#aspen’s fics

[hausblackwood]

check out what I was listening to as I wrote this piece of flash fiction!

homicide x magnolia park

strangers x bring me the horizon

#haus blackwood #musicblr #haus music #darkling fics #aspen’s fics #playlist #music #haus of the blackened wood #fantastical tales #something flickering in the night

[buckets-and-trees]

Talk

Title: Talk Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2k

Summary: He's ready to give you everything you want and things you don't even know you need yet.

Content/Concept Warnings: BDSM AU, discussion of BDSM themes, oral female receiving, praise kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, forced orgasm

Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK TWO of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Call You?", my fourth square of @buckybarnesbingo K4 "Kink: Forced Orgasm, and my second square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C2 "BDSM." Also, @biteofcherry, you totally called the BDSM vibes from that little last line tag game sentence I posted the other day - it was this, mwahaha!

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You sat sideways on the couch, your arm draped over the back, legs tucked up comfortably beneath you. He mirrored your position, though with just one leg brought lazily up onto the couch, leaving his impressively thick thighs spread wide, teasing your fantasies.

Indulging fantasy was why you were there in the first place.

And you almost felt like this was any normal kind of Saturday afternoon with the new boyfriend you were eager to crawl into the lap of and be devoured by for the first time.

The setting fit – cozy living room of a sophisticated man’s apartment with leather furniture, modern art on the walls, small but sufficient kitchen, floor to ceiling windows along one side of the room that led to a private balcony, and a door that you knew would lead to the bedroom.

But it was just a little too tasteful to be real.

And he didn’t live here.

It was all designed to make you feel comfortable, an indulgent illusion of reality.

“You’re sure you’re not thirsty?” he asked.

He hadn’t offered anything alcoholic – strictly against policy so you were both sober – but you declined again with a shake of your head.

“Okay,” he said, “but remember it’s my role to make sure you always feel safe and taken care of, and that includes the small things like getting you a drink, and you can change your mind at any point. You’re not a burden. We are here for you and what you want.”

Warmth bloomed through your core – tinged with desire, but mostly just heat that was part comfort and part reticence. You had never taken such a bold measure of self-indulgence or self-care or self-discovery or whatever this could be called. It had taken almost two months for you to get from scoffing at the suggestion to sitting in the room on this couch across from the brunette Adonis who had said to call him Bucky (a nickname – you were asked to give a nickname as well when you registered and had gone with Rio).

“The last thing we should discuss, if you’re ready to move forward, is your safe word.”

“Brazil,” you responded without hesitation.

He smirked, but it was in no way unkind. “Rio and Brazil – I’m sensing a theme.”

“Another thing on the list of dreams to finally indulge,” the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“I hope that’s another thing you’ll choose to pursue.”

You laughed. “God, it’s so weird just how normal all this conversation feels. We just spoke at length about my kinks and limits and now I’m telling you my hopes and dreams. I’ve rarely shared this much of myself to anyone, and certainly not after only knowing them for less than an hour.”

“Well, part of that is that we all feel a little safer exposing ourselves to strangers because they’re not part of our routine,” Bucky said, “but there’s some trust that’s established by the mere act of us talking about your boundaries. It’s certainly a foundational part of the process. This only works when you feel comfortable with me, if you trust me – otherwise you cannot truly submit to me as your dominant in this arrangement.”

You nodded.

“Trust, strong communication – without them, there’s no way I can expect you to reasonably let go of your inhibitions either,” he soothed, moving his hand forward to brush his fingers over yours.

“The world of BDSM and kink is vast, but it shouldn’t be overwhelming. I never want you to feel like you’re an Alice who’s fallen down a rabbit hole and exposed to and expected to navigate the wonderland on your own.”

“I appreciate that. There’s…” you hesitated, but his rapt attention helped you feel like you could continue the thought on the tip of your tongue. “There’s a lot on the internet – a lot that I thought I knew about this stuff, but even just the registration and profile of preferences I had to fill out was pretty illuminating.”

After the basic registration you had been directed to complete an Experience and Curiosity Checklist that walked you through over 250 different activities and indicate whether you had tried it before or not, your pleasure during that activity if you had, and then a ranking of if you would like to try or do it in this setting – from never to need, if each activity was something you would entertain in a consensually forced situation, and if you would give, receive, or were up for both.

“Illuminating, huh?” Bucky grinned.

You felt just a touch of heat rise in your cheeks.

“You’re incredibly smart, and I like that,” he said, his grin turning to a softer smile. “That long and thorough profile? It’s the key to all of this – it’s not only for you, but also for me. I was matched to you ahead of anyone else on our staff. I’ve been preparing for you.”

“Like studying up?” you interjected.

“Of course, and the time we’ve spent up until now talking is for both of us, as well. You have a question you want to ask, something that wasn’t fully clear to you through your own research and filling out the profile. Ask it.” He tapped gently on your fingers, another motion of reassurance, connection.

“Forced orgasms.”

“I’m not surprised you would want to know more about that particular aspect.”

“I get the general concept, but I guess I don’t understand how that translates into practice,” you admitted.

Bucky nodded. “Sex should be engaged in for intimacy and pleasure – sometimes only pleasure, but not all the partners we are involved with are people we would trust to push us beyond our limits – either because a relationship is new, it’s a one-time thing, or because we don’t know how to communicate the limits and boundaries. Just like anything else, sex is a part of our experience as humans that we learn and grow and change with. A forced orgasm is a way to explore pleasure and power dynamics, but there must be that established trust. They can be both physically and emotionally intense because it could be exploring something new or pushing you past limits – you would give up power and be subjected to my whims.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

“You give up power, but not safety – that’s important for you to remember. You always have your safe word or tap me three times if you can’t speak, I’ll always stop immediately. Forced can also be a specific part of roleplay scenarios. We can discuss it more, but I think you ought to experience it. Do you think we’ve built enough trust for us to begin?”

“Oh, now?”

“Yes, now, or we could talk more before we begin, we could talk and do nothing more tonight, or you could leave now and go think before your next appointment.”

You bit your lip, but only out of concentration for deciding, not out of nerves.

“What do you want?” he asked patiently.

“I want to begin the physical experience.”

“That kind of specificity will be rewarded, Rio.”

You grinned.

“You didn’t mark this very high on your profile, but I think you’re going to find out you have quite the praise kink.”

You half-gasped and half-giggled, surprised that he would say something so bold and yet also not.

“Strong independent woman like you? High achiever, determined. You’re not vain, and you don’t chase it, but you like recognition outside the bedroom, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“You’ll love it here, too, doll.”

You pressed your thighs closer together. A slow undercurrent of desire had been present since the night began, but as things began to transition, your core was beginning to thrum with anticipation.

“Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Before we get started, I – well – just – thank you for not asking me why I decided to come here.”

“You didn’t ask me why I chose this profession. It might be oversimplification to say we’re both here because we want to be, but that’s the bottom line, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Know there will never be an ounce of judgment here – not for your desires, your kinks, your fears, your motivations. Don’t worry about doing anything wrong in there – we’ll be learning what your body wants together. You need to stop, we stop. You need to pause, we pause. You want to go slow or try something again or from a different angle, you tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.” God, he made you feel like the world was at your feet even though you were surrendering to him.

He stood up and pulled you with him. “One more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“In there, you call me ‘sir,’” he said. He brought your hand up and placed a whisper of a kiss on the inside of your wrist.

Everything in you melted instantly and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirked.

You knew he was going to ruin you.

You knew this, you knew you were ready and eager, and yet you also could tell nothing in your life had quite set you up for what you were about to experience if he had you pliant and nearly pleading for him after that mere gentle touch.

“Why don’t you head to the bedroom, I’ll give you a few minutes to get comfortable, and then I’ll come in.”

Two hours later, you were a writhing mess on the mattress, completely naked and splayed out for him while he was still fully clothed. His head was buried between your thighs, your hips firmly in place by his left arm pressing down on your pelvis. The fingers of his other hand were buried in your cunt, stroking the sensitive spot on your inner wall slowly and torturously – because every sensation down there was too much now.

He had traced his fingers over every inch of your limbs, teased your nipples, stroked your neck, ghosted his hands over your hips, teasing until you were pleading for him to touch your pussy.

He had told you once he started, he wouldn’t stop.

You knew he wasn’t lying, but you had never known an experience like this.

He had edged and denied your first orgasm until you were desperate and crying. The ultimate bliss had been blinding. He had praised you, told you your first orgasm with him had been truly beautiful, and your back had actually arched at his words, an inner keening. He’d been right about that kink.

And then he’d been nothing but relentless, bringing you to the edge and back again, then hurtling you over numerous times, with only brief moments of reprieve before torturing you with his lips, teeth, and tongue, with his hands, and with his words. Filthy promises of things he would do, dangled your fantasies in front of you, teased out admissions from you of even darker desires he as he presented new options you’d never considered, all the while pushing you into orgasm after orgasm. You keened and cried.

It was too much, and you told him so.

He disagreed, coaxing that you could give him another, and another.

“Sir,” you sobbed, “sir, stop, I can’t.”

Now the crying was continuous, and those were the only four words you seemed to be able to utter. When it devolved to only hitched breaths and sirs, Bucky slowed and stopped.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked.

“Yes,” you rasped.

“And?”

“I didn’t say it.”

He chuckled. “Just checking, Rio.”

“I know it’s Brazil! Break over, keep going.”

