatever he could to help, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kill people, who were just doing the same thing he was doing. he wanted to do the right thing and he believed that following Steve into that good fight, then that’s exactly what he’d be doing.

when Bucky went on the run and began hunting down Hydra, he knew that version of Bucky was never coming back. he was never going to be that good man ever again. even if he told himself that what he was doing was important, that Hydra deserved to suffer for what they did, there was no mistaking the malice that thrummed under his fingernails whenever he knocked someone unconscious or killed them without thinking twice about it. he was not regretful in his choices in the beginning- he aimed to kill, even. but as time went on, and he knew that Steve was following him, he began to feel a weariness in his bones, and the exhaustion began to slow him down. he didn’t want to fight forever. he wanted to rest.

god, he just wanted to rest.

so maybe that’s why he realizes it too late.

realizes too late that he’s not the Bucky Barnes that Steve is in love with- that he was never going to be him again. after everything he’d done, after everything he’d been put through, that version of Bucky Barnes was long since gone. he had a good run- fought the good fight, did everything he could in the name of doing the right thing, but that Bucky died when he gave Hydra what they wanted. he died the moment he gave up. he was never coming back.

and Bucky realizes too late that the man Steve is kissing, is not the person he wants him to be.

he kisses him back like a ravenous animal, like his head had been held under the water for so long and this was his first gasp of fresh air. he was a starving animal, fingers wrapping around the fabric of Steve’s shirt and even threatened to bring him closer, just to feel every inch of his skin, like what he had was simply not enough. like maybe they could become one, breathing the same breath as one another. each breath he took would be Steve’s and vice versa. they were the same, they were everything, they were-

and then reality hits him, as if being thrown into an ice cold lake. his eyes flash open, his breath mingling with Steve’s as he tries to catch his breath, the horror of what just happened settling deep within his bones. he hears Steve speaking, but he doesn’t really hear him- can’t formulate the confession to be anything more than a mistake.

this is wrong, he screams at himself. he wants to grab himself by the shoulders and shake himself, remind him who he is. because he is not the man Steve is in love with. he was never going to be that man again. Steve didn’t love him- he loved a ghost.

Bucky exhales slowly, eyes following Steve’s for a moment. then, he feels himself let go, his fingers gently brushing away the wrinkles he’d just made. “Steve,” he whispers, his voice breaking. he clears his throat, willing the tears to go away.

he can’t do this to Steve- good, righteous, innocent, loving Steve. he just can’t. it isn’t fair.

so, instead of telling him what he wants to hear, and maybe something he doesn’t, Bucky just offers a sad smile and pushes himself off the wall, heading towards the restaurant. “c’mon, punk. if we waste anymore time, Alpine’s going to eat you- and something tells me you’re not going to like that.” then, he’s giving Steve a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

if there was one thing in this world Bucky wanted more than anything, it was Steve. unfortunately, Bucky wasn’t the one thing in the world Steve wanted more than anything. maybe he used to be, but the man that he is now, the man that he has become, was never going to be that.