#writing this took way longer than expected

[witchywithwhiskey]

only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 

But he didn’t. 

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[theywantedplayer]

Master list

PromptList

AN-this is longer than what I usually do I hope yall fuck with it since I haven't been writing lots bc I got exams in 2 weeks fm

You started noticing Nico acting differently—not just on the ice but also when it was just the two of you at home. He always had a nurturing attitude, which his teammates liked to tease him about by calling him "Mother Nico." He was always a caring and intuitive guy, picking up around the apartment even though you knew he had a stressful schedule during the NHL season.

He handled it all well, balancing everything quite skillfully. You’d often hear stories from your friends who were dating other players on the team about how their boyfriends always prioritized hockey, but Nico wasn’t like that.

Then, around the winter months, things started to change. He seemed slower, quieter, and less talkative like a dark cloud constantly hung over him. The Devils weren’t performing as well in the standings as usual, and Nico took it personally as the captain. He acted like the team’s struggles were entirely his fault, carrying the weight of it on his shoulders.

Nico had always been your rock. He let you talk to him about anything that was bothering you, offering a listening ear and unwavering support. But as the winter months set in, you started to realize that the dynamic only seemed to go one way. You could sense something was troubling him, but he never opened up about it.

Little things began to slip. He forgot whose turn it was to make dinner, skipped doing the laundry, or left the dishes undone—things he’d always been on top of. At first, you didn’t mind picking up the extra load, understanding how stressful the season must have been for him. But as October came, you decided it was time to bring it up. You never expected his reaction.

"I’ve noticed you’ve been off, and I’m worried about you," you finally said, folding laundry on the dining room table. Your voice was calm but firm, wanting to make your concern seen.

"What makes you say that?" he replied, his gaze fixed on the TV.

Your eyes flickered between him and the screen. He was watching SportsCenter, listening to reporters make critical and unsupportive remarks about the Devils' performance. It was clear their words had struck a nerve

“Well, you haven’t been picking up around the house lately, and you’ve just been quieter. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” you said as you folded his t-shirts.

Truthfully, you didn’t mind picking up more around the house. You’d always told Nico he didn’t need to do as much as he did, but he always insisted. Still, as you tried to talk to him, it felt like walking on landmines. He was so quiet, and you were afraid he might explode at any moment.

“Seriously?” he said coldly, finally turning his head toward you.

“You know I don’t have a problem with you not doing housework. You just haven’t been yourself lately,” you said, trying to keep your tone gentle. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“If you don’t have a fucking problem with it, then why are you bringing it up?” he snapped, his tone ice-cold.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You could feel where this conversation was headed. Setting down the hoodie you’d been folding, you rested your hands on the table and turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, and that familiar resting bitch face of his—the one that intimidated people who didn’t know him—made you hesitate for just a moment. You knew it wasn’t truly who Nico was, but even now, it unsettled you just a little. Seeing someone who was always the sweetest and more caring one in the room suddenly has the face of one who at first glance didn't seem like it was a shock, but you always knew your boyfriend and knew that wasn't true.

“Nico, I’m not trying to start anything,” you said softly. “I just know something’s wrong, and you won’t even fucking talk to me about it.” you regretted the swear as soon as it left your mouth knowing it seemed like a push to him.

“Because I don’t need to,” he stated flatly.

You sighed again, frustration and worry bubbling inside you. Nico was the guy who always told everyone else they could talk to him, but he never talked to anyone about his stuff even rarely at times with you.

“Well, I think you do,” you said, your voice firmer this time as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t trying to start a fight, but you couldn’t let this slide. “I think talking about it would really help. You’ve been so quick to anger lately, so quiet, and I’m worried about you. You can talk to me. Why do you feel like you can’t?”

You noticed the slight clench of his jaw before he responded. “I have a lot of shit going on. I’m sorry if I’m not picking up around the house anymore. Just leave it alone,” he said, his tone laced with annoyance. “Just leave me alone.”

With that, he turned his body and full attention back to the TV. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he turned up the volume at the same time. Whether it was intentional or not, it sent a clear message: he wasn’t continuing this conversation. And as much as you knew it needed to happen, you didn’t have the energy to force it either.

About a month later, near the end of November, you could tell things had only gotten worse. The Devils were in the middle of a six-game losing streak, and it was eating at Nico. The frustration came to a head after a particularly brutal loss—shut out by Vegas, 5–0.

The walk back to the car was painfully silent. The only words Nico said as he handed you the keys were, “You drive.”

You nodded wordlessly, slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The drive home, which should’ve been 20 minutes, stretched to nearly 45 because of post-game traffic. Normally, after a tough game like this, Nico would vent to you—sharing ideas for new plays or strategies to motivate the team. But tonight, he sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the sea of brake lights in front of you.

At every red light, you glanced over at him, silently checking in. He didn’t say a word, but you could see the storm brewing in his mind. This wasn’t just a bad game or a bad week; it was months of mounting pressure. He wasn’t himself anymore, and you knew he was close to breaking.

When you finally pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building, you turned off the car and opened your door. “Come on, Nic, let’s just go to bed,” you said gently, stepping out.

You expected to hear the passenger door open, but instead, there was silence. Turning back, you saw him still sitting there, unmoving. His hand hadn’t even reached for the door handle. It was like he hadn’t even heard you.

You walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, crouching down slightly to meet his eye line. “Nico,” you said softly, your voice laced with concern. “Let’s go inside.”

You could see it—the weight of everything he’d been bottling up for months. The pressure, the expectations, the emotions he refused to show. He was on the verge of breaking, and you just wanted to help him before he shattered completely.

He was too prideful.

But still, you were met with silence. You reached out and softly grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. You tried to pull him out of the car, but he pulled his hand back, holding yours tightly in both of his. He stared down at your hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. You sat there, unsure of what to say, just trying to comfort him in the smallest way possible. In two years of dating, you’d only ever seen Nico shut down like this once before—after the Devils' playoff run in 2023.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “What the fuck is going on?”

You couldn’t tell if he was talking to you, to himself, or to no one at all. His voice wavered, trying to hide the emotion threatening to break through. It pained you—he’d seen you cry countless times, about everything from stress to happiness, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let you see him like this.

“I know it’s tough,” you said softly, squeezing his hand again.

“It’s more than just fucking tough,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “We’ve been playing like shit, and there’s nothing I can do. The reporters are tearing us apart, and I have no idea how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know what the fuck to do!”

His voice cracked, but he kept going, the dam finally breaking.

“In the locker room, on the ice—everyone looks at me like I have all the answers. Like I’m supposed to solve all our fucking problems. But I don’t. What kind of captain can’t even fix his team?”

“It’s not your job to fix your team,” you said plainly, your voice steady.

For the first time since the game, he looked up at you, and your heart broke at the sight. His big brown eyes glistened, tears pooling just at the edge, threatening to spill over.

“I’m the captain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking. “It is my job. It’s my responsibility to keep the team together, to make sure we don’t fall into shit like this.” His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and he shook his head, as if rejecting your words outright.

“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” you said gently. “You’ve been doing that for years.”

“Pressure?” he scoffed bitterly. “If it’s not me putting it on, it’s everyone else.”

Your expression softened, and you brought your other hand up to run your fingers through his damp hair. “If you’re the one putting it on yourself, then you can also take it off,” you said quietly. “I’m right here, Nico. I’ve been telling you that since the day we met. If you’re feeling anything—everything—you can talk to me.”

He shook his head again, looking up at you with so much guilt it made your chest ache. “I can’t do that to you. You’ve got enough going on with school and exams. I can’t be one more thing.”

“That’s bullshit,” you said, sighing. “I love you. Nothing is more important to me than you. Keeping all this bottled up is only making it worse, Nico. You need to let it out. Talk to me.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes softened as you wiped away a single tear that slipped down his cheek.

“But I’m the captain. People are supposed to look up to me and lean on me. It’s my job to take care of everyone else,” he said weakly.

“Yeah, and it’s my job to take care of you,” you said firmly. “I knew what I was signing up for when we got together. Dating a pro athlete comes with challenges that most people don’t face, and I knew it’d be hard sometimes. But Nico, you make it so easy to love you. The only thing that makes this hard is that you don’t talk to me when you’re struggling. I want to be your rock, too. I want you to come to me, vent for hours if you need to, cry if you need to. I just want to help you.”

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, and his voice cracked as he said, “I feel like I have to hold it together all the time. Half the time, I’m not. If we’re losing, I feel like it’s my fault. If I can’t lead us to a win, what kind of captain does that make me?”

“You’re playing fucking hockey, Nico,” you said bluntly. “You’ve been doing this your whole life. You know what you’re doing, and you know what your team needs. But it’s not your job to fix everything. They’re grown men with their own shit going on. The best thing you can do is be there for them, support them. But you can’t carry the whole team on your back.”

A bitter laugh left his lips. “Everyone thinks we’re a shit team right now. We’re getting blown out almost every game.”

You smiled softly, glad to see the tension beginning to leave his shoulders as he let everything out. “Don’t you think Quinn felt like that, too?” you asked.

His brows furrowed in surprise at the mention of his friend's brother.

“He’s captain of the Canucks. They were a mess for years but look at them now. They’ve turned it around. People respect them because they fought through it. You will, too. You’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this. Why don't you try and talk to him about this, Quinn's a really helpful guy he's helping me so much, growing up he was the first person I'd go to"

Nico knew your history with the Hughes you guys grew up together and spent nights at the lake house together, even though Nico didn't know Quinn as well as he knew his energetic little brother, Jack,  he could tell from the few times that they've met that he was a great guy to go to for advice.  He honestly really liked Quinn,  one time during the summer during the off-season the Hughes family invited you and Nico to spend a couple weeks at the lake house with the original group. Being Cole, Trevor the Hughes brothers, and some other buddies from Michigan, Nico was a little nervous about going since he only really knew Jack, Luke and You but Quinn and Nico honestly gravitated towards each other and got along quite well, he introduced Nico to the rest of the group and everyone hit it off from there on.

and during one of those nights at the lake house he and the eldest brother were sitting out by the fire when everyone was inside they ended up having generally deep talk and confided in each other about being captains of a team at a very young age. At the time Nico barely knew Quinn this was really the first time he was actually able to sit down and fully get to know the young defenseman but still he talked to him knowing they shared the same worries and since then they've always kept in contact.