“It’s the endorphins – even though the overstimulation is there and it’s uncomfortable, the high with the endorphin release through the pain is its own trip, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes, now keep your word and don’t stop until I’m utterly broken,” you whined, wiggling your hips as much as you could manage.

His low laugh made you shiver. “You’re going to be one of my favorites, I can tell.”

And then he pressed firmly on that spot inside of you and sucked hard on your clit in one sudden moment and ripped another orgasm and scream from you as you twisted one hand in the sheets and tugged his hair with the other, not ready to stop yet. He was as addictive as he was relentless, and you were not going to leave an ounce of this unexplored, and this was only the beginning.

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

End Notes: I feel like I knew some of the basics when it comes to BDSM and some of my fics have had BDSM elements, but I did a fair amount of research because I didn't want to do any disservice to the what a healthy relationship exploring BDSM might look like. This is one take. I found some very helpful insight at theduchy.com (specifically their BDSM Experience and Curiosity Checklist) and an article Bustle published by two sex educators that took a very straight-forward approach in discussing some of the basics. I'd go so far as to say there things that I learned or had reaffirmed or got better language/theory about by studying about BDSM that I think should just be base safe sexual practices (around consent, boundaries, exploration, trusting your partner, etc).

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #hotbuckysummer2023 #connect4au #pleasure dom bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #female reader #reader insert #aspen wrote something

[biteofcherry]

"We shouldn't-" your voice wavered as Chris unzipped your denim shorts and pushed them down.

You already felt exposed in what he insisted you wear, but now he was depriving you even of the scraps that barely covered your body.

"We're undercover and- and-" you tried to reason with him, but your brain seemed unable to follow the reasonable thinking.

Definitely not with Chris getting down on his knees, kissing his way down your body as he did.

His breath was hot on your skin; big, calloused hands rough on your trembling body.

You braced your hands against the rickety bathroom counter, gaze flicking up to the door which Chris purposely left unlocked.

"Exactly," came his reply, voice dark and sweet as honeyed whiskey. "They should believe you're my good little slut. And in their eyes this is what sweet pieces are for."

He pulled your panties down and hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder.

"They get licked into a drippy mess in a cramped bathroom at a gang's house and then pumped full of cum."

His nostrils flared as Chris leaned to your already damp heat. You saw a smirk forming on his lips as he looked up at you, a dark gleam of satisfaction in his steely-blue eyes.

"So make sure they hear you moan, baby. And keep begging like a needy slut I know you are for me."

#buckets-and-trees #Aspen gets a retaliation from me 😜 #and though I don't write for this character at all something about that gif made me think of him #so here we are #destroyer chris x reader #destroyer chris x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #destroyer chris imagine #chris (destroyer) x reader #bucky barnes x reader #okay that tag is only because I don't know how to properly tag Chris from Destroyer fic #sorry

[agueforts]

so. as we all know, rue's true form is an owlbear. as such, we can reasonably assume owlbears are known entities within the world of acofaf. this brings with it the question of their namesake — before grandfather's creation of birds, there would not be owls to serve that purpose. that being said, i would like to put forth another possibility: it's the other way around. owls the bird are named after owlbears the creature

#don't mind the syntax i read a fic and now my brain's just in this mode 👍 #d20 #dimension 20 #acofaf #a court of fey and flowers #d20 acofaf #aspen tag

[snowthornes]

FANFICTION | @uroboros-if

Rafaele opened his mouth, then closed it. He had lived for centuries, for endless millenia, but at times like this he still wasn’t quite sure how to reach his son. He looked at Nero. The snowy haired god was sitting wordlessly beside Avriel, lending his strength in his own way — he met Rafaele’s eyes, and nodded in silent support. Finally, Rafaele spoke. “Avriel,” he said, tasting the words on his tongue. Carefully, delicately, he asked: “Is something the matter?” Avriel shot another peek at him, his expressive dark gray eyes morose. He was silent for a moment, before he whispered, “They… they say that eternity isn’t real.” A pang shot through Rafaele’s heart, and he sat up. “They? Who is ‘they’?” “The other gods,” Avriel said listlessly. He looked up at Rafaele, then at Nero, his young eyes searching; seeking the truth. “Are they right? Is nothing eternal?” That was a difficult question to answer. It was so difficult that Rafaele floundered for a few seconds.

As the god of the changing seasons, Rafaele had always been all too aware of the passage of time.

He had been witness to endless seasons, ancient as time itself. He had painted the changing seasons in the colors of dreams, silent wishes and prayers hidden in every bloom, every bough. Spring heralded the coming of life and rebirth, as a bird returning to its nest; summer ushered in blazing colors and vivid skies, as a red sun disappearing on the horizon. Autumn was a portent of playful winds and falling leaves, of farewells and inevitable slumbers; winter itself was time frozen to a standstill, when the skies were draped in veils of silvery gray and the world was blanketed in hushed promises of life and death.

Within the neverending cycles of life and death, of rebirth and slumber, Rafaele stood at the very center of it all. It was said that he was the artist of the seasons, the painter of change and life and death and inevitability — it was his life, his role, his place in the endless tapestry of the universe. 

Rafaele thought he was accustomed to change. Not indifferent, no, never indifferent, but accustomed in the way that mortals were accustomed to the dawn of the sun and the vesperate of the evening.

And then his child was introduced into his world. And he was shown just how very wrong he was.

SUMMER

Rafaele watched with a smile as Avriel tumbled gracelessly through the grass, laughing in delight. Beside him, Nero watched in amused yet concerned bemusement, ready to swoop in at a moment’s notice should their son’s antics become too hazardous.

The skies stretched overhead in an endless train of blue, dotted with wispy clouds that lazily drifted by. A sparkling river wound its way through an endless expanse of green dotted with trees, shrubs, and wildflowers. A soft breeze caressed their skin, sunlight pouring over them in gentle rays.

“Avriel,” Rafaele called. The young god immediately whirled around, beaming up at them with sparkling, dark gray eyes. Blades of grass clung to his clothes, some even settling in his hair. He looked perfectly mussy, more like a mortal child gamboling through the grass than an all powerful deity created from the very fabric of the universe.

“Yeah?!”

Rafaele grinned — his son’s excitement was infectious. “Do you want to dip your feet in the river?”

Avriel’s eyes rounded. He looked breathless. “Can I?”

“If you want,” Rafaele said, with mock solemnity. “You indeed can.”

Avriel cheered, the sound clear and bright in the glassy air. He immediately ran off, Rafaele hot on his heels — Nero followed at a more sedate pace, a silent smile resting in his eyes all the while.

Rafaele and Avriel skidded to a stop at the riverbank at around the same time, both beaming in delight. Avriel immediately reached for Rafaele’s hand, tugging at it as he jumped up and down, “Are you going to dip your feet in too?!”

“Of course!” Rafaele said, unceremoniously plopping down on the riverbank and taking off his shoes. Avriel, who was already conveniently barefoot, gleefully plopped down and dipped his feet in the water, giggling with delight. Rafaele turned around and, with a loving smile, held out his hand to his husband to invite him down, which Nero wordlessly took. He settled comfortably beside Rafaele, a soft look in his eyes as he watched them giggle and play in the water.

Suddenly, Avriel gasped. “Fish! There’s fish!”

Quick as a flash, the young god had leapt off the riverbank and into the river with a splash, gleefully chasing after the silvery fish that darted here and there within the river’s clear waters. Nero snorted as he leisurely wiped off the water that had splashed onto his robes, turning to Rafaele with raised eyebrows as he wryly remarked, “He takes after you.”

Rafaele grinned, unperturbed. “It seems that our child loves nature just as much as we do — isn’t it wonderful?”

“Tell that to those poor fish,” Nero said, though the softness in his eyes belied the dryness of his words. They continued to watch as Avriel gamboled through the water, exclaiming in wonder ever so often at a stray fish or snail.

There was a rather chaotic moment when Avriel actually managed to catch a respectably sized fish in his hands — Rafael had let out an exclamation of both shock and wonder, Nero sitting up from his lackadaisical posture, before the fish leapt out of their son’s small hands, smacking him in the face with its tail and diving back into the water with a splash, leaving Avriel sputtering with shock.

“There, there now,” Nero said, patting Avriel’s fluffy head in amusement as his son hugged his waist for comfort, Rafaele nearly crying tears of laughter beside him. “I’m sure that fish wasn’t very happy to be caught, either.”

“I just wanted to play!” Avriel said, looking aggrieved. He was completely soaked through by his antics in the river, looking very much like a drowned puppy.

“It must have been surprised,” Nero said placidly, moving on to patting his son’s back. “After all, you didn’t ask if it wanted to play, did you?”

Guilt slowly seeped into Avriel’s expression. “No…” Then he perked up, looking expectantly at his fathers. “Does that mean they’ll play with me if I ask them?”

“Well–” Rafaele began.

But Avriel was already running off. “Fishies! Do you want to play? I promise it’ll be fun!”

And with that, the school of fish were once again forced to scatter.

Once Avriel had miraculously tired himself out and his fathers had explained that, no, the fish probably weren’t very interested in playing with him right now, the family of three moved to the shade of a drooping willow tree. Avriel laid down with his head on Rafaele’s lap, playing with the tree’s drooping leaves. Wonder sparkled in his eyes. Nero sat comfortably beside Rafaele, shoulders touching his.

The two husbands exchanged a look. Rafaele rarely saw Nero so relaxed, so content. He smiled, nearly wanting to sing with joy. He looked down at his son, gently running a hand through his dark brown hair. This was his son. Their son. Sometimes, Rafaele couldn’t believe that he was so lucky. That in his long, endless existence he had met his beloved and his child.