Everyone always loved it when New Jersey played Vancouver because they called it the "Hughe's Bowl" since the three brothers were playing on the same ice against each other for the first time in a long time. Nico always looked forward to that since usually after those games if Vancouver wasn't heading back that night Nico and the three brothers would go out and always get a beer together. 

 Nico could slightly feel his face heat up with embarrassment. not about opening up but about not doing it sooner.  he loved you and he knew you always wanted the best for him so he just felt stupid for not realizing that sooner and trusting someone with his problems but it wasn't just somebody it was you 

He was quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a deep laugh. You blinked in surprise at the sudden shift, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m an idiot,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been sitting on this for months, and after less than ten minutes of talking to you, I already feel better. No wonder you were pushing me to open up.”

You laughed with him, relief washing over you as he climbed out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug. He buried his face in your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your skin, holding you close.

You hugged him just as tightly, feeling the warmth radiating from his body after the game. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Nico. And I need you to know you can always talk to me about anything.”

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own still glistening but now softer. He just saw you prove that too. him but he really needed to hear you say it. He kissed you gently, then rested his chin on your head, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m fucking tired.”

[atzjieun]

undercover

summary | that time yunho committed identity fraud

circa | september 2017

contains | 2.7k words, fluff, comedy, brief mention of taking medicine

notes | taking a break from all the jiwoo drama lmao. i was gonna wait a bit longer to post this but i received some very great news for something irl so i'm posting it now as a treat 😁

taglist | @teezingsiyeon @moonkyeom @itzynabi

Jieun shifted her weight from foot to foot, anxiously watching the clock above as the hands moved. The pit in her stomach only grew larger with every second that ticked by, dreading the moment the clock struck four.

Maybe she should’ve just called her brother. There was no world in which Jihoon wouldn’t have picked up and dropped everything the moment she said she needed him. 

But that was exactly the issue. She knew how busy he was, and the idea of dragging her brother away from school or work to attend something as insignificant as her parent-teacher meetings would’ve only made her feel worse. She couldn’t keep relying on him for everything, though she knew her teacher wouldn’t be very happy about yet another missed meeting, and Jieun was running out of excuses.

The sound of the classroom door sliding open made her jump. Jieun stood up straight, shoulders tense as her teacher stepped out of the classroom with a notebook in hand.

“Ah, yes, Jieun,” she said, catching sight of the girl. She watched as her teacher’s eyebrows furrowed, looking around the hallway. “You said that your older brother was coming, didn’t you?” 

Jieun stared at her blankly, though quickly broke out of her trance and gave a brief nod. 

“My brother…” she trailed, glancing over her shoulder. “He’s coming. He’s just- uh, he’s running a bit late.”

Her teacher glanced up at the clock, a small sigh escaping him as she flipped through her notebook, writing something down. 

“Do you have a rough idea of when he’ll be arriving?” she asked, a slight sharpness in her tone. “I have many other appointments today.” 

Jieun chewed on her lower lip, eyes moving to the ground. She remained quiet for a short period of time, searching through her mind for any possible excuse she could use to explain her brother’s absence. Finding nothing, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, about to confess when a voice behind her sounded first.

“Sorry I’m late! Traffic was heavier than expected.” 

Her head snapped up, looking over her shoulder to the source of the voice. Jieun’s eyes widened as she spotted Yunho’s tall figure making his way down the hall. The boy was fully dressed in a suit, his hair neatly combed and styled, walking in long strides before eventually stopping beside her. 

Yunho smiled at her teacher as he extended his hand. “You must be Ms. Yoon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

For the first time ever, Jieun saw a smile spread across her teacher’s face as she accepted Yunho’s handshake, bowing forward slightly. 

“And you must be Jieun’s older brother,” she greeted. “The pleasure is all mine. Shall we start the meeting?” 

As though he were used to the routine, Yunho immediately followed her teacher into the classroom, Jieun trailing behind after processing what had just happened. She took a seat beside Yunho at the teacher’s desk in silence. While her teacher rummaged through some of her cabinets, Jieun took the opportunity to lean over and whisper into Yunho’s ear, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’m here for your parent-teacher meeting.”

The two sat up straight as her teacher opened what was presumably Jieun’s file. Her eyes scanned over the document for a couple seconds before she looked up, turning toward Yunho.

“It’s clear that Jieun is a very strong student. She excels on all of her exams and big projects, typically exceeding expectations and gaining full marks.” 

Jieun’s eyes widened at the sudden praise, heat rising to her cheeks as Yunho glanced over at her with a fond smile, gently nudging the girl with his elbow. Before either of them could say anything, however, her teacher spoke up again. 

“However, Jieun rarely completes her daily homework checks and often turns in her smaller assignments late,” her teacher said. Jieun could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of her. “These small assignments may not be worth as much as exams, but they add up over time. Furthermore, it indicates a lack of consistency in her work habits that may negatively impact her in the future.” 

She could feel the two sets of eyes on her, though Jieun’s gaze remained on her lap as she played with her thumbs. 

“I understand that you are training to be an idol?” She didn’t verbally respond, simply giving a small nod while continuing to avoid her teacher’s gaze. “The information you learn may not pertain to your chosen career path, but the skills and work habits you gain from consistently doing your homework can be transferred into any field, even if it’s not academic. These assignments teach you about discipline and consistent effort. I hope to see improvements in this area in the future, Jieun.”

Jieun continued to stay quiet, glancing up at her teacher for a moment before looking back down and nodding. 

“Is Jieun currently living with you?” her teacher asked, turning her attention to Yunho. The boy nodded seriously. 

“Yes, she is currently living with me.” 

Her teacher quickly wrote something down in her notebook. “It’s really better if Jieun herself takes initiative in her school work, but if there’s any instance where she needs a bit of reminding-” 

“I’ll be sure to be there when she needs me,” Yunho finished, a smile on his face as he gave a reassuring nod. 

Satisfied, her teacher noted one more thing down before placing her pen on the desk, clasping her hands together as she turned her attention back toward Jieun. 

“Jieun, would it be alright if your brother and I talk privately for a little bit?”

The girl nodded as she stood up. She gave a small bow to her teacher, still avoiding eye contact before turning around and walking toward the exit of the classroom. 

Closing the door behind her, Jieun leaned back against the wall and let out a huge exhale. She looked over her shoulder, peering through the window of the classroom to see Yunho and her teacher in the middle of conversation. The boy seemed comfortable, too comfortable considering he was quite literally committing a crime. 

Turning away, Jieun pulled out her phone to check if she’d received any messages. There were a couple from her group chat with the other trainees, one from her mom, though the most recent message came from none other than her actual brother.

Yerin-unnie’s boyfriend: Eun-ah, don’t forget to take your meds

Yerin-unnie’s boyfriend: Yerin says she misses you btw

A soft chuckle escaped Jieun’s lips as she typed out a response. 

Me: tell her i miss her too

Jieun quickly turned her phone off before slipping it back into her pocket. She closed her eyes and crossed her arms, enjoying the peace and quiet of the hallway. A group practice was scheduled right after the meeting was supposed to end, so Jieun took the time she had to relax before she’d be thrust right back into the loud and chaotic environment that the practice room often provided. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, though the sound of the door sliding open broke Jieun out of her relaxed state. Blinking, she turned toward the door to see Yunho stepping back out into the hallway, turning to her with a smile. 

“That went well,” he commented, gesturing toward her. “C’mon, we have to get to practice.” 

Yunho waited for her to catch up before he started walking, the two making their way out of the school together. It wasn’t until they were well away from the classroom and her teacher that Jieun spoke up. 

“How did you find out about my parent-teacher meeting?” she asked curiously. 

The older boy glanced down at her, letting out a small chuckle.

“You left the sign-up form on the kitchen table a couple days ago,” he explained. “There was no name written down, and I remembered you mentioning that Jihoon was busy for the next couple weeks because of an internship he was doing, so I put two and two together.” 

Despite still being dumbfounded by the whole situation, Jieun slowly nodded as they approached the bus stop. 

“And you…bought a suit to make a good impression…?” 

He laughed, shaking his head. 

“I borrowed it from my dad. Told him it was for a performance.” 

“You’re a good actor,” Jieun said, giggling slightly. “I think you made a good impression. I’ve never seen my teacher smile like that.” 

Yunho gave a small side shrug, trying to act nonchalant, though it was clear his ego was ever so slightly boosted by the compliment. 

“We should hurry though,” he said. “Don’t want to keep the others waiting now, do we?” 

Conveniently, the bus pulled up to the stop shortly after he spoke, stopping in front of the two. Jieun boarded first, tapping her bus card before walking toward the middle of the bus and sitting in an empty seat with Yunho following close behind. She stared at her reflection in the window as the bus took off, a small sigh escaping her lips.

Eventually, Jieun’s gaze shifted toward Yunho’s reflection, the boy turned the other way as he watched the moving traffic.

“Oppa?” she spoke softly, though the older boy immediately looked toward her. His eyebrows raised slightly as he gave a small hum. The corners of Jieun’s mouth tilted upward in a small smile. “Thanks.” 

Yunho blinked at her, his mind taking a moment to register what she meant before his own smile spread. He chuckled, ruffling her hair gently. 

“Like I said in the meeting, Eunnie: I’ll be there when you need me.” He shifted to sit slightly closer. “You can take a nap on my shoulder if you want. I’ll wake you up when we’re at our stop.” 

Jieun hesitated for a moment, though after looking up at the boy and seeing his warm gaze, she accepted his offer and rested her head on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, Jieun allowed herself to relax as the bus continued to move, knowing Yunho fully meant everything he said. 

BONUS #1: 

Jieun and Yunho stepped into the practice room together, where the other trainees were already warming up. 

The first to notice them was San, who greeted the two with a smile as he waved from the corner where he was sitting.

“Hi Eunnie, Yunho!” 

Jieun smiled as she waved back at the boy while the other members turned toward the two. One by one, she watched as confused expressions crossed each of their faces as they took in the older boy’s outfit. 

“Sorry for being late-” Yunho attempted to apologize, though was quickly cut off by Mingi.

“Why are you wearing a suit?” 