It was times like this that gave Rafaele strength. Perhaps it was selfish, but he could never bring himself to ever regret bringing his child into the world. Not when there were moments such as this. Precious moments with his family, suspended in a time where all was well as long as they had each other.

…He still remembered the look on Avriel’s face. He still remembered the look on everyone’s faces; how confusion had flooded among the watching deities, how Ellera’s delicate brows had furrowed. How Avriel — his child, his child, his and Nero’s — had taken a confused step back, eyes widened in hesitant confusion as he watched the crowd murmur before him.

“I am the deity of eternity.”

He had declared it so boldly. So proudly.

And Rafaele had to watch his face fall as he realized that something was… wrong.

Nero had been the first to surge forward, then Rafaele. They had shielded Avriel behind them as the newborn god hesitantly clung to their clothes, choosing to place his trust in them despite his confusion. And as Rafaele felt the light pressure of small hands clinging to his back, he vowed: he would not fail that trust. He would take it, he would treasure it, and return it with love a hundredfold.

“...Father? Father?”

Rafaele blinked, startled out of his reverie. He looked down to meet Avriel’s eyes — the young god had scrambled into a sitting position on the grass, looking up at him with curious eyes. Feeling a warm presence beside him, Rafaele turned his gaze to see Nero, leaning over to him in silent concern.

“...Ah.” Rafaele smiled, and shook his head with a laugh. “I’m sorry, I was– distracted. What was that?”

“I want a pet fish,” Avriel announced.

Rafaele almost thought he heard the fish in the river splashing in alarm.

AUTUMN

Sometimes, Rafaele had to wonder if there was ever a parent who truly understood their child.

Most times, Avriel seemed so simple, so in love with the world. He cried when he was sad, which was rarely, and he laughed when he was happy — which was often. He ran to his fathers for hugs and headpats whenever he wanted, and rolled around in the grass with Salvatore whenever the other god came to visit. And although in his simplicity he could be slow to understand the emotions of others, to comprehend the complexity of most entities, he was always quick to apologize, vying to make things better again with all his power whenever he slipped up and made a mistake.

But there were times when his son would fall silent, when he would retreat to a world of his own–

Times like now.

Avriel had been silent for a while now.

He was sitting on the grass in their garden, quietly rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around his knees as he looked up at the boundless sky. There was a listless energy to him — one that reminded Rafaele of autumn, of falling leaves and wilting foliage.

Silently, Rafaele went to sit beside his son, his husband sitting on Avriel’s other side. Avriel shifted, shooting peeks at them when they sat down, but he didn’t say anything; his attention soon returned to the skies, and his listless rocking returned.

Rafaele opened his mouth, then closed it. He had lived for centuries, for endless millenia, but at times like this he still wasn’t quite sure how to reach his son. He looked at Nero. The snowy haired god was sitting wordlessly beside Avriel, lending his strength in his own way — he met Rafaele’s eyes, and nodded in silent support.

Finally, Rafaele spoke. “Avriel,” he said, tasting the words on his tongue. Carefully, delicately, he asked: “Is something the matter?”

Avriel shot another peek at him, his expressive dark gray eyes morose. He was silent for a moment, before he whispered, “They… they say that eternity isn’t real.”

A pang shot through Rafaele’s heart, and he sat up. “They? Who is ‘they’?”

“The other gods,” Avriel said listlessly. He looked up at Rafaele, then at Nero, his young eyes searching; seeking the truth. “Are they right? Is nothing eternal?”

That was a difficult question to answer.

It was so difficult that Rafaele floundered for a few seconds.

It was said that gods were all knowing, almighty — but Rafaele didn’t feel very almighty right now. No, he felt lost, helpless in a cruel reality that he wasn’t able to protect his child from.

It was Nero who spoke. “Nothing lasts forever,” he said simply, gently. “But it doesn’t mean that nothing matters.”

Avriel looked down and nodded.

To his horror, Rafaele saw his lips quivering.

“Avriel–”

And then Avriel was sniffling, and then he was sobbing, and then he was heaving great big gulping sobs, crying helplessly as his fathers were forced to look on. And Rafaele was reaching for Avriel, pulling him into his lap, and while the young god gave a token struggle, he eventually gave in and laid his head on his father’s shoulder, sobbing. Nero crawled closer and wrapped his arms around both Rafaele and Avriel, gently patting their child’s back.

The two exchanged looks — the same helplessness mirrored in their eyes. What could they do? What could they say? They had walked endless eons, but nothing had prepared them for this.

“Avriel?” Rafaele tried again, because what else could he do but try? “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing lasts forever,” Avriel choked, staring up at him and Nero with red eyes. “So that means– that means– you’ll be leaving me.”

…Oh.

Rafaele was stunned.

“I don’t want you to go!” Avriel sobbed, his voice almost rising to a wail. His chest heaved, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t, I don’t! I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want you to disappear…”

…Well. He hadn’t been expecting this. Judging by the rare stunned look on Nero’s face, he hadn’t either.

“Eternity means forever and eternity isn’t real,” Avriel blubbered on. Now that he had spoken, it was like water had burst forth from a dam; his earlier silence was long gone, replaced by incessant tears. “That means that forever isn’t real and you won’t be with me forever.”

What do you say when faced with such an accusation from your child?

Rafaele didn’t know.

He could say that they were gods; they would be around for a very, very long time. He could say that nothing would take them from Avriel, that nothing could ever separate them… but then he remembered the war and the loss and the devastating, shattering grief of a world gone mad.

And suddenly, he couldn’t.

Rafaele swallowed. And then he gently stroked Avriel’s head, running his hand through his hair. He searched for the right words — were there even any? — as Avriel continued to sob, heartbreak clear in his eyes.

Finally, Rafaele spoke. “Avriel,” he said, softly. “We don’t know how long we’ll have together, but I promise — it will be for a long, long time.”

Avriel sniffled. “But–”

“–And even if we were to one day be gone, to disappear from this world,” Rafaele smiled lovingly, his heart filled with so much love and pain and loss that it felt like he couldn’t breathe, “We will never truly be gone, not completely.”

“How?” Avriel asked, staring up at his fathers with tearful, searching eyes. He seemed to be looking for a promise, a vow that would hold him in security. “How can you promise that?”

“The world is full of chaos,” it was Nero who spoke this time, dark eyes gentle as he looked at his son. “And there are many, many things that we don’t understand. But one thing will always remain true: and that is our love for you.”

Avriel sniffled, looking down. “But… you’ll still be gone.”

Nero shook his head. “No,” he said, voice firm. He leaned forward and gently cupped Avriel’s chin, raising his head and wiping his tears away. “As long as you remember us, as long as you carry us in your heart, we will be with you.”

“The laws of the universe may be as they are,” Rafaele said, softly, “But if there is anything, anything, that shall remain eternal, it will be our love for you. Like the stars in the sky and the tides of the sea, we will always be with you, no matter where you are, no matter who you have become. You will always be our son — and you will always be our love, our life. That is our eternity.”

Avriel’s lip quivered — and then he was bawling fresh tears once again, flinging his arms around both his fathers and burying his face into their shoulders. “Okay,” he said, his voice muffled. “But you have to stay with me for a long, long time! If I have to remember you forever, then you’ll have to stay for almost forever!”

Rafaele laughed — and when Nero wiped his husband’s face, his eyes impossibly soft, he realized that tears were running down his cheeks, too. “Okay,” Rafaele said, smiling.

He and Nero spoke as one, their voices winding together in a melody that permeated the air, sealing their oath within the dust and earth of the universe.

“It’s a promise.”

WINTER

The seasons passed, as they were wont to do. The years passed by, first in a trickle and then in an unforgiving tide. Birds returned to their nests, and left once again. The sun continued to chase the moon, and the moon continued to chase the sun. Still the universe remained as unfathomable as ever, heedless to the doubtful eyes and questions cast by those residing within its cradle.

Avriel had been sent to Lucidio.

Rafaele had known it was coming. It was inevitable, given his child’s domain.

Eternity. A transient dream, as fragile and precious as the wings of a butterfly. That was Avriel’s domain. And for that, the others had deemed him worthless; the others had deemed him nothing.

Lucidio was a good place. A peaceful place. It was managed by Luciel, who was just about the kindest deity Rafaele knew. They would take care of Avriel. Rafaele knew it in his heart.

It didn’t alleviate the pain that shot through his heart.

Avriel had tried to keep a brave face. Rafaele had thought that he would cry, that he would once again weep like he had so long ago when he was just a young child, but he hadn’t. Instead, he had wrapped his arms around his fathers, hugging them tightly and insisting that they visit him the moment they could.

Rafaele had been the first to start bawling. He had cried, and then Avriel’s lip had quivered, and suddenly he was flinging his arms around his fathers and burying his face in their shoulders, mumbling muffled gibberish into their clothes. When he pulled back, his eyes were red — but no tears fell.

And then he had laughed, saying that they had better visit, or else. And Rafaele and Nero had promised to visit so many times that he would get sick of them. And Avriel had laughed again, the sound bright and clear in the crisp air, and suddenly he was hugging them again.

And he had whispered one last goodbye, then turned and ran to Luciel, who was waiting a respectful distance away, gazing at them with gentle eyes. He didn’t look back. And Luciel had met Rafaele and Nero’s eyes, and nodded.

They would take care of him.

Rafaele nodded back.

They left.

Nero’s arms wrapped around him.

He didn’t stop crying for a long, long time.