Without missing a beat, Jieun looked over at Mingi with a completely neutral expression as she spoke.

“Yunho-oppa committed identity theft.” 

The initial confusion from the members mixed with curiosity and questioning as they turned toward the aforementioned boy, who looked toward Jieun with a look of betrayal.

“You did what?” Hongjoong asked, crossing his arms as he looked at the boy with a stern expression. 

“Yunho-oppa came to my school and pretended to be Jihoon for my parent-teacher meetings,” Jieun explained bluntly.

“In my defense, your teacher only asked if I was your older brother,” Yunho said, raising his hands in the air. “I just never specified which one.” 

This earned a few snickers from the younger members, the only person in the room not amused by the story being their leader, who face-palmed as he shook his head.

Seonghwa shrugged, nudging his friend. "You know, he’s technically right.” 

“Please don’t entertain them,” Hongjoong said, rubbing his temples. After a few moments of what seemed to be contemplating his life choices, the older boy eventually let out a sigh. “Just get changed, guys. We’ll start when you’re back.” 

The two nodded as they moved to leave, though before doing so, Yunho reached over and ruffled the girl’s hair for the second time that day. He did it rougher than before, purposefully trying to mess up her hair as she swatted his hands away. 

The other members watched in amusement as Jieun made her escape, running out of the room with Yunho following close behind.  

BONUS #2: 

Yunho glanced over his shoulder, watching as Jieun swiftly exited the room. Once the door was closed, he turned back to her teacher with a serious expression, trying his best to hide his nervousness as she wrote something down. 

After a moment of silence, Jieun’s teacher put the pen down. Her gaze moved to the exit, landing on the small portion of Jieun’s head that could be seen through the classroom windows. She let out a sigh as she turned back to Yunho.

“I know that she’s an idol trainee and doesn’t have much time to connect with her peers outside of school, but even during school hours, I rarely see her with other people.” The boy’s eyebrows raised slightly, though he opted to continue listening. “She’s always off by herself in her own world. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little concerned for her social development.” 

Yunho slowly nodded as he contemplated his response. 

“Jieun has always been a really shy person,” he admitted with a small chuckle. “It took her weeks to start talking to m- her fellow trainees, as I was told.” 

“My apologies if this is too intruding, but would you happen to know what her relationship with the other trainees is like?” Jieun’s teacher asked. “She does lack social interactions at school, but it would ease my worries to know she is at least maintaining healthy friendships amongst people her age elsewhere.” 

Once again, Yunho was slow to respond, carefully picking each word before he answered her question. 

“The other trainees are generally around the same age. Jieun is the youngest, but the age gap is no more than three years from the older members. She was actually the second trainee to join the company and originally had a reputation for being cold and unfriendly.” The corners of his mouth tilted upwards into a small smile. “Though eventually, everyone realized that her reputation didn’t truly represent who she was as a person. She’d help the new trainees when they were learning and quietly cheer everyone on from the sidelines, so it didn’t take long for people to figure out that she wasn’t who they originally thought she was.

She’s one of the trainees who have had the most improvement during her time at the company. Her fellow trainees adore her and they all want her to succeed. If I had to describe her, I would say that she’s the beating heart of the team.”

Realizing he was rambling, Yunho cut himself off as heat rose to his face. He cleared his throat, nodding. 

“But anyways, I don’t think you need to worry about her friendships regarding her fellow trainees.” 

Jieun’s teacher nodded in agreement.

“It’s clear that Jieun receives a lot of love and support in her trainee company,” she said. A smirk crossed the teacher’s face as she leaned back in her chair. “Considering how one of them would go to the lengths of impersonating her brother to attend her parent-teacher conference.”

Yunho’s smile dropped as his eyes widened. He opened his mouth to splutter out a response, though Jieun’s teacher simply raised her hand to silence him. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t report this to administration,” she said, chuckling. “The main goal of these meetings is to give updates about the student’s progress to their closest family, and you clearly seem to be similar enough.” Jieun’s teacher picked up her pen, pointing to Yunho’s chest. “Though next time, maybe don’t forget to take off your ID card, Mr. Jeong.”

Yunho looked down, face flushing when he noticed the card he’d forgotten to take off his jacket, displaying his picture and full name. He quickly pulled the card off, stuffing it inside his pocket. 

“Everything I said about Jieun was true today. She’s a very bright student, but everyone needs help sometimes, and I hope you’ll be there for her when she does.”

Yunho nodded firmly, making direct eye contact with her. “You have my word.”

Jieun’s teacher smiled as she extended her arm, which Yunho instantly accepted as they shook hands. After saying a brief goodbye, he turned and started making his way out of the classroom, the previous words echoing in the back of his mind. His word might not have meant a lot, but he’d do his best regardless to stay true to the promise he’d made and prove he meant what he said.

[peachhcs]

YES YES YES another side plot!! i love the angst and tension of the wonder years

one person has spoken so this is becoming a side plot!!! so excited bc i love writing about the wonder years & expanding it further. this got way longer than i expected and way angstier than i thought LOL enjoy!!!

au masterlist | previous part

the state championships were the weekend before thanksgiving break up in alpena, so the boys packed into their cars to make the trip in support of samy and the team. it was the girls’ third year in a row making it to the state finals, so almost everyone from the school was in attendance on the cool november night.

will and the boys found seats with ellen, jim, and luke. even quinn and jack managed to catch a flight to watch their little sister play in what will be her final high school game.

marcie rallied everyone the night before to make signs for the whole team. they probably spent a good 4 hours altogether, but it was worth it in the end and getting to see each girl smile with excitement that they had a sign. the boys also excitedly took turns holding one of them up so everyone go some recognition.

“god, i hope they win. if they do, they’ll set a new record for the school,” marcie smiled despite the harsh cold that made everyone bundle up in layers of long sleeves and jackets.

“with samy they will. she’s gotten them to win for the past three years,” drew said like it wasn’t a big deal. the others chuckled.

“she’ll do fine. she knows what she’s doing,” will hummed, eyes finding samy’s number 6 down on the field. she was doing warm-ups with her teammates.

it was her lucky number ever since they were little. something about sixes was always catching her attention and the thought made the blonde smile. although, his happiness didn’t last long when a familiar voice snapped him from his thoughts:

“oh, hey. funny seeing you guys here,” it was kevin.

he’d been passing through the stands with some of his friends when he saw the boys a few rows down.

“what’s up, kevin?” marcie wondered, clearly not interested in his presence.

“not much. good to see you, mar. didn’t know you guys were coming,” kevin looked over at will and the guys where they exchanged wary glances.

“wouldn’t wanna miss supporting samy,” will decided he needed to stop letting kevin push him around, so he stood up for himself.

“agreed. she’s got some big stakes on her shoulders tonight,” kevin said and for some reason, that didn’t sit right in will’s stomach. shouldn’t boyfriends be more supporting of their girlfriends instead of just adding pressure to them?

“she’s gonna do great. we’ll be cheering either way,” ryan cut in.

“right. of course. well, good seeing you guys,” they all exchanged a tense wave, the jealousy being so obvious.

“could you look any less angry?” gabe nudged will’s shoulder who’s eyes were still on kevin’s retreating figure.

“he’s such a fucking idiot. ‘didn’t know you guys were coming’ why the fuck wouldn’t we?” the blonde voiced his frustrations to which no one had an answer to other than letting it go because picking a fight was not worth it right now.

will brushed the boy’s behavior off and focused on samy instead. the commentators began announcing the starting line-up, so the girls lined themselves up the field side by side with the opposing team. they played against grand rapids last year at the state finals, so would this be another win or redemption? everyone in their section was definitely hoping for another win.

“number 6, center offense: samy hughes!” everyone jumped up in cheers as the young brunette stepped forward to wave at the crowd. will held the sign up and he saw samy giggling at their energy before stepping back into line.

once they finished announcing everyone else, samy and her other co-captains went to the officials to decide who was playing on what side and discuss other minor details.

will could see kevin and his friends diagonal and three rows down from where they were. the boy caught his gaze and the two stared at one another with what felt like hot rivalry in both of their eyes.

the blonde quickly looked away. this wasn’t about him or kevin. this was about samy and her game tonight.

once the sides were decided for the first half, the girls got into position. samy was in the middle right in front of the ball. her and the center offense from grand rapids exchanged a few words, shook hands, and got into position.

the whistle blew marking the beginning of the first half.

it was a tense game right from the start. the grand rapids girls were always close and on the backs of ann arbor, a lot of pushing and shoving already underway. samy had good ball control, but she just couldn’t shake the other team to make a pass or get open.

“come on, sam! get around them!” jack began his rowdiness and will’s probably never seen the hughes brothers so focused on something besides hockey.

the teams continued battling it out, calling nonsense to one another that was hard to understand from the stands. samy would wave her hand to indicate she was open but then a girl from the other team got in front of her and blocked her pass. she was quick on her feet, nearly sending the brunette to the ground when she failed to get the ball back.

everyone’s eyes followed their movements across the field. the ball moved fast between feet, but then lauren eventually got ahold of it and went up the turf towards the goal.

“let’s go lauren! go! go!” marcie screamed so loud it hurt will’s ears.

lauren shoved her way past grand rapids, passing her to samy so she could get open again. samy took the ball to the corner before passing back to her teammate when she saw lauren back open. the girl took her shot and the entire stand erupted in cheers when it flew into the net.

“hell yeah! let’s go! wooo!!!” marcie jumped up in down in excitement.

now the girls just needed to keep that lead for the rest of the game and they’d be state champions for the 3rd year in a row.

—

by the time the first half ended, it was 4-3 and ann arbor had the lead, but it wasn’t easy getting those points. grand rapids were definitely out for redemption after last year’s loss. the teams went inside for halftime discussion and everyone began heading to the bathroom or getting food.

will and gabe offered to get things for everyone and surprise, surprise, kevin and his friends landed in line right behind them. the hockey players tried their best ignoring him knowing he technically was still the guy samy liked and was talking to.

“you know i never really understood why hockey goes to 3 periods. like why 3? why not 2? or go up to 4?” it was obvious kevin was trying to pull a reaction from them, mainly will.

him and gabe exchanged a glance. the darker haired boy gave a look saying to just ignore it and be chill, and that’s what will did.

or he tried to.

he kept his chill for probably a good 3 minutes. after 3 minutes, kevin’s friend was saying something about the girls on the team and then it turned to samy.

“she’s the hottest one on the team, no doubt about it,” one of them laughed and the others followed in agreement.

“dude, you’re so fucking lucky man. if you didn’t have dibs i’d totally hit that. have you seen her?” and that’s when will lost his cool. he spun around faster than gabe could stop him.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he snapped at the boys behind him. kevin and his friends exchanged a glance.

“excuse me?” kevin raised his eyebrow.

“if she’s your so called girlfriend, why the hell are you letting your friends talk about her in that way? fucking disgusting,” the blonde continued angrily.

“well am i wrong? don’t lie, you’ve totally thought that too,” will was pretty sure the other kid’s name was tyler and he wanted to smack that smirk right off his face.

“yeah, will, tell us. have you thought about it before?” kevin taunted and gabe pulled at his friend’s arm, trying to get him to just leave it before anything escalated.

“and if i did?” the blonde raised his eyebrow.

for a second, nothing happened and the boys were staring one another down. the next second everything happened so fast—kevin raised his arm, his hand balled into a fist that landed right into will’s cheek with a loud smack.

everyone around them gasped. gabe freaked, grabbing will before he fell over. kevin’s friends quickly pulled him back.

“what the fuck!” gabe yelled angrily at the brunette.

“so you admit! you’d have her in a second if you had the chance! i fucking knew it!” kevin yelled at will who pulled out of gabe’s grasp and launched himself at him.

will took his own punch at kevin and then they were both on the ground. everyone around them began yelling and screaming while gabe and kevin’s friends desperately tried pulling the boys apart.

ryan, aram, and drew appeared a moment later and used their combined strength to pull will away. ryan stepped between them, holding his friend back while kevin wiped the blood from his nose.

“alright, alright. everyone just calm down,” ryan said, trying to get the crowd to go away before someone came over and kicked everyone out.

“he fucking started it!” will exclaimed while the boys pulled him away. kevin’s friends pulled him away too and they dispersed before a teacher or something caught wind of what happened.

“dude, what the fuck?” ryan said as they sat will down at one of the benches to check him over.

“he punched me!” will exclaimed.

“that doesn’t mean you punch back, idiot,” gabe shook his head. luckily, the blonde wasn’t bleeding and nothing looked broken besides the bruise already forming on his cheek.

“what did you want me to do? stand there and listen to him and his friends talk about samy in that way? he’s just mad i’d be way better than him,” the blonde scoffed while the others just sighed.

“dude, if coach catches wind that you got into a fight with some kid, you’re not gonna be playing,” ryan shook his head too.

“i’m just standing up for samy which was something kevin was not doing when his friends started talking about her like that. some boyfriend he is.”

the boys exchanged a glance, unsure of what to do, but the they saw kevin coming back over. their glances hardened as they basically shielded will.

“if you’re here to start another fight, you better just turn around now,” ryan said.

“i’m not. i’m here to apologize or whatever,” kevin rolled his eyes.

“i don’t want your fucking apology, man,” will stood up, pushing ryan and gabe out of the way.

“look, me neither but i’m apologizing in hopes that you won’t tell samy what happened,” kevin crossed his arms.

“in hopes that i won’t tell her? you want me to shut my mouth about what your friend was saying about her and how you punched me because i was defending her?” will raised his eyebrow.

“look, dude, i got it all on video and i can send it to your coach and ruin everything for you if you don’t,” the blonde’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“you’re fucking threatening me now?” he looked back at the four boys who were also at a loss for words.

“one click,” kevin held his phone up.

will cursed to himself, running a hand through his hair.

“whatever. i’m sorry,” the blonde huffed.

“good. i’m sorry too,” the brunette held his hand out and pulled will into one of those bro hugs. “and if i hear anything about what actually happened and people talking, i won’t be afraid to post this everywhere,” kevin whispered before will pulled back.

the two exchanged a glance before fully letting go and kevin walking away.

“jesus christ,” gabe mumbled.

“i fucking hate him,” will scoffed before heading back to the stands and hoped no one would see the bruise and ask about it.

marcie did notice it though and so did luke. “dude, what happened to your face?” the girl shrieked.

“nothing,” will kept his eyes down and pulled his hood further over his head.

“nothing? that’s a big fucking bruise, man,” luke said.

“did someone punch you?” marcie kept asking questions.

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” will shook his head.

marcie and luke exchanged a glance, but they decided to let it go for now so they wouldn’t draw anymore attention to it. will’s gaze saw kevin glancing up at him and the blonde really wished he could punch him again. the first time felt really good.

—

ann arbor won the finals in an overwhelming 7-4. the whole section cheered their names as they were awarded their medals and the banner to hold up for a photo. samy’s smile couldn’t be bigger as her teammates lifted her up into the air with the trophy and chanted her name.

everyone lined the railing so samy could go down the line and high five everyone. will kept to the back when she got to them. he didn’t want her to see his bruise and make her worry. she didn’t need that after winning the state championship. the brunette was too caught up in everything that she didn’t even notice will hanging in the back more.

the teams waved one last goodbye before heading back inside to debrief, so the stands started heading out to the parking lot where the players would meet their families for more proper hugs.

will kept his head down the entire time, pretending her was interested in his phone as him and everyone else waited in the parking lot.

“alright, be honest with me. what happened?” marcie was back at it now that they weren’t around everyone anymore.

“i said it’s nothing,” will shook his head.

“bullshit, smith,” marcie looked at the other boys like they would tell her instead.

“it’s fine, i promise, mar,” the blonde said.

“will, you have a bruise the size of a tomato on your cheek. what happened?” the girl wasn’t gonna give it up this time.

“he threatened me, mar. i can’t talk about it,” will snapped a bit.

“who?!”

“who do you think?” ryan cut in.

marcie quickly realized who they were talking about. her entire face fell, “kevin punched you?”

“if i say what happened, he threatened me with the video of it and will send it everywhere, especially my coach. i can’t have that on the internet, especially with this being the last year and my commitment to boston,” will said quietly, making sure kevin or his friends weren’t nearby.

“holy shit, will. why is he threatening you if he punched you?”

“it’s more about what he said and who he doesn’t want to find out,” will hoped marcie would get it without him having to explicitly say it.

she did because her expression turned angrier.

they didn’t have anymore time to talk about it though because the doors opened and the girls poured out, cheers and shouts leaving their lips as the reunited with their parents.

samy came out close to the back, the trophy high in her hands. ellen and jim were hugging her first along with her brothers who were congratulating her. marcie just squeezed will’s arm, telling him they’d talk about this later before jumping over to congratulate her best friend on her third win.

will trailed behind everyone else. he enjoyed the way samy never stopped smiling and the excitement in her expression as she hugged everyone who came up to her.

“so glad you guys came. i loved the signs,” the girl chuckled as she finally got to hugging the boys.

“of course, obviously we’d never miss this,” ryan smiled.

when she got to will the boy ducked his head into her shoulder before she saw the bruise. she squeezed him tightly and he did the same back.

“congrats,” will cheered.

“thanks so much for coming. i think you’re my good luck charm,” the girl chuckled making the blonde flush.

when they pulled away, samy didn’t miss the new bruise on his face this time. she grabbed his face, eyes wide.

“what the hell happened?” she exclaimed which caught the attention of everyone else around them.

will grew nervous, eyes darting to gabe, ryan, aram, drew, or marcie for help.

“i accidentally smacked him when i was cheering. it got crazy in the stands,” marcie spoke up first.

“that hard?” samy didn’t quite believe it.

“my hands flew up when you guys scored and it collided with will’s cheeks. totally my bad. you know how i get,” the girl laughed.

samy glanced between the two before seemingly believing it. “jeez, mar. didn’t know your cheers got so aggressive,” the brunette chuckled and a wave of relief washed through will that she believed them.

no one else asked after that. not even when kevin came over to congratulate her and eyed will when samy wasn’t looking. no one even batted an eye when kevin had a similar, but smaller bruise on his face.

[greedbent]

Maybe this was proof, then: that the pair of them weren’t entirely proper with their means of handling what the great majority of humanity feared most. (Not that Kaz could blame them; he often wondered if it was so much death itself that was so unsavory, or simply the idea of running out of time—of not being able to do the things you’d set out to do.) Though he’d been the one to crack a smile as if they discussed little more than this morning’s weather, it was Baizhu who went a step further . . . and when a sudden laugh burst from his chest, Kaz regretted that he actually jumped.

His hands tightened on his cane before it managed to slip, and some juvenile part of him was pleased that the fit (a laughing kind, as opposed to the usual coughing) likely kept his company distracted in the meantime. Both against that sorry little fright, and the way Kaz found himself staring, because . . . well, damn it all. As if it wasn’t already clear as day that the doctor had a way of catching Kaz off-guard, here was another example for the ledger. And he might as well be writing this all in his own blood, for pity’s sake.

It took him longer than it should have. Again, Baizhu’s chiming giggles plucked at a strange string within him—a stitch somewhere Kaz had forgotten existed—and before he might’ve had the opportunity to piece together just what was so outstandingly hilarious about their conversation . . . Baizhu beat him to the chase.

Something—or someone—came back, then, for the barest of moments. He knew what it was. He knew who it was. And he knew, with those convictions in mind, why his face heated just slightly, why he felt a lump in his throat and had to forcibly swallow, why a restlessness reawakened in the fidgeting of his fingers. And he knew why he had to bury it back down as efficiently as possible.

“I just prefer not having to perform a summoning ritual on your lost soul next time I need you,” Kaz supplied, and though he shrugged as if uncaring toward this all, that little smirk came back. “I find ghosts difficult to work with.” He, too, turned his gaze to meet Baizhu’s—and likely another nail in his own coffin, ironically; the man was looking at him with a new and unbridled earnestness that threatened to bring back what Kaz had just pushed down.

Though, distantly, he had to question whether pushing it down just meant holing it up in that part of himself where Baizhu had already burrowed.

Kaz himself couldn’t help a quiet chuckle as he looked away. “I wouldn’t expect you to. It doesn’t fit your nature to give up on anything,” he said, pausing only briefly before adding, “or anyone.” It was clear exactly who “anyone” meant here. Kaz didn’t waste his breath elaborating. It was becoming more and more evident he never needed to with Baizhu.