Rafaele and Nero came to visit many, many times — as much as they were able. Avriel always greeted them with a smile, running to them and flinging his arms around them the moment he reached them.

He asked about their days, and they told him about their duties in the mortal world, of the seasons changing and the moons passing. And he told them about his duties in Lucidio: of how the mortal souls were so lively, so interesting, with their myriad of trials and tribulations even past death; of how Luciel was so kind, so good, and how Avriel wished he could become his friend; of how he wished he could befriend the mortals, but he didn’t know how; of how his training in the art of the sword was going supremely well, and talks of bestowing him with a title were already in progress.

Avriel appeared to be thriving.

But there were moments when he slipped. Moments when his face would fall and he would clumsily attempt to change the subject to happier matters, avoiding his fathers’ eyes all the while.

“He’s settling in very well,” Luciel said, during one of their visits. Avriel had run off on another mortal errand, promising to come back soon, and Rafaele and Nero had taken the chance to talk to Luciel while he was away. The deity of death took a sip of his cup of tea before they spoke again, their eyes gently gazing at them over the rim. “The mortals love him. He’s especially popular with the children, often playing games with them when he’s able.”

“But?” Rafaele prompted, as Nero looked on with discerning eyes.

Luciel sighed.

“As you know,” they said, “Not all mortals are so welcoming.”

Luciel looked away, their eyes settling on the view overlooking the entirety of Lucidio. A light breeze ruffled through the land, through each carefully placed treetop and wildflower and shrub. Lucidio was a paradise in its own right, a resting place for the dead, but Luciel knew just how restless the dead could be.

“And he misses you,” they continued, slowly. “He’s been throwing himself into his training — he’s well on his way to mastering the sword, I’d say — but he misses you. And Salvatore, Ellera’s child. He talks about you all often.”

Rafaele smiled, painfully. “Is there anything we can do?” He asked hopefully, leaning forward even as he held Nero’s hand. “Anything at all we can do to make things better?”

Luciel gently shook their head. Kindness as old as time, hardwon from millenia of endless living, shone from their eyes. “Your visits are enough. To know that he has you with him, always — that is enough. This is something he will have to overcome himself.”

Nero patted his hand as Rafaele deflated. “Thank you,” the god said, eyes serious as he looked at his old friend. “For looking out for him.”

Luciel smiled, their eyes squinting with the gesture. “Of course. That goes without saying.”

And then Avriel had come barrelling back into Luciel’s residence, effectively putting their conversation to an end.

Weeks later, after one of their visits, when Rafaele and Nero were once again about to leave, Avriel spoke.

“Fathers,” he said, softly. His eyes were uncharacteristically serious. “You’ll be with me almost forever, right?”

“Of course!” Rafaele said, taking his son’s hands. “We promised, didn’t we?”

“We don’t make a habit of breaking promises,” Nero said mildly, though his eyes were soft.

Avriel smiled. “...Yeah. I just wanted to be sure.”

Rafaele’s hand rose to run through Avriel’s hair, and he was suddenly struck by how much he had grown — by how his physical form had grown to accommodate his maturity, by how different yet similar he was to his childhood days. Gone were the days when Avriel would come crying to them at the most minor of inconveniences, confident that they could always, always, make things right again.

Luciel’s words echoed in his ears. This is a path Avriel has to walk alone; this is something he has to overcome himself. 

Echoes of sunlit days long gone shimmered through Rafaele’s memories. Visions of him and Nero walking through wildflowers and blades of grass, with Avriel between them, laughing and holding their hands. Suddenly, the Avriel in his visions broke free from their hands and ran forward, towards a strange, untrodden path that led towards an unknown future. And he looked back, as if urging his fathers to follow — but they couldn’t. As if some force were stopping them, freezing them in place. Rafaele was left to stand, helpless, as his child grew farther and farther away from him, changing in ways that he wasn’t there to witness.

“Is it hard?” Rafaele whispered, out of the blue.

Avriel blinked, staring at him. Then slowly, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little thick. “But I’ll– I’ll be fine! I promise!”

Rafaele smiled. “I know,” he said softly. “I know you will.”

Even so, he felt a strange sense of loss.

SPRING

The years continued to pass.

Time was a constant stream flowing down a valley, and the people, both gods and mortals, were merely fallen leaves floating along its current.

Lucidio alone remained unchanged.

The sun was gentle as ever, its rays never too warm nor too cold. The skies were an endless expanse of blue, cradling the city within its embrace. The lives — or un-lives of the mortal souls still continued to turn. Reunions were had; those parted by the merciless embrace of death were reunited under a gentle sky. Folly and virtue both continued to run rife among those dwelling in Lucidio, almost as vivid and alive as they were on the mortal plane.

And the Eternal Guardian was there to witness it all.

Standing atop a towering roof, the young god surveyed the city below him. The wind blew through his hair, playing with the ends of his sleeves. Although he gazed down at the city with a bright smile, eyes sparkling ever so slightly, his posture was proud and strong, cutting through the wind and the sky. His hand rested gently on the sword at his hip.

Avriel’s eyes traced the faces of the mortal souls going about their days, milling through the city that he had come to know like the back of his hand. His eyes shifted towards the rooftops of familiar buildings and homes — rooftops that he had run and jumped and climbed on top of, much to the delight or consternation of their residents.

This was Lucidio.

This was both his home, and his not-home.

Avriel straddled a strange boundary between mortals and the divinity. He did not belong completely to the gods, for he had no domain, but he did not belong to the mortals, for he was divine. This was what he had learned in his time at Lucidio. Although he tried his best to integrate with mortals, to play with them and learn their games and cultures, there was always this inexplicable sense of distance between them — a gaping chasm that they refused to bridge, no matter how hard Avriel tried.

Some would say that he had no place in the universe. No role to truly call his own.

But not Avriel. No, over his years at Lucidio, he had realized that he possessed something far more precious to call his own.

He only needed to show them…

As if hearing something, the young god suddenly turned his head. There, in the distance, were his fathers: Rafaele and Nero, both making their way towards him. A bright smile shone on Rafaele’s face even as Nero walked poker-faced beside him. The two looked as harmonious as ever, two entities fortunate enough to find each other in the millions of years that encompassed the universe.

Avriel lit up. It had been a while since his fathers had come to visit him together! Without missing a beat, he leapt down from the rooftop, and ran towards his fathers. He skidded to a stop before them, laughing at their surprised faces.

“Fathers! You’re here!”

“Of course!” Rafaele beamed. “We thought we’d come to visit!”

“You’re just in time!” Avriel laughed. “Wait– come with me! I want to show you something!”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What–”

Avriel grabbed his fathers’ hands, dragging them forward. “Come on, come on! I’ll show you when we get there!”

Nero made a noise of protest while Rafaele laughed, delighted, but the two ultimately followed.

Rafaele glanced at Avriel, striding in between him and Nero, determinedly holding their hands. He suddenly felt a faint sense of familiarity, an echo of a time years and years ago; a vision of Avriel, still young and small, holding his and Nero’s hand as they walked along a sunlit path.

He looked at his son, now so tall and upright, his every step graceful and steady — and he suddenly felt a bit dazed.

They soon came to a clearing in the middle of a forest. Sunlight dappled through bright green foliage; a mixture of old leaves and soil carpeted the ground. Towering trees surrounded the clearing, forming a rough circle. Rafaele glanced around, curious — he had never been here before. “What is this?”

“This is where I train!” Avriel grinned. His gray eyes sparkled with expectation. “Wait– stay here.”

He let go of their hands and ran forward, to the middle of the clearing. Rafaele and Nero’s hands slowly dropped back to their sides.

Avriel stood in the middle of the clearing, right in front of his fathers. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled.

“Watch me, okay?”

And before Rafaele could reply, Avriel was moving.

The young god’s feet slid against the dust in slow, deliberate movements. Slowly, his feet turned and spun and shifted, his hand on the sword at his hip, his feet moving gracefully against the forest floor. His eyes were closed. The sounds of the forest seemed to quiet — the entire world seemed to hold its breath.

Rafaele realized he was also holding his own.

And then Avriel opened his eyes, and a light shone within them: clear and bright and sharp, like the wind cutting through a mountain.

There was a gust of wind, a flash of a sword, and Avriel was dancing, spinning through the air while his sword wove through the air at an impossible speed. Like a viper riding the wind, he spun and curved through the air, his sword following his movements as if it were naught but a mere extension of himself, or as if he himself had become an extension of his blade; the fallen leaves on the forest floor slowly rose along with his movements, shivering in the air.

I am Avriel.

The fallen leaves joined him in his dance, hypnotic and flickering in their movements. They swirled around him, a mesmerizing partner to the young god’s dance with the blade.

The Eternal Guardian.

Avriel’s movements became faster and faster, weaving and darting with an impossible speed till it was almost as if he was suspended in the air, as if time had frozen around him to accommodate his intrepid dance.

The Deity of Eternity.

His robes flared from his body as he danced; the fallen leaves spiraled around him in a stream, like they were mere ribbons flying from the end of his sword. Rafaele reached to hold Nero’s hand, intertwining his fingers with his and squeezing.

Son of Rafaele, god of the changing seasons, and son of Nero, god of chaos and purity.

His feet landed on the forest floor and then he leaped, his waist tracing a graceful arc through the air as he leapt backwards, his blade cutting a striking arc through the air. In that moment, it was as if time had stopped; the dancing leaves swirling around him froze, as if suspended in the air; and then he landed on his feet with a swing of his blade and the leaves blasted outwards, flaring through the air and fluttering harmlessly at Rafaele and Nero’s feet as Avriel dropped into a bow, breathing heavily.