When that final playful remark hit him, it had a surprisingly opposite effect to most everything else, sobering the humor on Kaz’s face right up. He cocked his head to peer back. “We’d manage, but have a much more difficult time of it,” Kaz admitted. “There’s no one else quite like you.”

Of all the times for Kaz to crack a smile, it would be during such depressing talk of death, wouldn't it?

Baizhu loathed these conversations with his patients. He hated admitting defeat to such cruel realities: acknowledging the mortality of mankind to someone who was suffering the most for it; acknowledging that he couldn't save everyone no matter how deeply he wanted to.

Death was the ultimate insult. Merely speaking of it sickened him worse than the "disease" that would bring his own death to pass.

But in this moment? Perhaps it was that rare, would-be out-of-place curve upon the other's lips that helped Baizhu stomach it. An even rarer sentiment straight from Kaz's heart certainly did a number on the doctor's own, and Baizhu soon found himself mirroring the expression. He had the good grace not to dwell on the admission, however, merely listening to the other's stance on such a hopeless situation.

It was relieving to hear that his assumptions had been correct. But in an extraordinary turn, his jest about his own "value" actually seemed to strike a nerve. Baizhu's countenance sobered as he caught the signs, his brows raising expectantly (or, dare he say, hopefully) at the halting beginnings of a rebuttal. And it was a rebuttal—but in a manner so absurd that he would never have expected it from Kaz of all people.

Your time won't come soon. Oh? Is that so?

Baizhu had no control over the shocked laughter that burst from his chest. "Is that what it means to be one of Kaz Brekker's investments? I'm not even allowed to die without your permission?" Wasn't that a delightful notion? For someone so rational to state such a thing as if it were a decision Kaz himself could make...

Though it was much too late to hide it now, he did make a futile attempt to stifle his giggles behind a hand over his mouth. Still, there was no hiding the mirth crinkling around golden eyes. All at once the heavy weight of this conversation eased from his shoulders. He was far too amused and flattered to leave room for anything else.

"I'll take it as a compliment," he assured before his laughter could be misconstrued. Taking a moment to compose himself, Baizhu's smile softened. "You've already done a great deal to help; I couldn't possibly ask more of you. Besides, what happened to 'only playing the game when you know the outcome,' hm?"

He shook his head, but there was a distinct warmth in his voice, "I appreciate your eagerness—truly, I do." And he lingered on that sentiment for a moment, earnestness passing in the lock of their eyes. "But I'm sure I don't need to tell you that an illness like mine isn't an opponent that can be predicted, much less controlled. Even I can't say for certain when it will finally run its course." Not even Changsheng knew that answer, as infuriating as it was.

"But don't worry; I don't intend to go quietly." Baizhu had long ago resolved that death would have to drag him away kicking and screaming. "I don't care for leaving things unfinished, either; I have plenty of my own reasons to fight for every moment I can get." Soon enough, that glint of cheekiness returned to his gaze. "Not to mention that I shudder to think of what you and your Crows would do without me."

[hyvyinjie]

hi! Can I ask for a headcannon about Minamoto teru x childhood friend reader? Where teru is really over protective and gentle towards the reader. Reader is a lazy person, and often sleepy, the things he likes are reading comics and playing game in their phone. They also refuses teru's invitation to join the student council. Thank you! :)

why of course! it’d be an honor to grant such an ask. apologies for taking quite a while to do so—though i hope my work meets your expectations, wonderful nonie!<3

—LOST IN THE HAZE OF YOUR DREAMSCAPE.

featuring ; minamoto teru & you as our star.

+ small akane & aoi mentions.

ah, minamoto teru; the very embodiment of perfection—as he was hailed and as he carried himself with utter conviction.

a master of powers, a paragon of academic prowess, and a maestro in all things extraordinary. could there be anything he did not conquer?

yet, his persona, a labyrinth of complexities, as if harboring a multitude of souls within his very being.

now, here you arrive in his peculiar life—meeting with the intricacies of his existence.

when your paths converged, it ignited a tempestuous collision, a clash of peculiar forces.

initially, your mere presence held no sway over him. in truth, he perceived you as an encumbrance, burdened by your languid nature. for he, a relentless pursuer of flawlessness, demanded nothing less.

but lo and behold. fate—that cunning trickster—wove its intricate threads, meticulously mending the frayed tapestry of your connection.

through the passage of time, a tapestry of happenstance encounters and the subsequent flourishing of interactions—a nascent camaraderie took root. he slowly, but surely grew attuned to your idiosyncrasies, harmonizing with your rhythm. while the power to surmount every obstacle at your side eludes him still, he persists, striving to offer his utmost.

oh please have mercy on this young man—forever enmeshed in the whirlwind of his exorcist duties. and yet, even amidst the chaos, his devotion knows no bounds when it comes to those he holds dear.

one might assume that quality time would be sacrificed for the trivial, but fear not, for you found yourself on the fortunate side—the one he’d willingly carved out moments to be with.

initially, your encounters were fleeting, brief snippets of time. however, as the sands of time trickled down, these fragments transformed into meticulously planned sleepovers. he meticulously orchestrated these occasions, ensuring they did not encroach upon his demanding schedule.

your bond thrived during these cozy gatherings, or tranquil rendezvous, where he wholeheartedly immersed himself in your passions—comics and video games.

though not extensively versed in these realms, one might imagine that you—with your infectious enthusiasm to the field—was the catalyst for his exploration and understanding of the realm of entertainment. this was evidenced by the gradual increase in invitations to game nights and his newfound willingness to engage in discussions about captivating narratives. perhaps, you both even exchanged recommendations for comics, as kindred spirits often do.

as the both of you and the world grew older—it became evident that he honed his social skills; presenting himself as a complete package. every aspect of his being held an irresistible allure, captivating the hearts of women, and even some fellow men. many yearned and openly expressed their desire to be the chosen one by his side.

however, even amidst the clamoring crowd, his gaze remained steadfastly fixed upon you.

of course, as the old adage goes; with great power comes great responsibility—the price of his popularity gradually revealed itself.

certain students, teetering on the edge of obsession, noticed the distinct tenderness he displayed towards you, surpassing his general kindness towards all. seizing upon this perceived vulnerability, they occasionally resorted to devious methods, seeking to eliminate you from the equation, taking advantage of moments when slumber claimed you.

naturally, he swiftly uncovered their plot, intervening before they could execute their nefarious intentions.

needless to say, the number of such audacious attempts dwindled significantly. what exactly he did to deter them remains a mystery known only to him and his would-be victims.

still, worried that the possibility of a recurrence and his absence to intervene, he took it upon himself to practically implore—some might even say beg—you to join the student council. this would ensure that he, or even akane if needed, could keep a watchful eye over you with greater ease.

however, true to your nature, you steadfastly rebuffed each futile attempt to persuade you. despite his persistent efforts, you remained resolute in your refusal.

eventually, your golden boy relented, recognizing that his endeavors were in vain…but that was just because he found an alternative solution.

he encouraged—forced—akane to be the one to look after you discreetly whenever he couldn’t. only choosing to partially reveal his intentions to avoid alarming you at the time, as you were unfamiliar with akane’s existence.

or so it had been until he observed that you and the school’s vice president shared a rather unique bond.

although akane would occasionally scold you for being so excessively somnolent, mistaking it for you being irresponsible, hence, occasionally comparing you to the greatness of his lady aoi—teru—ever vigilant and mindful of akane’s every interaction with you, ensured that his usual brutal tendencies were significantly tempered. still—it remained a part of the deputy’s essence, defining his very being, just albeit subdued in your presence.

it could be surmised that akane once attempted to tease—or rather, foolishly inquire, about teru’s subtle yet perceptible shifts in behavior whenever you were involved.

“it’s almost as if you like them.”

in an almost immediate reaction—the president paused, slowly turning his head to gaze at akane, a shadow casting a smile that concealed the upper portion of his closed eyes.

the ginger-haired vice executive, feeling an ominous presence despite the absence of visible eyes, found himself sweating profusely as he cautiously added,

“—to the point where anyone could mistake you for family!"

sensing the gravity of his words, akane mentally vowed to never broach the subject again. he restrained himself from ever mentioning it whenever he witnessed the two of you together.

curiosity gnawed at you as you noticed his all-knowing gaze transform into one of horror whenever you turned your head, as if peering behind you; at none other than the pretty blonde himself, who seemed to be doing nothing wrong, merely proven to have been innocently smiling the whole time, or so he put up whenever you looked back at him.

oblivious to the truth, you always dismissed it as ‘akane’s peculiar moments of ptsd flashbacks’ whenever he saw teru.

however, let me share a little secret with you.

did you know the true reason behind teru’s death stare? no? well, do you wanna know?

then do allow me to spill it for you.

it was simply because akane, using the keyword; "like," insinuated that teru had a ‘liking-only level’ romantic feeling for you. the misconception provoked such a reaction from teru, for he wanted to correct that statement because he loved you, not just liked you.

seriously, can’t people let him finish what he’s saying?

[burstfoot]

Figured I'd make a post outlining Arknights' auxiliary material for those who want to see more of the universe and aren't aware of all that's out there! ANIMATION Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2, currently airing): [Crunchyroll]

A straight up adapation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Lee's Detective Agency: (Youtube)

A mini-series animated in a chibi-style with a comedic tone focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: (Youtube)

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short Youtube OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary!

[Upcoming]: Kay's Daily Doodles: (Twitter Annoucement)

Another free youtube mini-series that starts airing December 1st, focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Official Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: (Offical Website)

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: (Official Source)

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: (Official Source)

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written. I particularly recommend the Goldenglow (Chapter 4) and Rosa (Chapter 5) chapters.