And that… that is enough.

Avriel rose from his bow, eyes sparkling even as his chest heaved. “How was it?” He asked, breathlessly. “I think it wasn’t perfect and I may have made some mistakes but I really wanted to show you and I–”

“Avriel,” Rafaele interrupted. Avriel stopped. “It was beautiful.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?!”

Rafaele nodded, sniffling. Avriel’s eyes widened, looking very much akin to an affronted owl. Nero gravely echoed Rafaele’s words, his eyes suspiciously misty. “It was wonderful.”

“W– wait,” Avriel said, panicked. “Father, are you crying? Don’t cry! Father! Tell him to stop crying– wait, you too–?”

“Oh, just come here and give us a hug already!” Rafaele huffed, still sniffling.

And then Avriel was barreling towards them with his arms outstretched and he had flung himself onto his fathers, nearly knocking them onto the ground. Two pairs of arms came to rest on his back and he laughed, beaming brightly at his fathers until he saw that Rafaele was still sniffling and Nero’s eyes were still suspiciously misty. The laughter faded from his face, and he looked seriously at his parents. There was a gentleness contained within his eyes, a kind of wisdom hard earned from his years of mingling with mortals — of witnessing their joys and triumphs and follies and irritations in the endless stream of time.

“Fathers,” Avriel said, softly. “That dance was for you. Thank you for everything.”

“Oh, my silly child,” Rafaele choked. “What are you thanking us for? Ah, Desatana, my eyes–”

“Ah– ah, father, are your eyes burning? Father, you should blow on his eyes to make it better!”

“What are you asking him for help for?” Rafaele sniffled, wiping his eyes “He’s too busy bawling his eyes out.”

“I’m not bawling my eyes out,” said Nero, also wiping his suspiciously misty eyes.

Avriel laughed, and the sound rang clear throughout the forest, joyful and loved and content.

A breeze blew lightly through the forest, stirring the fallen leaves on the forest floor.

Sunlight dappled through the foliage, haloing the dust motes floating in the air.

A sword laid on the ground near the little family of three, sunlight reflecting softly off of its blade as if it was also silently rejoicing in its own way.

Nothing in life is eternal. There is no banquet that doesn’t end, no reunion that doesn’t end with a farewell. 

Lush crowns will turn to fallen leaves and fallen leaves will turn to dust.

Yet on the other side of winter, spring will come again.

And I will carry you with me, for as long as my eternity will allow.

#AHAHHAHAA. HA. don't look at me. #i got emotions and the emotions got me #head in hands #thank you for clicking on my humble fic ahem #i send kiths #aspen writes.txt #uroboros-if #oc: avriel

[burninlovebutler]

30 - It's Not Living // Forever Winter Series

pairing: austin butler x fem!oc | word count: 2.3k

summary: austin copes with the weight of his bad decisions with the help of a new vice. while aspen remains blinded by her feelings and her own addiction, she invites nox over for an in-house visit to help curb austin's withdrawals.

warnings/notes: drug use lol, withdrawals, addiction, shitty/angry austin, yelling, austin spiraling, nox, sad but important for plot, 18+ MDNI

see masterlist for chapter log + all other fics 💫

vibes -> fw playlist❄️

-AUSTIN-

I winced when the bright sunshine burned my freshly opened retinas. “Fuck.” I groaned. Once I had gained some more consciousness, I patted around the bed to find it empty. An immediate feeling of relief, then sadness washed over me at the absence. It made me ponder where I stood with Aspen; having her here constantly and being so… needy was suffocating. But on the other hand, it was comforting not being alone. God knows where I’d be without company through this down spiral. It’s not like it was the worst company you could have – she was kind, soft, caring, funny – and the fun we had. Maybe it was just the aftershock from her ‘I love you’ slip.

Suddenly, there was a hunger pain in my stomach and it crept up my ribcage - it climbed up each rib like a ladder until it was curled up in my throat. It wasn’t hunger for food but something else. I pulled myself to the edge of the bed, letting my feet hit the floor and shaking away the gnawing feeling. My nose suddenly scrunched at a familiar sweet scent filling the room. Using both hands to push myself off the mattress, I weakly made my way towards the kitchen.

The minute I rounded the corner I stopped in my tracks. There was Elsie, fluttering around my kitchen. I watched her wavy brown locks bounce as she wiggled a pan then tossed it upwards to flip a pancake in the air.

Pancakes – I knew that I knew that scent, it smelt like home. While having Elsie in my kitchen after everything was jarring, it was also greatly comforting. Maybe this would make everything okay, maybe pancakes could fix this too; they always fixed everything before.

“Els–“ I began but then Aspen abruptly swung the front door open.

“Aspen.” I sighed out, slightly annoyed and anxious.  

She went to the counter and dropped a pile of mail onto the marble. She knitted her brows at my tone, “Yes?”

I gestured my hand over to the kitchen with lifted brows, “Hello?”

She turns to the kitchen and I follow her gaze, we both land on the same thing.

A completely empty black and white kitchen.

“What? I know the muffins aren’t done yet I-” Her voice faltered as she looked back at me, confused. “What’s wrong?”

One thing you could never underestimate is a woman’s intuition – and by the way she looked at me, I knew she knew something was up.

“Oh, oh,” I fake laughed and waved away the question, “Oh nothing.”

She eyed me curiously, “Okay…” Setting her bag on the counter. “Well, I have some bad news – well I have good news and bad news.” She scrunched her face like she was waiting for impact.

“Oh god, what.” I sighed, letting my hands fall to my sides.

“Well… bad news is, that none of the girls at work could get me anything.” She fidgeted with the silver rings wrapped around her boney fingers.

It was too early in the morning for me to be receiving such bad news. “Okay, well what’s the good news?”

She smiled wide, “Nox is coming home sooner than I thought, so he’ll be back and we can re-up then.”

My fingers curled into a tight fist, “How soon.”

The next succession of days blurred together into a fuzzy haze. Aspen had barely left my loft, only for her shifts at the club and to get food. The entire weight of the past two weeks settled an overwhelming ache pulsing in my blood vessels. Between Christmas, the plan with Nox, Aspen, New Years and the morning after, this had been the most unstable I’d felt in a long time. Maybe even since my Dad’s passing – maybe even before Elsie.

Everything was just shitty – and it was because of me.

None of this would’ve happened if I had just kept my hands off of things that didn’t belong to me – if I kept them off my best friend.

If I hadn’t relapsed, I wouldn’t have been cornered with the plan that landed Aspen in my lap in the first place.

The details and the technicalities didn’t matter, I just didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to let myself dwell on the specifics, on all the ways I fucked up, all the ways I was a shit person. I wanted to forget.

And Aspen helped to do exactly that. When my cock was in her mouth, when she was lighting my blunts, when she was pouring pills in my hand, when she was offering me lines, when she was sharing bottles of alcohol with me, she was doing exactly what Nox had intended her to do – distract me.

It hadn’t even been a week since Aspen’s ‘I love you’ and after I’d already finished the bottle of Percocet she’d given me. The little white pills were meant to be temporary, just to get over the hump of Xanax withdrawals while Nox was away– but as the absence of everything settled, panic began to fill the space. I knew I could handle the Xanax, I knew it like the back of my hand. Since college I’d learned how to deal with it, even when it got bad. But this…this was a beast I was never prepared to battle. 

Xanax felt like a distant memory in the skyline of my mind. The only thing that took up any space in my head were those new pills. They put on little plays in the corners of my mind, they sang melodies into my ears drums. They were all I wanted, all I cared about, all I thought about.

In the midst of my withdrawals, the panic, the guilt from Elsie, and Aspen’s slip, tension was thick in the air between me and Aspen. I tried my best to stay calm, I really fucking did. But this comedown was nothing I’d ever felt before. I was just so ferociously angry all the time, at any and everything. I felt the aching need and the pure rage in my bones; it buried itself into the deepest crevices of my blood marrow.

I knew we’d end up in this situation eventually, where we’d run out and I’d end up in detox agony – or maybe I lied to myself and made the empty goal to not let it get to that point. But there we were.

This particular day, fury was burning holes through my veins, and Aspen’s lack of tidiness was my last straw. I stomped over to the bedroom, “I need you to come with me right now.” 

“What? Why?” She squeaked and the pitch of her voice only amplified the skull splitting migraine I’d felt for the past 3 days.

I didn’t reply and simply pulled her by the cuff of her babypink sweater to the kitchen. “This.” I pointed to the lukewarm milk left on the counter. “How many times have I told you not to fucking leave the milk on the fucking counter.” The harsh words slipped through my lips before I could stop them. There was a tinge of guilt as they left me.

“Austin, what the fuck are you talking about?” She scrunched her brows perplexed. “That’s not even-”

“I’ve told you multiple times to not leave the milk out.” I spat out, repeating myself through gritted teeth, “Now the milk is spoiled.” I felt as though I was talking to a toddler.

She raised her brows in surprise, “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t leave anything out.” She replied feigning innocence.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my middle finger and thumb attempting my best to remain calm. “Can you please stop fucking lying? I told you yesterday, literally right here in this very spot, to not leave the milk out.”

“Austin I-I don’t, we just,” She stuttered her way through, taking a step back from me.

“Oh my god Aspen, you can’t even admit to your own mistake?”

“I just, well I, I just don’t-” She faltered.

“Spit it out Aspen, what!”

“I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She paused, “I don’t even drink milk, and,” An even longer pause while her eyes lingered on the half-gallon of dairy on the counter. “Aus, that’s orange juice.”

The room began to spin, and I stumbled back a step, “I uh- Yeah, yeah that’s what I meant, the orange juice.” I cleared my throat, “I told you not to leave out the orange juice.”

“Aus,” She held a breath before exhaling it, “I wasn’t even here yesterday, remember? I was working all day.” She took a step towards me, and going to place the back of her hand on my forehead, “You feelin’ okay?”

Reflexively, I smacked her arm away from me, “No Aspen, I don’t fucking feel good, I’ve been detoxing for the past 3 days. I feel like fucking ass right now.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. I couldn’t get anything from anyone.” Her tone was sad, like she knew she was disappointing me. “But Nox will be home in two days, so he’ll be able to come over.” She crossed the space between us and gently tucked some of my overgrown blonde hair behind my ear, “Okay? We just gotta make it two more days okay?”

Just two more days. 

My front door jiggled open with the shuffle of two people coming through the door.

“Aus, we’re here.” Aspen called, the chill of winter hanging in her voice.

I spent the day in bed watching the ceiling and trying to smoke enough weed to stave off how miserable I felt. There was a brief moment of silence before her words had fully processed in my slowed mind. I closed my eyes and took a sharp inhale, both to prepare myself but also to gather enough strength to unglue from the engulfing mattress.

A rather unsettling feeling swirled in my stomach when my eyes landed on Nox in my kitchen. However, when I remembered that he didn’t come empty handed, there was an immediate wash of relief. Out of all the people in the world, my best friend’s shitty boyfriend shouldn’t be someone I got excited about seeing.

“There’s my man!” Nox beamed his signature disturbing grin. He threw an arm around my shoulders tugging me close in some fucked up half bro hug. The weight of his arm on my shoulders felt like sandbags. He pulled away and briefly inspected me, no doubt getting joy out of my bloodshot eyes lined with dark circles and pale broken out skin. “God you’ve never looked better.” His sarcasm sounded so genuine, maybe it wasn’t a lie that I never looked better to him.

Like straight out of a movie scene, he plopped down what looked like a high-end lawyer’s suitcase, unclasping each side of the locks before pulling up the lid. Inside was an addict’s candy land, the variety of substances seemed to hold anything you could possibly ever imagine. “So what’s it gonna be Butler? Take your pick.”

The air in the room became dense, like I was inside the walls of a cinder block. My eyes drifted between him and the full inventory.

I was really doing this. This was really happening.

“I uh-“ Running my tongue between my lips, then turned to Aspen. “What do you want babe?” Maybe if I gave her the responsibility, I would somehow make myself less accountable for our decisions.

She let out a small giggle then proceeded to point out the usual suspects. Pills, green, and powder. I gave Nox a nod confirming the decision and a smile curled across his lips, “Perfect!”

When Nox began gathering the products, I realized Aspen had made a mistake. It was the pure desperation that forced my hand to latch onto his wrist, shock flashed over his face before my eyes met his. “Not that one.” I stated lowly and he furrowed his brows in confusion. “I– We want Oxy.” 

It took a brief moment for Nox to put together the pieces but when he did, a sinister beam spread across his face, “Well, well, quite an upgrade we’ve made huh?” 

I crossed my arms, retracting into myself, “Can we just have some fucking Oxy.” I snapped, the anger bubbling up in me again. I was so close to tasting relief and he was just fucking around. 

He scoffed and shook his head, plucking a pill bottle from the case, holding it up and giving it a shake in my eyeline, “I wouldn’t be so hasty with your words with someone who’s holding your fix.” 

My brows lowered and my eyes felt like laser beams, but he was right, I couldn’t do much more than that. He held my salvation in his grimey tattooed hands.

“That’s what I thought.” He set down the bottle on the table. “I don’t have pure oxy, only Percocets.” He stated as he plucked the other parts of our order from his briefcase and set them aside in one little pile of substances. I nodded in acceptance.

Out of reflex, or maybe kindness, Aspen went to grab her wallet to pay but my hand landed on her arm. “You don’t need to.” I said simply.

Nox glanced over at Aspen with a crooked grin, “Don’t worry darlin’, your boyfriend and I got a little deal, you’re covered.”

“Oh.” She replied softly, retracting her hands back into herself and looked down at her fidgeting hands. 

After Nox packed his pharmacy up, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “Good doin’ business with ya Butler.” He leaned into me, near my ear whispering, “And if you don't wanna lose your supply chain, don’t ever talk to me like that again, got it?” He landed a heavy pat on my back, knocking all the wind out of me.

Before the front door closed behind him, the pill bottle was twisted open and there was already a pill down my throat. 

I felt the torment of a comedown like that and I didn’t plan to feel it again.

Next Chapter -> 31 - Mr. Percocet

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Sorry this update is so late 😅 and perhaps not the most interesting/fun but it is important to the plot! More eventful chapters are coming next 💗

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#austin butler fanfic #austin butler fan fiction #austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin butler x oc #austin butler fic #austin butler x fem!oc #austin butler series #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler angst #austin butler smut #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x reader #forever winter series #forever winter fic #austin butler sad #austin x elsie<3 #austin x aspen #addict!austin #friends to lovers

[zealouscanonindeer]

Together.

Synopsis: The aftermath of the attack comes with a waterfall of feelings.But is it enough to stop pretending?

Ethan's POV

Category: Angsty fluff. I can never resist a happy ending

Sunlight peeked through the blinds at the blissful couple nestled in sleeps abode. I was the first to stir, stretching as consciousness returned, slowly opening one eye, then another before opening both to stare at the back of the woman who occupied every inch of my soul.

Her body moved rhythmically, even breaths for which I was grateful, ever since the attack seeing her felt like mercy on my heart. I would have died inside had she not made it. I loved her, with every fiber of my being, I did. And I would show her just how much I did, every single moment that we spent together.

I smiled, closing my eyes and sleep lulled me back into its abode.

**********

"Ethan? Hey. " A gentle nudge against my shoulder followed by a kiss on my forehead roused me. I pulled her hand in mine.

"Penny."

"Wake up, sleepyhead. It's almost noon. "

" Perfect time to come back to bed. " I turned to my side, pulling her hand with me, her body following.

"Who are you and what have you done to my Ethan? "

"It's you Rookie, what are you doing to me? "

She giggled, sitting by my side, bending over me. Suddenly water slapped against my face, making me jerk back, my eyes flying open.

"Oh, sorry. "

Aspen moved her wet hair back over her right shoulder. I looked up to see her smile sheepishly at me, leaning down to peck my lips lightly. I held her against me, her bathrobe soft against my skin, not allowing the kiss to end. Her lips moved in a perfectly synchronized manner, tasting of honey. Needing air, we broke away.

I laid back, staring at her as she brushed my hair back, her fingers running through them, instantly relaxing me.

"Why are you looking at me like that? "

"Like what? "

"With that wierd look in your eyes. " I couldn't in that moment fathom how I had ended up finding her, how I would treasure her forever.

"I was just thinking"

"About? "

I wasn't gonna tell her just yet but she meant everything to me, how I would never hurt her again. I flipped us over so that she was under me. I hovered over her, kissing her once more.

She smirked at me.

"As much as I would like to, you have a shift. At a hospital you work at, as a doctor. " She teased.

**********

Reluctantly, I picked up my belongings and car keys, giving Penny a lingering kiss, hugging her tightly.

"Someone's all lovey dovey today. " She pecked my clothed shoulder. Ignoring her astute observation, I quickly steered the conversation in a different direction

"When are you coming in again? "

"At around 7. I have a night shift today."

Noticing my slightly deflated look, she chuckled. I bade her goodbye, walking out to another day at Edenbrook.

The day continued like always, annoying interns, diagnostic cases and a couple of hours at the clinic. It was time for my shift to end, packing up my stuff I headed out, popping into the resident quaters to greet Aspen where I was informed she wasn't in yet.

I called her but she didn't answer, which was usual, and utterly annoying. I walked out to get into my car, winding through Boston traffic when the car bluetooth pinged with Penny's name.

"Hey. Where..." Her hoarse gasp shut me up.

"Ethan. Where are you? " Her laboured breath hitched as she gasped into the receiver.

My heart clenched with fear, breaking into a cold sweat I calmed my rising anxiety.

"Darling? What's wrong? "

"I need you to come quick. "

"Hold on, I'm almost there. Just hold on. " I prayed and begged her.

********

"Rookie "

"ROOKIE" Jenner barked frantically, running towards me.

"Here." A whisper called out to me from the kitchen floor.

I knelt down by Aspen's weak form, helping her into a sitting position, supporting her weight. She had a pretty bad bruise on the side of her shoulder, already turning black and blue. Jenner stood by my side, worried at the scene before him. She looked up at me and smiled weakly, trying to put on a brave face so I wouldn't worry.

" Don't worry, I just felt dizzy and blacked out. I hit the counter on my fall." She moved her arm, wincing.

"It's probably due to the anemia. You'd warned me it was a common after effect of the toxins I was exposed to. "

" You're right. I'll drive you to the hospital and get you set up. " She nodded as I picked her up.

*********

I pulled the car into the parking space, getting my seatbelt off and ready to open the door when she stopped me.

"Wait! "

"What? " I scanned her, noticing the alarmed look in her eyes.