Unofficially Translated

Arknights Comic Anthology: (Mangadex)

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Note that the link provided only has complete translations up to Volume 4 (and Vol. 4 is missing Ch. 7), and most of the chapters avaliable after that point were MTL'd, so I can't vouch for their accuracy. Chapters I'd recommend are: Volume 1: Chapter 12 (focused on Myrrh trying to improve her medicine), Chapter 14 (focused on Saria and Silence trying to put apart their differences to take Ifrit on vacation, afaik the only place where they are directly referred to as her "moms") Volume 2: Chapter 1 (Manticore tries to make friends), Chapter 3 (The LGD gets drunk), Chapter 11 (Texlapp and Mosexu yuribait), Ch. 13 (Magallan tries to find a pet), Chapter 16 (Ethan spies on the interior lives of Rhodes operators) Volume 3: Chapter 6 (Snowsant, Ifrit, Nian and Shaw are forced to make friends), Chapter 7 (Gummy flashes back to Chernobog), Chapter 10 (FEater and Shaw yuribait), Chapter 13 (Blackout on the landship, as well as Ayerscarpe and Leonhardt yaoibait)

Volume 4: Chapter 4 (Thorns tries to make friends with Weedy [this one is my favourite]), Chapter 6 (Tomimi tail spankings), Chapter 9 (Elysium helps Frostleaf get along with Dur-Nar) Volume 6: Ch. 1 (Whisperain opens up to others) [this one isn't MTL'd afaik]

123 Rhodes Island: (Mangadex)

A series of non-canon gag 4komas! Many of the games' offical stickers are done in this series' art style.

Arknights: Operators!: (Mangadex)

A compilation of 4komas posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on translating these, please show them some love!!

[Edit: For clarities sake, the only stuff here that has used MTL is later chapters of the Comic Anthology! Sleepywoodscans’ work on Operators! is all done by hand (they’re a native Japanese speaker). Again, I really appreciate their work!]

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: (Mangadex)

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Unfortunately, only translated up to Chapter 6, but one of the characters (Elba) has a brief cameo in Light Sparks in Darkness! Edit: Chapter 7 has been translated by @pooce-art, and they're working on Chapter 8!

Angelina: Sketches of THIS Messenger's Journey: (Mangadex)

Also published as part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focuses on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Recent chapters relate to the upcoming Sami event & IS4, as well as the upcoming So Long, Adele.

Prelude Suite: Unrestrained Play: (Wiki)

Unfortunately, I can't find a full translation for this one - an epilogue to Hortus De Esscapismo focusing on Arturia's background. Of course, major spoilers for Hortus apply - if you can find a full translation yourself.

As well, an upcoming manhua focused on the Break the Ice cast was annouced during the 4.5 Anniversary stream. As far as I'm aware, chapters have not begun releasing yet!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: (Youtube)

A series of concerts (3 so far), focusing around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022 and 2023.

Monster Siren Records: (Spotify) (Official Website)

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: (Twitter)

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for their CN servers!

Arknights: Nomad City: The Founders: (Youtube)

A to-be-released CN Arknights board game! Unclear of if it will ever be translated or released globally, unfortunately...

Terra: A Journey: (Wiki)

An upcoming CN lore book focused on the intricate details of Terra's worldbuilding. As well, unclear if it will be translated or released globally.

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are the Arknights Terra Wiki - which just transferred from FANDOM to wiki.gg, and has very detailed information on both game mechanics and world-lore.

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game!

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are avaliable in-game.

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or at least provides an easy reference resource in the future. There's a lot to check out even outside of the game, and I hope you find some stuff you enjoy!

[pachimation]

an 8 page comic about childe visiting scaramouche after the sumeru archon quest

[amphorographia]

Something interesting about Pathologic that I don't see people talk about very often is the fact that technically none of the protagonists are doctors and, of the three, it's actually Artemy that's the closest to a real physician.

The fact that Daniil is specifically referred to as a "Bachelor" of medicine is something that was always sort of confusing to me but is actually extremely telling when put together with all the other details we get about him.

There's an excellent video essay about Daniil's character by Horror Game Analysis which goes into more detail about this [x], but he points out two things about thanatology that I think are really significant:

It was first conceptualised as a field of study in 1903 by Ilya Mechnikov, a Russian-Ukranian immunologist and microbiologist, who felt that there was not enough known about the phenomenon of death itself; and

Thanatology straddles the line between the humanities and the sciences because it's investigations grapple with the physical, psychological, socio-cultural, philosophical, and spiritual elements of death

With all that in mind and Pathologic's ambiguous time period, Daniil could very much be read as the in-game world's equivalent of Mechnikov. Despite his (sort of) alignment with the philosophically-minded Kains, Daniil is consistently shown to be very much focused on the physical components of death. He came to the town hoping that "[Simon's] tissues will help [him] defeat death." Rubin, Artemy, Victor (and Lara, Yulia, Aspity, Anna, and Clara) all need him to collect and examine blood samples for evidence of the disease. Once the plague begins, his focus in on the creation of a vaccine - a tool for immunisation - instead of a cure.

All of the evidence points to Daniil, at his core, being a microbiologist and researcher. His medical knowledge, while far above average, is highly specialised and doesn't indicate that he has any practical experience as a physician. He's not a doctor, he's a bachelor of medicine using his theoretical and academic expertise to fight an impossible disease in the only way he knows.

Now, Artemy does have some practical knowledge. Isidor taught him about the traditional medicine of the town while he was growing up before sending him to "study modern medicine in the academy" when he was 16. However, in his opening description, all we are told is that Artemy is returning from several years of "travelling from town to town learning theoretical and pratical surgery." In Pathologic Classic, Artemy is canonically 26 years old so if he spent 6-7 years travelling, his formal medical education was likely either short or incomplete. Not to mention that the emphasis on Artemy as a surgeon and menkhu (much like Daniil as a bachelor and thanatologist) implies a very specialised area of expertise which, although closely related to practical medicine, is not the same thing.

This is reinforced in a number of ways. For example, while there are multiple dialogue options which let you dismiss the town's local medical practices, they appear mostly (or only) in conversations with outsiders - responding to Daniil's admission of underestimating the value of "steppe medical knowledge" with "there's nothing medical in their knowledge" and telling Block that he has "an education in the civilized world and ha[s] forgotten two thirds of the specific local practices." Ultimately, Artemy is more consistently aligned with the Kin's more bodily approach to medicine. That distinction between Kin and Town is important, since the traditional medicines Artemy makes are not valued or trusted by townspeople and the kin refuse almost all of the modern medicine (specifically antibiotics) sold in the town.

He also seems to be either unfamiliar or seriously out of practice with the more formal language of science and medicine a university-educated physician should know. At several points, Artemy is shown to be dependent on Daniil's medical knowledge, and various members of the town poke fun at him for asking clarifying questions - Boy: "You graduated from a university and this is your question…?" Rubin: "I thought you were [away] studying." Artemy's story is about trying to fill his father's role and, while he succeeds in becoming a menkhu, his position as the town's doctor is less clearly defined even after the plague. While he begins the game with the most practical experience of the three protagonists, the fact that he's not qualified to be a physician but has to act as one is what drives his story forward.

I won't go into Clara since it's obvious she's not a doctor. If anything, she's more like a personification of a cure for this one specific disease (just like her 'twin' is the plague). She couldn't reset a bone or diognose the flu any more than she could synthesise antibiotics or distinguish between bacteria in a blood sample. Still, she's an interesting comparison point and does serve to remind the player that the protagonists don't really represent different approaches to medicine, but different approaches to healing.

The Bachelor is the modern healer of formal scientific practices who sees healing as the result of understanding the body, disease, and their interactions.

The Haruspex is the traditional healer with the spiritual or ancestral right to protected knowledge and practices who sees healing as a reflection of cultural duty, customs, and community.

The Changeling is the divine healer chosen by a Deity (or Deities) to carry out their will on earth who sees healing as an act of religious faith and demonstration of the existence and power of God(s).

[kaye-go-moo]

Shapes and Strange Ciphers AU: Need a hand? Pt. 2

SaSC by me

Shapes and Pines by @/void-dude

Next Part

Jheselbraum, on the rare occasions she saw Bill in town, noticed his behavior gradually becoming increasingly strange over the span of a few weeks. At first, his movements were clumsy and awkward, stumbling through the streets like a child learning to walk. She initially assumed he was drunk, but as time passed, it became clear something else was wrong. His walk became more refined, but completely different from his usual stride—his head held high, his steps confident, and his hands clasped neatly behind his back. However, this wasn't nearly as disturbing as his newfound hostility towards others. Bill, who had always been somewhat stand-offish but never rude, acted arrogant, treating those around him as if they were beneath him. 

Bill also appeared disheveled; his hair was long and tangled, his clothes dirty, and his face gaunt. There was also something off with his eyes. Jheselbraum couldn't place it, but they just looked wrong—dark and empty, like something had crawled inside of Bill's skin and was poorly imitating him. Jheselbraum was filled with a growing sense of unease, the feeling in her gut that had kept her in gravity falls returned, leading her to pay Bill a visit.

-

When she entered his house, Jheselbraum was taken aback by its state. The place was a wreck—papers strewn everywhere, cobwebs draped over the furniture, and dust filled the air. Is Bill really living here?

She called out his name, but there was no response. She ventured down into the basement and found him working on the portal. He looked awful. With his long hair tied into a messy ponytail, revealing his condition was far worse than Jheselbraum had initially believed, "Bill?"

Bill jumped and looked up in surprise, “J-Jhesel? What are you doing here?”

"I was worried. About you." Her gaze lingered, examining his decrypate from, her face a mix of shock and concern.

Bill’s expression darkened as he turned to continue his work., “Im fine. You can leave now.”

"Fine? You call this fine?” Her anger surged, “Bill, what the hell is going on with you?" 

For once, Jheselbraum didn’t hold back. Normally, she would leave in quiet frustration, wanting to avoid confrontation, but not this time. She had reached her limit. If escalating was the only way to get Bill to listen, then so be it.

She unleashed everything—her concerns and frustration from the last year, picking apart his every action. She questioned his sanity, asking if he was having a mental crisis. She tore him to pieces before threatening to contact his family, “Is that what it will to get you to pull your head out of your ass?”. However, this only managed to anger Bill and send him over the edge.

Bill had been frozen in stunned silence, but the mention of his family caused him to snap. His face contortinf with rage as he yelled, “Leave them out of this!”

He unleashed a barrage of cutting insults, using her insecurities and regrets as amunition. In his rage, he grabbed a nearby tool and flung it at her.