"You can't take me inside and somebody might see me get off from your car. Drop me at the back entrance and then go home. Your shift's done, it will be suspicious if you return five minutes after I'm here. "

"Have you lost it! I'm going nowhere. "

"But, Ethan everyone will know.. about Us. " My insides fluttered at her words.. Or one word in particular. Us. I didn't care anymore.

"Then let them. " I looked at her earnestly. The way her eyes lit up at my decision had me wishing I had done it long ago.

"Let's go in, together. " I offered.

"Okay." She pushed the seatbelt off as I opened the door for her and helped her out. I steadied her, walking her in through the hospital doors.

**********

"Dr Ramsey! Um.. You're gonna..? " Marlene startled seeing me walk into Penny's room.

"Yes Marlene, I'm gonna sit by my sick girlfriend for the entire night. "

"Of course. " Marlene smiled a genuinely happy smile, leaving as she completed her last call, ready to hand over the floor to the next nurse on duty and head home.

The hospital was in quite a stir now. Hushed whispers and shocked indiscreet looks, everyone trying their best to hide their surprise and failing. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, we weren't exactly parading being together, we just weren't hiding it anymore. I was tired of it.

Knowing how precious time was, knowing how much of it was already gone, not knowing how much was left, a chill ran down my spine just thinking about having regrets. This... Us it wasn't something to be kept like dirty secret. I wanted people to know I loved this woman and she deserved nothing less than that.

I sat lost in my thoughts when a small voice called out to me.

"Ethan."

"Rookie, hey, what's wrong? "

"Nothing.Could you just get the bed into a sitting position. " I turned the lever, pushing her slightly up.

"Thank you. For tonight. "

"What do you mean? "

Her eyes turned warm and glazed, she had beautiful eyes, the chocolate orbs stared at me with so much understanding, I couldn't help but fall in love all over again. Man, I had it bad.

"For showing how much this means to you. Us"

I simply kissed her forehead, words leaving me. I was done living safe. This was definitely a risk but when it came to her...She was worth every risk in the world.

**********

@liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @jerzwriter @cariantha @peonierose @rookiemartin @kyra75 @queencarb @genevievemd @tessa-liam @coffeeheartaddict2 @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart mc #open heart fan fiction #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #open heart #oph fics #aspen milla kallie #ehan x aspen #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey fanfic #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #oh fandom

[spinninglightning]

whenever i read fics i always end up thinkin of a song for the fic or like, th chapter and then i canr stop associating the fic w/ those songs

#i listen to sm fckn music tht all the songs end up bein wildly diff too #ong i cld make playlists for multi ch fics #*stares at electric rebels* #actually u know what #i will #here r some songs: #our song by matchbox twenty is (early ch) electric rebels treemina coded #butterfly by bts (song is abt the fear of losing a person and in electric rebels this is very much true #everyone has the fear of not only losing their lives but losing their family(+found) as well #time is very much sacred n stuff like that) #humming by turnover (thr lyrics “with you ill make it out alive” sold me on this one) #viva la vida by coldplay specifically for the capital students because of how disillusioned theyve become due to the games #and forming relationships w/ their tribute #really good examples are vipsania and hilarius #rhythm of love by plain white t's makes me think of all the good moments treech n lamina have had despite their circumstances #(its also just a them song in general) #young volcanoes by fall out boy for the tributes!!! it seems light a more lighthearted victory song almost? #a “we will persevere” thing but more full of complete happiness #think abt the scene of teslee mizzen n treech running down the hill in jubilation (obvs before shit went down) #would that i by hozier just makes me think of when treech first met lamina up in the tree #which witch by florence + the machine is definitely for vipsania just before & after the bombing (aspen too but to a lesser degree almost) #“whos a heretic now” “im miles away hes on my mind” yeahhhh #love grows (where my rosemary goes) by edison lighthouse is jst a rlly good treemina song #rousseau by nerina pallot is a good fpr one of the main questions in the fic “are we really born free?” #(no. theyre not they have to work for that freedom. rousseaus main theory specifically the idea of it works really well for this fic #and the hunger games in general) #the promise by when in rome seems to work especially for treech and how he interacts with the others #he always seems to make promises - that theyll live - that he wont leave - that hell take care of the living for the deceased #this ended up sm longer than intended i reached the TAG LIMIT #basil.txt

[curious-kittens-ocs]

All About Timing

Avira & the Huntsman Aspen Foster & Graham Humbert

The part you play in my life, will forever be impactful to me.

Forever tag:  

@arrthurpendragon , @superspookyjanelle , @bravelittleflower , @eddysocs , @twofacedharveydent

(If you want to be added, or taken off of a tag. Just shoot me an ask, specifying. Thanks!)

#ocappreciation #fyeahonceuponatimeocs #toalltheocsivelovedbefore #oc: aspen foster || avira #fic: when the story ends #fd: once upon a time #fd: ouat

[blackwood4stucky]

*WIP THURSDAY*

Tagged by @ellethespaceunicorn 🩶

I have too many wips rattling around in my brain but here are 3 that I'm currently working on...

bound by blood, thy lovers kiss spells death [evanstan, 🅴] - Chris and Sebastian were never supposed to fall in love with each other. They did anyway.

His comrades teased him plenty when the official summons came. They sang nonsensical songs Beltane, Beltane, All Hail Beltane, as if they knew the real reason he was headed home, as if it was truly a good thing. For the others it probably was, but for Sebastian it would be one of the hardest battles he had ever fought.

if you can show your scars, then i can stitch your broken heart [stucky, 🅴] - a catfa divergence x twisted fairytale au

There was always a sweetness that lingered in Steve’s nose whenever he spent time with Bucky Barnes. It was a light floral scent with underlying honey and peach that followed Bucky wherever he went. Steve was never too far behind, low eyes and an intoxicated grin gracing his features every time. It was the look of a boy caught in a snare.

burning embers of a dying world [stucky, 🅴] - a dune au

Brooklynd, the capital city on Vanaheim - 10923 Steve looked at the brunet haired baby boy with pointed ears in the bassinet, the omega he would one day take as his wife. He could just barely hear the adults talking on the other side of the room as they whispered about courtship and marriage. He couldn’t believe the Ljósálfar would travel so far from Álfheim to discuss such topics. He was a mere five year old boy, what did he know of alliances and weddings? — Brooklynd, Vanaheim - 20 years later Ever since he can remember, Steve has always been plagued with visions while he sleeps of a boy with pupils that mirror the shade of the Vanaheim ocean tides and irises that sing of the skies. That same boy grows into the man that leads him across the sand dunes that cover Arrakis in its entirety. He still has those dreams, he sees the man wearing a smile that pierces Steve’s soul, one hand drenched in blood and an arm coated in metal. He thinks of those dreams as he stands at the altar to await his bride with those same blue eyes.

no pressure tags: @gyokujyn @rosduncan @greekgeek24 @lynlee494 @the-ravening and anyone else that would like to play!

#tumblr games #ask aspen #ficblr #wips #bleak are the heavens darker the gods #catfa divergent #twisted fairytale #stucky dune au #aspen's fics

[kris-mage-fics]

Green Beans and Stories

Please and thank you!! 🫛📖

“What’s gotten into you two?” Red asked as he took in Caine’s shaking shoulders and her small smirk. Kyrah made an Elven gesture of dismissal. “Nothing at all. I don’t even know why you’d ask.” “It certainly wouldn’t have anything to do with Caine trying not to laugh or you looking much too innocent.” Miraculously Caine had managed to keep silent, but when Kyrah made the classic mistake of looking at him they both burst into an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. Red just sighed at their antics as he left the dining hall, though she didn’t miss the faint smile on his face.

for finish your fics friday

Mmm, I wonder why Kyrahlise and Caine are laughing. Could it be because she told him a story about Red from their Circle days? My sister and I are the worst at cracking up when we look at each other, so it was cool that it organically worked into something I wrote! Sometimes it's good for the soul to write things that are fun and fluffy.

#that was actually really fun to have two that connect! #though I'll have to get to your other ask another day Aspen since my brain is too tired to work on it tonight #but you get to look forward to Kyrah getting a little annoyed for once lol #finish your fics friday #ask game #shepherds of haven #shoh

[hausblackwood]

check out what I was listening to as I wrote this piece of flash fiction!

emerge x ruelle

emerge 1

emerge 2

genesis

come fly with me

empires

hold your breath

waves of gray

#musicblr #haus blackwood #haus music #aspen's haus #playlist #darkling fics #fantastical tales #music #aspen’s fics #call of the moon #into the wilds

[buckets-and-trees]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Fandom: MCU Collection: Cedar Trees Characters/Pairings: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Word Count: 1.3k Summary: After a week of festivities celebrating the high winter holidays, you are traveling with your husband to the summer palace to retreat for a week just the two of you, to spend the Yule Week together.

Content Warnings: royal AU, some modest agoraphilia, vaginal fingering, cum eating, fluff because these two are over the moon for each other

Logistical Notes: This is the reveal for the other kink I teased in this ask @stargazingfangirl18... EVERYONE IGNORE THAT IT'S ONLY STILL NEW YEAR'S EVE IN LIKE HAWAII AT THIS POINT, OKAY? It still counts.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You smile as Steve’s knees gently jostle against yours which are covered in your skirts and a warm blanket. The royal carriage was not quite built for his long legs, at least not like this. It wasn’t any problem when you sat together on the same side, but he’d insisted on sitting across from you. You had teased him that he would fall asleep on your journey, and he had maintained that he would not, but that sitting with his back to the front of the carriage would ensure that he wouldn’t fall asleep.