It missed, bouncing off the wall behind her and clattering to the floor. Jheselbraum stood in shock, face pale and eyes wide. She stumbled back, turned, and bolted up the stairs, fleeing the house and driving away.

Bill sat there, paralyzed, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. He wanted to chase after her, but his legs wouldn’t move. Minutes passed before he managed to stumbled to his feet and up the upstairs. The front door was open, left ajar by Jheselbraum. He reached outt, his hand hovered over the doorknob. I should apologize.

“You should stay here,” Bill shifted his attention to Ford. “Things will only escalate if you go after her.”

Bill, deflated, slowly closing the door. He stood in silence, staring blankly at the knob, fog clouding his mind. “You should rest.” Ford glided in front of Bill, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Bill silently obeyed, numbly turning and walking to his bedroom. He slumped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he feel fast sleep, unaware of what Ford did while he rested.

When he woke, he back in the basement, a sticky note left by Ford sitting in front of him: ‘There's nothing to worry about. The problem is solved. Continue fulfilling your legacy.’

A pit formed in Bill’s stomach and a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed hard, let out a shaky breath. Rising to his feet, he turned back to the portal, but a chilling anxiety brewed in his chest as he forced himself to continue working.

-

A week had passed with Bill tirelessly working on the Portal and Ford taking over his body at night. But eventually, something clicked in Bill's mind. Why wasn’t anyone banging down the front door? Why hadn’t anyone called? Knowing Jheselbraum, she would’ve definitely told his family about their fight. So why was no one there?

A cold shiver ran down his spine as Ford’s words flashed in his mind ‘the problem is solved’. What did that mean? Bill thought back, remembering all of his doubts, doubts he had kept hidden—doubts Ford had somehow known. Ford knew exactly what to tell Bill to keep his fears down. To keep him down. Something wasn’t right.

Unable to shake the feeling, Bill raced out of the house and into town. Heading towards Jheselbraum's apartment, he spotted her wandering the streets. Relief washed over him as he ran up to her and began apologizing, stopping when he noticed her confused and worried expression.

"Do I know you?"

Bill’s heart sank. His face paled as he looked her over. She was wearing the same clothes from when he last saw her, but no coat or shoes—in the middle of winter. He quickly wrapped his jacket around her, ushering her towards his car and out of the cold. But she recoiled in fear, wriggling out of Bill’s grasp before running away.

He tried to chase after her, but his exhaustion slowed him to a wheezing crawl. Bill spent the rest of the day searching, but the cold forced him to stop. Desperation pushed him to ask the police for help, but all they could offer was a vague promise to “keep an eye out.”

Bill had no choice but to return home. He needed to call the Jheselbraums family and tell them. Tell them... what exactly? That their daughter had gone mad? That she lost her mind and was now wondering underdressed through the cold? Thinking about it, he realized he didn't even remember their numbers. He couldn’t remember anyone's number. Bill never could, always having to rely on an old notebook with the everyones contact information listed.

Bill frantically searched the house, but the notebook was gone. Even his phone had disappeared.His breath quickened, becoming ragged, as the world collapsed in on him. Nothing was where it should, no one was acting how they should be. Nothing was right and he had no one—not his friend or his family. He was alone.

Bill crumpled to the floor in a sobbing heap before waking to a familiar cosmos. Ford hovered above him, trying to explain away all of Bill’s doubts.

Bill stayed quiet, listening to Ford try and rationalize what Bill saw. Then Ford paused, seemingly interrupted by a silent voice. He looked down at Bill, examining him with a narrowed eye.

"I want the truth." Bill's voice was cold, his eye fixed on Ford.

Ford sighed with annoyance, looking at Bill with disappointment. "I'll give you this one chance, Cipher."

With a snap, the dream unraveled, and Bill was bombarded with flashes of creatures and places he had never seen before, inventions he could never dream of creating.

"This will all be ours, my protégé.” Ford gestured towards the images, “Anything we desire. Everything we deserve."

Bill's head was spinning. Overwhelmed, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, "No! I asked for the truth, Stanford! Give me the truth!"

Ford's eye darkened, and a flash of red anger painted his shape. He closed his eye, recollecting himself before he raised his hand, fingers bracing against each other. His eye reopened, staring at Bill with a cold indifference.

"To think I would've let you join me."

Snap

-

Ford took control of Bill's body, forcing it up from the floor and over to the basement door. First, he changed the doors passcode before heading down to the lab. There, he grabbed one of his secret side projects: a pin lock, which he installed on the closet door. Afterwards, he turned his attention to the portal, picking up where Bill had left off. He worked until Bill’s body reached its limit, its hand’s trembling too much to use. Finally, Ford locked himself in the closet. Now, Bill was trapped—only able to leave when Ford possessed his body.

-

Ford continued working on the portal, knowing it would be complete in a few more days. However, Bill didn't make it easy. When awake, he tried breaking down the door, leaving his body too exhausted for Ford to use, delaying the portal's completion. Bill’s continued escape efforts lead him to work his frail body past its limits. In a desperate attempt to slow Ford's progress, he restored to hurting himself. Forcing Ford to work with broken bones and trembling limbs. Ford tried reasoning with Bill—through flattery or insult—doing everything he could to break him down. But Bill held strong.

After a few days, Bill finally managed to break down the door and weakly climb upstairs, only to be met with another lock installed by Ford. In that moment, Bill nearly gave up. His body was wrecked, the pain being the only thing keeping him conscious. Ford tried encouraging Bill’s weakness, insisting his actions were pointless. But Bill fought off his desire to quit and steeled his resolve. 

He tried kicking down the metal door, but his legs were too weak. Taking a moment to assess his surroundings, he realized he could just break through the wooden wall instead. With renewed determination, he shuffled back down to the lab and grabbed his tools. He spent hours tearing at the the wall, all while enduring Ford’s manipulation. Eventually he broke through.

Bill raced to the front door, only to be halted by a raging blizzard. It was too risky to push through the snow—he could die of hypothermia or pass out, giving Ford to the chance to regain control or manipulate someone else into finishing the portal. He had no choice but to find a solution inside the house.

Bill frantically searched for something—anything—that might help him deal with Ford. It was a feverish attempt made more difficult as night fell. Ford had taken the time to remove every light bulb in the house, leaving Bill in the dark and forcing him to return to the basement. There he found a busted old torch that he used to light his way.

During his search, he came across an old photo of him with his friends. A heavy pit formed in his stomach as he stared at the picture, a reminder of forgotten memories and broken friendships. Before he could dwell on it for too long, another photo caught his eye.

In it, a younger Bill smiled proudly as he held up a first-place prize from a science contest. Beside him stood someone he hadn't seen in almost a decade—his old babysitter, first friend, and big brother, Tad. Tears welled up in Bill’s eyes as he realized just how much he missed Tad. How much he’s needed him—now more than ever.

Suddenly, an idea grounded him. Bill jumped to his feet, rifling through drawers until he found an unfinished postcard addressed to Tad. “What good will that do?” Fords voice cut through Bills thoughts “He abandoned you, Cipher. What makes you think he’ll come back?” Bill paused. Ford was right. And even if he wasn’t, who was Bill to ask Tad to travel all the way to Gravity Falls just to help him? They hadn’t spoken in years. Did Tad even remember Bill existed?

Taking a deep breath, Bill steadied himself. I won’t know unless I send it. He wrote “PLEASE COME!” followed by his home address. Once the blizzard died down, he bundled up and made his way into the woods, placing the letter in an old, rusted mailbox. He lifted the flag and left, hoping—praying—Tad would receive it.

-

While waiting for Tad, Bill loaded up on caffeine and energy medication, trying to stay awake for as long as possible. He couldn't risk Ford taking over his body and locking himself somewhere he couldn't escape. Bill continued his search for something against Ford, but he couldn’t find his journals. He nearly tore the house apart, but there was nothing—Ford had either hidden or destroyed them. Defeated, Bill shifted his focus to dismantling the portal.

It was far from an easy task. Bill's body was weak from a lack of food and sleep, and with his journals gone, he had to rely on scattered notes and his foggy memory. He gathered what he could find, but between Ford’s constant badgering and Bill's sleep deprivation, it was hard to focus. Things only got worse when he started to have hallucinations—or what he convinced himself were hallucinations.

Every bump and creak sent Bill into panic, scrambling to find its cause. The only way he could get any work done was by tricking himself into thinking everything was fine. As long as he saw Ford, he was safe, his presence brought Bill a strange sense comfort. He could keep and eye on him and didn’t have to be completely alone—though its debatable if being alone would’ve be better than hanging out with your captor.

One night, after ignoring a series of thumps upstairs, Bill was startled by the sound of breaking glass. He looked around and realized Ford was gone. He’d been so focused on the portal that Bill didn’t notice his absence. Grabbing a long metal pipe, he raced upstairs, slowing as he neared the source of the noise. He was chilled to see a decaying body crawling through the broken window, its eye glowing a golden hue.

"Stop with these games, Cipher." The corpse’s voice was raspy, its words disturbingly familiar. Ford. "I gave you the opportunity to do one worthwhile thing in your pathetic life, and you wasted it."

Bill froze, trembling as the corspe staggered to its feet. "This is your last chance."

A bloody hand reached out toward him. Bill's grip on the pipe tightened.

"Cipher, my protégé, don't—"

Before Ford could finish, Bill swung the pipe down onto the hand, then back at Ford’s face, landing with a sickening crack. The corpse slammed into the ground. Bill stood panting, waiting for Ford to get back up, but the body lay still. Shining his flashlight into the dead man's eyes, Bill saw no glow—the pupils small and unreactive.

Bill dragged the body outside. It took him a while, but eventually, he managed to lay it beside the back porch. He stumbled back inside and returned to the basement. He tried dismantling the portal, but his hands wouldn’t cooperate. Shaking so violently he could barley hold a tool without dropping it. He told himself that he was just the cold, but even after an hour of sitting in the warm basement, his hands pressed tightly against his chest, the trembling wouldn’t stop. And then came the tears.

-

At one point, Bill toyed with the idea of blowing up the house. It would be the quickest solution and would set Ford back significantly. The idea intrigued him, but the intrusive thought of being inside when it exploded quickly snuffed out the plan. Besides, it was only a temporary fix. Bill needed something permanent. And then there was Tad. If he comes—when he comes— how would he feel, finding nothing but the ashes of Bill’s homes?