And yet he sat across from you, slightly slumped over, legs relaxed, very much sleeping.

It’s why you’d snuck a book inside your fur muff and only snuck it out when he’d finally succumbed to his exhaustion.

And so you were more than happy to see him resting. It’s mid-morning on New Year’s Eve, and you could hardly believe you were here. When he came to you a few weeks before with his proposed plan, you were a little surprised but incredibly pleased when he told you he wanted to retreat with you to the summer palace for a week for the new year. He worked sunup to sundown, tirelessly fulfilling his duties as the devoted king to his people that he was. They loved him for it, and so did you.

Although the royal carriage was well built and very sturdy, it was still a testament to how tired he was that he could sleep as it rolled along over the roads in the countryside, but ultimately a particularly rough patch of road jostles you both, and he jerks awake.

“Good morning again, my sleepy king.”

He frowns, but there’s only warmth in his blue eyes. “How long did you let me sleep when I did not wish to, my queen?”

You glance at your book and shrug a shoulder at him. “You know I do not mind; you deserve your rest.”

He takes a look at his pocket watch and complains, “An hour robbed of your company.”

You laugh, reach across for his hand, and tug on his arm to pull him over to sit next to you. “We get to have each other for an entire week,” you say, your easy smile splitting into an eager grin.

“And I look forward to every minute.” He presses his forehead against yours as he settles in next to you.

“You’re cold, my lord,” you fuss, and quickly lift the wool blanket to cover his lap as well.

He chuckles as you shift a little and place your fur muff between the two of you, grab his hands, and stuff them inside with yours. “I’m not that cold.”

You tsk at him, “There’s no need for you to be cold at all.”

“I suppose you are right,” he concedes. He leans in again and captures your lips in a kiss. “Not when I have you,” he murmurs against your lips. You melt into him, your lips part, and he teases his tongue inside.

You become lost in his kiss until he starts shifting, and his hand moves under the blanket, and you gasp he rucks up your skirt and petticoats until he can move his hand beneath the swaths of fabric to brush up your thigh and right to your center.

“Steve!” you protest in a dazed but shocked whisper. You press your thighs together. “We can’t!”

You can’t help but think of the coachman and the footman riding on the front of the carriage, and the six guards riding along behind.

“Oh, I believe you’ll find we can do all manner of things in here, my love,” he insists. With his hand still between your clenched thighs, he reclaims your lips and squeezes the tender flesh of your leg, easing you open again as he kisses you with such fervent passion you can’t help but surrender to him.

You whimper as his fingers slid along your folds, and you know he finds you’re growing wet for him already.

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Keep your pretty sounds soft, my love, only for me.”

“Steve,” you whine.

He noses along your neck, but you know exactly the wicked grin he must have across his face.

“An hour of wasted time, neglecting my queen, I must make it up to you.”

You bite your lip when he inserts the first finger into your warm hole, and you clutch his arm – not wanting him to stop now but because you need to hold onto him. He pushes it slowly in and out of you a few times before adding a second finger. You cant your hips forward to give him a better angle. Steve keeps the slow pace, working up your wetness on his fingers.

“I want you dripping for me,” he whispers in your ear.

“Oh, God,” the soft plea tumbles out, and you drop your head back.

Steve presses hot kisses to your neck, but only briefly as it’s too much pleasure for you to keep quiet, and he chuckles as he quickly angles your head back to him with his free hand so he can smother your moans with his mouth. He curls his fingers up to find the spot you both love for him to stroke on the front of your walls, and he knows exactly when he’s found it as your body arches for him. He rubs there insistently, expertly, and your body starts to tighten the strings pulling toward your climax.

He doesn’t rush it, pushing you until you’re mewling into his mouth between demanding, hungry kisses. Then he presses his thumb to your pulsing clit, giving it ample pressure, circling, until the pleasure driving at the dual points knocks you over the edge into bliss, and you convulse against him, breaking away from his kiss so you can breathe.

Steve takes the pressure off your clit, but slowly keeps stroking your cunt as it clenches around his fingers, bringing you gently down through your climax.

“So beautiful, my love,” he speaks softly against your temple, pressing a kiss there.

You laugh softly, feeling the giddiness and satisfaction of the act the two of you just engaged in whilst traveling through the forest in your carriage. You know Steve was mindful of keeping what you were doing quiet enough to stay private, but the thought that you might have been overheard had been its own forbidden thrill.

You turn your body more toward him. “Steve, that was…” you let the words linger, and smile up at him.

“It was,” he says. He brings his fingers up to his lips and licks them thoroughly clean. You can only watch him, concentrating on taking deep, steady breaths.

You begin to reach for his waistline, but he grabs your hands in both of his. “Oh, no. I’m not confident we can keep any sounds I would make to a discreet level for anything you might have in mind.”

You laugh and feel your neck and cheeks heat in a mixture of desire and shock and a touch of flustering.

“Here,” he says, angling his body more toward you, then scoops up both your legs in the heap of skirt and petticoats, and pulls them over his lap. You help him by scooting closer, and he drapes one arm around your back. “Let me kiss my lovely wife a bit more, and we can talk a while before we get to the palace.”

“Sounds perfect, husband.”

He presses a tender kiss to your lips now, and you place a hand on his chest over his heart, looking forward to the week ahead, only the two of you, no engagements or responsibilities, only time together, and you could not be more happy and content.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

READ THE NEXT PART: LOVE THAT'S LAID BESIDE ME

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fic #royal au #royal steve rogers #cedar trees au #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #aspen wrote something

[biteofcherry]

16 & 17 for Enforcer Steve and Cherry?

Cherry

16. Would they ever get matching tattoos? If yes, what would these look like?

Steve, as we know, is very into tattoos and he'd love to have one matching with Cherry. Now Cherry herself is a softie, who isn't very fond of needles, so she never wanted to get a tattoo. HOWEVER, she'd be so eager to make Steve happy, so when she sees how his eyes ignite when he talks about having matching tattoos she may actually blurt out an agreement. And Steve is just so fucking hard for the though of a permanent mark of his on the innocent Cherry.

I like a wicked, naughty idea in a seemingly innocent form - Steve would get a tattoo of a knife with a decorative handle and Cherry a decorative sheath tattoo. So it can appear as an individual tatt, but is actually matching, because she's sheath for his blade 😏 get it? 😈🤭

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

At first Cherry was a bit shy in communicating, fearing that if she spoke of some uncertainties or feelings then Steve would brush it off, or break up with her. He wouldn't. Steve may not be a very verbally romantic, heart on his sleeve type of partner, but he is all for honesty and not beating around the bush. So he's open with his desire and feelings for Cherry. Which, in turn, makes her feel safe in expressing her own feelings.

#Aspen #buckets-and-trees #steve fic: cherry #enforcer!Steve Rogers

[geminired]

“If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self, I absolutely would…”

Time lapse n’ stuff under the cut.

“I’d tell her that she’ll find better. I wouldn’t say that everything’s okay— I still have a long way to go on that. To say that everything is okay right now would be a lie. But I really believe that I’ll get there one of these days, and that’s the difference. I’d tell her that hope is a fickle and fleeting thing; it fades away when a miracle doesn’t materialize. But strength, courage, and especially faith? Those will last a while. Those will be the things that get you through the darkest of the nights. So I’d tell her to have faith in herself. There are terrible things yet to come for her, but there’s so many better things to come, too.

“You can’t change what Greens did. You can’t change what happened to Ma and Da. I can’t change what I’ve done that family, either. I’ve spilled so much my own Arbor blood. Some of them deserved it. Some of them didn’t. The world’s not fair, so why should I be?

“You and I are the greatest of the Arbors. Not because we’re powerful or cruel or wicked, but not because we’re noble or selfless or honorable, either. It’s because we’re tenacious. It’s because we’re the leaders of our own family.

“Solace, Zenni, Yasmín, Cal and Mar, and hell, even Off the Hook and Deep Cut? They’re family. Not in the traditional sense. We don’t share any blood, but that doesn’t matter. There’s nobody else in this universe that I’d rather have by my side.

“Your real family’s coming, younger me. And you’d best believe they’re the best damn thing that’ll ever happen to you.”

“Why are your tentacle tips pink? They’re supposed to be brown.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“You’ve been kissing someone.”

“Maybe…”

Time lapse:

#the splat chat #splatoon #aspen #captain 3 #agent 3 #splatoon art #splatoon fic #time lapse #my art #yeah it’s not amazing art but it’s MY art

[rookthorne]

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

The entirety of the Hot Bucky Summer event is fucking wild - progressively filthier, and filthier, too.

However, I will share that I am exploring so many new things (and kinks) thanks to the prompts, and one, that I will share an (unedited) bit of under the cut, is with the much loved Mechanic!Bucky 😈

Come ask me about my writing! 💗

“I said I was innocent.”

“That is a load of fuckin’ bullshit, and you know it,” Bucky countered, entering your space and forcing your back to bend slightly. “So, I’ll ask you again–what was that?”

“I-I, um–” You faltered, gaze darting from his smirking lips to his eyes that glinted under the bright lights overhead. 

“No, hang on,” Bucky cut in, licking his lips. He pulled back from your space and you breathed a quiet sigh of relief, until he pulled you forward to clear the engine bay and slam the hood down. “Here,” he continued, forcing you back against the bumper. “I think that whatever that was, was you wantin’ my attention, wasn’t it?”

And I oop–

#rookthorne responds #Aspen 💙 #Honey #< that's the fic name 👀 #ask game #HG