-----

Lore Comments

[chemdisaster]

IT'S DONE

5 Times Scar Couldn't Speak + 1 Time He Didn't Have To

based on this

@stiffyck @jos-has-too-many-hobbies - people who asked to be tagged

[vanmarkus]

Wip Word Search 🔍

rules: use this generator to generate three random words (or however many you'd like to do) and share the lines where they show up in your WIPs

my words: affect, great, opposed

1. affect from the mudslide fic ☔️

He watched as Eddie got up from the couch, carefully depositing Christopher’s legs from his lap before turning back to him and planting a soft kiss onto the top of his soft curls. He was getting too old for these kinds of affections when awake and — as much as he couldn’t wait to see Christopher become his own, independent person — Buck desperately wanted to halt time. It wasn’t a fair thing to think; Chris wasn’t exactly his kid to begin with and regardless of what Eddie’s will said would happen after his death, Buck's place in their lives wasn’t set in stone, so he savored every tiny moment he could. Somewhere along the last handful of years, Eddie and Christopher became Family, with a capital F. Buck loved Chris like he was his own and his feelings for Eddie were clear as day — only if not for the man himself. It was better that way, Buck reasoned. He probably wouldn’t let Buck hang around all the time, if he’d have known. Eddie probably didn’t think of them that way anyway. Buck ran his fingers through the curly hair tickling his cheek and pulled the kid’s small frame just a fraction closer, relishing in the moment of stillness.

2. great from the jealous eddie fic 🧇

“So uh t-tell me about yourself, you know, hobbies, pets, family, whatever.” “That’s pretty broad.” Jason chuckled and Buck felt his cheeks heat up immediately. Wow, he really hasn’t been on a proper date in such a long time that apparently he lost the ability to make conversation. Great. “Sorry I—” “Relax, Buck. It’s alright.” His shoulders sagged a little at that. “I guess cycling is a hobby, right? I’m not allowed pets at my place and uh… Two sisters, parents live in Nevada.” “Uh great, that- that’s great! I have a sister too, my parents live in Pennsylvania though.” Jason assessed his face for a long moment before he leaned back in his chair with a small sigh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem much more nervous than before. Is everything alright?” “Uh yeah— yeah, I’m fine, just…” Buck sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Eddie, my uh my partner at the 118, he’s been acting kinda weird about us going out. I just… I don’t know, I guess I got a little into my head about it.” A disapproving frown tugged at the patch of skin between Jason’s eyebrows for a moment, before it disappeared with a sigh. “So he’s one of those guys then.” Buck knew what he meant instantly; the type of guys who were just too macho not to feel threatened by even the mere mention of two men dating. Of course, it couldn’t have been further from the truth —  and Buck was quick to make that clear. “N-no, not at all! He’s a good guy, great actually. He’s my best friend.”

3. opposed from the breeding kink fic 🛏️

“You might be right,” he breathed, leaning over Buck and slipping his hands under his thighs for more leverage, “maybe we should just stay here like this forever.” Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment when he bottomed out again. It wasn’t a plausible or in any way realistic idea, really, but Eddie found that he still wasn’t opposed to the fantasy of it. Especially not when Buck’s warmth enveloped him so perfectly, while he got to watch his chest rise and fall quicker and quicker, listen to his quiet whines and grunts as Eddie sped up his movements until he hit a steady rhythm and smell as fresh sweat broke through the lingering scent of their shared body wash; tea tree and mint. His hair was still damp from their shower and that was one thing they didn’t share; the shampoo — and god, Eddie was grateful that it never became something that he’d lose on the account of getting used to smelling it on himself, so now he could let the fruity and fresh scent of green apple, and something that uniquely belonged to Buck wash over his senses.

tags under the cut 💛

I was tagged by @hippolotamus @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @fortheloveofbuddie and @wikiangela thank youuu 💛

✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @eddiebabygirldiaz @nmcggg @thewolvesof1998 @ladydorian05

[scalira]

I'm somewhere outside my life, babe

“Nancy,” Murray says once he’s reached her. He looks even more disheveled than he did a moment ago. “The mice… asked me to give you a message.”

Nancy looks at him, then looks over her shoulder to Robin. Robin looks as confused as Nancy feels.

“The… the jumping mice?” Robin asks.

Murray doesn’t even look at Robin as he continues, “They’re saying… don’t go through the little door. Does that make sense to you?”

[carelessflower]

The flowers, albeit powerful, were abundant in their clan, as long as foxes proved themselves to Heart of Alicante Tree, their flower would bloom, ready to pick. Foxes must prove themselves, by using the power their clan had prided themselves on for thousands of years - successfully seducing and making at least two people fight over them.

Alec rested his head on the table, suddenly tired.

Of course he would struggle at something most foxes pulled through with ease.

Prompt: fighting for @animalecfest

Read one smile, a kingdom fall on AO3

tag list:  @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @ukisteria  @wildesummerchild @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43 @khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart  @raziyekroos  @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward @noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks​ @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible @letsgofortacos​ @kita-no @mxtthew-fxirchild-apologist  @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @pocketoffeels @cityofdownwardspirals @stupidfuckindinosaur @i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag

[whelmed-justwhelmed]

Thoughts about Vincent Valentine and some of his struggles

Some miscellaneous notes before the actual substance of this post.

Loosely inspired by / based on this post, might suggest reading it before my own for a better understanding of the perspectives of the ideas in this post, though not strictly necessary as I think it’s still comprehensible without doing so. This post was made to my understanding + my current interpretation + what I can remember of things at the moment. Anyways here’s my maybe somewhat rambling thoughts, this is what I’ve got thus far. ( @sephirthoughts ask and you shall receive.)

After seeing and being inspired by the previously mentioned post I got to thinking about what I felt to be an interesting character development opportunity for Vincent. The basic premise being how Vincent’s situation, mostly in relation to himself and some of the things that have happened to him in the past, could potentially improve if he could at least start to reconcile his views of things compared to the objective realities. I feel like a step like this could help him to have a healthier perspective and at least somewhat improve his general quality of life.

Now it’s known how feelings such as guilt and regret among other such ones weigh heavily on him, of which a significant amount stem from his time as a bodyguard for the scientists of shinra manor. Although I do acknowledge these things aren’t the only ones that weigh on him and that my proposal of reconciliation is not the only thing that could be done to help his situation, much of his suffering specifically does seem to directly or indirectly stem from that time, his perspective of it, and of how it all relates to him. So with that perspective in mind, I think it’s a good place to start (at least for this hypothetical Vincent character development scenario).

Vincent is the sort where I want to (respectfully) gently grab him by the shoulders and shake a bit going, “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your responsibility, you did about as much as you could for the situation, It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.” Sadly though it seems (at least to me I feel) he’s generally not at a point where such a message would really get through to him in any meaningful or lasting way, so then that led me to wonder, what sorts of things might get him to that point? And what would the process look like?

I feel like he would probably need some sort of external prompting to actually properly start the process and that said process would be a gradual one. Not entirety sure how the prompting would start and be sustained though. Perhaps for example as something to start with, something like the moment in the lament of the damned side quest in rebirth where there’s brief vague discussion of the manor scientists and Barrett expresses how he thinks Lucrecia must not have been all that much better than Hojo causing Vincent to get defensive about her. A gradual process of stuff that challenges him like others questioning things and being faced with tangible evidence of the past, something that challenges him and he actually starts to stop and more seriously consider that perspective.

Here’s where the basic premise as previously mentioned really comes in. I feel Vincent’s situation could potentially improve if he could start to reconcile his perspective and feelings regarding what happened then and the objective reality of it. Challenges and consideration could lead to some acknowledgment that those two perspectives can coexist with each other, that he doesn’t have to choose one over the other.

In regards to Lucrecia, while not always exactly the most pleasant way to think of her, he can still feel fondly towards her and her memory while also thinking a bit more critically about how her actions and the choices she’s made have had serious and more often than not harmful consequences, especially about the harm done to him directly or indirectly. He could still care about her, albeit a likely less idealized version of her, and hold her a bit more accountable for the harm she’s caused. In regards to Vincent himself, it could significantly improve his overall view of himself and perhaps by extension general quality of life. Potential benefits being things like generally improving his mental state, the more specific parts of that could be things like better self worth, less self loathing, at least a bit of self forgiveness, generally starting to be able to take some of the blame off of himself. As such it could help him start to recognize he’s largely not responsible or at fault for what happened (and that he was a victim of the circumstances at that point more than anything?). It could help facilitate him being able to cope with it all a bit better, perhaps even heal the mental / emotional wounds a bit.

All that said, I highly doubt all this would be easy for him to do, I think he’s going to have to struggle for it. Like I’ve said, I think it would be a slow and gradual process that challenges him to think more critically and change his perspective to eventually at least start to understand that he’s not the one in the wrong, such a process would take time and effort. It would also involve a lot of difficult emotions, what emotions, in what context, and how they come up, I don’t really have as much of an answer for at the moment as I feel it depends on how one would imagine the reconciliation process and things as a whole would play out. I’m not necessarily saying I want to see him break down or something like that per se, but I would like for him to have proper opportunities to be more openly emotional about it all. For him to have chances to be vulnerable and be treated with care in return. (And if that means having him break down then by all means let him break down.)

I do want to say that I don’t expect such a process to solve everything with him or that I would expect him to stop being upset about all that’s happened or otherwise take away what makes his story his (etc.), just that ultimately the idea is all about getting him to a point of having a bit more of a balance of his feelings and viewpoint. Bittersweet, but hopeful.

Hypothetically, if I were to try and place the idea where I think it could work well game timeline wise, I would place it around Dirge of Cerberus and / or post Dirge. I think it would go well then for the subject matter being covered, could work well thematically, and for potential opportunities for him to actually have the time and space to think and process (etc.). (Admittedly I think that putting it sometime around DoC is the obvious answer and that it could work at other points in time as well if it was done thoughtfully.)

I think that’s about all I have on this right now.

[toy-pigeon]

MY DESMOND FIC . IS FINALLY FINISHED.

there will be accompanying sketches tomorrow once people have had time to read it. but for the time being have a couple memes under the cut